|
Post by ✦ ┇ W ι ɳ on Jun 20, 2017 1:37:36 GMT -5
(they're so pretty <3 I'm trying to find a nice one for Arya but it's tricky!)
|
|
|
|
Post by ✦ ┇ W ι ɳ on Jun 20, 2017 3:00:25 GMT -5
Arya Paavai
Arya had been slightly surprised Rhyne allowed her to stitch up his wound in the first place. He had starred for what seemed like forever with those unnaturally golden eyes before he yielded and his dog seemed to as well. She stitched quickly and neatly, of course it would be painful even after the stitching was done so she retrieved one of her herbs she kept on her. The plant she chose was one of her favorites for it’s easy accessibility and therapeutic nature; it would cool the angry wound, dull the pain, and prevent any infection from forming.
Her attention turned from Rhyne’s injury to the breathless Bernard as he entered the room. The man rarely made his way upstairs, he was paid for their room and board and not to socialize with the killers living under the same roof. Her dark brows furrowed as she listened to the man’s hushed conversation with Kade. Twenty guards. They were good, but not daring enough to risk defeat against over twenty kingsman, it was likely more than half of them would not survive that fight.
Kade was calm, but that meant absolutely nothing to her. Kade was nearly always relaxed in a way that only a leader could be. Like a parent using their soothing tones and unphased demeanor to keep a child from panicking. Arya wasn’t buying it.
She disappeared down the hall, there wouldn’t be much time and she had to move quickly. She would miss the small room, it was cozy in its own way, and she would miss the sound of the tavern below. In the corner sat a backpack, it was intended for any situation that might arise where she needed to make a quick escape. Her journal containing old magic and poisons was inside the worn leather bag in addition to some clothing and small jars of ingredients. She placed her favorite knives inside the pack as well, including the one she favored with the bone handle.
Arya hurried back to the room where the others were quickly gathering their few belongings. It looked like Jack and Zehmira had both volunteered to stay behind. It set her stomach in knots, she had no intention of being held prisoner. Not again. Not after being free for so long.
A glance at the faces of the rest of the guild made her heartbeat pick up. If not her, then who? She doubted that some of them had ever felt the cold metal of shackles or confinement of a cell. They were all assassins, but most grew up in orphanages and were too good in their training to have ever been caught. If she chose to stay, maybe she could find a way out, she had always been a decent escape artist. She also knew how to watch Zehmira’s wound to make sure it wasn’t getting infected, which was a skill she doubted Jack had acquired.
“I will stay too.” The words had bubbled out from her lips before she could pull them back in and bury them where they had formed. “Zehmira will need someone looking after that wound. Take my bag, have it ready for me when you get to us.” She approached Ilai, he was someone she trusted to keep her few important belongings safe and not go snooping through them while she was gone.
Arya could feel the familiar waves of panic clawing at her insides, desperate to find their way out and burst into the world. If she let that happen, she would spiral and it was obvious she was not the only one frightened by their current situation. She set her jaw and held her chin high with pride. She would not waver, she could not. Arya refused to be that young girl again, the one who cried silently each night and yearned to go home as she stared through the vertical bars of a cage on a ship that’s swaying made her sick.
This is only temporary. They won’t leave you in that cell, and if you are to die you must go out fighting, not with your tail between your legs. Arya reminded herself firmly.
She slid one of her remaining knives into her hand and stood with her shoulders squared towards the door. The shuffling of feet could be heard through the thin walls and when she reached for her magic she could make out the sheer number of them and the metal of their armor and swords clinking together.
Little bird..how will you fly when your wings are clipped? She could hear the voices of her previous life echoing in her head, causing her focus to waver. She allowed her eyes to flutter closed for a fraction of a second as she inhaled deeply through her nose and pictured her father’s smiling face, the cool breeze moving through her hair as she walked the high wire. Up there, she was alone with her thoughts and at that height she would often wonder if she truly could fly.
The memory brought her back and she adjusted the grip on her knife before she reached for another that had been strapped to her calf. She looked at the other’s who would remain and could feel her own anxiety reflected in their faces. These were her friends, she would do what she could to protect them and she could only hope they would do the same for her.
Let them come. They cannot hold us for long. Certainly not without losing a few of their own.
|
|
|
Post by ✦ ┇ W ι ɳ on Jun 20, 2017 3:01:33 GMT -5
(I'll probably end up finding something to use for her, I always like pictures or fc if they fit closely enough!)
|
|
|
Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jun 20, 2017 7:40:02 GMT -5
( c: )
|
|
|
Post by вlue вlood on Jun 20, 2017 8:02:39 GMT -5
[ pfft as per usual I fall asleep before finishing a reply c': ]
|
|
|
Post by ☾ Cʀᴇsᴄᴇɴᴛ ☽ on Jun 20, 2017 13:59:50 GMT -5
(Pintrest ftw, that's the only reason I could find a half decent piece of art for Odette. It's actually frustratingly hard to find someone average-looking. All of the art is of gorgeous people and I'm just scrolling through them like, "can i please just get a normal looking girl with brown hair please" haha )
|
|
|
Post by вlue вlood on Jun 20, 2017 15:01:38 GMT -5
Ilai Fencarrow
Was this sod's law in action? Just as the group found repose in the quiet, warm congeniality which filled the room, it seemed retrospectively inevitable that harsh reality would come crashing in to pull the rug out from underneath their feet. Did the universe decide that, despite the hiccups, they got out of that last mission too easily? Were the divines trying to keep them humble? Ilai was oddly superstitious in these sorts of ways. Not that he got too hung up on it - after all, the people they assassinated didn't find themselves dead in the ground by simple bad luck, and surely death was just about the most unlucky situation to end up in - but for whatever reasons, these irrational beliefs still appealed to his mind. He would still invariably comment at the sight of a one-for-sorrow magpie, or a black cat. He often joked that there couldn't be many things quite as unfortunate as a group of killers who numbered thirteen.
Blinking around at the little group of those to be left behind, this dividing of the group just didn't feel right in the slightest. There was logic in it, of course. But leaving behind their fellow guild members who were, at this current time, their injured and most vulnerable... the wrongness of it thrummed through him. At least Mara and Arya had been swift in their tending to Zehmira and Rhyne. Right and wrong had no place here; survival and sense would give them their best chances. And, with that said, he was not about to go sign himself up for a hanging. His mind was already working on a hundred ways to free their friends, from cells or from nooses. How to break out from either when he was there himself? The options were not only far more limited, but their chances were also far less probable. Odette's line of thought held plenty of truth - even in a situation like this, they had to do what they always did: play to their strengths.
Just a couple of floors below them, armoured men stirred. Time was running against them. To ordinary ears, the sounds of footsteps, steady but sure in their ascent, were a drum beat for death. Even a mere touch of sahte to enhance the hearing, and they were like echoing rumbles of thunder, spelling destruction.
For all its imperfections, to leave their home was a painful blow. And yet, as Ilai followed suit and looked around for what to back into a small satchel bag, much of what surrounded them did not truly matter at the end of the day. Yes, it was a shared space and a symbol of the Guild itself, but that didn't mean that it was the Guild. They were, everyone in this room right now. Their collective memory and all they shared only mattered so long as they were all alive and together. What they left behind barely mattered at all in compared to who they left. He grabbed, in a few swift movements, the few things his mind could conjure in a panic which would be useful. Money - coins clinking in a pouch; a change of clothes; the dagger he'd left sitting on the nightstand. Not the best he had, but now it would have to do.
He took Arya's bag from her, parting his lips in a search for words, but after a moment he simply nodded to her. The luxury of time to think about words was not with them. He preferred this, though, far more than Jack's soft words carrying the weight of some finality with them. This was not so bad. He needed only to hold on to this until they were reunited once again - and they would be. Still, the collective weight of thirteen different former lives hung in the air around them. All of them had lost people close to them. They all knew there went many assassins whose lives stretched far enough to find themselves growing old. Death, to them, was not a distant nightmare but a dark reality. They sure as hell knew when it was staring them in the face.
"Time to move." There would be no goodbyes, if Ilai had his way. A goodbye made it just that littlest bit easier to let someone go, and they were going to do quite the opposite. It was one thing to follow code and leave behind a member in trouble. Mistakes were paid for, sometimes with life. But he would not allow the execution of his friends.
They knew when death was staring them in the face - but there was also no group better qualified to stare death in the face and tell it, not today.
|
|
|
Post by נσкσмαтσ on Jun 20, 2017 16:38:01 GMT -5
{ Seeing that you guys were getting pictures for your characters off pinterest led me to try and find something for V on pinterest I've never appreciated how hard it is to find a faceclaim before now I wish I could draw }
|
|
|
Post by ☾ Cʀᴇsᴄᴇɴᴛ ☽ on Jun 20, 2017 16:55:31 GMT -5
(I love V's picture. And I knowww it's actually so hard. I was really struggling with what to search. I was doing things like "brunette digital art" and tons of random things in hope that I could find something halfway decent haha.)
|
|
|
Post by ѕρσттεdѕнιммεя on Jun 20, 2017 17:01:15 GMT -5
[ tfw i just now get what you guys are talking about- i was confused until i looked at the joining/character page. did i start something? ]
|
|
|
Post by נσкσмαтσ on Jun 20, 2017 17:15:42 GMT -5
{ Yeahhh I went through so many photos (': I was kinda hoping to find a picture of a girl with a ponytail but mannnn nothing really FITS the image I have in my head aha I'm glad you like the photo tho (: I really like the picture you found for Odette too. Idk how to explain it exactly but she looks human, like I'm sympathizing with her just by looking at the picture }
{ Yeah I think you might have Nerf x) }
|
|
|
Post by ѕρσттεdѕнιммεя on Jun 20, 2017 17:26:27 GMT -5
[ i love everyone's pictures so far tbh ]
|
|
|
Post by ☾ Cʀᴇsᴄᴇɴᴛ ☽ on Jun 20, 2017 17:31:13 GMT -5
Yeah, same, I had to tweak a few things about her appearance to fit the photo. And thanks, that's partly why I chose it. It kinda sums of the sorta bleak life of an assassin and how she reacts to it, you know? I like how V seems so ready for action in her picture.
Haha, you did momo. And thanks, Jack's is great too.
|
|
|
Post by ѕρσттεdѕнιммεя on Jun 20, 2017 17:33:06 GMT -5
[ ngl his faceclaim is one of my favorite video game characters ]
|
|
|
Post by вlue вlood on Jun 20, 2017 17:46:40 GMT -5
[ ahh all the pics you guys found are great c':
would join the trend but also i should not let myself fall down a pinterest rabbit hole haha ]
|
|
|
Post by Rivermagic on Jun 20, 2017 17:50:55 GMT -5
(Too late for me... I've been trying to find something perfect for Mara, but I also realize I can't find anything just right... ;-; )
|
|
|
Post by ☾ Cʀᴇsᴄᴇɴᴛ ☽ on Jun 20, 2017 18:11:29 GMT -5
Lol, join us on the dark side Blue! I mean if I see anything that fits your guy's looks I can let you know haha. I'm already lost in a Pinterest rabbit hole.
|
|
|
ℊℓоω
ɴᴏ ᴀᴅᴍɪᴛᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴇxᴄᴇᴘᴛ ᴏɴ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ ʙᴜsɪɴᴇss
|
Post by ℊℓоω on Jun 21, 2017 1:48:28 GMT -5
Zehmira
There was so little time to wrap her head around what was happening. Thankfully Zehmira prided herself on thinking on her toes. This is what made her well suited being an assassin. She wouldn’t fold until Hades himself arrived to escort her to the underworld. Although even then she might resort to some tactics of persuasion. So, instead of feeling sorry for herself, she jumped to her feet to collect the essentials. There was no point in taking anything to prison, but she could pass off her bag to someone else and retrieve it when they were freed. If they were freed, but she would think about that later. She would have to wear the night’s clothes, despite the scarlet stain on her shirt and the ash on her boots. The blood-soaked cloth was uncomfortably warm on her skin. In the bag went her most valuable weapons, essential items of clothing, and a few other assorted things. The rest, including her dresses and books, could be replaced. And that was all the time she had for preparation. Time moved too swiftly for her to say parting words to anyone, but perhaps that was for the best. None of them were fond of sappy conversation. In a matter of seconds, the room was cleared of formerly strewn clothes, blades, and equipment. Evidence of their numbers had to be erased, so beds were also hastily made. She stood in the company of Jack, Rhyne, and Arya, as the other nine tossed the bags over their shoulders and funnelled toward the window. Kade was the last to exit. He said nothing as he glanced back to look at them, though Zehmira could see a sorrow in the tightness of his brow. Then came the thundering of footsteps.. Zehmira glanced toward the door, and when she looked back to the window, Kade and the others had vanished. The fear bubbled back up inside of her. She busied her hands by straightening the neckline of her shirt, as if being more presentable for the guards would somehow increase her odds of survival. There were voices below. She knew judging by the distance to the loft that they only had a few seconds before the guards arrived. Her attention snapped to Rhyne, who was pacing like a cornered animal. When she looked him in the face, she was surprised to see raw fear. The guarded man did not often say what he felt, much less show it on his face. The rare expression on his part brought up something rare in her: sympathy. It seemed none of them were without their scars. “We’ll all look after each other, Rhyne. This is only temporary,” she said softly. The door burst open again. This time, instead of the familiar countenance of Bernard, what filled the doorframe were the barrel chests of the king’s guards. The one in the center wore deep crimson under his chestplate. His aura gave her the impression that he was in charge, which was confirmed by his walking toward them in long, heavy strides. Zehmira reached for her boot in a flash of movement. Her wound sent shooting pain up her ribs, protesting the sudden motion. It was without purpose anyway, for she knew immediately that there would be no point in putting up a fight. She raised her knife, a threat should the guards decide to strike first. “Put down your weapons,” commanded the man in the center. He planted his feet in the center of the walkway as his men poured in behind. “Members of the Raven’s Guild, you are hereby under arrest for high treason and the murder of countless individuals. You are to be taken to Argelis Ropa Prison where you will stand trial for your crimes.” He looked them up and down with the slow, predatory gaze of a crocodile. “Efforts to fight will be fruitless.” Zehmira’s breath was short. She looked to the others, silently asking what they intended to do. She could see from Rhyne’s stance that he was prepared to fight, and she urged him with a desperate glance not to. Her free hand landed on his forearm. “Rhyne,” she pleaded softly. “Fighting now will do us no good.” Two of them were injured. Their only possible exits were the window, which was too small to be used swiftly, and the door which was currently guarded by twenty men. Additionally, violence could mean the deaths of Bernard and Hugo. The blonde woman paused a moment, her eyes shifting back to the captain. Without another word she tossed her knife to the ground. Swallowing back her fear, she held out her wrists in a sign of surrender, hoping the others would lead by example. “My friend and I were injured in tonight’s skirmish. Will there be medical aid in the prison?” she asked the captain. The older man cracked a smile, but not a friendly one. “That will depend on your behavior, little lioness.” He motioned with his fingers, and four guards came forward with handcuffs. Zehmira stepped forward first, remaining still as they round her hands. Her gaze bore straight ahead, chin held high, as she was led through the men and down the stairs. It was troubling having the others out of sight, but she did her best to remain calm. The pub was packed with the usual crowd. It was silent, however, as the guards led her through the Donkey’s Brew. A few men snorted insults; whether it was at her or her captors she chose not to dwell on. She did, however, glare at a drunk who attempt to trip her on the way through. A carriage was awaited them outside. Well, really it was more of an iron cage stuck on the top of a cart. Zehmira huffed in protest at the idea of being paraded openly through the city. Unfortunately the guards were unsympathetic. They lifted her onto the cart by her upper arms. Their hands were unkind, and despite wanting to look brave, she released sharp yelp as she was hoisted up. Her cuffs were clipped to a slot on the floor of the cage by a chain and then locked in place. She crouched against the bars as the others were shoved in as well. Without realizing it, she found herself looking to the rooftops. Part of her wished the crew would come swooping down from all sides, slicing and downing the guards in a few practiced swings. But no such rescue effort would happen. As far she knew, there would be no possible way to free her. The guild and its sponsors could decide that it was not worth the risk of saving four of their numbers. Perhaps Rhyne was right to be afraid. Perhaps their fates had been decided the moment guards stormed the tavern. She clutched the cool links of the chain between her fingers, squeezing until her skin turned white. “They’ll come for us,” she said softly. It would become her mantra as the cart lurched through the darkened city streets. They’ll come for us. They’ll come for us. We will not be abandoned.
|
|
|
Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Jun 21, 2017 6:53:39 GMT -5
( :c )
|
|
|
Post by ѕρσттεdѕнιммεя on Jun 21, 2017 11:57:31 GMT -5
[ ohhhh my heart for these four. and everyone. ahhhhhhhh. it hurts for them- ]
|
|
|
Post by ѕρσттεdѕнιммεя on Jun 21, 2017 12:45:55 GMT -5
Jack Minett "If you threaten a single wolf, be wary of how you treat it, for you don't know the pack of which it belongs to." - x - While he stayed laying for a while, when he felt the cookie within his hand, his smile grew a little. Lifting it up to his lips, the twenty-seven year old sat up and looked down at V, a gentle look in his eyes and he pushed up his hat and looked down at her. "Thanks, lass. Best be on your way now. Take me sword with you, eh? That's all I care about. My sword. The rest of it I can make or come across again."
Jack simply ate his cookie, looking over at Rhyne, silent as he moved around like an animal. The way he acted did not concern nor scare him at all, being that of one who mastered dyerre magic, so any animalistic reaction only made him a little more calm. Canines were the animals that he had fully mastered and felt close to, so the fact that he was more like a wolf than a man only seemed to make Jack feel a little more at ease. Funny how he ended up training to shift into a horse instead of a wolf, like he had originally planned, however... things had changed and he trained to be a stallion instead.
Finishing his cookie was the only thing that his mind was focused on, blocking out any other event going on. To put it simply, he was terrified. Despite it not exactly being a smart thing, he moved to put a hand on Rhyne's shoulder gently and offer a bit of the cookie. "Yer gonna end up walkin' t'rough t'e floor, lad. Focus on bitin' inta t'is instead. It'll help a 'lil." His mismatched eyes went to the door and he felt like a trapped animal, cornered. He would not fight. He would not fight, that would be bad. Simply give himself up and wait for the chance to escape. "Jus' so ya know, it'd be not t'e brightest idea te t'ink t'at we'd leave ya. We're a guild, somet'in' like what I'd call a family. No matter what, we won't leave ya. T'ere be Zehmira, Arya, me and yerself, lad. I'll die 'fore I let ye be left behind."
Perhaps it was maybe wanting to have some form of comfort of the others being there with him, to not have to face this alone at all. Jack, despite this, however, moved back up to his bed and pulled his hat back down over his face as the guards came bursting in. Terror clawed in his chest, he could feel his heart pounding against his chest, adrenaline running through his veins. Every part of him told him to jump down and fight, protect his home and what was left of his guild that was with him in this very room.
Eyes closed, he just focused on his breathing, his arm over his stomach area. No need for fear now, even if it was completely natural. He had to show to be strong, right? That's what he was supposed to do. That was his thing. He seemed way too calm in most situations and probably would always be. He had to control his breathing and just... continue to smile.
"Ah, by sure Jesus, ya caught me lads. Finally caught up te t'e masterminds, eh? Hats off te ye fer comin' t'is far!" Jack slowly sat up and tipped his hat back a little so that his mismatched eyes could go over every man in the room. There was this smile on his lips that couldn't exactly be called friendly, nor comforting. More like a fox's sly grin, a dark look coming over his eyes as he saw them approach Zehmira. "Aye, ye might want te be careful who ye shackle first. Hurt her and I'll stop yer heart with jus' one t'ought." Make them unaware of which magic he excelled in. His eyes went over the other two, focusing down on Rhyne. Jumping down, he moved over to the other, standing in front of him more of the sake of the guards than the man himself. "Now, dashin' as ye look in t'ose t'ere uniforms, yer still people. Do not hurt t'em, unless ye got proff t'at we did anyt'in'."
Glancing back at Rhyne for a second, warmth filled his gaze again. 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. The words never left his mouth and he was barely trained in ataima, so it was mostly just a thought in hopes that Rhyne could here him. Do not fight. Please, fr the sake of you gettin' out without much harm. Do not fight them.
Taking in a deep breath, he looked away with his smile and cheerfully (seemingly) held out his wrists with a small chuckle. "Well? Ye caught me, didn't 'cha? Go on, shackle me!" Those words sounded much more confident and steady than what he actually felt. But that was the thing with Jack. It was hard to tell when he was anything but amused or happy and he liked to keep it that way. "Name's Sean Williams, if ye wanted te know me name. Grew up in Ireland, a wee bit away from Dublin, ye know. Beautiful place te live." Never his real name. His accent was extremely thick and his voice much different from his usual voice tone, giving them his best at trying to make sure they didn't actually know him one bit.
Mismatched eyes focused on the carriage outside as he was brought out, behind Zehmira. Blinking away the fear and a bit of humiliation, the only thing he could do was focus on keeping that smile up on his lips and make it as comforting as possible. He felt a twinge of a feeling that made him want to knee those guards where the sun don't shine when he heard Zehmira yelp a little. This guild meant everything to him along with everyone within it. He found himself being within the caged cart of his impending doom and moved to be placed directly by the other master of dyerre.
Smiling genuinely, he made sure to try and be as comforting as possible. Her quiet words made him move his hands over to hers, the touch warm and gentle. "Aye, that they will. They won't leave us an' we all know that. Just put on a show for these people, make them confused on who we really are." Jack's words were extremely low, and for that matter, extremely quiet, barely passing his lips as a sound at all. A blue and brown eye focused on Rhyne and Arya.
No matter what would happen, surely they'd all be there for each other. Jack would make sure that when the guild came, the others would get out first. That was his nature, after all. Jackaboy 'ere will protect you. I promise, was a thought that crossed his mind as he thought of each of the others, his gaze traveling between the others slowly.
This wasn't going to be the end of them, because if rescue didn't come... all hell would break lose because Jack wouldn't let the other three, nor himself, die like that. And you would most definitely know that he'd be after the rest of the guild for not holding up their promise. Such thoughts were merely a "what if" in his mind and he didn't like thinking them at all. Just focus on keeping calm and putting up a smile for the others, Jackaboy. Stay strong for them, he could almost imagine Zahra's voice telling him those exact words.
"So... any of ye wanna hear a joke?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
Post by ѕρσттεdѕнιммεя on Jun 21, 2017 12:54:44 GMT -5
[ thank you. i'm glad that you like him. <3 i'm just waiting for him to flirt with the guards bc i'm not sure how everyone's mood is currently and if someone's panicky, jack's not going to focus on flirting and instead will try to calm the others down. now. that being said. once he's in a cell, he will flirt literally with everyone. straight or not, he's going to flirt. after all, he is in the position of the flirt. ]
|
|
|
Post by вlue вlood on Jun 21, 2017 13:08:31 GMT -5
[ bless u jack <3
i've never been more excited to see a group of folks in a cell lmao ]
|
|
|
Post by נσкσмαтσ on Jun 21, 2017 13:27:42 GMT -5
{ Jack makes my heart melt this boi <3 His accent too <3 So lovable }
|
|
|
Post by ѕρσттεdѕнιммεя on Jun 21, 2017 13:35:09 GMT -5
[ the more nervous or upset he is, the stronger his accent will become. i'm glad you guys like him. ]
|
|