pluviophileblues

[tj-crochets]

Frogs!!!!!!

[wispandwhispers]

Welcome to Monochromia!

Words: 2048

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Tw(s) : Cursing, Implied torture, getting disturbing commissions, talked about murder (Tell me if there is any to add)

Pairing(s) : Eventually Logicality, Dukeceit, Eventually Prinxiety.

Notes : I’ve had this idea on the back burner for so long and its finally here

"Zynx, how do you plan to secure the vote in the Fumi sector?"

"No comment."

"Zynx, how are you planning to make a comeback after Foster destroyed your chances of getting the majority ?"

"No comment."

"Zynx, is the rumours of you and Crownford sleeping together true?"

"I'm sorry but I'm not sure what you're talking about."

A limousine pulled up in front of the city hall and the chauffeur rolled down the window. A simple eye signal and he knew it was time to go.

"No more questions."

"Zynx a moment of your t-"

The chauffeur slammed the door of the limousine and started the planned safety-checked drive back to his boss' residence.

He looked in the mirror at his employer which a cheeky grin.

"I have a good feeling your sick of this question but how in fuck's name are you going to win this election? "

The passenger glared at his employee, clearly pissed.

"Do not test my patience Remy."

"Holy shit, you didn't say my full name, who are you and what have you done with Logan Zynx?"

"Just pass my yarn bag, I'm so fucking stressed."

Remy opened the compartment and chucked the medium sized light- blue pouch to the back.

"I don't understand why you don't you just go around firing people, snort crack, hate sex or whatever rich people do the wind down."

"I don't really know, this brings me peace for some reason."

The conversation died down and Logan got to work on stress knitting a new scarf/sock/ thing while Remy took the back route to his estate in the Prime sector with the sound of the radio in the background.

The usual daily announcements, the signal time, the weather update, the tired host annoying the news-

-Roman Crownford made headlines tonight when he was caught carrying election candidate, Logan Zynx in the bridal position . Rumours have emerged that the two are in a relationship and-

The driver's neck snapped back to stare at the person in the back seat.

"Spill."

"I don't speak slang."

"Fine, explain."

"I decided to go out for a drink, someone decided to spike it, woke up in my bed with this guy staring at me. That's what I can remember at least."

"Sounds like the start to some shitty rom-com."

-Footage can be seen of the actor carefully helping the politician get to his car to supposedly drive him home.

"Please turn that down, If I listen to that anymore I'll get a headache from the bullshit they are spewing. And I already have one from the debate so please."

Remy turn the dial anti-clockwise.

"Anyway, you need to be focusing on which is the best assassin in the area, I personally recommend Remus-"

In the mirror, the driver could see his employer's eyes sharpen in annoyance.

"I plan to win the election without murdering someone and even if I was to kill Patton, I would probably get caught anyway."

The limousine came to a halt.

"You better get inside, three minutes 'til the signal goes live."

Logan let himself out of the vehicle and faced the other

"I'm aware. That's why I wear a watch if you weren't aware."

Remy just shook his head.

"You're still the fucking antisocial nerd you were as a teen."

"And you were the same shade of black and white since you were twelve but I don't comment about it." Logan retorted as he started to walk to his door.

"Don't come for my kneecaps bitch, I'm being a queen in the colours I can see and I'm fucking proud of my basic bitch style."

"God you're so egotistical. Why am I friend with you again?"

"Your bad life decisions, not mine."

Logan heard the limousine drive off into the distance. He would assume the Remy would just listen to the signal in the car. And then promptly go and get a coffee to fuel his caffeine addiction that can never satisfied.

Logan walked into his house and sat down on his armchair. Cathrine climbed onto his lap but he's shooed her away. She always seemed to meow louder during the signal.

Your daily broadcast is about to begin, remember you can always t̙̰̖̲͔͈͚̱̞͙̐̇͋́̅̊̀̅̕͝ų̺̺̟͇͈͎̝̫̱̳̝͈̬͔̩̠̞̙͑̍͒̌̅͗̔͑̿̋̔͘̕̕̚̕͠͠͠r̡̧̧̛̟̺͍̘̘͉̞͔͇̭͍̮̒̋͆́̎̿̀̉́̏̊͘͘͜͠͡n̡̢̛̥̺̱̫͖̹̩̲̝̪͊̊̊͂̔̇͆̓̄̋̓̓ͅ i̢̱͕̮͎̺͓͂̒̊͂͒̏̍t̨̨̥̦̙̭̦̀̄̾̂̽̄͘ o̧̥̗͚̮͇̬̠̥̼̮̫͕̞̪̭̝̼̍͒̇̀̐̌̊͆́̐͂͒̀̋͌̌͐̕̚͜f̡̢̨̢̥̬̳͓̺̖͍͐͒̍̄̋̂̏͂̍̊̏̅͜f̛̹̱̜̥͇̜̥̙͇̻͍̙͈̱̈́̎͋̏̑̑͊́̌̓̓͗́́͟ ȧ̢̧̢��̙̦͉̪͇̇̾̄̑̽̓̈́̾̓̌͟͜͝ͅẗ̜͎̖̰͖͉͇̦̥́̍̑̄̚͘͞͡͞ ä̡̫̰̪̰̖͕̲͙̲̝̘̤͎́̂̏̇̓̃̍̽̐́̚͘͢͞͡͡ǹ̢͇̙͇̙̯͎̬̟͖̪̥̹͔̙̿́̓̍̽̊͆̈̓̍̎̀̏͌͌͜͞ͅy͓̪̟̲̩̙͚̗̫͚̰̘̫͈͌̍̊̃̎̓͒̄̔͑͆̈̄͠ -

It cackled unholy sound, like the type static made but way worse and the device proceeded to go radio silent (no pun intended). Logan walked over to see if Cathrine had chewed through the wires again but she was curled up in a ball on the heater.

"I got this fixed not even a week ago, It can't be broken already.."

The box suddenly flickered back to life akin to a car engine. Logan sighed in relief, returning to his chair waiting for the-

Good evening lucky citizen, I am proud to interrupt your daily brainwashing in the hopes that you will heed my warning. Stop listening to the fucking signal or broadcast or wave or whatever you call it in your sector.This is probably the most idiotic thing that you have ever heard. I am fully aware. But also was that story our caregivers told us so we wouldn't cover our ears. So you listened through the hidden circle of hell that was the sound you heard. But you don't remember the pain and only the calm when it ended, don't you? In the very likely case you are currently at your mobile trying to report me., let me save you the hassle of trying to find a name. Call me-

Logan promptly ripped the radio cord out of the socket.

Pacing around his study slowly, trying to mentally recall a fact, he pulled out his phone and checked the time. The broadcast had ended the second he had pulled out the plug. He couldn't dwell on that. He typed in a number and let the waiting sound become his background noise until someone picked up.

"Patton, can I stay at yours for the night?"

*****

" Q.Quill. A twenty year old woman who grew up in godforsaken dump that is Fumi, clawed her way to the top and started to biggest drug empire in the city, who always has four weapons on her person at all times, the person whose body has never gotten more than a scratch before the person who dared to hurt her died was killed by her own hands and you killed her sneaking an acid bomb into her Big Mac. I'm surprised Duke. It's less creative than how you usually murder your target."

"You wound me Pip, when I joined this company I swore to myself that every single job I do , I would pour my hearty and soul into. There is no was in-"

"Let me guess, the acid is more than acid."

'Duke' gave a slick grin. "Wanna know what was in it?"

"Nah, I'm still traumatised from the hat job."

She passed a bag to the assassin.

"You know where to pick up your pay check from. Get the fuck out of my office..

Grabbing the sack, moonwalking on his hellys that Pip was convinced he was not wearing before, 'Duke' went to collect his earnings.

He rolled to the Shed, pick up the cash, stuffed a red hot poker into the eye of a guy who tried to mug him and continued on with his daily rout-

"Thomas!" Duke ran up to the named person and lifted him into the air. Then he slapped his face.

"Ow, what the fuck was that Re...," A frantic head shake for 'not the right time. "Duke .."

Thomas narrowed his eyebrows and pulled the Duke to the nearby alleyway. Thomas was going to speak but the other beat him to it.

"I slapped you, partially because I wanted to and because it's not safe to be around me at the moment because I kinda killed someone off duty so the Shed is probably after me and your dad will kill me if I get blood on your shirt and Janus is terrifying when pissed."

Thomas just stood back, taking a good moment to process the information.

"How did you get chosen to be an assassin?"

"Do you think I know?"

Duke perked his ears up. Footsteps. Very light and carefully planned ones as well.

"Ok Thomas, I'm got to play with people's intestines now, say hi to Janus for me and rennet that's nothing is illegal if you don't get caught!"Duke took out a sewing needle out of his pocket than had green thread.

Thomas felt sorry for the victims ,already starting to back out of the future crime scene.

"Sure!"

*********

Virgil stepped back from from his computer, questioning why he even decided to take commissions in the first place. And seeming from the email, this wasn't someone trying to fuck with him.

Time to get some moral support.

i'llburnifigointothesun: What would you do if a guy offered you one fucking million for a piece of fanart of them living out their romantic fantasies

FosterDawg: You don't need to do nsfw pieces. You're not a broke college student

i'llburnifigointothesun:Yeah, I've upgraded to a broke adult.

FosterDawg : So...Why are you nervous about this? You've drawn kisses before albeit it wasn't normally the most light hearted work but this isn't one of your triggers.

i'llburnifigointothesun: the condition is I have to hand paint this and they want it 'hyper-realistic'. i kinda don't want my hands to die.

FosterDawg : Kiddo, at the end of the day, it's your call if you want to do this or not.

i'llburnifigointothesun: it was such a dad thing to end that with an exclamation mark.

Virgil put down his phone, listened to the broadcast ,stared long and hard at his paintbrushes. After about half an hour he got out a canvas and pulled up reference images.

He gritted his teeth. "If they're lying, I'm about to going to sue."

*******

"Dad, I'm home!"

Thomas flung his backpack onto the floor, walking to the kitchen to partially look for his dad and partially to get the leftover pizza.

"Okay, he's still at work which means time for-"

"Thomas you can't watch Steven Universe re-runs until five in the morning again, you have your revision that you'll procrastinate and then panic a month before you the exam date in guilt of not studying."

The father had seemed to just manifest out of thin air, standing behind his son and the other couldn't tell if he had been there for an hour or two minutes.He rarely wore his emotions on his sleeve.

"Dad, I didn't ask you to peer into my soul.Also Remus says hi." He fiddled with the remote control, deciding what cartoon to binge watch .

The parent rushed to his son ,checking his face to see if was hurt. "Shit, you didn't see him kill or hurt anyone, right?"

"Yep!"

Janus let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. "Thank fuck, you can't be used as a witness."

Thomas walked over to the front door to retrieve his discarded backpack and took out his music theory notes. He scanned through the notes and then lowered his head in frustration."Why did I pick this class?"

"It seemed like a good decision at the time, for you and you just started your Hamilton phase." Janus saw his son staring over what he assumed was the homework. The due date was in a weeks time. He had an internal debate with himself and came to a decision.

"You know what, fuck that!," He chucked Thomas homework to the side. "Do what makes you happy tonight, you seem stressed and you should take time for yourself."

Thomas started at his dad for a few seconds and gave him a big hug. " Thanks, I kinda needed that.. This maybe a bad time but I kinda threw my tie-dye pride flag with your yellow dress shirts.

Janus stared at the other with a glare that could be sarcasm or could be anger. "Well, everything could be gayer."

The dad finally put down his hat on the coat stand and started to walk upstairs. "Remember to keep it down, I'll be live."

"Kay.."Thomas started his self care routine by microwaving the leftover pizza.

Taglist( Ask me if you want to be added):

@katlikethesword, @crinklesnuff

[noctisfishing]

Prince of Tennis (...and Flowers)

Day 3 - Hobbies

#noct writes taiora week 2020 [ 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 ]

@taioraweek for more Taiora love! @noctisfishing for Taiora/Digimon writings and more. :)

Setting: Digimon Adventure tri. timeframe / Canon Divergent

Tags: Fluff, Romance

MinorCameo pairing: Mimato

Other Characters: Toshiko Takenouchi

Notes: I think we know more about Sora’s hobbies, and hopefully the silly title gives you a hint as to what this story is about.

I also wrote in small musical references from DigiDestined FM by @earlgreymon & @tangledupblue‘s digidestined-inspired playlists. I recommend you listen to them - there’s something for everyone! :D

~*~*~*~*~*~

On a late afternoon, Sora sat on a bench at the side of the school tennis court with a towel hanging over the top of her uniform for tennis practice. She was relaxed as she took intermittent sips from her water bottle as she waited for her mother to call the end of practice.

“Hey, look! it’s Sora!”

"Sora? You're here late."

Sora turned around to see Yamato and Mimi standing on the other side of the chain-linked fence.

“Hey, guys,” she said. “I was supposed to go home and prepare dinner. Taichi said that he wanted to come over and help, but…”

She turned around to face the tennis court again to see her mom on one side of the court shouting at the player on the other side - that player being Taichi, who was in his gym shorts and loose muscle shirt.

“...can’t prepare dinner if no one else is there to eat it.

“He’s that into it, huh?” Yamato asked.

Sora saw Taichi catch sight of Yamato, and he raised the tennis racket high above his head as a greeting.

“Taichi!” Sora’s mom yelled, making Taichi flinch and turn around to return to focus. 

Sora, Yamato, and Mimi laughed quietly in their corner.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” Sora explained. “It wasn’t that hard of a transition for me from playing soccer.”

Sora wasn’t sure how it happened, but she tried to explain it to Yamato and Mimi in the best way that she could. One day, she and her boyfriend Taichi were talking about soccer and their individual hobbies; the next day, he was jogging alongside her at the start of her tennis practice with her mom coaching them for the day.

“So, he wants to try out all of the things that you like to do?” Mimi asked after her explanation. “That’s so cute!”

“Yeah. I’ve gotta admit - it’s been pretty funny to watch him try.”

Sora’s mom blew the whistle, and Taichi lowered his arms letting the tennis racket swing toward the ground. As he headed to where Sora sat, Yamato let out a snort of laughter, and Mimi gasped.

“You even got him to wear your visor,” he said. “I’m not going to let him live that down.”

“Be nice!” Sora warned, although she thought that seeing her white visor over Taichi’s big and fluffy brown hair was as funny as Yamato did. She stood up from the bench and held out Taichi’s towel and water bottle by the time he got to her.

“Aww, just for me?” Taichi asked her. “Aren’t you sweet?”

Sora smiled at him as they stood face-to-face. She had already had a chance to cool down a little from practice, but being close to him, she felt the heat emanating from him after he moved around the court. There was more that she wanted to say, but she knew that Yamato and Mimi were still standing on one side, watching intently; and although she was far away, her mother was staring them down.

“Listen,” Taichi added in a softer voice for only her to hear. “Tonight’s probably not a good night for me to come over. I’ll just walk home with Yamato.”

“Ha! Was Mom giving you bad vibes or something?”

“...Kinda.” 

Taichi chuckled nervously, but Sora frowned.

“Sora!” her Mom shouted.

“Alright then,” said Sora, letting the troubling thought rest for the night. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow? At ‘One OK Rock’?”

Part of their hobby swap was listening to each other’s music, which had been a ‘hit or miss’ depending on the music they shared with each other. 

Taichi laughed at her reference of his favorite band. “I’ll get you to listen to the acoustic versions of their music. I think you might like those better. You liked OneRepublic, right?”

“I did. I’m surprised you even liked Norah Jones and Dido.”

“Why wouldn’t I? They remind me of you.”

Sora went in for a tight hug, and she felt Taichi’s arms around her back as he gave her a squeeze. She loved that he gave her the best hugs.

Then silence fell between the two of them when they pulled apart. They stared at each other, but Sora broke the gaze first, feeling herself blush. She felt too self-conscious with other people watching them, especially her mother.

“Love the new look,” Sora heard Yamato tease as she walked away. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Taichi was over at the Takenouchi residence the next afternoon, sitting next to Sora on the floor in front of a flat, round container, with flowers and branches neatly laid out on either side. 

Sora sat on her knees while Taichi sat with his legs crossed to watch her. She had given him half an hour of attempting ikebana with her guidance until she grew impatient from bickering with him over how he was handling the pieces. As many times as she told him to be gentle, he still ended up with a few bandages around his fingers.

Silence had fallen between them as she began to concentrate on choosing the right long branch from the small stack she and her mother had picked out earlier that morning. After running her hand on each one and observing each branching having a variation of sprouted leaves, she chose the one that she felt was right, and gently extended its branches before setting it in the container.

“You make this look so easy, Sora,” Taichi quipped.

“It’s not as easy as it looks,” she fretted. “I’ve been practicing this for a few years now, and I still don’t feel like I’m getting it right.”

“But it’s something you like doing, right?”

Sora smiled. “I do now. I used to hate it, but that was before I resolved things with my mom. Now I like it because I get to do it with her.”

It was likely because her mom was out shopping that Taichi said it so freely:

“I don’t think your mom likes me.”

But Sora expected him to say that and knew he had been ready to vent about it, so she continued to place another leafy branch. “What makes you say that?”

“Did you see how harsh she was with me at tennis yesterday? I’ve never had a coach so strict.”

“You’ve probably never had to deal with your girlfriend’s mother as a coach, either.”

“It’s like she doesn’t approve of me, or something.”

“Now, that’s ridiculous.” Sora had to laugh while she turned to choose the bloomed flowers. “Mom’s just strict when she teaches; that’s why it seems like she might be hard on you.”

She placed the flowers in between the branches in the container, but her face fell when she looked at the arrangement so far.

“She was really hard on me at first. That’s why I pushed myself to train harder. But, I’ve learned that she just wanted me to do well, so I know where she’s coming from. I think that goes for you, too, Taichi.”

Turning her head to Taichi, she gave him a smile in hopes to reassure him.

“She could tell you were serious about tennis,” she added. “If you weren’t, she would’ve refused to help you.”

“That makes sense.” Taichi smiled back at her, and it brightened her own smile knowing that she made him feel better.

After a few minutes of silence, Sora had let go of the last stem and sat back from her flower display. The arrangement still didn’t feel like her best work. She wondered if the branches needed to be spread out more or be rearranged, and what her mother would think of it when she returned home.

“Wow…” Taichi leaned closer towards her to look. “You really do have a talent for this, Sora.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, this looks awesome!”

She tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear which might have looked red from the heat on her face. “Thanks, Taichi.”

“Say, since I obviously suck at this, maybe you should teach me another hobby instead.”

She shot a look at him. “Like what?”

“I dunno. Sewing?”

“No.”

Taichi grimaced. “That was quick.”

“You want to try to handle a needle when you don’t have the patience to handle the thorns on these branches? You’re only going to suffer with more pricks on your fingers.”

“Really, Sora? I’ve gotten bruises and broken some bones playing soccer, and you’re worried about my hands?”

She adjusted her sitting position to face him as she kneeled, and she held his hands in hers while she looked over the bandages on his fingers.

“You really need to be more careful, Taichi.”

Taichi placed his rough hand over hers with his other one underneath, causing Sora to hold her breath.

“You don’t have to worry about me so much. You know that, right?”

Her eyes meeting his made Sora lose what she meant to say next. He had a soft smile on his lips, but he stared at her with the same sense of waiting as he had the late afternoon before.

She couldn’t wait either. Slowly, she leaned forward, and noticed that he was doing the same toward her. They had only kissed each other on the cheek twice, both times out of public view. Sora was always self-conscious when everyone else was watching.

But in that moment, it was just the two of them, and they inched closer together, and Sora anticipated finally closing that gap…

The noise against the front door caused both of their heads to turn toward it.

“Oh…” Sora said with an exhale, crestfallen by the interruption. With her face flushed and her heart rapidly beating, she returned to her kneeling position before the ikebana, and she saw Taichi from the corner of her eyes return to his crossed legs, blushing all the same.

“I’m home!” Sora’s mom called.

“Welcome back,” Sora replied. “How was shopping?”

“I’ve bought some more vegetables for the week. I’ve got a great idea for dinner tonight. You’re welcome to join us for dinner, Taichi, if you don’t have plans.”

“I’ll be happy to,” Taichi said, and Sora noticed that he looked especially cheerful. “I guess I can help you and Sora like I was meant to yesterday.”

“Ah, yes. Thanks to having us work on your poor form.”

“Y-yeah…” Taichi’s face showed a hint of horror.

“You’ve got the fancy footwork, Taichi, but it’s your stances when you swing the racket that needs more work.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Mom, please go easy on him,” Sora chimed in, feeling pity for Taichi. “He’s just starting out.”

But as her mom set the bags of vegetables on the counter, she paused as she looked in Sora’s direction.

“Did you do that, Sora?” she asked, staring curiously.

“Oh…” Sora turned to her flower arrangement. “I did. I was showing Taichi how to do it.”

“Well, you showed him well, dear. Just beautiful.”

Sora beamed at her mother’s compliment. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Ah! I think I’ll change out of these clothes after being out for most of the day. I’ll be back to start preparing dinner.”

“Okay.”

Sora looked at her own flower display again, feeling silly for doubting herself. She reached over to brush her finger over a leaf on one of the branches when Taichi called her name and lightly nudged her arm with his elbow.

“Hmm?” She looked to meet his eyes again as he smiled at her.

“I agree with what she said, Sora. ‘Just beautiful’.”

Sora knew that it was more than the flowers Taichi was talking about.

When Sora leaned forward this time, she finally kissed his lips. She could tell that she startled him, and in a short moment of panic she realized her hands were at her sides and she didn’t know where to move them.

But then he pushed against her slightly. Her hands made their way to either side of his cheeks, and she felt his hand on the side of her neck. She took in this new feeling of his lips against hers as they held each other, and she wanted to explore this even more.

“Sora,” her mom called suddenly, causing both her and Taichi to jump and break their kiss.

“Y-yes, Mom?!” Sora called back in a tone higher than normal. She and Taichi had quickly jumped a few feet apart from each other, although her mom had yet to reappear.

“Can you and Taichi start chopping up the onions and the leeks?”

“Okay!”

Sora stood up first, then she helped Taichi up as he shook his legs from being numb. Not wanting to risk another interruption, Sora and Taichi laughed together as they held each others’ hands before heading toward the kitchen. He offered to slice the onions which she accepted, knowing that unlike with her other hobbies, Sora could trust him to do at least that.

Well…

“Oops,” Taichi said as he let an onion drop and roll on the kitchen floor.

.

.

.

.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Trivia: The band “One OK Rock” got their name as a play on the time they used to have band rehearsals. :P

One OK Rock and Norah Jones are included on @earlgreymon‘s playlists, while OneRepublic and Dido are included on @tangledupblue‘s playlists. :)

[theonlybatopus]

@literalgarbageaus

So, once I started I couldn't stop? Living that no chill, no sleep life. I even made a mood board and like...it was stupid cringe fun? I say this because it's been ages since I had fun making a sona/self-insert so shamelessly.

Now without me blathering forever. Meet the useless background fodder sona (me?) I made for Cowtale!

Name: Nettie

Age: Don't ask, don't tell. She also legitimately forgets, who counts after 18 anyway?

Looks: Short, long haired, and always in a dress

History: Born in the East on a prairie, doesn't remember much because the family never stayed long. A family of wealth seekers, they went wherever the money could be and eventually settled in the Mid-West but she couldn't stay still. Raised on the move she needed to move. To see more and find whatever it was that made her feet itch. But you need money to move, which she learned the hard way. Nettie did a lot of dumb things, a lot of smart things, and a handful of down right dangerous things before she reached the town outside Ebott. With not a damn penny to her name to boot. For a long minute she worked in Saloons (plural because you can only pour drinks on two idiots, and accidentally drop fifty dollars worth of cups when you trip over your own dress before you get fired) as a waitress of sorts, till she managed filch a drunkards camera as a tip for sassing her one too many times. Initially she planned to pawn it but found she liked it enough to keep, and she wasn't half bad at it. Still, it didn't do a thing for her until the monsters came. When they came and every newspaper from there to the East wanted pictures but no one wanted to go to the town, she volunteered. For the heftiest fee she could squeeze out of them.

And thus Nettie launched her career.

Her photos were no longer just monsters but humans and the advancing technology. It was sights that made her heart skip a beat, including one particular monster.

And so, she hadn't planned to stay but she couldn't bring herself to leave just yet.

Personality: She can take of herself (and everyone else too cause she's used to it) but she would also like some cuddles and maybe someone to get her a drink please. Generally amiable but don't piss her off (not that she can do much about it, all bark with no bite). A little jaded and a tad lonely, she can be superficially friendly at first. She tries but she's been alone for a long time, how do you even make friends? But once you are her friend, she's ride or die. If a topic interests her she is excitable and soaks up any new knowledge, if it isn't she'll listen patiently but don't expect her to remember any of it.

Fears: The dark, being alone, vultures

Dislikes: Being touched without permission, salty foods, the cold

Likes: Spicy food, storms, anything new, photography

Favorite(s): Yellow, tulips, chili, rum, snakes

Dreams: To find roots, get over her past, enjoy life, take a picture that will go down in history, date a skeleton, maybe open a bakery, or a tailor shop. She has lots of ideas okay?

Other notes: Makes most of her own clothes because its hard to find stores when you're travelling (sews for relaxation and when angry because she can stab fabric with a needle and it's therapeutic). Good with baking and cooking after her years making her own food (bakes when stressed or anxious, she had to focus on it tasting good, no room for worries). Talks with her hands and boy do they flail. Does stupid things to make people laugh because what even is shame? Has a big soft spot for kids, likes them better than most adults honestly. Is actually a pretty decent shot but hates having to use a gun unless she has to.

Crush: Chisel

Friends: Literally anyone who tolerates her. She isn't picky, she just wants some company.

First Meeting Went a Little Like: Nettie was taking pictures of any monsters who volunteered, accidentally knocked her camera over and broke it. Informed Chisel might help. Cue some generic flirting from Chisel when she goes to ask. All of which she entirely misses because she's used to it (everyone in Saloons flirt, its background noise to her), and the fact that her camera is broken.

Second Meeting Goes a Bit Like: Camera is fixed and wow how did she not notice the skeleton before. Was that flirting? What did she do with flirting? Awkwardly flirt back. It's a joke? Yup. Hers was too. Ha-ha.

Third Meeting Is Not Better: That's definitely a crush. Maybe she should make eight million loaves of bread about it? Yup. Endless food. He thinks it's not bad? More food. And oh look at that, she may have accidentally made him a vest. Can she have a picture of him in it?

[ilovereadingandilovebreathing]

apologizing right before they pass out, with logicality?

Ooooooo nice. I love me some Logicality. I imagine you wanted something cuter (aka as cute as whump CAN be lol) buuuuttt I ran away with this. Sorry. ♥

I once dreamed of writing this Post-Apocalyptic-ish AU kinda thing that vaguely resembles The Road by Cormac McCarthy, so here’s a One Shot from that so maybe I’ll freaking write it

Sorry it starts out really Logan heavy. And really exposition/general boring writing heavy. Clearly I’m dying to write this thing.

2251 WORDS. CHILL, SELF.

WARNINGS for blood, injury, needles, PAIN, kind of graphic depiction of sewing up wounds, constant fear/anxiety, generally tense situations, crying, passing out, mentions of war and other tense political situations

Keep running. Keep running. Logan don’t you dare stop running now. You can hide underneath the Dragon’s Bridge. It shouldn’t be far now.

In any other circumstance, Logan would’ve chastised himself for giving in to Roman’s childish nickname for the dilapidated overpass, but for once in his life, his instincts took over his pride. Survival was the priority. 

Unfortunately, the natural flight reflex and accompanying chemicals were wearing off. Logan had never felt a pain like this in his entire life. His chest felt as though it was on fire, full to bursting yet absolutely empty and desperate to be filled; he gasped and heaved, feeling as though his lungs were clawing their way past his ribs to get air in faster.  He hadn’t heard footfall behind him for the last few minutes, but the raw fear that had jump-started his body into action had urged him on.

A sob escaped his lips when the crumbling, graffitied landmark came into view. In his former life, Logan wouldn’t have been caught dead or alive around such a decrepit place, but these last few weeks had scooped out the Logan that used to live in this body and replaced him with someone he was still getting to know. Those weeks were what Logan imagined hell to be like; he had been forced to shed his former life and fall headlong into a foreign existence of day-to-day survival and seemingly endless struggle, all in pursuit of what….He didn’t really know. None of them did.

((More under the cut; hiding the disturbing part))

His pace only slowed once he reached the top of the bridge, a necessity for grabbing onto the broken pieces alongside the structure and swinging down into the hollowed out place between the earth and concrete. This place had become base camp, hospital, war room, and home to Logan and the strange, eclectic group of young men that he’d found himself with after the world went to hell, and Logan was even beginning to think of the place with a twisted kind of fondness only discoverable when anything not awful was good.

Logan fell into the darkness of the cave-like hole, landing heavily on his feet and immediately collapsing to the dirt floor. He laid on his side and curled into himself, his breath coming in and out in a painful mix between gulps and gasps, and he tried with whatever power he had left to bring himself back under control. He remained there until his head stopped spinning and his breathing evened out to a reasonable pace and power. When he could without keeling over, Logan slowly pushed himself up to sit with his legs crossed, leaning heavily on his forearms with his head in his hands. Logan closed his eyes and focused on breathing and listening. After a full minute without hearing any sound, Logan let out a deep sigh and burst into tears.

As with many things in this new life, crying (what seemed to him like) constantly was an experience Logan was becoming accustomed to. His birth home had been one of strict rules and manners, upright men and women whose only emotions shown in public were feigned hospitality and genuine indifference. They never showed happiness. They never showed anger. And they certainly never showed sadness. Everything was swallowed and repressed, as was the life of the family of a critical world diplomat in an age when the world was constantly on the brink of absolute chaos. 

Logan bit his lip when images of his former family rose unbidden, chastising him for responding so illogically to a situation. This sort of time required silence, planning, action, and preparation, they would inform him, not wet eyes and splotchy cheeks, but such thoughts only made Logan cry harder. Not for the loss of his family; no, not for the strangers he’d been forced to live with and kiss on the cheek and pretend to be associated with, but for the years lost in such a place. For all the times he’d wanted, even needed, to cry, and he hadn’t for fear of bringing their wrath upon himself. Years of emotional repression had built up within him like pitcher filled to the very top, so high that there would be a slight dome to the top of the liquid, and splashes of the pent up pain spilled out whenever they had the chance. Much to Logan’s chagrin. 

The other’s shared Logan’s animosity for outward suffering, but they gave themselves over to it far more easily and frequently, seeing no reason to hold back anymore. Despite his logical nature, Logan had been the one to hold on to his airs the longest, but somehow, out of everyone in their rag-tag group of survivals, Patton had been the one to break him. Logan never imagined that such a ridiculous personality would do anything but repel from one like his, but for whatever reason, Patton had stuck onto him like a slug on a Dogwood tree, and yet…Logan didn’t mind. Not anymore. At first he’d wanted to peel the bubbly youth off of him (physically and metaphorically), but over time, he let down his walls enough to find comfort in Patton’s optimism and unconditional love, even if he’d recently found that the former was less-than-authentic.  

Pounding footsteps shattered Logan’s reverie. The footfall traveled half of the length of the bridge and stopped. Logan stared straight up, eyes following where source of the steps sounded to be as they picked up again. A figure appeared at the end of the bridge he could see from his vantage point, and Logan grit his teeth, praying to go unnoticed if it be the enemy. He trained his eyes on the spot, watching the person’s awkward movements as they scooted down the hillside that also gave access to the bridge.

Sensing familiarity in the movements, Logan cried all over again when he wiped away his tears to bring Patton into focus, throwing his hands over his mouth to stifle his cries. If Patton was running so desperately, surely danger followed close behind. Logan stayed quiet until Patton landed fully on the ground, and then Logan shakily rose to his feet, keeping his mouth stopped up with his hands. 

Patton faltered at his sudden appearance, but when he realized he was with a friend, Patton hurried over to him and pulled him into his embrace, silently sobbing into Logan’s shoulder as Logan wept quietly into his hands. When they’d composed themselves enough to speak in comprehensible whispers, they sank to the floor and sat knee-to-knee; Patton clasped Logan’s hands tightly between his own.

“Oh my god, Logan. You’re alive. You’re- oh my god, I’m just so happy to see you.” Tears poured out of Patton’s eyes, and Logan squeezed Patton’s hands.

“I understand. I am happy that both of us survived…but….what of-”

“Please. I don’t….I don’t know. And I can’t….bear to think of that-” Patton cut off when a far more intense pounding sounded overhead. The pair clasped each other’s hands tightly, one praying and one willing the mass of disgruntled human shells to keep moving. 

Minutes ticked by slowly in dead silence, broke only by the occasional shuffle from above, before a great sigh sounded and the chaos above seemed to go back to where it came from.

When the landscape fell into complete silence again, Patton and Logan released great breaths and squeezed each other’s hands. Logan clenched his jaw and muttered, “How long must we live out this horrible-”

Patton suddenly gasped sharply and wrenched his hands from Logan’s. He pulled up his pants leg, revealing a deep wound that spanned the width of his calf. 

“Patton, what-?”

“One of them…had a shovel….He tried to take me down, but….Remy helped.” Patton grimaced. “I guess….adrenaline kicked in…right? Not…a good time…with the…supplies….gone…” Patton smiled lopsidedly, his eyes beginning to glaze over.

“Patton, your whole pants leg is soaked-never mind. Not important. You stay here, focus on staying conscious, and I will gather the medical supplies.”

Logan hoisted himself up to begin a hunt for what few medical supplies they had left. Finding the remnants of a roll of gauze, partially rusted scissors, and nearly dried up disinfectant, Logan cut the bottoms of his pants legs off to stop the blood flow and attempt to clean out the wounds. Before starting with the gauze, he remembered Patton what had salvaged from a house they’d broken in to. 

“Patton…where are the needles and thread?”

“O-over in the….clothes pile.” Patton gestured vaguely around the space. 

“Helpful.” Logan mumbled. “Patton…I am going to attempt to sew your leg together.”

“But…you don’t….sew….Lo-lo.”

Rolling his eyes at the nickname, Logan replied evenly, “Not like you, but I know enough. If you are alright with it, I am going to try.”

“Oh-kay, Lo-lo-lo. I….trust you…” Patton slurred, swaying even as he sat on the ground.

“Here.” Logan gave him a bunched up rag. “Put this in your mouth to bite down on, and lay on your stomach, please.”

“Oh-kay….” Patton obediently fell onto his side and clumsily rolled onto his stomach, leaving his hands splayed at his sides and his head on the ground.  

“Patton, this might be the worst pain you’ve experienced in your life, and I apologize for being the one to cause it, but…”

“It’s okay, Lo…I trust you…” Patton whispered, his eyes fluttering.

Gritting his teeth and uttering another useless apology, Logan began his painstaking work. Patton cried constantly, tears spilling down his cheeks, but he had sense enough to clasp his hands and bite down on the cloth Logan gave him. 

Halfway through, a particularly rough cry broke from Patton’s throat, and Logan dropped the needle. 

“P-please, Logan….I…can’t-”

“Patton, we can’t leave this open-”

“It HURTS.”

“I know, Patton, but you have to let me help you! Stop being such a child!”

Patton stiffened.

“I…apologize, Patton.”

“It’s okay….finish….I’m sorry…” Patton bit down on the cloth, eyes clenched tight. 

Logan bit his lip, steadying his resolve before bringing his hand down on Patton’s wound. Hard. 

Patton screamed and went completely limp and silent.

Logan exhaled. “I’m so sorry, Patton…but it had to be done.” Logan reached over and pulled the cloth out of Patton’s mouth so that he didn’t suffocate. Picking back up the needle and wiping it on his shirt, Logan continued with his heavy task.

After the longest, most tense period he had experienced, Logan carefully finished stitching Patton’s leg together as best as he could, thanking whatever deity that he wasn’t squeamish as he tied off the end.

 “There. I’m so sorry, Patton, but it was all I knew to do.” Logan sighed as he stood and returned their now fewer supplies to their places. 

Logan came back and lowered himself next to Patton, sitting hunched beside him as Patton breathed steadily. Logan resolved to let the other youth rest for a while. Surely he needed it.

Just when Logan was beginning to feel himself relax to the smallest degree, Logan’s ears detected shifting leaves just as a pair of dark figures emerged from the forest beyond the bridge. Their approach drew Logan to his feet and in front of Patton, vigilant even when the footfalls turned into thuds a few yards away.

“Did we lose them? Do you think we lost them?”

“I think so. I think they got bored of us at the treeline. Too complicated for their idiotic brains.”

“Virgil? Roman?” Logan’s voiced cracked horribly as he tried to quietly call out for his comrades.

“Logan?” Even in the quickly receding evening light, Logan could make out their familiar shapes, and he felt himself sag in relief. 

“I am here, Virgil.”

“Logan, oh my god-”

“Patton?!” Roman’s voice was choked, and he quickly fell to his knees beside the unconscious young man. “What-”

“In his efforts to escape the raid, Patton was injured by a Horde with a shovel. He passed out amid my efforts to help him.”

“Oh my god.” Virgil murmured, standing and staring at the figure sprawled on the floor.”

“What of Remy?” Roman asked quietly, pensively. “I know he and Patton ran off together after we were ambushed.”

“I…do not know. Patton just said Remy helped him escape somehow.”

“Oh my god….”

“Virgil?”

“I just-what about Luke?”

“I thought Luke was with the two of you?”

“No. I never saw him after we split.”

“He and Remy have survived thus far, as have the rest of us. Surely they are alright.” Logan tried to reassure him. 

Virgil stayed silent.

“How did you escape?” Roman queried quietly, taking Patton’s hand in his own and rubbing his thumb over the other’s knuckles.

“Ran. Ran until I got here and could not run any more.”

“We did, too.” Roman replied. “Ran into each other when we tried to hide in the same shed.”

“A shed?”

“Yeah. No time for recon, though.” Virgil put in. “Just running.”

“We can go back when it is safe. For now, we need to dig out what is left of our provisions and trust that the others will find us.”

“What about Patton?” 

“He will rouse when his body is ready.”

“Harsh, Lo.” Virgil quipped, instantly looking remorseful.

“It is alright, Virgil.” Logan breezed past him. “It is a tense time.”

Virgil nodded mutely and shuffled after him to help while Roman stayed with Patton, now rubbing his back and gazing out sadly into the world beyond their tiny sanctuary.

Can it only get better or worse from here?