defiantace

[defiantace]

Immediately, Jack stopped talking.  Fuck, if Jake knew something about the terrible-smelling smoke Lamb used, he was the expert here.  He couldn’t breathe.  Not when Jake needed him with unfucked up lungs.  

The experiment’s comment about his yarn had been flippant.  An attempt to make sure Jake didn’t know they were both scared.  He wondered if it worked.  Now, how did they get out of this smoke-infested hole?

"I can still smell it, you know. I can't forget that smell."

Jack wrinkled his nose and nodded.  Ever since Lamb had decided to use something Jake called white phosphorus on them, this awful smell had been everywhere.  “Next time, warn me when fucking Lamb decides she’s gonna do something to us!  I can’t get that smell outta my yarn!”

[defiantace]

"I can still smell it, you know. I can't forget that smell."

Jack wrinkled his nose and nodded.  Ever since Lamb had decided to use something Jake called white phosphorus on them, this awful smell had been everywhere.  “Next time, warn me when fucking Lamb decides she’s gonna do something to us!  I can’t get that smell outta my yarn!”

[defiantace]

Wartime Starters

"We have no choice. We have to go in there."

"Forged by fire, we are united in one cause!"

"We fight for our homes. We fight for our freedom. We fight for very survival."

"War never solved anything. It only makes life more miserable for everyone."

"We must delve into the darkness. Sometimes bad things have to be done for the good."

"Do you even hear yourself? What happened to you?"

"I'm not letting you go. They'll kill you."

"You want to do what? No. That's suicide."

"No, don't let practicality get in the way."

"We can do this. I know we can."

"Stand firm! We can take them!"

"I think we found your inner mad scientist."

"I can still smell it, you know. I can't forget that smell."

"We go in and hit them hard. They'll never know what happened."

"All we have to do is last the night. Reinforcements will come in the morning."

"We're going to win this one, aren't we?"

"Hey! Hey! Stay with me. Don't you fall asleep yet."

"Does anyone know we're here?"

"There's no damn reason why we're out here. We're all just killing one another."

"This is going to be a one way trip, isn't it?"

"How is any of this going to change anything?"

"We have to stop them here. We're the last line of defense."

"Does it matter what my gender is or the color of my skin? We're all dead if we don't win."

"I take orders from no man."

"We could run, you know."

"There's no such thing as bomb proof."

"Am I the last one?"

"Hope? There's no hope here."

"We aren't going to be able to tell who is who out there."

"Can we move through this fog?"

"I'm no hero. I just did my job."

"I don't know about you, but I expect to get out of this alive and in one piece."

[defiantace]

The Bar Scene [Flirting] - Send my muse one for their reaction!

"Can I buy you a drink?"

"I haven't noticed you here before, you don't come here often do you?"

"Are you really here alone? Want some company?"

"I'm sorry, I noticed you from across the bar and I felt the need to say hello."

"So, what will you be drinking?"

"I just had to point out that you are definitely the cutest here tonight."

"Would you like another one of those once you're finished drinking it?"

"Hi, I've not been in here before. Is it a nice environment usually?"

"Do you have any plans after this?"

"Would you like to go somewhere more private?"

[defiantace]

~CHRISTMAS~! RP Starters

"Ho-ho-holy shit it's almost Christmas."

"I see that you purposely gave the gingerbread men horrified expressions. I suppose it's so we feel bad as we eat them?"

"NO DON'T FLING YOURSELF AT THE TREE THIS ISN'T ELF."

"How come you're not on top of that tree, angel~?"

"You better not pout, you better not cry, you better good I'm telling you why— the in-laws are coming make a good impression."

"I'm not saying that you can't reach the top of the tree to put on the star...but you could just ask for help."

"Did you know it's scientifically proven that Santa won't come any faster if you keep sticking your head up the chimney?"

"DON'T TOUCH THE COOKIES THEY'RE NOT READY YET!"

"So...just you and me...y'know..chillin'...totally normal except HEY THERE'S SOME MISTLETOE UP THERE WOULD YOU LOOK aT tHAT WHAT A COINCEDENCE!"

"I brought you some hot chocolate while you wait for Santa."

"What do you want for Christmas again?"

"Why does Frosty the Snowman look like a demon?"

"Let's drink our sorrows out with the elves and some eggnog."

[defiantace]

@thefirstalpha

Jack pushed the knitting needles into Jake’s hands and glared at him.  “Y’ taught me ‘bout guns, which I still kinda hate ‘cept for that Thompson you gave me.  The Thompson is amazin’.  I’m gettin’ real good at firin’ her proper with your lessons.  Ain’t th’ point.  Point is, you make me do guns, I teach you to knit.  It’s useful!  ‘Sides, you’re awful cold in that suit of yours.  Make yourself a sweater so’s you don’t die of hypothermia.”

[defiantace]

"Thanks. Now you mention it, I'm feelin' a mite peckish." A lot more'n a mite, if he was honest. Nora kept doing these kind things for him--seemed there was always something to eat for him in the fridge lately--and he weren't sure he deserved it.

Still. The pangs of hunger in his stomach were getting too hard to ignore. Jack carefully placed the magazine down. Food. Yes, that was more important. He tried not to cry, cause the way people acted with his eating sometimes hurt too much. If only he could save money on food.

Walked into the kitchen, opened fridge, snatched the platter of sandwiches made. Without thinking much of it, he started devouring them. Nora were real good at cooking, and hunger could get the better of him if he weren't careful.

defiantace:

“Whenever y’want.  ‘M still makin’ your dress, right?”  Jack leafed through a bridal magazine.  His stomach growled angrily, but he wasn’t gonna eat.  Bridal magazine was more important.  Even if he was hungry.  Magazine.  This one said that springtime weddings were fashionable now, but he didn’t know the first thing about fashionable weddings.  The color combinations listed were dull and boring, all whites and pale powder blues and taupes and beiges, but that didn’t seem to make anyone’s eyes sad.

“I ain’t hungry,” he lied quickly.  “Don’t worry.”

“Yes, of course. You’ve always been amazing at making clothes. And I’m mostly asking because I love winter weddings but not everyone likes cold weather and I want to do something that both of us would enjoy.”

Her ears perked up at the sound of his grumbling stomach, but with no feeling of surprise. It was the kind of thing to be expected and so she always made sure there was something in the fridge for Jack to eat in case these pangs happened.

“If you’re feeling hungry I made a few sandwiches that are in the fridge.”

[defiantace]

“You run off to Rapture for a month, an’ you only been back for three days.  Whadda you get off doin’, sayin’ that I gotta go see Tenenbaum make me less dead?  I was here all month, cleanin’ up your mess!  I hadda lie an’ pretend like you’d gone somewhere for a family emergency!  All y’did was just run into Rapture!  You ran away from us!”  Wynand glared at Ryan.  By unspoken agreement, neither of them had brought up Ryan having just returned from Rapture three days ago.  Sure, Ryan’d brought food and some junk Wynand was pretty sure he could fleece for cash if he needed.  

But Rapture.  He’d ignored the house rule that stated not to return back to Rapture because it was evil!  Wynand had even spelled the word evil correctly and managed to underline it!  He painstakingly spelled arguably the most important descriptive word correctly, and Ryan still ignored the warning!  That son of a bitch!

Without thinking much, Wynand hauled off and punched Ryan in the jaw.  He didn’t care if he hurt him.  Wasn’t even thinking to hold back his strength.  All he knew was that he was angry and Ryan needed to suffer.

defiantace:

Jack Wynand shook his head.  Rolled his eyes at Jack Ryan.  Goddamn, Ryan could be such a child sometimes.  They were both children, technically.  Yet Wynand had grown up faster.  He’d had to.  Growin’ up in Brooklyn’d demanded it.  “A motherfuckin’ morgue?  Really, that best ya can do, Ryan?  I was expectin’ you’d say I was gonna wake up six feet under an’ hafta punch my way outta grave.  Cause I can punch through wood an’ dirt, y’knows.  They made me for strength.”

Ryan.  Seriously.  The idea of taking on the surname that meant nothing except for shared blood made no goddamn sense.  But whatever.  They weren’t the same.  Ryan weren’t even made for the same purpose as Wynand.  He were better’n Wynand at everythin’ cept the strength.

Wynand couldn’t help but feel like he was the failure, while Ryan had been the model that worked.  

Jack Ryan pouted. There was no other term for the expression despite how childish it was and how adult his face. “I was trying to be nice. Didn’t want you to go and get worried about being buried alive or anything. Besides, you don’t know the casket would be wood. Maybe you’re in a steal box. Then what smarty pants?”

Than the only person who was worth a damn in the girls lives would be gone. Wynand was the better experiment. He was an adult. A real one despite their shared ‘true’ age. Wynand knew how to be a grown up. He knew how to make money and buy food and take care of the family. Jack was useless. Sure he went to work but it didn’t make much. Not enough to really be useful. He was just another mouth to feed.

Hell, Wynand had even kept his own name. His real name. The one that said who he was and where he was from and what he stood for. Jack Ryan had paniced and taken Ryan. Afraid he couldn’t live up to the expectations of his Pa who never existed anyway. God he needed a drink. Just not now. Not while Wynand was there and might note how half the bottle would be gone before Ryan even took notice.

“Maybe you ought to have Tenenbaum see about making you less dead when you sleep. To be safe.”

[defiantace]

thefirstalpha:

“Stance is wrong…” Jake commented, taking a few steps towards the other, “And the butt-plate isn’t seated right. Look, here, you want to get it…”

He took hold of the submachine gun’s stock and pushed it into Jack’s shoulder. His other hand touched the underside of the barrel and lifted it higher, making it level with Jack’s eye. “Widen your stance,” Jake added, tapping Jack’s shin with the tip of his boot.

The protector wondered how he’d managed to survive Rapture the first time, with such a limited knowledge of firearms. He must have used one at least once. Hell, Jack had even said he wanted to join the military at one point.

Jake removed his hands and took another step back. Silently, he pointed at the line of bottles again, wanting Jack to try again.

Right.  Widen stance, keep the submachine gun right where it was, look right at what he was aiming at.  Breathing in slowly, he stared at a bottle.  Aimed while still in what he assumed was the proper stance.  Pulled the trigger.  One of the bottles shattered in an explosion of glass.  Jack grinned.  It had even been the one he’d aimed at!

“I got one!”  The submachine gun didn’t feel natural in his hands the way that his wrench did.  Jack weren’t sure that mattered when it came to this fucking city.  All he had to do was get good enough at using it that he could take down the larger fuckers from a distance.  Getting up close to those guys wasn’t a good idea.

Aiming at another bottle, Jack lined himself up just like he’d been shown.  He pulled the trigger.  Another shattering of glass, another bottle hit.  There wasn’t no way Jake’d let him leave till he shot every last target.

So he kept aiming.  Staying in stance.  Shooting at the bottles and hitting each one in succession.  “Jake!  Thanks!  This ain’t bad!”

[defiantace]

Tell me what you want me to write a headcanon (or more headcanons) about! Let me know what part of my Muse interests you.

[defiantace]

Bring up my muse's past. Mess them up. Devastate them. Hit them with feels. Nothing is off limits.

[defiantace]

Jack Wynand shook his head.  Rolled his eyes at Jack Ryan.  Goddamn, Ryan could be such a child sometimes.  They were both children, technically.  Yet Wynand had grown up faster.  He’d had to.  Growin’ up in Brooklyn’d demanded it.  “A motherfuckin’ morgue?  Really, that best ya can do, Ryan?  I was expectin’ you’d say I was gonna wake up six feet under an’ hafta punch my way outta grave.  Cause I can punch through wood an’ dirt, y’knows.  They made me for strength.”

Ryan.  Seriously.  The idea of taking on the surname that meant nothing except for shared blood made no goddamn sense.  But whatever.  They weren’t the same.  Ryan weren’t even made for the same purpose as Wynand.  He were better’n Wynand at everythin’ cept the strength.

Wynand couldn’t help but feel like he was the failure, while Ryan had been the model that worked.  

@defiantace answered:

“I ain’t a corpse, I’m a heavy sleeper.”  Jack smiled at his alternate self.  It weren’t his fault he couldn’t never be roused once he fell asleep.  Not till his body wanted to wake up.  “You’re the one with the funny sleepin’ pattern.”

Jack Ryan stuck his tongue out. Childish? Yes. But worth it just the same. When he slept he was a pretty heavy sleeper himself. Difference seemed to be the nightmares which had his tossing and turning. Had him waking up in a cold sweat and hiding under his bed. Had him waking up to a fire on the ceiling that he had to put out- a result of plasmids being thrown around while he was screaming in his sleep. He wasn’t sure if the other Jack had the same problems, but the times he’d seem the other asleep he seemed to be getting more rest. “You’re more than a heavy sleeper. You’re gonna end up in a morgue one day ‘cause someone who isn’t me sees you and thinks you’ve died.” 

[defiantace]

Much as Jack wanted to protest and say his wrench was enough for a fight, he’d fought the spliced-up freaks.  The larger fuckers had spliced themselves till the point where he’d seen them kill a Big Daddy no problem.  Jake was right.  He needed to learn how to use a gun, and how to use one fast.

“What’s ‘pistol-caliber’ mean?  You’re sayin’ it like it’s a good thing, but I ain’t sure what this gun even is.  Just that you used one like this durin’ the war.”

He lined up the gun in his hands like he’d seen Jake do.  The bottles on that table were set up for shooting.  Jack aimed best he could before pulling the trigger.  Bang!  Missed the first bottle.  He tried another shot, missing again.  Fuck!

@thefirstalpha

Jack eyed the gun in Jake’s hands.  At least it didn’t look like Rapture had broke it.  But guns jammed.  That thing wouldn’t be reliable if he needed to reload in a fight.

“Y’ want me to learn how to shoot?  Why?”

[defiantace]

@thefirstalpha

Jack eyed the gun in Jake’s hands.  At least it didn’t look like Rapture had broke it.  But guns jammed.  That thing wouldn’t be reliable if he needed to reload in a fight.

“Y’ want me to learn how to shoot?  Why?”

[defiantace]

hurt meme.

“ i got you. it’s gonna be okay, you’re going to be okay.”

“i feel like everyone’s miles away from me.”

“my mind is a dark place. you don’t want to be there.”

“i know this hurts, but you have to stay awake.”

“don’t close your eyes, please don’t close your eyes!”

“i just want to be numb, i don’t want to feel anything.”

“please don’t do this, don’t act like you care.”

“you don’t care, nobody cares, just leave.”

“you’re my friend, of course i fucking care.”

“i can’t give up on you, so please don’t give up on yourself.”

“i love you so much, i forgot what hating myself felt like.”

“i fucked up, why do you not care?”

“i can’t walk, just go on without me.”

“you have broken ribs, take it easy.”

“i have no idea how to do cpr.”

“whose blood is that?”

“apply pressure to the wound, don’t let go.”

“don’t you dare fucking let go!” 

“what the hell happened to you?” 

“are they dead? did you kill them?” 

“do you know what you’ve done?” 

“you’re either with me or against me.” 

“who the hell did this to you?” 

“are you alright? you hit your head pretty hard…” 

“i can’t see!! what’s happening to me?” 

“when was the last time you ate?” 

“what do you mean you’re fine? you are not fine!” 

 “i’m fine, it’s just a flesh wound, i’ll be okay.” 

“for how long? how long were you bottling this up?“ 

“there’s so much blood, you won’t last.” 

“are you… throwing up in there?” 

“why aren’t you eating?” 

“just breathe… you’re okay, i promise, just breathe.” 

“i can’t breathe, i can’t –” 

“i woke up, & you were gone.” 

“just tell me something, was it really worth it?” 

"it’s okay to hurt & breakdown. you don’t have to be strong all the time.”

[defiantace]

“One doesn’t expect one’s corpse to look so…. lifeless.”

“I ain’t a corpse, I’m a heavy sleeper.”  Jack smiled at his alternate self.  It weren’t his fault he couldn’t never be roused once he fell asleep.  Not till his body wanted to wake up.  “You’re the one with the funny sleepin’ pattern.”

[defiantace]

“Whenever y’want.  ‘M still makin’ your dress, right?”  Jack leafed through a bridal magazine.  His stomach growled angrily, but he wasn’t gonna eat.  Bridal magazine was more important.  Even if he was hungry.  Magazine.  This one said that springtime weddings were fashionable now, but he didn’t know the first thing about fashionable weddings.  The color combinations listed were dull and boring, all whites and pale powder blues and taupes and beiges, but that didn’t seem to make anyone’s eyes sad.

“I ain’t hungry,” he lied quickly.  “Don’t worry.”

@defiantace

“Well…in which season would you like to get married?”