02-17-2019, 04:37 AM
(This post was last modified: 02-22-2019, 03:00 PM by Rin..)
[align=center]  can we just quit breathing â€â€
[table]
He did not know how many days they had been traveling. The snow had become more apparent the closer they got to the mountains. The view of them; Rin saw them simply as white capped blue humps. The shifts in the climate from moderate to colder and dryer. The air raw and gnawing at anything exposed for its teeth to tease at. Were the Bad Lands really so much worse than this forsaken winter wonderland? Numerous times this happened to be his complaint, and just as many times it was met with that these winter wonderlanders were a much more kinder folk. Rin certainly hoped his friends were right because this weather did not explain why a bunch of nice, friendly peoples would find a home in such a less forgiving environment.
Those were the kind of banters he tended to have if at all with those friends. Two people who were unnecessarily accepting of his reclusive and anti-social behaviors. Rin never told them he liked them because he did not think he need to or knew how. But now he certainly would never see the chance arise. The time now was two days past, and all he could really see before him was what his mind feverishly replayed. Two days past, what he witnessed and what he felt. The cold was nothing compared to those hours he had endured with his friends. A seemingly band of what his friends had imagined to be Flintlockers, the winter wonderlanders, had been on a run or so they thought.
That one had waved his hands around excitedly and almost hopped about like a child unable to contain their excitement. He had run over to them with a warm smile on his face despite the land's chill. Then the other friend had grinned in relief as well, she following in his footsteps. Those supposed winter wonderlanders, in alert looked up, unwelcoming. Rin recalled his stomach weighing down in that moment, like somehow he had swallowed a boulder and it could only sit uncomfortably in his digestive pit.
The vision flickered, flashing forwards to the moment she was shot. [i]shot? there were still usable guns? Yes, Rin. He learned from that moment bullets were still an existing resource. Rin was at her side and he was looking her up and down for her hope, for his relief, but her eyes returned nothing except a window pane. Her warmth would ebb away and her breaths were silenced, at least her passing was quicker than the other.
A hard shove and a neighboring cacophony rolled in next to his battered mass. They both picked their trashed heads up and looked at each other. He was always the one with a plan, they had all been pretty decent. They may have had their narrow escapes but they always had ended up working out. Rin had always thought this friend lucky and an abstract genius. The ellipses of fresh and rich hazel however held no such promises, no light. Only defeat, fear, and remorse. They had made a mistake, they had been to eager, and now here is where fate bestowed them their hastened price. They were not going to make it out alive. That is what those eyes across form his told Rin. This is where their adventure would end, and he was not wrong.
Rin had passed out from the excruciating pain. He had known those brutes had been asking him questions, but his mind and his motor skills were not connecting, were not cooperating. They were stuck, they had been in shock. His dull brown discs had been void, showing stupor as one of their men lumbered over to encourage Rin to speak. His friend had been offed already, joining the other, Rin had not even been aware of the conversation between them and his friend, nor how his death took place. Yet he was slumped there next to his buddy's corpse, slowly draining of color and eventually left to rot. Rin felt tears hot and stinging brimming his eyes and blurring his sight. name, name, name....name... Rin did not make an attempt to stifle his pain enriched yowls and bellows. The anguish of his friends' lost to oblivion and his own physical pain enduring were swelling to chaotically to mask. He had felt loneliness before, but this had been fresh and ...
Did they think he had died with the rest of them? Was he alive by some cheated throw of the dice? His head lulled to one side, there he was. His friend decomposing, slumped against a wall with a disheartened frown and eyes open in quiet despair. Familiar thin rivers began running from Rin's eyes to bring prickling heat to frosting cheeks. Rin's pitiful mumbling noises of anguish were ugly symphonies against the silence of the land. He sucked down mucus and bitter realization that he was alone and he needed to get up and move on. But what was there to move onto, where were they going again?
The cruel animals gone, having raided most of their valuable resources and equipment. His own shoes had been ransacked, along with several items from his friends bodies. It's too cold here to even bury them, the ground is frozen even if I could shovel away any snow... Snow, it came to this. He would use snow as dirt, a very make-shift burial that stabbed his heart icily. This was all he could do, was it not? But it was not enough, this, this was undeserved. ... ...
Now, two days later, trudging through the fields of white crystal flakes. How was he not afflicted with frostbite? Left to wear only socks, now wet and freezing, his faded gray pants, and his off white sweater that draped on him like he had been standing int he splash zone of a water roller coaster. He saw it, the place where his friends had encouraged him to tag along with and find. So that they could all find a nice place to be together and happy. But they were not even here anymore. Rin was here, this was Flint Lock, but he was not happy. He was not relieved. He felt just as flooded with their absence as he did when he concealed them in the unforgiving snow. Their lack of presence so powerful he had not yet once paid mind to his lame left arm. Rin had pushed forwards a little more, took a few more steps towards the cabins and the lodges as the onset of salt water showers began. His expressionless expression deflating to a 360 of a quivering, blubbering mess. Did he even really want to be here anymore?
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thes code
[b]RIn
[b]Trigger Warnings
 sadness, mentions of violence, death, onset of depression & griefing
status
 left arm lame & infected, needs to be amputated |
[/table]
02-18-2019, 04:23 AM
(This post was last modified: 02-18-2019, 07:40 PM by Rin..)
[align=center]  can we just quit breathing â€â€
[table]
Through thin liquid veils, Rin's eyes haphazardly locked with another pair of eyes belonging to a figure just his height. Between them, a staff of a wood he did not care to analyze; wielded at him in no other way than that of a weapon. Those water working orbs wilted to the stick and Rin's mind fell into an abyss heralding disappointment. [i]This is Flint Lock.
He did not expect people from all angles, crooks, and crannies to race to his aid and welcome him the way his friends had painted verbally the illusion of Flint Lock. Rin had hoped in fact that if this place was truly safe and sound that it would not just let anyone in, there were clearly dangerous people among the world. And in a clearer state of mind, actions and the perception of this figure in front of him could have made sense. Rin was a stranger who had stumbled in unannounced, a stray dog wandering into a pack. But Rin was not preserving that logic and understanding this time.
Rin's stained cheeks prickled with heat and his rheumy ellipses gained a new haze. Anger glossed those stressed ocular fibers. The failure of the journey, the feeling of their loss, and this slap in the face fueled Rin's frustrations with just about everything. His grasp on rational, one of a few things his friends knew him for, had slipped away into that bleak abyss. He was thinking very little and feeling heavily, lacking control of himself. Chapped lips brazened a snarl that held no noise and tears continued to troublesomely dirty his alabaster face. His left arm was a limb out of commission, it's presence felt but neglected having been swamped in his friend's loss. His right however tightened and bubbled with the same frustration, very much alive. Rin's right gripped the staff shaking in sweltering resentment, but other than that did not yet commit to anymore physical actions.
Rin wanted to pound this kid around like his friends and he had been. The rusty haired phantom was envisioning it now, using the stick pointed at him. He stood their boiling in his misguided hatred. Well, am I going to do it? Can I do it? Don't they deserve it? Doesn't he deserve it? Who was Rin even inquiring these thoughts to, no one but himself. Some pigment in his mind no matter how devoid of color knew that this wasn't someone he was going to displace his anger onto. However, he still did not let go of the wood sharing their hands. His grip was still malignant powered by his agony.
"Who are you... ...what's with your arm?"
Rin's brows knitted in uncertainty, was that concern or was that him mocking Rin? He tempered his urge to strike the stick back into the boy's direction, entertaining the result of it catching him in the abdomen and sending the person flying backwards onto the snow plastered earth. He did not yet know why he held back, why he chose to swallow his impulse for the time being and grind his teeth. Rin's voice trembled, having to fight to make sound as upset as he was. It was by no means bashful or shy, but vexed with despair and diluted by bitterness [b]"I'm ...I'm ...I'm Rin." His breaths were anything except placid and maybe not even normal. They were huffs and the lungs in his air and throat grated against their walls. His arm. He knew it wasn't in great shape, but was any part of him really? He hadn't given his loose hanging limb much attention. It being brought up now did incite partial acknowledgement to it painfully throbbing and the lower end of it numb. The pain however was still dulled by his adrenaline and his emotional turmoil. "What about my arm"
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thes code
RIn
[b]Trigger Warnings
 sadness, mentions of violence, death, onset of depression & grieving
status
 left arm lame & infected, needs to be amputated |
[/table]
[align=center][div style="width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-family: calibri; font-size: 8pt; color: black; line-height: 22px;"] ☁ tw for mentions of death and murder
hayley was no stranger to death, but she'd never truly known loss. she'd never lost a family member because she'd never known her own; she'd never lost a close friend because she moved on from friends before she could learn to really care. she'd had friends that had died, sure, but she'd buried them and moved on. she'd killed people before, though. kind as she might seem at times, too many times had she taken a life without a moment of hesitation. too many times had she washed the blood off of her hands and kept moving. she wasn't a monster, she took no pleasure in killing, and most of the guilt still plagued her, but it was a kill or be killed world, and she chose herself, time and time again.
she didn't care about herself anymore, though. she cared about her daughter, the nearly-two-month old baby she shared with jackson. she'd kill without hesitation, she'd murder in cold blood for hopes sake. however, she didn't want to. she didn't want hope to grow up in a world where people killed each other, where blood was spilled carelessly and life meant nothing. she didn't want hope to ever need to learn what it felt like to bleed, to fight, to kill. it was why hayley chose a place like flintlock for her and her daughter. and when she'd turned up at the border all those months ago, halfway through her pregnancy, she hadn't ever imagined she'd lead it. all she'd known then was that she wanted to find a place for hope to be born into, to grow up in, to be okay in. as far as hayley cared, if hope's greatest struggle was learning how to properly build a fire, then that was alright with her.
as she spotted rin in the cold, looking half alive, her heart seized. so long ago, when hope had still just been a bump on her form, she'd promised her daughter that she would do her best to be kind, to raise her in a world where that kindness prevailed. so it was for that exact reason that hayley broke into a run, shrugging her outermost coat off as she grew closer, and moved to place it around rin's shoulders.
❝holy shit,❞ she whispered breathlessly, flurries of white getting caught in the brown curls tied back from her face, remaining there for a moment before melting, ❝lets get you inside, we've got a lodge up ahead,❞ she said and glanced at brendan. ❝go ahead of us, go find mickey.❞ she knew the man had medical experience, and frankly, they'd need it. a side eyed glance at rin's arm alarmed her, and her stomach twisted. too many people who turned up on their mountain needed to get a toe or a finger removed, and much as she hoped this wouldn't be necessary again, if they had to... she had to hope it wouldn't go badly.
JUST STANDING WAITING FOR THE PUNCHES
tw for mentions of death
Tomorrow knew death, perhaps not so much as many others. He did know pain however, and he knew there were many worse things that could be done to a person outside of simply killing them. He'd never voice that, and he wasn't exactly a depressive person; he was just... Aware.
He noticed the small commotion as he saw Brendan darting back towards the Lodge as he was exiting, and then saw Hayley and a stranger outside in the snow. That wasn't exactly an uncommon occurrence; plenty of wanderers showed up, half dead and freezing. He hadn't seen any with a limp arm though, or in such an obvious state of shock.
Hurrying outside, his dog Jeremiah at his heels, he stopped a few feet away from Hayley and the stranger. His rifle was slung over his back, but Tomorrow made no move to draw it; he doubted this man would be trouble, and he'd always been told to never aim at someone you weren't prepared to shoot.
"Gods- yeah, c'mon sir. Let's get you inside and warmed up." Tomorrow said, concern clear on his face. He glanced at Hayley, noticing she'd given her outermost coat to the stranger, and his concern only grew. His most immediate thought was to offer his coat to her, but he didn't want to be too overbearing.
'cus it don't make a difference anyway
tags - 26yrs - 6'1 - he/him - representative of fl
[align=center]  can we just quit breathing â€â€
[table]
The tensity developing in the air did not quite ripen to fruition. Rin's ears in kind with his cheeks were kindling, his muzzled seething rested on Brendan. That heat obstructed his senses, unaware of Hayley moving towards them until he felt a large coat draped on his freezing form. Before Brendan, he knew he was cold and he knew that he needed warmth but his logic remained in error ever since reacting to being [i]greeted. Rin felt warm, not because he was sick, he was, but because he was still grasping to handle tempestuous emotions. And now this jacket wrapping around him made him want to immediately shed it.
His head whipped backwards to see who had strode up and mounted the insulated fabric over him. Fury glazed eyes sunk for a moment as the woman did not hold a lick of wary or caution. Just purpose, just something that made his anger revert back to the chimes of despair- Hazel eyes, ah, that's what it is. Name. The memory of his friend, that small eternity of sharing his gaze of knowing the end was near before it came. All hatred that was bristling had subsided for this time, his grip weakened and his rebelling muted. Brown discs sharing the depth of a black void simply drifted away from those hazel reminders and into an insignificant space before him. The stick he was still handling seemingly writhed and whisked itself free from his clutches. The mess [Rin] presented the two storming clouds a look of simple acknowledgement as storm brewer shamelessly poked him with his staff. It wasn't enough to push him back, but the message was clear. Something probably along the lines of "I don't like you" or even "You're an ass". And then the male was off to fulfill the woman's plead.
Rin was tired of caring about him and fixating expectations onto the guy, though he would still displace some of his anger on these Flintlockers. But now he found it difficult with a woman who held the same eyes as one of his friend's. He could have otherwise been speculating the worry in her voice and the alarm in her facial features. Another stranger had flanked alongside them too, a similar tone of willing to aid. Rin presumed that character was male, he wasn't really looking in that man's direction but forward and slowly losing himself in another repeat-hallucination. His feet persisted to sludge onward. Hayley really being the force that coaxed pitiful momentum of prints added into the snow.
[b]"Tell me you have a plan... tell me..."
"No Rin... not... not this time."
Rin swallowed, squeezing his eyes and then looked up, his friend. Name� Next to him was still the woman Hayley but Rin saw differently. He saw his friend, what was he doing here? But it wasn't him in all his glory, no. His battered mass, discolored flesh, the stains of blood and other fluid on his clothes the little clothes that were left on him. It was a horror, a nightmare and yet he found a slight of comfort knowing eh was there. But why like this? Why like this? He proceeded to ask Hayley in a mumbled mess questions he meant for name. "Why are you here? Why do you look like this? Are you coming back?"
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thes code
RIn
[b]Trigger Warnings
 sadness, mentions of violence, death, onset of depression & grieving
status
 left arm lame & infected, needs to be amputated
- might have hypothermia idk it's been 2 days? |
[/table]
[align=center][div style="background=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 420px; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 125%; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; color: black"]
 the day had been unusually quiet. that was what mick had decided as he sat outside the lodge, smoking a cigarette- the usual. he released the smoke slowly into the air, gaze turning up to the sky momentarily in thought. the quiet always rendered the man a bit paranoid. in the hospital or clinical setting, he’d learned that the peaceful silence was foreboding. if things were quiet, usually it only foreshadowed bad events to come. his gaze flickered over to a figure that had appeared and, judging by the look on brendan’s face as he came closer to the lodge, he suspected that he had been right along.
last thing he’d expected, though, was for brendan to be the carrier of bad news to him, specifically. by the time he figured that out, brendan was telling him the news -- or, more specifically, that hayley wanted him. usually if hayley urgently needed something from someone, it wasn’t for no reason. throwing his cigarette on the ground, he stepped on it to put it out before heading towards where they were. he supposed they were coming to the lodge, but he might as well meet them halfway to see what he had to deal with. he saw the commotion, hayley and tomorrow and a stranger coming into view as he neared them. he opened his mouth to ask what they would need him for, only to close it as he stared at the stranger’s current state. oh. now it was glaringly obvious. stoic, his gaze wandered the other male before saying, “let’s get him to the lodge. i should be able to help.†the more he assessed the man’s wounds, the more he realized what dire need of medical attention he was in. the longer they waited to help him, though, the less luck was in their favor.
“i’m mickey. i’m going to help patch up that arm,†he introduced as he walked alongside the group, searching the other’s gaze- shock. the man must’ve encountered quite the traumatic event, if it rendered his arm in this poor condition, along with his entire being seeming to be in such a shocked state. his gaze wandered from the man’s eyes, and found his gaze settled on the worst of the man’s injuries; his arm. “how long has your arm been like this?â€Â
he’d come to the lodge on what he thought would be his final breaths; he owed flintlock for everything, including his life. he wasn’t going to let other people who arrived in his same condition meet any fate different than his. regardless of what he had to do - and the prognosis deemed a very dangerous procedure at hand - he’d try his damned best to make sure the stranger came out of it with his life.
[align=center]  can we just quit breathing â€â€
[table]
Around him, the environment was slowing and feeling was numb, he no longer felt hot or cold. His friend wasn't answering any of his questions now despite the numerous ones Rin implored to him. The ghastly figure just stared back at him with those hazel orbs. And then they quit sharing Rin's gaze and looked forward in the direction they were moving. Rin would have been hysterical if not for how exhausted and afflicted he was, what would have been yells and cries out for [i]Name were repetitive whispers churning out in uneven breaths. Saltwater prickled at the rims of his eyes before slipping down and becoming silent salt-falls. His head had been lolling and when he picked it up to look up again it was the woman, his friend no longer there at all. His footfalls became less and lesser, barely attempting to offer any stride at all. The halting was proving obvious and the urgency in the woman was felt through hasted breaths and slight shoves to encourage him to keep going. But he didn't want to, where did he go? Name? A few more light pushes and futile nudges to the statue, dazed and suffocating in thought. And he crumpled.
Hands, or rather his right hand caught the white crystal powder flattened onto the ground, while imbalanced his left side teetered over onto a majority of his limp arm. the impact may have stung and sent some shock through him but he was too overwhelmed with whatever he had been seeing prior. [b]"What is this," he half sneered and half whined. He was incredulous, "what's going on? I just where did he go? And where is she at?" He knew, he knew where they were, if only a clear head he could confirm his own questions. His ears caught more footsteps, new ones hurrying over. Rin's head swiveled to perceive who it could be, one of them. Of course it wasn't, a new face with blue eyes and a mane of dark colored locks.
"I'm Mickey, I'm going to help patch up that arm," He bored his lifeless blank discs into the man before him. Then he tentatively moved to review the arm he could only be referring to, his left. He dug his vision into it as if he had X-ray sight, recalling the reality of events. How he traveled for two days ill-equipped in this winter wasteland, those being just after the fact his friends had been bodied. The arm having faced the most severe of the wrath from those strangers, and then quite possibly infected with tissues and cells dying. He stared at it utterly still-faced, then he grimaced, and then he laughed. It was a pitiful, disgusting, and disturbing sound; through the ll chuckling he managed to offer some means of helpful information, "It's It's been tw-hoo two days and I finally found your your stupid freakingâ€â€" he screamed in frustration. Not once but several times, that anger suddenly returning but also using up even more of the little energy he held. His voice was ragged from the strain on his vocals and he sputtered out quietly, "Only now we finally found you guys."
They may have had something to say about his episode, but he was to tired to care again. His whole body felt numb now and after they had made it into the lodge Rin attempt to shed the jacket off not really interested in wearing it any longer. There was a fire going in a fireplace, the crackling a succulent sound to his ears. It was inviting him to sleep, and he invited himself to rest in an armed, sofa chair. His hair was wet from the flakes of ice and snow melting after finding a home in his mane. His eyes dried by dehydration and fatigue closed, heavy. The fire's light cast upon the objects, people, and walls in the room creating shadows that dance with it's counterpart. Now if everyone would leave him maybe he could just sleep forever.
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thes code
RIn
[b]Trigger Warnings
 sadness, mentions of violence, death, onset of depression & grieving
status
 left arm lame & infected, needs to be amputated
- might have hypothermia idk it's been 2 days? |
[/table]
[align=center][div style="background=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 420px; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 125%; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; color: black"]tw; mentions of amputation
 two days. that was all the information he compiled as the other began to scream out of frustration. he gazed at the other, stoic. he supposed he should let the other’s actions slide, seeing as he was probably faced with a lot of trauma, and perhaps all of the shock from whatever traumatic event was beginning to wear off. he waited until the other stopped screaming before saying, “alright.†and that was all he really felt to say on that topic. everybody had their own upsetting history; sometimes it really felt like screaming would make it all better. to mick, though, screaming just seemed like a waste of energy, a waste of time. it was a lot easier to drown sorrows with cigarettes and alcohol. he wasn’t going to push his bad habits onto anyone else though; they were his person choice of poison, and he wasn’t going to taint others with the same habit.
as they finally made it into the lodge, he helped to guide the other man into the lodge. the man had invited himself to rest in a chair- and it wasn’t exactly the most convenient place for mick to do his dirty work, but he supposed that he didn’t quite have a choice at this moment. he moved the other’s sleeve carefully to take a look at the injury, finding himself hum to himself in thought. this was going to be risky, and dangerous, but at this point, he really didn’t have a choice. “somebody get me a med kit, some towels and-†he paused for a moment, sucking in a quick breath before adding;
“and somebody find me a saw.â€Â
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
after all was said and done, mick could only then wipe the sweat of concentration off his brow. it had been quite the procedure, but all he could truly hope was that it all hadn’t been in vain. he just wanted the best for all of his patients; granted, this wasn’t necessarily the hospital setting he’d always dreamed of working, but it was as close to it as he was going to get. he’d gone through the best of amputating the arm- above the elbow, trans-humeral… not exactly a procedure in which he specialized, but one that he had successfully managed to do, nonetheless. the man’s arm had been carefully cauterized to prevent infection and blood loss, and honestly… mick felt like he had done a good enough job. it was all in rin’s hands to fight to live, now, he supposed.
[align=center][table] texthere | texthere | [/table]
[table] TRANSPARENT TEXT | [/table]
[table] texthere | texthere | [/table]
[table]  THANK YOU FOR PARTICIPATING  | [/table]
[table] texthere | texthere | [/table]
[table] TRANSPARENT TEXT | [/table]
[table] [member=9508]mickey[/member], [member=9547]tomorrow[/member], [member=3586]BRENDAN[/member], [member=9457]HAYLEY[/member] | [/table]
[table] TRANSPARENT TEXT | [/table]
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