[ not a soldier — open, murder ]
#1
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—— it was quick- clean. without context one might think that the event had been planned, orchestrated by some hardened killer with cold, calculated precision. though, if that assumption were to be made, one would be in for quite the surprise. the only thing even alluding to a murder was the red slowly blooming outwards from the victim as she bled out in the snow. though the stark contrast against pure white was quite a dead giveaway, mind the pun, it didn't seem as though the assailant was overly concerned. instead, bright blue eyes focused intently on her work as she rifled through the pockets and bag of her victim, a small noise of delight escaping dark pink lips as she pulled a small tin of bullets from the depths of the backpack. another few minutes of searching revealed a hunting knife strapped to the outer thigh of the corpse, which bast also proceeded to remove. she'd lost her previous knife in a skirmish with some wild dogs, figured the knife was less valuable than her skin and ran.

and she kept running, away from her home that had been destroyed in the storm, away from the wild animals that she had no shelter from, and away from everything she'd ever really known. it'd been a tough few weeks, climbing the mountain range with minimal stops and a protesting cat - now perched at the edge of the bloodstains, lapping curiously at the snow, oblivious to the small noises of excitement as bast unearthed yet more loot from the rapidly cooling body. the woman had been unlucky, for sure, snuck up behind bast and tried to get the jump on her, as though she ever really stood a chance. of course bast hadn't meant for it to happen, she wasn't supposed to kill people - the other folk didn't like that, apparently - but reflexes took over as she was spooked, and the woman was soon laying in the snow with a spear sticking firmly from her throat. bast hadn't meant it, but letting all of this stuff go to waste would just be wrong, and she was a resourceful woman if nothing else.

the raven haired girl stood decisively as she pulled the last of the supplies from the depth of the pack, discarding anything useless and tucking the packs of dried rabbit meat into her own pack, before fastening the hunting knife to her belt and shoving the bullets in her pocket. with a swift movement she grabbed cleo, tucking the cat safely into her jacket before giving the area one last passing glance. waves of shoulder length hair were pulled back into a messy ponytail, bloodstained fingertips trailing over pale cheeks as bast fled into the woods, spear in hand, to resume her journey, all thoughts of the bloody scene behind her fading away into blissful oblivion.


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[i][b]TAKE MY HAND, WE'LL COMMIT TREASON
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#2
[align=center][div style="width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-family: calibri; font-size: 8pt; color: #484848; line-height: 22px;"]another body.

it always unnerved hayley, how easily it could all just be over, how easily lives could just be snuffed out of existence. one minute you're there, the next you're not. in an instant, your entire being, your entire consciousness, was wiped from existence. she wasn't a woman with much faith in anything, and truth be told, she didn't believe in an afterlife. she didn't believe that there was anything after death, only that one moment you were a living, breathing person, and the next you were... nothing. the noise, the brightness, the fire of life, put out like a candle without oxygen, smothered into nothingness. her greatest fear wasn't death, but the silence, the darkness, the emptiness that would follow an end, quick in comparison to an eternity of nothingness that, in itself, no doubt only lasted a split second. she'd been seventeen when she'd read some book, some old textbook in some old library, pages yellowed and weathered. spreading depression, it'd called it. a wave of electricity that swept over your brain as you died. it was a second, an instant, but to a dying body, it could be an eternity. death, even the quickest, could last forever in that small flash of time.

the body was one only vaguely familiar to hayley. a newer member, she'd been there only a few days, and though it made the young mother's chest tight to see her there, she also understood that she didn't know this woman, her life, her story. while it was entirely plausible that this was targeted attack, it was more likely that this foreigner had demons, enemies who sought her out. after all, the death was a simple one, no real message attached. she wasn't martyred up, she was just... dead.

❝nice job hayley,❞ she muttered under her breath, leaning over to close the woman's eyes, ❝bring hope into a world where shit like this happens.❞ an npc approached behind her, and she glanced at him, sighing. ❝get some people together, comb the area, make sure whoever did this isn't still hanging around.❞ the shed was close by, and she headed for it to retrieve a shovel, returning only minutes later to begin digging. this was far from water sources and food soil, so she figured it'd be a fine enough place for a grave.


[b][i]make your girlfriend mad tight, [color=#4A272E]might seduce your dad type
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