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sweettoothedtrickster13 · 2 years

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On the Run chapter 40

Summary: A lesson

AO3 Portal

Waylon wakes up and goes downstairs, finding Eddie and Jess already up and making breakfast side by side, as usual. Trevor is sitting at the island and Waylon joins him.

"They don't let you help either, huh," Trevor asks.

Waylon laughs. "They say I just get in the way."

Breakfast is done soon and then they eat. Waylon washes dishes with Trevor, the man drying the plates Waylon hands him.

When they're finished, Trevor sits on the couch and scrolls through his phone. Waylon joins him and picks up a book. Jess' laptop makes her push notification sound and he looks up to watch her react. Her face turns from interested to grim.

Eddie and Waylon look at each other, uneasy. "What do you have," Eddie asks, making his spot and putting his book aside.

"VIRALeaks got back to me about the team in town," Jess says.

"Do you want me to go upstairs," Trevor asks. "So y'all can talk freely?"

"No. You need the information too."

Trevor nods. "Barnabas Barnes, Hendrix Thorpe, Jay Clifton, Dorean Wescott, Eve Warwick, Chet Breckenridge, Adrian Levett, Chantal Victors, Russ Summers, Anabelle Blackburn, and Hector Georgeson," Jess lists off names.

"Eleven people," Waylon demands, flabbergasted. Jess nods. He looks at Eddie, who looks pained. "That's way too many."

"Nothing we can do about the number," Jess points out. "Let's see. Most of them are trained military, the rest are military contractors."

"This is awful," Waylon says. Eddie puts his hand on his shoulder and squeezes gently.

"You three'll get through this," Trevor nods. "I believe in you. Plus, we'll help."

"Thanks, Trevor," Jess smiles a little. "But we need a plan."

"Jess, they're former military," Waylon exclaims, throwing his arms up and dislodging Eddie's hand. "And probably just as ruthless as Murkoff usually is, if not more so. What could we possibly do?"

"Kill them," Eddie offers. The other three just look at him. "Joking. Mostly."

"Look, we can just avoid them," Jess says. "Trevor's here now, that keeps the house safe with the buddy system. What I did with Jerome should keep them off our backs surveillance-wise. He'll recruit some people to scan the town, make sure we find out where the bugs and cameras are."

"You think they put bugs and cameras up," Waylon asks. "Bugs are recording devices," he explains to Eddie, who nods his thanks.

"I would if I were them. But when they find them, I'll tell them not to take them down."

"Why not," Eddie asks before Waylon can.

"We can feed them misinformation. Plus, I don't want them to know that we know what's going on. Playing dumb is our best bet."

Waylon exhales slowly. He knows Jess is probably right. Murkoff is tech-savvy, even more so than he originally thought. They had caught him when he sent them email for starters. But Jess knows how to hack and avoid detection.

"How do you know all this," Eddie asks.

"Lots and lots of movies," Jess replies. "Plus when I was a kid I read a lot of spy books. Never thought the information would actually come in handy," she smiles ruefully. "That's all I can think of for right now. We can always change our plan as time goes on. As for right now," she says, and looks at Eddie. "We should teach Way how to fight."

Eddie nods and walks to the backyard. Waylon follows him, leaving Jess and Trevor inside.

"This is useless," Waylon says. "Didn't you hear Jess? They're military," he stresses again.

Eddie looks at him. "The cops who came to arrest me were trained, too," he points out.

"Eddie, they caught you."

"Yes, but I held them off for a bit."

"How long is 'a bit,'" Waylon asks, eyebrow raised. Eddie's face heats up. "That's what I thought."

"This is still important," Eddie says. "If you can manage to hold them off, even for minutes, then we have extra time to come get you."

"I'm never going to be alone! I'll always be with you or Jess," Waylon throws his hands up.

But you'll leave eventually. "Knowing how to fight is a life skill," Eddie says instead of voicing his thoughts. "Even if you never use it, it's good to have in the back of your brain."

"Fine," Waylon gives in. "What are you going to teach me?"

"Nothing formal," Eddie says. "No martial arts, I don't know them. I think Trevor called it 'bar brawling.' I always called it 'street fighting.'"

"Meaning," Waylon prods.

Eddie smiles. "I'm going to teach you how to make someone regret ever having touched you."

"That sounds...ominous."

Eddie chuckles. He looks up when he hears the glass door slide open. Jess comes out, sitting on the step. Trevor is watching TV. "After you go, I'm teaching him what I know," she tells him.

"Good idea."

"Oh God, what did I get myself into," Waylon groans.

"Ok," Eddie says, walking more into their backyard. He looks behind him to where the coop is, and the chickens are pecking at the door to their run. He doesn't want them in the way, so they'll have to put up with it for a bit. Waylon follows him and Eddie turns to face him. "The first thing you have to think before you start doing anything is 'this doesn't have to be a fair fight.'"

"What does that mean," Waylon asks.

"It means do whatever you can to get away," Jess says. "Claw at their eyes, bite their ears, kick them between their legs." Eddie nods.

"Jess will teach you more about that, I think she's more suited for teaching someone your size. All I'll teach you is how to throw a punch."

"I've never thrown a punch before," Waylon admits.

"No, really," Eddie asks. Waylon laughs.

"Ok, ok. I get it."

Eddie chuckles. "When you do throw a punch, you have to keep your wrist straight and make contact with your center knuckle." He makes a fist and points at it. "See how it sticks out the most?" Waylon makes a fist of his own and examines it before he nods. "You don't have to be my size to make it really hurt," Eddie assures him. "You're gonna have to put your whole body into it."

"How do you know so much about teaching someone to fight," Waylon asks.

"No so much teaching but I do remember learning to fight. I didn't have someone to teach me, just trial and error. I broke a few of my own bones before I figured it out."

"You can break your own bones?" Waylon sounds horrified.

"Wrist, fingers, forearm," Jess says. She shrugs when Waylon turns his astonished gaze on her. "Hey, punching takes a shit-ton of force. I went to a self-defense class when I was in high school as a requirement to fill out my gym training. They never taught us how to punch, so when I tried I broke a few fingers."

"Jesus," Waylon mutters.

"But you won't have to worry about that," Eddie says, drawing his attention again. "Because we're going to teach you. Can I see your arm," he asks, extending his hand. Waylon puts the back of his hand in Eddie's waiting one. Eddie lifts them like they're going to arm-wrestle. "Make a fist." Waylon does so. Eddie feels along his forearm. "Hmm. A little weak," Eddie mutters to himself. "So your punches might not be as effective. But you can still target areas that will hurt your opponent."

Waylon nods and Eddie lets go of his arm.

"Next thing you need to learn is to keep your wrists aligned with your forearm when you punch," Eddie continues. "That goes for straight and swinging punches." He turns his side to Waylon and throws a slow-motion punch both ways. "Jabs are great from a distance, swinging body blows are more for close contact."

"Got it."

"You also have to know where to punch someone," Eddie says. "Do not, under any circumstances, try to punch their skull. That's a surefire way to break your wrist and take yourself out of the fight. There are a few places on the face to punch, but not the forehead so don't miss. The nose is a great target. You can also try a swinging punch to their jaw. Right here, too," Eddie points ar a point directly below his breastbone.

"Solar plexus," Jess says from behind Waylon.

"The throat, too. It'll knock the wind out of them. And- I'm sure this will make you wince in sympathy but you have to avoid that during a fight- their groin."

"What if it's a woman," Waylon challenges.

"Still a good place to punch and kick," Jess says, standing up and joining them at last. "It hurts like a motherfucker, I can tell you from experience."

"Now you need to know how to stand," Eddie says.

"Stand," Waylon asks. "Really?"

"To protect yourself from getting hit in the same places you're aiming for," Eddie explains. "You're gonna have to angle your head and chin down a little." He demonstrates and Waylon mimics him.

“A little too much,” Eddie says, reaching out and lifting his chin slightly. He drops Waylon’s face after a second, clearing his throat. “Also, breathe out when you punch,” Eddie says after a moment. He gets into a punching position and looks at Waylon. “Try it.”

Waylon tries, but Eddie has to adjust him a little.

“There, that’s better.”

Waylon relaxes into his normal standing position.

“Ok, now show me,” Eddie says, extending his hand.

“Won’t I hurt you?”

“I’ve taken worse beatings.”

Waylon shrugs, focuses on his palm, get into position, and throws a punch. He misses by a mile, only succeeding in spinning himself out from the force he put in.

“Ok,” Eddie says, catching him. “Good start.”

“‘Good start’?! I didn’t even hit you,” Waylon exclaims, face red.

“But you put your body behind the attempt,” Eddie says, righting him. “Try again.”

This time, Waylon aims a little to the right of Eddie’s hand, and his fist makes contact. He shrinks back at the last second, not wanting to hurt his friend.

“No, see, you’re pulling back when you make contact,” Eddie says.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Eddie assures him.

“Edster, why don’t we just see if there’s a gym in town, or if we can borrow someone’s personal one?”

“Good idea,” Waylon answers instead.

They go inside. “Trevor,” Jess calls, and he looks over. “Is there a gym in town?”

“No,” he admits.

“Does anyone have a personal one?”

Trevor thinks. “Maybe Jason,” he muses. “I’ll see.” Trevor takes out his phone and sends a text. When he gets the answer, he looks up. “I was right. He’s coming to get y’all now.”

When Jason arrives, Eddie and Waylon get into his car.

“So, why do y’all need my gym,” Jason asks.

“Teaching Sam how to fight,” Eddie explains, switching easily to his fake name.

“Sounds like a good idea.” The drive is short, thankfully, and Jason leads them to his basement. There’s a heavy bag and some weights.

“Thanks, Jason,” Eddie nods.

“No problem. Yell if you need me,” Jason smiles, walking back upstairs.

Waylon looks at the hanging bag with trepidation. He walks forward and gently pushes it, and it barely moves. “What am I supposed to do with this,” he bemoans.

“You don’t have to- and shouldn’t- punch with everything you have at first,” Eddie says. “Start slow and gentle. Your arms are a little weak, so this should strengthen them, too.”

“How slow and gentle,” Waylon asks, soothed.

Eddie demonstrates- his punch moves the bag only slightly more than Waylon’s push had. Waylon nods and gets into the stance Eddie had shown him. “Remember to breathe out,” Eddie says and stands back.

Jess gets the computer and takes up residence on an armchair, queuing up videos and articles teaching Waylon how to fight.

Waylon and Eddie catch a ride back home and it’s nearly dark. Eddie and Jess make dinner for the four of them and then unwind for a bit. Jess keeps seeing Waylon shake his hand out and flex it and smiles privately. That’s a good sign- it means that Eddie really worked with him. They go to bed.

#trickster tales #outlast whistleblower #eddie gluskin #waylon park

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asian-heart-92 · 1 year

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A Real American Hero fancast (part 19)

Seth Greene as Andrew D. Meyers/Footloose

Zachary Levi as David K. Hasle/Salvo

Travis Fimmel as John Blanchet/Topside

Ryan Kwanten as Averill B. Whitcomb/Steam-Roller

Eddie Redmayne as Matthew Harris Breckenridge/Thunder

Michael B. Jordan as Caseload

Kristen Stewart as Bottom Line

Daveed Diggs as Burn-Out

James Franco as Edward J. Menninger/Backblast

Clive Standen as Terrence Lyndon/Captain Grid-Iron

#g.i. joe #fancast #a real american hero #seth greene #zachary levi #travis fimmel #eddie redmayne #michael b. jordan #kristen stewart #daveed diggs #james franco #clive standen

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goalhofer · 2 years

Conversation

U.S. Daily Low Temperature Records Tied/Broken 5/26/22

Unincorporated Crowley County, Colorado: 39 (previous record 40 2008)

Unincorporated Las Animas County, Colorado: 37 (also 2020)

Unincorporated Washington County, Colorado: 31 (previous record 34 2001)

Unincorporated Maui County, Hawaii: 49 (previous record 51 1983)

Marysville, Kansas: 30 (previous record 40 1961)

Washington Township, Missouri: 43 (previous record 46 1999)

Hot Springs, Montana: 36 (previous record 37 2013)

Bitter Lakes Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico: 37 (also 37 2016)

Unincorporated Eddy County, New Mexico: 42 (previous record 45 2020)

Unincorporated Eddy County, New Mexico: 50 (previous record 51 2020)

Unincorporated Socorro County, New Mexico: 38 (previous record 39 1996)

Sumner Lake State Park, New Mexico: 45 (also 45 2020)

Burns Flat, Oklahoma: 50 (previous record 51 2011)

Edgemont, South Dakota: 30 (also 30 2020)

Albany, Texas: 51 (also 51 1925)

Anson, Texas: 49 (previous record 50 2017)

Aspermont, Texas: 49 (previous record 50 1979)

Austin, Texas: 55 (previous record 62 1966)

Bay City, Texas: 59 (previous record 60 1947)

Baytown, Texas: 59 (previous record 60 1947)

Big Bend National Park, Texas: 55 (also 55 1992)

Breckenridge, Texas: 51 (previous record 52 1925)

Brownfield, Texas: 45 (previous record 46 1976)

Burleson, Texas: 51 (previous record 56 1988)

Burnet, Texas: 53 (previous record 54 1994)

Centerville, Texas: 54 (also 54 2017)

College Station, Texas: 60 (also 60 1979)

Columbus, Texas: 58 (also 58 1979)

Unincorporated Cooke County, Texas: 52 (previous record 53 2003)

Corsicana, Texas: 54 (also 54 1947)

Crane, Texas: 48 (previous record 50 2003)

Unincorporated Dallas County, Texas: 54 (previous record 55 1961)

Del Rio, Texas: 61 (also 61 1976)

Denver City, Texas: 48 (previous record 49 2020)

Dickinson, Texas: 61 (also 61 2020)

Ft. Worth, Texas: 51 (previous record 56 2011)

Friona, Texas: 42 (also 42 2020)

Hart, Texas: 43 (previous record 45 2020)

Unincorporated Hays County, Texas: 56 (previous record 59 1988)

Jacksboro, Texas: 45 (previous record 52 1946)

Unincorporated Jeff Davis County, Texas: 46 (previous record 50 1992)

Unincorporated Kimble County, Texas: 51 (previous record 56 1961)

Madisonville, Texas: 55 (previous record 56 2017)

McCamey, Texas: 52 (also 52 1976)

Mineral Wells, Texas: 51 (previous record 55 1950)

Palestine, Texas: 52 (also 52 1988)

Persimmon Gap summit, Texas: 56 (previous record 57 2011)

Pleasanton, Texas: 59 (previous record 63 2010)

Post, Texas: 48 (previous record 49 1982)

Putnam, Texas: 52 (previous record 53 2011)

Unincorporated Reagan County, Texas: 46 (previous record 52 1992)

Unincorporated Runnels County, Texas: 49 (previous record 55 2015)

San Angelo, Texas: 52 (also 52 1947)

Snyder, Texas: 47 (also 47 1950)

South Llano River State Park, Texas: 46 (also 46 1940)

Tahoka, Texas: 45 (previous record 49 1976)

Unincorporated Tom Green County, Texas: 49 (previous record 53 1992)

Victoria, Texas: 61 (previous record 65 1979)

Weatherford, Texas: 49 (previous record 50 1946)

Welder Wildlife Foundation Nature Preserve, Texas: 64 (previous record 65 2007)

White Settlement, Texas: 55 (previous record 58 1961)

Wichita Falls, Texas: 50 (previous record 51 1946)

Yoakum, Texas: 57 (previous record 58 1951)

Unincorporated Sublette County, Wyoming: 19 (previous record 22 1990)

#U.S.A.#U.S.#Colorado #Kansas #1960s #New Mexico #1990s #South Dakota #Texas #1920s #1970s #1940s #1980s #1950s #Wyoming #Hawaii #Montana #Missouri #Crazy Things #Awesome

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ghostcultmagazine · 3 years

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ALBUM REVIEW: Thrice – Horizons-East - Self Released

ALBUM REVIEW: Thrice – Horizons-East – Self Released

Two decades after their debut, the ever-evolving rock quartet Thrice have finely crafted a dynamic set of songs that are not only sonically pleasing, but lyrically awakening. Their eleventh (Self-Released) studio album, Horizons/East, is an eclectic collection of songs that practices extensive experimentation while maintaining the rawness of previous releases. Continue reading

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#album review #album reviews #Colleen Kanowsky #Dustin Kensrue #Eddie Breckenridge #Horizons/East #music reviews #piano #poetic lyrics #Post Hardcore #Post Rock #post-Rock Bubble #Riley Breckenridge #rock #Rock Music #Teppei Teranishi #Thrice

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fuckyeahthricearchive · 6 years

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#thrice #dustin kensrue #riley breckenridge #teppei teranishi #eddie breckenridge #palms

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toxiclittlevalentine · 5 years

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🎼🧸LAURA🧸🎼

“Silent Hill 2” (2001)

“Huh? Are you blind or something?”

#silent hill #silent hill 2 #laura #james sunderland #angela orosco #mary shepherd sunderland #aesthetic #moodboard #moodboards #eddie dombrowski #character #video game #konami #akira yamaoka #silent hill 3 #team silent #silent hill shattered memories #silent hill origins #jacquelyn breckenridge

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eddielimo-blog · 3 years

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Eddie limo's Denver to Breckenridge car service offers luxury limos & sharable shuttle service from Denver airport. Book @ (303) 803-7363 now.

#Denver to Breckenridge Car Service #Limo & Airport Shuttle #Eddie limo

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sweettoothedtrickster13 · 2 years

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On the Run Chapter 38

Summary: Talking it out

Tags: Eddie Gluskin/Waylon Park, Original Female Character, Outlast: Whistleblower

AO3 Portal

Trevor walks up to Katie's door. It's easy to find- it's the only closed one. "Hey," he says, sitting outside the door facing it with his back against the supports of the banister closing off the stairs. "It's just Trevor. The boys are gone." No response. "I'll just sit here and talk until you open that door, you know I will."

A few moments of silence. "What do you want," Katie bites out.

"To talk."

"Then talk."

"Not until I see your face." Katie sighs and opens the door slightly, face stony. "There you are," Trevor says gently.

"What do you want, Trevor?"

"First, you need to eat. Come on." He stands and walks downstairs. She follows him. She sits at the counter while he heats up food, then waits until she's eaten every scrap. "Ok. Now let's talk." He puts the dish in the sink and rinses it, not wanting food to get stuck to it. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She's closed off, defensive.

"You've been sitting in your room for three days and haven't spoken a word." She doesn't answer.

"Talk." Trevor's tone is strong, but he doesn't judge her. Something big happened to her to make her react the way she did.

"I was stupid, alright? I wasn't aware of my surroundings and I got caught. And I knew none of y'all knew, so I helped myself. Happy?"

"Nope. Keep going." Trevor knows there's more, even if he doesn't know exactly what.

Katie scowls at the counter. "That's it."

"I don't think so," Trevor says. He ducks his head to get eye contact. "Why won't you talk to them?"

Katie's shoulders tense and she breaks eye contact again. Trevor waits. "What do you want me to say," she asks quietly.

"The truth would be nice."

She shrugs slightly, still not looking at him. "The leader. When he was talking about how they caught us the first time, he implied that...Sam only cared about Kyle and Kyle only cared about Sam."

"And you think that means they don't care about you," Trevor connects the dots.

A nearly imperceptible nod comes from her.

"Aw, Hell," Trevor says. "He's just trying to get in your head. And I'm surprised you let him."

"They're always around each other. I feel like a fucking third wheel in my own home."

"That's not the whole truth, is it," he asks.

"No," she admits after a handful of seconds.

"It's just us. And I won't tell nobody," Trevor says gently.

Katie sniffles. "I don't want them to leave," she whispers.

"There it is," he says quietly. Katie covers her face. Trevor sits next to her and waits her out while she cries. She dries her face and sits up.

"That's such a stupid thought," Katie reprimands herself. "Like, Sam has a family and Kyle will leave and I'll be alone again."

"You don't have to stay here," Trevor points out.

"This is the only home I've ever known." That breaks Trevor's heart.

"Then make it a home," Trevor says. "Have someone come and live, get into a relationship or something," he adds. Katie sniffles and grabs a napkin, wiping her nose. "And don't you dare say nothing about your weight," he warns.

"Wasn't gonna."

"Good," he nods. He looks at her. "Now, can I call the boys back and you can talk to them?" Katie takes a steadying breath and nods. Trevor sends the text.

Barnes scowls. He let Ellis get away. On her own this time, no less. He had found the broken chair and snapped it more over his knee, snarling. These three. They're not even especially talented, they're just fucking slippery. And the town has rallied around them. He was lucky to have found their house, but he had to move fast and was alone so he couldn't even bug it. And now he won't get the chance. They'll never leave it unoccupied again. He growls to himself.

Breckenridge comes back and sees that he's pissed and wisely stays away. Breckenridge is not too happy himself with having to ride into town and sit in town hall sifting through useless document after useless document for hours on end every day. He knows that the town is drowning them, probably under the direction of that asshole, Stokes. How he gets the town to listen to him without question is beyond him.

The others trickle back, most of them stretching to get the cricks out of their necks and backs from sitting and reading papers all day.

Clifton is the one who approaches Barnes eventually. "Boss," he says, getting him nothing but a scowl. "What's the plan?"

Barnes calms himself and thinks. "Surveillance," he says after a moment. "We'll ask for some drones to be sent." Clifton nods and lets him be. Barnes thinks about what else they'll need to surveil the town. They brought some equipment, but not enough to cover the town. Maybe two bugs and three pinhole cameras. "Thorpe," he calls, and the man picks his head up.

"Sir."

"Equipment check." Thorpe nods and the others help him set out all their equipment. Mostly weapons- they are a strike team after all- but like he thought. A few pieces of surveillance equipment, and he was even right on the count. They also have three GPS trackers and some equipment to clone phones. The nice thing about the cloning part is that it's wireless. All they have to do is get close enough to a phone and press a button. The equipment will do the rest of the process on its own.

"Ok. What have you found out," Barnes asks.

"We're drowning in documents, sir," Wescott admits. "And I think the clerk keeps adding them when we aren't there."

"See if you can get a camera in there," Barnes orders. "Anything else?"

"Seems like Stokes is staying with them now," Victors says.

"Get a clone on his phone when he leaves. What are the major buildings in town?"

"The library," Clifton says.

"The general store," Summers adds.

"The market, but that's more of an area," Georgeson says.

"See if you can stick a camera in the general store. Do these read lips," he asks. Blackburn checks.

"Two of them do," she says.

"Put the one that can't in the general store. And bug the library near the front desk."

"Yes, sir," several of the team say.

"Anything else?" Head shakes. "Alright. Go."

They disperse again, going to follow orders.

Jess feels almost-sheepish when Waylon and Eddie come back. When they catch sight of her, a wide grin settles on Way's face and a small smile on Eddie's. Trevor goes upstairs to give them privacy.

"It's good to see you, Jess," Waylon says. Eddie nods his agreement.

Jess exhales. "I needed time."

"And we gave it to," Eddie points out.

"Thanks."

"So are you going to tell us why you were avoiding us or am I going to have to beat it out of you," Eddie asks with a raised eyebrow. Jess laughs.

"Yeah right. Any time, any place," she jokes. The humor disappears in an instant and she looks at the counter, picking at the edge. "I thought you guys didn't care about me."

"What? Why would you think that," Waylon asks, sitting next to her and putting his hand on her shoulder.

"That leader guy, he said that neither of you mentioned my name when we were captured."

"He was lying, trying to get in your head," Eddie says, taking a half step closer.

"That's what Trevor said. But," she trails off. "I don't know. You two are always together, and I feel like you only come to me when you need me."

"That's not true, Jess," Waylon says earnestly. "We wanted your help in planting, but you wouldn't come down."

Jess smiles wryly and looks at their glass back doors.

"We didn't know you were missing," Eddie says. "If we had, we would have come and gotten you."

"Thanks," Jess says quietly. Waylon rubs across her shoulderblades and pulls her in. She puts her head on his shoulder.

"Now come on, the video call is tomorrow. You'll get to see Paul and Hunter again."

Jess nods and straightens. "Trevor," she calls. He comes downstairs, smiling.

"Everything good now," he asks. The trio nods.

"But I do need to see Jerome," Jess says as she stands.

"Why," Waylon asks with a frown.

"We need to get some things so that Murkoff can't track us now that they're in town."

Trevor nods. "I'll call for him to come get you."

Jess leaves with the young man and they go to his house. Once there, Jess turns to him. "Do you have anything I can use to block any RFID readers or detect bugs or anything like that," she asks.

Jerome beams. "I actually have a few bug detectors around," he nods. "And everyone in town already has an anti-RFID chip reader on their wallets."

"Marry me," Jess says. Jerome laughs loudly, making her smile. "Show me those bug detectors."

Jerome leads her to his dining room, where she had gotten all the parts to build the second computer. He picks up a slim silver device and hands it over. Jess turns it over in her hands. "And there's nothing is in this house, right?"

"Right. I have magnets on the entrances and exits hidden in the jambs, they'll pretty much fuck with anything electronic that's turned on when they pass."

"You're the best."

Jerome smiles. "Anything else?"

"White noise generator," Jess offers.

"Somewhere," Jerome mutters to himself, looking through the drawers. He makes a victorious noise after a few moments, producing a small black speaker. Jess accepts it from him and smiles down at it. "Thank God for paranoia and boredom."

Jess nods and smiles. “Mind if I help you make a few more? We can stick them in the buildings around town.”

“The more the merrier.”

They sit down and start working. Jess allows herself to be soothed being surrounded by electronics and their parts. She already felt a lot better after talking to Way and Eddie, but this is just what she needed.

They work together silently until Jess’ phone pings. She checks it- three hours have passed. It’s Waylon, checking on her. Fine, she texts back. Just building a few things. Will be home soon.

Jess finishes building the white noise generator she’s been working on and looks over their new stash. Ten in all, plus the one Jerome is building.

“Did you ever hear of a faraday cage for phones,” Jess asks Jerome. Jerome looks up and chuckles, reaching into his pocket and bringing out his phone. It’s wrapped in a cloth and he hands it over. Jess feels the cloth and laughs- it’s just what she had been talking about. “You were born for this.” Jerome shrugs and his cheeks color slightly, barely noticeable on his dark skin. “Alright, I should be getting home.”

Jerome nods and drives her there. She goes inside and sits on the couch.

“What were you building,” Eddie asks.

“White noise generators. Have you ever been between radio stations and you just hear buzzing,” she asks Eddie, who nods. “That’s white noise. What I was building makes that so that Murkoff can’t listen in on what we’re saying in town.”

Eddie nods his understanding. “It’s amazing how many computer things there are.”

“Now I just need to get in touch with VIRALeaks,” Jess says, pulling a computer closer.

“Why,” Waylon asks.

“They need to know Murkoff is in town. Maybe they can give us some information on who these guys are.” Waylon nods and Jess starts to type.

Waylon and Eddie make dinner in the meantime and Jess finishes what she’s doing in time to eat.

“What else did you do with Jerome,” Waylon asks while Trevor cleans up.

“He already had bug detectors, God bless him. And a cloth faraday cage for his phone, and everyone in town already has an anti-RFID scan wallet.”

Trevor holds up his wallet to showcase it.

“Back up,” Eddie says. “Explain.”

“A faraday cage is basically a box you can put electronics in so that no radio waves get in or out,” Waylon explains. Eddie still looks blank.

“Put phone in, Murkoff can’t bug it,” Jess says. Eddie nods. “And an RFID scanner can latch onto your credit cards and see who is buying what in what quantities and get into your bank records. Since they can’t do that, they’ll have to use another way to find out who to pay off.” Eddie nods again. “Now Jerome is gonna get more of those faraday cloths since I can’t make them. Once everyone has them, it should give Murkoff a devil of a time trying to clone anything.”

“Clone,” Eddie repeats.

“You can set up a new phone to receive the same calls and texts another one does, and you can listen in on anything you want,” Waylon says.

Eddie shakes his head. “That’s...a lot.”

“Age of technology,” Jess shrugs. “Not always a good thing.”

#outlast whistleblower #waylon park #eddie gluskin #trickster tales

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charaznablescanontoyota · 3 years

Text

at least in this lifetime, we're sticking together

12x100 sequel to cold like the first time that i wrote for me and like 12 other people, uhhhhh enjoy i suppose

The beach house in Oregon is quiet in a more comfortable way than the car was, a silence they can sink into rather than one that settles uneasily in the air like a fog. Quill soaks up the sunlight with the enthusiasm of someone who’s only had the false equivalent for years, falls asleep on the back deck with headphones in and wakes up in the dark only when Edric comes outside to drape a blanket over them.

“You looked cold,” he says, when they blink at him.

“I am,” they say, and hold out a hand. “Keep me warm?”

II.

Quill tries not to sound surprised every time they pick up the phone. They keep getting stuck on the idea that one day Edric’s going to stop calling them back, that the weekly calls might become monthly and then yearly and then nothing at all. But they know well enough how to twist surprise and relief in their voice into excitement, how to smile through the bemusement until they relax into the idea that Edric is calling for them, not some Shaquille Torres he can imagine they are. That there’s nothing to perform, no one Edric would rather them be.

III.

“Ow - fuck,” Quill hisses as the knife blade bites into the side of their thumb - and freezes, more surprised still by their ability to swear and be heard than by the blood beading on their skin.

“Shit,” Edric says. He gravitates towards them, hovers, like they might melt down or shatter if he bridges the gap between their bodies. Quill arches an eyebrow.

“Eds, I’m fine.”

There’s no visible wince on his face when they say it, no flinch or grimace. Quill doesn’t know what they were expecting. After over a decade, some surfaces aren’t too hot to touch anymore.

IV.

“Same time next week,” Edric starts saying, before he says goodnight and hangs up the phone. Like he knows they’re worried, without them having to say anything. It should feel patronizing, but it doesn’t.

“You don’t have to make time for me every week,” Quill says once, half-joking, half-prodding. Sometimes they’re just tired enough on the phone to let things slip, to push him in ways they otherwise wouldn’t.

“‘Course I do,” Edric says, easy as anything. “I like talking to you. Nothing else I’d rather be doing right now.”

“Oh,” Quill says, and doesn’t push him on it again.

They share a bed in the beach house. Quill’s had decades to become comfortable with touch, but this is different, more overwhelming somehow. They’re acutely aware of Edric’s arm around them, of Edric’s breath on their skin, and they’re so afraid of ruining it somehow that they can’t sleep at all.

“Baby,” Edric mutters, on the second night, when he tries to take their hand and they startle.

Quill laughs. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He rubs a slow circle into their wrist with his thumb. “That okay?”

“Mmhm,” Quill hums, and lets the steady motion of it lull them to sleep.

VI.

“I love you,” Quill practices saying to themself in their room, running their thumb over a rock from the swamp already worn smooth by touch.

“I think I’m in love with you,” they say under their breath in the showers, alone, wondering if it’s too many words. “I want to be with you, but I’m scared.”

“I love you, Eds,” they tell the silent forest, loud and clear, rolling every syllable around in their mouth to see how it tastes.

“Miss you, Eddie,” they say on the phone, fingers curled in the fabric of their shirt. “Have a good night.”

VII.

The long siesta’s coming to an end, but there’s nowhere for either of them to be. No reason to go back to Breckenridge, and certainly none to go back to Elysium. Not for more than a visit, anyway, and not to see anyone who really lives there.

“We could stay here,” Quill says one morning, testing the idea like it’s thin ice.

Edric glances over at them from across the kitchen. “Yeah?”

“Until -” And they falter, a little. “Until something happens.”

“Sure,” Edric says, “we can swing that.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He pauses. Not a falter. Something else. “Until something happens.”

VIII.

“Combs is dead,” Edric says, when they pick up the phone - and Quill already knows, because they help greet every newcomer to the Trench, give them the tour and the welcome packet. But they sit there in the silence with him anyway, sympathy stuck in their throat, picking at an ancient, peeling sticker someone adhered to the switchboard’s receiver.

“Quill? Baby?”

“Sorry,” they say, and blink themself back to the present. “Sorry, Eddie. What do you need?”

“Just talk to me for a bit?”

“Sure,” Quill says, relaxing into their chair. Or trying to, at least. “I’m great at that.”

IX.

They stay in the beach house.

It’s not all that nice, year round. There are storms. It gets cold. But there’s no blaseball in Oregon, so Quill and Edric can pretend that it never existed. That it’s never broken their lives in ways they can only patch, not fix. That it might never break either of them that way again.

Edric stands on the back deck sometimes, and toys with something too small to see in between his fingers. Quill thinks they know what it is, but they don’t ask. It’s the one part of his business that isn’t theirs.

“You don’t talk much,” they say, impulsively, to the operator waiting for Edric to pick up on the other line.

“No,” he says, “I don’t.”

“Do you ever talk to Edric?”

“Sometimes.”

“He calls the switchboard every week,” Quill says. “You don’t have conversations?”

“He’s not calling for me,” the operator says.

“Do you ever listen in?”

The operator makes a noise. Offense, Quill thinks. “No.”

“I would.”

“It’s bad manners.”

“Why?”

“It’s...private,” the operator says. “He wouldn’t like it. Neither of you would.”

“We don’t talk about anything secret.”

“He loves you.”

It’s hard to argue with that.

XI.

Edric is up pacing again, and Quill slips out of the bedroom to watch, standing in the door frame with a blanket around their shoulders.

“Eds,” they say, quiet.

“I -” he starts, turning to look at them. “They keep putting out things that affect the fucking shadows, and I - maybe not this time, but -”

“Come here?”

He does. Quill wraps him in the blanket with them, folding their arms carefully around his shoulders, pulling him so close their foreheads touch.

“I’m tired of being scared,” Edric says, under his breath.

“Me too,” Quill says, and leans in and kisses him.

XII.

“Love you,” they say for the first time without thinking about it, at the tail end of a call that’s mostly talking about nothing. Quill snaps their mouth shut like they can force the words back into it, and hopes the static on the line swallows their voice, distorts it enough to make the sentiment unrecognizable.

“Love you, baby,” Edric says, with only a second of hesitation. He’s breaking up, but Quill knows the next part by rote. “Same time next week?”

“Same time next week,” Quill echoes, hiding their smile with one hand like he’s capable of seeing it.

#marn writes #mirrorverse au #blaseball #like. extremely roughly blaseball. we are so far removed from blaseball #anyway have more of the incredibly niche content that lives in my brain rent fucking free at this point

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