⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯Danny⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
⎯⎯⎯⎯ fun-loving ⎯⎯⎯⎯ male ⎯⎯⎯⎯ 19 ⎯⎯⎯⎯ tags; aurora, open ⎯⎯⎯⎯ form ⎯⎯⎯⎯
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Danny lifted off the ground, a few feathers flying here and there. Had he been trying to be secretive with his location he would pick up any dropped feathers, but the giant mural should give enough of a hint saying that he had been here. He rose above the crumbling buildings, the movement of his wings leaving a cloud of dust behind. He looked around and spotted someone on a roof. Might as well check it out. He flew over to the silhouette outlined in the early morning sunlight. Luckily, he realized as he flew closer, this person sounded exactly like his sister. He landed on the roof behind her with a reasonably loud thud, slightly out of breath. He wasn't the most graceful thing around, and flying took a lot more out of him than he'd like to admit.
The red-head pulled his hood down to reveal his dust-covered red hair and sat down next to his sister. He looked over her shoulder at her book and immediately noticed a list of dog names. He rolled his eyes and laughed quietly, propping his arm up on his knee. "Will you ever give up on this?" He asked. He would probably never let her get a dog due to how hard it was just for them to survive, but he would always allow her to dream. Dreams were one of the only things people had to hold on to in this world. Besides, he'd quite like a dog as well. When he was young, almost too young to have formed memories, his parents had gotten a golden retriever puppy for Christmas. When the war started, the dog was relatively young but old enough to survive on his own, so they let him go so he wouldn't be trapped in the house in the chance that bombs started falling.
Danny often missed his old life, but he didn't necessarily hate his new one. He had wings which was awesome on its own, and the person he's always been closest too has survived with him, so he was fine with this wasteland. He was breathing, his heart was beating, and so was his sister's and that's all that mattered. He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, some smaller pieces of rubble falling out and landing on his shoulders. He very rarely removed his hood as his hair was one of the most recognizable features. It was a splash of color against dull brown wings and extremely pale skin.
Danny smiled at his sister, looking at her book again. He admired how resourceful she was and how she was able to keep hold of the scrapbook despite all that had happened. He had often contemplated finding a sketchbook and starting one of his own, but he often told himself that the city was his sketchbook, the buildings his canvas, and the people his critiques. The metaphor might seem a little crazy to the citizens, but most of the other luminaries understood. He took another deep breath and leaned back a little, allowing the sun to warm his face.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯Enzo⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
⎯⎯⎯⎯ the president ⎯⎯⎯⎯ male ⎯⎯⎯⎯ 26 ⎯⎯⎯⎯ tags; kirin ⎯⎯⎯⎯ form ⎯⎯⎯⎯
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Enzo couldn't help but smile at Kirin's first answer, hearing how bright and cheerful he always was. Kirin's voice was one of the few things in this world that made life seem normal and livable. There were few things that brought normality into this awful place, but his assistant was luckily one of them. He gave a small, deep chuckle at the joke about pigs and potatoes. Enzo didn't even know if non-mutated swine still existed, and if they did how many were left. If there were some, though, they would have to start a capturing and breeding project to repopulate and begin producing actually edible food again. He made a mental note to begin those orders later.
The leader nodded along as Kirin brought up the wasteland creatures. They had been working to tame them for quite some time as some of them, especially those with the more powerful and potentially dangerous mutations, but it would take years as Kirin had said. It was frustrating to say the least, but trying to speed up the process would cause nothing but pointless deaths of some of the best animal tamers and zoologists the new world had to offer. Once the older man paused, though, Enzo's face went from relaxed to tense and slightly angry. He knew what was coming.
"We need to get rid of that group as soon as possible," He hissed through clenched teeth. Before he lost his temper in front of the only person who has ever seen him, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, then slowly exhaled. It helped calm him down a reasonable amount, actually, and prevented him from taking his anger out on the wrong person. As he was taking a moment to calm down, he heard footsteps outside and the very quiet, nearly unnoticeable creak of a figure leaning against the wall just outside the room. Carter. "Could you give this to the assassin real quick?" Enzo asked, holding up a yellowed envelope with a stain that looked suspiciously like blood. It held information of the next victim for the assassin to take care of; A trader who had stolen from an official government stock house and who was now selling the goods. A lot of the goods would be able to be reclaimed once the trader was killed, but he would send out a separate team for taking back the small amount of decently rare items such as warm clothing made of wool and cans of sugared vegetables.
"You may come back in when you're done," He added, motioning to the flask. Kirin was one of the few people that Enzo would share anything with, especially actual food. He leaned back in his chair a bit, looking to the window. There wasn't a whole lot to miss, but a little bit of sunlight on his paling skin would be nice every once in a while. Still, he needed to keep himself a complete secret so as to maintain the terrifying, unknown force that he currently held just by hiding his physical being. He sighed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment as he waited for Carter to receive the letter, imagining wind through his hair again and the feeling of warmth. Actual natural warmth, not that of a fireplace or candle, but warmth from the sunlight. Warmth from the outside and the feeling of being alive.
