[ This man moves with the casual arrogance of someone who believes they’re in full control, that they have nothing to fear and a whole lot to gain by letting the world know just that. Carver’s jaw works, but he doesn’t move. He slows his breathing down deliberately, nice and slow, ready for what comes next. Because something always comes. Another person sets up a show, there’ll be a reckoning at the end. Pageantry, whether it’s conscious or not, always serves a purpose.
It usually comes down to power. And right now, Carver can’t compete. That’s just a simple fact. Like gravity, or the hungry dead. Yet it settles wrong in him, like grit between the teeth. Worrying at his soul. It’s been a long time since anything, anything at all, made him feel less. Not even Maggie cowed him at the end.
No. She was a liar, but she won. She was owed the ending she took, the way God intended. And maybe this is Hell come to teach Carver his lesson, penance for all his myriad failings. Pope’s death and the way Leah screamed at the end are only the latest in a long goddamn line. You deserve this, Pope reminds him. Stand up straight.
That settles something in him. Bleeds some of the tension out. He supposes what happens next is inevitable, then. Some things you just take. And if this is penance, then he’ll take the lesson he’s given and thank God for the privilege of it. ]
What about the hungry dead?
[ It comes out a little distant, less angry than before. Maybe—maybe—a little unfocused. ]
cw: cult shit
It usually comes down to power. And right now, Carver can’t compete. That’s just a simple fact. Like gravity, or the hungry dead. Yet it settles wrong in him, like grit between the teeth. Worrying at his soul. It’s been a long time since anything, anything at all, made him feel less. Not even Maggie cowed him at the end.
No. She was a liar, but she won. She was owed the ending she took, the way God intended. And maybe this is Hell come to teach Carver his lesson, penance for all his myriad failings. Pope’s death and the way Leah screamed at the end are only the latest in a long goddamn line. You deserve this, Pope reminds him. Stand up straight.
That settles something in him. Bleeds some of the tension out. He supposes what happens next is inevitable, then. Some things you just take. And if this is penance, then he’ll take the lesson he’s given and thank God for the privilege of it. ]
What about the hungry dead?
[ It comes out a little distant, less angry than before. Maybe—maybe—a little unfocused. ]