Where the Heart Is

An imagined Marino approaches Lani. The wound that killed her stretches across her chest. The world around the two of them has darkened considerably.

MARINO: Well? Are you?

Lani and Marino turn around to look at a line of cultists lying in the grass. They pave the path Lani had taken to get to where she is currently, and each one rises up from the grass as they get closer to Lani. The final one reaches up toward her.

MARINO: You should be. After all, you're only here because you took advantage of the carnage.

Marino puts a hand on Lani's shoulder. Lani is frozen, her eyes wide as she gazes at Marino's hand but does nothing to move away from her.

LANI: I– I didn't– The Courier–

MARINO: You really think a being like that was doing you a favor? They used all of us. They're using you, too.

Cultists' hands begin reaching toward Lani until they almost form a swirling mass around her. She attempts to back away.

MARINO: Any freedom is temporary. You exist to be used, just like everyone else! What makes you so different? You should've died like the rest of us!

The hands reach toward Lani's neck and face. She shuts her eyes tightly, attempting to stretch away from them.

MARINO: You–

ÍSJA: Lani? Lani!

Lani opens her eyes. The world is bright once again. Ísja looks up at her with a nervous smile.

ÍSJA: What's your favorite color?

Lani looks downright confused.

LANI: My... what?

ÍSJA: Favorite color! Everyone's got one.

WHEW this page was tricky! hands being an essential thematic element is fun until, well... you have to draw a lot of hands. i'm really happy with how it turned out, though!

lani be grateful that he didn't ask a more difficult icebreaker question


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