#yeah i checked it real quick THIS FUCKER SURVIVED A SHOT TO THE HEAD i hate this series
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given that LAD brought back three characters thought to be dead (two by fans and one in-universe), and the ever important lack of a body, I hold out hope. If so, I really hope his new identity is basically his emo self but now in his 40s.
it'd be SO soon after he was killed it'd just feel like a kick to the dick honestly, but it would be hilarious at the same time ☠
#snap chats#rgg isnt nice to its antagonists though- well except maybe joon-gi#but thats on a technicality. i guess#god how did kashiwagi even survive THAT shit though. can we get a book on that king#'how i survived being gunned down the the cia. or black monday. or whoever the fuck was in the helicopter'#p sure lau ka long is hiding somewhere in LAD too but i cant remember- either that or its also a lookalike#yeah i checked it real quick THIS FUCKER SURVIVED A SHOT TO THE HEAD i hate this series#at that point why not just bring og joon-gi back. but dont yeonsu's my guy my dude my bro#he died 10 times for me against kiryu LMAO#at least bring rikiya back how about that rgg huh. please. im begging you he was just a boy#back to kashiwagi tho i love daigo's summon and how he resurrects 'dead' tojo members#and then kashiwagi's fake ass is just standing there as if he doesn't have to haul his way back to the survive bar right afterwards
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4 . 10 . 16
The Broken Few Pt. 3
Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 2.1k
Warning: Mentions of violence, imagery of guns and knives, language.
If either Jaehyun, Ten, or Mark could foresee how the day would end up for them they would have known to brace themselves. The moment they entered the small restaurant Jaehyun and Ten were on edge. Mark looked back and forth between them, instantly noticing the change in posture and expression. It was then that he noticed a man in a blue button down shirt, a few buttons undone to expose silver chains, and wore red tinted glasses. The unknown man leaned back in his chair and looked over the three freely. Sat next to him was another man dressed more formally. He wore mainly black and grey and had a mullet. Mark leaned over to Ten and whispered to him “What’s going on?”
Ten elbowed him to shut up and gave him a look. “Promise to stay silent, okay. Unless you are spoken to.” Ten gulped and put on his best poker face. Jaehyun genuinely was a bit surprised but didn’t show it at all. The two of them were just not expecting to run into Jackson and JB. Especially since this was well into their area of the city. Jaehyun looked as if he wanted to kill them right then and there. Ten clearly saw a vein stressed on his neck from how hard he was clenching his jaw.
“Jackson. JB. What brings you here?” Jaehyun choked out with the best impression of calm he could give at the moment. Jaehyun, Taeyong, and Yuta had all had a long string of issues with the boys in Got7. They were always having to give up what was rightfully theirs in order to survive. Jaehyun knew that but it didn’t make the situation any less rage inducing.
Jackson stood up with a half smile and lifted his glasses so that they rested on his head. “Just wanted to talk about some business. Boss man around?” He walked up to Jaehyun and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve been having some… Issues lately.”
If not for his bad habit with his jaw, Jaehyun came across as confident and assertive as he said, “No, he’s not but I’m sure we can figure some things out.”
“I’m not so sure. It’s in your best interest that him and I work it out Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun looked back to Mark and Ten. “Can you two give him a call and get him here as soon as possible?” A single nod from the both of them was all that was needed before they headed off.
Jaehyun was left with the two opposing family members and had to make small talk in the meantime. That was not by any means a skill he possessed. However, faking it he could do. He was not genuine or warm during their conversation but he would fake it almost unnoticeably. “Might I ask what this business is about, now that the kids have gone off to play?”
Jackson chuckled curtly as he could clearly tell there was a certain bite to his tone no matter how much he tried to hide it. Jaehyun couldn’t hide that from him. “Same issue it’s always been dear Jaehyun. Lines. Ones you’re overstepping.”
“Any examples? Or do you plan on just playing us again?” He growled out keeping a very fierce eye contact with Jackson, one that was unyielding.
Jackson sat back in his seat, JB silent at his side. “Ya, we made a deal you know. We won’t fuck with you or hinder any business as long as you stay the fuck away from ours.” He tilted his head and for the first time in their little session he returned Jayhun’s obvious distaste.
“We’ll talk when Taeyong gets here.” He said curtly to end the conversation before he decked the fucker right in his face.
Ten pulled out his cell and called up Taeyong as Mark hailed a taxi for them to catch back to the house. Jaehyun had texted the both of them to make sure to stick around with the eldest boy, even when they got back to the restaurant. As they got into the taxi, Taeyong had finally picked up the phone.
“Taeyong, hey… Yeah, just like he said he’s with them at the restaurant… yeah… Alright… We’re taking a taxi so we’ll be there in less than 5… You got it. See you in a bit.” Ten hung up and looked over to Mark. “Ever been in a fight? Or shot a gun?”
Mark was taken back at the gun part. He had been in a ton of fights, sure. He’d only shot a gun once though. Way back when he was probably too young for it to be allowed. He remembered his dad liked to go hunting. One day he took Mark with his and even showed him how to shoot a gun but it was years ago. He remembered how loud it was and how it hurt his shoulder even with his dad there to keep him steady “I can throw a punch, but I’ve only shot a Springfield rifle once. Years ago.”
“That’s something. Just be ready for a fight in there when we get back.” He took a moment to pause and sigh at the thoughts going through his head for Mark. “You’d better be ready. You’re really getting pushed right into the deep end fast.”
Mark gulped and nodded before mentally prepping. He had to keep telling himself, ‘This is real. This is real life.’ but if it meant protecting Jaehyun and Taeyonng he was ready.
When they arrived outside at the bottom of the apartment Taeyong was at the last few steps that led up to their humble abode, ready to go. As soon as the cab halted, Taeyong was on his feet and opening the door. Mark scooted over as he gave the two of them small greetings. He looked to the front to see who was driving the cab. Taeyong gave a small nod, to which it was returned. That was a sign he could speak freely and do as he wished. This driver was local.
“Okay, Ten you know the plan so I brought your favorites.” Taeyong pulled out a small gun and a karambit knife. Ten smiled at the sight of his preferred weapons of choice as he gave it a quick spin around his finger till the grip was reversed and he looked ready for one hell of an upward slash. He flicked it closed, pocketed it, and then tucked the gun away into his hoodie. He was rather proud of the DIY pocket he had made in it for the soul purpose of holding various concealed items.
Taeyong faced Mark who was surprisingly calm considering the current situation. “Had no idea what you’d prefer, so just take this for now. We’ll have you wait outside and make sure no one gets involved from outside.” Taeyong held out a Sig Sauer P938 to Mark. He would have given the kid a Glock 19 like his but the safety would go right over his head. This was better for him considering he probably knew nothing about guns.
Mark took it and took out the mag, thoughtlessly undid the slider, checked the barrel, and then put it all back together in a matter of seconds making sure to never point it carelessly and to check that the safety was still on. The youngest of the boys looked up to be met with not one, two looks of pure confusion and intrigue. “What?” Pure silence held onto the moment still. “Guns are more common in Canada. Used to go hunting. Cleaned dad’s guns for him as well.”
The shock sat with the other two for a moment before Taeyong smirked and patted Mark on the back. “Lucked out with you, kid. Anyways, the plan is that I’ll talk with them for as long as I can but Jackson and his crew is most likely gonna get real mad real fast with how I plan to handle things. The only reason I’m cool with this at the moment is the fact that it’s Just him and JB or now. Jinyoung gives me the fuckin’ creeps.” Ten exaggerated a shiver at the mention of the name. Jaehyun and Taeyong had told stories about the Got& members. They all collectively had the worst feeling about that man.
“Mark, Ten, if shit goes south fast you get out. You run back to the house and tell the other to be on their guard from now on. Understood?” Ten nodded without hesitation but Mark hesitated.
“What about you and Jaehyun?”
Taeyong took the hand he had left on Mark’s shoulder and gave him a small squeeze of reassurance. “We’re the last people you need to worry about. You’ll see later.”
They were just pulling up to the restaurant as Taeyong retreated his hand and looked at Mark, still holding the gun like he was probably trained to in order to get some kind of license for it, not like he was about to get into a possible shootout between families. Taeyong pulled out his own gun to show Mark what to do with it. Unlike Mark he had a concealed holster in the back of his waistband but it would still work. “Mark, like this.” He shoved the gun into the side of his waistband and then looked back up to him.
Mark laughed a bit and covered his mouth. “For real? This is some shit out of a movie. I swear to god…” He sighed out some nerves before checking the safety one last time and copying what Taeyong had shown him. This all was starting to feel rather surreal to him. How many sixteen year-olds had handguns?
All three of them let the cab as Taeyong thanked the driver by name with a smile. “Stay here. You know what to do.” And with that Mark and Ten were left outside.
Taeyong walked into the building with his game face on. Both trying to come off as charming and intimidating if possible. He prepared for the worst mentally but knowing Jackson anything could happen. “Afternoon sunshine! What’s all this about more issues popping up?” The words spilled out of his mouth with ample sarcasm and venom as he took a seat next to Jaehyun who was giving one of his worst glares yet to the two across from them. “We had agreed that Hann river is the line if this is once again a problem.”
“Ha, yeah right. You’ve been crossing the line with your fucking business all the time. I know Doyoung’s been over here quite often Yugyeom has seen him out and about.”
Taeyong found amusement in this statement. Doyoung’s family, what remained at least, lived in that area but Jackson wouldn’t care. “So what? We can’t leave at all? You’ve come here with JB and Jinyoung before so don’t try and pull that with me.”
The tension in the room grew thicker and thicker by the second. Jackson was leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head and keeping a firm gaze with Taeyong. Opposite him was Taeyong, arms crossed and slightly leaned over the table. JB and Jaehyun were of similar postures and expressions given the situation.
Jaehyun finally stepped into the conversation full force. “Look, we obviously can’t come to terms with each other and that’s not gonna change. Like hell we’re backing off.”
“Give us Yangcheon-Gu.” Jackson blurted out fully confident.
“No way in hell.” Taeyong rose to his feet and scrutinized Jackson from above. “I think we’re done here.” Jaehyun mimicked Taeyong’s actions before a laugh was heard from behind. The two both stopped in their tracks and with low-lidded eyes full of threatening hatred Taeyong looked back.
“Walk out that door and you're declaring war. I don’t think you and your itty bitty family can handle it. Neo Tech is still just a small street gang playing itself off as a real family when it isn’t.”
Long, lightning fast strides led Taeyong to whip out his gun and lean over the table smirking down at Jackson with the barrel to his temple. JB returned the favor in an instant while Jackson sat there with a look completely void of all emotion. Jaehyun from across the room had pulled his own gun on JB as well. “Don’t you ever talk down to us like that again.” He pressed a bit harder, nudging Jackson's head till his eyes finally met With Taeyong’s. He made it a point to push off hard when he backed away, forcing Jackson’s head to snap to the side before he centered it once again.
“You want a war?” He leaned in closer, till he was right above the fellow boss and gave him a tight lipped smile. “You got it.” With that he stormed out of the building with Jaehyun and Ten and Mark were quick to catch up. “We’ve got plenty of training to do boys.”
Author’s Note: Hiya! Just popin’ in to say I hope you’ve enjoyed if you read this far. :) Please let me know if longer parts would be better in the comments. around 5k is doable, I’d just like to know if that’s better or not. Anyways, have a good night/afternoon/morning!
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Two Sides of the Commonwealth
Brotherhood of Steel. Why the hell they came to the Commonwealth was a mystery to most of the populous, but Fallon was getting real tired of the vertibirds and constant clanging of power armor as he searched the wreckage.
It was stupid as all hell and getting really annoying.
Fallon kept seeing some... asshole in armor alot. Slick back blonde hair, chiseled jaw with a butt chin and angry eyes.
It was like he was stalking him or maybe he was patrolling the same area...
Clanking around like he owned the ruins, no one owned the ruins... well accept for maybe the mole rats and the mold.
But this Brotherhood jerk kept stomping around and pushing him away from the ruins and acting like there was something to hide in the old police station.
Fallon was getting tired of it.
And so he was gonna confront the guy and stop him from...stopping him.
Fallon stumbled around the wreckage, twisting the lead pipe in his hands, trying to see what was left that wasn’t taken by anyone else. Usually he was good at it, he knew what could be used for scrap.
He took note of the laser blasts in the wall, touching it with a gloved hand.
Laser weapons... dangerous things. And the BOS seemed to only use them. If that guy turned sour, Fallon knew he wouldn’t survive a blast. Hell he barely knew how to take care of a normal bullet hole but one that was singed and burned was... a different thing all together.
He began to hear the tell tale sign of the power armor’s hydraulics clambering around wreckage and crushing rubble under their feet.
Fallon rounded the corner, smiling as he saw that it was that grumpy soldier.
“Ah hey if it ain’t tall, blonde and loud as all shit. Still here?”
The blonde BOS soldier grumbled, adjusting the laser rifle in his hands.
“You... how dense are you that you can’t get ‘leave and don’t come back’“
“Ah you know... a man’s gotta eat and you know I just love that scowl.”
“I need you to leave, this is area is under-”
“Watch of the Brotherhood of Steel yeah I got it tattooed on my brain by now. I just wanted to ask uh.. why the hell have you been here for the last two weeks. Doesn’t the Brotherhood have something better to do or have you still not found whatever the hell your looking for? Cause listen I wanna check this place out and I need to eat.”
“That is classified information to civilians.” The man growled, beginning to walk away only to have Fallon follow behind him like a parasite.
“Then just... monitor me while I look around! Come on the tin can squad can’t fucking lock a place down how is that even fair? Whatever your looking for here can’t be that important it’s a run down police station! You have SO MUCH, let the little guys have something.” Fallon complained, grabbing the man’s arm only to be pushed away.
“You have no right to ask or grab me...” The man lifted his rifle, aiming it at Fallon.
“Why do you come back, do you want to get shot? What makes you think that I won’t shoot you, or are you just that stupid and suicidal?”
Fallon raised his eyebrows and backed up a bit, giving a bit of a smile.
“Well... uh... I meant i’ve done this how many times and you haven’t shot me yet despite my bullshit, so that either means that you don’t want to kill a civilian, you love me, or you’ve been told not to kill anyone. Either way I feel like im in the clear.”
The man looked over Fallon and lowered the rifle, closing his eyes and muttering something under his breath.
“Then I suppose if I can’t get rid of you I should just... monitor you. What’s your name scavenger?”
“Fallon Campbell.”
“Fallon... very well. You may address me as Paladin King.”
“KING. Holy shit is that your real last name or are you brotherhood of steel fuckers just that conceited!?” Fallon bellowed, grabbing his stomach and laughing hard as King’s nostril flared.
“It’s just my last name... and you’re already pushing your luck. Do you do this with other paladins or have you just run into me?”
“Eh it’s just kinda you in all honesty... I didn’t uh run into others, kinda scared of the others but there’s something about you. Probably the fact that you have those kind eyes. and restraint to not shoot me.”
Fallon stepped over a few broken desks and stared at the symbol on King’s power armor, frowning.
“Why the hell did you join those assholes? They’re just a bunch of bigots that probably love the smell of their own farts.”
“A real question behind the snark hm?” King muttered, looking around the place before exhaling loudly.
“It’s not as simple as it would seem. Didn’t use to be like that. In... honesty I don’t like the direction that the Brotherhood has taken, but I can’t do anything about it”
Fallon bent down and began to search through some drawers of a file cabinet, turning a bit and giving a chuckle.
“What you don’t like that guy in the sweet ass coat that looks like smoker’s lung incarnate. What’s his name... Max...Ma... Mason?”
“Elder Maxson.”
“Yeah him... not a fan?”
“Not... particularly. I was around before he came into power. Things were simpler back then. But now it seems like he’s... gone a bit mad with power. He has ... good intentions but the way he handles it, it’s wrong. Too controlling. Too... “
He trialed off, rolling his shoulders and looking away.
“Doesn’t saying this shit just put a bulls-eye on your head? You think you wouldn’t tell some ‘dirty scav’ but here you are, telling me some deep dark secrets. Next thing you know you’ll wanna talk about your troubled childhood.”
“I’m allowed to say my piece. I’ve been no stranger to that and i’ve taken the brunt of the blow for saying what I believe, specially around other members of the Brotherhood of Steel who lick the very ground Maxson walks on. I’m not scared of them. Someone needs to speak up instead of being a mindless drone. I didn’t come to be in the Brotherhood for what we’re doing right now. I came for protection and helping America, suppressing technology like nuclear developments.”
Fallon was quiet, shoving a few things into his bag and looking over at the Paladin.
He shifted the bag and stood up, walking over to him and beginning to walk, scratching the thin stubble on his face.
“Damn... why don’t you leave? You seem to not agree with alot of shit...why not leave?”
“Because I believe in the overall cause, and I believe that’ll get better. We just have the wrong man in charge. That and I owe it to the Brotherhood. Without them I’d be dead. So I feel like there’s a life debt I owe to them.”
“Life debt... ha... life debts are shit. No one here lives as long to fill out a life debt. Just live and pay what you can in the moment. You spend enough time on ground and not in that big blimp you realize how quick things go. You promise a girl you’ll be back a few days later with some gear and you find out that as soon as you left, she got mauled by ferals, children... they...”
Fallon cleared his throat and tightened his fists.
“You don’t live long is what I’ve learned. The fact that I wake up every day is a miracle to me. Just do what you can. So fuck the life debt. It’s a dog eat dog world baby, you either jump or you get pushed.”
The two walked in tandem for a while, chatting quietly about their thoughts.
It was weird but this tin can wasn’t as bad as he thought he was. Just seemed to be in a weird situation. Least he was nice enough to pick up some junk.
When he finally decided that enough was enough he began to head to the exit, giving a small smile at the Paladin.
“So... you still gonna be hanging around here tin man?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Good. Maybe i’ll see you around? Date night i’ll bring a few brews, you ever try Borov’s Moonshine, knocks you out. Be my treat I know the guy who makes it.”
He said, giving a grin as he backed up.
The paladin was a bit weirded out but paused, giving a small smile in return.
“...Fine. As long as you don’t do anything stupid I’ll... make an acceptation Fallon. Since I can’t get rid of you.”
Fallon bumped his fist in the air, laughing loudly
“Aw dude sweet, i’m pals with a Brotherhood of Steel Paladin!”
He fell against the door and stumbled out of the station, the paladin hearing a little clatter as he got back up and walked away.
Idiot. But it was nice to learn about civilians lives... more then some of the BOS would do. It was nice to bitch about Maxson too without getting side eyed.
Maybe it’ll be the start of a strange new friendship.
#fallon's tag#dom's tag#my ocs#some fallout au shit#yeah in the fallout au Dom is BOS but he fucking hates Maxson and was there before he was in power
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Metal as Fuck
Welcome to a Zombie Apocalypse AU where Keith is suspicious and Lance is too calm for his own damn good. Featuring gratuitous cursing on Lance’s part and mentions of MANY injuries on Keith’s. Also, the undead.
Stranger: ((Zombie AU.)) The past dreadful humid month of June, Keith has been doing well as he could, jumping from camp to camp he stumbled across trying to get to the so-called 'safe place' guarded by the military. It was really hard to survive out in the open, he was the only one who always got out without a scratch. That was untrue, a big amount of scratches. People got outrun fast, usually, too many walkers came by, made their situation worse with the loud shots of their guns. Or they ran out of supplies or got killed by others for their things. That's why he never got close to anyone. He didn't want to see anyone turn, be left behind again or betrayed. Keith used their supplies. Left after the sun rose. That simple. But it was hard. Being alone, only having the shitty walkers to keep him company. They always came running at him. Obviously happy to see a meal. It's been three whole days without food. Only a little bit of stream water he found during that time. Keith was weak, he was dragging his sword in the grass behind him as he stumbled over his own feet and little ridges on the forest floor. There was a cabin across the road, was way out of the forest. But walkers surrounded his path. He couldn't make it that far. He heard growling behind him, feet shuffling, lots of it. He huffed and stumbled around to face the noises. There were at least a dozen of walkers. Just wonderful. Using whatever strength he had left, he swung his sword around. Slicing off their heads in smooth cuts. Once the last one fell, Keith stumbled away from the bodies. At least trying to move on just a little. His body just couldn't. His legs gave out on him and he fell to the ground, landing in muddy grass. His breathing was shallow and his eyes could hardly stay open. Not having a choice as his body went limp, the walkers were gonna get him for sure.
You: Before the world had decided to go to shit, Lance had been sure he was going to follow in his parent's footsteps and end up in the military. He'd learned to shoot when he'd been old enough to walk, and he'd been excited for it ever since he could remember. After the world had ended, though, he'd given that up to guard his home. He hadn't heard from his parents in months, and it had been even longer since his older siblings had reached out to him. He didn't have any high hopes for their survival, if he was honest with himself, but he really, really hated being honest with himself. He'd grown up in this cabin, though, and damn it, if he was going to die at the hands of some of those undead fucks, he was going to do it here. But he hadn't died. Instead, he'd put his shooting practice to good use, and he'd managed to make it on his own, scavenging what he needed in the early hours of dawn whenever he got too low for comfort in supplies. The sun was high in the sky when the sound of a horde of walkers caught his attention, and the traps around the other side of the road started making noise a few seconds later. He swore and abandoned the two-way radio he'd been trying to fix for months, hiding it under the makeshift barricade at the back of the cabin and grabbing his gun. He clambered quietly to the top of the barricade and hopped out onto the roof, turning towards the horde and readying his gun to-- but he didn't shoot, because holy shit, there was blood on the dirt path and the walkers were nearly on him and Lance hadn't seen another live human in too long. He didn't even think as he slid off the roof, aiming for the walkers and taking them out, one by one. The thudding of bodies was a background to the sound of his own pulse beating in his ears as he rushed towards the injured party, scooping them easily and slinging an arm over his shoulder. He half-dragged, half-carried him back towards the cabin, ignoring the rustling of the walkers behind them, and didn't stop until they were safely inside again. He laid the prone form of the other human on his bed before hopping back up onto the roof and making quick work of the other walkers he hadn't yet shot at.
Stranger: Keith wasn't able to fight back from being suddenly picked up. He was pulled back to the cabin he actually spotted. Once he was on the bed he didn't hesitate to sleep. Well not only did he have no much choice but now walkers were trying to eat him. At least for now. Keith didn't even know how long time passed when he woke up. He slowly sat up from the bed and looked around. He was in a bedroom? Oh yeah, the cabin. A guy saved him, he didn't get a look at his face. Keith felt the bed around him for his sword, his eyebrows furrowing when he couldn't find it. He sat up completely, his eyes scanning the room for it. "What the..." He muttered, looking around. The fucker took his sword? He didn't even know if he was dangerous yet! He was unarmed, in these types people were just as dangerous as walkers. He quickly limped around the room to look for his sword. He climbed on the bed again and looked under it. Where'd he hide it? It had to be out of the room. Suddenly he heard the door open and Keith jumped. Nearly falling off the bed in the process. He glared at the male in the doorway. "Where's my sword?" He questioned.
You: Once he'd secured the area, Lance shut off the rooftop entrance and made sure the door was properly barred before heading in to deal with the stranger. He snagged his makeshift first aid kit on the way, and approached with caution, though he realised as he tugged a box over to sit on that he needn't have bothered. The other was out cold. He was pretty, in a rugged, post-apocalyptic type of way. And they were in a post-apocalyptic hell, so it made sense, he reasoned to himself wryly as he set about taking care of his injuries. Most of them were thankfully superficial, and after wrapping the last of the wounds, he picked up the sword that had clattered to the floor --a SWORD! Man, this guy was extra-- and let it lean against the wall outside the doorway to the room. It was hours before the guy woke; Lance checked on him every half or so to make sure he was still breathing. When he finally found him sitting up, Lance couldn't help a relieved, easy grin. "Woah, hey. Slow down there. You kinda had a nasty run-in with the walkers out there." He pointed just behind him, where the sword was visible against the wall. "Your weapon's there. Have you really been roaming with just a /sword/, dude? Because that's metal as fuck. Dangerous, but metal." He nodded appreciatively, leaning against the wall in an unconcerned manner, as though this was something that happened to him every other day.
Stranger: Keith raised a brow. "Nasty run in?? I've been 'running' into them for the past two weeks." He said, he didn't know why he was sharing that with him. But that's how long he's been out. At least so he knew. It was three days ago where he ran out of water and food. He looked behind the other and noticed his sword. Great, just great. "Yeah? No it's not. It doesn't attrack them. They come when there's sound. Especially gunshots." He explained. "It's faster and easier. If you know how to use it." He shrugged, plus he didn't know how to use a gun very well...other then bashing a walkers head in with it. But he'd keep that to himself. The guy was so relaxed though? It was odd. "I haven't eaten in three days. Do you have food?" He asked, looking into the others eyes. "I'll leave then." He said, he'd be out of his hair real soon.
You: "Seriously, man, calm down. I'm not going to shove you out on your ass. I doubt you'd make it, anyways." Lance looked the other up and down critically, frowning as he did. "You lost a lot of blood. You were asleep for hours, you know." The fact that he hadn't eaten anything in three days probably hadn't helped, either. Lance wasn't sure he'd ever seen anyone so pale that was still alive and breathing. "Just... chill, alright? I'm not going to hurt you. You're welcome to what I have so you can get back on your feet. I'll get you something to eat. You just..." Lance gestured widely, vaguely, towards the male and the bed. "Stay there and try not to fall over." He turned, heading into the other room and kneeling, rummaging around in one of the various crates that lined the inside of the main room. He tugged out a can, peered at it for a moment, and nodded once to himself before digging around once more. He came up with a second can and a tin pie plate and set about heating the beans he'd managed to scrounge up. "Here ya go," he said once he'd finally finished, walking back into the room and offering the tin to the stranger. "Not a five star meal, but it's food." The other can was still unopened, and contained some sort of mixed fruit. "I've even got dessert." He set the unopened can down on the messy table, perched precariously atop what seemed to be a stack of books. "I'm Lance, by the way. You got a name?"
Stranger: Keith frowned, yeah he'd make it. Most didn't want him to stay and really he didn't either for too long. Made him uneasy. He knew that part, he was banged up pretty bad. He ran out of supplies so he wasn't able to fix anything. He sorta just tried to forget about it so he wouldn't feel the pain. Didn't work too well. Keith looked at the other questionably. Since when was someone so nice? It was like pulling teeth with others for food, Keith had to do a lot to get where he was. People were stingy. Also he didn't entirely believe the guy, sure. Everyone said that, 'i won't hurt you' the next thing you know you're getting shot at. He watched him leave, looking down at his injures. He was all patched up, that was generous to waste his supplies on him. Keith was greatful. He watched him walk back in with food and he eyed it down. He didn't have to do anything for it? He was just handing it over? Keith took the beans. "Thank you.." He muttered and started eating. He groaned, fuck he hasn't eaten in forever. Tasted like heaven compared to constant belly aches from hunger. "Nice to meet you Lance." He mumbled. "It's Keith."
You: The guy... really hadn't eaten in a while. Wow. Lance felt bad for him, he really did. Before he'd realised that he needed to start scavenging, he'd rationed the food that he'd had before, and it... hadn't gone well. Hunger was a shitty, shitty feeling. He huffed softly in amusement at the mumbled introduction in between shovelled-in bites of food. "I'd say it's nice to meet you, but under the circumstances, nothing's ever really nice anymore." He shook his head, nudging the can of fruit. "Give it a few minutes once you finish that. If you eat too fast, your body'll reject everything and then you'll end up worse off." He knew from experience. It was nice to see colour returning to Keith's cheeks, though, even if it was only momentary. Lance had always been willing to help others, even though he'd been threatened in his own home because of it more times than he wanted to admit. It was fine. Everyone did what they had to in order to survive; Lance was more than willing to part with some of his supplies if it meant that someone else lived another day. He had backups and reserves; some people weren't so lucky. Lots of people weren't so lucky.
Stranger: Keith nodded. He used to think that too. A lot up until now, Lance saved his life and he hasn't punched him yet. Honestly a wonderful sign, he was a good person. So far. "Well in this moment it is. Saved my ass and you're not a prick." He said bluntly, he was quick to finish off eating. He didn't know that but he listened anyway, just sitting back. It made sense, that was the only reason why he was listening. Not saying fuck you and doing what he wanted. Keith was still wary of Lance. He would till he left. Keith saved people when he was out, when they were being attacked. But that would be the end of it, once they were safe he'd run off before they started asking him questions. But his journey to the safe place would be worth it. They apparently had working showers, no more washing off in the lake. He almost moaned at the thought, they had air conditioning. The place was a luctury. You got your own rooms, seperated. It was really too good to be true. It was safe. Well as safe as it could get out here.
You: There wasn't much Lance could say to argue with that, so he didn't. Instead, he found himself watching quietly as Keith ate, his gaze roaming curiously over the lithe form of this stranger who'd ended up --almost quite literally-- on his doorstep. He really was stupidly pretty, even with the various bandages and half-healed bruises covering most of his visible skin. His hair was long, a style that Lance would have labelled as a mullet, had he not been aware that it probably just wasn't possible for Keith to cut his hair with anything other than his sword. (And THAT was dangerous, even if it would be even more metal than just /having/ the sword in the first place.) "You just a roamer, then?" he asked curiously, finally breaking the silence between them, which had been broken previously only by the quiet scraping of Keith's plastic spoon against the tin plate. "Or you headed somewhere specific?"
Stranger: Keith didn't notice Lance staring at him. He was busy eating really, if he didn't take supplies with him it'd be a bit till he stumbled across something. He looked up when Lance spoke again. His head tilted to the side, that was a thing? "I guess so." He responded with a shrug. "I'm going to the 'safe place'. I'm not too far off now. It's run by military. They have everything there. Most camps that i crashed at talked about it." He explained, finishing off the fruit. The juice was nice and the stream water taste was finally gone. He would say Lance could even come with him. But he wasn't sure how well that would go, Keith wasn't the best with traveling with others. He was a loner, did things his way. He didn't like following orders and would laugh at anyone who told him what to do.
You: That made sense. Lance had heard about the safe place; he'd had several people pass by that were headed that way, although none had been within the last few weeks. It gave him a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, although he hoped that it was just paranoia and not a premonition that something had really gone wrong. It was easy to be paranoid, these days. Lance nodded slowly, taking the can from Keith once he'd finished off the fruit and the juice inside. "You won't make it if you don't have anything on you," he noted, almost absently, in observation. He checked the can and then, satisfied that Keith had finished the contents completely, stood up, leaving the room momentarily to add it to a pile in a crate separate from the one that had held the food. He would add it to the traps at the edge of the property whenever there was a quiet moment, after Keith had gone. He picked up Keith's sword by the hilt as he walked back into the room, and --very aware of Keith's gaze snapping onto him-- offered it out to him. "I wasn't lying to you. I'm not gonna hurt you. I could've left you to the walkers if I didn't want to deal with you," he pointed out.
Stranger: Keith already knew he wouldn't, why was he telling him that? It was the obvious. What was he getting at?? He watched Lance leave with the cans, but he quickly noticed him grabbing his sword. Keith was panicking a bit. Was he gonna use it against him? Fuck he shouldn't have let his guard down a bit. He raised a brow when his sword was held out to him. He hesitantly took it back, hugging it to his chest defensively. "..Most say that. But they turn on you." He said cautiously. It was stupid of him to give it back. So if Lance tried anything Keith was armed and no way Lance had a chance. Even though he wouldn't it was also stupid because Keith could take everything he owns. Turning on him instead. Restraining him or putting his sword in his face. Or kick him out.
You: Keith was around his age. He had to be. Lance hadn't really figured it out until the moment that Keith hugged at the sword protectively, but... they couldn't have been that far off. And it was weird, because Lance didn't usually get a lot of people his age. There had been that sibling pair, but one had been older and one had been younger. The little sister had tried to help him work on the radio when they'd gotten caught around the cabin during the night. Everyone else was usually older than he was. It was bizarre, but Lance found himself almost wishing that the stranger would just /relax/ so that maybe, just maybe, things could seem like they were normal again, just once. He did laugh at the statement, though, an amused chuckling that he couldn't quell in time. "Yeah, I've been there. You have no idea how many people I've pulled in, just to have them steal a bunch of shit and run." He shook his head. "I'm not going to turn on you, though, Keith. I'm just trying to survive, same as you." He glanced around the room, noting the slowly lengthening shadows on the wall. "Unless you have a camp that you're trying to make tonight, you shouldn't head out until dawn. I've got a couple extra cans you can take with you. Probably just fruit, but it's better than nothing. If you want to stay the night, the bed's yours."
Stranger: Keith stared at Lance. They were the same age. Probably. He met tons of people at camps, little kids, old people, middle aged..Everything age really. But that was him assuming, he wasn't the most social person. He didn't need to get involved with people. But Lance was pretty different than the rest. He actually really liked helping people. He wasn't gonna let his guard down though. When he got a better look at Lance, his skin was really pretty. He had freckles on his cheeks when you really stared. His eyes were just...really really nice to look at. Keith nodded. He didn't believe it entirely but half of him did. "I have no camp to head to." He admitted. "Where are you sleeping? I'll take there instead, it's your house Lance." He said, standing up. It wasn't as easy considering how fucked up his leg was. He almost feel over. It was bruised, really everything in the book. Keith smiled, just a little. "But really thank you Lance."
You: Lance immediately stepped forward when Keith stood. He placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, both to keep him from going any further and to steady him, since he'd begun wobbling almost immediately. "You probably won't have the option of sleeping in a bed tomorrow night, wherever you end up," he pointed out, voice soft. "Don't fight me on this? I'll still have this place tomorrow, provided that the walkers don't suddenly gain any more sentience and burn it down. Besides, it's not the softest thing in the world, but it'll be better for your injuries if you've got something between you and the floor. Trust me." He nudged his shoulder gently, obviously intending to get him to take the bed, no matter what protestation he might come up with.
Stranger: Keith flinched when he felt Lance's hand on his shoulder. He didn't shove him away which was shocking for himself. He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Fine. But they won't burn it down. They're a virus. Aren't smart enough for that." He said cockily. He moved back to the bed, laying down on his stomach. "You know, the safe place is for everyone. You could travel there with me. It'd be worth it. Plus it'd be like paying you back for this. I don't like owing people things." He wasn't even sure why he was suggesting it. But he did save his life. Plus if he became trouble he could just walk away. Literally.
You: "You don't owe me anything," Lance stated simply. He'd rolled his eyes at the comment about the virus; he knew what they were, alright. He'd just been /trying/ to make a point. "I didn't have to help you. I wanted to." He gazed at Keith's now-stretched out form for another moment before blinking himself out of whatever reverie his brain had been trying to kick start. "This is my home. I made the decision to protect it when the rest of my family left, when everything started. I appreciate the offer, but... this is where I belong." This was /his/ safe place. He wasn't about to give that up, especially when he didn't even know if the mythical safe place that the military supposedly ran even existed. "You should get some sleep. I'll get a pack together for you; you can just take it tomorrow morning, if I'm not around."
Stranger: Keith didn't want to admit that he was disappointed of him saying no. It was reasonable. He was better by himself anyways. Lance was at home. He turned to his side, his back to Lance. He still had his sword by his feet for easy access. "Right. I will. Night." He said simply, cutting the conversation short. He wanted to sleep to get rid of his weird feeling. He shouldn't be so upset about something so silly.
You: "G'night, Keith." Lance's voice was soft again as he shut the door once more, the way it had been when he'd allowed Keith to sleep before. He busied himself with getting a pack together for Keith, once he was certain that the other was asleep. Or, at the very least, when he was certain that Keith wasn't going to get up and try to argue with him again about who should take the bed. He emptied one of the backpacks he'd found on a fairly recent scavenging trip. It wasn't too bad off, considering that he'd found it in the middle of nowhere. Some poor sap had probably gotten ambushed by walkers and either left it behind, or... well, Lance didn't like to think about the alternative too much. That was how it usually went, though. He packed a few cans of fruit, a box of crackers, a thermos that was half-full of water. He added some bandages and a blanket before setting the pack outside of the door to the room Keith was sleeping in, and then curled up with another spare blanket on the floor of the main room, falling into a light sleep, one that he would be awakened from in an instant, were his alarm system around the property or the path to start jingling.
Stranger: Even before everything went down, Keith was a very light sleeper. But now, if even a pin dropped he'd wake up. He heard the commotion through the door in the other room. When it silenced Keith eyes shut and he fell asleep. It was still dark in the room when he woke up and rolled over. He was almost out again when he heard this annoying racket. What the fuck was that? Keith instantly got up and he grabbed his sword. He opened the door, Lance was still asleep? On the floor too? Okay, that made him feel bad. But he followed the noise, it was coming from the front door. Once he got closer, squinting his eyes in the dark. It was walkers clawing at the door. Nothing too concerning till he looked out the boarded window, through an area of wood. Outside was infested with walkers! Okay, shit. Fuck. Keith cursed loudly and limp ran over to Lance, shaking his shoulder. "Lance, Lance wake up. There's a bunch of walkers outside. I don't know if it's secure enough to hold off that many." He said, continuing to try and wake up the other.
You: It wasn't like Lance to sleep soundly. He hadn't slept soundly in... he couldn't even remember how long. But the excitement of the day, the extra body in the house... Lance fell asleep, and he was /dreaming/, and it was so nice, and even the sound of his alarm system (with the cans rattling and the sound of the walkers dragging their rotting bodies to the door) didn't wake him. He did, however, awaken to someone roughly shaking his shoulder. He shot up, disoriented and confused, and found himself speaking Spanish for several seconds before his brain caught up with his mouth. "Es no-- Fuck." He cut himself off mid-ramble and shot up, lunging for his gun on the table across the room. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he swore, attempting to control his breathing. He could deal with this. He had someone else here. They could deal with this. He turned to Keith, his eyes wide. "I'm going up there," he said, pointing to the roof. "I'll take care of as many as I can. They already seem to know we're here, so there's no point in being quiet, sword-boy," he added, sensing an argument. "I hope you can use that, though, because as soon as I start shooting, I need you to open the door and start swinging. Got it?" Lance was already working on the barricade, climbing up and tugging on the bar that opened to the roof.
Stranger: Keith flinched back when Lance shot awake, speaking in Spanish. Okay, fuck that was hot but aside from that. He had no idea what he was saying, but before he asked for english Lance changed to english. He nodded, understanding. He raised a brow and snorted at the nickname. That was new. "Of course i can. Yeah, got it." He said, watching Lance climb up to the roof. He walked over to the door, adrenaline already kicking in. He heard his heartbeat in his ears. Keith listened carefully for gunshots. When he heard a few rounds, he unlocked the door and swung it open. Walkers started trying to grab at him. Easily he stabbed the first three in the chests, going straight through the three at once. He slammed the door behind him and started fighting them off from the house. Chopping off their heads in alarming speeds. He made it look so easy. He kept close to the door, he was too weak still to get out there, even with Lance covering.
You: Shit, there were a lot of walkers out there. Lance hadn't seen this many in a horde for weeks. Hordes were fucking ridiculous; they kept coming and coming, and once you started shooting, they only came faster. Lance hadn't been nicknamed "Sharpshooter" by his dad for nothing, though, back in the day. He rarely missed a shot, and even in the dark, tonight was no exception. By nothing more than the light of the moon and stars above them, Lance shot, and he kept shooting, keeping a steady eye trained on the approaching walkers, trusting Keith to take care of the ones that had already reached the front of the house. It seemed like forever before he began to notice a break in the horde, that there were less walkers upright than not. There was light beginning to show just over the peak of the horizon, and Lance was already fucking exhausted. So much for that restful sleep he'd just had. By the time the sun had risen, the horde had been disposed of, and Lance took one more critical look around from his position on top of the house before climbing back down the barricade and looking for Keith.
#metal as fuck#klance#klance rp#klance roleplay#voltron#voltron roleplay#vld rp#my rp#rp#roleplay#fandom rp#fandom roleplay#omegling#omegle rp#omegle roleplay#zombie apocalypse#injury//#zombies//#cursing//#my roleplay#gay space lions
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The Raven King, Chapter 4 – Andrew Does Shit No One Expects Him To, Pt. 2
In which Orange Sportsball finally starts to form into something resembling teamwork, the Foxes drag Neil for “I’m fine”, I suggest a quality mascot design, and Neil pulls some sweet stunts, only to be dramatically and jaw-droppingly out-stunted by Andrew ‘Extra’ Minyard.
Sounds good? Then it’s time for Nicki to read The Raven King.
GUESS WHO’S FCKNG BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I have risen from the ashes of my shattered laptop, finally ready to once again bring you the foxy shitpost content you love and deserve. I’m writing this from a Dell brick that probably came out while I was still in elementary school and weighs as much as a small child, but I don’t care. It has a keyboard and a screen and Microsoft Word, and that’s all that matters.
Back not with a fizzle, but with a bang: I bring you an event filled with drama, shade and Extra, brimming with excitement and recklessness –
The first actually epic Exy game of this series: Palmetto State vs Belmonte University.
(This is a tad longer to make up for lost time, so strap yourselves in.)
They were driving back after the game instead of checking into a hotel for the night. (…) They could have just hired a driver like most schools did, but Wymack was almost as leery of dealing with outsiders as his Foxes were. It was apparently better to be uncomfortable but safe than to trust a stranger with his fractured team.
This is ya friendly reminder that Wymack is a badass protective mother hen and deserves everything good in this world. My dude :’)))))))))) #dicksoutforwymack
They stopped for gas and a bathroom break, stopped again for a quick dinner, and crossed a time zone on their way to Nashville.
And this is ya friendly reminder that American is large as hell. DIFFERENT TIMEZONES. IN THE SAME COUNTRY. How is this a real place.
They arrive at the stadium and Neil is once again faced with his worst enemy (besides new clothes):
Communal showers.
The only reason the Foxes had private stalls on the men’s room was because Wymack specifically commissioned them. Neil forcibly focused back on the task at hand. First he had to survive the game, then he could worry about the showers.
I initially wanted to make fun of the fact that this is a real sentence, but actually I kind of understand what it’s like to not want to show parts of your body to everyone, so. He gets a pass.
Also, the idea of trans!Neil just does not leave my head. I want a billion pieces of fanart/fanfic now.
It’s almost game time!
Neil didn’t see the Vixens, the Foxes’ all-girls cheerleading squad, or their mascot Rocky Foxy.
The have a fucking mascot??? Oh my actual God. What is it, an oversized Fox? Complete with a jersey, a black eye and a big FUCK YOU spelled on its forehead to match the team?
Why have we never heard of this before, this is the best thing ever.
[Belmonte’s Terrapin mascot] stopped a safe distance back from their benches to make a couple crude thrusts at them. Nicky was happy to return it until Wymack swatted him upside his head.
Oh Nicky, never change. <3
Kevin pulled one of his racquets free, fingered the strings like they might have come loose on the drive, and went over to the court walls. He didn’t spare the crowd a single look; all he cared about was right in front of him.
And if you look to your left, you’ll see Kevin being his usual Exy-obsessed, stoic and mighty self.
Also ahehehehe… Fingered. Hi, I’m 12.
As they are getting ready, Neil gets some sweet advice from Kevin – basically, only do boring ass gameplay until the second half and then go so hard you and I both bust a nut, also Andrew should realistically collapse field from withdrawal but he’ll probably hold up through sheer ego alone.
Sounds legit and like there could be nothing going wrong with it, at all.
We also briefly meet Katelyn, Aaron’s crush and – as I’m guessing – probably his date for the banquet thingy they’ve got coming up soon.
(You think I forgot about that, didn’t you. I never forget about opportunities for Fox banter, dress-up and hilarious social situations.)
However it’s not entirely a fun encounter as it’s time for another episode of our popular show What The Actual Fuck, Andrew?:
“Oh.” Andrew slapped his fist into his palm as if the answer had just occurred to him. He flashed Matt a wicked grin but answered in German. “Maybe he’s afraid she’ll die on him like the last woman he really loved.”
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, ANDREW. Also, what the actual fuck, backstory. I need it now.
No time to ponder on it, it’s game time, fuckers!
We’re kicking things off a bit unusual – literally:
Neil listened for a serve that didn’t come. For a second he was afraid Allison would lock up and refuse to move. He was halfway to Herrera before he heard the distinctive thump of a ball against Andrew’s oversized racquet. Allison had served it back to him, and Andrew smashed it up the court toward the strikers.
Have I mentioned how much I love functioning teamwork amongst my children? Because fuck, yeah.
Have I mentioned what I also love? Some good ass Kevin/Neil Exy action.
The only bright point was realizing his lessons with Kevin were paying off. (…) Passing wasn’t what Neil wanted to do in this game, but he could already see how he was improving. His shots were harder and more accurate, and it took him less time to figure out where to throw.
My beb :) improving :) being taught by Kevin because Kevin sees the heaps of potential in this boy and wants to make him the best he can :) I’m fine :)
Wymack (…) send out his substitutes. Neil wasn’t between Kevin and the door, but Kevin detoured past him anyway on his way out.
“Destroy him”, he said.
Neil felt like he’d been waiting for this all his life. “Yeah.”
Fuck yEAH :’)))))))))))
(Again, reminding you all that I am passionate multishipper who gets into p much any ship if dynamics present themselves unto her, unless they are super problematic. If I make any comments about ships you don’t like – cool, we all have our own tastes but please don’t send me rude comments about it.)
From that point on, my friends, the game finally catches me and holds my attention way more than the first game did. It’s on, you guys. Passes are flying left and right and our faves are working together, I really cannot stress enough how much I love functioning teamwork.
And then, of course, Neil pulls This Shit™:
He knew Herrera was right behind him for a body check. If he got crushed between the wall and Herrera, he’d lose the ball in the fight. Neil caught the ball right off the wall but didn’t try to protect it. Instead, he gave the butt of his racquet a hard pop with one fist. It sent the ball flying straight up out of the net. He dropped to his knees in the same breath.
He almost wasn’t fast enough. Herrera crashed into him at full speed a half-second later, but Neil wasn’t where Herrera was expecting him to be. He tripped over Neil’s body and (…) crashed into the wall head-first. (…)
Neil scooped the ball up and took off for goal. (…) He looked only at the goalkeeper and knew he was going to score. He put all of his first-half frustration behind his swing. The goalkeeper swatted at it and missed. The wall lit up red to confirm the point.
FFFUCKKK YEAHHH. This is the most badass shit he’s done since The Talk Show Incident™ (although nothing tops that ofc) and I am way proud of my son.
Also, Neil dealt with that backliner how I deal with my responsibilities: Letting them come at me full-speed and then swiftly ducking out of their reach.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Not before long, the first half is over and they’re at an even score! Amazing, wonderful, 100/10 proud mama right here.
Neil couldn’t feel his feet, but he assumed they were down there somewhere. The shoulder he’d hurt in the first half was still throbbing thanks to the well-aimed blows of his new backliner mark.
What a fucking asshole move. Oh, you’re already injured there? Let me hit you a couple extra times, just for good measure, just to really fuck you up.
Remember that thing about Andrew staying off his meds, and how it’s going totally well? Yeah.
Andrew stood a silent stone in their midst, looking a thousand miles away from all of this. He was a vacuum his teammates rowdy cheer couldn’t touch.
“Stop it.” (…)
Andrew slid a bored look Neil’s way. “I’m not doing anything.”
“Exactly,” Neil wanted to say, but he knew it was a senseless argument. He didn’t have the right words for that gnawing feeling in his stomach.
Ah yes :)))
Wymack shows up and scolds them for not pushing harder earlier, yadda yadda, team talk. And then, I present to you the genuinely funniest thing to happen this chapter:
Abby came to Neil last and stayed with him, feeling the line of his shoulder armour through his jersey. “How are you doing?” (…)
“I’m fine.”
Nicky fist-pumped in triumph. “Thank you for being so predictable, Neil. You just scored me ten bucks with two words.”
Matt look up. “Are you serious? Who the hell bet against you?”
Nicky jerked a thumb at Kevin. “There’s a sucker born every minute.”
I am hOWLING. I cannot believe they bet on his “I’m fine” oh my god this is the bEST.
DRAG. HIM.
The running gag of Neil “I’m fine” Josten will never not make my day. Neither will the Foxes’ obsession with betting on everything. I LOVE IT.
Kevin, never able to be anything but serious, drags him even more, but not in a fun way:
“You’re an idiot. Do you see this?” he brandished his left hand at Neil. (…) “Injuries are not a joke. They are not something to gloss over. (…) If you ever say ‘I’m fine’ about your health again, I will make you rue the day you were born.”
Yikes.
Abby eyed Neil. “I’ll ask again, then. Are you okay?”
“I’m –“ It was too automatic a response. (…) “It’s just sore. So long as I can keep my mark off my right side I’ll be – okay.”
Matt laughed at the near-miss. “I don’t see this experiment ending well, Neil.”
“Some people are just hardwired to be stupid,” Wymack said.
I’m literally loving every single thing about this.
Fun times over, they go back on the field for second half, where Neil sits out on the sidelines at first and uses this opportunity to talk about his favourite subject: Andrew.
“Why does Andrew do this?” Neil asked, unable to stay quiet any longer. “If he doesn’t care about Exy, what’s the point of going through this every Friday?”
“Would you want to be crazy high every day of your life?” Matt asked.
No, but in my opinion, that still doesn’t add up. He could have probably picked any day to go meds-free, Wymack would have taken him anyways – I don’t know, pick every Sunday or every Monday or every Wednesday after lunch, it doesn’t matter. Why Exy?
The only logical reason to pick Exy days over other days is the possibility that – shocking! – Andrew does care about this dumb sport after all.
Excited for the final explanation of this. I have a hunch there’s still more to it.
In other news – my feelings:
The Foxes were notorious for their shoddy teamwork, so most people forgot they were a Class I school. (…) If the Foxes could get over their differences and learn to compromise every once in a while, they’d be a formidable force. (…)
Neil wanted to be part of this evolution. He wanted to feel the team click into perfect synchrony, even if it lasted only a moment.
Give me all that good teamwork, and give it to me now.
The Terrapins came as hard as they could, but the Foxes shoved back with a ferocity the home team wasn’t expecting. They were exhausted, but Matt rallied the defense around him and Neil had permission to run himself ragged on the offense. (…) Every minute on the court brought him one minute closer to saying goodbye to Exy forever. He didn’t want to miss a single second.
As always, angst is the best motivator.
They’re all getting fired up and playing their hearts out when we near the most dramatic part of the game – the Foxes in the lead by one point, sixty seconds left on the clock. And then –
Eight seconds from the end a terrapin striker got the ball. Aaron ran after him, but he was too exhausted to close the gap. The striker’s ten steps took him all the way to the foul line for his shot.
Oh shit.
The goal was too wide and Andrew too small; there was no way Andrew could stop a shot this close-range. (…) Even if Andrew could get there fast enough, the ball was too low to the ground for him to swing his massive racquet.
Oh. Shit.
Except Andrew was moving before the striker finished taking his shot, as if he already knew where the striker was going to aim, and he didn’t even try to swing. He threw himself at the ground as far over as he could and slammed his racquet down between the ball and the goals so hard Neil heard wood crack all the way across the court. He was just fast enough; the ball hit the taut strings of his racquet and bounced off.
OH SHITTTTTTTTT!!!!! BOI!!!!!! THE FUCK!!!!!! IM YELLING!!!!
This is exactly the sort of Extra and Dramatic Shit™ I was missing.
HOLY SHIT, WHAT A SAVE.
And with that, the game is over, FUCK YEAH.
Andrew, of course, is now completely done.
Kevin didn’t have to ask what was going on. He’d lied to cameras for years and knew how to buy Andrew time. (…)
Andrew let go with one hand and gestured. Kevin gestured back as if having an actual conversation. The only sound either of them made was the desperate gasp of air through clenched teeth as Andrew tried not to get sick in front of the crowd.
Cool move, actually. They seem to have done this before? I continue being beyond intrigued by their dynamic.
The rest of the team fell in around them, bringing the celebration to their strikers and forming an impromptu barricade around their fallen goalkeeper.
Team <333
Protect that smol sick bastard, he just saved all your asses.
They get Andrew off the court safely, and with that, it’s good things all around.
Neil had never seen Wymack smile like this. It was small but fierce, as angry as it was proud. “That’s more like it. Draw sticks and figure out who’s helping me fend off the press. The rest of you get your sticky, stinky asses to the showers.”
What a DAD. Love him.
“Renee and I will handle it,” Dan said as they headed to the locker room. “Neil, you can use the girls’ showers while we’re busy.”
Neil stared at her. “What?”
Dan frowned at him, so Matt explained. “There aren’t stalls here.”
LET ME FUCKING LOVE YOU. I cannot get over this move, what the hell, that is so sweet.
Foxes being there for each other :’) I’m fine :’)))))))))))))
Neil had noticed, but he hadn’t thought his teammates would. That they had, and that they were doing something about it, knocked the wind out of him. He tried to answer, but he didn’t know what to say. The best he managed was, “Is that really okay?”
“Kid, you’re killing me,” Nicky said. “Why do you always get that deer-in-the-headlights look when someone does something nice for you?”
Yet another installment in our popular series Neil Doesn’t Realize People Actually Care About Him, episode 4 of a billion!
Before we finally leave this long-ass trip of a chapter, Andrew briefly joins Wymack, Andrew, and Andrew’s new best friend Johnnie Walker Blue for a chat:
“Why did you pay for stalls, Coach?”
Wymack lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Maybe I knew you’d need them one day.”
Andrew smiled around the mouth of his bottle. “Neil is a walking tragedy.”
“You’re a pretty pathetic sob story yourself,” Wymack said.
Smol beans :’) bonding over how fucked up they are :’) love em.
Also #dicksoutforwymack, all day, every day. Maybe I knew you’d need them one day, holy shit, please have my platonic babies.
Andrew headed for the door, but Neil put a hand in his path. “How did you do it? How did you know where to go?”
“Coach said Watts always takes his penalty shots to the bottom corner. With the game riding on him he was bound to do the same.”
Neil stared at him, startled and disbelieving. (…) It’d been an off-the-cuff remark amidst a lot of other information. Neil hadn’t thought Andrew was even paying attention to Wymack’s spiel.
Well, my dude, seems like someone gives more fucks than we all were starting to think. OF FUCKING COURSE. I’m still grinning my face off writing this.
And with that, they’re off, back on the bus home, and we’re letting this chapter ring out but some good ol’ Neil “Oh shit, what’s this, good feelings, get them away from me” Josten.
As he listened to them, Neil realized he was happy. It was such an unexpected and unfamiliar feeling that he lost track of the conversation for a minute. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this included or safe. It was nice but dangerous.
Someone with a past like his, whose very survival depended on secrecy and lies, couldn’t afford to let his guard down. But as Nicky laughed and leaned closer to talk about one of Neil’s goals, Neil thought maybe he’d be okay for just one night.
:’))))))))))))))))))))))))))
Nicki out.
If you like what I do here and you want to help me continue writing, please consider buying me a coffee (or two)! Thank you so much <3
#trk#the raven king#aftg#all for the game#nora sakavic#nicki reads tfc#dicksoutforwymack#GUESS WHOS BACK BACK AGAIN#I MISSED YALL WHAT IS UP
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