08-03-2018, 06:12 PM
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[glow=grey,2,300]JONATHAN CROW -- TAGS[/glow]
TW BLOOD AND DEATH
A year ago...
The library was quiet, dust swirling in the tremulous gold sunlight that streamed from tall glass windows. Jonathan sat upon a cushioned chair, one leg crossed over the other, a tome about psychology locked within his slender fingers, cold eyes of icy blue intent upon the yellowed, bent pages. It was a fantastic find, particularly since the book focused on phobias, from the most well know to the obscure. A certain fascination for Jonathan. The slightest hint of a focused smile slithered across the man's facial features as he continued to read, until footsteps snatched his attention. Still, he didn't look up from the words that flashed before his glacial eyes. Instead, he waited for the other man to speak, seeing leather boots out of the corner of his vision, lingering in his shadow.
"And how is the most handsome man in the world today?" The other male would inquire in a bright voice. That was when Jonathan glanced up, his smile widening in a smooth display.
"Oh, I don't know. How are you?" Jonathan grinned as the words left his mouth. Letting his gaze flicker across Cullen's face, he noticed the blush that had accumulated upon the other man's cheeks.
"I...well. I'm doing quite okay, I think." Cullen rubbed at the back of his neck with a hand, a common action, Jonathan took note. Something Cullen did when he was nervous. Jonathan glanced back toward the book, neglecting to respond for a moment, letting the silence stretch between them, but it wasn't awkward, nor was it tense. It was a relaxed quietness, a casualness spreading through the atmosphere between them. Finally, after finishing his page, Jonathan placed a red ribbon bookmark into the paper and closed the hard covered tome shut.
"That's good." The man finally spoke. "Find what you were looking for?"
"No. But you clearly found something interesting. Planning to keep that old book?" Cullen inquired with a teasing jab, a soft smile flitting across his face. Despite their friendship, sometimes it was evident that there was something more between them, and each day it blossomed further.
"Of course." Jonathan returned the smile, a glimmer in his blue eyes. "Let's get out of here before we get caught." The library was off limits, asides from the few of the higher authoritative figures in the small group they had lingered within. Sometimes knowledge came with a price, and in this case, that price would be their lives should the leader of the group discover their intrusion. Jonathan stood from the cushioned chair, tucking the book into his backpack before turning toward the exit. With Cullen following close behind, hand gripping the hilt of his sword, they made their way out into the sunshine, glad to find that there was no patrol waiting for them on the other side. It seemed as if they had gotten away free of any charges.
--------------------------------------
The sun was scorching, beating down upon them, lashing their sweaty figures. The desert landscape was gritty and heated, the sandy breeze sweltering as it assaulted their features. Despite their thin clothing, the hot atmosphere was choking them, but they knew that somewhere up ahead, there was supposed to be a town.
"Wait, Jon." Cullen's voice grabbed Jonathan's attention, and, panting, he turned to find the other man resting in the shadow of a tall cactus. "Wait a moment for me to catch my breath."
Jonathan nodded, and moved closer, until he lurked within the shade as well. It didn't offer much protection from the sun, but at least he couldn't feel it beating down on his head anymore. He wondered if his face was sun-burnt. It felt dry, though not quite like his tongue. It was evident that they were both dehydrated. They had used the last of their supplies nearly three miles back, and the town that was supposed to be in the area was their last hope.
A half hour later, and the two took note of three individuals approaching their position, two men, and one woman. They left shadows in the desert as they slipped closer, clearly healthy and confident. Jonathan figured they must have been from the nearby town. When the trio approached, growing close enough to speak, the lead male called out, "This is Badlands territory. What's your business?" He growled. The Badlands? Jonathan had heard rumors about them, but nothing more.
"No business. Just passing through. Perhaps you could share some water?" He inquired. The woman in the group laughed, a hissing sound like a serpentine whisper.
"We don't give out free water. But we do give out free beatings to trespassers." She offered with a smirk, lifting her clenched fists. Behind him, Jonathan felt Cullen tense. Jonathan reminded himself that they were both armed, his friend with a steel sword and him with a scythe, hanging from his back, it's curved blade glinting in the beating sunlight. The two men stood from where they had been sitting in the shade. Two against three. They were dangerous odds, but Cullen was a damn fine warrior, and Jonathan was quick on his feet and agile, given his lanky figure.
"We'll just be leaving." Jonathan stated sternly. But his hand was inching toward his back as the Badlanders shifted into attack position. It was evident that there was to be a fight. The woman leaped first, surging forward with blinding speed. Her dagger danced before Jonathan's eyes, and he snatched her wrist to prevent the blade from plunging into his gut. Ripping his scythe from his back, his swung the gleaming blade through the dusty atmosphere and sent it lashing toward the woman.
"Jonathan!" Cullen's warning came too late. Jonathan felt a heavy weight fall upon his head from behind, and darkness and white hot pain swelled within his vision as he fell.
When he finally peeled his eyes apart once more, grit between his lids and covering his face, he saw a horrific scene before him. The three Badlanders were beating a battered and heavily injured Cullen on the ground. They didn't seem to care that the other man had lost his sword and was thus unarmed and therefore no longer a threat. They seemed to be torturing him for the fun of it, judging by their laughter. Jonathan groaned quietly as he lifted himself off the ground, picking up his scythe from where it lay nearby. Upon silent limbs he crept forward, until he lingered behind the figure of the woman. Raising his scythe, Jonathan brought the blade down upon her head, chopping into the skull with practiced ease. She dropped to the earth, dead at his feet.
"Cullen, run!" Jonathan called out in desperation as the two enemy men advanced upon him with savage, feral fury etched upon their faces. But Cullen was wounded, horribly so, and bleeding badly. All his friend could manage was a inaudible grumble. One of The Badlands lunged while Jonathan was distracted by Cullen's appearance, piercing his ribcage with a sharpened dagger. Calling out in pain, Jonathan swung his scythe with blurred strength through the air, catching the other man in the side of the chest and slicing deep into flesh. Blood gushing from the injury, the other man slumped over and fell face down in the sand. The last Badlander hesitated, seeing his companion fall, but anger drove him onward. Jonathan parried a strike from a knife with the wood shaft of his scythe before lashing out with the weapon once more, slamming the arched blade into the Badlander's leg, burrowing deep into skin and muscle. The Badlander had time to scream before Jonathan brought the weapon down on his head.
With the threats dispatched, Jonathan returned to Cullen's side, but he soon discovered that it was far too late. His friend was limp, lacking breath, dead and gone. Throwing back his head, Jonathan emitted an anguished wail for the passing of his closest friend. Rage consumed him, and in that moment, he was determined. The Badlands would pay. Since meeting Cullen, The Scarecrow hadn't demanded suffering from as many victims, but now the creature was unleashed once more, and it's enemies would know fear.
thes code
TW BLOOD AND DEATH
A year ago...
The library was quiet, dust swirling in the tremulous gold sunlight that streamed from tall glass windows. Jonathan sat upon a cushioned chair, one leg crossed over the other, a tome about psychology locked within his slender fingers, cold eyes of icy blue intent upon the yellowed, bent pages. It was a fantastic find, particularly since the book focused on phobias, from the most well know to the obscure. A certain fascination for Jonathan. The slightest hint of a focused smile slithered across the man's facial features as he continued to read, until footsteps snatched his attention. Still, he didn't look up from the words that flashed before his glacial eyes. Instead, he waited for the other man to speak, seeing leather boots out of the corner of his vision, lingering in his shadow.
"And how is the most handsome man in the world today?" The other male would inquire in a bright voice. That was when Jonathan glanced up, his smile widening in a smooth display.
"Oh, I don't know. How are you?" Jonathan grinned as the words left his mouth. Letting his gaze flicker across Cullen's face, he noticed the blush that had accumulated upon the other man's cheeks.
"I...well. I'm doing quite okay, I think." Cullen rubbed at the back of his neck with a hand, a common action, Jonathan took note. Something Cullen did when he was nervous. Jonathan glanced back toward the book, neglecting to respond for a moment, letting the silence stretch between them, but it wasn't awkward, nor was it tense. It was a relaxed quietness, a casualness spreading through the atmosphere between them. Finally, after finishing his page, Jonathan placed a red ribbon bookmark into the paper and closed the hard covered tome shut.
"That's good." The man finally spoke. "Find what you were looking for?"
"No. But you clearly found something interesting. Planning to keep that old book?" Cullen inquired with a teasing jab, a soft smile flitting across his face. Despite their friendship, sometimes it was evident that there was something more between them, and each day it blossomed further.
"Of course." Jonathan returned the smile, a glimmer in his blue eyes. "Let's get out of here before we get caught." The library was off limits, asides from the few of the higher authoritative figures in the small group they had lingered within. Sometimes knowledge came with a price, and in this case, that price would be their lives should the leader of the group discover their intrusion. Jonathan stood from the cushioned chair, tucking the book into his backpack before turning toward the exit. With Cullen following close behind, hand gripping the hilt of his sword, they made their way out into the sunshine, glad to find that there was no patrol waiting for them on the other side. It seemed as if they had gotten away free of any charges.
--------------------------------------
The sun was scorching, beating down upon them, lashing their sweaty figures. The desert landscape was gritty and heated, the sandy breeze sweltering as it assaulted their features. Despite their thin clothing, the hot atmosphere was choking them, but they knew that somewhere up ahead, there was supposed to be a town.
"Wait, Jon." Cullen's voice grabbed Jonathan's attention, and, panting, he turned to find the other man resting in the shadow of a tall cactus. "Wait a moment for me to catch my breath."
Jonathan nodded, and moved closer, until he lurked within the shade as well. It didn't offer much protection from the sun, but at least he couldn't feel it beating down on his head anymore. He wondered if his face was sun-burnt. It felt dry, though not quite like his tongue. It was evident that they were both dehydrated. They had used the last of their supplies nearly three miles back, and the town that was supposed to be in the area was their last hope.
A half hour later, and the two took note of three individuals approaching their position, two men, and one woman. They left shadows in the desert as they slipped closer, clearly healthy and confident. Jonathan figured they must have been from the nearby town. When the trio approached, growing close enough to speak, the lead male called out, "This is Badlands territory. What's your business?" He growled. The Badlands? Jonathan had heard rumors about them, but nothing more.
"No business. Just passing through. Perhaps you could share some water?" He inquired. The woman in the group laughed, a hissing sound like a serpentine whisper.
"We don't give out free water. But we do give out free beatings to trespassers." She offered with a smirk, lifting her clenched fists. Behind him, Jonathan felt Cullen tense. Jonathan reminded himself that they were both armed, his friend with a steel sword and him with a scythe, hanging from his back, it's curved blade glinting in the beating sunlight. The two men stood from where they had been sitting in the shade. Two against three. They were dangerous odds, but Cullen was a damn fine warrior, and Jonathan was quick on his feet and agile, given his lanky figure.
"We'll just be leaving." Jonathan stated sternly. But his hand was inching toward his back as the Badlanders shifted into attack position. It was evident that there was to be a fight. The woman leaped first, surging forward with blinding speed. Her dagger danced before Jonathan's eyes, and he snatched her wrist to prevent the blade from plunging into his gut. Ripping his scythe from his back, his swung the gleaming blade through the dusty atmosphere and sent it lashing toward the woman.
"Jonathan!" Cullen's warning came too late. Jonathan felt a heavy weight fall upon his head from behind, and darkness and white hot pain swelled within his vision as he fell.
When he finally peeled his eyes apart once more, grit between his lids and covering his face, he saw a horrific scene before him. The three Badlanders were beating a battered and heavily injured Cullen on the ground. They didn't seem to care that the other man had lost his sword and was thus unarmed and therefore no longer a threat. They seemed to be torturing him for the fun of it, judging by their laughter. Jonathan groaned quietly as he lifted himself off the ground, picking up his scythe from where it lay nearby. Upon silent limbs he crept forward, until he lingered behind the figure of the woman. Raising his scythe, Jonathan brought the blade down upon her head, chopping into the skull with practiced ease. She dropped to the earth, dead at his feet.
"Cullen, run!" Jonathan called out in desperation as the two enemy men advanced upon him with savage, feral fury etched upon their faces. But Cullen was wounded, horribly so, and bleeding badly. All his friend could manage was a inaudible grumble. One of The Badlands lunged while Jonathan was distracted by Cullen's appearance, piercing his ribcage with a sharpened dagger. Calling out in pain, Jonathan swung his scythe with blurred strength through the air, catching the other man in the side of the chest and slicing deep into flesh. Blood gushing from the injury, the other man slumped over and fell face down in the sand. The last Badlander hesitated, seeing his companion fall, but anger drove him onward. Jonathan parried a strike from a knife with the wood shaft of his scythe before lashing out with the weapon once more, slamming the arched blade into the Badlander's leg, burrowing deep into skin and muscle. The Badlander had time to scream before Jonathan brought the weapon down on his head.
With the threats dispatched, Jonathan returned to Cullen's side, but he soon discovered that it was far too late. His friend was limp, lacking breath, dead and gone. Throwing back his head, Jonathan emitted an anguished wail for the passing of his closest friend. Rage consumed him, and in that moment, he was determined. The Badlands would pay. Since meeting Cullen, The Scarecrow hadn't demanded suffering from as many victims, but now the creature was unleashed once more, and it's enemies would know fear.
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[b]IT'S DR. HORRIBLE'S TURN, YOU WILL ALL HAVE TO LEARN
THIS WORLD IS GOING TO BURN. HERE GOES NO MERCY.
[font=verdana][sub]jonathan crow [color=black]/ the scarecrow / badlands officer / avatar by mistress of fearTHIS WORLD IS GOING TO BURN. HERE GOES NO MERCY.