retired open post // will still tag in if threads are ongoing!

[exastris_scientia]

1. pick a character and tag them in the subject line.
2. post pictures, starters, whatevs
3. profit!

Comments

[thatwewillsee]

[How the fuck had they gotten here. Things had been going well, until they hadn't. Well, good enough as you can get with a mole running about and spilling secrets left and right. Hell of a first few months, Tuck couldn't deny that.

FDR was a standup guy, if not a little creepy in his approach to women. Aside form that, he was collected despite hissometimes spastic inclination. He took time to getting used to but in face of the other Americans he was used to, FDR was refreshing. Unlike the contact with a fist that whipped his head to the side.

What were they saying? Something about their access to some servers? Tuck wasn't listening. He was too busy wondering how to get out of this, if he would get to see another woman smack FDR across the cheek after he whispered something in her ear. He wondered, no matter the way they used his face and torso like a punching bag, if either of them would be getting home outside of bodybags.

It's tired, the way he turns his head to them dragging his partner near, dryly swallowing at the sass—getting too exhausted too add or reprimand. And then there are magic words after one of them opens a file, ones that make his head snap up; make his stomach drop and blood begin to boil.]

[Quite the medical record. Lucky you have insurance—having babies are not cheap these days. But that was, three, four years ago?]

Stop, [He manages a bubbling mutter, tensing his arms.]

[A little boy.]

Shut your mouth. [Tuck spits through gritted teeth.]

[Shame he won't remember you. Not that he'll have much time to miss you. Poor little Josiah.]

I'll put you in the fucking ground! [He roars over the amused chuckling of their captors, straining against his cuffs so much the metal bites and pales his skin.]

[clubrat]

[ It's all fun and games, despite the threat of impending death, until they crack open secure files they could have only gained access to from the mole. Selling state secrets was one thing. This was something else entirely.

This was fresh. This was too close. This was familiar in a way that left FDR blinking rapidly, and breathing in sharply through his nose. He licked at his lips, tingling and numb from the shock that swept through him. Shame he won't remember you. Tuck's kid. His little one, Joe. Little one waiting at home. Waiting at home for his dad to come in from a business trip.

FDR feels dizzy with an emotion that he can't quite name. Franklin? You're going to come live with us now. He was nine years old. He remembers the night they left for a date, or a trip, he's not sure which one it is. He remembers they didn't come back. There was an accident, and he didn't know for ---a while. Nana came to get him then, with a police man, and he never went back to their old house.

It can't happen to Joe. Tuck has to get home to his kid. There isn't another option. Dizziness gives way to a cold rush. There isn't anymore sarcasm dripping from his mouth. No more clever quips. ]

I can tell you something. It's really important. Life and death.

[ He shifts his hands and twists his wrist a bit, biting back a grimace as he pulls his hand through the cuff as much as he can without the final break of his thumb to get him free. He waits until they close the distance, even if it leaves at least one guy near his partner. ]

You should have brought more bodybags to put your buddies in. You might have to double up.