#the newcomer

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This mob consists of several contract-killers, spies/informants, and Black Market merchants. The Boss will often assign the mob’s members to dispatch specific targets, but the aforementioned members are still able to take on hit-jobs if they’re approached by outside clients. 

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They’ve long-since claimed the Cove Port Inlets (a quaint seaside city) as their territory. The Inlets used to have an expansive subway system, but those underground tunnels were abandoned due to a bad flood; thus, the above-ground stations were repurposed into varying shops/houses. However, each of those former stations are still connected to the subway tunnels via concrete staircases (which are now carefully hidden). The former stations have all been purchased by The Pentas Family—now, the mob’s representatives either live in or work out of them. As a bonus, the abandoned security offices/subway platforms are used as underground dens/hidey-holes, and the tunnels offer discreet movement beneath the city. 

There’s no enforced dress-code, but it’s still advised that Pentas representatives wear red. The red garments in question can be any type of clothing so long as it’s visible, and they can vary from shade to shade. 

In the event that the mob gains an ally (not a new member), that ally will be provided with an enamel pin designed to look like a poison dart frog. This dart frog pin will act as an identification device for Pentas members who somehow may be unaware of the new alliance; that way, the ally won’t be mistaken for an intruder. (The dart frog pin can also be used as a warning sign for unallied outsiders—basically, This person is under Pentas protection; screw around with them and YOU WILL REGRET IT.) 

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The Boss [NAME TBA]

Who She’s Based Off Of: Pamela Horton (PamelaHorton13)

Red Attire: Collarbone tattoo of Egyptian star flowers, aka Pentas lanceolata

Notes:

[INFORMATION TBA]

Current Stories: [TBA]

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Murdock Mallory

Who He’s Based Off Of: Mark Fischbach (Markiplier)

His Method of Work: Honestly, he’s a jack-of-all-trades. Oh sure, he has an unhealthy amount of knowledge on different types of blades, but that’s just the beginning. Pretty much anything can be a weapon, depending on how creative (read: insane) you are. He also knows his way around firearms, but for...personal reasons, he only uses them when there are no other options available.

Red Attire: Turtleneck sweater (Currant)

Notes:

He has a rare case of eye-misalignment. Specifically speaking, his right eye is turned to the right (as though he’s looking at something sideways). His left eye can move around in its socket as intended, but his right eye never follows along with that movement. According to him, the misalignment was caused by a traumatic accident he experienced before he’d joined The Pentas Family (apparently, it’s a miracle he wasn’t rendered half-blind). When he’s working on underground business, he wears his sunglasses. But when he’s keeping up appearances in normal society, he wears a white medical eyepatch.

Both his black-tinted sunglasses and brass necklace are trophies from his earliest kills. (Yes, I will try to go more in-depth with this idea in the future.)

He was the first official member of The Pentas Family, and has since earned a reputation for being The Boss’ right-hand-man. (Notice: I don’t have the backstory/relationship between the two of them completely nailed down yet. But what I do know for sure is that THEY ARE NOT ROMANTICALLY INVOLVED WHATSOEVER. NOBODY IN THIS MOB IS.)

He's a legit bird-whisperer. I’ve seen plenty other people post about him chilling with crows or ravens, and that’s already perfect, but I think adding more birds in general to the mix would make it even better. Chickens, ducks, sparrows, cockatiels, parakeets, pigeons, etc. Even GEESE tend to be calm around him (which could count as a sign of something being wrong with him). It’s not uncommon for him to spend his off-time at the park feeding the birds he claims to have technically adopted.

He lives out of a houseboat docked near the quiet part of the beach. He’s not above driving it long distances across the water when he needs to travel for his work.

If his scene in ISWM Part 2 was anything to go by, he enjoys making morbid jokes/puns. Ironically, he tends to get dissapointed or annoyed whenever other people make morbid jokes/puns. He and Caliban have gotten into arguments (with varying degrees of violence) over puns on at least three separate occasions.

He’s currently acting as a mentor to The Newcomer. It’s his responsibility to teach them and introduce them to the other Pentas members.

Current Stories: (Goretober 2022) Day 2: Cannibalism, Running on Empty, God, Being an Accessory to Murder is Exhausting, Update the Letter Board!, (Goretober 2023) Day 3: Broken Bones, (Goretober 2023) Day 4: Amputation, (Goretober 2023) Day 7: Needles, Bloody Tricks and Even Bloodier Treats, (Goretober 2024) Day 2: Operation, (Goretober 2024) Day 5: Submerged 

The Newcomer

Who They’re Based Off Of: The Reader (Y/N)

Their Method of Work: They haven’t developed a personal signature quite yet. As of right now, they’re content with just assisting Murdock and the rest of The Pentas Family. They’ve got a surprising/disturbing amount of competence, but they’re still a rookie; therefore, they still have some things to learn.

Red Attire: Leather gloves (Scarlet)

Notes:

[INFORMATION TBA]

Current Stories: (Goretober 2022) Day 2: Cannibalism, Toxic Tutorials, (Goretober 2024) Day 4: Burst Vessels

Caliban Crawford

Who He’s Based Off Of: Matthew Patrick/MatPat (Game/Film/Food/Style Theory)

His Method of Work: He acts as one of The Pentas Family’s many body-disposal resources (if they disposed of bodies in just one way, they’d risk gathering concentrated amounts of evidence). His particular technique for disposal is good ol’ fashioned cannibalism.

Red Attire: Leather jacket (Crimson)

Notes:

Aside from the body-disposal stuff, he’ll often help other Pentas members navigate the Black Market. He’s also invaluable when it comes to organizing certain trading events. He’s a cannibal, sure, but he also knows just how much of a pretty penny human organs can make. (Besides, not all body parts are safe for consumption; brains, eyeballs, intestines, and bones for example.)

Cannibal puns 24/7. The subtlety—or lack thereof—with which he delivers these puns can vary, depending on the situation he’s in. (“I’ve been told I have a great taste in people.” “If anyone’s a humanitarian, it’s me!” “I am what I eat, after all. . .” etc.) 

He has a pet leucistic hare named Snare (somewhat inspired by Matt’s childhood pet bunny, Sunny). As hares are proven omnivores/scavengers, it just makes sense for Caliban to spoil Snare by feeding him human fingers as treats (highly inspired by Monty Python’s Killer Rabbit).

He has an ENORMOUS collection of butcher knives and medical blades, because of course he does. His favorite of them all is a damascus steel cleaver, which he frequently carries in his jacket pocket as his primary weapon.

There’s a silver tooth cap in the place of his upper left canine. He lost said canine when one of his victims surprised him by grabbing his tenderizing hammer and hitting him in the mouth with it as they tried to escape (this also left a small, jagged scar on the left side of his upper lip). Obviously, Caliban recovered from this. But the person who knocked his tooth out? Not so much. . .

His house is located in the downtown area, and is connected to the abandoned subway tunnels. He’s basically turned the old security office into a basement-kitchen setup.

(If you’d like to see some awesome artwork of this character, please go here and show the artist some appreciation!)

Current Stories: (Goretober 2022) Day 2: Cannibalism, Running on Empty, God, Being an Accessory to Murder is Exhausting,  What’s That Saying About Cinnamon Rolls. . ?, (Goretober 2023) Day 3: Broken Bones, (Goretober 2023) Day 4: Amputation, (Goretober 2023) Day 7: Needles, Bloody Tricks and Even Bloodier Treats, TCoTOS: Part 1, TCoTOS: Part 2, TCoTOS: Part 3, TCoTOS: Part 4, TCoTOS: Epilogue, (Goretober 2024) Day 2: Operation

Azalea Crawford

Who She’s Based Off Of: Rosanna Pansino (Nerdy Nummies)

Her Method of Work: She knows pretty much everything there is to know about poison. Toxic plants, venomous animals, man-made chemicals, you name it. The collection she keeps for hit-jobs and the like goes way, way beyond your typical arsenic. She even has a greenhouse full of deadly plants (including her namesake, obviously) in her backyard. When she’s on the clock, she’ll usually take care of targets by slipping poisons into a nice little baked goodie. Azalea’s not squeamish about needles, but this is easier and more discreet.

Red Attire: Headband (Cherry)

Notes:

This lovely lady is Caliban’s sister, and shares a strong sibling bond with him. (In fact, she actually taught Caliban a lot of what he knows about cooking. Sure, it took a bit of trial-and-error for some recipes to work with human flesh, but it just be like that sometimes.)

She has a pet scarlet kingsnake named Cuddles. Scarlet kingsnakes are harmless, but they specifically evolved to mimic the coloration of coral snakes, which are infamously venomous. Azalea understands the irony of this perfectly. She also understands how easy it is for people to mix up the color patterns, so, of course, she’ll occasionally handle Cuddles purely for confusion/intimidation.

She’s the owner/head chef of Aftertaste, a popular restaurant/bar, in order to help keep up appearances for The Pentas Family. The building is connected to the abandoned subway tunnels. 

If any Pentas members decide to use poison for a hit-job, then they need to go to Azalea for help. She’s one of very, very few people who can be trusted to use such dangerous substances properly. (But sometimes, even mobsters aren’t immune to hubris. So, Azalea keeps a stockpile of antidotes/painkillers in order to fix certain mistakes.)

She’s the reason Caliban was able to adopt Snare. She found the hare in the basement of one of her past targets (who was the leader of an exotic animal trafficking ring); he reminded her of her brother, so she ended up giving him to Caliban as a present.

(If you’d like to see some awesome artwork of this character, please go here and show the artist some appreciation!)

Current Stories: What’s That Saying About Cinnamon Rolls. . ?, Update the Letter Board!,  Toxic Tutorials, (Goretober 2023) Day 3: Broken Bones, (Goretober 2023) Day 7: Needles, Bloody Tricks and Even Bloodier Treats

K.O. [Kaiser Oasis]

Who He’s Based Off Of: Ethan Nestor (CrankGamePlays)

His Method of Work: Whether he’s in the arena, defending himself and his peers, or extracting information from enemies, K.O. packs a major wallop. Not only that, but his stamina is roughly on-par with that of a mongoose fueled by a few too many Pixie Sticks. . . He was discovered by The Pentas Family shortly after The Boss decided to branch out into the underground fighting business.

Red Attire: Fluctuates between shorts for when he’s out of the arena, and boxing trunks for when he’s in the arena (Amaranth)

Notes:

Despite being a mobster, he’s a surprisingly courteous fighter. Yeah, he pummels his opponents, but that’s literally what career-fighting is all about. Now, on the other hand: if you’ve personally wronged him or someone he cares about, or if he catches wind that you’re going to try and cheat your way through a match with him. . .well, I wouldn’t count on him having too much self-restraint. 

Ironically, K.O. also serves as a medic for The Pentas Family. It took some time and practice, of course, but he’s gotten pretty damn good at patching up stab/bullet wounds and resetting broken bones. (It’s not uncommon to get bumps and bruises in the underground business, and going to a normal hospital is typically a big no-no, since the staff there would likely ask too many questions about certain injuries.) 

While he only wraps his hands for his fighting matches, he’s still not above occasionally using brass knuckles—which he has affectionately named Francis and J.P.—for interrogation or message-sending assignments. 

Though he’ll sometimes travel for certain assignments, K.O. usually represents The Pentas Family at a place called The WormRoll: roller skating rink by day, hidden-in-plain-sight fighting arena by night. The building is connected to the abandoned subway tunnels, and K.O. has made his personal platform-office-den into a training room.

Before and after his matches, he wears a black robe with a picture of a peacock mantis shrimp embroidered on the back. (When K.O. first joined The Pentas Family, Murdock commissioned a sewing artist to make said robe as a welcoming gift for him. Yes, Francis and J.P. were included in that gift.)

He’s multilingual; he can speak English, French, Portuguese, and Italian on a conversational level. This obviously means a lot of foreign swearing when he’s frustrated/angry. He has no trace of an accent from any of those languages, and none of his peers know why or how he picked them up in the first place. K.O., being the gremlin he is, doesn’t plan to explain anytime soon. (Plus, he can’t not be a little smug about being the only Italian-speaking member of a mob. Just like how he can't not use that to tease Murdock.)

Y’know creepy-crawly lollipops? Yes, the ones that have a cricket or some other insect frozen inside. Those are K.O.’s favorite candy. Unless he’s in the ring, he’s almost always got one in his pocket. (On a slightly more humorous note: sometimes he’ll make a small show of pretending that the lollipop sticks are cigarettes.)

Current Stories: (Goretober 2023) Day 3: Broken Bones, (Goretober 2023) Day 7: Needles, Bloody Tricks and Even Bloodier Treats, (Goretober 2024) Day 2: Operation

Garret Wyre

Who He’s Based Off Of: Mick Lauer 

His Method of Work: If there’s two things to be said about Garret, it’s that he has a pair of big, strong hands, and he knows how to use them. You could argue that “Everyone knows how to use their hands, idiot.” To which I say. . .first of all, chill out. Words can hurt. Second of all, not everyone can make a career out of strangling people. But Garret most certainly has. That being said, he knows when to use other tools  (ropes, scarves, cords, stuff like that) to get the job done. He knows he can’t realistically rely on his hands for each and every one of his assignments. In any case, the day his grip isn’t firm is the day he’s not Garret.

Red Attire: Scarf (Maroon)

Notes:

Garret brings a complex vibe to The Pentas Family. His disposition is stern, but he knows to be patient with the other members. Despite this, he’s always a bit. . .fidgety. Restless. He has a hard time sitting still, and an even harder time not giving people the side-eye or glancing over his shoulder. In fact, the only times he seems genuinely calm and self-assured is when he’s choking the life out of his targets. Sure, he still acts aggressively toward said targets, but there’s no denying just how soft and quiet his voice becomes when he taunts them.

His hobbies outside of mob work include knitting and sewing. It just seems to ease his nerves a bit. He even made the very scarf he wears whenever he’s working on Pentas business. This also bleeds into the fact that Garret is on the superstitious side. Half of his sewing/knitting projects involve making voodoo dolls of those who screw around with The Pentas Family. He treats said dolls a lot like stress toys, often patching them up after bashing their stuffing out only to do it all over again sooner or later.

He very much believes in the concept of luck. Quite ironic, considering he was born on a Tuesday The 13th (look it up; apparently those are even worse than Friday The 13ths). He doesn’t bother with all the chakra-crystal-incense stuff, but he does keep a glass Evil Eye charm in one pocket, as well a miniature horseshoe in the other. He never goes directly home right after taking care of a target. He avoids the number four like the plague. He makes sure his right foot is leading whenever he enters a room. Et cetera, et cetera. 

One of the few superstitions he doesn’t believe in is black cats being harbingers of doom. In fact, he adores black cats. Particularly Juju, a stray black kitten he adopted after a very last-minute, impromptu hit-job.

He’s the manager of Itchy Palms, a popular casino on the edge of The Cove Port Inlet’s uptown area. The building is connected to the abandoned subway tunnels. And it’s safe to say that Garret knows. His. Business. He knows how to play each and every game, as well as several ways to cheat at each and every game without giving said cheating away. His outlook on fairness is. . .unconventional.

Current Stories: (Goretober 2024) Day 4: Burst Vessels

Parker Thenope

Who He’s Based Off Of: Nathan Sharp (NateWantsToBattle/Give Heart Records)

His Method of Work: There are several ways to be adept in water. Such as holding a person under it until they stop moving, or drenching a person over and over again until they give up the information you need. Which is exactly how Parker earns his keep. His assignments often involve haunting the local beach—or, more precisely, the cluster of shallow sea-caves along the beach’s edges. But in a pinch, he’s willing to use pools/hot tubs/etc. to his advantage (it just means he’ll have to be clever with how he goes about the job). 

Red Attire: Face-mask (Carmine) 

Notes:

Parker is the personification of “it’s always the quiet ones who snap the loudest.” Sure, he’s cooperative and understanding toward his peers in The Pentas Family, but underneath his chill, humorous, nonchalant veil lurks a bit of a ticking time-bomb. As a child, it was constantly drilled into him to camouflage his real emotions, to always appear calm and collected on the outside. If you’ve done something to majorly piss him off, then really, your only chance is to hide and hope he doesn’t find you. 

Fittingly enough, his hobbies include swimming. He learned at a very young age, so, it’s safe to say that he’s excellent at following the flow of water, holding his breath for generous periods of time, etc. And who can blame him? It’s a lot of fun, it’s great exercise, and it allows him to have the upper hand whenever he happens to also be in the water while taking care of a target.

When it comes to anything music-related, he’s incredibly skilled. Not only does he have a lovely singing voice, but he’s an expert on playing guitar, drums, and even the piano on occasion. Music is a very effective form of stress-relief, and he’s been using it as such long before he entered the underground business. 

He’s very familiar with Ear Caffeine, a music studio in the Cove Port Inlets. He works there as a songwriter/lyricist, as well as a session musician, though he’s now basically in charge of the place ever since its former owners disappeared into thin air. (The building is connected to the abandoned subway tunnels, and Parker was instrumental—pun vERY MUCH INTENDED—to The Pentas Family claiming it as part of their territory.)  

On top of that, Parker also owns Chord Craft, a combination of record store and instrument-repair shop on the side. He was the head-honcho over there before he was welcomed into the mob, and while he’s since hired more people to run it, he still cares for it. 

Even before he joined The Pentas Family, he made a point to wear a face mask every day (he sees the red one he wears now as an upgrade). He only ever takes it off when he’s swimming or sleeping. He doesn’t have any scars to cover up; he just finds comfort in personal anonymity. 

He’s learned to consider all the different ways decomposition can work in watery areas. Just because his signature is to drown targets doesn’t mean he can always afford to just leave their bodies floating. It’s not uncommon for him to seek out Murdock, arranging to take a ride on the hitman’s houseboat in order to dump certain bodies far out from the Inlets’ boundaries. 

Current Stories: (Goretober 2024) Day 5: Submerged 

Val Ocitie 

Who They’re Based Off Of: Lio Tipton

Their Method of Work: Tommy guns may be rare nowadays, but that isn’t a problem for Val. Their hidden arsenal is already impressive enough; you could say they have many, many neutral specials. Sure, they can see the appeal of blades and other deadly stuff, but guns are fast, efficient, and most importantly of all, devastating. (Especially if a silencer is involved. Ooh, does that help thicken the plot.) Don’t screw around with them or their family unless you want to cosplay as swiss cheese. 

Red Attire: Chainmail bracelet (Vermillion) 

Notes:

Val has long-since learned to thrive in chaos, to the point of outright craving it. Sometimes they see underground business as a game. While their attitude is usually excitable around those they trust, their energy can turn aggressive in a heartbeat. They’re the type to get up in an enemy’s face, wearing a false, icy grin all the while.

Along with the hit-jobs they're assigned, Val is responsible for supplying The Pentas Family's firepower. Similar to how Caliban is an expert in organ-trafficking, Val knows the ins and outs of the illegal weapons trade. They've rearranged their personal gun collection several times now, selling and exchanging certain models to avoid leaving any patterns in their work.

Once upon a time, Val worked for a different mob; one that wasn’t exactly on good terms with The Pentas Family. Well, things ended up falling apart, and Val found themself at the mercy of Murdock and his peers. Of course, things were rocky at first. . .but somehow, Val eventually realized that they felt some kind of kinship with them. It took some time, but they were welcomed in, and are now following Pentas operations with strong loyalty.

They grew up somewhat rural, learning how to handle guns at a pretty young age. Though their family wasn’t poor, hunting game animals for food was still a big tradition that they helped to carry on. They don’t really do that kind of hunting anymore, but they still take monthly trips to shooting ranges in order to practice with clay pigeons. 

They’re the only Pentas member who doesn’t live in/work out of a building that’s connected to the abandoned subway tunnels. Instead, they live in a tidy cabin located in Reilpi Woods, a huge forest about a fifteen-minute drive from the Cove Port Inlet’s city limits. Not that Val minds, though; the area gives them nostalgia. While they can appreciate all the conveniences of more urban environments, they’ve always enjoyed being surrounded by trees. Besides, it’s not like they don’t know where all the secret entrances to the underground dens are.

They’re a natural when it comes to evaluating another person’s character. It’s an important skill to have in this line of work, especially considering how the work is question is very much illegal. Despite their uncertain start in The Pentas Family, it hasn’t taken much time at all for Val to learn each of the other members inside and out. . .well, except for The Newcomer. (For now, at least.)

Current Stories: [TBA]

Two-Toes Johnny [Johnathan Shine]

Who He’s Based Off Of: Bob Muyskens (Muyskerm)

His Method of Work: Though he’s not really a hitman, he still knows his way around interrogation and message-sending. His weapon/tool of choice is a baseball bat that was apparently an heirloom he just so happened to inherit as a teenager. It might not look like much, but neither will those who anger The Pentas Family (or their clients) after Johnny uses it to beat them black and blue.

Red Attire: Belt (Tawny Port)

Notes:

Now, to address the elephant in the room: yes, he actually does only have two toes. The right big-toe and the left middle-toe, to be specific. All that’s left of the other eight are scars, and exactly how he lost them is a total mystery. Sure, he might vaguely rant about the incident(. . .s?) from time to time—usually after he’s had a few too many drinks—but it just seems impossible for anyone to figure out what the hell happened, as well as why the hell it happened.

(Plus, just to clarify: yes, I did get all my inspiration from the episode "Who's The Worst?" on Distractible. However, this character is still meant to be somewhat different from the persona Bob put on for one particular dilemma Mark gave him. The primary difference is that this version of Two-Toes Johnny does not have a son.)

While he’s able to get tipsy or wasted, Two-Toes Johnny is nothing if not an experienced drinker. Working in the illegal alcohol trade will do that to you. When he’s not overseeing illicit spirits, he’s The Pentas Family’s primary bookkeeper, organizing all the money he and his peers rake in.

He’s the owner/manager of Liquorty Splitz, a (what else?) popular liquor store in the Cove Port Inlets. It currently supplies alcohol to Aftertaste, Itchy Palms, and several other joints. The building is connected to the abandoned subway tunnels. (He also has a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend type link to a place called The Robe. It doesn't fall under Pentas control—it’s basically an open secret in the criminal underground as a whole—but ever since Johnny entered the mob, he’s sort of paved the way for Murdock and the others to occasionally use their free-time to pay it a visit.)

He carries a very rough-around-the-edges demeanor. Sarcastic, blunt, quick to make snappy remarks or roll his eyes. It’s one of many survival mechanisms he’s learned over the years. Despite this, he still knows how respect and basic decency work. Earn his trust, and you’ll have an invaluable friend for life. (In such cases, the term “aggressive motivation/positivity” is an understatement.)

He’s a bookworm. His collection of novels is almost constantly threatening to grow bigger than his collection of vintage alcohol. He appreciates a lot of modern stuff, but he’s always had a soft spot for the classics. In fact, he always keeps a few books in his desk at Liquorty Splitz to read on slower nights. 

He has two tattoos on his face: a silvery little star just below his right temple, and the branch of a cherry blossom tree stretching along his jawline and ending near his left eyebrow. It’s not uncommon for him to trace the linework of either of them with his fingertips while he’s thinking. He claims that there’s no symbolism behind either of them, that they were the results of a couple drunken nights that took place a long time ago. (There’s a decent chance that’s true. . .but then, why does his expression occasionally turn soft and unreadable when he looks at these tattoos in the mirror?)

Standing at 6’4, Johnny is the biggest/tallest member of The Pentas Family. And he obviously knows how to use this to his advantage. As in, if he and his peers are in a violent situation, he’ll barely hesitate to pick said peers up by the waist/collar/legs and just. . .swing them in the direction of the enemy. Since the peers in question often have weapons on-hand, this method is shockingly efficient. It’s typically not appreciated, of course.

Current Stories: [TBA]

Phoenix Rhong 

Who She’s Based Off Of: Safiya Nygaard 

Her Method of Work: Playing with fire can be hard (depending on your perspective, at least), but getting burned is quite easy. Not so for someone who’s had as much practice as Phoenix. Where there’s smoke, there’s her. Pretty much a pro-gamer when it comes to plotting and coordinating, she’s the one to look for when riskier jobs need to be taken. After all, find an empty building in a very specific part of town, and voila! Instant Distraction—Just Add Fuel and Sparks! 

Red Attire: Ring (Garnet)

Notes:

Phoenix serves as a semi-dirty lawyer. As thorough and calculating as The Pentas Family is, mistakes can still be made. Bad timing and unlucky coincidences are still a factor. In such cases, Phoenix is invaluable for keeping her peers safe and their work hidden. On top of that, it never hurts to frame or expose an enemy or two; that just means less attention on her family, as well as less competition to deal with. She knows how to discreetly sow discord among enemies, how to tamper with evidence (whether planting it elsewhere or outright destroying it). 

Yes, she’s addicted to watching flames dance and hearing them crackle, but she still understands that they’re much more brutal than they are pretty. To be clear, she’s made her peace with reducing the corpses of certain targets to ash, but. . .well, they’re corpses. Like paper or clothing or many other flammable things, they can’t scream or feel pain when they’re being disposed of. (Not anymore, at least.) Whatever her peers did to those targets beforehand is just how they earn their own keep.

She’s responsible for the ironically legal parts of underground business. Negotiating prices/terms, relaying important messages, that kind of stuff. She helps form the contracts that the other Pentas representatives use, and she’s almost always in the room when those contracts are being discussed with outsiders (clients, allies, etc.). 

She’s very savvy when it comes to flammable chemicals. How exactly they burn, what to mix them with for the best results, how long it takes for them to reach their peak. Sure, matches and gasoline can be pretty damn effective, but an inferno often has to be handled very specifically. Sometimes the flames have to burn slower or faster. Sometimes they need to snuff themselves out at a quick rate. Sometimes they have to leave burned imprints behind rather than devour everything they touch. It all just depends on the job at hand. 

As part of an under-the-table agreement, she’s the owner of Scattered Wishes, the one and only crematorium the Cove Port Inlets has to offer. The building is connected to the abandoned subway tunnels, and she uses her personal den to hide various forms of evidence until they’re ready to be loaded into one of the ovens. 

“Phoenix Rhong” is NOT her original name. It’s not a fake identity, either. How she managed to take the name for herself. . .well, I'll go into more detail about that later. 

Current Stories: [TBA] 

Miles C. Peyote and Howie Thetaxi

Who They’re Based Off Of: Lewis Dawkins (Dawko) and Ryan (8-BitRyan), respectively 

Their Methods of Work: When your reputation precedes you from all the way across the pond, you’ve definitely done something right! (Unless that was never your intention, in which case you’ve done something horribly, horribly wrong.) Remember the board game Mouse Trap? Well, Miles probably played it a few too many times in his youth, if the booby traps he sets up nowadays are anything to go by. Whether the goal is to kill or simply capture someone, his designs never fail to be. . .elaborate. Howie, meanwhile, doubles as a mechanic and driver. From ditching cops to running enemies off the road, he has more than enough skill to make professional racers envious. Never, NEVER forget the importance of seatbelts if you’re getting into a car with him. (Also, never put your feet on the dash. It’s rude.)

Red Attire: For Miles, a pair of leather boots (Oxblood). For Howie, a pair of gauge earrings (Carnelian)

Notes:

These two got their start in The Marble Hummingbirds, a different mob based in the UK that  has had a strong alliance with The Pentas Family for years now. As part of standard underground affairs, Miles and Howie volunteered to relocate to the US and work more closely with Murdock and the others. The adjustment was a bit difficult (especially for Howie), but they both understand that it makes several aspects of business more efficient. They both retain a good balance of loyalty between their original crew and their new one. 

Miles is selective when it comes to speaking. He’ll talk some when he’s among people he trusts or is in a place that he’s deemed safe/comfortable, but when he’s out in public, he’s just. . .very quiet. He’ll still talk a bit for the sake of politeness or formality, but only a bit. If an area is open or unfamiliar, he prefers to use body language and the like. 

Howie has no qualms about reckless driving. Swerving, speeding, staging accidents; he can do it all without batting an eye. Whatever it takes to get himself and his buddies (plus their cargo) from Point A to Point B without getting stopped or caught. However, this mindset only applies to his personal driving. When he’s casually out and about, he can’t stand other drivers who tailgate, block lanes, cut others off, etc. If you act rude toward him in traffic, he can and will make a side-quest out of finding a way to get back at you. And yes, this extends to when he’s on the job. It’s not at all uncommon for him to go back and forth between chatting with his passengers and yelling at idiots on the road in the middle of a high-stakes-chase.

Miles has a habit of collecting plushies; especially odd-looking ones. (For example: the creepy-yet-cute stuff you might find on Etsy.) But his plushies aren’t just for aesthetic or decoration. He’s modified each and every one of them to be soft little storage units. Some have well-hidden zippers in their backs, while others have their heads function as the lids to jars stuffed inside their stomachs. Miles uses this strategy to hide valuables, such as varying sums of money or the odd piece of jewelry taken from a target. 

Howie is miraculously conscious of animals on the road. That’s one of few exceptions to his typical stance on getaway driving. He will always, ALWAYS make sure to avoid hitting cats, dogs, raccoons, deer. . .or squirrels. As a matter of fact, one squirrel that he managed to spare back in the day seems to have pledged a life-debt to him. Seriously, he avoided hitting it while he was still working in the UK, and by now it’s followed him to the US. Wherever Howie is, the squirrel always seems to be somewhere in the background, just watching and waiting.

Along with all the getaway driving stuff, Howie has helped The Pentas Family to form its very own chop-shop. Whenever cars are stolen from targets or enemies, Howie will be there to dismantle or sabotage said cars. Legitimate parts are sold, and certain jobs involve filling a vehicle with counterfeit parts in order to frame its owner.  

Ever since relocating, both Miles and Howie live out of The Five Seasons, a hotel near the Cove Port Inlet’s city entrance. The building is connected to the abandoned subway tunnels, and the duo rotates between sharing the hidden den; Miles will use it to build/test his traps, and Howie will use it simply to store/tamper with various car parts. The hotel just so happens to be right across the street from the car repair garage (Oh, for God’s Brake!) that Howie uses for his day-job.

Current Stories: [TBA]

Mercury Fredes

Who He’s Based Off Of: Thomas Sanders

His Method of Work: The Pentas Family can be thought of as many things. Well, if you were to think of it as, say, an anglerfish, then Mercury would play the role of that bright, shiny lure. He can put on a Grammy-worthy act in the blink of an eye, whether to lead a target to their doom or to keep any potential witnesses away from a soon-to-be crime scene. 

Red Attire: Nail polish (Cochineal)

Notes:

(Just to get this out of the way: yes, his name is weird because it’s chock-full of references and symbolism. Fellow fandom/trivia nerds will be able to figure it out, I’m sure, lol.)

On top of con-games, Mercury can also be quite stealthy if the job calls for it. Sneaking around enemy turf, setting up a sabotage or two, gathering information, spying on those who give off weird vibes during business negotiations. . .

Unlike most of his peers, Mercury was raised in a comfortable, pleasant environment. . .or, that environment was comfortable and pleasant while he was a kid. Things changed pretty drastically after he became an adult; more specifically, after he came out. He ended up leaving his hometown behind, hopping from one motel to another. Though he worked various odd-jobs, he also quickly learned to pick pockets in order to survive. 

By the time he had a chance-meeting with a few Pentas representatives, Mercury had already somewhat dipped his toes into the criminal underground. Mainly via listening to the hurried whispers of passersby, and then trading those memorized details for cash.

Despite what happened to him, Mercury has never once questioned himself or felt ashamed of who he is. Even when he was offered a place in The Pentas Family, he was still very much intimidated by them at first. But the support and open-mindedness they showed was quick to seal the deal for him. This in turn led to him (along with Val) having a hand in making sure that any Pentas-owned businesses are clearly marked as safe spaces for queer people.

He is most certainly NOT immune to morbid fascination. True, he doesn’t do any actual killing himself, but. . .well, I wouldn’t put it past him to look over the carnage left after a hit-job, all curious and thoughtful. The cleanup crew has gotten pretty used to him hanging around while they work. 

He works at Bullskit, a theater/auditorium that serves as one of the oldest buildings in the Cove Port Inlets (it’s still in business; it was even freshly remodeled when Mercury joined the mob). It’s connected to the abandoned subway tunnels, and Mercury kinda just lives there after hours. During hours, however, he dabbles in a bit of everything: stagehand, greenroom tech, assistant to the directors, you name it. If a target or enemy happens to get on the stage, Mercury isn’t exactly above looking the other way when his peers sneak in to drop sandbags, switch out prop weapons for real ones, rig the special effects, etc.

This goes on for about an hour, and then it's just the crack of dawn. Most of the men leaves, leaving just behind Jax and Juice. Jax is talking to you about something while Juice waits for him.

Jax stops Juice, pushing Juice's helmet into his chest.

"You're not going anywhere." Juice gives him a confused look. A shit-eating grin spreads across Jax's face.

"The farm might be watched, so you get to spend some time with your 'boyfriend'."

"Fuck you Jax."

"It's not me who you are supposed to be fucking." Jax grins like he just told the funniest joke and gets up on his bike, putting his helmet on, starting the engine.

"See you later at the clubhouse Juice." Juice gives him the finger, Jax laughs while he drives away. Juice looks after him until he disappears around the corner. He stands there until he hears you reappear on the porch.

"Oh, you still here?" You are genuinely surprised, you thought he had left with the rest of the club.

"Yeah, the farm might be watched still, Jax orders." You snort.

"What fucking kind of sex drive do Jax think we have?" The question doesn't really sound like the fucking you are supposed to be doing is hypothetically.

"Well, while you're here, you might as well help me do shit. You still owe me for those hickeys by the way, it took days before they were gone." Juice looks away, looking uncomfortable. You sigh.

"Well, I might as well feed you while you're here. I was gonna make some eggs and bacon for breakfast, what do you think?" Juice shrugs.

"Sounds fine with me, I'm your guest."

"Come on, you can help me do the morning rounds afterwards."

Surprisingly, Juice is pretty okay doing farm stuff. Although, you find out he really doesn't like chickens.

("What? A big scary biker like you are scared of some fucking chickens?" Juice huffs."I'm not scared, I just don't like them. They were dinosaurs at one point and have not forgotten it."

You look at them, where they're picking at corn. "Sure. Still gonna call you a pussy though.")

You are cleaning out from the horse stables (Juice complained only once about the smell) when Juice pops the question he has been thinking about for days.

"Where are you from anyway?" You over at him.

"What, haven't you guys looked into me already?" Juice stops shovelling poop, lean on the stall fork and shrugs.

"Yeah, well, they haven't found out yet. Thought I should ask, since it would be weird if I don't know where my 'boyfriend' is even from." Juice make air quotes around the word, almost losing the stall fork in the process.

"I see your point. Guess."

"What, you're not gonna tell me?" You shrug and grin.

"That would be no fun. So come on, guess." Juice leans the stall fork against the wall, and crosses his arms. You keep shovelling poop, not even really concentrating on him, just listening if he can get it right.

"Okay, so you said you weren't American. Canada?"

"Nope."

"Brasil?"

"Wrong side of the pond."

"Italy."

"No."

"England."

"Nein."

"Germany."

"No." You finish your stall, grab the wheel barrow with poop, moving on to the next box and Juice follows.

"Poland."

"No." Juice huffs.

"At least give me a hint."

"Sure. Moose."

"Moose?"

"Yes."

"Sure you aren't Canadian?"

"Yup."

"Uhhhh..." You finally look up at him.

"I'll give you a better hint, two actually. Oil and fjords."

"Oil and fjords? Norway?"

"Ding, ding, we have a winner. It only took you forever." Juice leans on the stable door.

"You're a far away from home then. Why did you come here then?" You look up at him, now you're the one leaning on the stall fork.

"What is this? An interrogation?" Juice shrugs.

"No, but I do wanna know, just curious." Juice grins and you swear you heart doesn't skip a beat.

"Well, I was just going around working and stuff, you know, just living a normal life you know. When out of the blue, I get a letter telling me that some distant relative have given me this farm. Seeing as I didn't have much to stay for, I took it and left. And the rest you know." Juice cocks his head.

"That's it?" You shrug.

"That's it."

"No family to stay for? Friends?"

"Parents died years ago, and I have never been the best at making friends.

"Hm, can't imagine why." Juice voice is dry, the grin shit-eating. You show him the finger.

"Fuck you." You pick up the handles of the wheelbarrow, starting to drag it towards the entrance, stopping when Juice doesn't move out the way.

"Move."

"I just realised I never asked the most important question."

"What?" Juice, moves closer, you stand your ground.

"You didn't leave behind a girlfriend back home? Or boyfriend?" You give him a deadpan look.

"What do you think? I hardly had any friends and you think I had someone?" Juice hums, putting one hand on your waist, the other on your chin. This time your heart definitely skips a beat, the traitor.

"You sure? You didn't leave some unlucky fucker with heartbreak behind?" If you didn't know better you would think Juice was flirting with you.

"No motherfucker. And what the fuck are you doing?"

"Well, I figured it would be best if it looked like we actually touch and flirt with each other in case someone comes by, or you know, we're being watched." You pretend your stomach is doing backflips and your hip isn't weirdly sensitive where he is touching you, and set your face in a scowl.

"I would be very surprised if anyone came by, since I don't know anyone here except from your club. And if someone managed to install cameras or come onto my property without me noticing, I would be real fucking surprised." Juice hums and let you go, but not before he shakes your head a little.

"Just making sure." He lets you go past him, shit-eating grin on his face. At least he could have fun with embarrassing you and making your face burn when he was stuck in this situation. He pointedly ignores his own burning cheeks and backflipping stomach.

Juice doesn't leave your farm until the sun have disappeared behind the horizon. When he makes it back to the clubhouse, he gets teased mercilessly about how long he was gone.

A few hint that you must be really good keeping him for so long. He gives them the finger.

He grabs a beer and sits down alone at the table, sending text to you thanking you for the delicious food. Feeling brave, and slightly drunk on the whiskey you dived into after he left, you respond back with:

"You thanked med already, next time I'll get you even something better to eat ;)" He chokes on his drink, which doesn't go unnoticed, prompting another round of teasing hollers, and another round of him showing them the finger. He pretends he doesn't feel excited about seeing you again.

Trigger warnings: (not necessarily a complete list! Please tell me if you need others added up here because I’m just trying to remember what’s in here) blood, torture, kidnapping, extreme distress, and abuse.

See this chapter’s masterlist here.

Part One of Chapter One: The Newcomer

Cold light drifts in through the window of Trickshot’s nest.

He sits with a blanket drawn loosely across his shoulders, his hand on his sniper but the gun down, down on his lap instead of hoisted onto the sill as usual. Clear blue eyes are fixed on the pine tree view outside his window, watching with an intensity that has only been his characteristic since the early days.

The early days of what he remembers, anyway.

At his side you can make out the shape of another man, asleep under piles of blankets, his face hidden close to Trickshot’s thigh. A soft fuzz of brown hair sticks out from under the blankets. You can hear him breathing. Trickshot plays with the barrel of his gun, staring, waiting, at watch, as always.

Once the sun dawns, perhaps he will sleep, but perhaps not. Today, after all, may well be the long-awaited day.

Eventually, the man at Trickshot’s side stirs and awakens, pushing up out of the blankets with a groan and slumping wearily against Trick’s back. His brother doesn’t respond, fixated on the window. Doktor reaches around to find broken glasses on the floor and puts them on, glancing around the house. There is no static in the air, no flickering lights, not even the soft hum of electricity.

“When is he coming home?” he whimpers, rubbing sleepily at his face.

“Stop whining,” hisses Trick. “Soon enough.”

But he too is beginning to look worn.

Anonymous asked: Hello? Hi? Are you guys okay?

Trickshot starts and glances over at the camera. Doktor grins and goes to pick it up, holding it up so you can see the both of them and the view through the window. “Hello,” he says. He reaches up to itch at a scratch on his face, but Trick smacks his hand away with a pointed “stop picking at that!”

“We’re okay,” says Doktor. “Just bored. We’re waiting for our brothers to come back home.”

Anonymous asked: Oh? Who's missing?

“Red and Anti,” grumbles Trickshot. “And they’re supposed to be bringing someone else home with them.”

A loud thud sounds through the ceiling and Trick and Dok both jolt hard, glancing up.

“He’s probably wearing out,” comments Doktor.

“Who gives a fuck?” growls Trick.

“You should, if he passes out it means something went wrong. Red and Anti only get as many chances as he gives them.”

optimistic-violinist asked: So pumped about this blog!! One thing I've always wondered, who got corrupted first and what was the order after that? Thanks so much!!

The boys exchange glances and laugh. “Corrupted!” snorts Trick.

“I like that, ‘corrupted,’” giggles Doktor. “It is not like this, my friend, it is more like - coming around to something that was always true. Becoming more fully what you always should have been.”

Trick nods solemnly.

“Trick and I came here together. Red and Dapper were already with Anti by the time we did. They were, after all, the ones that brought us home. That is what I remember. What little I remember…”

He pauses, frowning out the window. Trick reaches out to touch the back of his head, just for a second, and Doktor nods, a confirmation of a question they often ask each other.

“You okay?”

“I’m okay.”

Wordlessly.

Anonymous asked: Was that dapper??

“Yeah, he’s upstairs,” sighs Trick. “It’s a working night for him. But if he does his goddamn job right, we won’t have a problem. Dok, maybe you better check he didn’t faint again. He - ”

“Hey,” says Doktor, cutting him off. “Thought I saw something move on the path.”

They both jolt to attention, sitting up like dogs alerted by a squirrel and looking out the window.

Anonymous asked: what's outside?

“Holy shit,” whispers Trick, sinking down against the windowsill. “Holy shit.”

Doktor, for his part, leaps to his feet and hurries toward the door, calling a hurried “is everyone okay?”

The path from their house leads through the forest and out towards the cold fall ocean. Coming along the dirt path is two men in black hoods. Across Red’s shoulders is slung Marvin the Magnificent.

Unconscious.

Bleeding.

Found at last.

“Hey, puppies,” calls Anti, drawing back his hood.

His eyes are green and black. Blood coats his throat and his hands. He is, at last, victorious, and for a moment, your view looking out from the window, you could swear that it is you he is smiling at.

“Look what the cat dragged in!”

Anonymous asked: Oh?? A stranger? A new, old brother? Who's Anti and Red brought?

“They really found him,” mumbles Trick, huddled up in his blankets, gripping the gun frailly. “The magician. We’ve been searching for him for a really long time.”

Doktor grins and runs to meet them on the path, where he is promptly scooped into Anti’s arms and lifted up into a hug. Anti presses a kiss into his hair and slings an arm around his shoulder, turning him towards Red, who stands, panting and pale, with Marvin across his shoulders.

“Look, Dok-Dok, I brought you a new patient,” says Anti. His voice glitches only a little and his form is quite opaque; he seems very stable. He allows Doktor to run anxious hands over his stomach and neck, but there is no wound despite the blood.

“You did it,” purrs Doktor, pushing up against his shoulder. “Finally, we’re all here. Now we’re complete, yes, Anti?”

“Yes, now you’re all complete. Pretty matching set. Red, get him inside, downstairs. Want him chained up before he comes to. He’s still not himself. Has to be broken in. But soon we’ll all be together, just like we were meant to be.”

Trickshot has come to stand in the doorway. He watches, white-mouthed, as Red moves past him with Marvin in tow.

“Hey, Anti.” Trick dares to speak up. “Wh - what’s his name?”

For a moment, Marvin’s eyes flicker over, ever-so-slightly, though only Trick sees. He is stopped short by the look in them - a sudden and painful desperation, complete with agony, turning the warm ocean color of his irises to a terrible despair. Despite his weakness, still there is something in his eyes - his eyes, his eyes, deeper blue than the night sky - that is not quite human.

“This is Red’s twin, as Doktor is yours,” says Anti. He moves to Trickshot and runs a fond hand through his hair. Trick relaxes against his hands, sighing wearily.

“This is Blue.”

With the soft cry of a thing in its death throes, Blue lets his eyes slide shut once more.

 Anonymous asked: How bloody is Red?

As Anti moves on, speaking with Trick, Doktor turns his attention to Red and Blue and follows them down the stairs. He no longer needs to be ordered to take care of his brothers - this has been his duty since even before he became Anti’s.

The basement is dark and smells strongly of iron. Doktor shivers as he reaches the bottom of the creaking wood stairs, where flecks of carpet remain affixed to the concrete floor. You can hear Red panting hard as he sets Marvin down in the corner and fetches chain from the closet. There is plenty of it in there.

“Are you well?” asks Doktor, tilting his head.

Red pushes down his hood, revealing a dark stain of blood bloomed like a flower in his hair. He turns, exhausted, to Doktor, and mumbles something incomprehensible. With a soft dripping sound, your attention is turned to his bleeding wrists. They are blackened with deep, weeping burns. Red’s eyes flicker.

Anonymous asked: Is he gonna be okay?

Doktor glances at you and makes an uncertain face. He knows he should move in to help him, but that’s not always easy with Red.

“What happened to your risks?” he asks.

“Wrists, Deutsch,” grumbles Red. “What do you think?”

“The cat can burn like that?”

“He’s powerful,” admits Red. For a second, he shakes off the weariness and straightens up. “And I caught him, so! Anyway, he’ll be a good asset, you know. Anti will be pleased with me.” He grins proudly.

“So sure?” asks Doktor. A grim smile flashes across his face. “Sounded like Dapper wasn’t doing so well upstairs. Maybe you messed it up a few times?”

Red pales. “D - did he faint?”

“Didn’t check.”

Red turns away from him, hiding his fear, panting. He groans through a wave of dizziness and clutches his bleeding wrists.

“Here.” Doktor is suddenly at his side, reaching out to take his hands. “Let’s get these bandaged up. I have some burn stuff.”

“Ugh,” mumbles Red. He wants to pull away, but suddenly it’s difficult to stand. Shaking, he tumbles against Doktor’s chest, and can’t seem to get back up. His head is bleeding rapidly. Doktor swears and sinks to the ground with him, putting pressure to the - oh, shit, his skull is fractured.

“Not doing so hot, are you, Reddy?”

“Fuck you,” groans Red.

“You’ll be okay, but may be a couple painful days. Best hope your concussion doesn’t damage anything permanent. Let’s get you bandaged up, yes?”

Anonymous asked: Did Red get those injuries when Blue tried to defend himself?

“Yes,” grumbles Red, slurring over his own tongue. “I tried… I tried to talk him down… Anti said we were brothers once, and I told him we could be again. But he wouldn’t come with us. I think he was afraid. He kept calling a name, so I guess he expected someone to come help him, but no one answered. I came after him when he ran and he grabbed me. Threw me against the wall too, with this… blue light. He might have beat me, but Anti stepped in.”

Anonymous asked: Is Red gonna be allowed time to recover, Dok? Is there anything more you can do for him?

“I’ll do my best. I’m the best doctor.” Doktor grins slightly strangely, one side of his mouth still frowning. “Come on, Red, let’s go.”

He checks that Blue is chained securely to the wall and heaves Red back up to his feet, pulling him up the stairs and bringing him to the corner on the other side of the room from Trick’s nest, where what was once a kitchen island provides a bit of privacy for a small green sleeping bag. He lies Red down on it and brushes the hair out of his face, grabbing a first aid kit from nearby - always nearby - and beginning to disinfect the cuts and burns. He wraps his head up tight, thinking about all the different things he would do if he were in a real hospital - if he had heavy sutures and oxygen and ointment for the burns…

“I do my best,” he says, to you, to the house, to no one. “I do my best.”

Red writhes in silence on the sleeping bag, gripping the fabric, his teeth tightly pressed together in his mouth. It’s just pain. It’s just pain.

Doktor is the only one allowed to see him in it.

spicydanhowell asked: red, do you think maybe the kitty was happier on his own? if you were brothers once before, do you know why you left him? (also doc, i hope you make him rest. a skull fracture could mean fainting, vomiting, blurred vision, and confusion :( it could take weeks to heal and he seems like he's in a fragile state)

“Happier on his own.” Red laughs breathily, sweating against his sleeping bag. His eyes crack open and he stares at you, blood welling slowly in the white bandages around his head. “Happier… he was miserable! You should have seen him! Curled up on his cardboard, clutching those old pictures to his chest! Crying the moment he saw me, pathetic! And so… so fucking alone.”

He glances up at Doktor and finds him distracted. Quietly, he continues.

“I would never want to be that alone. He’ll be with us now. We’re meant to be together. Don’t you think so? Now he’s here, my twin. Now we’re together, like we should be. Why would he be happier alone? No, no… he’ll be happy soon. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to look out for him. And I’m not - I’m not fragile.”

“He is fragile,” interrupts Doktor immediately.

“I’m not fragile.”

“He is fragile.”

“Deutsch, I am about to - ”

Doktor tightens the bandages and Red yelps, falling dizzily against his bag.

“Fucker,” he groans, and Doktor laughs.

“He won’t get weeks,” admits Dok. “But maybe a little time off… unless Anti’s mad at him, for exhausting his little puppy.”

Red snickers and then groans, covering his face with his hands.

Anonymous asked: oh! if blue and red are twins, and doktor and trickshot are twins, would that make dapper anti's twin?

Trickshot is curled up in his nest, cleaning his gun, looking white. “In a sense,” he sighs, and spares you a smile, because you’re not wrong and he likes having someone to talk to. “That’s a good enough guess. Functionally, I suppose. Twins sleep in the same bed and Dapper sleeps up there with Anti, when Anti sleeps. Twins look after each other and Anti and Dapper watch each other’s back, unless Anti is angry with him. But twins are equals too, or close enough, and Dapper, no matter how fucking spoiled he is - ” His voice cracks and he scowls, gripping his gun too tight. “ - Dapper is not that.”

Trick pauses, glancing up at the light from his window.

“Anyway, Doktor and I are usually together. And Dapper - Dapper spends his days alone.”

Anonymous asked: can you guys even see Dapper? When was the last time any of you interacted with him?

“We aren’t allowed to go upstairs when Anti is home,” says Trick, pushing overgrown hair out of his eyes. “I suppose Dapper is just too… fucking pretentious to…”

His voice shakes and he stops, sinking down tighter in his hiding space. “I used to see him a lot. Not any more. Doktor checks on him sometimes, when Anti’s not home.”

“Did you check on him while we were gone?” asks Anti suddenly.

Trick jolts and looks up. You cannot see Anti off camera, but Trick certainly hadn’t seen him only a moment before.

“N-no,” he stammers, clutching his gun tight.

“Hm,” says Anti, and turns away, heading for the stairs.

Trick relaxes as Anti’s focus moves away from him, breathing out a low, shaky breath.

musical-in-theory asked: Dapper, are you okay up there?

“Good question,” says Anti, grabbing the camera as he moves up the stairs. The screen flickers and glitches violently, but when he reaches a room in the attic and sets you down on the bed, it stops again.

You see, in one corner of the room, a young man in a yellow jumper slumped frailly against the wall, looking white. He blinks open tired eyes and reaches out his hands at the sight of Anti.

“How you doing, little one?” purrs Anti, moving over to him and scooping him up on his arms, hauling him onto the bed. He sits down at Dapper’s side and begins brushing his hair out of his eyes, humming.

“Fine,” sign Dapper’s shaking hands.

“Tired?”

“Not so bad, Anti.”

“How many times did you have to redo last night?”

“Just four, Anti.”

Anti sits back and breathes deep, pausing in thought. Dapper shakes quietly at his side.

“Okay,” says Anti finally. “Okay.”

And he disappears in a scattering of static.

Dapper’s hands grip at the empty place where his brother used to be for just a moment, but there is nothing there. Finally he turns to you, frowning wearily, curling his hands in his big yellow jumper.

He blinks uncertainly at you, and then, calming, repeats, “fine, fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. Tired. I’m fine.”

He sighs and rubs at his head, his mouth blueish.

Anonymous asked: so uh, what now? Anti finally has the full set, so what's next?

“Well,” says Trick, sitting up straight. “First of all, Blue has to be turned into - ”

The room explodes into static.

Trick does not even scream, only throws himself to the floor, curling tightly into a ball, gripping at his ears. Your screen has turned a dozen different colors, but the midday sun has failed you entirely; the room is cloaked in darkness. In the other corner, you see Doktor leap to his feet and take off towards Trick, only to crumple to his feet halfway through the room, as a huge black dog appears in the center of everything.

A low growl lives in its throat. Doktor pants at its feet, shaking hard, averting his eyes.

The dog turns away from him.

Doktor scrambles across the room and throws himself over Trickshot’s body, hiding too. Upstairs, sobbing through the floorboards.

“How many times?” shudders Anti’s terrible voice, from nowhere, from everywhere, a shaking, dozen-toned layer of sound. “How many times does the little one have to clean up your messes?”

“Please, please,” screams Red. He is not visible, hidden behind his island, alone in the corner. “I brought him back to you, please! I did it, I did it!”

“On the fourth round,” snarls the dog, barely audible through the awful shrieking, barely visible through the spasming glitches. “Four times, he redoes the night. You’re supposed to be the little hero. Do you want to be thrown out, broken toy?”

“No, please! I don’t even know what went wrong! I don’t know what I did! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

The dog lunges out of your view and a scream echoes through the room. For a second, the screen cuts out.

“Next time,” you hear Anti’s voice say. “Do it right the first time.”

So now - what now? - now they try to survive this.

Anti has things to do. Anti has things he needs them for. That is why they are still alive, and the story is not over yet.

hollenka99 asked: In all fairness, none of you (except Dapper of course) know which attempt you're on. Don't you always assume it's the first go? If Dapper didn't have his watch, you probably wouldn't get a 2nd try anyway.

“Yes,” whispers Doktor. “We never know if something goes wrong, and he must change it back.”

Trick shakes beneath him. They hide against the blankets. Red is moaning in his corner, soft choking gasps cutting through the aching noise.

“So we must just hope - we must just hope that nothing goes wrong. There is no knowing. There is no knowing.”

Anonymous asked: Can you tell us more about Dapper? Or can we talk to him? Thaaanks :) ((and why is his nickname Carver??))

Dapper wipes slowly at tears in his eyes. He is hiding beneath the bed, leaving the camera out in front of him.

“Hi,” he signs, with a fragile, flickering smile, snuffling. “Yes, please, you can talk to me anytime… no one ever talks to me up here.

“Carver’s my nickname because I’m good with a knife. Like Anti. It’s a compliment - I’m like him in many ways.” His mouth trembles and he closes his eyes, sighing deep. “It’s a good thing. It’s - it’s good.”

musical-in-theory asked: Marvin? Hang in there! Your brothers need you to stay strong!

The ocean eyes flicker open, and in the darkness, seem to shiver.

“My brothers,” whispers Marvin.

There is blood on him. You do not know whose it is.

“Look what Jackie did to me… oh, oh, fuck, please, I don’t want to be a slave!” He yanks against his chains, suddenly frantic, panting hard. “No, no, no, not like this, not like fucking this! Jackie! Jackie! Please! Where are my little brothers, where are you? I don’t want to be a slave! I don’t want to be a slave!”

He screams so loud his voice breaks and slumps down in his chains, shaking, shaking like a shot dog.

“Supposed to save them,” he whispers, staring at his shackled wrists. “Not like this, not like this…”

Anonymous asked: Aw, Marv. :( That's rough, buddy. We're rooting for you, though! Do you have a plan for escaping, or resisting Anti? You might not have much time to figure it out.

“Might not have much time.” Marvin laughs breathily, straining off the wall, tugging on the chains. “You’re right about that, my friend. Fuck, resist him - he gets close and I’ll burn him to ash and bone - but then - ” His voice cracks and trembles. “I couldn’t stop him to save Chaser and Schneep, I don’t know that I can stop him for myself. But I - I have to, I will!”

He looks up with teeth gritted, blue eyes flashing.

“I can do this. I am Magnificent. I’ll be the one to kill him. And my brothers… whoever’s left alive… we’ll all go home together. We’ll all…” Tears well in his eyes, he drops his head. “All go home together…”

juju-on-that-yeet asked: you: oh poor sweet marv, who did this to him?? (I had made a comment in the tags of a post asking who could do this to Marvin) also you: *did this to him* (i'm not complaining tho ^^)

Marvin laughs and then groans, reaching up to touch at the dried blood of a thick cut across his cheek. He is bent awkwardly over on himself, breathing thin.

oasisofgalaxies asked: Hey Marvin, all is not lost! I believe in you, I believe you can make it out, you aren't done yet. Keep fighting Marvin, we have you're back!

He bites hard on his lip, looking at you.

“I’ve been feeling like all is lost for weeks now,” he coughs. “Thank you, I’ll try. I think if I - ”

Footsteps on the stairs. He starts and stiffens, teeth snarling back in his mouth, glaring up at the light that falls towards him from the room above, piercing the darkness.

Anonymous asked: Good luck, Marvin! Remember your strengths and your enemies' weaknesses. You can make it! Stay resolute!

“Weaknesses,” whispers Marvin. “Weaknesses, his haste, his fury, I - ”

“Heya, puppet.”

Marvin breathes deep and looks up.

A flash of light, and Anti is before him, his eyes black and green.

“Kitty Cat, you have been a hard little animal to track down, do you know that? I’m so proud of you, what good little sneak you are. What a good little thief you’ll be. Such a clever pet.”

“Fuck off, Anti,” whispers Marvin.

“Not feeling friendly, but that’s okay. Street cats rarely do. We’ll give you some time. We can go easy. Just takes some time, and then you’re mine.”

Marvin kicks out uselessly, trying to strike Anti’s shins, but he can’t reach.

Anti sighs. “Well. Maybe I’ll go easy after I’ve taught you a lesson.”

A glitch and he is kneeling across from Marvin, gripping his face so hard his cheeks will bruise. Marvin yelps, trying to bite.

“Because I’m going to be honest, Magnificence,” hisses Anti. “I have lain next to your darling brothers for weeks and weeks and weeks now. And the only thing I have dreamt of, for as long as I can remember, is making you howl for mercy.”

Marvin spits at him and Anti snarls, turning away to wipe it off his face.

“Kinky!” Marv quips, summoning a ball of fire in his hand.

Anti puts a blade through his palm before he can move. Marvin screams, crumpling in on himself. Blood, blood down his wrist.

florenceisfalling asked: red, are you okay? why do you and doktor not get along?

Red is shuddering on his side of the room, trying not to choke on vomit. His arm bleeds heavily into his sleeping bag. Dog’s teeth, dog’s teeth wounds in his wrist.

“He’s not okay,” whispers Trick.

“I’m not going close to him while Anti’s angry with him,” replies Doktor, shaking. “I’m not. He’ll hit me or Anti will. Do I have to? I won’t. I won’t.”

They are huddled side-by-side in their blankets, waiting for the smell of fury to recede from the house.

“Red’s angry all the time,” says Trick. “Always trying to prove something. Guess who gets smacked around when there’s no one else for him to snap at?”

“I think we used to get along,” mumbles Doktor, his eyes slightly glazed. “Didn’t we? I can’t remember. Anyway, we’re not allowed to talk to each other except in emergencies. Is just me and Trick, most of the time. But now…”

Red lets out a hollow scream. You can hear his head striking against the wood floor as he writhes.

Anonymous asked: Wait, there are actual dog teeth in Red's arm? Anti can transform like that? That must be scary!

Anti whirls on you, grinning. “Scary! Don’t you like a pretty dog?”

He is a dog again, huge and darker than fur should be, his head down, his eyes wicked in the darkness. Marvin screams, throwing himself back against the wall.

“I can be many things,” says Anti, in a voice low, low, growling, aching. He is a man again, faceless. He is a shadow, with a reddened eye. He is a child holding a knife. He is a hyena. A man, horned in a halo. “I can be anything. I can be love, I can be hatred. That is why I have won, time and time again.”

He turns back to Marvin.

“Gods like me make pets of men.”

And then - and then, he is just Jack again, a blue-eyed boy, messy beard and tied back hair, not tall, not strongly built. Just a man in a t-shirt and ripped skinny jeans.

“Wasn’t that spooky!” he says, mimicking the voice Jack used for goofing around. “Oh no, is a demon!”

He bursts into laughter and sits down at Marvin’s side. Marvin is shaking hard, his teeth gritting furiously.

“Fucking monster,” he hisses.

“Hey, man, come on,” protests Anti, smiling gently at him. His voice is no longer high-pitched or glitching. He just sounds human. “Don’t have to be a dick about it. Look, I’m sorry I stabbed you. I have a shitty temper. Still working on it. But, listen, Blue, it’s time for us to bury the hatchet instead of the body. I’m not so bad. I’ll prove it to you. What do you think?”

He turns back to you and winks. “Huh? Whatcha think?”

musical-in-theory asked: Marvin don’t listen to him! Fight, magic man! Fight for your brothers!!

Marvin drives his elbow up towards Anti’s face, but Anti grabs his arm before any blow falls, and then he snatches the other wrist too, and shoves Marvin up against the wall. He’s stronger than he should be. “Now, now, Blue,” he soothes. “Calmer, calmer.”

“Get off me!” screams Marvin, thrashing. Anti pins him tighter, pressing gently on his throat.

“Sh, sh,” he whispers, trying to meet Marvin’s eyes, squeezed tightly shut. “Let’s be okay. It’s okay. Here, look at me, come on. How about a calmative, huh? Come on, open your eyes. It’s okay. Poor thing, all bloody. All alone on the streets, poor stray thing, so scared. Open your eyes.”

He pricks at Marvin’s eyes with his nails, trying to pull up the eyelid. Marvin fights. Anti glitches bright and colorful, spasming with light, and the visual stimulus is enough to make Marvin blink, and then -

Anti’s fucking eyes.

“There you go, there you go,” whispers Anti. “Poor thing, it’s okay. Sh, sh.”

Deeper than oceans, moving faintly through a myriad of colors, and Marvin feels sick, and then well, and then warm, and then cold. He cannot move. You see his arms slacken and fall to the ground. Anti touches his face.

“We’ll just start with a little,” says Anti. “Just to calm down, right? It’s okay. I know new cats need some space. So you promise me that you won’t go running anywhere, and I promise I’ll let you out of those awful chains. Okay?”

Blue gapes dumbly, staring at him, following his eyes like he’s enchanted.

“Okay?” Anti prompts again, softly.

“Okay,” whispers Blue.

“Good boy,” says Anti. “Good job.”

He lets go of Blue’s face and rises to his feet. He turns away and returns a moment later with a key in hand.

“Hey,” gasps Marvin, shaking his head. “Hey! I know what the fuck you’re doing, bastard, no, I won’t let you into my head like this, I won’t - ”

Anti crouches down and takes his hands in his own. Once again, Blue is immediately hooked on his eyes, staring, panting, drowning.

“Haven’t you wondered, Blue, how it is I turned your brothers against you?”

Marvin groans and shakes his head. Fighting, he has to keep fighting.

“There are two things I used. Power - my own, you see, and isn’t it nice? And love. That’s yours and your brothers’. And I’m really looking forward to seeing it destroy you, like it destroyed the others.”

He unlocks Marvin’s wrists and the chains fall away. Marvin stares up at him, glaring.

“That spell won’t hold,” he hisses. “You can’t stop me from running.”

“If it was just power alone, maybe it wouldn’t be able to,” shrugs Anti. “But it’s not. Leave if you can. You’d be the first one to be able to. Good luck.”

His form flickers and disappears.

And it is Marvin left alone, sitting in the basement, unchained.

“What the fuck?” he whispers.

snow-lavender asked: Wait, so what happened to Jack in this timeline?? ...Do we want to know?

“Who?” ask Trick and Dok in sync, tilting their heads in opposite directions at you.

Anonymous asked: What are you gonna do now... Blue?

His eyes flicker irritably over to the camera. “Oh, someone thinks they’re clever, do they? Ugh, I feel like shit, what the fuck?”

There had been a minute there when the pain receded… when it was just him and that power, and he was floating in nothing, floating on the Dead Sea, easy, weightless, drifting…

“Fuck!” he hisses, gripping at his head. “I have to keep it fucking together! What am I going to do now? I’m going to go get my brothers and go!”

He drags himself to his feet, only momentarily blinded by the pain, and pants his way to the bottom of the stairs, determined, ferocious -

Hesitating.

“Are they all… alive?” he asks, shakily. “All they all just… just puppets? Robots, dead-faced, slumped in corners, waiting to be used? Do they still look like themselves? Do they know me? Are my little brothers even alive?”

loganandoli asked: Doktor, Trick, do you know if Anti can hear or see our messages? Asking for a friend.

“Umm,” says Trick. “Probably?”

“He sees lots of e - of elle - of - ,”

“Ee-leck-trick-ull,” pronounces Trick politely. Doktor nods.

“Electrical signals. Messages and such. But things come and go from these cameras, from the town, from the mountains, from the boats on the sea, bouncing off the satellites in the sky and bouncing around. Some things he will only glance at. Some things, though, will catch his attention. But, hey, no need to be worrying! Anti doesn’t seem to mind us having chats, yes?”

Trick hums, leaning back against the wall. “He just keeps us safe, so unless you’re trying to hurt us, why would he care? Right?”

They exchange glances, declare each other’s logic sound, and nod in sync.

“Can we get some lunch?” asks Dok.

“How are we going to do that while Red’s over there by the cupboards?”

Dok sighs and leans back, resigned to wait.

Anonymous asked: I have, uh. Bad news? Your brothers are alive, but.. not well. Mentally and physically. They aren’t too fond of each other anymore. I think. Their memories seem to be gone also...

“Aren’t too fond of each other?” Marvin stares up at the doorway above him. “What do you mean? They loved each other so much. That’s not something even Anti can strip away. Even - even with memories g-gone.”

He turns to look at you, more afraid than he was with Anti standing above him. “Right?”

loganandoli asked: They don’t even know their own names anymore, Marvin. Anti is turning them against each other. We all believe in you!! You can do it!! You can save them!!

“Their names, fuck,” whispers Marvin, tears squeezing out of his eyes. “I called for Jackie so many times but it was like he didn’t even recognize his own name. It’s like he just stripped them away from themselves. I’m so scared of what they’ll be like, I… but you’re right, I need to get them and get out. I need to save them. I can, I can, I can. Jackie, Schneep, Chaser, James…”

Anonymous asked: I'll be straight with you, Marv, it's not good. Jackie attacked you and brought you here in the first place, with Dapper's help; they're obviously not okay. But you just got puppeted by Anti too, and you came back almost immediately. Don't let their current state discourage you. There has to be a way to save them. And even if you can't get them all out now, anywhere's better than here!

Marvin nods, setting foot on the stairs. “Okay, okay. You’re right. Not good. But anywhere’s better than here. Anywhere’s better than here.

“And at least I get to see them again. I get to see my brothers again. Oh, I…”

Anonymous asked: Oh god Marv, yah.. their love has been stripped away and thrown in the scrap pit. Some get alone better than others... but their memories are gone. They’ve started another life in the fearful shadow of Anti.

“Fearful shadow of Anti, fearful…” He wipes at his forehead. “Maybe I can still convince them to go. Does he really treat them so well, that they stay? Haven’t they ever tried to come back to me? That’s… that’s how I got caught, you know.”

He laughs frailly, making his way to the top of the stairs. “Trying to send a signal to Chase and Schneep. They were with me, and then… stolen. I kept hoping… but they never came home to me…”

spicydanhowell asked: hey doc, why won't anti let you near red when he's angry with him? you can't even go grab some food? he'd let you stop red from bleeding out, right?

“I should,” whimpers Dok, sinking down closer at Trick’s side. Trick plays anxiously with his gun, surveying the room and the window, vigilant as ever. He hasn’t slept in a while - he rarely does on Anti’s bad days - and it’s making them both nervous. “But often when Anti lashes out at Red, next thing Red does is lash out at me when I am meant to help.”

A brief fury flashes through his eyes. Trick makes a low rumbling noise and Dok sighs, trying to stay calm, resting his head on Trick’s knee.

“We do need food soon,” he adds wearily. “Kill a rabbit for me, Trick.”

Trick smiles fondly down at him, just for a moment, and turns back to his sight.

musical-in-theory asked: Anti was telling the truth in a way. He’s using their love for each other against them. The same love they had for each other has now been turned to love for Anti, thus pitting then against one another. Be careful Marv. They’re a bit territorial of the glitch.

“Pitting my brothers against each other,” hisses Marvin, gripping the handle of the door. “My brothers, my brothers. No, we need to go. We’re going, we’re going, I’ll - ”

He opens the door.

The red point of a laser scope sits in the middle of his chest.

“Don’t. Fucking. Move.”

spicydanhowell asked: careful marv! they don't trust you now! but they won't hurt you, they wouldn't risk making anti angry

Trick cocks his gun, sliding forward on his knees, so Doktor is behind him. “You fucking sure about that?”

Marvin stares at him, frozen solid.

It’s been three months since he saw him. The last time they spoke was over the phone, and Chase was crying for him to come back, there was someone outside, someone coming for him and Henrik, where did you go, Marvin, please, I don’t want to be Anti’s -

Anonymous asked: Trick, careful! Anti wants the full set, remember? You can't hurt Blue too badly.

“They’re right, don’t do anything crazy,” mumbles Doktor at his side.

“Why are you out of the basement?” snaps Trick.

“Anti let me out,” Marvin manages finally, lifting up his hands. “It’s me, love. It’s okay. Are you two okay?”

“You better fucking pray that’s true,” hisses Trick. “You make one wrong move and don’t think I won’t - ”

He is interrupted by a low whine from the corner of the room closest to Marv.

Trick glances at Red’s island, his mouth tightening uncertainly.

“Who’s that?” asks Marvin, moving towards him.

florenceisfalling asked: please don't hurt marv, blue, whatever- he's trying to help. cant you see that?

“If he looks after Red,” whispers Doktor. “We don’t have to.”

“Right, right.” Trick’s eyes are wide and frantic. He clutches the gun too tightly. Can’t seem to make himself move. Fuck, he can’t remember the last time a threat was actually inside the house, and not outside the window. And there’s so many of those shaky old half-memories he sometimes gets buzzing inside his head, like a swarm of bees you can hear but not see. “Right, I… I’ll just keep an eye on him. I’ll just - it’s fine. Anti let him out. It’s okay.”

Marvin nods slowly, reassuringly, and at last takes his eyes off Trick’s, moving slowly towards the island. “I’m just going to check on this, okay? I’m just going to sit down over here, how’s that?”

“Fine,” rasps Trick. “Fine. Fine. Okay.”

musical-in-theory asked: Marvin, I’m not sure you want to know...

“Oh, fuck, Jackie!” cries Marvin. “Oh, no, no, no, oh, it’s okay, brother, it’s okay!”

He falls to his knees at Red’s side, out of view of Chase’s scope behind the island. His brother - or what was once his brother, he doesn’t know anymore - is lying white-faced as a dead thing on a stained sleeping bag, breathing thin and fast. Blood slicks his bandaged head and his torn up right arm, where teeth have torn apart gauze. His eyes roll wildly in his head; he moans.

Anonymous asked: Oh, Marv, please steel yourself if you go over there. Jackie's not doing too well and he tends to lash out.

“Jackie, Jackie,” whispers Marvin, touching his cheek. “Buddy, hey, are you with me?”

Blue eyes slide open, and so does his mouth, revealing white teeth. Marvin only has a second to register the animal look in his eyes before Red has reached up with his good hand to grab him, tightly, by the throat. Marvin screams raggedly, trying to yank himself away, scrambling at Red’s hands.

“Look what you did to,” chokes Red. “You and Dapper, you and Dapper, you, you - ”

“You were trying to kidnap me!” gasps Marvin, striking at his chest, and then, when that does not free him, reaching out to grab Red’s other wrist. Red screams, dropping him, and they both recoil from each other, slamming against the wall on one side, and the cupboards of the island on the other.

“Okay,” whispers Marvin, panting. “Tends to lash out. Noted.”

Red groans and slackens against the wall, tears running down his face. Ashamed, he turns his head away, mumbling incoherently, delirious with pain. He wraps his good arm around himself and rubs his shoulder.

spicydanhowell asked: doc, red is literally going to die if you don't do anything. who cares if anti gets mad at you for helping him?? isn't red's life worth taking a beating for??

“That’s a good fucking point,” snaps Marvin, watching Red struggle. He puts his head up above the island, frowning. “He could be dying. Why haven’t you done anything, Henrik?”

A shot explodes through the air and a bullet buries itself in the wall a centimeter away from Marvin’s head. Shocked breathless, Marvin falls to the ground as though he has in fact been shot, completely deafened by the shot, loud enough to split eardrums.

“That was your one and only warning!” screams Trick, his voice hoarse. “Next time, I kill you, no fucking joke, do you understand me? Do you understand me? We don’t say that name. If I ever hear it again, I’ll blow your brains all over that wall.”

As though struck down by the effort of these words, he crumples backwards, gripping frailly at his gun, and sits panting hard. Doktor tries to pull his face towards him, but Trick just groans and stares at the floor, shaking frailly.

“Okay,” whispers Marvin. “Okay. I guess I’ll, uh. I guess I’ll take care of this myself.”

Shaking so hard he can barely breathe, he starts pulling open cupboards, looking for the first aid kit.

“Farthest on the right,” comes Doktor’s small voice.

Marvin finds the kit. “Thanks, H - brother.”

musical-in-theory asked: Marvin please get out of there! There’s not much you can do for them while you’re someplace that Anti has influence over

“You’re right,” mumbles Marvin, pulling gauze and a sewing needle and sutures out of his kit. “But I can’t move him like this. He’s lost a lot of blood and I think his head’s… bad. He needs to rest.”

He turns to Red, holding the needle. Red stares back, eyes slitted.

“This is going to be really fun,” whispers Marvin. He clears his throat. “Red. You need to let me help you.”

Anonymous asked: Anti definitely does not treat them well... but you still probably can't count on their help. Literally all they know is Anti, and they just want his love and approval. Maybe be careful about interacting with any of them? Chase and Henrik still seem close, so you might be able to use that if you have to. I think all of them are scared of Jackie.

“Those two do seem close,” mumbles Marv, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t expect any parts of any of them to still be intact, but… they still protect each other. You’re right, I need to be careful. Fuck, I wish any of them were themselves…”

He swallows hard and returns his attention to Red.

“Everybody’s scared of you?” asks Marvin, frowning. “Is that why nobody helped?”

Red stares back at him, sinking down against the wall. His eyes flicker and close.

“It’s okay. I’m here now.”

And, fuck, Marvin can’t help it, he’s crying. It’s been months since he saw him. He spent a long time thinking he was dead, killed when he went to try and save Jameson, and never came home.

“I’m here now,” repeats Marvin, and he slides forward on the floor, and tumbles against Red’s good shoulder, pulling him into one-half of a hug.

Anonymous asked: Red, I think you should let Blue does what he needs to. Anti trusted him enough to let him upstairs, right? And if Anti's unhappy about it, he can take it out on Blue later. But if you let Blue help you now, you'll be able to get back to helping Anti sooner. You've got to interact with your new twin sooner or later.

Red glances over at you, some of the aggression fading from his eyes. He blinks, reviewing your reasoning, and finds it sound. He does want to get better. Then he can make up for failing Anti. And, yes, maybe even help him bring his twin to heel.

He glances down at Marvin, drawing away from the little hug. In an act that surprises even himself, he reaches out and touches Marvin’s back, rubbing gently down his shoulder, just once. Marvin jumps and then relaxes, beaming.

“There you go,” chokes Marvin. “It’s me, do you remember me?”

Red lies back against the wall, staring at him. Marvin touches the side of his face and Red breathes out, letting his eyes slide shut. Strange, Doktor is never so gentle with him. Strange, he can’t seem to remember the last time anyone at all was gentle with him.

“Can I stitch that arm up for you?” asks Marvin evenly, stroking his thumb down his beard.

Red glances over at you one more time, and then nods.

loganandoli asked: Hey Carver! Are you doing ok? You said you liked people talking to you so, where did you get that jumper? Is yellow your favorite color?

Carver stands at the top of the attic stairs, his head poking out from behind the wall. He blinks and slides away again, unable to get a glimpse of the boys downstairs, and not allowed to join them. He sinks to the floor and stares dead-eyed at the floor.

“I’m okay,” he signs, without emotion. “Suppose I should be used to the gunshots by now. I do like people talking to me… No one ever talks to me… Who would want to, I just spend all day up here, alone, alone, alone, while the others are together… Bored, bored, bored…”

This last sign is just a tapping of the chin, and he does it again and again, flatly, more like stimming than signing. One of the sleeves of his sweater tumbles down his arm and he glances at it, eyes brightening slightly as he remembers the other half of your question.

“Anti got me the jumper,” he signs reverently, curling up in the big soft fabric. “He said my old clothes were silly. I don’t remember them, but they must have been. And I love my jumper. I love yellow. He says I’m the only light in the house.”

Anonymous asked: Where does Anti go when he's not with any of you, Carver? Does he leave you unattended often? I imagine it must get lonely.

“Oh, I’m alone often, but don’t - ” Carver shivers and glances around the hallway. “Don’t say lonely, Anti doesn’t like it. When he’s gone, I don’t know where he goes. He never tells me, just says ‘stay put, be good boy.’ So I do. I think he becomes…” Carver struggles to find the right signs, frowning. “Like the internet. In the computers. Lightning, color, screech, glitch.”

spicydanhowell asked: carver, what does anti do when he spends time with you? does he take care of you? does he ever do anything to hurt you?

“Anti,” signs Carver, getting to his feet. You watch as he begins pacing back and forth across the hallway, and then just turning in circles, back and forth, back and forth. “I wish he was here now! We tussle sometimes or I lie on his lap and read if he brings me a book, and sometimes we even watch something on the computer! Old movies, I love them, I love it when he’s home! And then sometimes we go out, of course, and sometimes he wears me and sometimes I wear me, but one way or another we’re together, and we do things that he says are important.”

Apparently dizzy from the circling, Dapper flops unceremoniously to the ground and crosses his legs, peering forward at you. A certain light in his eyes wars with a glazed sort of joy.

“Of course he takes care of me, that’s my big brother and I’m his favorite toy. We eat together and sleep together and he got me my clothes and my charcoal. I love, love, love my Anti. He hurts me when he’s bored. I love, love, love… of course he takes care of me, that’s my big brother and I’m his favorite toy. We eat together and sleep together and he got me my clothes and my charcoal. I love, love, love…”

His hands falter and fall. He stares blankly at the wall.

“I wish someone would come see me,” he sighs. “I wish Poe would come back.”

Anonymous asked: Do you have a window up there, or something to keep you entertained? Maybe we could play a game while we're here!

Dapper claps his hands together and leaps to his feet. “Can we play a game? Can we? Or tell me a story, or anything, anything. Look, come here, I’ll show you my window.”

He picks up the camera and carries you back to the big room in the attic, where a small but comfy bed is still mussed from a nap. He gets on the bed, on his knees, and carries you over to a small circular window. He pushes back the glass and breathes in deep, setting his chin on the sill and closing his eyes. For a second, all his frantic movements and twitching are gone, and he sits at peace, his eyes clear.

Outside the window, pine trees and the rocking ocean. Bird cry and washing waves. Carver whistles a sad little song to himself, breathing, breathing, breathing.

optimistic-violinist asked (similar questions copied and added by musical-in-theory and anon: ((You're probably gonna get a lot of these, but)) Who's Poe? Also, your jumper is lovely Carver. Yellow's my favorite color :)

“It is lovely!” cheers Dapper, beaming at you. “I love the yellow! I am sunny, sun, star, yellow.”

He draws you back slightly so you can get a better view of the pine trees. “Poe is my friend, she comes sometimes when I have food. Clever, clever girl, I love my Poe. But she hasn’t come in some days. Maybe I don’t have anything shiny or tasty enough. I wish she would come see me, even if she pecked my fingers again. Silly. My pretty girl. I need to find something to get her to come again.”

Anonymous asked: So Anti, nice little dollhouse you've got here. I know you've still got a "toy" to break in, but uh what's the plan after your full set is in place? You throwing a house party? Will you invite Jack? Or is he... not in the picture?

Static consumes your screen and then disappears again, revealing Anti now, summoned by his name. He is smiling at you, cool and self-satisfied.

“It is a nice little dollhouse,” he purrs, stepping closer to the camera.

You can’t tell where he is. Nowhere in the house.

“But don’t worry, we won’t be here long. We’ll have to have a house party somewhere else. I still have things to do, hearts to eat… You know how it is. But as for that last idea…”

Anti’s eyes are momentarily distant, he looks away from you.

“I’m… happy with what I have,” he says, drawing away.

He plays with the knife in his hands, shaking his head. “I’m fine like this. Don’t need anything else. I have them to keep me company. I don’t need him. That’s what I told him, that’s what I… he can’t find me. We’re safe.”

He looks back up at you and moves closer again. With surprising gentleness, he picks you up. “It’s just us and the boys,” he says, smiling. “It’s okay. We’re okay. And don’t worry, okay? Don’t have to be so skeptical. I do need to break Blue in, but I’ll be gentle, alright? Just because I like to have my fun doesn’t mean I want the poor thing shattered. I worry I took some of the others too far, you know… my shaky little puppies…”

Anonymous asked: Oh! Is poe a raven?

Dapper waves his hands in silent applause, grinning. “She’s huge and beautiful! I love her! When do you think she’ll come see me again?”

Anonymous asked: I was thinking of I Spy! There's a lot more to look for outside a window than in just the attic. Do you want to try spying for things, Carver?

“Oh, yes, please.” Carver sets his chin on the sill again, looking seriously out the window. “Should I go first? I spy, with my little eye… something. . . I’m colorblind. Uh, something flying! It’s probably orange. Ah! I wish it would come up here!”

Anon asked: Could it be a little bird? And if you don’t mind me asking, what kind of colorblind are you? Spicydanhowell commented: butterfly??? Ari-trash commented: a bird? Snow-lavender commented: Flying orange… Oh! Is someone throwing fruit at the window?

(Reblog) “Throwing fruit at the window!” That makes him laugh, bouncing on his knees on the bed. “No, but good guess, all good guesses! But only one right. It’s a butterfly! Good job! You’re all good at this game.

“And I’m about as colorblind as I can be. The whole world is black, white, and grey to me. But I wouldn’t know any different. Colors are just words to me.”

He puts his hand on his chin and sighs. “Tell you what,” he says, smiling at you. “Come back in a few hours and ask me again, and I’ll spy something really beautiful for you if Anti’s not with me. It’s my favorite thing about living up here.”

snow-lavender asked: Hey Trick, I'm a little confused, maybe you could clear this up. Is there a reason Dok's old name is super-bad-no-no-territory, but Red's isn't?

“Fuck,” hisses Trick. “Did he say his name? When? Did you hear it, Dok?”

“Probably,” shrugs Dok, peeking up from the nest. “But I can’t remember what it was.”

“I need to pay more attention.”

“You did your best.”

“I can’t remember what Red used to be called by the bad man. If you hear it, please tell me. Actually, don’t! I shouldn’t remember it! But - oh, I don’t know.”

His face is white with exhaustion. His stomach is snarling.

“It’s okay,” says Dok, but when he reaches out to touch his shoulder, Trick pushes his hand away.

florenceisfalling asked: what do you mean "[you're] safe," anti? would jack even present a threat at this point? and i also feel like you don't really understand the definition of gentle

Anti snarls and turns away from you. “Jack’s nothing now. They belong to me now and he’s not stealing them away. He can’t do anything. Of course he’s not a threat. As if anything could be…”

He straightens up again and breathes in deep.

“Nothing threatens me. Time itself belongs to me now. Without mortality, what is there to present a threat?”

cutiepotato777 asked: Anti. Who is your favorite puppet and why? :P

“There’s a real question.” He pulls you closer. “Favorite? I try not to have favorites, they all just need to be treated in different ways. Some of them are more timid than others. Some of them need more affection, some of them need more punishment. Obviously little Dapper, so powerful, so erratic - he has to stay close to me. But Trick and Doktor have learned to keep each other in line, and Red works best when he feels like he’s failing. So you see they all get what they need, and I still love them all despite their differences.”

He smiles into the distance. It’s growing closer to evening and he’s outside, cool fall sunlight drifting over his brown hair and turning it red. His eyes are full of clear lovely light.

“My puppets. My family. I still love them all.”

florenceisfalling asked: dapper, if you're /completely/ colorblind, how do you love yellow so much?

“Anti tells me it’s nice! He says I’m the only light in the house. Did I tell you that already? I love yellow. Anti likes it. And my jumper is yellow, and I love my jumper. Happy color. We’re happy here.”

spicydanhowell asked: marv... i hate to say it but maybe you should just look for a way to slip out now. come back for them when your strong enough, yeah?

“Okay, yeah, yeah.” He’s finishing bandaging up Red’s wrist and his brother is slack against his shoulder, his face still taut with pain. “Yeah, I’ll just… go. Maybe I could, um…” He glances at Red, and then at you, and mimics falling asleep. Glancing back at the med kit, he searches for something to stop his pain and let him sleep.

“Doktor, do we have any morphine?” he asks.

“Is Red… calmer?”

“Yeah, he just seems exhausted, and he’s in a lot of pain.”

There’s a long pause. He hears a creaking noise, some heated whispering from the other side of the room, and then, a moment later, Doktor appears in the camera’s view, standing behind Blue.

“I might,” he says. “Or something for the pain, anyway.”

Marvin chokes on a sudden wave of emotion, staring up at him. “Okay,” he manages. “Um, I’ll just - I’ll just let you handle that.”

“No, wait a moment,” protests Doktor, sitting down beside him. “Let me see hand.”

“Look, bud, I have to go.”

“Hand,” demands Doktor, adjusting his broken glasses.

Marvin glances at you, but holds out his hand, slicked in both Red’s blood and his own.

“I must stitch this up for you, is all the way through.”

Not waiting for an answer, Doktor picks up the needle and thread. Both Red and Doktor hold onto Marvin. Trick, anxious without his twin, sits pointing his gun at the island. Marvin’s eyes flicker frantically back and forth as he considers.

Anonymous asked: hey carver... do you feel well? in your head and in your body? are you safe? fed? you can tell us if you're not okay

For a second, Carver just stares out the window.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he signs after a moment, not looking at you. “Some days, I think I’m losing my mind. I’m scared. I don’t know what’s happening to me anymore. It’s like my brain knows something I don’t. I’m supposed to be happy. Usually I am… but it’s so much happiness… it’s so much happiness at once, and I sometimes faint I’m so happy, with my heart going so fast and everything so white and then… it’s darkness again…”

musical-in-theory asked: Dapper, are you sure that’s happiness?

“I feel wonderful when it happens. I don’t know what else it could be. I just wish it wasn’t so painful afterwards. It just - ”

The camera screen glitches hard. Anti appears in the doorway, looking a little worn, wearing Jack’s form. Dapper turns quickly, his heart jumping, and his face lights up with relief when he sees him. “Anti!”

“Hi, baby.” Anti comes up to him and plants a kiss in his hair, sitting down on the bed and then pulling him to lie down beside him. Dapper goes willingly, curling up on Anti’s chest, and Anti closes his eyes, sighing deep.

“Feeling better?” he asks. Dapper nods against him.

“M’kay. Good.” He opens his eyes up again to look down at him, smiling faintly at his big blue eyes. “They talking to you?”

“Yeah.”

“Being nice?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, they better.” He covers Carver’s eyes with a gentle hand and turns his head to you, smiling coldly. For a second, his eye is vividly red. “And not ask any stupid questions if they want to keep talking to you.”

Anonymous asked: Marvin, for the moment at least, I suggest sitting your ass right down. All eyes are on you, tensions are high. They're expecting you to pull something and they're not having it. As much as I want to see you escape, I want you to escape with as few bullet holes as possible. In the meantime, build up a somewhat stable level of trust, yeah?

“But this might be my only chance to - ow!” He winces as Doktor pricks his skin, beginning to sew up both sides of the wound Anti gave him. Red, only partially conscious, growls out a warning, and it’s Doktor turn to flinch - but they all fall silent, and nothing happens. In short order, Doktor cleans Marvin up, bandaging his hand and even his bruised ribs, looking him over with hands just as warm and as careful as they were the last time they were together, on the run, whispering reassurances to each other in the darkness, we’ll be safe, it’s okay, we’ll get Jackie and Jameson back, don’t give up on them, don’t give up on yourself…

Marvin blinks away tears, staring at him. “I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers.

Doktor cannot meet his eyes. “I don’t remember you,” he says. “And I’m not the person you used to know.”

“Aren’t you?” asks Marvin.

Doktor ignores him. He gives Red a mild sedative and together they lie him down inside his sleeping bag, mostly out now, and still clinging to Marvin’s hand.

“Is he out?” asks Trick warily.

“Yes,” calls Doktor, wiping his bloodied hands on his jeans.

“So we can get something to eat?”

Doktor bites his lip and glances at Marvin, closer to the cupboards than he is. “Um… Could we have something to eat, Blue?”

Marvin blinks. “Fuck, why would you need me to decide that?”

“Red usually keeps track of the food… We’re not to take things without permission.”

Marvin turns to the cupboard and begins pulling things out. “Okay, guys,” he sighs, glancing back at Doktor’s hollowed face. “What do you want to eat?”

musical-in-theory asked: Well, Anti? You have your little kitten down there making friends, yanking on your strings. How pompous do you have to be to expect him to not have an impact on your stupid manipulations, you glitch bitch?

“Oh, no,” moans Anti, frowning at you. “Oh no, whatever will I do?”

He pulls Dapper closer to his chest, grinning slowly as he runs his hands down his back, kissing gently at his hair. “What would I possibly do if something went wrong? If only I had cameras all over the house and a time traveler and a sniper and could turn into a hunting dog and hadn’t enchanted him or cut a liter or two of blood out of his hand and wasn’t right upstairs and…. I’m boring myself. Leave me alone, will you, it’s time for bed.” He grips Dapper’s cheek and pinches it hard enough to make his little brother grimace. “Isn’t it, baby? Get under the covers, you must be tired. Let’s get some sleep. Let Blue have his few days of resistance. He’ll falter fast. All’s well.”

Anonymous asked: how much food does red manage to get? do you all get to eat every day?

“That’s a good question,” says Marvin, digging through the cupboards. “How much do you all get? Where does Red get it?”

“From in town,” shrugs Doktor. “What do you figure?”

“Anti gives him money.”

“Yeah, or someone steals it.”

Marvin grimaces, but Trick and Dok are just watching his hands as he pulls out granola bars, apples, some wheat cereal, canned fruit, blueberry bagels, a little tin of tomatoes, uncooked noodles, beans - “Protein,” Trick mumbles, reaching out to take them from him.

“Tell me this isn’t it,” sighs Marvin.

“Well, usually we have more,” grumbles Trick, picking the can open with nail-cracked fingers. “And I’m pretty sure Red hides a lot of other stuff, for in case we get hungry, or if Anti decides… But, well, lately everybody’s been focused on catching you.”

“Do you get enough to eat?”

Trick and Dok exchange glances.

“In your medical opinion?” suggests Marvin, turning irritably to the older of the two.

“Mhhh,” Doktor hums. He opens his mouth after a second, but a quick shove from Trick shuts him up again, and the two sit in silence, avoiding Marvin’s eyes.

Marvin sighs and slides two cans of peaches and the whole box of wheat cereal over to them. He is rewarded, to his surprise, with bright smiles from the both of them, and they scoot a little closer, shoulder-to-shoulder.

“I’ve got to find more food,” mumbles Marvin, rubbing his head. “This isn’t enough to run away on, and you’re looking like some hungry little motherfuckers, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Well, then, you better be good,” suggests Dok, nodding practically. “That’s how you earn more to eat.”

“Maybe Anti’ll even let us go into town instead of Red,” sighs Trick. “And we could get real food, cooked stuff…”

He sighs. He is hungry. He’s not always hungry, but… he is hungry.

At least the newcomer seems pretty cool. For now, anyway. Inevitably, Trick has found, at the end of the day there is no one who can be trusted not to turn against him and Doktor.

He does what he has to to keep them alive.

Anonymous asked: Marvin... psst... hey Anti’s asleep and he thinks he’s got you pinned. Now would be a great time to pull a trick and get away.

Marvin glances at his little brothers, eating, and at Red, asleep beside him. Extricating himself from Red’s grip on his arm - Red moans, reaching out for him - he brings himself to his feet, still wincing from his injured ribs.

“Um, I’m just going to glance outside,” he tells the boys. Trick glares narrowly at him, but Doktor doesn’t even bother looking up, and Marvin makes his way to the door of the little cabin where they live, putting a hand on the doorframe and stepping over the -

Stepping over the -

Stepping over the -

“What the fuck?” chokes Blue, shaking in the doorway. “Why can’t I move?”

No, no, nope. He’s not getting stuck like this. He’s not going to be a prisoner of his own head. He can do this. Focus! he tells himself. Focus!

“Hey,” growls Trick, turning his attention to him.

“Best not to strain yourself,” warns Doktor.

No, no. Block them out. Focus. He’s not a slave, not a pet, not a pawn. He’s Marvin the fucking Magnificent, and he -

He sets his foot over the doorstep.

“Holy shit!” he cheers, panting hard, his hands on his heart. Relief floods up his chest and he balances himself against the side of the house, gasping. Okay, he wasn’t actually sure he could do that. But he could! It was just -

Flick. Flick. Flick.

Marvin turns his head.

Anti is sitting on a log in the front of the property, flipping a silver knife over and over and over in his hand, staring out at the sea.

Terrified, Marvin swallows hard and creeps back into the house, falling shakily to his knees and bending in on himself, trying to breathe.

“I thought he was asleep upstairs,” he gasps.

It’s kind of starting to hit him that this is real.

Anti caught him. Anti caught him. After all this time, Anti caught him, and he’s here, and he’s very, very, very scared of what’s going to happen to him and his family.

He begins to cry.

Doktor and Trick watch him.

“He’s always watching,” mumbles Doktor.

And upstairs, curled against his little brother’s body, Anti turns over in his sleep, smiling.

 Anonymous asked: Dapper, you mentioned anti gave you charcoal. Do you draw? Can you show me what you use it for?

Morning breaks cold over the house, and Marvin wakes up ashamed of having slept.

Trick and Doktor, after a heated debate in the corner, eventually gave up one of their blankets so that he could lie down beside Red, and then retreated to their nest. You saw Trick spend the night curled up, but Doktor sits awake, watching out the window. A few hours ago, Trick was whimpering, but Doktor shook him a few times and he quieted again.

Red wakes up and sees Marvin a couple feet away. He moves away, watching him suspiciously, but he’s too tired to get up. He eats a granola bar, carefully taking stock of everything they have, and looks carefully over his own injuries.

And Dapper?

“Oh, my charcoals!” he signs, leaping to his feet and grabbing the camera off the windowsill. “Silly, silly, should have showed you right away, look, look.”

He turns you to the walls, once painted white, now chipped and coated in black chalk. Dapper whistles and spins you slowly around the room, showing off proudly.

They’re stunningly intricate and very lovely, except for that some of them appear to have been hastily drawn over, like the big deer in the corner - gorgeously depicted in careful, curving lines, only to be marred by huge dark streaks of charcoal drawn haphazardly across its face. On another wall is a pair of wings curling around a human body, and on another, Anti, or one of his brothers, anyway, low to the ground, turned away from him, holding a knife. The fourth wall is just the same pattern, a tiny swooping curve, over and over and over again, until the whole wall seems to shift with movement as you watch. This piece does not seem to have been done entirely in chalk, as parts of it shine darkly in the morning light.

“Good?” he asks, turning your view back to him. Suddenly he is shyer, brushing unkempt hair out of his face and watching you carefully, his cheeks slightly flushed. “I have more in the hallway, do you want to see?”

loganandoli asked: Of course we want to see more Carver!! Those drawings are beautiful! Did you use references or did you just draw most of them from your imagination?

He smiles brightly at you and all but skips into the hallway besides the stairs, showing the wall. This is a huge drawing of a raven’s head from the side. Sharp eyes stare darkly at you; the bird is shaded and coated in shadow, and as you watch, Dapper reaches out a careful hand and smooths a stroke of its feather with hands deeply scarred.

He turns you back to him for just a second. “Need to fix this,” he says.

He disappears and you see the wall behind him - a cracked mess of charcoal in a shattered wall that looks like it’s been stabbed a time or two. You think there used to be a landscape there, but it’s been smeared and destroyed past recognition.

Dapper reappears with a short stick of charcoal in one hand. He smiles at you and leans down to pick you up, a little shakily, with one hand, and turns you back to the drawing. The camera sways and Dapper gives a little gasp, reaching out to steady it before he drops it.

There is a quick thunk of something hitting the floor, and then rolling. Seeing that he’s dropped his charcoal, Dapper sets you down hastily and scrambles after it, reaching -

Too late. It goes thunk, thunk, thunk down the stairs.

He stands with empty hands, staring after it, despair written all over his face. His hands reach up to sign, but he can’t manage to say anything at all. He slides back into the darkness, staring down from the attic, torn between one of his only sources of entertainment - one of his only sources of expression - and the order Anti gave him.

Stay in the fucking attic.

He sinks to his knees, covering his mouth with blackened hands.

Anonymous asked: Are you allowed out in the hallway, Dapper? Do you ever get to go downstairs? But yes, I like your art very much and would like to see more!

“I’m allowed in the hallway but not downstairs,” he signs frantically, squeezing back tears. “Thank you, though, at least… at least I have the pictures still… even if I lost my…” He sniffles and wipes at his eyes, bitter. “No, I never go downstairs. And no one ever comes up. The other ones hate me, did you know… I think we used to be friends, but not anymore. You should see how they look at me… nobody wants me but Anti… They’re not going to get me my charcoal, even if they wanted to, Anti doesn’t allow them up here with me.”

Anonymous asked: 'Morning, Red. How are you feeling?

Red swallows dryly and glances at you. “Um, better,” he says, trying to muster a smile. “It’s just pain… I slept better than I usually do. I hope I’ll be able to walk around. I need to go into town and make sure the boys have enough food. Blue, too now, oh… I need to get him a sleeping bag and some clothes and things. Fuck, and Dapper’s meds!” He runs a shaky hand through his hair, looking stressed. “I don’t have hardly anything saved, I don’t know if we’ll have enough this week.”

He glances up at Marvin, who’s closed his eyes and laid back down on his blanket. Watching him, Red’s face softens slightly.

loganandoli asked: Hey Marvin.. did you hear that thumping noise by the stairs? If you did, you should check it out.

The thud of the charcoal falling down interrupts them all.

Doktor tenses over Trick’s sleeping body, curving a hand around his shoulder and grabbing his brother’s gun, just in case. The younger of the two is the better shot, but Deutsch has steady surgeon’s hands and he knows how to use the sniper. One of them is always keeping watch.

Alarmed, Red tries to rise, but he can’t get himself up on the first try, and Marvin reaches out to push him back down. Red jolts away from his touch, snarling.

“Chill out, man!” snaps Marvin. “Goddamn! If I was going to hurt you I would have done it already! Here, stay there, I’ll go see what that was.”

“It might be dangerous!”

Marvin rolls his eyes and points at you. “They said I should check it out, didn’t they? Try to calm down, man. I’ll go look.”

He gets up and steps around the island. The little chunk of chalk sits by his feet. Frowning, he reaches down to pick it up, and earns a soft gasp from the top of the stairs.

He can see no one above him in the dark attic. Holding still, Marvin squints up, and waits, in the tense silence that follows, for anything, for Anti.

A small movement in the darkness, nervous, shy.

“Hey,” whispers Marvin. “Is that… you? Jameson?”

There’s a low hiss from Red and Doktor, and he turns to see them moving away from him, shaking their heads, real fear in their eyes. Ugh, they’re so fucking paranoid about names. Marvin puts a foot on the bottom of the stairs, trying to smile up at Dapper, and this is enough to elicit a full cry of warning from Red, peeping his head up over the island.

“Blue, don’t go up there!”

“My name’s Marvin,” he snaps, and moves towards his little brother.

Anonymous asked: what is anti going to do with marvin now? he's trapped, but he's still totally himself

Your screen fizzles and words play across the image of Marvin moving up the stairs in glitching zalgo font.

“I don’t punish til the rules are broken,” reads Anti’s message.

Marvin is not yet in the attic. Dapper is not yet on the stairs.

“But once they are…”

A black shadow flashes over your vision. “Blue,” warns Red, louder. He cannot drag himself to his feet. “Blue, come back, don’t go up there!”

“That is when the learning happens.”

musical-in-theory asked: Anti, you mf!! Don’t you dare lay a hand on him!!! If I wasn’t trapped via the laws of fictionality I’d come beat your ass into next week myself!!

Laughter in the back of your audio.

“Hey, hey,” Marvin is soothing, making his way up the stairs. He can make out Dapper’s body now, huddled against the back wall, his knees drawn up to his chest. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. Did you drop this?”

Dapper’s fingers twitch. He hides his face.

Marvin rises, a step away from the attic floor, and stops, waiting, trying to give him time to uncurl. He stares down at his youngest brother.

He remembers a man as sharp as the blade of a knife but infinitely kinder. Talented, passionate, clever gentle Jamie, picking up violin one week and art the next, making suet for the birds and spending hours digging up weeds in the garden before darting off to whatever job he’d found for the week. He was unpredictable until you needed him, at which point he could, with an emotional astuteness Marvin had never seen anywhere else, appear like a little ghost to check on you.

Marvin doesn’t believe that a man like that could ever just be erased. This is still his Jameson.

He hasn’t seen him in more than a year.

Long curls fall into his silver eyes. Shifting a little closer, Marvin reaches out and brushes them away, revealing tears and a dangerous sort of wariness.

“Here,” murmurs Marvin, holding up the chalk. “Here, it’s okay.”

With shaking hands, Dapper reaches out to take it from him.

“There you go!” gasps Marvin, tears building in his eyes. “There, it’s okay! It’s me, it’s Marvin. Fuck, I - I’ve missed you so much!”

He reaches out to grip Dapper’s hand. Dapper jumps, and then his mouth splits into a huge and joyful smile, uncurling slightly, letting his knees drop and reaching out for some affection, touching Marvin’s cheek. Relieved to find one brother apparently cognizant of who he is, Marvin grabs his little brother’s hand to kiss it and steps up besides him, murmuring, “Jamie, Jamie, I’ve missed you-”

There is barely time for the fear to return to Dapper’s eyes before Anti appears.

Marvin gives a choking cry, staggering back as something slices hard against his neck. Anti flashes into existence in front of Dapper, reaching out to grab Marvin by the bleeding throat.

“Touch my baby!” he screeches, shaking him hard. Marvin tries desperately to scramble away. “Touch my little one! You are not allowed up here! No one is allowed to be up here with him! How dare you lay your fucking hands on him!”

There is a slam as Marvin is slammed against the side of the stairs, and then Anti spots Dapper scrambling away out of the corner of his eyes. “Oh, think you’re off the hook? As if you didn’t smile at him? As if you didn’t - ”

Marvin yanks himself from his grip and tumbles backwards, falling down the stairs a lot harder than a chunk of charcoal.

spicydanhowell asked: fuck, doktor, go get marvin he's hurt really badly!!

“Aww, is he hurt really badly, is he hurt?” Anti mimics viciously, grabbing Dapper’s wrist and dragging him after him as he makes his way down the stairs. “He’s not fucking hurt yet, is that what you think the worst of it is?”

“Anti, he didn’t know, he didn’t know,” cries Red.

“He knows because you told him!” snarls Anti. “You did what you were supposed to. Doktor and Trick know that what you say goes. But our little cat needs to learn his lesson. Then he’ll know.”

Marvin is splayed out on the bottom of the stairs, screaming. His wrist is completely shattered and the rest of the pain is not something he can pinpoint - just a terrible agony through his whole body. Anti grabs him by the back of the hair and drags him up, up, but he can’t make himself stand.

“You’ll get up,” snarls Anti. “Or you can go down these stairs the same way.”

Dapper is yanking against Anti’s grip, weeping. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” he signs, over and over again, shaking his hand up near his head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Anti, so sorry, please, please!”

Anti shoves him towards the basement and drags Marvin up after him, opening the terrible door to the basement.

It falls shut behind the three of them with a terrible finality.

Red lies slumped against his bag, too numb to cry. Trick and Doktor sit next to each other shaking, staring at the crushed piece of charcoal lying at the bottom of the stairs.

Anonymous asked: What are you guys going to do with blue now?

“Well,” says Anti, setting you on a shelf in the basement. Marvin is writhing on the floor, while Dapper backs towards the corner. “First we string the puppet up-”

His body glitches out of existence and something flashes like a shadow across Dapper’s body, you see him jerk backwards, still begging with his hands “no, no, please, please!”

His body spasms and he tumbles to his knees. Colors pass over him in sharp bursts of light, making him shake his head and cover his eyes. You see, for a second, a face that is not his own, and then -

Then he is rising to his feet, eyes pitch, and he reaches down to drag Marvin to the wall, chaining his wrists again, the one broken, the other bandaged from the knife wound.

“Then we carve the puppet,” signs Anti, pressing Marvin against the wall and pulling out a knife. Marvin begins to scream, slamming his head against the chains in his desperation to get free.

“It’s a process, you see,” signs Anti, pausing between slashes. “It’s a shattering, and then a rebuilding. A stripping away of everything, an offer of all he never knew he wanted. It’s affection one second and blood the next. It’s… an art.”

Dapper’s hands are still smudged in charcoal. Anti leaves it all over Marvin’s chest and arms. Marvin screams for a long time.

The feed stays up the whole time, but, eventually, you turn your eyes away.

 End Section 1 of Chapter 1: The Newcomer