when the levee breaks — DUMP

[oddi]

[align=center][div style="width: 370px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 1.4; color: black;"]— hello! this thread is gonna be a completely disorganized spot for me to just throw,,, whatever. this is p much reserved for my tnw characters. feel free to track n chat here!!

[oddi]

[align=center][div style="width: 370px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 1.4; color: black;"]— SEALING FATE
(tw: murder, violent language)

Rain thrummed upon the roof of the sprawling library that Colt found himself inside, alone. He sat at one end of a long, wooden table, surrounded by shelves filled with thousands upon thousands of books. It was quiet, though the ancient building would occasionally creak in the heavy winds. The air was warm, dry; specks of dust glittered in the orange light of the multitudes of old candles that kept the place aglow.

The boy was fidgeting with his hands on the table, doing his best not to look around. The Grand Hall - it was his first time actually being in here alone. The silence was deafening; it left a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach. It had been nearly an hour since he'd arrived. The long wait time was a test, he knew - to evaluate his patience. Damn them for still doubting him, even when they were days from sending him out on a real solo.

He could hear a door on the opposite side of the giant room open. And then there were footsteps. Ringleader emerged from the darkness, a long, black coat mostly obscuring his hulking form. With a sigh, he grabbed a chair and dragged it across the marble floor over to where Colt was. He then sat down in it, loudly slaming his hands down in the process. Colt couldn't stop himself from flinching at the noise and sudden movement.

Ringleader snickered. "Colton Madison, look at you. Think you're finally ready to get out on a big boy job, huh?" He leaned back, running his fingers over his beard.
"I've been ready," Colt answered pointedly, narrowing his eyes. "You know that, too. Not sure why you've kept me in the training program so long."
"Oh, you know why, boy." Ringleader leaned forward, putting his face in Colt's. "It's because you're a little shit who doesn't listen to a word that I say."
"I'm a better merc than half of the guys you sent out last year-"
"Doesn't matter. My word is law here - that's how it works. The only reason you haven't been fed to the dogs just yet is because you're lucky enough to have been born with an inkling of talent, and I'm not keen on wasting it. Still, you're on thin ice." He scowled, pinching the bridge of his nose and sitting back.

"There's some formalities that I'm supposed to be followin' but frankly I don't give a shit. Better for the Ring if we just drop all of that cult secret society crap and just do our jobs." He cleared his throat. "Xavier, get out here and give the kid his gig details." As requested, the Ringleader's Second approached from where he'd been lurking in the darkness, glaring daggers at Colt. He set down a file of papers in front of the younger mercenary with a frown.

"The client has requested the assassination of Edmund Stirling, Captain of the militia in the Flintlock Lodge and - more importantly - head of the Stirling crime syndicate." As Xavier spoke, Colt picked up the photograph that had been taped to the front of the file, turning it over in his hands with a frown. It was some blonde guy, looked to be in his early twenties. "So what, he's like a mafia leader or somethin'?"

"Mhm. Very perceptive of you," Xavier shot back, barely able to keep from rolling his eyes. "He and his family spearheaded a massive illegal alcohol trade before the blackout. They also dabbled in gambling, stock manipulation, and, ah... contract killings."
Colt gave a curt laugh. "Seems pretty ironic."

"Look, kid, we don't pick our guys - we just flatline who our clients want us to flatline. And this client is willing to pay big bucks, so don't screw this up," Ringleader remarked, pushing the file towards Colt. "There's more info in here. The guy's pretty much surrounded by his lackeys at all times, so you're gonna have to wait it out a bit, find some alone time - that is, unless you think you can fight your way out. Client doesn't care if the job's messy, just wants it done."

"You'll leave tomorrow morning at sunrise," Xavier added, "The trip up the mountain will take a few days at least, and it is going to be rough this time of year. Expect plenty of snow and cold. Your gear and provisions will be left outside of your apartment door when you get up to leave."
"Sounds like a plan, chief."

"Colton - look at me." Ringleader grabbed the boy by the shoulders, glaring into his eyes. "Do NOT mess this up. We could make a lot of cash here. You kill this asshole and come back with his head, you and me are gonna be the kings of this place. You'll be a full-time merc, no questions asked. And we'll both be filthy rich. But if this Stirling guy isn't laying in a pile of his own guts for some reason by the end of the week, then I'll kill you myself instead."

Colt scoffed, brushing Ringleader's hands off of him and standing up. "Relax, old man. I'll get it done. You know me." He picked up the file, tucking it under his arm, starting to walk away. "Stirling will be dead by this weekend, just watch. And then you're never allowed to doubt me again." With that being said, Colt made a beeline for the library's exit.

It was time to prepare.

[oddi]

[spoiler=this is gonna b random gifs and pics for colt lol]

[/spoiler]

[truce.]

track !!

[KAITO LANCASTER.]

[align=center][div style="width: 370px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 1.4; color: black;"]— XAVIER MONTGOMERY
— 36 years old
— 6'4", 220 lbs.
— Long brown hair, brown eyes
— Mercenary for the Ring
— Currently undercover in Flintlock Lodge
— Narcissistic, manipulative, stubborn, cruel, greedy, intelligent, passionate, well-composed, charismatic, rational
— Very good at acting/hiding his motives
— An exceptional fighter with many years' experience

[oddi]

— JONAS BELMONT
— 20 years old?
— 5'8", 160 lbs.
— curly black hair, brown eyes (FC kit harrington)
— pretty reserved but a charismatic leader
— normally very friendly and warm, can hold a conversation well but just prefers to be alone when he can
— passionate and charming
— won't have a problem with you unless you have a problem with him - then he won't hold back
— extremely competitive in literally everything, even pointless things
— very loyal and very honest
— independent and STUBBORN af
— very emotionally guarded
— puts loved ones above all else

[guts]