The First Light

shackledsculs replied to your post:

Fetch vc: you tryin’ to say somehtin’

“Only  that  you  get  even  hotter  when  you  get  angry  -   really,   you  could  say  you  practically  glow  when  you’re  out  there  raging.“

   ❝Me helping out might bring more trouble. Ever think of that?❞ It was a staunch reminder to him, all of a sudden. Her, the state of the world, conduits, the government–not much had changed. Except for him. His own name had grew infamously, being either a beacon of hope to the people or an enemy and tool to be used by those behind the curtains of the world. And far be it for him to fight the entire world government all at once, when they realized he was back. The idea alone was making his skin itch.

  ❝We both know I’m different. That this whole shebang was jump-started by me and that bomb in Empire city. Government is gonna’ want to use me, now that the “biggest bastard” is dead.❞ His voice remained calm, but held a steady firmness to it, his cadence finding a familiar home in this flavor of team-work. He leaned off of the wall, approaching her while keeping eye contact the entire time. ❝Would you be ready for that? Would Seattle? To fight against all of that?❞

   Something along the lines of a smile bloomed on his face, finding a comfort in testing the bravado of a fellow conduit. It felt like old times.  ❝I don’t ever need a break. But you shook things up too. You and the others here. …Sure you’re up for the ass kicking they might give back?❞

“You kiddin’? I’ve been kickin’ ass since I was twelve. Besides, me, Delsin and Eugene are more than ready to handle ourselves. And I’m sure there’s other conduits who share our sentiment. But we ain’t warlords and all that shit. So hopefully we don’t have to fight each other to just try and keep everything peaceful between us and the normal people, you know? I don’t wanna have to fight other conduits, y’know? We’re already in enough danger.”

Fetch could handle fighting drug dealers, and the remnants of the DUP. She’d tossed around plenty of those people. Had a hell of a lot of fun doing it too. But she wasn’t stupid to think that everything would be okay overnight. After all, there was still a lot of shit conduits needed to worry about. They weren’t an army, and they sure as hell weren’t immortal. That wasn’t even getting into the conduits who were children, some had probably spent a good chunk of their lives in Curdin Cay, and were attempting to learn how to cope with their newfound freedom. 

Aight, so I wanna give Fetch a seaside house, where she gets to rest.

It’s not too fancy, but she’d also keep a dog or two. That and she has her place set up with a decent tv as well as a few old school game consoles. She’s not overly interested in modern games like that. It’s mostly a place for her to invite people over as well as have some semblance of a normal life. 

bloodied knuckles  ･  tear stained cheeks  ･  rust  ･  a busted lip  ･  claws  ･  fangs  ･  a bloody nose  ･  chattering teeth  ･  a dark space underneath the bed  ･  scratching noises on a wall  ･  creaking metal  ･  fog  ･  dancing under moonlight ･  blood dripping lips  ･  heavy breathing in the dark  ･  a feeling of unexplained dread ･  a figure in a dark corner ･  dirty peeling wallpaper  ･  a bloody handprint on the wall  ･  sobbing in the dark  ･  bite marks on the skin  ･  eerie whispers  ･ a hood covering a stranger’s eyes  ･  the growl of a hidden animal  ･  the sound of a blade being sharpened  ･  a deep, dark forest  ･  walking on the streets alone at night  ･  a cobweb-filled, abandoned building  ･  eyes darting in paranoia ･  a heavy beating pulse  ･  the feeling of being trapped ･ struggling to get out a scream  ･  boards covering broken windows  ･  a quiet graveyard  ･  a gas station in the middle of nowhere  ･  a road that never ends ･  heavy fog rolling in  ･  the scent of blood in the air  ･  eerie old photographs  ･ walking along train tracks at night ･  a chill going up the spine ･ gathering crows ･  a dusty, dimly lit study  ･  mist over a deserted cobblestone street ･  ghost towns  ･  shadows around a campfire  ･ the sound of chanting ･  church bells tolling  ･  an orange harvest moon  ･  a broken down carnival  ･  a dirty stuffed animal abandoned  ･  wiping bloody hands on fabric  ･  nightmares  ･ waking up in a panic  ･ a power outage ･ heavy lightning storms  ･ a secret trap door  ･  the feeling of being watched  ･  fear from trauma  ･  a ouija board set out on a table  ･  an eerie doll  ･  a scream of anguish& pain ･ withered plants ･ a room that’s been forgotten & gathered dust  ･  owl eyes in the dark  ･  curled, dead tree branches  ･  a ritual altar  ･  flickering candles  ･  a lantern held up in the dark  ･  fear of being followed  ･ creaking floorboards  ･  repressed, horrible memories  ･  clenched teeth  ･ soft, echoing piano keys ･  an old book covered in dust  ･  many pairs of glaring eyes  ･  stumbling in pitch black darkness  ･  being stranded in the middle of nowhere  ･  tarot cards on a table  ･  a trail of blood

tagged by: @twiceasbright

   ❝Wait–what? A conduit put other conduits in jail?❞ There was a momentary inability to believe her, not quite accepting the idea of their kind working for the government. But the fact was, he couldn’t have been the only one that figures like Moya would have approached. She was long dead, but her agency and the rest of the government wasn’t. 

   God only knows how many they managed to snag into their clutches, with the promise of protection, wealth or more power. Maybe even a chance just to stay–alive.

   He kicked lightly at a stray pebble, a ghost of a laugh made as he set his back against a cobblestone wall. ❝And here I thought everything would be fixed after that damn RFI. …Shoulda’ known.❞ A profound bitterness struck his tongue, paired up with a keen sadness that kneaded into his face as he looked towards Fetch. ❝I’m sorry. I should’ve… I wish I had been here–to help. I mean, this is.. all my fault anyhow.❞

“Hey now, don’t go down that road. You can’t be burnin’ yourself for other people’s shit. We all got choices to make, sometimes the choices people make are fucked up, but we gotta live with ‘em. Augustine did what she did outta some fucked up belief that she was protectin’ us. But hey, now that she’s gone, we can start fixin’ shit.”

Fetch knew something of what he was going through. Feeling guilty because of how your actions affected others. She had felt that a lot when Brett was alive. With how much her drug habit had affected him, how their addiction threatened to tear them apart more than once. 

   ❝Don’t apologize. Should see the places I sleep at.❞ ‘Places’ being either the ground, a rooftop or an unsold apartment. Sleeping rough was something he was used to, the narrative irony of it all not missing a beat upon his head. The supposed “saint” back from the dead, but ashamed to come out of hiding. 

   Only reason he was here was to see if it was true. If conduits were still alive and thriving. This was a risk, but one he was willing to take. 

   ❝…So–you’re the… “laser girl”, yeah? The one with the neon stuff?❞ The comments regarding growing up with stories about him were mostly ignored, not quite sure how to even process that. He was still shocked that people were sticking with a title other than, “The Demon of Empire City.” 

“Yep, that’s me! Just call me Fetch, s’what my friends call me. Sorry, I’ve just...Never expected to meet you. There’s a lotta conduits, but we only recently got people out. Had to go through a lotta hell to do so though. Guess the real fucked up irony about it was that it was a conduit who put us in jail, you know?”

Fetch crossed her arms. She’d have to look into getting an apartment or something. That sure as hell beat roughing it. Maybe near the chowder shack too. That and she also missed the joys of having a shower. Plus, she could have company over without worrying about privacy.