𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀 🍒 ❝ many years ago, cherri cola was a killjoy, a sharp-shooter, and a dj giving voice to the vagabonds of the desert... ❞ rogue poet. father figure. kind soul.

On an assignment… [ Said under her breath, inaudible. ]

[ It takes her a minute, to process the other person, and her stomach is a flutter with a dreadful anxiety. ] … Interrupting, I’m sorry. [ Turning away. Pulling up her scarf over her head. ]

[ She complies, her hand subtly brushing against his—it could be mistook as a mistake, by anyone else. She merely nods in response to his order. ]

[ She nods her head more visibly—it’s better to keep a low profile, because she barely remembers how she acted as a ‘crow. ]

[ She hesitates for a moment. She /definitely/ doesn’t carry that any longer. She’s not even sure she had it when she came out here in the first place. ] … I believe it’s with the rest of my things, how unprofessional of me. [ She licks her lips. ]

[ She grits her teeth. Fuck, she doesn’t remember any of this. Shit, /shit/. ] I can provide it when the conversation runs it’s course. I must speak to you immediately after, it pertains to… our research.

[ A shallow sigh of relief. Just what she needed to hear. ] Fantastic to know, Korse. What a jack of all trades.

[ She remains behind him, as he’s silently asked; she places a hand just above her hip, near her gun. ] And you never will, Korse. I’ll be sure of it.

Sometimes the past haunts you in newfound and… /terrifying/ ways.

❝Batteries don't bleed Robots don't cry.❞ ⋈ Madame Director ⋈ Killjoys: California/National Anthem ⋈ Crossovers Welcome ⋈ Mature Content ⋈ 18+

hiding ; too afraid to leave her safe place, somewhere obscured by the sands and sun glare.

◽️: [ Needs rest, but refuses to sleep. Busy watching. He glanced up and through the smog, he can make out the faint glow of the moon. He wonders if Caro is looking, too, from the desert. ]

[ She’s peeking, from under the heavy bunker door, sand dribbling through the open crack around her; she’s quick to retreat, however, locking the door and sliding back down the ladder. She fears being captured again. ]

𖦹 mermay event. may 1, 2023-?? au details below.

she’s running on fumes and literature—mostly poetry books.

She’s nearly out of food, she needs to scavenge. It’s been quiet enough… She obscures herself in scarf and heavy clothing, keeping any tattoos or hair out of sight. Once satisfied, she pops the bunker door open, pulling herself out into the hot sands.

She swivels around on her heels, the sand muffling any movement she makes. She’s tense, like she never prepared for this moment, but knew it would come eventually. “K-Korse?” Her voice cracks.

All at once, she feels her body kickstart with a newfound energy. She bolts toward him, immediately throwing herself into his arms and cradling his face in her hands. There’s a sterile smell to him, something lingering in the distance.

She holds him, her hands shaking gently and her forehead resting against his chin. Her thumbs rub circulars against his cheekbones. “You’re home.”