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[ohprettyweeper-moved]

moved.

hey frens. i know a lot has gone on for everyone, on all different levels, the last year. 

if anyone is still interested in tøp content, i’ve created a side blog under my other main login to reblog stuff and move all my fics to, so i just have one login. it’s still @ohprettyweeper. follow backs will come from @iwantthedean, as that’s my main over there. 

i hope that no matter where you stand on the band these days, you’re all safe and healthy <3. 

[ohprettyweeper-fics]

FYI. 

[ohprettyweeper-fics]

The Last Bandito: Vulture Generation

Part Eleven: Denounce Vialism

Summary: Tyler and Ildri’s calm day is interrupted by information from Josh; Quinn is visited by Berit; two members of The Conference discuss the citizens’ reaction to The Vial.  Word Count: 2145  Warnings:   Angst A/N: Book #2 of The Last Bandito series. Prompts are in bold; translations are from Google Translate.

Masterlist

Several days passed without incident. It was the longest time that had passed since their arrival to Trench without a cause for worry — which, in itself, caused Ildri to worry. 

“It feels like the calm before the storm,” she confided in Tyler. 

He shook his head. “It’s a slow down. One we all sorely need. We should appreciate it for what it is.”

Ildri drew in a deep breath; he didn’t know the things that she knew. He could only speculate as to what was coming next. Tyler’s hand squeezed hers, and Ildri couldn’t shatter the hope he had begun to build. So, she forced as much of a smile as she could. 

“You’re right. We should take the opportunity to breathe. What should we do with our day?”

Quinn hid out in her apartment for three days after leaving the hospital. She knew that The Conference had to be looking for her, but the alert had not been spread over the city. 

“How could they,” she muttered to herself while she set water to boil for tea, “then everyone would know The Vial is a crock.”

The longer she was away from the hospital, the more her health improved. The Heathen virus was fading, as she had suspected. If The Vial had done her any favors, it was to bolster her genetic virus to work harder to overcome any foreign substance in her body — the ‘cure’ and the Heathen virus both. With that surge, the dearg-due within her began to surface at any given time. Quinn was thankful she had already been learning to control the monster before all of this happened. 

She knew she wasn’t going to be able to hide out here forever. Eventually, the same men that had been waiting for them in Ildri’s apartment after rescuing Tyler and Josh from Old Dema would come for her here. It was only a matter of time. 

The tea bag made soft noises as Quinn dunked it in and out of the hot water a couple of times before letting it settle and steep. She put two pieces of bread in the toaster, then stood back to wait for her small meal to be ready. 

In the same moment the toast popped up, a knock sounded on the door. Quinn’s breath caught in her throat; her cheeks heated as the monster swirled to life within her. 

“Stop it,” she whispered. 

Through the peephole, she could see Berit standing in the hallway. The threat of the visiting nurse was real, but Quinn wasn’t worried that Berit would be able to overtake her. If anything, the concern was Berit convincing Quinn to return to the hospital. 

“What do you want?” Quinn asked, almost before she had opened the door all the way. 

Berit stepped into the apartment. “Only to see that you’re all right.”

The door was still open; Quinn motioned to it. “You’ve done that. I’m fine.”

Berit pushed the door closed. “Quinn, you don’t understand. The Vial is being met with immense pushback from citizens. The Conference is scrambling, trying to get results — positive results — to give to the people so that they can see that this cure, this vaccine, is real. It works.”

“Do you hear yourself?” Quinn asked. “The Vial is a hoax! When you and the doctor injected it into me, my monster bucked against it. It’s poison, Berit. How many Heathens have they tried that on before they released it to the public?”

“More than a hundred.”

Quinn narrowed her eyes. “And how many of them are still alive today?”

Berit swallowed hard. “None.”

Quinn scoffed. “None. Not one. And you let them inject me with that? I could have died! Why did you convince me to stay? I wanted to leave. I wanted to die my way — which now I know wouldn’t have happened. My body is fighting the remnants of the Heathen virus on its own, just as I told you. So why. Tell me that. Why convince me to stay?”

Berit’s eyes filled with the tears of someone who has no choice but to, finally, share the truth. 

“There are a group of us who support The Conference without question. We have been deeply involved in the development of The Vial. We’ve invested time, money, whatever resources we could offer. Heathens and other non-humans, Quinn, it’s not how life is meant to be lived. The Bishops go against nature when they inject their own citizens with The Serum. We believe that the efforts of The Conference to cleanse the Heathens and —”

Quinn held up a hand. “Cleanse? I’m sorry, but I have to ask again — do you hear yourself? You’re talking in terms historically associated with genocide! The Heathens are not all loyal to the Bishops. If they were, the Bandito camp would not be growing as it is.” She pressed her lips together and crossed her arms over her chest. “I was born this way. Ildri was born the way she is. What about her? What about me? Are we abominations in need of cleansing, too?”

Berit was quiet; that was enough of a response for Quinn. She asked the nurse to leave, and Berit didn’t argue. Before Quinn could close the door, Berit turned back quickly. 

“They know you’re here. They’ll come for you. If you come back with me —”

But Quinn interrupted her again. “You convinced me once, Berit, but you won’t convince me again.”

With the door shut and locked, her tea and toast forgotten, Quinn scrambled to pack as much as she could. She hadn’t thought she would come back here before, but this time, there would truly be no returning. 

After closing the door behind her for the last time, Quinn turned to tape a note to the door before leaving New Dema for Trench. Only two words were written on the note but the words would leave a clear idea of where she stood when they came to find her. 

When Tyler and Ildri returned from their walk, Josh and Savea were waiting for them. Ildri exchanged a glance with Tyler before stopping in front of the other two. 

“We have to talk,” Josh sighed. “I had a dream about Faylinn. Not a good dream.”

Ildri’s eyes met Savea’s in a silent apology. “Is she alive?”

Josh shook his head. “I don’t know. Do you want the details?”

Did she? “No. I’ll have to go into New Dema, back to the apartment. Try to figure out where she went in New York.”

“I’ll go with you,” Tyler offered, leaving no room for questions. 

Ildri nodded her agreement and went to their tent for a couple of things she would need for the errand. Josh was quick on their heels, offering to go as well. 

“No,” Ildri answered quickly, again meeting Savea’s eyes. “Tyler and I will go. It’s not a mission, it’s an errand. Stay here, in case someone shows up in Trench. We’ll be back soon.”

Josh’s shoulder’s immediately tensed and he turned away without another word. Tyler frowned, but Ildri pretended not to see his silent question as she tied the bandana around her neck before pulling it up over her mouth and nose. 

“Vialism,” Claude Chevalley announced, dropping the day’s newspaper on Andre’s desk, “they’re calling the vaccine campaign vialism. The patient that received the injection at the hospital has left for Trench. ‘Denounce vialism’ — that’s what the note on her door said when officers went to retrieve her. We don’t know yet if she’s gone to Old Dema or to the encampment, but the nurse who cared for her says the patient refused to come back willingly.”

Andre took measured breaths as he skimmed over the newspaper article. “What would you have me do about it, Claude? The people are unhappy. We cannot deceive them with the results of the injection, of the trials of the injection. If we do that, we are no better than the Bishops. We are no better than the life we left behind.”

The other man glanced over his shoulder at Velika, who’s typing had slowly stopped as the exchange took place. Her eyes were wide and full of fear; Claude gave her a kind smile and asked her to put on a new pot of coffee in the staff lounge. 

“Of course, Mr. Chevalley.”

The young woman hurried out of the room. Claude raised a brow at Andre, who waved away his colleague’s fears. 

“She only has concern for the wellbeing of herself and her family. Velika is, perhaps, the only innocent soul left here in the city.” Andre sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll ask you again. What would you have me do about the Vialism issue? It’s a movement. Something we must manage in the sense of not allowing it to create chaos, yes, but it is not something we can stop the people — our people — from believing. Just as the Bishops could not stop us from believing there was a better life outside of the walls.”

Claude nodded. “When we were Banditos, brother, they called that a movement as well. They lost our trust, our loyalty. Are we next to lose these things of our citizens?”

“Not if we handle this with care — care, mind you, means not only with caution, but with the best interest of the people at heart. If they are concerned of The Vial, we will give them the information they want. No medication is perfect in its initial formation, but if we assure them we are seeking to do better, to improve the formula … they’ve no reason not to trust us.”

Claude picked up the newspaper and backed towards the door; Velika returned and resumed her position at the desk. 

“I hope you’re right, brother. I hope you’re right.”

The moment they entered the apartment — one she had never planned on returning to — Ildri wished she had never come here. A million memories hit her all at once, good and bad and in between; she had to stop at the top of the stairs to catch her breath before she could make herself remember why she had come in the first place. 

“If they’ve left anything,” she told Tyler, “there should be a stack of mail on the kitchen counter. Will you go through that and see what you can find?”

Tyler nodded, squeezing her elbow gently before going in search of the pile of mail. Ildri watched after him for a few steps before she turned toward her cousin’s part of the house. 

Faylinn’s room wasn’t empty, which told Ildri that her cousin planned to return — or had planned to return. There were still clothes in the drawers, some of her favorite jewelry heirlooms in an old jewelry box, and a picture of them as children taped to the vanity mirror. 

Ildri plucked the picture away from the mirror, leaving a scrap of tape behind. The picture had been taken only a few months after Ildri had been adopted. She and Faylinn hadn’t been quite the fast friends she and Tyler had been, but they had grown close in only a couple of months’ time. The nearness in age helped. In this photo, they were seated together on their grandmother’s sofa, smiling with big, toothy grins. Judging by their t-shirt and shorts, it must have been summer. A nearby window showed that it was dark outside, but the room was well-lit. 

What a contrast those two little girls were in appearance. Faylinn with her bright, happy eyes and naturally orange-red hair. Ildri’s dark eyes were already masking secrets then, and her hair was as dark a shade of brown as nature could muster. In that moment though, she was happy. She remembered that much for certain. The differences between them didn’t matter — hadn’t mattered until the night Faylinn followed her to Old Dema. 

When you realize who you are, then maybe you’ll understand. The last thing she had said to Faylinn. Had her cousin realized who she was? She was a citizen of New Dema. The cousin of a half-Heathen, half-human. The closest family member of the last Bandito child. Faylinn had always been a believer in what New Dema was supposed to stand for; she never would have been loyal to the exile if she had not been acting out of fear. She would have fought it, right by Ildri’s side in Trench. 

“Nothing in the stack of letters,” Tyler announced, “but I found this in her desk drawer.”

Ildri shoved the picture into her jacket pocket and took the letter from Tyler. The name and contact information for the publishing company was in the letterhead. Ildri nodded. 

“We’ll start with this information and hope for the best. Let’s see if the phone line is still connected.”

Tags: @nonsenseverses​​​ @tylersheavydirtysoul​​​ @apurdyfulmind​​​ @adversaryproject​​​

[ohprettyweeper-fics]

nonsenseverses replied to your post “The Last Bandito: Vulture Generation”

ahhh i’ve been waiting for this!! so many interesting developments and questions as always. i’m very curious to know what this vial is �� this was an amazing chapter and i can’t wait for it to continue!!

I’ve been dyinggggg to get through all the reblogs so I could start sharing new parts! Thanks for reading! 

[ohprettyweeper-fics]

The Last Bandito: Vulture Generation

Part Ten: Cracks in the Foundation

Summary: Josh dreams of Faylinn; Quinn prepares to receive an injection to cure the Heathen virus.  Word Count: 1835 Warnings: Blood, death, angst.  A/N: Book #2 of The Last Bandito series. Prompts are in bold; translations are from Google Translate.

Masterlist

He stared at the bodies on the ground, at the girl covered in blood. Her eyes narrowed as she struggled to stand up. 

“You’re late.”

As though the statement had taken the last of her energy, she fell back to the ground. Her body was limp and her eyes stared at nothing. The smell of blood, hers and that of countless others, filtered through the air — even as enticing as blood was to him, the smell was overpowering. 

So much blood. So much death. And, in the middle of all of it, was the woman who had taken up so much time in his dreams. Kneeling on the ground next to her, pulling her head into his lap, Josh said her name over and over — all in vain. 

She was gone. 

As the sun rose slowly over the jagged horizon of Trench, Josh shot up into a sitting position. He could still smell the blood that had smeared the edges of his most recent dream — nightmare, as it were. He looked around the tent, checking that everything was in its proper place, and that nothing seemed amiss in the camp. 

He picked up no evidence of chaos, but he still couldn’t rest any longer. Pulling his usual hoodie over his head and securing a yellow bandana around his neck. He stopped at the basin just outside the tent to splash water on his face; his skin chilled and prickled, but the effects of the dream lingered. 

Savea’s tent was right next to his, and Josh had only been seated next to the fire in the middle of camp before Savea joined him. He pressed his lips together and purposefully avoided acknowledging her presence. The dream was still too real, too concerning. He hated it but he didn’t want to talk about it, either. 

“Who’s Faylinn?” 

Her voice broke through the quiet of the camp. Josh tossed a random stick into the fire and continued to stare forward into the flame. Savea repeated her question, and Josh knew he couldn’t put her off forever. 

“Ildri’s cousin. I don’t know her very well — I only met her once or twice.”

Savea nodded, biting her lip. “But you were calling out her name in your sleep. I heard it from my tent. I’m surprised no one else did.”

Josh shrugged one shoulder. “Sorry if I woke you.”

“You can talk to me, Josh. You rescued me from Dema and you’ve shown me so much since I came to Trench. But it doesn’t mean I can’t be there for you, too. You can talk me.”

He stood, threw another random bit of twig into the fire, and turned back to his own tent. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Citizens of New Dema are finding themselves torn twice over. After the recent exile of all non-human citizens, some found themselves questioning the loyalty of The Conference to those the group governs. Now, a cure for the Heathen virus has been presented — and it also being touted as a vaccine. A number of citizens, we’re told, have already applied to be among the first to receive the vaccine, though a significant number have their qualms about the timing of the discovery of the cure-slash-vaccine.”

The news anchor’s attractive face was replaced on the television screen with that of a man Quinn recognized as the owner of a shop on the west side of the town. 

“Seems like quite a coincidence to me, this medicine being ‘discovered’ so soon after the exile and the formation of the Bandito camp. I have no ill-will towards anyone with good intentions, both The Conference and the Banditos included.”

The camera returned to the anchor. “The entire report of this new medication, which has been dubbed The Vial by citizens, has not yet been released. Rumors of protests have been circulated on the grounds — on the belief, excuse me, that The Vial should not be administered until the report is released and citizens are made aware of what it in the serum. While not yet offered as a vaccine publicly, those seeking a cure —“

“You don’t need to be watching any propaganda about this,” Berit said quietly, turning away from the television set. She pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves then checked the IV drip supplying Quinn with extra fluids before her first dose of The Vial. “The doctor will be in with your first injection in a couple of minutes. Your fluids are looking good, your vitals are strong. Are you ready?”

Quinn drew in a deep breath. “I’ve been feeling stronger the last week. I’ve been coughing, but no blood. Are we sure I need this?”

Berit pulled off one of her gloves and put her hand on Quinn’s arm. “We don’t know enough about the virus and how it interacts with your genetics to know if the turn towards recovery will last. If you turn down the medication now, it may not be available to you in the future. They aren’t being lenient with this — there’s no back and forth. It’s now or never.”

Now or never. The words cycled through Quinn’s mind as the doctor came in, setting a large syringe full of a translucent red liquid on the metal tray next to Quinn’s bed. He listened carefully to Berit’s report of Quinn’s vitals and a brief review of her case. The doctor check Quinn’s pupil’s, looked down her throat and up her nose, listened to her heart and lungs, checked her reflexes, pressed on her abdomen … the whole time, Quinn couldn’t stop herself from glancing at the syringe on the tray. 

“All right, Quinn, I think we’re ready. Are you ready?”

Quinn met Berit’s eyes. The nurse gave her a small, subtle nod, though her eyes read desperation. Quinn took a deep breath. 

“Yes. I’m ready.”

In the middle of the afternoon, word of someone wandering Trench made its way to the Bandito camp. Ildri, Tyler, Josh, and Savea went to search out the runaway, but it was now nearing dark and they hadn’t even seen a trace of anyone. 

“It’s possible whoever it was turned back to New Dema or was dragged back to Old Dema, wherever they came from to begin with,” Ildri sighed. “We need to head back; the sun will be gone soon.”

Josh and Savea walked ahead of Tyler and Ildri. The latter pair walked in silence, although the tension between them seemed to have dissipated. Since Tyler’s return from the road to Old Dema, one of them had rarely been seen without the other. As though they had their own language, their own mental connection, oftentimes they could exchange a look and seem to know what the other was thinking. 

“The connection has been re-established, I see.” 

Savea gasped and tucked herself behind Josh, who stood steady where they had stopped and turned toward Keons. Tyler’s red eyes grew in intensity, and a low growl sounded from deep in his chest. A brief touch from Ildri quieted him, though his eyes maintained their bright red color. 

Ildri took a step towards Keons. “What do you want?”

“Only to see that everything is going to plan. Just as we designed.”

“Your design,” Ildri scoffed. “I told you, Keons. Leave Tyler out of this. Your mind games are not welcome here.”

Keons grinned behind his black, mesh veil. “We do not play games, dochka. We make the rules. Don’t forget that.”

“I don’t forget anything.”

Without a response, the Bishop was gone. Ildri let out a deep breath and turned back to Tyler. The foursome turned back toward the camp, though the easy silence between them was now filled with an anxious quiet. 

When they returned to the camp, Josh and Tyler made to join some others at the fire. Ildri excused herself to her tent but promised Tyler she would join them in a few minutes. 

“I just need a minute,” she told him quietly. 

Tyler nodded and reached to squeeze her hand before following Josh to the crowd around the fire. Ildri went to her tent and stood in front of the basin, splashing cold water on her face. This most recent visit from Keons had been so short, but it was impacting her more than some others had. 

“Ildri?”

She closed her eyes and let out a quiet breath, reaching for a cotton cloth to pat her face dry. “This isn’t a good time, Savea.”

The younger Heathen chewed on her bottom lip and wrung her hands together. “I know that, but I — who is Faylinn?”

Ildri crossed her arms over her chest. “My cousin. Why?”

“Does Josh know her?”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but instead of asking question after question, can you tell me what’s going?”

Savea swallowed back tears. “He was calling her name in his sleep early this morning. I heard it from my tent, clearly. I asked him about it, but —”

Ildri held up a hand. “Listen to me. People are losing their lives. They’re being taken from everything the know — they’re being sent away from the place and the people that was supposed to keep them safe and protected. If there’s a jealousy issue between you and Josh, you need to talk to him about it.”

She pushed past the young Heathen, wincing against the cold wind outside of the tent and the harsh manner with which she had addressed Savea inside of the tent. 

Her blood boiled in her veins, heating her entire body from the inside out. The heartbeats of Berit and the doctor beat so loudly, she covered her ears and it still didn’t drown out the noise. The bloodlust was building within her; she didn’t have to see herself to know her irises had gone red. 

“Quinn! Breathe! Please!”

Berit’s pleas only served to anger the monster more. Somewhere from inside her mind, Quinn knew that she had to gain control before she hurt anyone. If declining The Vial was a questionable act, killing someone immediately after receiving an injection would certainly put her life in more danger. 

Have you tried controlling the monster?

Ildri’s words echoed over the noise of everything else. Allowing the dearg-due to control her every few months was something Quinn expected — until she had been able to control it the night she and Ildri had gone into Old Dema. She hadn’t expected the monster when The Vial infiltrated her blood, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t control it now. 

Within thirty seconds, Quinn was in control. Her fangs were still showing, her eyes were still red, but she was in control. 

“That,” she said, pointing to the syringe, on the floor, “is not what you think it is. You would do well to stop this now, before it affects anyone else.”

Quinn made quick work of grabbing her backpack and the things she had retrieved from her apartment before pulling the IV from her arm and rushing out of the hospital. 

Tags: @nonsenseverses​​ @tylersheavydirtysoul​​ @apurdyfulmind​​ @adversaryproject​​

[ohprettyweeper-fics]

The Last Bandito: Vulture Generation

Part Nine: Past & Present

Summary: Faylinn makes a decision; Keons visits Ildri again; Quinn finds a new hope. Warnings: Some angsty stuff? Lots of crying.  Word Count: 1540 A/N: Book #2 of The Last Bandito series. Prompts are in bold; translations are from Google Translate. 

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The Last Bandito: Vulture Generation

Part Eight: Sacrifice

Summary: While the Bandito encampment must rescue one of their own from a dangerous decision, tensions in New Dema continue to rise.  Warnings: None?  Word Count: 2320 A/N: Book #2 of The Last Bandito series. Prompts are in bold; translations are from Google Translate. You may recognize the inspiration for a scene or two in this one! Also, not sure how I feel about my new line break; lemme know what you think. 

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The Last Bandito: Vulture Generation

Part Seven: Of Dogs & Rabbits

Summary: Those in the Trench encampment recover from their recent loss; Ildri briefly entertains a visitor.  Warnings: Death, angst.  Word Count: 1595 A/N: Book #2 of The Last Bandito series. Prompts are in bold; translations are from Google Translate.

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The Last Bandito: Vulture Generation

Part Six: Get Out

Summary: Savea and Josh bond before going on a mission to Old Dema with Ildri, Tyler, and Eskil.  Warnings: Details of Heathen violence, blood, death. Some parts of this may be a little graphic, but I was on a roll … forgive me if it’s too much. I never know for sure.  Word Count: 1705 A/N: Book #2 of The Last Bandito series. Prompts are in bold; translations are from Google Translate. 

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The Last Bandito: Vulture Generation

Part Five: Twisted Up Inside

Summary: Faylinn’s journey in New York continues, and Quinn contemplates leaving the hospital.  Warnings: Hospital setting and associated details.   Word Count: 1600 A/N: Book #2 of The Last Bandito series. Prompts are in bold; translations are from Google Translate. 

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The Last Bandito: Vulture Generation

Part Four: The Visitation

Summary: Ildri, Tyler, and two new inhabitants from Trench make a trip into New Dema. Warnings: Threatening situation.  Word Count: 1705 A/N: Book #2 of The Last Bandito series. Prompts are in bold; translations are from Google Translate. Thank you to @faceofcontvsions for letting me use you as inspiration for a new character! 

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The Last Bandito: Vulture Generation

Part Three: The Memories Remain

Summary: Tyler’s memories battle between themselves.  Warnings: Kidnapping, life in Dema.  Word Count: 1585 A/N: Book #2 of The Last Bandito series. Prompts are in bold; translations are from Google Translate.

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The Last Bandito: Vulture Generation

Part Two: Statement of Purpose

Summary: As adjustments are made to the way life is now, some decide their next move. Warnings: Sickness, mentions of death.   Word Count: 1860 A/N: Book #2 of The Last Bandito series. Prompts are in bold; translations are from Google Translate.

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[ohprettyweeper-fics]

The Last Bandito: Vulture Generation

 Part One: Four Days After

Summary: Four days after The Conference hefted an ultimatum over the citizens of New Dema, the group finds themselves pulled in different directions.  Warnings: Sickness, blood, Dema/Trench-related things.  Word Count: 1550 A/N: Book #2 of The Last Bandito series. Prompts are in bold; translations are from Google Translate. 

I’m so excited to get this posting and see what you all think! Please feel free to share any and all feedback, including your theories! Tag list is always open. Here we go! 

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[ohprettyweeper-moved]

The Last Bandito

Part Fifteen: Time, Leave the City

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: After New Dema issues an ultimatum, everyone must decide where their loyalties now lie.  Warnings: Angst? Word Count: 1180 A/N: This series was borne of this picture. The bolded phrases are prompts I have compiled to use in this fic. Also, I’ve forgotten to mention before that for the phrases in Ukrainian, I’ve been using Google Translate; forgive me if they’re not accurate! – This is the last part of this series but there will be a sequel! I already have a title and a title card (ahead of myself, I know), though posting it may be a little ways down the road. Thanks everyone for reading! 

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[ohprettyweeper-moved]

The Last Bandito

Part Fourteen: Drawing Lines in the Sand

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Chapter Summary: With everyone back in New Dema, they must choose which side of the war between the old and new cities they will take.    Warnings: Angst?  Word Count: 2275 A/N: This series was borne of this picture. The bolded phrases are prompts I have compiled to use in this fic. Also, I’ve forgotten to mention before that for the phrases in Ukrainian, I’ve been using Google Translate; forgive me if they’re not accurate! – This is the second to last part for this series! I’ve decided that where I want to take it after part fifteen is better in a sequel than continuing as one longgggg series. Looking forward to continuing the story for these characters, and I hope you’ve all enjoyed reading it! 

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[ohprettyweeper-moved]

The Last Bandito

Part Thirteen: Part of Me, Apart from Me

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Chapter Summary: Ildri and Quinn make a rescue in Old Dema. Faylinn faces a hard truth. Tyler remembers, and Josh learns who the yellow-eyed woman is.    Warnings: Some violence.  Word Count: 1725 A/N: This series was borne of this picture. The bolded phrases are prompts I have compiled to use in this fic. Also, I’ve forgotten to mention before that for the phrases in Ukrainian, I’ve been using Google Translate; forgive me if they’re not accurate!

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[ohprettyweeper-moved]

The Last Bandito

Part Twelve: Someone at the Door

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Faylinn makes a dangerous decision; Ildri and Quinn approach Old Dema; and Tyler and Josh prepare for what comes after them. Warnings: None? Word Count: 1335 A/N: This series was borne of this picture. The bolded phrases are prompts I have compiled to use in this fic. Also, I’ve forgotten to mention before that for the phrases in Ukrainian, I’ve been using Google Translate; forgive me if they’re not accurate!

Since this is sort of filler, I decided to go ahead and make it a surprise post … enjoy!

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