& there is ONE BLAZING MOMENT in which you finally understand that there was no dragon. that there was no vader. that there was only you. ONLY ANAKIN SKYWALKER. that it was all you— is you. only you. YOU DID IT. #JEDICIDE.

HER BREATH SHOWS IN THE NIGHT AIR LIKE CIGARETTE SMOKE, fingers near-trembling as they ready her rifle. she reaches towards him — silently asking for a clip from his pack.

WORKING TOGETHER AGAIN. IT'S JUST LIKE OLD TIMES. [@libertycities: frank woods]

brow quirks; she allows herself a glance upward to gauge his expression. truth be told, there were few people, if any in this world who truly knew helen — frank came close. too close. she folds inward and is reminded: they share a lot of the same sins. their hands are stained the same shade of sanguine.

"i wouldn't exactly say our last gig was worth a trip down memory lane — i'm not feeling particularly nostalgic." see translation: [i've spent a lot of time trying to forget what we did to that woman for cause and country.] she turns away from him, coat rustling as she settles onto her stomach in the snow, soft and frigid. gaze to scope. she's quiet for a long time, before: "i don't see anyone. i think we should get closer." their objective is clear: watch from afar. take a shot if they can get a line of sight on the target. infiltration is not a two agent task. but helen's on lease — the lended gun — and they aren't just any two agents. even still, his boss is fewer phone calls away...

"—— unless you'd like to ask daddy for permission first?"

watching her settle into the snow, he scans the area— searching for any sign of movement in the darkness but spotting no figures. a warehouse rests to the left, most likely housing foreign material. nuclear, one could presume, but not explicitly stated. not until the warehouse had been breached. “ fuck. getting closer's risky— but i trust your call, park. ” hudson's orders had been clear from the beginning, but at her jibe about asking for permission, he chuckles. a deep, rumbling sound that seems out of place in the still night.

and that’s your biggest worry?

the whole world becomes sick all at once.

i presume the prospect of a viral pandemic keeps you up at night as well.

well, now there is reason to evolve.

i was gonna’ make you birthday pancakes.

you know i don’t really like pancakes.

you’re still alive, you old fucker.

he’s dependent on me. not the same.

i’m not splittin’ this job.

i barely wanna split it with you.

we could work a double.

i’ll bring back a cake.

shit. hope for us yet.

can’t tell you how exciting it was listenin’ to that fuckin’ conversation.

i swear you will use this later in life.

hey, is everything okay? like, on the news?

there was just a lot of police and stuff on the road today.

people out there need to get right with jesus.

i was thinkin’ we’d make some cookies.

you wanna’ give me a hand?

you locked the door for once. good job.

that doesn’t mean anything to you, i’m sorry.

i’ll get us one tomorrow. 

you got me a present?

where’d you get the money for this?

i sell hardcore drugs.

it’s better than what i do.

i could’ve stolen 60, but i put the change back because i’m an honest thief.

besides, it’s the thought that counts.

you were never gonna do it for yourself, so.

but i’m in jail. 

wasn’t my fault this time!

look, it doesn’t fuckin’ matter.

it’s a fuckin’ madhouse, [name].

get in the truck! right now!

we’re gonna’ be brave, and we’re gonna’ get outta this.

[name], you get back inside the house!

they’re saying it’s a virus— some kind of parasite.

minute ago, newsman wouldn’t shut up.

how do you know we’re not sick?

they’re saying it’s mostly people in the city.

somebody else’ll come along.

fuck! everybody had the same fuckin’ idea.

i can’t get through this.

son of a bitch, gotta’ go around. grab somethin’!

i can’t drive through ‘em all.

there’s nowhere to fuckin’ go!

easy now. we’re not sick!

we’re gonna get you somewhere safe first. 

i gotta’ get you up.

there’s gonna be a little tickle right here. 

or i could just shoot you. 

yeah, but then what would you do?

i just know they’re real.

pills and bullets, bullets and pill.

well, the more you shoot people, the harder it is to sleep, i guess.

i need the bag back.

hey, do yourself a favor… stay off the streets for the next few nights.

fuckin’ fireflies been blowin’ shit up all week.

two of our guys got shot this morning. 

it’s easy to make a mistake in the dark. 

what do you want me to say, [name]?

it’s not like i planned on… rippin’ you off.

how about we just let it go?

what else are you gonna’ do?

you gonna’ keep me here? kill me?

i want you to forget this ever happened.

i paid you for it, you sold it to someone else, and you spent my money. 

i mean, you think i’ve never done shit like that?

my guys fucked you up.

you cut off a finger or whatever the fuck you want— i don’t care.

they’re your fuckin’ guys. 

i give you my word that he won’t hurt you.

they’re shooting. they’re shooting at us. 

one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, fuck… you. 

hey, people are gonna come looking for me!

let me out or you’re gonna pay, motherfuckers!

i’m not supposed to be here!

is there any chance it’s comin’ in at night?

it’s never taken him more than a day to respond.

you’re a capable guy, but there are worse things than infected out there.

i got jumped by a couple guys. 

you know these guys were born after the outbreak. never learned how to argue, they just start swingin’. 

it’s a miracle you’re alive. 

it’s a miracle any of us are alive. 

nothing’s lost. shit like this is gonna’ happen. 

now we just shake it off, and we go get our cards back, or the battery. 

okay, fuck it, we get our money back and the battery. 

but i would very much like for you to hurt him. 

let’s go hunt that motherfucker down. 

my answer is to follow fuckin’ orders.

why do you have some random girl locked in a room?

we are in a war against a military dictatorship to restore democracy and freedom.

are we winning?

you tell me to look for the light and i’ll break your jaw.

how about we start with thank you?

i am the one who told ‘em not to shoot you, if you recall.

you that anxious to be a soldier?

you think i chose that place?

they put me there when i was a baby. it’s for orphans. 

you my fucking mom or something?

do i look like your mom?

why won’t you let me go home?

you have a greater purpose than any of us could’ve ever imagined.

what i’m going to tell you cannot be repeated to anyone. because if you do, i assure you, you will die. 

take it he wasn’t down here last time?

you think he came down after he was infected?

it’s like they reframed the whole structure. 

what the fuck? someone put a piano in front of this?

war must be goin’ pretty shitty for you to be buying from scumbags like him. 

he obviously didn’t take fuck off for an answer. 

i need it for a better reason than you do. 

you’re the cause of it. you turned my own brother against me. 

we won’t make it anywhere like this. not for a while anyway. 

oh, you don’t have time?

i know what you’re capable of— for better or worse. 

my team will not jeopardize that. 

remember what i told you?

the radio’s a smuggling code, right?

i’ve never been on the other side of the wall.

so, what’s the deal with you anyway?

you some kinda bigwig’s daughter or somethin’?

holy shit, i’m actually outside.

you stay close and you follow my lead. 

okay, let’s talk this out. 

yep. we’re doin’ this by the book.

you would’ve killed me!

i should fucking kill you!

it doesn’t matter! you have to trust me!

“dude, you inhaled secondhand smoke, you’re not going to jail.”

despite his gaudy, and perhaps over-the-top outward appearance, anyone who knew johnny gat could say he possessed quite the composed personality.   so it was odd, and even out of place, to see him so riled up, his usual laidback smirk turned stormy and blackened by the encroaching clouds of the wrath bubbling at the back of his stomach.   like a volcano, readying itself to explode.     “you wanna tell me truth now, lamar?”     his pacing was feverish, back and forth, in front of his desk, before it all came to a halt…   johnny quit his nervous walking, and sat down atop the mahogany counter, arms crossed in front of his chest.

@libertycities SC.

SHE FEIGNS SERIOUSNESS FOR BLAIR'S SAKE; A PERFORMANCE ALMOST ENTIRELY WASTED ON THE BACK OF HER HEAD. soft features barely react to her whirlwind of words — was that a compliment? answer: cue the backhand. serena turns the other cheek with a cherry flavored lip glossed grin. "ah," — tone dripping with purposeful saccharin // just enough to churn one's stomach, "you know: this level of insecurity isn't really new-and-improved-blair of you." a beat of silence between them allows for a sip of her green goddess smoothie. it also gives her a second to rethink her approach. dial it back, serena. be supportive. the alternative threatens a juicy headline: CLAWS OUT AGAIN! OUR FAVORITE 'BESTIES' SPILL BLOOD OVER GREEK YOGURT. [ yeah, that'd be sure to rake in the clicks. serena prefers her artists starving. the ones who like to air her dirty laundry out for the better part of nyc to take a sniff, anyway. once again, fuck you, gossip girl. ] "besides, what do you have on him that'd be worth the risk of admission fraud, anyway? sex tape? mistress? ... sex tape featuring the mistress?" she nudges blair's arm with her own; a playful gesture, though the brunette's monologue still echos.

your future is secured for you. you don't have to work for anything. smile, serena. let the pieces fall into place.

fuck the pieces! fuck the whole board! she'd rather be drinking mojitos in bali. somewhere far away from anyone who knows who the hell serena van der woodsen even is. the thought comes with a twinge of guilt. there are people out there who'd kill to be you, while you'd give anything to be allowed to crawl out of your own skin.

but the moment the question is asked of blair's plan, her eyes light up like the cityscape at twilight. all is forgotten and forgiven! (at least for the moment.) she's beaming and glimmering, just like the sun radiating on them. “ trust me, if i had a sex tape on him, you would've been the first person i called. ” without hesitation, her fingers dip into her purse and retrieve her blackberry curve, pulling up the most recent picture on her camera roll. dean berube, donned in a black suit and tie, wrapped in the arms of another fellow man inside the sapphire club on 60th street. a silhouette can be made out, a red scarf wrapped around the neck of the other male— blair holds her index finger out in serena's face: hold please! another swipe is taken, another photo is revealed and so is mystery man's face: chuck bass. two birds, one stone. a win-win for the weekly rendition of the blair witch project.