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| jailbreak; (For Alexandros) | |
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| Topic Started: Nov 24 2011, 02:57 AM (570 Views) | |
| Cricket | Nov 24 2011, 02:57 AM Post #1 |
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if love is a labor I'll slave 'til the end
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Hugo’s black fur was matted with mud and blood, a broken arrow shaft sticking ominously out of her shoulder- the wound smelled of puss, and the mutt was sure it was infected, but he couldn’t find the time to worry about such things. Instead he approached a woman in the streets <....Alexandros, I need to find him. Do you know the way?> The woman in question looked torn between fear and astonishment before she pointed a shaky hand down the road. The dog lowered his head and trotted in the way she’d pointed- the city smells were overwhelming, they mad it impossible to search for just one person, so he took to asking directions at every fork in the road. Thus far he had been lead in circles by people who, meaning well merely guessed at which pathway to send him down. It was understandable, of course, they were approached but an animal and asked directions, but the grimm was growing increasingly frustrated. He jumped a fence, ignoring the throbbing in his shoulder as he pet his front feet on a stable door and nudged the lock up. His fool proof intention, of course, was to locate Spot at one of the large noble houses. He grunted in dismay at another wrong house, moving to the next on and the next- his bones were heavy with exhaustion and a growing sense of failure. What if he was too late? What if she died in that prison, alone, in the dark and the stale air? His paws stopped at the next stable and he rose onto his back legs, nudging the door but growled at finding it locked. Instead he moved around it, nose to the outer wall of the stable, ears laid back. They perked, however, as a very very familiar scent reached his nose. He darted away suddenly, he had all his faith in that calling card, all his previous urgency returned as he paced the lawn. It had grown dark turning his search for the correct dwelling, late, even, and it took him a moment to decide his course of action. He could charge the door, of course, but what if there were servants waiting to cast him out before he could lay eyes on Alexandros? No, such bullheaded techniques would do no good right now. Instead he sat down right in front of the door and started to bark as loudly as he could, scratching it. he grew impatient quickly, however, and tilted his head a bit to howl at it before he scratched again. <WAKE UP!> The impatient mutt finally screamed in telepathy, so loud it would at least tickle the minds of all those in the house. |
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| Alexandros | Nov 24 2011, 03:26 AM Post #2 |
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One-Liner Wonder
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The yammering and howling was having an effect in the house, so that the maids huddled in the entryway talking in low fearful tones until the matron herself came rushing down the stairs, pushing aside the staff as she made her way to the middle of the hall. "What is the meaning of this?! What is all that noise?!" The men and women dithered hopelessly as the racket grew, none of them able to give much of a straight answer, huddling together like sheep as the woman peered out of the window, scowling at the shape of an enormous dog apparently trying to get into the stable. "By the gods..." The sound of a metal clanging made her turn finally, her son frowning with eyes lost in thought walking right through the hall, ignoring the lot of them, wearing that ridiculous apron and thick gloves, the goggles dangling around his neck. She found her gaze lingering on that hand again, a touch of anger tickling. "Alexandros." He kept walking. "Alex!" Still going. "Alexandros Leftelias Evangelos Elias Phloropoulos!" Alex started, glancing around at the woman standing with her hands on her hips, chin raised, all regal air and quite obviously noble. "Good evening, mother." He cast his eyes around the room, one brow raising just so. "Is there a problem? I didn't burn a hole in the floor this time so whatever it is, it wasn't my fault." The frown continued and he sighed, pulling the apron off and throwing it over the back of one of the chairs against the wall. "What's with the noise?" "You should go and see to it, don't you think? It's upsetting the servants. Just scare it off." He made a slightly uncomfortable noise, then moved to the door, unlatching it, and on second thoughts, grabbing the sword-breaker hanging on the rack beside it, belting it on hurriedly. The night air was cool, refreshing after the stuffy confines of his rooms, the smell of something metallic and burnt hanging about his clothes still as he stepped out towards the sound, now mingled with the whinnying of Spot in the stable. "Hey!" He rested one hand on the pommel of the weapon, passing the side of the house to where it joined the stables, then stopped, dropping his hand away from his hip as he recognized the big hound making all the racket. "Hugo? What are you doing here? How did you..? Nevermind that, what's going on?" |
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| Cricket | Nov 24 2011, 03:53 AM Post #3 |
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if love is a labor I'll slave 'til the end
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Hugo was giving his racket all it was worth, baying with all the volume he could muster and scraping at the door, growling and snarling. He wanted to scare the animals inside, wanted their panic to draw more attention in the hopes of being noticed by the one human he knew would help. He stopped calling though, head bowing a moment as he took a deep breath, lifting his face once more but no sound came. At that precise moment Hugo saw a very familiar figure coming towards him. So great was his joy that he yipped, tail managing one or two feeble wags. Hugo turned and rushed him, ears back, a look of grave upset on the typically cool tempered animal, growling even as he said through telepathy. <We have to leave NOW!> His voice was a merciless roar in Alexandros’ mind. The arrow that jutted from his shoulder was ominous as he turned, pacing before Alexandros no doubt giving the other a good view of the wound even in the darkness. <Persephone is in prison- framed for theft! Do you know what they do the thieves, Alexandros?> The dogs vicious yelling stopped, pawing the door again, <It was the same guard we fought with before, do you remember? Come on- Open this damn door!> His impatience was matched only by his fear as to his maidens’ wellbeing and the blood lust he felt for her captors. In Eldahar, Cricket had finally stopped pacing her cell like a caged animal. She stood, shaking instead, face in the corner holding what was left of her arm. She could still feel the absent limb, even when flinching as her remaining fingers brushed the charred flesh and she flinched, eyes wide, staring at the wall. “Why’d you take it off at the elbow, not the wrist?” One sentry inquired, standing just outside her cell. She flinched when she heard Ivan’s voice, the city guard’s typical sneer in place, “She squirmed so much I didn’t have a choice.” Her face turned slowly to look over her shoulder as the hinges creaked, cell door opening just enough to let the sadistic man enter. “Please...” She whimpered to herself, a prayer to god from a faithless wretch. But no help came as a shudder of revolution crawled up her spine, his hand was on her hip lips whispering in her ear, “Are you afraid?” She said nothing. He knew she was, after all, and her response be it begging or stubborn pride could not rescue her from the next twenty minutes she would spend in her own private hell. |
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| Alexandros | Nov 24 2011, 04:25 AM Post #4 |
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One-Liner Wonder
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At the roar of the hounds voice he flinched, almost taking a half step back, the unspoken question of where Cricket was finally answered with all of Hugo's anger leaking into his own mind. Ivan. Ice clawed at his insides, gripping and twisting until he finally remembered to breath, coming in a short painful gasp as he forced himself to unclench the fist that had turned white with tension, and dragged the keys from his fingers, fumbling in haste to get the right one and jamming it into the lock, twisting with a loud click as the clasp rattled open. "Your shoulder..." He didn't stop, pushing the door open with both hands, scraping against the cold ground noisily as his thick gloves caught on the rough wood. "Easy boy, calm." He spoke soothingly to the excited warhorse, champing and jerking about in his stall, rubbing his nose comfortingly. "It's Hugo, see? Calm." I knew he'd cause trouble...but how did she even get into this in the first place? No matter... The thought of her trapped in a cramped cell with her claustrophobia caused his grip to tighten on the leather as he dragged the saddle down from the low overhanging shelf beside the stall, tearing the gate open and near dragging the big roan out, much to the horse's displeasure. As he began buckling the straps of the saddle onto Spot, he glanced over at the hound, his face grim. "I'll need a moment to fetch Clarice. There's a man I want to introduce her to." As a side note he added, "and to tell my mother I'm leaving." He reached up again, bought down the saddlebags and began tying them in place, quick tense motions, a brief check that the usual things were there...the medical satchel, a purse, the leather scrip... He pulled the last out, buckling it across his chest, one hand checking that the contents were secure, various tools, lockpicks among them, matches, small blades and vials of compounds... "Come with me or wait here, but I need to fetch her. It's a long way to Eldahar from here, are you sure you won't let me check your shoulder?" He pulled the bridle on over Spots head, oddly complacent as if he sensed the urgency, merely snorting when Alex passed his hand near his mouth, securing the bit, then leading him out to the front of the house. "Wait here Spot." He turned, passing back through the door with long strides, right back into the general hubbub of the waiting staff, few though they were. "Alex? What's going on? Don't turn you back on me!" "I have to make an urgent trip, mother. The Grimm came for me to tell me something important." "What? A Grimm? Nonsense! You can't leave now, it's the middle of the night!" "Going, mother." He continued walking, pushing open the heavy metal door that lead to his rooms, the walls lined with shelves filled with peculiar mechanical contraptions, pottery and jars full of strange concoctions, a long bench against the wall stacked with a mess of paper and writing tools, an alchemists apparatus on the other side of the room bubbling gently over the tiny brazier, which he dumped water on, effectively extinguishing it. The object of his attention rested on the opposite bench with the papers, but first he walked along the line of shelves, plucking several tiny clay pots ready and stoppered, shoving them into a leather satchel that he swung over one shoulder, crisscrossing the script already banding his chest, along with several pieces of cloth before he finally belted on a bristling quiver from beneath the bench, and picked up Clarice, toting the heavy savage looking crossbow easily as he headed back the way he'd come. "You're taking that? Oh now I know you're getting yourself into hot water! Come back here at once! I am your mother! Listen to me!" He stopped, half turning, eyes flashing so that the regal woman faltered, her hands twisting the material of her dress. "For once mother, just let me do it my way. If I don't go, someone may die." Someone is going to die regardless. The thought chilled him, but as she said nothing more, just stared after him with a mixture of fear and concern, he stepped out into the night air, and swung a leg over his horse, nudging him into a gallop towards the gate. |
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| Cricket | Nov 24 2011, 04:58 AM Post #5 |
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if love is a labor I'll slave 'til the end
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Hugo would have liked nothing more than to collapse at that moment, laying his head down on his paws even as he waited for Alexandros to return. His whole body was covered in one dull throbbing ache, eyes closing in exhaustion. He had barely rested, had not paused to eat- hell, he had drank only what presented itself on his strict course. But he stood again in a matter of moments- he could not simply send Alexandros to that prison alone to rescue Cricket. The loyal mutt could not stand the idea of sitting back and just waiting. When the other returned he scented him for the things he’d retrieved, head held low, tail limp as he waited impatiently for the other to be prepared. His eyes were far away and he told Alexandros, <They’re hurting her, I can feel it in my bones...come on...> It was just a hunch brought on by his own intense misery but it was not far from the truth. His head lifted a bit as Alexandros mounted spot and the dog stumbled a bit his first few steps before e gained momentum, running a few steps back and three to the right of Spot, letting the warhorse lead for now. This, after all, was no time for playful races or wisecracking jokes. In fact Hugo was silent the whole way, ears down, dwelling on the unfortunate images in imagination brought him. The prison wasn’t so well guarded as one would think do the the shortage of sentries, both those who did stand at the door were obviously very serious about their jobs, weapons at the ready despite the apparent lack of activity. Any prisoner inside was probably just counting their lucky stars they had not found themselves in the underground prison. Not Cricket, no, she would rather be dead than in that small cell, the air so stale. It felt tight, in escapable, heart still pounding in her chest as she grit her teeth. Her breathing was shallow, a terrified panic even as she sat on her knees, whole body quaking while she grasped at her chest with her remaining arm. From the doorway one could not see her face, merely the tangled mess of short black hair and the back of her dress cut to ribbons by a whip. There were deep bruises on her neck, no doubt a souvenir of being choked. She wished she was dead, or far far away. She shuddered for no apparent reason, flinching at the sound of boots but relaxing as they passed her cell door. Outside, Hugo stopped just short of the prison, watching Spot and Alexandros pass him. He heaved a heavy sigh, the sick animal had lost a bit of is luster but he continued on after a moment “This is where they took her.” he looked up at the establishment with contempt in his animal’s eyes, muzzle wrinkling in displeasure. |
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| Alexandros | Nov 24 2011, 08:50 AM Post #6 |
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One-Liner Wonder
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Slumped in the saddle from the long ride with little time for breaks, the man looked more haggard than he could ever remember, hair loose in a wild mane, his olive skin pale and dark circles beneath his eyes, though they remained sharp, if tired. He'd already been on a distinct shortage of sleep as usual, and now this urgent journey seemed to have drawn the energy out of him as he did, quite literally give what he had to Spot to keep him going, making him appear more gaunt than ever. Stiffly he climbed down, the horse faltering a little then following as he led him to a deep trough outside, the open clearing here appeared to have several buildings surrounding the small well and the prison. He hauled water, filling the trough as Spot calmed, his sides heaving and soaked with sweat, head dipped low and legs trembling like a newborn colts. "You did well old friend...now stay." He wouldn't restrain him, just in case something happened. He'd rather the beast was free to run and defend himself than simply be a sitting duck, an easy target. Seeing that he was drinking, Alex stooped, scrutinizing the prison while making it appear he was tending to the horse, that the guards might not be drawn to alert. His gaze flicked to Hugo, concerned. He didn't look well, near sagging now, and knew it must have taken a great toll on him to run all the way from here, a full days journey with next to no breaks at breakneck speed. Yet he knew should he offer to tend to that wound he would only be snapped at and told that they needed to hurry. That at least, he knew. His gaze drew back to the building with the faintest of sighs, apparently idly stretching as he worked sore muscles back into a more usable state, checking he still had everything with him. They'd walked the last stretch to allow Spot some rest, they'd likely need it getting her out of there at least, he couldn't see it being particularly easy, even should he offer to pay the fine...and fervently hoped nothing else had been done, though from what Hugo had said earlier, that was all he had now. Hope. Grim faced the engineer approached the guards on the door who after casting a look at Clarice nestled against his shoulder, let him through into the entrance where a man lounged in uniform at a desk, a record book open before him. "What do you want?" He straightened a little at the new appearance, a suspicious cast entering his face, obviously not expecting anyone this late. "I'd like to visit a prisoner. A woman, accused of theft, short dark hair, wore a mask?" He bore the mans scrutiny as he eyed him up and down, wondering, before the harsh response came again. "Name in the book, and leave the crossbow here. No weapons in there. Makes the prisoners...uneasy." Alex simply nodded, leaning Clarice against the wall. He'd expected that at least, though the mans gaze lingered on the sword at Alex's hip too, and with a sigh he unbelted it, slapping it down on the desk. "If you touch either of these I'll be informing the Moghul about itchy palms among your ranks." He bent to scribble his name quickly in the ledger. Elias Kalopedis. The guard cast him a baleful glare at that, then hawked and spat at his feet pointedly before opening the door and leading him into the prison proper, along the rows of cells. Alex wrinkled his nose, the stench of excrement, fear, unwashed bodies seeping in, the mad gibbering from a cell at the far end of the prison set the hairs on the back of his neck rising, the soft sobs and moans of those condemned to linger behind bars. He found himself gritting his teeth at the conditions, his gaze searching the cells as they walked past, boots echoing hollowly until they stopped beside one, the figure within kneeling, still. He couldn't see very well in the gloom, and she was hiding out of the torchlight, if it was her. "Visitor." When there was no answer, the guard sneered, rattling the bars with the hilt of his sword noisily. "I said, you have a visitor, bitch! Now get up!" "What's the fine?" "Eh?" "The cost, for her release. What is it?" The guard rubbed his chin a moment, appearing thoughtful, then shook his head. "Nah, you'll have to talk to Ivan 'bout that, an' he don't like lettin' em out without a good reason like." His eyes flinty, he turned to glare at the man beside him, leering through the bars at the prisoner. Sick, that they enjoyed this, tormenting them. Incarceration was one thing, but this? Disgusting. "Give us a moment, will you?" He thumbed a gold mark into the guards hand, the man goggling at it in astonishment. He'd been expecting silver at the very most, and as was such, gold bought loyalty faster than words ever could. As he turned away Alex fumbled in his coat, taking out a worn rag and uncorking the vial, pressing it to the cloth until it was soaked with the chemical, his face hard. He'd met 'Ivan' before, had taken a rattled jaw from him in fact, and if he didn't know better than the sadistic guardsman wasn't about to let the woman who'd thumped him with her walking stick just hobble out after the exchange of some gold. It wouldn't hurt to prepare. With firm grip he swung one arm around the man with the turned back, locking his sword arm to his side and pressing the rag over his nose and mouth hard, straining to hold onto him until the struggle slowed and he slumped in his arms. It didn't take much to drag the now unconscious guard into the empty cell beside the one he wanted, and after relieving him of his sword, crouched before the huddled figure on the other side of the bars. "Cricket?" |
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| Cricket | Nov 24 2011, 10:54 AM Post #7 |
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if love is a labor I'll slave 'til the end
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Had Hugo not been so haggard, he no doubt would have been ordered to wait outside, but with his putrid wound and his low head all the guards could do was aim a sadistic kick at him while he walked past, moving into the block of cells. He was wheezing when he breathed, a light gurgling in his breath but he had no time to complain, had had no time to rest outside with Spot. This was his fight as much as it was Alexandros’ and Cricket’s, dog or no. His eyes peered in the cells they passed- a man pressed against them, crying for his mother, another with more courage sat cursing gods and law enforcement. The cell they stopped in front of was as silent as a grave. The dog’s ears went back a bit and he let out a low long whine as the guard called Cricket and she gave no reaction, just keeping her face pressed into that stone corner, body trembling like a leaf. At the rattling, though, her body jolted and her remaining hand rose, her remaining arm covering her face, whimpering, “No more...” Her voice was hoarse from screaming, eyes still closed as she curled up as small as she could be in that darkest back corner. This was a nightmare, this was a bad vision that just wouldn’t end... Hugo pressed his muzzle through the bars and let out another low whine, but not even her grimm could get the tormented coffin builder’s attention. He pawed the grounded and she twitched a little but didn’t turn. He barked, loudly, the sound echoing through the quiet passage, and he opened his mouth to let out one of those unearthly howls but was quickly distracted as the guard turned his back. The dog lifted his eyes, watching Alexandros produce the rag, and his head tilted as a chemical was poured on it. There was nothing comparable to the rejoice that Hugo felt upon seeing the guard slump in Alexandros’ hold after a seemingly silent struggle. The dog’s tail in fact, actually wagged and he bumped the bars with his head again, but he was took weak to use his telepathy. Instead his just whined again. But It was when Alexandros spoke that the girl reacted. She twitched and Hugo moved away suddenly, sitting at the barred door at the end of the hallway like a ragged sentry, glaring at the wood as if daring someone to come through. He had to make sure they got out alive, after all, they didn’t need two people clustered at Cricket’s door and no one making sure the coast was clear. <They did things to her, Alex.> The dog said from his new position, not looking back. His telepathy was so weak it was like a whisper, almost indistinguishable from just a random easily ignored side though, <I can smell it.> Cricket’s head turned slowly, her breath taking in a shuddering, panicked breath as if only now recognizing the voice that beckoned her from just behind the bars. She looked over her left shoulder- even in the darkness, there was something wrong, something different... She pulled herself up using the wall and stumbled into the torch light, sinking down on her shaking legs as she looked at him with her face unmasked. All that had been hidden by the mask was a monstrosity, scar tissue around the eye and the edge of the wound, criss crossing over what could only be described as raw exposed muscle, as if the flesh had been torn away. Her right arm was going at the elbow, crudely hacked off and then burnt with a torch until they were satisfied she would not bleed out- an she wished she had with all that had followed, she seemed to remember how to speak finally, the whole, human side of her face was smeared with dirt, deep bruises appeared on her throat where she’d been choked. “A...alex...” It was a quiet murmur, breathless, curling her legs closer to her body. “H-help me- I can’t breathe-” Her white dress hung yellowed and torn to ribbons by eager hands and what appeared to have been a small whip, the deep lashes covered her back, red staining through it. Her remaining hand covered her face, as if trying to cover the disfigurement. Edited by Cricket, Nov 24 2011, 10:55 AM.
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| Alexandros | Nov 24 2011, 12:56 PM Post #8 |
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One-Liner Wonder
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Alex glanced down at Hugo, concerned for the rasping breath and the faint smell of putrescence coming from the wound, rancid and festering. He knew he couldn't go on much longer, and silently resolved to put the beast over Spot's back if necessary. They'd leave together, or not at all. He didn't have many friends, but those he did... The shifting in the cell drew him close to the bars, pressing against them as his eyes widened in shock, one hand reaching through to cup her cheek in his dark slender fingers. "Cricket-" His breath caught, and he released her, for a moment too shocked to do or say anything, his mouth hardening into a thin line as his anger sparked into life, cold and controlled, growling like a hungry beast, reaching for the flames to grow higher. What have they done to you?! "G-give me a minute...I'll get you out of there." As his fingers reached for the lockpicks, drawing one out, he turned his attention to the lock on the door. It was a simple make, but difficult enough that it'd take some fiddling to make the tumblers drop so that it'd unlatch. As he inserted the thin metal into the lock however, a clank as the door was thrown open, allowing golden light to pool at the other end before it closed again, and Alex stood swiftly, pulling Hugo with him into the cell with the unconscious guard, his eyes narrowing as he scratched behind the hound's ears reassuringly. Heavy boots echoing the man jabbed and rattled the hilt of his weapon against the bars as he walked, shouting at the noisier inmates, occasionally stopping to taunt and jibe at one before moving on. He drew to a halt outside Cricket's cell, leering at the frail woman with a snicker. Ivan... "Ready for round two?" He turned, startled as with a yell the engineer threw himself from the darkness, cracking the edge of the sheathed weapon into the man's jaw and throwing him off balance, his back hitting the cell behind with a rattle. He stood, rubbing the area and flexing his mouth, eyeing the man with contempt, then turned and spat. It could have been a tooth, Alex didn't care much at that point, he was trying to measure his breathing, pacing slowly in front of Cricket. "Well well, if it ain't the dog. You don't look like you're here just to visit." He drew his sword, angling it at the nobleman with a twisted smile. "I'm gonna mess you up good, boy, then you get to watch." He swung, missed and clanged off the iron bars, sparks flying from the force as his opponent dodged around him in the tight space, lashing out with the stiff leather sheath and attempting to beat him senseless instead of stabbing him. "S'matter boy, afraid to draw steel?" The taunt rolled off him, and he smiled, though it never reached his eyes, no humor, no mirth, just fire. "I wasn't going to kill anyone, but in your case, I'll make the exception." He drew, parrying the sweeping cut aimed at his neck with enough force that it jarred his arm, the pair of them engaging in a quick trade of ringing blows, the engineer constantly stepping close and forcing the guardsman back so that he might be able to swing for him, pushing him against the cell as one grimy hand found its way to his throat, trying to squeeze the life out of him. Colors danced in front of his eyes as they growled in each others face, his heel suddenly jerking and catching Ivan behind the knee, just enough pain that the grip loosened a bare minimum, enough to shove him back, gasping for breath. "All bark and no bite, dog!" He lunged, was parried, and feinted to the side. The tired nobleman hadn't been ready for it and caught the guardsman's wrist, preventing the blade from biting any deeper, a low growl of pain emitted from clenched teeth as the steel tasted blood just above his left hip, arm trembling as he fought to keep himself in one piece. "Hurt does it? Want some more?" "You..." "What..?" A strained smirk twisted his lips as he leaned just enough to ensure the action was mocking, as if he cared to listen. "You talk too much." Alex slammed the butt of his stolen sword into Ivan's throat, releasing the tension as he made a choked noise and fell back scrabbling onto the floor, trying to draw air through his crushed windpipe. He stood for a moment, catching his breath and clutching at the wound above his hip, warm and sticky, making the shirt cling to his skin. He simply felt...numb. With the adrenaline rush, the pain hadn't hit him yet, far as he cared that was a good thing, he wasn't done yet. Ignoring the strangled noises from behind him, he began fiddling with the lock, breath rasping in his throat as he fought for focus, everything seemed too bright, too loud, distracting. The first pick broke, frustrating him, as he drew another and began again, listening for the customary snick of a successful attempt. When it came he wrenched on the door, dragging it open, then leaned on it for a moment. A hand on his boot turned his gaze coldly to Ivan, trying to pull himself up, still breathing, or just about, a sick whistling noise leaving his lips, his face an odd cast of blue. Alex simply reached into the bag at his waist, and pulled one of the little clay jars out, breaking the wax seal and upending a thick oily substance onto the man, dropping the pot where it shattered beside him. "This is better than you deserve." He took out the little book and drew the stick sharply across the back, igniting the tip, the flame shining mesmerizingly bright in the darkness as he held it out, and let go. It fell. The oil instantly caught, sending wickedly dancing shadows scattering all over the walls to the gurgling screams, the engineer taking a step back so that none of it would catch him. Once it did, there was nothing short of burying it in sand to put it out. |
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| Cricket | Nov 24 2011, 01:44 PM Post #9 |
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if love is a labor I'll slave 'til the end
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Cricket’s eyes wavered, something like disbelief dancing in them as his hand slid through the bars, touching her cheek. “I’m sorry.” It was just like her to apologize, shaking and looking half dead inside a prison cell. When his hand withdrew her eyes closed and she turned her face away, misreading his response as having been directed to the lack of flesh on the left side of her face. The whole world was dizzy, it made her cling to the bars still trying to cope with the incredible trauma she had been dealt in such a short span of time. The sound of the door thrown open, however, made her blood freeze in her veins, a new terror on her paled face and she whimpered. “Hide...” Hugo had been ready to wait there in the hallway, eager to taste blood and revenge for what had been done to his girl. Still he was wrenched backwards by Alexandros, the pair of enraged males stolen away to sit in silence and the detestable man came closer and closer. When he stopped in front of Cricket’s prison it took all the girl’s strength to stand on her shaking legs. There was blood on her thighs as she stumbled backwards, coming to rest pressed against the back wall of her cell. At his words she shook her head furiously, eyes filling once more with fearful tears. “Please no-” her eyes had closed, but they flew open as a sudden ruckus broke out in the narrow pathway between the cells. Her face tilted up, watching the two men, stumbling forward to lean on the bars. She sank to her knees as the fight dragged on, Hugo had rushed to where she was and thrust his muzzle through the bars, licking her face. He kept himself away from the battle, he knew he’d need to conserve his strength for the battle they would face trying to leave with the battered female. Besides, Alexandros was definitely holding his own- the dog would have been impressed under different circumstances. When Alexandros returned to the the door kneeling with his lock picks Hugo took his leave, pouncing over to Ivan, sprawled on the ground. His paws rested on the other’s chest, restraining his breath and he leaned down, growling in his face <How do you like it, dog?> His teeth showed before he lunged, but his bite fell quite south of Ivan’s face. When the door swung open Cricket didn’t budge, searching for the strength- when had her body got so heavy? How had she ever tolerated that dull ache in her leg? She pulled herself up though, cursing her heavy bones mentally and stumbling towards the opening, “Y-you’re hurt..” she rested her hand on him and glowed faintly, the bleeding stopping, the pain relieved though she appeared unable to do the same for herself, bruised neck still aching along with other parts of her fragile anatomy. Her face turned as the fire was lit, flinching as she recalled the sensation of the torch on the stump her arm now was, the man’s gurgling screams made her feel a sick sense of justice. Even more was her pleasure at the pool of blood on the crotch of his pants. Hugo nosed her urgently, trying to comfort her but instead it pushed her pain-wracked body off balance, grabbing the bars and leaning against it, her hand lifting shaking like a leaf as it clutched at the disfigurement. She took a shuddering, agonized breath, “I-I have to get outside- I can’t breathe- everything hurts-” There was a racket from the room on the end of the hall, a barrage of oncoming steps eager to find the cause of both the smokey smell and the clashing steal from before. |
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| Alexandros | Nov 24 2011, 02:21 PM Post #10 |
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He felt her hand, small, fragile, clutching at him as he dropped the match, and the pain dulled, though he turned, catching her wrist gently in his grip. "Don't waste your strength. Breathe. In, and out. In...and out. We'll get you out of here, right Hugo?" He brushed her bangs back from her eyes, holding her gaze, though the adrenaline still rushed through him from the fight, the anger still burning in his throat. What they'd done to her... Rage threatened, rising up, choking him until he got a hold of it, eyes like thunderclouds flickering with the impending storm in the firelight. Thick smoke was beginning to rise, clogging his throat, and he roughly dragged a length of cloth from the bag with the clay jars, tying it around Cricket's nose and mouth. Not a problem for Hugo, he was low to the ground, but the last thing they needed was their reason for coming here dying of oxygen deprivation before they even got out. He turned and gazed down at the charred wreck of a human that had been Ivan, admiring Hugo's handiwork a moment before stooping down so that his shoulders were level with her chest. "Come on. Put your arms around my neck. I'll carry you." It would be more difficult to manouvre but he wasn't about to shuffle around while they had liquid fire at their backs, and once he'd been reunited with Clarice, it wouldn't be so tough. Granted he needed two hands to work her, but what woman didn't? A tight ironic smile twisted his mouth at that. So long as Cricket could hold on when he needed that other hand, it'd be fine. Pulling out another of the clay pots he handed it back to the woman, then held his arms out for her legs, ready to hoist her up onto his back. "If anything comes at us from behind, throw that at them." |
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| Cricket | Nov 24 2011, 02:56 PM Post #11 |
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if love is a labor I'll slave 'til the end
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Cricket just sort of stared at him as if not really seeing him, head tilting weakly with the old curiosity she’d always showed him. Her hand held his shirt, eyes closed, takinga deep shaking breath in and exhaling in short sharp gasps. Tears threatened but she did her best to hold them back as she shifted closer to him, taking another gasping breath. Her remaining arm curled around him, sliding up so that he could hold her legs. She pressed her face against the slope where shoulder became neck and he could feel fresh hot tears against the bare skin. Her fingers curled around the clay jar and she nodded weakly, gasping for breath again as she bit her lip, finally whimpering again with all the same unwarranted guilt, “I-I’m so sorry...” Hugo snarled as the door flew open again, three well armed men appearing, the first one swinging an axe wildly. Hugo snarled and leapt, teeth tearing at the mans eyes as his immense weight took him screaming to the ground. Cricket wrapped her arm tight. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest, like an angry humming bird thumping again and again against the cage of her ribs. She shook, gasping for breath still but she seemed to find it easier now that her face was pressed against his skin, an arm around his neck. Hugo was doing his best to clear their path, snarling and snapping her bloody fangs. There was a loud yelp though as a shield collided with the side of his head and he was sent to the floor in a temporary stunned stupor, struggling back up in moment, <Run!> He shouted in Alexandros’ mind, resigned to die in the name of their safe escape. When a guard came close behind them Cricket turned, hurling the glass jar so that it collided with the mans face, shattering. She almost lost her grip, having only one hand to hold him, but found it again, arm tight around him. She said nothing too busy trying to breathe, trying to shake the dizziness as they battled their way through the well armed establishment. "A-alex I'm sorry...I didn't want you to see..." |
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| Alexandros | Nov 24 2011, 03:24 PM Post #12 |
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Aching, he lifted her, so light, so fragile, barely weighing anything at all, even in this tired state, and turned, snatching up the sword he'd propped against the wall, glancing at the locked cells with their yammering occupants. He couldn't find it in himself to feel the remorse or the pity right now for them. Most of them had worked their way in here by some means or another, and he didn't doubt they didn't deserve death, but he was no judge, and couldn't bring himself to waste the time trying to either pick every lock or try every key on Ivan's charred corpse. They simply didn't have the time to waste. He'd pass his regrets later, once they were out. Don't cry...I'll make it better, I promise. Just...let us get out first. Hefting Cricket with one hand, sword loosely holding the other as he tried to cover his mouth from the smoke, eyes tearing, a growl began to escape his throat as the door opened, and Hugo shot forward, pulling one of the men down. What I wouldn't do for my sword-breaker now. Well. Make the best of the situation. The hound's telepathic yell only served to steel his resolve as he loosed a hoarse wordless yell, blocking the incoming strike in front of them, his own blow bouncing off the shield with a clang. We're not leaving you! You're stronger than this, come on! Raining a series of savage blows down on the man's shield he forced him back until they reached Hugo, barely sparing the glance over his shoulder as Cricket hurled the jar into the other man's face, the greasy liquid blinding him. No time to ignite it however, the enemy was already recovering. Parrying a blow with enough force that jarred his sword arm and sent a deep ache to the elbow, Alex did the only thing he could. He raised his sword, and seeing the man duck behind the battered shield again, charged him head on, shoulder first, ramming him back through the door and off his feet. "Come on Hugo, you can make it! We can.." He near doubled, covering his mouth and trying to cough the smoke from his lungs, stepping through the door and over the dazed man, giving him a savage kick to the head in the process. Whether it knocked him out or not didn't matter, it would keep him down longer. He tossed the borrowed weapon down and snatched up his sword-breaker from the table, buckling it back around his hips loosely and drawing the blade with a silken rasp as the guards on the door, finally smelling the smoke ventured in. The first didn't so much as blink as the blade carved its way through his neck, gore spurting from the wound as he sank, marking the engineer to his displeasure, mouth now tasting of the irony tang of blood. The second was faster, using his weapon to block the now clumsy blows coming at him. The grip was slick in his hand with blood and sweat, making it ever more difficult to focus, and he played on it, allowing the guard to believe he was weaker than he was. Feinting to the left he caught the man's sword on the downstroke, directly into the notch, then gave his wrist a sharp twist. The blade shattered with a piercing crack, and the man staggered back, fear painting his features having lost the upper hand. Alex let him go, taking a step back, sagging a little after the exertion and breathing hard, his breath catching in his throat, tickling and willing him to cough out the smoke already boiling through the doorway. Swiftly he wiped the blade on the fallen man's jerkin, and sheathed it, grabbing Clarice and holding the brutal looking weapon against his shoulder as they dashed out into the cool air. |
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| Cricket | Nov 24 2011, 03:56 PM Post #13 |
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if love is a labor I'll slave 'til the end
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Hugo struggled against the barrage, but no matter his size the sheer amount of steel was overwhelming him. He snapped his hungry jaws and snarled, taking one mans leg in a furious dash. Alexandros response did wonders to encourage the mutt, jaws grabbing another mans wrist and shaking, making him drop a heavy silver dagger aand then pounce off after them. His eyes were bright, full of a renewed vigor. <You’re right- we’ll get out! Keep going-> He growled furiously, black fur coated in blood, both his own and that of his enemies, looking quite mad with his wide rolling eyes. He rasped and snarled as the smoke bit at his nose, pouncing on a man who was bringing a large war-hammer down towards Alexandros, sending the man sprawling to the ground and biting at his neck and face, blood staining the floor. He was quite lost in his bloodlust, his hatred growing as Cricket cried out shaking weakly holding tightly to Alexandros, clinging to him. As the cold air hit Cricket’s face she inhaled as deeply as she could, face still pressed against him, tears still tickling his skin as she squeezed him with her remaining arm. Hug was close behind them, darting out, <Come on Alexandros!> He was taking full advantage of his adrenaline, using it to fight the yellow pain that radiated from his infected shoulder. He dashed towards spot, pausing only once to look back at the establishment consumed by flame, the fire slowly growing higher and higher, windows breaking. Cricket had her eyes closed tight, whimpering a bit as her hand found a desperate fistful of his shirt, taking in eager breath after eager breath, savoring that icy burst of cool air that told her they had made it outside. Hugo just turned his head, watching at the remaining guards fled from the flames, his tail swayed slowly, arrow still jutting out of his shoulder and wide red gashes covering his body. <Are you okay?> The dog inquired as he wheezed, slowing from a fevered run to an eager trot towards spot. Cricket was silent as the grave, unresponsive accept for her shaking breath, eyes closed tight though she was not asleep, merely trying her hardest to grasp all that had happened. Blood ripped from Hugo’s form and te deep whiplashes on Cricket’s back the intense smell of blood blinding Hugo, causing his doggish heart to flutter with fear, <Is she...alive?> He asked, pausing a moment as a sudden overwhelming fear. It was relieved however as, yet again, Cricket whispered against the engineer’s skin, “I’m so sorry... A-alex... alex... I-I never wanted..." Edited by Cricket, Nov 24 2011, 04:01 PM.
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| Alexandros | Nov 24 2011, 04:38 PM Post #14 |
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Staggering as they rushed into the air, he caught the early tinge of daylight creeping with rosy fingers across the sky, drawing the dark curtain back to reveal the daylight seeping in. They'd been in longer than he'd thought. He stopped for half a second, catching his breath then continued on spurred by Hugo's shouts, fast as his legs would allow, calves burning with the effort as trembling he stopped beside Spot, who'd apparently had his own share of fun with one fallen figure, though not in uniform. A common thief who hadn't known any better he would guess. "Can you stand? Hold onto Spot...I just...need a sec.." He lowered Cricket gently to the ground, then immediately doubled over, coughing and thumping his chest feebly with his free hand, taking deep gulping breaths. He was glad he was still holding onto Clarice, lest they see how much he was shaking as he finally stopped convulsing, drawing a bolt from the quiver beneath his coat and slapping it into the track of his bow. A quadrello, a homicide bolt they called it, mostly for the mess that it made when it hit someone. Hit and went through anyway. Straightening slowly he stretched out aching muscles, eyes roving the area for the owners of the boots he could hear, just barely beneath the crackle of flame as it began swallowing the building. Nothing yet, but there would be soon. They had to move, no time to rest even now. His side was burning again as he turned to look at Cricket, after the glimpse he'd caught in the prison, it had angered him then, and he felt almost reluctant to lest that horrible icy clawing sensation came back, threatening to drag him under in blind rage. "It's not your fault. Gods help the bastard who put you in there, if I find him..." His gaze fell on her face, lingering a moment as it drew down to her missing arm, her torn clothing and bloodied skin. Spot flattened his ears and danced nervously, snorting as the wind suddenly gusted, bringing the scent of fire. Alex stared shamelessly at her for a moment, drinking her in, the slightest touch of horror at the sight of the girl, broken and violated before him like hot needles to his insides, no words would come out but, "why?!" His grip on Clarice tightened until he thought she might break, trembling. I'll kill them, and then mutilate their corpses so badly there won't be enough to fucking IDENTIFY them from! The word sprang into life before he could even think on the action, he threw his head back and loosed an unintelligible word, the wind dying down to nothing and leaving the crackle of flames as the only music for them, and his rasping breath as he stood head lowered, hair shielding his face. It began with horses a street over screaming, the sky gradually darkening as the wind began to howl, an unearthly shriek that rose and slammed into the carts, pushing them like toys skidding over the cobbles to smash against the buildings, unbalanced horses trailing men across the street in every direction at once, tearing them from the saddles and tossing them into the fray, battering and exposed. It swirled around them, the eye of the storm, screeching and ripping at anything close enough, dragging the dark clouds with it as he had called, snatching it from its natural path and pulling everything it carried along with it. Alex opened himself to the storm, sweet life pouring into his veins. He was the storm, electricity snapped at his whim, sapping his life with it, but how good it felt to bend it to his will, to send the wind as a retributional force, to hear the thunder roar his fury at them, draining him and pulling him into the sky. A tiny human part seemed to sense the urgency that this meant, ringing alarm bells as loudly as possible, bells that went unheeded as lightning cracked down, striking a roof, the fire carried along in the swirling maelstrom, spreading out of control as quickly as his channeling had begun to claim him and spiral towards disaster, to a bottomless black pit, teetering on the edge as the raw violence in his veins threatened to burn him away. |
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| Cricket | Nov 24 2011, 05:09 PM Post #15 |
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if love is a labor I'll slave 'til the end
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“M-my face...” She tried to hide the horrible deformity again, turning away as shook, his loud voice made her tremble, his cry if tense hatred drawing a sorrowful whimper past her bruised lips as he called his frustration out in a loud question. The guards were coming, or perhaps it was her own intense paranoia, drinking the air in through her mouth as she watched his face. The storm overhead seemed to come out of no where, dark clouds swirling as his hair shadowed his eyes. She felt her heart grow heavy with dread, eyes staring at the rolling clouds, the wind dying completely and them coming back with a horrible ferocity, Her once white dress fluttered around her, pulled tight against her battered body as her red eyes stared, turning suddenly as the scream of animals met her ears. Hugo hunkered low on the ground, the wind pulling at his fur, claws digging into the earth to hold his steady as Cricket clung to Spot to keep her balance, watching him. Her eyes wavered again, terror spreading across her features once more as she mistook his rage as having been her own doing. Hugo finally found himself lowering his weight to the Earth, head falling heavily as blackness consumed his vision. He was not dead, merely exhausted to the point of unconsciousness, and in his state unable to stop Cricket. The wind pulled her hair from her horrifying face as she stumbled away from Spot, releasing the horse and almost being thrown to the ground by the sheer intensity of the storm, Her body was wracked with pain, misery and guilt, but a sudden fresh fear at the way he seemed to lose himself to the power she summoned. Her pupils contracted, enough to make her knees weak as she saw his potential death for a the second time in her previously solitary life. She could not let anything terrible happen, not when he had road to Ashoka just to save her. She stumbled, taking her steps slowly on weak, pained legs. Her hands found his shirt, gripping a terrified fistful, pulling her body closer to his. She pressed against him, eyes wavering before she shook him. “S-stop it!” She shouted, shaking him, stumbling a bit before she pressed against him, “A-alexandros! I want to go home-! I w-want you to stop!...Please!” She pressed her lips against his, nails digging into him as her lack of balance threatened to send them both tumbling to the ground. She whimpered a bit, holding onto him as if her were her only life line. Her face had been disfigured lng before her imprisonment, but now was not the time to explain that or the shame of her own molestation. She was exhausted, pressing against him, face falling to rest on his shoulder, body heaving an agonized sigh. "N...no more..." |
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| Alexandros | Nov 24 2011, 05:32 PM Post #16 |
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He was aware of his companions but not...there. He was elsewhere, raining havoc on the guards, more than they could handle for the time being, his clothes and hair tugged to and fro by the force of the storm surrounding them. He didn't notice when Hugo slumped, or Spot began prancing, as if unwilling to leave them, though his flattened ears and the way his eyes rolled, he was ready to bolt at any second, breathing short sharp breaths of panic, still trying to shield the hound and his mistress from the buffeting winds. His face turned slightly as Cricket grabbed at his shirt, though his eyes were unfocused, vague. Elsewhere. His face however was strained about the eyes, contorted with rage as he let the elements govern him, whispering, "I shall make them suffer, for what they have done." Her lips pressing roughly against his was enough to make his concentration waver and snap, the channel closing as suddenly as he'd opened, any control over the wailing winds he'd had before now gone completely, sucked back into himself. For a moment it seemed like he would fall, struggling to stay upright as all the pain and now the great weight of fatigue crashed down onto his shoulders again, too tired to care that he'd lost it, or the current consequences. No doubt they'd catch him up eventually. His face felt numb, an odd sensation, like his body wasn't quite his own, the skin didn't fit properly and his movements were awkward, clumsy, like a child learning to walk. "Sssspot...down." The horse stopped dancing, the hand that slapped down on his flank bringing some comfort as he obeyed the easy command, kneeling so that he could assist Cricket in getting up into the saddle, gaze flicking to Hugo. More problematic, he didn't think Spot could bear the weight of all three of them. Still, it was worth a try. Stumbling over he grabbed the big dog by the forepaws and rested them on his shoulders much the way he'd carried Cricket, heaving the beast up onto his back and staggering with the weight, made his way laboriously towards the warhorse who was still waiting patiently, if fearful. He was behaving like a machine, and he knew it somewhere, but wasn't sure where he was getting the last shreds of energy from, let alone how. He felt like an outside presence, watching himself try to drag the grimm onto the horse. We have to keep going because...the folly may have bought time...have to get out. Have to get out. Have to get out. |
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| Cricket | Nov 24 2011, 09:59 PM Post #17 |
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if love is a labor I'll slave 'til the end
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When the wind stopped tearing and their bodies Cricket almost toppled with him, holding so tightly to that male body, it was all she could do to hold onto him with her remaining hand and stumble over to Spot. She had to let go of Alexandros to grab the fearful beast, needing all the help she could get as she clambered up into the noble steed. Her hand reached out for Alexandros only to seem him moving away. ”H-hugo...” Her eyes wavered as she saw her friend limp, dragged across the ground with all the dignity of a freshly felled deer. There were panic stricken tears on her face again- how many times had cried since her wrongful incarceration began? The panic all around overwhelmed her senses, the stench of smoke thick in the air. The cloth he’d tied around her face before had fallen around her neck when she had kissed him and calmed his storm. Cricket pulled it back up again now, covering her nose and mouth as tears slid from her eyes. She wanted to go home, she wanted to get back to the sea of headstones and her wide front porch. She wanted to collapse in her hammock and listen to the wind play with the chimes- this would all be a bad dream, just a horrible vision, right? She closed her orbs tightly with a hysterically cry, a sound louder than a whimper but not quite a scream, more a strange sob. The sound seemed to rouse Hugo, at least for a time, and he tore his paws from Alexandros’ hands, stumbling a bit on all fours. He had blood on his black lips though whether is was a trophy of his slaying the guards or from some internal injury was not quite clear. He had to steps of a drunk man, ambling forwards. Alexandros would be aware of a tickle on the edge of his thoughts. some sort of failed attempt at communication from the dog that was staggering down the chaotic street. All Cricket could do was shake and whimper, her hand on her face as if to block out all the bad, all the pain- her body would be cold in his arms were he to mount spot behind her, shaking like a leaf, eyes wide and staring straight ahead as if finally broken down by all that had happened. ”You! STOP! You’re under arrest!” A guard shouted, one hand holding the bridal of his panicked horse, the poor animal striking the air with its hooves. He jerked down hard, pulling until all four legs were back down, but it would give them at least a moment head start. Cricket’s house was outside the city, obscure enough to be safe, if he could just get to his place under the porch... The sun had barely begun to kiss the sky when they made their way down the side roads to find the graveyard. Hugo just stopped there, ears going back. He whimpered, just sat their a moment, letting out a low whine. The house was a burnt out shell, nothing but ruins standing to mark where Cricket had grown up, had lived and died and lived again... Hugo stared a moment longer and then spoke to Alexandros though telepathy <Where....go....?> It was faint, almost inaudible. Edited by Cricket, Nov 24 2011, 10:03 PM.
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| Alexandros | Nov 25 2011, 04:29 AM Post #18 |
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As Hugo twitched back into life and shifted off of his back the engineer stumbled, righting himself as the guard's shout drew his attention, still trying to control his horse. It would give them time alright, though not just for them to run. Red mist clouded his vision and he raised Clarice with a shout, spanning her then pulling his finger down hard on the trigger, the bolt whistling from the catch. The force of the quadrello tore right through the mans chest and threw him from the saddle with a light spray of gore, the horse still dancing until it finally bolted in fear, the master's grip gone. Slapping a second bolt into the track and spanning it with a click, Alex strode back to the horse with renewed vigor, climbing up and ignoring the stab of pain from his side, one arm folding around the woman as he urged Spot with his knees to up and move, going slow enough that Hugo could keep pace with them in his injured state, the crossbow resting on his thigh. ~~~ Alex stared blankly at the remains of what was one Cricket's house, barely comprehending now, too exhausted to, even his grip around her waist slack. Hugo's barest touch on his mind drew his attention, slow, like swimming through syrup, his mouth too dry and tasting of ashes. He was silent a long moment, simply staring at the house and clutching Clarice loosely, unwilling to release her just in case. Just in case someone tried to take the hard won freedom from them. They'd probably search here, once they'd put the fires out. Fires that wouldn't dampen with water. That bought a tiny spark of satisfaction, a secret he'd been keeping til now. "We need somewhere to rest. Even for a short while. You can't go much further...your wounds..." He looked back the way they'd come, watching the road through shadowed eyes, a great weight settling on him. "We can't stay or they'll find us. We'll go. To Morrim." I'll keep you safe, both of you. He grunted, shifting enough that he wouldn't slump forwards and put the weight on Cricket, then slowly turned and began trotting up the road, wincing with each bounce of the horse's gait. Where the hell are we going to hide? In the sand? |
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| Cricket | Nov 25 2011, 05:01 AM Post #19 |
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Cricket just couldn’t take anymore, her mind unable to comprehend that the charred remains were all that was left of her home and of her whole life. The work shed was destroyed, the hammock, the books, her mother’s piano- Her whole life had been spent in the small dwelling. How could it just be gone? It didn’t make any sense, Can’t be real... Was all she could think, turning her face away, pulling the cloth down from where it was covering her mouth and nose still, letting the material hand limy around her neck, hands shaking even as they managed the simple task. Hugo’s ears were back, breath ragged, pausing and starting to hack and cough. Blood finally spilled on the ground, mixed of course with other bodily fluids. Her started to move finally, unable to find a faster pace he contented himself to walk. Cricket pressed back a little against Alexandros, but she didn’t say a word to him or look back at his face the way she always had before. Her red eyes just stared straight a head, wide and soulless. Her bangs fell in unkempt tangles over the disfigurement she had never wanted anyone to see. <If....If I die.....> Hugo attempted to speak to Alexandros as they moved across the desert. The area was unrecognizable, but the mutt seemed to have a destination in mind, paws leaving large marks in the powdery sand. <Y..you... take...P-persephone...> Finally, after the slow, exhausted trek across the sand, Hugo collapsed beside a very familiar pile of rubble. It was the skimmer, the crashed ship in a sea of sand. Cricket watched Hugo as the animal just sort of lowered himself down, had falling heavy, as if struggling to remain conscious and then losing. Cricket didn’t give Alexandros a chance to help, rather she sort of fell sideways, losing her footing in the sand she just sort of dragged her body over to the spectral black mutt. “Hugo...” She whimpered, the first word she’d spoken since seeing her house. She slid down, laying in the sand beside he mutt, pulling her body close again his, pressing her face into the scraggly black fur she knew all too well. The wind was picking up, sands shifting as was expected. She sat up a little, shaking but she couldn’t seem to cry, “H-hugo you’ll be okay... Alex...” She turned her face looking for the other male with a sudden desperation in her voice. |
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| Alexandros | Nov 25 2011, 05:38 AM Post #20 |
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Hugo seemed to have an idea and Alex let Spot follow him, trudging onwards through the sand, off the road until it vanished behind them as the dawn broke, hidden by the rising heat in a wavering line from the ground. He recognized the mess they'd left behind, the sail that had been entwined with the tree was gone, long since plucked away by the wind, but the small craft was still there, the nose tucked into the sand, piled in a drift against the side they faced so that it was near impossible to see, the sail still attached weighted by the sand resting on it. We're still alive. No one's dying while I'm still standing, keep it together! As Cricket near launched herself out of the saddle onto the sand, he stiffly swung a leg over, clumsily fumbling with the saddlebag and lifting out the water skin, slightly warm and stale, but still serviceable, and the satchel with the medical supplies in it. Turning to look at Cricket kneeling by the hound, he loosed a small sigh, relieving a tension in his chest he hadn't realized was there, and hunkered down beside him, holding one hand over his mouth until her was certain he was still breathing. He'd done something like this a couple of times on the field, once sewing up his own leg. He found himself setting into a kneeling position, placing the items on the ground beside him and casting off the leather bag over his shoulder with the clay pots, clinking as they settled, the scrip joining them. His hand braced on the beast's shoulder, pressing down as much as he dared, the other gripping the shaft and giving it the slightest wiggle. "Barbed." He sat back, stripping off his coat and leaned forwards, placing it around Cricket's shoulders, then began tearing off the sleeve of his shirt to use as a rag for cleaning, soaking it with water from the skin after he unstoppered it, and gently dabbing at the wound to try and clear away as much of the dried blood and pus crusted around it. Don't take my fingers off, will you? I'll need them if I'm going to fix you. He was no physician but he knew how to treat a wound, even if he wasn't sure on the details of what herbs and poultices healers would use to right these wrongs. When he'd done what he could, he took a deep breath and braced the hound beneath his hand, taking a firm grip again on the arrow shaft, already trying to figure out how deep it had gone. By the vanes, it hadn't been a rotational shaft and would have simply gone in and..stuck. So he gritted his teeth, and pulled it out, casting the barbed head into the sand. He'd look later, first there was the problem of the now leaking puncture. Again he took to cleaning it until the sleeve of his shirt had turned crimson, and he cast it aside, tearing off the other one to use and pressing it against the wound as he searched for the needles with bloodied and sticky fingers, then threaded it with the coarse wiry spool. "Hold this." He thrust it at Cricket, she needed something to do, to focus on, as much as he did. It would help pull her out of her shock, or at least he hoped it would, reaching for the little jar of salve. It wasn't as good as a compress but seeing as they were literally fugitives now and in the middle of nowhere, he couldn't see how he was going to obtain the herbs he needed, so he simply poured more water on the wound, cleaning away the fresher bout of blood, and smeared the salve around it, hoping it would keep it clean until he stitched it. After a moment he put the little earthenware pot down and took the needle from Cricket, his face tense as he began sewing the wound shut. It had torn since the arrow had gone in, and with luck the salve would reduce the inflammation some and help him to fight the infection. Finally he began bandaging it, grunting as he lifted the big mutt to wrap the absorbent cloth around his torso, stitching that in place too. The other wounds would need tending, but for now he'd done what he could for the worse one, and set about cleaning the more minor injuries, before tilting Hugo's head and forcing the water skin between his jaws, massaging his throat to make him swallow a good dose. Alex sat back, breathed a sigh and wiped his hand across his forehead, leaving a slightly greasy trail of red in its wake as he turned that scrutinizing gaze on the woman instead. He'd have to be more delicate than with Hugo, but there wasn't much for it. "Your turn. Come here." |
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| Cricket | Nov 25 2011, 08:47 AM Post #21 |
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if love is a labor I'll slave 'til the end
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Hugo’s body was limp, his fatigue taking him so far from consciousness that not even the tug on the barbed arrow so deep in his side could rouse him. The loyal mutt had done all he could, first finding Cricket a savior, and then doing his best to assist them in the battle. Now his bloodied lips were cause to fear, Cricket’s hand behind his soft ears, trying to comfort the sleeping mutt. “You aren’t allowed to die...bad dog! You understand? You have to wake up soon...” She leaned down as Alexandros worked at the wound of the loyal animal, placing a gentle kiss on Hugo’s forehead and stroking the fur back. She had this look to her, as if she didn’t understand. Wide eyed confusion still firmly in place, an empty doll-like quality to her face as she ran her hands over the dogs muzzle. At least, until Alexandros held the needle out to her. she cupped her hands so he could drop it therein, unable to stop her own shaking and not wishing for the item to fall, lost forever to the sand. Her breath was still ragged, uneven, sucking hungry mouthfuls of clean air past bruised lips, the bottom of which appeared to have be bitten bloody by Ivan during his personal assault on her body. The wound twinged, but touching it made all the other wounds the man had cause come burning to life, as if just remembering them. Her hand fell away, knees pressed together tightly as the desert pulled at her once-white dress. “W-will he be okay? He has to be okay...” Her words where full of spoken vigor but the look that accompanied was soulless, an emptiness that met her eyes and seemed to have cooled her previously at least warm core. Her eyes lingered on Hugo, not moving though beckoned for a moment. She pet him once more, as if afraid that once she left her companion’s side he would disappear into the sand beneath him. There was a forlorn flapping from the tattered sail of the skimmer while the wind tugged at what was left of it. The sound alone, however gentle, have started Cricket so back she had clambered backwards in the sand, looking around for the source, her good arms wrapped around her body before finally she obeyed, moving closer and dropping to her knees in the sand. warm desert light was starting to cast it’s first feeble rays as she sat on her knees in front of him. The hem of her dress had been torn up to the middle of her blood smeared thighs, bruises covered her neck where definite handprints could be made out. Whiplashes on her back had made more hot red run down her back of the destroyed dress. Her head was bowed, hands folded neatly though shaking in her lap. She looked up at him after a moment, bangs falling into the deformity that she had never wanted him to see. “A-alex...” Her voice was a little whimper, eyes searching his face for the disgust she was so dreading, her bit-bottom lip subjected to bleed a bit more as she bit it too. “I-I never...never wanted you to see...” |
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| Alexandros | Nov 25 2011, 09:41 AM Post #22 |
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"He'll be okay. He better be. I've done what I can for the worst of it. He just needs to rest." He better be alright. I'm no surgeon. He sat back on his heels and scanned her over, her face was curious, like exposed muscle, though he didn't find it overly disturbing. What drew his attention were the bruises, like fingermarks around her neck, her shoulders, and more besides, the smeared blood, what looked like teethmarks, scratches... His face darkened again with anger and he fought to control it, pushing it down. Passion was all well and good but this was forced, unwilling, and the effect it had had on her was heart wrenching. She looked lost, empty, clinging to Hugo like a lifeline. And then there was her arm..a problem in herself though from what he could see the wound had been cauterized, stopping the blood from leaking out everywhere, though even that was not well done. He reached out to take her remaining hand then caught himself. She probably wouldn't want anyone's hands on her, least of all his, no matter the situation. She was probably revolted by the thought and disheartened his shoulders slumped a little, not knowing what he could do to bring back the light that had been his friend. Her words caught him again though and he lifted his gaze, though she wouldn't meet his eyes, chewing her battered lips. Worry? Fear? He knew he'd not dare lay a hand on her but after her experience, it wouldn't surprise him if she couldn't ever trust a man again. After what Ivan had done... He forced his fist to unclench as a sharp prickling pain alerted him to the needle sticking out of his hand, pulling it out with a strong tug and wiping the tiny cut across his shirt. "It doesn't matter, Cricket. Don't you think I'd have asked sooner, if it really bothered me like that?" His tone sounded harsh to his ears, rough with the smoke and shouting earlier, tinged with defeat in the face of exhaustion, grief at her condition. "You are who you are, nothing can change that, and anyone that can't accept it is being foolish, only harming themselves. You've seen a few of my scars, I've seen a few of yours. It's just flesh. If you don't want me to look...then I won't." With that he stood, lifting the nearly empty water skin and half turned so that he was looking at the small pool of the oasis, then back at Cricket. "If you're not going to let me at least look at your injuries...well I won't push the matter. If we're lying low here until Hugo's recovered, I've got work to do." The engineer walked off towards the water, his boots crunching in the sand, then splashing as he walked right in, ducking down to fill the water skin again. Edited by Alexandros, Nov 25 2011, 09:42 AM.
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| Cricket | Nov 25 2011, 10:14 AM Post #23 |
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if love is a labor I'll slave 'til the end
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The reassurances regarding Hugo’s well being were a relief on some level, but not so strong that it could reach her ruined face. She looked down as she sat before him, fear eating at her core and a self destructive shame making her skin crawl. She felt sick sitting there in front of him, watching as his hand moved to take hers. She was thankful, but her heart clenched as the hand never actually made it. His harsh tone made her wince, head lowering more, a shadow across her face obscuring her expression. Her remaining hands was holding what was left of the other limb. It was an uneasy sensation- she could still feel the removed portion. It was a side affect of amputation, of course, but it made coping all the harder. She looked down at what had once been a sturdy arm and felt her stomach turn over, looking away sharply. It didn’t seem to matter where she placed her mind, there was so much unpleasantness, with the dog half dead sprawled like a toy in the sand, and the dull ache that covered all the space between her lips and her knee caps. She lifted her gaze a bit as he turned away from her, feeling her eyes fill. She pulled herself to stand- when had her body got so heavy? And she just watched him a moment. It doesn’t matter? She touched the less than lovely side of her face and cast her eyes back down to the sand. Hearing him say it seemed to restore some form of consciousness, though that empty tortured look lingered in her red eyes. She watched him move over to the water’s edge and felt her own hand shake clenched in an angry fist before she willed her legs to move. Stumbling step after stumbling step she staggered and fell with a thump, her body striking his though not aggressively so as her arm curled tightly around him, face pressed into his back between his shoulder blades. She let out a shaky, strangled sob then, “D-don’t walk away f-from me!” She chastised hoarsely, lifting her eyes and just shaking her head. “P-please... stay...” These words were spoken much softer, a little whimper as she leaned up and pressed the side of her face against his, half testing half just looking for all the comfort he had given her before. She wanted him to protect her, she wanted him to stay at her side so that she would not have to feel the fear that Ivan instilled, and only the gentle relief of knowing that she was protected and cared about. “It was d-different-” She said finally, eyes downcast before they turned to the side, looking in the water. She lifted her fingertips, brushing her abused lips, trying to tell him, as if maybe by giving voice she could somehow explain away the pain. “...hurts...” She managed again, body shaking a bit. |
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| Alexandros | Nov 25 2011, 11:47 AM Post #24 |
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A small shock and a thrill of attraction hit him as she raised her voice in anger, pushing it away and glancing over his shoulder as she stalked towards him. Now's not the time for that! Her arm around him from behind halted his action though, and holding the water skin loosely in one hand while the water pooled around his boots, he rested his own atop hers, two and a half fingers and a thumb. "I don't repulse you, then? After what you've been through, I'll understand if that's the case. Ivan wasn't exactly a shining example of the male sex." Entwining his fingers with hers, Alex sighed and shook his head. "Don't cry...we'll get through it. Somehow, we will." Turning, he folded Cricket into a gentle hug, his mangled hand stroking her hair. "You need to rest. Here, drink some of this. I'll sort out making us a cover." He handed her the water skin, then moved off towards the shattered wreck of the skimmer and began sifting through, casting bits of wood aside and working at freeing the sail. When he finally got it free it flapped crazily in the wind, tethered by the bracket still and he pulled it across the opening in the side of the craft, then began digging the majority of the sand that had blown inside it. It would do, and if he secured the sail better and covered it with sand...well, it would provide a little better disguise for it. It took him some time but eventually the inside was hollowed out once more, and the sail pulled over the exposed back of the vessel, providing a slapdash shelter, though he was still dissatisfied with the way the wind kept trying to tug at the material. Leaving it as it was he crouched down, checking on Hugo. Still breathing. That's a good sign at least. He just needs some rest. Alex was uncomfortable with moving him but did so, grunting as he strained, the muscles on his exposed arms going taut as he hauled the big mutt behind the sail covering, so that he was out of the sun's heat and resting away from sight, then slumped down beside him, head hanging as he caught his breath, lights flashing in front of his eyes. It's done... Spot nickered from where he'd been calmly grazing at the Oasis and trotted towards the strange little craft, headbutting his master for affection and receiving a soft slap, then a scratch behind the ears. "Sorry for making you run so hard boy...though you seem better than any of us now eh..?" Edited by Alexandros, Nov 25 2011, 11:49 AM.
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| Cricket | Nov 25 2011, 12:39 PM Post #25 |
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if love is a labor I'll slave 'til the end
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Feeling the other’s mangled hand on hers only encouraged Cricket. She didn’t care about those missing fingers- not when she had her whole god damn arm removed for a crime she hadn’t commented. She held onto him a bit tighter, giving him a careful squeeze. “Y-you’re a complete idiot.” She accused, voice muffled against him as she took in a heavy, shaking breath. “W-why would you..repulse...me? H-have you seen me?” She shook her head a bit as he turned, folding her into his arms. There was a flutter of panic at being held tightly after being trapped in a cell, but any sign of panic was overridden by the sudden overwhelming security the embrace made her feel. She closed her eyes as his hand pet her short, untamable hair, silent a moment before she just shook her head, “Y-yea but Ivan’s not you so just- just don’t walk away...” She looked up at his face, eyes getting a little of their luster back and she pressed her face against him, mumbling something inaudible. When the water skin was pressed into her hand she accepted it, tilting it against her lips to drink thirstily. She had had no water since her incarceration, and though she cringed and made a grimace at the taste she was hardly about to be picky in their current situation. She moved back after him, gimping heavily over the desert sands and watching as Hugo was pull into safety behind the makeshift shelter. She collapsed beside the dog, petting his fur back and looking up at Alexandros, “I’m glad he went and got you.” Even her voice sounded tired, pushing the water skin back into his hands she flopped down with an, ‘oof’ and a grunt of pain. She laid back, wincing as the sand abused the whip lashes across her back. Her hands lifted, touching the hand prints at her throat. She cringed a little, and just as quickly she slid closer to Alexandros, staying close to him as she closed her eyes, and for the first time in a long time, it was not a battle to go to sleep. Her face grew peaceful, relaxed, her hair fell back a bit away from her visage. The desert winds tugged a bit more at her dress, making it flutter and cooling their ragged bodies. Rest was a blessing, after all, in that pain could not reach her when she slept. |
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