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He'd hear the sound of someone partially turning the doorknob first, then releasing it abruptly before the knock sounded. Behind it stood America, dressed in jeans, tank, and flannel shirt with a pair of work gloves tucked into her belt. Hair braided and wrapped around her head in a crown, the girl looked ready for some dirty work more than just a simple walk around the abandoned streets of Deus's small town.

"Ready to go?" She bounced on her toes, eager and excited and maybe a tad secretive.

The pace America set was a swift one, and once they were outside she showed an alarming tendency to spin just a bit and almost skip and bounce on her toes like she was ready to start running at any moment. "It's a rough neighborhood," she answered easily and there was pleased laughter filtering through her voice, like that was part of the charm.

"Were you serious, by the by, 'bout moving downstairs?" She turned to him, eyebrows raised with doubt and curiosity.

"Well you failed," she commented cheerfully, "'cause that's always been the plan. A real house of my very own." And the way her eyes lit up at that suggested treasure and the pieces of a life coming together to reveal the very picture she'd hoped it would be. Arms gesturing wide toward the town, she looked ready to full on Sound of Music that s**t, but Taym's demand had her dropping her hands to rest on her hips.

"Obadiah Thompson, if you want me to sit still, the only way we're getting there is if you give me a piggyback." There was a not of warning in her tone that made it clear she felt this was an entirely reasonable outcome. Sure he was skinny as ******** and all, but America figured tiny and thin hunters were like ants or whatever. Able to lift like a dozen times their weight or whatever.

Peyton enabled that assumption terribly.

With a grin, America tried to settle down a bit, limiting herself to only the swing in her step. "I already talked to Marcus about it. He says it's probably gonna cost a lot in repairs over time but I can deal with that. As for safer?" She gave an unladylike snort as they entered the edge of the town. The walks and houses were all in lonely disrepair, the style of architecture varying from Victorian to slightly more modern styles, but obviously nothing that'd could be dated from the last decade.

"All sorts of people and things can be found in those dorms, and while some I love dearly? There's those I'd rather not share a roof with, all told. And if a Titan's rampaging, it's not like I won't be out there fighting it anyway." The girl shrugged and continued, "Plus I want something of my own, you know? I can deal with being fed and housed and kept for awhile, but not anywhere close to the rest of my life."

She accepted his pointless need to pick up and throw things because for whatever else Taym was to her right now, he still had so much boy about him that such acts could only be expected.

America's hand began to reach out for his, to pull him along as she led the way with utter confidence in her direction. It dropped before she even completed the gesture and she answered back, "I don't know fancy house names, Obadiah Thompson, but one day it's gonna have two floors and a little attic. It's gonna be white with blue trim, and ******** if there won't be a picket fence and a nice sized garden and a backyard and a tree and most definitely a little house in that tree because I am ******** awesome at tree houses even though you won't even go look at them and yes maybe there will be varmints but they're easy enough to deal with..."

The chatter threatened to continue on and on until they reached her destination.

She nodded and smiled, because ******** his irritation this was her dream. This was the thing that would make everything better. Didn't matter if the story was rough in the beginning or middle just so long as the happy ending awaited. "Yes there will be all sorts of ******** bake sales! Actually there'll probably be those well before cause the clean up and basic repairs for this place can be on the Moon budget, but more than that is gonna be out of pocket. And who the hell needs a timed sprinkler, that s**t's lazy as ******** security comment got an unimpressed look, "Just about everywhere I've gotten hurt here or near died were placed that'd be considered secure. The cafeteria, the sparring grounds with their so-called dampeners, a leader's office." There was an angry bitterness in her voice that hadn't been there when he'd first really talked to her in January. "No place on this island is truly safe, just people as far as I'm concerned. So I might as well live on my own terms and take control of where and how I live as much as I can."

America looked ready to go on but they passed by the school, and she went quiet at it instead. The current wreck and the perfect dream overlapping each other and after a moment she just sighed, wistful and hopeful but understanding it would be a long way off.

She sighed again but this time it was the one solely reserved for Taym. Walking past him toward the school, hand giving a brief little push at his lower back as she went, America commented, "I bet that was cute as hell. My New Year's thing was fun, but that sounds a lot nicer, all said."

Most of the school's windows were broken out and the brick and stone structure was blacked by soot here and there. The yard was full of weeds and the playground a thing of twisted metal and rust. But still, it was very much a school, and the front doors were open.

The girl was peeking into lockers, the few that weren't locked or too damaged to open. Some had little notes, and she had a distinct feeling that was a false backing. Closing one, America leaned up against it and watched him, eyebrows raised. "Why should it? This is one of the first places I'm gonna try to fix up, after my house and that slice of neighborhood."

Because maybe it'd remind people that at one point there were children on this island, enough to merit a whole school. This was a place to live and raise a family, and stay. This could be that place again if people cared enough to actually work for it and make it so. "Gonna be a real chore, but I think it'll be worth it."