Sly Cooper
A hermit crab
"I don't want to go to hell for all the times I said SCUBA!"
Posts: 858
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Post by Sly Cooper on Aug 24, 2010 0:13:52 GMT -5
Damon, being used to strick, paralizing pain, kept himself quiet. He wouldn't say a single word. He'd rather be beaten to death than snitch on the society that had treated him so well. He tightened his fists, almost ready to break skin with his nails. His jaw was clentched, his teeth grinding.
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Post by esau12 on Aug 24, 2010 0:16:26 GMT -5
Esau, suddenly coming out of his comatose like daze, realized he had a baby in his arms. He looked down at the child, "aww, who's a cutie? Who's a cutie? Yesh, you are, you are!" And he ran. He ran far away. To the police office, in fact. He left the baby on the door step of it and rang the bell. He would tell that Rebekah and Damon that he had left him in an unspecified area of wheat. When they go to find him, he will no longer be there.
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Post by The Bad Man on Aug 24, 2010 0:29:37 GMT -5
Richard grabbed the boy by his legs, dragging him bodily towards the house. He paused to carry him up the steps, holding his limp form with both arms, and watching all the while for sudden movements. He carried the surprisingly heavy young man to the stairs, panting and sweating with the effort. Richard finally dropped him, unable to hold him any longer. He could hear sobbing from the kitchen. Richard, still trying to catch his breath, felt sorry for Joe. He'd have to do something for the Tamorins.
"Joe, come in here. I found someone outside."
There was no response. Richard would have to take care of the boy by himself. With sigh, Richard stomped his way back to the hall closet. Inside, he found several loose bungee cords, perfect for temporary restraints.
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Sly Cooper
A hermit crab
"I don't want to go to hell for all the times I said SCUBA!"
Posts: 858
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Post by Sly Cooper on Aug 24, 2010 0:36:47 GMT -5
The entire time Richard dragged Damon along, Damon kept his eyes on him. Sure it hurt, but pain is what lets you know you're alive.
What does he expect from me? He hasn't actually asked anything yet. I'm sure he wants me to spill my guts about murduring that woman, but I didn't do it. I'm not spilling unless he cuts my up and lets my organs fall out.
Damon's case in point had been proven again. For the longest time he thought maybe the Outlanders, although sinfull, wern't cruel, just lazy. But Damon's heart ached to see that maybe the world really is big and bad. He just watched, what else is there to do at this time?
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Post by The Bad Man on Aug 24, 2010 0:57:17 GMT -5
When he was sure that the bonds were tight, Richard propped the boy up in a dining room chair. He left the Gatlin boy alone, trusting in the strength of cords to hold him. He padded up the stairs, ignoring the smears of blood that seemed to cover every surface. Joe, it appeared, had become hysterical when he discovered that his baby daughter had been stolen. When Richard reached his door, he noticed that someone had been trying to open it, probably Joe. They hadn't bust through, but it wasn't for a lack of trying. The hinges were bent and the frame had splintered. Joe had obviously given it quite a thumping. Richard approached the door with a almost characteristic caution. As if performing some insipid ritual, he knocked once, then again, twisting the doorknob with each rap of his knuckles. He paused for a moment before knocking a third time. There was a muffled crash from behind the door, followed by a prolonged clicking. Richard then dug a ring of keys out of his jacket, selecting the one marked with the letter T.
--------
The door swung open without a sound. Cool air rushed foward to greet Richard's face. He smiled slightly, and stepped into darkness.
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Sly Cooper
A hermit crab
"I don't want to go to hell for all the times I said SCUBA!"
Posts: 858
|
Post by Sly Cooper on Aug 24, 2010 1:07:37 GMT -5
Damon didn't even bother to wiggle himself out of the restraints. He sat, listening to the hysterical cries, and the various foot steps around the house. He wasn't being smug, by any stretch of the imagination, in fact quite the opposite, feeling relitively selfsidtructive.
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Post by Bunny on Aug 24, 2010 1:25:22 GMT -5
Rebekah ran.
She did not sprint, for she rushed with endurance.
She did not flee, for her mind, filled with nothing but a mere determination to keep going forward, had forgotten the danger looming behind.
She ran.
Her dress, still coated with blood and dirt, collected more. Upturned sticks scraped against her legs, leaving jagged scratches in their wake. And still she ran. She thrust herself forward, her path only lit by the pale slither of moonlight the clouds afforded her, and frankly, even if she had not even that she would have ran blindly.
Eventually, her thoughts grew somewhat coherent. Fear was still pulsating through her, but she calmed herself through the common mantra: Night was His time. The Lord's presence was most felt at night. It was the night of the nineteenth birthday that the Lord came to take his followers to him, and it was during the night that he spoke to Isaac through dreams. And it would be during the night that she counted on him to protect her.
And Damon.
Eventually, enough distance was covered between her and the--the outlander. She was plainly in the open, but she did not even think of that. Even if she had been operating at her full cognitive capacity, Rebekah likely wouldn't have thought of it. She collapsed onto the ground, and held her shoulder, and schemed. She needed to find Noah. She needed to find Noah, and save her husband.
OOC: >.>
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