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[bludthirsty-blog]

tevgreenai:

The woman’s question was foolish, but perhaps she was suffering from the mental effects of too much sun and heat and was not thinking at her best. Tev endeavored to be polite yet still accurate: “No,” ki said, speaking a little slowly in case the woman was having trouble thinking, “I am not alone.” Ki extended a hand from the blanket to point at the woman in the truck. “You are here,” ki added gently, just in case the woman was still having trouble making the connection. “But I’m not waiting for anyone, no,” ki continued, since the woman had asked more than one question and it would be rude to only reply to one of them. “You’re the only other person out here that I’ve seen recently.”

Ki glanced around at the empty desert and jagged rocks and the long, flat expanse of earth that stretched out away from them without so much as a puff of dust to indicate the presence of another living creature – not that that meant there were none out here, of course; ki had passed by a wasteworm tunnel only two miles back, although from the dust that had gathered across it, it was an old one. Still, it had been enough to increase kirs usual sense of prudence, and when ki had felt the first inkling of an oncoming shut-down ki had settled on the first piece of rocky ground ki had found rather than walking on and hoping for a more secure place – and possibly being able to find only a riskier one. Tev did not attract much interest from wasteworms, or at least ki had not so far, but ki definitely didn’t want to reboot inside ones guts.

“I’ve never been in a boat,” Tev said quietly. “I think I’d like to. I think that would be interesting. Have you? Been in a boat, I mean?” Ki looked back up at the woman and pushed the blanket back off kirs shoulders so ki could see her better. “Do you have a boat?” Tev would trade everything ki had and more for that kind of a chance – not that ki where around here a person would use a boat, but still – it sounded marvelous. Then ki frowned and added, “Although I’m not sure a boat would be the best thing to use if you wanted to run…”

Leona’s fingers curled around her pistol at the stranger’s admission of them not being alone and she quickly scanned the horizon for signs of an ambush. She relaxed a bit when the girl explained what she meant, but it wasn’t enough. As she continued to speak, however, Leona began to catch on to her strange, literal way of thinking. She wasn’t aware of mindcook having negative symptoms, but that was what made sense. Flat emotional affect, poverty of speech.... It fit, and Leona dreaded the day she progressed to that stage.

“Yeah, I’ve been in a boat, but it was a figure of speech.” She shook her head to clear her thoughts, then unlocked the passenger side door with a quiet click. “Get in quick; I’m wasting the A/C here.” Leona rolled up her window and waited for her guest to climb in, arranging her complex system of fans so most of the cool air would hit her guest, she looked like she needed it.

Speaking of looking, the other seemed much older up close. Yes, her skin was fairer and her eyes clearer than most of those still left, and she certainly had a certain... naivete about her, but she was not a child.

“So, Leona said casually, locking the doors once more and kicking dear Rooney into gear before regarding her guest more closely. “What rock have you been living under?” Damn, more idioms. “I mean, how did you get all the way out here by yourself?”

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sparksfoster:

His eyes flicked to meet hers, he tried to get a read on who she was– what she truly wanted. Promises of food, water, and shelter didn’t come without a price. At least not one that was as simple as repairing a truck. Still, she seemed genuine and he even contemplated helping out just for something to do other than scavenging and checking in with the same old settlements he visited every week. He was going to accept her offer, until she referenced a child.

Sparks gnawed at the inside of his cheek, considering her offer carefully. “Fuck off.” Was his immediate response, his cheeks turned red with a bubbling anger as he pulled the strap of his backpack harder. He shut his eyes tightly against the influx of pain that coursed through his body like a hit of Mother’s Milk– at least the drug numbed him without it, he was putty in the hands of his own emotions.

With a deep breath, he continued trudging forward, one foot in front of the other as he tried to ignore the shaking in his hands– he stuffed them in his pockets to hide it. There was an old house about a mile away from the markets that he used sometimes to stockpile parts and food. He figured he’d hide out there until he was sure the merchant would forget his face.

“Hey!” Leona was tired. All her offers had been more than fair, and she wanted nothing more than to get back on the road. This Sparks was the last name she had, and even another hour is Colorado Springs would be too damn much. He didn’t stop to look at her and she waited a few seconds in angry disbelief before sprinting after him. He was moving slowly, almost limping, but even if her mechanic had the good sense to run, it wouldn’t have mattered.

She was on him in an instant, tackling him, using the full weight of her (surprisingly heavy) body to hold him to the ground. “I’m done playing nice,” she hissed, pulling out a knife and slowly, almost lazily, ran it up his cheek. “You’re gonna do what I say, when I say it, and maybe you get to walk out of this will all your parts still attached.” She pressed the blade against the corner of his eye, cutting Sparks a stream of bloody tears for emphasis. When he managed something that she was (liberally) able to take as a grunt of agreement or a nod, Leona eased up a little, moving her weight off of his chest so he could breathe a little easier, 

“I’m not gonna kill you unless you make me.” Leona smoothed some of his hair back behind his ear and looked around to see if anyone was going to investigate their little commotion. No one, so far. Luck was on her side, for once, “Be good for me and I’ll let you up.”

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dorianhawthorne:

People did whatever they could to survive. Murder was more commonplace than anything, much faster solution to end a problem. Stealing, raiding, trading– whatever got people by. Any sense of morality flew up past the clouds with the last ship of people. But when Dorian heard the voice of the woman, he couldn’t help the glare cast in her direction. He didn’t have to have spoken with her to know about her; everyone in Torchlight knew what she did. It was one thing to stab someone in the front, but a backstabber was a whole other kind of low to Dorian.

Shrek seemed to have a name and, apparently, a friend in Leona since he actually acknowledged her with a side glance. His hold on Dorian stayed until she poured out the bottle of water on the ground. He was quick to let him go then, Dorian barely catching himself on Roscoe’s stall before he would have fallen on his ass. 

Ross let out a stream of curses and before he could bother to turn his rage on her, she mentioned a few things he owed her. That seemed to set him straight and he grumbled something about getting the fucking parts and dealing with Dorian later. 

Dorian turned his gaze back to Leona, brow furrowed. “Surprised to see you’re still here with us.” There was a biting tone to his words, anything but genuine or glad knowing she was fine. Whatever deal she made with Valeris Corp apparently fell through, otherwise, he would have had the life squeezed out of him by that asshole. The only silver lining, he figured.

Leona grinned as she heard Ross clunking around in the back of the shop, cursing and grunting and he threw the wares around, searching for parts that, in all likelihood, weren’t there. She had fallen far, to the point where ‘fuckin’ psycho bitch’ had become a term of endearment and this was what counted as positive human contact, but it wasn’t rock bottom. Leona well knew she was better off than most of those who remained.

Her smile faltered and fell away when the stranger spoke. She didn’t think she’d seen him before, or, like many, she had and had forgotten, but either way it didn’t matter. “Yeah, turns out I get really space sick,” she lied. “Decided it was best I stay here.” Leona fiddled with the cap on the water bottle before tossing it his way. “Don’t worry about Ross,” she added, sensing the stranger’s hesitation, though she was fairly sure it was about her more than anything else. “He’s just a big, dumb puppy.”

She sat back up and impatiently drummed her fingers on the desk. She didn’t want to seem desperate for human contact, but, well, she was. The guilt could be buried and justified, but her loneliness couldn’t be outrun.

“So, assuming you already know my secrets, it’s only fair that I get a few of yours. Who are you?”

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 empyrhien:

Eva’s fondest memory was of the sea.

– -She glided on butterfly wings, fresh eyes watching the gentle lap of the water as it waved at her from over the rocks. One step after another, she could reach her hands out and pick, pick, pick close enough to touch the water. But just as she would get close enough to hold the crystalline blue in her hands– -the world would circle and the wind would toss her hair and play its chiming song to her ears, as she was spun in giddy circles and brought back down to the earth that kept her safe and steady.

                 ( If it wasn’t the ground holding her steady, then it was the arms of a mother and father keeping her anchored–safe. )

“ 돌다리도 두들겨 보고 건너라  ” Her mother’s voice was softer than the breeze, the smile on her face a petal of mauve lips as she tapped her nose and pulled the light chime of a laugh from the child. “We look before we leap, Euna.” The words carried on the sing-song of the melodies the wind sang to her, but it was her mother saying the words–and they shone bright in a young Eva’s mind. Bright and warm like the sun keeping shining on them even on the cold bay side of a cloudy San Francisco day. “모든 당신을 위해 ” And Eva believed those words–she did. Warm brown eyes turned to meet the reach of the endless that was so thrilling to the heart of a child, she remembered what it felt like to be held in a mother’s arms with her hair smoothed back and the promise in her words warm and bright. “The sea is all for you, my Euna.”

                 ( Eva couldn’t remember the last time she felt the lap of waves on her toes or the sight of the ocean waving its hellos & goodbyes to her. Then again, some days she couldn’t remember the way her mother’s hand had felt on when smoothing back her hair, or the way her name sounded on her father’s tongue. It balanced out, she supposed. )– -

But this was not the ocean. The air did not taste of salt water crystallized on lips. It tasted like sunlight dried and curled until it was bitter, acrid and unyielding. The wind did not sing symphonies in her ear. It whipped in low howls that sounded like accusations and condemnations, gouging skin & flesh. The sun did not shine to keep her warm. The sun shone to rage its own war against those who had thought themselves bigger than it–                               –for those who had looked to the stars and thought themselves conquerors. 

She had been stupid to come out here to meet the dealer alone–it was a fool’s gamble, one she was smarter than to risk. And she had done it anyway. Eva didn’t think herself one of those imbued with the enticement of self-destruction, but she had thrown her caution to the raging wind and done it nevertheless. ( They all had their indulgences. )

Eva could not tell if the sound of warring rubber on sand was another cull of her mind as it sang venomous lullabies under the guise of the fading sunbeams. She hoped it to be, even as she turned to assess the ( very palpable ) tangibility of it. 

That was a voice she had not heard in what seemed a turn of a century. ( What was time to the forgotten, anyway. )  The sun was setting, though she still had to shield her eyes to bring her gaze up in confirming assessment. That was her, alright–Leona. The traitor; the scorned. ( Neither too uncommon a title now, though the cut of her sins still bled fresh in the mind of many Rebels. Eva would not deny herself as one, even if bloodthirsty had never been her coat of armor. )     

If she would have been in better stride, perhaps she would have denied the help out of pride or some form of respect to the kinship they had once shared. They had not been friends in the whole measure–there was no time for kinship in war, it seemed–but they had been sisters-in-arms. Or so she they had thought. All the better for the small talk to be entertained on the journey home, then.

Instincts for preservation stronger than the weight of the sour taste in her mouth, Eva hauled herself up by the handle of the monster of a truck that served as her steed. Pulling herself in and shutting the door with the creaking sigh of a beast at reluctant rest, she paused only to pull the scarf that covered the exposed of her mouth and neck, and place the heavy of her duffel in front of her. She swiped at the dry crack of her skin to rid herself of the sand, still tasting the burn of it on her tongue nevertheless–that never went away. Her voice, as it bloomed between them, was a steeled armor shining ice cold to touch.

“The bastards in suits didn’t pay you enough to keep you out of the wastes, huh. Guess those Rebel lives are trading for cheaper than I remember.”

Eva looked rough. Well, they all looked rough, but with Eva it was something different. Before, she had been akin to a force of nature, but now she was as human as the rest of them. Leona figured the saying wasn’t true, that sometimes the good lived along with the rest of the world. It was a pity in so many ways. Leona bit back a complaint at the sand that was piling up on the floor of her cabin and wordlessly handed Eva her canteen. She looked like she needed it.

She grinned at Eva’s accusations and shook her head before kicking Rooney back into gear. “Who says I don’t want to be here?” Leona had given up the fantasy of being able to explain herself, how she wasn’t willing to waste what love she had on the hordes of dirty and impoverished, how Kate was the only person who mattered. Even if she got that far it would only serve to tarnish her beloved’s reputation. Better to be an unthinking apostate, as there weren’t words for what she was. Her loyalty was limited, but ran deep.

“Besides, life is worthless. Death is what costs.” Leona readjusted her mirrors and sighed heavily. She wanted to ask Eva about their old comrades, who was alive, who was left, and who had managed to find their peace in the great beyond, but Leona had given up her rights to that sort of talk.

“So, where are we going?”

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tevgreenai:

Tev pushed the blanket back off kirs forehead enough that ki could see the woman who was talking to kir. The look of her face was pleasant and it was uncommonly kind for someone to be concerned with the health of a total stranger the way she was, so Tev curled kirs lips up into a smiling expression. “Are lead-lined blankets common?” ki asked. “They sound practical, but not very comfortable. Or can lead be spun like thread? It is soft, I suppose…”

Ki blinked and frowned and adjusted the blanket so that it was casting shade acorss kirs forehead again. The temperature outside was still climbing, and Tev could tell that kirs own interior temperature would soon reach the tipping-point between awareness and shut-down. That was why ki had doffed the blanket: the meager shade it offered would do only a little to delay the shut-down process, but it would help kir reboot faster and in the meantime, would serve as a rudimentary concealment. When kirs limbs locked hard in the shut-down paralysis it would be impossible for the wind – or any curious wild creatures – to pry the blanket out of kirs hands. It wasn’t much of a shield, being only cloth, but it was better than nothing and so far Tev had survived the wastes with little other protection. It seemed that in kirs shut-down state few creatures, humans included, considered kir worth bothering with.

This woman did not know that of course, so her unneeded solicitude was kind. “I will be fine,” Tev assured her. “But I am appreciative of your concern.” Ki thought about it a moment and then said, “Unless you are offering a ride?” While the heat couldn’t harm kir, there was nothing fun about a temperature-induced shut-down; there was nothing about a shut-down that was anything, because Tev wasn’t functional to experience it. In the woman’s truck, with the shade of the roof overhead and the wind moving through the windows, Tev would cool down enough to continue functioning without requiring a heat-venting shut-down. That sounded like a much more pleasant option it it was indeed available.

Leona was quite surprised to see the pretty young woman--no, girl--hiding under the ragged, filthy blanket. This could be a trap, it was common enough. Leave a defenseless pretty thing out in the open to draw in a passing stranger looking to save her (or do the opposite) while her companions waiting behind some other sand dune would strike as soon as the passerby was vulnerable. It took Leona a minute to realize that the other was speaking, droning on and on about the various properties of lead. Not something bait usually said.

When she let the blanket fall back down over her face and gave Leona a few rote reassurances, Leona began to think that this was exactly what it looked like, and the thought worried her. Kate might have been a better influence on her than either of them had thought, but she wasn’t going to leave her stranded out in the Wastes. She had a bit of a heart left. Aside, when people started politely refusing offers you hadn’t made it was a sure sign that was what they really wanted.

“Are you, ah, you alone?” It was a stupid question to ask, given that they were both in the middle of nowhere and of course the girl could lie, but Leona wanted at least some sort of reassurance before she offered any sort of hospitality. Gifting of supplies was one thing, but inviting a stranger in to her inner sanctum was another. “As in, are you waiting for someone? I don’t want anyone to come after me for giving you a ride.” God, she hated herself. So soft! “If you’re running from someone, that’s different. I think we’ve all been in that boat.”

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thenebulous:

Blackhearted people ruled the world, now. Civilians that had once linked arms and railed against a great evil now disassembled, broke apart, and ravaged one another. He watched from a long stretch of shadow as the great, lumbering truck hissed to a halt. He didn’t speak, but kept his eyes locked on the aquiline features of the woman perched in the safety of her cab. Solas was no hero — rather, he wasn’t stupid. He had witnessed heroes fall alongside villains for too long. The same red spilled out of them, and the same unforgiving desert ate their remains. It was kill or be killed. Take, or be taken.

As the huddled mass stood from the craggy ground, loose sand swirled in the cool, dawn air. The chill of night had begun to subside, slipping through the cracks in the earth like spirits chased away by the glare of dawn. Rather than taking the woman’s advice and high-tailing it out of sight, the cloaked form lingered there as if debating. Then croaked out an expletive: “Bitch.” He saw a hand riddled with third degree burns rise from the folds of the blanket, digits warped around a pump-action shotgun. “Get the fuck outta the truck.”

Solas pushed himself off the brick wall, intrigued by the foolish gesture of confidence. Soundless steps drew him up behind the figure, and he landed a casual (and debilitating) blow to the cook of their neck. They crumpled in an instant, the shotgun clattering on the parched earth musically. Knocked out cold. Solas peered down at the pool of fabric for a moment, then lifted his gaze to the woman in the truck. “Were you actually going to let them get away, or were you just playing with your food?”

“Bitch,” the word echoed in her ears and Leona couldn’t help but smile. This beast’s crass attempt at intimidation was almost charming.They had a blind faith in their abilities that Leona envied--while she had the skill and firepower to back up her threats, but still felt the cold breath of doubt wherever she went. This creature had no such hesitancy. “Get the fuck outta the truck.” The raiders claimed they gained the talents of those they consumed; this one didn’t look like good meat but she’d be damned if she gave up on such an opportunity so easily. When science failed, superstition was all that was left.

Leona moved to draw her gun when the hooded figure emerged from the predawn haze. He moved with intensity and purpose and she cocked her head to one side as he struck her prey down. She felt a selfish little pang at having to share what little they had on them, but stopped herself. There was poetry in his brutal efficiency, and that was worth investigating..

She shook her head at his question, grin widening in honest curiosity rather than menace. “It depends. If they deserve to live and look like they would make it, I let them go. Otherwise...” She flicked her hair back and shook her head. It was playing God, but considering she was pretending at the mercy rather than the power, Leona figured there wasn’t much harm in her games. It saved lives, keeping her engaged and sparing the few who met her on a good day. “And what about you? You planning to finish the job?”

[bludthirsty-blog]

When a devil falls in love, it’s the most hauntingly beautiful thing ever. And you should be terrified, for she will go to the depths of hell for her beloved.

(via stylestagram1x1)

[bludthirsty-blog]

There were two types of people Leona dealt with in Colorado city: people who were too fresh to know what she had done and people who were too foolish to care. Roscoe was one was of her favorites because he was a rare breed who was both but would swear up and down that he was neither. His one unflattering quality was that he was a cheat, and a heavy-handed one at that. She’d only walked away after he’d given her the wrong parts to see how he would celebrate his success and that, apparently, was attack the person unfortunate enough to enter his dusty little shop. She would have picked something a bit more subtle, but to each their own.

“I gave you the fuckin’ madcaps, and now I need to fix my truck. Put him down, Ross.” Leona picked up the offending water bottle, cracked it open, and took a long swig before pouring the rest of it out on the ground, the red dirt floor turning to a sticky mud beneath her feet. Yes, it was liquid gold, but at the moment she had enough and couldn’t be bothered to care about wasting other’s. She took another from the table and unscrewed the cap.

“Where’s my alternator? Where’d my VR battery?” Leona sighed dramatically, settling down into Roscoe’s chair and propping her feet up on his desk. “I thought you were better than this. Really.”

Dorian never liked staying at Colorado Springs for too long. He only went there to trade or pick up jobs in exchange for supplies and as soon as the deals were done, he made his way back to Fervention. He had a room at The Legless Man that he stayed in often mostly after a long night of drinking. Otherwise he found a home to duck into and spent the night there. But with how late he arrived at Colorado Springs, he had no choice but to stick it out overnight. But while he was there, he figured he would do some trading.

Bartering was hard enough as it was. But when the person he was trying to talk to refused to budge on any offered he made, Dorian started to get a little irked. He thought he was making a pretty solid deal: rare parts he had picked up from a run down auto shop for one bottle of fresh water. He even threw in some food. But the guy wanted more food.

“Oh come on,” he started, “all that for one bottle of water? Two, sure, but one?”

“Two rations of food and the scrap for the water,” the man insisted.

“Scrap? This is–”

“Two rations of food and the scrap, or you get jack shit.”

“Like you’re worth as much,” he muttered.

Before he could get another word in, the guy’s large paw of a hand was around his throat, practically lifting him off the ground. Dorian’s hands gripped at the guy’s wrist, knuckles white as he tried to breathe.

“I’m fuckin’ done talking to you, asshole,” the man growled out, his grip tighter on Dorian’s throat. Well, so much for bartering…

[bludthirsty-blog]

wraithesca:

Dillinger Market was a harrowing trek, but its extremes were intensified when a duffel crammed with newly acquired supplies sunk you further into heated sands. The weight of what he’d acquired in order to sustain life was merciless against an unfaltering wasteland. His sniper rifle, recurve bow, quiver, dagger– they all but bit into his covered flesh while aiding in the pull down. Those who lived the way he did; they knew packing light was the only means of survival. Today, however, had not allowed him his usual effortless floating.

Sweat breached his brow, and he swiped the salted perspiration with the back of his hand. The worn leather of his boot met the peak of a hill. At its crater, a truck he’d come to know well– or the owner within its confines. He took the path down with careful, gliding strides. Raising the AR to his shoulder, Esca could see the projection of her gun through a crystalline scope. Nothing unusual about that.

“I’d have fired already,” the Wraith announced upon his arrival. His arms folded atop the open driver side window. Peering through the vehicle’s interior, he was met with what her voice had been directed at, and dismissed it. “Still attempting to leave me poisoned goods?”

Leona grinned quietly as she glanced at her mirror and saw the Wraith creeping out of the dunes. He wasn’t quite as ghostly today, weighted down as he was, but that serious, cold demeanor could come from no one else. There had to be something else under that icy exterior, and even if there wasn’t, she was determined to keep teasing him as if there were.

“At that?” She gestured at the pile of rags that had begun to stumble away from them, either taking her advise or unwilling to take on two well-armed individuals at once. “Why waste a bullet?” She was fairly sure that wasn’t what he was talking about, at least, not entirely, but it felt nice to pretend.

Instead of directly answering his accusation, Leona pulled a bundle of strawberries from a hidden compartment under the passenger seat and ate one, juice running down her chin. This was her first harvest so far and, God, how she’d missed the taste. “Not poisoned,” she finally said before offering him some of the fruit. “I’m just nice and know it won’t be wasted on you, since you stubbornly refuse to die like everybody else wants you to.” His expression of stoic disbelief was a thing of beauty and Leona laughed. Esca wanted to kill her much, much less than any of the others she’d left behind, and that was something she enjoyed. “Eat the damn strawberries, comrade. They’re good.”

[bludthirsty-blog]

mercermagician:

“Oh right.” Had she been panicky sounding? Damn. The screaming must have really pushed her past the breaking point. There’s no coming back into the non-panicky territory once you’ve squealed. “Sorry. I’m just not really the badass sort like most people that are still around. I get nervous.” Zelda began to bit softly on her thumbnail, thinking that she would probably never lose her skittishness.

It was her nature. It was her. If she wasn’t skittish and rambling and panicked, then was she still Zelda? Or would she become a new person entirely? “Just until I feel a little less crazy and blistery. I’d been in the sun too long.”

“I’d say badass is a nice way to put it, but yes.” Softness was a virtue. One that was more likely than not to get one killed, but it made life more livable for those who were left over. “Also: once fine-tuned, fear is a tool. Use it.”

Leona hopped on top of one of the cabinets and lightly drummed her feet against the metal, enjoying the sound. She was unwilling to knowingly wander an abandoned building when there was another person--a potential threat--nearby, even if said threat was as unlikely as this girl. Desperate people did desperate things.

“Well, that’s not gonna get better anytime soon. You either live underground or you get cooked. The concrete walls here are a nice idea, but the windows...” Leona tsked softly. Crystal was the only way to go in this day and age; it was a shame it was so expensive back when things were bring made. “If you can find a lead apron, that would help too. Go back to where you found your lab coat. If they were working with physics or health and haven’t been completely looted, you can find one.” Most of this was probably common knowledge, but it was much better for her to come off as helpful and simple than anything else.

[bludthirsty-blog]

@empyrhien

She hadn’t spoken to Eva since before the ships left. Hadn’t needed to. The other woman hadn’t come after her and they were never close enough for her to merit a goodbye letter. Leona still thought of her occasionally, usually with some degree of fondness, but that bridge had been well and truly burned. Molotoved, to not put too fine a point on it.

As things were, she wasn’t quite sure whether or not is was her standing out in the middle of the Wastes. Leona was no stranger to guilty visions so it was possible--probably even--that the figure she was in the distance really wasn’t Eva, or wasn’t there at all. With the option of driving an extra fifty miles to avoid that particular patch or barreling through in hopes that this was just another gift from the mindcook, Leona chose the latter: she was low on gas and confident in her psychosis.

When she was about 50 yards away, Leona realized her mistake. She swore viciously in languages she forgot she knew, but slowed down,  gritting her teeth as Rooney’s engine complained at the abrupt change in speed. Still, she sputtered to a stop and rolled down her window, looking down on her former sister-in-arms.

“You look like you could use a ride.”

[bludthirsty-blog]

Rooney had been sick for a while now, coughing red, stinking smoke and taking far, far longer than she should to get going. Leona had done the best she could to fix up her truck, but it was apparent now that even her best efforts were not going to be enough. She’s been looking for a suitable mechanic for the past week or so, and while she’d gone through several candidates, none had quite been what she’d looking for. It hadn’t all been a loss of course--some had gone on to stock her larder--but Rooney wasn’t any closer to getting fixed. From what she’d heard, this man might be the best answer to her problem.

He was clever, though, which might be more of a problem for her than an asset. Leona quietly eyed the ring of bruises blossoming around his neck and smiled. “Nothing... Unless you are who I think you are. My baby is sick.”

From the look in his eyes she could tell she’d said something off and quickly backtracked. “No! No, my baby is a truck. An 18-wheeler. Not like,” she sneered in disgust at the thought of someone selfish enough to bring a child into this world, “a human infant.”

“I can take care of your food and lodging for as long as you’re working for me, as well as any parts you might need. Discretion, however, is of utmost importance.” This was where most of her others had gone wrong. Leona knew she was a wealthy woman in these times, and while she may have been generous, she was not a fool.

“Are you interested?”

“I wasn’t stealin’ anything. Unless you count some bolts.”

Deep brown eyes were inches away from icy blues, the heat of the merchant’s breath encompassed his entire face while blowing a stench akin to rotting flesh straight into his nose. It took all of his strength to keep himself from retching and offending the man– no, mongrel– even further. The scarred hand pressed against Sparks’ throat was doing him no favors, a buzz began to fill his head and every intake of air became more of a struggle. 

“I’ll… make ya… a deal.” Each word felt like fire kindling the already minuscule opening of his throat. His proposition seemed to strike a chord with the vendor, though, who soon released Sparks to bend over and heave for air. Deep purple bruises already began to form where the hand once strangled him. The merchant grew impatient and kicked at Sparks’ leg as he struggled to catch his breath. “Ok, I’ll give you three day’s supply of food if you let me go with the bolts.” An audible groan of disapproval erupted from the merchant and Sparks reverted, “No bolts… no bolts! Just rations, hear me?” He stood up straighter  and held out his hand, “We’ll forget this ever happened.” 

The negotiations seemed to satiate his captor, who nodded and took his hand, making sure to squeeze it tightly enough that Sparks feared the bones would break. Like a good deal-maker, he handed over the bolts and three packages of food from his pack, all of which the merchant scrutinized carefully before giving a final warning and telling him to scram. Taking his wise words of advice, Sparks shouldered his pack and limped down the street, his eyes daring anyone to confront him. 

“What’re you lookin’ at?” His fingers twiddled with the bolts in his pocket that he’d managed to snatch prior to being caught.

[bludthirsty-blog]

[bludthirsty-blog]

If ever you wish the sun stricken from sight I would have it gone for you by fall of night For you my love I would have the stars & planets align And with the rings of Saturn, love, make your hand mine

[bludthirsty-blog]

[bludthirsty-blog]

Sun sets in the West, and I know the blood is strong And I shall pass the test, and I shall right the wrong And I will take your hand, and I shall walk you home For the Devil knows his own, or so they say Yes the devil knows his own