Closed RP By Daylight

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Crow

Crow

Active member

It was impossible, really, for Sam to do anything other than get involved when she saw something happening. Even when she was minding her own business, carrying groceries for the night home to her apartment, she couldn’t avoid interfering with things. One moment, she was walking down the street, bags in hands, the next she had seen a man with a gun threatening a young couple in an alley. In broad daylight, no less.

It had been a no-brainer to set her groceries down alongside the wall and walk in, hands fisted and ready to take action. It was predictable, at first. The man laughed at her, the couple took off when they noticed he was distracted, and she punched him in the gut and made him double over. What she hadn’t expected was for him to hold on to the gun, pointing it right at her face when he straightened back up during her playful banter about picking on someone his own size.

She was faster than he had expected, though, so she was able to move before he could fire the gun. But with his attempt to keep up with her, the bullet tore through her jacket and sweater, grazing her arm and stinging. Since she’d stopped wearing the suit all the time, she was more vulnerable. She needed to remember that. Eventually.

A quick jump off the wall of the alley let her swing her foot hard into the side of the man’s head, pushing her back toward the entrance. He went down as his head hit the other wall, and Sam sighed, glad that it was taken care of. She’d have to call the cops and report it, if someone else hadn’t already reported the gunshot that had left her ears ringing.

She went to reach for her phone and winced, her hand going to her right arm and catching it where it throbbed painfully. A quick inspection showed that the gunshot had gone deeper than she’d thought. It had still only grazed her, but it was bleeding more profusely than she liked. It would take a while to heal, that, at least two weeks. It would make her arm pretty much impossible to work with. She sighed and looked at the blood on her hand, closing her eyes for a moment. She tilted her head back, long orange hair hanging loose behind her in an explosion of curls.

‘Well, fuck me.” She muttered under her breath as she covered the wound again. “And I have to walk home like this. God, if the apartment smells like my blood when Todd gets back, he’ll be so worried…”​
 
Belle stood, propped against a wall from a darkened alley. He heard the crack of the gunshot ripple through the air nearby and couldn't help but bite his lip in frustration

He felt bad now that he wasn't able to be there when it happened, sure, he probably wouldn't have handled himself well against someone with a gun, but trying would've still been better than doing nothing. Belle took his old, scratched up phone from his pocket, dialing for help as he made his way to the origin of the sound, slightly slower that he would've wished, but running would've left him panting only minutes after he began moving, avoiding that would be better, besides, taking things slow allowed him to avoid the groups of people which ran in the opposite direction of the fight.

Eventually, someone picked up his call, and he made the situation known with practiced ease. No panic, no extra details that they wouldn't need, he went to the point, knowing this would be far more helpful than ranting endlessly and confusing the forces even more. He hung up without saying much else, except for a quiet "thanks" to the operator on the line.

Truth be told, Belvedere was a bit worried about what he'd find when he arrived, there was a single shot and nothing more after all, it could either be a very good, or very bad sign.

Thankfully, the latter was not the case.

He managed to get a look at the aftermath. The stranger had handled herself well, surprisingly well. But now that the fight was over, he could see the way she held her arm, it didn't look too good.


He let out a quiet breath and approached, his boots scuffing softly against the pavement. He wasn't loud, but he made sure not to sneak up on her either. No point startling someone who’d just taken down a guy with a gun after all. Belle was unsure whether she had been the attacker or the victim, but she was the one with the visible wound, he decided to trust his gut.

"I hope I'm not interrupting." He said, his tone light, as if trying his best not to scare away the stranger. Then again, he was not very intimidating at all.

His green eyes flickered as they caught the late afternoon sun, and even in the fading light, the faint fractures along his skin were visible, like cracks in porcelain. "I was hoping not to miss out on the fun, but I guess I was late..."

He stopped a few steps away; hands loosely tucked into the pockets of his battered jacket. He cleared his throat, nodding toward her arm. "That looks rough."


Belle didn't rush in or assume she'd accept help, some people preferred to handle things alone. Besides, things had been tensed as of late, specially between normal folks and powered ones like himself, and as for the stranger, he had no clue on what side she was, but regardless of the answer, everyone deserved to be healed, specially from such a nasty wound.

"Would you mind? If I give it a look, I mean..." He paused, realizing he'd been unpolite. "I am Belvedere. You can call me Belle. I promise I won't hurt you or anything- Promise."
 

Sam felt him when he entered her radius, but was careful to avoid turning around until he started to speak. It was easier that way, then turning right when they poked their head around the corner. She had learned that a long time ago. Some people found it unsettling. When she did turn, at the sound of his scuffing boots and his soft voice, her eyes quickly flicked over him, looking for any potential weapons. Instead, she found a teen, with hair almost as fiery as her own and cracks in his skin, glowing faintly in the daylight.

He was a meta.

Something about that did make the flat expression on her face relax a touch. Her eyes and brows softened into something more akin to a gentle confusion. Why was this teen rushing over to try and assist? She supposed Nat was a similar way, though Nat had been training most his life. This stranger could have been the same way, for all she knew. When he introduced himself as Belle, she gave a small nod and smile.

“Samantha, but just Sam is fine. And, yeah, if you want to, you can. I think it might need stitches. It’s not as terrible as it could have been. We should also call the police, to come get this guy. He was trying to mug a couple and I just got in the way.” She gave a small laugh at the end, like every citizen in the city would have taken a bullet for another. But then, Sam had never thought too hard about whether the average citizen would do something like that. It was her job to make sure they didn’t need to.

She took a step toward him. He had a good few inches on her, but that was typical of everyone. He was nowhere near as tall as Todd, but he was tall enough to stand almost a full head over her. With her cheek between her teeth, she removed her hand from the injury, which was now pulsing with her heartbeat, and let him take a look at it.

While he looked, she took a look at the cracks in his skin. They were fascinating to look at, and she wondered what had caused them. Was it part of his abilities? Was it the aftermath of some kind of accident? Had he been born with them? She found her curiosity was almost as strong as her politeness. Still, she didn’t say anything about them yet. She could ask later, maybe.

Or maybe she’d never see him again after this. Who knew.​
 

Belle exhaled, relieved. For a second, he thought the moment Sam turned, they'd put bullet in him, too. It wasn’t an unreasonable fear, people had done dumber things in moments of panic. But instead of raising a weapon, Sam faced him, empty-handed, unbothered and offering an explanation. So… He wasn’t getting shot today. That was nice.

Now that he could breathe calmly, Belle took another step forward, tilting his head slightly as he studied Sam. Her explanation made sense, simple, no-nonsense. The gears in his brain started turning again, and he realized she wasn't a normal human either. Someone her size should’ve been reeling from a gunshot, not standing there like it was a mild inconvenience. Not to mention the unconscious attacker laying like a sack of potatoes on the ground, like she had just casually swatted them out of existence.

The thought tugged a small grin from him. She was different. Like him. Sure, he'd found others before but, they didn't really stop for conversation, nor did they let him help as much as he offered his assistance.

At her mention of the police, he shook his head lightly. “Already handled, they should be on their way, I think…”

He reached for her arm, hesitant but firm, at least as firm as his shaking hands allowed him, and once he confirmed Sam wasn't pulling back, Belle pressed forward, inspecting the wound quietly. If he took on too much, he’d pass out where he stood, and that wouldn’t exactly make for a great first impression.


“In the meantime-” He popped the fingers on his left hand, as if that would keep them steady. “Let’s get you patched up.”

The anticipation was the worst part, waiting for his power to kick in and for the pain to arrive in waves. For a long second, nothing happened. Then, finally, light seeped from his palm, the glow pooling between his skin and hers in slow, steady streams. The wound began to close, undoing the bullet’s damage bit by bit.

Belle winced sharply, but tried to keep composure, he was supposed to be the one helping, and he definitely didn't want her worrying about him at this point. Other injuries had their own flavors of suffering, but gunshots just felt odd to him, perhaps he just wasn't used to that type of pain, unlike broken bones or cuts. Victims at least got adrenaline to cushion the blow. Belle? He got the full buffet of agony. Every second of it. Every nerve-scorching moment. He’d really love to opt out, but that wasn’t how his power worked, and stopping mid-healing was not exactly a cool thing for a hero to do now, was it?


Halfway through the process, something felt… off. His brow furrowed. This was healing too fast. Faster than usual at least, but before he could figure out why, the wound was gone, completely healed, just a faint glow marking the spot before it faded entirely.

Belle released her, shaking his hand slightly, trying to loosen the lingering ache. He tried to play cool, as if he was perfectly intact, though it was a bit hard to hide the light appearing in the exact same spot where Sam had been wounded, but now on his own arm, which shouldn't have been visible through a jacket, but his was just thin enough that the outline was visible. Another scar for his growing collection.

He glanced at his palm. Blood, dried from the heat. The police might ask questions about it, and he wasn't sure he wanted to get into that.

“There we go,” He said finally, offering a smile that was more I’m fine, don’t worry about me than anything genuine. “Good as new, right?”

It wasn’t a lie. She was fine, probably. But he definitely wasn’t. But he’d deal with that later. Healing her had been easier than most, but that didn’t mean it had been a walk in the park. Then again, walking through a park was also something Belle would find difficult.
 
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She was hesitant as his hands moved around her injury, which slowly wept blood down into her green coat. He quickly proved that she had nothing to worry about as his hand hovered over the wound and pure light began to radiate from his palm. It stung at first, and she felt her cheek twitch in response, but suppressed a full flinch as the throbbing began to fade. Then, she felt something that she wasn’t quite as used to. Sam felt warmth.

It was warmer than her, by a few degrees, and felt just like sitting by a fire had when she was a child. She relaxed into the sensation, her lips turning up at the corners in a small, almost nostalgic smile. Gosh, when had the last time she’d been in front of a fireplace? Had it been that time when she was twelve, before her parents boarded it off to keep the new cat out? When they had sat around the fire place, and she had sung while Joshie had played his guitar, and everything had been–

The sensation faded, and she popped out of the memories. She looked at the spot where the wound on her arm had been and was amazed to find it completely healed. She turned her arm a few times, looking at it. There was no trace, aside from the blood that stained her coat and the tear in both her shirt and coat, to indicate it had ever happened. She smiled, her lips parting slightly as she looked up to thank Belle. She paused. There was something about him that looked unsteady. And as her eyes scanned him over to look for a reason why– it could have just been a side effect of using his powers, after all– she saw it. Right on his right arm, where the wound had been on hers, he now had a new glow coming through his coat, worn thin as it was.

For a moment, Sam thought about addressing it directly. But that would be rude. So instead, she took in a breath and looked over to where her groceries had been, happy to see they were still there. She looked back at the man on the ground, gun nearby, and bit the inside of her lip. Turning back to Belle, she offered a small smile.

“Thank you. I appreciate that. That would have taken a while to heal. Would you maybe like to come back to my apartment for a cup of tea or coffee? Maybe dinner? I would love to talk to you about that gift of yours.” There was nothing on her face to hint at any kind of malice or ill intent. But she could see it. The unsteadiness, the shaking hands– using his powers came at a cost. It was the least she could to thank him, really, but to invite him to dinner.​
 

"Dinner?..." He asked, hesitantly. His calm and confident facade nearly crumbled out of sheer surprise.

Truthfully, he never got invited for dinner before, hell, he rarely got anything but a simple thanks.

The rational side of his brain told him maybe he shouldn't accept, after all, even if the stranger seemed to have good intentions. His parents would have dissaproved of such things, stranger danger and all... That was a lie, his parents would have given him away to a pack of rabid dogs if they had the chance to do so in the past.


He brought his hands back to his pockets. He had a place, and food, he didn't need to say yes to the offer. But of course, that place was a cramped apartment that would barely qualify as a home, and the food, stale leftovers of bread and some slices of American cheese that were now on a questionable state of edibility. A proper meal was tempting. But was it really worth it?

His stomach grumbled in protest at his thought of rejecting the offer.


Truthfully, he didn't have much to lose if for any reason the woman ended up being a danger to him, which seemed unlikely. So he caved in, his hunger and fatigue being what forced him to choose in the end.

"If it isn't much trouble... Dinner would be nice."
 

Sam nodded like his agreement was the only answer she could have and would have accepted. She could tell by looking at him that he needed something heavy to eat. He looked like it might have been a while since his last good meal, and Sam, if nothing else, could cook. She walked past him, picking up the big grocery bags, the reusable kind with the thick fabric so they never broke, and turned to look at him. She could hear sirens approaching in the distance, growing louder.

“Good. Then we better go. I personally don’t like being questioned by the police. So let’s go make some soup and sandwiches, yeah? Do you like tomato soup?”


The walk back to the gym and Sam’s apartments was relatively short. Ten minutes later, they had arrived. The outside of the gym had been cleaned up and repaired in the last few months. It hadn’t been her priority when she first took the place on, not with how much work the inside had needed. But now the outside reflected the inside. She’d painted the stones dark grey, and the entrance was glass with a black frame. The windows were likewise framed in black wood, and she walked around to the back of the building, leading Belle along.

“It’s back here. This is my gym, I live upstairs with… my boyfriend. He’s not home right now, though, so it will just be us tonight.” She caught herself as the rush of sadness almost cut her off. She started up the stairwell behind the building, a smile still on her face, as best as she could. She pulled her keys out and unlocked the exterior door that led into the inner hall, then stepped in, holding the door for belle. She nodded toward the closest of the other two doors. “It’s unlocked. You can go right in.”​
 

Belvedere nodded at her question. Truthfully, he couldn't remember the exact taste of tomato soup, well, not fresh soup made at home rather than the old, canned stuff, and he was pretty sure even that would've tasted different when warm. Regardless, he'd eat anything at this point, he wasn't going to be picky about free food.


He was surprised how close Samantha’s home was. Belle didn't dare to do heroics so close to his apartment, mostly out of fear of being followed or recognized by his neighbors and having to deal with some sort of threat. Then again, it was a bit irrational coming from him. If someone paid enough attention, it wouldn’t be hard to locate a red-haired teenager with cracks in his skin, not to mention the pulsing light that emanated from them in a soft yet constant manner, he'd been lucky so far, that was it. His train of thought was interrupted when she spoke again.

He hesitated for just a second before stepping inside. His arm still tingled faintly from the effort he'd put into healing her wound, and something else.

He was uneasy. Being in someone else’s space was uncomfortable, it made him feel oddly out of place as if he was trespassing rather than being a simple guest. But he managed to get over it, taking action for once as she indicated he could in fact, walk right in.


He hovered near the door as he did, unsure of what to do with himself. He wasn’t used to this, not just the meal, everything felt extremely alien about the situation. Belle shifted slightly, fingers brushing against his forearm as he stepped aside so she could make her way in too, feeling the hum beneath his skin, that light, always present, always pulsing. It had been the only thing he could only rely on after.... No. He didn't want to think about him, specially not today.


"Thank you," He said, his voice softer than he wanted it to be. "For inviting me."

The words felt inadequate, but he didn’t know how to say more.


"Do you- Uh, need help with anything?"


The question came out uncertain, not because he didn’t want to help, but because he didn’t know what was expected of him, as if he hadn't already healed her wound earlier, he thought he still needed to work in order to earn the meal. Regardless of what was going inside of his mind, he tried his best to play the same act of confidence he held back at the alley, putting up his best smile to complete his facade.


"I'm... Not much of a cook myself, but I know my way around a knife, kind of."
 

Sam followed Belle into her apartment, making a beeline past the couch and into the kitchen. She set the bags down on the counter. All four immediately tried to collapse and spill their contents, and she was quick to straighten them out, leaning them against each other for support. As soon as they behaved, she turned her attention back to belle, standing by the door still. Walking back toward him, she started to shrug out of her brown coat, revealing a dark green sweater and mid-length khaki skirt. She had her black hiking boots on, even though she couldn’t bring herself to hike without Todd.

“You can help if you’d like, but I’m a very quick cook. It’ll take about an hour, as long as you have the time. I could put you to work with the tomatoes, cutting them up, if you want.” She hung the coat up next to a set of men’s coats that were clearly not hers, and kicked her boots off next to an empty space on the floor. For a moment, there was a sad smile on her face as her hand brushed the coat. It quickly faded as she turned back to Belle.

“We’ll make tomato soup and some grilled cheese. And, I’m going to apologize now. I eat a lot. So don’t be too surprised when you see me wolf down four sandwiches and two bowls of soup.” She laughed, knowing full well that that’s exactly how much she would eat, and the kid likely wasn’t going to believe her.

“Now, let’s get to work. We can talk while we do so.” She walked back to the kitchen, gesturing for him to follow her. Once there, she pulled out two aprons from the bottom draw of the counter, tossing one to Belle. Then, two cutting boards, two large knives, and the bag of vegetables from the table. She walked it back to the counter and pulled out two large bags of roma tomatoes, passing them over to where she was setting Belle up to work.​
 

Belle found his shoulders relaxing as he was allowed to help, it was the least he could do, or the most in this case, he did not have a clue of how one was supposed to make a proper soup... Tossing things into boiling water and hoping it tasted okay seemed like a fairly decent idea, which seemed to be entirely wrong now that he realized the tomatoes were supposed to be cut up into pieces. He was joking when he said the knife bit but, better than nothing, he thought.

He took her declaration as a joke, of course. She didn't seem capable of consuming as much food as she claimed, so he made the mistake of challenging her, because Belle may have been smart, but NOT wise.


"I don't know about that- I bet I can down more food than you in a minute." He did not state what he was betting, regardless, he would've likely regretted choosing anything in particular later.


Despite his usual lethargy, he managed to be quick about his actions for once, folding his sleeves up and washing his hands in the sink, because of course, he had to get the dry blood out, and he wasn't some sort of reprobate who cooked with his hands dirty... Even if he didn't cook much at all.

Belvedere caught the apron and gently secured it around his waist, and began to put his working space in order, aligning the cutting board in a comfortable angle, and taking one of the knives to get started. As he did so, his eyes drifted around for a moment, thinking about the decorations of the house, as well as the ever present- Lack, of someone. Sam did mention her boyfriend wasn't around, but it still felt odd, not that he was particularly experienced in that type of relationship to understand or assume what was the feeling ever present in the air. Regardless of that, the home still felt, well, like a home. Everything had a place, it was cozy, and it was familiar in a way he couldn't quite put his finger on. Maybe it was the posters of movies that reminded him of ones that Lucian kept, or the records, or just, the space that felt like a shelter. He managed to focus, catching himself with a finger too close to the sharp edge of the knife in his hand... He'd definitely almost gotten hurt, but he didn't bleed. No evidence of it except for the tiniest line of light now etched onto his fingerprint. It would go away eventually. Maybe.


His hands reached for one of the tomatoes and inspected it with care. She was good at picking her ingredients, that much he could tell. He would probably ask for tips in the future, when he could afford something like that.

Curiosity was not often received with happiness, but she did mention they could talk while they worked, he decided to gather information, even if little by little.


"So. You do that often? I mean, beating up people in dark alleys and such."


Maybe that had not been the best way to bring up the topic, but how else was he supposed to say it?
 

Sam laughed a little at his insistence that he could eat more than her. Boy, was he in for a shock when they sat down. She started to easily chop through the garlic, the onions, and the herbs while he worked on the mountain of tomatoes. Cooking was one of the few things where she could force herself to be present, as the snick snick snick of the knife kept her from drifting away to thoughts better left unthought. All of the ingredients went into their respective bowls, using the edge of the bowl to clean the knife off.

She almost stumbled in her easy rhythm when Belle asked his question. Then, she laughed, covering her face with her free hand. She dropped it back down to the thyme she was working on and flashed a genuine smile to the kid. “Something like that. Let’s just say that might be better left to your imagination. I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble for anything, you feel me?”

There was a pause as she reached under the oven to pull out a deep baking dish, turning the oven on as she did. She cranked the heat up to four hundred, though it probably would have been easier for her to help it along, like she sometimes did when she was in a rush. She wasn’t really in a rush that night, though, with it still being early evening. “What you’re suggesting is sometimes referred to as vigilantism, and that’s illegal. I will say, I have a tendency to help others when they seem to be in need of it. Whether that’s stopping a mugging in an alley on my way home, or some other thing, doesn’t really matter. “

A soft sigh. She stopped moving for a moment, and then looked Belle over with a critical eye. He clearly had his fair share of helping people. And judging by the wornness of his clothes, it was out of generosity. She hesitated a second, then nodded to herself as she made a decision. “I wanted to ask you about your healing ability, but I suppose it’s only right if I show you something first.”

Reaching out, she picked up one of the halved tomatoes, holding it in her hand. She made sure it was visible to him, so that he could see what she was about to do. She concentrated her focus on her hand, willing the heat out of her palm. Then, she cranked it up, the same way she had the oven. It slowly started to bubble across the skin, then quickly blackened and burned. She stopped when it was mostly black across the outside, then set it down skin up so he could see what she had done.

“If you touch it, it’ll burn you. It’s about four hundred and fifty degrees right now. I can produce heat from my skin, and I can use it for lots of things. Mostly, it’s a nuisance. It has a tendency to be controlled by my emotions. So if I’m mad, I get really hot. If I’m sad, I cool off. Temperatures don’t bother me, and I can’t overheat unless I do it to myself. I also have a bunch of other minor things. I heal a bit faster, I’m a bit sturdier, and I can see a bit weird. Kind of like a bird. I can see much further than most people. The most useful thing I have, really, is that I can feel vibrations on my skin. I think it’s a heightened sensitivity thing because of my heat.”

After a moment, she realized she was rambling. That had been a lot to throw at the kid all at once. She smiled, shrugged, and nodded her head in Belle’s direction. “So, what’s your deal? You take on other people’s injuries, you glow? What else?”​
 

Belvedere stayed silent, listening to her as he did his part in chopping tomatoes to help her a bit. Her explanation made sense to him, and he was relieved to understand she was indeed not just drop-kicking civilians at random.

His attention quickly drifted entirely to her palm once she began her demonstration. Hell, he wished his powers were that impressive. He leaned down a little, taking a better look at the now charred tomato, looking up at her every few seconds as she explained how her powers worked in depth, he wondered why she was revealing all of that, but then she asked her own question, that explained it. She seemed to have understood how his healing worked exactly, which didn't make him particularly happy at the time.

He wasn't mad over it, of course, but it made him feel guilty. People often times felt the need to treat him as if they owed him for his actions, which was uncomfortable to say the least.


"Well- I don't do anything particularly special. It's radiation, mostly harmless... I can shoot light, and that tends to hurt if it lands right, but that's about it. I do glow, as you said, I can make spheres of light so... I am kind of a living light bulb."

Belle said that jokingly, though the expression in his face made it rather obvious he didn't consider himself to be particularly useful beyond what he had already proved himself capable of. There was, the other thing, but Belle chose not to mention it, he suspected that due to how perceptive she was, she would eventually notice how sluggish he was, especially after using his powers. That was the hardest part of his powers, though he didn't even like the term 'powers', not when it backfired with such intensity.


"I mean, I am not great at fighting crime and things like that... I am better at helping in the aftermath."

Eventually he returned to his task, though he did follow her movements from the corner of his eye. He wondered how long she'd been helping others, and how common it was to find others like them. Belle concluded that they were definitely not common, he had never seen anyone like them before, at least not in real life. He heard news, saw videos, but nothing that hinted at more people like him close by. It was scary sure, but it also filled him with comfort to know he wasn't entirely alone in this. He would be happy to know Belle was doing better now.

Once he considered he had enough on his side, he gently placed the knife down and turn to face his companion once again, clearing his throat, with a bit difficulty.


"I have to ask. Have you- Gotten in trouble? For your powers, I mean." He paused to gather his thoughts. "I haven't talked to anyone like me before" A lie. "The public doesn't seem too happy to have around, but... You seem to be doing well."
 

As Belle spoke, Sam gave him the space to do so without interrupting. And when he seemed done, and turned back to his task, she returned to chopping her thyme. So he was radiation? If he was radiation, it was the same kind as the sun, given his affinity for light. That seemed logical. She finished chopping her herbs just as Belle cleared his throat and turned to ask her his question. She knew a question would likely come after he had time to process, and this was a pretty clear-cut one, all things considered.

However.

He lied to her. There was a clear statement that made up the lie as well. Why didn’t he want her to know he’d met others like them? That seemed odd. Then again, she supposed there were any number of reasons. Maybe it was someone dangerous. Maybe he had gotten hurt. Either of those would be a reason to lie to her about it. And honestly, it wasn’t any of her business whether or not he wanted to tell her. It was his choice.

She wasn’t going to lie to him, though. She sighed and shifted the deep pan to the space between them. Pouring some olive oil in it, she then reached over and started lining the tomatoes into the pan, cut side down. “It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten in trouble for anything. I’m good at hiding them in public. I’m good at… not getting caught. It takes a lot of practice, and I’ve just been gifted with the fact that I can hide it during the day. I imagine it’s difficult for you. You can’t really hide it, even beneath clothes and makeup, can you?”

Another sigh, and she drizzled more oil over the top of the tomatoes, then threw her garlic and thyme onto the tray with it. She moved it over to the oven, to rest on the burners while the oven finished heating up. With that out of the way, she started unpacking the other bags on the table. “I am doing well. Because I willed it to be this way. I was given something worth living for again. I wasn’t always doing this good, but now, it’s better.”

Sam left the space open for Belle to ask questions if he wanted to. She wasn’t ashamed of what her life was like before, but she knew it was… sad to most.​
 

He took the answer without any sort of doubt. His defenses falling apart slowly but surely.

Belvedere wasn't opposed to lying in order to get what he wanted, of course, as long as it wasn't meant to harm others or gain something from them in a malevolent manner, he just wanted to be safe, that was all. He wasn't sure he had that many questions about her life other than what he'd already said.


He didn't mean to stay silent, but he did, for a while at the very least. Belle felt bad for lying to her, she'd been honest to him, more than honest, and took him for tonight, offering safety when he hadn't found in ages.

Belle decided that he'd open up, at least about the superficial.


"I can't hide it." He ran a gentle hand through his cheek, feeling the several cracks spread around his skin,

"I tried everything for a while. I saved up for creams, makeup... The radiation burns them away over time."

A thoughtful sigh escaped Belle, doing a futile attempt at giving her a genuine smile. He took another look around, admiring what she managed to achieve, and it did give him a smile for a bit, until he thought of his own situation.

"My neighbors have been snooping around my life for a while- That doesn't mean they helped, though."

Belle carefully aligned the knife he'd set down with the chopping board.

"I get 'warnings', sometimes." He said weakly, not daring to look at her as he said that part. "To watch my back. To move away... So on."


The young man couldn't help but get a few cracks in his voice. Fear? Worry? Anger? A mix of it all in reality.

"It's alright though. I've managed, over time. And, if anything I'm glad I decided to go towards the shooting noise today. Maybe I'm finally getting so luck."

He interlocked his fingers looking at his scars with a little less hatred now, and something more akin to nostalgia, or hope.
 
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