#first joseph the bald headed idiot now this

[cunninghamchrissie]

why are you as an amber heard defender dating someone w a johnny depp tattoo!!!!!!!

[johnnycranes]

[reupload cuz i decided to post this chapter here as well since i met a lot of new people in the fc5 fandom recently <3]

next chapter of Some Kind of Second Chance is up. special shoutout to all my mutuals who tagged me in WIPs and to the amazing @desertvvitch who motivated me to post this thing!!

Whole thing is up on AO3

Word count: 3,364

Chapter 6: Revelations and Rifles

When Sydney came to, part of her hoped the hit she took to the head also knocked her memory back. But nope, still didn’t know who the voices in her head were.

She opened her eyes and the first thing she saw was a wall decorated with different pictures of the Seed family and of Eden’s Gate. Next thing she noticed was that she was sitting on the floor and her wrists were bound in front of her to a metal pipe, kept in place with a ziplock tie.

She looked down at herself and saw she was still dressed in the shorts and tank top she was in when she left her cabin, the only thing missing was her jacket.

Looking around a bit more, it didn’t appear to be like any of the cabins in the compound. More like the inside of a trailer house. Something glinted on the floor and Sydney realized there were shards of glass littered around the room of what looked like a small trailer. If she could just reach out for a sharp enough piece, she could find a way to cut open the ziplock tie.

Whoever took her clearly didn’t think this all the way through, practically handing her a means to escape.

Oh shit, or was this some kind of creepy Saw thing? Either way she wasn’t going to stick around to find out.

She stretched her leg and started pushing a few shards towards her with her foot. Thankfully her captors were also kind enough to leave her sneakers on.

Sydney was able to drag some shards close to her when she heard a door open. She hid the shards under her legs quickly as the footsteps of whoever arrived got louder.

Two men wearing Eden’s Gate clothes walked into the room, sneering at her as soon as they spotted her. They didn’t look like anyone she knew.

“Good morning, sunshine.” The one with long unruly hair said.

“So sorry if we kept ‘ya waitin.” The bald one said.

Sydney shook her head. “Oh not at all. Just woke up actually. Comfy floor here.”

“The fuck?” Long-hair asked.

“You have any idea why you’re here, girlie?” bald one asked, and Sydney assumed he was trying to sound intimidating.

“Why bother? You’re gonna explain it to me anyway ri-”

The bald one slammed the butt of his rifle onto her knee. She groaned in pain, but made sure not to lift her leg so much as to make sure the glass was still hidden.

Hopefully they leave her alone again so she could escape.

It was safe to assume these two were part of the group of soldiers who didn’t like her. So Sydney’s only other option of getting out was someone in the compound noticing she was missing, unless of course the two idiots who captured her were actually smart enough to cover their tracks.

How long was she out? All she could tell from the light coming in from the window was that it was daytime.

“You have the guts to speak to us like that? After all you did, sinner.” Long-hair snarled the last word at her.

Sydney rolled her eyes. “Like I said, still waiting for you to fucking explain.” As far as she was concerned, they could even be Resistance agents in disguise who waited for the perfect chance to strike.

But then again, why target her and not the Seed family?

“You think yer so clever, fooling even the Father with yer fake amnesia bullshit.” Bald guy said.

Sydney huffed out a dry laugh. “Trust me, I wish it was fake. Maybe then I’ll know why you two assholes are pulling stupid shit like this.”

“Enough!” Long-hair yelled. “How dare you. How dare you think we can just accept you into our family, attend sermons with us, all because you supposedly forgot.”

“I did.” Sydney emphasized. “You can ask the doctor, he-”

“You just don’t forget the people you killed!”

Sydney froze.

She what?

The silence was deafening and that’s when the voices attacked. Screams, cries, incoherent shouts, gunshots, explosions, fires. They all invaded her mind.

Her blood ran cold, her hands started shaking and her head was throbbing.

She couldn’t freak out, not now. She tried to keep her breathing under control, long enough to ask, “What?” but it came out so pathetic and soft that she wasn’t surprised when they cackled at her.

Long-hair walked in circles around the room as he narrowed his eyes at her. “Killed. Put a bullet in their heads, threw dynamite at them, hell even cracked open their skulls with a fucking shovel!” He stopped in front of her and tightened his fists. “They were my friends! They gave their lives to protect the Father from you. And now he claims you’ll protect us?”

His fist collided with her cheek. He hit hard but it was better than him using the butt of his rifle.

Or actually shooting her with said rifle.

Sydney slowly turned her head back to face them, ignoring the throbbing in her cheek. She could thank him, actually. At least it distracted her enough to calm down a bit.

There were still so many questions she wanted to ask, but asking her captors may not be the greatest idea.

Their friends? So she killed people from the Project?

She instantly thought of Elena, Trevor and Benjamin.

Who did she kill? Why did she kill? And if she did kill people from Eden’s Gate, why was Joseph okay with her staying on?

Then she remembered the Father’s words the day she arrived at the compound.

So now you shall atone.

Oh fuck. Is that what she was atoning for?

He struck her again. “You are a sinner unworthy of joining us at Eden’s Gate! We will avenge our fallen brothers and sisters, we wi-”

“That’s enough, Kevin.” the bald one said as Kevin punched her once more, on the same cheek and Sydney had to spit blood out.

Kevin backed away from her to face his companion. “She deserves a lot more punishment for everyone she’s killed, Norm. You know that.”

Norm sighed. “We got lucky capturing her when we did. But people will wonder where she is soon so we gotta kill her now.”

Even though her face stung and she had to blink a few times for her vision to steady, she was conscious enough to hear what they said. Sydney knew she was running out of time. If she wanted to escape, she had to do it quickly.

With both her captors distracted and turned away from her, she shifted her legs, feeling the cool glass underneath as she inched them closer to her wrists. She dragged her hands down the pipe and closer to the floor, slowly so as to not get their attention.

Some of the shards cut the inside of her leg but it didn’t matter. She could bandage them up when she was free. She couldn’t bandage a bullet hole to the brain.

Sydney finally got one shard close enough to her hands. She stretched her fingers to grab it and fiddled with it as quickly and as subtly as possible.

Thankfully Kevin and Norm were still busy arguing.

“It’s not enough to just kill her and get it over with!” Kevin yelled. “She showed no remorse, so why should we?”

“Because if they catch us we-”

“Rook! Rook, you here?” All three of them froze when they heard a voice from outside the trailer.

Sydney didn’t know whether to feel relieved or frightened when she recognized it as Benjamin’s voice. She couldn’t just scream for help. What if he didn’t have a weapon with him? What if they shot him first? Or shoot her then him?

She hid the broken glass in her hand, closing it in a fist.

“Shit. I told you we shoulda killed her right away, Kev!” Norm hissed.

“Shut the fuck up and let me think!”

Benjamin yelled again. “C’mon, Rook. You better not have left the island.” His voice sounded closer that time.

Kevin took two shallow breaths and gripped his rifle tightly. “All right new plan. We kill ‘im both.”

Fuck this wasn’t good.

Sydney chanced using the shard again. She needed to get rid of them before they hurt her and Benjamin.

“What?” Norm whispered nervously.

“He’s gonna come in regardless.” Kevin said. “I’ll shoot ‘im soon as he opens the door. Then we shoot her. Ain’t that what you wanted?”

Norm shook his head. “We don’t kill our own, brother.”

“I’m the one doin’ the work. I’ll be the one to accept atonement for this. Now stay here, keep your gun on ‘er.”

Kevin left the room quietly… on his way to kill her friend.

Something inside Sydney snapped.

She saw visions of herself breaking necks and cracking bones. She couldn’t see the faces of those she killed, but there were so many. She could easily kill Norm now, free herself with the broken glass then slice his neck open or stab him in the vocal cords.

She knew she could do it. Then she could shoot Kevin easily right before he got to Benjamin.

She could.

But she wouldn’t.

If she was a killer before- and by the sudden wave of images that invaded her head, she really was - she wasn’t one now.

Norm wasn’t focused on her, instead staring out the room probably at Kevin, looking like a nervous wreck. And to think he took a cheap shot to her knee just a while ago.

Sydney took that chance to finally cut through the ziptie. She didn’t waste any time and went straight for a still fidgeting and panicking Norm.

No killing.

So she stabbed his hand with the broken shard before he could react and fight back. He screamed as he dropped his rifle and Sydney grabbed it.

She heard Kevin yell ‘What the hell!’ from out in the corridor but she ignored it. Too busy getting her revenge on Norm by slamming his head with the butt of his own rifle, effectively knocking him out.

She took cover by the wall beside the open doorframe and yelled “Benjamin you better have your damn gun with you!” at the top of her lungs.

“Rook?!” Benjamin called from outside.

Then she instinctively ducked her head when bullets whizzed by her. “You fucking bitch!” Kevin screamed over the gunshots.

She checked the ammo of her own gun and thanked Norm for having it fully loaded.

If Kevin was still inside the trailer, that meant Benjamin was safe. And she had to make sure that didn’t change.

“Stay where you are, Ben!” Sydney screamed over another hail of bullets.

“What the hell’s happening?” was his reply.

Kevin cackled, his footsteps getting closer. “Like you care what happens to my brothers and sisters. I’ll make sure you don’t hurt anyone else!”

Sydney gripped the rifle tight, and after taking a deep breath, she moved out of cover and saw Kevin with his gun aimed right at her.

Jacob’s voice rang in her head.

‘You’ve been a damn good shot since you got to Hope County.’

She shot Kevin once, in the hand close to his rifle’s trigger. Kevin dropped his gun, yelping in pain.

Sydney slammed her rifle onto one of his legs, causing him to fall over.

She stood above him, keeping her rifle aimed. She kicked Kevin’s own weapon away as he groaned in pain on the floor.

“Finish me off then. Release that Wrath within you.” He pointed at the tattoo on her chest weakly.

“Shut up.” she hissed.

“You can’t run from your past, sinner. You ca-”

She put the rifle away to bend over and punch him hard in the face, knocking him out. There, now she paid them both back for what they did to her.

Sydney stepped back until she felt a wall behind her and slumped down, taking deep breaths.

Her adrenaline rush was slowly fading and she could feel the stinging pain on her face again and how her wrists were sore from being tied up for God knows how long.

She heard a door slam open followed by hurried footsteps. She looked up and saw Benjamin, his pistol out.

“Rook?” he asked softly.

If Kevin and Norm were telling the truth and she did kill people from the Project, maybe everyone else probably knew. And the scene in front of Benjamin probably looked suspicious, what with her being the only one conscious among the three people inside.

“They kidnapped me. They were gonna shoot you so I escaped, knocked them out and-”

“Whoa whoa whoa, easy Rook.” Benjamin placed his gun back in his holster and raised his arms up peacefully. “I know you didn’t have anythin’ to do with this.”

Sydney could only nod stiffly, grateful to her friend. “How’d you know to look for me?”

Benjamin placed his hands back down, and knelt beside her. “Elena got worried when you didn’t show up for breakfast this morning. She went to your cabin to check in on ya but you weren’t there. She asked me to help look for ya.”

He turned to Kevin then back at her, smirking. “Though it looks like you didn’t need my help.”

“What time is it?”

“A little past nine in the mornin’.”

She rubbed her sore wrists. Ok so she wasn’t out for long. Bless Elena’s kind heart for worrying over her. Sydney made a mental note to hug the old woman the next time she saw her.

“Let’s get you outta here, Rook.” Benjamin said, standing from his seat. “Need to get some ice for yer face.”

She frowned and looked over at Kevin. “What about him? And his friend in the room over there?”

“Pfft, assholes’re outcold. I’ll send somebody to get ‘im when we get back.”

Which reminded her, “Where are we exactly?”

“Still on the Father’s island. We’re in a little trailer not too far from the compound.”

Sydney laughed dryly. “How the fuck did those two even sneak me out of there?”

“Bah, prolly while everyone was attending the early sermon. Jacob’s right, we got great guards but anyone could pass through if they knew what our church schedules are, dammit.”

Sydney lifted her head up hearing the redhead’s name. “Does Jacob know? That I was gone?”

Benjamin sighed. “No, not yet. The plan was to tell him if I didn’t find you around the island. Luckily these two idiots were too afraid to stray far.”

Part of her was relieved that Jacob didn’t know. It meant she had time to process this new information by herself first. If he were the one who found her, she might’ve exploded and demanded answers from him. What were he and Joseph hiding from her? Why were they hiding it from her?

Sydney took one more deep breath before carefully standing up, mindful of the small cuts she still had on her legs from the glass. She strapped the rifle to her shoulder and brushed her hair away from her face.

She nodded at Benjamin and placed a hand on his shoulder as he helped her stand. “Thanks, Benjamin. For not accusing me of attacking them. Wasn’t sure what you’d think when you walked in and saw two bodies on the floor.”

Benjamin chuckled. “Aww hell, Rook! I got your back, I know you ain’t gonna hurt any of our own, unlike the two fools you knocked out.”

She smiled tiredly at him before heading out of the trailer, Benjamin following behind her.

Outside, there were two Eden’s Gate trucks. She found her jacket in what was probably Kevin and Norm’s vehicle.

Benjamin guided her to the passenger seat of the other truck before getting into the driver’s seat himself.

He started the engine before turning to her and softly saying, “Hey, I don’t know what those two said to you but, you’re a good person, Rook. We know you’re atoning.”

Sydney let out a short sob, willing herself not to cry. She nodded, keeping her eyes on the road in front of her.

And because she didn’t trust her voice not to crack, she simply said, “Thank you.”

--------------

It was a short drive back to the compound. Benjamin insisted she visit the infirmary first while he went to find Elena.

The doctor informed her nothing was broken. He gave her an ice pack for the swelling on her face to go down and disinfected the cuts on her legs. Thankfully the punches she took weren’t that strong, she only had a few bruises that should be gone in a day.

Elena practically busted the infirmary doors open, her eyes frantic until she spotted Sydney. The old woman looked like she was about to cry, hugging Sydney tightly. Sydney couldn’t help but hug her back, thanking her for being one of the reasons she was able to escape.

When the doctor was done assessing her, Sydney was free to go.

“You need me to stay with you, hun? Just ‘til you fall asleep?” Elena offered as they walked back to Sydney’s cabin.

Sydney shook her head. “That’s very kind of you to offer but I’ll be fine, thank you. You’ve done more than enough for me, already.”

“Oh hush girl! Like I said, we’re family. Then I’ll be back later to drop off your lunch. You just lie down and get your rest.”

“Thank you, that’d be great.”

They went their separate ways and Sydney saw her cabin in front of her.

She would’ve been relieved if not for Jacob leaning on the door.

She felt her heart sink. As much as she wanted to talk to him about what happened, she needed time to go over her thoughts first, untangle the memories that had begun to resurface.

Sydney stopped right in front of Jacob, who stared down at her intensely.

“You look like shit.” he simply said.

“It looks worse than it feels.”

He brought his hand up to move the hair away from her face, surprising her. He whistled as he looked over the swelling. “Damn, that’s still gotta sting though.”

Her chest tightened as Jacob casually and gently touched her, staring at her with those piercing blue eyes of his that sparkled when he genuinely laughed.

Funny how just a few hours ago, she did see them sparkle and she heard that wonderful laugh of his that made her smile when she and Jacob were talking over glasses of milk.

Then she got kidnapped, found out she was a killer and they didn’t tell her.

She turned her head slightly and Jacob paused before putting his hand back down. “The doc said I should be fine by tomorrow.”

He was still blocking her way and Sydney was about to politely ask him to step aside when he suddenly said, “The guys that took you, they-”

“I didn’t kill them.” she hissed.

“Hey, relax. I know. Your friend Benjamin told me.”

“Then can I go? I wanna get out of these dirty clothes already.”

“Look, Sydney I just-”

“Not now just… not now.” Sydney said softly, hoping he wouldn’t push her further. She didn’t feel like exploding in front of Jacob and the whole compound.

She needed to be alone with her thoughts, settle the crazy mess in her head first.

Jacob sighed heavily before finally moving out of her way. “At least get somethin’ to eat.”

His arm brushed hers as he passed her. She didn’t look back at him as she entered her cabin and closed the door behind her. Ironic how the last time they parted ways, it was a completely different mood.

Sydney took a quick shower to wash all the dirt and blood off of her before putting on some clean underwear and dressing in an oversized white shirt with the Project’s logo on it.

Her cheeks and jaw began to throb painfully and she patted them with the ice pack she was given. She stared up at the ceiling and allowed herself to process what she learned earlier, hoping the voices in her head would cooperate.

[lowtldes]

GUN FOR HIRE OC  ↠ Tristan Ong

MELEE / “The Up-Close and Personal” / Fights because he doesn’t want to move. Again.

AGE: 27

HEIGHT: 5′8″

SPECIALTY: The Brawler

WEAPONS: an engraved 1911 / his fists

OCCUPATION: Freelance Photographer / Fall’s End General Store Employee

LOCATION: Fall’s End, standing outside the General Store

SHORT BIO:  Tristan is a freelance photographer, new to Hope County. Tristan’s spent the last few years of his life moving from couch to couch, place to place. He needed something stable, so when his younger sister Thea got a job at Hope County Police Department, she suggested he move there with her since they could both use a change of scene. Tristan didn’t have to follow, but after their mother died and their father abruptly moved back to the Philippines, he wanted to be close to the only family he had left. He got a part-time job in the General Store at Fall’s End, which gave him a lot of time to hike around the county and pursue his work in photography. Then, barely two weeks after moving to the county, the local cult got violent. He hasn’t even unpacked all of his boxes, and now he’s getting into fistfights with every cultist that crosses his path. When Tristan wanted a change of scene moving to the county, he never thought it would have meant getting into fistfights with crazy religious cultists. Makes for good pictures, though.

RECRUITMENT MISSION: Shutterbug -- Help Tristan get his camera equipment from Deep North Irrigation Reservoir. [Talk to Tristan / Follow Tristan / Eliminate all Peggies / Pose for photos / Talk to Tristan] "Hey, I’m Tristan. Still new in town and boy is shit crazy right now, huh? I used to work at the General Store... well, I worked there for like five days and now, ah, I think my boss is dead so does that count as working there? Never mind. You look like you can fuck people up. I left some of my camera equipment on the roof of Deep North, could you help me get my shit back? The place is crawling with Peggies. I got some money from the register I could give you as a reward, just don’t rat me to my dead boss, heh... Oh, and I can snap some pictures for you too if you want.”

SPECIAL ABILITIES: MEAN SWING -- Glass jaw or not, if Tristan gets close enough he can down enemies with a single punch. Angels? Three punches. His hand wraps are always bloody for a reason. CAMERAMAN -- Tristan will randomly snap photos while he travels with you. Yes, even in combat. [pictures are located in the same folder as screenshots]

RELATIONSHIPS IN HOPE COUNTY:

Mary May -- He tried to apply for a job bartending at the Spread Eagle, but Mary May laughed at how terrible his bartending skills were. She still wanted to help him find work so she pointed him towards the General Store.

Jerome Jeffries -- Complimented Tristan on his photography once and Tristan was head over heels for the guy for the next three days. A little guilt about it too, the man’s a Pastor, after all.

Joey Hudson -- Tristan admires her, she’s a survivor. She’s pretty hot too, but he’s not gonna comment on that or try to ask her out. She looks like she just needs space, and Tristan steers clear.

Nick Rye -- Tristan thinks the guy’s okay, Nick won’t let him take pictures of Carmina, though.

Sharky Boshaw -- Tristan sees him set a guy on fire and thinks yeah, i’d tap that. Then Sharky opens his mouth, says something dumb and becomes another person Tristan is kind of in love with.

Hurk Drubman Jr. -- Same as Sharky. Turns out Tristan likes jolly idiots, Hope County is truly taking him through a journey of self-discovery. He’d join Hurk’s Gate.

Jess Black -- Scares Tristan a little. But she’s a great photograph subject, it takes him a long time to convince her to let him take photos of her.

Grace Armstrong -- The second Tristan saw Grace, he was fucked. Totally in love. She’s so awe-inspiring, and he’s pretty sure she isn’t interested in him at all.

Adelaide Drubman -- She looks like a blonde, slightly younger version of his mother. Nope. He stays away from that.

AMBIENT QUOTES:

[getting into cars] “Fuck yeah, let’s Mad Max this shit.”

[picking herbs] “Dude, I don’t think you can smoke that... but you do you, I guess.”

[in a church] “I grew up Catholic. Sunday pants and everything. Now I don’t know if I believe in God. If he’s real, he definitely doesn’t give a shit.”

[getting headshots] “What are you, an aimbot? God. I miss video games.”

[blowing up stuff] “Ah, it’s moments like these that make me miss Vine.”

[looting bodies] “That guy shat his pants and you’re going through his back pockets? Brave. I respect that.”

“Hey, can you kill that guy again? There was dirt on my lens.”

“God, I wish I could post stuff online. My photos about this war crap would get so many hits.”

“I really don’t know shit about guns. Seriously, if you even ask me what kind of gun I’m holding right now, I have no idea. I just took it from the store because I thought the engraving was pretty. Pretty. I don’t know shit. But hey, as long as I can shoot it, right?”

“All the Seeds are kind of hot, don’t you think? Crazy, of course, but hotter than they have any right to be. Except for Joseph, though. I mean I can see that he’s hot too, but the whole Jared Leto look doesn’t do it for me. That’s just me, though. If you think he’s hot, I support you.”

“You know, when my sister and I moved here, I really thought I was gonna be bored. I was scared I’d turn into a farmer or something. But nope, now I do murder. Life’s funny. Really makes you think.”

“I wonder if this shit’s made it to worldwide news. I wonder if my dad thinks me and Thea are dead. Dunno if he’d care, to be honest. That’s not who he is now.”

“Well, will ya look at that? My hands are shaking so much I can’t hold my camera properly. Maybe I should stop punching cultists in the face for a while, it’s really hurting my artist hands.”

QUOTES IN JOHN’S REGION:

[at Fall’s End] “Ugh, just thinking about unboxing the rest of my shit from the move makes me wanna take a nap. Seems pointless too. Why would I bother unpacking when there’s a war going on? Yeah, I know I’m procrastinating. But God.”

“John Seed. Sadistic motherfucker, isn’t he? Hot though, I’ll give him that. Definitely the kind of guy I’d blow in a nightclub bathroom stall and never see again.”

“Dude, we gotta stop that John Seed. Let’s blow up some silos and shit. That’ll get him pissed. Maybe he’ll tattoo us. Which I’m... definitely not looking forward to, I mean. Shit is fucked up.”

“So John was a big city lawyer, right? Why the fuck would he come all the way here? It’s just... cows and shit. But--ah, yeah, I can’t say shit about that though, can I? I moved here from the city too. I’m a dumbass.”

QUOTES IN FAITH’S REGION:

[at Hope County Jail] “Time for some prison photography, I guess. Never thought I’d get here.”

“Oh, you know that guy Tweak? Wonder if he’s alive. He gave me some good weed my first week in town. Don’t tell my sister.”

“Um, I’m not the only one seeing hippie Seed frolicking in the grass, right? Right?”

“Faith Seed is what happens when you go through your pretty princess phase and zombie apocalypse phase at the same time. Next thing you know it’ll be an emo phase.”

“Let’s run through some Bliss fields! The flowers would be beautiful props for portrait photography. Though, I wonder how good my photos’ll be while I’m Bliss high. The angles and focus would probably be all wrong. Yeah, never mind let’s not. The composition in my head will get so fucked... Actually, fuck, let’s do it.”

“Those angels, man, I swear I clocked one in the face and she bit my hand. What if it spreads like an actual zombie disease? Promise me you’ll kill me if I ever go bald, Deputy, promise me.”

QUOTES IN JACOB’S REGION:

[at the Wolf’s Den] “Is there only one bathroom here? Do they all share the same bathroom? That’s a lotta people for one bathroom. Eugh.”

“Oh god, we’re hiking this place, aren’t we? My legs are gonna kill me tomorrow. The things I do to keep my ass tight... And save civilians, yeah. That too. That’s also important.”

“The views we’re gonna see up here, oh man. I hope my camera’s got enough battery for today because I am not putting this bad boy down.”

“Jacob Seed is a goddamn fool. If he wants to put people in cages, he doesn’t have to kidnap them. There’s a whole community for people who are into that, someone’s gotta tell him. Not me, though. I like my balls where they are, thanks.”

“I think my sister’s kind of into that Jacob guy. Which is fucked up and stupid, but I’m the self-destructive idiot in the family so she’s not gonna listen to me. As her big brother, should I be worried? I can’t threaten that guy, I’m pretty sure. I think I’d die, but shit, I really feel like I’m supposed to have some kind of brotherly obligation here.”

“Those wolves--those Judges--that shit is so wrong. If we run into one I’m gonna piss myself. I can’t punch a wolf, can I? Oh wait, I have a gun. Right.”

[darkling-er]

Hope’s Savior ( John Seed x OC ) | Part 20

Summary: Trinity-Hope Johnson finds herself in the middle of a holy war, leading the Resistance, while having a complicated relationship with one of the cult’s herald. And she thought her first case would be easy. Oh how wrong she was!

Pairings: John Seed/Fem!Deputy, John Seed/OC, Earl Whitehorse & OC ( uncle&niece ), Joseph Seed/Fem!Deputy ( kind of ), might add more later

Warnings: mild language, violence, eventually smut, masturbation, oral sex, you know guys the usual, use of drugs ( bliss and other, thanks to Sharky ), fluff ( does that even need a warning? ), manipulation, angst, mention of mental illness ( insomnia, depression ), mention of child abuse ( from John’s side ), torture, I think that’s it? I swear it’s not so bad!

Word Counter:  7664

Notes: I played with the time skips a bit, I hope it’s good, I enjoyed writing this chapter. Although the next chapters will stay the same as before, because it was kind of weird, writing in first person, haha.

Also the part list became too long so there’s a masterpost to the parts from now on! 

Parts Masterpost  | Part 21 ( coming soon )

The silence is unbearable. At first they were fighting against their ropes, screaming words at their captor. Well, mostly tried to scream as they were both silenced with a tape on their mouth. But they stopped after a while, realizing it won’t do any good for them. So now it’s just silence.

John at one side of the room, his hands roped behind his back to a wooden pillar, while Hope opposite to the man, her hands roped behind the other wooden column.

The attic - which could easily be mistaken for a bunker, only it’s made of wood - is dimly lit by red light, hanging from one of the house roof’s pillar. And an oil lamp being against the wall, a flame burning inside of it. It reminds Hope of John’s bunker in some ways.

The man, their captor sits in a metal chair just between the two prisoners. He’s in his late 30s, maybe early 40s. Bald, a creepy grin on his face, his eyes weirdly wide. Just like in a horror movie.

After the man enjoys the silence he walks toward Hope, getting the tape off of her mouth painfully. She huffs, but doesn’t say anything. She’s too pissed at the whole situation. It’s all John fuckin’ Seed’s fault! She thinks, sending angry gazes toward the younger Seed. He looks pissed as well, angry at the woman, thinking it’s her fault they are in this attic with this maniac.

The stranger moves toward John, removing his tape as well, earning a painful groan out of him. Thanks to his beard it might have been uncomfortable, but Hope can’t think of anything else just: You deserve it, you fucker!

The stranger moves towards his desk and starts gathering his tools, turning his back to them. Hope looks around, looking for an escape root. There’s a way down to the house, but being roped to a pillar does not help. But if she could get free somehow that’s the only route she could take. There’s a huge window on the house, but it’s boarded, only letting in some light of the moon. It’s nighttime.

Hope tries to move her wrist in the ropes and winces in pain. The wound on her side bleeding and hurting at her moves. She looks down, her shirt torn apart at the place of the injury. Shirt and skin dirty and bloody.

She stops moving, her world turning blurry from the pain. If I won’t stop the bleeding I will die. She thinks, closing her eyes, trying to calm her breathing. She opens them up, looking into John’s blue eyes. He looks at her wound with remorse, then catches her eyes and looks away at the stranger.

Sure, can’t even look at me, when it’s his fault we’re both going to die in this attic.

Hope looks at the stranger, who’s picking up his tools, inspecting and putting them back on the table. The junior deputy looks past him, watching photos of her and John on the wall. Fucking psychopath... She thinks, shivering how the man could possibly get photos of them: the Confession, the Atonement, the moment Hope spared John’s life, him at the prison, even... What the fuck... even a close up photo of Hope being in a coma at the Jessop Conservatory. She only takes a glimps at the photo where John and Hope are having sex under his YES sign. A photo that the man must have took before the whole ‘incident’ and them getting captured.

She wants to turn away, not wanting a single one of the pictures being in her sight. But remembers not to as the pain in her wound takes over her movements. She silently whimpers, earning a concerned look from John, which she doesn’t notice.

Hope wants silence, better have the end being kept in silence, but the Baptist as usual has other ideas. He clears his throat and asks in such a casual manner Hope looks at him in disbelief. How can he pretend like everything is okay?

“So... who are you?”

The young woman scoffs quietly, not wanting to earn the strangers attention. If John wants to anger their captor, go ahead, she doesn’t care. At least she tries not to.

The stranger stops, grabbing a knife in his hand and turns around, walking back to the chair, sitting down in it. His body is slightly turned to John as he speaks. It’s the first time he’s talking, voice low and husky. Basically creepy from creepy town.

“I ask the questions.”

John raises his eyebrow, chuckling a bit. Hope’s heart beats like hell, fearing what their captor might do. And even though it’s John’s fault they are in this situation and he’s the cause of her wound she fears for his life. You idiot, don’t laugh at a psychopath.

“Well then, do you mind asking yourself who you are?”

Hope closes her eyes a small smile on her lips while shaking her head. This big idiot, I swear to God. She opens her eyes again, John sending her a smile back, but their captor doesn’t seem amused by his joke.

“Don’t be a smartass.”

He points the knife into John’s direction while talking, but true for a man who brings a knife to a gunfight, John doesn’t flinch. He just rolls his eyes, annoyed by the situation.

The stranger looks at Hope, a smirk on his face as he licks his lips, which make her look at him in disgust. Please don’t be a perv, please don’t be a perv...

“You start the talk.” He points the knife at her and Hope raises her eyebrow, not knowing what to say, which she says out loud too.

“I don’t know what to say...” She murmurs, face trying to be blank, but the pain on her side and the irony smell of her own blood makes her grimace a bit.

The stranger tilts his head with a grin:

“Start at the beginning.”

Hope doesn’t take her own advice for John, to not anger the man with the knife. She rolls her eyes as she speaks, annoyed:

“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth...”

John chuckles at that, but shuts up as the man suddenly stands up and places his boot on Hope’s hurt side, putting force on it. Tears gather in her eyes, she can see stars as she screams in pain.

“Leave her alone, you bastard!” John spits angrily, fighting against his ropes.

The stranger doesn’t comply, looking up at John with a smirk and a laugh:

“You stabbed her and you’re asking me to stop? You two really are difficult...”

The strangers looks down at Hope again, the woman crying from the pain. She knew she was going to die in Hope County. But she thought it would be from one of the Seeds. Not in a dusty attic, under the dirty boots of a random person.

When she thinks she can’t take any more of the pain the man lets go of her and she gasps for air, she didn’t realize the pain made her to hold her breath. She coughs, looking angrily at the stranger.

“Next time you try to be sassy with me, you’re going to die, missy.” He says, walking back to his chair, sitting down.

Hope closes her eyes, her body leaning forward, the only thing keeping her in place, not letting her fall to the ground is her ropes. She laughs quietly, a gutting sound coming from her lips as she cries, turning into a heavy breathing.

Once she’s quiet, only whimpering a little the man gestures to her:

“Let’s try again... You two...” He points to John and her, a creepy smile on his face. “I’ve been watching you.”

No shit. Hope thinks, looking at the pictures on the wall again, but doesn’t say a thing, remembering the previous pain. John raises his eyebrow, but knows better to say anything, waiting for his moment to speak. So the stranger continues:

“You two have been trying to kill each other since she...” He points at Hope there. “And her people landed on your brother’s island. And then you...”

He points at John, the man raising his eyebrow, looking angry since the stranger caused pain to the young woman.

“You let her go, when you had the chance to keep her captive.” He laughs, confused and amused, more amused, then he looks back at Hope. “And when you had the chance to kill him, you didn’t... You risked your own reputation to save his life.”

She frowns at him, not seeing the point of this conversation. Hope has been wondering who the man might be. He sure as hell isn’t Resistance, but he doesn’t seem like Project member either. So who is he and why did he watch them? What does he want?

The man claps his hands together, amusement on his face as he looks between them.

“I want to know why.”

Silence follows, only Hope’s heavy breathing can be heard nothing else. The stranger looks from one to the other, then shakes his head, standing up from his chair.

“If you can’t explain, then just tell me what happened. You two seemed to be bonding, but then out of the blue he stabbed you. Why?”

He asks looking at John, who opens his mouth to speak, but Hope is faster, faking a chuckle. Both men turn their head towards her as she sits up, grimace on her face.

“Oh, I can tell you why. Because John Seed doesn’t care about anyone else than himself and he’s a backstabbing asshole.”

She looks at John who scoffs, turning his head from her accusing gaze. The stranger looks at Hope, smirk on his face.

“Details, missy.”

Hope looks at him, thinking if she should play along with the man. Fuck it, we’re gonna die either way. She thinks for a second to where to start than opens her mouth again, starting the story.

“I guess it started when we were planning an ambush against Joseph and his family at the Ranch. We agreed on me being the bait for the man. Doing what he asked of me, walking the Path and then joining him on Sunday for his family dinner... We didn’t know where to go, but John did, so we took him along with us...”

...back in the Henbane, a week ago, on Monday...

We were driving in the truck, Sharky, John and me. It was risky bringing John as well. Just one glance at him by the peggies and it’s over, the Father would have definitely send people after him. So we kept him low. Our destination was the Father statue, knowing the Path starts there. So when we arrived at the place, a couple of shacks at the feet of Angel’s Peak.

The Path is a bullshit thing. I’m just going to say that now. They have like... little stones on the ground, saying a little story about Broseph and him finding God, listening to the Voice. The usual bullcrap he teaches. The whole path is shown with flower petals, if someone gets lost, I don’t know.

So the first stone, The Call, was there at Angel’s Peak, in front of the cabins. For whatever reason I couldn’t kill while walking the Path, so Sharky - and John - went along with me in the truck. It was difficult: there were wooden bridges, so they had to take bypasses and stuff. So I waited for them. I know the whole thing was just an act: for me to please Joseph, but man! He was an asshole. The whole Path near wild animals, Angels and even the fucking Chosen didn’t leave me alone. So Sharky took care of them while I continued the walk.

So there I was at the end of the Path after a long walk - and by long I mean it took me an entire day! So I was at the end of it, last stone, The Garden. At the bottom of Joseph’s eyesore of a statue. And I looked at John and I asked:

“Now what?”

And he just looked at me like I was stupid or something--

...

The stranger holds up his hand and Hope stops at the storytelling.

“What?” She asks, annoyed she was interrupted.

The stranger looks at her, his voice a warning:

“Could you stop swearing and insulting everyone in your story? It’s annoying how you use phrases and words like ‘or something’. If you’re telling a story, tell it right.”

Hope rolls her eyes so much she thinks it will roll out of her head. Is he fucking serious? I’m a bad story teller? John chuckles, earning a furious look from the young woman, who then looks back at the stranger.

“Well I’m sorry, I didn’t ask to be brought here and tell the story of my life. Also I’m bleeding out here, so if I’m a bad story teller, deal with it...”

She huffs out angrily, but their captor just looks at her and says in a warning tone:

“Continue... without the poor vocabulary.”

She wants to groan out, but manages to fight down the urge of it.

“Fine.” She huffs, thinking a second where she was interrupted in her story.

...

I asked John what to do next, was that it and he looked back at me with a smug face, saying:

“You have to climb the statue and jump.”

There was an awkward silence, I sweared some things in my head, then said:

“Nope.”

And I got in the truck, Sharky looked at me in surprise:

“Yo, we took an entire day to walk this Path and now you give up?”

I laughed at the man then looked to the backseat, where John was cuffed.

“I already took the Leap of Faith, I’m not going to do that again, I will die.”

And the... bastard - is that better than asshole? So he looked at me with a smirk and a shrug saying:

“Only Angels, whose resilience is well known to anyone who ever attempted to take down one of them and witnessed how they come back to life, even after getting mortally wounded, could survive the ordeal.”

Well, it started there. Because the whole point of me walking the Path was to do what Joseph wanted, so I could meet him on Sunday and take an ambush on him. But John didn’t mind telling me the fact that the end of ‘walking the Path’ is to kill myself in the process.

I shouted at him, saying this whole Path is just a scam, that his family is a bunch of liars. Which ended in me figuring Joseph never wanted for me to have dinner with him on Sunday, so the whole thing was pointless.

So--

...

“So she blew up the statue of my brother.” John interrupts Hope, looking at the stranger, not amused by that event.

Hope giggles, happy with herself and that she did actually pulled off blowing up Joseph’s monument at Angel’s Peak.

The stranger looks at John now, gesturing to him:

“You continue then.”

Hope scoffs, knowing the story will probably contain lies about her, but keeps quiet. John straightens his back, ready to tell his side of the story. While he does Hope plays with the watch on her wrist, the one she got from John back in the day. She manages to get the pin out of the watch, her eyes lit up at that, but she keeps quiet while working on getting her wrist out of the ropes. If John keeps the man occupied I won’t draw any attention.

And John speaks, the stranger looking at him while he does.

...

I tried to tell the Deputy to stop arguing for one second and start listening already. But she’s a stubborn creature, she didn’t listen. Why would she? Before we knew it, she got a launcher from Boshaw’s bag and started blowing up my brother’s statue, Which if anyone was wondering I payed for. Not only that, but it angered my brother, so he sent his Choosen after her. Which ended up in an even bigger fight. I couldn’t see the end of it, because she commanded Boshaw to bring me back to the Ranch, because still: I’m a dead man and no one can know that I live.

After arriving at the Ranch we listened through the radio. Jokes on you, Deputy. She was captured by my sister, Faith. Again. I don’t know what might have happened during that time, but next thing we know, we get a call from the Sheriff that she’s at the Jail with the Marshall.

...

“Now how did you feel about that?” The man asks and John blinks at him, his mask all the way up, Hope notices.

She doesn’t react, watching John’s eyes change a bit. She’s still having fun in reading him and it makes her heart ache. She looks away back at the stranger, while slowly working on her ropes. It’s difficult, but with enought time she could get lose. Unless she dies from bloodloss first.

John raises his eyebrow:

“What do you mean how I felt about it? I knew she was going to escape.” He scoffs, amused and annoyed. “She always does. As for the Marshall, I don’t really care. Faith failed, but she won’t get a scolding about that from Joseph. She probably suffered more for the Deputy destroying his statue.”

Hope doesn’t ask, but notices how John keeps calling her Deputy again. No Trinity, no ‘my dear’, no ‘Little Miss Wrath’. He really doesn’t care, does he? She blames her tears - which slowly wet her face, not alerting anyone in the room - on her wound and pain, but she can’t ignore how her heart feels broken.

“So you’re saying you were more worried about her being safe...” Their captor points at Hope, while still looking at John. “Rather than being worried about your... ‘sister’.”

There’s a moment of silence and John scoffs, shaking his head.

“No, I said I knew she was going to escape, so why think about it anyway. And with Faith I couldn’t do anything anyway. Being a prisoner that is.”

The stranger nods, probably thinking through the story in his head as he gestures to the Baptist:

“Continue.”

...

When the Deputy arrived at the Ranch with Boshaw’s aunt, that lustful woman they called a bunch of people over. Happy to have another one of their colleges back, I guess. So they partied, drank, danced around the living room.

Basically done anything to be annoying, obnoxious and loud.

...

“Now wait a minute!” Hope interrupts him with a fake laugh, gaining the strangers and his gaze. She stops razoring her ropes in the mean time, not wanting to alert their captor of her movements. “You did it with us! You partied and danced! Hell, you even karaoked with Addie!”

She laughs, shaking her head at John, who scoffs.

“Well better be a part of it, then get cuffed again and do nothing.”

Hope laughs, a bitter taste in her mouth as she thinks about what happened that night. Just the night before this, the events that lead them to be captured by the unknown man.

“So then tell me what happened.” The stranger speaks, still curious about the events that went down.

She looks at John who seems just as curious about her side of the story as the stranger. She sighs, then starts talking.

...

As I said, John and Addie were singing an ABBA song together, drunk, or at least I thought drunk. Later it turned out he wasn’t, but from his acts, I thought he was... Anyway I had enough. Sure, I kept my fake smile and fake happy mood up, but honestly? I don’t know how they do it. How the others can act like everything is normal, while I’m stuck in this depressed mood all the time. How could I party without my conscience saying to me: people are dying out there. People are suffering on both sides...

...

Hope imagines the scene that went out there, telling it to their captor, but leaving some scenes out, not sharing all her thoughts of the event:

How she went outside, stepping out of the house to the quiet night, critters and owls making the sound of nature. The muffled noise of John Denver’s Take Me Home. Actually it’s her favourite song, but at the time she felt like her mind was going to blow up from all the noise.

She sat down at the porch, her legs brought up to her chest, head resting on her knees, arms holding her legs at place. She set there for a while, until the door opened of the Ranch. She didn’t look up, listening how the music and talking became louder.

The young woman was expecting Sharky to come out and piss in the bushes, because for some reason even in a house he didn’t use the bathroom. The door closed again, muffling the noise of the song and the laughter again.

There were a few steps on the porch, when she felt a presence behind her. John... She could tell it was him. Not just by his cologne, which he kept using since he got back to the Ranch apparently, but also there was a weird atmosphere to the man that she couldn’t quite explain.

He sat next to her on the porch and she raised her head, looking at the man, who just stared at the direction of the river below them. The forest, the night sky, but not Hope, he didn’t look at her.

She layed her head on her knees, looking at the man next to her, exploring his features. His hands behind his back, resting on the wooden porch, legs outstretched. She looked down at his hands, his tattoos. She didn’t exactly payed too much attention to them, but now she looked at each carefully. A lot of them related to the cult and sins. But she watched one with careful eyes.

A cupid of some kind reaching toward a dove. A bird of peace. The dove being circled with a flowers. When she didn’t pay too much attention she thought it was a circle of sun of some kind.

Hope smiled to herself, looking at that piece of his tattoos, when she finally looked up to meet John’s gaze. She felt herself get flushed under his eyes, the pair of blue glistening in the moonlight. God, since when did he watch me?

He looked curious, focused on her face, eyebrows frowned a bit. He does that when he’s trying to read her, she noticed.

“What?” She asked turning her head a bit, looking at the near forest, still feeling John’s gaze on her.

“You were looking.” He said simply. Not accusing, just curious why she did it.

She shrugged, lips turned into a smile:

“What? Am I not allowed to look at you?”

She looked into his eyes, but he didn’t catch up on her teasing tone that time, tilting his head a bit, waiting for an answer for his unasked question. She sighed, giving up and smiling lightly at the man’s tattoo again, hands letting go of her knees, pointing at his tattoo, slightly touching his skin on his forearm.

“I like this one...” She said quietly, tracing along the circle of flowers around the dove. “It’s peaceful, not like the others, I like that... it suits you, even with all the cruelty around you, you still kept some peace in your heart as well... people just have to look for it, that’s all.”

She didn’t even know what she was saying until her sentence was finished. Silence followed and she looked up into John’s eyes. God, I feel like my heart is going to rip in half. He looked moved, even though she didn’t say much, but it looked like it meant a lot for him.

Finally someone realized he’s not just a monster. She didn’t think of him as one, anyway. She always searched for the good in every person.

He brought up his hand to her face, caressing her skin lightly. His eyes were soaked in affection and love as he looked down at the young woman, lips parting as he went to say:

“Trinity, I --”

A loud scream and laughter interrupted their moment:

“SO I’M SITTING THERE, BARBECUE SAUCE ON MY TITTIES--”

Hope bursted out laughing, John destroyed that Adelaide dared to interrupt their moment. But chuckled as well, watching the young woman next to him wiping her eyes of tears of joy. He shook his head amusement and confusion on his face:

“How do you even find these people?”

Hope still laughing stood up from the porch, John looking disappointed, then surprised as she took his arm and helped him up to his feet.

“I don’t know. They just seem to find me, where ever I go.”

She giggled, still holding his hand and leading him to Tulip, Addie’s chopper. John didn’t seem to mind as he followed her to the chopper, he looked at her before entering:

“Where are we going?”

She just smirked at him, entering the chopper on the driver side and waited for him to do the same. Then they took off to the air, going to her favourite spot in the Valley, which seemed to amuse the man.

“Seriously? This is your favourite spot?”

He chuckled as they landed at the feet of the YES sign after the fly in the air, stopping near it.

“Yupp.” She said, jumping off the chopper, John following her. She sat at the bottom of the ‘E’ just like last time she was there. Away from the noises and everyone else. John stood there for a second, wathced the young woman sitting under the moonlight, her blue eyes looking into his along with a sweet smile.

“You’re gonna just stand there and watch me like a weirdo?”

She asked teasing, John sitting beside her on the ground, watching the Valley below them. They’ve been silent for about half an hour, just enjoying each other’s company. She felt him tense, though she didn’t know the reason yet why. She thought maybe the silence was what bothered him, so she lay down on her back, looking up at the night sky with a smile, speaking and pointing up:

“That’s the Orion constellation... that’s one of my favourites.” She smiled as the man looked down at her then up to the sky, following her finger. She pointed to some other stars, called them by name, John laying down beside her in the process.

Then a short silence followed. She placed her hand next to his, not daring to hold his hand, but he brushed his fingers against hers slightly.

“You like the night sky this much?” He asked, amused by her enthusiasm towards stars.

She didn’t think much before sharing a part of her she never shared with anyone before. Not in detail, that is.

“My parents loved the stars, both for different reasons. My mother was a christian, she believed deeply in God, Heaven, the angels up in the sky. She was a free spirit, liked the nature, peace, humanity in it’s all glory...” She smiled looking up at the sky, John turning his head toward her while listening to her story.

“My father, on the other hand was a man of science. He was an astronomer, he loved the universe and the stars. Always wished he could travel to the Moon one day.” She giggled, imagining her father, though she never met him, just like she never met her mother. “They were at this festival of hippies. And they were stargazing together, having an argument about God and science. Oh, they hated each other. ”

Hope laughed, in her mind the scene was clear by what she imagined for years from her uncle’s stories.

“So of course they got married, after years of being together. My mom was a writer, her writings were about fantas stories for kids. Fairies and kind witches and stuff like that. My father worked as an astronomer and part time weatherman for the townsfolks. Because he didn’t believe in the weatherman’s on the tv.”

The young woman stopped for a second, John was patient, listening to her every word.

“So when they were pregnant with me they were overjoyed. Least that’s what Earl used to say. They were so excited, they wanted everything to be perfect, although they weren’t rich or anything of the kind. They had fights about money, I know that, even though my uncle kept the dark parts of their lives under silence for long... Anyway when they moved to Missoula to a new house they painted the room, my room’s ceiling exactly like the night sky. My mother was good at art, she painted them all, my father helped her to be precise of every single star...”

Hope turned a bit sad, her next part of the story not so happy anymore. John felt that too, his hand finding hers, fingers connecting.

“When they died, when I was born Earl already had a home. At first he didn’t knew where would I go, who would take care of me. My grandparents, you see, from my mother’s side hated me. Hated my father, for not being a follower of God. So I never met them, for all that I know and care they are dead... My father didn’t have a family. Only my mother and me. So because Earl was my mother’s brother he took me in. He was two years older then you at the moment, he wasn’t paid that well, he didn’t knew how to raise a child, but he did.”

She chuckled lightly, her tears slowly sliding down her face:

“I think I turned out pretty well, though... I’m just...”

She stayed silent, her tears stopped and John looked at her, pushing himself up from the ground to lean over her, eyes locked:

“What?” He asked trying to make her continue, but she didn’t.

The young woman reached up for his face and kissed him passionately. Even though he wanted answers, finally got her to confess to him about a part of her life, but he kissed her back still.

She grabbed the base of his scalp, pulling herself up from the ground to sit next to him. Then she rolled him over to his back, a situation he seemed to be surprised by. Yup, he’s totally used to being on top.

But she didn’t let him speak as she climbed on him, grinding herself in his lap. He moaned into her mouth, hands on her lips as she did circles on him, trying to get some friction.

...

“I don’t care about the sex scene.” The stranger says with a blank expression, looking bored as she explains the scene that went down in the wild, under the YES sign.

John chuckles, raising an eyebrow:

“You sure, that’s the best part...”

Hope looks at him, unamused by his laugh and when he returns her gaze his face turns cold, looking down in front of him, feeling remorse.

“I care what happened after.” The stranger says, so Hope sighs, continuing her story, but still leaving out some scenes, for she doesn’t want a complete stranger to know about that night’s events.

Even though he probably watched them having sex, the fresh picture on the wall making it impossible for him not to.

Hope skipped the part where she told her story with her parents, telling about just some sentences. And now she leaves out the parts too where everything really went wrong.

...

They were breathing heavily, bodies sweaty from the sex. They didn’t remove their clothes eniterly so they didn’t have to do much to take on their clothes again.

They were sitting up, looking anywhere but each other. This whole thing is so complicated with him, but I can’t seem to just let him go, not do or feel anything.

The silence was unbearable, so she started talking again:

“My parents came from different worlds, but they were happy together.”

John frowned at her, not knowing how to react at first. Then he stood up from the ground and dusted off his pants. He turned his back to her, picking his pocket, though she wasn’t paying attention to his actions, just his words:

“Not everyone can be as lucky as them.”

Before she thought about her words she said it out loud, cursing herself afterwards:

“We could try.”

John froze, his body tensed up, she could see it in his shoulders, how he straightened his back. She watched the muscles under his shirt as he did. She couldn’t take her words back, so she might as well continued:

“John, I know you love your brothers, but you can’t seriously follow Joseph, thinking he’s doing the right thing. He used your childhood abuse against you, feeding into it, like it was nothing to him. He’s delusional!”

She regretted her words as she said them, watching his back shaking from anger and she knew she should stop but she didn’t. Her voice raised bit by bit, being angry at Joseph for using John in such a way. She just couldn’t believe his older brother loved him if he kept pushing him around.

“He’s a murderer!”

John turned around and she focused on his face, which was a big mistake later, but she didn’t realize that at the moment. He looked furious, the previous action of making love to each other, affection in his eyes gone. Only fury and anger in it.

“Oh, because you’re such a saint, right?” He said to her with venom in his voice, made her eyes teary.

“I know my flaws, John. I willl have to live with myself, knowing all those lives are ruined out there because of me. Families, torn apart, because of me! But don’t think for a second I’m anywhere near your brother! He’s a fucking psychopath, who murdered his own child!”

She said it, not caring if John knew about it or not, though the confusion in his eyes told her he didn’t.

“You’re lying!”

She cried and laughed, standing up from the ground, looked him in the eyes:

“Why would I lie about something like that?”

He looked at her and it broke her heart, the anger and disgust on his face unbearable.

“Because you’re the snake in our garden. You’re just trying to pull me into sin, away from the right path with my family.”

She scoffed, looking away.

“Wow...” She opens her arms, like giving up, shaking her head, then looking back at him. “Then what? You’re going to try and bring me back to Joseph? Make your big bro happy and proud that you finally managed to do something that’s not fucked up and ruined?”

She hated herself at that moment, she was hurt, he hurt him that was true but she never intended to hurt him that way. Only then she realized he had a pocket knife in his hand, something he might have stolen while everyone was partying at the Ranch. Shit...

He cried out a war cry, tackled her to the ground, the knife landing at her side and he slashed a line along at it. The pain and surprise made her look up at him with teary eyes. He seemed shocked by his own actions, mouth moving like he was about to say something, maybe even say sorry as he held the knife in his hand, tossing it on the ground.

“You...” She wanted to say something hurtful, maybe something obscene, call him names, but didn’t had the chance as he was hit by something hard, he fell to the ground next to her.

She then looked up at the stranger, who hit her in the head, the world turning black.

...

“So here we are.” Hope finishes her story, looking at the unknown person who attacked them at the bottom of John’s sign.

He looks unhappy by the story, like he still misses the essence of the tale.

“Why did you let him live?”

He asks her, and she looks at him confused. The fuck kinda question is that? The man seems annoyed and irritated to wait for an answer and he stands up, putting the knife to her abdomen.

“Why... did you... let him... live?”

She gasps for air, trying to hold her breath to not cause any more wounds on herself, the blade of the knife touching her skin. She stops wriggling her wrists, the rope almost already gone, which she worked on while telling their story.

“Because I needed a joker card against Joseph, so I can use him, bargain him for one of ours even.”

He looks into her eyes, an evil smile on his face.

“You’re lying.”

She frowns, not amused as she gets angry at this unknown person.

“Why the hell do you care so much anyway? Why all the photos? Why bring us here? Why the fuck are you obsessed with us?”

John looks at her in worry and warning, trying to gesture for her to shut up, she has a dagger at her stomach.

“Oh, isn’t it obvious?” The man says, lifting his knife from her gesturing around. “I don’t care about the ‘Resistance’ or the ‘Project’. Too boring, too... casual. I need something more interesting, and by far you two have been really interesting. I got bored when he stabbed you, so I thought I would get my final questions from you, before searching for something else for fun.”

Hope looks at him in disbelief. Now he’s totally a sadistic mental person, that’s for sure.

The man huffs out at her silence, and looks at John for a second, looking like he had the worst and best idea ever.

“Let’s play it in an other way then...”

He steps next to John and without warning he makes a cut on his face. Not too deep, but enough to cause bleeding on his cheek. John doesn’t even say anything, just looks angrily at the stranger.

Hope on the other hand knows him. He can take a punch, after the stroy he told her about his parents abusing him, but she fears for him anyway, worry in her eyes.

The stranger looks at Hope, his knife at John’s shoulder, pointing at the flesh, ready to enter it entirely.

“Why did you let him live?”

She looks at him bewildered, not knowing what answer would satisfy him:

“I... I don’t know.”

She says and feels like it’s the half truth, but it doesn’t seem to please him. He pulls the knife right into John’s shoulder blade and he muffles out a groan from the pain, anger on his face as he chuckles, looking up at the stranger:

“Oh come on, that’s only just a pat...”

Hope looks at John fear in her eyes for him as the man forcefully pulls out the blade from his shoulder.

“Why did you let him live?” He grabs John ear, ready to tear it down with the knife.

She widens her eyes, panic in her voice:

“I don’t know! Please, I really don’t know!”

He starts slowly to cut into the younger Seed’s ear, earning a mix of laughter and painful shout. She fastens her hand with the pin on her ropes, trying to fight herself out of the restraints as she screams:

“STOP! PLEASE! I DON’T KNOW!”

He doesn’t stop though, John’s ear bleeding like hell and she cries for him, cries for his pain and she shouts out:

“BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT HIM!”

The man seems to stop, but doesn’t let go of John’s ear. As for the younger man he looks at her confused, not sure what to make of her sentence. The stranger nods to her, a gesture to continue and she curses him in her head but doesn’t want him to continue his torture on the man that she loves.... wait what?

“I... I cared about him already, I just... He understood me, he tried to understand me. And I knew there was more to him and when it came to it, I just couldn’t pull the trigger. How could I, when deep down I knew he was right.”

There, she said it. The thing she tried to hide from everyone, especially the man himself and his family. That she actually believed in parts of their story. She looks at the stranger, swallowing her pride as she pleads to him silently:

“Just please, don’t hurt him.”

The man lets go of John, a wicked smile on his face, pointing at her with his knife:

“See? That wasn’t so hard! Although I was hoping for something sinister. They call you The Sinner and here you are...” He looks disgusted by her, not amused. “Ugh.. Just a teenager with a crush. Well, it’s right what they say. Every story is great until someone decides to put romance in it.”

He talks to himself, then turns dark as he approaches her with his knife, Hope’s hand already free behind her back now.

“So now you two die.”

John shouts a no at the man, but there’s not time for reactions, Hope gathers all her energy and jumps on the person. She tackles him to the ground, rolling on the wooden floor. While fighting they break the oil lamp which sets the hay on the only way out on fire. The flames quickly spread, destroying the only escape route.

But Hope can’t do anything as the man manages to push his knife to her arm. She punches him with her elbow, a cry of pain leaves her lips thanks to her wounded side and now arm. She punches the man, the knife falling on the ground and she kicks him into the fire. The man screams, when he lands down into the flames. But she doesn’t care, he’s dying and they still have time to live.

She can hardly stand on her legs as she falls to the ground, getting the knife and freeing John from his ropes. He asks the most stupid question at a situation like this:

“Are you alright?”

Once he’s freed he grabs her face gently, his eyes going crazy as he checks up on her. Smoke fills the air and they start to cough thanks to it, the reflex making her side bleed and hurt even more.

“Yeah...” She lies as they look down at the only entrance, but it’s already up in flames, the body of the stranger burning up, dead. The fire spreads up to the attic as well, slowly making it’s way to them.

They scatter to the boarded window, both trying to pull on it, trying the knife even, but it’s impossible to get out. They manage to get one board off, but the knife snaps in half as they do so.

They won’t fit through the exit. Hope coughs and slides down next to the wall, the huge window that is covered. John looks down at her in worry, himself looking in bad shape as it is.

She’s pale, already lost too much blood and the fire and coughing doesn’t help her.

“Someone must be looking for us.” John tries his best to make her feel hope and faith. He takes her small form into his lap, holding his hand on her wound, leaving soft kisses on her forehead. “Drubman. She must be looking for her chopper, they... they may find the cameras in my office. They might figure out where we are.”

She looks up at the man, holding his arm gently which he holds on her wound:

“I’m sorry.” She says, feeling weak, too weak. Her mind feels like turning off, the welcoming feeling of sleep getting the best of her.

John shakes his head, looking at her, a chuckle on his face which is filled with worry:

“No, no... I’m sorry. This is my fault. You’re hurt because of me.”

She feels her eyes closing, but he caresses her cheek, whispering to her to keep her eyes open, to stay awake so she tries, for him. Her eyelids feel heavy as she looks up at him.

“I always wanted ice skating, before I died... guess I misse out on that...”

She says weakly and he looks at her in worry, coughing when he tries to speak, then his words meet her:

“You will. We will together, alright? I’m going to go with you. We can do it.”

The room feels hot, too hot. She doesn’t dare to look at the fire, she can’t even move her head. She slowly blinks, fighting the urge to close her eyes.

“Do you think she’s inside?”

A shout comes from outside, a man’s voice. John perks his head up and looks through the gap through the boards. He shouts out:

“WE’RE INSID! WE’RE IN THE ATTIC!”

Excited voices come from outside, surprised voices:

“That’s Brother John!”

“He’s alive!”

“How could that be?”

Hope doesn’t worry about the voices, peggies as it turns out, she just looks up at the man who looks down at her a smile on his face:

“You hear that? We’re going to get out!”

She doesn’t feel closing her eyes, but she must be as she can’t see him anymore, vision turning black.

“No, No, Trinity! Open your eyes, please, please! My dear, open up, look at me.”

He whispers to her, leaving kisses on the woman’s forehead. She wants to, but she can’t. She wants to comfort him, tell him to not to worry, but she can’t do that either, his voice starting to get distant, though he doesn’t move from her.

“We could try! You hear me, we could try it!” He cries against her cheek, but she can’t feel anything, his voice only a muffled thing now. “Please, Trinity, don’t leave me. I lov--”

A/N:  I think the POVS got a little messy at the end, so sorry about that. I just wanted to write some inner thoughts which Hope wouldn’t share with them. I hope it was still enjoyable though. Thanks for reading ♥ Also yeah, I used this gif that I took 2 minutes to make because I’m lazy, haha. But I’m in love with Seamus!John so even if he’s without a beard I love him, haha.

Tags: @onl-you , @redaurora17

[hunchbearing]

The Sonic Guys’ Story

“I’m heading to Sonic with TJ, baby. See you later.” 

Peter had said those words to his wife at least twice a day for the last sixteen years. He was forty now, almost old enough for his age to justify the dark circles under his black eyes. Janice had loved him once. They used to sneak up to the roof of Peter’s old apartment building in the moonglow of the steamy summer nights of L.A. They talked about their darkest secrets, their greatest hopes. They made love like animals on those sandpapery shingles so many times, the roof had an oval-shaped section worn bare by their writhings. Janice’s incredible yoga-sculpted ass could have been used to hammer the nails back in, if she’d been so inclined.

But that was long ago, and these days her rear end reminded Peter of a stocking full of cream cheese. A mud baby that never grew grass, save for the few scattered stray hairs. Peter always told her where he was going. He made it a point to announce it to her zombie-like face every single time. He didn’t know why he bothered. A diseased part of his mind hoped that maybe, just once, she would doubt what he said. After all, who goes to Sonic every single day? She might suspect an affair with some eighteen-year-old cheerleader who thinks cum tastes like Cinnabon icing. Yeah, that would stick it to the saggy old hag. But alas, she would always wave it off with a generic mumble. “OK, babe. Have fun.” She wouldn’t even extend him the courtesy to look up from the Lots-o-Slots game on her phone. She thought her husband was just going to Sonic. And she was absolutely right. Their last sexual encounter was a drunken blowjob on Valentine’s Day. Peter’s aunt had died that morning. Janice cooked spaghetti for dinner. After they ate, she took off his pants and told him to sit in the table. When he felt the crumbs of his children’s morning Pop Tarts on his bare cheeks, he had to hold back tears. And like an angel of mercy, his own mind came to his rescue. Erotic images flickered across his psyche. Two dollar happy hour.tomorrow. Vanilla blueberry slushie. Fifty cent corn dogs all day long on Saturday. Just fifty cents! Such sweet savings. Such value. It was his first erection in five months. It was his first orgasm in a year. Janice knew Peter was having an affair. An affair with a woman named Sonic. Her sister Audrey would always make jokes when Peter was gone. “Peter is off with his boyfriend TJ again? They’re going on another one of their Sonic dates?” Janice would always offer a weak smile. If only. If only he were fucking a man. But to do that, you have to be alive. Peter was a corpse. An M&M with no chocolate inside. As for his balding blonde friend TJ, she had her suspicions that he was mentally challenged. The three of them went to a movie together once. While Peter was out in the bathroom, Janice took TJ’s hand, gently ran it up her thigh, and pressed it hard into her matted pubic hair. He giggled like a schoolboy. “That’s squishy!” Peter could have that dunce. Those two spent most of the 21st Century at that Sonic place, eating that repulsive cheap garbage. So many nights, Peter came home with that smell on his clothes. He was like a human onion ring. When the odor started to linger in the sheets, she made him sleep in the living room. Whatever his fascination was with that grease hole, she wanted no part of it. She just wanted someone, anyone, to give her a moment of attention. As for TJ, he was perhaps the only human being who enjoyed Sonic more than Peter. In TJ’s youth, Sonic was his refuge from the constant beatings delivered by his shrill mother. “Why can’t you do math!?” She home schooled him, unwilling to put him in special needs classes. “No son of mine is going to Tard School,” she’d often proclaim. “Why can’t you spell your own name? Your own name! You stupid bastard! You worthless stupid bastard!” After hearing the words “stupid bastard”, TJ knew The Belt was coming. Theodore Joseph Jr., in a desperate attempt to please his mother, started going by TJ around age 11. After all, he could spell TJ. Mother was enraged. The beatings only got worse until finally she punctured his right lung. He was placed into foster care. His new mother, Ms. Gladstone, was a 400 pound chainsmoker from Louisiana. She had no children of her own, and treated TJ with a kindness he hadn’t known before. Her restaurant of choice was Sonic. She ate all her meals there and would take TJ to every single one of them. She’d request her chili on the side, so she could slurp it like morning coffee. At home, they would talk and play games, and she would always give him a quarter when he scraped her feet with her pedicure kit.

But of course, paradise didn’t last.

Mrs. Gladstone choked to death on her favorite sandwich: a bacon cheese toaster topped with tots and coney chunks. It happened right in front of TJ, and after he laughed at the way her face changed color, he realized the gravity of the situation and attempted to resuscitate her with a few punches to her flabby stomach. The courts decided that TJ’s mother, who was now fresh out of rehab, was ready for a second chance at raising him. She regained custody, and resumed the savage beatings. But TJ’s heart was warmed by fond memories of Sonic. His church. His promised land. His universe. He wore Sonic like armor, and it dulled the sting of the large rodeo championship belt buckle. When TJ was 25, his mother died of lung cancer. On the day she began her permanent hospital stay, he was sternly informed that he could not sleep in her bed with her. He was enraged, as was Mother. The altercation that followed was thereafter known as “The Mommy Incident” by the staff. The veteran doctors still occasionally retell the tale in the breakroom to put a scare into the new interns. They were legally obligated to let TJ stay in the hospital, so he was banished to the waiting room. During the many days TJ spent there, he made friends with Peter. Peter’s grandfather had colon cancer. When Peter and TJ would sit in the huge, quiet waiting room, TJ would crack wise about his favorite cartoons on Nickelodeon. Peter’s sides would split in laughter. He was charmed by TJ’s juvenile sense of humor. It wasn’t until weeks later that Peter realized TJ was just flat-out juvenile. Peter stood by TJ’s side at his mother’s funeral. They were the only two people in attendance. The funeral director’s two sons had to fill in as pallbearers. “Pretty heavy for a little bitch,” one of them griped. After it was over, Peter turned to TJ and shrugged, “Wanna get something to eat?” TJ paused. For the past 15 years of his life, he hadn’t tasted anything but ketchup toast and boiled cabbage. TJ wrestled with the concept in his mind. Get? Eat? Peter helpfully chimed in. “There’s this one drive-in place I saw on the way down here. Ever been to Sonic?” TJ’s hapless moronic mouth split into a gaping grin. “Let’s go!” And go they did. TJ was in heaven. As they pulled into the space, he was thrilled by the bright colors on the walls and the sleek chrome trim on the signs. It was like arriving in a city of the future. The carhops rolled around on skates with platters of food. They were like angels on wheels. Looking at the menu, he hardly recognized it from his childhood. There were so many more choices now. Thousands of them, in fact. Milkshakes. Malts. Slushes. Cream slushes. Coneys. Cheese fries. Cheese tots. Chili tots. Hamburgers. Toasters. Chicken strips. French toast sticks. Mozzarella sticks. Breakfast burritos. Onion rings. Not to mention the thousands of possible combinations of flavors you could put in your drinks. Chocolate. Vanilla. Cherry. Blue Raspberry. Lemon. Lime. Orange. As if by magic, he never wet the bed again after that day, and only seldom shit his pants. Right there, TJ decided to go to Sonic every single day of his life until he had tried the entire menu. When Peter pointed out to him that it was impossible, that he could live several lifetimes and never try them all, TJ just smiled and affectionately stroked his Wacky Pack toy. In a few short years, he would have a massive collection stashed in his house. Whenever he needed shelf space for a new toy, he threw some of his mother’s old clown figurines onto the front lawn. With the Wacky Pack kids in his house, Mother’s voice could never get back into his brain. Peter also had an immediate attraction to the place. You drive up and pick your spot. You look at the menu. There’s no pressure to decide, because you press the button when you are ready to order exactly what you want, down to the last detail. He was aroused by the level of control he had. Perhaps it was because he felt he had no control at home. At Sonic, he was God and he ruled with an iron fist. It was even better with TJ. Peter was fascinated with TJ. The big idiot could grate on his nerves a little, but he would be damned if he didn’t find his ignorant innocence charming. He had such a zest for life. At least the parts of life that involved Sonic. It wasn’t long before their weekly trips there became daily. They talked about the food, the drinks, the service. TJ would often make a comment on the meal that bordered on insane, and Peter would try to correct him, then ultimately throw his hands up in defeat. “Popcorn chicken? How do they make the popcorn into chicken?” “What do you mean? It’s not popcorn. It’s chicken.” “Right, but how did they turn this popcorn into chicken?” “They didn’t. It’s just chunks of chicken that you can eat like popcorn. Popcorn chicken.” “Oh, so they just feed a lot of corn to a chicken and then cook the chicken.” Was this what it felt like to love a son? The years flew by. TJ remained a child, and Peter ignored his own children. The strange couple learned everything about Sonic. They became the Encyclopedia Sonnica. If you told them what you were going to eat, they knew exactly what kind of drink you should have with it.

“Bacon cheese toaster? Get a blue coconut slush. Squirt of chocolate, squirt of lemon. Oh, hold the bacon? In that case, orange cream slush, squirt of strawberry, and get some real limes in there, and a cherry. Yeah, they’ll do it. They have to do it for you if you ask.” They knew the names of all the kids in the Wacky Pack; first, last, and even middle names. They had written letters to Sonic’s CEO asking for their backstories, and when their letter was returned, they were disappointed with the flimsy answer.

“The Wacky Pack all live in ‘Wacky Land’? What the hell? That’s not even canon!”

They took it upon themselves to create a detailed universe for the characters - one that actually made sense. Their submission to Sonic Headquarters never received a reply. TJ often dreamed he was in the Wacky Pack, running and playing in a world of jungle gyms and smiling tater tots. They would make their pilgrimage to Oklahoma City and visit Sonic headquarters a few times a year. If a new product was coming out, they knew about it before anyone else. If Sonic announced a new dipping sauce on social media, TJ and Peter had posted about it 5 hours earlier on their own Sonic fan-website, along with a 1000-word critique. TJ baffled Peter in this department. Despite the fact he was illiterate, he could dictate a fast food product review that hit the ear like a Shakespearean sonnet. His words on the honey mustard dip actually made Peter weep. For once, TJ was exceptional at something. His mother’s cigarette burns were fading, both from his skin and from his memory.   As for the carhops who delivered the food to them, their opinions were divided. Several of them affectionately called Peter and T.J. the Dailies, because they always showed up at least once a day. They called them by name, and Peter and T.J. knew their names too. That was the carhops who liked them. The others referred to them as “The Menu Fags”. Peter was “Coney Cunt”, and T.J. was “Tater Tard”. Trixie was their favorite carhop. 20 years old, chubby, a front tooth missing. Hearing their Sonic trivia was always the high point of her day. And Peter would stay up all night researching mind blowing fun facts, just so he could recite them to her the next time she served them. She was impressed with him, for God’s sakes. No way would he let her down. On the rare occasion he made love to his wife, he imagined her with a visor and rollerskates. One night as he crudely thrusted into her, he blurted, “Did you know Sonic was originally called Top Hat? They had to change the name because it was already taken - Unnng!” Janice was taken aback. “What are you talking about?” But by that point, Peter had already climaxed. Even his loads were starting to smell like fry oil. “God, I’d like her to sit on my face,” Peter pined as he spotted Trixie delivering to another spot one afternoon. “But how would you breathe?” T.J. laughed. “God, never mind. I need new friends.” A few minutes later, Trixie showed up with their food. “Hey, guys! I saw you got grape, coconut, and whipped cream in your lemonade. What’s the occasion?” Peter smiled bashfully. “No occasion. It’s just that I got extra onions and ketchup on my coney this time, so I figured it would hit the palate just right if I complemented it with something exotic.” “Interesting! Broadening your horizons, huh? You’re the expert I guess. So what have you got for me today?” Peter coyly raised one eyebrow. “Well, just out of curiosity, do you know what Sonic used to be called?” Trixie’s face brightened. “No way. It used to have a different name?” “Peter wants you to sit on his face!” Peter stared ahead blankly. TJ looked at him with an openmouthed smile. Trixie was frozen. “That’s 24.57,” she finally spoke. Peter didn’t turn his head. “Here’s a fifty. Keep the change.” “Hah! He wants your big fat butt on his face.” They didn’t see Trixie again after that. They tried several locations over the next few weeks, thinking maybe she transferred, but she was nowhere in sight. Peter’s libido officially collapsed. Once their favorite server was gone, they took more and more long-distance trips. They called it “Sonic Surveying”. They took notes. Which place has the freshest fries? The cleanest parking lot? Even better, which locations had menu items that nobody else had? 

During one trip, TJ stuck his head out the window and struck a mailbox. Even though his scalp bled like a fountain, he held a towel to the wound and insisted they press on. His health could wait; he had to know if the El Caldera branch really did leave their corn dogs on one side for too long. Eventually, Sonic took up so much of Peter’s time that he had to quit his job at the water department. He signed up as a customer service rep for the sole reason that he could do it at home. As he sat at the computer, his eyes frequently flitted to his framed photograph he took of his neighborhood Sonic. Trixie was holding a Route 44 Dr. Pepper with blueberry flavoring, waving to the camera. Peter would occasionally run his finger over her breasts. As for TJ, he hadn’t had a real job his entire life. His mother was a wealthy heiress, and when she died he became a wealthy heir. But he had no desires beyond Sonic. The family accountant took care of the bills, and when TJ was home he watched his beloved cartoons with the Wacky Pack arranged all around him, all facing the TV. When women saw him in public in his Gucci sunglasses, they would often saunter over and flirt with him. But his childish attitude drove them away like the stench of a dead dog. Many of the would-be gold diggers assumed Peter was some kind of caretaker to the boy. After all, how could a man look so sullen, so empty, unless he was changing adult diapers 7 days a week? Peter was somewhat aware of their reputation among the Sonic workers. Through the windows, he’d occasionally see the fry cooks snicker and point at him. When he walked inside once to complain about his mozzarella sticks, he overheard one of them call him a “gaylord”. Since then, he often made it a point to mention his wife and kids while he bantered with TJ. “My kids would love these dino-shaped cookies.” “I should get another of these Valentine slushies for my wife.” “Wow. With these half-price root beers, I can get enough for my whole family. And fuck the ol’ wife later, if you know what I’m saying.” TJ never knew “what he was saying”. It wasn’t directed at him, anyway. It was just in case the Sonic twerps were listening. There was never a “moment of epiphany” when it came to Sonic. There wasn’t one specific day when Peter realized the restaurant had consumed his entire identity. It came little by little. The only thing was, he didn’t care. Where else would he be if it weren’t for Sonic? 

Would he be back in his miserable cubicle reading meters 40 hours a week? Wow, sounds great. 

Would he be playing with his kids? Fuck that shit. Those girls never loved him. Even when they were toddlers, they cried when he held them. They rejected his presence like an amputee can reject an arm transplant. He wasn’t their hero. He wasn’t even an authority figure. He was just a stranger in their house who paid the bills and kept their cell phones in working order. 

His wife Janice? She’d never admit it, but she was just as hollow as he was. The fun, smart, challenging, sexy girl he fell in love with in college was as dead as Princess Diana. Buried in the casket of a fat old bitter woman, but dead all the same. Who had the right to say he was wasting his time, anyway? What do other people do? Watch sports? See movies? Play games? Listen to music? Everyone on the planet was killing their time as far as Peter was concerned. Sonic was just his own version of wasting time. Entertaining himself with cheap food as the world spun around. As the faint lines on his face became deep wrinkles. As his hairline faded back like a tide. As his pooch became a pot belly and his teeth rotted. As the french fries under his seats got as hard as wood. As his daughters grew older. As they had their own children. As the world’s countries collapsed into themselves. As the continents collided back into one. As the earth’s water baked into the sky from the heat of the sun. As the galaxy swallowed itself. We’re just killing time, at the speed of sound.

[quicksilver-rain]

Toni and Thor!! Im lov them

This is long because I am verbose:

Full Name:��

Toni doesn’t actually have a last name, but at some point she made one up because she assumed that because everyone else had one, they must be important. So I guess her last name is technically Frewin

As far as Thor is concerned, words like, “beast,” and “eldritch terror” and “ohmygod, what the fuck is that?” get thrown around a lot. He’s usually introduced to people as “Thor, the Mechanical Beast,” if someone Toni’s travelling with is feeling particularly dramatic, or more often than not, “my dog, Thor,” by Toni

Gender and Sexuality: 

Toni’s cis-female and either aggressively ace or too busy trying to survive to worry about things like feelings and relationships.

Thor doesn’t technically have a gender, being that he’s made of metal and magic, but Toni’s always called him by male pronouns and he’s never corrected her. He doesn’t have a sexuality at all, also due to being a one of a kind metal/magical doggo.

Pronouns:

She/her and he/him respectively. Though people also tend to call Thor “it” as well.

Ethnicity/Species:

Toni as a character started out half-elf in the first D&D campaign I used her in, but now she’s a human. She’s from Summerfell, so I guess that’s her ethnicity, if she was out and about in the real world, she’d probably be Hispanic/Irish or Spanish/Italian.

Thor’s…um… breed? Is something akin to a shar-pei, and he looks like a walking Fu Dog statue. I guess technically, he’s a war-forged, but we’re running 5e and that’s not a race anymore.

Birthplace and Birthdate:

If you were to ask Thor where and when she was born, he would tell you that she was born screaming and crying and bloody in the tunnels of Moonhold pleading with the Gods for a miracle or several. Toni would tell you that she doesn’t know where she was born or who her parents were, but that the Miner’s Camps and Tunnels are the only homes she remembers. 

If you asked Toni where when Thor was born (made?) she’d tell you that she thinks he was forged in the mountains by the a mysterious man and brought to life by his magic and that he wasn’t born so much as he opened his eyes and there he was. Thor would agree with this statement. 

Guilty Pleasures:

Toni’s basically a scavenging urchin that steals to survive, so her guilty pleasures are things like sleeping in beds and stealing nice soaps from shopkeepers that yell at her and taking baths. She also has a fondness for sweets and likes to be read to. 

Thor’s guilty pleasure is chewing bald patches in Inn rugs and scaring people that deserve it. 

Phobias:

Toni used to be a miner in Moonhold, because that’s basically the only “job” the poor have around there. One day there was a cave-in, pretty much everyone got out safely, except for Toni, who was pinned beneath the fallen rocks and couldn’t free herself. She screamed for help, but the wardens of the mine simply cordoned off the tunnel and sent the miners elsewhere. Toni kept up yelling for someone to help her until she passed out from blood loss and shock, and the next time she opened her eyes, she was alive, missing pieces, and was being stared at by Thor. Later, she was kidnapped by mages (doctors) that wanted to figure out how her shiny new prosthesis were attached to her and nearly died a second time because people are shitty and some of them like to experiment on people. Because of this, Toni has severe claustrophobia (mostly in cave-like environments). She’s also scared of boats and deep water, because she’s heavy now and sinks like a rock, and is scared absolutely shitless of anyone that calls themselves a doctor. She also has a not insignificant fear of being forcefully separated from Thor. 

Thor, for what it’s worth, is terrified of losing Toni and is scared of what might happen to her if the Bad People take her again. 

What They Would Be Famous For:

Toni actually won the Belt of Fortitude during a bare knuckle brawl against some Joseph Jostar lookin’ motherfucker. She was exceedingly lucky and made a lot of money that day that she doesn’t know what to do with. She does know the criminal underbelly of Raven’s Warf is in awe of her skill and power.  

Thor, by virtue of being Different, is famous simply for existing. Doubly so because Toni’s the Grand Champion of the Raven’s Warf Fight Club.

What They Would Get Arrested For:

Stealing, probably. Or illegally participating in underground fighting rings. Or trespassing.

No one could arrest Thor. He’d rip them apart. Also I don’t think they make handcuffs for dogs.

OC You Ship Them With:

There’s no one for either of them, really. One of my friend’s character’s, Raenon used to flirt with Toni a lot, but nothing came of that. 

Thor is uninterested in ships, unless they’re the little paddle boats that look like ducks, because those look just like big ducks.  

OC Most Likely To Murder Them:

I personally don’t have an OC that wants to kill either of them, but there are plenty of people that want to see how each of them works. Dead or alive doesn’t matter. 

Favorite Movie/Book Genre:

Toni actually can’t read anything but thieve’s cant and the occasional stray word, but she likes listening to fairy tales and ballads. 

I feel like Thor’s favorite book is probably either some really trashy romance novel, or Pride & Prejudice, no in-between.

Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche:

If Toni was ever inclined to watch a movie, she’d probably hate forced romances that are convenient to the plot, if only because she wouldn’t get why the idiot protagonists are making out when there’s a countdown timer to the end of the world. Also, she’d probably yell, “LET DISABLED CHARACTERS BE DISABLED!” at the television at least once. Probably more than that. She’s thankful that she has her prosthesis, but while they help dramatically with her every day life, there’s a lot of compensation and general fuckery related to them. She’d also really hate disaster movies, too, for obvious reasons. 

Thor would not be into the humans vs. robots trope, and he would also high-key hate any movie where a robot begins questioning its humanity. Thor is alive, as far as he can tell, he can feel the sun on him and thinks for himself and  loves Toni more than anything. He doesn’t need to debate the philosophy of the human soul and life, he’s already experiencing it. And that is enough for him.

Talents and/or Powers:

Toni’s got the power of highly volatile and not wholly understood magic. Also she’s got one metal arm/shoulder, one metal leg (from mid-thigh down) and thre metal fingers on her otherwise flesh hand. She has a very high threshold for pain, and also is squirrely as all fuck. 

Thor has magical energy constantly clouded around his head and tail, functions as both a space heater and a bag of holding, can speak auditory binary (which is how he communicates with Toni), and can reduce a stone keep to rubble in a day and a half if given a reason to.

Why Someone Might Love Them:

Toni tries her hardest not to give people reason to dislike her, because she doesn’t think she has a lot going for her. She’s no nonsense, but kind to people and likes to take care of people she doesn’t think can take care of themselves. She’s also very comfortable with herself and Thor and has a sort of angry confidence about her. 

Thor, need I remind you, is a giant doggo, and also a good boy.

Why Someone Might Hate Them:

Oh man, there’s a lot, the least of which is just that Toni doesn’t trust people very easily and sometimes comes off as being really rude or blunt, when she’s just stating facts as succinctly as possible. She doesn’t mean to be mean, but sometimes when you’re being chased by mages, you don’t have time to spare people’s feelings. She also tends to bottle things up until she has a minor freakout that’s usually set off for a good reason. She also collects stuff like a magpie (she used to be an artificer and this was how she got components) and aggressively hoards her things. 

Thor has a lot of teeth, and when he growls, it sounds like thunder. 

How They Change:

Well, aside from the species swap, Toni’s a little more accepting now, though she’s not even remotely trusting. She’s not quite over her claustrophobia, but she can function well enough in a cave if there’s a need for her to. She’s gotten better at listening and can read at least a few of the smaller words.

Thor’s pretty fluid as far as changes go, he doesn’t age or grow like everyone else does, but he’s learned the nuances of sass and has finally figured out how to work doors in a way that doesn’t involve them being torn off their hinges. 

Why You Love Them:

Oh dude, Toni and Thor are my first D&D characters, and even though pretty much every campaign I’ve played in with them has been cancelled, I just really like playing as this scrappy little street rat just doing her best to get by. It’s just so nice. It’s also really nice playing a team of people that love and look out for each other and sort of have this forged by fire relationship. 

I'll add a picture of them latee, perhaps, I'm on mobile right now and don't have access to any references I might have of them.

[darkagesreloaded-blog]

Dark Ages Reloaded - Reenactors fifth side story

What could a zombie notice from his unholy life? The answer has brought to you by the fifth side story:

A cruel storm was raging. Heavy, black clouds twisted in the wind. Greenish lightnings were flashing and perishing without any sound. Car honks, rifle and cannon shots, curses, pleas, death screams and hoarse growls sounded from everywhere. The air were heavy from the smells of spilled blood, smoke, and death. Joseph was a well-groomed, slightly obese, balding, but still good-looking businessman despite he was lying on the cold, filthy and cracky sidewalk. Humans and strange human-like beings were running above him, but thanks to a miracle, no one stepped to his dying body. The noises and smells reached him dully, as if there was a shell between him and the world. He felt a pulsing pain in his throat, where someone bite him right before. Joseph was tried to remember his own name, but he has failed. In contrast his failure, he remembered well, that he was at her lover’s apartment, and he was going home to his wife and children, when that being attacked him. That happened right after that strange, dreadful, ethereal scream had sounded up, and nearly paralyzed him for a moment. He had tried to stop his car, but he accidentally knocked into the vehicle before him, and someone crashed into him at full speed. He had knocked out, but gathered himself. He got out from his broken car at the passenger side. He has held his mobile in his hand, and tried to call his lawyer when that wench threw herself up onto him. The attacker was a veil eyed woman, whom face were streaked with bloodstains. She must be some kind of idiot. Her fingers curved into claws torn into Joe’s smoking and her teeth bitten into his throat. Joseph had to hit her three times to get free. He got really angry when he had noticed that his vest was torn and his favorite shirt was soaked in blood. Joe touched his wounded neck, but instead of a small bitten wound, he found a fist-seized hole. His blood was squirting from his ruptured veins. By the time he realized that he couldn’t breathe, earth was unstoppable coming toward to him. He didn’t feel when he hit the ground. He knew that he would die, but he didn’t feel himself frightened, instead of he felt a strange calmness. - I stole, I cheated, I lied all of my life… - these were his last thoughts. – I had cheated and betrayed everyone whom I loved… But at least my wife and children will have a good life on my ill gained money… - Their well-known faces getting fader and fader in his mind. He was still holding his cellphone in his hand. The Iphone showed that the time was 20:55. The world had fallen into chaos twelve minutes before exactly. Joseph was waiting for to catch the light, or glimpse one of the seven hells, where he must pay for his sins, but only the daze became stronger. The death was in late. As the time had passed by, his senses sharpened. He saw and heard everything around him. He was obeyed his instincts and tried to set up, but he had failed. The pain in his throat was torturing, but not as much as his uprising thirst and his raging hunger. Suddenly a man showed up. He got madness in his eyes and the reflexion of the fires that burst out everywhere. To his torn and soot-stained, but once expensive suit doesn’t match with that bloody and oily electric screwdriver that he had holding. From the screwdriver a thin, narrow drill bit emerged, covered with black gore. - You filth! – He shouted to the dead, like he had harmed him before, but they had never met. – You son of a bitch! – He shouted again while he kneeled down. – My wife! My children! – He cried madly. From his eyes tears were falling while he had put the screwdriver to Joe’s forehead. Wife? Children? Joseph no longer understood the meaning of these words. Unless he was dead, he felt the pain. The drill tore the thin skin of his forehead and slowly got the bone penetrated. - Stop! It hurts so much! – Joe tried to protest, but he just couldn’t. His veiled eyes turned toward to the mountains of Buda, crowned by the still-raging storm. He was still looking the storm and the greenish lightnings that perished without any sound, when suddenly, the vision of a beautiful woman showed up in Josephs mind. She had worn some kind of ornate linen, what instead of hid her pale skin and her enthralling body, highlighted her charms. The woman had worn a silver mask, forged to immortalize the most beautiful woman ever. At the places of her almond shape eyes, there were emeralds glowing with a deep fire. Joseph had felt, that the Forsaken glanced to his tattered soul. She had felt his pain, the helpless anger, the bitterness and the fear. - You must not fear! You are strong, stronger than you could ever imagine! Stand up my child! – She said in a velvety, still icy voice. – Stand up! Destroy everyone who tries to harm you! Joseph’s arm swung upward. His blackened fingers, covered with his own, corrupted blood, bitten into the throat of his torturer. The man had fallen to the ground. The drill bit had broken, but the pain hadn’t decreased. - Stand up, and take revenge for the pain on the living! – said the Forsaken. Joseph’s body started to move again. He was standing up awkwardly. Every movement was slow and hulking, but in aware of his deadness, he felt that a good result. Livings were running alongside him. He wanted to taste the flesh and blood of his newborn enemies. - Yes, this is it! – encouraged him the ethereal apparition. – Kill them, and live my children! – The Forsaken whispered. By the time Joseph had taken his first, uncertain steps, the mad man had also stood up. They together threw themselves on a young woman. She screamed. The girl could run away, but had stopped and tried to hide her enormous breasts, slipped out from her torn blouse. Joseph’s fingers had tearing bloody gouges in the soft skin of the girl’s belly. His teeth bitten into the breasts, while her scream had reached its high. The pleasure had gone too soon. The blood was getting curdy as the girl became one of the walkers. Joe sensed the tastes of life and now he wanted more. His veiled eyes were looking for a new prey, but his sight has blinded by incoming spotlights. He detected the weight of the bus, but his bloodlust swept away his last humanlike thoughts. A living man drove the bus. A man, who held cold, rigid steel in his hand. Joseph smelt the blood of his fallen brothers and sisters. - The revenge will be so sweet. – he thought vaguely. Joseph, the man with the screwdriver, and the torn-breasted girl had moving toward the prey, but they didn’t have a chance against the bus. Joseph’s body hit the ground. In his broken bones a new pain had been raised, but this gave him unholy strength. He tried to stand up, and took revenge for the fallen. - Braaains! – he growled. It seems that a worst zombie movie flashed into his memory. His mouth had opened again, but the words never spoken out as the wheels quashed his head. His blackened brain sprayed to the ground. Josep’s short undead carrier ended.