Indie. Private. Low-activity. Zachariah Trench from Control (2019). Mobile info: link — < ▼ > ““ I get so confused, so easily. Um. It's so very hard to uh, follow everything that's happening. ““
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@zachariahs
Indie. Private. Low-activity. Zachariah Trench from Control (2019). Mobile info: link — < ▼ > ““ I get so confused, so easily. Um. It's so very hard to uh, follow everything that's happening. ““
sollumin·:
Zeke stared at the other for a minute as his mind grappled with the situation at hand. He was primed to defend himself just seconds ago, and now, his impromptu visitor was trying to make small talk as if he owned the place, like it wasn’t a big deal to be breaking into a friend’s apartment. New York truly lives up to its name.
Shifting his position from where he was standing, he stepped closer then,
“Zeke. Casper let me crash at his place until I could find a place of my own somewhere… He’s at work right now and won’t be back home until later tonight. I’ll let him know you came by.”
Zeke wasn’t about to play host to the other, at least not until he was sure of Casper’s approval. And there was something about it all that compelled him to satisfy his curiosity,
“He’s been out longer and longer lately…I think it’s some new project his boss wanted him to do. What’s wrong with him that made you so worried? He was fine the last time we talked, like two days ago?” Had it really been two days??
— < ▼ > Trench brought up the lighter to his cigarette, lit it, as he listened. Inhaled, exhaled. Nodded as if in vague understanding.
❝I see... and what exactly compelled him to do that?❞ Trench narrowed his eyes, looking at Zeke through the smoke. This was a fairly odd situation, Darling wasn’t keen on taking in strays-- but then again, he was helpful with P6. Suppose, in that sense-- he was in fact keen on taking in strays? For a second Trench imagines a life where Casper would adore cats or dogs, housing them and taking care of them... he tries not to laugh about it but there’s a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. Devil’s dancing.
❝Working longer hours? Really? He’s been acting too absent minded, skipping work -- which is not crossing over, especially for him. Once is more than enough to raise suspicion, yet with what you said-- I do wonder... Suppose, I wanted to make sure he wasn’t on a one-way-ticket to become a junkie.❞ He shrugs. ❝Even before these last two days you named, he has been closed off from me-- which is highly unusual.❞ Trench says it so matter of fact, completely electing to ignore how much that says about their already strange friendship. Yet, it was true, Trench wasn’t used to Darling not having lunch with him, skipping coffee breaks that seemed to be their designated work discussion time, halting him in offering drinks after work so they could finish a conversation or two.
❝It started loosely after the Christmas party. Did you meet him soon after then, by chance?❞ Hell, he even hung up on a call from Trench. Quite the insult to the Director of the FBC.
sollumin·:
Hearing the steps growing ever closer, closing in on the poor choice of hiding place, Zeke felt himself holding his breath and focusing in on the sound. His heart beat hard in his ears, grip tightening on the handle of the potato smasher that happened to be sitting dirty in the sink moments before. Reflecting upon this now, of all times, he could have picked a better tool. The sound didn’t last long, Zeke opting for that moment to reveal himself but it was the strangers voice that put a stop to that prematurely. “F-Friends? You??” The younger man stammered in disbelief, lowering the mallet but keeping his guard up regardless. He had a funny way of showing it, breaking into the other’s apartment unannounced. And even if he was Casper’s boss, why wasn’t he at work instead? “C-Casper said he wasn’t expecting anyone today; how I do I know you’re really friends?? What do you want, anyways? Don’t think I won’t kick your ass out of here if you don’t give me a good enough answer.” Zeke really hoped he wouldn’t have to but who knows what this guy was all about? He looked like he had all of his mental faculties, carried himself like he was important but there was an air about him that had left the other confused, somehow. “He didn’t say anything about a Zachariah Trench, either.”
— < ▼ > Trench finally, really, looked over the kid, feeling put off over how young he looked. How old was he anyway? Definitely not older than 24, at worst. But it was hard to tell with that face... it gave Trench’s gut a sinking feeling, realizing how inappropriate this could turn if rumor got out of what Casper was doing behind closed doors. Raya, well-- Trench could allow Raya. She was in the same age range, and despite them working together, they seemed to always get along and ended on decent terms. This kid? Well, the problem was -- he was just a kid! Trench’s face scrunched up slightly with a dissatisfied frown.
❝Tsk, figures.❞ Trench mutters upon the other’s words of Darling electing to not mentioning, probably upsetting him more than it had the right to. Trench pushed the feelings away, something he’s gotten extremely good at doing and glared at the young man in front of him. ❝I broke in because he’s been acting odd... even odder than usual. I figured I could find out if he’s doing something illegal, or not-- but here I found you, instead.❞ He rolled his eyes, sighed. ❝I just wanted to make sure of his well-being.❞ It was honest at least, even if not favorable to admit.
The Director didn’t even look around, instinctively know where what was in Darling’s apartment over the many nights he spent here discussing work matters and generally sitting in silence with the other man. Zachariah sat down at the table in the kitchen, put one of his legs over the other and took out a packet of Black Pyramid cigarettes. Darling usually allowed him to smoke here, despite his complaints about it.
❝What’s your name, kid?❞ Trench doesn’t even look at the youngster in front of him as he takes out a cigarette and puts it in his mouth, not yet lighting it.
ooc|| Hi, I’m back.
James McCaffrey in Burnzy’s Last Call
Assorted Headcanons about Zachariah Trench from Control (2019). Most likely not canon compliant.
Early life:
His mother walked out of Zachariah’s and his father’s life when he was only 4 years old. His parents had not been married; therefore she simply packed one night and left… He doesn’t recall too much about her, but she seemed like she cared and therefore he’s never recovered by the backstabbing of this action. (To be completely fair, his dad was a scumbag and she did the right thing, Zachariah was more hurt she didn’t take him with her).
His father started adapting Zachariah to the idea of hunting at the age of 5 (small steps first, he didn’t pick up a gun till he was 10). At age 12, the first time he shot an animal, he broke down crying and his father called him a coward for it.
From the age of 7 to the age of 14 Zachariah was relentlessly bullied at school. He never really had friends during this period of his life, besides a few fleeting people that moved out of the small town he was in sooner or later.
At age 16, Zachariah on the baseball team in his school. He smoked his first cigarette after practice then, had a coughing fit.
At age 18, leaving school, he swore he wouldn’t go to the military. He didn’t want to follow his father’s footsteps. Despite that, we know he did.
Had a dog, or well—it was a stray he was friendly with… Called her Dotty. They got along well, for several weeks before she vanished a few days before his graduation.
(There’s military era here, but I feel like that’s not something I have enough authority to comment, I am not an expert– despite having a few ideas here and there.)
Post-military:
Got a job at the police. Was an officer for a few years, before making it as a detective. Trench did not enjoy it that much.
Met Kate working as a coroner on one of his first cases as a detective. They hit it off. He liked her a lot…
Proposed and married Kate a few years after they started dating. Susanne came along a year or so later.
Recruited by the FBC before his daughter even turned two years old.
James McCaffrey in Canterbury’s Law
James McCaffrey in Sex and the City, season 4, episode 2: “The Real Me”
ooc|| wanttohurt -> zachariahs
also, does anyone want me back? I’ve been depressing on my other blog, too. But despite sucking at this, I want to have fun.
OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS.
APHRODITE: laughter-loving, sweet smiles, dressed in silk and satin, flower in their hair, sees the world as a runway, unapologetically sexual, the sea washing their ankles, in love with love, stirrer of passion, cunning concealed by painted lips, secret daggers, doves, revolution in their kiss, delighting in the waves, flirtatious winks, strolling along the beach, staring wistfully from a balcony, this is how to be a heartbreaker, wants to be adored, gets turned on by danger.
APOLLO: glitz and glamour, art galleries, turning the volume up, being made of gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, bathing in the sunlight, the powerful urge to create, collecting vinyl records, beautiful cover of wonderwall, playing multiple instruments, tasting like sunshine, healing touch, speaking in prophecies, smile mingled with wrath, shunning lies, sporting shades, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, sleeps naked,arrow to the heart, paint brushes, probably has a tinder account.
ARES: armed for battle, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, soft spot for children, gives piggyback rides, scarred body, blood on their hands and face, willing to fight the world for the ones they love, fights against injustice, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, boxing gloves, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, fist raised in protest, ignites revolutions, fear is a prison, more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think, exhausted, damaged goods, force to be reckoned with, red roses, curses under their breath.
ARTEMIS: keen sense of a hunter, freckles like constellations on their skin, piercing eyes, disheveled braid, moonlight peeking through the shadows, the calm of the forest at night, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, mother doe and her fawn, protecting their kin, the moon shimmering on a still lake, quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree, running with wolves, bonding while circled around a campfire, not being much of a people person, arrow hitting a target, popping egos, patience on 3%,touches heaven and returns howling.
ATHENA: discerning gaze, unreadable face, quiet museums, owl perched on their finger, armor that intimidates, eye for architecture, plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid, big fan of logic, loves brain teasers, ancient buildings, sweaters in neutrals and cool colors, hair done up, can kill you with their brain, heads to the library often to research, sharpened pencils, abs that can cut steel, stoic statues, pottery classes.
DEMETER: soil-covered hands, smile that can bloom flowers, skin loved by the sun, being the mom-friend, can lift you and your friends, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, takes pride in their beautiful garden, speaks to their plants, leaves rustling in the wind, stalks of wheat, picking fruit, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, values simplicity, daisies dotted across a collarbone, curls crowned with flowers, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.
DIONYSUS: drunk shitposter, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, seductive smirks, untamed curls, rich fabrics on dark skin, sleek-furred panthers, theater masks, stage productions, receiving a standing ovation, rose caught between their teeth, being the baby of the bunch, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup, creeping vines, inspiring loyalty, grand opera houses, masquerade balls, rolls of film, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine-spilled floor, pouring champagne into flutes, lives for the applause.
HEPHAESTUS: the calloused hands of someone who knows labor, sweaty brow, flame burning in their eyes, inventive mind, broad shoulders, steampunk goggles, nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes, ashes, striking a match, blueprints for future projects, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, wrestles with bitterness, work boots have seen better years, wrinkled plaid shirts, iron melted in blazing fire, huge jackets, crafting masterpieces, greased-stained overalls, fascination with robotics, pain is fuel, stack of weaponry, even their muscles have muscles.
HERA: resting bitch face, dressed to the nines, cows grazing on a pasture, cool rain, loving and hating fiercely, hand clutching a string of pearls, large chandelier with glittering crystals, plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims, romance to realism, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, files that under fuck it, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix, like their selfie or you’re grounded, knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, marble and gold.
HERMES: devil-may-care smile, always up-to-date on the latest technology, will steal your french fries, does it for the vine, shitposter, puts googly eyes on everything, meme hoarder, long drives on the highway, ma and pop diners, spontaneous road trips, folded maps, fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, shooting hoops on the basketball court, chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations, goes jogging in the morning, mixes redbull with coffee, menace on april fool’s, hoodies and sneakers.
POSEIDON: storm with skin, colorful coral reefs, waves crashing against the shore, stroking the soft fur of a cat, their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, clothes smeared with paint, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more, leather jackets, fondness for diy projects, handwriting that flows across the page, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, mood as ever-changing as the sea, the roar of a motorcycle, compass with a spinning arrow.
ZEUS: thunder in their heart, running on coffee, flash of lightning, natural charisma, eloquence, badass in a nice suit, aficionado of history, force of nature, lenny face, nightmare-filled nights, proud arm around their lover’s waist, high-rise buildings, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, technician on the piano, maintains order, strong handshake, juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease, expensive watch.
What Is Your Love Language?
a knife called grief
You have left your house, you have left those people behind, but what are you going to do about the memories which have taken root in you? You can run but not without them. You want someone to sit with you on this cool marble floor while the sun burns everything. You want them to cut your rotten heart and theirs too. You want to sit with it in front of you, let them see you with all your flaws, which haven’t been your fault but you have been made to believe so, and you want them to love you anyways. Because you know you’d do that for them.
tagged by: @farawaystreet and @onmyshlders tagging: --
Fear-Themed Headcanon Questions || Status: No Longer Accepting farawaystreet asked:( The Dark: Did your muse sleep with a nightlight as a child? Curses: Does your muse believe in good/bad luck? How about karma? )
— < ▼ >
Curses: Does your muse believe in good/bad luck? How about karma?
It’s hard to not believe in good or bad luck when the Bureau houses a luck and probability research lab. So that’s a definite yes. And as far as anything goes, Trench considers himself to have incredibly bad luck more often than not. As for Karma? It’s not exactly proven by the FBC, but with everything he knows-- it’s most likely real as well. Peoples thoughts do influence the OOPs, so why not something intangible as well?
Fear-Themed Headcanon Questions || Status: No Longer Accepting ghxstfrxquxncies asked: //Solitude, Getting Old. Thank you! 🖤
— < ▼ >
SOLITUDE: Name 3 things your muse couldn’t live without.
Knowledge that this will end.
Understanding of the unknown.
The few loved ones he currently has in his life.
GETTING OLD: Would your muse rather live 50 years loved, or 200 years alone?
In a heartbeat, this one is easy for him. He’d rather be alive for only 50 years and be loved through it than ever be left alone. But he punishes himself by withdrawing from people, not letting anyone get close.
Fear-Themed Headcanon Questions || Status: No Longer Accepting dxedgirl asked: The Dark: Did your muse sleep with a nightlight as a child?
— < ▼ >
The Dark: Did your muse sleep with a nightlight as a child?
If listened to Alan Wake’s manuscript, it would have been a reasonable fear to even keep as an adult. But Trench never feared the dark, he feared what may lay within it. His father never did anything to help him with this. Never comforted him once he got worked up, or told him there were no monsters under the bed. Which soon enough made him repress that fear, get over it. Zachariah’s mother may have acted different, but she never was there to begin with. Trench, to some degree, prefers well lit areas as opposes to dim light, but it’s a little childish now...
@cloakedinfall || planned starter
— < ▼ > Heavy steps are heard through the building, an odd marching of sorts as the director makes his way to the nostalgia department. The maze was walked through, the string pulled enough, and the cigarette in his mouth was almost completely ash. Trench put it out in the trashcan along his way, stepped into the room, sure that he was alone. There was a reason he was there, there was a reason it called to him to do this-- whether he would be safe or not was not the concern. His life was worth nothing if it meant not compromising any more rangers, agents... the staff had to be safer than him. He couldn’t carry the weight, accept the blood on his hands. He needed to improve the situation.
Dr. Darling had left less than half an hour ago, as reported to him by security, which meant this was the perfect time to do this. It meant, nobody could stop him. And he had no interest in endangering anyone else. Let alone his god damn golden child head of research. He knew what they called him, and it didn’t bode well, but it was true -- he just didn’t want to admit it. He wanted to keep the entire management team safe, but Darling took priority as the only one who understood these things. Until he is due to be replaced, he will have to remain shielded.
With these thoughts in mind, Zachariah Trench turns on the projector and watches it come to life. His tired eyes direct themselves to the sight of the image forming on the wall. He sighs, takes in the situation with a hand resting on his service weapon holster, readying himself for whatever might come.
ooc|| Sorry, had to take an impromptu hiatus @_@ am here now, gonna work on stuff I owe.