AZRAEL'S WING {Intro}

AZRAEL'S WING {Intro}

Obligatory Trigger Warnings: Blood, Gore, Horror, Body Horror. Semi-Inaccurate Medical Information. Murder. Suicide. Cannibalism. Violence. Loss/Grief. PTSD/Trauma. Food Insecurity. Emotional Distress. Mental Health Struggles. Social Isolation. Political Oppression. Attempted Genocide. Disruption of Normalcy. Child Labor. I mean, the list can go on, this is what I imagine would happen if the government basically turned against it's citizens and tried to kill them all, but failed and now people are trapped due to rampant viruses and disease.

If any of the above makes you even slightly uncomfortable, then this series is NOT for you. This is a DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. For that reason, if you're a minor, please do not read this series. THIS IS PURELY FICTION, ANY LIKENESS TO ANY REAL WORLD EVENTS IS ACCIDENTAL.

Linked below is a document purely made for this Tumblr series. It's for people to be able to go back and reference it, and learn a little about the world the characters have found themselves in. This is all original lore I have written for a novel I have scrapped, so I hope you all enjoy.

Google Docs

AZRAEL'S WING INFO DOC FOR TUMBLR

Life flickers across the screen, a young man is sitting in a room with three men sleeping behind him. His hair is shaggy, and a dark charcoal color. His eyes, unlike his appearance, are bright and filled with the smallest spark of hope. The boy couldn't have been more than 19. His green eyes look over the camera he was using for the recording, his hands are held out, soft palms turned calloused, as if it was to catch the camera if it fell. "Okay, I think... I think it's working." He sighs, and sits backwards slowly, putting his hands in his lap as he looks at the camera, his eyes glazing over in thought. This was obviously poorly planned. "I am Hesh Walker, and I am apart of the Seraphims of Xalar. This is a video to the world. We're alive. The government, they turned against us. They're denying us food, water, shelter, medicine... the list can go on." Hesh takes a deep breath, breath hitching on a choked sob. The video gets cut as he reaches forwards, frantically grabbing the camera. The next video, is a video of a forest. Hesh sitting on a stump of a chopped tree as he looks into the camera. "Okay, take two. I am David Walker, son of Elias Walker, the Scarecrow." He seems more confident, takes a slower inhale than before. "I am a leader within a group of survivors of the Collapse. We're being led by a man by the name of Ghost." He lets out a soft laughter. "Ironic, really..." He mutters under his breath. "We are a group of survivors well within the hundreds. We have women, men and children. We require immediate extraction. The government has turned their backs against their people." Hesh looks down, wringing his hands in a subtle display of discomfort and even nervousness. "I don't want to die here." The final video, is a masked man with Hesh's eyes looking at the camera. He's sitting at a table in front of a window, the sun must have been setting, because it was getting darker outside, but the sky was still holding on a semblance of light. Dark storm clouds were in the distance, as the man sat in the chair. His emotions were unreadable from the mask, but the way his arm laid haphazardly on the table, his legs spread in a way to take up too much space, the man was more than comfortable where he was. With who he was. Smoke bellows out from the mask. He must have taken a drag of a cigarette before this. "This is Michael, a Seraphim Leader of Xalar." The man starts, leaning forwards, his arms coming to rest on his knees, hands clasped together. "This is a message to the world. The United States have fallen. Dust and rubble is what remains. Xalar, is all what remains on the East Coast. We have set up a farm, and partially rebuilt an entire city while you all have done nothing. You all watched the lights go out and the people go silent, and have not even bothered to send any sort of transmission to ask what has happened." The man scoffs incredulously, shaking his head in what seems to be disbelieving anger. "Some of the very best PMC and military personnel have been trapped in this special slice of hell, waiting for someone to come extract us and the civilians we have been protecting. It has become clear to us that the rest of you will not be coming for us." The man leans forwards, his eyes narrowing, voice dropping to a dangerous tone full of promise. "So when we rise from the ashes, don't bother asking help from us. This is my official resignation from the Special Operatives team called The Ghosts. Michael, over and out."

'Hello!' ❤

Tysm!! I am in the process of getting diagnosed with juvenile/early-onset RA and these are roughly what I experience, and what my family members with RA experience. I think it wouldn't be too out of the ordinary for him to develop arthritis and not even realize because, lets be honest, the vast majority of people don't know much about RA other than joints go ouchie

Simon has scars, Simon has trauma-- Okay so imagine this.

Trauma often causes your body to break down not just mentally, but physically. Often, in the most extreme cases of trauma, your brain gets rewired to think/act/and distribute electro signals a certain way. Childhood trauma has been studied so intensively, that doctors have determined it can also suppress vital bodily functions, like digestion or even your immune system, possibly causing autoimmune disorders.

Me, I'm 21, with a couple of different disabilities from my trauma, so I'm drawing from experience.

What if, and hear me out, Simon starts, gradually over the next couple of years, getting some weird joint pains. Just, like it feels achey, and not quite right. Like he was down with a cold. It comes and goes, and he's not entirely sure when it started. He's always sort of had joint pains, I mean, look at his job? It's not only incredibly intense, and taxing physically AND emotionally, but he constantly is over working his joints. So, he thinks nothing of it.

Except, over the next few months it doesn't go away like he thinks. Oh well, right? He goes to the med bay, they check his symptoms, they check everything, and just simply find nothing. They have no reason to do blood work, or x-rays. He's not injured, and it doesn't sound like he's pulled anything or snapped any tendon. They tell him if it persists, to come back in. They give him Ibuprofen, Acetaminophen, and a N-SAID to trade off between the three, and help with any swelling or discomfort. All Simon's symptom points to, is the over work of the joints. I mean, hell, he's been in the SAS for years now, with about a decade or two of more service on top of that. He's considered old by the SAS, almost at the stage where they'd pull him off the field if he even sprains an ankle. So, he doesn't think anything of it, and refuses to go to med bay.

Without failure, the symptoms just sort of pile up gradually over the next four years. The joint pain is accompanied by stiffness and swelling. The joints, primarily in all his finger joints, wrists, and knees hurt, are red, and hot to the touch. His left hip is starting to get painful enough that he has to stretch and stay in his room for the first hour-and a half when he wakes. Otherwise, he'd be seen hobbling down the hall and that isn't good. He'd surely be sent to med bay.

So, Simon deals with it. Until one night, he's on a mission, and his joint stiffness catches up to him. Johnny has to help move him when they get under fire, and his hands and fingers hurt so bad he can't properly grab the gun and fire it. It takes him a few minutes, but he eventually returns fire. Johnny having seen the struggle, reports it to Price, who almost immediately sends him to med bay to get almost every fucking test done under the book.

"Obviously it's not just joint pain and stiffness of age anymore, Simon. I need you to be 100% out on the field. If not for you, then for Johnny. For the team."

Simon thinks it was pretty shitty of Price to use Johnny and the team against him, but it does the trick. He gets there, and spills almost everything to the doctor he saw last time. The doctor is shocked and appalled Simon never told him anything, and Simon tells him the medicine worked at first, as did the braces that he recommended for the joint support, but it just kept getting worse.

They do X-Rays, and blood work, and they find out Simon has a fairly common autoimmune disorder. Although, it's not the kind he wants to hear because it will result in a medical discharge.

"Rheumatoid Arthritis? You're bloody joking. My hand isn't all fucked up and weird looking doc. I can move my hand just fine."

"You can right now, but if you don't get the proper treatment, along with a transfusion for your knee... it will progress. Probably to the point you're bed bound."

The doctor calls in the team on behalf of Simon's request, and well, they try to find a way around it. At least, Gaz and Soap do. But before they exhaust all their options, Price offers to talk to the higher ups to see what the stance would be on moving Simon from an operator, to more of a coordinator like Kate. Where he would be able to do missions every one in a while, but not over exert himself to the point a flare-up is triggered and he is left in a dangerous position once again. The higher-ups agree, not wanting to lose the infamous Ghost.

So, there we go. :) That's my little tid-bit, take it as you want. And like always, if you enjoy the idea, please like/reblog, and if you want to build off the idea for your own AU or things, just tag me if you use specifics!! ((If you have any questions about RA, please drop them in my box and I will try to answer when I have the time!!))

Gunslinger!Gaz commission for @chzva ✨

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