never really opting in

the most self-indulgent daemon-au character study you'll find out there — See Coire here? I gave her that name, — he said, casually, after rolling the shirt down the exposed scarred skin of his ribcage. — You- what? — Marty frowned, staring at the owl, who sat on the open case’s lid indifferently, her back to him. — Not your parents? — When I first went in as Crash. She needed a new face too, you know. — Su-ure, — Marty agreed without confidence. — I know I’m gonna regret asking, but what’s it mean? — Depends how you look at it, — is all Rust offered, turning back to checking his gun. — Whirlpool. Pit or hollow, — a low raspy voice suggested then, startling Marty a bit. Coire’s voice was something he heard so rarely and so briefly he did a double-take every time. — Or it can be blame, or fault. My personal favourite is damage.