you take the dark and carve me out a home

"You've got something there," Green motions to Black's chest, which has a splat of dark liquid across it.

"It's… oil. From the, you know. The rear axial. Distributor." He waves at a panel on the wall, a panel which Green thought was an extra trash chute, but evidently not.

"Thanks," Green says, and means it. "Sometimes it feels like I'm the only one who actually cares about getting us all out of here alive, you know?"

It takes Shiro approximately three days, sixteen hours, and forty-five minutes (give or take) to notice him for the very first time when the year starts back up at the Garrison. He’s just sat down with his tray of genetically enhanced…green beans (maybe?) when he looks across the mess hall at the table of new recruits. His eyes land on a thin boy with a mop of black hair on top of his head, and the first thing he can remember thinking is Wow. A mullet is a definite statement.

"A curse?" Yorak repeats quietly. Jiro hisses in pain, one hand tangling in Yorak's cloak, and Yorak nods to himself, as if coming to a decision.

"I can try to cast a-"

Block's offer trails off into silence. He and Meklavar watch on in shock as Yorak leans in, pressing his lips to Jiro's.