03-30-2021, 06:30 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 370px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 1.4; color: black;"]— TW: Talk of death/murder
When it came to mercenary work, Xavier was the best of the best - no doubt about it. He had been at the top of his game for fifteen years and had no plans of slowing down. Everyone in the Ring knew not to challenge his skill or authority - everyone except Colton Madison. That brat had been a pain in the ass; for a couple of months after his eighteenth birthday, there had been some talk that he might take Xavier's place as the Ringleader's second. And maybe that would have happened, had he succeeded in this high-profile mission - but an entire month had come and gone with no word from Colt. He had failed, and of course, Xavier had to swoop in and clean up his mess.
The tall man walked along Flintlock's border, rifle strapped to his back, hands in his pockets. He wondered if Colt had ever even made it this far; if he had to guess, he would assume that the kid had gotten lost and frozen somewhere on the mountain. There had been a massive blizzard the day after he'd left for the lodge, after all. The corners of Xavier's lips twitched into a subtle smirk; oh, what a shame Colt had to go and die. A real shame.
He lifted his head at the sound of footfall in the snow, eyes widening slightly. There seemed to be a few people approaching. He put on an innocent expression, lifting his hands in the air to show that he was not weilding a weapon. "Ah - hello? Is this Flintlock Lodge?" he would call out, his voice strained. Internally, he was analyzing each person's face, waiting for one in particular. It was time to kill Edmund Stirling.
When it came to mercenary work, Xavier was the best of the best - no doubt about it. He had been at the top of his game for fifteen years and had no plans of slowing down. Everyone in the Ring knew not to challenge his skill or authority - everyone except Colton Madison. That brat had been a pain in the ass; for a couple of months after his eighteenth birthday, there had been some talk that he might take Xavier's place as the Ringleader's second. And maybe that would have happened, had he succeeded in this high-profile mission - but an entire month had come and gone with no word from Colt. He had failed, and of course, Xavier had to swoop in and clean up his mess.
The tall man walked along Flintlock's border, rifle strapped to his back, hands in his pockets. He wondered if Colt had ever even made it this far; if he had to guess, he would assume that the kid had gotten lost and frozen somewhere on the mountain. There had been a massive blizzard the day after he'd left for the lodge, after all. The corners of Xavier's lips twitched into a subtle smirk; oh, what a shame Colt had to go and die. A real shame.
He lifted his head at the sound of footfall in the snow, eyes widening slightly. There seemed to be a few people approaching. He put on an innocent expression, lifting his hands in the air to show that he was not weilding a weapon. "Ah - hello? Is this Flintlock Lodge?" he would call out, his voice strained. Internally, he was analyzing each person's face, waiting for one in particular. It was time to kill Edmund Stirling.
━━━━━━━ SHOW ME, HOW YOU JUSTIFY
TELLING ALL YOUR LIES LIKE SECOND NATURE :・ﾟ✧*:・ﾟ✧