Re: Looking for Jack: Evie/Wren/Luke + Jack
[Wren didn't like scary stories, or scary movies, or scary shows. Life was scary enough without those things, and she had a tendency to try to make life rose-colored glasses, small and bright, old things that were harmless. Herbs hanging in the kitchen, and music from another time, sung in a softer tongue. She liked hiding from the bad, and this wasn't hiding; she didn't think anyone could hide from this. It felt a little like Gotham, but the sun shone during the days, and the sky was star-clear in the evenings, and so it felt wrong. It felt like the two places had been mushed together, and it made her skin crawl a little. It wasn't fear, not really, because she didn't feel fear for herself like that, not much, but it felt wrong. Walking over graves, that kind of wrong.
She loved churches, the woman that stepped out of the car and followed Evie and Luke inside. Stained glass, and she lit candles every day since Silver died. But this church wasn't a church, and she didn't even blink at the dead body near the door. Dead men, they didn't bother her, and maybe they should; but they didn't. That man, whoever he was, just took away the last tiny, tiny bit of hope that this might be okay, and that was all he did.
Luke's voice drew her attention to Jack, and she didn't even think of arguing with anything he said. She knew madness; she'd been mad. Every day, she was still a little mad, and it didn't surprise her that she spoke Wonderland well.
Her whisper, when it came, was to Evie, too quiet for Jack to hear and a step closer to her friend.] Maybe leaving here isn't the best idea. One of us could go to the quarantine center and wait for something to bring back? [Which meant that she could, Jack wasn't close to her, not like he was to Evie and Luke. She wasn't sure they could get him safely into a car, and it was as simple as that. Luke would argue she couldn't do it; Evie wouldn't argue that, maybe.]