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savage-rhi · 7 months ago

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Duality

Chapter 14: The Ritual

Summary: Sawyer Kiddo has walked a razor's edge as a hacktivist for several years, driven by the loss of her family in the Raccoon City incident. Haunted by past choices and fueled with desire for vigilante justice, Sawyer's work takes an unexpected turn when she ventures to Spain and crosses paths with Luis Serra—a man with blood on his hands long thought to be dead. Together they unravel a web of corruption and face an impending bioterror threat, fighting not only monsters but also the darker elements of their humanity. As they delve deeper into each other's pasts and the conspiracy at large, Sawyer begins to sense something unsettling about Luis—something that might be even more dangerous than their mutual enemies.

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"How's your arm holding up?" Two Legs asked, glancing over his shoulder as he stirred a skillet of vegetables sizzling in olive oil. The rich, savory aroma filled the kitchen as he flipped the pieces with a spatula. He tried to focus on the food, but the faint rustling behind him—Sawyer moving around—kept his nerves on edge.

Even though she hadn't shown any signs of hostility, he couldn't suppress his instincts. Turning his back on her made him feel exposed, as if her gaze might pierce through his shirt and spot the breathing hole hidden in Luis's back. The thought was absurd, but it stuck to him.

"It's holding up like I got shot," Sawyer replied with a crooked smile, cutting her remark short with a pained yelp as she tried—and failed—to roll her shoulders.

"I heard that!" Two Legs turned immediately; he frowned as his gaze locked on her injured arm. He stepped closer to the right, his movements fluid but tense as if ready to catch her if she fell. "You're going to tear apart my stitch work if you keep pushing it."

Sawyer winced, murmuring an apology before flashing him a mischievous grin. "Told you earlier on the way back—I don't know when to quit."

"And then some," Two Legs chuckled, echoing one of her favorite phrases with a playful edge. He turned back to the skillet, but his gaze kept drifting back to her. A gentler warmth settled over his face as his thoughts wandered to their earlier conversation during the walk back to his home, a lingering giddiness bubbling up from learning Sawyer's favorite color was purple.

Two Legs was so caught up in his head, thinking of her smile that contrasted with the glimmer in her sorrowful eyes when they spotted a patch of lavender in the fields, that he leaned into one of Luis's old flirtations without thinking.

"I like that in women, by the way. Stubbornness."

"Oh yeah?" Sawyer's brow arched, surprise lighting up her face. "I always assumed that was a flaw."

"Maybe it is in the States, " he replied with a grin, flipping a piece of bell pepper with his spatula. "But you saw Ida earlier. Stubborn to a fault, and somehow she made it past sixty."

"I'm 29 and way past my expiration date."

"At least you're not milk!"

Sawyer snorted. "It's leeche , right?"

"Pardon?"

" Leeche is Spanish for milk?"

"You're close. It's pronounced leh-chey, not like leech . " He began to chuckle, the sound rippling up as Sawyer raised a brow, eyeing him.

"What's so funny? "

"Now I'm picturing a leech having the time of its life swimming in milk, getting a taste, and swearing off blood.

Sawyer shook her head, suppressing a laugh. "You've got one active imagination for a guy, Luis."

"I gotta give credit where it's due—you're the muse here."

Their laughter mingled, easy and unguarded, filling the space between them.

"No, but really, " Two Legs said, shaking his head and clearing his throat as their laughter faded. "I like stubborn women because they're bold, y'know? "

"I'll alert the media, " Sawyer quipped.

"The media? " Two Legs tilted his head, his expression genuinely puzzled. "Why would they care about my taste in ladies?"

"I was trying to be funny, " Sawyer said, smirk shifting into a bashful smile. "Guess I missed the mark—but don't beat your head over it."

Two Legs chuckled, his grin quick and lively as he turned from the stove to look at her. "Wouldn't be the first time my head got knocked around."

Sawyer became acutely aware of how intently she was watching him then. The kitchen island between them felt irrelevant—the weight of his gaze made it seem like he was standing right before her. The faint orange around his pupils glowed like polished amber amidst a pool of water, drawing her in despite herself. She wondered which parent had given him that intense yet gentle stare, not recalling ever meeting someone with traits like his.

A faint chill tugged her arms, pulling Sawyer back to the present. She quickly shifted her gaze past him toward the stove, breaking whatever spell had taken hold.

"Luis, " she said, clearing her throat.

"Yeah?"

"Your food is burning."

"Shit! " His startled reaction was priceless, and Sawyer stifled a laugh as he scrambled back to the skillet.

She let her gaze wander across the kitchen's open, airy design—high ceilings, spacious counters, and warm light spilling in from the windows. It reminded her of the ranch houses VITA used for conferences in California. That time felt distant as she inhaled slowly, trying to remain present.

"You sure you don't want something to eat? " Two Legs interrupted. "Paella is good for the soul around here. "

"I'm positive. I don't think I could stomach anything right now. "

"Not a fan of saffron and spices? "

Sawyer smirked. "I may be a white American, but I appreciate flavors. "

He chuckled his back still to her. "After everything we've been through, I never doubted that."

Sawyer let her fingers drift over the cool marble countertop before finally settling into one of the kitchen island's stools. Her ears tuned into the sizzle of vegetables, the oil snapping and hissing under Luis's spatula. She looked at a blue bowl of pre-cooked rice waiting nearby, which he scooped up and stirred into the fragrant skillet.

"Remind me, " she said, breaking the quiet. "You said we're in the Costa Brava region, right?"

"Yep! " Two Legs glanced over his shoulder, flashing a grin that seemed too deliberate like he was trying to lift the mood. “San Viento del Mar, to be precise. Quiet area, lots of sun, the town's close enough, and no annoying neighbor s…e xcept for Ida. " His smile turned slightly lopsided. "Pretty perfect for laying low, wouldn't you say?"

Sawyer nodded absently, her brow furrowing as curiosity—or maybe disbelief—started to bite at her. "So… how'd you score a place like this?"

" How did a scoundrel like me end up here, you mean? " Two Legs quipped, a trace of mischief in his eyes. But his smile faltered at the seriousness in her gaze. Turning to the stove, he stirred the pan and lowered the heat. "Ah…well, I guess I lucked out."

" You guess? " Her head tilted slightly, her eyes steady on him.

Two Legs hesitated, the faint ticking of the stove filling the pause as he sifted through Luis's memories, double-checking each detail. "This place—it belonged to my…I guess you'd call them foster family. Arlo and Ramona Jacinto. They were old but decent people."

" Were ?"

A faint hum escaped him as he nodded. "They passed. Ramona, around the time I started college. Arlo, the year after."

"I'm sorry, " Sawyer said softly.

"No need to be. I like to think they're reunited somewhere else, y'know? " Two Legs offered a strained smile, trying to soften the moment despite the chill running down his spine. The thought of "The Other Place " lingered, looming in his mind.

"So you're not from here, then?"

" No, " Two Legs replied, his voice quieter now, as if the words might cost him something. "I grew up in a village with my Abuelo—Valdelobos, it was called. Out in the country. We didn't have much, just the basics. I left when I was about nin e…m aybe ten? Can't remember exactly."

" What made you leave so young?"

Two Legs stirred the rice, his movements slowing as if an unseen weight pressed down on him.

"I lost my heart, " he said softly. "My Abuelo…he—he didn't make it."

Sawyer swallowed. He didn't need to elaborate for her to get the gist. The way his voice wavered, as though brushing too close to a wound that hadn't fully healed, made her second-guess offering an apology or condolence. Neither felt like enough.

"Don't worry about it," Two Legs said quickly. He forced a grin, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's all in the past. Arlo and Ramona helped me when I wandered here. They gave me a fresh start and even paid for my studies. I think I turned out alright for the most part."

Sawyer was quiet, letting this new piece of his story settle over her. She could sense there was still so much left unspoken, stuff she'd have to reanalyze later since she was still in recovery, both in body and spirit.

"What about you? " Two Legs asked, his voice tentative. "Where's home for you?"

"I don't have one, " she admitted after a beat. "I was renting in California for a bit before I came here, though. "

"But you did at some point, didn't you? "

" Well, I grew up in Raccoon City, out in the suburbs with my parents. " Sawyer exhaled, her guard slipping just enough to let a sliver of the past through. "My aunt, uncle, and cousin lived a few blocks down. We didn't have the classic white picket fence life or anything, bu t…l ooking back, it wasn't all bad. Even though we were broke and couldn't make ends meet half the time."

"Kind of like me, huh?"

A small, wistful smile found its way to Sawyer's lips. "Yeah. Kinda like you."

The kitchen went quiet, save for the occasional clinking of the spatula against the pan. Sawyer became lost in thought as her eyes dropped to her hands. She was absently tracing a crack in the countertop before her attention went to Luis. Something about the quiet pull beneath his humor and charm left her wondering what he wasn't saying. Of all the invisible elephants in the room, one seemed to loom larger now, demanding to be addressed.

"How'd you end up working for Umbrella?"

Two Legs arched a brow, his stirring slowing down.

"You sure know how to go for the throat, " he teased lightly, though the humor didn't fully mask the shift in his tone. His hand hovered over the pan as his smile faded, replaced by a distant look. After a second, he sighed. "Arlo—my foster dad—was a retired Umbrella executive. Worked for their European branch back in the day."

" Huh. " Sawyer frowned, a dry scoff slipping out. "So much for the wholesome grandpa I pictured."

" He was a lot of things, " Two Legs replied evenly, his voice soft but persistent. "But not a bad man. Maybe a little…misguided, but not what you're imagining. He didn't work with monsters like I did."

The conviction in his tone caught her off guard. Sawyer watched as his gaze grew unfocused. Luis's past seemed to linger in his expression, provoking something protective.

He blinked and exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing. "Lo siento. I didn't mean to get tense."

"It's fine, " Sawyer murmured, her frown deepening as she searched for the right words. "I mean, I'd be pissed if you spoke ill of my dad. I get it."

" Hmm. " Two Legs nodded, his focus shifting to the food as he adjusted the temperature, the spatula moving in planned strokes.

"So, " Sawyer pressed gently, her curiosity lingering. "Arlo was your key into Umbrella?"

" Yep! " His response was quick, accompanied by a breath to ease the tension. "Arlo had connections all over the company—old colleagues who owed him favors. When I was at university, he talked me up to the execs. My ideas and passion projects. By the time I graduated, I was basically the pick of the litter."

" What kind of pull did he have at Umbrella to swing that kind of favor?"

" Being good at math and being imaginative, " Two Legs quipped, a short laugh escaping as he glanced over his shoulder. Catching the faint, knowing frown on Sawyer's face, he grinned, undeterred by the skepticism. "He led Umbrella Europe's financial department—secured major funding for projects, the kind that shaped the company's direction. Before Arlo retired, his mantra was 'brains over brawn.' He pushed for smarter, more efficient BOWs. Meanwhile, the American branch?" He snorted. "They were all about brute strength."

His chuckle at the end was light, but there was an edge, a faint tension hinting at the rivalry between the branches—still simmering deep in Luis's memories somewhere.

"So, you were part of all that, " Sawyer said, her words sharp and steady. "Making monsters. Pushing the envelope until it finally bit you in the ass. "

Memories of headlines and classified VITA reports flashed in her mind—each more horrifying than the last, especially the tidbit regarding Umbrella's rivalry with its sister locations. What was once speculation and rumor was now truth, thanks to Luis. Her fingers tightened against the countertop as her glare pinned Luis's back.

"Yeah, " Two Legs murmured, almost regretful. "I was. "

His shoulders seemed to slump, jaw tightening as the consequence of his admission pulled at his face. "I was young. Idealistic. I thought we were working on cures, you know? We knew Umbrella was messing with viruses, but I assumed it was for good intentions. I was wrong, and I know that doesn't absolve me."

" What made you grow a conscience?"

"I found out later what they were really up to. That's why I left."

"And what was that?"

" Eugenics, " he said grimly. "They wanted to speed up human evolution through viruses and parasites—organisms like the ones I studied."

Sawyer frowned, her thoughts turning over his words. She weighed her next question, her tone easing just slightly. "And Kari? How does she fit into this?"

"Remember the inscriptions on my lighter? "

Sawyer nodded.

"Kari was the head of that—the Dream Team, " Two Legs began, his tone easing as he strolled through Luis's memories. "We started as a cohort, running independent experiments under the old chief. Then Kari showed up, no-nonsense and big ambitions. She and I clashed constantly—mostly about where to take the research. I wanted to focus on parasitic applications to fight disease, but she kept doubling down on BOW development."

"That's why she has it out for you?"

" To my knowledge, yeah. " He furrowed his brows, his spatula pausing mid-stir. "We got under each other's skin one too many times. But even then, her hostility on the roof? Out of left field. "

"It was to get us to turn on each other if you recall, " Sawyer interjected, her voice taking on an edge. "Kari knew she was backed into a corner because I caught her lying about what happened at Soldado's hideaway. Like a rat, she tried to chew her way out."

Two Legs let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "It almost makes you wish you were stuck on your original mission, huh? Dealing with Jean-Jacques instead of all this extra nonsense."

Sawyer's eyes narrowed as she tested the waters. "Not to change the subject, but before she shot at us, Kari told me Soldado tried to force himself on her, and she killed him. Does that sound like something he'd do?"

Force himself...? The words held implications he couldn't fully grasp. Luis's memories supplied fragments—intimacy twisted with violence, flashes of the Plaga hijacking bodies, and a chilling revelation of how closely human instincts could mirror those of monsters. He returned his focus to the food as if stirring the pan might dispel the unease knotting in his chest.

"Jean was my work nemesis, " he said finally. "But he never gave me the impression he was capable of… that. "

That… whatever it was, he didn't understand it, but knew he didn't like it.

Sawyer studied him, her frown worsening as a memory tugged at the edges of her mind about Kari and how it was hard to tell a truth from a lie in this context, even with Luis's assurance. For a moment, she debated pursuing the subject further, but the thought of dredging up the details of Soldado's alleged sins—and Kari's manipulations—felt like staring into an abyss with no answers. She exhaled, letting it drop.

"After our fight that night in the hotel, " Sawyer began, shifting gears, "I saw a US document about you in the VITA archives. It said you allegedly died in some remote village in 2004. I'm guessing that's Valdelobos."

Two Legs's lips stretched into a thin, humorless smile. "Yeah…about that."

" What happened?"

"I'd love to tell you, " he said with resignation, "but I don't remember much. I was hurt—real bad, I have amnesia. "

"Amnesia?"

"Uh huh," He paused, his tone growing quieter as he sifted through the fragmented remnants of Luis's memories. "I do remember that shortly before Umbrella bit the dust with Raccoon City, I went home. I was disillusioned—done with everything. Maybe I thought returning to my roots would give me clarity or a clean slate. But...that didn't pan out. A cult got to the village while I was away. They sank their teeth into the locals, turning them into something else . When I returned, it was like walking into a nightmare. And they wanted my research."

Two Legs drew in a sharp breath, staring blankly into the pan as the rice hissed. "Then came Ashley—the girl they brought in. And the US government sent someone to retrieve her—Leon. We worked together, but…things didn't go according to plan. We got separated, and that's when I think it happened. I must've hit my head. Maybe it was worse. I woke up in a cave, alone. No memory of how I got there, just…"

" Pieces? " she finished for him.

"Yeah, " Two Legs nodded, glancing over his shoulder with a quick frown. "I know that's not what you want to hear."

Sawyer sighed through her nose, nodding once. "You'd be right. But…I know you can't help it."

For a fleeting moment, guilt twisted in Two Legs's gut. He hadn't lied outright, but withholding the truth wasn't much better. Still, it was safer this way. Until he could untangle Luis's fractured memories from his chaotic stint in "The Other Place," keeping things vague seemed the best course of action. The truth—that she'd been speaking to, quite literally, a dead man walking—was a revelation Two Legs wasn't ready for her to face, much less himself.

Even so, there was something in her tone, a quiet empathy that clashed with her not-so-subtle suspicion. Sawyer didn't entirely believe him; he could feel it. Yet, she wasn't pushing.

"Could this Leon guy help us out? " she asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. "Do you know how to get in touch?"

" Unfortunately, no on the getting-in-touch part, " Two Legs said sincerely, stirring the food with a lazy rhythm after adding chicken stock to the rice mix. "I have a feeling he'd know what to do, but we never got around to exchanging numbers. Hard to do that with a cult riding up your ass."

Sawyer smirked. "Is it bad that I'm thinking that's called karma on your part for all the shit you've done?"

Two Legs turned his head, raising an eyebrow as he shook his head at her, though an amused huff escaped. "You're lucky I like you."

" Hit close to home?"

" More like hit under the belt. " He let out a scoff, followed by a laugh, a small grin creeping across his face. The banter shifted something in his mood as an idea struck him. "Hey, say I got you a computer—could you maybe track Leon down?"

" Possibly, " Sawyer replied, though her nod was hesitant. "It depends on whether I can access the VITA Network. Even then, hacking government info—especially on agents—is like trying to steal from a bear trap. It's messy, high-risk, and more often than not, you get caught. I'd have to tread carefully. The last thing I want is to get deported before I can find Kari and wring her damn neck."

Her voice honed at the last part, and Two Legs was torn between amusement and admiration.

"So… you've decided to stay in Spain? " he asked, tilting his head slightly.

"For now, yeah. I'm not leaving empty-handed, " Sawyer murmured, her gaze shifting to the floor as if speaking more to herself than him. She missed the genuine smile spreading across Luis's face. "If it's alright, I'd like to stay longer. Here, I mean. "

"Never thought you'd ask, " Two Legs replied, grinning wide enough to make his skin tingle with a strange warmth. "It's kinda nice having a nestmate after so many years."

Sawyer blinked. "Come again? "

"Er—roommate! I meant roommate. Sorry, brain glitch, " he said quickly, a hand flying up as if to wave the slip away. He turned back to the stove, switching off the burner and pulling the pan off the heat. After the steam tampered a bit, he began scooping the paella into a large bowl he had already set up before cooking, using a spoon nearby to mix the contents further.

"Walk me through your plans, " he said over his shoulder. "What're you thinking?"

" I want to go after Kari. Get to her before she gets to us, " Sawyer replied, despite the hesitation that crept up on her. "It might be stupid, but I've got this gut feeling there's something bigger going on with her."

" Such as? " Two Legs asked, plucking a piece of meat from the pan and popping it into his mouth.

Sawyer frowned slightly, her fingers drumming against the kitchen island top as she mulled over her words. "Think about it: Kari was the chief of Team 6. Both you and Soldado worked under her, and she conveniently killed the bastard and tried to kill you. It can't be a coincidence."

Two Legs paused mid-chew, the meat sitting heavy on his tongue. He swallowed slowly, Sawyer's words planting an uneasy seed in his mind.

"Luis, " Sawyer pressed, leaning forward slightly. "are you sure you don't know why she'd go after you?"

" If I knew, I'd tell you. And like I said, my memory isn't the best since what happened in the village. " His hand tightened around the spoon, the metal pressing against his palm as a darker memory went through him--the moment Kari had seen his true face. He knew this would be a problem later but pushed it aside, keeping his expression neutral.

"That said, " he added, meeting her eyes, "I've had this feeling since you were shot that she has unfinished business with me. So if we work together and catch her, then what happens?"

Sawyer didn't hesitate. "Preferably? We let VITA know what's been going on, get reinforcements to help us, and throw her ass in prison for life."

" And if you can't reach VITA?"

" Then we're on our own, " Sawyer admitted, her voice dipping lower. "And I have no idea where to start."

"We'll figure it out, " Two Legs said, offering her an encouraging smile. "First, let's get you a computer. Then you can work your magic! We can head into town later if you're up for it and take care of that."

Sawyer mulled over his suggestion, her fingers lightly tracing the table's edge. After a moment, she let out a tired breath. "Maybe tomorrow. I'm still not feeling right."

"Still achey?"

"You have no idea."

Two Legs gave her a sympathetic nod, though he didn't push for details. Instead, he took a large bite of paella, savoring the flavors with a hum of approval.

"Not bad," he muttered more to himself than to her, licking a stray grain of rice from his thumb.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Sawyer glance at the bowl, her gaze lingering briefly on the shrimp nestled in the rice. He suppressed a knowing smile when she quickly turned her head, feigning disinterest. He sat the bowl down on the kitchen island across from her.

"I've gotta hit the bathroom. Be right back, " Two Legs said casually, slipping out of the kitchen and leaving Sawyer alone with the meal.

Once he was gone, Sawyer leaned back in her chair, the quiet settling around her. If someone had told her years ago she'd be working side by side with someone from Umbrella, she'd have laughed in their face. Maybe even do jail time for assault. Yet here she was, sharing a roof with an adversary, an adversary that literally gave her his blood to save her life. The absurdity brought a bit of amusement to Sawyer's lips—how far her life had veered off course. He wasn't like the others she'd dealt with, though. Luis had layers, and though she didn't have the full picture, she felt in her gut she could trust him moving forward. That's when she frowned, staring at the bowl he had left behind.

Samuel's death hung solemnly in her mind, a constant loop of what-ifs. It had been like this for some time now, letting the guilt take root, punishing herself as if starving could somehow atone for her failure to save him. Nonetheless, the deprivation was wearing her down. She could feel how weak her body had become during the walk with Luis and knew despite her stubbornness, she couldn't keep this up forever.

Her stomach clenched, drawing her eyes back to the bowl of paella. She hesitated, glancing toward the doorway to ensure Luis wasn't around before grabbing the spoon and taking a chunk out of the rice pile.

The first bite melted on her tongue, the warmth and rich flavor breaking her defenses. Before she realized it, she'd taken another bite, then another. Each mouthful dulled the edges of her sorrow, and Sawyer was beginning to realize Luis had a point earlier: paella was good for the soul, enough to where she was practically gorging on it.

"There any left for me?"

She jumped, nearly dropping the spoon, her cheeks flushing as she whipped around. Two Legs stood in the doorway, arms crossed, a smug grin playing on his lips.

"How long were you standing there? " she demanded, flustered.

"Long enough, " he chuckled. "Don't worry; I actually did use the bathroom. Catching this was just a bonus. "

" Screw you, " she muttered, her tone hovering somewhere between annoyance and embarrassment. Still, the corner of her mouth betrayed a reluctant smile as she took another bite.

Two Legs moved to one of the cabinets while she ate, retrieving an extra bowl and silverware for himself. He returned to the kitchen island and settled into the chair beside her, his movements casual. As he reached for Sawyer's bowl and started scooping out some of the paella for himself, he flinched when she suddenly jumped, her posture stiffening like a startled cat. His eyes narrowed slightly as he tilted his head out of concern with how she stared at him as if he were a ghost.

"Is there something on my face?"

"No."

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Her stomach twisted. "I'm not looking at you like anything. "

" Uh, yeah, you are, " he countered, his voice softened with curiosity. "You're looking at me like...that."

The tension hung between them, almost too stumped for words.

"Your cologne is strong, " Sawyer finally said, gesturing vaguely after clearing her throat. "Where did you get it? "

" Oh, this? " He glanced down as if surprised by the question. "Picked it up in Seville a while back. Is it bothering you? "

" I, uh... " She hesitated, then met his gaze with a timid shrug. "Collecting cologne's sort of my thing. I like it—the way you smell, I mean. "

"I wouldn't have guessed. Thanks, I think? " Two Legs blinked, caught off guard. Then, a lopsided grin crept onto his face as he settled into his seat. "Hey, if you want to wear any, I have a bunch of different colognes in the bathroom in the upper cabinet."

"I'll keep that in mind. "

That was...weird. He frowned.

" Is there a brand you like in particular? " he asked, leaning back casually.

Sawyer steadied herself, her gaze dropping to the bowl before her. She picked at one of the shrimps in the paella, biting into it hesitantly before answering. "Well, you can't go wrong with Old Spice. But before I left the States, I got hooked on this new one...Terre d'Hermès or something. I think it's French. "

"What does it smell like? " He asked curiously.

Sawyer hummed, her eyes distant as she searched for the right words. She didn't notice Two Legs's gaze lingering on her, studying her posture with quiet focus. He could sense the tension in her body, though it seemed to be slowly ebbing away. Whatever spooked her was subsiding.

"Earthy, " she said at last, her voice soft. "Bitter orange and smoky in parts. Kind of like the scent dry dirt gives off when it first rains. "

" It sounds nice, " Two Legs remarked with a small smile, her description sparking nostalgia. It reminded him briefly of the caves he had once called home, their damp, earthy scent mingling with the rain outside. He wanted to say something further to that but decided against it, letting the thought settle into the quiet.

They ate silently for a while, the time-out ending when the scrape of Sawyer's spoon against her empty bowl caught Two Legs's attention. His lips quirked into a smile before, without a word, he tipped what was left of his portion back into her bowl from his.

"Aren't you hungry? " she asked, looking at him skeptically.

"Not as much as you, obviously, " he chuckled. Before Sawyer could protest, he raised a hand to cut her off. "I'll be fine. I don't normally eat breakfast."

"You put a lot of time into it. You should enjoy what you've made."

"Seeing you eat does that for me."

Sawyer blushed, realizing he'd gone to the trouble of cooking entirely on her behalf. A part of her felt embarrassed for reasons she couldn't explain. Whatever the case, she didn't have the strength to fend it off, much less him. A quiet sigh escaped her, a light smile pulling at her lips as she returned to eating.

Unaware of Two Legs' intense gaze on her, Sawyer missed how his expression shifted. His features were calm, yet there was a bite to his fixation as if he were wrestling with something implicit. He forced himself to swallow the last bit of rice in his mouth, discomfort hidden behind practiced ease as sweat trickled down his neck.

Hours later at night, it was late when the nausea hit, a wave so violent that Two Legs barely made it to the bathroom in time. He gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles whitening as his body heaved, rejecting the meal he'd forced himself to endure earlier. The taste of bile burned his throat, and his chest rattled with each strangled cough.

Though Two Legs could digest human food and even enjoyed it, there were limits—a fine line between indulgence and toxicity. Today, he'd crossed it with the rice. Grains generally seemed to have an ill effect on his kind, or maybe he was just unlucky. Two Legs thought of it like a dog eating chocolate: a small taste was tolerable, but too much could be fatal. Despite that, he'd do it all over again. He got Sawyer to eat, really eat , and even convinced her to snack on little things throughout the day. The sight had eased a knot in Two Legs that had grown tightly around his heart, one less thing he had to worry about regarding her save for the ebb and flow of her distance. He found it odd how, for one moment, Sawyer wanted to hang and talk with him; then, she would take space elsewhere in the house and nap periodically. The way humans processed their physical trauma compared to the plaga eluded him immensely, but Two Legs absorbed the small victories. At least she seemed comfortable.

After expending the last grains, Two Legs leaned over the sink, turning on the faucet to wash the sour tang from his mouth. The cold water shocked his system but couldn't mask the other sensation chewing at him—a hunger he hadn't felt in weeks.

As the room steadied, his mind wandered to the medical supply facility, to the moment he'd tasted Sawyer's blood to know her type so he could transfuse Luis's blood to her. Since then, he hadn't thought much about it, burying it under layers of denial. But now, as his stomach churned and his senses sharpened in the dark, the memory surfaced unbidden. Two Legs could still recall the taste: metallic, warm, and laced with something unique, enough to raise his arms with little bumps that tickled his flesh.

His body tautened, the compulsion creeping over him like a tide. It was the same urge he'd fought when he'd first wanted to devour Sawyer, but different now—more insidious, like a whisper instead of a roar. He recoiled from it. He didn't want to hurt her, not anymore. That much he was sure of, but this new hunger was impulsive. He felt so confused, being hungry but not ... hungry . Not in the manner by which he was accustomed to.

By the time he stumbled into the bedroom to prepare the hammock above his bed, Two Legs was exhausted. That didn't stop him from doing a double-take. Sawyer lay curled on the mattress, her chest rising and falling steadily. The soft light from the moon poured through the window, catching on her hair and casting delicate shadows across her face. She must've wandered up alone, Two Legs remembering her passing out in the living room an hour or two ago while watching TV.

He froze in place, scanning her as something stirred. His gaze lingered too long, breath catching in his throat as his vision glitched. He was drawn to the pulse at her neck, the fragile curve of her shoulder. All he had to do was wander over. All he had to do was act.

After all, she was his pet.

The spider and frog.

After all, he wanted her.

He could have her.

Consume her.

Her ...

The trance broke, leaving him unnerved. Without a second thought, Two Legs ventured downstairs, grabbed his coat, and slipped outside, needing the night air to clear his head.

The quiet of the woods shrouded him as he walked, his feet crunching softly against the ground. For a while, his thoughts stilled, the cool air soothing the feverish warmth that had taken hold, but he came to a halt like before. His brain seemingly honed in on an impulse that needed to be taken care of, like a severe itch that needed to be scratched until it bled raw.

Two Legs found himself on his hands and knees not long after, digging almost ritualistically. He didn't know why he was doing it, only that it felt necessary—that he needed to do this, or the pillars keeping him afloat and human would fall at the seams.

By dawn, a massive mandala-like structure had taken shape—a sprawling pattern etched into the dirt with meticulous detail, with rocks and pebbles highlighting certain curves. He stepped back, studying the intricate swirls and lines, allowing himself to breathe as his body finally shuddered, clothes covered in grime and dirt, chemicals zipping through his brain and bloodstream.

It was beautiful, and it was hers.

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thebisexualmandalorian · 3 months ago

Text

50 OC Questions - Jake Fox edition

From this post!

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?

Jacob Lane Fox. He named himself after his parents, it’s his way of keeping his mother alive.

2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?

He made Private First Class in his Army career before everything went to hell, and then he ended up as Special Operations Agent in the BSAA - I haven’t entirely worked out how specific ranks work in the Agency.

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?

That’s… complicated. He considers it a very good childhood. He was cared for, happy, and loved, despite a rough start. He doesn’t consider himself traumatized, despite witnessing his mother’s murder during a domestic violence episode - he remembers it, but he’s buried that.

Gloria and Marie are his moms, and as far as he’s concerned, they’re the best parents he could ask for. They did their best by him, raised him with love and everything he needed, and he adores them. It wasn’t always sunshine and roses, and they never had much, but it was enough. He grew up a happy, half-wild kid in the swamps, riding four wheelers and hunting and working on the small farm, and he would never ask for anything different.

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?

For his bio parents, he remembers his mother dancing with him in the living room to zydeco, laughing and having fun. He remembers she had sad eyes but the prettiest smile. She was the first person to call him Jake, and he loves her still. His memories of his father are less pleasant, but he wasn’t always a monster. He still has nightmares about him though.

He was six when he lost both parents, and his last memory of his father is something monstrous chasing him through the trees.

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?

Nope, no siblings, at least in most verses.

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

Jake got the “he’s a good student when he applies himself” discussion a lot. Undiagnosed ADHD made for a rough time in Catholic school, and while he did his best, he just couldn’t make himself focus on subjects he didn’t care as much about. He was fantastic at languages, and taught himself more of them once he ran out of classes to take. He didn’t take well to science.

7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood?

Yes and no. He was pretty well liked - he was charming and fun - but he didn’t have a lot of friends. Lucas Baker was his best friend for most of their childhoods, though he became closer with Zoe once Lucas’ true colors started to show.

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?

Jake loves animals, and he’d like a dog someday, when his life settles down and he’s not out of town more often than not. He didn’t grow up with a pet per se, just the barn cats and whatever stray animals wandered around.

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?

Dogs like him more than cats do, he’s a bit too restless to get on well with cats.

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect?

Jake likes kids well enough, and kids love him. He’s thought about kids, but he’s still not sold on the idea. (Part of it being his own issues regarding his bio parents.) He’d be a really fun caretaker, if a bit permissive.

11. Do they have any special diet requirements? Are they a vegetarian? Vegan? Have any allergies?

He’ll eat anything offered to him; he’s a very adventurous eater. Mercifully, no food allergies.

12. What is their favourite food?

Marie’s chicken etouffee.

13. What is their least favourite food?

He tried sauteed spinach once.

14. Do they have any specific memories of food/a restaurant/meal?

He helped out in the kitchen a lot growing up, and he has so many fond memories of the small kitchen back home, helping his mamas by peeling potatoes or mixing up a dredge while they listened to music.

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

He’s a damn good cook, and loves doing it, though he mainly cooks for other people.

16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it?

His apartment is full of stuff he’s collected over the years. He has little trinkets on every surface, and tons of blankets he’s brought home laying around for anyone who needs one.

17. Do they like to take photos? What do they like to take photos of? Selfies? What do they do with their photos?

Yes! He has photos pinned to every wall of him and his friends and people he meets.

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else

He loves thrillers most. Think Tom Clancy and the like.

19. What’s their least favourite genres?

Zombie horror, I’m sure you can guess why.

20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when they’re favourite song comes?

He always has music playing - any genre, though pop and country are his most played. He likes musicals, when he can sit through them. He loves dancing to music, though he’s not the best at it.

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

He does have a temper, as much as he’s afraid of it. He burns with anger, and tries to save that for people who deserve it, but that doesn’t always work out as much as he’d like it to. He tends to lash out, harsh and sharp and over as quickly as it came on.

22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?

He talks a lot of shit, but most of it is good-natured teasing with his teammates. He doesn’t like talking behind someone’s back, except to warn others about particular officers to avoid.

23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces?

He has a pretty good long term memory, short term is very dependent on how much he’s slept. He’s better with faces than names, but he’s friendly enough to cover that up easily.

24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?

He snores a little, if he’s sleeping hard. His sleeping habits are a mess, and he tends to be awake at odd hours. When he does sleep, he prefers to be in a nest of pillows if he’s somewhere he can do that, but otherwise, he tucks himself into a small nook, preferably up high with a good line of sight, though Chris finds him asleep under his desk frequently.

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

Jake loves to laugh. His main coping mechanism is turning traumatic events into jokes.

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?

He covers a lot of his negative emotions, because he doesn’t want to let them coalesce into anger. He prefers to be cheerful, and he’ll hold onto what joy he finds with both hands.

27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad?

He hides when he’s sad, because he doesn’t want to burden others with it - they have enough to deal with, and he’s afraid of being too much because he feels everything so strongly. He doesn’t often cry, but he gets melancholic and has depressive episodes from dealing with the worst of humanity.

28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?

His biggest fear is losing his people. He loves with all of himself, and he’s responsible for making sure his team gets back home (at least in his mind), and the thought of some of them not making it home because of his failure terrifies him. He keeps that pretty firmly locked down though.

29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective?

He wouldn’t make fun of them, he’s not that kind of asshole. If he can, he’ll offer to help them work through it.

30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?

If he doesn’t run five miles a day, he’ll disassemble someone’s couch. He needs so much

exercise just to keep him at a reasonable level of energy.

31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?

He drinks, probably more than he should. He’s a flirty drunk, and very very cuddly. He has to be touching at least one person, if he can’t be draped across multiple laps at once. He’s also the kind of annoying person who doesn’t get bad hangovers, and everyone kind of hates him for it - that does mean he’s happy to cook breakfast for them though, so he’s mostly forgiven.

32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?

If he’s not in uniform, he’s in tees and jeans that he picks up from like, Walmart. He steals hoodies from anyone that doesn’t keep theirs under lock and key though. If he wears anything to sleep, it’s just a pair of boxers.

He’s been known to wear eyeliner or lip gloss, though not very often, and his hair is very out of military regulations, much to Piers’ vocal dismay - it’s the same style he had as a teen, before he shaved it for the Army.

33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties?

Jake likes boxers mostly, though he’ll go for briefs at times. Nights out, he’ll sometimes go for lace, but only if he’s sure it’ll show.

34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body?

Jake likes his body well enough; it looks good and it works well, and that’s what’s most important to him. He’s 5’10, but just taller than Piers, and he adores that. He looks a lot less muscular than he is - he can easily haul Chris in field gear if he needs to.

35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure?

The concept of guilty pleasure escapes him. He’s a hedonist, always chasing the next fun thing to try.

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?

He’s a damn good cook, and he likes cooking for people. He’s a little offkey when he sings, but the enthusiasm makes up for it. Otherwise, it’s linguistics, and he’s constantly collecting new languages. He’s fluent in half a dozen, and at least conversational in a few more.

37. Do they like to read? Are they a fast or slow reader? Do they like poetry? Fictional or non fiction?

He likes reading, but it’s really hard for him to focus on it, so most things are read a few pages at a time and then forgotten for a few weeks. He likes trashy spy or military thrillers, even though he has to refresh his memory on the plots frequently.

38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?

He admires integrity, strength, and leadership; it’s part of what drew him to Chris. He wishes he could read more easily.

39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging?

Texting is the fastest way to get a response from him. He loves getting letters, and he always plans to respond to them, but he gets distracted.

40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?

Jake lives on energy drinks and sugar. He’s a hummingbird, and cookies are the way to his heart.

41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?

His sexuality is, primarily, yes. He appreciates physical prowess - he tends to go for current or ex-military - but for something more than a hookup, he wants a partner that’s kind to others, and patient. He needs reassurance that everything is okay, and that he’s still wanted.

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

His dream is to see the end of bio organic warfare during his lifetime, though realistically he doesn’t know if that will happen. Ultimately, he just wants to keep as many people safe as he can, and protect his people.

His secret dream is to marry Chris.

43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people?

Jake is… not not religious. He draws comfort from the familiarity, even though he doesn’t believe in any kind of merciful god, after what he’s seen. He doesn’t really trust religious people, except for Marie, because he’s witnessed too many people use their religion as an excuse to harm others. Nonreligious people are fine, unless they use their lack of religion to be cruel.

44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most?

His favorite season is spring, and he loves sunny days when he can be outside and enjoying the weather. He doesn’t do well with heat - it’s the one thing he doesn’t miss about Louisiana. The second it gets over 70 degrees or humid, he’s bitching.

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?

46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?

Jake tries so hard to make a good first impression. He’s well aware that he can come off as weird or too enthusiastic, and he tries to tone that down to be “normal.” It doesn’t always work, but he does his best.

47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event?

He doesn’t like being stuck in his dress blacks for events, but he tries to make the best of it, and he can usually find at least one person to chat with. He turns on the charm and bites his tongue (for once) and then escapes when he can.

48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend?

He loves parties - he’s the kind of guy that goes to parties and leaves with at least a couple of new friends. Most of the parties he organizes are with his friends and family, and he’s always the one in the kitchen making sure there’s enough food and drinks for everyone.

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?

His most treasured item is the one photo he has of his mother, on the day of her wedding. He keeps that locked up in a fireproof safe, just in case. He’s very sentimental, but the one thing he carries with him is the rosary Marie gave him when he left for boot camp.

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

If it was moving, he’d take as many photos as he could - they’re how he anchors himself in his world.

#jake fox #my ocs #resident evil ocs

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