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enslaughts · 11 months

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@doomdays. . . akilah.

' do whatever you have to do. '

most days, javi sleeps. they all do, but they don't all have a room to themselves, and even travis has taken to sleeping by the fire with the rest of them. they're too tired to do much else, too weak. too hungry. everything reeks of it ; starvation and fear, like saliva. sleeping, waking nightmares, one - sided conversations in the corners of the cabin, glazed over gazes stared at nothing. someone's going to die soon. shauna almost killed one of them with her own hands, bare and white to red - knuckled, wild, may yet still. javi doesn't want to eat lottie. he doesn't want to be like them, but someone's going to die soon, he knows this. dreams of it, over and over in the fine lines of the wood grain, memorized.

lately, though, he dreams of worse things. sunlight and stovetops. travis' eyes but older, taller, heavy. travis, younger, shorter, lighter. small smiles over a table and hot food in his mouth. when he wakes, the ring on his thumb feels too loose, too cold, like a piece of him's broken off. left hanging by a thread. when he wakes, there's water in his eyes and his mouth and what feels like his lungs, sputtered and wheezing out into the white, where it's too cold to feel. it should be, anyway. today, he's a prey animal, folded at the tree - line, the waist, sheer hunger, tucked away and hidden. he wants to leave. he wants to run again so bad he can taste it, frost turned to thaw in his mouth, sweet respite from the snow. he doesn't warm his hands in it, though— no, he presses them into the frozen ground until he can't feel them anymore.

only then does he notice akilah. flinches with his eyes and nothing else, hers almost black in the pre - dawn blue, but they're wide, imploring, and javi is too out in the open, too seen. for a moment, he's tucked in a darker, greener place, moonlight and fire, and it's shauna's black, black gaze boring into his. akilah opens her mouth and all javi hears is run. but he can't— i can't, he wants to say. needs to ; to her, to travis, they weren't like the others. alikah was just as hungry as the rest of them, but she was also good, and kind, not just to him, and he thinks he could trust her, but his lips are sealed and shaking, and he can only shake some more, his head, side to side, no. no. he won't leave travis. not again.

#doomdays. . .⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀akilah #interaction. . .⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝙰𝙽𝚂𝚆𝙴𝚁⠀:⠀javi martinez #i just think. javi knowing where he would be safe but never returning to it #all of them know he could just leave again and he very well might survive better for it because #what the fuck he survived two months on his own that way! what the hell!#pleaseee let me know if it's too god - mod - y i just felt like. akilah would let him know he could leave. run away again.#hide from whatever hell is coming next #but javi is a brother before anything out there!! and seeing how relieved travis was just to have him back will never leave him ever ever #okay. okay sorry to ramble so much in and out of character <3 #it chooses on constant rotation in my mind rn #akilah as the only one without a weapon in the hunt akilah as the only other person wanting to save javi like nat even if they don't #miss girl i love you forever

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mallickshah · 3 years

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A safe place (I)

February 11th @ Yureif’s Tavern ; Evening ( of DOOMDAY )

A safe place had never been part of the things he’d grown up to need.

When Saiyah had come into his life, she’d brought along something that had long been foreign to him. The touch of something that kept everything else at bay, she’d also brought her own safe place. She’d needed it more than he’d had, she’d grown with the need for a protective shield rather than the will to fight, because she was a serf, human, unwanted by many, shun by all in this faction. A species that could not find a way to survive on these soils.

The first time she’d told him about having somewhere she could hide and let herself feel safe, where she’d felt like no harm could come to her, he’d found it strangely uncanny. Mallick had the strength, mind and physical, to hold his own in fights, to hold his own in life in general, he’d never needed a hideout for the things he couldn’t confront. Because Mallick had been raised to confront it all, it was unfathomable for him to be a Shah and a Club and not have the will to fight his fight and hide somewhere when they became too much. There was simply not such a thing as too much.

Their beginnings had been rocky, between his unrelenting need to show her that she could be strong, the need to protect her and her soft resignation that she just would never amount to what he’d grown used to. Their minds had collided more than once. But, somehow, in the midst of it all and the gruntings he’d left her with at times, Saiyah and Mallick had managed to create a bubbling world that had, with time and the years, come to make him realize what she’d meant by a shelter where nothing mattered and you felt as if nothing could harm you.

Saiyah had given him a safe place.

Mallick had never realized though, not until he’d lost her, and even then--he hadn’t truly understood why his world had been shaken to the point where his trust in everything he’d ever believed in had been shaken to its core. He hadn’t understood it after a year, or two of being in the resistance and he hadn’t all these years.

Rather, he was understanding it now.

The news came while he was at Yureif’s tavern, the only pint of the night he’d be drinking still in his hand. Somewhere in that situation, Mallick would find humor with his brother later on, because the news of Saiyah’s death had also found him in the same position. Hand wrapped around a cold beer and playful banter passing between comrades of any and all kinds. Yureif’s tavern welcomed any and all for a good time, no brawls, no violence and the means to evacuate anyone who would dare to disturb the peace. This was the only tavern of their family with such strict rules, implemented because Yureif did not want to have to explain to his wife, or his children, why he was running a place that could turn out to be dangerous.

Also, largely in part because Yureif was against violence. He despised it, had always despised it. He was more of the type to find danger in nature, rather than in people. When they’d been little, Mallick had always loved watching them, Yureif and Pribas, the only twins among his brothers, like ice and fire. Because where Yureif was a thrill seeker in anything that was not breathing, unless it was an animal, Pribas had always been quite fond of taking more than his fair share of hits and bruising as much as he got bruised.

Needless to say, their arguments always reflected worry for one another. Yureif with his dangerous animals, Pribas with his dangerous fights. So when the men came in, loud and ready to deliver the news, Yureif was the first to step from behind the bar, cloth thrown over his shoulder to remind them of the rules of his tavern. It didn’t matter your ranks, he’d make sure that it was followed, so would the customers of the tavern. A lovely regular bunch who liked to keep it peaceful and would act as volunteering guns if necessary.

“We’re only delivering the news.” One of the men raised his hands and Yureif nodded towards him who spoke.

“Then deliver and get gone.”

The mistrust was evident, their weapons were not hidden, their stances too aggressive to be taken as a pacific walk in. They gauged their audience and Mallick leaned back against the back legs of his chair to do the same, a look over how many of them they were, where they might have come from. They looked like the guards of the armory, as far as he could tell. He recognized one face among them and if they noticed him, it didn’t seem to show, their eyes not staying put on the arch of the eyebrow Mallick was sending their way.

“These are orders from our Ace, they need to be followed to the letter and anyone who even thinks of not abiding by its code will face the consequences.” That was when the man let the leaflets reach Yureif’s hands, although it was more so slapped on his chest and he held it there for a bit, refusing to take a look until the men made right by their promise to not cause any commotion.

The man, who seemed to be in charge given that he’d been doing all the talking, tilted his head and marched his guards right back out of the tavern. They had nothing against the guards of the armory per se, but ever since Mallick had made it obvious to Yureif that he had his reticences with their Ace, his brother had somehow grown a sensitive bone towards anything that involved the man himself. Did Mallick want his brother involved in this? Of course not. But it was not a surprise that Yureif would take a strong stance, whether it was his fight or not. It was in the blood, was it not? It was what made Mallick the designated leader of the family, this power they all had flowing through their veins to protect everything, especially the people in their family.

The pride in his chest would never cease to amaze him, the swell of it had him rising from his seat. But Mallick had a frown almost instantly as he saw Yureif’s own at reading the message scribbled on the paper.

“What is it this time?”

Mallick’s hopes? That the good conversation they’d been having about the barbarians getting some action last night would be somewhat continued once the message was read. So to see Yureif frowning and cursing under his breath was not a good sign at all.

“Fuck, why is it that your instincts always have to suck so much at being wrong?”

Mallick shook his head, more than confused. However, once he took in the message on the leaflet, it all started to make a whole lot of sense.

Every information leading to the death or arrest of HIM, the barbarians or a member of the resistance will be rewarded with an extra food ration.

The message left him feeling with a tangible bitter taste in his mouth, but it wasn’t that terrible. It did get wrinkled and tossed right out where the guards had brought it from, but just as soon as it was tossed, Pribas was running in, making the revolving door shake in his haste to come in. He was panting, had to take his breath but once it was done and the feathers were done falling from his quick shifting before he got through the doors.

The message Pribas carried made the taste stronger, more palpable, Mallick could almost taste ashes and blood. The heaviness of it was unrelenting and he wanted to do anything, anything but be here right now, listening to Pribas ramble on about what was going on out there in the quietness that Mallick had thought would be a constant for a little while. It would have come with such relief, wouldn’t it, after all that HIM and his barbarians had caused. After all that ruckus and hurt, and Mallick’s words to the resistance’s members who had wondered if they should act.

What had Mallick told them again?

It might not be our place this time, we should wait to see what the Ace does.

Because as much as it’d pained him to sit still and watch, he’d somewhat thought him capable of handling this without the need for any externally drastic measures. But now, not only was he not putting out something like a hit on every resistance’s members, he was also seemingly going the same route that HIM had.

Doing what he thought would be right to do, by force.

Mallick had been wrong to think that an Ace would be able to handle this for the good of his people, without causing more hurt, he had been wrong and he needed the resistance now more than ever. He needed something, something he’d thought long gone when he’d lost Saiyah.

He needed that constant had he known, had never once made him regret to have chosen them. Mallick needed his safe space, to be able to give the same to everyone else in Clubs who had never asked for anything else but that. Peace and safety. This was obviously not speaking to those who preferred the chaos of it all, it spoke of those who had not chosen that path or been given the ability to have it. Those who like Saiyah, had been forced to seek shelter somewhere other than where they’d been born and even that was being threatened by the one person who should have been doing the right thing by his people.

Which, if that was the case, then two did not need to play at this game. Both pieces of this chess needed to be tackled and taken out of the field, consecutively or at the same time.

It was time for a plan that was for the people, not for power.

#the wounded widow (solo)#an articulate drabble #dividing it in two parts bc it grew #the second one is basically how they got the resistance together--origamis msgs or smth idk pigeons ????#whatever it is they're meeting that night too #angryteddyarc

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ophelia-hendrix · 4 years

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Ketchup Saga

@warrioroflondonbelow

“This looks like the island from Jurassic Park” *off tune singing the theme song* “mmmm fuck yes” *when Cillian has his Irish accent* “This woman looks like a Kate” “I don’t care if he’s a murderer, He’s a nine man!” “That is a serial killer house if I ever saw one. The Sin Shack” *Aggressivly chef’s kissing* “That is a sad jumper” “When he’s running he has raptor hands” *Sings the Goosebumps theme* “He’s so cute he just wants his Fucking biscuits!” “Just Cillian Murphy’s raptor hands* “He’s wearing the sad jumper. Whats wrong boy?” “He’s wearing a jumper and his arms are showing. Oh my goodness.” “Why is he sorry?!” “It’s my first and my second husband meeting” *ees Jamie Bell *snorts at my your mum jokes* “My first husband has a gyn” *both rambling *right into microphone* “hELLO?!” “When you see the booty!” *as Jamie falls over* “My first husband was an idiot as you can see” “Can we keep Cillian even if he has Rabies?” “he’s flexing the Gore-Tex” “Where is he going? is that an inflatable pool? Does he want to swim?” *Chris is turned on by her first husband choking her second husband* “They brought boardgames how nice.” “Hey Jamie can you please wipe off your blood off your face.” “Why are there candles? Who needs that many candles.” *mocking me* “Is this a small town in Australia? Cause Yeeaaaaas!” “This is his Hobby, boarding up windows.” *Chris thorsts over jumpers* “This sounds like Corona. I’m telling you.” “He can help with the hello kitty inflatable pool” “That’s how the movie ends, axe to the face.” “My husband thows axes. Now you know why I had to divorce him, he was too much.” “This is the sin shack.” *both goes “whaaaaar? Noooooo” from The Happening.” “He’s a sweet puppy boy, who will probably die but we still love him.” “What the fuck why did he give him the gun.” “Our mums would band together. Mine with the slipper and yours would yell.” “Oh I forgot how good his arms are” *Jamies arm* “Let me see my sweet boy” “AWWWW!” “Whar are those tattoos?!” “Its fake, *both shout HE STOLE HIS SHIRT AT THE SAME TIME!” “I thought he was gonna shoot the carrots like POW POW!” *Both shout OH NOOOOO when Cillian cries* *Chris laughs at my childhood trauma* “Hes rude, no manners, misogynistic. We don’t like this.” “Don’t put your gun in your pussy pocket.” “THEY ARE GOING TO FUQ!” *Both quoting The Shining* *Rambling while I scream* “FUCK NOOOOO!” “Fuck you Jamie! And your fucking elf ears” “Is he a doomdays prepper” *Both shouting Spahettiiiiiiii* *singing a Spanish Christmas song* “He’s dead on a fucking rock” *sings* “LOOK AT THOSE ARMS. AH! FUCK!” *both singing Feliz Navidad really loudly* *both screaming* *Chris laughing at my singing* *microphone cracks and her voice becomes demonic* “Those asthma sounds is me when I see him” “The turns and tabled” “Why don’t he just shoot him?” “THEA WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING!” “I wanna see him die” “EW IT’S BITS!” “It’s still gross” “Oh the carrot is dead.” “It’s the ketchup saga!” “he’s a strong boy he's gonna live” *denies me when I say he’s gonna die” “Oh there he is. oh fuck! oh fuck! no!” *Both screaming NO! NO! AS HE DIES* “Oh no! it’s flying everywhere! NO NO NO NO NO NO!” *Chris is confused while I scream put him out of his misery” “Come on shoot him, shoot my first husband. Nasty elf boy” “Here. Listen to my soundcloud.” *mumbles into the microphone* "Dobby was surrounded by friends.” *sees Cillian’s body in a wheelbarrow* “Me being taken home after too much to drink* “Oh great! That was sad” “Imagine being Cillian in a wheelbarrow just pretending to be dead” “Told you he was a good boy!”

#warrioroflondonbelow

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