Author Topic: tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife -- open, return  (Read 172 times)

Offline Sheogorath

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thes code
a
a
sheogorath
and i say to myself, what a wonderful world
Sheogorath had been captured. After Flintlock had left him out by the road in the hopes that he'd be picked up by, perhaps, some friendly travelers, some bandits had found him instead. Or maybe, they were worse than bandits. Their intentions were to ransom Sheogorath off to the Badlands, believing him to still be a high ranking official, even though he wasn't. Not anymore. Perhaps they could get a greedy case of fine weaponry. But Sheogorath, who sat in the back of a horse drawn wagon, locked within an iron cage, knew exactly what was going to happen.

He didn't have much of his memories. The accident had taken most of them. But he did remember Catalyst, and they wouldn't roll over for a trio of bandits looking to ransom off their newfound cargo. No, Sheogorath was more worried about what he was going to say when he was finally freed. He had gone to Flintlock, an enemy group...to apologize. Sheogorath still wasn't entirely sure of what the extent of the damage he had caused to the other group was. He couldn't remember. But he knew he deserved to suffer for it. Hayley...she had a baby. He couldn't blame her for casting him out. For casting out a criminal and a terrorist.

The man leaned against the side of the horse drawn wagon, the bars of the cage leaving prints against his skin. Every roll of the wagon's wheels made his whole body ache. He was weak, hungry, dehydrated. And all he had were the clothes on his back, the wheelchair that had been tossed into the cage beside him, and the rabbit in his arms. The bandits had let him keep her, if only to threaten that they'd kill it every ten minutes to keep him in line. Sheogorath, weakly, lifted his head from where it had been hanging, and stared out of the bars at the world that passed around him. It was territory that felt so foreign to his empty, tangled mind, and yet so strangely familiar. A coastal town. Home. The Badlands.

The bandits stopped the horses just a little ways into the town, and one, brown haired, named Clide, slid out of the driver's seat and headed toward Sheogorath's caged position in the back.

"BADLANDS! I have one your highest ranking officials here. Your...Underboss, was it?" Clide's voice broke the silence, and steadily, drew a crowd, that looked in at the ruined, battered mess that was Sheogorath, alone in the cage asides from his rabbit. The other two men, John and Matt, exited the wagon as well, gathering beside their leader. "I demand..." Pulling a gun from the holster at his hip, Clide waved it through the air. "Some of your best weapons. Only then will I free Sheogorath." The brown haired man took a key from his pocket, and swiftly unlocked the cage, as if to prove that he was capable of it. But the door remained shut, held there by Clide's firm hand.

Sheogorath didn't move. He supposed if he wanted to, he could crawl, on his broken legs, with his aching hands and his cracked ribs, and his pounding, injured head. But he didn't have the strength for such a hopeless effort. He clung to the white rabbit in his arms, and silently rocked back and forth, trying to manage his heart pounding anxiety.


thes code
but the tigers come at night
WITH THEIR VOICES SOFT AS THUNDER

Offline 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐭

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Re: tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife -- open, return
« Reply #1 on: January 02, 2019, 11:22:55 PM »
//tw for violence and blood

Two many things had happened recently. In hindsight, perhaps they should have seen the signs and known better than to try to place Sheogorath in such an esteemed position; they should have seen him getting softer. Their intuition and observation skills seemed to have decreased significantly, but they weren't going to be so gullible anymore. But it wasn't just the small cues that he'd made that he was going soft, it was rejecting the brand in such a manner, it was the journal, it was going to Flintlock, it was his secret crusade to change.

It was a lot of things. Sheogorath had fallen quite far in the eyes of the leader, and now his damaged body was in a cage guarded by three men demanding their finest weapons. Cat walked over, ever the picture of calm, an expression of contemplation on their face. Considering all of this. Their hand slid into their pocket, slipping on the bronze knuckles hidden within. They removed their hand, then took off their jacket, tossing it off to the side. Those that knew them could already tell what they were preparing for, but those that didn't likely wouldn't notice. They approached slowly, leisurely, taking a look over Sheo's battered form before focusing on Clide. "What happened to him?" He looked as if he'd been through hell. He probably had, thinking about where he'd been and how he'd ended up here. Pathetic.

"He was like that when we found him!" The apparent leader replied quickly, not taking his hand away from the cage. They were only a couple meters away from him, now.

"I guess beaten half to death is the only way you could take one of us." They mused, looking back at Sheo for a moment, trying to meet his amber eyes. More people were gathering, more of their people. Cat smiled faintly. "But here's the thing, there's a lot of us... and we're not half dead." They lashed out, driving their fist into Clide's face. The sound of bones crunching filled the air as his head snapped back. The gun fell out of his hand, and Cat snatched it - they weren't sure if his goons also had firearms, but they weren't about to risk getting shot regardless. They pressed the gun to Clide's temple and pinned him against the door of the cage. Cat glanced around; sure enough, some of their people had followed their lead and were also attacking.
sighspace
I've been defeated I begged for what I needed
I suffered now I'm ready for war

Re: tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife -- open, return
« Reply #2 on: January 03, 2019, 02:40:14 AM »
Gabriel had heard the rumors, the whispers on the wind that the former killer had fled to Flintlock Lodge to try and make peace with the ones he had wronged in the past. Just like he had done with him days before. The teenager was still hesitant about the whole thing, on his genuineness and how "sorry" he really was. Nevertheless, Gabe had accepted it. Not with a smile, not with open arms; he had simply just acknowledged it. He still had no reason to trust the man who had held innocent people at knifepoint and played sick, twisted games on people like J did ( granted, he hadn't heard much of J lately ).

A shout rang out from the city streets; in fact, Gabe could faintly hear it from his own room. His attention was roused and he quickly slunk towards the scene, albeit probably unnoticed by those already gathered. The teenager peered at the trio of bandits who had rolled beyond the borders like they owned the joint, which already raised alarms in his head. They were obviously trespassers, and by the sound of it, they weren't friendly. In fact, they had a bruised and bloodied Sheogorath locked up in a cage like a wounded animal. The sight made Gabriel's blue eyes w i d e n and glisten in shock someone who had bore such an intimidating presence once among these streets was now utterly defeated, broken, encaged.

Gabriel looked to Catalyst as they swiftly moved to handle the situation; apparently, "handling the situation" meant resorting to violence. Then again, this was the Badlands. They played dirty. He was only one of the few people present here, and if he just stood there while the others did all the work, then they'd get outnumbered and cut down fast. He needed to act now. He had trained enough to hold his own, even if it could buy him a few minutes until assistance arrived. So, the grunt charged forward, diving and barreling into one of the bandits. They both crashed onto the floor, and before he could scramble to his feet, he had been yanked back with his head held in a lock. Gabe clenched his jaw and wriggled around, clawing at the grip and trying to free himself from the bandit's clutches.
LIKE A BRIDGE OVER TROUBLED WATER
I WILL LAY ME DOWN

Offline MICHAEL.

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Re: tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife -- open, return
« Reply #3 on: January 03, 2019, 03:00:58 AM »
"speech" 'thought' text
tw: alcohol, blood, profanity, violence, death

Michael had come up to stand about a foot behind Catalyst, his hands folded behind his back, and his body seemingly relaxed, though he was itching for something, to do something. Everything had been far to temperate for his liking, and while he hated killing, he disliked not killing more. It was a strange paradox that Michael was not about to try to unwind. Instead he let his lips curl in disgust at the figures, while he looked quite well, physically, he did have a lovely black eye courtesy of Russel. Not that he blamed the kid, god no, he had probably deserved it, after all, he'd been drunk, and the details were hazy at best. Not that he'd ask the sweater vest wearing dork to tell him what the fuck had happened.

His hands flexed behind him as Catalyst spoke, if these bandits thought it would be possible to get something in a trade with the Badlands, even if Sheogorath had still been a high ranking official, they were sorely mistaken. And Michael was contemplating whether any survivors should be left, or just one, to spread the tale of their ruthlessness. While this mental discussion was going on, the man caught a flash of motion as Catalyst lunged towards the lead bandit, disarming him and turning his own gun on him.

Seconds later there was a retaliation from both sides, well it was more of a failed effort on the sides of the bandits as Michael sprang into action, hands pushing aside a weapon about to discharge in the general area of Catalyst, and an elbow met the face of the person firing it. The shot hit the ground with a loud thunk, the sound reverberating in the area around him.

This was his natural habitat. Whatever anyone could say about him, he looked much like a penguin under water when he fought, unlike the awkward things on land. Was that an odd comparison? While locked in a rather un-engaging fight with one of the bandits, he contemplated the annoyance he felt at Catalyst's actions, not that he would have done anything different, well, perhaps shot the two idiots who were now being fought by Badlanders before pointing the gun at Clide.

Ah well, it didn't matter much, perhaps there was a tiny spark of humanity in the monster after all. Then again, who was he to judge? Michael was no longer human... He didn't deserve such a title, he was at best, a shade. Catapulted out of his inner dialogue, though it lasted mere seconds he felt the man hit a glancing blow hit his shoulder, and he stumbled back, surprised that this idiot hat even landed a blow.

"God damn it." He muttered as the barely scabbed scar on his hand opened up again, he held it up at the bandit angrily. "You see what you just did?" He asked angrily, feeling his focus return to him with a vengeance. There was nothing but the fight in front of him, his head did not ache, his hand did not hurt, it was survive. There was nothing else in his mind at that time.

Red, that was the color he saw as his body twisted, pulling the arm of the man forwards, and setting the bandit off balance. It took less than a minute, but the man was now on the ground panting, there was a look of terror in his eyes, yet Michael did not flinch, he did not hesitate. Stepping behind the man and grabbing his head and neck between his arm and bracing it, he felt the definitive snap.

It was over, he was not breathing all that hard, though his hand was bleeding again. Blood trickled down onto the prone form, and Michael looked down at the man, no remorse in his eyes. Unwinding the rosary from his wrist, blood staining the beautiful carved wood, squeezing the cross tightly in his bloodied palm. Finally he became aware of the world around him, Catalyst was still in his spot, gun pointed to the temple of the lead bandit, and Gabe was, he looked around quickly to find the form of the boy on the ground, held by the second bandit... the able bodied one he supposed grimly. "Step away from the boy."

His voice was quiet, but there was a seething rage hidden within the depths of each word threatening to boil out. Wrapping the rosary back around his wrist he took a few steps forwards, kicking at the face of the man and sending him off Gabriel. He would have done more, would have absolutely destroyed the man... but his eyes strayed to those of Gabriel. "May I?" He asked, unwilling to step further into the fight than he already had.

Yes, he'd kicked the bandit off of Gabe, but that was keeping the kid alive. Now he wouldn't dispatch this lowlife without the sayso of the kid. After all, it was Gabe's opponent, and it was bad manners to kill someone else's foe. Though, Mike didn't really care all that much for manners it was true. He licked his lips thoughtfully, blood still trickling from his hand.

He could feel it now, could feel the sting of the reopened injury, and god did it hurt. But there was something at hand, and hopefully he'd be able to rid himself of the excess adrenaline. He grimaced and glanced briefly down at the cut, it wasn't as bad as it could have been, just a light flesh wound, but the hands were a pretty sensitive place, Mike knew that well. If there had been less people, and he had more alcohol in him, he might have began to fondly think of a childhood memory, but as it stood, well... there were more important things at hand.
« Last Edit: January 03, 2019, 03:04:03 AM by MICHAEL. »
MICHAEL FORD
Michael Ford is a 45 year old, man, he's stubbornly loyal to whatever cause he chooses, protective of his family and friends, he's a grunt in the Badlands. Michael has issues controlling his anger in most situations. He is a difficult opponent and well trained, feel free to power play nonviolent interactions though.

Offline Sheogorath

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Re: tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife -- open, return
« Reply #4 on: January 03, 2019, 10:53:34 AM »
thes code
a
a
sheogorath
and i say to myself, what a wonderful world
Sharp amber eyes shifted to the approaching figure of Catalyst, analyzing the other person with silent interest. Sheogorath knew what was coming. He wasn't exactly friends with the leader, but he knew well enough to assume that they weren't going to comply with Clide's demand. The glint of bronze knuckles snagged the red haired man's gaze for a moment before his dark pupils wavered and lifted, searching the faces of the others that had approached through the cage bars. Gabriel and Michael.

There was going to be a fight.

Sheogorath's attention returned to Catalyst, just in time to catch the other's eyes for a moment. Sheogorath wasn't sure what was to be found in the gaze of his leader, but he didn't have time to analyze it. The contact was gone in one brief moment. Then the battle began. Sheogorath clutched his rabbit as Catalyst struck the bandit leader. The crunch of bone brought back unwanted memories, so Sheogorath quickly shut them out. Shut everything out. He ducked his head into the bunny's fur and breathed in the earthen scent that resided there as the fight waged onward.

Lifting his gaze for just one curious instant, Sheogorath had time to see Gabriel struggling with an opponent, as Michael finished off his own.


thes code
« Last Edit: January 03, 2019, 10:58:06 AM by Sheogorath »
but the tigers come at night
WITH THEIR VOICES SOFT AS THUNDER

Offline lake

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Re: tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife -- open, return
« Reply #5 on: January 03, 2019, 12:00:55 PM »
[ tw for blood, stabbing, and uh bag nudging ]

lake was quiet when she first approached. when it was just the foreigners and cat, others heading over with each word spoken. her eyes were flat, bored as she looked over the scene. as the fighting began, she turned and disappeared into the trees; a moment later, upon her return, she held a long thin stick in one hand, nearly the length of her form, either end sharpened to a dangerous point. she didn't bother with the whole talking thing, and she didn't bother with fighting. michael stood over the man on the ground, asking gabe for permission, and lake narrowed dark eyes at him as she got closer, not hesitating to plunge the spear into the base of the man's neck, releasing the spear and letting it stay in his neck as she stepped over him.

❝you take too long,❞ she said, pointing sharply at michael. then, she went right on towards cat, passing by the top dog and the man they had pinned against the cage, instead jumping up onto the wagon with an ease that might suggest gravity wasn't much of a thing, landing lightly and peering over into the cage, observing the sheogorath was still alive to some degree with that everpresent frown, before glancing at cat. ❝what now?❞ she demanded, feeling bored and restless. she wasn't sure what catalyst would want to do with the man who'd played mouthpiece, or sheogorath, but she wanted to do something with someone so she could get back to making more shanks. her eyes would promptly shift to the bags on the wagon, nudging one over with a boot to let the items inside spill out, eyeing the things curiously, hoping for food.
she'll want the devil on her side

Offline 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐭

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Re: tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife -- open, return
« Reply #6 on: January 03, 2019, 03:18:58 PM »
//tw for murder and blood
//oh and I did have permission to powerplay Sheo

Much to Cat's great pleasure, their people wasted no time in dispatching the other two guards. A shot ran out, striking the dirt not far from where they stood, and they jerked a slight bit in surprise. Blech, they hated guns. They chucked the one in their hand aside and withdrew one of the many knives hidden on their person. With an efficient slice, they slit the man's throat and let him drop. They looked up at Lake, who had climbed up on top of the wagon. "I should think that'd be obvious." They said, shrugging. "Loot."

Catalyst was not going to loot, however. They turned their attention to Sheogorath, and after a moment they put their weapons back into their pockets. They pulled open the heavy iron door and climbed into the cage. They stood over the man, hovering for another instant before reaching down and tugging the red bandanna off of Sheo's neck, neatly folding it and sliding that too into their pocket. "Next time I might not feel like getting blood on me." They breathed, barely audibly, into Sheo's ear.

They straightened and tossed the wheelchair down onto the ground, hopping down themself a moment later in order to fix the wheelchair so it could be used. They climbed back up into the wagon and reached down, hooking their arm under Sheo's and pulling him up. He was heavy, and Cat grimaced, but they weren't going to ask for help moving him unless they absolutely needed it. With some effort, they half carried, half dragged Sheo to the mouth of the cage and to the edge of the wagon, where they paused and reevaluated.

After a moment's thought, they eased Sheo down onto the wagon, then hopped down to the ground once more, only to drag Sheo down once they were there, putting him into the wheelchair. With Sheo now somewhere that was a bit more appropriate, they wiped their forehead, smearing blood across it. At the moment, they didn't really care. "I had someone water and feed your ferret while you were gone. I expect he'll be happy to see you." That was hardly the only thing they'd arranged while Sheo was absent, but that was a matter for another day.
sighspace
« Last Edit: January 03, 2019, 03:22:48 PM by 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐭 »
I've been defeated I begged for what I needed
I suffered now I'm ready for war

Offline Sheogorath

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Re: tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife -- open, return
« Reply #7 on: January 03, 2019, 06:30:02 PM »
thes code
a
a
sheogorath
and i say to myself, what a wonderful world
With Lake's arrival, the last two bandits were swiftly finished off. Sheogorath peered through the white fur of his newfound rabbit, Marshmallow, with sharp eyes. He wasn't sure how he felt in that moment. The sight of blood reminded him of the things he was trying to avoid, his former self, his prior actions. Though his memories of his former self were fragmented, he remembered enough to know that he hadn't been the kindest of people. No. He had been cruel. Ruthless. A monster.

In the blink of an eye, the iron cage door was swinging away from the frame with an audible creak, and Catalyst entered. For a moment, they simply hovered, and Sheogorath gazed up at them, letting his vision focus upon their nose, instead of their eyes. Eye contact had never been painful for the man, from what he could remember, but in that moment, it was too much of a struggle to attempt. The bandanna, which he faintly remembered receiving, was slipped away from his neck, and the skin there felt suddenly bare and cold as Catalyst tucked it away with words that were hardly audible.

Should he show gratitude? Say thank you? But Catalyst had taken one half of what had made him a Badlander. The bandanna. Did that mean he was in some kind of trouble? Sheogorath lifted one hand to the necklace he still had around his throat. At least that hadn't been taken, but a part of him didn't want it at all. To be a Badlander. It was a bad thing. But it was his home. He had no other place. Flintlock had shown him that.

The wheelchair went first, snatched from the cage and placed upon the cold earth outside. Sheogorath tensed. He was next, wasn't he? Just one more thing he supposed he should be grateful for.

It was agony, as he was half carried, half dragged from the wagon cage interior. A groan split the man's lips, but he managed to maintain his grip on the white rabbit in his arms. It relieved him, relaxed him, gave him some amount of security, to possess the animal. Rabbits were Sheogorath's favorite, and he found himself thinking back to the one he used to have. At least...one he thought he used to have. Haskill. The name sprung to his shattered mind, but Sheogorath could only barely grasp at it, like trying to grab a tiny piece of paper dancing upon a rough breeze.

It was frustrating, to struggle with memories that should come to his call with obedient ease.

He eventually managed to find himself in the wheelchair again, thanks to Catalyst. Sheogorath really should say something, but speaking was a terrible effort to the man. Ever since the accident. Ever since the weight of his actions had truly crushed his mind and soul. The leader was speaking again. A ferret. He had a ferret. Wait, yes, he remembered. Twister? That sounded right. Sheogorath didn't feel concerned in that moment. Well, perhaps a bit traumatized. But he wasn't expecting that anything could get any worse.

He was home now, and he had a ferret that was probably excited to see him again. Sheogorath would bet that Marshmallow and Twister would get along well. His fingers brushed through the white bunny's fur that had settled within his lap as Sheogorath dropped his gaze to the animal in silence.


thes code
but the tigers come at night
WITH THEIR VOICES SOFT AS THUNDER

Offline Russel S.

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Re: tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife -- open, return
« Reply #8 on: January 03, 2019, 08:41:58 PM »
//tracking until i get an opportunity to read and respond
REALITY BLEEDS ANSWERS
russel ;; he/him ;; 14yrs ;; busy, tag for quicker response