#gotta edit this on mobible later

[flatstarcarcosa]

celebrations

notes: i know i said i wasn’t going to do much until i actually play far cry three but @rakyats gave me brain worms (in the best possible way) and it is the first of october, and i don’t officially have a ship yet since i can’t play the game but UHHHH  summary: how the fuck does sam know these things? reese sure doesn’t know, they’re supposed to be a fucking enigma, after all  warnings: mentions of alcohol and drugs, although i feel like a lack of bigger warnings for my ships should be a warning in and of itself

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When Reese isn’t stabbing men in the kidneys at the behest of Hoyt or because they felt like they wanted to, they hole up in a small beach side shack. It has one room for sleeping, and another for bathing, and that in itself makes it highly sought after. 

They’ve spent a long time on the island consumed by drugs and alcohol and anything that makes them forget they are a real person that is tied to the world at large. Upon their first meeting, he watched them kill a man for ruining their ‘vibe’ while drinking. They got the jump on the man with a broken beer bottle, and impaled him on the end of a bowie knife. 

When he watched Reese sigh dramatically and shake the empty beer bottle while asking ‘why’d you spill my beer?’ upon their first meeting, Sam Becker was sure there was more to them than meets the eye. 

It takes a lot of effort and resources to get word back to his handler. Eventually, Sam finds out everything. An abused kid that was left to their own devices, that ended up in Hoyt’s employ based on their own unfortunate addictions and habits running the show. 

Reese wanted to forget who they were, where they came from, and the things that got them from point A to point B. They chased anything that promised to help them do just that and they ended up in the islands, willinging to accept anything passed down from Hoyt if it meant one less day of being a Real Person. 

Sam is unsure just how long Reese spent like that, unaware of the world around them in exchange for being unaware of the blood on their hands. Reese’s file has a lot of blanks in it, not because they’re that good at hiding it but more because no one really cared to fill them in.

He thinks that is somehow more sad than anything. Those parts of the paper that are still too white, still too unblemished, simply because even the government didn’t deem it important enough to fill in.  

It is why, two years after meeting them, they walk back into their sad excuse of a home to find a cupcake sitting on the table. It is encased in plastic, with a single candle pressed into the frosting, and a note seated below it. 

Reese frowns, blinking down at the small cake. The amount of alcohol they ingest on a daily basis on top of the very good, very cheap drugs available means that for a moment, they do a lot of blinking. 

They keep the door locked and the windows barricaded. They do not trust anyone else in either Hoyt or Vaas’s employ. Time enough has passed that they have more of a liking to Vaas than Hoyt, but even Vaas knows to leave them alone if they’re not on duty. 

Vaas is more raw, more real and more…captivating, than the stiff suit that Hoyt hides behind, but Vaas also seems to better understand that a person is only owed what they’re paid for. 

Vaas will offer Reese money for a job, and cease giving instructions as soon as the job is done. 

Hoyt seems to run on a never ending stream of ‘buts’ and ‘please’ and ‘maybe’s. It has long since gotten old. 

Reese pulls the chair out from the desk and plops heavily into it as they continue to frown at the cupcake. 

A day or two early, yes? says the note. Depending on when you find it. I hope it is early, or it might melt! So few days into fall and you have a birthday, what luck! The changing of the seasons means a lot in some places, you know! Perhaps we will get some snow in our sunny paradise, I would love to see it. 

Reese’s confusion does not abate as they read. They pause to light a cigarette, and are unsure on whether this is some sort of fucked up joke. 

Meet me by the beach on the actual night of the third, the note continues. Perhaps a night off under the moon will be all you need.  

The note is signed simply Sam B, and it does not take much thought for Reese to pin down who it is that sent it. They tap ash from their cigarette into their tray and look up as the sun begins to peek through the window. 

It is sunrise, October the third. 

Somehow, they think that by ‘the actual night’ he meant ‘after sundown’ on the third. They also can’t shake the feeling they are right about that. Reese grunts as they pluck the candle from the cupcake and toss it into the garbage can. 

The cake itself is a bit dry, and the buttercream yet another victim to the humidity, but they have certainly eaten worse. As they lick chocolate off their fingers and pull off their boots to get a daytime nap, they wonder perhaps what is waiting them on the beach. 

That, of course, and how the fuck Sam found out their birthday. 

#reese.fic #selfshipping #self shipping community #i can't make the little 2 icon for him on desktop im howling #gotta edit this on mobible later #sam²