Outlast Trials Ocs

🍼Baby talk🐕‍🦺

! not a ship

"..He shoved the barrel right against my head and kept demanding the money. It was like.. it was like he thought if he kept yelling at me, it'd just drop into my lap."

Parval's voice was flat, as though he'd told the story a hundred times before.. Although it was probably closer to three at most. He scratched at his nose absentmindedly, his fingers brushing over the leather strap of the muzzle clamped over his face. The cold metal beneath his touch made him pause. Oh. Right. Still there. He sighed heavily, earning a quick glance from Franco, who was hunched over his Lupara, polishing it with a focus that made Parval uneasy.

"Well, Parval," Franco drawled, The man's focus was still on his shotgun as he spoke, his thick hands sliding over the intricate carvings along the stock of the Lupara. "Better be thankful it wasn't me comin' to collect your debt." He paused, eyes darting up from his shotgun to give Parval a glance before dismissing him again. "If it was me, you wouldn't be sittin' here bellyachin'. I don't leave people alive to tell the story. Its.. bad for business to leave loose ends."

Franco's laugh came sharp and guttural.. yet also strangely childish, bobbing his head as if he found himself endlessly amusing. He moved to the scattered remnants of the ruined crates-what was left of his product. Damn reagents... always poking their noses into shit that didn't concern them. At least two of them got what was coming-one met the business end of Franco's Lupara- real nice and personal- , the other got mauled to death by Parval himself. Seems the man got to put those fresh new implanted dog teeth to use before a muzzle was clamped back onto his maw.

The product being ruined wasn't the part that pissed him off the most.

Parval hadn't moved a muscle to help since the two remaining reagents left. Franco noticed, and his professionalism refused to let Parval forget whose fault that was they even lost the product.. at least in Franco's mind.

"You planning on helping clean up anytime today, or are you just gonna sit there crying about your daddy's debts?" Franco grunted, his patience thinning as he once again glanced at the seated man.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," Parval muttered, his voice tight with frustration.

He groaned as he pushed himself off the barrel, wincing as he gingerly placed his feet down-right leg first, then left. The external fixator strapped to his calf gave him more pain than he wanted to think about. He had barely any feeling left in it. He stretched out his legs, shaking off the stiffness before he started picking up the scattered casings littering the floor. He didn't want to be here, didn't want to help. But he understood the power Franco held.. so he pushed himself up to help-The tension between them was always there, thick in the air like smoke, but Parval pushed through. Franco wasn't even a part of the mafia responsible for his wife and boys' death. It was a Soviet group. Yet strangely, Parval found himself almost blaming Franco sometimes.

Franco had nothing to do with it.

He bent down, picking up another casing, his mind racing. He couldn't remember much of living in the Soviet Union. He knew him and his family were persecuted- they were called Kulaks. Land owning presents who were farmers. The farming business died with his father. Ironic! He was just running a business, trying to stay alive, keep the wife and new kiddo proudly named Parval after his grandfather alive, and somehow Mr. Tarasov and his family were enemies of the Union.. So some money borrowed when the land was stripped away from the family. Then more money when no one would buy from them anymore. More and more until-

Until suddenly, there were men at the door demanding the money back.. However when they came, the Tarasov's were gone.

The more he thought about it, the more it burned him. "It's not like I took out the damn loan," Parval muttered, voice growing hollow as the bitterness set in. "Why do I have to pay for it? I wasn't even in the Union anymore and when that mess started I was a kid... and now I'm supposed to clean up his shit? It's not fair." His hands crumpled up a casing, tossing it to the side as he growled out the words. He was only a dog trainer. He didn't even know his dad was in debt. Would have been nice for the asshole to tell him before he was dead! Parval assumed they moved to America for opportunities- not because there were men who wanted his whole family dead back in the Union!