One Man's Monster Is Another Man's Family [p, Wendy]

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  • [color=black][font=georgia]After a spark of experimentation with artificial intelligence and an unnatural growth serum, Dr. Leonard Church had left the planet a wretched place, unsafe for the ordinary person to live. He had gathered together a group of the world's best soldiers only to turn them into the world's most fearsome abominations. However, when a group of these super soldiers decided to rebel, classified experiments got loose, wreaking havoc among the nearby civilians. While the serum worked in controlled settings, it caused unseeable distortions within the unchecked harmed civilians. The remaining super soldiers were brought in, had their memories distorted and were shoved into the world to hide Dr. Church's guilt. Those that escaped were in hiding, knowing that they would be hunted down if they were found out.


    For the civilians tainted by this serum, they grew at rapid paces, often unevenly, giving them a grotesque appearance. Sometimes, their entire bodies would grow to be meters high, overshadowing helpless civilians that would soon become the monster's next meal, as the rapid growth caused an insatiable hunger. The longer they were exposed to the serum's influence, the more unstable their minds would get, causing them to lose any sense of logic, having only one goal, to eat.


    Humans found that the only way to defend themselves was to lock themselves within a well fortified city built by the CEO of Charon Industries, Malcolm Hargrove. However, unease quickly took over the citizens and Hargrove quickly made a military to calm the rising panics. Three regiments were made, the Military Police, those that would live within the highest and most guarded wall guarding the CEO and his allies, the Garrison Regiment, who watched over the walls and acted as everyday police within the city, and lastly, the Scouts Regiment, those brave--or idiotic--enough to head outside the walls to try and destroy these Titans and reclaim the world for humanity.


    Unbeknownst to the populace of the city, there are among them those that can freely change between these grotesque creatures and human forms as they please. These people however, still retain their intelligence and abilities thanks to the careful oversight of Dr. Church during his experiments. However, some, like one David Washington, have no recollection of ever having been morphed into one of these beasts, leaving their abilities severely handicapped. Others still retain all their knowledge and training and make worthy foes that no one knows to look out for, though they were trapped outside of the wall when they were first built. Determined to gain access to the walled in city, four of these super soldiers staged an elaborate ruse to get inside.


    Wash could remember it like it was yesterday. He had been helping Tucker collect firewood for the house. Having been orphaned and made homeless by a spontaneous fire, Tucker's family had offered him a place to stay. They treated him as their own and he felt that he owed them for everything they had given him. However, when a Titan appeared over the rim of the great wall, he knew he'd likely never be able to repay them. He hurried along with Tucker to find their house destroyed in the rubble of the destroyed wall. Tucker's mother had been completely paralyzed by the debris that crushed her legs and back. Wash knew that even if they freed her, they'd never be able to move her fast enough to get away from the quickly approaching Titans. He made a snap decision that still keeps him up at night wondering, "what if;" he grabbed Tucker, heaving him over his shoulder and running away so as to save themselves. He remembered daring a look over his shoulder to see how close the Titan was, just as Tucker let out a grief-stricken yell, only to see their mother getting eaten. It was a moment that replayed in his memory every night, though sometimes it was distorted greatly, a different Titan, a different place, a different person as a snack. Sometimes, he even had nightmares where he himself was the Titan eating his adoptive mother. It's something he never shared with Tucker, not wanting to concern the younger man.


    However, when Tucker demanded that Wash let him join the Cadet Corps, he couldn't blame his fiery passion and even felt it boiling up inside of himself. If he couldn't protect his adoptive parents, he was sure as hell not going to leave Tucker to fend for himself. They enlisted at the same time, being shipped off to training where they began their life as warriors and soldiers. Everything came surprisingly naturally to Wash, but he never thought anything of it. He just figured it was his dedication to a life of serving the city and protecting them from certain death from the Titans.


    He surely stood out among his peers; Tucker may have had heart, but it was placed in the wrong thing. Some of the others as well struck him as more of civilians than soldiers. There was Caboose, the naive boy with mismatched eyes that seemed able at killing, but not at focusing on who he was supposed to kill. He was often found trailing around an angry man that snapped at everything. Half of his vocabulary seemed to be swears, and just the sight of him irked Wash in a way that he couldn't quite place. Wash was certainly not happy when Tucker took an immediate liking to the man. However, he learned to bear with the tensing of his muscles every time he laid eyes on the man. Another cadet that Tucker seemed to like was a girl named Kaikaina who seemed more like she was there to have fun than learn how to kill Titans. She'd likely try for Military Police, he thought. Her brother was a heavier set man that everyone called Grif. He was often getting in trouble for taking extra rations and eating during exercises. A close friend of Grif's was a man named Simmons. Wash had been pleasantly surprised by his apparent competence, but that pleasantness soon faded as he noticed that it was wasted kissing ass. Sarge was usually the recipient of this ass kissing. He looked a lot older than he was, and sounded it too. Wash learned to keep a wide berth of him within the first hour of meeting him. Donut, a man that often hung around Grif, Simmons, and Sarge, but sometimes spent time with Caboose, was definitely an uncomfortable relief to Wash. While most of the words that left Donut's mouth made Wash cringe, he found that he didn't exactly mind the man's company.


    Besides these two intermingling groups, Wash noticed another distinct set of cadets. They were definitely the top of the class, tied with Wash. He would have considered befriending them if one of them, Locus, wasn't as uncomfortable obsessed with him as he was. He had gone to approach the smaller of the four, Felix, as he was definitely the most approachable, when he was stopped by Locus, getting asked about his scars and if he had any nightmares. This incident caused Wash to actively avoid the four men, but he was sure to keep an eye on them, determined to learn more about them. Felix definitely was the most charismatic out of the group, and Wash saw no reason to dislike the man. Cyrus, a taller and skinny man, was the most down to earth. Sure, he had skills that even Wash was impressed with, but his judgement was often clouded by emotions as he was always worrying over his family. The last of the group, a mountain of a man with a scarred face, Sharkface, as Caboose had taken to calling him as they had yet to catch his name, was definitely fueled by anger. Wash made sure that everyone stayed away from him, especially Caboose with his lack of a filter, afraid that the boy would be harmed.


    [color=black][font=georgia]That's how Wash had found himself in a group of almost complete strangers, just watching out for the two he had grown closest too, Tucker and Caboose. He knew that soldiers had a high causality rate and that most of them would die, but he would put his life on the line to make sure that these two survived longer than he did. He couldn't care less if the others were eaten, only that he'd have less soldiers by his side to help him fight.


  • [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid #000000; width: 440px;][justify][size=7pt]Tucker groaned, every bone in his body aching as he rose himself from his bunk like reanimated body from a grave. An accurate metaphor for exactly how he felt. His shirtless chest was covered with countless visible scars and bruises. He ran a hand against his chest briefly before throwing his pants discarded on the ground beside his bed to give himself some decency. Next to Grif, he was the very definition of someone who was not a morning person. But as much as his body hated him for it, he had to get up early for training, and it wasn't even a matter of trying to get Wash off of his case anymore. It was more then obvious how grim things where, and anyone who didn't get their shit together became corpse; and another example for people to keep training. Tucker took out a bag from under his bunk and pulled out an old loaf of bread, using the pocket knife he'd gotten from his family before his house had been completely abolished. He gritted his teeth as he dug into the bread that he could tell had become stale and cut the food into pieces as best as he could. Once he was finished, he slipped over to Wash's bunk to see if he was still there. The chances where unlikely given Wash rarely slept and would be up even earlier for training then Tucker (which where ungodly hours in his option. how could someone who got so little sleep stay so full of energy for training?). "--Wash?" he calls out, stuffing a bit of bread that was way to crunchy for someone to have to consider edible into his mouth.

  • [align=center][font=georgia][b][i][color=black][size=9pt]No trophy, no flowers, no flashbulbs, no wine
    [size=8]He's haunted by something he cannot define
    [hr]
    [font=arial black][color=black][size=8]Almost as soon as Tucker called his name, the blond appeared at the door's opening, a look of light concern on his face before it faded, frowning. He had obviously just been on his morning run, hair heavy with sweat as it beaded down his face, his shirt clinging slightly to his chest in certain spots. He sighed, wiping his face with the dry parts of his shirt before heading over to his bed. "You're actually up and clothed. That's surprising." He muttered, taking a bit of the bread from Tucker and popping it into his mouth. "Everyone else is asleep." He had a habit on checking on the others before and after his morning run, both out of concern for their health and to make sure no one was up to any business. "What's got you up this early? I was worried something might have happened."
    [hr]
    [font=georgia][b][i][color=black][size=8]Bowel-shaking earthquakes of doubt and remorse
    [size=9pt]Assail him, impale him with monster-truck force


  • [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid #000000; width: 440px;][justify][size=7pt]A smirk tugged on the man's lips briefly at Wash's surprised statement, leaning himself against the wall in a mock suave pose. "Is that disappoint I hear?" he chokes before continuing with a shrug of his shoulders. "After the last time I got up without putting my pants on first, I figured I didin't want to get punched in the fucking face this time. Even if it does help me wake up." He dramatically sighs and rests one of his hands against his hip. Of course Wash was out on a morning run. He half wondered if he'd started it around 4 in the morning. Nothing would surprise him with the guy at this point. "I wanted to actually try and get an early start this morning, but it looks like you already beat me to the punch. You going to be up for training?" Despite asking, he had no doubt in his mind he would be. He knew Wash. He pushed himself like he was an unstoppable machine.

  • [align=center][font=georgia][b][i][color=black][size=9pt]No trophy, no flowers, no flashbulbs, no wine
    [size=8]He's haunted by something he cannot define
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    [font=arial black][color=black][size=10]Wash let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he shed his sticky shirt in lieu of a new one. "Now I'm getting really worried." He turned back around, looking Tucker's face over. "Who are you and what have you done with Tucker?" He smirked, heading over to Tucker and holding out a hand. "Do you even realize what time it is? The sun just started rising when I got back. The other cadets won't be up for at least another hour. You sure you want to deal with my training regiment for an hour?" The prick was obviously amused, his smirk said it all.
    [hr]
    [font=georgia][b][i][color=black][size=8]Bowel-shaking earthquakes of doubt and remorse
    [size=9pt]Assail him, impale him with monster-truck force


  • [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid #000000; width: 440px;][justify][size=7pt]Wash's smugness was what pushed Tucker to follow through with this. He'd been debating on going back to bed before he said that. Showing his face this early in the morning was all he really had to do to impress Wash, right? And he wanted another nap before Wash had to drag him out from under the blankets to get his ass to the actual training. But no. Now Wash was pushing his buttons and Tucker was going to prove he could follow through with this. Stupid smug Wash. That grin might be cute, but it was annoying the hell out of him now. "Of course I can!" he snaps defensively. "I wouldn't be awake this early just to eat breakfast.". The blue clad man was already heading for the exit, squinting his dark brown eyes in disgust at the sunlight glaring in from the doorway. It wasn't making a good case for him.

  • [align=center][font=georgia][b][i][color=black][size=9pt]No trophy, no flowers, no flashbulbs, no wine
    [size=8]He's haunted by something he cannot define
    [hr]
    [font=arial black][color=black][size=10]"Yes, you would." Wash rolled his eyes, but followed Tucker nonetheless. "Well, you missed the warm-up run, but knowing you, you'd just complain about your thighs the entire time." He guided Tucker over to west side of the training camp, taking pity upon him and wanting to keep the sun out of his eyes as it rose. "I usually spar with the dummies, but I see no difference in sparing with you."
    [hr]
    [font=georgia][b][i][color=black][size=8]Bowel-shaking earthquakes of doubt and remorse
    [size=9pt]Assail him, impale him with monster-truck force


  • [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid #000000; width: 440px;][justify][size=7pt]Oh great. Sparring. At least it was better then running. Anything was better then running.


    Tucker was disgusted to know so many soldiers in that where obsessed and excited about combat and training. To some of them, all of this was one big game, and he assumed they forced themselves to feel that way in hopes of feeling less scared about their situation. The reality was the Titans where going to kill him and most of the friends he would make, and no amount of fighting them would prevent that inevitable truth. Despite his carefree and joking exterior, Tucker often felt just as cynical as Grif; The only solider he could remotely relate to due to the fact they both didn't give a shit what happened anymore. The only reason Tucker was still trying to fight was he didn't want anyone else to feel the same way. He looked at people like Caboose and saw a lot of himself as a child in their eyes and felt-- Hm. Well what was it he felt exactly? Hope? Tucker felt his stomach twist in knots at these thoughts and turned his attention back to Wash, trying to hide the look of conflict he was feeling that he feared might bubble to the surface. "Maybe I should actually get some clothes on first." he decided out loud with a small huff. "You got any spare uniforms out here?"

  • [align=center][font=georgia][b][i][color=black][size=9pt]No trophy, no flowers, no flashbulbs, no wine
    [size=8]He's haunted by something he cannot define
    [hr]
    [font=arial black][color=black][size=10]Wash raised an eyebrow. "Sure, but I didn't take you for one to get embarrassed." Wash shrugged. Sure, he knew that he could be the shit out of Tucker, but that didn't mean he was going to hold back. He didn't learn anything with training wheels. "Would it make you feel better if I took my shirt off too?" Wash was one of be embarrassed, but Tucker has seen his scars on many occasions. No use getting embarrassed in front of him. "You can't always rely on having the protection of your uniform when fighting. You need to learn to protect yourself no matter what."
    [hr]
    [font=georgia][b][i][color=black][size=8]Bowel-shaking earthquakes of doubt and remorse
    [size=9pt]Assail him, impale him with monster-truck force


  • [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid #000000; width: 440px;][justify][size=7pt]You can't rely on having the protection of your uniform when fighting. Tucker blinked, freezing in his tracks with a slightly surprised look on his face as he stared back at the blonde. They where true words, but they hadn't really sunk in until just now. It was evident the thought hadn't crossed his mind until now. In response he nodded to show Wash he understood and scuffled the earth below his feet. "Alright" he rolls his aching shoulders back. "Let's get started then."

  • [align=center][font=georgia][b][i][color=black][size=9pt]No trophy, no flowers, no flashbulbs, no wine
    [size=8]He's haunted by something he cannot define
    [hr]
    [font=arial black][color=black][size=10]Wash nodded, taking off his shirt and laying it on one of the dummies. "Titans aren't the only enemy we have in life." He took a fighting stance. "Sometimes, other people can be your worse enemies. I can't always be there to protect you." As much as it pained him to say, it was true, and he wanted to make sure that Tucker knew that. "There's no greater weakness than being complacent. Anything could happen at any time." Just to prove his point, he lunged in the middle of his sentence.
    [hr]
    [font=georgia][b][i][color=black][size=8]Bowel-shaking earthquakes of doubt and remorse
    [size=9pt]Assail him, impale him with monster-truck force


  • [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid #000000; width: 440px;][justify][size=7pt]Wash managed to catch Tucker off guard, which made it easy for the blonde to nearly knock him off his feet. Tucker caught himself at the last minute, digging his the heel of his boots into the ground as hard as he could. Any other time, Tucker would have reminded himself this was Wash and his mind would have automatically attempted to go easy on him. He couldn't fight Wash, of all people. But the sudden attack triggered a defensive mechanism in his brain, his body taking control before his brain could process what was going on. With a grunt, he used all of his strength to attempt to knock Wash off of him, lifting his knee quickly to try and knock the wind out of him.

  • [align=center][font=georgia][b][i][color=black][size=9pt]No trophy, no flowers, no flashbulbs, no wine
    [size=8]He's haunted by something he cannot define
    [hr]
    [font=arial black][color=black][size=10]It succeeded in knocking Wash away and the blond smirked at him in response. At least the other boy was listening to all his lessons. Still, though, he wasn't going to go easy. He circled around Tucker, watching him intently with the look of a predator about to pounce on prey.
    [hr]
    [font=georgia][b][i][color=black][size=8]Bowel-shaking earthquakes of doubt and remorse
    [size=9pt]Assail him, impale him with monster-truck force


  • [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid #000000; width: 440px;][justify][size=7pt]This gave Tucker enough time to realize what was going on, his eyes widening slightly as it finally sank in. God, why did Wash have thrown him in such an emotional lesson this early in the morning? Now Tucker was going to be beating himself up for the rest of the day. He clenched his teeth in frustration, calculating every step the blonde took before shoving forward, using his feet to try and knock Wash's legs to the side while a surprisingly forceful hand pushed forward against his chest in hopes of getting the blonde to lose his balance and fall over. Tucker wasn't * around this training session. It was hard for him to channel in and focus when there was a group of other soldiers to distract him, but this was entirely different.

  • [align=center][font=georgia][b][i][color=black][size=9pt]No trophy, no flowers, no flashbulbs, no wine
    [size=8]He's haunted by something he cannot define
    [hr]
    [font=arial black][color=black][size=10]Wash was caught off guard as he was swept off his feet, but seeing as Tucker had all his weight on one foot, he grabbed his hand, kicking out his foot to pull Tucker down with him, aiming to catch him off guard as well. He flipped them over, pinning Tucker to the ground below him. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a wolf whistle behind him. He risked looking over his shoulder to see Felix there smirking and raising an eyebrow. "What ya up to fellas? You should have woke me up, Tuck. You know I like my homoerotic wrestling." Wash rolled his eyes, standing up and holding out a hand to help up Tucker.
    "You did good. That was pretty impressive. You should get up this early more often." He didn't want Felix's teasing to make Tucker want to nip this new habit in the bud.
    [hr]
    [font=georgia][b][i][color=black][size=8]Bowel-shaking earthquakes of doubt and remorse
    [size=9pt]Assail him, impale him with monster-truck force


  • [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid #000000; width: 440px;][justify][size=7pt]Oh no. His cheeks burned up as soon as he heard the whistle. He knew right off the bat who's whistle that was and it was evident Tucker was not happy with this attention from Felix. God, why couldn't the man just leave him alone for once! With a small bit of reluctance, he took his hand just long enough to get up on his feet and quickly hid his hand away from Wash. "Whatever. I did what I had to." the flustered solider muttered under his breath as he tried to avoid his gaze, but a closer look at Tucker would indicate he actually appreciated the compliment. Wash didn't give those out casually, after all. "Just don't expect too much from me later today." he attempts to joke despite the sick feeling in his stomach.

  • [align=center][font=georgia][b][i][color=black][size=9pt]No trophy, no flowers, no flashbulbs, no wine
    [size=8]He's haunted by something he cannot define
    [hr]
    [font=arial black][color=black][size=10]Felix pouted. "Oh. Did I ruin the fun? I'm sorry. Wash always seems to appreciate Donut's flirts, I figured I'd add my own."
    Wash's ears were burning, but other than that, he seemed unfazed by Felix's comments. He seemed more effected by Tucker's, looking away as Tucker brought his hand back like he had been burned. He grabbed his shirt with a bit too much haste, shoving it on. "Do whatever you want. I have more training to do." He didn't seem to have caught the sarcasm in Tucker's voice, heading to the other side of the camp, pulling his hand wraps out of his sweatpants pocket and beginning to wrap his hands on the way.
    Felix tsked. "Tough crowd. Sorry I gave you blue balls, Tuck. You didn't have to stop just for me. I was obviously enjoying it."
    [hr]
    [font=georgia][b][i][color=black][size=8]Bowel-shaking earthquakes of doubt and remorse
    [size=9pt]Assail him, impale him with monster-truck force


  • [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid #000000; width: 440px;][justify][size=7pt]Tucker shot a quick glare at Felix. If looks could kill, Felix would have been dead on the ground seconds flat. "Grow the hell up, man!" he groans in frustration, wanting him to get off his case. This should have been Tucker's shining moment in glory. He never worked this hard or focused long enough to attempt to. For the longest time Wash was the only person in his life that mattered, and ever since he witnessed his mother's horrifying death he promised himself he would never get close to anyone other then him. Then Felix entered his life like a plague. All he had to do was bat his eyes in Tucker's direction and his legs became jello and his face warmer then a scolding furnace. It was as strong as the strength of a million titans, and Tucker was confident that Felix knew he had this power over him. Why the hell else would he be making his life so difficult?


    Tucker turned around and made his way back inside, trying to figure out how he was going to make it up to Wash before the real training started. He could already hear Caboose chatter as soon as he came inside. All of the commotion outside had gotten him excited and he was wide awake. "--And then you knocked him down! You where like a puma! It was so awesome! You're always the bestest at everything, I wanna learn how to beat up Tucker too!" Caboose said to Wash, making it hard for Tucker to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He remained by the entrance of the building and waited, deciding it wasn't the best time to enter the room with them.

  • [align=center][font=georgia][i][color=black][size=9pt]No trophy, no flowers, no flashbulbs, no wine
    [size=8]He's haunted by something he cannot define
    [hr]
    [font=arial black][color=black][size=10]Felix sighed, following after Tucker. [b]"If you're so angry that people are watching, then why were the two of you doing that where everyone could see?"
    He gently grabbed Tucker's arm. "You're never up this early. When I heard you and Wash leaving, I was afraid he was going to murder you or something. What convinced you to get out of bed and skip breakfast?"


    Wash's frown fell as soon as he heard Caboose, all the animosity seeming to fade away at once. He looked up to see him, offering him a small smile. "I don't think I have to teach you anything. You'd beat Tucker in a fight any day." He started heading to the mess hall, figuring Caboose was going to follow him no matter where he went. "Have you gotten any breakfast yet? It's the most important meal of the day." Practice what you preach, Wash.
    [hr]
    [font=georgia][b][i][color=black][size=8]Bowel-shaking earthquakes of doubt and remorse
    [size=9pt]Assail him, impale him with monster-truck force


  • [fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid #000000; width: 440px;][justify][size=7pt]Tucker tensed up at the contact, but his feet refused to budge. Looked like he was going to have to give him an answer. "... I don't know. I guess I just was in the mood to get shit done today." he answers, though its not the most honest answer. The other night had been incredibly brutal. Most days Tucker shut out the building fear inside him, but after overhearing Sarge share horribly detailed story about a gruesome death, it all sort of clicked in hs mind. It felt like everyone was coming close to the end of their training, and that meant they'd be out there fighting them. He'd rather let the Titans get him before he could be forced to witness anyone he'd gotten to know here be killed. Knowing he couldn't do anything to stop it. It was embarrassing he was overthinking everything and he wasn't ready for a lecture from anyone about it. But instead, Wash managed to make him feel even more anxious about it. I can't always be there to protect you. The words wouldn't leave his head.


    A small gasp of excitement escaped his lips as they parted. "Oh! Are you gonna eat breakfast with us today?" Caboose sounded excited about this. Wash wasn't typically there to sit at the table for meals, and he didn't enjoy it all that much with just Tucker there. Before the blonde could reply to his question, he was already climbing onto the closest chair and sitting in it in the most ridiculous fashion.