MY ONLY WEAKNESS IS A LIST OF CRIMES / open

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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]Here he was once more, planning to try and turn a new leaf, create some new start he figured would end up somehow better despite the fact he was still a mess inside. But he was feeling... not better today, but instead he felt like he could take himself out of his own shoes long enough to where he could block out his emotional issues. It was the same tactic he'd used before until one point where it failed him and created the mental domino effect that took him down and was now what he was recovering from. Or trying to recover from, atleast.


    Morrissey had fixed himself up somewhat, a bit like old times. He tried to tame his hair (actually, it was a cut mane) a little and the rest of his jet black pelt, and while he was still on the badly skinny side, their definitely was a better difference compared to before. Maybe he could see some of his old acquaintances. They were really like friends, truth be told, but he never could get the right amount of nerves to call them exactly that; in his head, Arcade was his only real friend.


    "Separating yourself from everyone so long, you miss out on a lot of things. You think the world stopped turning when you remove yourself from it but the truth is, it never stops. People continue to make memories and age and develop even when you aren't part of the equation anymore." Moz had always been a highly intellectual being. Thoughts like these, often, occupied his brain before; he knew it was the reality of it all and reminded himself, but that didn't fix his problem; the issue being he was afraid and worrisome of reality itself. It never helped one bit. But the reoccurrence of these thoughts was a good sign, as it meant he was becoming more like his past, healthier and more stable self.


    So sitting outside his residency for once, he could be seen with a box, one from when he first came to BlizzardClan. It was a jewelry box full of beads and string. "I can't stand it when contents are incomplete," he recalled, remembering saying that in the past while with Arcade and Hakuna. It was enough to make him be able to experience a small smile for the first time in months, but also stirred up the past thoughts regarding the new identities of the clan, what they were like now, how his past people were doing and how they'd climbed the latters of things and so on.


    Maybe he could find out sooner or later.

    since moz had gone inactive, ev had been cured of her cancer. tama had been turned into a magical girl, and her wish was to cure evergreen's disease. it had worked. but then ev had been possessed by a demon lilith. and here she was, her past memories all banished by lilith. "hello," she said as she sat beside him, coyote body shaking. it had gotten colder and colder over the last few days.

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    / OOPS HOW DID I MISS THIS


    Was he hallucinating? Maybe this was a dream (nightmare? no, waking was the nightmare)? But Ev was there too, even if she herself wasn't who Arcade had once remembered her. How much had changed? A lot, too damn much. He wished it would stop doing that. Morrissey had been gone and Hakuna and Sweet were gone, Tama had grown up, Matty had grown up, Riddler was gone and back and there was just so much.


    In every day to day moment, it didn't feel like much. Did he spend every last moment reflecting on the past? No, but that made moments like this far more powerful. Nostalgia and fear and pain, growing and burying him, but not yet enough that his exterior was affected. Not yet. His breathing was almost too steady as he approached the home he made a point of passing every day, just in case. More often than not he made the same pass-through in his dreams, only to wake with a rather bitter sorrow.


    Yeah, he'd missed Morrissey. Perhaps that was why Arcade was so certain this was fake, perhaps that was why he was having a hard time getting his voice and paws to work in tandem. His steps were taken on their own, his body reacting as it would if this was something different, settling him down nearby, tail curled over his paws.


    They both looked better than they had. Perhaps he should be grateful for the small things.


    "You made fun of how I was beading my necklace the last time I saw this," Arcade commented calmly, though the words caught even him by surprise. Pale green eyes flicked from the box to the black feline, fictional eyebrow raised as if challenging him to respond, prove that this was actually happening. That was what he wanted, wasn't it? So why would it be that? Why would this be real?

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 345px][justify][size=7pt][font=georgia]"Hello, Ev. How have things been treating you?" Morrissey asked coolly, however his jaw tensed up a bit as he heard Arcades voice flood his ears and mind. It was enough to displace everything going on in his head; now he was just a brewing pot of joy but also extreme embarrassment from their last meeting, which happened to involve Moz's emotional fit.


    Oddly enough, the result of that mixture? Anger. Irritation. Upset. The worst part was he didn't really know what it was towards; himself, his actions, or so on. He was just aggravated by the events and what they made him feel. But he wouldn't say anything venomously or so on. He just viciously bit at his cheek, not stopping as he struck the metallic yet salty taste of blood. "I make fun of a lot of things. I barely remember." Morrissey's voice was calm, painfully calm. If his voice then was a visual, it was an empty canvas; in a way, his voice was blank.


    Why was he capping off what he was feeling boiling up in him? Maybe because he didn't want to show he was embarrassed from before. He had, in a way, hinted at his feelings for Arcade but it appeared as if the other male didn't care (unbeknownst to Moz, the other male actually didn't catch on) and it was just a hurting and aching experience for him. The BlizzardClanner didn't want Arcade to know what effect he had on him though, resulting in his strange, censoring behavior.


    In Morrissey's striking blue eyes was that challenging look being returned. If anyone could read Moz like a book or atleast his eyes like a books pages, maybe it was Arcade. But behind the spectacles was the slightest hints he was upset, and not just because of his wickedly cruel, crippling depression.

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    Perhaps this was real, then? There was a strange sense of loss at that realization, though he couldn't quite figure out why. Not because Morrissey was here, no, Arcade was endlessly pleased by this. Why, then, was it so bittersweet? They both seemed a little freaked out underneath all of it, underneath the calm exterior. Cracks were starting to show in Arcade's, however. Tensing shoulders, almost defensive in how he stood, forcing himself not to move. Where would he go? No, he didn't want to think of that.


    "Yeah." The medic managed to keep half of his chuckle from vibrating in the air, but it truly was a relief to hear him say that. Unlike Morrissey, the cameo didn't bother to keep his voice from speaking for him. There was relief, of course, and another mix of emotions he didn't bother to decipher, chief among them worry and guilt, and perhaps something like sorrow.


    It was a forced action, meeting Morrissey's gaze even for a second, but it only took him that second to complicate things once more, and his throat felt as dry as the Navarro ground. Really, the feline was a terrible speaker. Eye contact, saying the right things, no, he tended to be a little too blunt, and his general pessimism didn't help anything. And really, falling back on natural sarcasm didn't seem smart at the moment. There was a long list of things he wanted to say, mostly full of things he couldn't make himself say. Didn't want to make this worse.


    Things had been easy when this was about the jewelry box. He could play it off as if he was simply glad he was back. This was no longer about the jewelry. This was the two of them, and there was a lot to sort out. Kind of like the jewelry box, contents unfinished. They could end up a thousand different ways, all of it depending on how they'd choose to finish this conversation, and the next, and perhaps even the last. Probably that one in particular.


    Arcade couldn't hold his gaze for long, not with everything that his throat was begging him to say. So his eyes once more fell to the jewelry box. He still had his necklace. He'd even brought it to his mother's grave when he visited, part of the story he wanted to tell. Did I tell you about Morrissey, last time? You wouldn't like him. You or dad, but I don't think dad liked anyone. But I never did look to you for approval anyway, you told me not to.


    "I missed you."


    That had not been what he had intended to say. No, something like "I was worried", something a little more cryptic than that. But this wasn't the time for that, Arcade had decided that already.


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    Who was this? Cami hadn't think he had seen this guy around here before, but obviously a couple people seemed to know him, especially arcade. The voluntarily mute Japanese bobtail padded over, going to sit close to ev, watching the scene with curious but usually tired amber eyes. He was curious to know who this is.