Almost Drabbles

Roleplaying and Games
362
stage

Alejandro tap-danced across the stage in a bad immitation of a Flamenco dancer. He’d seen one on the Telly before and had be entranced by the emotion that he couldn’t get out of his feet with his more classic tap training. It felt like he was learning the basics all over again, that little kid swiping nonchalantly at his feet while the teacher stood off-atage dramatically telling him “other side” couldn’t get him to quit making a fool of himself.

But he was in front of the great Carmina, who insisted he do something beyond himself, and well, this was her forte.

Halfway through the ancient lady thwapped his thigh with her cane, “No, no! You dance like youve never made love!”

That hit a little too close to home, and the young man bowed his head in defeat.

The old woman used the cane to tilt his cbin back up. “Enh, but there was a spark, there. You could learn a bit more from me, hijo.”

Next word: behemoth

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363

The behemoth rises out of the sea, sad to leave, but happy to be intrigued.
It likes to eat and seeks more food, even if that means it’ll be elsewhere soon.
It has drunk oceans dry and trampled seeds before they could be fine dining, so it knows it has elsewhere to be this time, climbing up the side of the mountain and reaching another paradise of green to roll around in.
Birds flee and moss sickens, so the behemoth isn’t free to stick around, with how many trees it has made into sticks and drowned.
It rolls around and roars and frowns, leaving the peace that turns grey with its deeds.

Next: multiply

1 Like
364
Summary

His detached listening, as though hearing a distant story, multiplies my loneliness. This isn’t really my reality. I’m going to have to keep hiding what I am, pretending to be a human this time. Maybe I’ll get tired of pretending and live out my days alone in the forest, but first I have to find out what the world they tried to hide from me looks like.
The dream has changed, memories of his flowing past. A tidy human house swims red with helpless rage and pain. But not a shred of self doubt. I wish I was that strong, that I hadn’t let them-
“GET OUT!” he boots me out of his mind with a single frantic kick, then my soul is spinning through dimensions before being drawn back to my body.

Next: fusion

365

The sunset is strikingly dramatic, bathing me in a romantic orange glow.
I’m awestruck to my core by the waves glittering into the far distance, blue depths contrasting a haze of light.
At the same time, the specialness of this moment is just for me. I can just bask in my own presence without the interruption of other people to make it invisible. The fusion of those facts brings a full peace to my chest, knowing there’s nowhere I’d rather be and no person I’d rather be there with.

Next: base

366

It was cramped in their secret base, and she sat with her legs drawn to her chest, hugging her knees.
She wished the monsters would go away. They plagued after her, grabbed at her hair, pinched her face. She didn’t like them.
“Reooo,” they called in their haunting voices, and she scrunched her eyes shut, pressed her palms more firmly over her ears. “Come out and play~”
Light fell upon her suddenly, and she squeaked, turning her face up. It was just the winds.

next
belly

1 Like
367
CW implied abuse

Tod lies on his belly on the couch, sprawled in a way that Betty can’t do. In fact any of her other brothers would likely get at least a disapproving look from Father at that posture.
Betty sits on the other couch with her ankles crossed in white stockings cut off by a long pale blue dress. Her hair is barely long enough to be acceptable, much as she tries she can’t get it far past shoulder length.
“You’ll have to be more dignified when you become the head of the house,” she tells her brother, in case he doesn’t realize.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” he growls with a threatening look.
“I’m not,” Betty says, miffed.
“Good.”
He doesn’t move.
Even his clothing is rumpled like he slept in it, which she knows he did because he was asleep on the couch thirty minutes ago.
“You better stop looking at me like that,” he warns.
She looks away aquiescently, familiar fear quickening her heart and narrowing her vision. He is her superior, he’s right, she shouldn’t be judging him, she can only change herself, no, she can only judge her own actions to be unacceptable.
“Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere?” He accuses.
“I am waiting for Father to pick me up for my date with Owen.”
“Well wait somewhere else.”
“Yes sir,” she doesn’t ask him to tell Father she’ll be in the foyer instead, sensing limits in the air.

Next: glass

1 Like
368
Summary

The dining hall is impressive, as if the halls outside were leading up to it. Tall glass windows are partially covered by curtains. Theo doesn’t see the spiderwebs or dust he would expect to see near the ceiling, which probably means someone with a ladder gets up there regularly. Likely many someones, with how big the room is.
The stone is impressive, old and rough, the floor peppered with small round tables covered by perfectly white table cloths.
Moira and Theodore’s entrance draws the gaze of the couple dozen nobles in ridiculous finery, along with the servants swarming about.
Moira ignores the whispers and glides to an empty table, her robes extra stately as they sweep the air behind her.
Theo isn’t about to ‘sweep,’ but he knows how to swagger. He can hear the whispers perhaps clearer than their owners intend, being used to human ears.
“That’s the new Dark mage. Didn’t know he was a rat.”
“Seriously, they’re letting that in the castle?”
“He’d better not step out of line.”
“Seriously? This is what the king’s employing nowadays?”
“I trust the king’s judgement, of course.”
“Of course, the king is wiser than any of us, but Darkness could damage that wisdom.”
Theo’s jaw clenches and he wishes he could turn them into something silent. While he suppresses the desire for the most part, the air around him darkens slightly.
He knows he can’t fight here, the stakes are too high, but if anyone gets in his face…

Next: finery

1 Like
369
Summary

Theo meets the king in a room full of guards and Moira standing off to the side looking emotionless.
Theo is seperated from the king by a sea of metal and spears, he almost can’t see the fact that the man’s hair is still brown at least from this distance, his face only mid thirties or forties.
His finery oozes money even from this distance, of course. He wouldn’t be able to keep pet Dark mages if he didn’t have a ridiculous amount of money.
“I was told your name is Theodore. Is that correct.”
“Yes,” Theo nods, because he knows how to behave and he will, for now.
“Do you have a family name?”
“No.”
“You know lying to me is a crime punishable by a painful death, do you not? I give you one chance to take back your words without repercussions.”
“I stand by my words with my life,” Theo would happily disown his family, but he suspects the king wouldn’t care about his own opinions on them so he adds, “I was cast out as a baby.”
“Very well,” the king nods, “you will receive a monthly allowance adequate to live comfortably. Requests for more will be considered on a case by case basis. My personal guards will be sent to you with subjects and instructions as needed. That is all. Do you have any additional requests?”
“Only that the runaways who lived in the house your men found me are left alone.”
“Done. You are dismissed.”
Theo wonders if anybody is going to be captured in the future to blackmail him. Maybe he can just let them die if that happens.
His hands are shaking, he realizes as he strides out of the room, projecting unshakable confidence that seems almost natural now that he’s in this form again.
Almost. It’s still a show.

Next: former

1 Like
370
Summary

“Well?” Theo asks, closing the heavy wood door behind him.
Moira turns around to where he stands at the conspicuously unbarred tower door.
He would have lost it if she’d sent a servant to call him here only to leave it barred. Though… perhaps it would have been understandable, with her being a Dark mage and all. Whatever.
“I called you here to make sure you know what you need to.”
She runs her eyes over him as if dissecting his stance for information.
He squares his shoulders and glares at her.
Her room is in line with the perfect, intimidating image she projects. His sister would be all over her for organization tips, his best friend would be curious about the stuff on the shelves, the baby of the family would probably knock over a bunch of those litlte jars or something and cause a huge mess. Theo wonders if he’s okay, if he’s learned to be more careful by now. The momentary nostalgia fades into irrelavence at her next words.
“The king may not take it so kindly if you are unable to perform the tasks he orders. How much do you know about Darkness, Theo?”
She paces slowly in a circle inside the furniture and shelves lining the edges of the tower room, like a pretentious noble character from a book trying to have a presence.
He hates that it’s working.
He shrugs,
“I prayed to it and it came. It seems drawn to any organic matter with a mind, it wants to transform things.”
“You prayed to it?”
“What about it?”
“Nothing. It’s just not how I think of summoning it. Bring some into the room with us, Theo.”
Come, he thinks, the sensation feeling strange without any of the usual accompanying desperation.
The darkness bleeds into reality through a square hole like a door, seeping in with an energy that matches his lack of urgency.
“Interesting. It’s a door,” she says, tilting her head.
He banishes the Darkness and calls it into his hands instead.
“I can do it like you do as well.”
It’s probably responding to how he thinks of it arriving- if he calls out to it like a god it comes in like he imagines one would, but if he uses the ‘muscle memory’ to call it into his hands or the air without a thought it simply bleeds in, darkening the air before appearing physically.
“Can you freely transform yourself?”
He shrugs.
“Sure. Is that all?”
“I received a report of how you were captured. You should have transformed yourself and fought physically.”
True. But he wasn’t exactly thinking clearly in the few seconds before he was overwhelmed.
“Whatever,” he says, scoffing and looking away.
She looks at him for a moment.
“It was me who instructed the guards to keep a single thought in their minds- that thought was, ‘don’t transform me.’ You clearly have quite the willpower, that you were able to overpower their manifested desire not to be transformed with your own desire to transform them. With that kind of power, I wonder if you would be able to transform minds.”
A chill runs down Theo’s spine.
“I can’t do it, personally,” she says, the look in her eyes taking on a touch of significance for a moment, if he isn’t imagining it.
The king might believe him if he says he can’t, or if he tries and fails.

He’s surprised at how naturally this whole thing comes to him, playing a different role, lying every time he’s asked to make a statement… well, he used to lie whenever he needed to and thought he could get away with it. But his position as a child didn’t bring with it the benefit of the doubt. Now there are enough unknowns about him and enough usefulness to pretending to believe him that it’s worth it to use lies to their full benefit.
He doesn’t like this position he’s in. Even though he has quite a fine budget and his own room, he’s still just the king’s pet Dark mage.
He’ll leave if it ever becomes intolerable. He already knows how to disappear, and staying longer isn’t going to make it harder.

Next: fortune teller

2 Likes
371

woahhhhhh Theo’s story and Betty’s were so cool

Summary

Dilna remembered this place as she was knocking on the door. The cheery blue facade of the suburban house did nothing to alleviate her persistent nausea.
She swallowed.
The last time she’d been here, she’d been undercover, in search of charlatans and would-be fortune tellers— of which she’d found none. Instead, she’d found something much, much worse; Witches. Blood as thick and as black as tar when she’d cut them, and they’d cut a lock of her hair, too.
“Quite the appetite for adventure you’ve got there,” Noon commented, at the memories that seeped around Dilna as she stood there.
Dilna couldn’t turn to look at her, and didn’t. Other people couldn’t see the spirit unless Noon allowed them to, and it was crucial Noon didn’t allow them to. The witches couldn’t suspect which spirit Dilna had bound to her— if they knew about Noon, they’d want to get their hands on her. And quite frankly, Dilna didn’t want to share.
“Aw, I love you, too, Dil,” Noon said teasingly, white wisps of her chilling presence curling around her, barely noticeable, in the breeze.
Dilna sighed irately, and pushed a thought the spirit’s way. ‘Privacy, please. Stay out of my thoughts.’
She could feel the spirit’s amusement in the lack of a response.
In the chilling mid-December air, Dilna stood wrapped in a warm dress, her back rigid and her hair pinned to her head in soft dark waves. Her nose and her cheeks were bitten pink from the chill, as Noon solidified at her elbow. The spirit seemed to be in the form of a little newspaper delivery boy this time, only coming up to her waist as he stood, hands in his pockets as he pressed his face to the house’s windows.
“How long’s it taking them? They planning to keep you out until you die of frostbite?”
The door shuddered open all of a sudden, and Dilna pressed a hand to her mouth to prevent a shriek.
“Oh. Just when I was thinking they lacked any manners. Good luck, dear.” Noon said, and Dilna could hear the grin in the spirit’s voice as she dissipated back into thin air.
An old woman stood at the now-doorway, dressed in all blacks and her face gaunt.
Dilna sucked in a breath, and bowed her head. “Greetings to you, sister.”
“…And to you, darling. Sorry for the wait. We had to make sure you were the right one. Come on in, now, you’re letting in a draft.”

next!
hooligan

1 Like
372
Summary

tyyy I need the encouragement :sob:

I love this
it’s like, her emotional state and surroundings and hinting at a bigger conflict in one sentence

and the adorable dynamic between dilna and noon here :DD

cw for gore sort of

It isn’t hard to get in.
A snake scurries through the grass and into the bushes below a window on the east building. It waits for a servant to pass by.
She holds a duster and shakes dust out of her long black skirt as she rushes past.
Not that one. It waits for another one.
He walks at a steady pace, back straight. There’s no clues about where he’s going visible on his person, but he’ll do.
Theo holds the appearance of the servant in his mind, changing the face, and calls the Darkness into his body as he slithers, then steps, out of the bush.
He looks around to make sure nobody saw him.
Good, there’s nobody making their way along the paths and no faces in the windows.
It’s about midday, meaning there’s several hours until the ball. He doesn’t need to hurry, but it’s best to be early just in case.
He steps into the east building and follows the retreating back of the servant until they come to the kitchens. Lucky, if he can make himself unnoticed in here he’ll likely be around when the servers go out.
He slips in while the servant is telling the stressed kitchen about a new luxury dish Sir Lennard wants to try.
Theo acts like he just slipped out and prays nobody notices him, even though his uniform is a bit mismatched from the people here.
He moves more wood under the roast before seeing a familiar form in the flames, distorted by death and preperation.
His blood runs cold and the flames burn loudly inside his ears as he sees himself in the flames, dead, gutted and cooking.
He quickly looks away and moves aside to look for another task that needs doing. It’s not him, it’s just a demon-pig-rat, he’s not- obviously- stupid, it shouldn’t bother him-
There are a few tasks that were previously occupied by people now talking about how to make jellied dragon scales in under half a day.
He moves on to stirring a pot and nobody notices him amidst the chaos. He knew the busyness would provide cover, but he didn’t think it would go so well, with so many eyes. Eyes all pinned to their own tasks, apparently.
He falls into the rythm of the work, most of the individual tasks familiar even if the overall picture of the huge kitchen preparing for a castle ball isn’t.
His muscles ache by the time people start coming and going with serving dishes. I should have made myself have big muscles, he thinks ruefully.
“I’ll get that,” he tells a servant about to pick up a plate of appetizers.
“Sir, it’s not even heavy,” she rolls her eyes at him.
“That’s not- whatever. Give it.”
She hands it over and throws her hands up, exasperated.
He finds himself walking beside two servants carrying the roast.
“Wish I could have some,” one of the servants looks over his shoulder at it lustfully, taking a long sniff.
“I’m definitely sticking close by to be first on the leftovers,” the other says.
“If the nobles don’t pick it clean first! They’re like crows with this stuff.”
“The crowd won’t be that big today. I’m hoping…”
They lapse into silence and Theo feels compelled to join the conversation, blend in a bit, make the joke that he’s certain other people are making. It will be amusing if he’s the first to make it, isn’t it? It’s just amusing, nothing else, he doesn’t feel anything like horror or fear, there’s no cold pit squirming in his guts. That would be ridiculous and weak, and the latter at least he can’t afford.
Theo grins at the servants and opens his mouth like he’s about to make the best joke ever,
“Don’t tell the new Dark mage about this!” Theo says.
He gets blank looks for a few seconds in which he tries to figure out why his joke didn’t land, then one of their faces clears.
“Wait, he’s a demon-pig-rat demi-human?”
“I, I thought it was pretty obvious,” Theo says, quieter.
“Yeah, maybe if I’d seen him up close,” the servant says thoughtfully.
“Oh shit, is he gonna be offended or something?” The other one sounds afraid.
“Relax, it was just a joke,” Theo laughs, a bit more hooliganish than he means to.

Next: contained

2 Likes
373
Summary

:OO I ALWAYS ENJOY READING YOUR WRITING

it’s like, her emotional state and surroundings and hinting at a bigger conflict in one sentence
and the adorable dynamic between dilna and noon here :DD

hehehehhehehe >:DD

He moves more wood under the roast before seeing a familiar form in the flames, distorted by death and preperation.
His blood runs cold and the flames burn loudly inside his ears as he sees himself in the flames, dead, gutted and cooking.

LOL i read this AFTER i wrote my bit-- great minds think about fire and uh death ig-- XDD

“Sir, it’s not even heavy,” she rolls her eyes at him.
“That’s not- whatever. Give it.”
She hands it over and throws her hands up, exasperated.

XDD

OMG THEO’S INSECURITIES SHOWING AT WHAT HE JOKED ABOUT
I FELT THAT
ON A DEEPER LEVEL XDD

fun scene >:D i love busy kitchen scenes

the goods ...AKA the actual response to the game lol

The firelight flickered in the reflection of Delano’s sunglasses, his expression impassive as he studied the building in front of him. He wondered if he should be feeling anything at all right now.
His brother was dead. His brother was dead. Oh, it should be a weight off his chest. It should be celebration, exhilaration, victory— perhaps accompanied by a tinge of grief to mourn the loss of his dearest little Iolas. They’d had their differences, sure, but they were of the same blood, after all, and blood ran thick in their family…

Iolas must be buried under rubble by now, squashed by falling infrastructure, perhaps, or burnt to a crisp screaming. Maybe it’s the smoke that got him in the end, choking him in painfully hacking coughs until he could no longer take another breath, or maybe his brother had gotten impaled on something gruesome and spent hours bleeding to death, waiting in agony for help… what a way to go, unseen, unheard, the second in line to the Ralovyre clan. Delano wondered if he had any respect left for Iolas, if he could muster up some sincerity when he shared words of grief at the eventual funeral.
He could picture it now— his family dressed in black, himself up by Iolas’s gravestone, shaking his head gently. ‘Tut, tut, tut. The loss of his youngest brother was a loss too great a price for their family, Iolas had been taken by death too young, they’d carry Iolas’s memory with them in their hearts forever more to come,’ yadda yadda yadda. With how much death was in their line of work, words of grief and condolences came easily to him, but the emotions… now, the emotions often lagged behind. Sometimes, they were never there in the first place. He mourned because he was expected to mourn. Was that so wrong? He’s not sure more should be expected of him.
Delano frowned, at length.
His brother must be dead.
Perhaps he should go check to make sure that he was.
He turned his head, paused when he saw the expression of the brat he’d hired. She looked near-tears, thunderstruck. She was shaking like a leaf, despite the buffeting warmth around them. He turned, saw the equally grief-stricken faces of the people around him, as they watched the building in silent mourning.
Something in Delano’s gut reacted, and he couldn’t contain the smile that curved his lips. Oh, what a horrid brother he must seem like, to on-lookers. He couldn’t have that.
“What are you waiting for?” He snapped, at the bodyguards standing stock-still at his elbow. “Search the place. I want every stone overturned until my brother’s found. He could still be alive in there.”
The people around him looked at him wide-eyed, as if he spoke at them in a foreign tongue, in almost-words through a dream. They seemed mesmerized by the lingering flames, the implications of the caved-in building.
“Get to it,” Delano snapped at them, until they stood to attention and scurried to do as he said.

next!
horn

1 Like
374
cw gore, ish

Theo finds a quiet courtyard containing a flower garden to become himself in.
He runs a hand along his horns with the knowledge that they would not melt if his flesh were burned, twitches an ear knowing they would burn first, keeps his tail wrapped around his leg knowing…well actually, it’s not really a demon pig rat tail. It’s floatier and stronger.
Why is it Darkness that’s seen as evil? It brings things back anew, it follows will, where fire only violently destroys and breaks down, regardless of what anyone wants.
He shouldn’t be surprised. He knows how people are by now. Even Theo, he doesn’t want to destroy anything, but in a stray moment of rage he could do so much worse than break an easily fixable bone.
He could go so much bigger than break one person’s misplaced trust- one person who did far worse than break trust, he reminds himself. All those people could have been sent back to the various places they ran into the unknown to get away from, just because of her little ‘mission.’ It could have been worse, it could have been… Moira has done plenty of evil, he knows. He’s heard the stories of criminals turned into small animals, even those who merely blasphemed the king.
Nobody here is innocent. Even him, who has already turned rats into war horses for the king, to go fight whatever bloody and sometimes completely unnecessary battles the king has decided to throw people at.

Next: timed

2 Likes
375

It was perfectly timed. Burning and uncontainable, a hurricane bust from her heart and tore straight into the mind of the one other person who could give her hope. She was his, and he — hers. And she wished it would never end.

Next: fire

1 Like
376
Summary

The fire crackles bright against the night, the three people relaxed as they wait for the grain to cook.
Theo is himself, because while they’re out here away from prying eyes he doesn’t need to be a dog.
The three have had some disagreements by this point, mostly over how quickly to press on. Anna advocates for stopping to smell the roses. In the case of one town with an extensive flower garden, literally. Franklin insists they should minimize travel time. Theo is caught between knowing it will be worse for them if they come home later than they’re supposed to and wanting to never see that place again.
He doesn’t know when he’ll get to see these two relaxing again, if ever. A few hours in flower gardens and scenic routes through ancient forests isn’t going to drastically alter their travel time. He usually votes with Anna, unless it really seems like a time sink like the mountain detour, or an unpleasant experience as in the case of the petting zoo that was really just a townsperson who wanted to show off their unusually docile pig along with two sheep and a cow that they say are ‘probably safe to pet.’
“Hey Theo, can you braid my hair?” Anna asks.
“I haven’t gotten any better at it,” he dismisses.
“That’s okay!” She doesn’t seem to catch his tone.
“Why don’t you do it?” He asks.
“Well… I guess I can,” she says, downcast, and gets to work.
He finds himself wishing he’d agreed, but he shoves the feeling down. It feels too close, as though he hasn’t been living an entirely separate life from the rest of them for eight years, as though he isn’t an entirely different person from the child she knew.
She asks, one day as they’re walking, how he became the court Dark mage.
He reluctantly tells her, humoring most of her questions along the way.
Anna looks proud of him when he tells her he first used his powers on others to protect people. He doesn’t tell her about any of the things he’s done for the king since.
Franklin calls the story, ‘surprisingly heroic.’
“I was just trying to keep myself from getting hauled off,” he lies, not sure why he says it.
“You helped a lot of people. You should be proud of that,” Anna says softly, and he’s transported back to being a child who saved an animal from a cat.
But it’s been too many years, and she’s not the same person, and he doesn’t even really like Franklin anyway, so he just crosses his arms.
“He wants to be the villain even though he’s on a heroic mission right at this very moment. Comes with being the,” Franklin adopts a monster pose, “Dark mage.”
“Oh come now, as if you weren’t terrified of me the second you learned I was a Dark mage,” Theo says condescendingly.
“As if you didn’t spend Darkness knows how long crafting a scaaarry image,” Franklin says, “literaly,” he tacks on.
“I don’t recall trying to be scary to you when we first met,” he says, realizing after he says it that it wasn’t their first meeting.
Whatever, with eight years between it’s close enough.
“Must be so engrained you can’t take it off,” Franklin smirks.
“You try living as the court Dark mage,” Theo says.
The bitterness in his tone puts Franklin off replying, and Anna doesn’t inquire, probably because the moment seems wrong for it.

Next: crystal

1 Like
377

there were dragons in the windowpanes. The glass refracted their icy, fiery wings in such a way that the hallway seemed of glowing crystal, the cold blue archways in it bursting at the seams with its beauty.

next: destruction

1 Like
378

Andy woke up amidst utter destruction.
“What…? Where?”
He put his hands to his arm, where it felt like something had pricked him, leaving a small red mark.
The last thing he remembered… that crazy mad scientist on the news had been going on about his new plan? And then he showed up with a stun gun, stunned Andy, and… blackness.
Andy found some of his coworkers amidst the rubble, similarly confused.
The rest were outside, looking at all of them fearfully. Eventually someone filled them in on the fact that they’d been turned into monsters, and the superheroes had only come in with the cure a few minutes ago.
Work was awkward after that.

Next: teleprompter

1 Like
379
Summary

what I read on the teleprompter brought me to tears
I been reading this damn thing for years
yet I never saw a story so close to yours
it’s like dang, the world’s still so shoddily sewn

remember how I told you we’d come back here sometime?
and that turned out to be a big fat lie?
well I’m sorry, I’ll be honest,
with that time in mind,
I’ll never sell another treasure to them

'caus I know that I’m better than being so mean
believe me, I’m grieving, but it’s almost too late
to fake being angry over believing your fate
I walked right into it, relying on hate

Next: acceptance

1 Like
380

The fear was too great: only the perfect most of perfection would be acceptable for her terrifying master.

Next: colour

1 Like
381
Summary

The sky’s colour dips into faded blue, and Theo reaches the forest and spots a cluster of houses and a confusing collection of things that reveals itself as an obstacle course.
Impatient, Theo flies toward it, but turns around when a bunch of men come out of one of the houses with bows and quivers of arrows.
He can’t see, at this distance, if Leon is one of them.
He takes a detour to an empty side of the forest, lands, and becomes a nondescript adult man. This shouldn’t be hard.
He spots Leon immediately as he approaches. His face has a more serious tone, but the arrangement of features is the same. His hair has been cut close to his head and he’s wearing a uniform.
An older man who’s clearly in a position of authority gestures for the students to stay and approaches Theo, expression clearly wary.
“What are you doing here?” He says.
“I’ve got a son. Is this the Lumberwoods camp for troubled young men?” Theo realizes he should ask.
“You’ve come to the right place. We’re doing target practice right now, go talk to Mister Crow in that building over there.”
Theo obliges, since he has little choice at this point, forcing himself not to look at Leon as Theo walks past him.

Next: recluse