「 ᴄᴀʙʙᴀɢᴇ. 」

ᴊᴏsʜ ʀᴀᴅᴄʟɪғғᴇ. hitman. etc.

[joshrad-blog1]

mvchellerad:

“We’ve talked about this, Josh, you’re not even in my league.” Michelle tilted her head at him as if daring him to try and argue that point. She was almost certain the biggest lie Josh had told her was that he hadn’t used up the last of the milk- even then, it had been a poorly done lie. 

“No, I’m not.” Josh admitted easily, of the pair of them she was more comfortable with lying. It flowed from her easily, and yet despite that skill, he rarely had cause to feel like she was lying to him. 

“I’m getting better. Learning. Could steal all your tricks before you know it.”

[joshrad-blog1]

hcydensinclairs:

“What happened?“ Hayden assumed Josh’s wounds were down to a job gone wrong, a mark who had put up more of a struggle than he anticipated. But he could have easily been involved in a bar fight or maybe jumped by a group of Lost Boys, they were responsible for the death and injuries of some of their men.

“Job.” He answered abruptly, his instincts telling him to leave it at that. Josh didn’t like to discuss the details of what he did, never one to brag or enjoy reliving it. A job was a job, and when it was done it was done. 

“Got away from me a bit.”

[joshrad-blog1]

masxnwilliams:

You sure? Mason could feel the words forming in his mouth, but they never made it past his lips. As most of Mason’s words of concern and worry did most of the time. Instead he nodded, knowing full well just how much good a drink and some painkillers could work after a job. Albeit, Mason didn’t use either of those to dull the guilt and remorse like Josh probably did. “Fix yourself up and we’ll go grab that drink then.”

It didn’t take Josh longer than fifteen minutes to wash his face and change his shirt, using one of the spares he left at the church for times like this. He didn’t like to go home straight after a job, didn’t wish to bring that darkness passed the threshold he shared with his wife. A pitstop at their temporary base and he could usually stitch himself together enough to shake it off. Almost. 

“Sheep or elsewhere?” Josh asked, a little surprised by Mason’s offer. The only bullet points they shared in common was their line of work and the women in their lives. His wife was Mason’s sister, Mason’s girlfriend was his best friend. Beyond that, they couldn’t have existed more differently, and it usually showed when they had to spent any amount of time together. 

[joshrad-blog1]

mvchellerad:

“Right, this is definitely nothing.” Michelle narrowed her eyes at her husband, gesturing towards his face. “My mistake, my eyes must not be working anymore.”  

“Must be all the disguise glasses.” Josh joked -- or as close as he got to one -- gesturing to hers in much the same manner. “Finally caught up with you.”

[joshrad-blog1]

masxnwilliams:

“It doesn’t look like nothing.“ Mason didn’t care much, Josh could take care of himself and didn’t need to be treated like an infant. Hook had asked Mason to check in with Josh after Dante’s death though, he had been meaning to follow up with the Captain’s request until his sister had forbidden him from visiting them in their home unless it was only under the pretence of her brother, not Hook’s hitman.

“Nothing a drink and some painkillers won’t fix.” If anyone understood the hazards of the job, it was Mason. He had seen the man in worse states after a hit. For all the planning that could go into the beforehand, sometimes it just didn’t play out as envisioned. That’s what made a good hitman -- the ability to adapt. 

[joshrad-blog1]

hcydensinclairs:

“I never said anything.“ Hayden had been staring though, it still jarred him whenever Mason, Smee or Josh returned to the Cinema or the Church with evidence of their latest job splattered across their shirts or bruises on their faces when there had been a struggle. Hayden couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what the person who killed Chuck had looked like after they had killed him, splattered with his blood or showing signs on his face that he had put up a fight. Had he? Hayden didn’t even know that much about his brothers death. 

“Okay.” Josh responded, his eye meeting Hayden’s then. He felt like the dealer was always watching what was going on around him, maybe more so than Josh did. It would have unnerved him if he hadn’t been so aware of what a necessity it was to watch your back around Neverland. Now more than ever. 

[joshrad-blog1]

“What?” Josh asked, as though the marks on his face weren’t glaring. His latest hit had more fight left in him than he anticipated. It had mirrored his own own will to survive when he had been held captive. Distant days that still crossed his mind. Empathy hadn’t been enough to deter him from finishing his assignment. 

“Few cuts and bruises. It’s nothing.”

[joshrad-blog1]

gabrielwhitmns:

Mason had been the one the Captain had told Gabriel was going to be pulling off the job for him when he had asked him to acquire the materials needed from Helena Luther, but when Gabriel had spotted the other hitman emerging from the bathroom with glassy eyes that could only be from the effects of dust he knew that it hadn’t been Mason who had completed the job. 

It had been Josh. 

Gabriel had never felt a kinship with Josh, not really. They were the opposite of each other. Josh was tall, with broad shoulders and a muscular physique that made him intimidating just to look at. He was also quiet, serious and too damn miserable for Gabriel’s liking. He needed to lighten up. Gabriel wasn’t as tall as Josh, and his shoulders weren’t as broad nor was his body as muscular but he was more charming, flirtatious and an all around happier guy to be around than Josh. (In his opinion, anyway). Despite their lack of friendship or mutual interests, Gabriel found himself untangling from the girls draped over his shoulders and pulled a stool out beside Josh; ordering them both what ever Josh had ordered but stronger.

“You need to work on your poker face, Joshua.“

Josh had an abundance of patience for the young thief who had saddled up beside him most of the time, taking the jokes and the quips with a grain of salt because that was easier than trying to differentiate which ones were in jest and which were more pointed. That night, his patience had all but run out, the dust in his system and the alcohol he was downing like a drowning man combined with his own self loathing driving him to a reckless edge. 

“And you need to get out of mine, Gabriel.” He warned, in no mood to play smartass with him. 

[joshrad-blog1]

helenxluther:

“You’ll get them,” She reassured, taking another drink of her pint before letting her eyes linger on him a little. A part of her wondering what the hell had him so torn up. “Soon as your eyes stop looking like a fresh glazed donut take stock and come see me.” Helena didn’t sell to drunk, high or enraged. Kept herself safe that way, sure it had lead to some awkward run ins. People who thought they could turn one over on her by just charging and taking what they want.  Only to end up with a bullet in their high and their wallet confidsendated like the most extreme principal in the world.  

Not that she thought Josh would turn it on her, she’s almost sure he’d deepthroat the barrel himself before it came to that. And neither was a favorable outcome. “Who knows, maybe if I’m in a good enough mood I’ll make a house call.” 

Josh nodded, knowing there was no sense in arguing. He had done business with Helena long enough to know that when she put her foot down on something, it was useless to try and make it budge. That, and he was in no fit state to be stocking an armoury at that exact moment in time. 

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll come to you.”

[joshrad-blog1]

mvchellerad:

Michelle followed him silently- a first in her life, but she knew better than to try and speak now. Reaching Josh when he was like this was like trying to make gold out of yarn, and she was no fairytale creature. 

Josh only made it a few steps before his foot connected with a bin that was just before the overpass, sending it’s contents flying. He tended to cycle through the five stages of grief in the immediate aftermath of a hit, more often than not taking some solitary time to process that before he returned to a comfortable numbness, ready to do it all again. 

He slowed then to a standstill, looking skyward before he looked at his wife. 

“It had to be done.”

[wickerjulias]

— Obi-Wan Kenobi

[joshrad-blog1]

helenxluther:

“I can imagine.” She thinks it’s a hit, maybe even an unsavory one due to how much wind had been knocked out of the man. Helena regarded Josh as a soldier, most would think it was undermining his rank in Hook’s crew but anyone who knew Helena well enough knew she didn’t throw military terms around loosely. 

He is soldier because he hates what he does but loves the people he does it for. Too many people in Neverland got too caught up in the spite of it. They stripped the enemy of their humanity because it was easier to see them as just the enemy. Josh didn’t seem to like to do things the easy way. He felt it, every life he took he felt it. It made arming him each time a little bittersweet but it never made her pause. 

“ I am able to do all things through they who strengthens me.”  Philippians 4:13, Helena wore a necklace of Michael and Jude around her neck, the first pendant a gift from her father when she turned eighteen and Jude after a night where she stumbled out of this very bar only to pass out on the pavement outside. 

“Tonight, they will be spirits of a different kind.”

If her words were intended to offer some comfort, they failed in their task. Her bastardised bible quote reminded him of church, not the kind the Rogers squatted in but the sort his mother had hauled him to as a boy. She had been determined to set him on the right path, and yet he ended up here anyway.

He wondered if it might have all been different for him if he had of been convicted of murder at trial. Mark had been an accident, he still swore to this day that the trigger had been on. It seemed funny to him now, being declared innocent in a court of law only to grow and do everything he could think of to tarnish that innocence.

He allowed her words to linger before he speaks again, clear and concise.

“Need more guns.”

[joshrad-blog1]

streetwclkers:

“Could I get you something else?” Effie questioned with a smile, sliding the double vodka over to him. She knew his name. Truth was, she knew most names. But that was rarely the case when the tables were turned. Still, Josh had been someone that she’d encountered at the cinema, at the church. She knew his wife. It didn’t make them friends but she at least looked at him with warm familiarity in her eyes.

“Are you alright?”

“Just another when this one is empty.” Josh instructed, not intending for it to sound so brash but he couldn’t muster up any other way to say it in his current haze. 

“I’m fine.” Lie. “Just great.” And another.

[joshrad-blog1]

mvchellerad:

“Josh.” Michelle put her hand on his shoulder, silently imploring him to listen to her now. When he was in a state like this he didn’t think rationally, or worse yet, his logic told him to do what went against every survival instinct that he had left in him. 

“Please come home with me.” 

Home. That was the word that had started all this. The Lost Boys had taken their home from them and they had to pay for that. It seemed just in his mind when he went round and round on it, but his home had never been a run down cinema, it was the woman who’s hand gripped his shoulder and teetered him to reality. Was Dante that for somebody? Who’s home had he wiped from existence. 

He said nothing but abandoned his glass, his self-destructive tendencies lessened with her presence. The stool’s legs screamed against the floor as he pushed it back and walked out of the pub, heading off in the most obscure route possible to their flat. 

[joshrad-blog1]

helenxluther:

“You look like shit.” Helena said bluntly, taking a seat beside the man she’d grown to know well in her time in Neverland. Unaware of everything about to go on only a few feet away from here.  “Open a tab,” She tells the bartender at the Sheep, sliding into the stool next to Josh as she spoke. “His drinks are on me.” She didn’t know what was going on, but she knew from the looks of him it wasn’t good. 

Josh would have declined her offer if he didn’t know how short a tab that would be. His watch had never felt so heavy on his wrist before. Could he actually feel the seconds ticking by viciously or was that the dust taking a hold? 

Helena to Josh was an omen of death, his first port of call before a job when he needed something new or something extra to see it done. It seemed only fitting that she should appear at his side that night. 

“It’s been a long night.”

[joshrad-blog1]

mvchellerad:

Michelle had only caught a glimpse of her husband as he disappeared into the bathroom. She had come to the Sheep to meet with Roxy, but chaos soon descended, leading most to run out to survey what had been done. 

Josh running in only meant one thing to her- an idea proven when he emerged looking more doped up than she had ever seen him. 

Standing up from her table, Michelle calmly made her way over, never one to play her cards in the first hand, even with her husband. 

“We can’t be here, right now.” 

Josh’s hand gripped the glass tighter when he heard that familiar voice, feeling a mixture of relief and horror that she was there. She was here which meant she was okay but she was here now which meant her having to see him in a state he tried to shield her from. 

Staring forward, he focused on a bottle of Jim Bean on the shelf, the label peeling ever so slightly at the corner. Where dust brought other’s up and granted them the high of their lives, it made Josh hyper focused. His mind focusing on one thing rather than the ten things usually plaguing him was a high in itself. 

“We have a few minutes.” He would know, after all. 

[joshrad-blog1]

Josh slipped into the Sheep once he had ditched the evidence of what he had done where no one would find it. He made sure now to be the one thing he usually tried his best not to be -- seen. 

Hook had been very specific that they would claim the blame but not the rest was need to know. 

It had been a long time since he felt this way, so desperate to disappear into himself, to hide in the prison of his own silence and not face anything or anyone. In his earlier days he managed to do that with a line of dust and whatever mermaid caught his eye. The wedding ring on his finger halted him from the latter, but the former was still within his grasp. 

His thumb was still pressed to the side of his nose when he emerged from the bathroom, you never had to go far in Neverland to find a dealer or a stash. Glassy eyes stared ahead and ordered a double vodka, and he waited. Waited for the blast, waited for the carnage, waited to see just how much damage he had caused.