Author Topic: trouble weighs a ton — double joining , open .  (Read 421 times)

Offline truce.

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trouble weighs a ton — double joining , open .
« on: April 25, 2021, 11:24:45 AM »
Wasn’t it frustrating?

Wasn’t it frustrating the way that the recognition of numerous good deeds could be washed away by the memory of a single bad one? That, despite the rectitude of a man and his moral compass, he could so easily be deemed not the vigilante he was but a barbarian in the eyes of others? Every step they took looked to be like battling beasts starved of violence, always on edge and eager to lash out in the name of the notoriously established fighting group named the Six Hounds. Every death of their hands could never be self-defence as there would always be someone to shout murder at the top of their lungs. Survival was no longer about living for oneself, but instead living for others; it was always that way for the men who sought for redemption a little too late.

It seldom concerned Marcus Reyes anymore, as he would always be seen as a bad guy in somebody’s story.

In theory, he was indeed an admirable man, though, if disregarding the choices he had once made for the Six Hounds. A veterinarian whose preoccupation for his career stemmed from his childhood. A smallholder’s son, self-sufficiency and resilience were qualities that he’d hold onto from his upbringing; these were the traits that led to his survival until this very point. But, who did he live for if everything he'd once loved in his former life was now ash and dust?

If he no longer survived for himself, he’d survive for Ramona.

Ramona didn’t need anyone to look out for her but, as her mentor during her younger years, his protectiveness felt more to be habitual than ever doubting her capabilities. In some ways, he believed that she was far more resilient than he could ever be. She was bulletproof in the way she walked and talked as if she were a ticking bomb that most should steer away from. As if one wrong look in her direction would lead her to erupt. When she spoke, she was blunt and vulgar, and casually so as well. She would never bring herself to thank him, but Ramona’s gratitude for Marcus’ diplomatic tendencies would forever remain. Without him, she likely would have gotten into too many fights to see herself the victor of all of them. No fight was worth fighting if she could not win.

Marcus had been loyal by her side for the entirety of her time in Six Hounds. Even after the collapse of their former group, his faithfulness was unwavering. Like a father she never had, but more. Like a friend, too, and a mentor, a guardian angel she’d never admit she needed. The coldness of their home had nearly been too much to bear at the best of times but, when their enemies set it ablaze, she exhumed her soul from the ashes. When Six Hounds was burned to the ground, Ramona was lost but free.

❝ This looks to be the place. ❞ Marcus pointed out as he stopped abruptly, shrugging his rucksack off of one shoulder to feel around for a tattered map. Upon folding it open, the map was heavily edited with The New World's new landmarks and features, big cities scored off with a black marker pen and red marker circling new groups of importance.

❝ You said that the last two places. ❞ Ramona's shoulders slouched as she stood beside Marcus, lip curled slightly as she watched the town of Alexandra in the distance. The former two groups in the prairie didn't take too kindly to their announcement that they were searching for a good friend that was last seen in Bluestem Prairie. Wherever Magnus was assumed to have run off to, it certainly was a fitting place for him to call home. A place quick to make enemies. Craning her neck, Ramona clenched and unclenched gloved hands before reaching out to try pull the map to a better place for her to see. ❝ Well... They don't got any landmarks that would tell us otherwise. All we can do is just ask. ❞

Marcus lowered the map, giving Ramona a long stare before he grimaced ever-so-slightly, ❝ Really? ❞

❝ Yeah. Really. ❞

❝ Yeah, and with our odds I can't see them being too happy to play tour guide if they aren't the people we're lookin' for. ❞ A voice of reason between the duo, yet Marcus' words were gruff and rough around the edges; just as they'd been taught back in Six Hounds.

Well, ❞ Ramona interjected with shrugging shoulders, ❝ I guess we'll go and see. How else are we supposed to find out? ❞ With that, she began to wander closer towards the town, leaving Marcus to sigh before folding up the map again and shoving it in his rucksack, soon following suit. The woman had a death wish, he was sure of it. He could barely blame her, though; they'd been treated like weapons for so long that they didn't know how else to act.
I'M BURNING BRIDGES, I DESTROY THE MIRAGE
ALL VISIONS OF COLLISIONS, FUCKING BON VOYAGE — truce.#1303

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Offline jamie.

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Re: trouble weighs a ton — double joining , open .
« Reply #1 on: May 21, 2021, 01:47:12 PM »

it was frustrating, the way that numerous good deeds could be washed away by a single bad act. the way that good memories - many of them - could be swept away with the tide, tainted by the bad memories that hurt to think about. it was a frustrating concept, an irritating one for a young boy that wanted nothing more than to have what he used to hold so dear to him - but knowing that those few bad memories stained the good ones, painted them in such a way that the good moments hurt, he could never have what he used to. his family was forever torn apart by the bad memories and, try as hard as he did to let his father back in, it was difficult for him to overlook those bad memories in order to remember the good ones.

it was even more difficult when those stained memories were passed onto you, carried with you. and jamie… he felt as though he had to work twice as hard as others just to try and prove he wasn’t the man everyone thought van den berghs ought to be. sometimes it still felt as though all of his hard work - the blood, sweat, and tears - wouldn’t be enough. there was blood on his hands, tamara serge’s blood on his hands - was he really the good man that he painted himself out to be? the thought weighed him down most days, made him wonder what he was even doing with his life anymore.

he was too young to be thinking in such a way.

the youngest of the van den berghs stood by the pasture, watching the livestock with an absent gaze. though, as he halfheartedly swiveled his gaze around the outer territory of the prairie, his gaze lingered on the sight of two newcomers. usually he wasn’t one of the first to get to visitors or new joiners, though he supposed there was a first for everything. shoving his hands in his front pockets, he waited only a moment longer before he made his way towards the duo.

“hey,” he called out in greeting, waiting until he got close enough before he said, “welcome to bluestem prairie. what brings you two here?”