Enter Dawn

The record label turned and flipped in Lana's hands with a sleek darkness that glistened beneath the sun's thin rays from above, impeded by the plant life that'd swallowed this place whole whilst her eyes shimmered with fascination, childish almost as they made their way back to the entrance. It was amusing seeing how enthralling the item was to them, not speaking from any experience of having listened to one himself much less at all, it didn't fascinate him although he couldn't deny it was intriguing.

"Wait until Ma sees this one," she commented, "This is up her alley right?"

Tom glanced at it again, raising a brow as though deliberating the thought before shrugging, "How would you even use this thing?" 

"With a record player! They had these in jazz clubs all over the place, damn, the rest must've been ransacked.." That was to be expected, After food and water came basic entertainments like books, music or the odd toys for children. There must've been others that'd returned for such pleasures as Tom's expression creased over with a modicum of interest that quickly turned into boredom, turning towards Dust as the emptied frames of the buildings shattered entrance stared at them from up ahead, "What's got you all silent? I thought you'd be gloating on us by now, first hunt with perfect scores"

He blinked, suddenly realising how detached from the conversation he'd been, thoughts swirling like a whirlwind of conflicting memories as he smiled wryly in response to them although it barely lifted in what was anything but a show of genuine comfort; Tom frowned as Lana glanced at them, "You alright?" She asked, the same question seeming to resonate through Tom as their gazes bore holes through him but what exactly was he supposed to say? Truth be told he didn't know where this was going either, what he wanted to do and just how much it meant to him. When they breached the building's walls into the soft winds and the supple light of the sun, hampered by the receding storm clouds, he stopped, their figure's pausing a few feet away from him as they glanced back.

Here, he had to say it. The words caught in his throat before he could voice them, taken by the anxiety, perhaps the absurdity of whatever he had in mind that letting it slip from his lips was anything but simple, twisting and constricting his throat. Silent for what felt like fire his mouth opened and closed, a stammer of a response slipping through before gritting his teeth in subdued frustration till the words made themselves known, "I..I want to volunteer for the army"

Silence…

The sentence fell like a sledgehammer, slamming into them with a force that could've knocked the wind from their lungs or at least it seemed to. Their eyes widened in shock, horror, a mix of many things with even the slightest twinge of anger, disbelief writ across them in a long moment of missing words that couldn't have continued any longer than it had already. He watched as Tom's gaze narrowed and stared at him in confusion, lit with a sense of concern though his voice pierced through as calmly as it could, "Why…?"

Why indeed, volunteering wasn't out of the ordinary, unnecessary as conscription started so far down the order that many found themselves strapped at the ready long before courage could ever bring them to its doors but the option still remained; a tradition if anything else. The thought that anyone would willingly subject themselves to that nightmare was absurd, let alone when the reports spoke for themselves, the grim atmosphere of the outside barely painting a picture that anyone might find..inviting. There'd been hero-heads, sure, the delusional who'd thought themselves special and plunged into those nightmares with hearts set ablaze like raging infernos but that was decades ago..when the horrors first swarmed them and blind hopes told them they stood a chance, that together humanity feared nothing…and yet they did. 

Those times were over, heroes died and no more gracefully than those who had no choice but to be there. The suggestion he'd spouted wasn't just absurd, it was suicidal, furrowing Lana's brows as she stared at him through pursed lips. Their gazes were anything but nothing he hadn't expected, staring at him as though they'd misheard something before scrunching up in frustration. "You don't know what you're talking about" Tom sneered, "Not a damn thing!"

"Tom!" In a moment of rage, he turned, storming across the street in stomping steps with a face writ in red as Lana called out to him, "Tom! Tom, stop!"

He paused, turning with a glare that could've melted steel, "What? You're going to stand by him like a bloody idiot?!"

"We haven't listened to a word he has to say—"

"HE WANTS TO GET HIMSELF KILLED!" He roared, the words snaring themselves in Lana's throat as he glowered, "WHAT MORE IS THERE TO LISTEN TO, HUH?! JUST LIKE THE REST OF THEM, JUST LIKE EVERY ONE OF THOSE DAMN FOOLS WHO LEFT; JUST LIKE—" his gaze flared with a sense of realisation, scowling between a scoff as he turned back to the motorcycle whilst a sputter and a growling roar sparked the engine to life as a tentative gaze fixed on him with a sigh. Her expression grew complicated, a furtive glance passing over him with a wry smile; "He's…he's gone through a lot"

The words came through a voice barely above a whisper, her own inhibitions stuffed down beneath a world of emotions he couldn't quite understand nor did he think he ever could, not right now at least. A gentle nod was all he gave, knots twisting in his throat as they made their way to the motorcycle with a silence that was suffocating as they tore back onto the road, the howling winds and the soaring engine swelling their ears although it didn't seem at all like that, the silence deafening enough that it swallowed them whole; buildings zipping past them like still images animated with a flip of a page whilst thoughts turned to Ms Brentley.

Churning with the darkness behind those words, trying to get himself killed, was he really? Was that what it looked like, a selfish act of idiocy guised under righteous causes? His brows furrowed, taken by the fear of that assumption and perhaps..he had to wonder if there was truth in that. The problem with acts of self-sacrifice after witnessing another was the inability to tell how deeply a true act of nobility went and where darker, much grimmer emotions began. Was it really all for that, the desire to protect and rescue, give the slightest sliver of hope that someone else kept going or at some point, through all the sorrows of watching others fall or the world going to hell..were you really just asking for death? A difficult question, no one would admit to such, over and over again would one delude themselves into believing that there was some generosity and nobility behind it not a selfish desire such as a noble suicide.

His thoughts turned to Ms Brentley, how would she react? Heart broken he'd imagine, the idea that each and every child, born, orphan or not would be raised simply to feed the insatiable hunger of the horrors, to let them die on those fields painted scarlet in their own blood and here he was..willingly throwing himself into that maw. To himself it was a self-sacrifice in retaliation to all his feelings of helplessness, of having to one day watch any of them put themselves in harm's way for his sake..just like before, it was an act of rebellion..or something much more vile but to her? Few to no one came back from the nightmares of the war, bodies piled in graveyards where the numbers had grown so high that the honours of tombstones and flowers were lost to them; the most you could get were stones and crosses placed there as markers, your name not even written. To Ms Brentley—to them, it was suicide…

The engine rumbled to a sputtering growl when they pulled back into Rob's garage, his figure entering from the doorway as he heard the vehicle pull in from across the driveway, his face and hair much cleaner with a jacket and khaki pants finishing off his outfit; likely having bathed just a bit prior. They stepped off the motorcycle as the engine sputtered dead and Tom tossed his helmet to the side where it bounced across the floor and smashed into a few items, washing confusion and a twinge of anger along Rob's face as Tom pushed past him, "Hey!" he turned but Tom was already gone as Lana placed down her helmet but not anymore enthusiastically as Tom, starry eyes and a lost expression causing Rob to frown; "Lana—hey, what's going on?"

She looked at him, perhaps deliberating whether to give an answer but thought against it, a light peck on the cheek was all he got before she too left the scene and his gaze landed on Dust. A tense few seconds passed with Dust's hands laying the helmet down where he'd found them first, the record still in his hands whilst Roby followed him, his gaze questioning, answers being desired but after a few more seconds of silence perhaps he thought it unnecessary—too sensitive or personal and his gaze landed on the record in Dust's hands, scratching the back of his head with a raised brow; "You got a record player for that?" he pointed, Dust's shoulders eventually shrugging as he sighed between a groan.

"Doubt it, give me a minute" And so he waited as Rob dug through a pile of item's filling the garage and a player was conjured from within all that junk, the base was wooden and polished but covered with dust as the gold ensemble and dark trimming's leading to its trumpet with engravings of a fine nature flanking either side of its base, surprisingly the item wasn't hard to carry; "Should play it nicely"

Dust nodded, placing the record where it would be beneath the pin as he voiced a small thanks and left. Tom and Lana were waiting for him a few feet from the door rather patiently, their thoughts unknown to him but clearly not angry enough to have left him all alone without much knowledge on the way back, whether that was to avoid a scolding from Ms Brentley or because what they felt wasn't hatred, he couldn't know nor did he have the strength or the will to want to know. Better yet, however, Lana's eyes seemed to spark up with a subtle excitement as she caught sight of the record player, stuffing the complicated emotions somewhere else to be dealt with when she most felt like it or had no other choice to.

"You think Ma knows how to use this?" She asked, a glassy gaze sparkling with interest as they walked, his lips sealed in silence whilst she admired the object; Tom's silence prevailing through her enthusiasm, perhaps this was a feeble attempt at lightening the mood, thawing the ice between them in attaining a modicum of conversation but if it was then he wasn't buying it. Tom remained detached and although Dust's words chipped into Lana's ramblings and fascinations, it felt stale, it felt suffocating and most of all it felt cold.

When the door back home opened again, the sweet aromas of warm pastries and freshly baked pies wafted the room as they made their way inside. Lana had her hands clasped around the record player when they stepped through the living room, brandishing it in front of them where Ms Brentley's figure stood in the kitchen, turning to them as they set the item down on top of a coffee table seated in the corner of the room, cranking the mechanism as she stepped into the room, "Back awfully earlier than usual, nothing special?" She teased whilst Lana's hands having finally gotten the record moving as she set the needle along its paths through the record's grooves before sound resonated from the item.

If the world was dark and cold

I'd hold you right about now

Because you showed me the way~

Warmth that's deep and bold

It's hurting me right now

Can't let these memories fade~

There was a slowness to it, rhythmic and romantic that Lana's face was stumped at the foot of embarrassment as a wry smile creased her lips, probably having expected something more upbeat and fun with a subtle anxiousness that they should've kept this one to themselves as well although her worries seemed an unfounded level of anxiety, disproven with a sudden tug at her arms that pulled her into a steady spin where Ms Brentley caught her by the waist till she let go and chuckled; "Not a dancer~" she smiled, steadying Lana on her feet as she laughed, "you can dance?"

She studied the record player, the tunes resonating through the air although the song, romantic, picked up at bits in faster rhythms, easier to dance to, "You learned a lot from a few of the older folks, now where did you get this?" Her feet tapped to the song as Lana took a seat by the dinner table, Dust following whilst Tom retreated to the kitchen; "Robby had one, guess he's got no use for it"

"Somehow I feel as though the poor boy couldn't really say 'no' to you" she teased, succeeding if the objective had been to inflate Lana's ego as she grinned, all too happy in having such strengths in the art of charming before she eventually shrugged, glancing at Dust, "Nah, Dust got it from him not to mention the record in question"

She spun, the dress she wore fluttering to her movements as he was suddenly grasped by the arm and pulled to the dance floor, "M-Miss Brentley—!"

Her feet directed him, alternating his hands to the song's oscillating rhythm, "Come on, you should know how to dance" when she'd thought he'd gotten them hang of it, she let go, spiralling him into a simple dance as her movements mimicked his own. The burst of laughter told him enough about how ridiculous he looked, though there was fun in it, these past two days..he'd been having a lot of that. 

"Crisis, Stardust, you're as rigid as a rock" Brentley cooed after what felt like an eternity of puppeted dancing, she was slumped against one of the chairs beside the dining table whilst halfway through a glass of scarlet wine. He wondered, at some point, where most of this was coming. Foodstuffs, drinks and snacks had long been regulated well into the war, ever since most industries found themselves taken by the military in blustering their war efforts where the carefully calculated distribution of necessary nutritional resources had overtaken normal food production. There was no surplus in food, not like there ever could've been, most of the world belonged to the horrors and any places left for the production of food were taken to military affairs, he always wondered how they still kept up with normal consumables instead of a drastic shift to sloppy cans holding their basic nutritional needs although either way it was a miracle that Brentley held as much as she did.

Her eyes gleaned over the glistening scarlet contents, glazed over in mild intoxication as he pulled a chair from across the dining table and sank into it. He hadn't noticed it till now but Lana and Tom had long left, remnants of their presence visible in the lack of pastries and sweet items from before as the place receded into silence. She took the glass, downing another swig almost as listlessly as her fingers drummed across the edge of the dinner table. For a brief moment his thoughts turned to leaving, the visible lull in conversation only aiding in such thoughts but then again, it felt almost wrong how little he could speak with her. Lana and Tom seemed so open with her or at least as open as two teenagers allowed themselves to be in front of a parental figure.

It was normal though, he knew that much. Some took weeks perhaps even months getting accustomed to their new environment so what made him any different? What made him different indeed…

"It's nearly been three years since I've known them, you know? The little rascals, they've..changed so much. Hah! The record label, that's Tom's name there" she chuckled as he let out a tired laugh of his own, "Lana said so"

The snort from her was amusing, "He's had a scuffle over that for ages" she smiled, setting the glass down, a quarter filled whilst her fingers traced the rim of the glass, her gaze turning wistful, "His mother gave it to him, powerful woman I heard…"

"His..mother?" The comment surprised him for a second, of course he'd had a mother, why wouldn't he? What surprised him was that there was knowledge of her or more so, the gaze in which Ms Brentley spoke of her with;..lost…distant. Lana and Tom had been orphaned like himself, lost their family to the horrors or the war in its entirety but exactly how had never occurred to him. Her brows furrowed, "She—it troubled him for some time…" she trailed off, scoffing in dark amusement, "Gods, I never asked them to call me, mom. Bloody twenty four so what the hell do I know, huh? I can't…I have no right to try and fill that hole but it's every child's right to know love..to know a family, especially..especially when there'll be times where they won't ever have chance to know what it's like"

She looked him in the eye, suddenly making him realise how serious this conversation had become, why? Her amethyst eyes weren't fierce but they weren't soft either, if he had to explain it, it was an intense level of affection bordering on hard determination like she'd resigned herself to something, saw it only apt to do so, "I know what it's like, feeling troubled, out of place and I'm not here to force you to feel at ease with me" she looked down at the glass, its scarlet contents reflecting herself on its surface, "I want you to feel happy, loved, at home..—out there, Stardust, such things are a luxury no one can ever hope to afford"

She looked him over again, sighing, "Feel happy, I'm only here to assure that…"

It finally clicked, a talk they never had, it was common knowledge to her how these transitions felt; what they incited in the recipient's heart. The fear and anxiety, the pressure. She understood that on a fundamental level although perhaps had missed the opportunity of addressing it upon their first meeting, understood the ordeal enough not to delay the matter further than it already had, as unnecessary as he thought that was. What she was doing, what she promised, the least he felt he could do was reciprocate and show a similar sense of intimacy or at least that he was grateful, that he cared..

Her gaze turned elsewhere, not anything specific; likely clouded in thought or no thoughts at all. It was calming almost, a frown creasing her features soon after, "Tom was awfully quiet, did something happen?"

There it was, the question he wasn't sure he could give her an answer yet..or thought that he wanted to. His expression turned awry, fidgeting almost; "They're mad…mad at me"

She looked him over in amusement, the thought of that too ludicrous to take seriously. Her next words were a given, that he'd get over it, that Tom was anything but a person that held grudges though he had to wonder if that included this. When the silence festered from him, taking ample note of the lack of amusement, her gaze suddenly narrowed, not by much but slightly, "What happened?"

The words caught in his throat, taken by an inexcusable fear of resentment. You're throwing your life away, Stardust, right in front of their eyes and telling them to watch. He trembled for a moment, deliberating it before answering, "I-I want to volunteer for the army!"

There, he'd said it, resolutely at that though his hands shook at the proclamation. Terrified, he was terrified of what she might think, what she might say. Was she..mad at him too? His head lowered, too afraid to look her in the eye now. It was most likely suicide, try as he would to convince himself of a far more righteous cause it wasn't impossible to deny that perhaps that's all it was in the end. The room felt colder now, smaller, suffocating perhaps. He could feel her gaze on him or at least assumed that it was and nearly felt like running, the knots that'd probably tightened in her chest must've been maddening though words eventually pierced that deafening silence; "Ah..I see, that would anger him quite a bit"

His gaze lifted, staring at her in confusion whilst she groaned, "Though it's probably best to learn that for yourself, right?"

"M-Ms Brentley, I—" She held up a hand, a small smile still tugging at her lips, "This is your choice, I won't fault you for it"

His gaze trembled, somehow that felt just as bad. He couldn't see it but it had to be there, the sadness, the unbridled assurance that if anything he wasn't coming back and seeing her shove that down simply for his comfort…

She sighed, leaning back into the chair, "I told you already, I'm simply here for your benefit, your happiness. Did you come to this decision yourself?"

There was a short pause, "I..I did but—"

"Then why must I stop you, show you how much it hurts?" So it did hurt her, his gaze lowered, "Your life is yours, not anybody else's and I making you happy consequently means fostering your independence~!" She amusedly proclaimed, placing her hand on her chest in mock gesture as he held back a laugh that quickly turned to sorrow, "Why..why hurt yourself by taking kids like me—like us..?"

She smirked and then leaned in close, placing a finger on his chest where his heart was; "As I said, because out there, in times like these—what sets us apart from the horrors is having what lies here. I cannot and will not let those I can help lose what's brought us so far"

She smiled and then scoffed, "Or something else, do I need a grand reason?" Her expression soon turned forlorn, gazing into the glass again, "But you're a child, you shouldn't have thoughts like this so just what..just what has the world come to?" There was a tremble in her voice now, painful enough that a hand instinctively came up towards her but when it did her gaze lifted, her eyes brimming again and a smile creasing her lips before amusedly flapping a dismissive wave at him, "Now Run along~, if you're lucky then Tom's likely had some time with his head"

He hesitated, staring at her before lifting himself from the table with her gaze trained on him as he moved for the stairs. A heart, love—what set them apart from the horrors; Ms Brentley did all this so no one..at least in her power would never not know love. The now familiar yet still unfamiliar corridors stood before him again, ruined floors, rooms torn open like they'd been blown apart. He did this for a similar reason right? For them, because he didn't want to stand by twice, that was his determination.

The door to their room stood before him now, the childish engravings and initials, he hadn't even given himself time..time to at least learn what embarrassing memories this place had. He placed his hand on the door, hesitant;

Don't stand by a second time

When the door opened, Lana's figure had been propped against the wall with her hands dancing through the air where the familiar amber light resonated from her fingertips and wisped through the air but it was different from last time. The amber light drew form or at least imitated the shape of one, in front of her seemed to be the jumping form of a rabbit, crude and luminous but discernible to be so. She turned, her gaze meeting him before showcasing the grand display, "Neat right?"

"Can all mage's do that? My..teacher usually kept to one thing" He stepped inside as the rabbit whisked from her hands and bounded the room, ducking and diving wherever it could although at times it simply phased through the objects in front of it, "They'd likely specialised, kept to one thing like every mage does"

"Every mage?" He raised a brow, less than an hour ago she'd controlled the underground and hid the rotted corpse of a horror, now she was manifesting animals in luminous form so what exactly was her specialty? She chuckled, plopping onto the floor as the rabbit made its way back towards her, "I haven't specialised yet, then again I might become an infuser" she gazed at her hands, the rabbit hopped between them, rolled tussled through the air like without the slightest care in the world, "I mean, my magic has more control on the physical than anything incorporeal. What could your teacher do?"

He smiled wryly upon memory, "Create flames.." she laughed a bit, "A real fighter, some infusers take that route, use their magic to fight. I might consider that too" she smiled, a small lull in the conversation following thereafter before her gaze lifted to meet him again, "You have your reasons for this..right?" She asked, immediately he knew what she was referring to and frowned. He wanted to say that he did, he truly did but a part of him faltered, hesitating in the face of what he couldn't discern to be the truth or a well hidden lie. It could easily be everything Tom had accused him of, wanting to die, masking it beneath these new feelings of affection but then again he wanted to believe in his right mind that that wasn't the case, no, more than his concerns he truly did believe that but…

"I hope I do.." she stared at him, her gaze lowering to the rabbit bouncing in her hands, "I can be content with that, maybe, I can believe that but—"

"You're not coming back" Tom's voice interjected, "That's how it is, that's how it always goes and that won't change"

"For gods sakes!" The rabbit in her hands disappeared, her hands clenched into fists, "You're no different.."

"Don't—!"

"DON'T WHAT? Don't let you wallow in some misguided resentment because you're not the only one on a suicide mission?!" She scoffed, her hands trembling as her vision blurred, "…I let you do it, I said I'd be fine, right? Tom says he wants to protect the only family he has left, fight the horrors and I said it was fine..that I'm fine so why shouldn't I—"

"AND HE'S SOMEHOW NO DIFFERENT?! I'M DOING THIS, ME, NO ONE ELSE IS GOING TO DIE TO THOSE THINGS, NOBODY!!" Silence engulfed them, gazes now locked on him as he panted, "How many times..how many times must people around me choose to die in my stead…?"

Die in his stead…?

It shook him and then it resonated, resonated with his heart like no other words had ever done. Die, sacrifice, put someone before you. As a child, as people in a world swarmed by the horrors that's how life was; an endless cycle of someone close, someone dear to you, casting themselves aside for your sake. That was what this world did, his voice trembled, "Mom..Dad, my friends..all of them, they're all gone! And just when I found people again, after all this time…—"

"I lost someone too—" a fist slammed against the wall, his vision blurred with eyes now red and swollen, "Please…I don't want that again"

He fell silent, lips pursed as his gaze lowered, hands trembling in white knuckled fists:

But you can't do that…can you?

He frowned, Another person wantonly protecting you just like her.

I..

Who after that? 

Brentley?

Lana?

You said nobody else, you said you'd protect them…

He gritted his teeth, that resolve was faltering. Why did Tom not want him to go? Because he'd watched others close to him throw themselves in front of him, lay down their lives for him in a never ending cycle. Then what was he doing, selfishly proclaiming he wanted to protect them, to lay his life down instead? Continuing the same cycle, turning that dark wheel with his own two hands. Tom's gaze never left him, desperate for an answer but the sunken expression told enough that he grasped on to the idea that he'd refuse, sure of it..because deep down..ultimately they were really no different.

"Together…" his words pierced that still silence as Tom's eyes widened, "Together, that's how we'll do it. I..I won't leave you behind…"

He stared at him, wide eyed, caught between surprise and sheer disbelief as a cry from between brought their attention back as Lana hurriedly wiped her streaming tears, snivelling in a panicked attempt at pressing it down, holding back her wails, hiccuping as she did so, "I'm right—I'm right here..what makes you—what makes you think I can take it!" 

A small smile tugged at his lips, the tears unknowingly slipped past him as well, "We never did, right?" he glanced towards Tom, his feet having slipped off from the bed and walked towards them, eye's glistening with welled up emotions as he grabbed the both of them into a tight hug, "Never"

She melted in their embrace, still desperately trying to wipe at her tears, "I'm—I'm already due..for the Republic to take me, they'll—they'll need my magic. I'll stop—I'll stop hiding"

"Who'll light up my night light?"

"You—You wouldn't have me around after enlisting!" She cried as Tom laughed, none of their eyes met, gazes glued to the ground but they didn't need to; "We'll die won't we?"

Stardust remained silent, Lana's voice breaking through to Tom's question, "We'll—we'll come back, always will. No one's left behind!"

She lifted her head to look at them as theirs slowly rose, "Deal?" She smiled, placing her hand forward. His hand rested on top of her and then Tom on top of his, a teary eyed grin of mischief soon met them, "Just so you know, there's no turning back"

He laughed a bit, "Right..a promise, right?"

Tom grinned, "Promise!"