apassingafternoon: (for how long must I wait)
kαıηє {нคяd тσ Ъε รσƒт, тσugн тσ Ъε тεหdεя} ([personal profile] apassingafternoon) wrote2016-02-29 02:17 am

Love Me Not

They had gone about the path Bert described to her. Nearly two weeks along the perimeter of Gilead and the caves that hid here and there. Each discovery was an exercise in mental torture because the traveling itself wasn't enough, apparently. They either found nothing or the remains of what was once a person, gunslinger or otherwise. Neither option was any lighter on a group of men so hopelessly entrenched in understandable suffering. Kaine wasn't exactly a bastion of sunshine by the end of the first week but she began to look up a little as they began to circle back. It hadn't been discussed one way or the other yet but she couldn't help they were going to set off for their real destination very soon and it was difficult to feel anything but relief in that.

At least she hid it well, even as they made their way back towards the hideout. Their first passover had been a tense affair because it only made sense to check. It was a strangely angled little shack on a particularly steep hill. It would be difficult for any survivor to make their way up there but far from impossible. But Kaine had raised a fit to the point of hysterics, insisting that it be ignored.

No matter the consequences of said decision she didn't expect to hear a series of familiar, high-pitched noises. She stopped dead cold, eyes widening.

"Bert, did you -" Did he hear that? She couldn't slam the question out in time before it sounded again. "Holy shit," A delirious sort of grin took over her face. "That's a Guardian!"

Kaine stuck her curled fingers into her mouth and gave back a different rhythm of whistles, but she didn't wait for approval to start moving towards that disgusting shack.
askthelookout: (A deeper darkness)

[personal profile] askthelookout 2016-02-29 04:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Bert had lost some of his easy wit. Oh, in a battle he could keep it up, keep joking and smiling and mocking the enemy. But this? They had been travelling so long, and all of it in the same steady, unrelenting misery. It made it harder to have known the places they passed through, to remember the burned-out husks - most of them abandoned for years - as the thriving towns and villages of his childhood. Harder still to find anything to laugh at in the bodies they found, or the few close calls they had with Farson's outposts. For the first few days, he had kept himself together, kept finding stories to tell and comical little jokes to play. Then they had come fewer and further between, less light in his eyes, more weariness in his walk, and for the last few days, he had been sunk in a sullen silence.

He cried sometimes, in the night. They all did, besides Roland. They all pretended, in the cold light of morning, that they had not.

For the most part, though, he simply kept on going. That, too, they all did. They had lost one more along the way - not to fighting, but to an infection, one which had left him delirious and weak - and had buried him under a rough wooden cross and gone on walking. It seemed like they would go on walking forever.

In fact, when Kaine stopped, he almost walked into her. He'd heard the whistles, of course he had - he hadn't let himself slide that far into depression - but he had been watching the road ahead, not her. He stopped when she spoke, though, canting his head a little, listening. A Guardian?

"Hold up!" He hurried after her, looking more animated than he had in days. "Kaine, you're sure?"
askthelookout: (Striking out)

[personal profile] askthelookout 2016-02-29 08:02 pm (UTC)(link)
Bert didn't answer. Not in words, at least. He was already palming the shot for his catapult, breaking into a run. It wasn't even that they were Rebecca's girls, although that pushed him faster still: it was simply that after all this time, all this death, all these innocents lost, he was damned if he was going to let two more go.

He fired off two shots quick and clean, the steel balls striking their respective targets and sending two of the mutie dogs down without so much as a whimper. Another shot, less clean, took off a dog's ear, made several of them turn towards him, growling and snapping. He was almost on top of them now, and showing no sign of slowing.
askthelookout: (Striking out)

If we did, I can't find them. their names are now... emily and alice. yes. that.

[personal profile] askthelookout 2016-03-03 10:47 pm (UTC)(link)
Pain shot up Bert's leg as teeth ripped easily through his jeans. He fired off the shot he was holding before even letting himself wince, and then his gun was in his hand, and the dog exploded into blood and bone. It took him a couple more steps to shake off the remains of its head, though, and his calf was bleeding profusely.

"Emily!" he yelled, over the thunder of guns as his comrades joined in the fighting. "Hold on, Em, I'm coming!" Slower for his injury, that was for damned sure, but coming nonetheless, his heavy gun moving in his hand like a living thing, every shot hitting home.

Behind them, Roland rolled his eyes, but he was heading into the fray, too, following Kaine along the higher road with both guns blazing.
askthelookout: (Caught off-guard)

[personal profile] askthelookout 2016-03-04 10:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Cuthbert barely heard her. He could barely hear anything over the snarling and the gunfire and the thunder of his own heartbeat. Limping heavily, leaving a trail of blood from his damaged leg, he broke through to Emily at last, scrambled wildly up the scree and pulled her into a tight hug. He couldn't help himself - not even with the fighting still thick around them, with the dogs snarling at them.

He did at least have the sense not to hug her for more than a split second, though. He pulled away, breathing heavily with tears in his eyes, and stepped back to reload. "Alice?"

Emily pointed up the hill. "She ran," she said, her voice shaky and thick with tears and panic. "I. I told her. Run."
askthelookout: (Watching from the shadows)

[personal profile] askthelookout 2016-03-06 07:06 pm (UTC)(link)
Bert relaxed visibly when he saw them reappear. The man slung over Kaine's shoulder was a surprise, but one he could process later. For now, all his attention was focused on the girl, on Alice. Let her be alright. That's all I ask.

"She hurt?" he asked, reaching down to take Emily's hand, and started towards the shack. The first few steps he took backwards, keeping his eyes on the dogs ahead of them, and then he turned and started walking faster. His injured leg was bleeding sluggishly but constantly, sending stabs of pain up into his hip with every step he took.
askthelookout: (A bright new day)

[personal profile] askthelookout 2016-03-06 08:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Bert helped in clearing their path, firing quickly and cleanly until his gun was empty. Then he holstered it, unwilling to let go of Emily's hand to reload, and limped the last few feet at double speed, drawing the little girl along with him. He didn't let go of her hand until they were all inside, with the door closed behind them.

Then, with a little grunt of pain, he dropped to one knee and hugged her again, letting out a long breath he hadn't known he was holding. Emily let her axe drop with a thud onto the packed earth floor, and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him back just as tight.

"You're alright," he murmured, stroking her hair and closing his eyes. "It's alright. We're here. You're alright." Then, looking up at Kaine, "Who's he?"
askthelookout: (A bright new day)

[personal profile] askthelookout 2016-03-07 12:21 pm (UTC)(link)
"...We should." The moment when he registered the others was clear; he tensed visibly, his eyes widening. Gods. What a godsdamned miracle! Not only the girls, but two others, two more of his brothers still in the world. He smiled, feeling more like himself than he had since this whole mess began, feeling some flutter of hope rising in his chest.

Letting go of Emily, he got to his feet - or at least tried to. His injured leg seized, and he collapsed back onto his knee with a grunt. "Fuck! Ah!" Then, reaching over, he put his hands belatedly over Emily's ears. "Forget you heard that."
askthelookout: (Catching the sunlight)

[personal profile] askthelookout 2016-03-08 11:56 pm (UTC)(link)
"Roland's going to want a report." Bert addressed the gunslingers, grimacing as he pushed himself to his feet with an obvious effort. "You want to be careful letting him know you're alive, though. You might accidentally make him smile, and I don't think the world can take that."

His own smile broke through then, pain notwithstanding, and he limped past the Guardians to pull each of the surviving gunslingers into a hug, kissing them soundly on the cheek. "Fuck me, we were about to give up. We owe those damned dogs our gratitude, I guess." Then, looking down at his bloodied leg, he pulled a face. "Though I'll hold off on thanking them. Uh, anyone got anything by way of bandages?" It wasn't as messy as it might have been, but it was deep, and still oozing blood. By now, that was starting to tell; he felt a little woozy.
askthelookout: (Angry smoking)

[personal profile] askthelookout 2016-03-09 11:03 pm (UTC)(link)
"Thankee-sai." Bert gave Eunyce a winning smile, pushing himself to his feet, and cocked his head to one side. "They're still shooting," he observed, to Kaine. "Half a minute more, then I'll head out and get them." He didn't particularly want to interrupt the fighting. Not without a reason. It felt to him as though everyone involved could use a victory, even if it was only over brute animals.

"Is she going to be alright?" he asked, looking over Eunyce's shoulder at Alice's limp form, every inch the concerned parent. It would almost have been funny, except that for once in his life, he was deadly serious about his concern. He'd already lost one of Rebecca's girls. He wasn't sure he could take losing another.
askthelookout: (Firelit evening)

[personal profile] askthelookout 2016-03-11 06:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Bert relaxed visibly, though not entirely. "Thank fuck," he muttered, and raked a hand back through his hair. "And thankee, too, sai. I'm glad someone was around for them." No sarcasm, no wit. For the moment, his relief outweighed his incorrigible humour.

He looked up after a little while, and started limping towards the door. "They've stopped shooting," he observed, and paused for a moment with his hand on the door, counting off under his breath before he opened it.

Roland was on the doorstep, his hand outstretched for the handle. Perfect timing, Bert thought, a little smugly, and stepped aside. "Any of them left, Ro'?"

"Some of them turned tail." Roland looked up, pushing his hat back off his face. Then he saw the others in the hut, and for a moment, he swayed, the blood draining from his face, looking as though he might faint. "Fuck me. You're alive."
askthelookout: (Angry smoking)

[personal profile] askthelookout 2016-03-13 10:05 pm (UTC)(link)
Outside, the other gunslingers had settled against a spur of rock. One of them had produced a pouch of tobacco from somewhere, and was rolling a smoke - he raised a hand to Kaine as she reappeared, and even at a distance, his surprise and joy at seeing that she wasn't alone was hard to miss.

Inside, Roland took a moment more to collect himself, then moved in to embrace the two men. His eyes were pricked with tears, and he didn't particularly care who saw it. Hunkering down, he dug for his own tobacco pouch, solicitously rolling a smoke for each of the injured gunslingers. Not until they were both well-settled with a cigarette burning down between their lips did his businesslike attitude return. Beckoning Bert to join their little huddle, he requested a report from each man in turn, rolling his own smoke as his listened.

It would be half an hour or more before he emerged, and although his dour expression hadn't much changed, there was something a little lighter in his step than there had been for some time. Even this small victory had been a much-needed relief.
toweredingly: (Standing and staring)

[personal profile] toweredingly 2016-03-18 04:16 pm (UTC)(link)
"As much as anyone can," he agreed, with a small nod. "They'll never shoot again, that's for damned sure. But they're alive, and that's not nothing."

It wasn't a lot, either. What would become of them now? Gunslingers who could no longer shoot, whose home and family were gone, whose purpose had been taken from them? But they were alive, and that was something. That was more than they had dared to hope.

"Bert wants to stay until the girl wakes up. I can't argue with him there. But we ought to move before too long. Gunfire draws attention, and that's the last thing we need."
toweredingly: (Moody Ro' is moody)

[personal profile] toweredingly 2016-03-21 10:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Roland was quiet for a long time. At last, he shrugged one shoulder, tucking his thumbs into his gunbelts and rocking back on his heels.

"Truly? I don't know. Mayhap." He looked away, frowning, at the little throng of gunslingers nearby. "More than aught else, I'm tired. And I'm not sure I can feel much more than that, just at the moment." Then, looking back at her, with the full intensity of those bombardier's eyes: "Answer enough for you?"
toweredingly: (Dan-dinh)

sorry my tags are v. short and crappy lately idk why

[personal profile] toweredingly 2016-03-22 07:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Roland shrugged, turning away and looking out over the hills. He was quiet for a long time, his face set and still, before at last, without turning his head, he said quietly "We don't have enough horses. Not with Bert's leg in that state, not with more injured to carry. It's going to be a long journey."