#(p: reply)

[aliasmultimuse]

@propheresy said:

“There’s something wrong with me.”

Jason knows that feeling of wrongness, has been intimately acquainted with it for years now. Shame and guilt are things he and Miriam have in common. When she is guilty for the lives she took, however, Jason is guilty for not feeling guilty about the ones (way more than Miriam's) he did.

But what is he supposed to tell her, that she's right? That he's noticed the thrill of the kill in her eyes, a perfect mirror of his own? That, while Jason can understand that feeling, so many people won't and that will set her apart from them one day, slowly but surely alienate everyone in her life? Should he tell her there's no coming back from where they are, that once she gets used to life in a warzone, she won't feel home anywhere else? He can't. He can't tell her the truth because it would break her. God knows she's already cracked.

❝There's nothing wrong with you,❞ he lies, swinging his bright red Vector across his back so he can put a comforting hand on the Deputy's shoulder. ❝It's them. This shit-❞ he pulls up the right sleeve of his jacket, showing the letters crudely inked along the underside of his forearm, PRIDE. Miriam has a matching one, different position and different sin but it comes from the same deranged artist. ❝They're trying to get in your head. But it's not you. You're just doing what you have to.❞

[aliasmultimuse]

@cultesdesghoules said:

"I would personally like to show you… my ass."

It's with a pained grimace that Jason turns his dirty, blood encrusted face up to look at Vaas. He blinks bloodshot eyes, his furious expression morphing into a baffled one. ❝What the fuck?❞ he croaks, with a mouth that feels (and perhaps is) full of sand. It's not the first time Vaas says some frankly baffling shit; the man is insane, unpredictable and too talkative for the good of everyone involved with him. Yet, of all the weird, puzzling, creepy things that ever came out of his mouth, that must be the worst. Jason is so flabbergasted that, for a moment, he not only ceases his struggles to free his wrists, but even forgets about the rope tightly binding them.

He renews his efforts, however, when he realizes Vaas might not be joking. ❝Don't- don't show me your ass,❞ he all but begs, shaking his head. He's never begged in the face of any of Vaas' threats, never said don't shoot me, don't burn me alive or don't throw me in that cenote but the perspective of seeing his enemy's ass, while physically harmless, is just too weird.