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 Conversations with Death, || tag: rhys & viktor ||
Talia
 Posted: Feb 26 2016, 11:48 PM
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player: Jess
21 posts

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O Death, O Death
Won't you spare me over 'til another year?

No one expected anything but passivity from her. Nine years of showing nothing but compliance was the perfect weapon. Her passive demeanor would be her ticket out of Hell. When the singular nurse came to remove her bonds and take her to the new crate waiting in Harvest Holding, she was ready. The poor nurse didn't expect her to be so fast; a gift from how well they had kept their prized pet for all those years. Leaping onto her feet Talia struck out with her small nimble hands, aiming for the woman's eyes with a deadly precision. The press of the organs against her fingertips was something she couldn't focus on, and while her stomach turned in disgust she couldn't and didn't stop until her thumbs sank deep. Gripping her skull tight with the fingers that cradled along either side of her face, she slammed her head hard down onto the floor repeatedly. The sound was terrible and Talia's face twisted in horror. She couldn't be humane. They saw her as a caged animal and that was what they had made her into. Feeling the bile rise in the back of her throat, she needed to stay focused and in control. Despite being horrified with herself, she fixated on one thing and one alone. A mantra that played over and over in her mind; the time for shock and revulsion would come later.

Survive. Escape. Live.

Just like she had been told all those years ago; her body was a weapon and to fight brutally to ensure that she came home. She had already lost her mother; that horrible truth was something she came to terms with years ago. But her father, Lincoln, Viktor... They were still out there. She had gotten so lost; she needed to get back to them. Everyone assumed the nurse's screams were Talia's protests. Understandable enough; why would the picture perfect test subject ever act out? If anything the screams made sense, a final break in her quiet facade and an inevitable reaction to the death sentence that was to be harvested. It was that reason no one came to check on the poor nurse on the floor of the stark white cell. The blood was flowing freely and covering both of them in a wash of red that stained down to her very soul. But she couldn't think. Not yet, not now. She had to keep pushing forward. Stripping the woman down as fast as she could, Talia pulled on the bloody scrubs and shoes before pulling her hair back with the stolen tie as an afterthought to mimic the other woman's now disheveled mess that stuck to skin and metal floor. It would not pass any semblance of a close inspection, but she didn't need it to. The necessity lay in buying her time to find an exit and it was the next part in her plan pushed forward by that three word mantra.

Survive. Escape. Live.

If they caught her or found what she had done, she was as good as dead anyway. This was a chance, and a chance was better than being strung up like a slab of meat; used up and cast aside so some pampered pets in their makeshift ivory tower could continue to cheat death on the backs of the innocent. She pulled the groaning, stained body onto the gurney despite her tiny frame's protest. Hefting the unconscious woman pulled a quiet groan from her, weakened musculature not used to such exertion but adrenaline was a blessing and necessity a powerful motivator. My; but she was sickly. The malnourishment wasn't as bad as it probably could have been, but she hadn't spent her life training like her clan and it was going to make her escape significantly harder than it needed to be. But the anemia was a concern and the pain from the last two had barely ebbed. A wave of exhaustion lapped at her heels, the crippling pain from her cramps nearly bringing her to her knees. She was still in agony from this stupid bleed, but pushing through was her only hope at survival. It took some maneuvering but the temporary diversion bought her more time. Strapping wrists and ankles down and pulling the loose dishwater blond hair across her mangled face, Talia stepped back a moment to quickly survey her handiwork before double-checking the binds with a tug. Satisfied, she pulled up the sheet and with the keycard palmed in her hands she moved to the door with a quiet prayer to her mother that it would work. The few seconds it took before the green light and acceptance -beep- sounded were an eternity and her pulse in her ears was deafening as she breezed out into the hall. Out. She needed Out.

O I am death, and none can tell.
If I open the door to heaven or to hell.

But now what? The corridor was one she had been in enough times to lose count of, and while she knew a few places of what lay to the left, the right was almost a complete mystery. She hurriedly moved, not outwardly running but the brisk pace brought her through a set of doors and past other cells before spilling out into the deeper bowels of the medical institution. It wasn't until she found her way back to the darkened room that she realized where her feet had taken her. Harvest Holding. Her eyes wildly swept over the room before landing on a door she had seen the used up bodies be dragged off to. That had to be a way out, somehow. It was the multiple signs that took her a few moments before she could piece together that they spoke of containment that promised sweet freedom and she rushed forward trying to ignore the cries of the people around her. But once she entered the tiny room, Talia was terrified at where her choices brought her. Slowly rotating fans and bloodstained ground, the claustrophobia from her cage all those years began to settle back into her bones at how tight the room was once the door swung shut behind her and locked, let alone when the alarms began to sound. Backing away from the door, she finally felt herself break and her choked sobs shook her entire body; tears sliding down her cheekbones in rivulets before the ground beneath her swallowed her whole.

I'm Death, I come to take the soul.
Leave the body and leave it cold.

The slide down the cold, unforgiving chute was painful and each bump tore a soft cry from her lips. When she finally landed limbs akimbo atop something slightly more forgiving than metal, Talia felt the wind get knocked out of her lungs in a painful gust. At first all she could do was lay there; stars lighting behind her eyes as the world spun around her in a dizzying world. Talia tried to take a steadying breath but regretted the decision instantly. The smell was overpowering, and she paused in her escape to try and keep herself from gagging. Blinking her eyes open, she tried to make sense of her surroundings before overwhelming terror consumed her. Limbs. Hands. Kneecaps clad in bloody bandages. Cold flesh and cooling skin. The scent of death and sickness and decay was cloying; and by sheer animalistic instinct did she clamor up and out of the metal cart and onto the dirt and tracks below before her stomach's protests finally won. Curling up into a ball, she barely leaned over to the side before retching up the meager contents of her stomach. When it finally passed, Talia shakily stood and tried to take stock of where she had ended up before a cold bead of dread ran down her spine. The mines. These had to be the mines. All of the horror stories of her childhood came rushing back as the sound of movement from down one of the corridors sent her scrambling blindly behind a large outcropping of rocks and debris as one word took over her former mantra.

Reapers...

O Death, O Death
Won't you spare me over 'til another year?

rhys//viktor » 1379 » find me!


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Rhys
 Posted: Feb 26 2016, 11:49 PM
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player: Jax
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hopeless wanderer
So leave that click in my head, and I will remember the words that you said. Left a clouded mind and a heavy heart, but I was sure we could see a new start So when your hope's on fire, but you know your desire. Don't hold a glass over the flame. Don't let your heart grow cold.I will call you by name. I will share your road
The tunnels belonged to the reapers. They belonged to the reapers and he would do well to remember that. It was probably why he lay flat backed in the middle of the tunnels. The darkness behind his eyelids was the only temporary solace that he found, and he knew even that would be a short lived comfort if he planned on getting out of whatever ditch he had been deposited into. Already he could feel the mud and grim of the ground soaking through his shirt to enter the new wounds he had earned when he was carelessly dragged through the tunnels by the hunting party that captured him. The tunnels did not care for his discomfort or pain. They belonged to the reapers. And that was why he was going to die.

Mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim.

His mother made sure to say her final goodbyes to him before he went on his excursions. Every time he called her superstitious, that maybe she shouldn’t do it because it was like she already thought of him as dead. Now, though, he wished that he had cherished her wisdom that much more. How many of their clan had gone into the dark underworld without saying goodbye, with their loved ones seeing them that last time, without the closure that came with one final blessing. He was glad. He was glad that his mother had been so touched by tragedy in her life that she knew the prudence of her farewell. She would mourn him, but she had her goodbyes.

Opening his eyes, Rhys expected to find nothing but the darkness to answer his sight. Instead, he looked directly into the eyes of the dead. His body tried to draw in a sharp breath in its surprise, but it was met with nothing but oppressive weight and burning pain. His hands flexed on impulse, and he found that his hand was already wrapped around his knife, coated in a sticky substance that was neither warm nor cold. He forced his mind to clear from the panic that wanted to flee it. He was no animal. He would not be as one of them in his final moments. He narrowed his mind into a singular focus to realize that he had seen this face before… It had been coming at him, the last screaming face in the dark as he had rallied himself in the fight against the reapers that tried to drag him off. The had collided, and Rhys’ knife had found a home in the neck of the beast that attacked him, but they were both dragged to the ground. When his head at his the ground under the weight of the reaper’s assault, his world had gone dark, and he thought that had been it. Luck favored him, it seemed… The knife’s aim had been true, and the reaper lay dead a top his unconscious body.

With as much silence as he could muster, he tried to unfold himself from under the body. He had already made too much noise, and the long tunnels echoed everything. He moved like a man afraid to wake a sleeping babe, and lowered the body to the ground with the same delicacy. He retrieved his knife and sheathed it dirty, wanting there to be proof when they found him dead that he had not given up without a fight. The last bit that needed to be moved from his was the weight of hips and knees digging into his thigh, but it was the pain that halted him. So… that actually happened. The sting of the blade from the reaper’s cut did not ache any less with time, and as he forced the heavy body off of it, it flashed with fresh blood, pouring slowly and new. How long had he been down here?

He had entered the tunnels sometime around mid-morning, taken here by Viktar on another of his hope-filled trips into the dark. Rhys went because it was better than letting the boy go alone. Boy… Really, Viktar has grown to be a man in the years since he first arrived at the hut in the woods. He wanted to be trained. He wanted to know how Rhys had become so good at killing the things that took Viktar’s sister and mother… that eventually took his father… And Rhys blamed himself for any little bit of trouble that they had gotten into since they arrived in the tunnels that day. He had gotten too bold, too cocky, forgetting that this was not his territory, and this was not his land. He would bleed to pay that price now.

Even as he sat there trying, he could not force his vision to focus on a single point. Blue sparks that reminded him of the butterflies that lived in the forests floated at the edges of his vision, falling away life fire ash whenever he tried to look at them directly. That alone would have been distracting if not for the muffled sounds coming from somewhere deeper in the tunnels. It was like he had mud trapped in his ears, and it made it impossible to tell if the sounds were coming from ten paces away or ten miles. If he planned to die on his feet, he needed to get up. He had little hope left for himself, but when he fell Viktar had still been standing. He could press hard, find him, get him back to the clan…

He knew as he tried to stand that there was no way that he would be able to live through this, and see Viktar out safely, and do it all alone. His head was too light and his leg too weak. If he was jumped by anything more powerful than a baby rabbit, they would overpower him easily. He served best as a distraction, and he was one that could not defend himself. But even with his resolve that strong, the first step he took forward sent him back down to the ground. He lay among the reapers, and felt the coldness close around him.

No… No, he was going to die down here, and he was going to die useless. He was exposed and he was weak but he would not die afraid. He could hear them. Their feet fell lightly on the mud and stone as they approached him. He thought that he could make out a hundred, but for all he knew there were a thousand… for all he knew there was one. Perception was becoming a problem, especially in the dark so far away from the sun and the trees and those blue butterflies… Maybe that was his mind’s way of convincing him that he could find some kind of peace when this was all over… Maybe it was his beloved forest trying to help him cross over, to tell him to not be afraid.

Trying to tell him that the approaching footsteps were not the fall of his death... Just the flutter of wings in air and leaves on the wind...

1184 / talia :: viktor / first post / ♥ lauz

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Talia
 Posted: Feb 26 2016, 11:50 PM
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player: Jess
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They were coming.

She knew that down to the very marrow of her bones. The Reapers were coming and there was nothing she could do but hide. Talia crouched behind the rocks as the group of six creatures swarmed from the darkness to the cart she had recently vacated. It took her a few moments, barely moving save a quivering throughout her body and a reedy shallow breath. Her eyes widened, the whites of her eyes visible surrounding the pale blue as she realized they must have heard her landing. Swallowing down another wave of bile as three of them began to pull out a pair of bodies and dragging them off, the sound of the woman's head bouncing on the ground up and over the metal tracks almost enough to make her retch again. Frozen with fear, it was everything Talia could do to choke back the burning at the back of her throat. She couldn't be sick, she couldn't be so afraid that she would make a sound or she would die. There would be no return home, no reunion with her loved ones; only brutal terrifying murder.

It was the second unconscious man they pulled out that nearly blew her cover. The sound of his arm dislocating from how hard he slammed into the ground had her gag for a second, but it was muffled under everything else echoing in the small cavern. When the Reaper leaned down to rip at one of the wounds with his teeth, Talia had to look away to keep from screaming. Squeezing her eyes shut, she shoved her hand into her mouth; teeth latching onto the meat of her palm as she tried to ignored the sound of tearing flesh and chewing on wet meat. In her head, Talia screamed over and over, trying to drown out what was happening around her with her own thoughts. This was a nightmare, almost as bad as the one she had fled in the cavernous house of horrors above. The blood that covered her, both the nurse's and her own; clung uncomfortably to the paper thin fabric of the scrubs and she could feel her skin becoming more abraded and irritated.

She lost track of how long they were behind her; it wasn't until the only sound was the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears that Talia risked peeking behind her. But the caverns were empty. Taking a deep breath, she risked crawling out from her hiding space. A soft shaky breath had her gathering her bearings before she took off down the path the pack had come from. Her footfalls were silent, sticking to the shadows as her gaze constantly ran back and forth down the corridor. Always paying attention and picking out places to hide lest she needed to quickly disappear. It was about a minute down the winding left fork of one of the 'T'-intersections that she doubled over in pain. The wave of extreme muscle spasms making her nauseous as she clutched at her stomach. This was awful... The pain was agonizing; a burning ache that if she didn't know any better she would swear she was being torn apart. This deformity had to be horrific, the diseases that the doctor had found, because she was convinced she was dying.

When she took off again, she was half-doubled over and limping using the wall for support more than actually moving of her own accord. Each twist and turn she took lead her deeper into the maun for all she knew. But she needed to keep moving. Staying still was death. Forward was a chance. She had come so far already, she had to be able to make it the rest of the way. Talia was almost home... She just needed to keep going.

Had... she been down this corridor before?

Pausing for a moment, Talia needed to stop just to keep herself from bursting into tears. She felt so weak, so stupid but it didn't stop the frustrated choked sob from constricting her throat from emotion. Rubbing at her face with one hand as the other pressed taut to the wall kept her upright, Talia tried to pull herself together. This was ridiculous! She normally would never be so pathetic, but apparently that was all she could manage. Taking a deep breath, she just pushed herself forward down the path that looked the least familiar. Another turn and she skidded to a stop with wide eyes, nearly tripping over the person before her. Clamping a hand over her mouth to swallow her scream, Talia blinked owlishly at the man she watched tumble to the ground to join the sea of the dead around him. It took a moment, but it was easy to ascertain that he was blissfully, blessedly alive. Dropping to her knees before him, Talia cradled his face in her hands, turning it towards her to confirm that this stranger was indeed not a Reaper. ”You're okay... You're going to be okay.” Her voice was delicate, barely above a whisper and gentle. She spoke in English, completely forgetting that anyone she met down here would most likely be one of her people on account of the radiation.

She took a long appraising look over him, eyes fixating on the wound with a worried pout. Brows pulling together as she tried to think of something to do to help. Seeing the scrap of fabric hanging out of one of his pockets, Talia quickly snatched it up with a determined look in her eye. Glancing down the way she came, Talia gently cradled his head before crawling down his body to gain better access to his thigh. When she was certain he wouldn't hurt himself, she focused all her attention on his leg. It took her a few moments before she managed to get the worn bit of scrap under and around his leg before tying it tightly. Not too much to tourniquet, since that only caused more damage to the muscle, but to slow the bleeding that was steadily becoming a problem. He had to be dizzy, but it was a sluggish bleed. It would need stitching, but they could make it out hopefully better if they were together and only one of them was bleeding steadily. Giving it one less tight tug to secure the knot, Talia crawled up his body once more to cradle his head in her palms again. Giving him a light slap to keep him awake, she looked over her shoulder worriedly. ”Get up... please you have to get up! I need to get home.” Her Trigedasleng was rusty but now that she was less rushed and more focused, she tried to be comforting to her kinsfolk. ”Can you stand?”

rhys//viktor » 1127 » hey there handsome


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Rhys
 Posted: Feb 26 2016, 11:51 PM
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hopeless wanderer
So leave that click in my head, and I will remember the words that you said. Left a clouded mind and a heavy heart, but I was sure we could see a new start So when your hope's on fire, but you know your desire. Don't hold a glass over the flame. Don't let your heart grow cold.I will call you by name. I will share your road
The butterflies were talking to him...

The strangest sensation was when one knew that they were descending into madness. It was probably the blood loss. He couldn't remember a time when he had lost this much blood, been this bruised, and been this far from home. The way that the shadows danced on the ceiling and the sounds bounced on these walls, His brain was probably just trying to make sense of it all, and piecing it together in the way that makes the most sense. It was a nasty trick to be played on him as he faded away. For a minute, he thought it was even the voice of a young female, speaking to him in the tongue of the Maunon, that strange tongue that he kept being told was a language of the enemies, but he only ever heard on the tongue on the Trikru. That was how he knew it was a mirage. He had never met the Maunon in his life, and it certainly wasn't happening to him in death.

Besides, the voice was gentle and soothing. There was no way that the Maunon were anything like that.

There was a light slap at his face, but it might as well have been the entire mountain falling on top of him. He hadn't realized that he had slipped into the darkness again until he felt those hands on his cheek and he was back in the tunnels. Where were those butterfly wings taking him? Back and back and back still, he could feel the pain in his leg again, and a tightness that he had not been expecting. If he was feeling pain again, than maybe he wasn't as dead he thought he was. Remembering where he was, he made sure to keep his vocal declarations of pain to himself, and used that focus to open his eyes completely. He could feel the strands of long hair in his face before he noticed how blonde they were, and felt the warmth of her breath before he saw how feminine her lips were, but slowly it all started coming together... The clearer image.

Maybe he really had been hallucinating. The words she was speaking did not sound Maunon not all, but they were the familiar cadence of the language of his people. It was dark, so all he could see was the water shifting in her eyes as she moved them about, flickering over him and what he assumed were his wounds, the shape her mouth made as she spoke, and that blonde hair that covered many of her other features in shadow. There was so little light down here to begin with, so he was lucky to see even that. The volume of her voice made her age impossible to determine, but she had to be young, not yet to 20 years. But that she knew Maunon.... She had to be a warrior, but he knew that he had never met one from his own clan that was so slight. He body felt light over him, and his own sense told him that she was no an imposing creature...

And her hands were soft... Soft enough to be soothing under his aching head. A healer, maybe? And alone in the tunnels. There had to be some kind of luck in that, that the person with the skills he needed most came to his aid in what he had been certain until moments ago was his grave. He wouldn't forget that... he started to nod to her question, feeling the press from her words, the urgency echoing what was in his own mind. He needed to stand because they needed to move. And he started to answer her, using the same, barely whisper tone that she used so close to his skin. “Yes, I can stand. I can-” But his instincts told him to stop. A part of him believed that he could feel their approaching in the vibrations of the ground under him before there was any other indication of their arrival. And it prompted him to move.

First, he reached out to the woman over him, both hands, one hand cradling the back of her head, and the other one cupping over her mouth while keeping her nose free to breath. They needed to move fast, and he needed to make sure she came with him, but he didn't want to risk startling her and her making a noise that would bring the Reapers upon them too quickly. He could still see her eyes, though, sparkling at him through the shadow of her face, and he made sure to lock eyes with her. He felt an intensity from him that even he hadn't predicted, and he tried to tell her with his eyes. Trust me. Trust me. Trust me. But he could only allow them three heartbeats before he was moving.

He rolled with her, taking the leg that was not wounded and wrapping it around her hips and upper legs. He locked his elbows around her body to support all of her as they moved, shifting them away from where they were, staying close to the ground as they rolled together, chest to chest, across the tunnels and under the debris that once was some kind of vehicle that occupied these tunnels before they became the place of death that they were now. It was away, and it was covered, and if something did happen and they were noticed, it would provide a place of cover for them to defend themselves. Also, it was a much better option that lying out they way they were, in the open and exposed, near the bodies of several fallen Reapers.

When they stopped rolling, he landed on top of her, and he struggled to keep his own breath steady, forced to keep his body awake as more pain and dizziness overcame him. He didn't have only himself to think of now, though. Now, there was someone else to protect. He used his good knee and his free arm to prop himself over her, but he did not move off the ground. If he needed to, he could use himself as a shield, and if things got really bad, he might be able to hide her completely under him if he was noticed and killed by the approaching Reapers. It was the best they were going to get as he heard the sounds come even closer, and he knew they were out of time.

With his hand still upon her mouth and chin, he looked up, his eyes finding a place through the debris to look. They came, and they came quickly, moving and making those noises that convince him that they were not all man under the dirt and hair. He was worried that the bodies that were still in the tunnel would spark a search from the Reapers of the immediate area, but it turned out to be a blessing instead. It seemed to anger them on some level, though not on the deeply emotional way he had seen among his people. More like a terrible inconvenience for them that would lead to future weakness. They looked and pointed at their fallen brethren, and Rhys could tell that they felt nothing, but to them it was a clue that more prey, dangerous prey, was still down here, and it moved them into action. Before long, they were moving down the tunnels, this time quicker, with the promise of the hunt in their grunts.

Rhys had been holding his breath, and that surprised him. He let it all come out slowly, the hand still on her mouth as he watched them disappear down the tunnel, watching every shadow on the wall with coiled muscles, tight and ready in case it should all come flying back at them. But it didn't, even as he watched it longer than he needed to, just to be sure. And it was perfectly silent, except for their own breathing, when he finally, slowly, took his hand off her mouth, not even sure himself now why he had kept it there for that long. Now I can stand.” he said, and rolled off her. He didn't care how weak he felt, he helped her to her feet from under and around the debris that had been their temporary shelter. His turn to ask a questions. “Can you run?”

1406 / talia :: viktor / well hello there. / ♥ lauz

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Viktor
 Posted: Feb 27 2016, 12:48 AM
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WARRIOR/SCOUT
player: Dani
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VIKTAR KOM TRIKRU



Blue eyes stared down into the seemingly endless abyss of darkness, blade clutched tightly in one hand, gripped so hard that Viktor was sure it would crumble beneath his fingers. Not long ago, everything had been a pitch black blur, yet slowly his eyes had become adjusted, a faint red glow providing hint to barely visible shapes around him. He had studied these tunnels, thanks to Rhys, and yet no matter how often he had gone over and over the map that the man had drawn, it all seemed to slip from his mind the moment he had entered the tunnels. Muffled voices could be heard in the distance, but with the echoing of the tunnels, it was nearly impossible to tell how far off their owners were. Yet all around him, the silence seemed to crush him, eating up the distant sounds until they were no more. Soon, all that could be heard was his own breath… deep and heavy rushing past his ears like a river.

The black shapes in the distance now began to take form and move, advancing closer and closer. The nearer they drew, the more their features came into view, slowly taking shape as if the darkness was being wiped away from each feature, piece by piece. They were familiar, yet entirely foreign. The piercing gaze of his father, the warm smile of his mother, and the shining blonde hair of his sister…. Yet their features were not as he remembered… They were the same yet… twisted, misshapen, their eyes crazed… The trio continued to advance, hunger blazing in their eyes as they picked up speed. Viktor knew exactly what they wanted… what they planned… He knew he should move, that he should run. And yet he stood there paralyzed, feet unmoving, the fear stilling his entire body. All the training, all the preparation, every measure he had taken to eradicate the fear within him and suddenly he was useless. A disgrace. A failure.

Feet moved on their own, slowly stepping backwards. The tip of his worn leather boot slipped on the edge of a metal rail that was slicked in something wet. Suddenly his feet were no longer underneath him and Viktor felt himself falling backwards onto the hard floor beneath, metal track slamming into the back of his spine with a sharp pain. Wincing, he lifted his back up off of the ground, blinking the blackness from his eyes. No one was there…. They were gone. Were they ever really there…? Rubbing at his eyes with his dirt-crusted fingers, Viktor attempted to readjust to the lack of light. Pushing himself back up to his feet, the grounder pulled the sword back into his hand once more. He had to focus. He couldn’t just fall apart only moments after separating from Rhys. Viktor would not allow himself to dishonor all of the effort the man had put into his training. He would not be a failure again.

Yet that’s all he seemed to do though, wasn’t it? Fail? His nontu had always said as much. And he was right after all… he had failed to protect his mother and sister, and they had been taken away and killed. He had failed to kill his father when he became a Reaper. And he had failed in avenging his family by destroying all of the Reapers and Mount Weather. Even with all of those years of training with one goal in mind, Viktor still couldn’t even take them down. Not too long ago, he had been foolish enough to think differently. Without telling Rhys, without telling Lincoln, he had gone into the tunnels alone. A suicide mission, many would say, but he didn’t care. What did it matter if he lived or died? There was nothing for Viktor to live forso that was all he did… He just lived. He lived hard, and fast, and recklessly. He was too much of a coward to take his own life, but perhaps if he was lucky someone would take it for him. Maybe that was the true reason he had ventured into the Reapers’ tunnels several weeks ago, under the guise of revenge. If he put purpose to his actions, they didn’t sound as pathetic. It was stupid, he knew it at the time and he knew it now. But something within him had snapped that day, and before he knew it, Viktor had found himself at the cave’s entrance. He had run in blindly and loudly, with intentions of taking down as many damn Reapers as he could. He’d killed two of them before more began to descend on him. Although he continued to fight, a large wooden block to the head had knocked some sense into him. Viktor had barely gotten out alive that night…. And he was quite worse for wear after.

This day was different, or at least that’s what he was telling himself. They had a plan. It had sounded like a good one at first, but now that he was alone in the tunnels, Viktor was starting to doubt its effectiveness…. Yet Rhys had faith in him. If they separated, they could take out more Reapers. The tunnels took off in different directions and merged back together a ways down, coming together into a giant opening where they would regroup. Ridding the tunnels of Reapers not only meant safety for their village, but for Viktor, it meant one step closer to Mount Weather… One step closer to destroying everyone inside. Everyone who took his family from him.

The thought alone sent a surge of fury throughout his body, adrenaline pressing him on through the pain. The blonde man picked up his speed as he made his way down the tunnels, still keeping light on his feet. He would not fail this time. He would take each and every one of them down. Keeping to the walls, allowing their dark shadows to cloak him, Viktor stepped at silent yet brisk pace as he neared the voices. They were around the corner, voices now loud enough to discern words. Not that they used much words…. It wasn’t common for the Reapers to speak with much beyond grunts and other primal noises… But occasionally they would throw in some recognizable Trigedasleng, such as now as they repeated the words “…frag emo op” Kill them… They were aware they were here…. Possibly spotted Rhys, possibly worse. Although Vik didn’t think, of the two of them, Rhys would be the one to fall. The man knew the Reapers and the sobwe better than any, he could survive. Still… maybe if he could thin the heard, Vik could increase those odds of survival….

Slowly and quietly bending down, the grounder grabbed a lose rock in his hand and tossed it into the opposite side of the tunnel, away from the Reapers. As expected, shouts of confusion were heard and Viktor pressed himself flat up against the hard stone wall behind him. Footsteps were heard echoing down the tunnels on the other side of the corner, indicating some had continued on in their hunt, yet the collection of nearing voices told him the group had split, as desired. A set of three appeared before him, unaware of his presence. Once sure none others had followed, he let out a yell before pushing himself off of the wall, sword outstretched, thirsting for blood.

Killing a reaper was no simple task. They did not fight like a battle-hardened warrior; they were erratic and fought with nothing but thirst and hunger. There were no tricks, no techniques, no strategy… just simple desire to kill. Ironically, this made them even less predictable. Reapers had no desire to preserve their own lives, which made them formidable in that fact alone. Minutes passed before Viktor was standing over the lifeless bodies at his feet; breath heavy, face splattered with blood, his sword dripping from the battle. A grin spread across his lips as he wiped the red liquid off of his weapon on the fabric of the Reaper beneath him. There was no time to partake in victory, however. This was merely three amongst an army. And several had headed off in the other direction, likely after Rhys. Turning on his heels, Viktor took off in that direction.

However, he didn’t even get two steps around the corner when he nearly collided into two figures with a shout of surprise. Immediately he drew his sword, ready to slice the throat of the Reapers before him, but a second look told him to put the weapon down. “Reis… he commented as he exhaled, realizing that under all of that blood was the man he knew well. Glad to see you haven’t died.. he said with a grin to his friend, sheathing his sword momentarily on his back. And you’re picking up strays…? he asked, blue eyes glancing at the blood-covered young girl next to him. Where on earth did he find a young girl, alive in the Reaper tunnels…? And what was she wearing…? The clothing was unlike Viktor had ever seen.

His eyes fixated on the blood splattered across her odd blue attire. Despite the dirt and blood that covered her entire body, her frame was slight and pale… suddenly his body stiffened. Was the girl from Mount Weather? Why would Rhys have her with him? Viktor’s suddenly hardened eyes finally met the girl’s. Their surroundings were dark, dimming all of her features, but all it took was one look in the girl’s sky-blue eyes and suddenly his throat tightened. No… it was impossible… His sister was dead… yet this girl had the same wide, curious eyes and soft blonde hair… Was he still dreaming? Was he lying unconscious on the bottom of the tunnels, his visions still haunting him? Despite his doubts, Viktor still found himself speak her name. ….Taleia?” his voice was hoarse, an unexpected sideffect from the tightness in his throat. Something was not right… This was impossible.

tag: Talia/Rhys
words: 1,667


note: ***Spoken Italics are meant to be spoken in Trigedalselng (Grounder speak), but for sake of rpg, written in English***
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Talia
 Posted: Feb 27 2016, 12:49 AM
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Wayward
player: Jess
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He was so bad off, the poor sweet man. His eyes were unfocused and glassy, all she could do was run her cool bloodied palms against his fevered skin as Talia tried to think of some way to help and help fast. There wasn't much she could do for the stranger if they were still stuck in enemy territory; she needed him to survive this so they could both make it home. And the thought of him being hurt ached at her heart more than she could understand. His voice was soothing, a deep dark rumble that reminded her of molasses. Her brows furrowed when he stopped and Talia started to speak before his hand was over her mouth and cradling the back of her head. Her eyes widened, the whites swallowing the baby blue as her breath caught. The look in his own dark ocean blue eyes kept her from panicking; it was worried and insistent with a protective gentleness that had her trusting him implicitly. She nodded, just enough for him to feel before they were rolling, and her hands latched onto the front of his vest securely. How he wrapped around her filled her body with an unknown warmth, a fire curling low in her belly and soothing some of the horrendous pain. It felt good, and she subconsciously wriggled as the pair of them rolled under one of the carts.

Being pinned under this man shouldn't have felt so... good. In the shadows covered in dirt and blood, Talia could hear her pulse roaring in her ears as the weight of him settled atop her. They were escaping detection and here she was utterly swept away in the way his hair hung over his face, or the corded muscle in his neck. She was enthralled and her breath came in uneven puffs against his hand as she tried to focus on the danger and not him. His hooded gaze was settled on the creatures lurching and grunting around them, and Talia just barely turned her head to get as good of a look as she could manage. A wave of nausea reared it's ugly head again, the bile burning the back of her throat as the memory of what those things did came flooding back. It took everything not to be sick or cry out as her eyes squeezed together again, tears she couldn't stop if she tried spilling over her cheeks and sliding into her open wounds. For a moment she was convinced that she would never find her way home to her nontu and her brother; the onslaught of grief was all-consuming and it pulled her far away. Away from the pain and the blood and the Reapers and her hero, her charge. Silently she prayed out for her brother to find her, like he always found her. Here she was in the creeping darkness again and while the thing that grasped her close wasn't as insidious as last time, Talia wondered if she was still the tiny shivering thing that was lost in the fog again. Viktar...

She didn't notice how hard she clung to her savior until he began to shift and move. Her hands had wound themselves into his clothes as if he was a lifesaver, clinging to the only thing that would keep her safe and real. Talia blinked her tears away as she nodded up at him, realizing her grasp as he moved and the shame settled on her to take his place. She was weak... useless. Crying was something she learned long ago served no purpose and here she was a broken teary thing because what? She was lost? In pain? Overwhelmed? She hated herself for becoming like them, the beasts above them who whimpered over a small paper cut. She was Trikru, even if she was deformed now. She was better than tears. As he helped her up, she tried to smile up at him reassuringly, answering with a small shake of her head. ”Not well... “ She had to be honest. She was bruised, bloody, in agonizing pain, nauseous, and weak from it all. She couldn't run. She was lucky that she could walk.

The sound of another voice startled her, and Talia instantly took a half step in front of this “Rhys” to protect him. Shoulders squared off, her hands came up in front of her like her brother had always taught her. It was muscle memory and it was bittersweet, but she wouldn't go down without a fight. He had kept her safe, she would be damned if she didn't do the same for him. Her nose wrinkled angrily as he called her a 'stray', before she stiffened even more. The danger coiling off the stranger had crept up a bit; he seemed to know her companion but his eyes promised danger to her. His eyes... his.. Eyes...

All at once her body relaxed, her hands flying up to cover her mouth as tears that she wasn't going to bother hiding streamed over her bruised and bloody face again. Falling to her chest her hands clasped to cover her heart, Talia beamed up at him with a watery smile as her lower lip trembled. ”Viktar! You found me! You always Find Me!” No Reaper ever moved as swiftly as she did then, leaping at her brother and flinging her arms around his neck to hug him for all she was worth. Over and over repeating the same thing. ”You found me! Vik! You found me! It's really you! You found me!” All at once her prayers and dreams and wishes came true as she buried her nose in his neck, breathing in the sun and fresh air and scent of her brother, smells of home that clung to him. How long had she been locked away from leather and sunshine? How long had it been since her hair was braided? Her legs kicked up in the air as she quietly rejoiced that everything was as it should be. Her Brother was Alive!

Nothing mattered, the world could come crashing down around her, she could be dragged back to that hellhole and it didn't matter. Her brother was alive. He was here and he was real and he was Back! She was Home. Her brother, her home was alive and he had found her. This. This was why she ran, why she never let them break her. Maybe she could be forgiven her tears, just this once...

rhys//viktor » 1082 » i'm home! *cries*


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Rhys
 Posted: Feb 27 2016, 12:50 AM
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Sentry
player: Jax
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hopeless wanderer
So leave that click in my head, and I will remember the words that you said. Left a clouded mind and a heavy heart, but I was sure we could see a new start So when your hope's on fire, but you know your desire. Don't hold a glass over the flame. Don't let your heart grow cold.I will call you by name. I will share your road
When she took his hand and stood up, Rhys could feel the edges of his mouth tug up. It was the closest thing to a smile that he usually came, and certainly the biggest it could be when it came to complete strangers. There was a small grunt of appreciation in the back of his throat that she would trust him and come with him, even knowing how much danger they were still in. She could have turned to try and make it on her own. Hells, she didn’t even need to help him in the first place. Whatever came of this, though, they were now in this together.  

The simple motion served multiple purposes, though. The hand meant that he could guide her without needing to say anything, and it meant that he could keep good track of her as they moved. While he might be hurting, he knew how to press that sort of thing into the back of his mind and ignore even the most stubborn of pains once he got past the initial shock of it being there in the first place. It was not the first time he had been injured so far from home, even if it was the worst in recent history. From the way she was moving and the amount of blood that was on her, though, she was not without pain of her own. He was prepared to carry her, if he had to.  

Judging from the look of her, she was not one who saw battle too often. That just made him feel more indebted to her when it came to rescuing his sorry hide. She had risked much to take the time save him, since she obviously was on an escape mission of her own. That was not to say that a warrior risked nothing when they turned to save a fallen man, but the non-warrior had a different set of merits to lose. Had the reapers appeared earlier, or had she arrived too soon to avoid the original fight or too late to save him at all, this entire series of circumstances would have turned out completely different.  

He felt her small hand disappear into his large palm, and wondered at the softness of it. His first impression had been correct; she was not someone who saw a lot of hard combat. He looked back at her briefly, at the way her keen eyes still seemed to be taking the tunnels He would not be surprised if she caught something in the air or around a corner before he did. Everything that she had shown him so far was that she had a quick mind, and his mother had always told him to trust his first instinct about someone. He was, after all, his mother’s child.  

It was as he wondered about her that he came around the corner, looking forward just in time to a figure coming around the stone at them. He reached for his dagger, and only then realized that he did not have it in the sheath that he kept on his back right hip. He hand clutched at nothing, and his heart leapt when he realized that he had just wasted even that little amount of time on something that would not help them. If this person was ready to attack already, those precious seconds could cost them. He recovered, bringing up his fists to the ready, but not before the girl had stepped in front of him, her hands stretched out, prepared to intercept who knew what when it came at them… when it came at him. She could have chosen to use him as a shield, but instead, she was using her tiny body to try and protect his. Immediately, he looked at who it was that was coming at them, daring them to try and do something now.  

Even behind the sword, it was his name and a smile that greeted him, and Rhys could feel the adrenaline drain from his limbs. His eyes well-adjusted to the low light, he looked back at the dirtied face of his friend and pupil. A smile barely showed on his face, his mind already thinking about what the shout of surprise from his compatriot might have done to lure Reapers to them. Viktar, he said in reply. “Even if I were dead, I’d find you to get you of here.” He nodded to him at his next comment about the “stray.” “What can I say? I got lonely.”  

They didn’t have time to sit and explain that this stranger had saved him in the tunnels. He hoped that Viktor would just trust him when it came to her, and he could explain it all later. For now, they needed to keep moving, and-  

What was this? She knew him? Watching her speak the name of the man across from them was a shock that his face couldn’t hide, and when Viktor identified her as his long lost sister, no force on this planet was strong enough to keep his jaw from slacking. She was alive? She was real? His eye widened and his brow went straight as she rushed forward to embrace him. He was aghast and silent, though he felt a part of his face soften when he watched them. Maybe he had been among the doubters, or at least he had his times when he could not be sure that Viktor’s faith was well founded, but here it was. Their own private miracle.  

Over her shoulder, he looked at Viktor, and that tug of an almost smile was there again. This was what he had been searching for, what he had dedicated his life to. Hells, it was one of the things that gave Rhys’ life meaning, too, in a way. He wondered what this would mean for the future. Viktor, no doubt, would want to devote his time to helping Talia find her place again, to bring her back and reconnect. Rhys could feel a chapter of his own life starting to close, a moon start to set…  

They needed their moment, so Rhys took to the corners, and worked as their look out. So help him, if some Reaper ruined this for them, he was going to make sure they were shitting his fist for it. He set his jaw and turned to look down the tunnels, counting his heartbeats, feeling them echo in all the injuries in his body. He was good at this. It was a familiar role for him to play. The Quiet Sentry. The Watching Wolf. He knew the part very well. He perked his ears and sharpened his eyes, and his heart beat on.

Not too long, though. He could hear the screams of their hunters chasing down the tunnels and shafts, and he needed to encourage flight. Turning back, he stepped over to the pair. He looked over Talia, looking at her wounds. There was something different about them, and he followed the line of her clothing, noticing there was something strange about the way her clothes hung around her neck and shoulder bones. “Are you hurt?” he asked, pointing to the strange way the cloth gathered. He looked over to Viktor, saying his next words to him in case he would protest. “We can take her to the Cut Wife.” Rhys' own mother... he was worried what would happen if they brought Talia from the tunnels, wearing such strange clothes with strange wounds. The Cut Wife, though, understood the different and eccentric, and welcomed it into her home. “You will be safe there But we need to move.”

1276 / talia :: viktor / ♥ lauz

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Viktor
 Posted: Mar 1 2016, 12:24 AM
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WARRIOR/SCOUT
player: Dani
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WHAT IF I LOSE IT ALL?
oh sister I will help you hang on
Despite the girl’s reactions and clear recognition of him, Viktor still couldn’t allow himself to believe the sight before him… He had held on to the tiniest sliver of hope for so long that it wasn’t until this very moment that he realized he had long-since begun to disbelieve that hope. It had been a mere lie he had told himself to keep going, to have purpose. Because Viktor was so sure that without that hope he would crumble into nothing. So he told himself that it was all true, even if he didn’t entirely believe it to be so. But it was… wasn’t it? Because here she was, his baby sister, standing in front of him with tears in her eyes. And all Viktor could do was stare in shock, disbelief written clear over his features. Even as she said his name, Even as her arms flung around his neck as she lifted her tiny form to the very tip of her toes, Viktor’s body remained still from the shock.

But… it had to be real, didn’t it? She was a physical form; he could feel the heat of her skin against him, the wetness of her tears against his neck, the way her hair tickled his cheek… Imaginary manifestations didn’t do that, did they? In a desperate search for answers, Vik’s blue eyes shot over to Rhys, as they always had when he was younger and in search of answers or validation. And as always, Rhys provided them, this time in the form of a faint smile. Viktor wasn’t crazy… he wasn’t just imagining this… Rhys saw it too. It was his sister, she was alive

In one quick motion, the Grounder’s arms lifted from his sides, wrapping entirely around his sister’s small frame, pulling her close against him, swallowing her up in his arms as if building a wall of protection around her. Oh, if only they had that power… Taleia…” he breathed into her hair. “Yea, I found you…” he finally replied with a faint chuckle before pressing his lips firmly to the top of her head. He was never raised to be very affectionate, but customs and expectations could be damned right now. Pulling his lips away, Vik pushed his forehead against the top of her head. Closing his eyes, he felt a burning liquid swell up around his lashes, not even realizing that tears had welled up in his eyes. He hadn’t cried since the day he had found his father as a Reaper. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” he mumbled into her matted blonde locks, grip tightening slightly on her arms, yet still conscious not to hurt her. “I’m so sorry Talia….”

It was the echoing screams of the Reapers that finally pulled Viktor back into reality, reminding him of their current situation. He finally released the small blonde, taking a step back, yet careful not to create too much distance. When Rhys questioned if she was hurt, Viktor’s calloused hand immediately went to her shoulder, eyes frantically grazing over her face and body at the collection of wounds that decorated it, mentally smacking himself for not asking that before and carelessly squeezing her body. “What happened?” he anxiously demanded of her, a sense of familiarity momentarily sending him back into he past when he was a mere boy watching over his clumsy toddler sister. When Rhys’ head turned toward him, Vik automatically met his gaze, giving the other man a firm nod. Many in the village rejected and feared Rhys’ mother for what she was. Admittedly, there was a time when Viktor did too. But as he spent more time alongside Rhys, he had gotten to know the woman known as The Cut Wife. She was nothing to be feared, unless you crossed her of course. In a way, the woman reminded him much of his won mother with her rare kindness. There wasn’t anyone else Viktor trusted with his sister more than The Cut Wife.

“He’s right, it’s not safe.” Vik agreed, glad his friend still had his good sense in the situation where Vik had clearly lost all sense of rationality. His grip on his sister’s shoulder flattened into a light touch. “Can you walk Tali?” he asked, concerned about her current condition. Viktor wanted nothing more than to tend to every wound that speckled her body for fear of the pain they were no doubt causing her. Yet despite his current state of irrationality, he knew what was a pointless venture that would be. It was too dark in the tunnels to truly inspect her wounds, neither did he have the proper skills to do anything about them, not like Lincoln or Rhys’ mother. And even if he did, the Reapers would be on them any minute, it was not safe to remain. He would carry his sister if need be, but they needed to escape this hell hole. Pulling his sword from his sheath, Viktor gave it a familiar twirl in his hand as he met Rhys’ gaze, providing a slight nod.

TAG; Talia/Rhys | WORDS; 844 | NOTES; Huzzah!
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Talia
 Posted: Mar 23 2016, 03:08 PM
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Wayward
player: Jess
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Home; that was the feeling that rushed from the kiss Viktor placed on the top of her head to the tips of her toes. The warmth that brought a grin to her lips as her hands kneaded into his clothes to pull him impossibly closer. She was Home. Even though they physically hadn't left the caves and their monsters behind, the dream that she had every single night for as long as she could remember had finally come true. It was real; she was going to be safe. It didn't matter that every bruise throbbed or the steady pulse of blood wept from her wounds. It didn't matter that with how hard they clung to one another her port pressed painfully into her flesh. Her brother, her hero was here. The sound of his voice rose and fell exactly like she remembered it being, even if the tone was so deep and rich. She could recall a boy's lilt and while she had gone away he'd grown up into a man. He had to be taller than their father now, and that thought made her nose wrinkle in happiness as she leaned up to rest their heads together like they used to.

God her cheeks hurt from grinning. This was the best day of her life and Talia didn't think the muscles of her face would ever recover from the absolute joy. He was so big and warm; though being held close she could finally notice how gangly she had grown up to be. All limbs and angles where he someone decided to turn into a bearded warrior bear. It was his apologies that had her face twist in confusion, nose once again wrinkling though this time in thought as she pouted just a touch. ”Why? You didn't do anything to me. You saved me! You both did!” Her voice while low spoke with conviction; these two wonderful men were her heroes and no one could tell her otherwise. Especially not them.

The sound those things made had her shudder, eyes scanning the darkness as it echoed down from who knew how far into the labyrinth. It was second nature to meld into her brother's side and her arm linked around his elbow without a thought as her free hand came up to defend herself. It was why perhaps it caught her so off-guard when the pair of them spoke of her being hurt and Talia needed a few seconds to blink lost to the subject before she realized what they were talking about. The adrenaline had her distracted, the joy had her giddy, the blood loss had her light-headed. ”I had to get away from the [doctors], so I had to go down this... hole and hit everything on the way down. I landed in a pile of bodies...”

Turning her head to look at the handsome man her brother called 'Rhys', Talia bit her lip as she pulled shook her head, resolving to show the pair of them later.. ”It's the [port] they put in... ” she murmured, voice small when she looked down at it to see how red and angry her flesh was around the surgical steel where it poked out from the neckline of her clothes. It hurt... everything was starting to as the adrenaline began to drain out of her little body leaving her exhausted. She needed panic. She needed to stay focused and moving and then she could collapse...

At the question, Talia nodded resolutely; though she needed a clearer head. Her free hand came up to wrap around her rib cage, giving the bones a small squeeze as the pain bloomed white hot. It stole her breath but she needed the clearer head that her fight or flight response would give her. The echoes down the tunnels were getting louder and Talia would be damned if she was going to be torn apart with freedom close enough to taste. ”No. But we need to run.” The resolve in her voice was the same steel that threaded through her spine. She was Trikru; she could get out of here and rip apart any Reaper would dared to think of hurting either of the stalwart men at her side. Even if she wasn't sure her body could manage it. Her eyes flicked up to meet their twins, and she gave Viktor a warm smile. Cool fingers came up to rest over the hand he held to her and she gave them a reassuring squeeze. They could do this. They had to.

Looking between the pair of them, Talia smiled. They could do this. As long as she didn't slow them down...

Her gaze lingered on Rhys and her heart hitched at him getting hurt because of her. He had already kept her safe and brought her to her brother; she couldn't handle the idea of him not being okay. It was as she looked over him that she noticed the dagger that had been digging into her hip when they were under the mining cart wasn't in it's holster anymore. Brow pulled tight, her eyes quickly scanned over where they were, following the tracks of how they rolled and wriggled along the dirt before crouching down to their temporary sanctuary. There, caught on the broken wheel was his discarded dagger, and Talia quickly palmed it into her hand before standing up and giving both men that same determined look from before. She wasn't helpless. She would make her body run until it fell apart or her heart burst from exertion; whatever she had to do to get home. ”After you.”

There was something to be said about being small. Tali didn't have the strength or combat prowess like either of the men with her. But her footsteps were always silent as a cat ever since she was young. And despite the halo of pale blonde hair, the Trikru girl could blend into a shadow as if she belonged there. She moved quickly, despite the growing limp that became more and more obvious as they set down the path out of the mines and the puffs of breath that spoke to the depths of her exhaustion. With one of them behind her and the other taking point, all she focused on was Out.

rhys//viktor » 1082 » spent the entire time writing this just wiggling like a puppy. also the words in english are not italicized and in [brackets] so they stand out as stupid mountain men words.


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Rhys
 Posted: Apr 6 2016, 03:46 PM
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Sentry
player: Jax
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hopeless wanderer
So leave that click in my head, and I will remember the words that you said. Left a clouded mind and a heavy heart, but I was sure we could see a new start So when your hope's on fire, but you know your desire. Don't hold a glass over the flame. Don't let your heart grow cold.I will call you by name. I will share your road
Rhys rocked back and forth on his toes, pressing his weight forward slowly, and then back. It wasn’t a quick movement, more like the swaying of the trees when a hard wind pressed through the leaves. He watched his two companions, reading them for all their body language. It was not that he was uncertain about them. Far from it, in fact. He had been training Viktor since he was much younger, preparing him every day for their next journey into the tunnels. Talia seemed to be cut from the same cloth, and Rhys could not help but admire her resilience to stay on her own two feet and fight beside them, while others would have been content with merely being rescued. There was much to be admired about each other Trikru siblings, though both for their own reasons.

Speaking of admiration, Talia did not fail to surprise again when she looked around, and rummaged about in the debris near where they were taking their rest. It was near where she and him had been hidden, and he mind fluttered back to the sensation of her heart beating so rapidly that he could feel it against his own chest and how warm her breath had been as it left her and smoothed over his neck. He watched her carefully, as she crawled back into the pile, wondering if her eyes saw something that his had not. He watched how she moved and bent, cocking his head to the side to get a better look at her motions and what she was up to. She came back out with his dagger, something he had not even been able to see with his eyes in the darkness. He decided then an there to let her keep the dagger, no matter the outcome of the escape.

His eyes caught sight of the object at her chest again. [The port,] as she called it. Something that the mountain men had put in her. Something that was hurting her. He appreciated the amount of trust that Viktor was placing in Rhys and his mother. So many people of the clan had heard of him and his mother. They lived on the land of Trikru by the grace of Anya, and who knew what was to come in the wake of her death. Many people would have broken off communication with Rhys and Robin with such uncertainty on the horizon. The next tribe leader might get rid of them, and anyone who stood loyal to the pair of splita in the woods. Viktor stood with them, though, even though Rhys had certainly trained him enough to make it on his own. If a betrayal or ejection ever came from Viktor, it would probably be the one in his life right now that would hurt the most.

Talia rejoined them in line, and Rhys took up the back. It looked like Viktor had not seen action nearly as recent as they had, and it might be wise for him to take the lead. He could always take a hit like a bear, and return the blow with similar ferocity. Ever since he came into his own, Viktor was the purely physically stronger one of the two, and Rhys was no weakling. What Rhys had was a keen eye and quick reflexes. He was able to shoot just about anything that he could set his eyes on from about any distance, and his eyes could catch a lot. Taking up the rear also offered that as an advantage, and he pulled his box and knocked his arrow. Anyone come from behind them would be approaching from a greater distance, and Rhys could knock them down before they got in range. Then there was Talia. Rhys had not known what to expect, but he did notice how she practically vanished between him and Viktor. The dagger as a short weapon meant she was armed but that it blended against her anatomy. It showed exactly why it was the preferred weapon of the stealthy mind, and watching her move showed Rhys just how much Trikru there was still in the girl. Maybe she remembered it from watching the warrior years ago, or maybe it was in her blood. Either way, she made up the third part of a whole, not some escort that needed to be protected.

Rhys gave one more look to Viktor. He knew these tunnels almost as well as Rhys did, but he was certain he knew the way. “You’re point.” he said, simply and succinct, even for a man who spoke Trigedasleng. His voice was hoarse. Parched from the long day with no drink, and rough from general lack of use. “Take us out. 5 minutes. No more. Less if we double.” He trusted Viktor to keep the pace for them. Rhys settled his back against the wall, giving one less direction he could be attacked, and making himself a thinner target for anyone coming down the tunnels. “Almost home, butterfly,” he said to Talia, and he even allowed himself a slight smile and a quick wink at her. He was a touch cocky in their almost-victory, but they were allowed it. They were nearly out, and that alone was a cause to celebrate. Almost... He could practically smell the sweet wet scent of the trees again, and feel the rain kissed air on his checks. And they were about to show that world to a girl who had been gone from it for years… He wasn’t one to write poetry of the liturgy, but certainly there was a song to be told in that.

927 / talia :: viktor / going home / ♥ lauz

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Viktor
 Posted: Apr 25 2016, 06:34 AM
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WARRIOR/SCOUT
player: Dani
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WHAT IF I LOSE IT ALL?
oh sister I will help you hang on
Viktor’s face twisted in empathy as his sister briefly retold the methods of her escape. A burning sense of range swelled up within him as his teeth grit tightly together in attempts to control it. Rage at all of the inanimate objects and rock that harmed Talia during her escape, rage at the sick Mondu who had taken her and tortured her, rage at himself for losing her in the first place…. His anger only flared when she revealed the ‘port’, as she called it. Viktor was nowhere near trained in the healing arts, but he could recognized an infected wound when he saw one. Softly, he gently pushed the fabric out of the way so that he could get a better look. I will make each and every one of them pay Tali, I promise. his words flared with wrath, though he kept his voice low. It took a considerable amount of effort from Viktor to not run right back into the mountain to take down those bastards right now, given his desire to rip their throats from their weak, pale necks. But there was no chance in hell he would risk bringing Talia back there, even if it was for his own revenge. She needed to get to safety, not to mention his two companions looked as if they could use a healer.

The resolution in his sister’s face, mixed with the pain she was trying to mask, brought an ache of pride to Viktor’s heart. He held his gaze upon her for a moment, mentally judging if she truly was okay to walk or if he should scoop her up right now. No, she was Trikru, and no longer a child. He could not treat her as such, despite that having been the last time he had seen her. No matter where she had spent the last several years, she was a warrior at heart. And if she did fall, he would be by her side immediately, she would not leave his side again.

Readying himself for the escape and likely opposition they could face, Viktor pulled out one of his blades, gripping it tight in his hand, feeling comforted by the familiarity. It was at that point he noticed out of the corner of his eye that the little blonde head was slipping away from them. “Tali…” he whispered after her, weight leaning forward to the tips of his toes in readiness to go after her. She had always had a habit of wandering… and that was what had gotten her stolen from him in the first place. Yet she did not go far, so his feet remained planted, curious eyes focused on his sister as he wondered what exactly she was doing. When she reappeared with a dagger, Vik’s brow scrunched in curiosity, not understanding why she had gone for it, or even where it came from. But with a quick glance up at Rhys, it was clear the other man was not as confused as him, and another glance down at the dagger as Talia came closer filled in the rest of the missing information as he recognized Rhys’ dagger. There was a small sense of relief to see his sister armed and safe.

Rhys addressed him and Viktor’s gaze moved to his friend, giving him a firm nod. He was comfortable in the lead, and with the two of them, it often fell into that pattern. Viktor was more headstrong and thirsted for confrontation, while Rhys was calculating and strategic; he’d often direct Vik from the rear while protecting his ass, particularly when he did something stupid and brash. And while he disliked the idea of his sister being out of his line of sight, there was no one Viktor trusted more with her safety than Rhys. Alright, then let’s get the out of this hell hole. the blonde gave a quick twirl of his sword as he stepped forward, positioning himself in the lead of the small line they formed. “Tali, stay close and in formation, you got it?” He spoke in English this time, just to make sure his message was absolutely clear. It wasn’t that he didn’t think his sister was capable of fighting, but she had not received the training and skills she would have had she spent the last several years with her people than the fucking Mondu, and he didn’t want her going up against a Reaper if she didn’t have to.

He began to move, his pace quick yet quiet-footed, not quite a jog but faster than simply walking. As he moved, his eyes were alert, darting around his dark surroundings for any sense of movement. The noises were growing increasingly louder behind them; thankfully the idiots liked to make themselves known as the sense of discreetness was entirely lost on them. But that also meant they would be on top of them at any moment… If they could just make it outside before the Reapers were on them, they could gain the advantage, or at least not be trapped within the small confines of the tunnels. As they rounded a corner, Vik picked up his speed, leading them into a light jog, listening for the others’ footsteps to follow.

They were almost to the end of the cavern; he could already smell the freshness of the air seeping into the caves and the faint cool breeze that now mixed with the stale heat of the tunnels. They were almost out, they could make it…. And then, as if to laugh in the face of hope, just as the tunnel’s exit came into sight, so did the three Reapers blocking it. Taking off full-speed ahead of the group, Vik ran at them as they did the same. He ducked the spin of a blade that was aimed for his head, simultaneously sending out his leg to trip one of the others to the ground. The sword in his hand was shoved upwards into the gut of the first attacker, but Viktor wasted no time watching his fall, because once the blade was removed he was daring after the other Reaper who had ran past him. Closing the distance between them, he tackled the creature to the ground.

TAG; Talia/Rhys | WORDS; 1,042 | NOTES; Huzzah!
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Talia
 Posted: Jul 18 2016, 06:34 PM
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Wayward
player: Jess
21 posts

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”Of course you will, Viktar.” Only a fool would cross her brother, and the mountain had done more than that. Those horrible monsters stole her away, murdered their mother. Oh no, they would pay. And Talia would be damned if she wasn’t going to help them meet their justice long overdue. It was the weight of the blade in her bloodied and dirt caked hands that resolved her from the uncertainty of before. Even after what she had to do to get away, Talia had been reactionary. Fleeing because she didn’t have any other option; mind focused on survival and getting back to Viktor. And with her driving goals so recently met, now she had to chose for herself what she wanted to do. Choice was daunting, something always denied her. But with the cool metal and wood resting in her grip, her fingers tightened on the hilt. She was a fighter. She wasn’t going to be passive while these two good men fought for her. They deserved back up. They meant everything to her and she wasn’t about to leave them high and dry while they were still in danger. Never, ever. So she would fight, as best as she could and with her final breath and no one was going to tell her otherwise.

Butterfly…

The soft sound stole her attention away from her thoughts, and Talia quirked her head. That was the last thing she expected to hear come from the man behind her, And Talia paused a heartbeat to peer up at Rhys quizzically. There was more to this friend of her brother’s than even she had guessed, and every surprise inspired in her a need to know more. He was… more than she could explain, and the endless river of questions about what she was feeling and why threatened to sweep her away amidst the undertow. Yet the mysteries of her savior would need to wait for another day, long after they left this hell behind them no matter what she may have wanted. She blushed at his wink and smile, and Talia couldn’t help herself as she grinned sweetly back before focusing on following her brother.

The shadows threatened more than they should, the echoing growling of those beasts sent shivers up her spine. ”I will. I can do this Vik.” she replied back in the language that had felt more hers than her mother tongue. It hurt her heart a little how much simpler it was for her to use English, but it was survival. Even if an errant fear lanced through her heart as soon as the whisper past her lips. Would she be too much like their enemies for her own people to recognize her, or welcome her home? Was she too much like them now? It hadn’t occurred to her until this very moment, and the endless winding tunnels that they jogged past offered no succor or answer no matter how hard she willed them to. Her heart pounded against her port, and each and every wound vibrated in time with her thundering pulse. Her grip tightened on Rhys’s dagger as she slipped along the path on silent bare feet as her father’s instructions rose through the spiderwebbed echoes of the past.

Move Swift.
Move Silent.
Strike Before They Know You’re There…

It wasn’t until now that she realized those games they would play was his way of keeping her safe. The lessons she learned so long ago came back to her, guiding her feet despite the years that separated then and now. Her weight shifted to the balls of her feet as her knees bent deep enough to cradle her weight and turn her about should she need. Clever eyes watched what her brother did and adapted it to her smaller build and she felt rather proud of herself for being able to fall into step as if she had never left his side. It was the speed they had to travel at that was beginning to make her pant softly, even as her brows knit together in determination she pushed harder and faster. Muscles protesting with her wounded gait as stealth fell in priorities to keeping up with Viktor’s pace. It was the scent of fresh air that made her a little dizzy, and then the roaring panic as she saw what stood between her and sunshine.

Everything slowed to an almost crawl as her brother and those things charged each other. She couldn’t let herself focus on Viktor, even as he crashed into a reaper with a snarl. There were two more that he wasn’t dispatching, not counting however many were nipping at their heels. Without thinking, Talia sprinted forward, lips tight as she caught the eye of one of those things. The first one she dodged past, scampering just out of reach of a rusted angry blade before spinning about to see the third rushing forward. Something snapped inside of her, the same way it had back in her room that started this whole adventure. Letting go of the pain and fear, Talia hastily formed a plan.

While her brother chose confrontation, she played to her strengths. At the last moment, waiting until she could practically smell the gore clinging to it’s body, Talia threw herself to one side. Sliding in the dirt as the rocks and debris tore at her flesh before launching herself at it’s back for all she was worth. Legs and arms winding around it in a death grip as the pair of them crashed to the ground. Some how the blonde girl managing to stay on top, twisting the knife in her hands and praying it struck true as the creature violently tried to toss her off.

It was the pop of flesh giving way before the blade sunk home that finally won out, and Tali yanked and pulled with all her might in an effort to cause as much damage as possible. Snarling and crying out from exertion as she struggled to hold on. Her knees ached from how they collided into the ground, legs still pinned as she finally pulled her arms free. The knife flashing ruby in the light before she brought it down at the junction between the skull and spinal column. She wasn’t certain when it died, or anything else happening around her. She just knew she had to stop the reaper from hurting the men who meant the world to her. It wasn’t until it stopped moving that Talia stopped twisting the knife; then she turned her entire focus on trying to disentangle herself from the corpse.

rhys//viktor » 1102 » I have a laptop that works!!! *dances*


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Rhys
 Posted: Nov 16 2016, 05:18 PM
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Sentry
player: Jax
16 posts

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hopeless wanderer
So leave that click in my head, and I will remember the words that you said. Left a clouded mind and a heavy heart, but I was sure we could see a new start So when your hope's on fire, but you know your desire. Don't hold a glass over the flame. Don't let your heart grow cold.I will call you by name. I will share your road
With the planned formed, Rhys focused. His mind narrowed to include only the task at hand. He shut out the other thoughts… at the warmth and sense of longing at seeing the siblings reunited, happy to see them to joyous, but wondering what it felt like to have that sense of longing to be part of something fulfilled… How some of that longing seemed quelled by the amount of trust that Viktor was placing in him… and just what it meant to see all those questions passing over Talia’s face when she glanced up at him… And just what that look made him feel inside of him, curling around his chest like a warm snake before settling against his spine. All these thoughts needed to go away behind the wall that was inside him… the wall that made everything quiet before the storm to come.

When he moved, he moved like the wolf that had earned him his names. The crossbow that he had traded with Floukru for rested in his hands, cradled gently to prevent his arms tiring from strain, but ready to strike. He kept himself close to Talia, taking it very seriously that he had been entrusted to watch her back. So now, there were two to look out for. Rhys did not realize how rare that was for him. While Lincoln had trained with them in the woods in the past, that was years ago before he had become splita himself, and he had never taken Lincoln into the tunnels. That was a suicide mission reserved for the undesireables and the desperates. Keeping an eye on both of them would prove to be a new challenge.

It was their flank he needed to take care of. There was no sense in having six eyes watching their front with none to the back, so as they moved their first few paces down the tunnels, he turned his body around, leveling his sight into the darkness that chased them. He couldn’t risk falling behind the pack, though, so he stayed close to Talia, his hip resting slightly in the crook of the small of her back. His skin felt warm against her, feeling the chill of here even through their clothing, and he was filled with concern that spoke to a primal spirit in him, but he had to ignore it. He had no choice. He could worry about keeping her warm later. He moved with her, being sure that his own movements did not hinder hers, and she moved with her brother.

He felt the cool air of outside on the back of his neck, and saw the ambient light bouncing on the tunnel walls. He scented the freedom of the trees on the air. Trikru did not belong underground, even the ones who had been banished by their people. It did not suit them well. Rhys himself always felt stir crazy if he spent too long underground, even knowing where the tunnels curved and dipped and ended. It was not the mystery that made him mad. It was being separated from his forests that always made him senseless for the open freedom of the woodland. Perhaps they all felt it. Perhaps that was why it was easy for the Reapers to find them.

Their progress stopped abruptly, so close to the exit that Rhys had not yet seen himself, but could practically taste. He turned his head slightly, directing one ear up the tunnel towards the entrance, inclining his head as if to get a better listen from the angle. He did not ask what was happening, but waited for information that he could get for himself, rather than have someone deliver it to him. What he heard he did not like. There was a change in the breathing of Talia and Viktor, and beyond that… there had to be at least three Reapers, and they sounded like they were between them and their way out. A trap. Reapers were not much in the way of thinkers, but they were like animals on the hunt. They could set up an ambush. Even as he heard the Reapers suddenly charge from the front, Rhys was away of movement in the shadows behind them. His muscles suddenly going firm, he fired off the crossbow, a bolt loosing into the darkness.

He heard the bolt sink into flesh, but the Reapers kept on coming, rushing from the shadows like wraiths, their swords already drawn, their teeth black and biting as they came. Two of them, each ready to rend and slash and bite with every weapon that they had. Rhys could see his bolt, sticking from the shoulder of the one of his right, and while it might have hinder the function of the arm, it did little to actually slow the Reaper down. They were both upon him quickly, and Rhys instinctively reached for his dagger, only to remember as his hand grasped at an empty sheath that he no longer had it on him. It would serve better in Talia’s hands, but that meant for right now…

His crossbow came up in time to sweep against the head of one of the Reapers. The weapon itself was heavy enough to serve as a club in an emergency, and a shield in another. Even as he was finishing his sweep of one Reaper, he was twisting the crossbow to block the sword of another. This was not what the crossbow was designed for, and he watched the Reaper’s sword cut a nick out of the crossbow. Better than his head. Rhys held his ground, planting hard to not loss any ground or traction as the Reaper continued to bore down on his. He locked eyes with it, knowing that the only thing more irresistible to a Reaper than fresh meat was a dominance war. Without a word, and barely bearing his teeth, he bore his sight into the Reaper’s eyes, as the Reaper glared back, teeth fully exposed as if to display the nasty tools of its trade. Rhys held his ground and held his gaze, until he had it… the crossbow bolt at his hip. He had no time to reload but… he brought the bolt up sharply, breaking the light of sight between him and the Reaper and the bolt firmly planted itself in the brain of the Reaper by way of its eye.

He knocked the still flailing but no doubt dying Reaper back with his shoulder, breaking up the combat between them. He had not time for triumph, though, as the second Reaper, now recovered from the bludgeon to the face, waylaid Rhys from the side. Together, they went careening against the tunnel wall, Rhys pinned with his back against it with the Reaper bearing against him. He had little line of sight from where he was, unable to get a good look at Viktor of Talia. The Reaper’s dark face and wild hair took up most of his view. He barely had any sense as to where he was.

There were hands around his throat, closing in tight. In the upheaval, he had lost the crossbow. For the best. Having it would only be a hindrance in what had quickly become and extremely up close problem. Beyond his personal fight, he could hear the struggles of Viktor and Talia, but not fully see what was going on. But they were alive. Now, he needed to remain the same…

1295 / talia :: viktor / might need a little help… / ♥ lauz

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Viktor
 Posted: Jan 11 2017, 04:29 PM
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WARRIOR/SCOUT
player: Dani
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WHAT IF I LOSE IT ALL?
oh sister I will help you hang on
The struggle with the Reaper beneath him was a short yet violent one. The creature didn't stay down long; immediately after being tackled, the Reaper erratically pushed himself to standing position and Viktor wrapped a thick arm around its neck in order to keep his grip on it. Thrashing itself back and forth in order to throw the Grounder off of its back, the Reaper cried out in guttural frustration but Vik held tightly. There was a sharp movement and suddenly he was being slammed into the rocky wall of the cavern. Letting out a stifled grunt of pain as the jagged rocks slammed into him, the man's grip loosened slightly. The creature beneath him took notice and immediately reached up to pull his arm off, yet before he could rip it away, Viktor brought his knife up, shoving it full force between its eyes. After a brief, gurgling cry, the Reaper fell to the ground and Viktor along with it.

With two out of the three Reapers dead, panicked blue eyes shot up and automatically landed on his sister. For a moment his heart skipped a beat; seeing her entangled with the Reaper and blood drenching her hands, but it quickly found its rhythm again when Viktor realized the body beneath her was not moving. With a light smirk, he quickly closed the distance between them, holding his hand out toward his sister to help pull her off, using the tip of his boot to kick the body beneath her off of her trapped legs. "You alright?" Unable to help himself from exhibiting concern. Despite the Mondu ripping away at such a young age, softening his little sister up with their sheltered ways and forcing such horrific treatment on her, they had not drenched Talia’s spirit. The flame within her couldn’t be put out; as Viktor was proud to see, and try as they might, they couldn’t rip the Trikru from within her.

Pulling his eyes from his sister, Vik searched for their third companion. There was a dead Reaper on the ground where Rhys had been, and blue eyes soon snapped over to the wall at the sounds of struggle. Letting go of his sister who had now untangled herself, Viktor pulled his axe from his belt. "Rhys!" The yell was all that was needed, and a blink later, the axe left the blonde man's grip in one swift motion, spinning over and over itself until it sunk into the side of the Reaper's head, the sickening sound of sliced flesh and bone echoing out. A beat later and the creature fell heavily to the ground. Vik jogged over to his friend, finally feeling the effect of each of the blows he had sustained as his muscles contracted, now that the adrenaline was ebbing. "We gotta go before any more show up." he panted breathless, "You okay?" Planting his wide hand firmly on Rhys’ shoulder, the blonde tilted his head slightly in concern at his mentor. They didn’t have time to sit around and lick their wounds, even a moment’s hesitation could cost them their life if more of the damn Reapers came back, but that didn’t mean Viktor wasn’t concerned for his two companion’s current condition. He’d sooner throw himself at the Reapers than leave either one behind.

TAG; Talia/Rhys | WORDS; 551 | NOTES; Let's get outta heeere!
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Talia
 Posted: Jan 2 2018, 07:25 PM
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Wayward
player: Jess
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Not. Like. This. She had survived too many horrors in the halls of the mountain king to fall now. Tali had learned their language, grown despite being a caged bird, absorbed their knowledge and their methods. She was between the mountain and the forest now, an anomaly and aberration that would not idly fall back to rights despite her hoping for just that. Instinct had her hand reaching blindly for her brothers. More than a decade had not dulled that unspoken bond and her small hand bracketed onto his calloused one as they pulled her out from the cumbrance of the corpse. ”Always.” The smirk she beamed up at her brother was one she remembered often played on his lips in the echoes of her memories. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was starting to really enjoy the hunt and the fight and the kill.

Prying her blade from the spinal column of the dead thing, Talia’s head snapped up in a panic when her brother cried out for her other protector. Wide eyes flashed in abject fear as she selflessly charged forward with the flying axe as her companion. But her brother’s aim was faster than her bare feet, and when she finally came up to the side of her rescuer Talia frantically shoved the dead monster off of him with a snarl. Immediately small cold hands began floating over all the vital areas she couldn’t handle either of them being injured in. Head, neck, stomach, over the heart, the femoral. All of these she flickered her attention over and she stubbornly swatted away any concerns or insistences of ‘I’m fine’ until she could see for herself. Only then did she take a step back and let herself breathe. ”Na oso gyon au hou nau? Beja?” Her conjugation wasn’t the best, her word choices juvenile at best; but Talia wanted so desperately to at least try and sound like she belonged. And so with a bit of marble mouth pronunciation, she beseeched the pair of them as they began another steady jog to the entrance of the cave.

The moment she broke through to the sun, Talia skidded to a complete inadvertent halt. Her eyes winced shut as a hand came up to offer protective shade. The warmth was almost too much on her skin and she could feel pinpricks of heat spring along her exposed skin giving her the beginnings of a flush that would most likely turn towards a burn. It had been over a decade since she had been out in the air beneath the sky her eyes so perfectly mimicked. And it was almost too much to bear. Her hand returned to her side absentmindedly as her face turned up towards the light, a little sunflower enamored with the butter rich glow of light. Her closed eyes and soft smile looked peaceful, despite how they now clearly showed how injured she was. The forest floor was not kind to her already mangled feet and the pebbles and dirt found new homes among her scrapes and wounds. She drew in deep lungfuls of air, feeling her chest stretch and expand with the sweet air that still smelled like she remembered.

She was free…

It was no more than a handful of heartbeats before Talia tried to blink past the scorching brightness. Her eyes watered and squinted as her head twisted about to find the pair of them. ”It’s so bright…” Once she could make out the shapes that she hoped were her companions, Tali coltish and hindered by temporary sun blindness tried to chase after them. It was awkward going; slow twice over from her slowly acclimating sight and progressively worsening feet. The shade was a relief to both her skin and eyes, and it was only took a few more blinks and the heels of her hands rubbing at her sore eyes before she mostly had her vision back. And still she pushed forward, though she was slowing. Her lungs just couldn’t hold enough air, her blood that needed to deliver said precious gas to her burning muscles was too busy pouring from her wounds to do it’s job and the girl was fading fast. But she would try and she would run until she fell. And when her knees collided hard to the ground she pushed herself back up without a sound to try and get back onto her feet. She stumbled, she skidded, she tripped, she fell. But every time she got back up onto her feet determined to not give up no matter what. A soft murmur the only sound she allowed herself to make.

”Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim… Come on Talia…”

rhys//viktor » 786 » I AM SO SORRY I SUCK


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