Cain Boseman || Sam Reid || 35 || Spiritual Messenger
There's a parallel made between Cain and an addict. He can have his mood-swings, depending on whether or not he's gotten what he wants. In general, he can be rather apologetic to the right people, nearly groveling, guilt around his neck like a noose. On the other hand, he has a spiteful side when things don't go his way, childish and dramatic. He gives off the impression that he would have patience, but underneath the skin his nerves are ticking away the seconds. His worst traits include being obsessive, manipulative, and ultimately self-serving (even if he is oblivious to this). At his best, he's hard-working, attentive, and holds a great memory for others.
What differentiates masochists from martyrs? Is it that masochists are driven by selfish, deviant, hedonistic desires, whose sole purpose is to feel the pleasure from actions that others spend their whole lives avoiding? Or is it just the audience? An audience that has taste. Seek out Cain, a man who lives for your attention, your praise, your admiration. All in exchange he will do whatever is needed to open himself up to you. If it means by the jagged edge of a razor that runs too deep against his arm, so divinely it must be.
There are complications when it comes to him and God, religion in general. He reveres one above all, very faithful, very dutiful, a man so devout it would make one of the cloth pale in comparison. Though the one he adores does not turn his blood to wine; instead the same blood that runs through Cain's is the same kind that whips through the arteries of his targeted affections. A sibling bond is so much deeper than anyone could ever imagine, particularly theirs, particularly between the three of them when only two have survived long enough to tell.
Oklahoma is dirty. It's a dirt-filled state. Not even tornadoes can change it. The land is meant for farming and not much else. It leaves much to be colored in. Grains of wheat pigmented in red leave a lasting impression to small eyes. It never washes out. Accidents hurt all the same as if those hands of an older brother meant to push harder than they knew they could. His parents never should have named him Cain; what other outcome could they have hoped for other than the one that followed? Down and down his little brother sank, grain like quicksand, mixing together, becoming one, abandoning the one who stood above with rooted terror.
Towns don't forgive mothers who want justice, especially ones who think they can get money out of it. The farmland was only worked on by the Boseman father, not owned. That specialty was someone on a paygrade well above theirs. Easy targets for a lawsuit when a young boy dies in their seed mill. Nothing came of it. Nothing at all. Shattered family ties was what came from it. A father going one way and a mother going another, two children going to neither, at least not for very long.
If the Lord does not serve you penance, you have to find it on your own. The path to your own salvation must be forged outside his hands by someone closer, someone who never asked for it, someone who owns the keys to retribution for your misdeeds. Abilene, sacred sister, whose entanglement in DNA has forced you to become his welcomed reckoning, how you must share in a curse that isn't yours.
She left him, her job undone, and shall never be until the last breath is taken. Whose betrayal is this to claim? The martyr, or the masochist? Let the audience decide.
Cain does not come from a family who was rich in religion; in fact, you could say they strayed from the righteous path long before he blew into their world. What they lacked in that department, he more than made up for it, latching onto it from an outside source. He picked out what aligned with his own views of guilt and path to redemption, branding himself with its lessons to validate himself. He is only a devout follower to what he agrees with; the rest simply doesn't exist.
Before the outbreak, he was a collector of gigs, starting with whatever was available at his uncle's rodeo. Tending to the bulls, the riders, whatever made the time go by and pocket the small pay that came with it. On the sidelines, outside of the main event, there would be other vendors tagging along, roping in the stragglers. One of the tents belonged to Miriam, decorated with angels, artistic and spiritual, welcoming in those who wanted to communicate with the departed through her drawings. In time, Cain was absorbed by her.
The closest thing to a mother figure his life could offer him, he was fit to fill a missing piece in her channeling, a make-shift conduit to receive the messages clearer. Because of her, he has a fondness for the arts. The Incredulity of Saint Thomas. Judith Beheading Holofernes. The Fall of the Damned. All works that empower his enlightenment. Because of her, he ensures that those lost from the outbreak in his new home in New York are remembered in their final hours, to live on and be remembered.
spiritual guidance, drawing
His sister doesn't want to be tormented by him and forced to hurt him for his own purposes, so someone is going to have to fill the void!
Someone grieving has a lot of potential with him, and would be interesting to see what direction that goes in.
Anyone that tries to understand him and keep him away from his masochistic tendencies. Someone get a therapist on this guy. Will it work? Or make it worse? Who knows!
Abilene Boseman - Flesh & blood
