02-18-2021, 08:09 PM
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Sometimes, rebellion was the only thing that could keep a man’s blood pumping through his veins. If he had nothing to stand for, then he’d have nothing to fall for; life was not made for men like Benedict to remain stationary. No, it was made for the rises and the falls only a revolutionary could conduct with such a fiery finesse. In the driver’s seat of his tattered, rusted-over pickup, the engine roared to life before the convoy set off back to their ramshackle homes. One hand on the steering wheel, Benedict twisted the rear view mirror to look back at the vehicle fire disappearing into the distance as they drove away.
❝ You should probably sent that video to Gage. Wait, show me it first. ❞ Like a school boy overjoyed by his latest prank, Benedict was practically beaming with an exuberance — a determination so commanding that he could shake the city around him with the will of those desperate for change. People like Rowan, people like Lisbit and all the men and women that supported every step they’d take to get closer to liberation. Benedict glanced over to peer at the video as the cars scorched along the empty highway, dust being cast into the air. Lips twitched as he rewatched the events, soon humming with amusement before looking back at the road. ❝ God… Better Living are gonna hate us. ❞ He pointed out nonchalantly.
It was exactly what he wanted.
The ride was quiet, Benedict drumming his fingertips on the center console before clicking the radio on. ❝ I love this song. ❞ He commented, soon growing quiet as he wordlessly appreciated the music. ❝ So you feel it? That we’re going to win? ❞ Brows pinched together thoughtfully, watching the road as he listened to Rowan before glancing towards him for a brief moment. ❝ Well, don’t you feel it? ❞ He opened that line of thought, then looking back at the road. Benedict gave himself little opportunity to think otherwise; either they'd dive headfirst into this civil war or they'd arrive halfheartedly to a fight that they'd simply just not win.
His tenacity made him an enemy of the state, but the only hope to its people.
❝ Do you think they’ll still be the same as before once this is all over? ❞ Benedict’s heart sunk at the very thought, features unwavering as he contemplated Rowan’s words. Many people looked up to Benedict for answers, but even Benedict was only a man. Sometimes, things would have to be left unanswered. What would they be like once all of this was over? He wondered what Wells and Dad were doing right now — were they trapped in a nine to five office job with mechanical smiles on their faces? Once this was all over, would Benedict and Lisbit even be able to snap Wells and Dad out of that android-esque trance? Were they even still alive?
These questions nobody truly knew, but Benedict would someday find out for himself. One of these days, he’d get his family back.
❝ I really hope so, Row. ❞ He answered with a short sigh, turning the steering wheel to pull up and park outside where the rebels tended to congregate. But, Benedict wouldn’t hop out of the truck just yet, instead turning off the ignition and leaning back in his seat with slumping shoulders. Head leaned back against the headrest, brows furrowing together until he said, ❝ I wish Wells was here. ❞ The mere thought of Wells trapped within the big city ate at Benedict every waking moment of each day. The way that the Swine detained Wells and whisked him away in the back of a pristine white SWAT vehicle.
Did they beat him for answers? Force feed him the chemicals that they would revolt against? Did they watch the life drain from his eyes as he’d live on as a mindless zombie? Did they even spare him his life, or did they do him for treason?
Benedict clenched his jaw, staring out the window as he watched Lisbit emerge from outside their home, their sweet hound Priam scampering passed her to greet Benedict outside. A look of hope in her eyes. A hope that today’s events would mark a revolutionary change for the history books. ❝ It’s not naive to have hope, you know? ❞ He spoke, tipping his head to the side to look over at Rowan. As if he needed to tell himself the very same thing. ❝ Just shows they’re worth fighting for. ❞
With that, Benedict climbed out of the truck, greeting Priam with a pat on his side before he wandered over towards his mother.
❝ And? ❞ She asked with a raised brow, a proud smile curling at Benedict’s lips before he said, ❝ We did it. ❞ Lisbit started to laugh with joy, then throwing her arms around Benedict’s shoulders. Benedict matched her joy, hugging her back as he rocked her from side to side.
This was worth fighting for.
u rock !
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Sometimes, rebellion was the only thing that could keep a man’s blood pumping through his veins. If he had nothing to stand for, then he’d have nothing to fall for; life was not made for men like Benedict to remain stationary. No, it was made for the rises and the falls only a revolutionary could conduct with such a fiery finesse. In the driver’s seat of his tattered, rusted-over pickup, the engine roared to life before the convoy set off back to their ramshackle homes. One hand on the steering wheel, Benedict twisted the rear view mirror to look back at the vehicle fire disappearing into the distance as they drove away.
❝ You should probably sent that video to Gage. Wait, show me it first. ❞ Like a school boy overjoyed by his latest prank, Benedict was practically beaming with an exuberance — a determination so commanding that he could shake the city around him with the will of those desperate for change. People like Rowan, people like Lisbit and all the men and women that supported every step they’d take to get closer to liberation. Benedict glanced over to peer at the video as the cars scorched along the empty highway, dust being cast into the air. Lips twitched as he rewatched the events, soon humming with amusement before looking back at the road. ❝ God… Better Living are gonna hate us. ❞ He pointed out nonchalantly.
It was exactly what he wanted.
The ride was quiet, Benedict drumming his fingertips on the center console before clicking the radio on. ❝ I love this song. ❞ He commented, soon growing quiet as he wordlessly appreciated the music. ❝ So you feel it? That we’re going to win? ❞ Brows pinched together thoughtfully, watching the road as he listened to Rowan before glancing towards him for a brief moment. ❝ Well, don’t you feel it? ❞ He opened that line of thought, then looking back at the road. Benedict gave himself little opportunity to think otherwise; either they'd dive headfirst into this civil war or they'd arrive halfheartedly to a fight that they'd simply just not win.
His tenacity made him an enemy of the state, but the only hope to its people.
❝ Do you think they’ll still be the same as before once this is all over? ❞ Benedict’s heart sunk at the very thought, features unwavering as he contemplated Rowan’s words. Many people looked up to Benedict for answers, but even Benedict was only a man. Sometimes, things would have to be left unanswered. What would they be like once all of this was over? He wondered what Wells and Dad were doing right now — were they trapped in a nine to five office job with mechanical smiles on their faces? Once this was all over, would Benedict and Lisbit even be able to snap Wells and Dad out of that android-esque trance? Were they even still alive?
These questions nobody truly knew, but Benedict would someday find out for himself. One of these days, he’d get his family back.
❝ I really hope so, Row. ❞ He answered with a short sigh, turning the steering wheel to pull up and park outside where the rebels tended to congregate. But, Benedict wouldn’t hop out of the truck just yet, instead turning off the ignition and leaning back in his seat with slumping shoulders. Head leaned back against the headrest, brows furrowing together until he said, ❝ I wish Wells was here. ❞ The mere thought of Wells trapped within the big city ate at Benedict every waking moment of each day. The way that the Swine detained Wells and whisked him away in the back of a pristine white SWAT vehicle.
Did they beat him for answers? Force feed him the chemicals that they would revolt against? Did they watch the life drain from his eyes as he’d live on as a mindless zombie? Did they even spare him his life, or did they do him for treason?
Benedict clenched his jaw, staring out the window as he watched Lisbit emerge from outside their home, their sweet hound Priam scampering passed her to greet Benedict outside. A look of hope in her eyes. A hope that today’s events would mark a revolutionary change for the history books. ❝ It’s not naive to have hope, you know? ❞ He spoke, tipping his head to the side to look over at Rowan. As if he needed to tell himself the very same thing. ❝ Just shows they’re worth fighting for. ❞
With that, Benedict climbed out of the truck, greeting Priam with a pat on his side before he wandered over towards his mother.
❝ And? ❞ She asked with a raised brow, a proud smile curling at Benedict’s lips before he said, ❝ We did it. ❞ Lisbit started to laugh with joy, then throwing her arms around Benedict’s shoulders. Benedict matched her joy, hugging her back as he rocked her from side to side.
This was worth fighting for.
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I'M BURNING BRIDGES, I DESTROY THE MIRAGE
[div style="width: 400px; font-family: georgia; text-align: center; font-size: 5pt; line-height: 1; letter-spacing: 2.6px; word-spacing: 1.9px; margin-bottom: 5px;"]ALL VISIONS OF COLLISIONS, FUCKING BON VOYAGE — truce.#1303
《 WRITING &. PINTEREST &. SPOTIFY 》
[div style="width: 400px; font-family: georgia; text-align: center; font-size: 5pt; line-height: 1; letter-spacing: 2.6px; word-spacing: 1.9px; margin-bottom: 5px;"]ALL VISIONS OF COLLISIONS, FUCKING BON VOYAGE — truce.#1303
《 WRITING &. PINTEREST &. SPOTIFY 》