Comfort is an Oddity.
Death was never a kind beast. Sebastian was all too familiar with that fact in the cold light of the morning.
It snatched prey wherever it could, taking people who were far too young, far too good. It didn’t pretend to care, it didn’t pretend to distinguish, as all good hunter’s learn to do.
The thick vale of death had hung over his world for a long time, always threatening to take another swipe with jagged claws that had torn many a family apart. It had never touched Sebastian quite so close. Death had ripped away a part of him, the part that was most treasured in it’s golden youth but now lay picked clean by vultures, bleached white by existence.
Now the soldier sit staring for hours. Face sunken with a haunted stare , mind cold and empty as if it had been hollowed out awaiting the crown of lilies he had earned, each petal a life debt he’d never repay to that stalking beast , a payment only came with his own eternal rest.
The more the years went on, many were snatched away, and those that were left would wish it could be them. The world had gone cold, because of the plague that was death, and war.
He knows the names by heart; Parker , his eyes were like those fish in the supermarket , glossy and dark, sunken just a little too much. His hair matted into thick crimson strands, utterly still. Sebastian remembers so vividly touching his hand to his chest and then listening, feeling for a pulse in vain, waiting with some false hope that there would be breath , the boy was a day shy of twenty years old.
Nightmare is more of a night terror, because it feels as if he might just die from the pain in the inner depths of his own brain.
A never ending cycle continues , comfortable is an oddity instead of a luxury now.
Sebastian, after dying alone in the gutter of London’s decaying underbelly, becomes an angel.
At first he is confused as to how he’d deserve such a place but comes to realise that he is guardian angel of those who the world forgets.
He comforts dying veterans who have long since outlived any family members or aids those pushed to the brink by bullying to get help.
Which is why he is puzzled when he appears before Jim Moriarty, a man who seems to have everyone and everything that he could ever desire.
*slowly, with the back of their hand, then looking at it with distaste, mouth slightly ajar, then looking back to their opponent with an extra glint in their eyes…*
character i like: *wipes blood from their mouth and nose while smirking and saying something witty to their opponent like the bastard they are*
The memories were tattooed on his brain; etched by force , scarred by experiance.
The panic begins like a tightening of the chest, as if the muscles are trying not to let another breath in, but instead to die. Then every breath that is allowed is painfully shallow, lungs unable to move much against the suddenly lead-heavy weight of his own ribs. Sebastian’s mind becomes briefly static but that never lasts long; thoughts make no sense and the replays of horrors once forgotten start up in startling detail.
Before he fully recognises what is happening he is sitting on the floor,back pressed firmly against the cold yet sturdy presence of the far wall , limbs unwilling to work at all…. This had been going on for years.
A misty haze upon the horizons of the sniper’s mind. That’s were he kept everything,every painful secret buried deep in his mind. That was until now. He could feel the hard painful lump forming in the back of his throat as the tears began to form. A small but intense pain struck the top nerve in his head, there was shouting-.. they were his own yells , yet they seemed so distant. Tears streaked that scarred face. Time had switched to fast forward. Sebastian couldn’t remember the briefest of present moments but all of the past was in vivid colour, all he saw was his own bloody fists , tear stained shirt . By now the blond even recognized his own voice.
“I can’t take it anymore.”
( contained blood , violance and scenes of a graphic nature. )
( @mcgpie )
The knife pierced the tattoo of the man’s supposed wife , and went right on through to bleed dry the heart that beat weakly for his lover. It sliced the chest that had witnessed a million kisses and wrapped its protection around his beloved in their everlasting hugs. Yet none of that mattered to the knife or the blond weilding it , and his blood was as red as any other poor soul who had found the misfortune to face with the wrath of Moriarty’s pet.
The passage of the light slowed and the sounds became as if underwater. Aside from the beat of his own heart. That pounding inside beat a rhythm to the words of the man’s execution; pleas for mercy that landed on uncaring ears. Glinting cold steel would become the informant’s judge and jury. The blade entered as if he was nothing, just meat, blood bones, carving a cavity into his skin as it burst crimson into the fading day.
The sniper’s face was frozen in a stoic mask of disintrest; eyes open with a glossy shimmer and mouth firmly closed.
“ The job is done , Tiger- ”
The voice rattled around aimlessly in the man’s mind , gaining no reaction , no flinch or movement
“ Time to go home.”
// So John has his Captain Watson voice , so by default that means that at some point Jim has been witness to Sebastian’s Colonel Moran voice .
Sebastian and John were peers in the military, saving each others life multiple times. After Sebastian’s discharge, they lost contact and saw one another again, as they played the same parts on different sides of the chess field.
Richard- Why doesn’t someone just call the police ?
Jim- Because that’s not how thing work around here Richie .
Richard- Then how do they work? can someone please tell me? because sometimes I fEEL LIKE I’VE GONE THROUGH THE FUCKING LOOKING GLASS!
Severin-Calm down Richard
Sebastian-Yeah , don’t be such a dick , Richie.