overhaul.

A GANGSTER WITHOUT A HEART.

[oldorder]

‘ still terrorizing little children, overhaul? shits weird. ’

         in the dhammapada, he read: a man is not called wise because he talks and talks again; but if he is peaceful, loving and fearless then he is in truth called wise. both men in the living room shared that last attribute, and only one of them obviously practiced the former. dabi had to be fearless, for him to be talking that way to the head of the yakuza. it’s disturbing. he did not meet the qualifications to be considered a wise man, and as his better, overhaul will have to show him that in time. a minion of his took a step towards the scarred man to check him on his blatant disrespect. 

         a quick, smoothing “ no, no. assuage your anger and remain put, ” from overhaul made the goon check himself and release the butt of the gun snuggled in the small of his back. a call for ultraviolence is an action he wishes to avoid.

         it’s quite clear to overhaul that this unruly lot shared this pitiable predilection for rousing. it’s a game he’s certain that worked for them. nothing about them is clean. where they lay their heads, filthy. their business sensibilities, nauseating. in the old days, pops shown sharp silence from his great years of practicing patience with these types. it’s imperative for overhaul to follow suit, despite his trouble being tailored for it.

         he had to ask himself, why lower myself to meet the standards of this boorish baboon? the man has done everything but settle in a seat across from him for a proper discussion. dabi had helped himself to a god awful cigarette, a fruit from out of the glass bowl on the coffee table, and three pisses on his valued time ( that vile unfounded accusation ). “ when will you be ready to get down to the reason why you’re here? ” he’s becoming not as patient as his voice, and current demeanor portrays him as. “ or would you like to reschedule this meeting for a later date, lest you squander your opportunities today? ”

@insinerations

[epanalipsi-deactivated20230528]

↻ // ACCEPTING @oldorder​​

❝ I-I’m sorry, I promise it won’t happen again! ❞

[oldorder]

         “ eri, ” his deep, monotone voice gingerly douses her name in kerosene as he subtly seethes. his hawk-like glower ready to see to it that talons grab her small frame out of the fire he would have throw her in. if only she knew how to listen.

         insubordinate urchin. sadly, she’s an accursed one. disadvantaged harshly by the ills of a child’s memory retention. over and over again, he had to find alternative means to cement his lessons in her. most of those intricate means hurt him more than they did her. mostly because it was he that needed to see to her reformation. all she had to do is stand still and let him work.

         as her guardian, he has a designated role to fulfill to her. his expression softly knots into that of a peeved parental figure. unmoved by the tears they’ve been forced to observe for far too many times. he turns his back on the waterworks that builds up at the corner her eyes to tend to a pressing matter. his blood-stained glove. 

         he walks towards the stainless steel garbage bin, tsking sharply behind the beaked mask. overhaul steps on the ergonomic pedal with minimum force, and dumps the ruined latexes. he goes on to take care of his bare hands underneath the kitchen sink, and looks over to where a headless henchmen sat next to a shuddering eri. the dinner table was in terrible need of cleaning. a task he’ll have to assign the next caretaker with. overhaul stares on with patent apathy, wondering when she was going to stop causing this.

         “ come now, you need to stop hurting yourself with these infantile excuses. ” she’s a hero syndrome enabler. against his ordinances, a need to care curdles in the heart of the tools under his employ. she’s distastefully special like that. that is why, when it is discovered that one meager shot of inspiration is taken, and one is bold enough to try to suit themselves as eri’s savior, they’re wasted. the headless man was once called goro, last name lost in the wind. foolish man thought it wise to try to talk up some of his other men with big ideas to pull the rug from underneath overhaul and save the girl. the girl should’ve tried to reason with him, talked him down. warn him of the undesirable results that pushes the young boss to impress upon his collective. 

       “ you are very well aware that it becomes offensively difficult to assign someone to take care of your wellbeing each time my cardinal rules aren’t followed. have you not come to understand this yet, eri? ” overhaul stops the faucet and pulls out another set of latex protection for his hands. a simple fix. that can’t be said his invaluable investment. the man walks over to eri, ignoring the body that’s taken by gravity as it leans and falls out of the chair with a violent thud. the back of his two fingers touch the side of her face that was unexposed to goro’s grody gore. “ when i tell my men about this minor infraction, what will that say about you? ” 

@epanalipsi​

[oldorder]

𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚎𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 /  introspection 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚔 / overhaul 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 / threads 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 / musings 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚍 / music

[iwillneversleepagain]

[oldorder]

He saw no one as being superior to him. In his own mind, in his own eyes, he was some sort of medical god.

Dr. David Holmes on Harold Shipman’s letters

[blindedphantom]