「 this night ain't for the faint of heart 」 — double arrival .
#1
[align=center][div style="width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 7pt; line-height: 1.5;"]・゚✧ — Ellie's heart pained woefully, a rise of nausea reaching the back of her throat as adrenaline chewed at her anxiously. There she was, trekking through a sub-zero nightmare with her ex-fiance in tow. He was going to die if he didn't receive medical treatment, Ellie - who was definitely not the doctor in this abnormal relationship - was bound to believe. However, with a festering gunshot wound in his shoulder, septicemia ought to enter the bloodstream in a matter of hours or so and, with Mick very quickly going downhill, he needed to stop being so stubborn and instead allow somebody to help him for once.

It was certainly unsuitable to hike up to the summit of a glacial mountain wearing nothing more than a maxi dress and Doc Martens, though at least Ellie had adrenaline to keep her warm for the time being. After all, Mickey's fate was in her hands and the very last thing she could dream of was to lose her Mick too. "Please, trust me on this one... Somebody must be around to help." She insisted as she looked over her shoulder at the struggling man whom she adored, her gaze aching with concern.  "And... And if nobody is there, maybe there are supplies somewhere... Yes, somewhere up there! Please, please trust me on this."

She turned her head, body shuddering as a bitter breeze whispered against her chillingly, so that she could see where the pair were headed to: at the top of this mountain situated a village of ski lodges, something which could possibly save Mick's life had to be up here somewhere. But, doubt began to play at her mind - what if Mick was right? What if this was all for nothing? Shriveling her face up, she concluded after moments of hesitation that there was only one way to find out...

"Hello? Anyone? Please, we need help! We have an injured man, please help!" Ellie cupped her hands around her lips as she called out, the pair of them steadily approaching the small village of Flintlock Lodge. She grimaced, slowing to a halt as she peered around for any sign of movement. "Help!"

[please wait for [member=9508]mickey[/member] to reply]


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I'M BURNING BRIDGES, I DESTROY THE MIRAGE
[div style="width: 400px; font-family: georgia; text-align: center; font-size: 5pt; line-height: 1; letter-spacing: 2.6px; word-spacing: 1.9px; margin-bottom: 5px;"]ALL VISIONS OF COLLISIONS, FUCKING BON VOYAGE — truce.#1303

WRITING &. PINTEREST &. SPOTIFY
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#2
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— mickey knew that leaving the gang wouldn’t be easy. however, he’d known that it would be safer for ellie if they left. after carter almost stealing her away… and winnie, their precious dog, getting killed… he didn’t want to stick around to see what awaited for ellie. because, while they might not be dating anymore, while they were no longer going to be married and spend the rest of their lives happily together, he still cared deeply for the blonde. he loved her, still. and anything would be worth her safety, even if it meant leaving a gang that could protect them, but also harm them.

but, being a previous gang leader on the run still caught up to him.
especially when it seemed like other gangs hadn’t gotten the memo that he wasn’t the big boss anymore.

“there’s no use, ellie,” he softly argued, trying to sound as confident and brave as he usually was. “besides, it’s not a big deal. i just want to rest.” though, with his extensive medical experience, he knew he needed a lot more than rest. he needed to make sure the bullet wound had passed through his shoulder; he needed materials to possibly make a sort of immobilizer for his aching shoulder. the last thing he wanted was for ellie to worry, yet realistically, he felt like he was sitting at about a fifty-fifty chance of survival. the last thing he expected was to possibly see medical supplies, let alone thriving people,  in these parts.

so, in a way, “rest” and “giving up” seemed synonymous.

how did it ever get to be this way? he watched ellie as she wandered ahead, so brave and determined… and there mick was, sauntering behind her, feeling weak and utterly vulnerable in that moment. she was better off ever since they’d broken up. and, just like in this situation, while ellie was thriving and full of so much life, mickey was getting worse and worse-- to the point where the thought of dying was almost better than the idea of surviving.

catching up to elinor, he waited a few moments of quiet before breathing a deep sigh. "we shouldn't wait any longer, el. let’s find somewhere to rest. i… have things i want to tell you.” because if dying was a possible card, he wasn’t going to leave all these secrets between the two of them. not while he had the chance.

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#3
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☁  tracking until the morning, but welcome y'all!!




[b][i]make your girlfriend mad tight, [color=#4A272E]might seduce your dad type
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#4
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☁  hayley, of course, heard elinor's cry for help, and the little note about an injured man. the woman had been walking at a comfortable pace before, but at the shout immediately sped up, the small dots of people in the distance growing into those of actual people. she panted with each step, lungs expanding as she intook air, slowing as she got near.

❝crap,❞ she said as she caught her breath, glancing from brendon to the injured man to the young woman with panicked hazel eyes. ❝we've, uh, we've got a bunch of shit to treat that up at the lodge.❞ she said to the blonde, before glancing to the man. ❝it's not very far, just over the hill, do you think you'll be able to make it?❞ she asked, visibly concerned. why was it that everyone who showed up on the mountain as of late had someone bleeding in their party? it was exhausting, nerve wracking, and the brunette was starting to expect gray hairs to start sprouting among the hazelnut tresses.

❝i'm hayley,❞ she'd add, hoping to hear names from them in return, ❝you guy's will be alright, don't worry.❞




[b][i]make your girlfriend mad tight, [color=#4A272E]might seduce your dad type
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#5
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— mickey had given up. he had turned to begin his trek to a place where he could lay down, to a place where he could tell ellie everything that needed to be said. there had been this rift between them, and he figured if he was going to die, he might as well do everything he could to close the rift. it wasn’t until a boy’s voice came that he turned to see the stranger, who was shortly joined by yet another person.

“it’s fine. bullet wound,” he stated as the other man rather nervously questioned his injury. with medical treatment, he was sure that the wound would be okay. and, by the sounds of it, he was going to be just fine. he wanted to say that sweet relief flooded his system when they were informed that there were supplies to treat the injury-- but all he could feel was a small pit settle in his stomach.

he’d done terrible things to people; those who had been in this same situation because of him usually never pulled through. what had he done to deserve to live? nodding his head, absolutely sure he could make it up the hill, he began to follow the two towards where the supplies might be. it didn’t take more than a few dreadful steps to realize he needed the slightest bit of assistance. exerting so much effort was making his head spin, making dots form in his vision. blood loss. draping his uninjured arm over ellie, he grimaced slightly as he leaned against her.

while everything in him wanted to trust these two, there were bits and pieces of him that worried he and ellie might not be as safe as it seemed. even with this unease, though, he tried to convince himself that it was for her, for ellie- and that always made it worth it. if this place meant she was safe, mickey would be more than glad to give it a chance.

“mickey,” he introduced as they followed, eyes surveying the area. “i could treat this wound, myself, if you have the supplies.”

//sorry for the crummy posts. joining threads aren't my best haa
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#6
[align=center][div style="width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 7pt; line-height: 1.5;"]・゚✧ — Elinor grimaced, slowing to a halt as she hesitantly raised her hand to rest on Mick's upper back. In a way, she thought that perhaps this was an act of comfort, to let Mick know that he would be all right soon and that help was coming for him but, the longer she thought about it, the more Ellie realized that her desire to stay close to Mick was more of an instinct. She needed the reassurance that everything was going to be all right, despite her being seemingly in control of the situation for once.

It wasn't often that she'd take control - after all, she was very much a sheep, finding comfort and solace in relying on Mick. Her green gaze flitted over to a slim boy who approached the pair and, pressing her lips together to form a thin line whilst knitting her brows together, Ellie peered over to Mick, almost as if to anxiously urge him to reply to the boy rather than her. As her past lover spoke, Ellie's eyes then landed on a woman who now approached and, as they received nothing but assistance and kind words, Ellie's racing heart began to settle with relief.

"I'm Ellie... I'm so, so sorry for burdening you all with this - he'll manage to make it up there, I think." With worried eyes, Ellie shot one last glance at Mick before urging him to walk onward, closer to the two strangers. "Thank you so much... I don't know what I could've done without any help."


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I'M BURNING BRIDGES, I DESTROY THE MIRAGE
[div style="width: 400px; font-family: georgia; text-align: center; font-size: 5pt; line-height: 1; letter-spacing: 2.6px; word-spacing: 1.9px; margin-bottom: 5px;"]ALL VISIONS OF COLLISIONS, FUCKING BON VOYAGE — truce.#1303

WRITING &. PINTEREST &. SPOTIFY
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#7
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GRAYSON HANSON
Sixteen & Trans Male & Residing in Flintlock Lodge
❝and ever since seventh grade i learned to fire-breathe❞
//tw for talking about death and gunviolence

He pulled the trigger nearly every day, more often than not ending the life of something right along with it. But that was in hunting animals for food; it was a necessity, he and many others would struggle to survive (at best) without the meat he brought in. He could hardly fathom turning his gun on another human, largely because the sound of someone shooting his mother, of her body hitting the floor, of coming out of hiding and seeing her body minutes later, still haunted him.

Shooting animals he could deal with. Even most injuries in humans, he could deal with. Not the case with humans, if it wasn't self defense, he couldn't imagine it, couldn't handle it (the exception, if there was one, was for the people that had killed his mother).

So when he responded to the call and saw the state that Mickey was in, his lips thinned. "Fuck." The teenager stood back, hands stuffed into his pockets, his mind blanking on what to do - a rare occurrence with Gray.

//this is bad but welcome to the Lodge!

[spoiler=MY CHILDHOOD SPAT BACK OUT THE MONSTER THAT YOU SEE | 12/08]General — biograhpy
▪ Grayson Hanson | Gray | Formerly Aria Rivendare
▪ Masculine presenting | Identifies as male | He/Him | DFAB
[size=7pt]— Almost impossible to tell his birth gender (get Pyre's permission before having y/c know)

▪ 16 years, 10 months | 2/6/22 | Ages primarily real time
▪ Member of the Moorland Riders | Residing in Flintlock Lodge | Ex-Ranger of the Flintlock Lodge

Physical — reference
♦ HUMAN | Health: 100%
— Gray is about medium height at 5'6", and very thin and lanky. He has gray eyes, and off-black hair cropped into an undercut, which has recently been cut a bit closer to the scalp than normal. Under his left eye he has a beauty mark, and there are a few scars on his medium-brown skin, and there are more under the slate gray bandanna, hoodies and jeans the gangly teen tends to wear. There are three pierces in his right ear, two in his lobe and one in the cartilage.
— minor injuries: n/a
— major injuries: n/a

Important Info — roleplayer
▪ In no way shows that he was born female, does everything possible to hide it (such as binding) and wears clothes meant for men. Without him stripping, it's pretty much impossible to tell that he isn't biologically male.
▪ Low-key history nut.
▪ Nearsighted.
▪ Has a blue pit bull puppy named Brianna.
▪ Opinions and motivations are Gray's and Gray's alone and are not shared by his roleplayer.

Personality — personality type
— DETAILED IS STILL A BIG WIP
— Articulate; contemplative; efficient; driven; incisive; intelligent; meticulous; orderly; perceptive; practical; rational; self-sufficient; shrewd; vigilant; witty, enigmatic; frank; neutral; placid; private; stoic, abrupt; aloof; assertive; blunt; calculating; coarse; critical; cynical; distrusting; judgmental; opinionated; pedantic; sarcastic; self-serving; unreliable; vindictive

Relationships — heartchart
▪ Val x Summer Rivendare | Adopted by Diana Hanson
▪ Pansexual | Panromantic | Monogamous
▪ Single | One crush
▪ ½ Graux | ½ Torrson
▪ Generally puts on a friendly front and cares for those around him, but still holds them at arms' length and is very hard to get close to. Very awkward when flirted with and doesn't really like it, but becomes quite flirty when drunk

Interaction — plotting thread
— Medium Physically | Hard mentally
— Still in training
— Prefers to fight with a machete, but can go hand-to-hand
— No kill/capture/maim without permission
— To attack, [member=2027]Gray[/member] and attack in underlined #708090
[/spoiler][/size]


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————IF YOU NEED ME, I'LL BE GONE———— ——
i'm looking for a good time on my own, i'm all alone ——
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