He'd met the boy by chance. Just because this kid was smart, and observant– so much more than all the staff members; this boy —Gregory— he'd noticed there was something different about him, that he wasn't like the other endos, and it'd taken a bit, but it'd clicked in the boy's mind after seeing purple ears painted on an endo on a wall.
"You're Bonnie," the boy'd whispered, and he'd never felt such relief before. He lacked the features and voice box to show it, but he was so happy to be recognized, especially with the way he looked now.
After that, time was a blur, the boy'd slowly began putting him back together. Finding his parts scattered around, his head first, then his torso, the casing for his hands and arms; it was only his legs missing now, the main obstacle to overcome, that and a glitchy voice box that made it hard to speak to Gregory. He could sort of move without the casing for his legs, but his steps were slow, metallic joints shaking, threatening to give in with each step as he leaned onto the nearest wall for support. Gregory was faster, walking ahead and rounding a corner, talking to someone.
"Don't worry, I've got your back!" the voice came like a kick to the gut. No matter how long he'd spent away, there wasn't a single doubt in Bonnie's mind who it belonged to.
I was struck with the inspiration to write this after seeing @mischievousgraxaim's ART
The jungle would have been peaceful if it wasn't for a certain mancub's yelling and laughter as he struggled to emerge from under the panther's heavy head. They'd been playing wrestling and, as usual, Bagheera hadn't had to make much of an effort to pin the scrawny child under her heavy paw, making a show of yawning as wide as she could before lying her head on top of him, eyes gleaming with mirth as Mowgli kicked his legs in the air while his arms pushed at her neck to try and get her to move off.
"Keep doing that and I might just fall asleep for real."
Mowgli being very vocal with his frustration didn't deter her from shifting her body into a more comfortable position. As she did so, the mancub's hands began to wrap around her neck, opting to try and pull instead of pushing to see if he had a better chance that way. But his right hand stopped before it could fully wrap around her neck, resting over a bald spot under her chin, right over her throat.
The hairless, horizontal gash was small, barely the length of his middle finger, but the panther's fur was so thick that a sudden bald area stood out like a thorn in one's paw. Mowgli couldn't understand how he'd never spotted it before.
The mancub yelped as Bagheera tensed and abruptly lifted her head, lifting him along with her due to the arm he'd previously wrapped over her shoulders. She shook until he landed back on his butt. Bagheera muttered something about how they'd been away from too long and it was time for him to return to his pack, but Mowgli wasn't paying attention.
"What's that mark, Bagheera?" Green eyes focused on the mancub and quickly turned away, making Mowgli told his head in confusion at his usually very open friend's hesitation. "Is it a birth mark? There's nothing to be embarrassed about. My mother says I have one on my back that looks like a leaf, but I can never see it."
"It's not," Bagheera interrupted his rambling curtly, then sighed, turning her body back towards the boy. "Or maybe it is. It depends on how you see it."
Mowgli's confusion was visible. Bagheera could see the question in his eyes: how could something be a birthmark and not a birthmark?
An explanation was due.
Bagheera lied back down and, instantly, the mancub sat against her front leg, leaning his head on her shoulder.
"You remember what I told you about our man-talks?"
Mowgli nodded. "Yes, we keep it between us." his brow furrowed as he tried to guess what that and the bald spot would have in common. "Because the pack gets mad."
"Yes." Bagheera nudged her nose against the top of Mowgli's head as she thought on how to start. "This will be that kind of story. Like you, I was born among men, as was my mother, and her mother. But we weren't as lucky as you to find a pack that loved and raised us. Instead, we found greedy man who saw us not as living beings, but as playthings, and as they do with animals that they believe themselves to own, they put collars on us."
"What's a collar?"
"It's a hard thing that goes wrapped tight around the neck and can be tied anywhere to keep you from going far. It's very uncomfortable," Bagheera explained. "And sometimes harmful. This on my neck is the mark of the collar, I've had it since I can remember."
She lifted her chin, exposing her throat in a way that no one but Mowgli had ever or would ever witness her do so willingly. The mancub shifted closer, his hand slowly reaching up and fingers disappearing past the fur that surrounded the hairless gash. The skin he touched wasn't smooth, but uneven and rough as he dragged two fingers over it. His eyes widened as he combed his fingers down Bagheera's neck fur.
"That's not a birthmark," Mowgli concluded, his tone somber. "Will it go away? When I stepped on the sharp rock that one time we went to the river, it left a mark. But it went away." he jumped to his feet and balanced himself on one foot, showing the sole of the other where all that was left of the scar was a thin, lighter colored line. "See?"
Bagheera huffed in amusement as he wobbled and stumbled once his balance failed him. She shook her head. "It's the forever kind of mark."
"Oh..."
"No one in the jungle knows I carry this mark," Bagheera told him, meeting Mowgli's eyes. "No one but you."
Mowgli's eyes went wide, then they burned with determination. "I won't tell anyone." he stated, climbing on Bagheera's back and dragging himself closer to her shoulders, pressing his forehead against the top of her muzzle and looking straight into her emerald eyes. "Not even Baloo or Grey. This is our secret."
Bagheera's expression softened, showing the fondness she felt for the mancub. "Thank you, little brother."
Zoe couldn't trust anyone. Blue Umbrella wasn't to be trusted, neither was the government, and even less so the BSAA. People weren't much different, she could count those she trusted with the fingers on one hand: her uncle Joe, Chris Redfield, and Ethan Winters; the last one she didn't even know the location of, and Chris... well, he still had hopes in organizations being the clue to saving the world.
She wasn't going to let them get involved in what she was about to do.
Getting into her family land was somehow both easy and complicated: easy because her uncle Joe's directions helps her find a way in through the perimeter set by the government, and complicated because or was the swamp. Her family had been smart, they'd hidden Eveline away where they knew nobody would find them, but Zoe knew where she was: the abandoned church. Her daddy'd told her when their consciences were both trapped in that other place; his infected body left her in the basement where nobody would find her because of all the monsters that had plagued the graveyard. But now her daddy was gone for good, and so were the monsters. It was only Zoe and Eveline.
Zoe was going to put an end to this, once and for all.
Getting to the basement was easy when you knew the path, and nowadays Zoe was the only one who did. The place was covered in that sickly black mold, but unlike what it'd been like back in the house, it was dry, falling apart upon being touched. The outer layer of the cocoon was no different, Zoe was able to rip it off with her bare hands. The inside, however, was gooey and flexible. She had to use the hunting knife she'd brought to cut through it, cutting through until she spotted the hair of brunette hair, placed her hand on it and tilted it back to see the face of the one who'd caused her so much pain.
And it was just a child. It was easy to forget the fact that Evie was just a child, one who Zoe now knew had been created in a laboratory, kept away from any and all things children should be give, treated like she was just an experiment for whoever actually pulled the strings to play with, showing no regard for her as a living bring, much less as a human being.
The knife clattered to the ground and Zoe cursed herself through gritted teeth as her arms dug deep into that black mold until they wrapped around Eveline's body, pulling her out of the cocoon.
Someone had to pay for what happened to her family. But it wasn't Evie.
It'd been years since he'd been this close to a city and James would be lying if he said he was comfortable. But Clementine had asked for his help especially, even after everything that went down between them, after how he scared them and —in a lesser level— they scared him. Yet here they were, giving each other a second chance, and it was going pretty well up until they arrived to the city.
Nothing had happened, but that didn't stop James from being on edge as he stood outside the gates, at least four people standing over the gates and whispering to each other told him they weren't keeping watch, but talking about him. James kept his eyes down, grip tightening on the leader of his mask as his fingers rubbed against the seams in an attempt to comfort himself. He reminded himself that he could leave, Clementine told him so herself when it became clear the amount of time she and AJ would spend in there was undefined.
And he did– kind of. James didn't leave the main street right in front of the gates, but he did move farther away from them, finding a comfortable spot to sit on an old car that was more rust and plants than vehicle.
James took a deep breath, keeping himself busy making another hole on the old guardian leather that was his mask to pass the rope that tied it shut because some had grown too wide and made it impossible to tighten it properly. He was at it until the breeze changed and blew his way, making the familiar smell of rot and fresh blood reach him. His brows furrowed as he looked first towards the gates, finding nothing; then the other way.
He froze at the sight of the all too familiar giant standing there, a deer over his shoulder.
"You’re looking at me like I did something wrong." Shere Khan at Bagheera!
Prompt List: Enemies to Lovers Edition
Bagheera's emerald green gaze travelled to the door that'd just closed, then back to Shere Khan. She tilted her head slightly at his words. "Now, I'm surprised by how well you can read me in such little time. That's impressive."
She stood from her seat on one of his office's couches. Due to their association, it'd become more and more of an occurrence for her to linger around him whenever they could spare each other the time; slowly, the meetings were turning ever so slightly less professional while also keeping a symbolic arm's distance with each other for the sake of what little professionalism they continued to keep.
"I understand that you're not particularly fond of Baloo," she started, never one to beat around the bush. "But I would appreciate it if you could at least pretend to tolerate him when we're both around– you know, the way you pretend to tolerate having reporters so determined to find out about your private life they might as well ask you how many stripes you have. Because he's my friend."
She reached out, fixing the collar of Khan's suit jacket before her eyes met his once more.
"But don't worry," Bagheera hummed, smiling as her hand smoothed over his tie. "I think of you as a friend too and, as you can see, I stand up for my friends."
"This better not become a weekly occurrence." that's what Alice had told Megan the very first time she'd gotten a "pick me up" text from Megan and had to drive across town at three in the morning to get her friend out of the kind of situation people warn you to stay out to. That happened six months ago, and by now, Alice was certain she knew every dealer's house, every speakeasy bar with some extra options in their menus, every club that she suspected was little more than a money laundering operation for a gang, or the mafia, or whatever– it wasn't like she could ask.
This one, however, was new. Titan. It was an interesting name for this kind of establishment. The size, location, and amount of people waiting in line also made it look way more legit than most places Alice ended up unwillingly visiting past midnight because of Megan, but there was something about this place that was just off.
Alice didn't wait in line, from the experience she had having to go pick up Megan, she knew to tone out the colorful insults that came from the people in line. She wasn't here to party, the way she'd dressed with zero intention of showing off —which, ironically, made her stand out around people who'd taken their time getting dolled up— was enough to leave that clear as she approached the bouncer at the door.
Megan'd mentioned this place before. Her new boyfriend worked there, and he got them to put her name on the list just so he wouldn't have to go all the way to the entrance to have them let Megan in, and she wouldn't have to wait in line.
"Megan Lafferty," Alice lied as soon as the man gave her the 'you better not waste my time' look. "I'm on the list."
Connie knew it wasn't a genuine question because to be honest, the sign for 'baby' was pretty self explanatory. Still, she repeated it, crossing her arms loosely with both palms facing up as if she was cradling an invisible infant, then rocking her arms from side to side slowly.
"I just think we should talk about that sort of thing," she signed next with a small shrug.
Their relationship had developed organically. There'd been very few and far between times when she hadn't enjoyed Daryl's company, most of them back at the beginning when she didn't know him so well yet and there were just too many stressful things for them to worry about. Now things were calmer and as scary as it was, she felt like it was time to see just how serious this relationship might get.
"I want a baby, eventually," she decided to add in hopes of getting some color to return to his face. "and I want to know what your thoughts are on that subject."
There was something endearing about watching the emotions go through Daryl as he tried to gather his thoughts and communicate them. But Connie had to admit she was also nervous, she believed they were both mature enough to not let a talk about what they would like for the future ruin their relationship, but there was always some nerves about it, which she fought to oppress.
But Daryl was observant, and so he noticed. His expression softened when he realized she was as nervous about asking as he was about answering. "I'm not sure," he decided to just be honest. "I gotta think about it."
Connie's shoulders sagged in relief and she smiled, nodding her head as she reached out and gave his hand a squeeze before letting go to sign.
