Alliance -- A KOTLC Descendants AU

The Neutral Territories -- The Bridge

This is probably the first time Keefe has thought of the Isle in the Eternalian way.

As the Neutral territories, that is. He's definitely thought that the Isle is a cesspool of dismal downtrodden souls, although he's yet to get to the point where that's his initial phrasing, thank god. There would be no world in which he wouldn't accidentally say that to his gang, whether that be immediately or after months, and there'd also be no world in which he would live that down. All the power and unity aside, Keefe knows firsthand exactly how much dumbassery they're capable of. 

But driving away, on this mystical bridge? He isn't sure this is the Isle of the Lost anymore. The mix of fear and anticipation and stupidly uncrushable hope (trust him, he's tried) isn't something he'd ever experienced before. It's a little terrifying, actually, the way barely escaping the barrier has him feeling like they have a chance.

They don't. Their entire plan is probably flawed, going by Sophie and Dex's moods when they recollected back at the base. It's not the first time the Swans have put together a plan that's all flowery language and zero practicality, and left them to deal with the consequences. 

But, yeah. This isn't the Isle. This is something entirely new -- dangerous, scary, probably survivable up until it isn't. This little bridge probably isn't, like, actually a part of the Neutral Territories, but it also isn't the Lost Cities. He figures it was only fair he says it like it is:  the Eternalians only ever gave them their scraps, and this isn't something they want to own.

Sophie, to his left, looks a little bit pale. In her defense, she just had the biggest bomb ever dropped on her. He isn't judging. Instead, he ruffles through his bag until he finds what he's looking for -- some kind of 'highlighter'. It's not like Keefe has ever seen a real, Eternalian highlighter, but he had been imagining something like a pencil, or a pen. Not whatever makeup-y, brush nonsense this was. Still, he dabs the brush against the color and swipes it across Sophie's face. It leaves her cheeks just the slightest bit sparkly, but it's the best skin tone match Keefe has been able to find.

He thinks it makes her look a little fake, but Brant said that was normal, so he doesn't question it. He does, however, make sure to arrange her hair just the tiniest bit in her face, so the sparkles don't shine so bright cause the swoop of her hair shadows her face. Keefe thinks she looks pretty Eternalian, if the image he's built in his mind is true. 

If it isn't, well, then they're probably fucked, but. Eh. They tried.

Keefe is trying very hard to not think of the repercussions of screwing this up, but it's getting progressively harder. He's usually good at denial, what with years of practice: yes, the people Mum has locked in her -- not a prison -- base probably deserve whatever makes them seem so lifeless, and no, killing that guy yesterday doesn't make me a murderer and of course, I'll eventually earn Mum's care, I just have to try hard enough. 

It's just that here, on this stupid fucking bridge, it's pretty hard to remember how. To remember that some things don't need to be thought over too long. It's quite possibly the worst instinct to have right now. It isn;t a question of if, but rather when their minds will be searched, and Keefe has to get himself under control right this damn minute if he has a single chance at not blowing their cover. 

Sophie's eyes flicker to him from where she'd been watching the window, questioning. He figures it was pretty weird for him, having him bent over her for so long without doing something, so he just shrugs and leans back. Marella, across from him, is messing around with these little balls of tinfoil that they've been unable to identify, and Dex is on watch, carefully cataloging every movement the driver makes. He seems to have figured something out, at least -- he has that familiar quirk to his lips, too subtle for anyone but his gang to pick up on. He doesn't so much as spare them a glance, though, so it's not as if Keefe could ask.