Voicemail

Feb. 2nd, 2036 10:36 pm
brother_alone: (Happy)
What's up home boys and girls?

This is the one and only Josh Washington's phone, and if you have the pleasure of hearing this then I am too busy to chat at the moment. Leave me a message or shoot me a text and I'll catch you on the flip side!


*Static, before the line drops*
brother_alone: (Bang Bang)
Winter and Joshua have a troubled relationship.

Crisp, cold air pricks the skin and practically invites busting out the flannel shirts and beanies. Year's end stands tall as a milestone, proof of another year he's made it. These are powerful things that Joshua loves about the season. They bring back so many fond memories of both family and friends. Of Christmases past and parties up at the family lodge on Blackwood Mountain.

The quiet that eats every other noise, devouring nature's sound until all that's left is a howling wind and your own thoughts is less agreeable. Josh's inner voices are too loud already and the quiet of winter does not help. For all the fond memories the season conjures it will be marred forever by the February two years ago when his sisters ran into the night of Blackwood Mountain and never returned. Every whisper of the wind could be Beth or Hannah's voice, asking why their big brother didn't save them.

There's a new terror that comes.

Shorter days mean longer nights, and night is when the Wendigo have power. Hunt. Feed. Hannah, little Hannah, had been one of them. The longer it takes for dawn to come gives the Wendigo more time to search, to hunt, to find people. Josh will never forget the milky eyes, gaunt misshapen horror of what was once a human body with its needle like teeth and razor sharp claws.

So of course it's past dusk when the first snow of the season comes down in the Nexus. Would it be wiser to hide away in bed with the covers drawn and drink until he blacked out? Like he'd done the night Beth And Hannah had--no. Joshua rolls down the sleeves of his flannel and zips up the puffy winter vest he likes to wear. It swishes in a high pitch whenever his sleeves brush against it while he digs out his thickest beanie and tugs it over his head. With hands in the pockets of his vest, Joshua walks outside and stares up at the snow.

It's the big wet flakes that are always on postcards. The couple of inches already on the ground are doing their job of eating up the sound all around him. He has never felt so alone as he is standing outside his front door staring up at the snow falling. It's crippling in its silent isolation that chokes the life from Joshua. Perhaps he cries. Perhaps it's just the snow melting against his face. But he stays out there for as long as he can stand it, green eyes watching the snow fall. Penance for not going after his sisters.

And hope, perhaps, that in this world between worlds he may hear their voices for real one day on the winter winds. Instead of only in his head.
brother_alone: (Listening)
Josh is making a real effort to try and get his life in order.

He's leaving his shanty more and more often, clean cut and wearing fresh clothes rather than the grimy tattered mess he'd arrived in months before. A few odd jobs around the Nexus have allowed him that much at least. They never last too long though. Partially because they're just that: odd jobs. But also, because one Bad Day or episode is all it takes to get him let go.

It's discouraging because Josh is trying so hard.

Not for himself, really. There's enough self loathing within him to bury him several times over. He hates himself. Hates what he's done. What he is. What he sees. But there are people he cares about, people who see something else that Josh doesn't.

People like Chris, like Dia. And like Han.

So when Josh's phone buzzes, he assumes it's one of the only people in this place who gives a shit about him, or the newest place he works at occasionally with some hours for him. He isn't wrong. Han wants to know if Josh is up for fixing up that rust heap he'd picked up a few weeks back. The memory makes Joshua smile as he unlocks his phone to reply.

Sure thing. Meet at your ship I'm assuming?

He doesn't wait for a reply when he leaves his shack. Josh figures he has plenty of time to change direction if need be. It's not half bad outside today anyway, and the walk will do him some good.
brother_alone: (Passed Out)
It doesn't take much of an excuse anymore.

Used to be the only times he'd really go nuts would be when there was a party to be had for a birthday, a holiday, or Spring Break. And then always in a social setting.

Then he started his medications. And started hiding said medications from everyone. He still partied, but there was always more at stake. Mixing his meds with alcohol was a really bad idea. Josh is lucky he's still alive. But he keeps pushing that luck.

Then the Incident happened. If Josh hadn't had a problem before, he certainly did now. The only time he was happy was when he was trashed beyond rational thought. Beyond care or worry. He drank on his own more and more often. Dropped out of school.

And now?

Here in the Nexus, on what is an Earth tradition?

Joshua Washington is passed out at a bar somewhere, several green bead necklaces around his neck with an empty bottle still clutched weakly in one hand.

It's not even that wild for him, not anymore.

Thoughts

Mar. 6th, 2016 04:16 pm
brother_alone: (Beat)
I woke up with a throbbing headache today nearly frozen to death.

Hypothermia is a bitch.

I don't remember being out at the Plaza. Don't know how I wound up knocked out in the snow. But I can see the signs. Cuts on the back of my hands. Another episode.

I don't want to die like that.

Make it stop.

Please.

Surviving

Feb. 21st, 2016 11:08 am
brother_alone: (Back)
It's barely more than four walls and a prayer, but it's home now. No running water or electricity, just a fireplace and a tarp taped over what used to be a busted out window.

Winter hurts, but it also helps. Any food can be stored in the snow banks outside.

The important thing is, Joshua is surviving.

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brother_alone: (Default)
Josh Washington

December 2016

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