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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jun 21, 2017 14:06:41 GMT -5
( awe so sweet )
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Post by ☾ Cʀᴇsᴄᴇɴᴛ ☽ on Jun 21, 2017 16:16:50 GMT -5
(Hello! And I know, it would suck to be captured haha. I'll wait for maybe a few more replies until I type up a response for Odette.)
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Post by Rivermagic on Jun 21, 2017 16:18:00 GMT -5
(Well, at least some of the characters will be good to watch get captured, lol)
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Post by ✦ ┇ W ι ɳ on Jun 21, 2017 16:34:15 GMT -5
(flirting shakes Arya to her core lol as do cages, but she admire's Zehmira's silver tongue so she will just watch in awe lol I'm sure Jack will try to keep the spirits up and Rhyne will be cranky and startled)
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Post by ☾ Cʀᴇsᴄᴇɴᴛ ☽ on Jun 21, 2017 16:53:56 GMT -5
(lol sameee Odette's not really a flirter either, way too serious and not pretty enough for that haha. but yeah, they should have some interesting times. idk about the other two groups though, that might get wild)
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Post by Rivermagic on Jun 21, 2017 16:59:48 GMT -5
(Thank goodness, lol)
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Post by ☾ Cʀᴇsᴄᴇɴᴛ ☽ on Jun 21, 2017 17:01:49 GMT -5
(Oh yeah, I can't wait for that. I love some good action. I was thinking Odetet could be in the third group (not the rescue one, the one on the separate mission) but if you need people in the rescue group that could work too! So just lemme know if Odette would fit better in one or the other, I guess)
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jun 21, 2017 17:10:19 GMT -5
Rhyne
The thundering of boots on wood grew louder; Rhyne tensed, bared his teeth, and prepared to launch himself into a fight to the death. He would not be shackled; he would not be confined. His nostrils flared, taking in the scents of the room; of sweat, of blood, of fear. He kept his senses enhanced with his own magic, golden eyes seeming to glow with a wild energy and primal fear. Rhyne had not been raised as a normal human child; he did not have the socialization that was required to build the necessary skills. His only real companion had been the canines that Arturo had placed in his small training room in an attempt to develop his dyerre magic. With canines being his only socialization beyond Arturo, it was inevitable that he grow and socialize with his canine companions. Rhyne was described as a human raised by animals, and that wasn’t entirely a lie. Arturo had taught him the necessary skills to survive in the human world, but he never lost his wild, primal edge.
Someone laid a hand on Rhyne’s shoulder, and he reacted instinctively, twisting away and releasing a chilling sound that was clearly a warning. Jack stood next to him, offering a small bit of the cookie that he’d been munching on a few moments before. The scent was tantalizing, but the thought of eating had nausea roiling through Rhyne’s gut. We’re a guild…. A family, Jack was saying, and Rhyne’s brow furrowed in response. They… cared? Confusion flickered across the man’s face, and he hesitated. It seemed that he wanted to relax, to uncoil his form, but he was physically incapable. They cared? Why? He blinked a few times, still confused. Arturo had drilled it into Rhyne’s mind that he was on his own, and while his job would be to interact with the guild, he was never to labor under the belief that the other guild members would risk their own hide for Rhyne’s life. He frowned; Jack was asking him not to fight back, but that didn’t make any sense. Why? Wasn’t it better to die in glory than to be shackled again? He would not be confined. Not now, not ever. He stared at Jack for a moment, and it seemed as though he was about to relax, but the sudden stop of footsteps had him stiffening again.
The door swung open, and Rhyne crouched low, preparing to pounce. The fingers of his left hand quivered, and his blood pulsed with magic. In a flash, he whipped out the stiletto dagger he kept in his boot, and glared at the guards. The man’s expression must’ve been something fierce, as the guards approaching him faltered and seemed to hesitate. A low, guttural sound rattled in Rhyne’s chest, somewhere between a growl and a whine. The guards had been foolish enough to corner him, and so they would pay. His wild golden eyes snapped to the side when a flash of red skimmed past his vision, and Rhyne placed his focus on who was clearly the captain of this particular guard. His pupils dilated, heart thudding and pounding in his chest, and he bared his teeth. The nearby guards must’ve seen the look on Rhyne’s face, for they placed their hands on their weapons and moved to protect the captain, blocking Rhyne’s advance. The panic within Rhyne intensified to a point that he felt almost calm; there were two options now, fight and die or be confined, and the latter was not acceptable to him. He shifted his stance a tad, dropping his weight into his right foot in preparation to move.
In the instant before he lunged, as his fingers curled around the stiletto’s hilt in a death-grip, a soft whisper managed to break through his haze. He snapped his head around to stare at Zehmira, gaze wild. She was begging him not to fight, as well, but he narrowed his gaze in response. Her hand gently landed on his left forearm, drawing his attention. She threw her knife to the ground, shocking him a bit. She was surrendering? She seemed to hesitate, before she extended her arms and asked about medical aid. He narrowed his eyes, watching her movements carefully. His stance had shifted from aggressive to defensive in a flash, as if he recognized that his best chance was to defend himself and the others – especially the females. The loud jangle of chains sent Rhyne into a panic again, and he growled as he backed away from the others, towards the window. Each movement was slow, but the panic in Rhyne’s eyes was unmistakable. He’d take his chances with the window, with battle even, before he let them place shackles around him. He curled his hand around his weapon and snarled a warning at the guards who had begun to move closer.
There was a pressure in Rhyne’s mind, drawing his attention slightly, although his gaze never left the guards who were staring him with a mixture of fear, disgust and determination. We'll be fine. You'll all be fine. I won't let them kill you, I'm not going to let them hurt you. Jack’s voice. The words weren’t spoken properly, so to speak. Jack wasn’t particularly skilled in ataima, and neither was Rhyne, so the thought was built of emotion and intent more than it was of words. Do not fight. Please, fr the sake of you gettin' out without much harm. Do not fight them. Still, Rhyne understood. He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth hard enough for his jaw to crack.
Shackles were placed around Zehmira’s wrists, and she was led away, shortly followed by Jack. “No shackles,” Rhyne snarled, eyes flashing with warning as he carefully uncoiled his form, still quivering with rage and panic. The guard holding the chains huffed, and moved to shackle Rhyne anyway. He pinned the man with a wild golden gaze, bared his teeth, and let out a chilling ‘back the hell off’ growl that had the guard pausing. “No. Shackles. I will go. No shackles.”
There was a moment of hesitation, before the captain nodded. The stiletto was knocked out of Rhyne’s grip with a painful yank, and he was instantly surrounded. When he saw the cage, he froze, a low guttural sound rattling in his throat. It was a whine, one of such panic and despair that it couldn’t be described. “No,” Rhyne snarled, planting his feet in protest. He ignored the shove from the guard behind him. “No. No. No shackles! No cage!” His voice became higher pitched with each voice. At the sight of the cage, Rhyne was nearly brought to tears. No; no. No, no, no! He couldn’t! The panic was clawing within him, desperate to escape. The burning in his chest made it hard to breathe, and for a moment Rhyne feared that he would vomit. “No cages!” It took several guards to shove him forward, lifting his flailing and wailing form to unceremoniously dump him into the cage.
Rhyne whirled, prepared to bolt, but the heavy iron door was shut and bolted. The sound of the lock clicking into place echoed in his brain, shattering-ly loud and ominous.
Golden eyes stared at the smirking guards beyond the iron bars, and the sound of their laughter only amplified the pounding of the iron door.
The others’ words fell on deaf ears; he couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
Chained. Confined. Caged.
Caged. Confined.
Caged.
Rhyne stumbled back, away from the door, to the farthest corner of the cart. He placed himself in the far corner, curling up on the floor in a safer position. He pulled his knees to his chest, golden eyes still wild. Caged, confined. No escape; no way out.
He stared at his companions, the burn of panic and sorrow clear in his golden gaze. He didn’t know what to do; he was the small little boy again, wailing for hours and hours, trapped behind a locked door. He was the boy who’d scraped his hands bloody trying to break free, before he simply retreated back into a catatonic state. The boy who’d cried for hours, for human interaction, for attention, but was denied and confined. A slow whine built in his throat.
Rhyne shattered. His golden eyes glazed over, and he went utterly silent. He remained in the corner, staring blankly ahead, shaking and quaking with a quiet, desolate fear that had been dredged up from its buried place deep in his psyche.
Caged. Broken.
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jun 21, 2017 17:10:45 GMT -5
{ omg that was so sad to write my poor baby Rhyne }
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Post by вlue вlood on Jun 21, 2017 17:21:33 GMT -5
[ evenin' friends c:
oml rhyne :c ]
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jun 21, 2017 17:23:06 GMT -5
( </3 my baby is so damaged )
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Post by ✦ ┇ W ι ɳ on Jun 21, 2017 17:29:29 GMT -5
(My heart hurts for Rhyne </3 I'll reply soonish! Might make some food)
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Post by ✦ ┇ W ι ɳ on Jun 21, 2017 17:31:30 GMT -5
(did they keep Rhyne chained as a child and when he was learning magic? I want to know this boi's backstory!! ((Besides what you've disclosed in your responses)) He's so interesting tbh)
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jun 21, 2017 17:39:40 GMT -5
{ hm, perhaps xD I haven't 100% decided on it. He was confined in a training room for like twenty years because Arturo was training him hard though }
{ Speaking of which I need to do his form, but ugh }
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Post by ☾ Cʀᴇsᴄᴇɴᴛ ☽ on Jun 21, 2017 17:41:51 GMT -5
(omg poor rhyne I wanna give him a big hug. He is in desperate need of a hug rn. I mean Odette's backstory is sad but dang. Nothing compared to him)
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Post by ☾ Cʀᴇsᴄᴇɴᴛ ☽ on Jun 21, 2017 17:51:23 GMT -5
(awwww poor glow. I hate when that happens. I've learned my lesson and now type my replies in a google docs too because it totally sucks. I'm so sorry.)
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jun 21, 2017 17:53:05 GMT -5
( no glow :c )
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Post by вlue вlood on Jun 21, 2017 17:56:10 GMT -5
[ ugh no, been there glow :c although thankfully i usually get saved now that forums have that leaving the page confirmation thing ]
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Post by ✦ ┇ W ι ɳ on Jun 21, 2017 17:56:24 GMT -5
(lol ya I want to see his form! But tbh I get overwhelmed by them and procrastinate I only finished Arya's because I needed to hash her out in the form somewhat before rping her~
Aw glow I'm so sorryy that's literally the absolute worst D: good luck and don't stress about getting it done quick we all understand!)
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Post by Rivermagic on Jun 21, 2017 18:10:13 GMT -5
(Heheheheh, I just like it when characters suffer. It makes things interesting)
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Post by נσкσмαтσ on Jun 21, 2017 19:10:54 GMT -5
{ Oh jeez...Rhyne making my heart suffer poor boi ):
And RIP Glow (': Hate when that happens }
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Post by ѕρσттεdѕнιммεя on Jun 21, 2017 21:41:51 GMT -5
[ ahhhh jack's going to smother rhyne with his big brother-y love. this poor b o y . i love these characters so much ahhhhhhhhhh i love this r p . ]
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ℊℓоω
ɴᴏ ᴀᴅᴍɪᴛᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴇxᴄᴇᴘᴛ ᴏɴ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ ʙᴜsɪɴᴇss
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Post by ℊℓоω on Jun 22, 2017 2:13:51 GMT -5
Kade
wiIt was a long while before Kade stood. He waited, sitting on the overhang above the tavern, even as the wheels of the cart could no longer be heard on the cobblestone. More than anything, his stillness was an excuse to look away from the others as he composed himself. He didn’t want them to see the anguish on his face which he felt deep in his chest. It felt like his heart was being tugged free of all its arteries and veins. It could not be helped. Because it was all his own doing. He had been the one to make the call, to choose the sacrifice of four of his friends. No one gets left behind. It was something he toted whenever one of them was nervous about a mission. If something goes wrong, we’ll all be there to help. That was the rule. None of them had anyone, but they all had each other. Unless. That was the unspoken word, and until that very moment he had forgotten that it was subconsciously tacked onto every such reassurance. No one gets left behind, he always said. Unless, his conscience always corrected. Because in reality there were countless reasons an assassin would be left behind. No matter how much he liked to think of himself as the patriarch of a close knit family, they would never be able to emulate what a true family had. Because there were conditions. They all had each other’s backs until something terrible went wrong, and then it was every man for himself. They had left others behind when they knew it would mean more loss should they turn back. Many among them had died. If Kade was truly noble, he would have turned back to avenge them, even if it meant certain death. Right? If they were the heroes they pretended to be, all thirteen of them would be caged. His conscience weighed heavy. He felt terrible for not insisting on being one of the four to go to prison. Others were suffering in his stead, and what made him guiltiest was the shred of relief in the pit of his stomach. He was not the one who would be sleeping in a cold cell. He was not the one who would face hanging and prosecution. And yet he had other obligations. What was required of him was a steady hand. He had never felt less qualified. “We should go,” he said eventually, and he pulled himself to his feet. He straightened slowly, like a man fifty years his senior. “The house we aim for is ten blocks south and two blocks east. As I said earlier, it is the home of sponsor Eduardo Castile. He is one of our largest donors and a great supporter of the rebellion. One of you lead the way. I don’t care who. I’ll take up the rear.” And with that, they were off. Fortunately, the moisture in the air had yet to form into real rain. Instead, it clung to the air like a heavy cloak, stifling all the buildings and fitting its way into the deep cuts of road. It was impossible to tell the time, for the sky was utterly hidden. Kade hung back several paces from the group. It was a much needed time to clear his thoughts and get the blood pumping back through his veins. However it was that led set a quick pace. Kade followed a tad slower, eyes dilating as they focused on the figures up ahead. The fog was so thick thick that he could only see the three directly in front of him. The others were blurred beyond recognition. As he ran, he remembered a conversation he had with Arturo a few months before his old mentor died. The man was old then, and he was notoriously bitter. He spent most of his days locked up in his study, where he poured over old documents about magic. He became a permanent fixture in the room, where he collected dust and hid from the sun. But there were some days when light shone through his scraggly, rough exterior. In one such instance, Kade had been called in to help Arturo locate a book. As he stood on the latter to the top shelf, scanning the rows, he heard his old mentor totter over to look up at him. “Kade, my boy,” the old man had said. “You will be a better man than I ever was.” Kade remembered pausing. Compliments from the old assassin were rare. So rare, in fact, that even as he racked his brain he could not recall a single time Arturo had praised him. He was so shocked that he was unable to look down. Though since that day, Kade wondered if he would have seen tears in the old man’s eyes had been brave enough to regard them. “Why?” he had asked. It was all he could muster in the moment. “Because, child. You have the secret ingredient that all good men possess. I might have had all other elements, but one thing has always held me back. And that is that I have only ever cared about myself. You are selfless, and it is why you will be my successor.” The memory was got almost as quickly as it came. It fluttered and dispersed with the ocean breeze before Kade could really contemplate its significance. There was a change, however, in the air. Soon his breaths came easier and his footfalls felt surer. Up ahead, there was a faint glow in the fog. Almost as instantly as he looked, the mist parted in a section of the sky to reveal the distant horizon. The blue mountains were blanketed in late snow. And the first hints of a morning sun began to pale the landscape. And then the window to the distance closed again, as another cloud moved in. “We’re almost there,” he called up ahead. His voice was stronger now. He had decided somewhere along the way that there was no point groveling in his shame. There was hope yet for the four they had left behind. What he had chosen to do was perhaps not easy, but ultimately it was what was best for the interest of the guild. They would make a plan to secure their friends. Had all of them, himself included, been taken into custody, there would be no chance of escape. Besides, Bernard and Hugo would be safe. They would need to be moved, to protect them after the prisoners were freed, but they would survive. These thoughts were enough to fortify Kade. Soon the group slowed, and he felt eyes looking to him. They had arrived at their destination. Kade gave a small nod of confirmation, and then watched as each of his party climbed down into a fenced property. The place in which they found themselves was very private. Ten foot stone walls rose on every side like a small fortress. Inside, however, was a glimpse into a more beautiful world than the one from which they fled. The nine assassins gathered in a close line, careful not to tread on the abundance of vibrant flowers. Crickets sang in the cover of tall green grass. Above, they were sheltered in a canopy of flowering white trees, which showered them in delicate petals. Between the pair of trees was a fountain depicting what appeared to be a forest nymph who gaze shyly away from the gathering crowd.
“Is this the right place?” one of the others asked. Kade didn’t bother to see who. His attention was turned to the house itself, the one to which the path led. It was a massive building, one out of place in the grime and imperfections of the city. But they were in the most affluent neighborhood. Out of place and in awe.
Kade was surprised to see that lights were on in the house. Clearly Castile and his wife were early risers. There was a glowing lantern above the door into the house, and Kade walked toward it ahead of the others. “This way,” he said.
He paused on the doorstep, knuckles hovering above the door. “Before I knock, remember to emulate those fabled manners we’ve all heard of. Wouldn’t want to disturb our hosts if it means putting us out of a bed.” And then he knocked. Four times, loudly, for good measure. It was several seconds before they could hear noises from the inside of the house. There were muffled inquiries in an upstairs room. Eduardo and his wife were probably wondering why someone would be attempting to enter from their garden door at four thirty in the morning. There was the sound of footsteps and muffled shouting.
A moment later, the door opened a crack and the face of an aged man appeared. His milky blue eyes conveyed first confusion, then mild fear, and then recognition. “Oh, Kade Blackwood. What is it? Has something happened?” A hint of humor flashed across his wrinkled face as he asked, “Haven’t come to snuff me out, have you?” The opening in the door widened, and the man stepped aside. “Come in, come in, all of you.”
Kade led the way inside. The space in which they found themselves was a rather small hallway clearly not meant for entertaining. His initial reaction was to find the nearest exits. Old habits, he supposed. The hall was rather short and it was flanked by a staircase leading upwards.
He turned as he heard the click of the door. “Everyone, this is Monsieur Eduardo Castile,” Kade said politely. “We apologize for arriving without warning, especially at such an hour in the night. Guards picked up our trail after a mission went badly, and we were forced to flee.”
“Well that’s alright. I know you would not come here if there was not a good reason,” said Eduardo, who regarded each of them with curiosity and a hint of suspicion. “I always told the other sponsors that the tavern was too public. Something was bound to go wrong eventually, which is why I offered my spare room should the mo-”
He was interrupted by a female voice on the top of the stairs. “I hope you told them to take off their shoes, Ed.” Kade looked up to see an elderly woman in a orange silk robe, glaring angrily down not at the assassins but at her husband. “The floors were polished just two days ago.”
“Leave them alone, Eileen. They’ve only just arrived,” said Eduardo, who brushed her off with a flick of his hand. “Ignore her,” he told them. Even so, Kade checked the bottom of his boots for mud. “To find your room, just go left until you reach the end of the hall, then you take another right. It’ll be the second door down.”
“I wish you all had told us you were coming. I would have had the beds remade,” said Eileen, who was sitting now on the top step. She was clearly as old as her husband, if not older. Her hair was thinning and her face blotted with age spots. But there was an intelligence in her eyes, and a firmness. “And I’ll ask you to stay to the southern wing of the house. Our grandchildren our staying with us and I’d rather you not meet them.”
Kade smiled “That’s quite alright, Madam. Now, if you don’t mind, I think we’ll excuse ourselves for the time being. We’ve had a long night.”
“Good night then,” said Eduardo. “Or good morning, I suppose. Come find me once you’ve rested, and you can explain all that’s happened.”
The assassin gave a curt nod, then led the way in the direction they were instructed. They were in a small portion of the house, but it was clear enough even from the short wealth that the Castiles were people of enormous wealth. Portraits with thick golden frames were mounted on every wall. The ceilings were high and arched It was the type of house they typically only saw on missions.
“I think it’s this one,” said Kade, as he opened a heavy door. The room they entered was dark, so he lit a candelabra with a flick of his fingers. It was a relatively large space, not quite so expansive as the loft but far more grand. The furnishings were simple. There were six beds, six nightstands, an armoire, three dressers, and a door to a closet. There were no windows, but that was probably for the best anyway. “Oh no, some of us will have to share beds,” he said in a deadpan voice. Of course they had all slept in far worse conditions, and he knew none of them would mind.
He crossed to the nearest bed, threw down his things, and sat down. He hadn’t realized how tired his muscles were until he was able to rest. He rolled his shoulders in slow, circles, urging out the knots that had formed in his back. He kicked off his boots, then, and sat for several moments as the others fought over sleeping arrangements and made themselves comfortable. Kade leaned against the bedframe and sighed a long sigh. As beautiful as it all was, he knew it was all temporary. As soon as they were rested, it would be time to come up with a plan. The escape efforts would need to be swift and well thought out. They had a massive mission scheduled only two days away which would also need to be considered. They would need to figure out a more permanent place to live and send word to Bernard and Hugo. But the most sobering thought of all, to Kade, was how much he was already beginning to miss the four they had left behind. He couldn’t help but imagine how much Zehmira would love the beautiful house. Or what jokes Jack would toss out about their hosts. The group did not feel whole without Rhyne’s intensity or Arya’s quiet strength. They had left four knife-sized wounds in his chest. And it would not be whole until they were safe again.
In the meantime, however, there was nothing he could do but sleep. He dozed off, fully clothed and sitting with his back against the headboard.
[ *insert obligatory apology for any typos or errors here* ]
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jun 22, 2017 3:00:02 GMT -5
( ^^ )
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