scarecrows?? scaremen!, actually [day4, pt1, marik/arlo]

Arlo could feel his limbs quitting. "Dude," he's gasping, spitting-- glancing at his own skin and understanding more than anything why people call them blades of grass. He looked like he'd never witnessed a single allergen, skin itchy and raw and red and-

Marik. He wanted to kill him; Tavi had earned it. Tavi was- "So kill them." -speaking. Arlo knew it had to be some trick. It always was- y'know, barring the 80th? Arlo had only ever seen re-runs of the horror of living after death. Seen the way those who know they can't die pretend, pretend, pretend until nothing is left. "Marik," he should ask him what would kill him. "You still owe me popcorn." Because Arlo would kill him if he wasn't so thankful.

"You're- you've got a great voice to follow." He greets Marik.

He looked into the cameras pointing lasers at him. And Arlo has always known a wink from him is a wink from someone without a face. Some kid showing up with a fake gold tooth, eyes with bags so deep and dark that no one would ever find anything in their depths, limbs that he knows can be snapped in half without hesitation.

"Think they'll kill us, Marik?" Arlo felt small, gripped Marik by the shoulder and gasped.