03-21-2017, 12:28 PM
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/this is kind of sort of a plot? mostly it's an excuse for people to do some detective-ing lmao
When Marauder woke, for once it wasn't with his heart pounding and old pains flaring, but there was an undeniable, leaden wrongness pressing down against his chest. He reached out across the bed, though he knew immediately Percy was gone; it wasn't the first time the kid had left in the middle of the night, so that alone couldn't make his skin crawl. Perc knew better than to go outside, especially at this time of day, but it wasn't the child Marauder didn't trust- other people weren't high on his list of dependability. Marauder accounted for his knives, none of which were currently strapped to him, and he chose the BW-ACK, fingers curling around the handle as he headed for the door in the dark. It was a bit difficult seeing, but he had enough visibility to make his way through well enough, and it was lighter out in the hall. As far as he could tell, no one else was awake; if they were, they'd headed somewhere else, or were keeping to their rooms. He frowned sharply, trying to figure out why the hell his gut had wanted to drag him out of bed and what was causing the stillness that fucked with the quiet by making it seem poised on the tip of a match waiting to be struck. Nonetheless, Marauder accommodated the silence automatically, breaths softened, steps lightened, and he continued on his route toward the rooms near the main door, where Perseus was mostly likely to be sleeping, but the sound of Mercutio's distressed barking spurred his steady walk into a full sprint.
He knew it would be too much to hope that the puppy had just gotten himself into a bind. Rounding the corner, knife at the ready, he first caught the small, distinctive shape of Perseus standing before sighting the much taller figure before him, clearly in the process of subduing a resistant five year old. His muscles clenched, a heavy weight he'd known to recognize as dread plummeting down into his belly, and though he was already crossing the distance, he only made it halfway when a foot planted itself in Perseus' abdomen, knocking him down into the doorway of his room. Marauder's knife was leaving his fingers without conscious thought, and while it was too dark to see, a voice cried out, tripping to the floor. Now, his hands shook, curling into fists, and the world was so painfully sharp, though if there were any sounds the roar of his heartbeat drowned them all out, and he didn't have eyes for anything but the fumbling intruder -Percy, Percy, he hurt Percy. With a snarl bordering on inhuman, he stooped, catching him by the collar of his jacket and dragging him upright as though he weighed nothing at all. Tearing open the door, he threw his captive into the snow, who began to immediately crawl away, leaving a crimson trail behind him.
Go back for Percy make sure he's okay you asshole turn around. He didn't. He couldn't. Instead he fell upon the worm dragging himself across the ground, flipping him onto his back and smashing a fist into his face, once, twice, three times and four times until his knuckles split and he couldn't distinguish his blood from the bastard wheezing underneath him. Again and again he slammed clenched hands into broken flesh, unable to see anything but the red soaking his vision, pulsing and ravenous, fed only by the splinters of pain in curled fingers and the sharp sting where his own knife bit a line across his collarbone. The fucker had managed to pull it out of his leg. His mistake. Marauder gripped his wrist with an iron pressure, and it was child's play to force it into the bastard's chest, slowly, inch by inch. He leaned forward, closer to his face; bloodied and pulpy as it was, he could still watch the life slip from the slivers of his eyes that weren't swollen shut, until there was no resistance at all against the blade. Breaths heaving in his lungs, Marauder set back on his heels, but in the next moment he had another blow struck to the body's face, and another. He was dead but Marauder wasn't done.
[spoiler=info (3/15)]GENERAL
-Marauder | Real name: Francis Maddox (never revealed) | 22 years old | Flintlock Lodge
-Pansexual | Single; is not interested in mingling | ½ Mars (famtp w/ Perseus)
PHYSICALITY
-Hair is styled in an undercut, dyed black; originally ginger | Roots are beginning to show
-Faint freckles line his cheekbones and splash across his nose; not incredibly noticeable
-Very broad-shouldered and well-built | Heavily scarred; lashes on back are most prominent
-Dark, deep blue eyes | Wears a worn leather jacket that has been mended several times
-May switch leather out for a red hoodie | Wears a red, black, and white friendship bracelet
-Strapped with a variety of knives (Karambit, BW-ACK, M-9 Bayonet[one on each leg])
-Stands at around 6'1 | Will use his height to his advantage if possible for intimidation
-Valentine's Day card from Perseus has been sewn into the inside of his leather jacket
PERSONALITY
-Will do anything for Perseus; is generally a pushover and incredibly gentle with him
-Kind of a dick ("kind of") | Has an aggressive temperament and a hair-trigger temper
-Viciously loyal to those he cares for | Typically difficult to befriend due to standoffishness
-Highly self-loathing and prone to self-sabotage | Experiences every emotion very deeply
-Dealing with possible abandonment issues | Always toeing the line between right and wrong
/this is kind of sort of a plot? mostly it's an excuse for people to do some detective-ing lmao
When Marauder woke, for once it wasn't with his heart pounding and old pains flaring, but there was an undeniable, leaden wrongness pressing down against his chest. He reached out across the bed, though he knew immediately Percy was gone; it wasn't the first time the kid had left in the middle of the night, so that alone couldn't make his skin crawl. Perc knew better than to go outside, especially at this time of day, but it wasn't the child Marauder didn't trust- other people weren't high on his list of dependability. Marauder accounted for his knives, none of which were currently strapped to him, and he chose the BW-ACK, fingers curling around the handle as he headed for the door in the dark. It was a bit difficult seeing, but he had enough visibility to make his way through well enough, and it was lighter out in the hall. As far as he could tell, no one else was awake; if they were, they'd headed somewhere else, or were keeping to their rooms. He frowned sharply, trying to figure out why the hell his gut had wanted to drag him out of bed and what was causing the stillness that fucked with the quiet by making it seem poised on the tip of a match waiting to be struck. Nonetheless, Marauder accommodated the silence automatically, breaths softened, steps lightened, and he continued on his route toward the rooms near the main door, where Perseus was mostly likely to be sleeping, but the sound of Mercutio's distressed barking spurred his steady walk into a full sprint.
He knew it would be too much to hope that the puppy had just gotten himself into a bind. Rounding the corner, knife at the ready, he first caught the small, distinctive shape of Perseus standing before sighting the much taller figure before him, clearly in the process of subduing a resistant five year old. His muscles clenched, a heavy weight he'd known to recognize as dread plummeting down into his belly, and though he was already crossing the distance, he only made it halfway when a foot planted itself in Perseus' abdomen, knocking him down into the doorway of his room. Marauder's knife was leaving his fingers without conscious thought, and while it was too dark to see, a voice cried out, tripping to the floor. Now, his hands shook, curling into fists, and the world was so painfully sharp, though if there were any sounds the roar of his heartbeat drowned them all out, and he didn't have eyes for anything but the fumbling intruder -Percy, Percy, he hurt Percy. With a snarl bordering on inhuman, he stooped, catching him by the collar of his jacket and dragging him upright as though he weighed nothing at all. Tearing open the door, he threw his captive into the snow, who began to immediately crawl away, leaving a crimson trail behind him.
Go back for Percy make sure he's okay you asshole turn around. He didn't. He couldn't. Instead he fell upon the worm dragging himself across the ground, flipping him onto his back and smashing a fist into his face, once, twice, three times and four times until his knuckles split and he couldn't distinguish his blood from the bastard wheezing underneath him. Again and again he slammed clenched hands into broken flesh, unable to see anything but the red soaking his vision, pulsing and ravenous, fed only by the splinters of pain in curled fingers and the sharp sting where his own knife bit a line across his collarbone. The fucker had managed to pull it out of his leg. His mistake. Marauder gripped his wrist with an iron pressure, and it was child's play to force it into the bastard's chest, slowly, inch by inch. He leaned forward, closer to his face; bloodied and pulpy as it was, he could still watch the life slip from the slivers of his eyes that weren't swollen shut, until there was no resistance at all against the blade. Breaths heaving in his lungs, Marauder set back on his heels, but in the next moment he had another blow struck to the body's face, and another. He was dead but Marauder wasn't done.
[spoiler=info (3/15)]GENERAL
-Marauder | Real name: Francis Maddox (never revealed) | 22 years old | Flintlock Lodge
-Pansexual | Single; is not interested in mingling | ½ Mars (famtp w/ Perseus)
PHYSICALITY
-Hair is styled in an undercut, dyed black; originally ginger | Roots are beginning to show
-Faint freckles line his cheekbones and splash across his nose; not incredibly noticeable
-Very broad-shouldered and well-built | Heavily scarred; lashes on back are most prominent
-Dark, deep blue eyes | Wears a worn leather jacket that has been mended several times
-May switch leather out for a red hoodie | Wears a red, black, and white friendship bracelet
-Strapped with a variety of knives (Karambit, BW-ACK, M-9 Bayonet[one on each leg])
-Stands at around 6'1 | Will use his height to his advantage if possible for intimidation
-Valentine's Day card from Perseus has been sewn into the inside of his leather jacket
PERSONALITY
-Will do anything for Perseus; is generally a pushover and incredibly gentle with him
-Kind of a dick ("kind of") | Has an aggressive temperament and a hair-trigger temper
-Viciously loyal to those he cares for | Typically difficult to befriend due to standoffishness
-Highly self-loathing and prone to self-sabotage | Experiences every emotion very deeply
-Dealing with possible abandonment issues | Always toeing the line between right and wrong
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IT'S
RAINING
RAINING
MEN