Author Topic: 「 we're the gladiators 」 — trial, open  (Read 219 times)

Offline hayley

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「 we're the gladiators 」 — trial, open
« on: February 08, 2019, 09:43:58 PM »
☁  hayley didn't tolerate a number of things. she didn't deal with people who chewed with their mouth open, anyone talking over her, and, as everyone would come to discover that fateful afternoon, anyone who touched her own. brendan was not only a young teenager, but one of her high positions, and a resident of the lodge. she wouldn't put up with this kind of bullshit, not from anyone, and especially not a badlander. in the all too recent talk she'd had with cat, they'd agreed she had the right to put anyone who made a move against a flintlocker on trial and punish him as they saw fit. and while brendan had provoked the man, prodded him with a stick, the crime and the punishment didn't align.

❝members of flintlock gather,❞ she shouted, tone sharp as a knife and holding an edge to it, dark eyes shifting about the room, ❝for our very first trial.❞ she'd say, stepping up onto the coffee table. in the door came various people from the scene, and fronting the group was jackson leading in a badlander, half shoving him along, visibly unhappy with the man. he'd bring him right over towards the coffee table, and make a slight shove to seat him on the ground, roughly but not enough to cause any real pain or injury.

❝this man here is a badlander, here to bring some gift to our group. normally, i'd be grateful for it. brendan arrived before i got the chance to, however, and i witnessed, from a distance, brendan poking the man with his staff.❞ she explained, doing her best to contain her anger, to stay calm. ❝i'll be the first to say it wasn't right, brendan shouldn't have done that. but brendan is also fourteen, and he poked this man. he didn't shove him, didn't stab him, but prodded him with it. and this grown man thought the proper response would be to swing at him. from there, brendan responded with a kick, and the man swung at him again. this was not two grown men fighting; as much as i trust and respect brendan, he's in the body of a teenage boy, still growing, and nothing about the fight was fair.

❝before anything else happened, jackson and i arrived. he complied at gun point, surrendered himself, and, to his credit, apologized with words. but, and this is just personal speculation, nothing about him seemed in any way apologetic. he, in fact, called brendan an arrogant little shit, and went on to say that he deserved what happened to him. because brendan poked him, he deserved to be beaten by a grown man.❞ her eyes shifted to brendan in that moment, and if the boy in any way looked like he wanted to comment, her eyes would tell him not to.

❝we currently have a truce with the badlands, and within that truce, it is stated that, should any badlander commit a crime towards a flintlocker, we have the right to force them to stand trial, and punish them as we see fit. jackson and i were eyewitnesses, brendan was the one assaulted, and whether or not he's the one who did it is undeniable. he has no ground to stand on for a defense, so i'm not going to waste anyone's time with it. at the end of the day, a man of his size attacking someone who isn't even fifteen yet is inexcusable.❞ her anger, the worst of it, had simmered out. she was pissed, but it was a quiet, easy sort of anger, and her gaze was full of disgust. ❝his sentence is three weeks in one of the cells in the basement. his meals will be limited to two a day, he will have a guard at all times, and no one during this time is to speak to him or acknowledge him unless there is a life threatening medical emergency. no time outside, no entertainment, just time for him to think about what he did to land himself in there, and the truce he jeopardized.❞

in and out, she breathed, glancing at the man on the ground before shifting her eyes back up to the ground, before pinpointing on jackson. ❝jackson, i want you to take a patrol down to the badlands to inform catalyst of the situation, and invite him to come speak to his soldier, and to see we haven't harmed him. brendan, step aside with me for a moment, i'd like to check on you.❞ she said, gaze landing on the boy, eyes telling him to just come with her.

jackson, dutiful as ever, turned to the group of people and cleared his throat. ❝any volunteers?❞

( this part takes place in private, and no one but brendan will participate until the next linebreak )

hayley moved into the hallway, out of the line of hearing of the crowd, as well as the line of sight. just as soon as he'd followed her into the privacy, hayley turned on her heels to face him, eyes meeting his. ❝okay brendan, listen to me,❞ she whispered, voice hardly audible, ❝he got two hits in and you got one. jackson held you back and... and it was the right decision in the moment. but you're angry at him, and i get it, and i'm not going to let you beat him bloody, i can't, but all i'm going to say is-❞

she paused, glanced around, and leaned in to him a little closer. ❝if you want to turn around right now, walk in there, and get your second hit in, no one will stop you. i'll have to scold you, tell you to tend to the chickens as a chore, but anyone with any sense of justice won't question it. you only get one more hit though, so make it count, and make that son of a bitch cry.❞

and with that, she'd stand up and walk right into the living room.

( from this point onward, everyone sees and knows what happens! )

hayley moved back into the living room and put a hand on the shoulder of two npc men near the back, nodding towards mike. ❝stephen, henry, i want you two to bring him down to the basement and put him in the smallest cell we have in there. henry, you're on first guard.❞ she instructed them, and they began to move through the crowd at a predictable speed, to where mike was, jackson pulling the man to his feet.

- brendan poked mike with his staff, the two fought, hayley stopped them and mike was apprehended. his trial was held, but it was open and shut, no jury or defense needed.
- he was sentenced to three weeks in the small prison set up in the basement, with two meals a day, no recreation or entertainment, and no one is allowed to speak to him or acknowledge him.
- jackson's taking a group to the badlands to inform cat, and anyone who wants their character to go is free to volunteer.
- hayley took brendan to the side and told him he gets an unofficial free hit, however they were in private and no one but brendan was privy to that information besides him.
« Last Edit: February 08, 2019, 09:47:55 PM by HAYLEY »
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Re: 「 we're the gladiators 」 — trial, open
« Reply #1 on: February 10, 2019, 10:08:00 PM »
brendan i. collins
tag: n/a. words: 774. bio.
(( sorry this is so late!! && watching spider-man 2 while writing this so sorry if it’s bad &&& tw for mentions of kidnapping and harm to children ))

There are a few things Brendan doesn’t tolerate, as expected of him, but honestly a fair number of them are pretty hecking——petty. Awkward people that are staring at him (jeez, tomorrow much?), people that mess with his chickens, people that eat chickens...the list goes on and on and on. Of course, there are the things that he doesn’t tolerate as well that are, y’know, actually legit things to get pissed off about; a prime example would be what happened at the flintlock border.

As one might know, or at the very least suspect: Brendan’s protective of the things he cares about. Like, very protective; there aren’t many things he has left in his life, but the stuff he does have are, in his mind, something he can’t afford to lose. And while he might not be the kind to admit it out loud, the lodge is pretty darn important to him. When he had lost his parents, when he was lost and unsure of where his life was headed, the lodge took him in. And while he hasn’t always been...loyal, he merely guesses, to the lodge, in the end it’ll always be his home.

And so, when a badlander comes to the border, someone a part of a group that for ages have tormented and ruined Brendan’s life, he——gets pretty pissed. If the badlands is okay with shooting, kidnapping, and beating some twelve-year-old...surely they’d be willing to do that with anyone else in the lodge, too? Brendan isn’t going to ignore the possibility of someone innocent—like hope—being targeted by the badlands again. Not only that, but with the recent murder, it’s al just...he doesn’t fricken know, he just doesn’t trust them; he doesn’t give a flying crap about the neutral stance, in his mind the badlands will always be the enemy.

Mike, in this case, is definitely no exception. Following Hayley into the room, Brendan clings onto his staff, icy cold glower not even daring to leave mike’s figure. Teeth bared, the teenager placed himself on the other side of Hayley, away from mike to where he can’t reach but close enough to have shoulders tensed and staff held close; he can’t trust mike to not just...get up and start attacking people. Casting his glare onto Hayley, Brendan listens to the trial, frown tightening.

Yeah, sure—he poked mike with a staff. But hey, the keyword here is fricken poked, it’s not like he declared war and proceeded to hit mike as if he’s some fricken home run baseball. No, Brendan poked, and mike decided to throw a punch. Rolling his shoulders, the fourteen-year-old lifts his chin; he can’t help but feel a little bit of pride surge in his chest as Hayley mentions the kick. Heck yeah he kicked mike—square in the jaw! Brendan’s only regret is that he didn’t get to kick mike again (preferably one that would knock him out). Meeting Hayley’s eye, however, causes Brendan to snap back to attention.

At the mention of the "arrogant little shit" part, Brendan tenses, glaring daggers at Mike; in his mind, the only "arrogant little shit" around here is that badlander. But Hayley’s sharp stare tells him to keep quiet, and so he does——reluctantly. Rolling his eyes, brendan stands as still as he can (he’s aggressively vibrating from rage at this point) as Mike’s sentence is laid out. Okay, okay...Brendan can’t help but tense even more at the fact that mike is going to just——stay in the basement. Last time flintlock had a prisoner, it ended so fricken badly. Who’s to say the same won’t happen with mike? After all, apparently mike likes incapacitating teenagers; it’ll probably be a field day for him if he runs around punching guards.

With that, the trial draws to an end...almost. Blinking in surprise, Brendan’s mouth gapes in open a little as Hayley ushers him elsewhere, away from the crowd. Staff lowering a little, the teenager follows the leader into the hallway, looking back at the living room—and mike, more specifically—for a split second before landing his hues back onto Hayley. Shoulders drooping a little, he stares in mild surprise as Hayley offers him to throw a revenge punch. Blood pumping and heart racing, Brendan briskly nods, barely listening to Hayley as she lists the "punishment" he’d receive; heck yeah, he’s ready to whoop some fricken badlander butt!

As soon as she finishes, he gives a final curt nod before tossing his staff down, turning heel to charge into the living room. Fury boiling in his stomach, Brendan rushes to mike and, with a sharp turn, he swiftly attempts to slam his foot right into mike’s solar plexus.

(( here’s a good reference of the kick Brendan tries to use on mike!! obvi he isn’t as strong as the dude in the gif since he’s a teenager, but it’s the same kick and whatnot ))
« Last Edit: February 10, 2019, 10:09:46 PM by BRENDAN »
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Offline tomorrow

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Re: 「 we're the gladiators 」 — trial, open
« Reply #2 on: February 12, 2019, 07:47:55 PM »
Tomorrow could feel his very soul trembling in his chest, breath fluttery and difficult to force down his throat. Hayley's voice sounded like a knife right now, and it took all his composure to focus on her words. His hands shook, maybe from the cold or maybe from something else.

Seeing the fury in Hayley's eyes was terrifying. He knew it was warranted, and he wanted to be just as pissed as her for what this Badlander did to Brendan, but he could only gulp in another breath and stay silent throughout the trial. It wasn't even really a trial; there was nobody to represent Mike. Tomorrow knew he shouldn't care, especially since he'd seen the aftermath of the fight and everybody knew Mike was in the wrong here.

Still, it made him queasy. He'd been on the receiving end of such fury before, one that refused to listen to any narrative except its own. He fumbled for Jeremiah's head, scratching behind the dog's ears a bit roughly without realizing.

He did not speak up and volunteer to go with Jackson. He stayed still as Hayley left with Brendan until the pair came back, and Hayley announced Mike's punishment. He forced down another breath, and kept his hazy vision locked on the floor. He flinched as he heard the sound, and he instinctively looked up to see Brendan attempting to kick Mike.

Jumping to his feet, Tomorrow grabbed for Jeremiah's scruff and turned around to start pushing through the crowd towards the exit. His nerves were shot, and all he could do was slink away before shit hit the fan even more.
'cus it don't make a difference anyway
tags - 26yrs - 6'1 - he/him - representative of fl

Offline MICHAEL.

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Re: 「 we're the gladiators 」 — trial, open
« Reply #3 on: February 12, 2019, 08:58:57 PM »
"speech" 'thought' text
tw: mentions alcohol, blood, profanity, themes of violence

Mike made no resistance as he was pushed into the room, his pace was not sluggish, though he stumbled and nearly fell a few times at Jackson's shoving. However, he made no comment, no protest, just a grunt as his ankle rolled beneath him, painfully reminding him to watch where he stepped. Before he was able to recover from his unbalance, he was pushed quite unceremoniously to the ground, knees hitting the hard floor first with a thud, and then rocking back to put most of his weight on his lower legs.

He kept his mouth shut as Hayley spoke, it was true, it was all true. He had done that, and he wasn't entirely proud of it now... any anger he felt had since subsided, leaving only an empty void in his stomach as he listened to Hayley's tirade. His brows furrowed as she said he had "complied at gunpoint" when he had actually stopped cold after punching Brendan in the stomach... he hadn't jumped on the kid or started pummeling him. Though, he didn't deserve much credit.

If he had any self control he would not have punched the kid in the first place for poking him, albeit in his broken rib. It was interesting that she gave him no moment for defense, no second to say anything before she laid down what (to Mike,) seemed like a very light sentence indeed. He had lived with little food and water before, he had been confined to a small 5'x5' room in the past. He'd undergone physical and mental torture to prepare him for the world of Special Ops. Though, much had changed since then.

Mike took a deep breath, inhaling shakily and exhaling, the pain from the aggravated broken rib sharp and needle like. The soldier did not speak though, why would he? What did he have to say? He knew that after this was over Cat would most likely kill him, so whatever punishment these Lodgers decided to give him was nothing compared to the wrath of his boss. He swallowed at the thought of Cat's rage, it would be pretty uncomfortable to say the least.

He wasn't all that curious about what Hayley said to Brendan as she pulled him aside, he didn't turn his body or crane his neck in order to catch a glimpse of the conversation. It was most likely her saying something to him about... well him. Mike shook his head thoughtfully, at least he was now thawing out again after kneeling in the snow for what seemed to be a long time. His shins were still partially numb though.

It was interesting really, to think about how easily he'd lost his temper. He knew it shouldn't have been so simple to push his buttons and lose his cool. But it had, and that was something he supposed he'd have time to think about now that he'd be locked away for three weeks with nothing but his thoughts. Damn, that was a very... interesting idea, him and his thoughts locked in a room together. He was curious to see who would come out on top, though also a bit worried. One of them was not leaving that room the same... but which would change?

He was busy in thought, too busy to notice that Hayley and Brendan had returned, and with a shocked gasp and grunt he staggered backwards as Brendan's foot connected with his chest. Perhaps if there had not been a healing bullet wound and two broken ribs, his reaction might have been different, but he did have those injuries. He was unable to stumble back far with Jackson's grip on his arm, but even so he doubled over his body on fire.

A few of the stitches that were holding the wound shut had been broken, and a slow stain of red began to spread over his shirt, he felt himself wheezing, coughing, sputtering, his body aching for breath, but his lungs unable to find the air. As he began to regain control of his lungs, Harry and Stephen, the two men that Hayley had assigned to take him down to his new home for the next three weeks secured him.

Breath slowly returning to normal, his eyes focused on Brendan, but though he was angry, he also understood... he had punched Brendan in the stomach, and it was only fair for Brendan to be able to return the favor. "Aim a little bit more to the left, and a centimeter or so up next time." The soldier advised the boy, perhaps it was stupid, but Mike didn't want the kid to miss the full on target next time. Sometimes it was difficult to gauge properly where a hit was going to land, but he was sure the kid would improve. Hell, he was Gabe's age after all.
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.