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inafieldofdaisies · 1 year

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WIP Wednesday Whenever | Tagged by @nightbloodbix <3 | Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @adelaidedrubman @strafethesesinners @strangefable @nightbloodbix @nightwingshero @aceghosts @madparadoxum @g0dspeeed @trench-rot @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @euryalex @sstewyhosseini @detectivelokis @purplehairsecretlair @jinfromyarikawa @shegetsburned @clicheantagonist @locustandwildhoney

and anyone with something to share <3

Sharing a snippet from the opening of Chapter 9 for this week's WIP check-in. The full ch.8 is now on AO3 for anyone that might have missed it/need it for more context.

Soon enough John drove past the gate leading up to the Project's Greenhouse and the "YES" letters that marked the path to the ranch came into view, making Savannah exclaim as she glued her face to the window, "Rin-Rin, look!" Sabrina smiled at her sister's reaction, her mood improving for the first time since the ambush. "I didn't know you had a second sign, Seed.", her gaze shifted from the sign to him. He smirked, "It's the road to my home. How else would I mark it?" She leaned in, whispering, "You know, with your love for it, one could only wonder if you have the word all over your underwear, too…" He didn't miss the way she avoided saying "Yes" in front of him yet again. You're turning this into a challenge… and I'm always up for one. "Are you asking to take a look, Deputy?", he questioned, the possibility making him raise an eyebrow in intrigue. Sabrina settled back into her seat, shrugging, "After your stunt this morning, you kinda owe me a peek, won't you say? Call it making us even." "Now, now, and what would Deputy Hartley think about that?", he was testing her again, looking for a reaction. All he got from her as response at first was a daring smile, her face softening at the mention of the Sinner, then she finally said, "He'd probably place a bet on the outcome."

John followed the dirt road to his ranch and as they neared, he could see Mathias standing in the driveway, waiting on them as instructed. He put the truck into park and Savannah spoke up again, excitement laced in her voice, "Ah, this is your house? It's so big! Oh, Rin-Rin, we can basically play hide and seek!" Before Sabrina could even respond, her sister was opening the door and climbing out, running straight into Mathias, the unexpected encounter stopping her dead in her tracks, as she stared the man up and down in curiosity. "Sav, no running, please! You stay on me.", she called out as John and her exited the truck, too. "Hello, Mister. Are you a Peggie?", Savannah asked as she scanned Bennett's appearance, at the same time her sister reached her, grabbing her hand. Mathias narrowed his eyes, glancing at John in question before a smile appeared on his face when he turned back to the little girl. Good, following instructions. "Hello, Little Miss Donovan, I've been expecting you.", he reached out a hand for Savannah to shake, "Mathias Bennett, at your service.", then he addressed her sister with a nod, tone dropping as he muttered, "Deputy Donovan." John joined them where they all stood, "Mathias is my most trusted man, Savi, you don't have to worry." Savannah's green eyes lit up at his words. "Hello, nice to meet you, can I call you Benny?", she asked while shaking the man's hand enthusiastically. Mathias winced, but after a pointed look by John he caved in, saying, "Of course." "Deputy, why don't you two go on in? I need to speak with Mathias for a second." Sabrina nodded, a look of understanding passing over her features before she led her sister towards the front door. Mathias watched silently until they disappeared inside the ranch. "Boss, don't take this as me questioning your orders, but-" John frowned, "Sure sounds like you're about to question them, Mathias." "Just… you asked me to put on clothes without our symbol… Joseph-" "Who's in charge here?", he was growing impatient, knowing there were other more important things to discuss. "You, boss. Just why?" "The child is scared of us. I was making things easier for everyone." "I still don't understand why-" "I bought them here?" You and me both. Mathias nodded, his face betraying the fact he was preparing himself for a verbal lashing for the direct question. "I'm doing what I consider best for the Project. Always have, Mathias, and always will." "And if the Father asks?" "I'm the one that's supposed to report to him. He could be testing you. Anything related to the Deputy is above your station, so you tell him to reach out to me." "Noted."

John's face hardened as thoughts of the ambush entered his mind, "There's something more important to figure out, Mathias." "Boss?" "There was an ambush.", he lowered his voice, "The Resistance. Three of them, quite unprepared, but still took us by surprise.", he said the last word with disgust. Mathias gave him a worried look, waiting for more. "There must be a leak, Mathias. You find out who let them know where I would be and I'm going to deal with whoever chose to betray us all." Bennett shook his head, "Boss. No offense, but our men wouldn't do this… That Sinner could have called them for help while you weren't paying attention." John narrowed his eyes in warning, "The Deputy didn't do it, I'm certain of it. She had no opportunity. You worry about finding the traitor. She's my responsibility." He knew Sabrina wouldn't put her sister in danger like that or risk scaring her in any way, that fact was crystal clear to him since the moment they reached that cabin. She had plenty of chances to escape, yet she stayed, even helped him. It wasn't you, Deputy. I know it. And if she did call for help, it would have been Hartley coming to her rescue, not some ill-prepared Sinners. No, that ambush was all about getting revenge on John for trying to cleanse their souls. Charlie had made that painstakingly obvious. The push-back, the anger were nothing new. Mathias remained silent, so John repeated, "Am I clear, Mathias? You find that person and bring them to me. From now on, we're switching channels when it comes to communication related to the Deputy." Bennett finally nodded, an unreadable look on his face, "Anything else, boss?" "I'm heading inside for a minute, then I'm going back to the bunker, you make sure Hudson is prepared for her Confession when I arrive." Sticking to the schedule, returning to his duties would certainly clear his head, erase the thoughts of Sabrina. Yes, it will work. It has to. "Will do.", Mathias walked over to his truck, picking up a walkie as John opened the door to the ranch.

When he stepped inside, Sabrina was just coming down the stairs and gave him a faint smile as she announced, "Savannah chose a room." "Good." She went to cross her arms but at the last second for some reason decided against it, "So… is this going to be a regular occurrence?" John raised an eyebrow in question. "You know, ambushes, people seeking revenge for,", she lowered her voice, "getting kidnapped and tortured." "It's not what-" "Sure, you 'free them from sin'.", she made air quotes as she rolled her eyes, "You kind of get a different perspective of it when you're sitting right next to a torture table, tied to a chair that's on wheels, for some reason." He couldn't stop a smirk from forming, "Are you making fun of my methods, Deputy?" Sabrina shrugged, "I'm not about to give you any advice for more successful torture, don't worry. So, should I expect more trouble or?" "Are you worried about me, Sabrina?", he took a step in her direction, then another, eating away at the distance between them, and she still didn't retreat. "No, John, I'm worried about my sister. You seem capable enough to ensure your survival. All I'm asking is if I'm going to wake up one day and have people with pitchforks, or in our case, rifles, storming your house…" Her words made him smile again, "That sounded almost like a compliment." "Why is it so hard for you to answer a question?" Fine, spoil my fun. "You don't have to worry, I promised to make sure your sister will be comfortable." She nodded, "See, wasn't so hard, right? Thank you." "Anything else? Because I'm heading out." Though in that moment, he couldn't make himself turn around and leave the house, not with how much entertainment she provided as he ruffled her feathers.

"I, well, I do have something else to ask…", she chewed on her lip, worry visible in her eyes. "Yes, Deputy?" "Are you going to tell him about my visions?" John knew who she meant by him. "What do you think?" "I'm hoping for a No, despite your obvious fixation with the other word." Yes. So easy to say, Sabrina. Just say the word. He nodded, "I won't, for the time being. I told you I'm trying to find a solution." "To our Catch-22?" "Yes." Sabrina breathed a sigh of relief, those eyes that haunted him filling with emotion, "Thank you. I don't know why you're really doing this… but, thank you. And for the way you acted when Charlie and his men stopped us… I can't imagine if Savannah had gotten hurt-" "You're welcome.", before he could stop himself, he reached out a hand in an attempt to comfort her, but the second he made contact with her left forearm, she winced. "Deputy?" "I'm fine." John's fingers carefully touched her brown cardigan again and came up bloody. "You're hurt, you're not fine. Why didn't you say anything?", a frown appeared on his face, and it refused to leave his features. "It's nothing." "Sabrina.", his tone held a hint of warning, "You've been bleeding the whole time. It's not nothing." She was back to minimizing, downplaying how she felt and the serious nature of things: her lack of sleep, then her sketches, now this. "I told you I'm fine. I'm fine as long as Savannah is safe. It's all that matters.", her gaze weas full of conviction when they met his, urging him to drop the matter. No, Deputy. I'm not dropping this. "You're not fine. That "kid" shot you. You let him live without facing the consequences. And, you hid the fact you were hurt, instead of telling me." "It's a graze, John, sorry I'm not rushing to you for first aid, knowing our situation. And that boy was scared, trying to defend himself." "After he ambushed us-" "People make mistakes. I could hear him as you fought with Charlie, there was doubt, fear in his voice, even regret." "He could have killed you." And taken you away from me. Sabrina rolled her eyes, "I'm here, aren't I? I can-" "Take care of yourself, oh, I know." She smiled, "Ah, you learn fast. Now only to teach you how to follow simple instructions. There's hope for you, Seed." Her words felt certain, holding a promise that maybe she saw something in him. Something worthy. The look in her hazel eyes was drawing him in again, to reach out, to touch her. No. He couldn't allow it. It was a distraction.

John shut down the urge, instead saying, "There's a first aid kit in the bathroom upstairs, can I trust you to patch that wound on your own before you start bleeding all over my floors?" Sabrina looked at him in amusement, "Here I thought you didn't mind a little bit of blood.", then she added, "I've been taking care of myself, and Savannah, for years, John. Trust me, I need no assistance for a tiny cut."

What if I wanted to take care of you… to know when you're hurt… No. He kept the awful thought to himself when he spoke again, "Good, and stay on the premises, I will know if you haven't." He had to leave before his resolve crumbled bit by bit. John turned his back to Sabrina, opening the door as she called out, "Should I expect you for dinner?" He was tempted to take one last look at her, wondering if he would see hope written on her face at the question, but he didn't allow himself to. "It's my home, after all. Goodbye, Deputy." As he closed the door, he heard a hushed, "Goodbye, John."

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snake-in-the-garden · 1 year

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Chapter 4 is Here!!!

Banner by @chazz-anova

Chapter 4: Word Gets Around

Summary: Ramona becomes a special interest to Eden’s Gate.

Pairing: Sharky Boshaw/Ramona Belmont

Rating: M (for now)

Word count: 7.1k (oh god...!)

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of past r*pe/s*xual assault, panic attacks, brief plane jacket slander, John and Jacob being themselves

A/N: Hey there...It's been too long since the last chapter due to me loosing some motivation to write everyday when winter hit. There's just something about the cold air and early night time that just takes a toll on me. Anyway I felt so bad about basically disappearing for months, I made this chapter way too long for what I usually write and it still came out like it was rushed. Ugh...Thanks to those who were patiently waiting to see more of Ramona and happy reading!

Taglist: @euaveri @turbo-virgins @eur0paa-2 @strafethesesinners @henbased @adelaidedrubman(I guess both of our girls aren’t special) @aceghosts @shallow-gravy @alexmalikplays @gxmergurl @thomrainer @lost-poets-poetry @svsunflowers @mr-krinkle @jfsfjjj

Prev. Chapters: Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

Masterlist || Taglist

Read it here or on Ao3

~~~

"I think an apology is in order," Mary May admitted. "From me, of course." Ramona arched an eyebrow as she stopped sipping on the red, fizzy beverage the blonde had gifted her. "You strutted in them Jimmy Choo's got me thinkin' you were one of John's people," Mary May continued. "I thought Sharky had made the same mistake as last time and I just went off makin' you think I was some sorta bigot." Speaking of Sharky, he had just left the bar a bit ago to check if the garage in town was open or not. Ramona would've gone herself if Sharky hadn't insisted.

"This happened before?" Ramona asked, resting her head in her hand.

"Sharky had brought one of them Peggie girls in here some years ago." Mary May grimaced at the memory. "She started goin' on about 'The Father this' and 'The Father that' so much I had to kick 'em out."

"I assume 'The Father' is Eden's Gate's leader," Ramona inferred.

"Yeah. Joseph Seed. Some man-bunned, shirtless weirdo who convinced practically half of the fuckin' county that he's some sorta prophet," the bartender informed. "But he's not the only one you should worry about."

Ramona leaned closer to Mary May, bracing herself on the counter with her forearms. "Pray tell."

"Well the one you just met was John, the youngest brother," Mary May began. "He's the cult's recruitment lapdog and the reason they're able to 'get away' with alotta shady shit." She rubbed her forefinger and thumb together to indicate someone being in someone else's pockets. "Then you got the oldest brother, Jacob. You can't miss 'em. He's a redheaded biggun who's basically the muscle of the cult. And finally there's Faith. She ain't blood but she's just as creepy as the rest of 'em."

Ramona sensed the blonde wasn't quite telling her everything about Eden's Gate. If these people were doing "illegal shit," she wanted to know about it. But with the way Mary May's voice slightly trembled and her blue eyes kept shifting, it probably wasn't a topic she wanted to be pressed about.

"Either way just keep away from 'em. You don't wanna get involved."

"I'll do what I can. Though I doubt I could avoid John since I'm so 'fascinating' to him."

"Oh please, you're not the only woman who's rejected him. He'll find someone else to harass. Probably."

"And here I thought I was special."

Mary May snorted.

~~~

"I didn't think one woman could get you like this." John grunted at the comment as he laid out on the couch with his arm resting on his face. The one who made the comment was Jacob sitting across from him.

"I'm not 'like' anything. I just hate how fast those sinners can act when it comes to corrupting someone," John frets as he sits up.

"From what you described, I can tell she ain't the type to fall for your 'charms' so easily," Jacob inferred while crossing his arms. "Considering she'd rather hang around the redneck and the barmaid."

John grimaced at his brother's statement. "She was just so…vicious. Wouldn't even entertain the thought of hearing me out for even a second. She was gorgeous though."

"I'm sure she was." the redhead stated as he set his feet up on the coffee table. John glared at the action only for Jacob to ignore it. "But it shouldn't be your dick's decision who we add to our ranks. It's Joseph's decision."

"Speaking of which; isn't Joseph supposed to be here by now?"

The two brothers were waiting on Joseph at the Seed Ranch to give their weekly reports on their recent progress with their work within the Project and to have dinner later. John and Jacob were both sure that it was Faith making Joseph late. Before anything else could be said, the front doors opened alerting them to Joseph entering the Ranch with Faith following close behind. John and Jacob stood up to make their way to the foyer to properly welcome their leader. "Good afternoon, brothers," Joseph greeted fondly. "I have something truly important I want to share with you." The siblings moved to the dining room while John ordered one of the faithful who were stationed at a Ranch to make coffee for them.

As the siblings settled, Joseph let out a heavy sigh, bringing in the others undivided attention. "The Voice spoke to me the night before and has told me that a wayward soul would come to us seeking answers." He then turned to John. "I've heard you met someone today at The Spread Eagle. A woman with brown skin, long black hair, and a tattoo in the middle of her back?" The youngest Seed pondered to himself about how much Joseph knew of the incident; half hoping that all he knew was that they talked. If you could call what happened "talking."

"Yes Joseph. A serpent and roses to be exact," John started as he sat up straighter. "My men made it known to me about a young woman coming into the county and I went to the bar to greet her. But it doesn't seem like she'd be seeking anything from us."

Joseph stiffened. "What do you mean?" The other siblings could feel the tension settling within the room. "Did something happen?"

"It was awful. She was so quick to be dismissive of our cause due to those sinners and---!" John faltered.

"Please John, calm yourself," Joseph soothed while still ridgid. "What are you trying to say?"

John took a breath. "All I'm saying is as it would please me to cleanse her, this woman's soul is probably too far gone due to the corruption of--."

Joseph held his hand up; silencing John's ramblings. The Prophet then stood up to look out the window. Hands behind his back and lets out a sigh. "Hey Joe, if you don't mind me asking," the eldest Seed spoke up, wanting to take his brother's coldness off of John. "Why did the 'Voice' deem this woman so damn important apart from the rest of the 'wayward souls' we took in before?" It was already known to Joseph that Jacob didn't believe in the higher power his brother answered to and he didn't expect him to. All Joseph asked from their protector was his loyalty.

Joseph turned back around to face his siblings. All waiting to hear his words. "The Voice has told me this woman would bring about a great upheaval to everything we've worked so hard on if she doesn't see the light and come join our family to help us guide our flock through the Gate into New Eden." A heavy weight was suddenly felt by the Heralds as their leader finished speaking. It usually wasn't so difficult for them to get people to join The Project. Unfortunate people with nowhere else to go were easy to attract when Eden's Gate advertised love and protection to any and everyone. The only price would be their unwavering devotion.

"And by 'upheaval' you mean…?" It was Faith's turn to speak up.

"The deaths of our faithful by the thousands, the destruction of our community, and the…downfall of our family," Joseph finished as he grasped Faith's shoulder warmly as if not to lose her to an unknown future. "So it's crucial we don't dawdle with this. Especially now."

The weight the Heralds felt earlier magnified after the Father's elaboration. "We won't disappoint you, Joseph," John impulsively exclaimed, feeling that last comment was directed at him. He hoped his enthusiasm would make up for his supposed transgression from earlier. He then looked to the other two, expecting them to follow along. They simply nodded. Joseph smiled in appreciation of their loyalty. "I'm sorry if I scared you, but I just needed you all to know how important it is for her to join our family," he explained while getting up to leave the room. The others stood up with him. "If there's nothing else to be discussed, I think I'll see how that garden John mentioned the other day is doing before we start dinner." Happy to get his brother out of the room, John gave a quick "of course" and signaled two of his faithful on standby to accompany their leader in the backyard.

Just as Joseph leaves the room, John exhales. "I'm glad that's over." It was unknown if the other two felt the same, but it was likely that the feeling wasn't mutual.

"So, how are we doin' this?" Jacob asked. "Like Joe said, we can't exactly wait around for her."

"She just needs more convincing," John assured, not letting on what that would entail.

"We can't hurt her or anything," Faith chimed in. "The Father wouldn't like that."

"I know!" he retorted, causing her to make an amused noise at his reaction. "We're just going to have to be smart about this."

We're? Jacob and Faith weren't usually included when it came to recruiting people for the Project, but they weren't going to question anything John was about to suggest. Especially since time was of the essence.

~~~

It looked exactly how it did in the pictures. One story, simple porch with a swing, huge front yard, a garage shed big enough for Rosa, and a field across the road. Ramona didn't know if she should be relieved to have finally made it to her new home or regretful for making such an impulsive decision. How was she going to manage a house like this? She knows it's already furnished, but there were other things she probably should've considered before coming here. A reliable food source, job security, clothing, and--!

"Hey, what's up? Thought I lost you for a second," Sharky exclaimed, waving his hand in front of Ramona's face and interrupting her frantic thoughts. She had forgotten that he was even here, which was kind of bad of her to do since if it wasn't for him, she would still be stuck on the side of the road. "Sorry Sharky. I was just taking it all in," Ramona explained while trying not to get put off by the blue eyes studying her face. "Thank you for doing this for me by the way. You probably had other things to do rather than help me." Sharky rubbed the back of his neck and grinned. "Nah it was nothin'. But to tell you the truth, I was supposed to meet up with my cousin Hurk…" He frowned as he checked his watch. "...two hours ago." Ramona noticed the negative shift in his tone of voice and decided she had taken enough of his time. Most of that time being used to get a new battery, driving back to Rosa to install it, and then following Sharky here.

"Then you should probably get going. You don't want to keep him waiting."

"It's alright. I can help with your bags."

"Do you wanna get out of here?"

An unpleasant memory took hold just after Sharky made his offer. She turned her back. "No. You've done enough. Please leave."

Sharky exhaled noisily through his pursed lips and abruptly took a step backwards away from the woman's sudden coldness. For Ramona, it was already bad enough she had to show some guy she just met where she was going to be living, now he wanted to come inside? Alone with her? No way. "Alright. That's fine. I see where you're gettin' at. I'll go," Sharky complied, sounding dismayed. For a split second, Ramona wanted to turn around to say she had changed her mind. But when she actually did, he was already heading back to his truck. Accepting her missed chance, Ramona trudges on to Rosa to finally unload her. "Hey 'Mona!" She turned her attention to Sharky, who Ramona thought would've left already.

"Welcome to Hope County!" There was that crooked smile again.

And with that, Sharky takes off in his truck leaving Ramona confused about how this guy felt about her. It wasn't too much of a concern, but it was pretty weird for someone to shake off having the cold shoulder being directed at them. Oh well.

~~~

"Mrs. Belmont, I know you're upset, but I don't think we can classify this incident as anything more than a misunderstanding turning into a physical altercation." An older, timid man's voice is heard. "Happens all the time with students."

"Bullshit. This 'misunderstanding' scarred my baby's face because she didn't want some nasty boy putting his hands on her." Ramona then hears the outraged voice of her mother.

"The other student has already claimed in his statement that you're daughter fell after--"

"After he tried to rape her."

Ramona heard a huff of frustration next to her followed by a gentle hand rubbing her back after hearing her mother spit out the accusation. It was the soothing hand of Ramona's father who had let his wife handle the meeting.

"It's gonna be okay Rammy." After hearing her father's words, Ramona turned her head to see his reassuring face.

But she never gets to as Ramona's dream fades to white. She wakes up to an unfamiliar ceiling which gets her heart racing. Ramona shoots up from her laying position and frantically looks around her new home only to realize she fell asleep on the couch. Ramona puts her head in her hands to calm herself, feeling moisture on her palms. It's okay. Waking up to tears in her eyes after having that dream wasn't anything new for her.

You're okay. You're okay.

Ramona's legs wobbled a bit as she stood up to see one of her unpacked bags at her feet. She sighed to herself realizing all the work which still needed to be done. The woman looked at her phone to see that it was almost 10:30 pm, realized she'd napped for way too long, and decided all that would be "next day Ramona's" problem. It was time for bed anyway. Ramona did her usual nighttime hair routine, brushed her teeth, and changed into one of the sets of pajamas she'd brought. Ramona didn't think much of her new bedroom. It was simple and minimally decorated with the essentials. Basically a blank canvas setup for her to project herself on to make this house into a home. Her home. Ramona settled into bed and tried to ignore the slight musty smell the comforter gave off. Maybe she'll finish that dream.

~~~

It was the crack of dawn when Ramona was able to call her parents, letting them know she made it to Hope County okay. But that was after multiple "fine's", "alright's", and "okay's" in response to her mother's light scolding about not calling sooner and her father's repetitive questions about Rosa's condition. Even though she wasn't able to get a full sentence in, hearing her parent's voices soothed Ramona's nerves. Somehow during their conversation, her mother mentioned a letter left somewhere in the house for her to read. Ramona assured her she'd read it later.

The woman was now free to assess what she needed to do for today. The lingering smell of must and her stomach growling suggested her first two tasks of the day. Good thing she remembered the general store in Fall's End. As she combed out her hair, a loud, rapid knocking was heard, startling Ramona. Who could that be? No seriously. Who else knows she's living here besides Sharky? She doubts he'd come back after being on the receiving end of her iciness from yesterday but anything could happen. If it is him, Ramona would just take this as an opportunity to apologize. Something told her Sharky would accept it.

The knocking continued to Ramona's annoyance as she quickly threw on a hoodie while hurrying to the front door. The woman then frowned when she opened the door and saw it was actually John, holding a thick white book under his arm, who decided to drop by. Along with two other men, both wearing white uniforms, who were of course, glaring at her. "Good morning," John greeted, showing off that smile again.

"Uh…good morning to you too?" It was the only thing Ramona could say after believing she wouldn't see this man again anytime soon. "What brings you by?"

John gave out a light chuckle. "I didn't mean to disturb you so early, but I felt it was imperative for you and I to make amends after what happened yesterday," he informed while inching closer to her. "May I come in? I was hoping we could talk some more too."

Ramona held out her hand; palm almost touching her visitor's chest. "You and I are good out here."

"PIease, I must insist. I want to make this right with you."

"And I must insist we're good out here." Ramona closes the door behind her and leans against it to make her point even clearer. "So let's talk."

Why are the men around here so eager to come into my home? John let out a soft sigh and clutched his book. "Alright. Have it your way then." He then signaled his men to step away from them so the two could have some privacy. The men nodded and obeyed without a second thought. "Now let me start off by saying I'm sorry for how…brash I was yesterday at the bar," John offered. "It was shameful of me to make such a bad first impression on you." Despite how obvious it was that John could have other intentions behind this, Ramona could at least hear some remorse in his voice. But she couldn't let her guard down just yet.

"Well John, I appreciate you coming to--."

John casually cuts her off. "I would also like to take this opportunity to properly introduce to you the key to your salvation." He cradled the white hardcover within his forearm, proudly presenting it to Ramona. "Without any distractions." It was titled The Word of Joseph.

There it is.

Ramona wasn't too enthused about having to listen to a possible cult member's spiel about her needing to be "saved." She's still not sure from what exactly. John had hastily mentioned the Collapse yesterday which sparked her curiosity. Ramona nodded, indicating to her guest that he could start. "Eden's Gate is a loving community for lost souls who have been wronged by the world and corrupted by sin," John commenced. "It is our job to cleanse those of their sins in order for them to enter through the Gate after the Collapse so that we can create a new world." Ramona crossed her arms after hearing what sounded like another one of those "it's the end times so give us your money" pitches televangelists like to use. "Is that what you think I am; a 'lost soul'?" Ramona questioned. "What makes you think this? We literally just met yesterday." John tucked the book back under his arm and straightened up the tacky looking jacket he was wearing; preparing for another pitch.

"My older brother Joseph, or The Father as he's lovingly referred to, has recently told my siblings and I you were meant to join our family," John informed, again stepping closer. "A wayward soul looking for a place in the world. Something we could provide for you."

Ramona put her hands on her hips. "Again, I ask. What makes you think that?" she asks, increasingly getting more annoyed.

"Impatient, aren't we?" he commented teasingly. "I saw you were a young woman traveling alone, willing to practically jump into the arms of anyone who looked your way. No matter how unsavory their true intentions were." John's tone darkens at the last part.

Ramona rolled her eyes at his claim. Yes, it was true she impulsively got into a car with a complete stranger, but she didn't have a choice. Plus Sharky respected her boundaries right off the bat when she established them. "I never 'jumped' into anyone's arms. I was offered help and I took it," Ramona retorted. Possibly a little too defensively. "Besides, it's none of your business I'm traveling alone." John took another step closer, causing her to step back. "Actually, we at Eden's Gate make it our business to keep those vulnerable enough from being dragged down into the trenches of sin," John states eerily, his blue gaze momentarily stunning the woman. "And Miss. Fairgrave was willing to do just that." Ramona's ears perked up when he mentioned Mary May.

"What does she have to do with anything?"

"Miss. Fairgrave and I had our…quarrels in the past."

"Quarrels? What happened?"

"She just couldn't accept her brother wanting to be with us. Obviously envious of the close bond he had with the rest of the congregation and tried so desperately to take that happiness away from him."

Ramona was silent; recounting how hateful Mary May was of Peggies and wondering if what John was saying was even true. Probably not.

John continued. "To cope with this, she and her lot spread lies about Eden's Gate to anyone who would believe them."

"Right…So the claim of you using money to get whatever Eden's Gate is doing around legal barriers is not true then?"

With the way John immediately frowned and glowered after the woman's probing question; it was obvious she made a mistake. "I don't mean any harm. I just need to know what--." Ramona's explanation was cut short as John abruptly strides forward to firmly thrust the book against her chest, causing her to be essentially trapped between her guest and the front door hard on her shoulder blades. Causing her to panic. "We do what is necessary to secure the future of Eden's Gate," John said harshly, increasing the pressure on Ramona's chest causing her. "Some may not agree with our methods, but I assure you, Miss. 'Bel-mawn', you will reconsider your ill-conceived notions about us if you take the time to listen." Along with being blindsided by John's sudden ambush, Ramona's blood ran cold when her last name, though mispronounced, fell from John's lips. She had never told him her name and had made it quite clear he didn't deserve to know yesterday. It was doubtful either Mary May or Sharky had told John; especially since she didn't even tell them her last name.

"Who told you my last name?" Ramona demanded, strained and on the verge of having a panic attack.

"This residence's previous owner," John complied. "Your uncle."

James! "How do you know him?" she pressed.

"I didn't personally know him. But a few years ago I paid him and his wife a visit to welcome them to the county and introduce them to Eden's Gate."

Ramona continued staring at him. "Go on."

"Well I couldn't really give a proper introduction due to him interrupting me with stories of his travels which ultimately lead him here. And his wife…spirited…shooed me out saying they weren't interested and they never will be," John reminisced bitterly. Possibly showing a bit of his true self.

Ramona had to fight to keep her face from cracking into a smile at the thought of James and Jackie giving John the runaround to avoid his proselytizing. She almost forgot her current situation. He continued. "But through all that nonsense, your uncle kept bringing up a certain someone. Someone I thought I'd never run into after all this time." John took a moment to caress a loose raven tress belonging to his captive before he got close to her ear.

"His favorite niece; Ramona Octavia Belmont," he chillingly whispered.

Ramona thought nothing of it when she gathered her strength and sent John tumbling backwards off the porch and onto the ground. Her personal space had been violated far enough. After hearing their superior's yelps of pain as he landed, the men rushed to John's aid.

"Brother John! Are you okay!?" one fretted.

"How dare you lay your filthy hands upon our Baptist!?" the other scolded.

"You're unworthy in receiving the Father's Word!" the first one accused.

Ramona remained on the porch, looking down at them heavily panting, only getting more pissed off. "Here, take it then!" the irate woman shouted while throwing John's "gift" near them. "Tell Joseph he's got the wrong woman 'cause I don't want the 'key to my salvation' if it means I have to deal with some creep who doesn't know the meaning of personal space!" Ramona would be lying if she didn't think seeing John flat on his ass in the dirt was amusing, but of course, in a moment of clarity, she realized this was the exact opposite of what she was advised to do. That clarity caused Ramona to almost immediately regret her actions when she realized she could be arrested for this. Even if John was the one who started it. The woman's heart started to pound as she braced for his reaction, but John just sat there hanging his head. Ramona thought about saying something to him but decided against it assuming she'd just make it worse for herself.

"You know Miss. Belmont. All of that…anger you harbor deep inside needs to be cleansed. Which I as your future Baptist will personally see to," John affirmed, ignoring the insult while sporting a wicked, chilling smile. Ramona felt a slight surge of nausea. "The Project has a place for you, especially someone of your profession. A social worker who gives counsel to those in need is someone who'd be perfect for us." Ramona just stood there unimpressed by his shallow praises and also wondering how much James had told this man about her. "If you're offering me a job, I'll have to decline," she dismissed while stepping a few paces forward. One of John's men quickly helped him up while the other scrambled to collect the sullied book from the dusty ground. Both looked hopeful to see him stand up against his assailant. John proceeded to casually dust himself off.

"Are you sure that is a wise decision to make? Financially managing a property of this size might be too much for one woman. Perhaps I could take it off your--," John began.

"No, that's not happening. Besides, it's already paid off," Ramona shot back, taking her turn to interrupt him for a change. "In fact, I have the documents to show for it."

"I bet you do," he responded sourly. "But you are sorely mistaken if you really think material possessions will help you during the Collapse."

"Then what will help, huh?" she challenged, hotly. "Tell me so you can leave already."

To Ramona's surprise, John didn't retort with a quick remark at her prodding. All the man did was signal to his men to hand him the book. The order is followed and John once again presents his gift to Ramona. "Perhaps I'm going about this the wrong way," he states. "I believe you should hear it from the Father himself. He's better at this." The way John said that made it obvious he was getting tired of her too. Ramona looks down at the book. "Huh? I thought I made myself clear I didn't want the--." John held his hand up. "I know. I'm telling you the Father is giving a sermon about the Collapse this Sunday and will be delighted to answer any questions you may have. The address is behind the front cover," he noted earnestly. "But if you choose not to come, will you at least take his Word? I won't bother anymore after today if you do." Ramona sighed and promptly took the book from him, doubting he'd even keep his promise.

"I'll at least think about it. But if I do come to the sermon, it won't mean I'm joining your cult."

"It's not a--! Of course. But every cynic I've met says that at first, but then sees the light after they hear--."

"I mean it! I'm only going for myself and for you to leave me alone."

"So you will be attending?"

"Get off my property!"

While slightly startled by Ramona's outburst, John kept his promise as he and his men made their way back to the white truck they came in. "Farewell Miss. Belmont, I hope to see you this Sunday," John bids. The woman didn't say anything back as she stormed back into her house and slammed the door behind her. Ramona let out a short cry of frustration when she angrily threw the book a few feet away from herself, causing a harsh, loud thud on the wooden floor kicking dust up. She pressed her back against the front door and slid down to the floor when her legs felt weak. Reeling from the ordeal, dizziness and a rapid heart rate from earlier took hold while a ringing noise resonated within her head. Ramona started to feel hot and short of breath, so she clumsily removed her hoodie for supposed relief. But it wasn't enough. The pounding in her chest causes her to curl up on the floor, trembling and hyperventilating. The combinations of these symptoms were all too familiar to Ramona as a quick memory of her alone in her college dorm in the same position flashed in her mind. Despite the pains in her chest and nausea, Ramona forces herself to sit up halfway to regain control.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. He can't hurt you. You are safe now. As Ramona inhaled and exhaled, she thought back to all the times she had to do this exercise to get through the first part of freshman year. She hoped these episodes won't be a common occurrence since Ramona wanted a fresh start, but achieving that seemed impossible now. Although Ramona had told John "no" to joining Eden's Gate and denied their "prophecy," she still made it known her interest was piqued; so it was likely they would still try to convince her. The dulling ache in her chest and decreasing heart rate allowed Ramona to sit up fully and the softening buzzing in her ear and her body stabilizing enabled her to think clearly. Ramona decided it would probably be best to listen to Mary May's advice more carefully and avoid them as much as possible--starting now.

~~~

Finding the way back to Fall's End wasn't difficult. A few left turns and then a left was easy for Ramona to remember which is going to be important since the general store might be her only source for food and other essentials she'll need in the future. After finding an appropriate parking place for Rosa, the woman made her way into the store. She made note of the small size and the Americana decor; hoping the store owner's patriotism was just an aesthetic. To Ramona's surprise, she didn't draw any attention to herself like yesterday. She figured dressing in Hope County-appropriate attire she found in the closet would do that. Thanks Auntie. As Ramona proceeded to fulfill her shopping list of necessities, she overheard two people, a man and a woman dressed in hunting gear, talking a few feet away. Curiosity got the better of her.

"Do you really think we can keep living like this?" the woman asked, sounding stressed. "I don't think I can take any more of this."

"Would you rather we'd live like brainwashed zombies?" the man asked her in turn, using a tone Ramona didn't like. "Our bunker is the only safe place from them taking over."

"I got that. But stocking that bunker is making you and others paranoid about something that may not happen."

"We know what we're doing. You think those Seed-fuckers made their people tote around those guns just for show? We're just looking out for ourselves since the cops aren't doing anything."

Ramona didn't hear the woman's response when she left the aisle and moved on to the dairy section so she wouldn't get caught being nosey. Brainwashing? Guns? This new information about Eden's Gate made Ramona realize it probably had to do with the "illegal shit" Mary May hinted at. Despite not wanting to probe her anymore about uncomfortable topics, Ramona would've appreciated the heads up about a confirmed violent cult who now had their eyes on her. Now she's definitely sure John won't leave her alone and most likely lying about what really happened between him and Mary May.

Back to the task at hand. Ramona reached up to grab vanilla coffee creamer from the top shelf only for her nails to barely brush against it. She internally cursed her height and whoever made this refrigerator. Not wanting to completely give up, she tried again, but failed again when another hand easily grabbed it instead. The owner of the hand was a tall, curvy woman with long dark, curly hair and dark brown eyes which were warm and inviting. She was very pretty.

"Here you go," the woman offered. "This was what you wanted, right?" She was referring to the creamer.

"Yeah it was. Thank you." Ramona acknowledged while accepting the small carton.

"A word of advice. If you're going to be listening to other people's conversations; you should at least do it from somewhere they wouldn't see you," the woman suggested bluntly and flickered her eyes to the side.

Ramona's stomach dropped when she quickly turned her head to see the aforementioned couple, now scowling, rip their gaze away from the two women and shuffled off.

"I'm just telling you from experience."

Ramona couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed of herself. She swore off anything Eden's Gate related, but her curiosity about them kept piquing even though every new piece of information about them just kept getting worse. But then again, any knowledge about the cult would keep Ramona from being ignorant of anything that would pose them as a threat to her. Even if it wasn't coming from a direct source. Anything to not talk to the Seeds again. "Sorry for asking but, do you know anything about Eden's Gate?" she asked, "Also my name is Ramona." The woman pursed her plush lips and loosely crossed her arms under her chest. "Deirdre. I'm a vet at the F.A.N.G. Center in the mountains. I've been living here with my husband and his family for about 10 years, so I...uh….know enough," she divulged tentatively. "They're a doomsday cult preparing for the Collapse. An apocalyptic event." Ramona figured that much on her own. But it was way better than the common "stay away from them" she kept hearing.

"Is there any real way to get them off my back for good?"

"Nope. Since you just moved here, Eden's Gate is not going to leave you alone anytime soon. They love new people."

"Wait, how do you know I just moved here?"

Deirdre frowned and averted her eyes.

"Hey Dee, what's takin' you so long?" Ramona inhaled sharply when she saw the owner of the rough, male voice appear from behind the row of shelves beside them. "Oh. You made a friend." A tall, scarred man with red hair went to stand beside Deirdre, putting his large hand on her shoulder. Combined with Mary May's description and the J. Seed stitched on the sleeve of his camo jacket; she concluded this was Jacob Seed. Ramona made a quick glance at Deirdre. She was still avoiding eye contact. Ramona put two and two together and it all made sense. John probably told Jacob about what happened and probably wanted to take a crack at recruiting the "lost soul". Not to risk straining her neck anymore, Ramona backed up a bit to accommodate her intake of Jacob’s imposing stature. Which wasn’t a bad sight. She definitely didn't lie about the "biggun" and "muscle" part.

"I thought you were waiting outside," Deirdre pointed out crossly.

"I was. But you were takin' too long and folks were givin' me the stink eye. 'Specially that idiot pilot." Jacob stated. He then pointed his gaze at Ramona. "So you're the woman my brother's been talkin' about?"

She sighs. "Yeah. Why? Is it your turn to harass me?" Ramona retorted, suddenly becoming bold. "One of you was bad enough today."

"Heh no. After what happened between you and Johnny, I don't think I wanna tangle with you," he teased. "'Sides, I don't do the door to door shit."

"Then what do you do?"

"All you need to know at the moment is that I keep the congregation safe. And in line."

Remembering the mention of guns earlier, Ramona had a pretty good guess about what that could mean. It wasn't something she wanted to discuss further with him and was grateful he didn't take it upon himself to do so. She looked at Deirdre. She wondered how deep her involvement with Eden's Gate went. If it was beyond being married to one of the brothers. Telling from her tone, Deirdre also didn't seem too interested in discussing anything. Which was also fine. But she could help but be worried. Black women and religious cults run by white men have never been a good match. "I should probably finish up and pay for these," Ramona spoke up, sensing an opportunity to leave. "It was nice talking to you." Deirdre perked up. "I can pay for your groceries if you want," she suggested. "Y'know for your troubles." Jacob made a disapproving face which Deirdre ignored. Ramona thought about what happened between her and John and decided this should make up for it. She accepted the offer.

~~~

"These people act like we're the scum of the earth, but they'll still take our money," Jacob commented, sounding amused. He was referring to the store clerk who gave the group a dirty look while processing the payment. The three were currently outside the general store and Ramona was about to see the couple off. "I guess dressin' up your store like the Fourth of July was really just for show." Deirdre rolled her eyes and saw that Ramona was confused. "The locals here put up American flag stuff to show they're against Eden's Gate," she clarified. "It started happening after the congregation grew." Ramona could tell that wasn't entirely true.

"Hey Dee. How 'bout you wait in the truck while I talk to our friend here before we leave." Deirdre looked between her husband and Ramona and sighed. "Alright." The eldest Seed was mincing his words earlier about his role within Eden's Gate, so what would he possibly want to talk about now. And without his wife present at that. After Deirdre settles herself within the passenger seat of their truck; Jacob leaned his back against it, facing Ramona while crossing his arms.

"While I do think Johnny probably deserved what you did to him this morning, you gotta be smart about who you push away and who you align yourself with."

"What are you talking about? I thought you weren't going to--!"

"Down kitten. I'm just tellin' you this for your own good. Apparently Joe sees somethin' in you and he's usually right."

"Well he's wrong. And Like I told your brother, I'm not meant to join your cult and you can't convince me otherwise!"

"You say that now, but when the time comes, you'll make the right choice."

"Don't count on it."

Despite her stomach twisting in knots, Ramona immediately strode off from Jacob to where Rosa was parked, hearing the couple's truck drive off behind her. She knew people who were involved with cults were self-righteous, but having someone declare what's "good" for her for the second time today was just infuriating. Also frightening. The woman was surprised that Jacob's familiar, intense blue glare and ominous tone he used while practically threatening her didn't put her in another state of panic. Ramona guessed one was enough for today.

Head buzzing with rushing, irritating thoughts, Ramona hastily loaded her car, just eager to get back home. "You okay, Miss?" The woman popped up her head to the sound of another male voice. She saw a man wearing aviators and a shirt with a logo that read Rye & Sons Aviation parked next to her. Aviation? Was this the "idiot" pilot? "That Seed bastard was botherin' you, right?" Ramona let out a sigh and closed the passenger door. She wasn't mad at him or anything; strangers coming up to talk to her when she wasn't in the mood was getting exhausting.

"Unfortunately. Even though this is only my second day here, Eden's Gate has already decided I'm meant to be with them. Whatever that means."

The man furled his lip and shook his head. "That's how they get you," the man started, a rant seemingly brewing. "Damn Peggies make you feel all 'special' when all they really wanted was your plane."

Ramona blinked. "Plane? I don't have a plane?"

"Ah shit! I'm sorry! Got carried away and started talkin' 'bout myself." The man held out his hand. "I'm Nick Rye of Rye and Son's Aviation. I was talkin' 'bout my plane, Carmina."

Ramona, slightly amused at the confusion, shook Nick's hand.

"I heard from Mary May you've already met John. That fucker's been tryin' to get my plane for years after actin' all buddy-buddy and shit with me at first. Them Peggies been harassin' my family so bad my wife Kim, who's smaller than you, had to punch one of 'em. Died down a bit after that and she didn't get in trouble for it."

"I'm sorry you were going through that. Eden's Gate might want my house, but other than that it's just 'me' they want so badly. I don't know what to do."

"Well if I were you, I'd go up to Joseph after one of their sermons and show 'em you mean business."

Ramona didn't quite know what Nick meant, but if it was relating to what his wife did, she's quite sure she won't get away with that. Taking that part out, going straight to the source of her problems seems like something she could work with. Ramona could go to the sermon and hopefully get Joseph to have his brothers to lay off and rethink this whole "prophecy" about her. Of course Ramona would have to figure out the details of this plan so it can be somewhat sound. "Thank you Nick. I'll put some thought into your suggestion." The pilot did a slight smile, noticing a change in her voice from earlier. "Well alright then! Maybe you can come by and I'll give you some flyin' lessons. Carmina's the big yellow one." She froze a bit. "I-I'll think about that too." His smile got bigger. "Great!"

Ramona didn't have the heart to tell Nick she was afraid of heights.

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socially-awkward-skeleton · 1 year

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2 for 1 chapters this time around!!

Chapter 26: The Lord Himself Goes Before You and Will Be With You & Chapter 27: Hope as an Anchor for the Soul, Firm and Secure

Chapters: 27/? Fandom: Far Cry 5, Far Cry (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Female Deputy | Judge/John Seed, Female Deputy | Judge/Jacob Seed, Deputy | Judge/John Seed, Deputy | Judge/Jacob Seed Characters: Deputy | Judge (Far Cry), Female Deputy | Judge (Far Cry), Joseph Seed, Cameron Burke, Earl Whitehorse, Mary May Fairgrave, Nick Rye, Kim Rye, Boomer (Far Cry), Grace Armstrong, Jerome Jeffries, John Seed, Faith Seed, Tracey Lader, Virgil Minkler, Hurk Drubman Jr., Sharky Boshaw, Adelaide Drubman, Joey Hudson, Peaches (Far Cry), Jacob Seed, Staci Pratt, Eli Palmer, Wheaty (Far Cry), Jess Black, Original Male Character(s), Project at Eden's Gate | Peggies, Tammy Barnes Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Religious Cults, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Swearing, Torture, Unhealthy Relationships, Animal Attack, Threats, Threats of Violence, The Seeds are Their Own Warning, Stabbing, Knives, Guns, Shooting, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Hallucinations, Sexual Humor, Sexually Suggestive Dialogue, Kidnapping, Blood and Violence, More Biblical References to Lions Than You Can Shake a Stick at, Trauma, Suicidal Thoughts, Not Canon Compliant, Past Child Abuse, Deputy Joins the Cult, Social Darwinism, Obsession, Flashbacks, Enemies to Lovers, Physical Abuse, Hand Feeding, Smut, Internalized Misogyny, Hurt/Comfort, arrow wounds, Menstruation, Coercion, Manipulation, Bloodplay Summary:

ch. 26 - Kit has a bad reaction to the Bliss and to seeing the angel, and must find some peace in a cabin in the woods

ch. 27 - Kit flies back to the Valley, needing a change of venue from the mountain and the stresses she'd been under

#far cry 5 #fan fiction #jacob seed #mary may fairgrave #jerome jeffries #grace armstrong #joey hudson #oc: kit cross #jacob seed x female deputy #american beasts #chapter 26 #chapter 27

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sonodaten · 2 years

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And Unto You I Bestow

“And in the journey of life, we will live, laugh, love, and cry with no control, or explanation why.”—John Newman feat. Idris Elba, “Revolve”//“No man is an island unto himself.”—John Donne//“What is a legacy? It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see.”—Original Broadway Cast of Hamilton, “The World Was Wide Enough”//“I am the Alpha and the Omega; The Beginning and the End.”—Revelations 22:13//“The first great gift we can bestow upon others is a good example.”—Thomas Morell

I originally drew this as penance to Elysia for good luck on my HoHE draws, and since I managed to get her, her stigmata, her weapon, AND Elf Elysia without having to fish out my wallet, I’d say she enjoyed it even though I finished late! The alternative title for this series is “hits you over the head with how obvious it was the artist was raised catholic” with how much halo imagery I squeezed in here! But I think it was appropriate given what happened in Ch 31 (🥲) and just…everything that’s dropped in terms of info for the game the past few days. Six more years of Honkai? Yeah, I think I can manage that just fine 😂

#honkai impact 3rd #hi3 #elysia #hi3 spoilers #spoilers #Herrscher of Human Ego #daten draws #*hits you over the head with catholic imagery* hahahaha as all things Catholics do I went real subtle with his one #anyway I will now begin writing a million apologies to sushang bc elysia has decimated by funds and I will probably not be able to pull her #unless I decided to fork over some real actual cash :/#and I do not foresee my self esteem dropping that low int he near future :( sorry ma’am #raiden mei #flame chasers

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notascreepyasyouthink · 1 year

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tagged by @bending-sickle to spell my username with music. thank you for tagging me this was fun, here we fuckin go

N- "Nugget" by CAKE

O- "ooh la la" by Run The Jewels

T- "Too Many Puppies" by Primus

A- "Angeles" by Elliott Smith

S- "Space Lion" by SEATBELTS

C- "Ch-Check It Out" by Beastie Boys

R- "Red Right Hand" by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

E- "Everybody Hurts" by R.E.M.

E- "Experiment in Terror" by Henry Mancini

P- "Paparazzi" by Lady Gaga

Y- "You Fucked Up" by Ween

A- "All Apologies" by Nirvana

S- "Survivors Guilt" by Joey Bada$$

Y- "You Think I Ain't Worth A Dollar, But I Feel Like A Millionaire" by Queens of the Stone Age

O- "O Green World" by Gorillaz

U- "Under My Thumb" by The Rolling Stones

T- "Time (Clock Of The Heart)" by Culture Club

H- "Heresy" by Nine Inch Nails

I- "I Can't Go For That (No Can Do)" by Daryl Hall & John Oates

N- "Night Shift" by Siouxsie and the Banshees

K- "Kon Queso" by MF DOOM

i don't feel like linking each song individually so if you wanna listen i made a playlist out of it

i tag @thecardiganslife1995album

#the urge to just put ween songs for every letter #i wanted to give y'all a variety of music so #is this playlist tonal whiplash? absolutely #but these were the songs that first came to mind and i listen to them pretty often #music tag game #Spotify

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hawkinshightigcrs · 2 years

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write a letter to your inner child + i'll tell you what flower you've blossomed into

Barb

a poppy, for remembrance - "through the dancing poppies stole a breeze most softly lulling to my soul." — john keats, endymion (1818), book I, line 565. — you seem to mourn your past, as your inner child has died. you've been through your battles yet still have an immense amount of hope for the future. a yearning for peace of mind is what you have when you try to look for the sparks you've once felt in your life. but remember, you will no longer have to fight or defend yourself after you grow in a field where the vibrance of your petals are commemorated.

Chrissy

a wallflower, quietly standing still - “it takes as much time to build walls sturdy enough for wallflowers like you and me to lean against as it does for us to bloom.” ― ayokunle falomo, thread, this wordweaver must! — you're comfortable with being left alone, yet perhaps there are slivers of empty cracks you wish to fill with joy. staying at the side lines, on the side walk, by the wall... these are all places you are used to being in. you're trying to find a way to grow in other places, farther away from what you've always known. the inner child within seeks to reach further out into the world. perhaps it's scared, has some anxiety, and wishes to cling onto the past... but only time will tell — your beauty is nevertheless a silent and distant sort, lingering.

(I still have no icons for him, I’m so sorry 😪)

Gareth

a dandelion, rapidly growing in the field - “dandelions, like all things in nature are beautiful when you take the time to pay attention to them.” ― june stoyer — your resilience is what's gotten you very far in life. those who have trampled and picked on you made it easier for you to spread your seeds — the bright yellow petals you once had, certainly transformed into white, delicate whispies. They floated away into a distance, only to provide you with new opportunities for you to grow your thoughts, ideas, and feelings in other places— that were perhaps harder for them to reach before. even though you've felt unwanted, you nevertheless continued to thrive where other flowers could not.

Kent

a rose, bold and full of thorns - “but he who dares not grasp the thorn should never crave the rose.” ― anne bronte — you have always been someone who had strong boundaries. your past troubles led you to become someone who needed to protect themselves ― it has been difficult to let people close to you, as your thorns were defense mechanisms to keep you from getting hurt. only those who are able to handle the intensity within you, are capable of holding you. they are willing to do so because they've been hurt before too... so perhaps, your inner child chooses to attract the people who have the vigour and passion you yearn for in this life.

Robin

Rosemary

a hibiscus, with rare and delicate beauty - “...scarlet hibiscus looked too bright for this devastated world.” ― jane wilson-howarth, snowfed waters — you thrive in the warmest conditions, and it helps attract more beauty to your vibrant petals. hummingbirds and butterflies: symbols of healing, joy, and transformation are themes throughout your life, as they find you wherever you are. your brightness and abundance of sweetness allows them to appreciate the life you live — you are a generous giver, selfless, and have a heart full of gold deep down inside. the inner child wants you to continue sharing parts of you to those who deserve it, but be wary of those who suck and drain out all of your energy.

tagged by I actually found this one on my dash!

tagging: @scarednotscary, @edhellfire, @hawkinsnewbie (or any blog of yours you’d like!), @wildcardwheeler, @chivalrites, @bcldecgle, @kamchatkatraitor, @havvkinsqueen, and anyone else interested omg!! ❤️

#Dash Games #Barb Musings #Chrissy Musings #Gareth Musings #Kent Musings #Robin Musings #Rosemary Musings #//btw you guys definitely don't have to do this if you don't want to! <3

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adelaidedrubman · 8 months

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John and Jestiny put on a show for Skylar and Sherri. read here on ao3.

notes: just in time for labor day, the sound of the summer is back! it’s hook, line, and sinker chapter 3 babey. wordcount: 7.3k warnings: per usual, unhealthy relationships out the wazoo. stalking and harassment of past romantic partners (dealt with in a lighthearted manner but called for what it is in text), physical violence and semi graphic threats between present love interests (pre-relationship, but ft. john trying to pretend he’s not turned on about it), general deceit and manipulation, albeit mostly unsuccessful. humane animal death (it’s a fishing fic), weird sexual tension over fish gutting, littering, catchall johnjess warning. catchall my minimal proofreading warning.

“You got the plan down, right?” Jestiny hissed at the man fumbling uselessly with the task of baiting his hook, leaning into the motion of casting her line to inconspicuously shove in front of him and hopefully block the embarrassing display from Sherri and Skylar’s view. “Don’t need me to fuckin’ rehearse it with you again?”

By the time they’d parked the skiff just under the bridge connecting the road nearest Can of Worms Fishing Store with the island directly across from it where her ex-girlfriends were presently fishing, Jessie was beginning to think this entire thing had been a massive, undeniable mistake.

“Yes,” John replied in a whistle through his own gritted teeth style into a grin, harmonized with a twang of his fishing line snapping. “You shouted it in my ear approximately ten times on the drive over.”

He shuffled to her side, batting his eyelashes at her as he cocked his rod clasping hand back. “Dear,” he tacked on, with all the uncanny artificially synthesized saccharinity of a splenda packet.

“Not your line,” she smiled in reply, letting go of the crank of the reel just long enough to reach over and bop the tip of his nose. There was no way she was going to let him actually cast in front of Skylar and Sherri.

A well timed tug on her rod confirmed that luckily she wouldn’t have to — she was able to effectively knock his right arm down as she staggered back to oppose the force pulling against the line.

She briefly darted her eyes to John to ensure was looking back with appropriately visible impressed enthusiasm — and not set to reach for his own rod — before settling her gaze on Skylar and Sherri as she wrangled her catch.

The irritation at their stubborn refusal to look back was mildly assuaged by the sight of big, beautiful golden trout dangling at the end of her line as she yanked it from the water.

“Oh, Jessie dear!”

She resisted shooting another glare at the exclamation — Sherri and Skylar would know damn well she wouldn’t like being called that.

This was definitely a mistake.

“That might be the most impressive catch yet!” At least he was back on script now. “Please, let me have the honor of doing the work of gutting it for you.”

“John,” she chimed bright with gratitude, dropping the fish into his outstretched arms. “That’s such a considerate thing to do for someone!”

She gave a pointed look to Skylar and Sherri.

“Anything for you, my dear.”

She tried not to let tension settle too deeply into her jaw as she forced a grin. “I’ll cast your line for you while you do!”

She made the barest of eye contact with her rod as she threw it out, the vast power of her stare settled on the tattooed hand bringing a knife down to pierce through the fish’s brain with expert precision.

It was a genuine marvel to her how he managed to handle the task with such a natural grace that he seemed a completely different man from the one she’d watched flounder with the simple task of baiting a hook.

If the fingers sliding down the clean, straight, perfectly placed incision along the fish’s underside weren’t branded with the same distinctive black ink, she would have thought they belonged to someone else entirely.

She could almost imagine that he was someone different — someone she respected, even — as she watched his hand disappear into the cavern of the fish’s belly.

The way he found the red knot rooting its spinal cord without delay, squeezing it tightly between his fingers. The way the delicate placement of his grip retained every bit of its exacting care even as his forearm flexed with powerful force to yank the long tether of nerves from the body. The way he remained completely unphased by blood dripping down to splatter atop those stupid, hideously expensive looking loafers. The way his arm flourished with a smooth, dramatic flair he threw the plucked out rope of organs into the water.

“You’re good at that,” she murmured aloud before she even processed her mouth was moving. “I love watching you work,” she added with a deflecting chuckle and wink, forcing herself back into character. “Babe.”

He blinked twice, a hint of genuine surprise seeming to spark through his eyes as he looked up to flash her a satisfied grin.

“You might want to watch your line instead,” he replied with a nod towards her hands. “It looks like you have a bite.”

Jestiny turned forward to see her pole bent to the point of being practically folded in half.

“Fuck!” she screamed as she buckled her knees and yanked her arms back to oppose the fish.

Jesus, this was embarrassing — how the hell had she missed the fish tugging? Had his shitty angling skills somehow infected her? She’d never had a fuck up like that when she was fishing with Sherri and Skylar.

And now, thanks to him, she was making a fool out of herself right in front of them.

Fuck.

So embarrassing.

Her cheeks flushed hot with fresh shame, only swelling as she successfully yanked up a massive largemouth bass.

Fuck. She’d almost let a good one get away.

This wasn’t like her.

This was his fault, somehow.

She should have never agreed to his stupid plan.

This was a mistake.

“What a catch!” the mistake in question cried with equal parts drama and vagueness, clearly lacking the know-how to comment on the specifics of the fish beyond the acknowledgement that it was one. “Would you like me to gut that one, too?”

“She can wait,” Jessie replied, holding the fish up proudly. “Gonna wanna get a picture with her fully intact first. Sure beats that ten pound rainbow trout you caught earlier.”

Listen to her. Even giving false credit for one of her catches. How far had she fallen?

“Just pop open the cooler for me, then grab me some more bait.”

She glanced forward again — Skylar and Sherri were looking now, at least, and she would tell herself they only started once the fish was pulled from the water.

“Of course,” he offered pleasantly, to his credit tipping the cooler up so that the fish crowding it would be visible to her ex-girlfriends across the water. He was better at empty theater than he was at fishing. “All yours.”

She swore she saw Sherri roll her eyes before turning to whisper something to Skylar.

Those bitches. How dare they whisper secrets about her.

Whatever. Moving on.

She swiped the cup bearing a proud ‘Drubman Marina’ logo perhaps a bit too hard from the cupholder, making a show of looking inside it.

“Fuck!” she exclaimed, this time in feigned surprise. “Looks like we fished through all our bait!”

“Fish biting a little too well, today.”

“For some of us,” she replied, looking directly at Skylar and Sherri and the arrow-straight, undisturbed poles of their fishing rods. “But speakin’ of, I do believe that’s the proprietor of Cans of Worms Fishing Store over there with a full cup of bait. Let’s drive this baby over there to give their small business a little economic stimulus, at least.”

“Jessie, do not fucking come over —”

Jestiny cut off Skylar’s shouting with a rev of the motor rumbling to life, idling there as John pulled up the anchor.

She could not so effectively drown out him whispering directly into her ear. “I didn’t say you could drive the boat,” he hissed. “The agreement was you would pretend to drive as we pulled up.”

“I know,” she rasped back with a smile she didn’t have to fake. “I was pretending when I agreed to that. I deceived you. I’m good at that. You need work,” she said with a raise of her eyebrows. “You’re overselling. Make it subtle, don’t ham it up so much.”

“Acting note taken,” he replied, scooching into the seat next to her. “Now give me the —”

She jerked the wheel and slammed her foot on the accelerator — giving it enough gas in the single pump that they were able to coast the distance to Skylar and Sherri’s place on the bank, the bow landing gently in the mud.

“Expert docking, dear,” he commented syrupy sweet as he hurried to swipe the key from the ignition, slipping it onto his wrist.

Possessive, paranoid, materialistic, overdramatic diva.

Guess that explained the key she’d noticed hanging over his heart — must be to an even nearer and dearer expensive toy.

God, she couldn’t wait to fake end their fake relationship.

The sentiment only grew stronger as she watched him carefully tiptoe through the mud with sudden apparent concern over dirtying his already bloodied shoes.

“Ms. Woodhouse,” John held out a hand towards the brunette that was met with nothing but a scowl in return.

He made an apologetic ‘ah’ noise and wiped the hand on his shirt, but Jessie knew it was not the fish guts Sherri was repulsed by.

“My apologies.” He bowed. “I haven’t yet had the privilege of patronizing your little store.” Jessie smiled. Patronizing was right. And Sherri deserved it. She had to admit she could revel in his condescension, when it wasn’t directed at her. “It’s so difficult when I have my own boat ramp right in the backyard to remember to get out there and support the small business owners in the community.”

“Support?” Skylar cut in, scowling even harder than Sherri did. “When have you ever supported any business around here? You call trying to shut everyone down and take their property from ’em support?”

Huh. That’s weird — Skylar seemed to have history with this guy. And it was bad enough he was a lawyer at all, did she fuck up and start pretending to date a fucking foreclosure attorney or something?

John waved the accusation off. “Please, I hate discussing business matters during my recreation time.” He reached into his back pocket to take out his wallet, pulling another hundred dollar bill from it. “I would love to support Can of Worms now.”

He turned to Sherri, gauchely waving the bill in front of her. “I’m afraid my lovely date and I have fished through all of our bait. But it seems you have plenty left. He nodded towards the unopened can at Sherri’s feet. “I’d like to purchase it.”

Sherri met him with a dead-eyed stare. “Store’s closed.”

John turned, looking across the water at the Can of Worms storefront. “Your hours say open until 9.”

“Well, I’m not on the clock.”

“Oh, don’t be unreasonable. I’m paying well above market rate for something I could just waste time going over and buying from you, for much cheaper, in the store.”

“No, you couldn’t,” Skylar said. “Store’s closed.”

He pointed behind him. “I see it open.”

“Store’s always closed to you.”

Jestiny gave up on pretending not to notice the conversation, setting aside her beer to slam her hands down on the side of the boat. “Well, fuckin’ sell it to me, then!”

“God, Jessie,” Sherri groaned, leaning down to hold her head in her hands. “Can’t you just fucking leave us alone? Following us, harassing us while we’re trying to fish? We broke up with you. We don’t want you around.”

“Shit’s sad,” Skylar agreed. “Just stop. Don’t make us get a fuckin’ restraining order or something.”

Jestiny kicked the side of the boat, hard. “They’re called Orders of Protection, in fucking Montana!”

“You learn that from your slimebag lawyer boyfriend?” Skylar asked. Jessie frowned. That was hitting below the belt, she thought. “And did he learn it from law school, or ’cause half the fucking County wants to take one out on his creepy ass?”

Sherri brought a hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh at Skylar’s joke. “They really are perfect for each other, huh?” she giggled against Skylar’s shoulder, setting her chin atop it and looking up at her adoringly.

Jessie felt flames crawl up in her belly. Of all the infuriating insults.

“Yeah, we fucking are! I finally have someone who can keep up with me behind the rod and on an intellectual fuckin’ level!” she forced herself to flash an adoring smile of her own at the man she shouted over. “And he’s got an actual sense of humor! Just look at his outfit!”

John turned to shoot Jessie a glare.

“Yeah,” Skylar laughed, turning to nudge the flyaway hairs clinging to Sherri’s dewy brown skin away with her nose so that she could finally whisper her teasing directly into the brunette’s ear. “Looks like you and I were the only ones that didn’t think to come dressed for the circus.”

“I fucking heard that!” she leaned over the side of the boat to screech, crumpling the styrofoam of the bait cup in her fist and attempting to fling the trash across the distance to Skylar and Sherri — the bits floating down to scatter impotently along the surface of the water instead.

“Jesus, Jessie, a fish is gonna fucking choke on that,” Skylar cried, pushing herself up from her lounge chair.

“And maybe I can’t stop you from driving a boat on public waters, but you can’t litter on my damn property,” Sherri agreed, reaching behind her to pull a net from the pouch on the back of her own chair and toss to Skylar. “That shit drifts to shore.”

Jessie crossed her arms over her chest with a huff, rolling eyes dismissively to duck Skylar and Sherri’s judgmental glares with an earnest wave of shame — she didn’t mean to endanger any poor fish, obviously, she was just angry — instead finding John’s gaze, oddly comforted by the quiet, embarrassed fury she saw simmering back at her, as if the bright blue glitter of his eyes was a temperate pool to reflect her own angry humiliation, unfiltered and undiluted in their vibrant heat.

Then something in his stare sharpened, an almost imperceptible narrowing of the pinpoints of his pupils into focus, gaining all the ice-cold clarity of a glacial pond as he darted his eyes back to where Skylar reached forward to dip the hoop of her net into the water to scoop up the ripped up bits of styrofoam.

“Hi,” John hummed pleasantly as he stepped up to Skylar, placing a hand atop the handle of her net. “John Seed. Do you remember me?”

“The fuck you —”

He slid his hand down the pole of the net, pulling it closer until his fist was circled just beneath the base of its mesh. “I tried to buy bait from you a few moments ago. You refused to sell to me.”

“...Yeah?”

“Big mistake,” he barked with a tug of the net to cause Skylar to stumble slightly, barely catching herself to remain upright. “Big. Huge!” He forced a manic laugh, snatching the net from her hands. “Because perhaps had I been occupied with my own fishing, I wouldn’t have time now to ask if you have a proper permit to fish with a net.”

Sherri stood, moving to stand between John and Skylar, defensively.

“I do my business selling fishing licenses, dumbass,” Sherri grumbled, pulling two crumpled pieces of paper from her back pocket to flash. “You really think I’d come out here without one?”

“Ah.” John clicked his tongue against his teeth twice, wagging his finger and tapping it against the paper Sherri held out. “But I’d like to see your netting license,” he said in sing-song. “A Class A resident fishing license only allows fishing with a hook and line. Netting requires its own permit.”

Sherri and Skylar exchanged confused looks.

“Ha!” Jestiny let out a single, choppy laugh as she hopped over the side of the boat, splashing mud as she landed. “It does.”

It did, when it came to hoop nets. But of course even if he knew the law he wouldn’t know the difference between —

He waved a hand in front of his face, then rested it atop his chest. “Oh, I’m only joking, of course,” he said with a smile, bowing his head. “Montana Code Title 87, Chapter 6, Part 5 Fishing Offenses includes an exception in paragraph (1)(a)(iv) for landing nets.”

Jestiny felt a giddy heat blossom along her cheeks — that was unexpected. He knew the difference between a hoop net and a landing net. He’d actually studied up.

He cocked an eyebrow, smile widening. “For after the fish has been hooked as specified in subsection (1)(a).” He nodded down towards their rods. “And your hooks appear to be bare.”

Skylar placed a hand atop her hip. “We weren’t even fishing with that net,” she said matter-of-factly. “We were just cleaning up the trash your girlfriend threw in the water.”

“That’s not what I saw,” Jessie chirped, throwing her arm around John’s waist and pulling him to her. “And I think the word of two officers of the court is gonna outweigh what y’all say.” Jessie leaned forward, snarling. “I think it certainly gives me probable fucking cause to seize all this shit as fuckin’ evidence of a crime, including the fucking bait,” she snapped. “I think it could mean both y’all forfeiting your fucking fishing licenses as penalty, if this shit gets charged.”

“And I have a feeling it would be,” John purred, turning to the side to beam at Jessie with a thoroughly convincing mimicry of proud adoration as he raked his fingers through her hair. His smile sharpened into a smirk as he turned back to their fellow fishers, hand still stroking up and down the side of Jessie’s neck. “I’m on quite good terms with the County Attorney.” Former prosecutor? Jessie worried in the back of her mind, not letting it distract her from their victory. “I think she’ll be quite concerned with such a flagrant fishing violation committed by a prominent player in the local fishing scene.”

“Good fucking God, Jessie,” Sherri huffed, swiping the can of worms from off the ground and shoving it in Jessie’s hands. “Here. Take the damn bait, since it means that fucking much to you. You win. We’re leaving.”

“Hell yeah you are!” Jessie cheered triumphantly at the pair throwing their tackle boxes into their truck bed. “Don’t let the trout bite you on the way out!” she called after them with a hand cupped at the side of her mouth. “Not that it’s been something you’ve had to worry about so far!”

John threw his head back to laugh on cue at the jab, and Jessie had to admit as truck doors slammed to drown it out that he had something of a theatrical acumen.

She turned to the side and clasped his face between her hands tightly as she grinned up at him in spite of herself.

“That was amazing!” she said in a hushed roar. “I mean, I gotta fuckin’ hand it to ya, that was great, you —”

She bit her lip as she watched him stand taller, a preening lift of his jaw as he basked in the praise. And for some reason she couldn’t summon the appropriate irritation at the vanity.

But as the engine of Skylar’s truck rumbled to life behind her, she nonetheless used the interruption to avoid inflating his ego further whilst keeping up the ruse by pulling him down to press her lips against his and kiss the smug smile away.

He’s good, she thought as he melted against her obligingly with a swift but tender unwinding that felt shockingly natural, draping an arm over her shoulder to reach a hand around to thread in her short crop of hair as he kissed her back.

His other hand rested gently atop one of hers still cupping his cheek, stroking along the leathery ridges of her knuckles as he dropped his jaw to deepen the kiss.

It was so odd, the feeling of kissing him when they were playing at gentleness — the slow drag of the slick underside of his lip shifting up to expose the slight hairline cracks of chapping along its wetted surface, the surprising softness to the tickle of the whiskers of his beard that made her realize how meticulously oiled and groomed it must be, the careful way he mirrored her incremental movements as she finally parted, soft, panting breaths tingling against her skin as he dipped his head to stay leaned into her while allowing her the separation.

“You, uh —” She drew in a sharp breath as she dragged her fingers through his beard, bringing their tips to rest just above his chin. “You knew the difference between a hoop net and a landing net.”

He laughed, warm puffs of breath falling against kiss chafed skin. “It’s defined in the Fish and Wildlife Commission Regulations,” he said, his whisper further softened by the airiness of the deflection. “Keeping up with them actually comes quite in handy, in my line of work.”

Jessie sighed pleasantly, then stiffened just as quickly.

His line of work?

She’d already been concerned about him being a bootlicking landlord lackey or overeducated cop of some kind, could the situation be even worse?

Could he be —

She gulped, dropping her arms and taking a full step away from him this time.

Could he be some kind of in-house counsel for one of the commercial fisheries around here? One of the goddamn slimy corporate lobbyists for those corrupt, greedy bastards?

No, she shook the thought from her mind — she couldn’t entertain such horrible possibilities, and the sudden blare of Skylar laying on the horn as she coasted by would have drowned them out anyways.

“Jessie,” Skylar poked her head out from the driver’s side window to call out. “Can we have a quick, civil word with you?” she asked, punctuated with a pointed look towards John. “Alone?”

All her catastrophizing about her pretend boyfriend’s professional life vanished with the giddy soar of accomplishment — this was it. Clearly Skylar and Sherri had talked about it, and after her impressive showing here today they had accepted what a horrible mistake it had been to ever break up with her in the first place, and were about to beg her to come back.

“Sure.” She drew out the syllable with a nasally whistle, eyebrows raising with expectant understanding. “‘Quick and civil’ is my middle name.”

Jestiny smacked the man beside her on the rear end to dismiss him, shaping her wince at the harsh impact of his uncushioned tailbone against her palm into a playful wink. “Give us a few minutes for girl talk, would’ya?”

He pushed out his bottom lip, giving her a flutter of his eyelashes as he turned to head back towards his boat. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

She wouldn’t — assuming the women were contrite enough, she was sure it would be five minutes flat before she was waving goodbye to him from the back of their truck bed as they all drove away together.

Since he did know how to gut and clean them, she thought she’d let him keep the fish she caught as compensation for his efforts.

“So, what’s on your mind?” she asked once John was sufficiently out of earshot, folding her arms along the window frame and resting her chin atop them to poke her head into the truck. “Need fishing tips?”

“Look, Jessie, I…” Skylar gave her a pained look, drawing in a deep breath. “We talked about it, and… We really don’t want this to be any harder than it has to be, okay?”

Jessie pursed her lips together, crinkling her nose and tensing her cheeks with a pressure she knew would cause dimples to sink endearingly into their rounds. She tried to not to savor the pained expression on Skylar’s face too much, but it was difficult not to indulge in the satisfaction from their begging with tail between their legs for her to take them back.

Sherri nodded in agreement, leaning forward in the passenger’s seat to peer through the window. “We want to work this out.”

Jestiny cocked her head further to the side, cheek resting against her arm. “I’m listening.”

Perhaps she wouldn’t really make them beg, but at least a tearful apology was in order.

“So, even though it’s right by my store, we’re willing to make a deal on this fishing spot.”

Jestiny blinked up at them.

“You can have it Saturday evenings through noon Sunday, and we agree to not come around,” Sherri explained. “Then we’ll take Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and you get Tuesday and Thursday.”

“W-What?”

“It’s more than fair, I think,” Skylar tacked on, giving her a stern look. “Most of all, we don’t want it to be a big fight, anymore.”

“We want to handle everything peacefully,” Sherri said, expression pleading. “And we’re glad you found a new fishing partner, even if it is, well…” She shook her head, flashing a forced smile. “We’re just happy to see you moving on.”

Jessie clicked her teeth together, neck stiffening as she raised her head.

This made no fucking sense.

“Yeah, I mean…” Skylar shrugged, eyes darting over Jestiny’s shoulder. “For what it’s worth, y’all do seem really good together. Right for each other. Better than we ever were for you.”

No fucking sense.

Jessie slapped a hand against the side of the truck, pushing herself off its frame. “Are you fucking kidding me!?”

“Seriously, Jessie?” Skylar deadpanned in reply. “It’s a really fair deal. We’re being nice, after —”

“Nice!” she croaked in mocking tone at piercing volume, throwing a too stiffly splayed hand up to swing through the air in the arc of a goodbye wave before clenching it back into a fist at her side as she stormed away from the truck. “Real fucking nice!”

The tension locked into her shoulders as she stomped through the mud, pinching tight enough it wrapped around to squeeze the cavern of her chest, push stinging bile up to catch and smolder in her throat in a heavy lump.

“How was girl talk, my —”

The arm that tried to reach comfortingly towards her was quickly pushed away — fingers curling the soft leather cord of his key chain as she yanked it from his wrist.

The polite clearing of his throat rumbled in synch with the motor roaring to life as she jabbed the key into the ignition and cranked it to the right.

“My dear, how was —”

“We’re leaving!” she shouted over the harsh rattle of gas pumping through the motor to spin its blades, shoving the gear shift into reverse as she slammed her foot on the accelerator.

“H-Hang on, let’s —”

“We’re leaving now!”

She jerked the wheel sharply to the left once she’d put space between the bow and the riverbank, leaving John flailing over the side to hurry to hoist the anchor.

“Very well,” he ground out, loud enough to pierce over the racket. “But I’m driving the —”

She shoved the gearshift forward and stomped down on the gas again, sending them lurching forward with a bounce of the bow towards the sky.

She barely even noticed the sudden, heavy pressure of something falling in her lap, the man at her side losing his balance and stumbling to land with chest atop her thighs.

She rolled eyes that had begun to water from the wind cutting against them as the boat zipped along.

“Those assholes,” she cursed, tightening the grip of her fingers around the wheel until they grew numb. “How dare they. How —”

How dare they do what, exactly? her brain struggled to piece together as wind whistled in her ears harsher as the boat quickly gained speed, gliding over waves growing steeper from the force of her wake. “How dare they think they can just buy me off like that! Do they think — think this is just about a fishing spot?”

“Well,” John spat, heel of his hand smashing against her thigh as he tried to push himself up in the brief of lull of the boat’s course evening out as Jestiny weaved them between jutting mudbanks to an open stretch of water, slamming the gas down harder upon clearing them. “Isn’t it?!”

“Oh, fuck you, too!” she shouted down at him, jabbing her elbow at his collarbone to shove him away, off her lap and onto the floor. “This is about the fucking principle of the matter,” she hissed, wagging a finger at him on beat with the forceful up and down bobs of the boat along choppier waters.

“This is about fuckin’ fairness, and justice, and getting what’s owed to me for the months I put up with their shit!” She briefly glanced up as she continued talking, distant greenish brown blurs of oncoming land fading from her line of sight as quickly as it popped up over the horizon, another jerk of the steering wheel bringing her to a wide expanse of clear, glittering lake.

Good, she needed to do nothing but sail fast and directionless enough to outrun her thoughts for a while.

“After all that they’re treating this like a fucking scheduling issue, when they should be —”

Should be what? She choked on a particularly strong gust of wind, stinging her chapped and sunbaked cheeks as it whipped against her face, a matching burn rising in her throat. Apologizing? Begging? Taking it all back?

She gritted her teeth tightly to steel against the wind as she continued. “They have the fuckin’ gall to act like they’re the ones being nice about this, when they can’t even —” She clenched and ground her jaw. “It’s a public shore! Sherri doesn’t own it, just because her store is nearby and it’s fucking convenient for them! They never even had a right to —”

“You need to slow down!”

She pushed away the arm reaching for the steering wheel. “I’m fucking talkin’ at a perfectly fuckin’ measured and goddamn coherent pace! If you can’t keep up, that’s —”

“The boat!” he screamed, fingers clawing and pulling at her arm without managing to get it to budge. “You need to slow down the —”

Sudden warmth slung itself along the tops of her thighs — a glistening mix of blood and saliva spurting from his mouth as his jaw crashed against the glossy wood of the dash.

And the air filling her lungs to feed the complaining shout building in her chest was knocked from her just as quickly by the heavy impact of his torso crashing against her as he was flung back — landing in her lap for the briefest heartbeat before they were both sent flying over the captain’s seat and tumbling along the length of the boat as its bow tipped upward and the smooth coast of water along its hull was replaced by a harsh, violent scraping.

The pressure of his body weight only intensified, now fully pressed against her to pin her down back flat against the backrest of the row of seats at the stern — which now ran almost parallel to the ground from the angle the boat had landed.

She grunted, trying to wriggle out from under his weight at least enough to free her arms and push him off entirely — the effort proving unsuccessful, his body staying pressed flush against her even as the vast expanse of tangerine marbled sky stretching out above her became blocked by his head, lifted so the scowl twisting onto his face could show.

She shoved the heel of her hand against his chest, gripping his shirt and pulling when he failed to budge. “Get the fuck off me!”

The angry curl of his upper lip deepened, head jutting forward until their noses were pressed together. A droplet of blood fell from his mouth to land with sudden heat on her chin. “You crashed my boat.”

“No shit!” she spat back, butting her forehead against his. “You shouldn’t have been fucking distracting me!”

His brow twitched, his body tensing further. “You crashed. My. Boat!”

“And did you get some kinda fuckin’ head injury during it or something?!” she barked. “The boat crashed —”

“You crashed —”

“— you have sufficiently fuckin’ established that.” She shoved her hand harder against his collarbone, digging her nails into the mass of his shoulder. “So how about instead of sitting around goin’ off like a broken record you get the fuck off me and help me shove this thing back into the water? I’ll even give you the honor of driving the piece of junk back to the marina, since you have such a minnow up your ass about me doing it.”

“Oh, and wouldn’t I love to,” he hissed out through tightly gritted teeth, lips twisting into a smile leagues removed in its exaggerated pleasantry from the bitterness of his tone and the rage in his eyes.

His smile dropped — a swift movement of his arm breaking her grip on him as he pulled it towards his chest, then shot the hand forward to bury in short strands of copper and grab a fistful. His palm settled cradling the side of her skull as he jerked her head towards him by the grip on her hair, then slammed it back down against the seat cushion at an angle that caused her neck to twist so her head was turned towards the side and at the edge of the backrest as she landed, forcing her to look over the back side of the boat to the motor.

“Had you not certainly managed to damage it beyond the point of being able to cross a puddle!”

She paused only briefly to take in through narrowed eyelids the sight of mangled propeller he’d directed her gaze towards, a sleek black and silver blossom of twisted and dented metal, one of its petals bent so far back by the force it looked plucked clean from the stem. The second outboard was absent from the boat entirely, just barely peeking up past the waterline at the base of the short cliffs they’d landed atop.

She flicked her glare towards the hand buried in her hair, then back up to his face so she could savor the wince of pain in his eyes as her boot made contact with the side of his stomach to kick him off.

She scrambled to her knees to grab him by the shoulders and slam his back against the ledge of the stern, climbing atop his chest and pushing him back further until his head hung off the side, neck nestled between the shiny metal blades of the propeller.

She replicated the force he’d exerted against her, pulling gel-stiffened locks from their place plastered against his skull to shove his head back and sideways until the edge of the twisted propeller blade dug into the delicate skin of his neck. “I bet it still runs good enough I could start up the engine and lob your head clean off your fucking body right now!”

She watched pink crawl up the stretched column of his neck and settle deep into his cheeks, blood rushing to his head from the angle. She felt his chest tense beneath her as his hands reached out to grip her hips, heard the rustling of his adjusting his legs behind her — certain he was readying himself to push her off and retaliate.

She elbowed away the arm reaching towards her hip before he had the chance, settling for the sufficiency of her threat and hopping up before he could strike.

She jumped down from the boat to stand atop the rocks and survey the landscape, scanning along the rocky coastline, the peaks of mountains and the sharp points of pine trees standing in backdrop past the vast expanse of sunset sparkling water. Her eyes traced the outline of the suspension bridge running roughly parallel to the shore, which Skylar and Sherri would likely be zipping across on their drive from Can of Worms back to Skylar’s trailer up in the mountains right about now. It was too vast and treacherous a distance of lake to attempt to swim across, especially in the creeping darkness, and the only other land in reach were the smaller, even less likely to be inhabited islands.

“We landed at that big ass fucking island that blocks off the lake from the West,” she announced, dragging a knuckle along her chin as she thought, smearing away the droplet of blood she’d forgotten had settled there. “About three-quarters north ways into it, I’d say.”

She spared a glance to the man still in the upturned boat behind her, fidgeting and pulling down at the hem of his now thoroughly dirtied shirt as he rose to stand.

She sighed, briefly reaching into her pocket to check with a sense of predetermined defeat the display screen of her cellphone, confirming a thick circle around a diagonal line greeted her positioned at the service strength icon.

“We can keep hiking north, along the coastline,” she said resolutely. “We’ll hit the main road eventually, and we can hitchhike along it. Worst case scenario if no one picks us up, there’s a little general store on the other side of the water. If we get started now, we might make it before they close up shop.”

“Hitchhiking?” he repeated, weighed heavy with incredulity. “No, absolutely not. This isn’t exactly the place for —”

“Jesus,” she interrupted, rolling her eyes. “Look, I know you just lost one of your favorite toys, but we don’t have time for you to be a spoiled fuckin’ brat about how we’re getting out of here, too. It ain’t exactly my favorite pastime neither, but those of us born with mouths empty of silver fucking spoons know that sometimes you gotta do things that are —”

“If you could stop talking down to me long enough to listen, perhaps you’d understand that I’m not protesting because I think it’s beneath me. I’m… familiar with this island, actually.”

Jestiny rolled her eyes. Was there a thing on earth he wouldn’t find a way to brag about?

“And I can tell you, there isn’t going to be enough traffic along the road for hitchhiking to be a reliable bet.”

“Great!” she barked, pushing past him to reach for her now well dented tackle box. “All the more reason to haul ass towards Old Sun Outfitters before closing time.”

“They’re closed already,” he deadpanned in reply. “Permanently. The owner and his family of si —” John cleared his throat, with a quick, hard blink, as if needing to abruptly shift his train of thought. “They shut down. I doubt there’s even a working payphone around there, anymore.”

Jessie paused to study his expression, to scrutinize the strange, sudden dodginess behind the unnaturally soft smile and relaxed eyes.

He was clearly hiding something. Had Old Sun really shut down? She’d only stopped by there a couple of times to pick up bait, and she couldn’t say she went recently enough to know, or often enough to keep track of their business.

And how would he know, anyways? Was he —

Her breath hitched, that same chilling, nauseating prospect bubbling back to the surface.

Was he a foreclosure attorney?

“But if we keep going west and cross the main road, there’s actually a —” he paused, the fluid wave of his hand continuing on beat as he stared on silent and searching for words. “...residential area, on the other side of the island. Closer than the rundown general store, and actually occupied. I know a place there we can shelter for the night. And some of my associates will be stopping by anyways tomorrow morning, and can drive us back to the Marina first thing.”

Knowing the zoning for a place he didn’t live? Having associates in the area?

Jessie gulped. This did not bode well.

“No fucking way am I gonna go wandering into the woods at sundown with a fucking creep like you. And I’m sure as hell not joining you for a fucking sleepover.”

“Oh, please,” he scoffed, throwing arms up into the air. “I could just as easily drown you under the cover of darkness during the little moonlit stroll along the coast you’ve proposed, were homicide my goal.”

“Yeah?” she goaded with a raise of her brows. “And I could avoid the fuckin’ risk altogether by bashing your head open against these rocks, and selling whatever good samaritan I finally flag down a sob story about how my poor boyfriend just died in a boating accident.”

“Oh, and how delicious and satisfying it would be to spend my final breaths watching you stumble helplessly lost through the woods, not finding another soul, until you finally collapsed from exhaustion and joined me in death.”

“I would fuckin’ carve out your eyes and throw them in the lake first, so that the only thing you’d ever see of me again is my fishing hook when I came back here to catch whatever trout had the bad luck of eating you.”

“Would you?” he gasped, with an unbothered, wild smile and a hand drawn to his chest. He pushed out his bottom lip so that his smile fell, clicking his tongue against his teeth and pinching his brow with feigned pity as he patted his pocket and added in taunting sing-song, “Because I still have your fishing knife.”

She felt her jaw tense and her eyes bulge angrily, waving her arm as she stomped away to preserve whatever image she could of being unbothered by the revelation.

“Keep it!” she shouted as she turned on her heels, beginning to stomp her way north in as steady of a march as she could keep atop the uneven rock. “I’ll walk my way back to the mainland alone, and you can fuck off into the woods!”

“Oh, don’t be foolish!” John called after her. “It’s better that we stick together, you can at least be reasonable enough to see that.”

“Sure fuckin’ can’t!” she shouted over her shoulder. “I’m following the road, whether you’re with me or not!”

He huffed, impatient and petulant, stomping forward a few paces without properly committing to following after. “Would you just listen? You’re not going to find anyone to help, it’s —”

Still, it was enough to let her know it was a bluff, and he’d be following along whatever path she chose. “At least I’ll be alone!”

“Which is dangerous!” he bellowed after. “Jessie, will you please just follow me into the occupied part of the island? For fuck’s sake, do you even have bear spray?”

“Nope,” she chirped pleasantly, pausing a beat at the word ‘please.’ “I’ll take my chances!”

“For the love of —” She picked her pace back up. “Wait!” His footsteps thudded more quickly behind her, and the arm swinging back with her upbeat gait was caught at the wrist by his hand. He let out a long, exasperated sigh.

“There’s a very secluded little stream on this island, out by the abandoned mill,” he explained with a renewed slow, measured calmness. “Not many people know about it, and hardly anyone is ever there. But I have it on good authority it’s an excellent place to catch rainbow trout.” He released his grip on her wrist, as if testing her willingness to stay in place without the force. “I could show you where it is — and see to it the few other people who know about it make themselves scarce from here on, if you’ll follow me to make camp for the night.”

Jestiny clenched her jaw tightly enough she thought her teeth might crack as she paused there, considering.

She knew bait when she saw it.

He was a devious, manipulative, conniving bastard trying to lure her in with cheap tricks she was too smart to fall for.

Biting now would be yet another huge mistake, and she was above that.

She drew in a deep breath.

“Lead the way.”

#and everyone ignore the wrong chapter number on the banner when i first posted. that didn't happen you're crazy.#fic: hook‚ line‚ and sinker #writies and wordies #otp: stop bothering these nice folks #oc: deputy jestiny ellen #ch: john seed

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redreart · 1 year

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John's Prayer

#fc5 john seed #far cry fanart #far cry art #far cry 5 art #far cry 5 #fc5 #john seed #john seed art #far cry 5 john seed #ch: john seed #my art

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stateofsport211 · 2 months

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Kigali 1 Ch D R1: Pruchya Isaro/Christopher Rungkat def. Aziz Ouakaa/Kelsey Stevenson [1] 6-4, 6-4 Match Recap

Pruchya Isaro/Christopher Rungkat's point to 3-3* 0-15 (left) and to take the first set 6-4 (right) (📸 ATP official website)

Meanwhile, in Kigali 1...

The action started with a doubles match between first seeds, Aziz Ouakaa/Kelsey Stevenson, and Pruchya Isaro/Christopher Rungkat, the latter who won the doubles sector in last week (Feb 21)'s iteration of the M15 Nakhon Si Thammarat. Knowing both pairs, this could be a tricky affair for the latter pair, who might have appeared in-form and more clinical in some crucial points.

It took six consecutive holds before P. Isaro/Rungkat came up with a successful smash to set themselves one point ahead, all the way before they broke to 4-3. However, they had to face an initial break point due to an unforced error, which was saved through an unreturned serve from P. Isaro. Somehow, a serve from P. Isaro was thought to be a let from A. Ouakaa/K. Stevenson, which prompted the supervisor to be called.

Eventually, the said chaos was resolved, and somehow P. Isaro/C. Rungkat ended up holding the said game to 5-3. A. Ouakaa/K. Stevenson then held their serves afterward, and there came the opportunity for P. Isaro/C. Rungkat to serve for the first set, which they snatched to 6-4 to set themselves a set ahead in this match.

Pruchya Isaro/Christopher Rungkat's point to 2-1* 15-30 (top left), to break 3-1 (top right), and to take the second set 6-4 (📸 🎥 ATP official website)

It took three consecutive holds before P. Isaro/Rungkat started to put more pressure on A. Ouakaa/K. Stevenson. After coming up with a smash to secure their one-point lead, they then had a break point, which was converted thanks to C. Rungkat's timely volley to 3-1. Since then, P. Isaro/Rungkat held their serves, and had not looked back since.

It took moments until A. Ouakaa/K. Stevenson held their serves to 5-4 for the unseeded pair to serve for the match. Without any further hesitation, they took the second set 6-4 over an unreturned serve, thus securing them a quarterfinal spot, where they will get the winner between wild card the Lock brothers (Benjamin/Courtney John) and Ivan Denisov/Leonid Sheyngezikht, whose match is still ongoing as this was written.

#atp world tour #atp tour #atp challenger #atp challenger tour #tennis updates #hot shots #break point #set point #match point #match recap #kigali 1 challenger #rwanda challenger #aziz ouakaa #kelsey stevenson #christopher rungkat #pruchya isaro #WatchChallengersFolks #ChallengerMatters #WatchMoreDOUBLES

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reddogf13 · 5 months

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Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 6

Also on A03

Status: Incomplete

Rated: M - Dead Dove Do Not Eat This takes place in the Outlast 2 universe after all, Blood and Gore, Child abuse, Sexual abuse of children & adults, Child killings, religious trauma, Torture and abuse both physical and mental.

Previous chap: Ch: 5 Deluge

Next chap: Ch: 7 Badlands

_____________________________________

~Ch: 6 Apothecary~

Without any more incidents they traveled across the mountains. Rain poured down on them the whole time causing fear of more mudslides until they reached sparser areas of the forest. Taking in the view of the land off the last mountain peak they were to climb over. Temple Gate couldn't be seen, but ahead they saw the outside town. Surrounded by nothing much but open scrub land. Its space easier to cross between the mud than when in the forest. Rushing themselves to make it in time they reached its edge by sun down.

Blake spoke to John and Marta. “You two stay here. I don't want too much attention on us.” mainly Marta, but he didn't want to leave her alone. Pushing forward with Jacob and James to find some farming supplier first before closing. Basics for survival were priority on the list. Making a deal on a used, but good hauling truck he convinced the seller to take cash, no questions asked or involving any paperwork. Loading that same truck with bags of seeds James looked over. Down some aisles Blake was grabbing tools by the arm full. Noticing shelf's holding packages of water testing kits. Shoving a bunch of those into carts to test the lake when they returned. He'd know for sure then what was safe to drink or not. Moving next to the gas station they bought a fuel tank they strapped down to the back. The bags of seeds helped to secure it. Although Blake was terrified of the journey back now. Imagining the whole fuel tank rolling off down a mountain or slamming into the front and leaking.

“How much you think this will last us?” Blake asked Jacob in terms of fuel. Following him onward to the doctors office.

“Six days if you reconnect everything. Twice if you leave disconnections. Good enough I say, but we can take a second trip w-w-with the truck if we wanna.”

“That's it? I thought it'd get us closer to a month.”

“I told you, to haul a week's worth back you'll need a truck. Temple Gates generator needs 2,208 gallons to fill it. That would last us little over a month with e-e-everything plugged in.”

“Shit, a truck ain't enough. Need a goddamn tanker to bring that much back.”

“Mmhm, you can see why Knoth only had us buying this much now and again.”

“You can drive, right? Check out another truck for fuel, go back to grab more cash when this is done. Then drive back to buy and load up.”

“You think you got enough for that? Gas itself will be the k-k-killer on cost.”

“Think so. That fat bastard has so much stashed away.”

“We heard he got money from some loyal f-f-followers from the outside, but only ever saw what he gave.”

“He's got followers on the outside too?”

“Not any more. Before Temple Gate he taught us some people were after him and destroyed the last place. A l-l-lady who gave him a ranch to preach on. She gave him the money to run everything. M-m-must've grabbed it before he ran.”

“Sounds right.” The two headed into a small white office to the front. A lone clerk at the front smoking a cig dress in white baggy clothes and a few gold chains around his neck. Soon as the clerk saw Jacob a huge grin stretched across his face. Taking the cigarette out of his mouth. “Aww shit, if it ain't one of those righteous followers. Haven't seen you in a while, where's the rest of your posse?”

“Gone, here to fill out-” Pulling out the branded patch that was waved right off.

“Yeah yeah, don't need to show me that thing every time. What's with those two?” Waving to Blake and James.

“New travelers.”

Pointing to Blake in particular. “He don't look like one of you.”

Blake gave a crooked smile. “New to the cause.” Unwilling to explain his whole situation up to now.

He eyed Blake suspiciously. “How so? That town out there don't like new faces moving in.”

He took a deep breath to lower his growing annoyance. “Like you, I don't want a lot of questions. Old management got a sudden retirement of six feet under from me and now I'm running things.”

“Mm, I gotchu Mr. manager. I'll fill out your prescription.” Putting the cig back in his mouth he stood to head for the back.

Being stopped by Blake. “I'd actually like an appointment with the doctor. I need to change my prescription.”

“Mm.” The clerk blew out a cloud. “Doctor don't like sudden prescription changes. Unless it sounds urgent enough for him.”

“It is. My prescription isn't lasting long enough. I need a couple refills.” Removing his bag to show the bricks of cash inside.

“Oh yeah, that definitely sounds urgent enough for the doctor. Lemme set you up an appointment.” Disappearing into the back for a few minutes before returning. “Aight, doctor will see you now, but only you two. Third boys gotta stay out. Doctors in the office end of the hall. Don't go nowhere else.”

Doing as they were told they headed into the back office. James sitting behind in the waiting room. Blake and Jacob were greeted by the doctor dressed far more professional than his clerk. Balding with thick black rimmed glasses dressed in a white coat over a dark vest and red tie. Having a gold right canine in front of where another tooth was missing in the back. “Nice to see you again. My clerk told me things were different back at the church. That why you haven't been back for your prescription?”

“Yes.”

He faced Blake. “Then you're the new patient I'll be treating from now on?”

“Yes.”

“Good, my name is Dr. Luke and I'll be taking care of your needs. your name?”

“Blake.” glancing down at the doctor's gold desk plaque. “Not going by your last name doctor?”

“Prefer not with anybody honestly. Forget bad apples, my family's a whole rotten orchard.” He laughed. “Nice to meet you, now onto business. You wanted a change on the usual order?”

“I need the same thing, but a shit ton more.”

“How much more? A bag of bottles?”

“No, I mean like crates. I need crates of this stuff to help a whole town's worth.”

“Goddamn son, what was old management doing out there?”

“Can you get that much?”

“Of course I can. It's all about cost and whether you can pay it.” He pulled a calculator from his desk. “Roughly, how many you think are sick? And when do you want these crates?”

“Let's say 200, soon as possible. Town needed this years ago.”

“That'll hike the price to the extremes.” Typing in numbers. “Okay, for a single crate of 200 bottles. 40 pills each. Adding on a delivery within this week. It'll cost you $83,000 per crate delivery.”

“FUCKING HELL! It's not that much!”

“This covers everything from pills, shipment, bribes to pass it through the red tape. Insurance that you're getting the real thing and not sugar placebos.”

“And profit.”

“Heh, that too.” He grinned.

“Lower it.”

“What? I can't do that.”

“Yes you can, it's not that much.”

“Of course it is.” The doctor laughed. “What do you kno-”

Blake grabbed onto the doctor's coat to yank him across the desk. “I'm a fucking reporter! You know how many drug cases I had to follow. How many officers I know and interviewed on this stuff. I could walk into a police station right now and have your ass arrested in minutes!”

“Of fucking what? They can't arrest me on the words of some crazy cult.” Attempts to free himself of Blake's grasp halted by the next threat.

“After all the ungodly stuff I've seen. If I can't get those meds then there's no point in keeping you around. I will skin you right here and now on this desk.”

“Okay, okay!” Luke pacified Blake's deadly rage. “Best I can do is $42,000.” Sitting back in his chair when let go.

“Better. I don't have enough cash on me right now. Can I put down a deposit to get the order going and tomorrow afternoon I can pay you the rest?”

“How much you got on you?”

“$13,670.” Setting the bag in front of him.

“I'll need to count it. If it's at least that It'll work.” Gathering up the still damp bill stacks. Each of them startled back by the door rammed down.

“Marta?!” Blake surprised by her appearance. “Why'd you do that?!” He motioned at the door off its hinges.

A nervous James behind her. “Heard a lot of yelling and banging around. So I fetched her.” the doctor's clerk glaring from down the hall.

He sighed. “Everything's fine.” Turning to the doctor. “Sorry about that, I'll pay for the door.”

Luke didn't answer, stuck squinting up at Marta.

Which agitated her greatly. “What?” She snapped.

“Your neck, never seen wire embedded into people. Neglected dogs at most when their collars got too small.”

Blake took a look at the wound. Her skin already growing over it. Its sight made Blake feel a phantom pain around his own. Should get that taken care of. “Can you treat it?”

“Yes, those college papers on the wall aren't fake believe it or not. Was easier to have a real business made, but prescriptions is where the real money is.” Snickering about it. “Let's head down to the actual office.”

Marta got the wires cut free from her neck. Needing Blake to repeatedly tell her everything was okay. Left behind were two large rings that would eventually scar. Soaked in a cleansing solution before being wrapped. Reminded again what the doctor gave her was safe. A shot of antibiotics and one for tetanus. Her ankle looked at next. A dislocation that was fixed by a loud snap back into place. Reaching the limit of her patience it was left unwrapped. Told that she should expect to walk normal again in a few months. Doctor checking next on Blake who was covered in twice as many wounds. From holes in his hands, a still bleeding gash on his head, his stabbed leg being the big ones.

“Whoever packed your leg did a good job. Bleeding stopped without any inflammation.” Luke commented after washing out the gash. Giving Blake the same shots he gave Marta. Everything else cleaned and properly bandaged. Blake noted to himself that they still needed a lot more supplies. Battery's, food, bandages and definitely more fuel. Rubbing his face by the time they left the doctors place. Grouped back at the truck.

“S-s-should we start driving back now or in the morning?”

“Morning, when we can see the forest. I don't want to rough it off road in the night. Stay here, I'm going to buy us some fresh food.” Leaving to a nearby diner he saw staying open. Putting in an order of burgers with cups of water. Using the last bit of money on him he pulled from his back pocket. Happy to return with something hot and not from a can. “It's not steak, but I think you'll like it.” Passing a take out tray to Jacob. The small traveling group enjoying the finer meal before going to bed. Sleeping in the truck or by a campfire nearby.

Traveling back first thing in the morning was nerve wracking. Traversing rough terrain with a full load shifting back and forth. Threading it through trees at an angle that could have sent them rolling down if a tire slipped. Patches of old driven paths gave a moment to relax before the next rough patch. Blake gave himself another task of building a road. Driving into Temple Gate earned them a lot of looks. Seeing who it was stepping out, people returned to their daily tasks. Farming supplies all dropped off for James to start. Gathering up more people to ready the fields. Gas emptied into the generator stuttering itself dead when they came. Disconnected set back onto the power grid. More money collected for a second trip to the outside. This time only between Jacob and Blake. Marta placed back on patrol, refusing to rest after her ankle was set back. John headed out with his son to catch more food. Temple Gate, managing well on its own, was able to gather enough for soup again. The Voltaire's had stayed away, purely focusing on the traveling party was Blake's guess.

Their next visit to the outside didn't last nearly as long. Meds were paid off, trucks loaded up with a variety of fresh canned foods. First aid kits of all kinds along with boxes of batteries. Taking up a short tanker truck to properly haul gas. The amount he spent that day would have had his past self die of a heart attack. Traveling back was a whole other mission with the tanker. They couldn't just off road it like the truck. Taking up the goal to carve a road earlier than first planned. Logs chopped just enough to pass through. Boulders chained and pulled from the earth out of the way. Threading a few trees they couldn't do anything with.

“Okay, this better fill the generator for the month. Because I'm not doing this again anytime soon.” Blake mentioned to Jacob after parking by the generator.

“Should do it.”

“Should have bought a plane. It'd be easier to air drop supplies.” joking to himself. “But I sure as hell ain't flying in it.” Checking in on how the town was doing. A lot of buildings fixed up to at least be stable for living. With how ramshackle some were he wanted to improve them into actual homes, from their current shack made of scraps. Is there a carpenter around here? Searching to ask Marta if she knew anyone who fit.

“Liam was a builder.” she pointed to someone.

Another older man with a head full of gray hair. One of his eyes permanently shut from a crushed socket done long ago. Him and Blake talked it out on what was needed. Wood was the first major thing. Given the permission to clear trees from what would be their road to the outside. Solving two things in one. Liam was given a group of workers for assistance and as apprentices for future needs. Blake, being run down these past few days, went back to his storage room for much needed rest. Time disappeared to the next day for further planning on how the town was managed. Gathering the kits he bought to test the water for everything imaginable at separate points. As James told him before, the upper river rapids were perfectly safe. The lake itself not so much with its high mercury levels and the southern river shouldn't have anyone going near it. Being the main end of the mine's old runoff. Testing the few wells in town he was happily surprised to find them safe. Passing along that news to the whole town.

Taking more pills he stared down at the bottle in hand. How to get in and out? Tackling the quarantine area. They should be helped like everyone else was. Last time I was shot at, buried and almost eaten. I need some armor before I go in. Even if Nick and Laird are dead, someone else could have picked up the crossbow by now. … And those who've been sick far too long. … Should I go back to town on my own? Tell the government about everything? What would happen to them? If the law saw all the crimes committed here would any of them not be put in jail? Some kept a clear enough head to know what was going on, but had no choice if they wanted to survive. Law may not care too much about that. People won't react well to strangers coming in. especially the Voltaire's. That'll be a massacre in the woods for sure. As for the land itself, its occupation is completely illegal. Everyone would be immediately evicted, and then what? None of them can survive the outside. No street smarts or a shred of paperwork to get help. No, best not hand the reins over to the government. Tossing that idea away.

I enter quarantine, then what? Convince them I'm there to save them, this time, as long as they don't eat me. Hand out pills to those who can still take them. Others … Could I decide? … Leaving them would be cruel and the meds can't take back the years of organ damage. Rubbing his eyes of a developing headache. Really living up to my angel of death moniker. I shouldn't force them to stay in that death camp. That place needs to be burned down for sterilization. New place should be built where they can be watched and treated. Move them there after giving pills. Wait it out then reintroduce them into Temple Gate. Shoving the pills away to go find a length of barbed wire. Inspecting how thick the entwined sections were. I think this should be enough. I got a week to bend this down into something usable.

“Sir.” A woman's voice caught his attention. Facing her he saw her hands out with a piled set of neatly folded clothes. “Made these for you.” Smiling when she handed them off.

“Wow, thank you. You don't have to give me anything though.”

“I know.” she held her smile as she left.

He took his new gift and the barbed wire back to his room. Changing into one of the new sets immediately after not having a change of clothes for twelve days. Fresher than he's been in a while he looked over the old clothes. Gotta wash these after a soak in bleach. Will marinating in mercury lake kill anything on it? Snatching a bucket and some dish soap off the shelf's he wandered over to the southern river. Scrubbing the fabric ten times over to the point his hands were turned raw. Least I got more clothes now. Plopping his old set on a shelf. Should make this into an actual bedroom sometime. Grabbing a pair of wire clippers to use. Snipping down the bundle of barbed wire into a pile of mini pieces. Turning those into rings he layered along to other rings. A square of them forming the start of a chain mail vest by the end of the day. Tired from the intricate work he went to check on everyone else.

The grand hall filled with people eating another meal of soup. “Evening, sir.” greeted by Mathew, John's son, cooking in the kitchen. He was the youngest of them all from what Blake could tell. Maybe having turned fifteen recently. He was covered in scars as much as the rest, but nothing too noticeable.

“Evening.” he greeted back as he scooped himself a bowl of soup.

“We couldn't find much today so I threw in a few bags of rice. If that's okay.”

“Yeah, long as everyone gets to eat. Hopefully soon we can live off farming and leave the pantry for emergencies.”

“Would be grand. My father says your getting medicine for the scalled. Are you going to save them?”

“Going to try. I don't think we should call them scalled anymore, they're just sick. When they get actual medicine they'll get better.” Taking a bite.

“Have you seen the quarantine before?”

“Entered it once on the way to heretic mountain.”

“Could you look for my mom? She was sent away a few years ago.”

Blake choked down his current spoonful of soup. “I - I'll uh try. I can't promise anything.” gloom settled thickly in the air. “I don't think I'll be able to save everyone, to tell you the truth. The longer Knoth let them suffer the less of a chance they have. If it comes down to it, where medicine can’t help ...”

Mathews' gaze turned to the floor. “I understand.” Head brought up to ask. “Can I come with you when you go? If nothing can be done I can at least say goodbye.”

He didn't want anybody following him in, but how could he say no to that. “Sure, but it could be dangerous. Last time they tried to eat me.” He warned through a nervous smile. Doing his best to eat his meal.

“I'm not afraid, I'll be with an angel.” He nervously smiled back.

“Oh yeah …” Mumbling the next bit. “Angel of death.”

“You're doing a shitty job then, sir.” raising a laugh from both of them.

“Night Mathew.” Leaving the kitchen he passed Marta. “Have you rested your ankle at all?” knowing full well she didn't.

“The wicked get no rest, so neither do I.”

“It won't get better unless you do.”

“Someone has to watch the night.”

“When do you sleep?” Asking earnestly with her being up both times of the day. The look she gave him didn't help. “You have to sleep sometime. You should pick some people.”

“I can stand on my own.” Huffing at the suggestion. “You think I'm not strong enough?”

“I don't want you dying from exhaustion. What happens if you fall sick? If you can't do anything at all, then what? We should have a guard to enforce some law around here. Stop trouble before it devolves into another riot.”

She mumbled some verses, but tuned into his suggestion. “What does the angel want?”

“Pick at least twelve people who can keep watch. Fast runners with muscle. If something goes wrong they can help. If they can't, then they can run to you. You'll be in charge of them, to train them on what you know. When you feel they're trained enough, put them on a watch schedule. six for the day and six for the night. If they end up doing something you don't like. It's your choice how to punish them. You won't have to come to me.” Hmm, should make a proper jail somewhere. Need to put someone somewhere if they break the law. Knoths jail wasn't fit for even a dog kennel.

“I will do what the angel asks.” On her way to pick a few souls for the duty.

“Thank you.” He spoke. returning to his room where he finished his bowl of soup. Jumping into bed for another night's rest.

Halfway through the night Blake woke to running thoughts. Bits and pieces he looked over that were important for later on. Need more housing to be made. For the newcomers and for the ones whose houses burned down. Curing them won't matter much if we suffer a repeat. Wanting to be shot with an arrow rather than run a sex ED meeting. Unable to sleep anymore he went back to his work desk. Making more links to chain together on the small patchwork he had ready. Focusing on that long enough for the sun to rise. Aware of the time because the light reached under his door. He stretched with a yawn to go find Liam.

A brief meeting to discuss what also needed to be made. A full list of orders that needed some to “Be finished by end of the week.”

“End of the week?” Liam was taken aback. “With all your asking, it'll take a few months.”

“This is really important. What if you had a lot more helping you?”

“It'd help, but with so many not knowing the trade it could still take longer than a week.”

“Take as many as you need. Quarantine area should be finished first. New houses can wait a while longer. In a week I want to move the scalled out into the new quarantine area. After 14 more days I want to move them into new houses.”

“Where do you want these new houses?”

“Somewhere around here. Any extra land you clear of wood set them there.”

“You want to bring the scalled into town?”

“They won't be ill anymore at that point. The goal of the new quarantine is to set them closer. Where they can get proper care without being forgotten and neglected. I have meds coming that can cure them after 14 days.”

“Mm.” Liam let out a grumbling growl. “Long as I don't have to get near them. Should I surround it with wire to keep them from wanderin'?”

“Chain link only, wire won't be necessary.”

“What if they try climbin' over?”

“If they want to run I won't stop them.”

“I mean if they want to spread their disease to us livin' better.” His bitter tone souring Blake's own mood.

“I think they only want to get better. Don't you think?”

“If I were them I'd want everyone to suffer as I have.”

“I wouldn't.” Turning the topic. “When they're brought out of quarantine, safe and healthy to interact with. They'll need houses to move into. Wherever you can clear flat land.”

“I got it.” Unenthusiastic about details. “It'd be easier reclaiming the rot for 'em.” Shot a glare he clarified. “I don't mean a trash heap. There are buildings out there that have rotted from mismanagement. Won't be long before they're a pile of junk. The walls need to be completely rebuilt, but the foundation and inner workings should be fine. Wires to the power lines, pipes, sinks, stoves and what furniture that survived the years. They'll take half the time compared to a scratch build.”

“Work on those then. Know how many there are?”

“Whole districts worth. 18 houses we can fix up from rot. Maybe 20 more if not too far gone.”

Breaking down the area to Blake. Working out a firmer schedule to get things ready. More men brought over to have a whole task force to get the job done in time. Crossing paths with Marta and her newly selected guard on the way to check on others.

“Will they do?” She asked for Blake's final word.

Each one had some muscle on their tall frames. Held back by a lack of good diet Blake was sure of. Still not a single one scraped the height Marta stood at. “They'll do.” Dipping his head in approval toward them as he headed off. Scouring the mountain he found the hunting party led by Mathew. “Where's john?”

“He's setting traps along the mountain. He didn't like bringing too many because it startled the food away. Left our scent all over the area that made traps useless. Did you need to talk with him?”

“No, just checking in. Everything's getting so big around here I'm afraid I'll miss something if I don't.”

“If it's about orders, could give 'em through the radios.”

“Ugh.” his skin crawled at the mention. “I rather not, it disconnects me from people. Makes me become a faceless voice spitting orders to everyone. I rather meet and hear about any issues in person.”

“What about making deacons?”

“Huh?”

“Deacons, they were under Knoth to pass messages. Paul used to be one, before he was ordered dead, we brought issues to since he was of the few Knoth listened to. Same for Laird and … Val, when they were chief deacon.”

“Yeah, that's a good idea. I don't think I could call them deacons though. I don't flow much with the religious thought Temple Gate had before.”

“Lords then, runners of land and its people under the king?”

“Works for me.”

“Can I be a lord?” His excitement warmed Blake.

“Maybe, I'll think of who should get a title. Good luck hunting.” Waving goodbye. Passing down the mountain he saw the building team clearing trees. A huge line of road cleared surrounding the tire tracks. Sections of trunks chopped to haul easier back into town for further processing. On the wind he could smell the fresh cut wood. Breathing easier through his asthma. Ruined by more rain pouring down. This place ever stay dry? Isn't this supposed to be the desert? Rushing through to avoid becoming soaked. Stepping down the great hall to pick up his work at the desk. Sighing tiredly at the dull work of ring links he took a break first. Wanting to carve something to relax from all the stress of running a town. I should choose who should manage what. Chipping away to carve out a simple rabbit figure. Then a few small chickens. Focusing back on his chain mail when his carvings felt finished.

#outlast 2 #blake langermann #outlast 2: deliverance #marta outlast #temple gate #val outlast

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