bloodstripes ii.

[south]

[align=center]    [div style="width:385px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"]FAUSTUS MONTGOMERY ⋆⋆⋆ brother, father, husband. faustus is a man of great dedication and patience, a true family man at heart. the protector and the defender, his broad shoulders carry great weight. brown leather jackets, faded green flannels, rough hands, scarred skin. faustus // fallen guardian angel.

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FULL NAME: faustus atticus montgomery
PHYSCIAL AGE: thirty six years old
RELATIONS: brother to josiah montgomery [alive] // father to wren montgomery [deceased] // husband to kofi [believed to be deceased]

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PERSONALITY TRAITS: hard on others, high expectations, strict, logical, level headed, protective, valiant, upfront, honest, selfless, strict, often standoffish, paternal
CHARACTER FLAWS: represses his emotions often, too often relies on logic over emotion, holds grudges for too long, often stuck in the past
HISTORY: son to a kindly mother and a very strict dad, faustus grew up in a fairly balanced household alongside his younger brother, josiah. the two brothers were close and faustus did his best to look out for jo throughout the years. their family was tight knit and truly a happy, homely family. tragedy soon undid this one night when two bugulars broke into their home in the dead of night. what should have been a simple robbery turned into a bloody crime scene after faustus’ dad attempted to defend his household. at the time, faustus was 19 and living on his own. upon getting the call, faustus gained custody of his little brother due to the circumstances. short on money and searching for a sense of family after losing their own, the brothers got involved with a gang. the gang’s founder, brock, was fairly close with faustus, and the two worked hard to collect their dues. it was this time that faustus became the sharpshooter he is today- often perched upon rooftops to take out any threats during raids. one night, when faustus was away from the gang for the day, the gang got into a shootout, and josiah was shot and injured. rather than helping the youth, brock turned and left him for dead, only to tell faustus that the boy had died due to his injuries. faustus was suspicious of this, brock having had a habit of twisting the truth to his advantage, and eventually, the two got into a fistfight, leading to faustus being thrown out of the gang. after the chaos of his brother’s alleged death and his exile, faustus strived for a quiet life. he moved to a neighboring city, got himself a place and a stable job. eventually, he met his husband and the two fell in love. after marrying and getting a house together, they adopted a baby girl named wren.

[b]> NOTE // WIP

[south]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"]Lorem Ipsum is simply dummy text of the printing and typesetting industry. Lorem Ipsum has been the industry's standard dummy text ever since the 1500s, when an unknown printer took a galley of type and scrambled it to make a type specimen book. It has survived not only five centuries, but also the leap into electronic typesetting, remaining essentially unchanged. It was popularised in the 1960s with the release of Letraset sheets containing Lorem Ipsum passages, and more recently with desktop publishing software like Aldus PageMaker including versions of Lorem Ipsum.

// testing <3 here is Dad

[south]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"]TNW CHARACTERS:
- faustus montgomery > los santos [ active ]
- cane && marley dogson > asphodel [ active ]

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- kiyoko akagi > los santos [ in development ]

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- wolfsbane forester > los santos [ inactive ]

[mochaccino]

[align=center][div style="width: 530px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: .3px; line-height: 1.3; padding: 4px;"]i love dad

[shizuknya]

/grabs faustus
thanks i love him

[south]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"]we all love Dad sm :’) ty ty

khejs bee u better get back here w him
we ALL need a healthy father figure not jus u isjwkwk

[shizuknya]

nope i’m snatching him bye

[aureate]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: calibri; font-size: 9.2pt; line-height: 1.4;"]very small track!

[finny.]

late track

[south]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"]THE STARVING WOLF — tw: gore, mentions of death/kidnapping

The streets howl in the chilly autumn night, a breeze sweeping through the rotting cityscape. It’s pure darkness since the blackout hit, and the only sounds to be heard are of the distant screams of strangers in the streets. Violence in the cities have peaked with the riot, most of them abandoned, leaving only scavengers and troublemakers in the wake. The streets are filthy and clogged with abandoned vehicles, and the buildings empty and ransacked. It’s a quiet night for the city- at least, until Faustus enters it.

Quick footsteps echo through the narrow alleyway as a large man sprints through the corridors. His breaths are short and rhythmic, and he maintains a swift pace. The figure moves throughout the city quickly and quietly, darting through alleys and remaining in the shadows. He does not wish to be seen; does not wish to become prey to his own.

It’s been just over a year since the blackout. It’s been two since he lost his family. Two years since he told his husband and daughter that he loved them for the last time. Two years since he came home from work one day to find them both missing. Blood stains left on the living room floor, splatters on their couch, and the back door busted. It didn’t take him long to figure out who had taken his family, but finding and pursuing them was a different story.

He pushes the door open to the towering glass building, rifle in his roughened hands. His steps are quiet and slow as he enters the building, careful to avoid being heard. Faustus knows he’s here- knows he’s a sitting duck. Knows that by entering this building, he has sealed his fate in the likely possibility of his own death. But it doesn’t matter if he can or can’t survive this- it’s a matter of having to. This was bigger than him- bigger than the man he was about to kill. Faustus had to have answers. Had to know where Kofi and Wren were. Had to be able to piece it all together finally.

It had been almost a decade since Faustus had joined that godforsaken gang. Since he had fucked with people who should not have been fucked with. Since Faustus had become a branded man with a target upon his head. Now, he paid the price. His family was to be some form of bait for the man, but the breadtrail back to their captors was muddled and stale since the blackout hit. Now, they had every reason to forget Faustus and kill his family, unless they already had.

He ascends the third flight of stairs at a slow pace, eyes narrowed and focused, every muscle in his body tense. He knows where his prey is, knows he’s waiting for him. It’s only a matter of time now, and Faustus has been waiting for two years. The wolf is starved and angry. His actions are deliberate and cautious. There will be no mistakes tonight; he is well aware only one of them will walk away by the end of the night. It has to be him.

They visit him in dreams. Kofi’s head of curls and bright eyes, his hearty laugh filling the room and his smile radiating. He is the sun, and Faustus thrives in his light. His skin is warm to the touch and soft, and Faustus knows every inch of it. They spent nights together in bed or with Wren. Her messy freckles and her striped leggings, toothy smile often stained red by her favorite strawberry popsicles. She calls for Faustus to push her on the swing, or begs him to read another bed time story with Kofi. All he gets now are snippets of this, blurry and fading as time wears on.

Now, his crosshairs land on the man’s head. Steady and accurate, he can take the shot now and kill him. But that’s not good enough- that’s not enough. The scope lowers to the man’s kneecap, and without further hesitation, Faustus pulls the trigger. Always the sharpshooter; the man falls abruptly to the hardwood floor, a scream bounces off the walls, pistol clattering to the ground, and he clutches his leg, breath uneven and sharp. Faustus rises from his kneeling stance, and approaches his victim; the wolf stands over his prey.

”I’ve been waiting for this moment for two years,” His rough voice begins as he sets the rifle upon the glass conference room table. He takes his time to remove his ballcap and the pollution mask from his face. ”Two years of tracking you and your associates down,” He rolls his neck, easing the tense muscles in his shoulders. Suddenly, he chuckles. ”You’re a hard man to find.”

He turns to the fallen man, shaking and wheezing, pitiful and fading. Faustus smiles. He takes hold of a chair at the table and slowly drags it across the floor behind him as he approaches his prey, twirling the chair around and sitting upon it. He exhales loudly before analyzing the other. ”You’re the man who kidnapped my husband and nine year old daughter,” Faustus states, gaze flickering over the wheezing man. The other shakes his head violently, parting his wet lips, ”I was just taking or-“ ”Shut up,” Faustus thunders suddenly, stomping his boot upon the floor beside the man’s injured knee. ”Don’t fucking speak unless I ask you to.” His gaze is hard, and his words harder.

”You don’t think I know you’re just a pawn?” His lips slowly curl into a grin as he cocks his head ominously. ”Look at yourself... wheezing, drooling on the floor, begging for mercy. I sure as Hell hope you’re not the man who made those orders.” He spat. ”You’re no big boss. You’re not shit.” He spits upon the man, reiterating his point. Faustus is silent a moment before he stands from his chair, moving back to the glass table. He begins to extract his hand knives from his tactical belt, setting them one by one on the table.

The fallen man seizes his chance, reaching for the handgun he had dropped earlier, just out of reach. But his fate is already sealed. Faustus’ boot comes slamming down upon the man’s wrist, and a gruesome cracking erupts from the injury. The man howls in pain again as Faustus kneels to pick up the pistol, tutting condescendingly. ”Oh, little hare, why do you continue to fight?” He murmurs thoughtfully, holstering the man’s weapon. ”You’re making me angry.” He holds a knife in his other hand, and slowly kneels beside the man.

”We’re going to play a game.” The blade glimmers in the moonlight. ”I ask you a question, you answer...“ His gaze flickers to meet the man’s, ”Truthfully.” He lifts the knife to the man’s chest, trailing the tip of the blade across his torso lazily. ”You don’t follow the rules, and I kill you,” He suddenly digs the knife into the man’s chest, just enough to break the skin. ”Understand?” The man nods quickly, wincing under the weapon.

The building is dead quiet, and the moonlight illuminates the room just enough. The city has gone quiet, except for the wolf and his prey. ”Where are they?” He pries, tracing the blade over the man’s stomach. ”St. Johns- Georgia.” The knife presses into his gut. ”In a warehouse! In a warehouse! I don’t know which one- I only work here, I swear!” Faustus eases the pressure off the man’s stomach, satisfied. ”Who gave the orders?” ”Collins. Richard Collins.” Faustus seems pleased. ”Good boy.” He smiles eerily.

”Last one...” He pauses, gaze flickering between both of the man’s eyes. ”Did you drag her out of bed? Did you cover her mouth so she wouldn’t scream? Did you carve her skin to make your point?”

The man suddenly freezes up, and he shakes his head slowly. ”I-I was just tak-“ ”Taking orders?” Faustus finishes for him, brows knitting together at the repetition of the man’s words. ”Wrong answer.” He suddenly digs the knife into the man’s stomach, pushing past flesh and muscle, deep into the man’s body, holding the knife steady as the man chokes and writhes under him. He shoves the handle further up, ripping his skin further upwards, dragging the blade through his abdomen. The man gurgles, blood spilling from his lips. Faustus slowly twists the knife in his hands, the sound of ripping flesh and snapping strings in tune with the man’s screams. He extracts the knife slowly, staring at the man’s face as he coughs up more blood, too weak to move. But Faustus isn’t done. The man moves to continue his carving, turning his attention to his face instead.

The man’s screams can be heard throughout the city as Faustus exacts his revenge, echoing through the empty streets and alleyways. The night is no longer quiet, and the streets now howl with a different source.

The wolf is pleased, for he will eat tonight.