I wanted to be just like him...

[Indie RP blog for Anne Cunningham from Silent Hill: Downpour. Tracking: seekingmockingbirds]

[thevirtualtypewriter]

"For the Widows in Paradise, for the Fatherless in Ypsilanti" - Sufjan Stevens

[word-stuck]

“Saudade, often described as ‘the love that remains’ after someone is gone." (submitted by jamesvergara, littlemaniacs, margaridalegria)

[palletdriver-deactivated2014050]

"I never lied!"

"Well you sure as hell didn’t tell me who you work for."

[seekingmockingbirds-blog]

"This is because I’m my own fucking boss - and what I get do with it isn’t your problem, buddy. Did you get what I asked of you? Those fake ids?"

[bumblepuppy]

Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?

[embersandaerosol]

[[Still getting earthquakes here, so probably not going to be online.]] 

[seekingmockingbirds-blog]

[[wait.... earthquakes? D= It's everything all right there? D=]]

[morfilithia-deactivated20140923]

This town… It KNOWS me…

[palletdriver-deactivated2014050]

I’M GOING TO BE SO BAD AT TWAU

I JSUT

HAVE A HARD TIME BEING BAD

[seekingmockingbirds-blog]

Don't worry!

I WAS THE SOFTEST BIGBY EVER

BECAUSE I CAN'T BRING MYSELF TO BE MEAN?

(but he also wasn't so big nor so bad in the HQ, so I think we're fine?)

[seekingmockingbirds-blog]

It Can't Rain Everyday | Pendleton & Cunningham

[afraidofstorms]

There was a breath of humor, however brief, in which Murphy caught himself how promptly he would react to her calling his name. Not a conscious action – it was instinct, pretty much just like a well-trained dog.

And like a well-trained dog, he stood still, listening to her even if he couldn’t really make out half of the words she said, confusion showing in his frown. 

Promise.

For a moment, he thought of the few promises he made through his life, wondering if he had managed to keep at least one of them. Judging from where he stood now, both guilty and innocent blood in his hands, it seemed unlikely. But still she demanded an answer, just as intense as she had been when she was still set on killing him, and he found himself scoffing lightly.

"Alright, I––" He paused, looked around, weight shifting from one leg to the other when there was nothing else left to do. He had never been a people person anyway, but it was particularly complicated when you have to deal with someone who doesn’t know a thing about you, and yet knows everything. “Okay. Promise.”

Not that he was sure what it meant – not throwing his life away was a little vague. Was that what he had done with the life he had before? Seemed so. But when? At what point did he mess it up so badly there was no return? 

"So, uh… Which way?"

Maybe he could keep that one. For Frank.

[seekingmockingbirds-blog]

"Good." Was her simple answer, a smile finding its way among all that melancholy. It was as automatic as to breathe, everytime she thought about her father, she would catch herself smiling. Sometimes, her smile was painful, rusty, but was still a smile. To think about everyone that special man touched with his warms hands, the way even Pendleton couldn't turn away a promise made in his name... sometimes she just wish she had died in his place, the world would be a better place.

Flattening her coat and taking a long breath, she stood over a large rock near the lake, looking at the sun and the clear sky just for a second before pointing to a path between some fallen trees, away from the damned bus.

"You go that way, away from the patrol looking for me. You go to the next town and you go to the third motel you find in the yellow pages, okay? I'll meet you there after they rescue me, ha, what a joke!" She laughed through her nose, shaking her head. "And here, take my cellphone with you, I'll text you later so you know it's me. Now go! And find fucking civil clothes to wear, this jumpsuit is lovely but the color doesn't go well with you."

She was and horrible person and she knew it the same way she knew she couldn't let him disappear.

[seekingmockingbirds-blog]

      I once was better.                           I put off all my grief.                                                                         So I go to hell, I wait for it,                                          But someone's left me creased.

[seekingmockingbirds-blog]

It Can't Rain Everyday | Pendleton & Cunningham

[afraidofstorms]

He had no idea how long they had been trapped in that hellhole, but it wasn’t that long ago that Officer Cunningham had him on his knees, ready to be executed – or that one time when she did pull the trigger. He wouldn’t forget that; he wasn’t entitled to.

The same way he would never forget forgiveness and gratitude, even if he didn’t deserve those. Or how she wouldn’t think twice before embracing him, once she learned the truth.

(Not that it made him any less guilty.)

"Hey, it’s alright," he murmured, voice low and wavering, a moment of hesitation before his hand found her back, tapping it lightly. "It’s alright." The lame attempt of lulling her, keeping her in his arms longer than he was supposed to, was half due to the fact that she probably could use it, but half due to his own weakness. But he managed to let her go, at some point – he had to let go.

One step back, then another; just enough to see her face, even if avoiding her eyes.

"I, uh–– I better get going. Bird’s gonna be here any minute now," he reminded her, pointing towards her radio with a brief nod. "You better not be seen with a dead convict."

Another step back, legs still faltering. Sometimes walking away was a bitch.

[seekingmockingbirds-blog]

One of the strangest feelings in the world was to be comforted by the arms of the man you tried to kill. What was happening to her, anyway? She wasn't that meek and trembling shrimp crying of relief on someone else's shoulders, no, she couldn't be. She was Anne Colleridge (dammit her ex-husband surname, she was changing it back to the name of the best man to even walking under the sun!), and didn't matter how many times she fell, she was always going to stand on her feet again, she was never giving up.

She was the woman who pulled the fucking trigger.

But, at the same time, she was a lost little girl who could never properly mourning her father and didn't know where to go from there. What she did have left? Nothing. No husband, no father, no family, no friends and she wasn't sure if she could ever put her foot on a prison again without being assaulted by visions of those monsters. What she did have left on that life? Vengeance? Justice? Truth? Just a hollow where should have been her soul.

She was the woman who pulled the fucking trigger. What was she so afraid of right now?

"Pendleton!" She called again, raising her arm to his chest, stopping him once again, just like the first time they met. "You're taking wrong path, you know it? Come, I'll show you the way out of this shit hole." She give him a smirk, a strange light on her green eyes. Then, she gripped his jumpsuit, as if this way she could retain something from him, anything "Don't throw away the life my father gave for you. Promise you won't, you owe me this much."

No, he didn't  - she owed him everything, a new life even, everything. But they both owned something to Frank's Coleridge's memory: to live, doesn't matter how easier it would be to just die. 

"Promise or you'll wish your ass was back in this hell before I end with you!"

[objecticns]

[[ Forgot to upload this last night. Whoops. ]]

[palletdriver-deactivated2014050]

"That’s nice." No, he’s not paying attention. He’s too busy filling up magazines with bullets.

[seekingmockingbirds-blog]

"Thank you, champ, but I wasn't asking you about the fucking weather, no." She's tapping her foot on the floor, impatience showing in the way she's crossing her arms. "I asked if you have seen this guy, tall, dark and brooding, with a scar across his right cheek. I think he came this way, I... I've found his journal."

[palletdriver-deactivated2014050]

there’s a fucking pendleton and cunningham following me

that game tho.

[seekingmockingbirds-blog]

Hello? ;)

But yeah! Both game are about fathers who lost their children and girls seeking for their daddies? idk They make me very emotional, I tell you.

(also, DILFs everywhere)

[seekingmockingbirds-blog]

It Can't Rain Everyday | Pendleton & Cunningham

[afraidofstorms]

It was like learning to walk again. One feet and then the other, slow, unsteady steps taking him away from that place – and away from her. He had no idea what would be of him, now a fugitive on the loose, but there was some comfort in knowing there was a rescue team on their way. She would be safe, maybe for the first time in years. 

She definitely could use some peace, he assumed. And if going through hell and back would grant her a chance, then at least he’d knew it had been worth something.

His own name on her voice, a shout coming from somewhere behind his shoulders, gave him the worst sense of déjà-vu ever. Especially because it wasn’t a threat anymore; if anything, that single Pendleton reached him wrapped in despair, and he found himself running back without even thinking.

He threw himself on his knees, reaching for her, grabbing her wrist with what was probably excessive force, but he couldn’t bear letting her fall again. 

"Hold on! got you!" He exclaimed, every fiber of his body invested in puling her up even though he knew it wasn’t gonna happen. She was going to fall, he was going to fail. Again and again and again.

That was how that place worked, wasn’t it?

[seekingmockingbirds-blog]

There was blood and mud under her nails, the pain was consuming her whole body, she was so tired she just wanted to close her eyes and sleep, everything forgotten in that sweet moment of unconsciousness. But she couldn't because that damned shit place wouldn't let her lay down her weary head and just stop and rest, no.

Still, Anne wasn't alone. Suddenly, he was here for her, his strong hand gripping her tight, trying to pull her up, supporting her weight. She opened her eyes (she didn't even notice she had closed them), and looked at him and what she saw written all over his face took her breath away.

Murphy Pendleton, convict, the man she was hunting, the man she forgave, had worry dripping from his eyes, and a firm determination showing on his forehead, anguish, concern, dispair and everything for her. Everything for her. After all that she did to turn his world into a living hell, Murphy Pendleton still cared. Damnit that stupid man! Damnit! How could she fall when it would pull him with her again? No. She wouldn't fall, she couldn't fall, she wasn't pulling him on that hell with her again.

"Pendleton!" She chanted, a litany and a pray, holding his stretched arm with every drop of strenght she had left. Slowly, inch by inch, he helped her back to solid ground. It was hurting like hell, she couldn't feel her fingers anymore, every muscle in her body was aching, still, he didn't leave her fall.

And when he finally pulled her up, that suddenly tiny scared shitless woman trembling on her knees and his arms, silence was the only thing greeting both of them. No rain, nor screams, neither that muffled sound of a broken radio, nothing. Just silence and the sound of the lake beside them. 

"I hate this place so fucking much! I wish hell would open and swallow this damn shit excuse of a town! Fuck everything! Fuck! Thank you, your stupid bastard!" It wasn't rain in his shoulders, it was tears. "Thank you so fucking much!"

[paradoxpancakes-deactivated2018]

"This town, it KNOWS ME. It….showed me things…."

[aerostigma-deactivated20150405]

    “Stay away…                        Please…                                  I don’t want to hurt you as well”

    There’s blood in her face, and it isn’t hers. The D.U.P solders were fallen to the ground, slaughtered by their own bullets that were returned mid air by the heavy wave of light blue wind. However, killing had never been her intention… or at least that’s what she thought as her light-green eyes gazed upon the fallen men, occasionally switching between the gruesome scene and the person beside her.

[seekingmockingbirds-blog]

                   There was blood dyeing the woman's face, dripping from her cheeks, and Anne was sure not even a single drop was of her own blood. Of course the lifeless bodies in the ground helped her guess, but it wasn't just that, no. It was in her eyes and in her voice, the way she seemed to be somewhat scared of herself, somewhat holding herself.

                   Bullshit.

                  "Hey, hey, lady! Calm down!" She was glad her gun was safely tucked on her back, this way she wouldn't frighten that woman any more. "If you don't want to hurt me, you won't, simple enough. I don't believe in all that self-help books crap, but this I know: if you don't want something, you can hold it back, you can stop it. Besides, don't you think is enough for redecorate the place? Blood red isn't a nice color on the ground."

[seekingmockingbirds-blog]

"... now you're coming in pair? Whatever, just grab a beer and an umbrella and welcome to the party! Cheers!"