I want everyone to know that at the end of Bendy: The Lost Ones, the sole surviving protagonist gets in Joey's van and only realizes she made a mistake when Thomas Connor's twink starts freaking out
-He loves dogs, would happily adopt a few little buggers to look after if he had the time of the energy, he used to spend a lot of time as a child looking after stray dogs and would go to dog shelters a lot to see the fluffy little buggers.
-Never met his parents. He was raised by his aunt and his uncle until he was old enough to look after himself, though he does think about who his parents were a lot more than he'd like to admit.
-Wears a constant bandage on his left hand and arm, he doesn't really need it on but he likes the feeling of it on his arm.
-Adoptive father of the studio, seems to (unintentionally) adopt just about anybody under the age of 19 (including Wally)
-Has no idea how he managed to get Allison of all people to date him, he feels like he isn't good enough for her and is constantly worried that he'll do something that'll lead in her leaving him
-Wants to have children. Hasn't brought the idea up to Allison yet however due to him being scared that he won't be a good father and will end up hurting any children that he does eventually have/look after.
-He has depression and anxiety, though anybody that asks about it gets the same snappy response that he's "fine" and that there's "nothing wrong with him"
-He worked on planes during the second world war, was picked up by GENT a few years prior to this.
-Thomas has been working with Scott since he got hired by GENT, originally he thought Scott was loud and annoying and didn't enjoy his company, but he ended up warming up to him after about a month or two or three
-About 6'3 in height
-In his early 30s, about 32 or 33.
-Constant resting bitch face
Many people had described Thomas as cold and closed off, like a brick wall, hardly anybody could tell what he was actually feeling without asking him and even then, nobody was completely sure, he was the type of person who liked to keep to himself and preferred to stay away from many other people.
And then there was Scott. Open, energetic, emotional Scott. It was easy to tell what he was feeling; what he was thinking, even. He was open about his emotions; he could be blunt but that was one of the things Thomas liked about him. Scott didn't beat around the bush; Scott didn't ignore him and make him feel like he was worth nothing like so many others did. Scott didn't pretend he didn't exist just because he didn't want to be associated with Thomas. It was so rare to find those kinds of people nowadays and Thomas was glad that he had Scott.
He didn't know what he'd do without him.
Scott knew so much about Thomas, they had been friends for nearly a decade, Scott knew when Thomas was angry or sad and Thomas knew when Scott wanted out of a conversation or wasn't feeling as happy and as go lucky as he pretended to act, they went hand in hand with eachother almost perfectly. Many likened them as brothers on a regular basis.
Scott nearly kicked open the door to the GENT storefront, a huge cardboard box in his hand as he struggled to open the door, instead deciding to use his foor to half kick, half shove the door open. It swung open with a bang, making Scott flinch as he slowly waddled into the store, his arms aching under the weight of the box.
"THOMAS," He shouted out for his friend and boss, basically dropping the item onto a nearby wooden table with little to no care at all, "Your big heavy box thingy is here!"
Scott leaned against the wall next to the box, lighting up a cigarette while he waited for Thomas to emerge from the back of the shop, he knew he would probably get yelled at for smoking in the shop again, but they barely ever got customers anymore, not here in Atlantic City anyways. The GENT stores in other states and areas got plenty of customers, well, enough to keep a shaky wage to keep the workers alive. Atlantic City? Well, their only customers were people with broken cars and an animation studio in New York; Scott wasn't all that bothered about smoking in the store. Thomas was though, so he tried to limit it the best he could for his friend though with the work getting more stressful, it was getting harder.
It was a miracle that Thomas hadn't snapped yet.
Scott stood up straighter, starting to get worried, he coughed a little as he put out his cigarette, 'Where the hell is that man? He isn't usually late to a delivery.'
The 30 something year old man cracked his knuckles before heading over to the door behind a rough old wooden desk that they had been using as a counter or at least had been trying to use as a counter. Not that they actually got that many customers anymore. Scott pushed himself onto the table and pushed himself off, sliding across the table like a rushing teen desprate to get out of class, or an athlete, too lazy to walk through the flap at the end that had been designed there for the sole purpose of allowing the people who worked there and used it to get from behind the table to in front of it and vice versa.
He slid off the table, stumbling forwards as he tried to regain his balance, nearly headbutting the wall as he basically fell off the table. Scott gave the table a tiny glare, deciding to blame the wooden piece of furniture for him almost smacking his head against the wall instead of blaming himself, he got over the table's offense pretty quickly however turning his attention back to finding out where Thomas had run off to.
'Don't get distracted, Scott', He reminded himself as he lazily flipped the light switch on, waiting until the lights had finished flickering and fluttering on and off before he started walking. Flashing and flickering lights always gave him a headache. He blamed it on his age. Even though he was only in his early 30s, about 33, nearly 34, only a few years younger than Thomas. It didn't stop them from being close friends though.
Pushing open an unlocked door at the end of the corridor, Scott was suddenly plunged into near complete darkness, the only few things that lit up the dark room was the midday light streaming down the curtainless windows, only a small amount of light though, the windows in this building had been designed by someone who was most likely thrown into the job and were placed at an angle that meant only a slither of light, if even that could contaminate the small dust infected room that had been basically abandoned by the employees that were working there. Scott walked in and leaned against the doorway, shivering despite the fact that he wasn't cold, Scott's hands instinctively went to the light switch, flipping it on. He blinked a few times to let his eyes adjust to the sudden and overwhelming bright, fake, manmade light that overflowed the room.
Empty. The room was empty. Empty of people, anyways, there were several large cardboard boxes filling the corners of the room, what was in them was a complete mystery to Scott, although he assumed that Thomas would know what secrets lied in the boxes, if he only could find Thomas first.
Thomas.
Something in Scott, a feeling deep in his gut, was glad that the room was empty, was glad that Thomas wasn't here but another part of him was screaming that something terrible had happened to his friend even though he had seen him less than three hours ago.
But sometimes three hours was all it took, right?
Scott switched off the light, they didn't have money or electric to be wasting at all, before closing the door and turning around to go investigate the other rooms within the small buildings, his anxiety was slowly increasing so it was lucky that there was only one or two other rooms in the small store, hell, it was more of an abandoned building filled with crap then an actual store. Most people who worked with Scott (which were only four other people (not including Thomas as he had taken a new office at the studio, he was representing GENT there. Scott worried about how he was coping with it just being him to help out around an entire studio by himself, he could never actually find out however as Thomas rarely spoke about his feelings with anyone)) had likened it to that exact same thing.
"Thomas? C'mon, Connor, this ain't funny. Where are you?" Scott whispered the last part to himself, his anxiety starting to make him feel sick, it felt there was a sinking pit in his stomach, like his stomach had ripped out, his intestines felt like they had been tightened together, his lungs had gone tight, making it difficult for him to breathe. It hurt. He needed to find Thomas, he felt like something bad had happened, it wasn't like him to just run off without a trace of even existing. His stomach hurt but not from any pain that he was in, not from any physical pain anyways. Emotional pain, but yet it didn't completely feel like that either.
Scott rubbed his hands together, only just noticing how sweaty and shaky they were, they were shaking a lot, he tried to ignore it and made himself keep walking.
'All this worrying will be for nothing, Thomas will be fine, and he'll tell you that you had no reason to worry about him, just like he normally does,' Scott attempted to reassure himself, one shaky hand been used to open an unlocked door that he had been standing outside of.
The door opened with a creak and Scott walked in, it was a little brighter than the other room and had a less boxes cluttering up the space there.
Scott blinked a few times before spotting something, someone.
Thomas.
He was sitting on the floor with his knees pulled to his chest and his head down his knees, he was shaking slightly. Almost like he was crying, Scott had never seen him cry, sometimes he forgot that Thomas was an actual human being instead of a robot that had no emotions, because he did have emotions like every human had feelings even if he didn't show them and even if he found it hard to talk about them, they were still there and they still were there just like everybody else's.
Scott sat beside the older man, sliding down the wall to sit beside him, "Found you."
Thomas looked up, seemingly startled by his friend before flinching to himself, turning his head away so Scott couldn't see him wipe the tears away, he cleared his throat, "Scott, shit, uh, what are you do-doing here?" Thomas cleared his throat again, trying to make his voice sound less shaky so that Scott wouldn't worry.
Not that he didn't worry anyways.
"Well, uh, your box thingy arrived, and you didn't answer when I called you like, twenty times. I got worried," Scott paused, noticing Thomas flinch again from guilt before he started talking again, "What's going on, Thomas, and don't feed me that bullshit that you give the others, I know something is up."
Thomas let out a little breathless laugh, shaking his head, "I'm fine, Scott, honestly, I'm f-fine." Another clear of his throat, his voice hitched a bit at the word 'fine' and he went quiet for a few moments, unable to speak without the threat of tears and completely breaking down in front of his co-worker and friend when he did eventually speak again his voice was unusually shaky for him, "I'll f-figure.. some-something out, don't worry. I just need some time to fix this... mess, don't worry."
"Tough shit, Thomas, I am worried about you, you're my friend." Scott flinched a bit as Thomas mumbled an apology, he hadn't meant to sound as harsh as he did, "I'm sorry, I just... you've been so distant lately and I want you to be safe, Thomas, you don't have to talk, you don't have to say anything at all. You- We can just sit here together; you don't have to say anythin-"
"Scott." Thomas interrupted Scott's rambling, a small smile on his face, barely noticeable but it was there, "I know, thank you."
Scott smiled, "I'm here for you; you don't have to talk."
Silence: for once it wasn't deafening, for once it felt calm, almost welcoming, friendly maybe.
They didn't speak again, they just sat there, right next to each other.
