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Current Residence: Tazmily Village
MonologueMonologue by MotherOC-Quinn
Uneven bangs, darkened with water, were pasted over the eyes of the boy. They were only half closed; hints of glazed blue irises peered sightlessly from beneath his lids and the hair that barely touched them. A winter jacket, soaked and hanging loosely over his thin, almost lifeless frame, looked eerily out of place against the sand of the beach.
Shadows fell across his waterlogged form, and distant voices floated to his ears like the mist cast from the lips of the speakers. Quinn, however, saw nothing. He felt nothing, as if the nerves woven beneath his skin had been washed away by the ocean. But the voices were louder than even the waves that'd crashed over his head seemingly seconds before. The cold, perhaps, rendered him numb to everything but the sounds that overwhelmed him.
"Is he dead?" came the blunt question of some rough voice foreign to Quinn. A gloved hand, swathed in pink fabric, nudged him, thoug