#5thcomplex

[ruhkie-a]

@5thcomplex​

out here in the vastness of space, every movement matters; every twist, every turn, every stride   —   it all matters now. every second wasted is another second where they move among you, waiting for the moment to strike  &  leave your body scattered across the ivory floor. when the alarm rang throughout the ship, his heart sank; the second killing so far. a body found in med-bay, a lime green spacesuit covered in dripping carmine ichor, a single gunshot wound to the skull, no suspects   —   fuck. an imposter is among us: who will survive the massacre? in his pocket, tasks have hastily been scribbled across, readable to his eyes only as he continues through the spaceship. the ship is turning into a slaughterhouse, blood spilling across the floor  &  painting everyone on board.  what if you’re next?  it’s a feeling lingering inside your gut, threatening to claw its way out like a monster. it’s eating him from the inside out, the trepidation radiating off of him like sun beams. 

with every step, a twist of his head in every corner; the lights are dimmed, he hasn’t seen anyone in minutes.   [he’s beginning to lose track of time. seconds turn into minutes, minutes into hours   —   it’s becoming an unending eternity of misery.]   electrical is written in yellow on the right-side of the wall, a deep breath being taken from inside his cobalt-colored spacesuit. rpd is boldly written across the back, the only reminder of his life back on earth   —   a rookie assigned with a mission. definitely not the mission he was anticipating. with another five steps, a white spacesuit comes into his view up ahead near electrical; there’s a palpable excitement when he sees the person, but then he remembers: there’s a killer on the loose. they might be it.   

as he gets closer, he notices the strands of flaxen - colored hair peeking underneath the helmet.   ❝   liz?   ❞   she’s the only blonde on board that leon remembers boarding. he steps closer, cautiously, brows knitting together under his helmet. at the doorway, he swallows the urge to run back to the cafeteria  &  emergency meeting.  [for no reason whatsoever. doing so would only hurt him in the long run anyways; it’d make him seem suspicious.]    ❝   you sticking around? i gotta’ fix the wiring in here.   ❞

[antmounds]

@5thcomplex​​

It was an odd sight all in itself. The two of them, face-to-face, staring at each other as if the world depended on it. In a way, it did. This little county here, they were all it had left to protect itself   —   those who could save it from the eschaton the Seeds were threatening to put upon them. The doomsday lingering in the future. If they didn’t act fast, it was only a matter of time before it would happen. Arvin knew this. He wondered if the Deputy did too.

Arvin keeps his gaze steadied on the Deputy, the one who rained hell from above. Had she not arrived here with the other Marshal, he ponders if the county would be in their current predicament. Things had been bad for awhile   —   he can’t remember when the Seeds weren’t taking property from the locals or toting their guns around, threatening anyone who halted themselves in the middle of Joseph’s path. Thinking about the cult always makes his blood boil, as if his body is running a fever so damn high, it’ll create an inferno of lava seeping out from his pores. 

Whenever he gets like that, he always sees Lenora’s face and then it moves back to Joseph. The sick fuck. 

He clears his throat, arms moving to cross themselves over his chest. Leaning against the tree behind him, he notes it’s only them in this conversation. No Peggies linger in the distance, no other companions   —   just them. Down below, a Project at Eden’s Gate outpost resides. They’ve become more scattered over the county in the past few days. Ever since that damned helicopter crash. 

“We got two options here   —   we kill ‘em all or keep lettin’ ‘em kill us.”   It’s only a fact; the Peggies are set on a path with an end goal in sight. They have their goal, it’s only a matter of time before they achieve it and they’re going to do whatever it takes to reach it.   “We got the town folks to finish ‘em off, Dep. Ya’ just gotta’ make the call. Ya’ know we’ll have yer back.”   We’re sick of this shit too, is what he means to say. 

[ruhkie-a]

@5thcomplex​     ⁄     that would’ve been one helluva first date.

it’s not the comment catching him off guard  —  leon’s gotten used to the eccentric sentences she speaks periodically; it’s the way she says this comment, though. the casual lull of her dulcet voice flowing through his ears; that’s what catches him off guard. it’s enough to make him take a quick glance in her direction, noting the way she gazes out the passenger side window of their shared vehicle. if he wasn’t driving, he’d take this moment to focus on her profile  —  he’d probably fall head first into a myriad of black holes, never finding his way out of the continuous crumbling abyss. (he had a knack for that; always falling head first into situations, never looking at the pros  &  cons of any predicament. it comes with the hero mentality.) his brows wrinkle instead, azure hues positioning themselves back on the stygian road, attempting to ignore her recently spoken words. instead, he keeps his foot placed on the gas pedal, continuing the drive from the mountains back to fall’s end. he was going to need a drink when they got back. 

the rest of the drive went as normal, their conversations about the next plan of action against eden’s gate; the occasional joke about john seed being an idiot, waiting as he would most likely crash his plane one day.  &  yet, leon still couldn’t get her words out of his head. why was he even dwelling on it? it was odd, it didn’t sit well with him  —  it made his heart thump rapidly  &  made him feel like a little kid, watching as his parents stored his presents under the christmas tree. as if he was waiting for the moment to come when he could rip the wrapping off  &  be full of joy. like he was waiting for the moment he could strike  &  make those words somewhat true. it was stupid, it made his eyes roll every time he thought of it  &  the periodic heavy sigh brew from inside his chest. (if liz was taking glances at him, he’s sure he looks more vexed than he is; it’s probably why their conversations were so short tonight.) 

when he pulls into the parking lot of the spread eagle, he wastes no time getting out of the car,  &  stretching his legs  &  arms.   ❝   i hate being in there for so long.   ❞   it’s exhaled as he peers over the roof of the car at his companion, his features scrunching once more. even the glance he takes at her proves his point, the one he’s been thinking about during the whole ride. he’s willing to fall into that abyss of blackness, unable to find his way out if he meant he could spend just two seconds with her. he should be horrified. he should be talking with sheriff whitehouse about this  &  how he needs to go back to being on his own, living with sharky  &  not putting himself in a position of risk. he doesn’t, though. instead, he makes his way around the car  &  stands adjacently across from her.   ❝   just saying, if we were going on a date, it wouldn’t have been that.   ❞   he motions towards the whitetail mountains they’d just retreated from; blood had been shed, bodies would have to be buried. it would’ve been a hell of a first date, but it’s not ideal. not ideal at all.

his stance hardens, almost becoming stern in an unorthodox manner.   ❝   it’d be a real date  ...  like at rae-rae’s pumpkin patch. without sharky. something like that.   ❞   a pause before he gestures towards the bar, not wanting to dwell on the topic any longer.   ❝   i’ll buy the first round.   ❞