09-17-2021, 10:22 PM
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Once again, William and Josephine were inseparable except, this time, their partnership hadn’t been bestowed upon them with the magisterial words of their Captain. It had been entirely William’s doing on this occasion which was mystifying — even to William — when he opened up to Joey about his plans. Perhaps a part of him desired another escapade with Joey by his side because, admittedly, their last trip had been exhilarating. It bound them by blood; the very first time William had seen Joey kill a man left him reeling. The power she possessed when she pulled the trigger was truly captivating, and suddenly watching the life drain from somebody’s eyes was just as fascinating to William as it was to be behind the trigger. Maybe he actually wanted her around more than he was willing to admit, even to himself.
And this trip was very different. Unlike the mission in Bluestem Prairie, William had what appeared to be some sort of personal vendetta against the people he was tracking. Maybe this was an excuse for another bloodbath with his lover, a fantasy which he never thought could possibly come true, or maybe the taste of revenge was all that he was interested in. Revenge was such a wasteful emotion, though. It could take a lot of time and effort to seek vengeance, time and effort that he would rarely be inclined to spend. But, the people that killed his brother were still out there, and they were most certainly revelling in the idea that they had won that day. Perhaps this revenge was not in the name of justice for his brother, but merely the desire to level out the playing field. It was a strategy. Turning a blind eye to the injustices would only paint him as weak, and he was desirous to prove them wrong.
Initially, Eddie disputed William’s determination to hunt down the people that had killed his brother. ❝ We can’t linger on the past, William. ❞ Eddie explained with exasperation to William as they argued in the office one evening. ❝ Finding them won’t bring your brother back. Besides, we need to turn our attention onto our issue with The Badlands. I need your full attention, Will. I need you to focus now… I’ll get one of our associates to deal with the Frederick case for you, a’right? ❞ William rolled his eyes, arms folded across his chest as cold eyes bore into his cousin's with distaste. ❝ No, Eddie, ❞ William pointed out sternly, ❝ I don’t want them to die by the hands of our associates. I want them dead, so I’ll do it myself. ❞ He gave Edmund a short, sneering smile with closed lips before turning to leave the office.
Days later and William had followed through on his newfound proclivity for revenge. With a tight jaw, William stood afar as he looked towards the house that he had last seen his brother in. The house that they broke into that fateful day to assassinate a man whose name William had already forgotten about. The house that William narrowly escaped from without his brother by his side. Would those boneheaded henchmen and associates still stay in the home their boss died in, or would they have moved on by now? ❝ I think Freddie died in there. ❞ William pointed out plainly, monotonously. As if he was not at all perturbed by the fact, because he well and truly wasn’t. It was simply a fact, no feeling involved. ❝ I doubt they’ll still be here, but hopefully they’ll have left something behind that’d give us a clue about their whereabouts. ❞ William gave a nonchalant shrug before he neared the house. ❝ Here’s to hoping anyways. ❞
Afterwards, he stayed silent, cracking the front door open and holding a loaded pistol up. Just in case he was wrong about the house being vacant. William crept into the hallway. Dried up blood had been left splattered across the ground, pooled in some places. Bullet holes pierced drywall. This was the last remainder of a fight that cost his brother his life, the horror of this crime scene ahead of him. But that was all that this was; the only thing left. Otherwise, the house appeared empty. Unused for weeks. William peered his head around the corner into what was left of a living room. The room was trashed, littered with empty beer bottles and scrap paper crumpled into balls. ❝ It’s not a glamorous job but still a job, all right. ❞ He reminded both himself and Joey, lowering the gun so he could pick up a ball of paper. He unfolded it in the hopes of finding any valuable information. Instead, completed games of noughts and crosses across the page. With a sigh, William balled the paper up again and tossed it aside. This was going to be a long day.
Once again, William and Josephine were inseparable except, this time, their partnership hadn’t been bestowed upon them with the magisterial words of their Captain. It had been entirely William’s doing on this occasion which was mystifying — even to William — when he opened up to Joey about his plans. Perhaps a part of him desired another escapade with Joey by his side because, admittedly, their last trip had been exhilarating. It bound them by blood; the very first time William had seen Joey kill a man left him reeling. The power she possessed when she pulled the trigger was truly captivating, and suddenly watching the life drain from somebody’s eyes was just as fascinating to William as it was to be behind the trigger. Maybe he actually wanted her around more than he was willing to admit, even to himself.
And this trip was very different. Unlike the mission in Bluestem Prairie, William had what appeared to be some sort of personal vendetta against the people he was tracking. Maybe this was an excuse for another bloodbath with his lover, a fantasy which he never thought could possibly come true, or maybe the taste of revenge was all that he was interested in. Revenge was such a wasteful emotion, though. It could take a lot of time and effort to seek vengeance, time and effort that he would rarely be inclined to spend. But, the people that killed his brother were still out there, and they were most certainly revelling in the idea that they had won that day. Perhaps this revenge was not in the name of justice for his brother, but merely the desire to level out the playing field. It was a strategy. Turning a blind eye to the injustices would only paint him as weak, and he was desirous to prove them wrong.
Initially, Eddie disputed William’s determination to hunt down the people that had killed his brother. ❝ We can’t linger on the past, William. ❞ Eddie explained with exasperation to William as they argued in the office one evening. ❝ Finding them won’t bring your brother back. Besides, we need to turn our attention onto our issue with The Badlands. I need your full attention, Will. I need you to focus now… I’ll get one of our associates to deal with the Frederick case for you, a’right? ❞ William rolled his eyes, arms folded across his chest as cold eyes bore into his cousin's with distaste. ❝ No, Eddie, ❞ William pointed out sternly, ❝ I don’t want them to die by the hands of our associates. I want them dead, so I’ll do it myself. ❞ He gave Edmund a short, sneering smile with closed lips before turning to leave the office.
Days later and William had followed through on his newfound proclivity for revenge. With a tight jaw, William stood afar as he looked towards the house that he had last seen his brother in. The house that they broke into that fateful day to assassinate a man whose name William had already forgotten about. The house that William narrowly escaped from without his brother by his side. Would those boneheaded henchmen and associates still stay in the home their boss died in, or would they have moved on by now? ❝ I think Freddie died in there. ❞ William pointed out plainly, monotonously. As if he was not at all perturbed by the fact, because he well and truly wasn’t. It was simply a fact, no feeling involved. ❝ I doubt they’ll still be here, but hopefully they’ll have left something behind that’d give us a clue about their whereabouts. ❞ William gave a nonchalant shrug before he neared the house. ❝ Here’s to hoping anyways. ❞
Afterwards, he stayed silent, cracking the front door open and holding a loaded pistol up. Just in case he was wrong about the house being vacant. William crept into the hallway. Dried up blood had been left splattered across the ground, pooled in some places. Bullet holes pierced drywall. This was the last remainder of a fight that cost his brother his life, the horror of this crime scene ahead of him. But that was all that this was; the only thing left. Otherwise, the house appeared empty. Unused for weeks. William peered his head around the corner into what was left of a living room. The room was trashed, littered with empty beer bottles and scrap paper crumpled into balls. ❝ It’s not a glamorous job but still a job, all right. ❞ He reminded both himself and Joey, lowering the gun so he could pick up a ball of paper. He unfolded it in the hopes of finding any valuable information. Instead, completed games of noughts and crosses across the page. With a sigh, William balled the paper up again and tossed it aside. This was going to be a long day.
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TAKE A HUMAN HEART , ADD SOME VANITY , AUTHENTICITY
[sup]AND PUT THEM ALL TOGETHER . DO WHATEVER TO YOUR BROKEN MACHINE .[/sup]