gotta have faith — joining , open .

[truce.]

[align=center][div style="width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 6pt; letter-spacing: 2.5px; word-spacing: 0px; line-height: 12px; color: #000"]tw. mention of dying, near death experiences

Sometimes Silas likened himself to a cockroach; nothing could fucking kill him.

Upon leaving Bluestem Prairie following the arson attack, Silas had excessive time to recover and get back onto his feet, but it was definitely a marathon, not a sprint. Dare he ever admit it, but the best thing that could ever have happened on his travels was the day he came face to face with Catalyst and Gavril. At his lowest of lows, he begged for them to look out for James, take care of him as one of their own, find one of the Overton siblings out there to raise him, anything. Could Silas do it on his own? Certainly not. He could barely look out for himself at the best of times, and he couldn’t imagine how much it killed young James to watch his father scrape through each day following his life-changing near death experience. But to his complete surprise, the couple not only took on James, but Silas too. Without their help, Silas would have surely been a dead man.

Over a year later and Silas was as fit as a flea. Thriving, actually. Sure, the double vision still lingered and the dizziness could sometimes become nauseating, but he was alive which was more than most had bargained for. In his eyes, however, he was hunky-fucking-dory. Rucksack hanging heavy off of his shoulders, Silas trudged towards a city that he recognised clearly as if he’d last visited only recently. But, there ought to have been changes since Cat’s departure. Many of ‘em. But, it was the only place he could realistically travel to; Bluestem brought back too many horrific memories, Northstar was where Mateo was last seen, the last Silas had heard (oh, how his news source was so outdated), and Flintlock was a trek much too high for him to climb. The Badlands would have to do. It’d suit him just fine anyways.

❝ Silas, let me carry your rucksack at least… damn. ❞ A woman trudged just behind him, Silas lifting a pointer finger up with a sharp sigh before exclaiming, ❝ We’re almost there now, Faith! If I needed help, I would’ve asked ya it long ago! ❞ Ah, blah, blah, blah. With pouty lips, Silas listened for any inevitable back talk before whipping his head over his shoulder when he heard nothing from her. His younger sister, trudging alongside James as she already bore the weight of most of their belongings. It had been sheer luck finding Faith again but, when Silas took James to have a look at his family home growing up, Faith remained, like a loyal hound, at the property. Once she came to realise this was only a vessel of what her brother once was, she chose to stay by his side, if not for Silas then for her nephew.

Silas wasn’t really used to people sticking around when things got bad. It was kind of nice, actually.

❝ Whatever you say, He-Man. ❞ Faith grumbled in retort, earning a snicker from James before he uttered to Faith, ❝ He-Man? ❞ James enjoyed her company. See, he’d not met Faith in the ten years of his young life, but she resembled the closest thing to a voice of reason that James had ever come across. He’d certainly not find such a thing in his immoderately volatile father. If anything, Faith had been the saving grace for the father and son duo; without her, Silas would have driven James absolutely mad or driven himself into an early grave, whichever one was worse. But they were here now, the trio stopping at the border as Silas began to grin from ear to ear at the place he’d soon call home.

❝ Ah, ❞ He mumbled, eyes darting across the buildings up ahead, ❝ betcha missed me. ❞ Because he sure as hell missed the feeling of sleeping in a warm bed.

[BEATRICE.]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 7.3pt; color: #333; line-height: 1.9; letter-spacing: 0.5px; word-spading: 5px;"]if he was a cockroach, weren't they all?

okay, maybe not. beatrice was kind of one of the lucky ones thus far. sure, she's been through some mishaps, some trauma. in this world, that much was unavoidable, but for a lot of her life she had something not many people got: a family. somehow, they managed to hunker down, astray from most of the world causing little trouble and alarm. and in turn, beatrice got an overall happy childhood. perhaps she was even so privileged, she had a tendency to belittle the trauma of others— compare their wounds to her scars as if they were even close— as if that would comfort them. sure, her mother's passing was devastating. and she had a few heartbreaks in life, but who didn't? anything that happens from now could possibly be brought upon herself. she'd been somewhere safe, and she left. at least she wasn't alone now, though.

beatrice was attempting here , at least. she wasn't doing her best , living under the morals that theodore stood by all for him. she didn't want to pretend as if she didn't care about the wedge between them. remember the comment made about her bringing tragedy upon herself? well, this one wasn't an exception. when she looked at the man who was her father, she felt so many mixed emotions. happiness , of course. but also the pain that came with having him and losing him so many times over. she still doesn't know what she was expecting to get by finding him. maybe to see if the rumors were true. maybe to show him what his babygirl has become. she'd gotten both of those things, yet she isn't prepared to feel what followed. she knows that regardless of how she feels, she's going to have address them soon. but she was doing a lot of distracting herself for the time being.

beatrice is behind her kiosk, books surrounding her like some kind of fort. those who pass her and don't look hard enough wouldn't be able to see her. probably a bad thing for someone who is trying to avoid facetious children from toppling over the pile every time they pass, but she just is dwelling on the fact that they won't. she sits there , currently devouring the words of a ya-thriller known titled The Hunger Games. so invested, she's surprised she even catches a glimpse of noise , a trio of voices from her far right.

beatrice glances around the mound of books , peering into the sun at the three newcomers. she's been here for going on a month and a half , has familiarized herself with every backside. even if she didn't know names, she knew faces, and these were three she didn't recognize. beatrice closes her book and inspects the pair as they descend closer to her. upon further inspection, she is easily able to recognize their likeness to each other. she couldn't say for sure, but they were probably related.

as they approach , she becomes uncertain about her own authority and ability. sure , anyone can take in newbies, but what if they weren't that? what if they were a danger. there seems to be no one around at the moment , and all she has is a pocket knife. beatrice swallows her uncertainty and pushes the push aside, raising her voice [color=#1F7995]"hi, you're on badlands territory. are you looking for something by chance?" right , she was covered by books. if one didn't inspect hard enough they might think they're crazy. beatrice stands up, making her way around the kiosk, careful not to leave any books toppling over. [size=9pt][color=#1F7995]"i'm right here, sorry. i'm beatrice."