( ⁵ ) ––– IRA.

there’s demons in every crevice of this ship, waiting  &  lurking for their moment to strike. he’s already surprised he hasn’t stumbled across another grotesque sights, guts spilled amongst his feet as blood seeped itself further into the floorboards. a sight so sickening, one would’ve screamed right on the spot; he’s getting used to it. he stayed quiet as he wandered back to the cafeteria, hitting the emergency button as he calmed told everyone of the body’s location.  no suspects, no one outside react   —   is this a fucking joke, guys?  it’s gotten easier to tell the others not to bother him, keeping his distance as he darts to the opposite side of the ship to avoid them  —  he can only surmise there’s more crew-mates onboard than imposters, but it doesn’t help the growing rotten feeling inside his stomach. if they won’t kill him, it’ll be himself from the paranoia. he’s growing more accustomed to that reality, than the former choice. 

gouging his paranoia out of his veins, he manages to force a chuckle as he nods. a buddy-system is ideal in times like these, but also offers an opportune moment to strike  &  slide a knife right into his back. larvae is burrowed deep amongst some of the crew-mates, angry  &  red, ready to be released as if they’re toxins to poison you all.   ❝   tell me about it.  i keep wanting to go back to the cafeteria, to be safe.   ❞   he confesses, eyes rolling behind the transparent slit on his helmet. an expression of indifference is plastered across his face, one he hopes masquerades the panic currently soaring throughout his body. his heart tells him to run: run for your life, rookie, don’t turn back. but his head tells him his job isn’t done: finish your tasks, rookie; suck it up. this is not how i expected my first day to be going. 

sliding past her, he begins his trek inside the dark electrical room, head craning back at his fellow crew-mate.   ❝   if you wanna’ stay for a minute, cool. i’d appreciate it. just don’t  …  kill me or eat me, you know?   ❞   it’s an attempt of a joke, but it comes out more sinister in his heart than anticipated. it’s a harsh reality to swallow, but it’s reality. no dream, nothing he can hide from   —   it’s up to all of them to figure this out; no one is coming to save us.   immediately upon entering the room, he sees the sparks flying from the cut wires, his features scrunching in trepidation as he approaches. beginning to reconnect them, he decides to make small talk.   

❝   you got any idea who the imposters might be?    ❞

uncertain and apprehensive: wild.   it catches in her throat,  mulling around in her mouth.   (  ..   what do you miss about earth?  the sound of cattle, the rich fields — actual food).   reminding how her body is no longer hers but belonging to a conglomerate that wants them to wander in the dark whilst an imposter walks among them.          ❛    fair enough;  who am i to judge?   it’s awful,  isn’t it?  the ominous feeling of watching and waiting..  knowing  it  is lurking somewhere:  layering on a façade as one of us.   biding it’s time until it sinks its teeth into someone.    ❜

❛    pinkie swear i won’t.    even if i could,  i wouldn’t.   you’re the only remotely tolerable person on this godforsaken ship.    ❜          it feels like the air is haunted with it,  everything set with immolation and half out of her mind with isolation sickness.   there’s something still rotting awkwardly,  lodged between her forth and fifth ribs/rotting just ever so slightly.   cyan asked how she was feeling earlier and i’ve been feeling a little down.   i think i miss the grass.   she is a lost body in the world,  loveliest of sweet throats and the safety of solitude passing every day as isolation sets in again and again.   being alone becomes less of a comfort and more desperately ominous as the numbers dwindle down.   and then there was six,  someone had said over the corpse of green.   she had been too busy holding back bile to comment.   flights of fancy and the rumble of the ship,  creaking and groaning with each ghastly moment.   feels like they’re all drunk of melancholy and waiting,  the sparks catching the edge of her eye & a ghost of cold air blasting her clammy skin.

i hate this fucking place i hate this fucking place —  harsh phases of some missed moon,  starless dusk surrounding them like an endless abyss..  never-fucking-ending death of the universe as they die alone in this ship.

uncertain and apprehensive: wild.   it catches in her throat,  mulling around in her mouth.   there’s something loving about the warmth in the room,  what lies between them.   sweet as a peach,  dying right here in the kitchen.   the soft sound of shaking hearts and the warm quiet ghost of her breath.   a genuine sense of love and human solidarity.   citrus filled kitchen,  something very sweet in the back of her mouth.          ❛    ..   i love you but you absolutely stink.    ❜          cheeks flushed pink from the heat,  drunk with optimism — rose-coloured glasses and sanguine skin.

his face encased in her hands,  days like flowers.   smile glowing,  dripping down like honey and the curl of her lips into a grin.   it’s a roast — some once a month sunday traditional bullshit.   a little rosy,  tongue of dawn and the early evening sun pouring into the window with a glowing glare.   the soft scrunch of her nose and vast stretches of sky behind them,  thick curls of orange and pink hues painting it.   the world isn’t wide enough for everyone to be happy and she’s grateful for even the smidge,  the fucking crumbs she’s gotten.   all those sleepless nights into one single second.   into a cottage that has a window that needs to be repaired,  a dusty red barn and a dozen animals or so.   what if we joined out wilderness together?   how close has the sun come now,  she’d once whispered with a laugh.

@5thcomplex​

out here in the vastness of space, every movement matters; every twist, every turn, every stride   —   it all matters now. every second wasted is another second where they move among you, waiting for the moment to strike  &  leave your body scattered across the ivory floor. when the alarm rang throughout the ship, his heart sank; the second killing so far. a body found in med-bay, a lime green spacesuit covered in dripping carmine ichor, a single gunshot wound to the skull, no suspects   —   fuck. an imposter is among us: who will survive the massacre? in his pocket, tasks have hastily been scribbled across, readable to his eyes only as he continues through the spaceship. the ship is turning into a slaughterhouse, blood spilling across the floor  &  painting everyone on board.  what if you’re next?  it’s a feeling lingering inside your gut, threatening to claw its way out like a monster. it’s eating him from the inside out, the trepidation radiating off of him like sun beams. 

with every step, a twist of his head in every corner; the lights are dimmed, he hasn’t seen anyone in minutes.   [he’s beginning to lose track of time. seconds turn into minutes, minutes into hours   —   it’s becoming an unending eternity of misery.]   electrical is written in yellow on the right-side of the wall, a deep breath being taken from inside his cobalt-colored spacesuit. rpd is boldly written across the back, the only reminder of his life back on earth   —   a rookie assigned with a mission. definitely not the mission he was anticipating. with another five steps, a white spacesuit comes into his view up ahead near electrical; there’s a palpable excitement when he sees the person, but then he remembers: there’s a killer on the loose. they might be it.   

as he gets closer, he notices the strands of flaxen - colored hair peeking underneath the helmet.   ❝   liz?   ❞   she’s the only blonde on board that leon remembers boarding. he steps closer, cautiously, brows knitting together under his helmet. at the doorway, he swallows the urge to run back to the cafeteria  &  emergency meeting.  [for no reason whatsoever. doing so would only hurt him in the long run anyways; it’d make him seem suspicious.]    ❝   you sticking around? i gotta’ fix the wiring in here.  ❞

on the good ship skeld that breaks down every five fuckin’ minutes——   time is the only objective observer,  the hum of her wrist-watch flat against her skin and the buzz of the wires,  frayed at the edges.    someone else’s problem.    words scratched from documents and you didn’t sign up to be hunted like an animal.    but you’ve always been wily,  coyote,   born to survive.    fucking mira,  fucking mira,  fucking————

silence isn’t enough or maybe it’s too much with her hands cold and flinching to every little sound,  each creak and moan of the aging ship.   but i am eden.   grand forgotten garden,  still sitting alone in the nighttime and the daytime because at some point they just become an ugly one.   it sets her teeth on edge,  grinding her molars.   she prefers the solitude,  the safety of being alone.   stupid ship,  stupid fucking mira,   stupid fucking imposters ——      ❛    ——— hm?   yeah.   i’m downloading some data anyways,  i was going to check on the O2 filter while it downloads but i can stick around.    ❜

in  brainwashing,  the agent (the  brainwasher) must have total control over the target (the  brainwashee) to the point of  sleep  patterns,  eating,  all  basics  needs;   forcing them to become completely dependent upon the will of the agent.   in the 1950s,  robert jay lifton studied former prisoners of war and decided that they had undergone a multiple step process to destroy the self, each stage must take place within an environment of ‘isolation’,  removing all  normal  social reference points.   mind-clouding techniques like  sleep deprivation,  malnutrition  are often a large part of the process.   there is often a presence/constant threat of physical harm,  adding a difficulty of thinking critically and independently.   i’m going to focus on the first five points of lifton’s brainwashing theory.

LIFETRAP TEST:     your lifetrap is unrelenting standards.

your primary feeling is one of pressure. you feel as if you can never relax and enjoy life. that you must always push to get ahead. for you, life is only doing. it is having to work or achieve all the time. you feel frustrated and irritated with yourself for not meeting your own high standards.

physical stress is common with you. you may have headaches. digestion or bowel problems, as well as high blood pressure and/or insomnia. at root, you probably feel chronically angry, but with no apparent object to direct that anger towards. instead of staying with that anger, you channel it outwards to your surroundings. everything has to be perfect. you need to feel in control.

most likely you are successful. but you rarely stop and enjoy your success. the balance between work and pleasure feels lopsided. you turn many forms of activity into work and it enslaves you. you seem to have lost touch with your basic self. you go through the motions, but no longer know what makes you happy.

ASK ELIZABETH LAMB ABOUT   THE  HOPE  COUNTY  INCIDENT,   she’ll always call it coincidence or shit-ass-luck.     she was   never   meant to be at the arrest of joseph seed.     the arresting second to deputy cameron burke was meant to be deputy jousha carrington,   who was sick with food poisoning when the arrest was meant to take place.     unable to postpone the arrest,   deputy elizabeth lamb was asked to step in and take his place.     agreeing,   [due to having a childhood friend in hope county]   she embarked on the trip to montana and the helicopter ride into hope county.     this   was  bad  luck   to her. 

REVELATION 6:1:          AND I SAW WHEN     THE LAMB     OPENED ONE OF THE SEALS, AND I HEARD, AS IT WERE THE NOISE OF THUNDER, ONE OF THE FOUR BEASTS SAYING, COME AND SEE.

her vest had her name on it.     DEPUTY  E.  LAMB.     joseph seed quotes  revelation 6:1  as he is arrested,   directed to elizabeth.     IN  THAT  MOMENT,   SHE  BECOMES  HIS  LAMB.     SHE  BECOMES  THE  FIFTH  SEAL.     joseph perceives her as   his  destiny.     that she will bring forth the collapse & as she survives   everything   his brothers,   sister & flock throw at her,   he becomes more sure of that.     that both  she  is   his  destiny   and that they are destined to survive the collapse together. 

JOSEPH SEED:     YOU ARE NOT HERE BY ACCIDENT OR CHANCE.                                                                                   [..     MISSION:   THE  CLEANSING.]

REVELATION 6:9-10:          AND WHEN HE HAD OPENED     THE FIFTH SEAL, I SAW UNDER THE ALTAR THE SOULS OF THEM THAT WERE SLAIN FOR THE WORD OF GOD, AND FOR THE TESTIMONY WHICH THEY HELD: AND THEY CRIED WITH A LOUD VOICE, SAYING, HOW LONG, O LORD, HOLY AND TRUE, DOST THOU NOT JUDGE AND AVENGE OUR BLOOD ON THEM THAT DWELL ON THE EARTH?

she doesn’t see herself as anyone’s destiny,   anyone’s anything.     the continued idea during the game that   you  were  meant  to  be  there,   is consistently rejected by elizabeth.     the mass-cult ideology of   the  fifth  sin & the  fifth  seal   is projected on her,   unwillingly forcing her into the role of  ‘wrath’ & ‘the lamb’.     linking into that,   joseph’s reactions to his siblings death’s influence the idea of the seven seals & the lamb [referring to the deaths of his siblings at the hand of the deputy as   A  SEAL  HAS  BEEN  OPENED.]     the first four biblical seals release the four horsemen of the apocalypse [which ubisoft art depicts the four seed siblings as] while the fifth seal releases ‘cries of martyrs for the wrath of god’.     the death of the last sibling references the deputy   A  SNAKE  IN  THE  GARDEN [an obvious parallel to the snake of the garden of eden who   corrupted   adam & eve by convincing them to eat a fruit from the tree of good and evil].     she is continuously forced into roles within joseph’s vision of the collapse,   her narrative within it being constantly changed and manipulated in order to fit his ‘visions’.     [even how originally the group are referred to as   THE  LOCUSTS  IN  OUR  GARDEN   by joseph,   before changing elizabeth’s narrative to the-sinner-to-be-cleansed & the lamb and then to the snake;   constantly changing how she is seen & portrayed as.]

JOHN:    YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. YOU DON'T BELIEVE. YOU DON'T CARE. FAITH:     YOU STILL DON’T UNDERSTAND. YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT IS YOU'RE DOING, DO YOU? JACOB:     YOU DID EVERYTHING HE SAID YOU WOULD DO. AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN KNOW IT. YOU HAD NO FUCKING CLUE.                                          [..     MISSIONS:   WRATH,   PARADISE  LOST,   ONLY  YOU.]

all of the seed siblings relate to the idea of fate [primarily stemming from joseph’s beliefs/visions] and that the deputy has a larger role to play.     that her actions are some larger then life,   that it has been foresaw and   was  meant  to  happen,   to an extent.     [jacob stating that joseph truly saw the death of his siblings by her hand & that she followed what he saw,   without knowing.]      there is a consistent message of fate & destiny,   that you were meant to kill the seeds always,    that it always ends in the bunker.     this is your purpose.