𝙴𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙴 𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙻𝙴𝚁 ☆

⠀⠀⠀ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐔𝐒 ; ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀𝙴𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙴 𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙻𝙴𝚁 ༄

Ellie watched him for a second, that quiet guilt sitting heavy on his face. She stepped closer, resting a hand lightly on the edge of the table near the radio. ❝we’ll be safe, we won’t be alone out there.❞ Her voice stayed steady, even if her fingers curled a little against the wood. ❝and this..❞ she tapped the radio once, then slid it toward him ❝is so you can hear us. So you know what’s happening. We check in, you check in. So you aren’t just sittin’ here wondering.❞

Ellie knocked once, then pushed @godstx’s door open and stepped inside, pack slung over her back. ❝we’re leavin’ soon. figured I’d come by first.❞ carefully taking the bag from her back and setting it down onto the kitchen table. ❝I know if things were different you would have been the first person heading out there for Tommy… but..❞ Ellie unzips the bag and pulls out a radio before placing it onto the table. ❝ I’ve got the next best thing.❞ the next thing to come out of her bag was a bag of coffee beans.

Ellie hits the ground hard when the pipe takes her legs out, a sharp grunt forced out of her as pain flares through her sides and arms. though she is only down for a couple of seconds. one of his people steps in a little too close, she palms her switchblade.. the blade snaps open and she drives it upward into the side of the man’s neck, hard and deep. His warm blood spills over her fingers as he staggers back, choking. she uses the momentum to shove herself upright again, still gripping the bloody knife, her chest heaving. her legs shake but hold and she takes the steel pole with her free hand from the bleeding one had in his hands. dark eyes focusing onto Saint John. ❝ fuck you, you’re gonna regret every stepping foot in here.❞

She doesn’t hesitate, the moment his hand guides the barrel to his shoulder, her finger takes up the slack and the pistol goes off once, short and sharp. the single round punching through muscle and the sharp smell of powder fills the narrow space, the barrel stays trained on him. ❝ Start fucking talking. ❞ she says, her voice low and even. ❝ exactly.. why, why you so interested in Tommy? I would think and choose your next words very carefully or the next one goes somewhere that doesn’t come with a second chance.❞

she draws without the earlier hesitation.. her pistol clears the holster in one short, practiced motion and comes up level with his chest, both hands on it now, elbows tucked. the barrel of her gun doesn’t waver. a flick of her finger releases the safety but the rest of her stance has locked in. ❝if you had nothing to hide you would have no problem answering a couple of straight forward questions about ‘old friends’ instead you dance around the subject like a cat teasing its prey.❞ she emphases on the old friends part because she doesn’t believe a single word that comes out of this guys mouth. his whole aura screams creepy murderer.

Ellie’s eyes narrow just slightly… Tommys name lands between them and she doesn’t flinch, but the line of her shoulders goes rigid under her jacket. ❝Tommy?❞ She says it quiet, almost under her breath, testing how it feels out loud in front of him. Her thumb stays hooked near the holster, not drawing, not relaxing. She watches the corner of his mouth the almost-smile he doesn’t quite let through. it’s alarming but she’s keeping her stance steady. ❝You’re saying you know Tommy. That you were old friends?❞ A short, humorless breath leaves her while she takes half a step back, just enough to keep the space she wants, boots shifting in the dirt without ever turning her body away from him. ❝Joel never mentioned anyone like you. And I know Tommy and he’s not the type to keep quiet about people he actually trusts. So either you’re lying, or you’re the kind of ‘friend’ he wouldn’t want me talking to. Or.. you were just some nobody he ran into once.❞ Her voice stays low and even, but there’s a sharper edge under it now.

Ellie’s jaw tightens. She doesn’t relax her stance boots still planted, hand still resting on the holster—but her head tilts just slightly as she studies him. ❝You said you don’t give a shit about the immunity, you don’t care about the Fireflies either.❞ Her voice stays quiet, almost flat, but there’s a harder edge under it now. watching the way his hands stay behind his back, the way his eyes don’t leave hers. ❝So if none of that matters to you… then why the hell were you looking for Joel?❞ She takes one slow step closer, just enough that the distance between them shrinks.. fingers flex once against the grip of the gun. ❝People don’t go chasing after him for nothing. Not anymore. So what is it? What did you actually want from him back then?❞

Ellie doesn’t shift her weight or drop her hand from the holster. She tracks him as he circles, boots planted, shoulders squared so he can’t slip past without brushing her. ❝You followed Joel? well you wouldn’t be the first one. Aren’t you lucky you gave up on that. Because if you even thought about coming after him then I would HAVE to kill you.❞ Her voice stays low and flat, no rise in it. She watches his hands, his stance, the way his eyes keep moving over her like he’s measuring distance. ❝ hadn’t you heard about the little girl he was travelling across the county with?❞

Ellie steps into his path, blocking him, hand resting near her holster. Her stare stays flat. ❝ Ellie Miller.❞ A short pause with a facade of a smile before it falls. ❝ I may look like an angry little girl to you. Doesn’t change that I’ve put down more people than you’ve got fingers left to pick at.❞ Of course she’s noticed every detail, his behaviour the way he moves.. ❝And I am just waiting.. waiting for you to make just one wrong move before you go in the ground with the rest of your fucking cult asshole.❞

she doesn’t blink while her stare stays flat and cold as she takes half a step closer, voice low and even. ❝ Yeah. I do judge people with scars on their face from a fucking cult. ❞ she tilts her head slightly, the way he did, eyes locked on his. ❝ Those aren’t just ‘old group’ scars. I’ve seen that kind before. And when people wearing them show up here in Jackson talking about cutting tongues out and offering ‘sanctuary,’ I don’t give them the benefit of the doubt. You don’t get to act like you are reasonable ones because frankly I don’t believe a damn word that comes out of your fucking mouth. ❞ She stays planted on her feet, hand resting near her holster, making it clear she was not going to stand down.

Ellie met the practiced smile with a flat stare, head cocked just enough to make it pointed. ❝ You can help by not being here.❞ she said, calm but sharp. ❝ You threatened to cut my tongue out for asking about you and your group. Now I’m asking you to leave Jackson before you give me an excuse to kill you all. I’m watching all of you. One wrong move.. Clear? ❞ She let the silence sit for a beat, eyes flicking over him like she was already cataloging the rest of him. ❝ And don’t think I haven’t noticed some of your people are carrying scars on their faces. ❞ She didn’t wait for an answer, just stayed planted, making it obvious she wasn’t done keeping an eye on him.

//. Fourth wing rp verse… where?🥺