Gavin

Full eyestrain AF page link

"But Allison! How were you able to screenshot that example if you're so sensitive to eyestrain?"

I dimmed the HELL out of my computer screen and looked away while taking the screenshot and did the same when putting it into this post, that's how lol. BUT YEAH ANYWAYS!!! Once again:

Mophead

Dread seeped into every crevasse of their nervous system when word reached them, the bombing of your entire town left no chance of survival.

I t was decimated to nothing, yet leaving you in the rubble thanks to the distance of your house.

Physically you were untouched when you were brought to the bunker, the emptiness of your expression and hollow eyes spoke enough of your condition to them.

Nobody would be alright after experiencing what you did, and it broke their heart that it had happened in the first place.

"I got you...I got you. It-its alright I'm here, were safe, were safe I promise (name)."

Mophead jumped at the offer to watch over you in the Infirmary when you'd sleep til the higher ups knew what to do with you.

They'd hope with enough resources you'd be able to get out of here, Mophead adored your company, but they weren't cruel enough to wish you'd join them in this hell.

You deserved so much better than that as they couldn’t fight the urge to curl up against your back on the rickety metal bed frame and dull mattress.

"I meant what I said you know, the day you got hurt. Your nothing like me...please stop believing you are."

Their words stung, but they needed to be said, arms growing tighter around your torso when you cried.

But their words served no order here, they were a scout, they barely held any bravery when it came to the trenches, let alone the higher ups.

Upon learning you were enlisted they were so angry, why on earth would you do this to yourself?! You had so much potential, so much freedom why would you do this?! They thankfully had enough self control not to torture the reason out of you, you were heartbroken enough at the decision yourself.

Seeing your expression and your predicament, there was nothing more to be done, no family to run to, you didn't have anything it was either this...or be brought to a different town where you'd probably be poor and have no choice but to enlist.

Mophead was sour for the betterment of a week but never let you out of their sight throughout that time, if you were a guiding hope for them then, Mophead will be yours now.

Their fending off any supposed conman as Carrie put it, wanting to help in any way yet knowing nothing could be done.

At least your wouldn't be alone like they were.

Anything you do, they’re right beside you, taking up extra shifts to be near, cleaning gear, you’d both navigate this together, even if you couldn’t be in the same squad.

They try so hard to keep the light in your eyes alive, using methods you always did to cheer them up like working on poetry together or making stories to pass the time.

“It’ll be fine…we’ve got each other, what if-what if we can live back in your house when this is over yeah? I think that sounds nice.”

It’s both a joyous and concerning day for them when you get the hang of everything, able to shoot down enemies through the chaos without a thought of running, handle reports and wetwork without wincing at the gore.

Mophead felt like they’d fallen behind, left alone once again when you start interacting with others, it was supposed to be you both against this war. Stick together and make it out in tact.

But they can always trust you’ll come to them on the nights the bombs echo above, you always come and sleep in their cramped bunk together.

The idea of escape is tempting, but the outside world is just as terrifying to them as the thought ofosing you, so as selfish as it is...they'll keep you to themselves.

And one day, you come out of the rezzer different, not physically, nor mentally, just a bit confused....muttering something about a strange dream and the mural above the rezzer coming to life before you.

Mophead has to bite back the excitement they hold for you both, maybe this war held something for the both of you now, granting you the same visions they had.

"Your like me then....you've seen it, dreamt it, then...then I'm not losing my mind."

Munroe

It's tragic, so fucking tragic for both of you, he can't do anything but hug you close once he finds you.

Shaking and clinging to each other just to feel your alive and actually there with him, only to be followed by your sobbing to which he holds you tighter.

Death was something so familiar to him he’d somewhat forgotten it was permanent til you came into his life, and know here you stood to join him in its sick twisted grip of undying devotion.

He can't think of your future at the moment, he needs to keep you grounded in the now.

"Hey, you know what to do if anyone causes you trouble, keep that in mind around here..."

He wants to get you out so badly but it's already too late for you, nowhere to go, no family to retreat to, it's all gone and what's left if the Crown Army.

Looming over you like an ominous spotlight instead of a saving grace, walking from a destroyed home into a haunted battlefield.

He wonders if this is what Eriche felt like when they first met, he was such a naive thing in the beginning of the war, always looking to Eriche for guidance.

Adjusting is a nightmare for you, experiencing what you only heard rumors about surrounded by disfigured by battle with you soon to follow. All being in a seperate team from Munroe wasn't helping either of your worries.

The first time you did is a hell of it's own, so confused and scared Munroe was thankful to have stood outside the rezzer waiting for you, feeling you barrel into his arms and sob into his shirt.

"I know, I know it's alright....fuck...your ok (name). I got ya."

When you start showing any symptoms of becoming a contam, a mismatched eye, or an irregular limb is when he gets the idea to run away.

It wasn’t smart by any means but he couldn’t keep doing this, he didn’t want any of this to happen let alone to you.

You were like a wake up call to everything, the blood, the horrors, the pain and war he didn't want a part in, he'd already lost Eriche, losing you next would only solidify his despair.

He hugs you close the night of this realization, needing to feel your heartbeat to his ear as he lets everything fall into place.

"We'll get out of this, I promise. One way or enough we'll run far away so they'll never find us, we'll be free."

He trusted you more then the war, when laying out the plan to run, your house was the easiest spot to reach. The woods and rain would hopefully be enough to cover your tracks.

Munroe hadn't seen the world outside these mud and wooden built trenches, even with what little he remembered before was a mess of feeling then visuals.

And even with what guilt he felt for comrades he'd leave behind in this war, and knowing if he did this he'd spend more then a good chunk of his life running.

When packing up Eriche's shrine to take with him that night, he knew it would be better then any fate here in the army.

There's a lot of hesitation the day of the attempt, ensuring both your schedules aligned to make it together, erase any suspicion of the rest of the team, goodness knows Carrie wouldn't dream of snitching.

The night is cold and stormy when you both run, tied together to not lose the other in the rain as he relied on you to weave through the trees and woods avoiding any deep puddles before reaching your old house. Now empty and stripped of your belongings.

But now was a waiting game, in the meantime he changed his clothes to let them dry, immediately hugging you at the sigh of your shaking, no doubt scared from both the storm and the weight of what was happening.

"Hey...we'll be alright, we've got this all planned out, it'll be smoother from here on out."

Having each other was what remained the foundation of this plan, he wanted to see the world or whatever parts that weren't the war he'd been in, and having you along just made it all the more worth it.

Besides even if the army caught up, he was good enough of a shot to take them out...and if push came to shove, he couldn't allow your or his bodies to be recovered and taken back to the rezzer.

You'd both still be able to see the world in the afterlife, maybe as ghosts....and you could meet Eriche too.

But for now he was alive, with you in the little house, planning to live the way you both wanted and not at the hands of a royal army recycling corpses.

Carrie

He doesn't know how to feel, or what to do, the information refusing to register to his brain.

Everything was gone, the village was uninhabitable now, bombed to smithereens, nothing but destruction and ash except for that small little house far from it all. It was your horrific saving grace.

That much he could see when you were brought to the bunker, shaking like a fawn with big wide eyes of terror before running to him. Breaking down in his arms right then and there.

And when he learns of your enlistment through Warwick, the fit he throws had even the seasoned Corporal shake at how he snarled and threatened him.

“Where the fuck do you think they’ll be of use?! You think they’ll just up n’ take a rifle n be another little monster like the rest of us?!”

He meant to be cruel, laughing manically as he yelled, hoping to berate both you and the higher ups out of getting you tangled up in this mess.

But they seemed so adamant, excuses about materials to send you away would be a waste instead of keeping you here.

It all sounded disgusting when Warwick tried to calm him down, what about this situation in any way warranted a calm reaction?!

It all seems hopeless til he has one horrible idea, but what else could he do?

He’d heard stories, stupid ones, probably just rumors about deserters making it out of here if they were smart enough. If you weren’t, they’d shoot you like a dog to be dragged back to the rezzer to continue your duty.

It was a dangerous thing, too much risk so he let the idea settle as he had to practically drag your whimpering self through each task given. As amusing as it was to watch you stumble and tremble like any other piss poor sod, the true terror hit him when he witnessed your first death.

He’d never been good at staying alive himself but seeing you go down first finalized his decision as he watched the gore of your body bleed out into the dirt.

It didn’t get any better when you were rezzed as he sat down besides your curled up form in the barracks with a cig to share since he couldn’t really smoke it himself.

It all depended on you, if you were brave enough to follow through as he muttered the idea of escape to you.

"I'm not lettin you think that bein' stuck in here means that you deserve to join this hell, you've got the chance to leave this, take it before your brain tells ya otherwise."

Relief filled him when you agreed, but know came a harder part, planning an escape, running on foot was out of the question, he scouted for what he could, snooping when he could and rummaging through the files for when any trucks would come in.

On the night of your leave, he's at your side both to ensure you don't try to chicken out, and support knowing even if you’re going someplace better, it’s still terrifying.

Your town was considered safe, and look what happened to it.

He'd lose his other eye before he sees you contaminated, you're getting on that truck no matter your opinion, on the Crown Army's on the matter.

He wakes you up in the dead of night to get going, he may not be the quietest, but Carrie's slinking to the elevator like he'd move through the trenches, mumbling curses under his breath when the elevator creaks and clicks too loudly.

The moment is far too quiet for the both of you while he helps load what little you salvaged into the truck hidden beneath the seats and floorboards so they wouldn't find you.

Before helping you hide beneath them, it was the best he could provide, and the only chance you had of getting out unscathed.

He could see that hopeful lie forming in your misty eyes, the tremble of your lip before he cuts you off.

"You don't wait for shit when you get out of here, no hoping, no letters, you hide ya hear me? You jump off this truck at the sight of a big ol’ town a you hide alright, your smarter then ya think mate…keep that in mind n you’ll survive all of this.”

Understanding he will never see you again, as long as he can live and be revived as he went back to his bunk pretending you were nothing but a dream. Just one, peaceful dream he'd conjured up to cope with this war.

Warwick loomed over Carrie the next day as they woke for patrol, knowing exactly what he’d done but having no evidence to condemn the bastard soldier when hearing form the others you'd dissapeared.

“Your little friend went missin’ the other night, know anythin’ bout that ol boy?”

Carrie merely huffed in exhausted amusement, if his singular eye still worked there would be tears flowing from it as he checked his rifle.

“Heh….got scared out of their boots and got away? Smartest decision I think I’ve ever heard since coming to this hell.”

Warwick wasn’t cruel enough to sell Carrie out, his returning loneliness would be punishment enough for helping you escape as he looked up to the cloudy skies with the sun just peeking out through it.

Some part of him knowing he did the right thing despite what great pain he felt in his chest in your absence.

Warwick

For one of the few times in his life, he hated being correct. And being so helpless to doing anything both as a soldier and his rank. And as your close friend.

He felt so ashamed having to fetch you from your home, unable to bring your personal belongings because most of them already resided within the bunker, and you'd be forced to enlist to the crown army.

"You keep that mask I gave you in good condition. Keep that and what I've taught you in mind n' you'll be set..."

He tries so hard to be positive for you, but it's more than obvious to anyone he's devastated to have this happen.

War was so ugly, and it ruined everything it touched, it ruined him and now it had ruined your life and your future.

The best thing he had now tossed in this melting pot of bodies and blood, all mixing into this vat of dirt and barbwire.

The positivity didn't last, it died once he started seeing all the things he experienced when first enlisting, complaining about the uncomfortable bunks, the foods quality, clothes not fitting and how scared youd become at the first sound of gunfire.

But you always rushed to him like he expected, it gave him at least some on control of managing your emotional distress when dragging you out of the crossfire for cover

"Your alright your alight soldier, just a graze nothing else ya hear. Now back on ya feet, just follow our lead at?"

It all just amplified how homesick you were, even though your physical home still stood at the edge of your little home town, the home you'd built on connection lied only with him now.

It got to a point you'd sleep most of the time not doing chores or tasks, that or laying in bed staring blankly into the wall, and even then sometimes nightmares found their way into your overwhelmed mind.

Warwick was thankful for his stubbornness, he could keep you just above water to keep your sanity, utilizing all the belongings he'd kept from your visits. Even bringing one to the mess hall for you to enjoy and tell him about.

He can't play the harmonica anymore with his mouth, but you sure can, and as stupid as it felt he encouraged you to make friends or at least connections for when he'd be absent, you knew how to fight so at least you could take anyone trying to pick on you.

Words could not describe how happy he was to see you scraped up in the nurse's office with a more fucked up soldier in the cot besides it. You smiled so proudly even if your lips were bleeding.

"Well lookit' you little scrapper aren't ya mate. Good job."

And once your spirits are back up, you mellow out back to the person you used to be, changed but more adapted to your environment as you get better with training per his request.

Your still scared of thunderstorms, and even then he is always willing to hold you close no matter the circumstances, even in the trenches you can always hide in his arms beneath the cover of a foxhole.

The books get traded for new ones once they all start feeling boring, even little inklings of a book club coming along, he's happy you've gotten used to this war, but his heart still hurts seeing how the features that normally made you stand out now becoming mishapen with time.

Warwick has half a heart to try and offer the chance of escape, he feels to attached to the war with his face most of all, and you while changing can still avoid his fate.

"Stay round here long enough you'll start to look like me my friend."

Warwick has always remained professional in his work, but seeing you get shot down reallt touched a sensitive part of his heart he didn't want to acknowledged still beat, reliving nightmares of his family being shot down and now you is too much for him.

Carrying you back finalizes his realization, you've already accepted your place in this war, that much was seen from how you sought him out once revived. Shaken like a deer but falling into ease once more as he offered to read today.

Didn't make him happy to accept, but he was happy you valued him as a friend just as much, hugging you close wordlessly searching for any differences in your body.

And even on the day he does, that won't change his opinion of you in the slightest, your the closest family he's got now.

Kelly

No feeling could be named to describe how much a failure she felt, as a lieutenant & as your friend.

When she saw you sitting in the back of that military truck with what little belongings you were allowed shaking like a leaf, it took all her self control not to beg forgiveness for her failure.

Keeping her word on never letting you enlist was impossible noe, you could be so much more in her eyes but nothing was going to work now with your state.

They couldn't relocate you anywhere safer since you had no family or money to support yourself, it would be the same as sending you to death.

She has the idea to sign you up to be a nurse, it would keep you off the battlefield and still be useful.

And when confronted with the higher ups,

"I'll handle it, their my responsibility now, they'll be treated just like all the other recruits."

But she backtracked that idea quickly, the nurses had to handle so much blood & gore.

Missing limbs, empty eye sockets, blasted open stomachs having to be shoved back inside a vessel before shipping it off into the machine. It was a violent job and she couldn't imagine you doing it let alone withstanding the trauma.

The next few days go on like this, debating a suitable role that would keep you intact but still be useful to The Crown Army, though each role left her dismissing it once you offered it.

A mechanic? No. The idea of you being anywhere near the machine let alone doing maintenance set her on edge.

A janitor? That's a chore and less of a rank, too much blood, too much exposure to the aftermath of it all unable to do anything then pick up after soldiers messes.

She kept coming back to the idea of a nurse but shot it down each timeabsolutely, so vulnerable to absolute dogs and having to grin and bear it? She'd shoot them herself if it ever came to it.

In the end the best she settles you for is being a guard, it's not too taxing with it's list of chores here and there. Occasionally breaking up fights but with the proper training you'll be just fine.

Kelly is torn between treating you like a soldier or the friend you used to be, if you'd even be considered close anymore.

The weakness you've caused her in infuriating and miserable for you both, a silent dance around the fragile connection.

It felt rude to call you to her office but she couldn't think of a different way to get you both alone.

"How're you faring soldi-(name)? Heard you've been struggling with a few training drills, as your superior it is my duty to keep everyone at a standard level of skill to function...perhaps you are in need of some personal training."

She's trying so hard to be subtle, but you know her even after bing enlisted.

"Are-do you want to spend time together like old times?"

Kelly is both relieved yousaw right through her, and worried of how soft she has gotten for you, and happy you still see her like you had before.

It didn't feel unprofessional, and even if your positions were definitely one of the sort, that honestly wouldn't have stopped her, she missed your company and your candid kindness reminded her no matter how things would change, you or her, she couldn't get rid of you that easily.

And teaching you how to handle yourself better then before puts her heart at ease even if the threats you face change you in body and mind, she'll be right beside you every step of contamination.

Besides she still holds your compliments to her features close to her heart, she won't let you think less of yourself if you change, your still hers.

And goodness help anyone who buies you, for your looks, inexperience or hell even being her 'favorite' which isn't even close to what she considers you, there will be punishment.

"I'll have none of it, if anyone said anything, they'll learn to keep their jaw closed."

She's intentionally given you many chances to run, night patrols where nobody could see you flee, missions in the least inhabitanted areas and as little enemies as possible, she starts to get frustrated when you come back loyally from each mission as if it wasn't obvious enough that she wanted you to leave.

It was just like the days you'd first met each other, and she knew it was because of her, Kelly made you feel safe and secure, the rock of security in this ocean of wild war and bodies.

She didn't wanna accept this fate of yours, if she could cry about it she'd have done it by now, so furious from everything that lead up to this point.

"Are you sure?"

She asks one night you both share dinner together like you'd both done before, not as good as your cooking but the rum burned away most of its bland taste anyway.

"Bout' what?"

"Staying...you can leave, you should leave, your a lousy soldier."

You laugh which only makes her more upset, you aren't supposed to find her insults funny, she's trying to gaslight you into freedom idiot.

"Would you leave with me?"

"...No. I'm too much of an asset to the Crown Army."

You hum and take another bite of food followed by a sip of rum, nose scrunching up in disdain followed by a cough, she had to admit she couldn't stop the chuckle that slipped through her teeth.

"Then I'm staying right here with you."

She could only sigh, gently leaning forward to bump her odd snout and teeth again the top of your head affectionately.

"Little moron you are, but alright."