AND WE'RE ALONE --- oneshot, open

[ADDY.]

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— he’d made his way towards the sound of a hatchet- and was only slightly relieved to see that it had been salem chopping wood and.. not someone chopping up something - or somebody - else. catalyst had already managed to beat him there, looking over at them with a raised brow before finally looking over towards salem.

and the boss was right. salem really did look like shit. more like shit than usual, he had to add. he looked more dead inside, like he was some shell of a man sick and practically dying, dirty from chopping up wood. and from whatever the hell else he’d been doing before the redhead had stopped by.

now ever since the raid, addy hadn’t quite trusted salem. the two didn’t see eye-to-eye really, but the redhead still liked the guy. it wasn’t his job to care for this man, but still he couldn’t help crossing his arms over his chest, staring at him for a moment longer before muttering, “the hell happened to you?”

//sorry for this post i’m

[capt. salem]

AND CHANCES ARE, THEY WON'T GO FAR | | |

The Worm thing here was... Well, he couldn't say he'd been any better when he was in a position of power, but it felt much more humiliating around here. At least at sea they took you, body and soul, and had a small vested interest in you not dropping dead. The Worms here didn't exactly get that treatment, so he preferred to give them a wide berth.

And it's not like a bit of manual labor would kill you. Sometimes it was nice; the ache of his muscles distracted from any thoughts that might bog him down. His eyes slid up to lock on Cat, and the sight of the Badlands leader dashed any numbness he'd managed to cultivate.

"What did you expect me to be doing?" Salem snapped back, but it was without his usual cheerful bite; the sound of his own voice sounded pathetic, even to him. His eyes moved to Addy, who had cropped up as well it seemed.

He didn't trust Cat, or Addy, and that killed him a little bit. He wanted to trust and be trusted, but nobody in the Badlands seemed interested in that; hell, at times they seemed actively antagonistic towards each other. "Good observational skills, a gold star for both of you." Salem snarked, huffing. "I'm just throwing a little pity party, so don't feel the need to act concerned."

[justify]No, I don't care what momma says, [abbr=Goes by Salem or Monty ✴ He/Him or They/Them Pronouns ✴ 28yrs Old ✴ 6'3" ✴ Former pirate captain ✴ Sexuality is a unlabeled free for all, romance is questioning]&[/abbr]
You'll wind me up, [abbr=Medium Physically ✴ Hard Mentally ✴ Attacks with whip, scimitar or revolver✴ Open to capture and maim if requested / discussed prior ✴ Not open for death ✴ Difficult but not impossible to defeat or subdue]&[/abbr]
Or you'll wind up dead [abbr=Guy Fieri aesthetic ✴ Ear-length dull brown hair ✴ Bright green eyes ✴ Three piercings on both ears (two on top cartilage, one large on lobe), and a lip piercing ✴ Five o'clock shadow 24/7 but can never grow a real beard  ✴ Both pinky fingers cut off]&[/abbr]
(IC Opinions)[/justify]

[CATALYST]

C  A  T  A  L  Y  S  T

[table]

[ADDY.]

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— there was a small part of addy that actually did like salem. i mean, the man could be a real asshole, which was only the perfect sort of company for someone like the redhead. given, he was usually cheery - something that didn’t fit at all with addy’s own views and behaviors. but they could get along, optimistically. however, given their time out on salem’s mission, and the injuries he’d sustained from it.. there were many reasons that day why his trust was wavering.

so as salem snapped back at the two, he hadn’t flinched. instead, he stood there and watched, unwavering for a moment. it wasn’t like salem to be this way; something had to be up. but it wasn’t his fucking business to be going around prying.

“salem- shut the fuck up,” he retorted, his remark a bit different from cat’s. a pause. part of him figured that this conversation wouldn’t go anywhere, especially with salem in this attitude - and addy with his own fuckin’ attitude as well. he shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced between the hatchet and the dead, fallen tree salem had been picking at. “if you don’t want to say what happened, fine- but don’t take your fucking shit out on me.” not that salem had asked for either one of them to come over and observe what the hell was going on. but, still, it wasn't addy's first go-to to be the slightest bit compassionate.

[capt. salem]

AND CHANCES ARE, THEY WON'T GO FAR | | |

Salem stood up, rolling his shoulders to release some of the tension held there. It felt like being prodded by children while he was stuck at some sort of zoo; they just kept pushing, just kept pushing, despite the fact if they fell into his cage they'd quickly realize they hadn't wanted to interact with him on a personal level whatsoever.

He hadn't expected Catalyst or Addy to care, and like he'd guessed they didn't. Cat acted like they did; though really, they'd expected him to be out giving himself alcohol poisoning and then shot back that it was their job to look after his well-being? Cat didn't act like this with anybody, he was a bit tired of their gracious leader treating him like a child throwing a tantrum over not being able to stick a fork into an electric socket.

He locked his jaw as Addy snapped at him to shut up, and shrugged to both of them. "Good idea, Cat, I might do that next." Salem said, slipping into a poker face. It felt like being back under Elena's thumb, forcing himself to shove everything down to the bottom of his soul where it'd fester and rot him from the inside-out. "If you two insist on hanging around and insist on not putting up with my bad mood why don't we change the subject? Austin's making me wear something clean to the wedding, what standards for dress has he inflicted on you two?"

[justify]No, I don't care what momma says, [abbr=Goes by Salem or Monty ✴ He/Him or They/Them Pronouns ✴ 28yrs Old ✴ 6'3" ✴ Former pirate captain ✴ Sexuality is a unlabeled free for all, romance is questioning]&[/abbr]
You'll wind me up, [abbr=Medium Physically ✴ Hard Mentally ✴ Attacks with whip, scimitar or revolver✴ Open to capture and maim if requested / discussed prior ✴ Not open for death ✴ Difficult but not impossible to defeat or subdue]&[/abbr]
Or you'll wind up dead [abbr=Guy Fieri aesthetic ✴ Ear-length dull brown hair ✴ Bright green eyes ✴ Three piercings on both ears (two on top cartilage, one large on lobe), and a lip piercing ✴ Five o'clock shadow 24/7 but can never grow a real beard  ✴ Both pinky fingers cut off]&[/abbr]
(IC Opinions)[/justify]

[CATALYST]

.

.

.

.

//let's pretend this isn't super late shall we

On some level, Cat liked both Addy and Salem. Things were complicated with Addy now after he'd found out about Mourningstar, but they weren't sure that was enough to remove the things they did like about him. Not yet, anyway. That wasn't to say there was no unease or level of dislike, just that the two existed separately.

And Salem... with his whole revenge situation, and generally everything else, they weren't really sure what to make of him, but they thought he might be alright. He might not be, but just about anyone could turn out to be shit underneath a pleasant or even just tolerable facade. Cat prided themself on being able to see past those, though, so they hoped his true colors weren't too nasty.

They rolled their eyes. "Brilliant. A highly respectable way to spend your time." Cat scoffed and shoved their hands into their pockets. "It's Molly's standards, and she's making me wear an unadorned suit. It's tragic." They shook their head; she might end up sticking a flower in their front pocket or something, but they were expressly forbidden from wearing one of their iconic jackets. Particularly the one that said "I OBJECT", not that they would have worn that anyway.

[spoiler=IF YOU DONT KNOW NOW YOU KNOW && INFO && 09/02/19]GENERAL  welcome to the end of eras, ice has melted back to life
⇥ Given name is Scott Mathew Darrow ⇥ Goes only by Catalyst or Cat
⇥ Assigned male at birth ⇥ Agender ⇥ They/Them pronouns only
⇥ Twenty-one ⇥ Born 11/27/17 ⇥ Sagittarius ⇥ Real time aging
⇥ Boss (leader) of the Badlands ⇥ Ex prisoner of the Badlands
⇥ Ex cultist (Mourningstar) ⇥ Ex member of the Young Rogues

RECENT EVENTS  done my time and served my sentence
⇥ 09/02/39 ⇥ Returned from vacation
⇥ 08/23/39 ⇥ Went on vacation with Gavril
⇥ 08/21/39 ⇥ Oversaw their parents' vow renewal
⇥ 08/16/39 ⇥ Witnessed their boyfriend get shot

APPEARANCE  dress me up and watch me die
⇥ Catalyst is 6'2" tall; they possess a lean and muscular body, one that has a variety of old scars adorning it. One of the easiest to notice is one that stretches down their right cheek. While not a scar, one very notable marking on their chest is the "BL" brand. They have two piercings, one in their tongue and the other in the cartilage of their left ear. They typically dress in dark colors (favoring jackets with some sort of writing on the back), and their hair is black. They're not all dark, however, as they have pale blue eyes that peer out from beneath medium-sized eyebrows.

PERSONALITY  if it feels good, tastes good, it must be mine
⇥ Catalyst is ambitious, with the cunning and ruthlessness to reach their goals by any means necessary. They can be brutal when they feel it is needed, however when it's not they won't bother. They tend to be rather aloof and apathetic to most things and people, with some very rare exceptions. Provided those around them don't cross a few specific lines, they're content to leave them be, though they've been known to take an interest in some people, which seldom has a positive end for whoever their interest is in. They can be manipulative, and will often encourage people to make bad decisions. Those that stick by them will be rewarded, but those that do not will be cast out, as they've been outcast for their entire life and have learned to appreciate loyalty wherever they can find it. Even during the most stressful of situations, they usually keep a firm grip on their temper and keep their calm, though when they do snap and lose their temper, it is uncontrollable. They're remarkably observant, often able to deign much from subtle clues in what people say, how they say it and how they act.

RELATIONS  dynasty decapitated, you just might see a ghost tonight
⇥ Molly Darrow x Austin Darrow ⇥ No biological siblings
⇥ Adopted parent of Molly Valentina Darrow-Lupei (Mo)
⇥ Pansexual/Panromantic ⇥ Very much taken ⇥ One Crush
⇥ Not looking but it happened ⇥ Rarely forms romantic attachment
⇥ Holds most people at arms length and doesn't get close

INTERACTION  i'm taking back the c r o w n
⇥ Hard physically ⇥ Hard mentally ⇥ Doesn't let their guard down
⇥ Is most comfortable with close ranged-weapons ⇥ Dislikes guns
⇥ Brass knuckles ⇥ A variety of knives ⇥ Carries a handgun
⇥ Will kill/capture/maim in certain circumstances
⇥ Will leave things be in others ⇥ Will start & finish fights
⇥ No kill/capture/maim without permission
⇥ Attack in bold #0d0d0d and tag @/Bryne
⇥ Peaceful powerplay allowed but they may react negatively
⇥ Dislikes almost any sort of touch unless they initiate or agree to it
[/spoiler]

[capt. salem]

AND CHANCES ARE, THEY WON'T GO FAR | | |

//Warnings: Drinking/Alcohol, implied intimate goings-on but nothing graphic or detailed, fancy metaphors for loneliness and rejection


His breath came quick and heaving, the covers of his bed felt too restricting around his body as he lashed out. Mason let out a yelp as one of Salem's arms slapped him awake accidentally, and the doctor wriggled out of the covers and reached out to grab Salem's hair and yank him up, causing him to flinch but stop struggling momentarily.

"You woke me up, what the fuck're you doing?" Mason snapped, baring his teeth in a grimace at Salem as they both sat in the captain's quarters of Argus II. Dim moonlight shone through the small port windows, and the rocking of the waves underneath was relatively calm.

"I was- ugh, I was having some sort of bad dream." Salem huffed, leaning up so Mason's fingers twisted into his hair hurt a little less. Mason loosened his grip and Salem reached over to wrap his arms around Mason's chest and pulled him closer, the steady breaths of his surgeon quite calming to him.

"I- I was in the Badlands, and I was running around with their leader and hanging out with their people. I think I got banished, or some shit? I don't know why but I felt so angry, like my chest was a cavity dragging me down and it was someone's fault and I wanted to punish them." Salem rambled, pressing his head in the crook of Mason's neck and taking a few seconds to just breath before continuing. "Shire- I was angry with Shire. I dunno why, he's a fine man, but I was so angry I was willing to burn everything around me until I had his head on a pike."

"I don't recall asking." Mason huffed, picking a stray strand of Salem's hair off of one hand before examining his nails. Despite his verbal snappishness, he was content to let Salem drag him around like a ragdoll for now.

"You listened anyways." Salem mumbled as he kept his face pressed to Mason's neck. Some part of him was scared of moving, like if he let go of Mason he'd freefall back into that nightmare. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Well, you're figuring it out." Mason said, his monotone the same but his words sent a jolt through Salem as soon as he processed them. He pulled away to look at Mason, to search for any hint of a joke albeit misplaced, and then he woke up.

---

He woke up in his bed, alone. The mattress was solid and immobile underneath him, and the spot that Sel had been had already gone cold by the time he woke up. Sunlight filtered in through his blinds, indicating the sun had obviously already risen.

He stared at the ceiling and breathed for a few minutes, before getting up and getting dressed. The cavity in his chest hadn't filled, but maybe it'd always been there. Maybe there was nothing wrong with having it there.

A hastily drank glass of whiskey later, Salem headed out onto the streets. He'd picked up a book on living "Off the grid" and one part of it indicated he'd need firewood for the winter, so firewood he'd gather.

He ended up in some abandoned house's backyard, chopping up a dead, fallen tree and throwing the chunks of log into a bag slung around his shoulder. He wasn't too handy with the hatchet he'd picked up, but he'd say his job was serviceable.

If anyone were to find him, they'd notice he looked a bit less lively than usual; perhaps even a bit sickly, and dirtier than usual from the manual labor.

[justify]No, I don't care what momma says, [abbr=Goes by Salem or Monty ✴ He/Him or They/Them Pronouns ✴ 28yrs Old ✴ 6'3" ✴ Former pirate captain ✴ Sexuality is a unlabeled free for all, romance is questioning]&[/abbr]
You'll wind me up, [abbr=Medium Physically ✴ Hard Mentally ✴ Attacks with whip, scimitar or revolver✴ Open to capture and maim if requested / discussed prior ✴ Not open for death ✴ Difficult but not impossible to defeat or subdue]&[/abbr]
Or you'll wind up dead [abbr=Guy Fieri aesthetic ✴ Ear-length dull brown hair ✴ Bright green eyes ✴ Three piercings on both ears (two on top cartilage, one large on lobe), and a lip piercing ✴ Five o'clock shadow 24/7 but can never grow a real beard  ✴ Both pinky fingers cut off]&[/abbr]
(IC Opinions)[/justify]

[CATALYST]

C  A  T  A  L  Y  S  T

[table]