#twom au

[gretacticdraws]

I don't know where you all came from in the last post, so have some angst of Virgil

Definitely don't know what's going on here. Definitely. He's fine. Definitely.

[willows-adventures-in-words]

For anyone who hasn’t read the brief character ideas/info I posted forever ago about this AU I will summarize. This is the scene I mentioned in Anti’s information. John is Anti before he stopped using his name.

word count: 1478 Content Warnings: character death

____________________________

He ran pulling his brother along with him. They had to get away. They had to get away from the stand-off. “I ca- I can't. Give me... a minute.”

John stopped and turned to face his brother. His eyes widened. “Sean...”

Sean gave a strained smile. “I'm okay. Just... just give me a minute.” He held a hand to his side but the blood was clearly visible.

“Shit. Fuck. We gotta find you a doctor.” He hurried over. “Lemme carry you.”

“You don't-” He stopped and groaned at the pain as John moved to pick him up. “I-I can walk.” His voice was laced with pain.

Both brothers were stubborn. Especially when it came to the well-being of the other. Sean let out a small whimper as his brother hurried off. “I swear I'll find someone. We'll get you patched up and find a place to take shelter so you can heal.”

“...Most of the doctors left,” Sean mumbled as he leaned into him.

John was determined. “I will find someone.” He ran as carefully as he could out of the danger zone. Once out he found a place for them to rest, John carefully set his brother down before shrugging off their backpacks. All he could find after digging through them that would help was one roll of bandages and some medical tape. He was quiet for a moment. Turning to his brother, he saw him watching him. John smiled. “I'm gonna bandage you up, but then we gotta keep going.” Sean swallowed, already knowing it was going to hurt, and told him okay.

It was as bad as he had thought, if not worse. He hated this. He hated seeing him hurting like this. And he hated that he was the one making him try not to cry out as he tried his best to bandage his wound. Apply pressure, wrap it tight. Bandaging him up took longer than he wanted it to. But once he was finished, John stuffed what little was left of the bandages back in one of their bags before turning back to Sean. His brother had his head rested back against the wall of the collapsed building with his eyes closed. “You're going to be okay...”

“I know,” Sean said, his voice strained, as he opened his eyes. He turned his head slightly to look at his brother. “It just hurts.”

Pulling both of their backpacks on his back, John told him, “Come on, let's find you some better help.” Sean sucked air in through his teeth as he was lifted up again.

A half-hour past. John had tried a dozen houses but either no one was there or they were too afraid to open the door. He was getting really worried. The blood had soaked through the bandages. “Aren't you getting tired..?” Sean asked quietly.

With a shake of his head, John told him no. “How are you holding up?”

Sean rested his head against the others chest. “...Not great,” he mumbled. He groaned as John picked up his pace. A couple minutes later he was kicking at another door before cursing when no one answered. “It's alright. You'll find someone.”

Finally, after another fifteen minutes past, John was at another house kicking at the door. This time someone actually opened it. It was a woman looking to be in her twenties. Once she saw them she gasped. “Oh my god. What happened? Is he okay?”

“We were caught in the skirmish. Please, can you help my brother?”

“I... No, I'm sorry. I don't know the first thing about taking care of an injury like that,” she told him.

John spoke up again. He was starting to sound desperate. “Please, can't you...”

“It's okay.” John fell quiet as he and the woman looked to Sean. “You'll find someone...” he mumbled.

“...I think there was a clinic down a ways.” She pointed down the road. “If I remember right it was three blocks down then turn a right. I'm pretty sure it was down that road.” As John turned to leave, she told him, “I don't know if anyone is there, but hopefully you'll find what you need.” John thanked her before hurrying off.

Those three blocks took awhile to travel down. A good twenty minutes at least. As he turned the corner he looked around for the clinic. “We're almost there Sean.” When he didn't get a response he stopped and looked down. “...Sean?”

“...Yeah.” John sighed, relieved. “Almost there...” Picking up his pace, John searched more urgently. Finally, he found it. Just as she said. And it still looked in reasonable shape if you compared it to some of the other buildings. The entry consisted of a set of double doors. The first was of glass and was broken while the second, likely replaced, was wooden. John rushed over and gave the door a couple kicks. “Hey, is anyone here?!”

Sean listened as his brother called out. Though it was getting harder to focus on things. He hardly felt the pain from his wound anymore. Fear tugged at him. He wanted nothing more than to just close his eyes and rest, but he was afraid. Because what if he wouldn't wake back up? He couldn't leave John. They were all each other had.

When there was no response from inside, John twisted and reach for the door handle. To his surprise it wasn't locked. With a bit of difficultly, he managed to push it open. He was momentarily startled when a man warily greeted him from behind a desk. The man looked tired and his short brown hair looked messy, like he may have just woken up. He looked a good few years older than the two brothers. “Thank god...” John muttered. “Did you work here?”

“In a sense...” he shifted his gaze to Sean.

“Can you help my brother? We got caught in the skirmish a distance from here. Please.”

The man almost seemed to relax. He stepped around the desk and over towards them. Though once he got a good look at Sean he said, “Come with me. Quickly.” He ushered John to follow him down a darkened hallway and into one of the rooms. The man moved to turn on the flashlights around the room. There was even one duck-taped to the ceiling above the table that sat in the center of the room. “Lay him down. I need space.”

“You're gonna be okay,” John muttered quietly to his brother as he laid him down on the table. There was no response as John was ushered out of the way. He bumped his back against the wall and watched the man, who he assumed to be a doctor, tend to his brother. But when the doctor cursed and rushed out of the room, John slumped down to the floor. He remained there, staring off, as the other man hurried back in the room. After checking on Sean again the doctor stood quietly in front of the table. “...We were too late.” Everything felt like it was stopping. He stopped hearing what the doctor was saying. It felt like his mind was shutting down. This wasn't supposed to happen. He didn't deserve this. Sean was supposed to survive. Supposed to live. The doctor knelt down in front of him. He said something but it didn't register to John what was said.

Slowly, John turned his focus on him. His expression seemed mostly vacant, like he couldn't fully accept what happened. But his eyes showed such pain. His hands shook as he lifted them to his head. “This wasn't supposed to happen...” The other man remained quiet. “He was a good person. Always- Sean was always positive. He didn't...” John pulled his knees up. “It should've been me. It should've...” his voice cracked. John fell quiet.

“I'm sorry...” He didn't expect a reaction and continued. “I can not begin to understand how difficult this is for you, but take what time you need to mourn. Do not push yourself.” John remained quiet. The doctor didn't know if he was even registering what he was being told. It was likely he was in shock. “I suggest staying here awhile. I will prepare a room you can use.” He rested a hand on his shoulder for a moment before getting to his feet and heading for the door, pausing briefly to look back at the younger man and his deceased twin, before leaving fully.

John looked up at the table Sean laid on. He swallowed hard then buried his face in his arms.

_____________

Just as an extra note, I don’t usually use the name Sean when adding him in stories. But I had it in my head that if Anti survives the war then he will use the name Jack (Since Jack is a nickname for both Sean and John).

[willows-adventures-in-words]

Part of my This War of Mine AU. This takes place right before my Gunpoint prompt (I would link it but then this probably won’t show in the tags). Also, this is a scene directly from the game but slightly rewritten.

word count: 790 Content Warnings: someone gets saved from getting raped. Edit: I forgot to add the read more when I posted initially. It’s there now.

_____________________

It was dark out. Late. Chase was quite the distance from home. There were more people out but he avoided them. Just to be safe. He needed supplies and unfortunately nighttime was generally safer than trying to go out during the day. Daytime was unpredictable. Sure, at night there were dangers as well, just, different kinds. And if you're careful, less dangerous ones.

Looking across the street, Chase recognized the store on the corner. Literally named, The Corner Store. It was one of those one-stop places. He's only been there once but always found humor in the places' name. Glancing around he didn't see anyone and took that moment to jog over. Hopefully he could find what they needed.

The door was broken which told him the place was likely ransacked. Who knew what was left. He paused for a moment when he heard voices. Maybe if he was careful he could find what he needed without getting anyone's attention. He crouched down behind one of the shelves and removed his backpack before opening it and reaching inside. Chase never had to use it before but it sure made him feel safer. Making sure the safety was on, he tucked the handgun out of sight. Picking up his backpack, he slowly made his way farther in the store.

“That's a pretty name. It goes well with your pretty face.” Chase heard as he got closer, hoping to find the section he needed.

“...Thank you.” They must not know each other.

“You lookin' for something?” The man seemed drunk. Or teetering on the edge of being drunk.

“Just some food...”

Crap they were in the next isle. Should he try sneaking past? “Food? I can give you some food for a favor.” Chase could hear shuffling about. Well, this was starting to get uncomfortable. “Just come with me, babe. We'll dine and have some fun.” Chase cringed at that statement.

The sound of her rummaging stopped. “No, I... I'm afraid I can't. So-” She was cut off as the man spoke again.

“The hell you can't!” The girl shuffled back a couple steps as the man banged on something. “If you don't want to starve, you have to do what I tell you!” Chase tensed. This wasn't good.

The man started towards her, and, as she backed away, she said, “I'm sorry. I have to go home...”

Chase heard it. The thunk. A scuffle. Suddenly, she cried out, “No, please. Help! Someone please!” No... No no no. He had to do something. If he didn't then...

“Shut your damn mouth or I'll shoot you.” Chase swallowed and reached for his gun.

Chase was tense as he stepped out. “Leave her alone!” he shouted as he pointed his gun at the man.

The man, who Chase could now see was a soldier, looked back. “Stay the fuck outta this.”

“Please, help me!” The man turned and smacked her across the face.

“What did I say, you bitch.”

Clicking the safety off, Chase spoke up again. “I will shoot you.” Taking note, the man got up and, without any hesitation, lifted his rifle and fired. The girl nearly screamed. Pain flared in Chase's left shoulder. Panic welled up but he quickly tried to push it back down. He had to. If he didn't he was going to die. But this wasn't just about him... Quickly, he pulled the trigger. The soldiers eyes widened, clearly surprised. Anger crossed his face. Lifting his rifle again, he opened his mouth to speak when Chase fired again.

His hands shook as he stared at the man dead on the floor, bullet clear through the bridge of his nose. Chase lowered the weapon as his eyes met with the girl. No, young woman. She looked younger than him but not by that much. Wide-eyed, she scrambled backward and to her feet. But it was Chase who turned and ran. Dropping his gun into his backpack and flinging it over his good shoulder, before clamping his hand over his injured one and running for the exit of the store.

Chase was in a state of panic. What am I going to do, he thought. I just killed someone. I killed him. He slumped down next to a tree. The pain in his shoulder grabbed his attention. I... “I have to find bandages. Or something,” he mumbled. He tried to think but his thoughts just went back to the woman. Was she okay? He hadn't even asked. He just... ran. Staggering to his feet, Chase started walking again. He had to keep looking, since now he had more things to worry about.

[willows-adventures-in-words]

I wasn’t sure how to make this gore related, unless this does count? But either way the prompt gave me inspiration for this scene so...

October prompts Day 7: Nosebleed (goretober) word count: 461

________________________

From the roof Jackie could see the whole area. Which made it the perfect spot to scoop out the camp. This was his third time here and the soldiers didn't even know he was there. By this point he was sure he figured out the best method to ambush them. Getting up Jackie hurried off across the roof when suddenly a gun fired. The bullet nicked off the roof. Startled, Jackie slipped and tumbled down to the ground on the other side. “Shit...” He groaned as he hit the ground.

Jackie knew he didn't have time to recover; he had to get away before he was caught. Scrambling to his feet, he turned to run only to have the butt of a rifle slammed against the bridge of his nose. Pain flared and he saw spots in his vision for a moment. He tried to blink back the pain as he glared at the man. Blood dripping from his nose. The soldier pointed his rifle at Jackie. “You really thought we didn't see you?”  the soldier questioned before he whistled calling others to their location. Jackie's eyes darted about. What choices did he have? Quickly, he ran through his options. God, he hoped he was right about this...

He charged at the soldier and slammed his shoulder into his gut before he ran toward the nearest path of escape. Jackie was about to jump to climb back up onto the roofing when he was grabbed. The man that grabbed him twisted his arm sharply behind his back and slammed him against the wall. Jackie groaned from the pain. “Lock him up and keep a close eye on him!” The soldier turned to one of the others. “And you, send word to the captain. We'll see what she wants to do with this rebel trash.” As Jackie was being led away, the soldier spoke again, “I'm sure she will gladly make an example out of you.”

Jackie knew well enough what that meant and thrashed in the man's grip. The man tightened his grip and threatened to break his arm if he didn't stop. Jackie decided it was probably best to not risk it and instead bide his time till he could figure out what to do. The room he was dumped off in had no clear escape paths. Other than the window that is. Unfortunately it had lost its glass and was barred. Unzipping his hoodie, he sat with his back to the wall and pulled up the collar of his shirt, pressing it to his nose as he tried to stop the bleeding. Hopefully, he had time to think and come up with an escape plan. Otherwise he was going to be in serious trouble.

[willows-adventures-in-words]

October prompts Day 5: Gunpoint (Whumptober) Word Count: 1248

__________________________

Henrik startled awake from his restless sleep. He lay still and listened. There, that noise again. Someone very persistently managed to shove their way past his makeshift barricade against his front door. Thankfully, he kept his overly important things here in the room he sleep in. Even so... Quietly, Henrik got up. The floor creaked slightly as he stepped to the floor. He'd been reasonably lucky and hadn't been robbed often.

Picking up a flashlight and the key to the room, Henrik made his way to the door. He waited and listened for where they could be. There was rummaging close by for a moment before they shuffled elsewhere. Carefully, he unlocked the door and pulled it open. Re-locking it he peeked out of the room. They had their back to him as they riffled through a cabinet. Their movement screamed desperate. Stepping out of his room, Henrik pulled the door so that it was only cracked open. He took a breathe to calm his nerves. “Are you in need of help?”

The man spun around with a slight stagger and pointed a gun at him. Henrik pulled the door closed then lifted his arms signaling that he had no intent on fighting him. “Give me bandages. And... and painkillers.” Even in this dim lighting Henrik could tell the man looked pale. “Just-just let me take what I need.” And his stagger when he turned. “Hurry up.” He didn't seem at all confident. Just desperate and worn out. Henrik noticed his left shoulder. And hurt if the darker spot on his clothes said anything.

“You do not look well. Let me help you.” The man leaned back against the cabinet. Henrik slowly lowered his arms. “I am a doctor. Let me help.” His lips parted in thought for a second before he lowered the gun. “Good. Good, come with me,” Henrik instructed as he started in his direction. Then froze as the gun was lifted. Pointing his flashlight to the floor he turned it on. Moving it along the floor he directed towards a hallway. “We are going there,” he told him.

Henrik was wary. The man had a gun. It was difficult to tell if he was going to end up using it or not. He suspected he wasn't but to be safe he remained cautious. “...Okay.” After he took another step towards the hallway did the man lower the gun again.

Leading the way, Henrik led him to one of the rooms near the end. There were no windows, he had to rely solely on the flashlight which he set down on the counter. He motioned to the medical bed and said, “Take a seat if you don't mind.” The other man leaned against the doorframe with his right side. “Sir, if you wish medical help you will need to sit down.”

“It's... just my shoulder,” he mumbled as he finally moved out of the doorway. Henrik couldn't exactly blame him for being wary. With everything going on you didn't always know who you could trust. And he supposed his accent didn't help his case. The man grimaced at the bright light from the flashlight since, when he'd sat down, it was eye level. He turned his head away from the light.

“You will need to remove your jacket,” Henrik informed his patient. He watched as he shrugged the backpack off of his shoulder and set the gun down next to it before he wiggled his arm out of the sleeve before slowly pulling his arm from the other sleeve. Then he rested his hand on the weapon again. The man still had function in his arm, that was a good sign. Henrik paused for a moment before speaking. “How much do you care about your shirt?” He wore a short sleeve grey shirt.

“...Indifferent, I guess.”

“I will be back in a moment. Do not leave.” Henrik picked up the flashlight and left the room, leaving the man seated in the dark. When he came back, Henrik was only a little surprised to see him waiting. He set both the flashlight and the bag he carried on the counter. Opening the bag, he dug for a second before pulling out a pair of fabric scissors. “Might I ask what happened?” Henrik questioned as he stepped over to his injured side.

There was silence as Henrik started to cut the sleeve. “I saved someone from...” he paused for a second. “From, getting assaulted.” The sleeve fell open exposing his wound. “I was shot,” he mumbled.

“I see... And how is your arm? You can still move and grab things. Is it numb?” His patient gave a slight shake of the head. There was a pause, then Henrik moved over and picked up the flashlight. The next thing he said surprised them both. “You are one lucky man...”

The other man glanced over and, squinting his eyes at the light, muttered, “I don't feel lucky.”

“Well,” the doctor started as he set the flashlight back on the counter and shifted through his bag. “The bullet missed everything that could have caused permanent damage.” After a moment he handed the man a thick piece of fabric which he accepted with a look of confusion. “I will be cleaning, stitching, and bandaging your injury. If it hurts I would rather you bite on that than scream.”

“Oh...” When Henrik turned back to him he asked, “Um, is that stuff sanitary?”

“Yes. I still do have some equipment that is sanitized.”

Initially, it wasn't so bad. But once Henrik started to stitch closed his injury the man could barely keep himself still as his he clenched his teeth against the fabric the doctor gave him, letting out sharp breathes through his nose, as he tightly gripped the cushion he sat on. When the doctor was finished and started to bandage him up did the man finally start to be able to calm down. “You will need to let it heal. No heavy lifting. I do not recommend anymore outings. Not for the time being,” Henrik informed him as he finished up and moved back to the counter with his supplies.

“Thanks, doc.”

“It's Henrik. And you are welcome.” He glanced back to notice his patient moving to get up. “No, no. Where are you going?”

He looked up at him. “I need to get home.”

“You will stay here until morning. I can not let you leave in your condition. You need rest.”

Shaking his head he told him, “Stacy will worry.” Though even as he told him this he seemed a little reluctant to leave.

“Your wife?” He nodded. “I am sure she would rather have you safe and resting than leaving in the shape you are in.”

The man was quiet as he thought. Henrik turned back to taking care of his things. “I really appreciate this,” he told Henrik as he put the gun, with the safety on, back in his backpack before lowering it to the floor.

Henrik collected his equipment then turned to face his guest. “I will see you in the morning.”

“Chase.”

Offering a smile he told him, “Try to sleep well, Chase.” Then left the room leaving Chase in darkness.

[willows-adventures-in-words]

I hope this counts as gore. I’ve never really written it before...

October prompts Day 1: Bullets (goretober) word count: 338

_____________________

Jameson had already started getting doubts about everything that was happening. Questioned whether what they were doing was right. He'd asked once, but got reprimanded and kept his thoughts to himself after that. But now, as he marched out with the rest of their forces to once again confront the rebellion, he couldn't help the doubts as they crept back to the surface. Was this really right? Turning their guns and military might towards civilians? How did it all come down to this?

Gun fire caught them by surprise. The rebels had known they were coming. How did they know? Orders were shouted around him as he ducked behind some cover. “Jackson! Where are they firing from!” Jameson took a breathe before he looked around than scrambled out from behind his cover. A bullet nicked his arm as he ran. He slid down behind some more cover. As far as he could tell there were a few places their enemy was hiding. Jameson shouted back to his superior. But once he did the rebels started to retreat. He was hesitant to pursue them. Something didn't feel right. His superior shouted at him to stop dragging his feet and go after them. Jameson paused for just another moment, wary of pushing his luck, than started after them.

He didn't get to far when shots were fired. Then a loud explosion. Jameson felt a sharp pain and was thrown off his feet. His ears were ringing. People were shouting. Leave him, he heard someone say. His superior..? No, he was fine. He went to open his mouth but it hurt. Something by his throat. He weakly lifted his arm. His whole body hurt. Blinking slowly, he felt something sharp lodged in his neck. Oh. Jameson dropped his arm back down. He was going to die. That... that made sense. He blinked as he stared up at the sky. The last thing he heard, as he let his eyes drift closed, was gunfire and heavy footsteps off in the distance.

[willows-adventures-in-words]

October prompts Day 2: Explosion (whumptober) word count: 920

_________________________

Marvin sat down in the basement with Jaydin, his siamese cat, curled up on his lap. He was seated on a cushion that belonged on a futon that he propped half against the wall. There wasn't much for furniture down there; and, though he didn't mind, he had considered bringing a couple more things down from his apartment. But he had a busy day and didn't feel up to doing any of that so late. It was one of the busier days he'd had in awhile. Other then the occasional theft or hold ups, most people were still pretty decent and willing to give something in return for what he had in his pawn shop.

It was a good day. Everyone who had come in was willing to trade something. Since at this point cash didn't count for much. He'd even heard of people burning it to start a fire for warmth now that it was getting colder. Marvin tried not to. He knew that when all this was over he was going to need whatever money he had to rebuild and replace things. As for the items in his shop, well, he supposed it was just stuff. And with how chaotic it was nobody really wanted stuff unless it was useful. Today he gave a little boy an old action figure. Marvin wasn't going to forget the smile on the boys face.

Tipping his head back against the wall, Marvin wondered if he should turn off the flashlight and conserve batteries. It wasn't like he really needed the light right now. After all it was getting late in the day and he wasn't exactly in the mood to read. With a sigh, he removed his hand from Jaydin's back and picked up the flashlight that he had balanced on its end. Just as he was about to turn it off, Marvin heard his other cat, an adorable calico named Cici, yowling from its hiding spot on the other side of the room. He turned the beam of light over to see what was wrong. The poor thing hadn't handled this whole situation well. He was always hiding somewhere. Marvin couldn't find anything unusual though.

Jaydin lifted his head and looked around. He got up and took a second to stretch before giving a small meow and looking up. “What's wrong?” Marvin asked softly as he followed its gaze. It was quiet for a bit before even Marvin thought he heard something. It didn't sound like it, but Marvin wondered if someone was stealing from his shop.

Warily, he got to his feet and started towards the stairs leading up into his shop. He barely made it a few steps when he was knocked off his feet by an explosion above ground. A good portion of the building came down around him. He spotted Jaydin and, dropping his flashlight, scrambled over to him and grabbed him, keeping him close when something struck him from above. Marvin slumped over, dazed and in pain.

Slowly, Marvin blinked his eyes open. What..? What happened? His ears were ringing and his head was throbbing as he slowly moved to get up. He could see the mound of rubble mere inches away from his face. Jaydin was shaking as he laid up against him. By instinct, Marvin lifted a shaky hand and ran it over his back hoping to sooth his fears. The light from his flashlight behind him was dim from all the dust in the air. Sitting up he tried to ignore the unbearable headache as he pushed off the rubble that landed on his lower legs, then reached back for the flashlight. He tried to keep a hand on the siamese the whole time.

Marvin shown the flashlight around the room. At least half of it was buried under rubble. He couldn't see where the stairs were anymore. There was no exit. He moved the light to where Cici had been hiding and his heart sank. There... It was gone. That whole area was completely buried. “Help...” His throat was dry. Marvin moved to get up but nearly fell as he put pressure on his ankle. Tears stung as he practically crawled to the rubble and started to try to pull it away. “Help...!” He barely managed to move a couple pieces which only resulted in some more rubble tumbling down. “Please. Is anyone there?!” Marvin let out a cough. “Help!” Tears slid down his cheeks. “Help...!”

Panic welled up quickly. Faster than it ever had before. His world literally crumbled down around him and everything suddenly hit him all at once. The war and all the effects of it. Losing his shop. Cici. All of it. His breathes came quicker. He choked back a sob. Marvin pulled his shaking hands back from the rubble as he sat slumped, elbows nearly touching his knees. “He-help me,” he gasped between breathes. He hugged himself gasping for air. “I ca- I can't...” I can't breath. Can't get out. I'm trapped. I'm going to die.

He didn't even realize his cat bumped lightly against his leg. Not until he laid down on his legs. The siamese must have known he needed comfort. And, since he was in dire need of comfort as well, he sought Marvin out. It took awhile before Marvin managed to calm himself down. But when he did, he shuffled himself back to the futon cushion and curled up with Jaydin. Then cried again.

[willows-adventures-in-words]

I've tallied quite a lot of hours in the game This War of Mine. It's inspired me to write an AU. Since I'm not very creative I've tagging it as TWoM AU. I still have a lot to work out; like a coherent timeline. So I have, for the time being, decided to write scenes and piece them together later when I get it figured out. Under the read more is some base information on the characters, mainly the egos, who will be involved in the AU so far.

Chase: He was seen with Anti, who was a wanted man, by the military. Because of this small incident, the military believed that he was harboring rebel forces. One day as he came home, he saw the military at his house. Panicked, he ran home to find his wife badly injured. He was threatened by the military as he insisted that they weren't harboring any of the rebels, before the military left. His wife passed away after telling him that whatever he did he had to protect their kids. He went upstairs to search for where his kids hid only to find a window open and his kids nowhere to be seen.

(I had also had a much sadder version that I decided against)

Henrik: He, as well as his wife, are trained doctors who have opened up their own clinic. A friend from his home-town asked for his help to open a clinic of his own to which he agreed, after talking to his wife about it. Unfortunately, about a month after he arrived, the war broke out. His wife called him asking him to please come home. He told her he would soon. He called her often, letting her know both he and his friend were okay. But when she heard that things were escalating she pleaded with him to come home when the phone call was suddenly cut off. When he tried to leave he discovered the routes out of the city were barred making it impossible for anyone to come or go. Since then his friend had died in a military bombing and Henrik has taken residence in his clinic while trying to help those he can.

Anti: His real name is John. When dealing with him, he usually comes off as a cold person. His twin brother was injured during a military attack. He couldn't find him help until it was too late and he died due to his injuries. Since then has stopped using his real name; just telling people when asked, to call him Anti or not giving them a name at all.

Jameson: He was previously part of the military. Early in the war he got severely injured by flying debris and was left for dead on the battlefield. He was found and saved by a civilian doctor. As he was recovering from his injury, he had plenty of time to think. He decided to not go back to the military, seeing as how he not only lost his ability to speak, but he didn't sign up to fight the people he was meant to protect.

Jackie: He is part of the rebel forces. Before he joined the rebel forces he was would be athlete who ran parkour to train. Unfortunately, his potential sports career was cut short when the war started. He was recruited and decided to join the rebel forces to help stop the governments mistreatment of its people. Though he came to find that the rebel forces were nearly just as bad as the military. The lesser of two evils as one would say.

Marvin: He's a former stage performer now pawn shop owner. The apartment he lives in is above his shop. There is a small basement to the pawn shop that he never really found a use for until the war started. Now he keeps most of his things down in the basement since it's a safer place to be than his apartment. Since he has no family in the city, his two cats keep him company.

Cats (names possible to change): Cici (calico), Jaydin (siamese). He got Jaydin as a kitten from a pet shop he often visited. Marvin usually just calls him Jay. Cici he found outside not far from his pawn shop as a kitten. He was dirty, hungry, and unwell. Marvin took him in and, with some advice from the pet shop he got Jaydin at, he nursed him back to health.