#I mean not for Eden. she told him it was a cult!

[heavencasteel420]

Not trying to be mean or catty, but I know it will come off as such so I’m tagging accordingly. The two ways I can realistically* see St*ncy playing out at this point are:

Jonathan dies and Steve gets a repressed bisexual Cat on a Hot Tin Roof thing going with Nancy (aka the Sad Stoncy scenario) (this might actually work eventually if they talk about their feelings).

Nancy gets with Steve because things are too complicated with Jonathan, who has his own issues to deal with and moves away from Hawkins. Only it turns out Steve has some of the very same issues re: not knowing what to do with his life. They’re not all tangled up in complicated family dynamics and ACEs, which should make things simpler, but they’re also harder to address because Steve is just fundamentally not that invested in deriving a lot of meaning from a career/education at this point in his life. He was kind of hoping that being with Nancy would change that, too, so he’s pretty frustrated himself! She tries to encourage him to go to community college or find something to do near Emerson, but he keeps putting it off. Worse case scenario, he gets it into his head that the solution to everything is to get back into his dad’s good graces and take a position at the…business factory? Which is obviously way worse to Nancy than her 20yo boyfriend goofing off for a while. They break up during the summer after her first year at Emerson after having an argument prompted by the movie St. Elmo’s Fire. It’s a relief to both of them at that point.

*Realistically to me personally. I don’t expect the show to share my vision.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Perdition

Bleeding in Moonlight: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five |

CW: None, really, other than someone eating pizza... badly. Oh, and some brief references to the FLDS cult.

-

“All right,” Vanessa said, leaning over her drink and giving Anaya a fixed stare across the table. “Explain.”

Down the hall, the shower ran. Eden looked back over his shoulder, thinking about how he’d had to show the kid how to turn the knob from cold to hot, and the boy’s absolute shock when he’d felt hot water hit his palms, stinging the scrape there. 

The kid hadn’t even flinched fully back, just turned to Eden with those strange golden eyes so wide. 

It comes out hot?

Eden had been thinking, ever since, about how it would feel to only have experienced cold showers your entire life. Assuming there had even been showers. He was starting to think maybe Misae had been hosed down in the yard.

Like a dog covered in mud.

Like a wolf.

He rubbed at his temples, a headache threatening. His brain kept trying to cycle back to the sight of the skinny young reddish-brown wolf racing through their camp, the bloodied wound in its back leg - and then shifting to Misae, naked with his leg bleeding, curled up under their car trying to hide from the man hunting him. 

He couldn’t reconcile the two creatures as the same, in two different shapes. Anaya, apparently, could just believe in werewolves in a flash, a split-second reorienting of their entire conception of reality not even bothering her at all. 

It wasn’t so easy for him.

“What do you mean?” Naya asked, her eyes on the window behind Vanessa. "Explain what?" The little black cat from earlier had shown back up and was sitting just outside the window, watching them, blinking yellow eyes in slow, wordless communication. 

Vanessa had said it wasn’t her cat. It supposedly belonged to an elderly neighbor. Eden wasn’t so sure the cat agreed with that assertion.

“I’m not trying to be rude,” Vanessa said, sipping the apple cider-whiskey-and-lemon-fizzy-water concoction she’d made and offered to them both. Anaya had taken her up on it, but Eden had begged for something as simple as a beer.

He’d ended up with something ostentatiously draped in chocolate and peanut butter that was pretending to be a stout, but fuck it - it was still beer. Beer that tastes like a peanut butter cup, sure, but beer.

“No, I know, I know you’re not, it’s just-... it’s kind of a weird subject for him-”

“Is he a Lost Boy?” Vanessa’s tone was flat now.

Eden and Anaya shared a look. Eden raised his eyebrows. Anaya shrugged, then turned back to Vanessa. “I don’t know what that means, Ness. I know Lost Boys is a Peter Pan thing, but-”

“Man.” Vanessa laughed, open and easy. “You never watched any of those documentaries I told you to watch, did you?”

Anaya flushed.

Eden snorted. “Well, if you told her to watch them, I guarantee she didn’t. Number one way to keep Naya from doing something is to tell her she has to do it.”

“Hey!” Anaya swatted at his arm, and he grinned at her, batting his eyelashes until she broke back down into giggles. “That’s not fair. You do it, too.”

“I know I do, but we’re not talking about me, are we?” He held up his beer as if making a toast. “Talkin’ about you, baby.”

“I hate you,” Anaya said, and leaned over to steal a kiss. 

“Gross,” Vanessa said, sounding utterly unbothered. “This is why I don’t have roommates, you know. So nobody has to see kissing.”

“You never kiss anybody here?” Anaya blinked, looking around. “But your house is so cute!”

“Number one - thank you, I worked really hard on the piece of crap falling down shack I bought six years ago, so I appreciate that. Number two… No. This house is my sanctuary, baby girl, nobody ever crosses this doorway who might think they have a claim on it if they do. And number three… Lost Boys are named after the Peter Pan story, yeah, but it’s… okay. Uh. How do I start… So you remember I grew up in Cedar City, in Utah?”

“Nope.”

“We talked about our childhoods like six times, Naya.”

Anaya winced. “Sorry. My memory is swiss cheese on a good day-”

Vanessa waved her hand. “Honestly, that’s fine. I’m just as bad, I can’t judge. So, not super far from Cedar City, you run into these… people. I was raised Mormon, not that it stuck-” She lifted up the cocktail she’d made for herself and shook it until the ice clinked against the side of the glass. “As you can see. My mom is still absolutely convinced I’m coming back to it, but that’s just Mom being her usual optimistic self. Anyway, not relevant. There’s this offshoot group near us, and they call themselves FLDS, but they’re about as Mormon as a sack of hammers. They’re pretty much flat out a weird sex cult run by old men who choose dozens of women to marry. That’s the Cliff’s Notes, it’s actually much grosser than that. But, uh, when there’s a dozen men that marry a dozen women each…”

Eden wrinkled his nose. “There can’t possibly be enough women to make that work.”

“There aren’t. Nice catch. Or, rather, there’s too many men. So they kick the teenage boys out. They come up with some kind of story, some excuse for it. One boy I met watched a VHS tape of Fern Gully in secret but made the mistake of telling his brother, who told on him. One was overheard telling a girl he thought she was pretty when she was already set to marry somebody’s grandpa. Another said all they told him was that he seemed kind of lazy at the worksite last Thursday. One poor kid just had the absolute freaking audacity to not even notice the girls at all, they decided that meant he was looking at the boys instead. Doesn’t matter. They kick them out, dump them on a road with a backpack - if they're lucky they get a backpack - and tell the boys good riddance, don’t come back. They don't have any documentation, they don't have any idea how to live in the modern world. Most of them have never even handled money themselves. Sometimes you’ll hear them called the Sons of Perdition? Ringing any bells?”

Anaya frowned, looking at Eden. He shrugged back at her. “Sounds sort of familiar,” Anaya said slowly. “Like maybe I saw something on the news.”

The shower turned off. All three of them went briefly quiet, as they heard the bathroom door open and close, followed by the guest bedroom door doing the same. 

“You might have. There was a big case about it years ago, that's what the show I wanted you to watch was about. In any case, I’m telling you all of this because I thought maybe you’d picked up a Lost Boy. Sometimes, with the Lost Boys, their moms have kids who already left, or a sister or something, and they can give the boy a phone number to call. Mostly, though, they’re on their own. My mom helps them, she drives the roads some days looking for the boys and takes them to a shelter in Cedar City. When I visit back home we do it together. So, yeah. I thought maybe that’s where he could be from.”

“I… don’t think that’s it.” Eden looked down at his beer. “We found him in the woods, like… deep into the woods, and he was coming from somewhere even deeper. Actually, he found us, I guess. We saw him hiding under my car from somebody who was after him. And it didn’t seem like the plan was to bring him back alive.”

“Hence the being shot,” Vanessa said, thinking out loud.

Eden nodded. “Hence being shot.” Honestly, he liked her - she was sharp and soft at the same time. He could see why Anaya had been so sure she’d let them stay, that she’d help them out.

“Well, my first guess was wrong, then, I suppose. But there’s all kinds of survivalists hiding out in the woods. Usually just a family by themselves, or maybe a couple related families who put together a little compound. Most of them keep to themselves and tip really well when they show up in the local diners, keep some of the farm supply stores more or less in business, but sometimes you get some that are alone in the woods long enough to get…” She trailed off. "Weird."

Anaya sipped her own drink - just the cider. She’d told Eden she was worried that if she drank alcohol she’d just flat out fall asleep at the table. They were both running on nerves and caffeine by now. "Weird?” She prodded, gently.

“Odd,” Vanessa said, finally. “Paranoid. Hostile. They’re the kind of guys that think we’re all microchipped by the government, or that vaccines make you pick up cell signals. Things like that. People who sit around alone too long get really weird. Or maybe they were already weird and that’s why they went out into the woods. I mean, as long as they tip twenty percent on a decent meal, they can live however they want in my book, but not if they're trying to cover up abuse, or something. If that’s where this kid comes from, well. There might not be anybody he can easily go to, relatives-wise."

Eden thought of Misae's scars. "... I think abuse was pretty much a given. You don't shoot at someone who's running from you if you're a good place to grow up."

"Yeah. Poor kid." The timer over the oven beeped, and Vanessa pushed herself to her feet. “Just a second. Hey, Strange Boy Misae!” Vanessa’s voice shifted into an effortless projection that found its way through every corner of the little bungalow of a home. “Pizza’s ready! Come eat!” 

She swept herself into the kitchen, leaving Eden and Anaya briefly alone. Eden held his beer in his right hand and let his left drift, until it found Anaya’s fingertips. She smiled without looking at him and grabbed on tight. 

“This was a good place to pick,” Eden admitted, reluctantly. “To find a place we can crash. You did good, baby."

“Told you so,” Anaya sing-songed, voice low and loving. “I’m always right, even when I’m not.”

“Aaaaand this moment right here is why I never admit it when you are right,” Eden said, voice dry. "Because you do that every single time." They clinked beer bottle and glass together, and kissed again. Anaya half-laughed into the kiss, making it awkward and bad and the best kiss, all at the same time.

He heard the softest scrape behind him and pulled back to see Misae hovering in the doorway, wearing Anaya’s star-sky pajama pants pulled as tight at the waist as they could go and a shirt of hers that didn’t quite meet the waistline, showing a flash of pale, scarred stomach. His hair was mussed and stuck up and out every which way. His eyes danced around the room and he moved in a way Eden could only call slinking, sticking to the wall as he eased himself slowly into the room. He limped, still, but not nearly so badly as he should have. 

He shouldn’t have been able to move at all, not really, not without crutches or help.

Well, maybe teenagers who turn into wolves heal fast, Eden’s brain supplied with hysterical false calm. Didn’t he say he heals fast? 

Misae’s eyes moved constantly, the whites showing around the iris as he took everything in. He crossed his arms in front of himself. Outside, the sun was getting low in the sky, sending blazing golden yellows and oranges that cast Misae in a light like reflected flames. It made his gold eyes seem to glow. 

“Hey,” Eden said, his voice gentling immediately. “Feeling better? Was it a good shower?” He patted the seat next to him when the boy didn’t move.

Misae looked down at the chair, back to Eden, and then towards the kitchen. Vanessa bustled around in there. 

Something fell in a crash of ceramic and Misae’s lips pulled back in a heartbeat, baring teeth that weren’t as flat in the canines as they should have been, snarling even as he hunched into himself further, self-protective, and pushed himself back against the wall. Eden could damn near see his ears suddenly tipped in fur, elongating, pushed back against his head. Was he getting shorter?

“Everything’s fine!” Vanessa called out before anyone could ask. “Just a second! Everything’s totally good!”

Misae’s teeth were sharp enough to crunch bone now. Eden couldn’t deny it - he was watching the boy begin to turn. He wasn’t getting shorter, he was shifting from bipedal to something that had to stand on all fours. Eden swallowed, hard, his heart beating so fast it made him vaguely breathless. 

"Holy shit," Anaya breathed, next to him. Her grip on Eden's hand went tight enough to hurt, squeezing his bones together. He wondered, in a kind of wild irrational flight of fancy, if Misae's bones hurt right now, changing shape in everything from fingers to spine. "Misae, honey-... sweetie-"

“Come sit,” Eden said, keeping his voice low. “Everything’s okay, Misae. She’s a good person, she won’t hurt you. I promise. Even if she tries, we'll keep you safe, I swear. Just sit down next to me, okay?”

Misae blinked, and the sense of something not-quite-human was gone in a heartbeat. No monster here, it was only a frightened teenage boy who limped carefully to the chair next to Eden. 

Eden decided not to think about what he’d seen any longer. Not even a little bit. Not even for a second. He locked that up in a box inside his head marked LATER. Or maybe NEVER.

Misae sat down like he’d never been in a chair before, lowering himself carefully as if he thought it might bite him. He sighed in something like contentment when he finally settled. “This good?” He asked, chin down but looking up through his eyelashes.

“It’s perfect. So was the shower good?” Eden asked again, just for something to say. In the window, the black cat kept watching them, eyes locked on Misae now.

Misae nodded, but he didn’t speak anymore. He… really wasn’t a talker. Most of the time, it felt like talking to a statue, a robot.

Like talking to a dog.

Maybe he never talked because nobody had ever cared to listen.

He shook that thought away just the same as he’d shaken off the last one. He’d admitted to himself, deep down, that this kid wasn’t completely human and he'd clearly come from somewhere awful, but he needed at least one good night of sleep to be able to fully grasp it.

Or maybe he never would. 

“We’re going to just chill out for a couple days,” Anaya said, leaning forward so she could talk directly to Misae around the obstruction that was Eden. “Just rest, and figure out what to do next, okay? So no worries about having to be on the move again right away. So just… think about where a safe place might be for you to go, okay? Maybe some people that could take care of you?”

Misae looked at her, tipping his head to one side, eyebrows furrowing slightly. The silence drew out. Just as Anaya looked away, Misae murmured something too low to be understood.

She blinked. “What was that?”

“... I don’t know any other place,” Misae admitted, voice rough, just above a whisper. Something like a growl or a whine just at the edge. “Don’t know any other people. I only knew one place, and it isn’t safe. All my people are dead. I told you.”

Eden needed another beer.

Desperately.

Vanessa returned, smiling brightly as she held a couple plates heaped with slices of pizza, breadsticks, and tomato sauce to dip it in. “I made two pizzas. Who wants sausage and pepperoni, and who wants barbecue chicken? Oh, hey, you’re here. That shower did some good, you look like a totally different person now!” 

Misae’s eyes flicked to Eden’s and then away. “Thank you," He muttered, leaning away as if wanting to hide from the attention. 

Vanessa showed Misae the plates. “Dinner is served. So pick your poison, kiddo.”

Misae’s eyes widened in alarm, and he turned to look at Eden. The sound he made this time was definitely, fully, entirely a canine whine. Eden could very nearly understand him.

Don’t make me eat this.

"I've been good," Misae whispered, begged really, eyes beseeching. "Don't make me eat the poison meat. Please, Eden."

Vanessa blinked, pulling the plates back towards herself a little. “Uh… what?” 

Eden cleared his throat. “It’s a joke,” He reassured Misae, reaching out to touch his shoulder, feeling the boy lean into the touch with something like ferocity, nearly pushing Eden off balance. He gave the boy’s shoulder a squeeze and felt him shaking under his palm. Somehow he ended up with an arm around those bony, thin shoulders, pulling him close and speaking against his hair. Some of it tickled Eden's nose. “She was joking. It’s not actually poisoned. Take the sausage one, you’ll like that. I'll eat it, too, okay? So you can see it's good to eat, and nobody's going to get hurt."

“It’s not poisoned,” Anaya agreed quickly. “It's totally, completely safe. We promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

"Not helping when you say the D-I-E word, Naya," Eden murmured. Misae nosed into the crook of his neck, whining again. His stomach growled along with it, the sound as loud as a whalesong in the small dining room. Eden's own stomach growled as if in response.

“I’m so sorry, kiddo,” Vanessa said, sounding stricken. “Oh, gosh. I really didn’t think when I said that, huh? That you wouldn't know it was a joke. I'm so so sorry. Totally normal pizza, one hundred percent not even a little bit poisoned. Just regular food for regular humans. Look, watch." Vanessa picked up a slice and took a bite herself, chewing ostentatiously. "See? Safe!"

Eden very nearly burst out laughing. Not from humor, not really, but just from a kind of exhausted hilarity he couldn't quite control.

Whatever Misae was, regular human sure wasn’t it. And his reaction to the poison joke made something in Eden hurt, absolutely certain this kid had seen some other people - or wolves - poisoned with their food before, maybe even seen them die from it.

Maybe the slaughter of his family wasn't the first time he'd had to see the ones he loved be killed right in front of him. Maybe it had been the last, instead.

Every detail made him want even more to know where this kid came from, and simultaneously want with equal desperation to never, ever know.

Misae slowly nodded, watching as the plate was set down in front of him. He didn’t move to eat, though, his eyes on Eden and Anaya as each politely asked for the type of pizza they wanted - Eden taking sausage and Anaya barbecue chicken with a side of ranch dressing, because she was occasionally an abomination. Eden loved her anyway.

It was a little harder to love her when she dipped pizza in ranch, but he did his best.

It wasn’t until Eden picked his pizza up and took a bite that Misae’s hands moved, slowly, to echo Eden’s movements. Eyes on him all the time. “Hot,” He commented, pulling his fingers back from even the slightest touch. His nose crinkled a little, which had to be maybe the weirdest, cutest expression Eden had ever seen someone make. “Hurts.”

“Yeah,” Vanessa agreed, settling back into her own seat. She slid a freshly opened beer across the table at Eden, who mouthed thank you and batted his eyelashes, watching her smile brighten in return. “Just came out of the oven. You really timed your shower perfectly. You can use a fork if you want, I promise I won’t judge.” She winked.

Misae blinked back at her, then moved one hand hesitantly to touch the silver fork at the right of the plate. He held it like a toddler who’d never seen one before, more or less just closing his fingers in a fist around it, stabbing ineffectually at the sausage until some stuck. 

Anaya, Eden, and Vanessa all watched as he took a piece of sausage with a bit of steaming cheese clinging to it to his mouth, stuck it awkwardly inside, and then hissed as the heat burned his tongue. Then his eyes went wide and he chewed frantically before swallowing and all but throwing his fork at the next bite. 

Misae next jammed his fork hard enough to get a huge chunk of cheese, sausage, and even a little crust to lift up this time. The plate rattled beneath his graceless enthusiasm. 

He shoved the whole thing into his mouth until his cheeks bulged like a chipmunk’s, chewing with effort and seeming to swallow the whole bite nearly whole. 

After that, he gave up on the fork, dropping it with a clatter. He used his hands instead, gathering the remaining pizza together in a sort of lump and eating it until red sauce smeared a circle around his mouth. He made soft grunting noises as he ate, maybe sounds of contentment, curled around the plate as if protecting it from anyone else trying to grab a bite or take it from him. 

Eden was the first one to find words. “He’s, uh… he’s new to pizza.”

“I’ll say,” Vanessa said, slightly faint. “This is the single most disgusting thing I have ever seen, and I cannot possibly look away.” She set her own slice of pizza slowly back down on the plate and took a drink without ever taking her eyes off of Misae’s feasting.

None of them did.

Misae finished every bite on his plate before the other three had even managed to finish a single slice - not that any of them even bothered to try now, too engrossed in the sight of a teenager eating pizza the way he might have torn into an animal carcass if he were in a nature documentary. 

Misae picked up his plate and licked the bits of sauce clinging to the ceramic away. Only when he set it back down, so well cleaned it seemed like it had never had food on it at all, did he seem to realize the others weren’t eating. He swallowed, eyes dancing nervously from Vanessa to Anaya to Eden and back. 

Eden picked up his slice of pizza and set it on Misae’s plate. “Here you go,” He said, voice gentle. His stomach turned over, appetite gone after the spectacle. “Go ahead and have mine, too.”

Misae licked his lips, looking uncertainly down, then nodded and tore into that piece, too.

As he did to Anaya’s barbecue chicken slice.

And Vanessa’s. 

Then he drank the side of ranch straight out of the little bowl, and licked that clean, too.

Eden might never have an appetite again.

“I didn’t know anyone could eat this much pizza at once,” Anaya whispered, sounding less grossed out than just deeply, deeply impressed. 

“I think he’s officially eaten a whole pizza by himself,” Vanessa half-whispered, eyes wide.

She set a breadstick down on Misae’s plate and watched him eat that, too, in three quick bites, barely chewing. “Where the hell is he going to put it all? He weighs like ninety pounds soaking wet.”

Eden closed his eyes. His headache was getting worse. He needed to sleep more than he needed literally anything else on earth. Too bad he only really slept well in the woods. Well, maybe he was so far past tired by now he could sleep anywhere at all?

“Wolves,” Eden said in a tight voice, “Can eat like twenty percent of their own body weight in a single meal. I saw that on something David Attenborough narrated once.”

“Wolves?” Vanessa asked.

The light outside was starting to dim. It’d be another night of a huge harvest moon, Eden thought. Not yet, but soon enough. He’d go outside and look at it for a while, if he could keep himself awake long enough. 

Misae stared back at them, curling into himself again. He flushed, but it just blended with the red sauce around his mouth. It really did look like blood, even starting to darken as it dried. 

He followed Eden’s gaze to the window, looking out at the oncoming night. 

Then back at them.

“Thanks for the food,” He said, without looking up. His voice was thick. He stood so fast he knocked his chair over and then half-limped, half-ran back down the hall. The door to the guest bedroom slammed shut behind him.

Eden exhaled, slowly. “Well…”

“That,” Anaya said, shaking her head, “Was definitely something I have never seen before. And that I hope to never see again.”

“Yeah. Uh.” Vanessa stood. “I’m going to… get us all the rest of the pizzas, I guess. Assuming I can stand to even look at it now.”

Eden hummed assent and took a drink, letting the blend of bitterness, chocolate, and subtle sweet peanut butter sit on his tongue while he stared outside. 

What were they going to find in the bedroom when they went back in?

A scared teenager with a stomach ache?

A wolf with bared teeth?

Or, somehow - impossibly - a creature who was both?

When he looked to the window, the black cat was still there. Still watching them, as the moon began to rise. It blinked, slowly, and Eden drained the rest of his beer.

It was going to be a long night.

-

@finder-of-rings  @burtlederp @deluxewhump @scoundrelwithboba @shrimpwritings 

@yassifiedinformation @wildfaewhump @whatwhump @honeycollectswhump @tundra-tiger

@dont-look-me-in-the-eye @there-will-always-be-blood @fangedcinnamonroll @pigeonwhumps

[lulu2992]

Hi again! Your answer to my ask about Joey got me thinking more about the "sermon" where John can be heard torturing her. I talked to my friend about it and I wanted to know your thoughts too, if you had the time. So John's four step plan to induct members into the cult are Marking, Cleansing, Confession, and Atonement (listed in this order from a note in Dutch's bunker). And from what we've seen/heard about Joey she's considered tough. John spends extra time with her because she just won't break, and npcs on both sides make comments about this. The timing of both her TV spot with John and the sermon where she can be heard are spotty at best. We don't know exactly when they were shot (though the TV spot is easier to guess) or how far apart they are from one another. But what we do know is John is torturing her (though the method by which isn't clear) and the sermon ends with her saying Yes in order to get him to stop whatever he's doing. I could be wrong, seeing as how John sometimes deviates from the steps listed and sometimes does them out of order (like making Nick atone without cleansing or confession) but this should mean Joey is a member now. That to reach the stage where John is trying to get a confession she's already been marked and cleansed, so all that would be left is John taking her sin. But... Joey never got a sin. Sure, it could be somewhere else on her body and covered by clothes, but nothing actually suggests that she ever got one. There's nothing to suggest that she was ever Cleansed like the Deputy or some other npcs either. Of course, whether or not she fully became a member (like Staci for passing the trials or Burke for walking the path) is irrelevant because she would have been rescued by the deputy regardless. So it seems like she says Yes and... that's it. She's not actually a peggie. We don't hear anything to suggest that she "broke" outside of this moment. And any amount of torture is too much, of course. No one would fault her for wanting the pain to stop. But it all feels like an inconsistency when we're left to imagine the worst, get told by Joey herself what a nightmare it all was, and then see her in her final bunker scene and she only looks slightly bruised, clearly changed but not broken. Despite her saying Yes she isn't considered a member by John or anyone else in his flock. Staci and Burke, to use them as an example again, are considered members. Staci gets to walk around and is tasked with different chores and can be heard conversing with peggies in some voicelines. Jacob calls him a Judas when he "betrays them" to help the deputy escape. Faith is mad that the player rescues Burke because "you made someone leave who didn't want to go." Obviously neither are willing members, but other peggies and their respective heralds seem to consider them such. And it seems unlikely that John would just keep her as his personal punching bag with how closely he adhere's to Eden's Gate doctrine (or tries to). That's the only other explanation I can think of for why her Yes didn't lead to her membership. I do think he has something personal against Joey, probably for resisting him and coming to arrest his brother, but his end goal is still to get her to join like everyone else. So... inconsistency? More than anything it's probably just that the game wants you to go after John first (despite being able to go in any order) so they made him as exaggerated as possible and made Joey seem like someone you'd want to save. Just kinda seems to fall apart under the magnifying glass, yk? Again I would love to hear your thoughts. Hope I got all my lore straight <3

Hi :) Considering it took several years to develop Far Cry 5, that there were more than 20 people on the writing team, and that the story and characters went through several changes, I suppose inconsistencies were inevitable, and that probably explains why John seems to sometimes deviate from the well-established Marking/Cleansing/Confession/Atonement ritual.

I don’t think Joey talks about ever being Cleansed, which is indeed strange. What she says even suggests she was taken directly to John’s Gate:

When they pulled me out of the chopper I thought I was dead. I could barely move. I saw flames, saw the peggies go wild, and thought y'all were toast… I tried to fight, but there were just too many of them… I was helpless. When they grabbed me... this person holding my right hand had a tattoo on her wrist that was exactly the same as the one my mother had on her shoulder. Funny what details burn in your brain when shit goes sideways. I screamed, they knocked me out... and I woke up in the bunker.

That said, they use bliss during Cleansings, so I guess it’s possible she simply doesn’t remember getting baptized. It’s probably just an inconsistency, to be honest, but that’s how I would rationalize it.

From what I understand, John usually tattoos people after hearing their Confession. It’s confusing because they sometimes use the word “mark” to talk about tattoos, but getting Marked simply means being designated. People receive a video and are “invited” to join the Project. And although saying “yes” is required and an important step, you only properly Atone when your tattoo is cut off.

But as you pointed out, Hudson never mentions a tattoo and doesn’t seem to have one. Maybe John never actually heard her Confession because what he primarily wanted from her was to sound in danger so he could use the recording to attract the Deputy, and maybe he stopped torturing her the moment she said “yes”. It’s also possible he couldn’t figure out what her main sin was and needed more time to think about it (and as “special” as she was, he had other converts to take care of), or maybe he was planning on tattooing her and making her Atone later but was killed before he could do it, I don’t know...

I’ve always thought her face was bruised because of the helicopter crash and not because of what happened in John’s Gate, but we can’t be sure. What’s certain is that she was in better shape than Pratt and Burke, so either she was stronger and more resilient than them, or what she experienced, albeit traumatizing, wasn’t as bad as what John wanted the Deputy to believe. He threatened to hurt her a lot but, in the end, yeah, he needed her alive and their goal is still to save people. She was “a challenge” but I don’t think he particularly hated her.

So she probably never Atoned, but if she had, from what I understand, she would technically have become part of the Family, yes (at least from the cult’s point of view; she didn’t want that). And because John made Nick Atone, I suppose that makes him a member of the Project too! By the way, since he, Mary May, and Jerome were supposed to Atone in the church in Fall’s End, that theoretically means the three of them were Cleansed and had to Confess at some point. The “Note to Joseph” (Seed Ranch) implies they were tattooed when Fall’s End fell under Eden’s Gate’s control, but you’re right, as far as I remember, Nick doesn’t talk about getting baptized or Confessing, which is strange. Jerome says he was captured and that John managed to make him “say things” before the Deputy arrived, so maybe that counts as a Confession. As for Mary May, a note in the clinic confirms she got a tattoo, and in the game (or at least in the files), she says:

Heard Pastor Jerome had you saving people from being kidnapped. John Seed did that to me. The fucker made me think he was going to torture me, too. Had me wait in a room for half a day thinking he was going to do it. All that fucker did was give me one of those ink jobs. It was messed up. You spared all those people a lot of anguish.

That’s pretty much what happens to her in Far Cry: Absolution. It’s weird John didn’t hurt her since Eden’s Gate believes “Confession without pain isn’t Confession”, though, but in the book, he explains she can be saved and join the Family if her sin is removed. Even though I don’t consider Absolution canon because of the discrepancies between the novel and the game, I suppose it’s still true that people only become part of the Project when they Atone, so when their tattoo is cut out. For whatever reason, it doesn’t look like Joey reached that step, so I guess she never really became a cultist.

[ohimesama]

1.14.23 Saturday

7:14 am

Morning,even the plastics for garbage here is lost,last time the small plastics I bought for kitchen was lost as well... I know Uncle Jun was the one was always checking the things in the kitchen...

The house umbrella is also lost in the kitchen... Probably, RV brought it somewhere... or I don't know... Uncle Jun is now taking his shower to be with George in baranggay...

What is the problem of Uncle Jun for giving away what we have here in the house, teaching the way, what we had have here...

I'm not a bad person, I'm not yet a rich woman to give him a hundred a day that he is not really cleaning, it is for John and John's mat when he cleans John's mat... But we are supposed to be a family here... But his character is not a family on us here... I'm trying to help him to fix his beauty coz it is Uncle Jun's dream to be an artist looking like on TV and I'm religious I'm not stopping him to achieve his dream to look like an actor on TV, that's why I told him if I have extra just model the "Silka Prodoucts"...My job is only 500 a day now. I hope Uncle Jun can have a change of heart to be genuine here in our family...

I also have my personal needs and my salary is not yet big... Planning to progress in a lil while... I need upper friends...

The last time I saw a small plastics hanged on the old store of Ate Eden but I didn't confront her if that was our plastics coz I just bought a 100 pieces and it was suddenly all gone.... In a way I don't like ate Eden but I have manners as their neighbor...

Me? I have aching left sciatica and headache...

8:06 am

I love dogs so much... I wish to have a wolf and a raccoon and a dalmatian and more siberian hahaha I wish... I wish and pray to meet the right one for me in the future not in a hurry....

9:42 am

Hmm...I'm checking all the receipt that I had have... So, strange that "DIY Store" in savemore , their receipt is not updated...I'm trying to find there is no 2023 but 2018,2020 and it's validity 2025... hmm....

10:17 am

Yesterday there was a providence coming from Uncle DD suppossed to be in gcash and I was stressed-out coz gcash wasn't responding... So, we went back to "palawan"....

Some added expenses coming from me... I need some reimbursement... I need to save money for something and for John of course...

10:42 am

I feel bitterish coz of the life now but thankful of course but I deserve more coz I had yaya's way back and I don't think so that I'm a bad person...

I mind my own thing and I don't actually interfere on other people's lives... I mean as long as you are not smashing me unfairly and I know I didn't harm you for me that should be the flow of the universe and let's value friendship!

Still having the unfair windblow trap cult of Manalo'Z...

9:16 pm

I don't like INC CULT....They made me stupid for 16 years...They made me feel ugly and fat....Still,hating the windblow trap!

I want to have upper friends...I'm choosy on women... I easily get jealous...

I need some attention on men that I feel to be with...

9:58 pm

This Uncle Jun,very lazy here and over reacting on rice and whatever.... He is having a split personality... He is commenting that the rice is wet, why is the rice is wet...

Having strange behaviour again...

10:28 pm

I feel fat and ugly... Having windblow trap and still thinking of money... Still,having aching left sciatica...

I feel insecure on skinny people,why they are so skinny? They need to eat...

I'm thinking of work and money... And I wanna see the calmer but brighter side of the world... Wanna touch a donkey and camel...

I wanna have starbucks everyday... I miss having attention... I feel bitter that I lost my xfactor... I'm not fixing and I really feel fat and ugly...

I wanna have a group of men that I like and I only choose women... I feel intimidated...

I wanna a mature men to be with, a real mature mindset... Who can analyze and see things beyond that other people or women are putting a wrong judgement on me.

I want a man who can see things beyond and I want a man who can respect my needs and things that I don't want...

[vendettapandav]

John Loves You AU notes

So I'm awake now and I've been seeing this Swap AU concept everywhere, so naturally, I wanted to contribute by bringing my own little interpretation of things to the table ❤️

Big credit to @zzoupz and @salmonandsoup bc they formed the basis for a lot of these ideas and I just wanted to build on some of the concepts bc they are insanely cool and inspiring ✨

John Ward - Charismatic, well-spoken, manipulative, but quite spineless and cowardly otherwise, John is a priest who can’t help but look at the world with scorn. He is of the belief that humanity is irredeemable in its current state. That no amount of prayer and penance can save mankind now. The only way for there to be salvation is for the world to effectively be “reset” by God once more. Much like Noah and his Ark, John feels that it is his mission to gather all those that are still able to be saved and are destined for the new world. Once he has gathered them all in his temple, The Ark, he intends to initiate a ceremony to unleash a “flood of angels” into the world. He believes that God will not be able to ignore such a sign and will “wipe the slate clean,” after which he and his followers will emerge in a new Eden and rebuild the world as God intended. Also, he wields a dagger in the shape of a cross (because that idea is cool as hell and I’m obsessed with it.) His cult features iconography of hoofed animals, especially lambs, goats, and deer.

Lisa Pearson - John’s right-hand woman and chosen “vessel.” If he is Joseph, then she is the Mother Mary of the Cult of the Ark. Having known John since childhood, she had no reason not to trust him when he told her the world would soon end and that he needed her help, especially when he was inaugurated as a priest and claimed: “it was God’s will.” She trusts John wholeheartedly to protect her and save her soul. She is loyal to him and utterly adores him, and she will stubbornly deny that she is with him against her will. She genuinely loves John, and she’s very kind and sweet, and non-hostile, unlike John and the rest of the cult. One should tread lightly though, as she is very perceptive, and she is very much a tattle-tail. Any perceived threat she sees will immediately be reported, and John will respond with full force to defend her. Even if that means having to stab someone himself. She helps John run the abortion clinic and harvest “young, pure souls” to use as messengers to God.

Father Garcia - Garcia is considered the guardian of John’s flock. He’s referred to as the Shepherd by John’s followers, the Angel by John himself, and the Reaper by all outsiders that try to lead his lambs astray. A senior priest, John took advantage of him during the lowest point in his life after the death of his wife. He deceived a grieving Garcia into believing that he could find peace again or perhaps even see her when the world was reborn into a new Eden, and all he had to do was play the role of Shepherd for his flock of chosen ones. Garcia was all too happy to accept in his desperation to find purpose and faith again, gladly taking up arms and fiercely defending John and his cult. He’s a stern, stubborn old man who has bought completely into John’s rhetoric and cannot be swayed, for he has nothing left to lose. He’s former military and he speaks candidly of how he served in Vietnam in particular. He’s also a hunting enthusiast, so he knows his way around traps and guns and will use this knowledge to keep outsiders at bay.

Amy Martin - Displaced just before she turned 18, Amy ended up being taken in by Miriam. Her family and she frequently got into arguments and fights about the fact she worked at an abortion clinic. Her parents threatened to throw her out so Amy went a step ahead and left on her own after they tried placing nonsensical rules and restrictions on her. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise, as Amy’s family became the first victims of John and his cult after they refused to join his cause. He believed they would be easy to indoctrinate on account of their grief over their lost twins but they resisted. As such, he ended up having them killed and used their corpses as part of a summoning ritual for some “angels.” Amy never learned the truth past the fact that her family was murdered. She’s furious and bitter and demands to be included in Gary’s mission to take down the cult.

Michael Davies - Left in the care of Father Garcia by a family who mistook his albinism for demonic possession, when Garcia joined the cult he brought Michael with him. Michael was originally planned to be used as a vessel; “a mouthpiece for God.” (Aka, he was going to be possessed by a demon.) Somehow, he managed to escape and was offered sanctuary by Miriam until Gary could properly exorcise him. Unfortunately, Gary was unable to do so and Michael ended up escaping their care. Now, Gary’s mission is to find him, free his soul, and destroy John’s cult before they find him first and unknowingly complete the ritual that will open the world to a flood of demons.

Tiffany Robinson - Tiffany is Gary's childhood friend. She was often the only one who stood beside him when others picked on him for his status as a bastard child. As they got older, they stayed very close despite their significant differences. While Gary went on to become a preacher, Tiffany leaned more into news reporting and writing in general and adopted an agnostic mindset. They still spend a lot of time together and she volunteers herself up as his assistant who takes notes for him and helps him edit and practice his sermons while joking around with him.

Gary Miller - Gary is a preacher, albeit not an overly religious one. He takes a more loose and accepting interpretation of the Bible, focusing less on God and more on the stories, encouraging community support and acceptance. His heart is in the right place, but he tends to come off as very cynical and critical of the Church as an organization and holds a bitterness towards established religion due to the way it was shoved down his throat as a child. He’s got a small but devoted following, despite his opinions being unpopular with most. When he’s not at an altar, he’s usually volunteering in the local community. He uses a cane (with a sword in it bc like I said before, I’m OBSESSED with the concept) to get around. While he’s mostly healthy, old age has caught up with him a bit and his left knee is in a sore state on account of an incident with some other kids in his youth that left it damaged. He’s kind, charismatic, a bit snarky and sarcastic with his humor, but overall well-mannered and good-natured.

Miriam Bell - Miriam was a devoted nun for decades before she had Gary. He was an unplanned child for obvious reasons and seeing as termination wasn’t an option (and she would have just been further ostracized for it), she was excommunicated from her church as a nun. This didn’t stop her from loving Gary with all her heart, nor did it stop her from attending a different church with her boy despite the constant rumors and nasty comments about her situation. She was the one who taught him to judge less and be more kind and tolerant. Her only regret is not doing more to protect him from the constant badgering from others who knew he was born out of wedlock. She’s a loving, protective figure in her greater general community and is a bit of a mama bear to all the kids. If you walk into her house, you will notice a lot of handmade dolls, a lot of old jewelry, and a lot of swords to go with the homemade cooking. She teaches self-defense classes on the side, and she still spoils her adult son.

Alu, Roger, Jefferey, Malphas - All powerful demons conjured from Hell to usher in chaos and the end of days, John believes them to be nothing more than angels. He’s summoned them under the thought that they will get God’s attention and serve as witnesses and testimonies as to why the earth should be flooded and purged once more. Tricksters that they are, they are more than happy to go along with his delusions and make demands for “evidence” in the form of sacrifices and ceremonies. He doesn’t realize that they’re not angels, and they’re just fine with that fact.

[hope-grace-serenity]

In Defense of the Deputy: Morals and Ethics in Far Cry 5

The narratives of recent Far Cry installments have been framed in a way that make the player question whether or not they’re truly playing as the “good guy.” In Far Cry 3, Jason slowly embraces the violent lifestyle on Rook Island, gradually finding the killing to be a fun power trip instead of the horrifying reality that it is. In Far Cry 4, Ajay topples a ruthless dictator, only to replace him with a revolutionary that is either a religious extremist or a person who has children kidnapped in order to make them into soldiers/slaves. In Far Cry 5, the Deputy goes up against a professed prophet in an attempt to subdue him and his cult, only to find in the end that the prophet was right about the end of the world. It is logical to think that if the Deputy would have just left the cult well enough alone, then that would have been the right choice, as it would have avoided the war between Eden’s Gate and the rest of Hope County, as possibly the Collapse itself. However, there is a different way to view it.

The purpose of this post is to convey that Joseph being accurate regarding the Collapse does not necessarily mean that avoiding confrontation with Eden’s Gate or joining them would have been the “right” thing to do. In fact, it will suggest the opposite: that the Deputy has a moral and ethical obligation to fight *against* Eden’s Gate and that the actions of the cult are firmly wrong despite the Collapse happening. While we as players can certainly feel empathy for the Seeds, their actions within the game make them the clear villains in this scenario, in my opinion. The Deputy deserves no blame for attempting to subdue the cult, and I will explain why by focusing on both in-universe rationale and looking at the narrative from a broader perspective.

The Warrant

First, we need to examine the idea of morality and ethics. Morality refers to a person’s principles of right and wrong--this is something that can be influenced by a person’s culture, religion, family, experiences, etc. Ethics refers to rules of conduct given by some kind of external source. In Far Cry 5, the protagonist is a law enforcement official with an ethical obligation to uphold the law and confront those who break it. Furthermore, from the perspective of a 21st century American--which we can assume the Deputy is, based on the setting of the game--Eden’s Gate commits several acts that cause harm and remove the personal agency of others, which provides the Deputy with a moral motivation for stopping them, as opposed to solely an ethical one.

An arrest warrant is made for Joseph Seed due to suspicion of kidnapping with an intent to harm. The Deputy choosing not to go through with the arrest would be bad from both a moral and ethical perspective. “Kidnapping with an intent to harm” is a serious charge, and can be a matter of life or death for the victim. Imagine if you were the parent or sibling of the kidnapping victim, and you found out that the law enforcement officials chose not to go through with the arrest of the suspect because they were afraid of rocking the boat. If that information was made public, the law enforcement officials would be rightly criticized for not doing their jobs, and for prioritizing their own desire for convenience over bringing justice to the victim. By arresting Joseph Seed, the Deputy made the moral and ethical decision.

As we see from the main game, the “suspicions” listed in the arrest warrant are later proven to be correct. Alex is killed, and his body is mutilated and put on public display as a warning. Hannah is tortured physically and psychologically, and is also killed due to her forced participation in Jacob’s trials. Joseph and several members of Eden’s Gate knew that they kidnapped the film crew. They knew in advance that Law Enforcement was coming. So, how do they decide to handle this? In a way befitting for characters who are meant to be viewed as villains.

Before the Reaping

Before we get into what the Deputy actually sees in-game, one thing needs to be made clear: Eden’s Gate always had an underlying darkness surrounding them. Regardless of what they looked like on the surface, they were never some peaceful hippie commune that was minding its own business before the Deputy came along. They’ve been committing crimes and getting away with them for years. They didn’t suddenly snap once the Deputy arrived--the Deputy’s arrival simply peeled back and revealed what was already there.

We know from the “Grieving Note” that Angels have been with Eden’s Gate for several years, longer than the current Faith has been with the group. Angels are humans who are exposed to an extreme amount of the Bliss drug, which causes them to lose their capacity for human thought and essentially act as a literal mindless follower. Their loss of identity and individuality is furthered by Eden’s Gate shaving the heads of the Angels and surgically removing their ability to speak. They act as slave labor--described as "beasts of burden"--and are fed dog food and garbage. The idea of becoming an angel is used as a threat to fellow cultists in the “Cult Note” in the King’s Hot Springs Hotel. The fact that Eden's Gate creates and condones the existence of these Angels is truly disturbing from a moral perspective, due to the inherent exploitation and dehumanization. When Angels die, their bodies are tossed in a pit of “boiling muck” in Horned Serpent Cave to disintegrate.

Angels aren’t the only ones thrown in the pit to disintegrate: Joseph threw the body of Lana, a previous Faith, in there as well, despite being told by him that she was “special.” There is a reason the writers chose to highlight that the bodies were disposed of in here, as opposed to the cult simply burying them. Bodies are disintegrated if you want to hide evidence, and by tossing the bodies in a location with properties dangerous enough to require a bio-hazard sign, any crimes are easily covered up. We don’t find the bodies of Selena or the other previous Faiths who were "used up and thrown away" by Joseph, but considering there are hints that point to foul play (disintegration of Lana’s body, Megan leaving out of fear of what Joseph could do after seeing that there was a new Faith, the way the position itself is dehumanized, the fact that Joseph has a designated corpse disposal spot in the first place, etc.) and absolutely zero evidence towards any kind of alternate fate for the previous Faiths, it’s easy to put two and two together and conclude that the previous Faiths met a grisly fate that was covered up as well.

Eden’s Gate was also involved in animal abuse through the creation of Judges, which were unleashed after the reaping. These animals were kidnapped and forcibly exposed to an obscene amount of the Bliss drug, which purposely causes them to act like rabid killers in the service of Eden’s Gate. According to NPCs, they were trained to hunt humans.

Let’s also not forget that Joseph personally gorged a guy’s eyes out for being a traitor. If the developers didn’t want us to view Joseph as someone who was capable of doing that, then they would have removed it from the introductory video, but they didn’t. Also, the fact that Eden’s Gate has been planning for the Reaping for a while now shows that this group had the intent to launch a large-scale attack from before the Deputy even arrived at the compound.

And last but certainly not least, YEARS before the events of FC5, Jacob sent the Cook to kidnap Jess’s family. The Cook starved the family for days before torturing the parents and children by playing sick mind games and feeding the parents' flesh to their children. After all their toes were cut off, the parents were set on fire in front of their kids. The fact that this happened years ago, and this Cook is still with the group, is quite telling and reveals a lot about the morality and priorities of Eden’s Gate. If they wanted to get rid of him, they would have.

So as we can see, Eden’s Gate has no moral high ground to stand on at the start of the game. Not only is Joseph guilty of the crime he is accused of, but he and his organization are guilty of so much more, and have been for years. These actions committed by Eden’s Gate violate numerous laws and are morally wrong, as they bring severe harm to others and/or forcibly remove another’s personal agency for the convenience of the cult. The Deputy uncovers all of this throughout the course of the game.

During the Reaping

Knowledge of Eden’s Gate’s past crimes would be reason enough to take down this cult, but the Deputy also sees the current horrors firsthand. During the Reaping, cultists kidnap, torture, mutilate, and murder numerous unwilling participants. They steal supplies and were willing to kidnap a beloved pet dog in order to perform experiments on him and turn the poor dog into a savage killer, after killing his owners. Defaced corpses are decorated and strung up as warnings. Some citizens of Hope County are fed to Judges, while others are turned into Angels or are forced to leap off a giant statue. If someone doesn’t convert to the religion of Eden’s Gate, then they are either tortured or drugged until they give in, or murdered.

The Deputy has zero incentive to walk away from this conflict. Why would they? As a deputy of Hope County, they have a moral and ethical obligation to protect the county’s citizens, and those citizens are under attack by Eden’s Gate. Eden’s Gate are the aggressors in this scenario. *They* are the ones who are kidnapping, murdering, torturing, and brainwashing the Hope County citizens. As far as the Deputy is aware at the beginning of the game, they are the only remaining police officer and only person in a position of authority to fight against the cult. It is their responsibility to fight against the people causing grievous harm to the county.

Throughout the game, the Deputy’s personal encounters with the heralds further reinforce the idea that Eden’s Gate is dangerous and beyond reason. While confessions can and should be voluntary, John does not approach it in that way. John kidnaps, terrorizes, and tortures the hardened Joey Hudson to the point of tears, and brings the Deputy to his torture dungeon where he once pried confessions under duress from prior individuals of the county. He kidnapped the Deputy in order to forcibly baptize them to the point where they might have drowned without Joseph’s interference, and captures them in order to make them confess, using the presence of Hudson as leverage (Hudson’s misery was also used as incentive on the video to draw the Deputy to the Holland region). He lures the Deputy to the church in the same way (by kidnapping their friends) and then permanently modifies their body against their will. Despite his proclaimed desire to have the Deputy atone, John also expresses desire to see the Deputy dead on occasion, such as after they destroy his sign.

While it might be easier for the player to sympathize with John due to his backstory and dynamic with Joseph, from the Deputy’s in-universe perspective, his instability represents a very real, tangible threat not only to them, but to the people of Hope County as a whole. At every turn, John has either imposed his will onto the Deputy by removing opportunities for agency and/or harming others. The Deputy owes John nothing. Any "choice" he gives of saying "Yes" is undermined by the massive amount of strings attached. It is difficult to envision a reason why the Deputy would decide to give into John’s philosophy, aside from faking it in order to protect their allies. This is a failing on John's part, not the Deputy.

Like John, Faith also expresses a desire for the Deputy to give in to Eden's Gate. But unlike John, she initially appears to the Deputy in a more pacifistic, less confrontational way. Despite this, the Deputy is still able to see her darker side due to her views on the Angels and fate of the unfortunate souls who walk the path whipping themselves and take a literal leap off of the statue of Joseph. Furthermore, she overrides the Deputy’s agency through the use of Bliss, which drastically warps one’s perception of reality. The Bliss that she now controls makes the horrific creation of Angels possible, and this Bliss is also used during baptisms, which muddles the issue of personal agency and consent to John’s process in addition to her own conversion process. The dangers of the Bliss and how it affects one’s thought process become highlighted in the Henbane region, and letters, voicemails, and NPC chatter show that Faith is not one to be trifled with. This comes to a head when Faith brainwashes the Sheriff and manipulates the Marshall into killing Virgil before killing himself. While it’s easy to have sympathy for Faith and her experiences, from the Deputy’s perspective, Faith is still a potential danger, which is why they step back when she leaned toward them during her death scene.

Jacob too removes the Deputy’s personal agency by literally brainwashing them and turning them into a tool that he can command, which eventually results in the Deputy being forced to kill a friend. He forced captives into competing against each other in life or death trials. He keeps the Deputy in a cage with a dead body and feeds them “mystery meat” after seven days of starving them while telling them a story about how he cannibalized his friend. The Judges are his brainchild that he sends to attack and kill others. Like John, Jacob also kidnapped and tortured a fellow police officer, to the point where they act like a slave to Jacob’s whims. Jacob has not done anything other than convincing the Deputy that he is a threat.

It is not the Deputy's job to fix the Seeds' personal issues--it's their job to protect Hope County. Throughout their journey, the Deputy sees various atrocities being committed, both to strangers and to themselves and the people they care about. There is zero reason for the Deputy to genuinely give in to the Seeds and join Eden's Gate, considering the horrible way they were treated and how they saw others being treated.

Joseph and the Voice

The Deputy’s presence did not *force* Eden’s Gate to start the Reaping. *Joseph* was the one to initiate it as a reaction to the Deputy’s presence, and all of Eden’s Gate followed him lockstep. When given the opportunity to finally confront and arrest the man responsible or walk away, it almost feels laughable that it’s even a choice at this point.

As leader of Eden’s Gate, Joseph oversees all parts of the Project. The buck stops with him. If he had any issues with Faith’s Angels, or Jacob’s trials, or John’s torture, he could have and would have said something--such as when he intervenes during the baptism--but he doesn’t. Because it furthers the goal of the Project, he doesn’t see any issue with these actions and feels they are justified.

Joseph’s vision of the Collapse coming true doesn’t mean that his actions throughout the game have greater inherent morality than the Deputy. It just means that he’s right about the Collapse. Regarding the Reaping, I do not believe that Joseph was motivated by a sense of cruelty, but that doesn’t change how many of the actions he participated in and oversaw *were* cruel. In real life, we see various examples of some people (not just in religious institutions, but in positions of authority in general) who commit harmful acts for the sake of a perceived “greater good.” And many of those people genuinely believe in what they are doing, believe they are in the right. But that doesn’t mean they actually are.

Which brings us to the elephant in the room: the Voice. If the Voice of God supports Joseph, then surely the deputy is automatically the “bad guy” for opposing him, right?

Wrong.

First, we have to be willing to admit that we know next to nothing about the Voice. The only things we know about it is what is conveyed to us by Joseph. We do not know the exact wording of what the Voice says, the level of detail it gives him regarding expectations (if any), or even what it is. Is it the voice of God? Satan? A real angel? Some kind of eldritch entity from another dimension? How accurate is Joseph's reiteration or interpretation? Sometimes it seems to directly tell Joseph things (hence the title, “the Voice”), other times it shows him visions. Clearly, there is some kind of supernatural component, as it allows Joseph to see the future, but since we don’t know much about it specifically, we can’t automatically assume or attribute inherent benevolence or morality to it.

Second, it’s entirely possible for a genuine prophet of God (assuming the Voice does indeed belong to a benevolent creator), or those who have/had God’s favor, to engage in morally questionable behavior, both in the eyes of God and/or in the eyes of 21st century readers. While the Project at Eden’s Gate is its own distinct religion, it takes most of its cues from Christianity, both in terms of practices and beliefs. In the Bible, King David had a man murdered so he could sleep with that man’s wife. Jonah wanted the entire population of a city to be killed off instead of having them repent. Jacob (the Biblical figure) deceives his father into giving him a birthright that belonged to his brother, and shows blatant favoritism to one son which ends up causing a lot of internal strife within the family. It’s fully within the realm of possibility that Joseph’s actions are not meant to be endorsed, either by the Voice itself or by the narrative in a broader sense.

In New Dawn, Joseph alludes to his own personal failings by saying, “My soul has become a cancer. I am a monster. I only spread suffering and death in the name of God.” The death of his son and the destruction of New Eden act as a moment of awakening for Joseph, as he finally realizes the harsh reality of his actions and how they affect others. He then expresses a desire for death and says, “There is only the justice of God’s hand.” The implication of “justice” being done indicates that the Voice (“God”) would not be happy with some of the actions that Joseph did. So while Joseph’s actions in FC5 were done with the intent of serving the Voice, his execution of these ideas was something that Joseph feels God would not like, as his actions spread death and suffering.

And thirdly, we have to remember that the Deputy and the player are viewing the idea of morality from the perspective of a 21st century human. Let’s say that, hypothetically, the Voice specifically instructed and condoned the erasure of free will/murders/kidnappings/etc. for whatever reason, and by enacting them, Joseph and Eden’s Gate were “just following orders.” Does this absolve Joseph and Eden's Gate of responsibility? No. Willing participation in the crimes committed, even if it wasn’t “their idea,” can still have legal consequences and can still be viewed as “bad” from a moral perspective because of the results of those actions.

The Collapse

It has been discussed elsewhere (on this site and in outside articles/discussions about the game) that the actions of the deputy correspond with the role of the Lamb in Revelations, and by breaking the seals, the Deputy’s actions supernaturally trigger the Collapse. This interpretation is fairly popular, and is one I personally support. However, I do not feel as though this interpretation lessens the morality of the Deputy's actions. Their decision to fight the Seeds is still the right one, regardless of whether or not their actions resulted in some kind of cosmic game of dominos.

First off, when the Deputy is attempting to take down the Seeds and protect the people of Hope County, they are not doing this with the intent of playing a role in a cosmic prophecy that will result in the death of millions. They’re looking at the situation from a human perspective, and acting accordingly and sensibly. The Seeds, on the other hand, were willingly harming innocents both before and during the Reaping.

Second, if there's a need to assign blame to a human for starting the Collapse (and I personally don't think there needs to be), it would be the Seeds, not the Deputy. The Sheriff and the deputies wouldn’t have arrived with the arrest warrant if the Seeds were not kidnapping and doing other illegal actions.

And thirdly, if one does attribute blame of the Collapse to the Deputy, then one also must attribute the birth of the new world to them as well. Following along with the idea that the events of FC5 are a fulfillment of Revelations, then the Collapse is ultimately viewed as a Good Thing within in the context of the Book of Revelations, even if the player might not personally share the sentiment. The Book of Revelations describes how the new world that is supposed to emerge from the ashes of the old is meant to be much better than the one before. And if we look at the world of New Dawn--and I’m going to copy and paste something I wrote previously here---Nature is allowed to flourish, people work together and support each other in a tight community, all the social ills mentioned in the Book of Joseph (and by the characters in-game) no longer exist. The only “snakes in the garden” would be the Highwaymen, and they are abolished by the Captain, who Joseph prophesizes to be some kind of Messiah-like figure. The final scene of New Dawn is one of hope, where the characters talk about building a better future. The way Joseph and Ethan’s storyline ends also connects to the whole idea of breaking away from the past and moving forward. If one believes that the Deputy is responsible for the Collapse, then this new world shown in New Dawn and the context of Revelations complicates the idea of viewing the Deputy's actions as being inherently bad.

Some might also argue that the Deputy has responsibility for not taking Joseph's warnings more seriously. Why though? Why should the Deputy attribute more credibility to Joseph's claims than, say, those of Marshall Applewhite or David Koresh? As players who know the ending, it’s easy for us to say that the Deputy should have listened to Joseph's warning about the Collapse, but there’s no in-universe rationale for the Deputy to do so. Issues of belief aside, Eden’s Gate’s actions alone are enough to paint an extremely negative picture of the group and would be enough to make any regular person not want to associate with them.

Under the framework of the Revelations prophecy being the intended interpretation of the game events though, I personally don't feel that any character "deserves" blame for the Collapse happening, not even the Seeds. I blame the Seeds for what they do to people within the game and before the events of FC5. And my perception of the Deputy is based on what we see in the game as well. But again, the Revelations prophecy idea is simply one way to view the game. Regardless of whether or not this interpretation is the correct one, the deputy still has the moral high ground in their fight against the Seeds.

Conclusion

Joseph being right about the Collapse does not mean that his (and by extension, Eden’s Gate’s) actions during FC5 were justified, and the Deputy should not be blamed for fighting against them. Just as the Deputy made a choice to arrest Joseph, Joseph made the choice to react in the worst way possible with the Reaping. Eden’s Gate were the aggressors who were kidnapping, torturing, and murdering people throughout the county. The Deputy fights against Eden’s Gate as a direct result of *Eden's Gate's* actions. The Deputy deserves no blame or guilt for killing the Seeds and destroying their bases of operations, as they reacted in a logical way based on the quality of information they had at the time.

In New Dawn, the Deputy expresses an extreme amount of guilt, which transforms them into the Judge. This guilt is misplaced and should be attributed to the other resident of the bunker, which is something Joseph himself even alludes to during his final speech in New Dawn when he criticizes his own actions. If Eden’s Gate did not start attacking the people of Hope County, the bunkers would still be standing, and the Seeds and many other cultists would still be alive. But they did, so they’re not.

While I adore all four of the Seeds as characters and have varying degrees of sympathy for them, they are firmly villains within the context of the story due to their actions. The deputy is not a bad guy for trying to stop them. The fact the Seeds sided with a guy who kidnapped and starved a family, then fed the parents' flesh to their children while playing “this little piggy” with the parents’ toes, and then murdered said parents in front of their children should speak for itself.

TL;DR: The deputy’s decision to confront Joseph instead of walking away was the right one.

[baptst]

okay here's what i hone in on most in the absolution novel

firstly all the w’s the cult keeps getting from the absolute START is just so funny to me lmaooo. just when you think a member of the resistance is about to one up the cult, you are slammed right back into the ground and told no. it really hammers in on the concept that nothing you do changes anything. 

john apparently has a lil house/space on joseph’s island for atonements and a whole ass room with human skin stapled to the walls. so he just,,, does this shit wherever lmao. his ranch, the bunker, the compound. i'd had a feeling he would have kept the sins Somewhere and i’m glad my hunch was correct. It makes sense for it to be on the island too. it’s the cult epicenter, so to speak. it’s where joseph’s main church is (though there were others before hand dotted throughout hope county) newbies would probably be indoctrinated there too. 

secondly, miss holly. she was helpful to the cult throughout, but she still openly blabbed to will about 1) sleeping with john and 2) that john was saying shit to her WAY above her pay grade that he absolutely should not be telling her. she’s huge a liability, no matter how much she believes in their cause or tried to help after will deserted them. she’s also never mentioned again outside of that once in game instance so it’s safe to say she’s dead for security reasons.

john is such a master puppeteer like,,, if he didn’t love joseph so much my mans could easy take over and run shit himself (i mean,, he kind of is already. eden’s gate wouldn’t be anything without his expertise and financial aid) john manipulates the situation with mary may and drew, using his murder to blackmail her into silence, should she ever try to rise against them again. pre-reaping john is an absolute force to be reckoned with, even more so than in game. he’s super talky in game but i would have loved to hear more from him, especially in a setting of atonement. as seen in the snippets i shared a few days ago he is just flawless in the way he speaks and pulls you in. he uses everything he can about you against you in a way that can either feel sadistic or compassionate. it’s *chefs kiss* 

as i said in my last post, i love that john’s out doin’ shit in the woods. we know he’s a busy bee anyway since he’s basically the cult’s spokesperson and going door to door trying to buy up every property in HC. it’s just nice to actually hear about him doing this shit.

also will’s still out there in the wilds. it would have been kind of fun to run into him in some capacity, like finding one of his camps. i know you can visit his old house tho (which they’ve called traitors bluff) which is something at least. considering he was slowly succumbing to some illness in the novel, he might not have survived long enough to see the collapse. if he did he would have been far enough into the mountains to get vaporized instantly.

[huskeddevotee]

Borderlands 3 and the Powerful Man + Crush on woman = Powerful Woman phenomenon

A common complaint in BL3 is how we get spoon fed a narrative of powerful women and girl bosses, without ever seeing strong female characters. No one is actually interesting or with much substance. With the problem of a false feminist narrative, I've had a nagging question in my mind since I first played:

What's up with the crushes?

Zer0 has a crush on Lorelai.

Fl4k has a crush on Ellie. 

Troy has...a thing, for Aurelia. 

Lorelai is an enby who presents and mostly uses feminine pronouns, and is a leader of a small Atlas soldier group fighting Maliwan. Zer0 is an enby/of indeterminate gender who presents and uses masculine pronouns, and is an Atlas spy and assassin. 

Ellie is the owner of the Catcharide and the Sanctuary III's mechanic. Fl4k is an enby bot who is obsessed with death and the hunt.

Aurelia is an older woman who is rich and full of bravado, though not to the point of unclassiness. Troy is a leader of a cult and is both aggressive and intelligent. 

So, this doesn't look bad so far. But look closer and it looks...weird.

We never see Lorelai and Zer0 interact bar an Echo log and a dialogue that may or may not play from Zer0. Troy and Aurelia are fundamental opposites; Troy is a grungy, crass, lowerclassmen, Aurelia is an elegant, classy, hyper-class-motivated woman who detests reprobates. Aside from a one-night stand which is ooc for both, they have no relationship. 

And Fl4k and Ellie…

Fl4k flirts with Ellie once. 

And its not even flirting. 

When the player meets Ellie, if they play Fl4k, their line is "You've got admirable heft, girl."

I am a fat girl. If someone tried flirting with me by telling me I was fat enough for them, that person would be maced. That isn't flirting. It has no grounds for a relationship, but because GB says so, Fl4k says this as a way of showing they like Ellie. 

Now, let's take a look at the boy and enbys.

Troy is a ruthless maniac with a taste for violence and attention. He controls the CoV, even killing a powerful Siren, Maya. He is dangerous. He is depraved. His thing is that he has the masses to throw against whoever oppose him, and years of being out of the spotlight has even turned him against his sister. He's off the rails and taking control. 

Zer0 is a hyper-skilled assassin that is 10 steps ahead of everyone they encounter, predicting enemy plans before they are even made. They are lethal with the blade and incredibly agile, striking fear into their victims with their mystery and oddness. 

Fl4k is a bloodthirsty stalker of men, obsessed with appeasing death after gaining sentience and revels in the fear of their enemies. They've tamed vicious beasts and what they can't sicc the pets on, they take down with a bullet to the head. 

Ellie is a mechanic.

Aurelia is a rich woman who's good at hunting.

Lorelai is a murderous batista. 

Now, the girls are not bad characters. I like them all.

But why do these men like them?

There is no reason or precedent. We have no reason to think these characters have chemistry bar being told there's something there. And all of them are straight - this is notable because the samesex relationship was done wonderfully. They showed chemistry and genuine romance between Wainwright and Hammerlock, why couldn't they with the trio of heteros? 

Because there was nothing to push with Wainwright and Hammerlock.

Every single female character that didn't die, we are told is powerful, a strong woman, a boss lady. 

They weren't. They were stupid, brash, arrogant, and did nothing to advance or control the plot. They told you where to go, and someone else told you what to do. Lilith has nothing to do until the end of the game. Tannis is a factor for 3 things. Ava does nothing ever. Ellie doesn't do anything. Lorelai doesn't do anything. 

Not even Tyreen or Aurelia do anything. Troy does everything for Tyreen until he dies, and Aurelia just taunts you over the Echo and shoots at Hammerlock. On Promethea, Rhys tells you what to do. On Eden-6, Wainwright tells you what to do. On Nekro, Typhon tells you what to do. 

For a game all about strong women, the women have no autonomy and its the men doing everything and moving the plot forward. The only female character that does something significant is Maya, for dying and directly encouraging Troy's abandoned character arc. 

So, we have female characters who aren't convincing as strong, powerful women. 

We know Ellie and Aurelia are powerful and strong - they're fan favorites. Everyone loves Ellie, and for the ten people who like TPS, Aurelia is great fun. Lorelai needed convincing the most. 

What's the easiest way to hammer in "See? They're strong and powerful!"?

Make a strong and powerful male/male presenting character have a crush on them. 

Zer0 is scared of Lorelai and likes it, even messing up the haiku when meeting her. Fl4k admires Ellie’s body - which I’ll get into in just a moment. Troy bottoms for Aurelia. These guys are intimidating and dangerous, so them falling for x woman means x woman is a strong, feminine force that allures them with her strength. 

Wainwright and Hammerlock are good because they were allowed to be a couple. They were just in love and you can see it. The trio never romantically interact beyond telling you "I, scary man, want this woman to step on me" in different flavors.

And what bothers me the most out of all of them is Fl4k and Ellie. Ellie was never a sexual character. She didn't care how people saw her, and didn't care about whether or not she had a man. As a fat girl, I adored her because it was nice to just see another fat girl not be just a Rebel Wilson fat girl. She talked about her body and was happy with it, but it wasn’t just “I am fat and like to f*ck.” 

In BL3, we are constantly reminded that Ellie is desirable and sexy. She tells us she wants to 'show city boys things they only see in nature documentaries'. Everyone's (Sans Zane, bless him) first comment upon meeting her is on her weight and how hot or good it is, rather than saying an actual greeting. You don't do that. You don't greet someone by saying "Wow! You're fat!"

They were trying to be positive about Ellie's body, but instead made the VHs look like feeders. Ellie was positive because her weight did not matter. Making it the only thing about her just...made it weird. 

And Ellie and Fl4k's only flirty interaction is Fl4k telling her they like how fat she is.

At least Lorelai and Zer0 clearly say they like something normal about the other. Lorelai comments that Zer0 is tall, Zer0 says Lorelai is scary in good way. Troy and Aurelia is just an allies-with-benefits, they don't have a romantic connection.

Fl4k, if that line was meant to be flirting, outs themselves as a fetishist. 

This bad character writing and interaction writing happens because we had to be reminded that these characters are powerful, and the only way was to make other characters say "Wow she's hot." The only reason this didn't happen to the main female cast is because they had a main part in the story - Lorelai, Ellie, and Aurelia are all blink-and-you'll miss it. 

The three women not being part of the overarching story means that they don't have a lot of opportunity to show off how capable they are - we have to be told directly, or be shown that they are because someone powerful thinks they're hot. And the thing is, these characters are strong characters, but we aren't allowed to see them be. Ellie was one of the best new characters in BL2, Aurelia one of the favorites of TPS. Lorelai could have been a great character, too. But they just didn’t do anything with them. 

And even stranger, they did this thing with Maya and Krieg.

When Krieg first saw Maya, his thoughts were 1, she's a Siren and could kill me, and 2, I am completely enamored with her. In that exact order. But this doesn’t come off as an attempt of spoon-feeding faux girl power because Maya is blatantly a strong female character. Every second with her, she is in control of the situation and active in the plot, both in BL3 and BL2. You don’t need to be convinced that Maya is a powerful woman, so Krieg being in love with her not only works via genuine chemistry, but because how could he not be? 

But the difference is, with Maya and Krieg, we actually had decent writers who knew how to write relationships between characters and how to, y’know, develop good female characters. 

Which we don’t anymore, evidently. 

[danaduchy]

NPCs about Seeds

Full script of Far Cry 5 (except cutscenes)

* What were those Seed brothers like? Can't imagine there's anything like a healthy sibling rivalry going on there. * John's the baby of the Seed family. His brothers turn a blind eye to his more sadistic indulgences. * Joseph and John show why it's hard to have a family business. Money and blood mix weird. Even when you're not tryin' to be a messiah.   * When you escaped the bunker... John didn't say it... but you could see it in his face. Failure. Things got worse from there... Like he was trying to make up for something. Prove to his brother he could... * Kim and I used to throw these weekend BBs. Open invite. All you had to do was bring something. If you can believe it, the whole Seed family came once. They brang watery mac and cheese. I shoulda knew they were monsters when they did that. * John's on edge 'cause his brother-Father is getting' cranky. What a fucked up sibling relationship those two got. * Maybe John will go crying to his "father". I wanna see Joseph give John a spanking. * Joseph's pissed the hell off. I hear John's sweating like a piggy. * Word's out - Joseph's had it with John. That little punk is backed into a corner now. * Good thing for us John and Jacob haven't sorted out their brotherly nonsense. I mean if we're lucky, they'll just take each other down. If not, well, I'm going to keep some grenades around with John's name on 'em, eh? It's comin' to a head man.     * Says somethin' that Joseph didn't save his brother. Family really doesn't mean shit to these people. * Wonder what Daddy Seed is feelin' right now. Oh. Shit. What if he WANTED John dead? Fuck man, I can't think about the big game. We did it here. We kicked ass. That's gotta matter. Okay that’s what I'm telling myself.  Yeah, that’s it. * I'm just sayin': If I was Joseph and I had the ability to see into future occurrences, I woulda warned my boy John that he was gon' get murdered... and made some good bets. * I'm sure it's only a matter of time before Joseph tries to spin John's death to his own advantage. * John Seed never had the Father's full confidence, what I heard. But the Joseph loves little sister Faith, and gave her everything her twisted heart desired. * Jacob always tried to look out for his little brother. Imagine what he's gonna do when he finds out you killed him.

* John was always the runt of the Seed family. I'm not surprised that you were able to get him. But I gotta warn you, Jacob's a whole lot meaner than his little brother. * Joseph adopted Faith into their family. She's going to be madder'n a wet hen that you killed her brother John. * John liked to throw his weight around, tryin' to prove how strong he was. Jacob knows he's strong. His actions are more controlled, and he's a lot scarier for it. John was always super emotional, but Jacob's buttons won't be so easy to push. * All this could have been avoided if only a mid-level cable channel gave the Seed family the reality show they deserved. * You know, if any of these Seeds ran for office, they'd win in a landslide. Mind control charisma just oozes off of them. * Come to think of it, the Seeds work just like a political office. You got Joseph, the mayor, and John, Jacob and Faith as his city councilors. It's no wonder they forced me and my people out of office - they already knew how to play the game! * Each of the Seeds has their own bunker. They call them “Gates”. * Know how I sniffed out Eden's Gate's bullshit early on?  Only the Seeds were allowed to be angry, everybody else had to be calm--even though we all had our asses in that church because we were mad at the same shit too. But now everybody gets to be angry, 'cause it's a weapon pointin' where the Seeds want it. Protect the project. Transparent motherfuckers.

John

Resistance

* John's always been obsessed with the people in Fall's End. And with Mary May in particular. * Deep down, I think John wants to die. That man has scars that run deep. * John's got a particular ritual he sticks to. You get marked with a video, then you get dunked in the water. When John wants you found, he doesn't stop. Ever. * Nowadays, if you're caught huntin’, John Seed'll have ya' killed. * John's got people getting baptized all across the valley. In rivers, creeks, hell, even in puddles. * John scrawls a fucking tattoo on your chest, then flays you the fuck alive. He nails it to a wall. * If the peggies wanted a heap of food, why didn't they drive a ways to the wholesale club and take that over? Everythin' would be canned and ready for them instead of still in the ground. You can tell John Seed never had to raise a kid.   * The cult takes people and then sorts out where they go. Whoever John doesn't keep, he sends to Jacob. Or Faith. * John really puts the dick in dictator. The fucker just loves calling and leaving answering machine messages, too. * John's always wearing a key around his neck. He calls it the key to paradise. I don't wanna know what it unlocks. * I'm pretty sure the family that used to own this farm is long gone. John Seed made an offer. They refused. That's that. * This fertilizer company was bought by John Seed a long time ago. They ran it as a legit business. * This one guy, Les Doverspike. House is northwest. He thought he could prepare for everything... Din't count on... JOHN SEED'S LAWYERING SUPER POWERS! In the blink of an eye, Eden's Gate owned Les' land, bunker, arm, leg, dingleberries, ....EVERYTHING! * I've heard some pretty brutal stories about what happens when John wants you to confess. * The peggies had to have planned all this way ahead of time - they're harvestin' at record speed. I guess they had little meetings... John probably hunkered over his map gettin' a hard-on for the sound of his own voice. Hm... now there's a thought... * The thing that always bugs me about John Seed is, who goes to a lawyer that’s tatted up more than a gangbanger? * You're attractin' a lot of attention, especially from John Seed. John's paying special attention to you. * John wants you real bad. Have you considered maybe he's in some kinda love with you? He oughta killed you like two or three times already but he's playin' cat and mouse. Just sayin', if you find yourself alone with him maybe a good long somethin-or-other could save our necks. * Man, that John, he sure does have a hard on for you. So I'm thinking, you guys should probably just fuck and uh get it over with. * I bet you John gives the best spankin's. Sorry I know that's messed up. What can I say, he brings it outta me. I'm just sayin' maybe we don't kill John is all. Seems a waste of a perfectly good set of buns. * Before you, John never lost his cool. You're driving John literally crazy. * I drank with Joey Hudson back in the day. She doesn't take shit from anyone. John's gonna eat her alive. * I know how these things go, man. Deputy, you better keep skeleton keys and wire cutters and a swiss army knife and anythin' that'll get you outta a hogtie on you at all times, because John is gonna truss you up like a dinner turkey real soon. * Always thought there was somethin' kinda twisted about John. * John the Baptist is an amoral predator, end of story. * John Seed's not gettin' what he wants, so he's pitchin' a fit. * Keep an ear out for John's fucken' plane. He loves buzzin' around in that hunk of shit. * I've known men like John Seed before. Real charismatic. They'll sell ya poison and convince ya it's a health tonic. He'd fit in real nice in Washington... * I had one conversation with John Seed and I knew! I knew... He masks his words as guidance, but deep down there is a selfishness that could only come from pure evil. * John Seed's a piece of shit. When news spread that I was expecting, that scumbag spread rumors that HE was the biological father of my baby. I don't know if he was trying to create a wedge between me and Nick or if he was just doing it to laugh at us. * I hear John Seed was a lawyer or something. Used the rules to buy up stuff in the Holland Valley. The cult must have been running damage control already, because think of what a story that'd make. Unless we're already all tapped out of giving a fuck about the shitty economy and its parasites. Huh. Yeah. He's same old, actually. Same fucking old. * I remember the first time John Seed set foot in this bar. I'm wiping down counters and Ma's countin' the till when I hear her bark, 'What the fuck do you want?' I look up and he's standin' in the doorway. Eyein' me like I'm a meal. Some people 'round here said give the Seed's a chance. I knew they were bad news from the start. * Eden's Gate took this town right from under us. They started buying up all the land, forcing business to shut down and foreclosing on homes.... My parents and me fought back, but John wanted this bar. Told 'em he'd have to pry it from our cold dead hands. So, the cult paid off the county and made it illegal to transport alcohol. We fought back with lawyers, but those leeches bled us dry, too. * Whenever there's a neighbor in need, everybody around here pitches in. A couple days after we told some people I was pregnant, we got all this secondhand baby shit from everybody. John Seed stole all of it the next day. * Heard Pastor Jerome had you saving people from being kidnapped. John Seed did that to me. The fucker made me think he was going to torture me, too. Had me wait in a room for half a day thinking he was going to do it. All that fucker did was give me one of those ink jobs. It was messed up. * John Seed is just a man. He seeks glory and riches. He immersed himself in a sea of self-aggrandizement. He pounds pulpits. He professes principals he neither believes nor practices. He stokes fear. But he is just a man. * Before you came along, John Seed kidnapped me. He has his way of getting a person to say things. It's not about my words. It's about what's in his head. When he was done, I was beaten, toed in the woods, and left to die. * A long time ago, in peaceful times, I asked John Seed what was driving him. He gave me so many answers. All of them lies. * John Seed is a cruel soul who can't be reasoned with. He enjoys making people suffer. * John and the Peggies are taking everything and everyone that ain't nailed down. Even then they just come with crowbars. * After you're marked for baptism and dunked in the fucking river, John drags you to his bunker. God save us from whatever he does in there. * There must be a reason John almost drowns people in the baptisms. It's a power play but there's more to it. * If John really wanted to, he could wipe Fall's End off the map. He's toying with the people there, like a sadistic cat. * John's got a singular mind. Dug up from a serial killer's grave, but still, singular. * There's something really wrong with John. I don't have a name for it but you can see it in that creepy smile of his. * When I first saw him on the cult's videos, John seemed pretty harmless. But when I met him in person, he made the hairs on my neck stand up. * John bought up all the businesses 'round here and promised us jobs but the only people who got work were cultists. * When John asks you for somethin', he's not really askin'. He'll get what he wants from you one way or another. * John wants us all to say yes, but I think he actually really likes it when they say no. Gives him an excuse to get mean. * Anyone who doesn't confess to John gets killed and put on display as a warning to others. It's inhuman. * John doesn't just mark people with a sin, but their houses too. You can see his calling cards all over the valley. * I got a package from John Seed the other day. // What was inside it? // A note that said I was favored and that if I admitted to my sin, I'd be cleansed. * What does John Seed do exactly...? // He messes with your head. Asks you questions. Makes you say shit you don't want to be saying. I... I really don't want to talk about it. * John was right, we all do have one sin that tends to run our life. In a weird way maybe he did give us a second chance. * My old house was a piece of shit. It would creak at night, so bad I thought for sure some boogie man was coming to get me every night growing up. // Heh, aw, that's cute. // Yeah. John gutted and burned it to a crisp last week. * Okay, I need to lighten the mood. This is unbearable. // Oh Lord. // John Seed is so uptight, he takes a ruler to bed to see how long he sleeps. // I'm not in the mood. // John Seed is so uptight, he fell down a coal shaft and found a diamond in his ass a week later. // Okay that's pretty good. * You seen that John guy? Most aggressive grin I ever seen on a human being. Like a chimpanzee before it bites ya. // God what a creep. // I hate to think what kinda life he's come from. // Who gives a shit? He's evil. // What makes a guy that evil though? // It doesn't matter. There are loads of people out there with troubled pasts but they manage not to run an apocalypse murder cult. * Not like John was the peak of sanity before, but he's going straight up coo-coo bananas with all you're doin'. * Sounds like Broseph's mad! Ouuuu, family probs! John's like that little brother who gets held down and farted on, and then curls into a ball and cries. * One thing about John -- the more you ruffle his feathers, the angrier he gets. He can't deal with embarrassment; being made to look bad. He'll start sending out search parties to grab people like us, so we gotta stay frosty. * John's lustin' for a dogfight with you, huh. I bet that kid jerked it to Top Gun or something and now it's the only way he can get a stiffie, is in a dogfight. If you have to kick the bucket I hope that's one of your last thoughts, its a good one. * John's playin' a strange game with you. Dunno what's worse, that sometimes he seems to want you dead, or sometimes he seems to want you alive. * John's no better than his brother's dog, and we all know what needs doin' to a mad dog. * John's huntin' you like an animal.  He catches you, you're probably gonna join his other trophies on his wall. * Hey dep, I just wanna say I'm sorry, I heard John's got a partner of yours It's gotta be scary, you know. Probably heard about how John cuts people up and knows all these pressure points and can make you feel pain beyond anything you ever imagined. Anyways don't think about that. I'm sure... I'm sure she's fine. She'll be alright. * Was John dead behind the eyes when you met him? It's not my imagination, there's no soul back there. * I heard there's no spare key for the bunker prison. Just one for John. Control freak. * John Seed, what a fuckin' self-absorbed dick, huh? You just KNOW he jerks off in the mirror, and marvels at his fuckin' facial expressions. * That's John Seed's Ranch. I heard he loved hiding in that castle of his. * John had this place built just for him. Even got a hangar for his fucken' planes. * Look at this place. John's got the worst case of younger sibling syndrome I ever seen. * John's such a neat freak, it's inhuman. * Ugh. John Seed's temple to himself. Fucker's got a tennis court. I ain't never seen anybody play. Just another way he's a hypocrite. * I know everyone's got a bunker out here, but John's is ridiculous. * John's taste in home decor is... awful. * John's been stealin' the planes from all over the Valley. He keeps the best ones at the airstrip next to his ranch. * Of all the Seeds, I think I understood John the least. Inferiority complex, maybe? But he was a lawyer, he could have gone out and, I don't know, been a Wall Street megalomaniac. I guess economic murder isn't as satisfying as direct murder. * John made tattoos look real bad man, I'm glad he's six feet under. You gotta respect the ink. He didn't even learn a proper letterin' or font techniques or nothing, man. No way I'd have even trusted him to touch up my tramp stamp. * With John gone, Jacob will have a harder time building up his army. But he's already got a strong force at the ready.

Peggies

* John Seed's a funny guy. But not 'ha-ha' funny. * Dang, John's bunker is so luxurious. There's parts of this bunker that only John can access. * Deputy Hudson is one of John's "special projects". Every time John leaves here, he's got a big smile on his face. * John's got the only key to the deeper parts of the bunker. We really oughtta make a copy of John's key. What if he loses it? * John knows the human heart. He's been through a lot. It's why I trust him. * I wonder if John's place will survive the Collapse? * I could get in trouble for saying this, but it smells funny in John's house. * Haven't seen John here in a long time. He's super busy. * I knew John loved planes, but I didn't know he also loved boats. I bet John's boat costs more than my old house. * I've never seen Brother John on a boat, but I know he likes to get wet. * You think John fishes? * We need to keep this place tidy. You know how John gets with his baptisms. * Bet we're guardin' John's unreleased films. * I hope Brother John takes me for a plane ride someday. * John keeps all of his favorite things stashed in the hangar. * John wants the word Yes plastered all over this place. Gotta attract new brothers and sisters. * Taking this scrap metal is good forward thinking. John's left nothing to chance. He's a smart man. * Bet John'll be a king after the collapse. * If you're marked, John believes you can be saved. I didn't want to admit my sin at first, but John showed me how to accept it gracefully. * Feels weird turning those people into Angels. I mean, they worked in the store here with us. They cooperated. // Sure, they cooperated. But they were still sinners. There's no going back at a certain point, you know? John said that this was the only way to save them. * I know it's John's will, but...I don't like killing dogs. * John's made catchin' that deputy our top priority. Wonder why John wants the deputy alive. * That deputy's fixin' to get taken into John's special room. * John's relentless, that deputy don't stand a chance. * John's gettin' awful mad. I pity anyone who has to deal with him face to face. * I don't know what's goin' on in John's head, but it's embarrassing. * I thought John had control of things, but lately it feels like he's got no idea what he's doin'. * John's got that look in his eye, I almost feel bad for the people of Fall's End. * John will make everyone atone, even if it kills him. * John was right, they never saw us comin'. * John's so smart. Burnin' what we can't take, so people know they need us, spirit and body. * Last I heard from John, he was real angry. Never knew he had that amount of righteous wrath in him. * Pray you never see John lose his cool. // He never does. // He has though. Some sinner a while back had words with 'im. I couldn't hear exactly, but I heard 'em say the Father's name - I never seen John go so red so fast. // What'd he do? // Well he gets in his plane and wipes the sinner's property off the goddamned map. He rains fire on'em. They're scurryin' everywhere, screamin'. Like a magnifying glass on an anthill. * The Seeds lost a good brother in John. * Maybe John wasn't part of the plan? Maybe this is still what the voice told Joseph? * John's faith wavered, but mine's never been stronger. * I'll miss John's pep talks. * John did so much for the project. He can never be replaced. * John proved his devotion in blood. How can we do any less? * John was always larger than life, it felt like he was immortal.

Joseph

Resistance

* Joseph doesn't like it when his family goes off-book. * I know this is an unpopular opinion, but what if Joseph's right about the end of the world? * That's the first place Joseph ever built. Back when they pretended to be good. Joseph used to preach here. We could have saved us some trouble if we had just set fire to it years ago. * Joseph Seed and his whole family are like the politicians who ran this country into the ground. They sell ya hope and change and all these people buy into it thinking it's gonna be different this time. It ain't. Might as well be buyin' magic beans. * These people in Eden's Gate have been led astray. Joseph Seed claims he loves everyone. Wants them to know the truth.  The truth is he preaches vengeance and sows lies. But the words of an evil man ring louder in the minds of the weak... * You know what really gets me? Cult leaders are usually always in it for the money. Just like a pyramid scheme. Joseph ain't like that. I keep tryin' to break this guy down into what he wants from people. If it ain't money, and it ain't sex, what the hell is it? * Joseph's a charismatic son of a bitch. I mean, you've heard him. The pitch. The tempo. The way the words roll off his gentle lips. His mannerisms. I mean he's been speech trained, probably more than any politician I've ever seen. That's how you know he's a government guy. * I know the people of this valley. They're good, hard workin' people. But in bad times, people get scared, start lookin' for someone to blame. Joseph Seed fed on that fear. Told folk the end of the world was coming. Lot of 'em believed him. Truth be told... way things are now? I sometimes wonder if he's right. Folks felt abandoned, grew weary, they needed our help. And we didn't listen, but Joseph Seed did. Joseph Seed wooed people. He told them EXACTLY what they wanted to hear. With those falsehoods, lies, his poison. It's driven a lot of good folks away from the righteous path. * I knew Joseph Seed was bad business when he wormed his way in here a few years back. I imagine the fucking mainstream media would paint us as two sides of the same coin, because they're either lazy or corrupt or both... But to me, it's simple: I'm willing to sacrifice everything for my family, while Joseph Seed wants to burn down the world for his. * Y'know, I had a dream last night that involved me, a bed, whips and chains, and Joseph Seed. Suffice to say there were a lot of conflicting emotions and sensations... * Did you have a vision? Faith dosed me with bliss, and I saw the Father come to me, personally, and tell me terrible things. * I have a lot of pity for Faith. Joseph is the true monster, manipulating that young woman into a weapon. * Who the heck is Faith, y'know? Joseph treats her both like his daughter and his sister. How much does she know? How influential is she? It's all twisted together. * I wonder how many other secret bunkers there are in the county? Joseph procured a whole missile silo and no one saw! * Faith came to Hope County to detox. Like tourism of hillbilly country for rehab. But Joseph took a shine to her and she was reborn. Hell, her real name ain't even Faith, but something rich, like Riley or Rachel. * Joseph believes in Faith. He's entrusted her with all manner of heinous activity out here. We need to take her out. * I can't see what kind of method to the madness Eden's Gate has goin' on. Three heralds of the Collapse? What are they even doin'? // They got a system. Faith sows, John reaps, Jacob... // Steps on your neck? // Deals in belief, I guess. // Nah, that's Joseph's job. He's the charismatic populist motherfucker. Jacob just wants to cull people. * Joseph's just a nobody from nowhere. How'd he get this many people behind him? * There was a time no western religious leader would be caught dead with a goddamned man-bun. Fuck I miss those days. Listen, I get that he's runnin' this big old cult and all but if you're gonna run a big old cult you gotta look the part! Long robe that's a weird color, like puce or something, stringy moustache, head shaved bald like a baby. Not like some kind of lovechild between a hipster and a country singer. * Joseph Seed's family is gone. He's gonna be vulnerable and running on emotion. He won't be thinkin' straight. If we're putting this to a vote, I'd say we close this chapter for good, as soon as possible.

Peggies

* The father's takin' a personal interest in those deputies now... Maybe his visions told him somethin'.   * Joseph said that deputy is special. I wonder what he meant by that. * Despite everything they've done to us, I know Joseph would still forgive them. * We have to love the sinners. It's what Joseph would want. * It's been too long since I've seen our Father's face. * Joseph is a gifted songwriter. You haven't lived until you've heard Joseph sing this live. * I heard that the Father got the idea for the Judges in a vision. * Jacob might teach us to shoot, but Joseph guides our aim. * President Seed has a nice ring to it. Wonder if Joseph has political aspirations? * I see why Joseph liked this county. Plenty of silos for what we need to store. * Everyone knows Joseph will not tolerate idle hands.   * The Father keeps all the best stuff for his Chosen. Leaves us the scraps. * After the collapse, we won't hear the Father on the radio anymore. * Joseph's disappointed in us, I can tell. We gotta do better. * I hope the Father doesn't take this out on us. * I can't imagine how Joseph feels now, with his brother gone.   * With Jacob gone the Father has to have a backup plan for us. He has to. * Our Father was supposed to save us. Joseph wouldn't ever abandon us, would he? * Joseph will know what to do. I just have to find out where he's hidin'.

Jacob

Resistance

* We're in Jacob's territory now. Know how I know? Wildlife is scarce. I'm not one for hunting but this area in particular used to be home to quite a few species. They've either been driven away or taken in for experiments. It's sad. * Jacob Seed's in charge out here. He's ex-military, he's a combat veteran, and he's a psycho. * Faith was Joseph's favorite, but Jacob is his toughest soldier, bar none. * Jacob's got this Chair. He straps people in and breaks them down until their souls are gone. Then he controls their mind. Don't end up in that chair. * I know Jacob's the bad guy and all, but every bad guy thinks they're this misunderstood hero, right? Has anyone ever tried to just, you know, take him for coffee and talk to him? * Strippin' people of their mind and freewill to build an army for The Father, that ain't right. I still can't believe Jacob and Joseph are brothers. * The mind is the most dangerous weapon and Jacob knows that all too well. No one was really prepared for this. * I've seen him up close once and I'll tell ya' Jacob Seed is one scary motherfucker. * Jacob had one thing right. Things are only goin' to get worse and you gotta be ready for it. * I had a dream once that Jacob took me on a hunt. We shot some deer and he asked me to skin them. As I was cutting them open they changed... it wasn't deer. I... I don't think it was a dream. * Whatever you do, don't listen to the music. That's how Jacob gets you. * One of the first places Jacob took over is the old Veteran's Hospital. No one thought much of it at the time. * Careful. Jacob likes to play mind games with ya. * This was an animal sanctuary until Jacob took it over. Looks like he's got some freaky deaky shit goin' on. Jake-n-Bake Seed really had his fingers up in everything up here. * Jacob's completely insane. He's not even trying to hide what he's doing anymore. * Heard that Jacob has been doin' some weird stuff with animals over here... and not just wolves this time. * Jacob's been putting people in cages. Keepin' them there with no food or water for weeks!  Almost better if they just killed you. * Eli worked on Jacob's special bunkers, did you know that? Turns out they didn't get along. Who would've thought? * No one is immune to Jacob's fucked up conversion. Once they hit you with that you ain't ever the same. * Jacob, he's knows everything that I'm thinking. He's got the key to my mind and he twists... and twists... and twists. * Jacob... his experiments... he takes us... owns us, speaks to us. He hears us. Jacob... he's in control. He controls everything. * Jacob knows how to get into your head. Twists things around so you don't know what's right anymore. * If Jacob can't find a use for you in his army, you become target practice for troops. * Be careful out there. Friends might not be friends anymore after Jacob's done with them. * I bet the Peggies got an armory here, too. I can't believe how Jacob got them so organized. * Jacob's using everything he learned in the military and twisting it to suit the needs of Eden's Gate. Son of a bitch is a poor excuse for a soldier if you ask me. As long as he's alive my Pops will be rolling in his grave, all bitter and mad. * Have to say, you've ticked Jacob off something fierce. * You wanna bet that Jacob had that three-wolf moon poster as a kid? I bet he was a cub scout, too. Now he's getting his badge for people-skinning and brainwashing. * I'm seeing a lot more choppers in the air. Looks like Jacob's using them to move troops and supplies. * You know, I was dumb enough to work for Jacob a few years back. Who you think built him all those Peggie bunkers? You think I saw any of this comin'? Hell no... * Jacob's new recruits gotta kill someone they care about, just to prove their loyalty. That's messed up on so many levels. * Jacob will be pied that you and the Cougars freed the Henbane River. He'll need a new source of soldiers. * Jacob sees himself as beyond the other so-called Heralds. He views his work as the most important, and that the others' purpose was to support him. * Jacob will break every bone in your body to convert you. He lives for pain. * Jacob would happily sacrifice everyone and everything in Hope County to feed Joseph's Collapse. He doesn't care about Faith. * Between John, Faith, and Jacob, I'd say our mind control freak is the worst. He makes people kill their own family. His own mind's twisted. He's a damn maniac. * I hear Jacob's looking everywhere for you. * You gotta save us from all this darkness. All this death. Jacob's losing it and he's out hunting down more people. He's gonna do anything for Joseph's plan to work. * Cult's got the wrong idea 'bout sacrifices. My neighbor killed his old man 'cause Jacob said so. For fuck's sake, you don't do that. * Jacob's gone nuts 'cause he lost a lot of his precious, mindless soldiers. I'd say it sucks even more to see our own teammates turned against us. * Jacob's pissed. That's new. He's always been the crazy type, but I'm afraid of what he'll come up with next. Stay sharp. * Using music to control people is so in bad taste, but Jacob's song pick, that's gotta say something about him. * How much do we know about this Jacob fella? He seems strong. Got a good setup going on... We ought to take some photographs of him or somethin'. Preferably shirtless... Y'know, for intelligence purposes. Know your enemy. * If Jacob he had an experienced woman in his life, this shit would not be happenin'. I'll take one for the team if it comes to that. Just don't tell Xander I said that. He'll get jealous. * I knew Jacob was trouble as soon as he showed up. I mean, did you see his face? It's all burned and twisted like his heart. * Jacob's got training grounds all over the place. I've seen them out there, shooting anything that moves. * I can almost understand why people follow Jacob. He's knows what he's doin', that's for sure. Mind you he's also a fucken' psychopath kind of a deal breaker for me. * Honestly, Jacob scares the shit outta me, even more than the Father. I've seen Jacob up close, I've looked him in the eyes they're empty, not a single shred of humanity anywhere. * Jacob's one sick fuck. Nailing up bodies? Burning people alive? That's just messed up. * You know what? I think Jacob's scared of Eli. That's why he's tried so hard to get him. * Jacob must be getting desperate and crazy. More troops out here than ever. * Jacob's plan worked. I tried to warn them. I told them not to go back. Jacob's going to win. He always wins. * Jacob was the big, mean, brute of the Seed clan. * Jacob was an example of how a vet can go bad without any help. Still glad he's dead of course.

Peggies

* Hope Jacob doesn't have another surprise inspection. Last one didn't go so hot. * Jacob asks for sacrifices from us all.  I gave up my son just so I could understand the Father's pain. * Jacob can turn these animals into weapons for the Father, I've seen him do it. * Jacob calls those wolves of his Judges, 'cause that's what they do. If you're not worthy, they tear you to shreds. * Jacob takes us, molds us and lifts us up to realize our potential. Just like this Judge. Once, it was just a simple wolf. Then it heard the voice of the Father. Now look at it. Stronger, faster... a killer. That's what Jacob does, he makes us better than we were, because only the very best of us will pass through Eden's Gate and on to salvation. * Jacob has asked us to find more recruits for the Project. We have to make them see the light... by force if necessary. * Jacob taught me how to bring a boar down will one killshot. Now I just apply the same logic to sinners. Easy. * Trust nobody, that's what Jacob told us. * Last time I was here Jacob himself complimented me on my shootin'. * Jacob will whip the strong ones into shape. The rest of 'em won't survive training. Jacob sure puts you through your paces here. It's how he makes us strong. * Jacob only wants the strongest of any creature. * Some of the converts have a hard time losing their old notions, but Jacob has a way of getting them to see the light. * If you've ever been in Jacob's presence you know just how powerful he really is. * There is no way anyone would dare stand up to Jacob. They'd be dead in a second. * Jacob's got this county locked down. There's no way they're gonna take him out. * Jacob knows what he's doin'. If he says he's got this bastard covered, I believe him. You know Jacob. He's not gonna give up. * I hear Jacob is furious. We have to try harder. We can't fail the Father. * Jacob's not dead. There's no way. He's too strong to die. * The sacrifice of Jacob must be part of the Father's great plan; we must trust in him. * The guy who killed Jacob. He fucken' cheated. You know Jacob. There's no way he would've lost in a straight up fight. Can't do anything for Jacob, but we can make sure Pratt pays for letting that bastard get away. * Do you think this the father knew about all this? // Of course. It's all part of his plan. // Even losing Jacob? // Do you doubt the Father's visions? // No! Of course not.... it's just... the guys... they have questions.... // Questions? Now's not the time for questions! It's time for action! Do you want to die a sinner? // No! Or course not! // Then get back to your post. The Father needs us now, more than ever! * So what the hell are we going to do now? // What do you mean? // What do I mean? Jacob's dead! That's a pretty big deal, if you ask me. // We still have the Father. It's his plan after all. // Sure, but he had Jacob and the others to help. He can't do it all himself. // That's why we're here. We have to step up, do whatever is asked of us. We can't give up, not now. // Yeah, you're right. Especially with what's coming. // Exactly. Get back to your post, this isn't over yet.

Pratt

* Jacob's caught himself a Deputy. I think it's Pratt. Poor bastard, he's not gonna last a day in there. * Deputy Pratt always came off as a bit of a douchebag, but that doesn't mean he deserves what Jacob's doin' to him. * I'd sure hate to be that Deputy Pratt right now. Jacob's gonna rip him to pieces. He tried to arrest his brother for God sake. * Pratt's days are numbered. One of these days Jacob's gonna have him nailed up on some billboard or something just like the others. * I keep thinking about Pratt, and what Jacob's doin' to him. That poor man's brain's gonna be totally fucked. * Can only imagine what it's like to be left in a cage with nothing to eat for days. God, do you think that's what they're doing to that Deputy of yours? Poor bastard. * I don't think that Deputy's gonna live much longer. I hear Jacob's furious and you can be sure who he's gonna take it out on. * Next time you meet your friend Pratt, be careful. Jacob does things... to your mind... he might not be the same person you remember. Don't say I didn't warn you. * Can you fuckin' believe that guy? // Who? // The Deputy. Pratt. He was wanderin' around behind the cages. // What the fuck was he doin' there? // Who the hell knows. Jacob's probably got him off doing some shit. // Yeah, he's lucky to be able to put two words together after what Jacob did to him! // Seriously. Sometimes I think it's a mistake to put too much trust in these converts. You should come willing to the light, or be struck down. * I.. I was told to feed the Judges but I didn't know where their food was. // Jesus, Pratt. Does nothing stick in that brain of yours? Over there, where it's always kept. // Right! Th..thanks Phil! It won't happen again! // It better not. * I just want go out and hunt down the bastard that killed Jacob and beat them to death.//Don't worry. They'll be here soon enough. We've got their buddy Pratt down here. Pretty sure we're next on the list.//Aren't you worried? They were strong enough to take on Jacob...// Fuck 'em. With the number of guards we got here? They'd be crazy to try to take us on. * Good thing Pratt's out man. He was lookin' like a hipster in a bullfight man. * There's not much of the old Deputy Pratt left, Jacob made sure of that. Almost would've been better that he'd died in there.       * Yeah, the Deputy might be free, but I won't say he's okay. No one is okay after they've been through the trials. No one. * Jacob sure did a number on Pratt. Not sure there's much of him left in there. * It's gonna take a while for Deputy Pratt to recover from this... if he ever does.

[necro-hamster]

no idc i feel like shit and i wanna talk abt my weird little fc5 oc. my blog i do what i want. rambles under the cut bc i dont wanna clog up ppl’s dash

anyways. first of all this is abt my weird little fc5 oc danny. he is/was part of the cult, long story short, joined up when he was like 14 because his parents joined and dragged him along.

im not talking abt THAT aspect of their story tho. i wanna talk abt gender LMAO. it’s MY oc and I get to choose how to project. anyways ! i think, first and foremost, for a LONG time (like, from a VERY early age, likely around,, 11-12??) danny thought he was mtf. they knew they didn’t feel exactly MALE, but even then, FEMALE didn’t sit quite right either. but, that’s all danny really knew about ! he was vaguely aware of what being trans was, and it was the only label he could think of that got close to how he felt. they did a lot of private experimenting with using a different name, she/her pronouns, and attempting to look as feminine as possible just to see how it’d make him feel.

truth is, while it did help out a bit, he only came to the conclusion that the label of a woman didn’t exactly sit right either. which was admittedly kind of a relief? danny grew up in a very white, republican area in georgia, and his parents fit right in with the rest of the community, to say the least ! they were assholes !! as i’m sure you can kind of guess by them joining a crazy murder cult and forcing their kid to join with them despite not wanting to. lol.

either way, danny was pretty relieved to come to the conclusion that he didn’t want to necessarily TRANSITION in any way, they still felt ... off??? if you’re trans you know what i mean. that just constant feeling of WRONG. especially once puberty hit !!! facial hair in particular gives him pretty horrible dysphoria, and they’ve always been glad that they can’t seem to really grow it out much past patchy stubble, given the ‘no shaving’ rule the cult seems to have.

danny identified as a cis male for years. he figured out that he was bi around 16, and figured that maybe THAT was what had been causing him so much discomfort. it wasn’t. obviously. he went through this same cycle for YEARS, even after he left eden’s gate, of “i’m a cis male” -> “i don’t feel male” -> “maybe i’m a woman” -> “i don’t feel like a woman” -> “i’m a cis male”, rinse and repeat.

(keep in mind i personally go w/ an ending where the collapse doesn’t happen because i do what i want and the ending is open ended anyways lmao. same basic thing happens in the situation where the collapse DOES happen tho, just takes a lil while longer to get there.)

finally, at around 22, danny learned about the term nonbinary, and it really was just like an instant click. they were talking to a friend who told him they were nonbinary, and he just felt like “oh, me too”, once they explained what it was. obviously, being nb is a whole complex experience, and there was still a LOT of treading water he had to do before fully figuring himself out.

but i literally refuse to give a nb character a shitty ending so as of now !! danny’s come to a very comfortable conclusion that they’re nonbinary, and use he/they pronouns. they’re okay with presenting primarily masculine and are quite frankly very proud of themself for finally figuring out their gender identity tbh. their shitty parents and relatives/”friends” are out of their life (completely cut out) so they don’t ever have to deal with any of THAT bullshit, luckily. :^)

[consumedkings-archive]

WITCHING HOUR, a sequel.

chapter four: advent

word count: 8.7k

rating: m for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop, tags will be updated accordingly.

warnings: naughty language, brief mentions of what could-be prenatal depression. elliot considers the logistics of murder. nothing new.

notes: i am so sorry that this chapter took so long to come around, but i hope it's worth the wait! we're finally getting somewhere with these two dummies, as well as a few little things starting to develop along the way. i'm really pleased with how this chapter finally came out, because it was giving me some trouble to start with, but thankfully i have some wonderful people around to help keep me motivated and not letting me get discouraged!

special thank you to my beta reader, @starcrier, for helping me with the barebones skeleton of this chapter and not letting me get too in my head about it. and a thank you to my loves, @shallow-gravy and @baeogorath, for lending me their eyes as well as i tried to muddle through the parts of this that felt so, so difficult. i adore you all so much!!

Isolde fucking hated Montana.

Maybe “hated” was a bit strong of a term, but all she could feel as she cinched her coat tighter around her and waded through crowds of milling, purposeless passersby in the airport was that she could not wait to leave—and she had only touched down minutes ago.

That she was even here at all was a miracle in and of itself: she didn’t owe John Seed anything. Not a favor, not the time of day, not the firing of her neurons to process her furious disdain for him. If anything, John owed her for up and fucking off for no good reason. If anything, he should be the one doing her a favor. Strapping him to a bed of nails on the hood of a car and watching him suffer while she drove over speed bumps in a mall parking lot during an earthquake would have been a good start.

I need your help, Sol, he’d said, like he didn’t have two fucking hands and eyes and a mediocre brain of his own to get things done.

“Fucker,” Isolde gritted out between her teeth. “Fucking—stupid—fuckface. Fuck I hate him. I hate him.”

But that wasn’t really true, was it? She didn’t hate John, not in the same capacity that she actually hated people, like the ex-husband that so rarely registered in her brain nowadays. For all of his posturing and Napoleon syndrome, John had been her only friend, the only person that she trusted, for a very long time.

Fuck me, she thought, I’m in a bad spot if that’s the case.

It was.

Isolde stepped out of the airport and into the frigid air of the outside pick-up area. Her eyes scanned the area, and while she thought for certain she saw a familiar redhead right away, he was leaned up against a beat-up, mud-splattered truck and surely Jacob Seed did not think he was going to put her in a metal death trap that looked like it wasn’t going to make it five minutes on the highway.

He waved to catch her attention. Isolde stayed firmly put, and she saw—with a little lick of amusement whispering inside of her—Jacob’s teeth flash in a grin.

“Sol,” he called, beginning to saunter over, “I know you can see me.”

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asked tartly. “I was supposed to be getting picked up by an actual vehicle, not...” She leaned around Jacob’s broad-shouldered figure to peer pointedly at the beater truck, which had not miraculously become better in the last thirty seconds. “...three pieces of metal loosely held together by a shit welding job.”

Jacob’s wolfish smile did not dim. “Good to see you, too.”

“Hello, my darling.” She beckoned him with one hand, giving him a one-armed hug once he was within range. “I suppose you are the transportation John promised, then.”

“None other,” Jacob replied.

“Surely, no expense was spared.”

“Surely.”

Jacob relinquished her of the weight of her suitcase, lifting it with ease and beckoning with a tilt of his head for her to follow. She did, even though her reservations about getting into a fucked up Toyota had not abated; as the eldest Seed brother loaded the suitcase into the back “seat” (being used loosely in this context), Isolde hoisted herself up into the passenger seat.

“Hm,” was what came out of her once she was buckled in, a singular expression of her displeasure, and the redhead settled into the driver’s seat next to her.

He glanced over, his smile having relaxed into something more ambivalent. He said, “I love that you haven’t changed a bit,” and began to pull out of the pick-up lane.

“It is one of my most charming qualities, I think.”

“How did Johnny convince you to come all this way?” he asked, and Isolde stifled a long-suffering sigh that tried to worm its way out of her.

“He told me what helpless idiots you are without him,” she replied. Shrugging out of her jacket, she pushed it into the back seat and turned the heat in the truck down. “Did a whole bit. You would have found it entertaining, I think. It was all Sol, you’re so tall and threatening, please help me. I hate that he knows exactly how I like to be complimented.”

“Well, he’d have to really pull out the stops to get you to come back and help Joseph,” Jacob acquiesced, with the same kind of visceral, gut-punch perception he had always operated and which Soli had expected and still hoped he wouldn’t apply.

Isolde’s mouth pressed into a thin line. Fuck you, she thought, but there was no venom, because he wasn’t wrong. She wouldn’t have come back if John hadn’t really tried, if he hadn’t made it obvious that he was desperate. It did bother her, a little, to see John like that—haphazard and urgent, scrabbling for a foothold wherever he could get one. She just hoped he wasn’t overshooting his shot with the mother of his unborn child.

“Yeah,” Sol said after a moment, “I guess he did.”

Jacob gave her a look. It was a look that said, come on now, Sol, because if there was one unfortunate thing about having dated Joseph Seed and worked with the baby brother for years on end, it was that Jacob—arguably the most perceptive and intelligent of the whole brood—had come to understand her quite well. So annoying.

“I’m glad you’re here,” is what he said after a minute. “Be nice to have a fresh face around, all things considered.”

“You mean all the killing.” Her words came out clipped, but if Jacob felt any particular way about it, it didn’t show on his face.

“Well,” he acquiesced, and that was all that came out of his mouth for at least two heartbeats.

Isolde narrowed her eyes, watching the redhead move methodically as he hit cruise control and settled back against his seat a bit.

She prompted, tightly, “Well?”

“Don’t give me that, Sol,” he cautioned her. “You can use that tone on Johnny and Joseph, but you can’t use it on me. We neither fuck nor run a business together.”

“I remember now why you’re unbearable. How silly of me, to have forgotten.”

“I was going to say,” Jacob continued, as though she had not spoken at all, “that the killing really shouldn’t be a point of contention for you.”

And then, with the kind of spiteful accuracy that she truly detested: “Of all people.”

Shut up. The words sat there, on the tip of her tongue, threatening. Only Jacob would get away speaking to her like this. She supposed that made them hearty exceptions for each other, didn’t it? All the same, the things that she had done—or rather, the things that Joseph had done, for her —were in the past, and long-since buried. Literally and figuratively.

“Here I was, thinking you were my favorite,” she replied primly, and this elicited a laugh out of Jacob, short and barked out but nonetheless genuine. “Tell me you didn’t volunteer to pick me up just so you could start a fight with me. Is it that boring, out there in God’s Country?”

“I never said I volunteered.”

“But you did,” she countered, “didn’t you?”

Jacob glanced at her, then focused his gaze back on the road. “God’s Country is pretty boring, right about now. But there’s been a bit of excitement.”

“Ah, yes,” she replied, foregoing her irritation with his little jab. “Why don’t we compare what John told me with the truth, then?”

“Sounds like a fun game to pass the time.”

Isolde had the feeling they’d at least have a lot to fill the time, at any rate.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Eden’s Gate was not what she had anticipated.

The cult aspect—that was one thing. She could deal with a cult. She could deal with two cults, even, which if what Jacob told her was accurate—and she assumed that it was, because he had no motive to lie to her—sounded like it was actively happening, or had just finished happening.

The compound’s yard looked like a graveyard. As the truck, guided by Jacob’s hands on the steering wheel, rolled in, Isolde took a moment to sweep her eyes over everything as meticulously as possible. Small, meek buildings, the white wiring of a long trellis stretching over the yard, and—blood. Splattered across some of the buildings. Sins in their most classical names, graffitied here and there.

It was dirty. Nothing looked well-insulated. The media would absolutely have had a fucking field day with this. What few people she saw out and about, milling around and regarding the truck’s arrival with quiet, venomous curiosity, might as well have been plucked straight out of the homeless shelter.

When Joseph had told her what his plans were, when he had started dropping tiny scraps of information—because he wanted her to ask for more, wanted to pique her interest—he had never told her it would be...Well.

This.

“This is a fucking joke,” Isolde said, without thinking, turning to look at Jacob. The redhead regarded her with an even-keel gaze, putting the truck in park and tilting his chin, almost defiantly.

“What is?” he asked, and it was sort of there—a tiny, tiny little threat. A demand. What’s funny, Isolde? What do you think is a joke? Surely, the eldest Seed had regarded many defectors and insurgents with the same kind of look. Surely, she knew, he was waiting for her to say something that would make her regret having voiced her opinion.

Purposefully, Isolde replied, “This place.” When Jacob exhaled out of his nose, sharp and impatient, she watched the muscle of his jaw flex, his teeth clenching; before he could open his mouth, she plunged on, “Jacob, you’re not a fucking idiot.”

“Thank you,” Jacob snipped, not sounding very grateful at all.

“The media would lose their fucking shit over this place. It would be a madhouse .”

The redhead sucked his teeth. “You really aren’t getting it, aren’t you?” he asked after a moment of silence had lapsed between them. “There won’t be any fuckin’ media, Isolde. Not if Joseph’s right. And he’s been right about everything else. There won’t be fuck all left to care about beyond your own life.”

“Yeah, except I have to care about them like they’re going to be here!” Isolde snapped. “That’s the whole reason I’m here, you know. In case. John sent me to do damage control because he knows you and Joseph are so tunnel-vision you don’t have any kind of back-up plan.”

His eyes narrowed. “That’s funny. A back-up plan, for the collapse of the world as we know it.”

“Finally,” she bit out, “you get my sense of humor.” She grabbed the handle of the door, but before she opened it, she said, “ If Joseph’s right.”

Jacob stilled beside her, head cocked as though he were really listening to her, taking in her words. “What?”

“You said,” Isolde replied tartly, “ if Joseph’s right.”

She turned her head to look at him, trying to discern anything in his expression that might have let her glean some insight on where it was that Jacob really stood. Of all of the Seed children, he had always struck her as the least fanatical—devoted, surely. Structured and disciplined and rigorous and devoted, yes. But not in the way that John had been about Joseph, and maybe was still.

Of course, she saw nothing that indicated Jacob was going to bite the bait.

“Just remember,” Isolde told him, pushing the passenger door open and feeling the bite of winter dig straight into her bones, “ you said that, not me.”

She slid out of the passenger seat, grabbing her suitcase from the back seat and hauling it out. Jacob sighed from the front seat, passing a hand over his face before he climbed out of the driver’s seat and came around the front, stilling her hands over the handle of her suitcase.

“Joseph doesn’t know you’re here,” he told her, glossing over her little barb as though it had never happened. He disengaged her suitcase from the back of the truck with ease, lifting it over her head and keeping it out of the snow. “Just as a heads up.”

“He doesn’t—?” She felt the incredulous spike in her voice. “Bloody fucking hell, did you not tell him?”

“Why would I?” the redhead replied idly, beginning to walk toward the chapel without waiting for her. The implication lay there— why would I, when it’s so much more interesting to have not? —reminding Isolde that in many ways, Jacob Seed was still a Big Brother that did not so often enjoy bending to the will and request of his younger sibling.

She picked her way across the yard, stomping the snow off of her shoes before she stepped into the chapel that Jacob had disappeared into. It was empty, and dark; a heater ran, fruitless and futile, in the far corner. That’s going to change, she thought tiredly. I won’t be losing my fingers for this shithole.

“Look who I found at the airport,” Jacob announced to the figure standing at the front of the church. Isolde felt her insides twist with a strange kind of dreadful anticipation, because the second the figure turned around, she recognized him immediately. Even dimly backlit by the cold winter light filtering through the symbol carved out of the front of the chapel, even after so much time apart. Of course, she thought, she would have recognized him anywhere.

Joseph said, “Isolde,” like he wasn’t at all surprised to find her there.

“Hello, Joseph,” she greeted, managing to keep the anxiety out of her voice. “I’ve only just learned John did not choose to inform you of my impending arrival.” And apparently, neither did God.

“No,” the man agreed. He was bundled up in a dark-colored sweater, high-necked, the hair pulled back from his face. “But I haven’t spoken to John recently. And what did he send you for?”

Isolde blinked at him, brows lifting on her face. “Pardon?”

“What purpose?” he reiterated. “To what end?”

It was so completely and utterly dismissive that Isolde thought she had hallucinated Joseph’s blatant disrespect. The Joseph she had known had, at least, more grace and tact when it came to being a thoughtless bastard.

“To what—?” Fuck you fuck you fuck you, that vicious, still-wounded thing inside of her whispered, furious. Fuck you, you stupid smug fucker, fuck you so fucking hard. To what end? He couldn’t have possibly descended into sheer stupidity as well as delusional grandeur, could he have?

Jacob said, almost in an effort to mediate, “Johnny thought we could use the support.”

“To what end?” Soli demanded, incredulous. “You’ve got half of Montana’s homeless population dragging their emaciated corpses through the snow outside, Joseph. What ‘purpose’ do you think I’m here for?”

Joseph��s eyes narrowed. His expression remained serene otherwise, no flex of irritated muscle that she could see. He’d always been nearly impossible for her to read—plenty of times she’d said things just to push his buttons, just to see him flinch, just to see what he’d do. It had both pleased and infuriated him, then.

Now, she hoped only for the latter.

“You’re here for PR, then,” is what he said, at last. “A fall-back. Because John has doubts.”

“Taking one quick look at your congregation, I can see why.”

“Faith and devotion are not always the easiest routes,” Joseph replied, lifting his chin in a tiny spark of defiance. “And they are. Devoted.”

“They are,” Isolde said tightly, “ filthy, Joseph.”

There was a tiny, almost imperceptible click, and she realized with a sense of satisfaction that it was Joseph’s molars, setting and grinding together. The moment stretched between the two of them like that, drawn tight and tense by her blatant disdain and Joseph’s refusal to acknowledge that they probably needed her, and finally Jacob cleared his throat.

“So glad,” he said lightly, rubbing his hands together. “So glad to have you back around, Sol. Why don’t I show you where you’ll be staying?”

Isolde sucked her teeth. “Fine,” she replied tartly. “And it ought to have a better fucking heater than this.”

“Whatever you want, princess.”

As Jacob swung her suitcase over his shoulder, heading for the door that led out through the back of the chapel, Isolde cinched her coat tight around her waist and followed.

“Soli,” Joseph said, the utterance of a nickname so few had ever been allowed to use for her grinding her movements to a halt. She took in a short, sharp breath through her nose, turning to look at the man over her shoulder.

He was regarding her curiously, his eyes taking a relaxed, leisurely sweep over her despite the unpleasant interaction they had just endured.

“What, Joseph?” she asked, her words coming out short and biting.

“You haven’t changed a bit.” The corner of his mouth ticked upward. “I’m glad you’re here.”

It wasn’t what she had expected or anticipated. Even in a perfect world where they were absolutely cordial with each other, she would haven’t expected this. The whole thing had to be some kind of game: already, the mental chess game had begun, and she had been caught lagging unpleasantly behind on the first move.

So she said, “Good,” and turned back around, marching devoutly after Jacob.

“You should be.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

He had been this close.

John hadn’t intended on being as loud as he was, when he got out of his car. But the sight of Elliot wandering out of her front door, barefoot and in nothing but shorts and t-shirt, had inspired quite a bit of concern; he’d still waited, watching her. Watching her walk out to the fence that he knew led out to the pastures and eventually the woods, and then stood there.

Much like the other night, she only stood. He couldn’t see her do anything except be there—standing, watching the woods, her face relaxed and serene.

It filled him with the same kind of dread it had when he’d seen her do it through the windows, standing at the top of the stairs with her face lax and her eyes open. Seeing it again, he was now more certain than ever it was a recent development, and that she had not been sleep-walking back in Hope County; at the very least, not when he had been around her.

And red. Her hair was so red—the same kind of coppery-ginger that he’d seen the man in their family photos sporting, the man who had been entirely absent from any other photos past what seemed to be the age of eight. Her hair was so red, and so long, sprawling down to her shoulder blades and sweeping across the thin white cotton of her sleep shirt. 

When ten minutes passed and he saw no change, he thought, that just won’t fucking do, and opened the car door, shutting it behind him with a new sense of urgency. He hadn’t wanted to get her like this when something was so clearly unsettling her, but if that’s what it had to be, then—

But the front door of her house opened, and he heard the woman that he thought had to be Elliot’s mother calling for her, and he’d stopped himself. It would have been worse if he’d been halfway down the drive to her, but this far away he could duck behind the Honda he’d been calling his home and act like he hadn’t gotten out at all.

Somewhere down the street—down in the far end of the widely-spaced row of old money houses—the sound of a car starting and pulling away echoed.

It could have been nothing, he thought. It could have been, but what if it wasn’t?

What if it wasn’t nothing?

John listened to the sound of Elliot muddle through a response to her mother, words slurring tiredly as she stepped through the snow. It wasn’t until he heard the front door of the house close and the voices fade out of existence that he finally allowed himself to climb back into his car, turning the key in the ignition and cranking the heat up.

He had been this close to her. As he sat in his car, listening to the heat tick against the cold metal of the engine, John thought that maybe he would not be able to be as careful as he would have liked with this whole thing. Time was rapidly running out, and things were only going to get worse the longer he spent dallying.

Besides—if memory served him correctly, Elliot had always slept better with him there. Even if it wasn’t the most ideal reunion he could have pictured, he thought it was as close as he was going to get.

It certainly wasn’t how he anticipated meeting his mother-in-law, at any rate.

In the console, the rattling vibration of plastic on plastic broke him out of his thoughts. John fished around absently, eyes burning with exhaustion, until he could pull the cell phone out and regard the unregistered number for a moment. It had to be either Jacob or Joseph, given they were the only ones who had access to this phone number, but that thought was oddly uncomfortable.

He hit the green accept button, clearing his throat. “Hello?”

“John. How are you doing?”

It was Joseph’s voice, familiar but altogether strange, too. They hadn’t spoken before he’d left the compound, and Hope County—in part because Joseph had been deep in his singular loneliness, convening with God, and in part because John had not wanted to think about the conversation they would have had regarding bringing Elliot back. There was too much there to unpack, really; Joseph’s dislike (hatred?) of what she had done was abundantly clear, but his elder brother couldn’t find it in himself to deny, either, the importance of returning her back to the fold.

“I’m alright,” John replied, cautiously. He thought about whether or not to mention Elliot’s sleepwalking, and then decided against it. “How are things at the compound?”

“They’re good.” There was a pause. “You sent Isolde here.”

It was a statement, not a question. John pressed his mouth into a thin line. He wondered if Isolde had been polite—and then reminded himself that it was Isolde, and no amount of bad blood or past history would ever get her to shut up.

So he said, “She’s the next best thing, after me.”

“I see.” Joseph seemed to want to say something else, his voice lingering absently on the other end of their phone call: but if he was going to say what it was, he didn’t make any move to, and John felt that nervous, anxious energy pushing up high in his throat.

“It’s important to me,” John managed out after a minute, “that you and the others are well taken care of while I’m here dealing with…”

“Our wayward lamb.”

The tightness in Joseph’s voice was not lost on John, and he cleared his throat.

“Right. But I’m going to be—touching base with her soon, and we’ll be back on the road in no time.”

Touching base didn’t sound quite right. It didn’t feel quite as momentous as it was going to feel, he thought—but making contact also didn’t hit the same. It was going to be near-disastrous, he was sure, no matter how he went about it.

At first, anyway. And then she would understand, of course, that everything he had done had been for them; everything had been done for her sake, for her future with him, and she would finally, finally be fucking grateful.

“See that you do, and are,” Joseph said after a minute. “We need our brother here, John. You, and our sister and nephew.”

Our sister, Joseph said. Something about that didn’t feel good at all, John thought, but he swallowed back the uneasy bile in his throat.

“Of course,” he replied after a moment. “I understand completely.”

“Goodnight, John.”

The call clicked off before John could even open his mouth to reply, leaving him with only the dead air and the stifling silence of steady snowfall around him.

Good night indeed.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When Elliot awoke that morning, it was to the sound of conversation downstairs and Boomer’s frantic barking.

She struggled out of bed, eyes blurry from exhaustion. Her body ached, dull and faintly reminiscent of her late-night jaunt out into the snow; she pushed the door open, only for Boomer to instantly race down the stairs.

“Elliot,” her mother called, her voice pitching high with frustration, “ please come control your beast.”

Boomer was barking mad. He was barking angry, the kind of vicious alert noise he made when he saw someone he did not like. Elliot barely managed to collect herself to get down the stairs to apologize profusely to whoever it was her hound was currently yelling at when she stopped short at the end of the stairs.

It was John. John, sitting on her couch. John, coming to a stand when she came down the stairs. John, hair tousled out from its normally perfectly-gelled slick-back style, John in street clothes, John John John existing in her space and breathing her air and flashing her a stupid smile that she wanted to immediately punch in.

Her brain fizzed and sputtered to a stop. She had thought, should this moment ever come, that she would feel scared. Panicked. But she didn’t feel any of those things. She only felt—

Furious.

The kind of strange, quiet fury that arrived like death, sudden and violent and crashing over her in waves until all she could think about was getting her hands around John’s throat.

She was vividly, ferociously reminded of the drag of John’s finger along her sternum. Yours must surely be the sin of Wrath.

It felt something close to nirvana, though, in a strange, intoxicating way. All this time she had spent being worried that someone was hunting her, someone like Burke—desperate to Do Right by the law—or maybe even the Seeds themselves, because some kind of cosmic force had been on their side for reasons even she couldn’t formulate. But now?

Now, the man who had been the apex predator, the man who had dragged her through a drug-riddled nightmare, the man who had lied and lied and lied endlessly, ceaselessly, who had

(I love you, Elliot)

pretended to give a shit about the things that she wanted, was here.

Within reach.

It was a different kind of adrenaline rush, one that she hadn’t realized she had missed until her attention had zeroed in directly on John and the imminent threat that he posed. The things he could tell her mother, the things she had worked so hard to keep at bay and far behind her—John was the manifestation of all of those things, and she was fucking mad.

“Elliot,” her mother said, breaking her from the strange, dreamlike haze her fury had plunged her into, “John tells me that he’s your...”

And then Scarlet’s voice trailed off.

“What?” Elliot bit out, crushing the bones of the words between her teeth. “ John says he’s my what, mother?”

John exhaled through his mouth. There was an infuriatingly charming smile planted on his face, but if she looked close enough, she could see lines of tension there, too; she wondered if he’d really thought her mother would be a safer bet than her. “Ell,” he began, the nickname grinding Elliot’s good nature to a halt, “I think it’s important that we—”

But before he could finish his thought, Elliot interjected, “Shut. The. Fuck. Up. ”

Boomer’s barking had dwindled into low, threatening growls, his hackles fully raised like little pin needles along his spine. He was laser-focused on John, with one ear cocked in her direction, waiting. On the couch, John shifted uncomfortably.

“Bunny,” her mother said, her voice tight and her mouth set in a prim line at the expletive she’d just barked out, “tell the hound to be quiet.”

“Sit,” Elliot ordered, which did not equate to quiet, but which Boomer obeyed anyway. She thought maybe she would have been more stressed about it if she were not fully confident in her ability to heel him, should the need arise.

“I only wanted,” John tried again, raising his hands like he was trying not to spook a wild bronco, “for us to have a moment—”

“It’s nice to want things,” she bit out viciously. “There are a lot of things I want, too.”

Her mother came to a stand, clearing her throat and instantly drawing their eyes.

“Mr. Seed,” Scarlet said, her voice mild, “please take a seat. You’re raising my blood pressure, looming in my vision like that.”

John took in a breath and then re-seated himself, planting a smile on his face. “John is fine, Mrs. Honeysett.”

Her mother gave him a scathing once-over before she said, very pointedly, “Mr. Seed tells me he is your husband.”

It might as well have been a slap to the face. Elliot was viciously reminded of their last interaction—the threat of murder, the oh-so-satisfying sting of her palm connecting with his face. The last well-and-true violation John had committed against their wobbly, new-born trust.

Her stomach lurched. The kind of nausea that came with rage welled up inside of her, and she blinked furiously, wishing for once that the adrenaline did not make her so very focused and hyper-aware and instead that she could actively choose to check-out of reality.

“He’s a fucking liar,” was what ended up coming out of her mouth, because it wasn’t incriminating either way. John Seed was a liar. A deceiver. And while they might —maybe, tenuously, questionably—be married in the eyes of the law (something which Elliot could, unfortunately, not prove one way or the other), that didn’t mean fuck all.

“At the very least, you won’t be having a baby out of wedlock,” her mother continued, her voice tight with some unreadable emotion that implied she was not pleased by this development at all. She was eyeing Elliot, studying her, and for once a scolding for her poor language did not ensue. “I imagine you’ll want a moment to discuss in private what our next steps are.”

There are no next steps, Elliot thought viciously, loosening the vice-clench of her hands and feeling the blood come rushing, stinging back into her palms. She watched the corner of John’s mouth tick upward, amused; infuriatingly handsome, per usual, so much so that she wanted to just punch his fucking teeth in. There are no next steps for John Seed, not with me.

“Yeah,” she said finally, eyes narrowing, gritting the words out between her teeth. “I would love to have a moment alone with John.”

The casual smile on John’s face downturned, just a little. It was the kind of uneasy expression that came with getting what he wanted so easily, too easily, that he didn’t know if it was really what he wanted anymore. Good. She wanted him to squirm.

“I’ll be upstairs,” Scarlet replied, sweeping past her. “And you just call if you need me, bunny.”

Elliot made a small noise of agreement. The tense, drawn line of her mother’s shoulders implied a distinct dislike, and she could already feel the judgments welling up—things that John would certainly deserve. Things that her mother would wait to slip into idle, polite conversation, if it ever got to that point. Which she would do her fucking damnedest to make sure that it didn’t.

As soon as her mother had drifted wraithlike up the stairs, a moment of silence stretched between them. John came to a stand, keeping his hands up and in plain view as he took a few steps forward, inspiring in Boomer a few short, vicious barks that reminded him their friendship had been temporary and fleeting.

“Ell,” John began, “I know that you’re—”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

He exhaled, once, out of his nose. “ Elliot,” he tried again, “a lot of things were said—”

Elliot felt the anger spike in her violently. “Oh, were there?”

“My God, are you going to let me finish a sentence?”

“I should rip your fucking tongue out of your mouth, you lying rat,” Elliot snapped viciously. “What are you doing here? Why are you here? How did you fucking—how are the police not—the government —”

John flashed her a half-cocked smile that she was sure had inspired homicidal tendencies before, and would do so again. “Are you really that surprised they weren’t able to keep us?”

“This is not the fucking time,” she hissed, pitching her voice low, “to be playing games with me, John Seed.”

“No game,” he promised as he mimicked her volume. “We found a way out. I’m presuming, not unlike the same strategy with which you found a way out, isn’t that right?”

She felt her teeth clench. Of course he fucking knows, something inside of her whispered viciously. Of course he knows, he’s not stupid about things like that. Just everything else.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said finally. “You have no way of knowing that Burke didn’t send me off to a therapist and let me go.”

“Sure, Elliot,” John murmured, his voice slick, “Cameron Burke, U.S. Federal Marshal, shipped you off to a therapist who found out you were perfectly well-adjusted after caving a man’s face in with a blunt object and now you’re here, living in bumfuck nowhere Georgia. How’s mama Honeysett feel about that, anyway?” He tilted his chin, eyes sly. “About all the killing—”

She swung without thinking. It was a knee-jerk reaction, no thought and no pre-meditation, only pure and unadulterated gut-instinct to impact her fist with his face. Unfortunately, John seemed to have been prepared for it, and stepped back just in time, catching her wrist.

“I’m a quick study,” John murmured, his voice pitching low into a threat, “and I’m not interested in losing any teeth.”

“Brave of you to put your hand so close to my face,” Elliot snapped in a hiss. She jerked her wrist out of his grip like it had burned her, and it might as well have—the contact of skin, not unlike the ways John had touched and grabbed her before, when he’d had a right to.

Regarding her warily, he dropped his hand to his side. “You ran away with our baby.”

“I would hardly call leaving you to your own devices as I made a leisurely departure with government officials ‘running away’.”

“You ran away with our baby,” he repeated, cocking his head to the side. “I think the exact words were ‘you should have considered that before you fucking came inside me, you cunt’.”

Elliot’s mouth twisted. She was trying not to smile, because despite the absolute absurdity of the situation—the punch of those words still felt satisfying, in a strange, twisted way. Even though it was for that exact reason that she found herself in this situation now: pregnant, and struggling to feel like she was really that, like she was anything more than a temporary vessel for the baby who didn’t quite feel real to her yet.

John’s eyes flickered. “Find that amusing?”

“Yeah,” she replied sharply, “I think it’s some of my best work. Short of slapping you in the face. I do wish I’d made it a closed-fist punch, if I’m being honest.”

He seemed pleased at that, as though the reminder of her Wrath was a comforting familiarity, and she wished she hadn’t fallen so easily back into their old cadence. Steeling herself, she said, “You need to leave.”

“I think I’m exactly where I need to be,” John assured her. “With my unborn child, and my wife —”

“Don’t you fucking—”

“—and my mother-in-law,” he finished demurely, “who surely knows everything about what we’ve been up to these last few weeks. Doesn’t she?”

Elliot stared at him. No was the correct and truthful answer. No, her mother did not know what had been happening these last few weeks, was blissfully unaware of the extent of Eden’s Gate and their evil as well as the things that Elliot herself had done. If her mother had known what she’d done—if her mother had known the things John had done—she would have been horrified. Disgusted. Repulsed.

I’m it for you, John had said, and

(maybe that was true, maybe he was the only person who would ever be able to get her, accept her, love her)

fuck him for saying so.

“The irony of you threatening me with pure honesty isn’t lost on me. And I don’t know what you’re hoping to accomplish,” Elliot said sourly, after a moment. “Blackmail isn’t exactly the way to a girl’s heart, and certainly doesn’t convince me of your qualifications as a father.”

“Desperate times,” John allowed, tilting his chin up playfully, “desperate measures. And it isn’t blackmailing, per se. You could have just as easily told your mother everything that had happened and I’d have nothing working in my favor.”

But of course, he had known her better than that. John had seen the way killing Kian had affected her, the way it affected her when she was faced with the mountain of bodies she had left behind her, the shame and disconcertion at finding something wretched and wrathful inside of herself and liking it.

So he hadn’t gambled at all, really, and she supposed that she wasn’t that surprised.

He paused, studying her for a moment, before he added, “Not to mention, you are carrying my baby.”

My baby, something hissed inside of Elliot, wretched and protective, something that had otherwise been dormant inside of her up until now; not your baby, my baby.

“All I want,” he continued as he kept his voice low, sauntering closer, trying to do that thing that he did where he crowded up against her and made her brain go fuzzy, “is a chance.”

“Fuck you,” Elliot snapped. “I should have throttled you the second you walked through my fucking door.”

“But you didn’t,” he pointed out. The arrogance bled through and into his voice, bright and sharp. “And you haven’t. And that’s because you lo—”

This time, Elliot’s swing wasn’t anticipated at all, and she landed a sharp, open-palm slap to the side of John’s face. He reached up, working his jaw, his eyes narrowed as that tell-tale anger colored his expression. Good, she thought venomously, watching the red bloom just under his skin, good, I hope it fucking hurts, you stupid fucker.

“Next time you presume to tell me how I feel about you,” she warned, “it will be closed-fist. And I won’t fucking miss.”

John’s eyes flashed with something dangerous and angry. But he said, “I’m glad I didn’t break that wrathful streak out of you,” with no absence of affection-tipped venom.

“Elliot?”

It was Scarlet’s voice, drifting down from the stairs. Elliot gave John one hard, vicious look before she turned to see her mother standing at the landing where the two stairways converged at the top of the main staircase, regarding them with a critical eye.

“Have you sorted it all out?” she asked after a moment. “All of this…business?”

“I’m going to be in town for a while longer,” John said, before Elliot could formulate a response, inspiring in her yet another bout of homicidal rage that she had to quickly reel in. “I’m determined to make this work, no matter how long it takes.” And then, in what he surely thought was a very charming gesture: “I’m very pleased to get to know my mother-in-law a little better, as well.”

“Ah,” Scarlet replied. She then refused to elaborate. 

“I hope,” John continued after a moment, “that’s alright with you, Mrs. Honeysett.”

Her brow arched upward, looking between Elliot and John expectantly, making it clear that was all she had to say on that. It was satisfying, to watch her mother operate as she always did without even knowing the true nature of John Seed. It was the least he deserved

“I really think you should just go,” Elliot said tightly as she turned her attention to him. “Back to Hope County, I mean. Your brothers probably need your help.”

“They’re fine,” John said, feigning sweetness despite the red sting of her slap still fresh on his skin and her mother's very apparent disdain, “and nothing is more important to me than you and the baby, Elliot.”

Saccharine and venomous. Fuck, I hate him.

“I’ll get a room in the motel here,” he continued, brightly. “That way we’ll have plenty of time to spend together. Catch up. Has Elliot told you much about Hope County these last few weeks, Mrs. Honeysett?”

"Fine," Elliot bit out, just as her mother cut in, "That won't do at all," and they looked at each other with the same amount of wounded incredulity.

"He'll stay with us." Her mother's voice was decisive. "Not in that run-down motel."

"Mother," Elliot bit out.

"I won't have a man traipsing in and out of my house at all hours of the night, living like some vagabond," Scarlet asserted. "Especially not the father of my grandchild. And you certainly don’t expect me to explain that to people."

Elliot could feel the headache blistering behind her eyes. She didn't even need to look at John to know he was grinning, ear to ear, like a fucking Cheshire Cat. It was the blatant and unimpressive downside to her mother remaining completely in the dark about what had happened in Hope County—and if John had thought he had leverage over her before, he certainly thought so now. There was no way Scarlet would have insisted he stay if she really knew.

This was bad. Devastatingly, infuriatingly, chop-her-hair-off-and-run-away bad. The kind of bad that only happened in horror comedies. Suddenly, she thought that dyeing her hair had been the most reasonable thing to do, and that her margin for acting out had increased exponentially.

"That's so kind of you," John said pleasantly from behind her. "Thank you."

"It is kind of me," was her mother's clipped agreement. "Make sure you move your…" Scarlet gestured vaguely with one elegant hand. "Vehicle behind the garage, Mr. Seed. I do not need my driveway looking like a scrapyard." Her head tilted, eyes narrowed. "Bunny, help me prepare the guest room."

She resisted the urge to sigh, knowing that if there was one thing her mother would not tolerate, it was an insolent child. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Her mother gave the two of them one more leisurely, scathing sweep-over with her eyes, making a noise that bordered skillfully between discontent and acquiescence before she departed up the stairs to leave them alone once again.

“Do we really need separate rooms?” John mused, as though he had not hunted her down five states away and showed up unannounced at her home after systematically lying to her. “I mean—you are carrying my child.”

There it was, that little spark again, pure defiance: my baby, I’m carrying them, you’ve done nothing, like all of a sudden this baby had become more hers than it had ever felt before the second John tried to stake his claim on it. “I’m going to punch your fucking teeth in,” she hissed, “if you don’t get the fuck out of swinging range.”

“I did so miss our rapport.”

“Final warning.”

He flashed her a grin that was all teeth, and she regretted, in fact, having given him a warning at all; it seemed that even though their time together had been short, old habits did die hard.

The brunette swung around on his heel, pulling the keys out of his pocket and sauntering toward the door. He truly did embody the cat that had caught the canary, more so than Elliot would have liked to admit, turning to look at her through playfully narrowed eyes. “In case you were wondering—”

“I’m not.”

“I like the red,” he finished, voice bleeding with self-satisfaction, “bunny.”

It was good, for his sake, that he had waited until he was out of reach to say so.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“ That one, Elliot?”

“Mama,” she gritted out, her fingers digging viciously into the fabric of the sheets, “please, I do not want to have this conversation.”

“I just think,” her mother amended curtly as she passed a scathing look over the brunette Elliot was currently considering shoving through the stained glass of the front door, “you could have at least picked the tall one.”

Elliot stared at her mother from across the king-sized guest bed, blinking rapidly. “You mean...Jacob?” Ugh, she thought, remembering the way John’s eldest brother had grinned at her when she’d threatened to kill him and said, yeah, you think you can, little girl? Fucker.

“Is that the redhead?”

“Yes.”

Scarlet nodded sagely. “You have to be mindful of who you pick to build a life with,” her mother intoned dutifully. “Genes, and the like. Both your daddy and I are tall, and you’re so short, honey. You want to set the baby up for success, don’t you?”

“I’m not—” Absurd. Absolutely absurd, this conversation she was having, not only that her mother thought she would just have her fucking pick of Seed brothers to be impregnated by, let alone that she would ever fucking want Jacob Seed that close to her. “I’m not discussing whether or not I’d let Jacob Seed into my bed, mother.”

“Well,” Scarlet replied primly, smoothing out the comforter meticulously with her hand, “John’s quite...alternative, anyway. I just never knew you liked...” Her voice trailed off again, and she gestured vaguely.

Elliot arched a brow at her. “Liked?”

“That,” her mother finished after a moment, and then sighed, like it had been excruciating for her to say so. It wasn’t as though they’d had many heart-to-hearts about what kind of boy Elliot liked, anyway. “You know, the—tattoos. And whatnot.”

“They don’t bother me one way or another, mama.”

“I find your taste in men quite eclectic. What happened to that nice young man you went to high school with? And all of those school dances? He was nice. Didn’t you two work together at the sheriff’s office?”

The last person that Elliot wanted to discuss in terms of a romantic relationship was the one man she’d dated in high school. Staci Pratt had been evacuated with the others, and was hopefully living his life with a steadfast therapist somewhere far from Hope County, just like the rest of the Resistance. She cleared her throat.

“I’m not having a baby with Staci Pratt.”

“I know that.”

“Can we please,” she started, “can we please stop talking about this? I really don’t even want John staying here, but you insisted, and—”

Scarlet crossed her arms over her chest, frowning. “Well, why not? Don’t you like him? Enough to marry him and have a baby with him, anyway.”

I don’t, that vicious little voice inside of Elliot hissed, I didn’t say yes, I didn’t want to marry him, I don’t think I even want to marry anyone, stop talking about it, please.

It made her sick to her stomach, to think about John being her husband, to think about the fact that she was having his baby, and maybe that was why she hadn’t been able to feel quite so much like herself as of late; maybe that was why she had been feeling so disconnected from the baby, because she hadn’t quite reconciled how they had come to be in the first place.

She hadn’t reconciled that she had been so, so, incredibly, wretchedly stupid.

“Is there something you aren’t telling me?” Scarlet asked after a moment, watching her from across the bed, her mouth turning into a firmer, more deep-set frown. “You seemed awfully unhappy to have him here.”

“We didn’t leave on good terms,” Elliot muttered, clearing her throat and busying herself with pulling pillowcases onto the pillows. Fuck, she couldn’t believe she was doing this. Making up a bed in her guest room for John fucking Seed.

Her mother moved around to the foot of the bed, stepping carefully over Boomer so as not to disturb him where he lay. She paused at the door, just long enough without saying anything to draw Elliot’s attention back to her, before she exhaled softly.

“It’s Christmas next week,” her mother said after moment, completely ruining the illusion she’d had of her mother actually asking her something meaningful. “The perfect time to practice patience.”

Elliot felt her mouth twist viciously, turning away and dropping the pillows on the bed so that her mother wouldn’t see. The last thing she needed to give John Seed was patience. Least of all Christmas-spirit-induced patience. He deserved far, far less, and much worse, than that.

“Don’t forget about your doctor’s appointment,” her mother called as she departed the room, “and hurry down to eat something before you run your beast.”

It was better this way, anyway. To have John here. If he wasn’t in the custody of Federal agents, the next best place he could be was where she could see him—keep tabs on him, keep aware of what kinds of shit he was up to. And maybe he’d get so tired with her mother’s particular brand of vitriol that he’d fucking leave.

I should be so lucky.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“What is this?”

Kajsa’s voice broke her out of her reverie. She had been watching the snowfall, flecking against the window in crystalline geometrics, methodical and variable all at the same time—but the surprise peaking in her harbinger’s voice was enough to draw her eyes away.

The heater in the car rattled, straining against the cold temperatures. Kajsa’s dark eyes had narrowed, and when Helmi followed her gaze, it was to the front of the mother’s house. Their little interloper was heading up the front steps, having apparently come from behind the two-story shop and garage to head back inside.

And then he let himself in.

“He is moving quickly, this little snake of ours,” Kajsa murmured, her voice flecked with amusement. “I thought he’d be exercising more caution.”

Helmi made a low noise. This was...displeasing, to say the least. They had been counting on John’s interference being minimal, given that he was away from home and all of his little pets. Apparently, it had only made him more bold.

And that just wouldn’t do at all.

“You will go back,” the black-haired woman beside her announced, decisively.

“What?” Helmi asked, brows furrowing together at the center of her forehead. “Back to Hope County? But—I should be here, with you. My place is—I belong with you. What about...”

Kajsa leaned back against her seat, her eyes never once having left the house. As Helmi’s voice trailed off, unused to presenting distress or dislike of a decision made by her superior, the woman’s jaw worked absently, the brush of her dark, sooty lashes caressing the top of her cheekbones. Singularly devastating and beautiful, as always, though in moments like this Helmi wished it weren’t so distracting.

“I can open our mother to the influence on my own,” she said at last, and finally turned her slate-gray gaze to Helmi. “I want you to return to our family back in Montana. Do whatever you would like, but make sure you are making them sweat. ”

She turned in her seat now, so that they were facing each other, taking Hel’s face in her hands. The pads of Kajsa’s thumbs swept across her cheeks, affectionate.

“Strangle them,” Kajsa murmured. “I want you to be my tourniquet. Stop the bleeding where you can. Tighten so ferociously around those apostates that John Seed will have no choice but to abandon our mother and leave her to me.”

I don’t want to leave, Helmi thought, watching the woman’s dark eyes—so dark, so dark, faded and distant while her pupils ate away at her irises. I don’t want to leave you.

“It is best.” Her voice pitched, soft and low, almost lulling. “For the end. For our winter, Helmi. I do not want you to go, and I will grieve, just like you will.” She tilted her head, drawing Helmi’s eyes to the wisps of dark hair spilling like black moonlight against the porcelain of her throat. “And what do we say to our grief?”

“Sorrow shared,” Helmi whispered, “sorrow halved.”

“That is exactly right.” Kajsa leaned back, the curve of her dark mouth, feline and sharp, wrenching right on Helmi’s resolve. “You will go for me, won’t you?”

I don’t want to, she thought again, the idea of leaving Kajsa alone to sit in the dark, to peel apart the mother’s layers one by one, unthread her, a distressing one. They had never been so far apart. I don’t want to be away from you.

“Helmi.”

“I will,” she managed out at last. “For you.” I would do anything, for you.

Kajsa’s smile widened, razor-sharp.

“And that is why," the woman murmured, "you are perfect to me."

[florbelles]

'rip to he' and/or 'the burke roast'?

thank you so much! 💕 i have not forgotten these, sorry it’s been an eternity and a half (as per usual).

RIP TO HE

The context here is pretty apparent from the piece, I think, especially to anyone who more or less knows what happens in Lyra’s story, but a group of the valley’s chosen is hunkered down at the ranch after they receive word that John was killed and Lyra is presumed dead (Hudson took advantage of the chaos and made her escape and the bunker is unstable but not destroyed). Lyra turns up on the ranch’s doorstep three days later looking like a corpse, and the door is opened by John’s bodyguard, Luke.

[EXCERPT]

(unedited and relatively unreviewed disclaimer here)

Something’s wrong. She’s swaying in the doorway, lips pale and drawn, skin caked with mud, dirt, blood – oh, god, so much blood – and she staggers toward him, bloodshot eyes staring blankly.

This is not their herald.

“Lyra,” he stammers. He steps back. “Praise the Father, we thought you were –“

“Where the fuck were you?”

Her voice is throaty, hoarse, low, too low, words rasping out of a dry throat. She still hasn’t blinked. Her eyes are wide, the whites showing, blazing. Her flesh is bloodless. Her side is open.

“I –“ he opens his mouth, closes it, looks to them for assistance, finds none. “We came here, after – John – he told us to get him to the airstrip.”

She’s nodding rapidly, but she’s not listening, it’s manic, wild, disconnected. Her mouth is a snarl.

“You’re not answering the question.” She stares at him. Swallows once. Luke’s eyes dart over to where they’re huddled again, and Matthew shakes his head.

“Where the fuck were you?” she repeats, quiet now. Too quiet.

“I didn’t – we – everything happened – there were –“

“Where the fuck were you?” she shoves him back, and she’s starting to break, and oh, god, her hands, her hands are wrong.

Her nails are gone, fingertips torn and bloody.

Oh, Jesus.

Oh, Jesus.

“Where the fuck were you?”

She’s shrieking, now.

“I didn’t – please – I –“

“Where the fuck were you?”

She yanks his head back by his hair and her ravaged hand goes to his throat, clamps that place at the base of his neck shut the way they’ve watched her do it a hundred times, hundreds upon hundreds over to hundreds upon hundreds of the unfaithful, but no, not the same at all; he coughs, his eyes bulge, grotesque, his tongue protrudes sickeningly from his mouth, and it happens so fast, too fast, there’s a crash, she’s spun him around, she’s bashed his head into the stairs.

His mouth gapes, his body stills, too stunned to fight, too stunned to speak, and she brings his head down on the corner again.

It’s impossible she should have that strength. She’s half dead, or mostly dead, or back from the dead. She couldn’t. She can’t.

But she does.

“Where” – slam – “the fuck” – slam – “were you?”

She’s smashing, smashing, and his face is caved in, bloody, unrecognizable, his skull his cracked, its insides are spilling onto the stairs, and she’s still screaming, where the fuck was he, where the fuck was he, and a piece of his hair comes off in her hand, rips from his scalp, and she seems to realize he’s dead, dead, long past dead, her breath ragged and heaving, her hands shaking. She lets out a whimper, a sob, looks from her fist full of bloody hair to the body on the stair. Her breath hitches.

She doubles over, a wail rips from her throat, erupting through her body, high, piercing, a shriek, an animal sound.

A banshee scream.

“Oh,” she whispers, crawling toward him, what’s left of him, the mangled bloody mess. “Oh. Luke. I’m sorry.”

She’s crying quietly, now, rocking, holding his corpse. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It was not your fault. I’m sorry.”

She looks up, seeming to notice them for the first time, and her face is still inhumanly pale, her eyes wild.

“I did not mean –“

“We thought you were dead,” Matthew croaks.

She nods once. “I am.” She drops Luke’s head, watches it thud again down onto the staircase one final time. She nods slowly again. “I am.”

BURKE ROAST

No Burkes were roasted in this WIP.

This document is most of the scenes involving/leading up to the arrest attempt, usually from Burke’s POV (the titular roast is actually Burke mentally hating on literally everyone around him because he’s 100% done with this shit.) This excerpt is Burke and Lyra’s first real meeting; she’s circling the department to get intel on the impending arrest and seeking Nancy’s aid in getting her on the task force, posing as an investigative media contact (the reason, she insinuates, she arrived shortly before the now-vanished camera crew – untrue, of course). Burke ain’t having it; he doesn’t think much of her or of the cult leader he’s been sent to arrest, and he sure as hell doesn’t think much of this god forsaken job. It’s a rough piece, but it's a good example of how Lyra works; she doesn't directly lie, everything she says is some version of the truth, but the insinuations and implications are extremely wrong (she has been at this for months, but "at this" is working for the Project, not watching them; she did slice her palm open by grabbing a blade, but it was during her first kill when she was 18, not a recent injury; her hand is bandaged here to cover her Eden’s Gate tattoo.)

[EXCERPT]

“You see, darling —” she gestures to the WRATH sprawling across her breasts in large, angry lettering, “— it’s personal.”

“All the more reason for you to stay the fuck out of it.”

“You misunderstand.” She smiles softly. “I’m not seeking vengeance. My personal stake is an investment. I’ve been at this for months.”

“What happened to your hand?” he asks abruptly.

She glances at the bandage winding around her palm, disinterested. “Cut myself. Grabbed a knife.”

“You should be more careful,” he says.

“Hm.” She takes a drag, blows the smoke out through pursed lips, more in his direction than the wind blows.

He coughs, pointed, and wishes he had a goddamn cigarette.

“Look, we done here?”

"Burke, darling.” She’s studying her cigarette, watching the wisps of smoke drift upward. “You're not completely stupid, so I'm going to assume that you're corrupt.”

He stares at her. “The fuck did you just say?”

“Do you not find it odd?” She meets his gaze evenly. Her mouth curves with a smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. “You would think in this situation there would be a plant, would you not? A stakeout of some sort. Someone on the inside.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“It’s sabotage, don’t you see?” she leans forward, more eager, now, eyes lit up, teeth bared. “Have you not wondered why you’re the only one they’re sending? Have you not wondered why we’re going in —”

“You're not going in.”

“Fine.” Her lips curl, acidic, serpentine. “They are sending you in, eyes blind, guns blazing, and you are unbothered.”

Yeah, sure, that and everything else about this fucking job.

“No guns are gonna be blazing, alright?“

“If they’ve no informant on the inside, perhaps there’s a reason for that? Perhaps you’ve been set up.” She tilts her head. “Or perhaps Joseph Seed has thought of what you haven’t. They’ve a man on the inside, is that it? Perhaps it’s you. Perhaps that’s why I make you uncomfortable.”

Fucking hell. “I don’t have time for this shit.”

“Perhaps that’s why you oppose transparency.” She grins at that, takes another drag. She looks terribly pleased with herself. He wishes someone would smash those over-whitened teeth in. She steps closer to him and murmurs, only inches from his face, “are you frightened?”

He steps back, instinctively, and immediately hates himself for it. He isn’t paid enough to deal with this. He isn’t paid enough to deal with her.

“Jesus,” he mutters. “Look, lady, I don’t know where you came from or who the fuck you’re supposed to be —”

“You wish for my credentials? You may speak to Nancy, if it bothers you.” She drops her cigarette on the ground, crushes it beneath the red sole that’s probably worth more than his next paycheck, maybe his next five, who the fuck knows. “Is that all?”

She’s apparently decided it is, because she’s flicked the flattened cigarette butt into the trash bin and is already gliding away, hips swaying precariously close to knocking against him as she passes, ridiculous heels clicking on the pavement.

“I’ll be seeing you around, darling,” she calls over her shoulder.

“Great,” he says. “Terrific.”

Pain in the fucking ass.

It isn’t until she’s gone he thinks to wonder how the hell she got there.

[lulu2992]

Ngl to me it makes more sense that ethan was Jacob or John's child or even a dead member of the cults and Joseph decided to take him in as his own (I'm just gonna pretend Megan's letter doesn't exist )

You’re not the only one; I’ve seen several people say they thought it would be more logical for Ethan to have been adopted and/or be Joseph’s nephew instead. But even though I still don’t think it makes sense for Joseph to have conceived a child, either, I believe that, in Far Cry New Dawn, he’s supposed to be Ethan’s biological father… Maybe I’m wrong but, if he weren’t, I imagine the game would have made it clear at some point. And this is probably an unpopular opinion, but I actually think Ethan’s face looks a bit like Joseph’s!

That said, New Dawn also leaves room for doubt, and while Joseph calls Ethan his son and the game never says they aren’t related, it also never really confirms they are.

The way Megan’s letter to Joseph is phrased, for example, is interesting. She wrote, “I taught [Ethan] to love your Word so he can be your son”. To me, this can either mean that he is Joseph’s biological child and Megan thought he could only be worthy of his father if he had faith in him and his message… or that he isn’t his son but that loving his Word would make him a good “spiritual heir”. The fact that we never know what Ethan’s last name is is intriguing as well.

And even their followers have doubts because a New Edener comments, “It’s hard to believe Ethan is Joseph’s son. I don’t see the resemblance”. As for Ethan, he simply says, “Because some people question it, yes, Joseph is my blood father. That’s what my mother told me, and I believe her”, which isn’t really definite proof.

So, to me, even though nobody ever says Ethan isn’t Joseph’s biological son, it looks like the devs expected (or even wanted) us to question his parentage. Interestingly, the ambiguity seems intentional.

[blissfulalchemist]

okay back for pre-relationship for cat/john <3 <3 <3

Yes you are more than welcome to come back any time!

How did they first meet?

Well okay technically John first met Cat while she was still recovering but it was her being brought to the Ranch to finish healing (Yeah he didn’t have his bed there for a few days). But for Cat it was her waking up in his bed and he was the lucky one sent up to check on her. She was stumbling out of the bed trying to make it to the bathroom and John ever being the gentleman helped her get there before going to let his brother know. There was very little said in that first encounter.

What was their first impression of each other?

Cat’s first impression was a bit of establishing that yeah he’s attractive but fear and uneasiness going along with it because well who is he, what does he want with her etc. She just had a lot of questions but he won a few points in helping her, but she was more fearful than anything.

John’s was curiosity at to what she had anything to do with God’s plan and doubtful that she would be able to fulfill what was needed. She just looked to nice, to innocent, to timid. He wasn’t too impressed with her in those very first minutes.  

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

I mean it was kind of an arranged marriage so on John’s end yes. Joseph was the one that set it up, Jacob was indifferent, while Faith was probably the most excited as it wasn’t just a boys club anymore. I feel if it wasn’t arranged to begin with they would have been okay with it as John is happy and sure she’s soft but maybe that’s just what he needs. 

Cat’s well no. She was still married and beyond that he was the leader of a cult that was starting to cause problems in the area. Even if Eden’s Gate never got to the level they did and she wasn’t married they still wouldn’t have as he was pretty religious and too much of a smooth talker, not to mention the issues with drugs and alcohol. They don’t judge that sort of stuff but they know how Cat is and worry more about her and her mental state in the long run. Her mom would have been the only one 100% on board as he does have religion and wealthy. 

Who felt romantic feelings first?

This goes to Cat. She loves so hard and so easily that its inevitable that she gets romantic feelings first in almost every relationship. 

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Both did to an extent. Cat more so because of everything else going on she just tries so hard to keep those romantic feelings at bay but damn its hard when you have to live with him and play happy married couple to the public. John resists because of his own insecurities and honestly look at her she’s just not right for him. He’d have to do nothing but protect her and she doesn’t even really believe in the cause, but he’s the one to eventually be open about them first. 

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

Neither of them would have believed you. Cat already had her soulmate and I mean John isn’t really the kind of person she would go for given the personality he shows off. John just wouldn’t because he doesn’t need a soulmate firstly and secondly he needs someone with more of a backbone honestly if it was to work long term. These two start off on either end of the spectrum that it would seem impossible to them that they would ever meet in the middle, let alone Cat going to where John started on the spectrum.

What would their lives be like if they had never met?

John would end up dead like in game events in the end. The message of John letting love into his heart determines if he lives or dies really applies to this story. John really only lives because Cat loved him and he allowed her love to effect him leading to it being Chance that was the one to take down Eden’s Gate and Faith making a case for John to be spared once it comes to the residents bringing him down. 

Cat would have lived her life as normal, never knowing Eden’s Gate ever existed. I’d like to say that she’d work for the resistance too but she’d still meet John eventually and the story would be different but there would be that encounter that would lead to some kind of relationship, even if it wasn’t romantic. Cat wouldn’t have had Liz though, she would have had a son with her husband and named him Damien. I hate to say it but Cat would have been better off never meeting John in the long run.

[heartofsnark]

This Is Love (Chapter Eleven): Angels of Doubt, Bearing Broken Halos

Notes; The chapter title is pretentious as fuck, but I don’t care. I’m very happy with the beginning of this chapter so I’m very excite to finally let y’all read it fully. Overall, this chapter definitely is more of the build up that this uhhhh nice little religious family mayyyyyhaps be a bit less nice than originally thought.

Word Count:  10451

Chapter Warnings: Cult Angels, Animal Death (in the context of dangerous wildlife needing to be put down), A Judge Wolf, Indoctrination, Assault, Me Awkwardly trying to write himbo Nick Rye for the first time

For chapter one and the warnings about this fic’s overarching themes, please click here!

For the previous chapter; click here!

They don’t go to The Spread Eagle that night, staying too late making plans. But it’s all for the best in the end, Casey would be more busy in the evening and if she’s interrupting his work, he’ll be less likely to listen. It’ll be easier to talk to him tomorrow just as the bar opens, before anyone arrives and during down time. Regardless, when she comes back to the trailer park. She breaks next to the registration building, checking her mailbox in case Cassie or Joseph had wrote her back, but no such luck. Maybe it will take a while for them to even get it?

A breeze passes through as she leaves the building, that familiar flower smell itching at her nose. The trailer park has fields of those white flowers surrounding it, the delicate petals seem ghostly in the moonlight. Moonflowers, the trailer park has to be named after them, these flowers that haunt her in her dreams. A shift of movement, far back in the expanse of flowers catches her eye. Someone tending to the flowers with a hoe, but she doesn’t know anyone in the trailer park who takes care of the flowers. Surely, if they had a grounds keeper, they’d start with the trash within area; not the flowers surrounding it. 

Dahlia decides to park her bike before investigating, not wanting to leave it in the open while she journeys through the flowers. She pulls out her phone once she’s parked, tucking one earbud in. If only to ease her nerves as she walks to confront the odd stranger. 

“When you told me I should text your brother.

I was walking with a blunt in my hand.

Double Jameson was in the other.

I was drinking like a spiritual man.”

She stands at the edge of the field of flowers, little the scent tickle her nose, watching the…person in the distance. Their gender, or at least presentation of it, unidentifiable. She blinks her eyes, when did she start seeing spots? Her tension eases, body and mind relaxing. 

“I was just talkin’ to Jesus in my hotel room.

I was just talkin’ to Jesus in my hotel room”

And she walks further through the flowers, brushing through them, fractals blurring her vision with every step. Her head swims and floats away, fuzzy as the smell surrounds her. She drags her fingers along the blossoms as she walks, grounding herself with their velvet touch, the contrast of her black painted fingernails against them. 

“And I could barely stand

He said, "Get some water, man"

'Cause they don't understand

I'm not what they think I am”

As she nears them with every unsteady step, she sees them more clearly. And truly they’re a ghastly sight. Shaved head and dirty white clothes; the smell of the flowers strengthens as she nears them, turning acrid with an edge. That smell comes from them, like they’d bathed in chemicals infused with the flowers. The mask latched around their grime coated face, covering their mouth is marked with the Eden’s Gate symbol. They pay her no mind, focused on tending to the moonflowers, their eyes are glazed nearly white and milky. Like Dahlia’s eyes looked her first night in Hope County, when she dreamed of Faith despite having never met her. 

“They can never ever understand me, no

What I came from, what I was before”

“Are you…okay?” She asks them, despite her own swimming vision and weak knees. 

“HelpmeFaithhelpmeFaithshieldmefromsorrow.” 

They grumble, not sing, the lyrics to one of Eden’s Gate’s songs. Their voice a rasp as if they can hardly breathe, each word running into the other, energy manic.  The moonlight shining on gaunt cheeks and white eyes makes them look dead, a walking corpse before her. She reaches out, gingerly touching their shoulder, hoping touch can break through whatever state they’re in. 

And then they scream, swing the garden hoe and bashing it against the side of Dahlia’s head. She’s knocked to the ground, head hitting rock and dirt. The creature screams out and jumps on her, trying to maul her. Vacant eyes staring down at her, her body and head too fuzzy to even give it the reaction it deserves. She should be scared, she should be terrified, but she isn’t. 

Gently, she puts her hands on each side of the person’s neck, applying pressure, not enough to strangle but to hold it at slight distance. It tries to dig dirty fingers into her flesh through her jacket, screaming mangled cries of pain or anger, she can’t tell as she looks over its face. The haunting glow of moonlight on their dirty face. 

“How you get to heaven with a broke halo?

How you get to heaven with a broke halo?”

“Help me, Faith,” Dahlia sings the song it used to soothe itself, “help me Faith, shield me from sorrow… From fear of tomorrow…”

And a switch has been flipped, it stops screaming. Body going lax, fingers no longer trying to tear her apart as she sings the church song, own voice overlapping the contrasting melody of her music. 

“Help me Faith, help me Faith, shield me from sadness…From worry and madness…” 

And it’s slipping out of her loosening hold and climbing off her, resuming it’s gardening work, as if she never existed at all. On trembling legs and with her vision still blurring, she leaves, not sure of what else to do. A part of her knows she should be more panicked, more concerned, more anything, but then she takes another inhale the floral scent around her and she can’t find the energy. It fades as she leaves the flowers and their scent behind, vision steadying as she enters her trailer, the full reality dawning on her just as she shuts the door behind her. 

“What the actual fuck!?” She screams at her empty living room, because what the actual fuck did she just see?  Her mouth is dry and her brain a mess as distress finally shines through the haze. 

Dahlia digs her phone out, shutting off her music and doing a search. Her vision is still fuzzy with prisms of shifting colors, body still light and floaty. They were there the first time she saw Faith, they constantly itch her nose and make her eyes see things. The church compound was covered in bushels of them.  

Moonflowers, she searches, and sure enough the images show the white trumpet shaped blossoms. Also called datura, angel trumpets and it’s down a rabbit hole. They’re toxic and hallucinogenic, can be harvested for either medication or poison. Scopolamine and atropine are in them; Dahlia does not even remotely know jack shit about chemistry. But a quick search shows scopolamine has been used in everything from nausea medicine to truth serum. So…she may have just hallucinated the person? From the flowers… but when she touches her forehead, where the person stuck her, blood stains her fingers. She really did get hurt…

Dahlia grabs her sketchbook, sitting down on the floor before her coffee table as she’s done so many times before, and she draws what she saw. Painstakingly she tries to recreate them, to draw the gaunt of their cheeks and the grime on their skin. To catch the white emptiness of their eyes. And she dates the drawing, scratching out the date in as neatly as she can. And on the next page she draws her first weird dream, sketching herself vomiting flowers and blood, those moonflowers. She adds the rough date she remembers it happening in the corner when she’s satisfied. Then she draws herself burnt and marred with flowers blooming from her mangled remains, hand moving of it’s own accord to match the details, shutting out the rest of the world as she works to carefully craft every line. She dates it as well and then draws the newest one, smears of ink on bare skin with flowers blooming from them. 

Once each image is created with a date etched in its corner, she sits back and rakes a hand through her hair. She’s had nightmares before this, certainly, but never as frequent or vivid as these. Flowers are the recurring theme and she’s not sure why; maybe the datura are doing it? The scent of them always present, making her sleeping brain conjure odd images. She already has a list of things to do; the apple festival is the highest priority, but she still wants to know what each flower means and what on earth is working in those flower fields, what connection it has to Eden’s Gate. 

She’s exhausted, graphite from her pencil smudged and sticking to her hand. But she feels more at ease having put her demons into art, having created something out of this. There’s still a lot of questions in her mind. This constant back in forth of trusting the church only to doubt them again is frustrating. 

Dahlia barely manages not to fall asleep in the shower that night, exhaustion clinging heavy to her leaden muscles and pulling at her eyelids when she lays down on her couch. 

The junior deputy is running on two hours of sleep, coffee, and an energy drink the next morning. But that doesn’t stop her from swinging into The Spread Eagle as soon as it opens, Pratt in tow since they’re technically on shift. 

“Something wrong, deputies?” Mary May asks when they stride in, Dahlia can already see Casey through the kitchen window, prepping food for the later in the evening. 

“No, we actually just wanted to talk to you and Casey about something.” 

“What’s up?” Mary May raises an eyebrow and the chef’s head perks up. 

Dahlia explains Debbie and Doug’s situation, that John is trying to buy them out, at the very mention of the Seed sibling’s name she can see Mary May tense. But the tension lessens, smiles on the bartender and cook’s face when the deputy mentions their plans for an apple festival. 

“I know we could use more cooks selling food there and Debbie mentioned you work with the Testy Festy, Casey.” 

“Plus, figured the band that plays here, might be willing to work a night or two if you talked to ‘em Mary May.” 

“Look, you had me at pissing off John Seed,” Mary May says, grinning, “I’ll talk to the band and Casey, you damn well better help them out.” 

“Come around here, sister,” Casey calls out, voice deep and booming as she walks around into the kitchen already warm as starts prepping food, he spares her a glance as he minces vegetables, “your destiny hangs off you like a coat, the soul of a warrior, and the heart of a hero.” 

Dahlia blinks, taken aback by his unabashed and weirdly soulful compliments. She doesn’t really believe in destiny nor does she see herself as a warrior or hero, but she certainly appreciates the thought. Her heart, that of a hero apparently, warms and she smiles after another second.

“So…you’ll help?” 

“It’s important for people to gather, to bond, and feel a sense of community.  I’ll call Deb and Doug to offer any help I can.” 

“Thank you so much!” Dahlia grins: Casey is definitely an odd duck, but he cares about the community and willing to help. So, a fantastic guy in her book. 

“Happy to help, sister.” 

First two people dragged into their plan, Pratt and Dahlia give some friendly goodbyes before being on their way. This is already coming together and Stray is nearly vibrating with excitement as they leave the bar. 

The pair continue to do their patrol while swinging in to talk with folks about the festival. They swing by Lorna’s Truck Stop, Dahlia unable to resist snapping a picture of the giant cheesy cow statue outside of it before they walk in, door chiming.  An older woman is talking to someone in a green hood, the woman with chubby cheeks and blue eyes pushing a little bag of mini pies into the hooded person’s bruised hands. 

“Here you go, Jess, on the house as always.” 

“Thanks,” the hooded girl responds, an awkward gruff to the words before she leaves. When Dahlia catches a sight of her, Jess has a face of mottled bruises and cuts. 

“Anything I do for you, Deputies?” 

“We were hoping you could help us out, Lorna,” Pratt starts. 

And just like Casey and Mary May; Lorna’s all bright smiles and kind eyes, happy to help. Even pushing bags of the free small handmade pies into the deputy’s hands before they go. There is something undeniably heartwarming at everyone’s willingness to help. She crams one of the little pasties into her mouth, sugary berries on her tongue as they get back into the cruiser. 

The shift passes by with ticketing traffic violations and stopping in to rope people into helping out. Hudson and Brennan sending texts letting Dahlia know that Grace has agreed to help and Adelaide will too if only so her boytoy Xander can have a smoothie stand during the festival. Riding through the valley, Dahlia sees a billboard advertising gun lubricant, Grace Armstrong’s face plastered on it, though her eyes on the board seem off. Dahlia too far away to put her finger on it, but it looks like that part of the advert has been damaged.  An award-winning sniper and veteran; well loved in the community. Dahlia only saw a glimpse of her at the barbecue, talking with Hudson, but it seems clear just how important she is to the county. 

Within an hour of their shift ending, Doug and Debbie have them called out to the orchard. Their smiles are bright, the middle-aged couple holding each when the deputies pull in. Pratt’s still trying to pretend to have a grumpy face but there’s still a slight smile pulling at his lips as they get out of the cruiser. 

Arms are wrapping around Dahlia in a second, Debbie pulling her into a tight hug, the young deputy tenses hands hovering awkwardly at the woman’s sides. 

“Thank you, so much,” Debbie says, pulling away but her hands still on Dahlia’s shoulders, “we’ve been getting calls all day, everyone wants to help us do this, thank you so much.” 

“Uh, yeah, it’s no problem…just happy to help,” Dahlia flusters under the attention, proud of what she’s done, but squirming under the weight of gratitude. 

“Well, we certainly appreciate it,” Doug tells her with a smile, “but we called you out ‘cause we got some flyers made, figure’d it help advertise, though word of mouth already seems to be doing us a lot of good.” 

“We could definitely hand them out, see if some places are willing to hang them up too.” 

“And now we’re the flyer brigade,” Pratt grumbles under his breath and Dahlia jabs her elbow into his side. 

“I’ve already been coming up with everything I wanna sell at the festival, but if you two have some free time Sunday, I could use some taste testers too,” Debbie offers, with a smile, “least I can do is feed you for all your help.” 

“Yeah, I can do that,” Dahlia agrees readily. 

“I…could probably swing by.” Pratt tries so hard to sound above it all, but free apple pie can apparently draw even him in. 

“Can’t wait to see you both then!” 

They wave goodbye to the couple, Dahlia packing the flyers with her into the cruiser car. The ending hours of their shift and the day is spent finding places to hang them up. Mary May posting them in The Spread Eagle, hanging in the window of the garage and general store, Whitehorse even letting it be posted up in the window of the department.  Dahlia’s ride home that night takes longer as she stops at places to ask if they’d hang up the advertisement; after getting Lorna’s Truck Stop and Audrey’s Diner to put them up. Dahlia stops at the Hollyhock Saloon, bartender agreeing to hang it up in the small bar, the rookie deputy giving a quick hello to Brennan and some of the other officers gathered at his table. The 8-bit Pizza bar hangs them up without any question, happy to help, and Dahlia manages to convince Darcy to hang it up in the registration building of the trailer park before she heads in for the night. Dahlia crashes easily that night, sleep finding her as soon as she hits the couch.  

The next day Stray is hit with déjà vu as they’re called out to deal with Eden’s Gate blocking another road. She’s still not sure why this is apparently a thing they do. And to her misfortune it’s not Waylon or members of the church she likes waiting behind the cement block when they pull up this time; but Theodore and Lonny. Because of course. 

“Deputies,” Lonny forces a smile, “to what do we owe the pleasure?” 

“Well, you’re breaking the law, so there’s that,” Pratt says with a roll of his eyes. 

“Yeah, heard you two gave some of our members a hard time about blocking off a road,” Theodore comments, arms crossed over his chest. 

“I’ll refer you back to the fact it’s against the law,” Dahlia grumbles, “why on earth are you blocking the road anyway?”

“Got some property nearby that needs some work.” 

“The church own a lot a property?” Dahlia raises an eyebrow, that was Waylon’s reasoning too. 

“Soon to be even more when John secures the orchard for us,” Lonny has too wide of a grin as he looks Dahlia over, “though rumor has it some little cop is trying to get in the way.” 

“Irrelevant, you’re breaking the law. Just scram and there won’t be any issues.”

“Look, h-“ 

“We’ll be going then, deputy,” Theodore puts a hand on Lonny’s back, reigning him in. Though the way Lonny sneers tells Dahlia that their conflict is only resolved for the moment. 

Regardless, Pratt and her watch as the men yet again pack away the blocks and clear the road out. Dahlia still can’t quite figure out why on earth they’d need to or would want to block the roads. Between that and the strange person she saw in the flowers, bearing the churches symbol, things just seem to get weirder and weirder. She considers for a moment asking the church members there about the person with the shaved head, but she has a feeling asking more questions will just put her higher up on Lonny and Theodore’s shit-lists. 

“Still don’t get why they keep blocking the roads,” Dahlia comments when they get back in the patrol car. 

“They’re assholes, what more reason they need.” Pratt shrugs before starting the cruiser engine and Dahlia just doesn’t feel like it’s that simple. 

“Well, if they do it again, we don’t really have a choice but to arrest ‘em do we?” 

“Can’t let them get away with shit forever; three strikes seem fair.” 

Questions still run through her mind; but there’s no way of getting answers at the moment, left to bury her curiosity as they leave back down the winding roads. Hours pass and bright blues shift to pastel pinks as the sun sets upon Hope County. 

That evening at The Spread Eagle, she’s listening to Pratt and Hudson argue about something; she can’t even be sure what but she’s just amused to not be at the butt of the humor tonight. She’s cramming fries into her mouth when she feels eyes on her. 

“That’d be her right there,” Mary May says, pointed out at Dahlia as she talks to a man the young officer has only seen in passing. Shaggy dark hair under a cap and beard on his face, though the last time she saw him he’d been wearing glasses. She thinks it’s Nick, only having seen a glance of him at his own barbecue. 

“If I’m in some sort of trouble, I’d like fair warning, Mary May.” Dahlia comments, unsure why anyone would be trying to find her in a crowd. The blonde’s smile eases her nerves as she comes across the bar, the man walking Dahlia’s way. 

“No trouble, Deputy, Nick here was just wanting to know which one of you started the apple festival. He’s going fly a banner ad around for Debbie and Doug.” 

“Oh, that’s awesome.” 

“I just wanted to find out who was helping them out, Nick Rye,” he introduces himself, sticking his hand out for her to shake. 

“Pleasure to meet you.” 

“I’ve been crop dusting for Doug and Debbie for years, last thing anyone needs is for John to get his hands on that place.”

“That seems to be most people’s sentiment.” 

“Told ya just about everyone is sick of his shit,” Mary May says with a shake of her head, “it’s about time he doesn’t get what he wants.” 

“That son of a bitch has been hounding me and Kim for months now, trying to buy our place.”  Nick’s jaw clenches, irritation coming off him in waves. 

“I know Kim damn near broke his nose for it.” 

“Wait what?” Dahlia raises an eyebrow; how often does John harass people? 

“Listen to this,” Nick gesture emphatically, now sitting down next to Dahlia, “asshole shows up to the house while I’m gone, trying to bully Kim into selling the damn place, while she’s pregnant. What kind of sick fuck shows up at a man’s house while he’s gone and tries to strongarm his wife into signing the place over. Fuckers lucky I wasn’t home.” 

“You not being home was kind of the point of when he showed up.,” Mary May reminds him, “besides, no offense, but even ready to pop I think I trust Kim’s right hook protected her more than yours ever could.” 

“Now, that’s just mean,” Nick says with a slight pout to his face, reminding Dahlia of a tall puppy dog. 

“It’s okay Nick, anything you lack in strength you make up for in…” Mary May seems to have to search for the next word, normally brains would be the natural contrast, “well, you just keep being you.” 

“Never really thought about being anyone else; well except maybe an eagle, but I don’t think that counts.”  

“No, it doesn’t really count, Nick,” Mary May says with a slight laugh.

Dahlia stifles her own laugh raising an eyebrow at the ridiculous turn of the conversation. Nick is sweet and willing to help out with the festival, so she won’t spend too much time questioning his desire to be an eagle. It’s not long before Pratt and Hudson fall into conversation with the pilot; allowing Dahlia to comfortably settle into the background as the night winds down.

It’s not even the noon the following day before things around Hope County manage to pick up pace.  Sirens and lights flashing as Pratt rushes them up north towards the mountain; there’s a palpable tension. Crisis situations are rare; most days filled with handing out traffic tickets and dealing with roadblocks. Hell, the county is boring enough that the sheriff would allow them to actively work on a festival during shift hours. So, a call requesting EMS, all deputies and units, and the F.A.N.G Center; is definitely out of the normal. 

They see the gathering of people as they pull up, Whitehorse is talking with workers in F.A.N.G Center shirts, Hudson and other officers gathered around and EMS workers carrying someone into the back of an ambulance. 

“Pratt, Rookie; over here now!” The sheriff calls out for them and they rush over. 

“What’s going on?” Pratt is the one to ask. 

“Wolf, possibly rabid, but we don’t know. It attacked a pair of hikers. We tried to tranq it but nothing is bringing it down, we gotta find it and put it down before it hurts anyone else.” The F.A.N.G Center employee explains to them. 

“No way to get around killing it?” Dahlia asks, she understands it can’t always be avoided, but she would prefer not to.  

“We hit that damn thing with enough tranq to take down an elephant and it still tried to maul us before running off; tried to get it with a snare pole and it broke it. We can’t rehabilitate an animal we can’t get near and if we let it go; it’ll hurt someone else.” 

“You heard the man, alright,” Whitehorse’s voice booms as he starts addressing everyone, commanding attention “we got a wolf to find, grown wolf, white fur and aggressive. I want everyone to stay in groups; we have tranquilizers, snare poles, and what’s used to put ‘em down. We want to try to do it as humanely as possible but protect yourselves and keep an ear to your radio. We need to make sure the trails are safe and can’t let anyone else get bit; move out!”

The deputies are given tranquilizer guns, the snare poles, and syringes filled with pentobarbital. Though, given what they’ve been told, she’s not completely sure how effective any of it will be. If the wolf has enough tranquilizers to take down an elephant in it already and is still moving; as well as having previously broken one of the snare poles, then how on earth is any of this suppose to work? 

But she doesn’t voice these concerns as she follows after Pratt, Hudson, and another police officer tagging along so they can maintain a decent sized group per Whitehorse’s instructions. 

The mountains are beautiful, she thought that when she’s gone hiking before, but even during this tense situation she finds herself amazed by how gorgeous it is. Bright green summer grass and towering trees as far as the eye can see. Mountains that reach up to kiss the bright blue sky. 

Dahlia stays at the back of the group, letting Pratt and Hudson lead as she keeps her ears and eyes peeled for anything suspicious. The sneer pole is across her shoulders, her wrists on top and holding it there as she walks. She half listens to Pratt and Hudson talk; something about people making up werewolf rumors because the wolves have been acting wilder and wilder lately. She’s reminded of her meal at the Grill Steak, that man who warned a group of people about wolves. He claimed they were trained by Eden’s Gate; but those still just sound like conspiracy theories. 

Tension crawls up Stray’s spine, skin forming goosebumps at the sensation of being watched, then the sound of snapping branches coming from forests that surround the trail she walks along. She moves without thinking, leaving the trail and her group behind, following where she heard the noise. 

Branches and brush scratch at her arms as she ventures deeper into the wooded area; then she sees his back. Jacob Seed, why does there always seem to be a member of their family just around the corner when trouble happens? 

“Something you need,” he says, not bothering to turn and face her, examining his red rifle. 

“You shouldn’t be out here.” 

“I shouldn’t be,” he spares her a glance over his shoulder, blue eyes rife with condescension, “last time I checked it’s a free country, ain’t it?” 

“That’s not what I mean. There’s a wolf running around; possibly rabid. It’s not safe for you to be out here alone.” 

And he laughs; dry and deep, the sound making her raise her eyebrows. Why is the idea of being mauled by a rabid wolf so funny to him?

“You worrying about me?” He asks, finally turning to face her in full, shifting the bright red gun to the holster on his back. 

“I mean, yes? My job is keeping the public safe and you are a member of the public.” 

“Pfff, you’re just a pup,” he says walking past her, “be better off watching out for yourself.” 

His hand is large and rough as it ruffles her hair while he walks by; his palm and fingers nearly encompassing the entire top of her head. His hand is probably bigger than her face she realizes, heat flushing up her face though she’s not sure of why. He’s so condescending and patronizing and fucking giant; the last point isn’t entirely relevant but it’s still true. 

“I’m a deputy, don’t patronize me.” She says, reaching up to grab his hand from her head, capturing it in her own. His rough scarred hand is nearly double the size of her own; warm calloused skin against her own. 

“You having fun there?” He asks, when she doesn’t let go of his hand right away, instead pressing her small hand back against his palm, comparing the immense size difference. He really could probably wrap one hand around her entire head. 

“Your hands are so big, wow.” 

“’Preciate it pup.”  

And he laughs again, still dry and brief in it’s sound, pulling his giant hand from her smaller one before he leaves. She glares at his back; corded muscle shifting beneath his black tee shirt. Despite her pout, she can understand why he’d see her unable to defend herself in comparison to him. She’s been confident in her physical abilities for a while; but she imagines a man like Jacob isn’t scared of anything. 

“Rook, where the hell are you?” Pratt’s voice crackles over her radio as Jacob walks off. 

“There was a hunter out here, I was warning him about the wolf,” Dahlia explains herself, she wasn’t suppose to leave the group per Whitehorse’s orders, but no one could blame her for warning a civilian. There’s something odd about thinking of Jacob as just a hunter or civilian; though she’s not quite sure why. 

“We’re in the woods near the Visitor’s Center, get over here, you pain in the ass.” 

The radio crackles out and Dahlia gets on her way; she knows the Visitor’s Center is south of where she is. Though she has no sense of direction, so that has little bearing on her ability to find it. She hikes down, feeling that’s the closest approximation to south that she can get, sticking a little closer to the woods than the paths. She prefers the shade and atmosphere of being surrounded by the trees. 

But the further she travels down, the sparser the trees grow, exposing Dahlia to the sun. Green grass and branches crushing underfoot as she stumbles down the terrain. She can just imagine Pratt and Hudson’s frustration, but warning someone about a rabid wolf is certainly understandable.

A drawn-out howl echoes through the woods, making the deputy freeze. Sunlight is warm on her face and stinging at her eyes as she turns towards the sound. A spire of craggy rocks coming off the mountain; the silhouette of a wolf howling with the sun behind it. She uses her hand to shield from the sunlight, straining to see more detail. Seven distinct darts stick from the wolves back; tranquilizers. 

Dahlia quickly tugs her uniform shirt off from over her black tank top, wrapping the fabric around her forearm. Not quite the cushioned guard they use for training police dogs, but it will provide some barrier between it’s bite and her skin. Worse case scenario, she’ll be taking rabies shots once everything is done. She holds the syringe of pentobarbital in one hand, she has her firearm too if that’s unable to bring the wolf down, but she prefers to let it go peacefully if she can. 

She stays crouched down as she approaches the peaked edge of the mountain, craggy rock building up to a spire, levels to climb up to reach the clearing where the wolf sits. Dahlia stays low as she climbs, moving as quietly as she can, using a blue grappling hook handle to help lift herself up to the final level. There’s a gap in the clearing; a log showing a passage between craggy rock to craggy rock; boulders surrounded by grass. She can see the wolf, but it’s yet to noticed her, another howl echoing out as it cries out to the sky. 

It’s beautiful and she’s all at once ashamed that it has to be put down. Matted white fur with a black nose and lips; it’s eyes are luminously silver, like moonlight. Red is mottled across it’s face, red frothing around it’s mouth, as well as a brighter crimson stroked across it’s brow and down it’s nose. Across it’s furred shoulder blade and spine are seven different tranquilizer darts that were shot at it, how has it not passed out? It doesn’t see her not right away, then it’s nostrils twitch and it’s lips pull back to snarl, red tinged drool dripping down it’s maw. Then it’s gaze is on her, growling and baring it’s teeth. 

And then it pounces.  

She puts up her cloth wrapped forearm, the force of it’s body hitting hers knocks her onto her back. It’s teeth snap into the fabric, as it tries to chew through her arm, the edges of fangs just grazing the flesh beneath. One large paw presses against her wrist, attempting to pin her limb down so it can rip the meat off her bones. 

Dahlia pulls back the plunger on the syringe before slamming the needle into the thick of the wolves neck, sinking through fur and flesh before she pushes the chemical through. The wolf snarls through it’s bite on it, then she watches that shine in it’s silver eyes die. It’s mouth goes slack and then it’s body falls limp on top of her. 

The deputy pushes the wolves dead weight off of her, getting up onto her feet, she touches the torn shirt wrapped around her forearm. Drool and blood has stained the green, small damage done to her skin under. It stings but nothing she can’t deal with; the idea of getting rabies shots worries her more. She crouches over the wolf and looks at it’s face, the red around it’s mouth is darker, rusted and clearly blood. But the brighter more purposeful crimson looks like paint. 

She remembers the warnings she overheard in the Grill Steak before; someone warning conservationists about wolves owned by Eden’s Gate. Though, he called them a cult. It’s not for sure or a real connection; conspiracy theories and paint. But, who could have gotten close enough to paint the wolf’s face? Who would want to? 

“Rookie,” Pratt’s voice crackles over her radio. 

“Pratt…” 

“Rook, if you’re not here in five minutes, I’m gonna kick your ass,” Hudson threatens in the background. 

“Please, she’d probably like that.” 

Dahlia’s face flushes at Pratt’s teasing, she can’t say he’s completely wrong, but that’s not the point.  She hefts the wolf’s corpse up onto her shoulder, carrying it’s heavy weight, the head of the furry creature beside her head. It’s fur is soft and thick despite the matted nature. She’s not big on hunting culture, but the wolf would make a nice rug. 

“I got the wolf,” she says into her radio, holding it in one hand while the other keeps the carcass steady on her shoulder as she carefully makes her way down the craggy rocks. 

“What?” 

“I got the wolf,” she repeats to Pratt’s flat question. 

“What? Wh-where the fuck are you?.” 

“I’m on a big ass like spirally mountain thing.” 

“That tells us literally nothing,” Hudson informs her.

“Uhhhh,” Dahlia looks over the edge, of the elevated mountainside, “I think I see a helipad nearby?” 

“Fuck, I know where you are, stay put. Okay, do not approach the wolf.” 

“Uhhh, I think you misunderstood me.” 

“What do you mean?” Pratt asks and she can just imagine his raised eyebrow. 

“I mean, I got the wolf, I already put it down. We can call off the search, but, uh, I think we have bigger issues.” 

“Did you get hurt again?” 

“Hey,” she objects to his tone, “you make it sound like I’m always getting hurt.” 

“You didn’t answer me.”

“No, I did not get…seriously hurt.” 

“Oh lord,” Hudson grumbles in the background. 

“Look, that’s not the issue, alright. Just get up here and let Whitehorse know what’s going on, okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Dahlia finds a steady rock in the clearing to pull herself up onto as she waits, since apparently Hudson and Pratt have figured out where she is. She tries to look for anything else on the wolf that could indicate it being owned; but nothing. Dahlia does find herself wondering why it’s fur is white? Aren’t white wolves usually those in snowy climates, for camouflage? 

She doubts she’ll receive any answers, so she tries to quiet her mind. The sun warms her skin where she sits on the rock, white wolf still up on her shoulder, ripped uniform shirt still wrapped around her forearm. It all forms an odd picture, she’s certain. 

It’s less than an hour or so before she hears the rustle of footsteps; Hudson and Pratt along with the other officer walking up the way to her. Pratt just stops a second and shakes his head, Hudson is rolling her eyes. 

“Hello,” Dahlia says with a soft wave. 

“What the actual fuck, Rook?” 

And she cracks up; unable to help but laugh at the absolute absurdity of the situation and Hudson’s flat response. She may have already hit the highlight of her career here. 

“Stop laughing; it’s not funny, you could have gotten seriously hurt!” Pratt tries to scold her but he’s laughing through his words, the oddity of it all must be hitting him as well. Dahlia presses a hand to mouth to try and stifle her laughter as Hudson gets her radio out. 

The senior deputy radios Whitehorse, letting him know they’ve gotten the wolf. He tells them where to meet him with the body, so the veterinarian and F.A.N.G Center workers can examine it. Dahlia will be reliant on actually listening and following obediently behind the older deputies.

“C’mon, Rookie, let go.”

“Alright.” Dahlia hops down from her rock and starts to follow after them down the mountain. 

“You need help packing that?” Pratt offers, probably because the wolf is nearly the length of her entire body. 

“Nah.” 

“You just feel cool packing the wolf on your back, don’t you?” Hudson is the one to call her out, raising her eyebrow with a soft smirk on her lips, looking entirely too pretty. 

“Uhhh….” 

“God, you’re a dork.” 

“I can’t really argue with that,” Dahlia admits with a red face and shrug of her shoulders, happy to see Pratt and Hudson smiling at her dorkiness. 

“What happened with the hunter you were warning?” Pratt asks after a beat of silence as they keep walking, helping her over a craggy step with a hand on her hip to keep her steady as the weight of the wolf limits her movements.  

“Uh, asshole just patronized me and left. I don’t know why I still talk to him, he’s always a dick,” she says, rolling her eyes when she thinks about Jacob calling her a pup. He likes to comment on her being a puppy a lot. 

“Someone you knew?” Hudson asks, offering a hand to help Dahlia get over a large branch in the way of the path. The ease at which the two older deputies silently help her, makes a soft smile pull at Dahlia’s lips. Silently grateful for them as she answers their questions. 

“Jacob Seed.” 

“Seriously?’ 

“What?” 

“You don’t find it a little fuckin’ weird how the Seeds are always around you?” 

“I mean, they’re not around me anymore than anyone else.” 

“They really fucking are; you went to the barbecue, John jumped at the chance to rope you into that.” 

“Churches like new blood, it’s n-“ 

“You’ve apparently talked to Jacob more than once; I didn’t even know he could talk,” Hudson says rolling her eyes, “all he ever does at anyone outside the church is glare.” 

“She’s talked to Faith a lot too, apparently.” 

“I still don’t even know where she fucking came from.” 

“I’m still not fully convinced she isn’t a ghost,” Pratt tells Hudson. 

“She’s not a ghost,” Dahlia says with a roll of her eyes. 

“And you would know, because they cling to you like leeches, right?” 

“Shut up.” 

“You know what I think it is,” Hudson says after a moment, “you put up with Joseph’s creepy ass speeches and they realized you’d put up with anything.” 

“He’s not….that…creepy…” Dahlia says with zero conviction, because, well. He’s definitely off, but despite all the weird little red flags, he did help her and Cassie. So, he can’t be all bad. Even if his brother is taking people’s shit…and well…she still doesn’t know what the hell was up with the shaved head person. 

“You can’t even say that with a straight face.” 

“Look, we’ve had run ins with him before, he’s the weirdest creepiest person in this whole damn county and that is saying something,” Hudson shudders, “I’d take Zip lecturing me on being a government shill for nine hours over Joseph even looking at me for even a second.” 

“His stare is weirdly intense…” 

“All of them are weird; John’s skeevy, Jacob looks like he skins people alive in his spare time…Faith’s kinda cute, but at what cost,” Pratt tells her and eh, Faith’s not really her type. The Church Mouse is pretty, but a bit too delicate for the young deputy to really get those weird stomach feelings she gets around women like Hudson or Mary May. 

“Really, I didn’t think you liked women who are taller than you?” Hudson asks. 

“Faith is like barely taller than me,” Dahlia says with a snort, watching the pure look of offense on Pratt’s face, how could she be taller than Pratt? 

“How short do you think I am, Joey?’ 

“What?” Hudson raises an eyebrow, confused by their confusion, “ heard she was like six foot something with black hair.” 

“She’s like this tall,” Pratt puts his hand maybe two inches above Dahlia’s head, “and blonde.” 

“Kinda blonde,” Dahlia corrects, thinking of the youngest Seed siblings dirty blonde hair that fades to a slightly light color at the ends. It toes the line between brown and blonde fairly well. 

“Whatever.” 

“Someone told me she was taller than John, I know they did, am I losing my mind?” Hudson tries to think for a moment; gears visibly turning behind her green eyes. 

“Did you ever really have it?” Pratt taunts her. 

“Keep it up, asshole, see what fuckin’ happens.” 

The trio makes it down to where the sheriff asked, a parking place within the northern area of the county with little gas pumps but not much else. The F.A.N.G Center employees and the veterinarian with a stethoscope around his neck waiting for them as they make their way over. A worker with the center helps get the stiffening wolf off of Dahlia’s back, putting it into the back of a van so they can take it to be examined. 

“Good work, Deputies,” Whitehorse congratulates them and Dahlia grins at the praise. 

“To be completely fair,” Hudson interjects, “it was Rook who was able to get him.” 

“Hey, we helped…move the body…” Pratt jokes, in their own ways they’re both ensuring Dahlia gets her due credit and she can’t help but smile. 

“Well, outstanding work, Rookie.” 

“Thanks, but uh, I’m kind worried about something.” 

“What’s that?’ The sheriff asks, the attention of him, the veterinarian, and center workers all falling on Dahlia. 

“The wolf has paint on it’s face, like a cross or something…which kinda makes me think someone owned it or…something?’ 

“Yeah, that’s definitely not all blood.” A worker looking over the wolf’s face in the van confirms. 

“There’s nothing else on it, but we definitely will have to keep that in mind.” 

“But, uh, what happens from here?” Dahlia asks. 

“I’ll test to see if it’s rabid or if anything else might be the cause for the aggression,” the veterinarian, his name tag she finally catches says Dr. Charles Lindsay, “I’ll let the hospital know and if needed, the hiker will get treated for rabies.” 

“Ah, uhh, is there any possible way you could let us know at the same time…well let me know…?” 

“Why…?” 

“I may have been slightly bit.” 

“Slightly?” Pratt is the one to yell out, incredulous at Dahlia’s description of her injury. 

“Just a little bit,” She brings two fingers close together in front of her for added effect. 

“Jesus fuck, can you just not get hurt for like a week?” 

“No, clearly not.” 

“Pratt, take her out to the clinic,” Whitehorse says with a heavy sigh and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“I don’t need a doctor.” 

“Yes, you do. Even if the bite ain’t too bad, you never know if it’s infected. Not only could the wolf be carrying something, but it had someone else’s blood in it’s mouth. This isn’t optional, Rookie, you’re going to the clinic and that’s an order.” 

Dahlia can’t and won’t argue with the sheriff on that. Instead shrinking slightly at the realization that her own disregard for her own safety has gotten her scolded despite her accomplishment. She doesn’t think about risks to herself; she needed the wolf put down to save others and if the worst case scenario is her own well-being being sacrificed, that’s worth it to help others, isn’t it?

“C’mon, Wolf-Bait lets get going,” Pratt says, giving her a light smack on the shoulder to follow him. 

“I’m coming, asshole.” 

She follows behind Pratt, back to the cruiser where they parked at the beginning of this day. The sun has long since set, the moon now bright and high in the sky as she climbs into the passenger side seat. Unable to stop herself from pouting slightly that she’s being forced to go to the clinic again. Even if she understands why. 

“Hey,” Pratt gets her attention as he starts up the cruiser engine, “if it makes you feel any better. I’ll be happy to put you out of your misery if it turns out to be a werewolf.” 

“Fuck you!” She yells out through a laugh; his dumb joke bringing a smile back to her face as they go off to the clinic. 

She’s at the clinic late that night, her injury doesn’t need stitches just some bandaging, some bloodwork and tests done to account for anything that could be wrong. Then she’s sent home with antibiotics; the entire time Pratt making jokes about werewolves and silver bullets like a nerd.  All that’s left is crashing for the night and eventually hearing if she has rabies. 

Dahlia sleeps easily that night; thanks to her adrenaline crashing down. She sleeps in the night morning, Saturday never being such a blissful treat for her as she manages to not wake up until around noon. 

The young deputy takes her time when she gets up, eating cereal and grabbing a shower. Faith mentioned her being able to see Cassie at the convent this weekend spending a day together, so that’s her plan on top of doing the rounds on roping folks into the Apple Festival. 

The Convent isn’t far from the trailer park, two buildings seated before the edge of a cliff with craggy staggered mountain range covered in trees beside it.  So many mountains and cliffs within the county. The larger of the buildings has dark roofing, a smaller white church with white latticing canopies between them. Like the material used to construct a gazebo and fields upon fields of the white moonflowers. 

Before Dahlia can step too far onto the property, a woman with long baby blonde hair with flower tattoos spiraling up her arms and the sin of GREED across her chest runs up to stop her. 

“Hello, is there something I can help you with?” 

“Yeah, I was here to see Cassie.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, but our sister Cassandra is busy today.” 

“Sister?” Dahlia asks, blood running cold for a moment. She can’t seriously mean…Cassie wasn’t interested in joining, she just needed shelter.

“Well yes, she’s opened her heart to the Father, a child of Eden’s Gate now.” 

“Interesting…” Dahlia clenches her jaw, “Faith said that I could come see her today.” 

“Well, I’m afraid that’s not possible, she’s been busy with finding salvation. She’s with herald John, giving her confession, she can’t possibly be bothered right now.” 

“I-”

“Deputy~!” Faith’s sing song voice rings out and Dahlia can’t help but still feel angry, they were supposed to help Cassie, not convert her. The youngest Seed sibling rushes over, nearly floating with the ethereal energy only she can manage. Her white floral dress of the day has a halter neckline and flowers are woven into her braided hair. 

“Faith…” 

“I’m so sorry; I heard, I know you were excited to spend time with me and Cassie today, but I’m afraid things just became too busy with her deciding to join us here.” 

“Yeah…what the fuck?” 

“Excuse me?” Faith says, her pretty little smile fading for a moment. 

“Cassie needed shelter, not Jesus, so I reiterate…what the fuck?” Dahlia gestures wildly, anger tinging her words. Her blood pressure rising and heat crawling up under her skin like pins and needles. 

“Cassie is an adult, she made a choice to join us. Surely, you can’t deny her that freedom, deputy?” Faith’s face pulls into a pout, making Dahlia feel unreasonable all at once, but Cassie was never interested in the religion aspect. 

“Yes, she’s an adult, but she was vulnerable, and I don’t think leaping into a religion when you’re in a shitty place is the best move. I-I wanna talk to her myself.” 

“Well, I’m afraid that can’t happen, not today. But, maybe next weekend or you could write a letter of course.” 

“She still hasn’t responded to my last letter…” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Faith puts a hand on Dahlia’s shoulder, meant to be comforting but the deputy flinches away, “as I said, it’s been impossibly busy, she’s been studying our beliefs and methods of joining. It’s a long process at times, very time consuming, but I assure you…Cassie opening her heart to the Father doesn’t mean it’s been closed to you.” 

“Yeah, sure, just too busy.” 

“Well, you’ve certainly been busy too, haven’t you?” She tilts her head delicately to the side, still smiling. 

“I have?” Dahlia raises an eyebrow. 

“Mmm hmm, John’s already learned of you helping put together an apple festival.” 

“Oh, yeah, Debbie and Doug wanna save that place so why not, I figure.” 

“Yes, we’ve been hearing all about it, John’s not exactly thrilled.” 

“Nothing personal to it…” 

“I figured, I’m not upset, I promise,” Faith offers a soft smile, “the orchard will end up in the rightful hands no matter what. John just worries a lot about getting land for our church, after all we’re growing by the day and need space for our people.” 

“And Debbie and Doug worry a lot about keeping their livelihood, ya know?” 

“Like, I said, I have no ill will over it, I’m just interested to see you’re so full of surprises.” 

“I am?” 

“Mmm hmm,” she giggles, but offers no more information, like she knows a secret that Dahlia doesn’t. But before Dahlia can ask another question, a sight among the convent makes her breath catch in her throat. 

Shaved head men and women; tending to fields of those flowers, masks across their face. So, they’re definitely with Eden’s Gate as if she really had to question. They work silently, tending to the fields of moonflowers in their white sweaters. 

“Who are they?” Dahlia asks, giving Faith a pointed look. The girl’s eyes move back and forth from the deputy to the workers. 

“Oh, those are our angels,” she answers, grinning, “they’re high ranking members of our church, so devoted to The Father they’ve taken vows of silence and dedicate their lives to helping The Project. Amazing, aren’t they?” 

“Vows of silence, huh?” Dahlia says, more to herself than Faith. Then why did they mumble lyrics and scream out…why would they attack Dahlia? Is Faith lying to her, she’s got to be, right?

“You know, deputy, if you’re so interested in The Project, The Father would still happily let you join our family.” 

“Hmmm, I’m sure, didn’t realize there was a huge process to it though…” Dahlia comments, hoping Faith will elaborate, what the hell kind of hoops did Cassie jump through? Confession, is all she really knows. 

“Well, “ Faith grabs both of Dahlia’s hands in her own, smiling, “we ask for our new family members to prove they see the truth of our faith, to prove their dedication, rid themselves of their sins and make sacrifices in order to truly cut their ties with sin.” 

“That’s-“ 

“Faith, there’s a call from the conservatory!” Someone calls out and Dahlia’s words die on her lips; the notion that Faith’s description is vague and generally unhelpful. 

“I’ll be right there, see you later deputy, hopefully we can meet with Cassie next weekend.” Faith waves her goodbye and then leaves. 

Stray straightens her jacket before leaving the convent, a flood of unanswered questions and doubts in her mind. Everyday something new worries her about Eden’s Gate. If Faith’s lying…that’s fucking bullshit. She doesn’t want to imagine that Faith would lie to her face like that. But, why would their oh so special angels, even the name makes her roll her eyes, be screaming and murmuring despite vows of silences? Why would they attack her?

The rest of her Saturday is spent speaking to people about the Apple Festival, roping Chad from the Grill Steak into it. At least, she believes she did, she’s not completely sure of anything he says. His dialect unintelligible, so she just upped her cajun dialect until she barely knew what she was saying either. Its good busy work, getting places to hang up advertisements, though her heart and mind are somewhere else the entire time. She’s thankful that most people are just genuinely invested in helping; because she certainly isn’t getting by on her charisma. 

Her night is spent with trying to distract herself, but thoughts always coming back to the weirdness of Eden’s Gate, to her doubts. Wondering what exactly led to Cassie’s conversion… She’s being silly, she tells herself time and time again, but something just doesn’t feel right lately. Maybe she’s overeating; seeing connections and red flags where none exists. But, the case remains that no tv, manga, music, or drawing can distract her that night. 

There’s still a slight cloud looming over Dahlia when she arrives at the orchard Sunday, ready to taste Debbie’s baked apple goods. The sun is high in sky and the smell of apples lifts her mood slightly; but she finds herself still distracted as she parks her bike. 

“Deputy!” Debbie greets her and Dahlia gives the warmest smile she can muster. The older woman’s smile helping lift some of that cloud. 

“Hey.” 

“Staci’s already here, c’mon, we’ll sit in the market stall,” Debbie gushes bring Dahlia over to the picnic tables that are under the covering; where they first talked about the festival. 

Pratt is already there; the smell of baked sugar and apples hits Dahlia’s nose before she even sees the array of food Debbie’s put out. Apple pie, apple dumplings, apple scones, and she’s sure that’s just the beginning. 

“Hey dumbass,” Pratt greets her around a mouthful of apple pie as she sits down next to him. 

“You couldn’t wait like five minutes?” 

“Nope.” 

“Ass.” 

The deputy’s feedback is predominantly noises of happiness; neither really food critics but happy to be shoving it in their mouths. The gloomy cloud is starting to lift by the time they’ve finished off a pie; cinnamon, sugar, and apples warm on her tongue. Apple dumplings settle warm in her stomach and she forgets why she was ever upset. The scones are munched down next; cream sticking to her fingers and lips as she eats. 

“God you’re a mess,” Pratt taunts and she sputters a laugh when she turns to face him. 

“You have food in your beard, asshole.” 

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath and starts wiping at his face. 

The stuff their faces for a long while longer; strudel, apple cake, apple cobbler, candy apples, and fritters. Pratt leans back from the table, pressing a hand to his face after a while. 

“You alright?” Dahlia asks, raising her eyebrow. 

“Debbie is gonna have to roll me out of here at this rate; are you not fuckin’ full yet?” 

“…No…” She pauses, before shoving more cobbler and whip cream in her mouth. Debbie and Dough are off rushing to get more goodies. 

“Jesus fuck, Rook.” 

“You’re just a baby.” 

“Shut up,” he leans back away from the table and runs a hand back into his hair, “hey, Rook?” 

“Hmm?”

“You ever gonna shoot your shot with Joey?” 

“What?!” She chokes on her food, just barely stopping it from flying out of her mouth, where the actual fuck did that come from? 

“Your little crush on her, you ever gonna do something about it?” 

“Like what?” 

“Ask her out, you know, like people do.” 

“Yeah…why the fuck would I do that?” She cannot grasp his logic here. 

“I don’t know how to explain to you that when people have crushes; they ask the person out.” 

“I don’t know how to explain to you that that would be really fucking stupid.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I already know the answer, there’s no way she’d say yes, and frankly if she did I’d be concerned.”

“Concerned?” 

“Yeah, who in their right fuckin’ mind would say yes to me?!” 

“So, you wanna act weird around her forever and never deal with it?” 

“That was the plan.” 

“I’m just saying the sooner you rip the band-aid off, the quicker you can act like a normal person around her.” 

Dahlia sighs, she doesn’t want to act like a freak around Hudson for the rest of her life or for her little crush or whatever to get the way of life. Pratt knows more about this crap than her, because everyone does. So, if he’s saying this would help, maybe it would? But, her brain still is struggling. 

“But I already know she’s gonna say no, you know she’s gonna say no, literally anyone with a functioning braincell knows she’d say no. So, why would hearing her say no make a difference?” 

“Its like closure and shit; I think it’d help.” 

“Ugh, just sounds like an excuse to make an idiot out of myself.” 

“Compared to the genius you usually are?” 

“Fuck off.” 

She swallows down a mouthful of strudel before the conversation can continue, but Pratt’s words stick with her. It’s not as if she needed any more on her mind, but she got it anyway. The two continue taste testing for Debbie, though the subject of Hudson never comes up. She’s not sure why Pratt is suddenly so keen on helping her work through her little crush, a friendly gesture, she figures. Maybe her life would be a little easier if she could stop turning into a red-faced mess around the oldest deputy. 

It’s late when they finally finish tasting everything; Dahlia giving friendly goodbyes to Pratt and the couple before she goes back home. Her weekend coming to a close with her falling asleep with a stomach full of baked apples. 

She’s woken up to her phone ringing; instead of her alarm. Dahlia already knows well that despite shift hours, the nature of their work and the higher level of being deputy means that being called out at odd hours is expected. But her blood runs cold when she sees sheriff Whitehorse is the one calling, something is wrong. 

“Sheriff?” She answers, sitting up on the couch. 

“Rook; I already called Pratt and Hudson, I want you all at the clinic now! It’s an emergency!” 

And that’s all she gets before the call ends. She throws on a uniform and runs out the door, jumping on her motorcycle. Mind racing with each passing second. The hurried and frantic tone in Whitehorse’s voice flaring anxiety inside of her. A million possibilities shooting through her mind as she rides towards the clinic; is it about the wolf? Has there been a murder? Is someone she knows hurt? Could it be an officer? 

She’s practically tripping over herself as she climbs off her bike, running into the clinic. The staff is a mess, nurses rushing frantically to attend to someone. Words of transferring, stabilizing, blood transfusion. Something is wrong. Each word swims around her head, but she doesn’t know who they’re talking about. Then she sees Whitehorse, Hudson, and Pratt at the front desk. The three living closer than her. 

“What’s wrong?” Dahlia asks running over; all three’s expressions are tense. Pratt shaking his leg, Hudson digging her nails into her arms until her knuckles turn white, and Whitehorse looking a moment away from collapsing. 

“It’s Pastor Jerome,” Whitehorse tells her, “someone attacked him.” 

“Left for fucking dead,” Hudson interjects, a crack in her voice that Dahlia’s never heard before. 

“They’re trying to stabilize him long enough to transfer him to a hospital in Missoula. We need to make sure it stays secure, no telling if whoever did this won’t try to do something again, and we need to be there to ask questions once he’s out of the woods. I don’t want this slipping through the cracks, Jerome’s a good man and he damn well deserves our best effort.” 

“Got it,” Dahlia nods in agreement to the sheriffs words.

Images of the man in the priest collar coming to mind. She’s seen him in passing, never a conversation between the two. But she saw him speak with Whitehorse; Pratt implied that both him and Hudson went to Jerome’s church as kids. He means something to them all and that’s clear in just how serious it’s being taken; obvious in how shaken up they all seem to be. 

She stands next to Pratt, squeezing his shoulder in an attempt to comfort, wishing she could offer more. He tries to give her a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, too worried about the pastor. 

Why would anyone attack him? His church is modest, nearly dying out from everything she’s been told, it wouldn’t make sense to rob him. Hope County has some less than accepting residents; but the idea of a potential hate crime is a hard pill to swallow…

All Dahlia can do is wait with her coworkers, listening to the frantic yells of nurses struggling to save a man’s life. Heart in her throat, anxiety telling her that any second this will become a murder investigation as she watches the hands on a clock ticking away…

[dakotarrabideaulove]

In The Beginning. Fanfiction Ch. 1 Far Cry 5

Have you ever felt the gush of warm blood on your hands... Under your fingertips... The stain that coats the pale flesh crimson? 

 In Hope County, Many people have... Usually it wasn't at a young age.. Older if anything. This teenager had them beat.. by many years. 

Our story began like any other.. We were born, We live.. We die. Today it's not like that, It's different... Something a bit.. colder, Emptier. In Hope County there had been new people starting to move in because of a new and uprising church that called itself.. Eden's Gate.

Now for many people this church was a cult.. Unlike any other. Torturing... Killing.. Kidnapping people right and left. So what any person protecting it's people would do. The sheriff's office went to confront them.. But they had a shadow of sorts with them.

This female was about 18-20 years old.. Hardly a teenager but still a young adult at that. There was something... strange about her.

 She carried herself more like a shell, An empty carcass lacking and devoid of emotion, Eyes casted down like a dog.

Something was haunting... about those empty, sharp, grey iridescent she called eyes. It was as if they told their own story. The female was 5'3 in height, 150 lbs lucky if soaking wet. 

 She carried a hunting knife strapped to her thigh, Most clothes consisted of black or camo.

Messy chocolate locks brushed back into a tight ponytail and braided. The braid was wrapped up with a rubber band into a bun. Pale, soft lips graced her pale features as did her high cheek bones. This female of course was new and would be overseeing her very first arrest.

Of course along with Deputy Hudson, Sheriff Whitehorse, Federal Agent Burke.. and another Deputy. Though the tension was... thick on this day. It was a colder night than usual.. While the others were chatting on the airplane her mind was.. focused elsewhere.

It wasn't until she heard a female voice snapping at her. "Look alive, Kid." She turned her head slowly staring at Hudson.

 Lacking a response but seeming to pay attention. As they landed she could tell the people who lived here were... Not welcoming in the least.

As much as she could see... Guns. Scruffy looking people with intense fire power. She herself did not carry such things since she wasn't certified... yet. Slowly each person climbed out of the helicopter, As Burke lead the others, She lingered behind being a bit.. slower.

Taking in her surroundings... The buildings... The smell of the burning wood.. The sounds of the dog's barking in the distance.. 

 Something here sent a chill up her spine, Swallowing back bile the female kept trudging on through a set of large metal gates.

The words on the gate etched into her mind.. "Eden's Gate." She didn't believe in god.. Not after...everything she's been through. No god would allow someone like her to a beautiful life. Not that she ever believed... Shaking off the thought to catch up with the others.

They made their way towards a large white church.. It was strange... The paint was peeling.. It seemed run down but there was this.. feeling coming from it. 

 She couldn't place it... The feeling was familiar... She wasn't sure if she liked that or not.

"If we do this.. We do it my way. Calmly.. and Quietly." Sheriff Whitehorse told Burke. He seemed uneasy as did the others. As they exchanged pleasantries her mind was.. elsewhere. As their hands touched the doors you could hear the singing. She flinched... Christian music.

Those songs traumatized her all too well... She felt her hands slowly become clammy... Balling her hands into fists the girl remained... silent. 

 As Burke and Whitehorse slowly opened the doors and walked in, Each person followed... She could barely see past them.

Not that she wanted to.. As they walked further in each follower clenched a gun in their hands, She swallowed harshly as her throat dried up. Each step was all eyes on them and it made her... Uneasy... VERY uneasy..

Joseph kept preaching.. His voice growing louder.. The voices were muddled together until Burke snapped. "Joseph Seed you are under arrest." 

 Joseph's calm demeanor as he spoke and riled his people. "There they are... The locusts in our garden." The yelling only grew louder..

People anxiously rising in anger.. Shouting.. Blocking the way to their leader.. Joseph Seed. She could barely see him being in the back but.. His voice...

 It resonated through her body.. Like ice cold wind blowing through her.. She felt like someone could see inside of her..

The fear... grew. It was suffocating.. Paralyzing even. The Deputy had leaned over giving her a nudge and a glance as if checking in on her.

She shook her head... words lost in transition.. As they argued and soon it calmed down and all was.. quiet.

Joseph soon calmed his people.. Ushering them out the door. "Go... Go. God will not let them take me. I saw when the lamb opened the first seal..." She bit her lip sharply watching Rook step forward, Hesitantly she moved up closer with Rook..

Something in her.. She knew it was dangerous. "Cuff this son of a bitch Rookie." Burke's voice cut through the silence. Rook's hand had barely made it to the cuffs before mine had lashed out.

 My pale hand.. clenched around Rook's wrist.. The gaze turned to me.

Burke's wasn't one of happiness either. The clank of his heavy boots turned and he huffed. "The hell do you think you're doing kid? We came here for a reason.. Rookie. Cuff him." 

 My grip only tightened on Rook, My intense gaze meeting there's and shaking my head.. No.

At that moment.. It was as if time had stopped. Burke stepped forward and before she blinked there was a loud sound....  

The male had raised his hand.. 

and slapped her. 

His sharp voice snapping. "Snap out of it. You're acting like a coward." Her head hung in silence. 

Her grip.. Unyielding as Joseph watched the scene unfold.. His brothers and sister in the back with solemn faces.. 

All except for one.. 

John. 

His face was scrunched up in disgust.. and anger. 

 The small females frame was... shaking, Her eyes casted at the floor.

It was sharp the blow to her face.. It was familiar.. 

The child screaming.. begging... blow after blow.. The fear.. The anger.. the pain.

 It came surging back like it was a fresh wound opened up for fun. The girls frame was shaken as Burke closed the space between the two.

"I don't know why they sent you along with me.. Clearly you aren't cut out for this.." He spat. 

That's all it took.. 

The next few seconds changed what should have been the most terrifying moment in history. Her hand dropped Rook's and slid down to her thigh.

The petite hand curled around the large hunting knife. Her snap unclicked and like that she swung. 

She cut the males neck wide open.. With this Blank... Empty stare that could cut glass. 

 As Burke dropped to his knees cupping his throat, A desperate gaze to each of his comrades.

Soon before dropping onto the floor... As the blood pooled under her boots, The knife tight in her grip... Blood splattered on her face.. The silence in the room was deafening, All that was audible was the anxiety ridden breathing she was doing.. as she was shaking.

There was.. No remorse, No regret... Nothing. 

A chuckle.. but from who? It was thick, heavy chuckle at that. 

She didn't pick her head up. She met nobody's gaze as the Sheriff and Hudson exchanged glances. Each one of them stepping back slowly.

Nobody stepped up to defend Burke. Rook went to reach out towards her and it was like electricity. Once the hand met the flesh she jerked back as if being struck a second time.

 The look was one of.. an animal. An untamed.. Enraged.. Fearful animal. Rook had no words to offer.

Slowly the Sheriff's voice called out to Rook. "Rookie... We need to leave...Now." Urgency in the males voice.. 

She knew why.. 

She just murdered a comrade in cold blood with no remorse. She didn't mean to- Fight or Flight took over.. It was an accident..

Soon the tears that were filling her eyes spilled over down her face. Choked on the swelled lump in her throat as they streaked down her cheeks..

Remorse...

 As her gaze lifted to see the others quickly rushing out the doors... leaving her there... With Joseph Seed and his family

The grip on the knife soon slipped as it clattered to the floor. Each muscle gave out as she dropped to her knees. 

 She could hear the thumping of the boots.. As large pale hands reached down to brush her cheeks... She could not pick her head up she felt.. She had no strength.

The rough hand slid under her chin raising her head.. Those deep.. blue eyes staring right through her made her feel... helpless. 

  "Do not be afraid.. my child. I'm here to help you... To save you from your pain... To relieve you of your burden.."

His voice was silky smooth... All she could do was shake her head.. 

This wasn't real... 

It couldn't be real.. 

 She just brutally murdered a man on their floor and they want to help her..? 

This... has to be a dream... Right?