#relamb

They did not go into town often. Packed into one of the white trucks in a way that always made her think of the small cans of sardines sitting untouched on the kitchen shelf. Which made her think of the keys and how when the driver took a turn too fast, God might decide to twist it and peel back the roof of the cab to shake them all loose.

Fortunately, He hadn't, yet, and she wondered if maybe He didn't like sardines either.

Something was happening in Fall's End, it was much busier than usual. She watched as the people who were smiling, stopped when they saw the truck, moving to the other side of the street. The driver, Isaiah, mumbled something, a verse or an irritated comment, as he navigated into an open spot beside a police cruiser. They weren't supposed to talk to people unless it was to share the Father's word, but the sheriff was standing in the shade of the grocers with one of the deputies, and she knew Isaiah couldn't resist. He'd grown up around Hope County, knew Whitehorse from way back. Secretly, Fox wondered if that's why he always offered to drive. He wasn't ready yet to let go of the life he had before. She never said anything to the Seeds because Isaiah was nice and sometimes he let her pick out chocolate on these rare trips. The others, however, she figured it was only a matter of time. There would be no more trips after that.

They spilled out of the car like sardines set free from a cage into a river of people. The others had their orders, their slips of paper with supplies written down, leaving her with Isaiah and Sheriff Earl and the one he introduced as Acacia. Her hair, hanging from it's pony tail, was the same color Fox always imagined that holy wood to be. It made her smile a little and emboldened her to speak where she was otherwise silent.

"How do you like Hope County?" She asked softly, gaze fleeting, not wanting to linger too long. "It is a good time of year, the end of summer."

Audrey doesn't leave the Ultra-Luxe very often. It's technically against their contract with Mr. House, outside of meetings and emergencies, but the Securitrons aren't advanced enough to recognize them without a mask. She's not the only one who makes her escapes; every family on the Strip has their own espionage operation.

Each casino has its own charms that keeps gamblers in and leaves the others with one less patron. Sometimes an undercover Chairman might throw a fit about unfair odds or an Omerta will start a fight with an unsuspecting Wastelander. The White Gloves are, of course, far more subtle in their little excursions- the fear of missing out is their bread and butter.

Her purposes are less vindictive, however. The only issue with The Diamond is that it's located on the second floor of the Ultra-Luxe. No one ever makes it that far unless they're staying the night. She can't have that, so she dolls herself up as nicely as she can, puts on her very best dress, and turns up the charm. Time to advertise.

— ah am fuckin calm, ah mean tae coo but seem tae hiss. ah’d coo if ah wis calm but rule one of being totally oot of control, oot me heid, is dinnae admit it, so, by rule of circumstance, AH. AM. CALM. zen, ah’d like tae argue.

deep breath in but it’s hard tae dae thit when you’re tryin tae be the face of calm n there’s a doubter (non bullshitter) in your midsts. ma chest is wavering, up and down, up and down, ma t shirt shallow on ma ribs. worry works its heavy way in thit the sweat will stick n show. ma breaths remain shaky, ah try tae speak against the pulling current. — whit the fuck makes it look like ah’m not?

burned  fields  of  bliss  blossoms  -  slaughtered  angels,  willing  tributes  taken  and  slain  where  they  stand.  is  it  anger,  paranoia  or  fear  that  breaks  faith's  tone?  (rather,  is  she  just  an  addict  losing  her  grasp  on  her  vice  of  choice?)  it's  everything:  she's  more  twitchy  than  usual.  quick  to  the  punch,  desperate  and  angry  with  the  woman  in  front  of  her  -  does  she  even  understand  what  this  means  to  her?

"all  ...  all  my  hard  work.  all  our  hard  work  -  !"  the  bliss  emanates  from  faith's  body,  and  she's  already  doused  her  audience  with  enough  to  keep  them  subdued  -  even  as  faith  grabs  her  by  the  shoulders,  mania  written  scribbled  into  bloodshot  eyes,  "it's  time  for  you  to  understand  -  this  is  bigger  than  you.  bigger  than  me  -  you  should  be  dead."

positivity for canon roles.

what we do in the shadows // Accepting!

"Are you comfortable like that?" Faith wonders out loud, almost to herself. "Are you comfortable in the stagnancy of accepting that you do bad things, or would you like to be better? Why accept and continue to do bad when you could be bettering yourself and those around you? The choice is yours~"

The  hit  comes  before  he  has  a  chance  to  register  it.        Like it was some kind of reflex on her behalf. Cheek meets teeth and causes the skin to split, blood pooling into his mouth as he takes a moment to look toward the ground. He isn’t weak. He isn’t going to feel the searing pain spreading through the left side of his face. The weak get culled. Instead, he spits, claret liquid staining the sunbleached grass beneath his feet.

❛ i never meant to hurt you. ❜    @relamb​

That’s enough to cause a grin to break out on his face. As his chin tilts up to meet her, it is clear the amusement doesn’t reach his eyes. A hand reaches up, pad of his thumb wiping away the blood drip from his mouth.