Thoroughbred

Hello! Welcome to the intro post for this blog;

This blog will be entirely based on my story Thoroughbred and its designated characters (my ocs)

Characters

Each character will have their own section for art that I draw of them, if a piece contains both characters it will be tagged for both. (Judas and Jessie will have their own joint tag)

J & J

Jessie

Judas

Michelle

“The Stag”

Lore posting & excerpts

Sometimes I will post lore regarding certain characters individually, whether that be info found in the story timeline or outside of it. I will also occasionally write small blurbs, mostly of character conversations or thoughts, these will also be tagged appropriately!

Asks

While I don’t expect this blog to get much traction, I will always be open to asks about the characters, story, relationships, etc.

As long as all asks are respectful, I will answer any and all of them.

Longevity

This story and these characters are a personal project for me, posting may be spread out or subject to hiatus at any point. I hope to maybe make this a comic one day, but until then this will be my main outlet for these characters.

Important details/warnings

This story and some of the correlating art will contain depictions and/or mention of child abuse, war, alcoholism, ethnic discrimination, hunting, human/animal death, and toxic relationships. Any posts containing this will be tagged accordingly, so please tread lightly.

Thank you for reading and I hope these characters will bring some entertainment to you!

Heres a playlist that will be updated regularly

Five days, Michelle had convinced Jessie to stay with her, in her house with her mother, for five days. Even after Jessie’s recent argument with Judas, convincing one to stay away from the other was no small task. Yet Michelle persevered, believing wholeheartedly in her noble objective.

It took 2 days for it to fall apart. Michelle had hoped, assumed that simply removing Judas from the picture would be the thing to calm Jessie down. She was determined to get back that “sweet boy” she knew in high school, the boy tormented by a hard life, but still salvageable. What Michelle didn’t assume was that the boy she knew would pull a knife on her mother. Michelle’s mother, Ava, had always let her biases get the better of her, especially when it came to someone like Judas. Nothing was ever said outright, a good church woman such as Ava would never be so crude. Though after one too many, “you know his type” and “he should know where he don’t belong”, people start to get the idea. Jessie of all people, was not dumb enough to be oblivious to her remarks. That’s where things began to crumble

“What the fuck did you say about him?” Jessie shouted over the wooden coffee table in Michelle’s living room. He roughly pointed a pocket knife in Ava’s direction. “The hell do you think you are to talk ‘bout anybody else?” Jessie’s shoulders brimmed with anger, as if his whole body was willing him to tear down the entire house.

“Jessie for god’s sake— please just put down the knife, this isn’t like you!” Michelle pleaded frantically, entirely unsure of how to deal with the situation in front of her. “I know you’re angry but you’re ‘bout to do something you don’t really mean!” She hoped her words would sway Jessie, bring out the rationality in him.

“Not like me? Something I don’t mean?” Jessie tossed Michelle’s words back at her, he would’ve mocked her if he wasn’t so livid. “What the hell is with you— acting like you fuckin’ know me inside out, hm?” Jessie grinned, but his face was filled with fervent disgust. “I’m gettin’ outta here.” He mumbled under his breath, pocket knife still gripped tightly in his fingers.

“Good— get out of my home, by god I pray that you take your demons with you!” Ava retaliated, no longer worrying for her life. Jessie walked over to the landline by the front door, aggressively dialing a familiar number. Michelle still stood appalled in the living room, looking back and forth between the two others in the room.

“Mama please just wait a second,” Michelle attempted to console her mother slightly, “and who are you calling, Jessie?” She trembled, not in fear, in shock. Jessie turned and looked at her incredulously.

“Who do ya think i’m calling.” Jessie put emphasis on each word. Finally the call went through and a mumbled voice came through the phone. Even from a different number the voice on the other side knew who was calling. Michelle felt her eyes beginning to water, she mindlessly shook her head. “Yeah, it’s me,” Jessie said into the phone, his voice wildly calm compared to how he was just minutes ago, “how quick can you get here?” The voice on the phone quickly responded, then the line went dead, Jessie put the phone back. He walked past Michelle and grabbed his bag in the corner of the living room, just as quickly he turned on his heel and walked to the front door.

“Come on, Jessie you can’t leave!” Michelle pleaded again, she let go of her mother’s hand in pursuit of the man. Jessie threw the door open roughly and walked to the end of the small pathway leading up to the house. Michelle felt anger rising within her, she was about to lose Jessie and she’d barely even gotten him back. “Why do you keep running back to him?” She yelled this time, not caring if any of the neighbors were home. “After all the shit he’s made you do— you act like he actually cares about you!” Michelle wanted answers, wanted to know how somebody could’ve ruined Jessie so thoroughly.

“Because he does fuckin’ care about me! I don’t know who you think you are to know otherwise.” Jessie whipped around and jabbed his finger at her. He seemed angrier now at Michelle’s word than he did at Ava’s.

“For the love of god Jessie!” Michelle screamed, hands coming up the grip her own hair. “You two fight all the time— physically too, y’all beat the shit out of each other! The whole town knows it too.” She could feel the tears in her eyes preparing to spill over. “That’s not how you treat somebody that care about, much less somebody you love.” Michelle stared at Jessie, watching his expression contort into something unreadable.

“How would you know how I love, Michelle.” Jessie’s tone falling flat, his eyebrows furrowing. Michelle’s eyes widened, half hurt by his implications and half angered at his admission.

“So you love him then? Is that what that is to you?” Michelle asked disingenuously, she couldn’t tell whether or not she wanted a truthful answer. “Why can’t things be like they were in high school? Why do you let him turn you into this?” She motioned vaguely towards Jessie. Tears streamed down her face, she quickly wiped them away. “How am I supposed to fix this if you won’t let me?” It sounded more like begging than questioning, but Michelle didn’t care about the difference between the two at this point.

“I fuckin’ knew it.” Jessie scoffed, running his hand over his face. “You wanna fix this— fix me huh?” His voice dripping with mockery. “You ain’t my savior Michelle, ‘nd I wasn’t looking for no church in the first place.” Jessie said through gritted teeth. Michelle felt insulted, she wanted to help, right, that’s all this was.

“Jessie, i’m trying to help you.” Michelle choked out. “Can’t you see that?” She cried.

“I can’t actually,” Jessie retorted, “why don’t you tell me what i’m supposed to be lookin’ for.” He spread his arms out, as if he was allowing her to throw whatever she had at him.

“That I love you!” Michelle shouted. “That’s what you’re supposed to do for somebody you love, you’re supposed to wanna help!” She hoped that she could make him understand.

“C’mon Michelle, you don’t love me.” Jessie said exasperated as he turned to see a familiar truck finally coming down the road. Michelle’s will only increased at the sight of this.

“And he does?” She flared, she wasn’t concerned anymore, just simmering in her own anger. “It’s damn funny y’know— for people who love each other so much you can’t even say it out loud.” Michelle sneered. Jessie’s anger reignited immediately, the truck finally parked, though it never turned off.

“I don’t have to say it out loud for it to be true, Michelle!” Jessie screamed, his chest rose violently as his body caught up to his emotions. “That’s what your fuckin’ issue is! You think just ‘cause you keep saying something that it’s gonna be true!” He gripped the straps of his bag in his hand. Michelle’s face dropped, her body suddenly feeling weak.

“No, that’s not-” Michelle tried to speak but she couldn’t find it in herself to continue. All she could do was stew in her own emotions and the fact that maybe what she assumed to be love was never going to be adequate enough for her. Jessie finally went up to the truck, bag in hand as he swung open the door and climbed in. Michelle looked at Judas through the open door, she hoped that she would see malice in his eyes, something to justify her thoughts and anger. Yet as she stared at him, his eyes never once met her, his gaze fixed on Jessie the entire time.

“Go back inside to your mama, Michelle, y’all got church tomorrow don’t you?” Jessie said plainly before closing the truck door behind him, the windows still down. He turned to Judas, not speaking, he didn’t need to. Judas put the truck into drive again, turning back in the direction of their shared home.

The drive home today was more stifling than usual. Judas couldn’t seem to stop aggressively tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, and Jessie writhed periodically in his seat, as if the fabric was eating away at his skin. The sky was beginning to blur between oranges and purples, not yet night, a surprisingly early time for the two to be done with work.

The truck’s tires halted in the gravel outside the house, the sound of doors opening and slamming soon followed. Judas lit a cigarette as he walked through the house entrance, Jessie seemed to streamline to the refrigerator. As Judas let out of breath of pure smoke he turned to sound of Jessie cracking open the top of a beer bottle. This wasn’t unusual for either of them, not the beer or the cigarettes, nor the unwarranted urge to say something that didn’t need to be said. It had become their schedule, their own form of normalcy.

“That friend of yours stopped by the saw mill today.” Judas stated through another puff of smoke. Jessie furrowed his brows at the sentence, holding his beer just away from his lips.

“Friend?” The word rolled off Jessie’s tongue with a faint implication of disgust. “What friend do I got that’d be showin’ up at the mill?” He took a sip of beer, as if trying to wash down the taste of his own words.

“Y’know the blonde woman, gets real snappy at me whenever she sees us two in the same place.” Judas spoke idly, resting his elbows on the counter across from Jessie in the kitchen. Jessie scoffed at his response.

“That’s Michelle, don’t think I’d call her a friend though, ‘least not on my half,” Jessie’s tone mocked whatever relationship the two of them supposedly had. “Did she say anything to ya?”

“Not with her mouth she ain’t, her eyes sure as hell called me a few names though.” Judas groaned. Jessie’s mouth twitched, suddenly irritated again, on whose behalf was unclear.

“Then why’d you bring her up?” Jessie gritted through his teeth. “Trying to make small talk with me like we don’t fuckin’ live together.” His grip around the neck of the bottle tightened. Judas shoved the butt of the cigarette into the ash try, suddenly irritated by Jessie’s change in demeanor.

“Hey, don’t get pissy just ‘cause your little friend decided to make evil eyes at me,” Judas jabbed. “Maybe you stay with her for as long as you’ve stayed with me, she’ll start looking at you like that too.” Jessie grimaced at the statement.

“That’s not what this is about ‘nd you know it,” Jessie placed the beer bottle down on the counter, rougher than he should’ve. The corner of Judas’ mouth twitched slightly. “-and I told you she ain’t my friend, that’s-” Jessie stopped, the words caught in his throat were far too honest for a situation like this, too tender. It angered him, he swung his arm back, tossing the empty beer bottle into wall. Judas looked complacently at the glass that fell from the impact. Jessie stared expectantly.

“If that’s how you wanted tonight to go,” Judas pressed off the counter to stand fully, “then we could’ve had this talk before we got in the fuckin’ car.” Jessie grinned, wide and empty. They knew each other, an action was never a random thing, hell it wasn’t even an action, it was always a response.

Judas drew his arm back and swung roughly over the counter, hitting Jessie square in the jaw. Jessie recovered quickly, as he usually did. He sprung forward, grabbing the hair on the sides of Judas’ head and slamming his head into the counter beneath them. Judas gripped the edge of the wood to steady himself, a move barely noticeable in the motion of him grabbing the glass ash tray and throwing it right at Jessie’s face. Jessie was still unstable from the first punch, not right enough to be able to dodge the projectile coming at him.

“Motherfucker-” Jessie yelled as the glass collided with his nose. “You always go for the nose!” He groaned disingenuously as reached over the counter to throw his own punch.

Judas began to respond, but was quickly cut off by Jessie’s knuckles connecting directly onto his lips, slamming them into his teeth. Judas winced at the taste of his own blood in his mouth, his lip had been busted. Jessie finally rounded the corner of the counter, bringing him into proximity with Judas. He realized his mistake immediately as Judas practically tackled him into the wall where he had just shattered his beer bottle. The both of them getting cut up by the discarded shards as they fell to the ground.

Their movements began to blur for a while, trading blows that were far more emotionally charged than what they were both used to — but maybe a cathartic conversation is what they needed. Things that were too honest to be said with words could always be communicated another way. Each admission through violence was a weight off their shoulders, just enough to make room for the exhaustion that came with the fight. This was honesty, this was normalcy. A language that was easier to speak, with words that never lingered, only bruises to remind them of their agreements.

After was seemed to be hours, their punches slowed, a resolution was being reached. Judas slumped onto the floor beside couch, Jessie rested his head against the wall. A silence hung in the air, only interrupted by the sound of the two catching their breath. Judas flexed the muscles in his hand, he could already feel the bruising settling into his knuckles and face, he let out a small laugh, barely audible. Jessie heard it nonetheless, he began to laugh to himself as his fingertips grazed the fresh wound on the bridge of his nose.

The laughing increased in volume. Practically in unison, the two men descended into a fit of almost giggling. The laughter only ceasing when one stopped to take a breath. Judas turned onto his side as he attempted to stifle the sound of his own amusement.

“I told you,” Judas cackled, “we coulda had this talk before we got in the damn truck.” He weakly propped himself up on his elbows, finally looking at Jessie again.

“Yeah I guess.” Jessie stared at Judas’ face, putting more focus onto his busted lip. “Ride home woulda been bad either way.” Jessie grinned, fuller this time. Judas let his head fall back onto the wooden floor. He thought of the glass in the side of Jessie’s arm.

Damascus is a plain little town, not much coming in, and quite frankly nothing ever going out. The people stagnate and the air stills, eventually the same conversations get cycled through just to keep the townsfolk from suffocating on their own opinions.

Jessie and Judas are a common conversation.

That conversation decided to recycle the air of the shoddy gas station and mechanic shop that sits dead center in the middle of Damascus.

The owner and cashier is an older man named Richard, he also happens to be Jessie’s boss. Richard is known for being welcoming, everybody calls him Rick and there’s never been a complaint about his service, but even he can fall victim to an enticing conversation starter. This time the hook has been thrown by one of his regulars, Heidi, similarly aged but more inclined to gossip. Today she has propped herself up on the counter while Rick is absentmindedly sorting through change.

“So how’s the shop getting on with that little blondie working the cars?” Heidi chirped, hardly trying to conceal the intentions behind her question.

“Little blondie, do you mean Jessie?” Rick glanced up from his pile of change of the counter. “That boy’s doin’ just fine, knows his way around any car I’ve thrown at him.”

“Oh I’m sure, but I guess he’s gotta be good with cars to compensate for his other issues y’know?” The skin around Heidi’s eye crinkles with implications. She’s baiting Rick, whether it be for new information or just to rile him up is unclear. Rick’s been talking to Heidi long enough to know how to avoid her digging, but today he’s bored enough to let her pick out a shovel.

“Well, i’m sure, that I don’t know what you mean by that.” Rick lies, as he usually does. “I’d say Jessie is about as up right as you can get in a place like this.” Heidi’s eyes widen, clearly amused.

“Upright my ass,” Heidi pushed off the counter to stand fully. “He is one of the most bent around, fucked up people I have ever met in my life, in your life too for god’s sake!” She raised her voice, it could’ve come off as anger but Rick knew that it was just her excitement getting the better of herself. “I’m surprised that damn dog of a friend he has ain’t wisened up and left yet.” Heidi jabbed her finger into the counter, as if it somehow made her point more factual. Before she could continue on her tirade the sound of the bells above the entrance doors rang out. A taller man stepped in quietly and stared at the two at the counter.

“Y’all talking ‘bout me?” A deep voice sounded, fresh with rasp as if he’d just woken up, or maybe had one too many cigarettes after breakfast. Rick turned his head down to conceal his grin of embarrassment, Heidi stiffened up just enough for it to be noticeable. Judas blinked expectantly at the both of them.

“Oh, don’t bat your lashes at me boy,” Heidi muttered in an attempt to gather herself again. “Plus, we were talking about ol’ Jes, your name never even got brought up baby.”

“Same damn thing,” Judas groaned as he grabbed a bag of kettle corn from the shelf on the side of the counter. Heidi’s jaw went slack, she knew Judas wasn’t exactly famous for being tactful, but she didn’t expect such bluntness either.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” She chimed again, hoping to regain some footing in the imaginary argument she believed she was in. Judas placed the bag down in front of Rick on the cash register and turned to look at Heidi. Their eyes caught and Heidi sank back slightly, an inexplicable offense was sitting in Judas’ eyes — as if she had just insulted something that was part of his very being.

“I think you’ve been around long enough to know that.” Judas stated plainly, he looked back to his purchase as Rick finished ringing him up. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, already thick from the humidity of the summer time.

“Is- uh- that all for you today?” Rick stuttered out with noticeable force. Judas hummed in response and began to walk to the door. The bells above the door jingled as it swung open, Judas paused with a foot out the door and turned his head back.

“And don’t call him “Jes” neither,” he stopped mid sentence — a look of contemplation flashing in his eyes, he was deciding whether or not he should continue. A disingenuous smile was suddenly plastered onto his face, he had made his decision.