keep them listening || WENDELL'S PUBLIC TORTURE

[Stryker]

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[glow=#000,2,300]☣ —[/glow] After Buckingham's prompt escape from his grasp, Stryker had taken pity on his actions. There was no success there. His prized weapon was ripped away from his arms and placed back into Sunhaven's arms too soon, all because their clan had the strength to banish him from their territory. Sadly, they couldn't this time. Within the shadows of the night, the ardent had snuck through their camp and managed to snatch a long-time rival of his own: Wendell. The wolverine had managed to run away from his tyranny months ago and successfully becoming one of his beloved targets. Now it was time for them to meet again. This time the lion was in complete control and there was no more restraint. Only his violent attitude and strong-will remained, creating an utterly dangerous and cocky combo. Not only was Wendell in for pain, but also a hell of an experience. Truly, it was going to be the experience of a lifetime. A lifetime of permanent maiming, that is.

Wendell was not hard to wrangle. The wolverine was small and powerless compared to him, hence why the wolverine did not need any restraints as he stood in the midst The Pitt's stage. Stryker encircled him slowly. His neon gaze peered down at the wolverine, waiting for him to awake and begin to panic at the sight of the lion and his audience. Soon enough, their show would begin.

[member=1787]WENDELL[/member]

[CAESAR CIPHER.]

THERE IS NO LIFE, THERE IS NO SPARK !

CAESAR CIPHER. MALE. THE PITT. DWELLER.

It should be no surprise that Caesar was here. Not only was it Stryker dragging somebody in, but tortures and captures in of themselves was something Caesar was absolutely thrilled over. "Ooh, what 'cha got here?" The demon hummed, a grin on his face as he sat down.

#psychosocial.

[toboggan]

Man, life had been a real bugger as of late. Marina spontaneously vanishes, leaving the insecure Bucky at Sunhaven’s vulnerable helm. What’s more, the empowered fluffy feline then proceeds to demote the wolverine from his positions of power three weeks straight - not that Wendell was upset about it, of course. Those were military positions, they were, and if a conflict were to impulsively arise from the dust, he was supposed to be one of the first responders. This bumped his values’ heads together, in a very nasty way. For once in his short, distressed life, the Brit clung onto a position of power over others, and the importance of oneself it brought. On the other hand, a position of power potentially meant confrontations and strife, both of which not exactly being his strong suit. Anybody that knew Wendell on even an acquaintance-level of interaction understood that the chipper mustelid absolutely despised bad blood of any sorts.

Friction between rival parties never caused more good than bad; when taking Wendell’s existence into account, this was exceptionally true. Friendly debates were a-okay, but arguments, fusses, and other verbal disputes, his fragile shell for the soul could hardly take any of it. However, the stress given forth from oral altercations was nothing on the burden placed on his weak shoulders by physical engagements. Even the slightest mention of a past disunity can tighten his throat and hold it in an iron grasp, simply because of how much shit life threw at his optimistic mug.

Snowbound was his original home. The powder-coated valley, the hot chocolate, the friendly faces, the heavy emphasis on peace and kindness, it concocted the perfect brew for someone of Wendell’s principles. Then, the Pitt came along and took over, causing Wendell to flee to his current residence. As he had been told by the group’s former leader, Atbash, the Pitt had been driven away, but only to ultimately return and set the snowy stomping grounds ablaze. That was not where his virginity to tragedy and trauma was lost - his pureness had been displaced years ago. Though, the horrifying events that transpired at his previous abode burned fiercely in his mind, still shaping the man, mouldings him into a clay sculpture of cowardice and discomposure.

Right when the flames began dimming down a bit, some inter-tribe drama was birthed between the Ascendants and Sunhaven. And, right when the newfound stress obscured itself into a state of oblivion, Mother Nature aims for the balls, and chucks a killer flood at the slowly-recovering group.

By the point of the first snowfall, whilst the Christmas decorations and music made the scene, the dread died down once more. The extravagant red and green lights, the pine-tinged wreaths, they served as jubilant distractions from reality.

Yet, as the Brit learned from experience, life has a push-and-pull factor. As soon as you’ve been pushed into the good, you get pulled right back into the bad. Never has there ever existed harmony, despite the constant efforts made by many.

In this case, the festive season pushed Wendell into a positive mood, a positive stance on life. A gargantuan lion named Stryker came along and fucked that up, unfortunately.

As he woke, the burning scent of moistureless air entering his system, his breaths became quite shaky has his chocolate hues peered into the neon ones that had caused so much anguish. A brief cry exited his system, one sounding a lot more like a tuned exhale, while the mammal analyzed the situation he was in. Indeed it was quite the situation. He wasn’t leaving here alive. The deuce, lion and wolverine, have had quite the history in regards to one another. The overgrown feline had taken Wendell’s home, but failed in maintaining an iron fist over the male. Judging by how heartless he knew the miscreant to be, this very spot, in front of a crowd even, would be his bloody undoing. Ah well, best to give the audience a hell of a show.

"Y-You finally caught me... at long last," he’d nervously remark, his unstable reaching various highs and lows as he spoke, ”just tell me what you want t’ do t’ me, and I’ll happily oblige, you obdurate fuck.”

In no way was he threatening Stryker with these insults; they were his strategy in getting what he wanted. If he was brought out to the public’s eye, then there was obviously going to be a little torturing going on. Hence, the creature theorized that by backtalking him, perhaps his demise could come at least a bit quicker.

[Stryker]

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[glow=#000,2,300]☣ —[/glow] Rounded ears pointed towards Caesar to listen. Still focused on the wolverine, the white lion responded. "An old friend o' mine," he remarked. Obviously, it was heavy sarcasm. This was not a game of 'keep your enemies closer', especially since Wendell held no advantage over him. He was just a bump in the middle of the road. Now he just needed to be dealt with so the former Snowbounder wouldn't shake up the ardent anymore. "His name is Wendell and he's been quite the disgrace in my past." There was nothing Wendell did to him physically, but his escape from his takeover did mess with his emotions. Everyone needed to pay attention to him. "Wendell is the one that got away."

His attention moved away from Caesar, finding unsettling comfort within Wendell's words. Finally, indeed. Stryker's lips curled up into a smirk. "I've waited a long time for this." After their last meet, there was not much done, due to his own idiotic diligence. His fury was unplanned. Not only that, but the wolverine had outsmarted him. Accepting defeat was not easy. From then to now, there was a change in pace. This time all his stewing anger had a carefully planned out session for Wendell that would permanently disable him for life. No longer would he ever have to hear a peep from this miscreant.

With a glint a determination in his eyes and a relentless smile, the ivory lion would proceed with caution. Sharpened claws left their sheaths. Stryker slowly moved forward. "If you want narration, I'll gladly provide." With a brutish hand, he outreached towards the wolverine and brought him closer by the scruff. "But first-" Utmost force pressed the wolverine towards the ground, head first. The sound of fragile bones could be heard. As a result, the wolverine's jaw had been broken and several of his teeth had been knocked out. "-silence in the audience." That even included boastful Caesar. "With that finished, we're going to proceed with the others." Stryker grabbed at the wolverine's broken jaw (or what was left of it) and proceeded to leave his mouth agape. "Say 'ahh' for me, if you would." Those front teeth that had been knocked out fluttered to the floor. The rest remained either unscathed or cracked.

A gentle claw from his other paw rose to the challenge. With careful precision, light pressure was applied underneath the teeth remaining until the claw's curve encircled the bottom, making the process slow and anguishing. The tooth was removed quickly though in a jolt upwards once it reached the end though to maximize the sputtering bloodflow. He proceeded to do this with the next... then the next... and the next... until all thirty eight teeth were removed from the Sunhavener's mouth.

Blood stained white paws pulled away, releasing his tight grip of the wolverine and letting him fall to the ground in defeat. "Lovely." All he had to do now was leave his mark. Stryker was not someone that liked to be generic and leave a branding mark, as those were rather cocky. Instead, he wanted to leave a message. Not only was it going to be addressed to Buckingham, but to the rest of Sunhaven too. They were not going to ignore him. Their leader would eventually succumb to his pressure, along with the rest of them.

"Ready for the next part?" Realistically, he did not expect a response. All he expected was a disgruntled gargle of blood before he proceeded.

//Underlined moves. Powerplay allowed by Wendell's RPer, Toboggan.

[CAESAR CIPHER.]

THERE IS NO LIFE, THERE IS NO SPARK !

CAESAR CIPHER. MALE. THE PITT. DWELLER.

An old friend, huh? Caesar could relate to the feeling of finally catching somebody who had gotten under your skin for the longest time. Although his attempt to go after Pincher and Bakugou ultimately failed, it was nice to feel Bakugou's fur and skin rip under his claws and Goldenluxury finally growing some balls and fighting back. Even if he didn't get to Pincher like he wanted to, Bakugou was sufficient enough. Caesar rolled his eyes as Stryker spoke, demanding silence from the 'audience' - which was only just him right now, so clearly that was directed at him. But no matter; Caesar understood. He understood completely. Getting your revenge required total focus on the target, after all.

Caesar watched in awe as Stryker pulled out Wendell's teeth, his invisible eyebrows raised. Now that was an interesting concept; pulling out somebody's teeth. If Caesar did something like that himself (instead of brands), he probably would try to pull out the eyes of his victim. After all, eyes were the most important thing for a dream demon, he found a strange connection with them. Caesar kneaded at the ground as he waited for the torture to continue, clearly wanting to join in or find somebody to terrorize on his own.

#psychosocial.

[toboggan]

Fear enveloped his terribly shaken mind as the Stryker, the dastardly bastard, fixed an illuminated gaze at another individual in the audience, before educating the likely-vile feline on the transpiring situation. With each hateful sentence gushing out of the lion’s maw, Wendell’s heart sank further and further. It was no coincidence that he, of all people, was to be the subject of the Ardent’s wretched torment and pain; this was revenge. Spoken phrases such as ”an old friend o’ mine”, and ”Wendell is the one that got away” each invoked substantial amounts of terror inito his rapidly developing thoughts. The wolverine examined that the backstory had been overly-exaggerated on Stryker’s part, portraying the Sunhavener as a runaway antagonistic malefactor, rather than a man simply trying to live life peacefully. None of this mattered now. All that mattered was that he was in for a world of pain.

Surrounding movement as a whole apparently went to slow-motion whilst the lion once again shifted his glare unto Wendell, the height difference between the two annotating the obvious strength advantage Stryker had in this circumstance. Such power he had evaded once before, back in the chilly confines of Snowbound - this time was different. Now, if he had tried to run, it was possible that a much more painful demise awaited him, a bloody death at the hands of many instead of the hands of only one. For him, the latter was preferred route, even if both choices meant suffering, if not death.

Still in slow motion was the unsheathing of unnatural sharpened claw, followed by the raising of a beefy limb that beckoned the mustelid nearer, against his own will. A bizarre complacency sprung from this bodily contact, as if it was his profound nerves’ way of telling him that this would be the final “normal” moment in his life; and he reluctantly relished the moment. A few witty words ushered themselves out of Stryker’s system, before suddenly, all outlandish luxury and ease ceased to exist on account of the feline’s adjacent actions. Tremendous force, deriving from a heavy paw placed at the aft of his head, swept him off all fours and slammed his face onto the solid surface. A thunderstruck scream of pain and shock erupted from within, while the control of his jaw had perished, and teeth violently loosened from the gums. Words cannot describe the despair, the shock, and the fear in which he underwent in these very moments. Soppy tears had begun puddling in their sockets, and the process of crying had only sped up when the hyperventilating commenced. But Stryker did not relent. Very shortly after making mincemeat out of Wendell’s jaw and chompers, he elevated his victim and continued his dental work.

Weak gasps and feeble cries slipped out of the Sunhavener’s gullet whilst one of the lion’s aforementioned knifelike claws penetrated swollen gums, and tugging out the the pearly whites unaffected by the initial attack. Blood pooled in his unresponsive mouth, only to drip down his hung chin once it began to overflow.

His form once again met the ground, this time in an agonized collapse. Gags as strong punches rocked his midsection, an unpleasant mixture of blood an what may have been last night’s meal brewing together below.

”Ready for the next part?”

No he was not. He didn’t even want a next part. No. He wanted to be at home, to be with those who had respected him, to coincide in a society of kindness and compassion likewise to what was found in Snowbound. There, he’d share stories, and drink and eat to his heart’s content.

"Arnckk..." was about as good a response anybody in his position could give. Right now, Wendell was unable to speak, nor would he ever do so again.

His chocolate hues, misty and flustered, glared expectantly at Stryker. At least for the next part, whatever horrors awaited him, he’d be prepared.

[Stryker]

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[glow=#000,2,300]☣ —[/glow] Wendell was once boastful. Ripping out his eyes would do nothing truly, at least in Stryker's mind. Despite Caesar's preferences, the teeth displayed a specific message to Wendell, along with his counterparts in Sunhaven. After all, if Wendell would of never spoke up in the middle of his takeover, there would of been a lack of escapees. The wolverine's first outspoken cry for their freedom caused his downfall. As a result, he would never speak again. Was it cruel? Of course. Did he regret it? No. Those that wronged him deserved to suffer.

There had to be now. With Wendell's word, the ivory lion moved ahead with his plans. In a moment of silence, he produced a plain piece of scroll parchment and began to write. A bloodied claw acted as his pen. Meanwhile, his large paw was his signature.

'Greetings Sunhaven,

Thank you for taking part in The Typhoon's raid against the Pitt. The Pitt enjoyed plowing all of you into the desert sand. My white fur was stained with crimson for days! Afterwards, I hope you enjoyed our lovely shitstorm from our avian friends. Marina did not enjoy that... Can't blame her though. Next time you do take action against us though, you will gladly be receiving the full force of The Pitt.

You've been warned.

Be more careful next time,
Stryker

P.S. Hello Buckingham...'

Once finished, a neon gaze shifted off to the side in search of materials. Mischievous hues landed on the teeth. Out of the pile, he picked the sharpest two. His other paw hovered back over towards the wolverine, aiming to pick him up by the scruff and observe him momentarily. Where could he fit such a note? After a few moments, Stryker let out a satisfied grunt and dropped the smaller creature back onto the floor. He would land with his left side up. The ivory lion wouldn't bother pinning him down this time, as it seemed as if he had finally succumbed to the pain. "I'm calling this one..." He paused to think. "... Blind-sided." A second later, a note was throw onto the wolverine's side and was nailed into Wendell's skin with his own teeth. It was quick, but definitely not painless.

Bloodied paws finally pulled away. "And we're done," he enthused with a crooked smile. "If you would like to go back home, you may now... Unless you'd like to soak in your own tears for awhile?" As long as his note was delivered, he was satisfied.

[Stryker]

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