#thecrime

like. Demo would rock the traditional kilts, of course. But LOOK.

that is all

DEMOMAN TF2 SWORD SWALLOWING.

AND THATS A KINK HE HAS. DEMOMAN TF FUCKING 2 WHORE'D OUT, SWALLOWING A SWORD WHILST IN BONDAGE, GETTING HIS STUPID VAGINA FINGERED

the train is travelling fast. having been hacked by the red ring, who currently occupy it, they're stealing shipments and then intend to crash it. sdn dispatched heroes some time ago and they've since positioned themselves on the train, with some heroes splitting off to fight the red ring and others, specifically brute, being left to hack the hacker and stop the transport before it's too late. when shroud receives word that someone's trying to put a stop to their mission, he takes it upon himself to seek out the hacker.

he slips through each cart with stealthy ease, until he discovers brute, seated at a portable screen. he's distracted, so much so that when shroud approaches his position, brute mistakes him for a teammate and says what do you want? i'm busy.

01. who have they lost? who were they to them? what impact did their loss have?

indigo "digs" porter was a woman ghost established a relationship with during his time in a fighting pit. a love interest, she was the first person for simon to have developed feelings for since the outbreak. when simon had wholly given up on survival, she'd helped him see the light in surviving and the two had planned to escape the pit and start anew, together. unfortunately, when the time finally came to escape, digs was shot and swarmed by infected. when simon tried to embrace death with her, an explosion separates them and he's forced to escape alone - coming back days later to free digs from the infection. as difficult as ghost found overcoming the loss of digs, she had brought him new hope. initially caught attempting to locate her brother, simon decides to continue the search for him. this leads him on a new adventure, where he meets new people and further grows as an individual. indigo's death leads to a blossoming in simon, which is what she would've wanted.

14. what simple things do they miss most? what do they crave?

good tea. it might sound ironic, but simon's a big fan of tea and fully believes you can mess up making it. he drank his fair share in the military - of shit tea, that is, and will go out of his way for a good, quality cuppa. he enjoys the smaller things in life, as much as others might laugh at him for it. there are few things simon craves, what with him being highly disciplined. he's capable of going without a large variety of things, but has decided after all these years that life isn't worth living if you're willing to make do with a cold or shit cup of tea.

19. do they have many belongings or do they pack light? are they sentimental at all? if not, is that since the apocalypse or from before?

simon packs compact, but light. everything he carries has a purpose, a use and a benefit at some point during his travels. he prefers to keep a map of potentially beneficial items when it comes to trading or exchanging, rather than carrying things around with him. as alejandro once said, the ghost is always prepared. he doesn't have the capacity to be sentimental. after all this time, ghost is a ghost of himself in that he believes himself to be dead. because of this, there's no sentimentality in death. at most, he sets up gravesites for himself to mourn his past - nothing more than flowers or a headstone, and perhaps a peaceful or nice location. here, he will mourn lost loved ones, also. as for physical sentimentality, no, he doesn't carry around items that hold sentimental value, has no pictures and has nothing to remember anyone by. he was this way prior to the apocalypse. believing himself to be dead, a ghost, meant letting go of all treasures and items of sentimental value. everything family-related was lost when he burned his family home down.

memes, accepting

knurled sticks, lobbed among hissing blaze. it’s a chill night. these bitter elements won’t shower mercy on two roaming, homeless children. their backpacks loll woodland floor. lives, selves, hauled upon backs.

august breathes a chilled puff. rubs warmth into scar-knobbed hands. (an act of fantasy. cold has long since cut into his palms, his fingers.)

somewhere, within the gloom, a mouse whines. an owl shrieks.