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+---- Thread: YOU'VE GOT AN AXE TO HIDE / rescue attempt (/showthread.php?tid=10023)
YOU'VE GOT AN AXE TO HIDE / rescue attempt - beck. - 08-04-2019
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Somewhere tucked away in the poltergeist's frazzled psyche, a quiet voice hissed at him to take a moment and think before flying off the handle for once in his miserable existence. Thinking, as he often discovered, was no fun at all. To expend his effort on developing a strategy beforehand was for cowards. And he, Beck Fisher, was no coward. He stared the grim reaper in the eye and spat blood at its feet. Infiltrating wherever the Pitt stored their prisoners would be a piece of cake. And, hey, if there was a bit of bloodshed involved too, he wouldn't complain.
Impulse guided his paws as he traversed the moonlit terrain to the desert border, apparition unseen. Despite the veil of invisibility protecting him from the eyes of possible guards, he always preferred the cover of the night to conceal him in shadow. Old habits stubbornly refused to fully die, just as he had. As he silently slipped through the dunes, tracks neglecting to follow where he stepped in the cooled sand, Beck found himself alone with his thoughts. First, Kiira had gone missing and Crow refused to do anything about it. The boy tried not to worry himself over the little medic, distracting himself with the present while her absence gnawed at the back of his brain. Then, Sam was snatched from right under everyone's noses before he even had a chance to apologize for the misunderstood favor of burning her cigarettes. As soon as he was freed from the pentagram confining him to his house, he sought retribution for the crimes against his friends. The death of Arrow delayed his wrath, but no longer. Anger crackled through his manifested body, volatile electricity that blinded him to everything other than the thought of both females returning home alive. And he would achieve what he wanted through any methods necessary. Even if it meant substituting in their place as they escaped. The boy would gladly swap places for them -- they each had a life to finish, after all.
His unanticipated mistake appeared in the form of a mask. A decorated skull displayed in the center of their jungle camp, on a spike no less. He scoffed slightly at this; someone must have taken inspiration from William Golding too close to heart. But the allusion wasn't what concerned him. It was Crow's mask. The accessory must have been lost in the raid. Beck allowed himself to rematerialize into view, only a few paces away from the foreboding spike. He figured the slave-holding bastards must have been asleep and he hadn't seen any guards while he slipped into their camp as easily as a bone-chilling wind. Surely, he could snag the general's mask before he sniffed out where Sam and Kiira were chained up. A low giggling bubbling from his waterlogged lungs, Beck crept forward until he could almost grab it -- if only he realized he wasn't the only one present.
Impulse guided his paws as he traversed the moonlit terrain to the desert border, apparition unseen. Despite the veil of invisibility protecting him from the eyes of possible guards, he always preferred the cover of the night to conceal him in shadow. Old habits stubbornly refused to fully die, just as he had. As he silently slipped through the dunes, tracks neglecting to follow where he stepped in the cooled sand, Beck found himself alone with his thoughts. First, Kiira had gone missing and Crow refused to do anything about it. The boy tried not to worry himself over the little medic, distracting himself with the present while her absence gnawed at the back of his brain. Then, Sam was snatched from right under everyone's noses before he even had a chance to apologize for the misunderstood favor of burning her cigarettes. As soon as he was freed from the pentagram confining him to his house, he sought retribution for the crimes against his friends. The death of Arrow delayed his wrath, but no longer. Anger crackled through his manifested body, volatile electricity that blinded him to everything other than the thought of both females returning home alive. And he would achieve what he wanted through any methods necessary. Even if it meant substituting in their place as they escaped. The boy would gladly swap places for them -- they each had a life to finish, after all.
His unanticipated mistake appeared in the form of a mask. A decorated skull displayed in the center of their jungle camp, on a spike no less. He scoffed slightly at this; someone must have taken inspiration from William Golding too close to heart. But the allusion wasn't what concerned him. It was Crow's mask. The accessory must have been lost in the raid. Beck allowed himself to rematerialize into view, only a few paces away from the foreboding spike. He figured the slave-holding bastards must have been asleep and he hadn't seen any guards while he slipped into their camp as easily as a bone-chilling wind. Surely, he could snag the general's mask before he sniffed out where Sam and Kiira were chained up. A low giggling bubbling from his waterlogged lungs, Beck crept forward until he could almost grab it -- if only he realized he wasn't the only one present.
Re: YOU'VE GOT AN AXE TO HIDE / rescue attempt - deimos - 08-04-2019
// how dare u
tracks
Re: YOU'VE GOT AN AXE TO HIDE / rescue attempt - beatae - 08-05-2019
perhaps it would have been better if someone that actually cared an enemy had intruded were around. it would have been in their best interests, at least, to assign more security around camp instead of leaving them all out in the open. august never concerned himself much with potential attacks or surprise raids in the middle of the night. as long as it resulted in his freedom, they could kill as many pittians as they wished. even for the ones that treated him decently, he would hold little to no feeling over them being slain.
that was dangerous thinking, though. slavers always had some sort of way with outliving the good people. being two steps ahead of them and being able to keep their abused labor. august's family, while he remembered very little, specifically knew his genes were always put to use by slavers. his grandparents. his parents. now him and whatever siblings existed were the next generation to continue it on. august would never have children. not while he was in this position. bringing a life into this was absolutely cruel.
in one of his minor attempts to work around the limitations given to him, august stayed out past curfew. at first it was just to get some fresh air and see the stars again. it had felt like weeks since the last time he actually felt any brush of freedom. he would have remained had he not felt a cold chill fall. something different from the night air. he stood up slowly and followed it to its source, head tilted as he realized the scent did not match any of the others he was familiar with.
"hello? anyone there?" it was difficult to see beck as his fur was already dark against the lack of light, and crow's mask was not in his view.
Re: YOU'VE GOT AN AXE TO HIDE / rescue attempt - Jervis - 08-05-2019
[glow=#2b0505,2,300]ENTITLED BASTARD[/glow]
No one in.
Through the moonlight a brazen vulpine scoured throughout the jungle. Only momentarily was the underbrush quiet. Pointed ears raised. While silence usually engulfed the area, whispers came from afar. The words were too silent for him to make out so Jervis flattened to the floor and wandered closer. Through the bushes, his golden eye found two small figure amongst the darkness. One smelled of a smell similar to his, but the other stank of Tanglewood. Finding a slave out of place was not uncommon, but one mingling with the enemy was rare.
As Jervis remained frozen, he could feel the anger bubbling inside him. Whether August's interaction was intentional or not, the ardent would not care. Allowing an enemy to wander upon their land was inexcusable. Not only that, but one that had injured him greatly. Underneath his ribcage lied two puncture marks from the Tanglewood member's horned mask. The wound had taken weeks to heal. It was finally beginning to clear up, but the pain that remained in his side was not long forgotten.
Not only that, but the enemy was lurking near his prized possession. Crow's mask on a stake was reserved for a purpose. Removing it was treason. To see Crow's goonie with his paws all over it caused his frustration to peak. Something had to be done.
Out from the bushes the firey fox emerged, launching forward towards [member=67]beck.[/member] Claws reached out for the feline's flank, attempting to push him down before his filthy degenerate paws could grab at the mask. From there he would release his claws and begin to slice into his side furiously. Without intervention, he wouldn't stop his attack. His rage was infinite and unnerving. Beck might be here for awhile...
No one out.
DISOWNED [glow=#2b0505,2,300]tags - penned by orion[/glow] DISGRACEThrough the moonlight a brazen vulpine scoured throughout the jungle. Only momentarily was the underbrush quiet. Pointed ears raised. While silence usually engulfed the area, whispers came from afar. The words were too silent for him to make out so Jervis flattened to the floor and wandered closer. Through the bushes, his golden eye found two small figure amongst the darkness. One smelled of a smell similar to his, but the other stank of Tanglewood. Finding a slave out of place was not uncommon, but one mingling with the enemy was rare.
As Jervis remained frozen, he could feel the anger bubbling inside him. Whether August's interaction was intentional or not, the ardent would not care. Allowing an enemy to wander upon their land was inexcusable. Not only that, but one that had injured him greatly. Underneath his ribcage lied two puncture marks from the Tanglewood member's horned mask. The wound had taken weeks to heal. It was finally beginning to clear up, but the pain that remained in his side was not long forgotten.
Not only that, but the enemy was lurking near his prized possession. Crow's mask on a stake was reserved for a purpose. Removing it was treason. To see Crow's goonie with his paws all over it caused his frustration to peak. Something had to be done.
Out from the bushes the firey fox emerged, launching forward towards [member=67]beck.[/member] Claws reached out for the feline's flank, attempting to push him down before his filthy degenerate paws could grab at the mask. From there he would release his claws and begin to slice into his side furiously. Without intervention, he wouldn't stop his attack. His rage was infinite and unnerving. Beck might be here for awhile...
No one out.
Re: YOU'VE GOT AN AXE TO HIDE / rescue attempt - beck. - 08-08-2019
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Why anyone would keep a mask with a splintering crack down its forehead, a souvenir from a failed battle as a prized trophy was a mystery to him. No victory for the Pitt could be gleaned from his general's mask, despite what its damaged state might suggest. The scrawny feline wobbled on tiptoes to lift the mask from its barbaric pedestal, bandaged paws curling around its tarnished rims. He could only remember the raid through a red haze -- the only assurance he hadn't imagined the ambush was the bloodied stain on the horns of his mask. Truthfully, he hadn't been paying much attention to the scuffle between Crow and Jervis until he rammed the sharpened horns through the fox's gut in an effort to silence his infernal yapping. Maybe if he returned the accessory, Crow would thank him. Maybe even forgive him. Shrugging his shoulders, Beck moved to safely tuck the mask within his apparition to return to the tabby after he escorted Sam and Kiira home.
August's uneasy question remained suspended and unanswered in the night air, even as Beck visibly flinched and whipped his head to stare over his shoulder. Why wasn't the terrier attacking? His scarred brow furrowed in confusion, but nonetheless, warily distanced himself from the slave with Crow's mask clutched to his chest by one paw. The childish half of him was compelled to scold the hound; calling out for an unseen lurker was suicide in any horror flick. Oblivious to the concept that the unspoken rules of his favorite genre weren't rudimentary knowledge, Beck offered August an expression of disappointment before the Pitt ardent himself barrelled into his side.
A pained wheeze escaped him as the ground seemingly slammed against his side out of nowhere but he only hugged the mask tighter, desperate to prevent his attacker from taking it. Claws scored his exposed side, the gashes slicing deep enough to reveal a glimpse of jutting ribs. He kicked out of panicked instinct, aiming to drive his foot into Jervis' lower gut. Whether his frantic kick found its target or not, the little ghost would slip through the fox's grasp, rolling away from his reach and scrambling to stand. Hastily pocketing the rescued mask, Beck bristled and snarled at the now-disfigured vulpine. "You look like shit," he couldn't help but cackle upon seeing what exactly Crow accomplished on his secret excursion to the Pitt weeks ago. Not the wisest decision, but since when did he ever have a filter between his brain and his mouth?
August's uneasy question remained suspended and unanswered in the night air, even as Beck visibly flinched and whipped his head to stare over his shoulder. Why wasn't the terrier attacking? His scarred brow furrowed in confusion, but nonetheless, warily distanced himself from the slave with Crow's mask clutched to his chest by one paw. The childish half of him was compelled to scold the hound; calling out for an unseen lurker was suicide in any horror flick. Oblivious to the concept that the unspoken rules of his favorite genre weren't rudimentary knowledge, Beck offered August an expression of disappointment before the Pitt ardent himself barrelled into his side.
A pained wheeze escaped him as the ground seemingly slammed against his side out of nowhere but he only hugged the mask tighter, desperate to prevent his attacker from taking it. Claws scored his exposed side, the gashes slicing deep enough to reveal a glimpse of jutting ribs. He kicked out of panicked instinct, aiming to drive his foot into Jervis' lower gut. Whether his frantic kick found its target or not, the little ghost would slip through the fox's grasp, rolling away from his reach and scrambling to stand. Hastily pocketing the rescued mask, Beck bristled and snarled at the now-disfigured vulpine. "You look like shit," he couldn't help but cackle upon seeing what exactly Crow accomplished on his secret excursion to the Pitt weeks ago. Not the wisest decision, but since when did he ever have a filter between his brain and his mouth?
Re: YOU'VE GOT AN AXE TO HIDE / rescue attempt - Jervis - 08-09-2019
[glow=#2b0505,2,300]ENTITLED BASTARD[/glow]
Pridefully managing to tear through Beck's side, Jervis was practically seeing red. His prideful delusion caused him to lose focus momentarily. At that moment, Beck's foot slammed into his lower gut. A disgruntled howl left him. The fox staggered away, causing the ghost to slip out of his grip. In the middle of his fit, a cocky comment flew past him. Enraged, he continued to chase after the feline.
With another leap, he'd plow into Beck, properly disabling him this time. No matter how much of a fit the cat threw, he wouldn't be able to escape the ardent's grip. Finally, he'd drag the cat back to the caves in preparation for their torture.
//short for speedy purposes + powerplay allowed by tricky
DISOWNED [glow=#2b0505,2,300]tags - penned by orion[/glow] DISGRACEWith another leap, he'd plow into Beck, properly disabling him this time. No matter how much of a fit the cat threw, he wouldn't be able to escape the ardent's grip. Finally, he'd drag the cat back to the caves in preparation for their torture.
//short for speedy purposes + powerplay allowed by tricky