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| [O] Chains; Open | |
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| Topic Started: Sun Apr 11, 2010 2:05 am (65 Views) | |
| Auron DeBrouchet | Sun Apr 11, 2010 2:05 am Post #1 |
 
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Rebirth is rarely a pretty thing. In the stories, there’s always the show of lights, the glow of health about the resurrected. But in reality, death is undignified, and the return is no more so. It started with a breath. Impossibly deep, filling lungs to bursting point, ready to tear. On the release, it was accompanied with a heave. Blood spattered on the ground, coughing. A fire burned in his belly, white-hot agony from the fatal wound that had brought sweet, merciful death. His escape from this life, from the disapproval of a woman who had loved him. Coagulated blood dried and flaked away with the convulsions, leaving behind a pink, shining line of new flesh, knitting together behind the organs being pulled back through the smile cut into his belly. Finding his voice, Auron let out an agonized scream, swallowed by the trees. Coughs broke the howl, expelling bits of ash. The pain receded to a hot throbbing throughout his entire body, skin sensitive to the touch. He lay there for what felt like hours, chest rising and falling as he drew crisp air into healed lungs. Sitting up, he ran a hand over the scarred flesh, sighing. His fingers trailed over the others, lines between ribs, a blotchy white mark over his sternum, a slice around his throat. Picking up the dagger beside him, he scraped away the blood crusted on its stained blade and rammed it home in his scabbard. Standing let the cloak fall back around his bared chest. Reaching to his side, he found the cool touch of the iron mask at his hip. Auron circled around the blood-darkened earth and walked into the forest, uncaring of what direction he headed. His route was decided as it were. Without a set destination, his path always led back to the church tower that rose from the earth, a warped thing once belonging to a friend, now twisted to suit that friend’s desires. He was not who Auron thought him to be, not discovering the hideous truth until he was locked into his games. With an angered grunt, he tore the knife from his belt and threw it over the trees, yelling after it. The yell turned into a throaty, agonized moan of sorrow as he fell to his knees, head buried in his hands. |
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| Spectre | Sun Apr 11, 2010 2:25 am Post #2 |
 
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“Pay-out pay-out Pa~a~y-out!” The red-clad merc sang lightly, though a bit off-key as he walked forward, his two blades in their place on his back and an unmistakable happy expression in his eyes, since, after all, his face couldn’t really be seen. He had just succeeded in another kill, and with the reward from said kill, he would surely be able to get the new masterwork Repeating Crossbow he had his eyes on. Oh, yeah, all he had to do was get back to his “client’s” place back in Cascadia, and he would be set for the next hundred or so kills… Yep, just needed to get back to the floating city in the sky… Which was… somewhere… “Crap!” He exclaimed, gripping his head at the sudden realization that he was lost. He had no clue where he was heading. He looked around, nothing but trees, trees, and more, guess what, trees! His hands drooped, his frustration rising as the narrative voice in his head returned with his sudden aggravation. “Shut up, we all know you’re there!” Nobody was around, he was simply shouting into the air, wishing so much that he could kill his mysterious narrative voice. He planted his hand firmly on his face, his attention soon drawn from his own psychotic rants at the sound of some rather loud and pathetic moaning off in the distance. An obvious thought quickly ran into Wade’s mind, this could be either the aggravatred groans of somebody who knew where they were going and was simply in an unimaginable amount of pain OR it was somebody completely and utterly lost the Deadpool would kill without second hesitation for doing little more than distracting him away from what could easily have been a path to payment! “For once, we’re in agreement.” He said to the voice that was not there before sprinting off, each of his katana in a hand as he rushed towards where he thought the sound had come from. He came to a bit of a clearing, somebody on their knees on the ground as he waved his swords about madly, before sheathing them at the apparent lack of anybody to kill. “Hi, I’m Deadpool and for the right price I can get you where you need! Payment an come in the form of money, items, or for a special limited-time offer directions to Cascadia! So, got any of those? And what is your dilemma?” He gave it a nice little showy feel, not even offering to help the man to his feet, since he was probably going to lop off his head if he didn’t have squat, so for his sake (the man on his knees, not Wade’s) He would have something, anything! |
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| Auron DeBrouchet | Sun Apr 11, 2010 3:13 am Post #3 |
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Auron tensed, hands clenching into fists. Sliding them away from his face, he blinked away tears. Anger was building on itself, looking for an outlet. He was caught in a cycle, imprisoned with servitude. And he couldn’t even find solace in death. Every attempt to end his life was revoked. He moved his left hand to the mask hanging by a cord under his grey cloak. A quick yank broke the leather cord and freed it, thumb and forefinger hooked into the eyeholes. In a ragged voice, he gave a toothy smile. Old lusts were stirred up, tastes buried by discipline. He wanted to make something bleed. “I highly doubt anything you have to offer would be of use to me, jester.” He spat blood on the ground at his feet. Standing, he watched the man over his shoulder, side facing him. Smaller target. Easier to stop a slash, less chance of a thrust landing. “I’ve nothing to give, and less reason to do so.” The fact that he was being overly hostile registered somewhere in the back of his mind. But he didn’t pay it any attention. He wanted this. Wanted the conflict. The excuse to put on the mask. It was the only escape offered him. He couldn’t die, but he could surrender control of himself, refuse to take responsibility. He lifted the iron mask mid-chest height. “You aren’t welcome here. Leave now.” ((OOC: He’s got the oni mask)) |
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| Spectre | Sun Apr 11, 2010 5:07 am Post #4 |
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Deadpool looked, pretty much ignoring everybody that the guy said and only registering a want to fight. That was all he really paid attention to, he honestly had no clue what the man said, something about clowns, and spitting blood on Wade’s foot which really didn’t go over well. The red-clad mercenary stood from his slouched position of utter ignorance and swiftly unsheathed his blades with a twist of the blades. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get blood out of this costume!?” He shouted with a slight cock of his head to the side, a fight was just as well, though not as great as a good payment, though Wade was still very interested in a fight with somebody that had a stupid metal mask and the gall to spit on his awesome costume. “You are so gonna get it, buddy! And by the power of Ninjacat, you are going down!” He made no secret, nor tried to contain the fact he was going to make the first move, which he did. And for all of his mindless shouting, his first move was actually pretty well thought out as he turned around and pushed off a near-by tree, twisting in the air and bringing the katana in his left hand down from a diagonal aim and the one in his right completely invert. He was fully planning to cut this man into little pieces, what he would do with the pieces, he wasn’t entirely sure, though he did hear that body parts were bio-degradable. That could probably come in handy for some bonus karma, and strangely enough the face he wasn’t even probably going to get paid for killing this random guy he found in the middle of a forest he happened to get lost in wasn’t actually bothering him; but in the end it probably would. |
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12:03 AM Feb 10
