won't go down easy — target practice , open .

[GREENIE.]

[align=center][div style="width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 6pt; letter-spacing: 2.5px; word-spacing: 0px; line-height: 12px; color: #000"]People can do a lot worse things than kill you.

Feet were rooted to the earth, and the look in his eyes was bitter. Angry. It wasn’t clear who was to blame for the emotion; was it the disgust of The Badlands greedy ways, or was it the disgust in himself for being too powerless to stop them? Green understood when to fight and when to step down, but how could he yield to The Badlands’ ambitions time after time again? Preventing a skirmish in the District could benefit the Northerners in the here and now whilst The Badlands were raiding, but leaving Northerners entirely empty-handed for the days and weeks to come did them no justice at all. It only prolonged the suffering.

Lip quivered, a look of focus in his gaze, and then he released. The arrow whirred through the air, penetrating the trunk of the tree just outside of the District’s city walls. Each nearby tree was revealed to have targets painted on the trunks for the increasingly frequent target practice that Green had been abiding by daily. This was the new normal again, the primal desire to survive rather than to live in harmony. Whilst Green could desperately try to replicate a safe haven in Northstar District, no amount of integrity and righteousness could withstand the powers of immorality. Green could not understand how The Badlands could kick Northstar District when they were already down, steal from the poor and leave the vulnerable for dead.

Green wanted to do something about it, anything to right the wrongs here in the District. And so, he’d do what he knew best. Drawing his bow, he aimed with three arrows with his draw hand, firing in quick succession one after the next until three bullseyes were struck by an arrow. Nostrils flared, gaze darting across his wordless victory, before continuing to practice his archery. He’d do so until the time was right.

After all, even a worm would turn.

[mickey]

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— mickey walked a path with a knowing look across his features, a sense of familiarity in his steps as he made his way just outside of the city walls. once he reached his destination, he slowed to a stop and observed green’s archery skills come to life. others would have been stood in shock and surprise to see the other man’s shots, all fired one after the other, perfect and precise shots; mickey, on the other hand, was well aware of just how talented vernon green was with a bow and arrow in his hands. he knew he’d find him out here yet again; it was a new routine, to find green out daily practicing his archery skills. it didn’t take much thought to know why he felt the need to do so; those skills might be put to the test, down the line.

he was too much of a pessimist not to think about the situation the district found themselves in. each time the district felt like they were patching up open wounds, the badlands returned and simply ripped off the bandaid. peoples’ wills and patience was running thin; what could they do?

mickey despised pondering over their options.

stepping closer, he went to stand at green’s side, observing the bullseyes marking the three trees. as often as mick tried to bring himself to learn how to be even half the archer that green was, he doubted he would ever get close to hitting the mark. vern could teach him as much as he possibly could, though the other man possessed a certain skill that nobody else really had. he was so talented; how could people even try and overlook such an impressive skill?

“amazing as always,” he remarked, tearing his gaze away from the trees to look towards his partner. “how long did it take you to get so good at archery, anyway?”

[spoiler=tags ― updated 05/18.][size=8pt]◜BASICS ┊ BURIED MY HEART IN A HOLE IN THE GROUND ◞
‣  ❝ mickey serge ❞ | mick, serge | male [he/him] .
‣ 34 years old . | may fifth; taurus.
‣  currently the prodigy of northstar district
‣  currently co-founder/co-head of st. peter’s clinic in the district alongside lucerne nouvel.

◜PERSONALITY: ISFJ ┊ THERE WAS NO ONE AROUND ◞
‣  aloof . ambitious . blunt . distant . driven . hard-working . passionate . humble . reserved . introverted . intelligent . level-headed . trustworthy . honest . caring . quiet . gentlemanly . kind . pessimistic . unreadable . stoic . withdrawn .
↳ lover of tea and cigarettes
↳ struggles with ptsd symptoms
↳ recovering alcoholic (over a year sober)
↳ currently showing signs/symptoms of depression following his mother's death

◜ APPEARANCE ┊ BURIED MY GUILT IN A PIT IN THE SOUND ◞
‣ six foot one & one hundred and sixty seven pounds ; reference .
↳ dark brown hair kept very short on the sides and neat
↳ skinny with slight muscle tone
↳ deep blue eyes , often stoic , emotionless

◜ FAMILY ┊ I TRIED AND I TRIED AND I WAS NEVER THE SAME ◞
‣  david serge x tamara serge | father deceased . mother recently deceased
‣ only child
‣ currently claims guardianship of arlo - doesn’t consider himself arlo’s parent

◜ RELATIONSHIPS ┊ I'LL BREAK UP THE CHAIN ◞
‣  homosexual ; monogamous | a hopeless romantic .
‣ ex-fiance to elinor rose
↳ engagement fell apart after coming to terms with mick’s sexuality .
‣  ex-lover to edmund stirling-moray
↳ the first guy he had ever been with . helped him become comfortable with his sexuality before coming out of the closet.
‣ current boyfriend of vernon green
↳ currently live together . inseparable .

◜ INTERACTIONS ┊ I'M FOREVER CHANGED ◞
‣  [ 9/10 ] physically  |  [ 8/10 ] psychologically .
↳ difficulty w/ guns [ very difficult ] | difficulty w/ melees [ difficult ] | difficulty w/ hand-to-hand [ difficult ]
‣ [member=1512]elysian.[/member] | dm for any major plots .
‣  friendly or nonviolent actions may be powerplayed .[/size][/spoiler]

[GREENIE.]

[align=center][div style="width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 6pt; letter-spacing: 2.5px; word-spacing: 0px; line-height: 12px; color: #000"]Never had Vernon wished upon himself the position he was in today, the day where he would begin to weaponize a hobby that he had adored all his lifetime. He had lost everything in his life except for the sentiment that archery brought him, the memories of being taught by his foster family in their rather large backyard, adorned delicately with shrubbery and flora. The scent of saline lingered in the air from the ocean shoreline not far from their front door, and young Vernon would stand practicing outdoors every day because archery was the only thing which could focus the highly strung, traumatised child’s grieving mind.

And it certainly worked, a caring feat that Vernon would forever be grateful for when it came to his foster family. They were good to him, so unaware of the life that Green would be living today. A life so worthy of living, of enjoying, and yet one which — in the present — brought him nothing but a time of tribulation.

He would forever remain humble when it came to his skillset — Green could not say that he was good at very much, but archery was something that he’d tried to perfect for many, many years. But he was never that good at fighting when all instincts told him to run. He was rarely the vicious type, much preferred passiveness if he had the choice, but The Badlands was wearing him thin. They had given him an ultimatum that no man like Green could ever wish upon his worst of enemies: give up now, or fight tooth and nail for their safety. He had battled The Badlands once; was his luck running out?

Turning to peer across at his boyfriend, Green’s lips slowly began to twitch into a smile, looking between the targets and Mickey. ❝ You think so? ❞ He questioned, shrugging coyly before wandering over to collect his arrows. ❝ I’m not the best, but… it needs to be done. ❞ He began to pluck the arrows from the targets, then turning to wander back towards Mickey. ❝ I started when I was what? Nine? So that’s been around… ❞ He tried to count backwards, taking a long few seconds before he said, ❝ How many years is that? Seventeen? ❞

He lowered his bow as he watched the targets for a moment, a sickening feeling in his chest at the thought of those targets potentially being people someday, until he eventually uttered, ❝ Mick, we need to do something. ❞ Glancing over towards his boyfriend, worried about how Mick will inevitably react to Green’s next words, Green shrugged the bow and arrows in his hands before he began to speak.

❝ I can’t sit around and wait for everyone to starve to death. I was supposed to protect everyone so… I need to do my job right this time. I’m gonna go to The Badlands and get our stuff back, okay? It’s the only way, and there’s no changing my mind... Tell me you’ll look out for Arlo? If anything happens, he can’t lose you too. Please? ❞

Desperation was a dangerous motivating factor. Green would go to his death if he had to in order to protect the people he loved. What made it even more dangerous was that he knew Mick was exactly the same, and suddenly Green had so much more to lose than his life.