Post by Deacon Graves on Jan 7, 2018 21:55:29 GMT -8
"Huh- Huh-" Ragged breaths sounded out as a younger Deacon Graves hurriedly rushed through thick foliage, rough branches and jagged edge wood scraping thin line of red as he barreled through a forest. "Huh- Huh- Huh-" Heavy rain battered him, his matted hair sticking to his forehead and threatening to block out his already blurred vision. His feet pattered across damp vegetation, branches cracking as he dashed carelessly.
Moon light cast between breaks in the canopy revealed a brown hoodie with a deep colored stain across his left side, his left arm dangling oddly at his side with each foot fall. Everything had happened so quick, the young teenager's brain had barely had a chance to process the event as it unfolded. Now as he ran, full of both fear and worry, Deacon replayed it all in his head.
Deacon, along with his older brother, Jericho had been on an important run. Their father had fallen Ill and they had spent more than a week scrounging for valuables that they could trade for medicine. After a lot of hard work and time spent, they had managed to get the odds and ends requested. It had taken them roughly an hour and a half to reach the make-shift trade shop and everything had gone according to plan, that was until they started to back-track and head home.
Somewhere along the way, Deacon and his brother had picked up a tail. When they had reached the out-skirts of the small ramshackle colony, they had got ambushed. The young boy froze up, forgetting nearly everything his father and brother had taught him in preparation for a situation like this. Before he knew it he had been hit with something hard, a metal pipe or a base-ball bat, upon his left arm. He tried to fight back, but the initial surprise attack had left him crippled with pain and fear. Amidst the struggle, he had felt the sharp bite of a blade at his side.
His brother screamed, yelling for him to stick to the plan and run back home. He barely hesitated as soon as he had managed to find a gap and free himself. He was carrying the medicine they had traded for, in his bag and Deacon was tasked with ensuring it reached their father if anything went awry. The entire time he was running he was cursing himself for not being prepared. He couldn't help thinking about his brother, whether or not he managed to make it away alive. It was all he had thought about as he ran like the wind.
"Huh- Huuuh- Huh-" Still the young boy pushed himself, his heart beating out of his chest as his lungs gasped for air. He couldn't possibly tell how long he had been running, but he was starting to feel slightly dizzy. Just when he was getting ready to give up, a familiar glow would catch his sight within the tree-line. The soft orangish-yellow light of a lantern lit would guide the boy toward the small cabin the three of them had built in the woods.
Deacon would force himself to keep going until his hands hit the wooden door and he thudded into it, groaning as he leaned against it and scrambled to find the key in his pocket. He would unlock it, pushing it open wide before he stumbled in gasping for air and applying pressure to the wound at his side. Jericho wasn't anywhere to be found, only his father that lay feverish in his bed, in and out of consciousness with groans.
"D-Dad! Jericho and I- We were jumped.. He stayed to.. fight them off." Holden Graves was in no position to respond to his youngest son and Deacon had already known that. He supposed it was more of a comfort to himself to speak anyways. Even though he was in pain, bleeding from the gash on his side, Deacon was more concerned about the well-being of his dad than he was himself. He shambled over to him, pulling off his back-pack and place it on the ground. He would unzip it and reach in, a lot of complete and utter shock cross his face when he felt a dampness inside.
"N-N-NO! IT BROKE!" Whether it had been from the initial scuffle or the trek home, somewhere during the glass container holding it had shattered, leaking it's contents on the inside of Deacon's back-pack. Immediately the young boy broke down, knowing full well what it would ultimately mean. Deacon had been through a lot, experience death at a young age, but this was too much.
Everything seemed to go blank. He remembered dropping to his knees, tear-filled eyes staring toward his suffering father on the bed. He fell completely silent, the only thing making sound was the tuning radio Jericho had left on for his father.
"For those tuning in for good news, the entire city of Los Angeles has been purged of the group known as "Raiders" by a group called the "Dragon Core" lead by the notorious Leon Sudeki, the Lightning Dragon himself.."
Deacon found himself curling up with his back against the bed frame, crying as he hugged his back-pack and closed his eyes, ears listening to the words that came over the air-waves.
"...Eye witness accounts place the total and complete destruction of the Raiders group simply use the word animalistic."
These reports, this wasn't the first time he heard them. Normally they made him happy to hear, hopeful. Excited to be living and cheering on the heroes who fought hard. Men like this Leon Sudeki guy. Right now, it was just noise filling his brain while he wept. But it was a moment in time that would stick with Deacon forever.
--------Present--------
Deacon snapped awake, sweat dripping from his brow and covering his unclothed torso. He would adjust himself in bed, sitting up as he bent his knees and brought his elbows to rest upon them. It had been a while since he had one of those dreams. Deacon had them often when he was younger, but they had faded the older he got. Now, here he was again, repeating old patterns.
..He triggered it. Leon Sudeki. Hmph.. Deacon's head would shift, those icy blue iris' directing themselves toward a battered and beaten tuning radio that sat near-by on his end table. What a coincidence.. Spend years of your youth idolizing a man and end up serving under him.. Deacon would shift back down again and rest his head on his pillow, eyes closing again after he folded his arms up under his head. Thanks for those dead memories back.. Leon Sudeki.
Word Count: 1,111 words
Name: Your Event
Requirements: Approved Character
Job: An event has happened to your character alone. What happened? Write a story about some big event that just happened to your character. This event can be done once a month.
Bonus: Receive an injury that lasts 3 threads.
Payout: +3 exp, +$250
Moon light cast between breaks in the canopy revealed a brown hoodie with a deep colored stain across his left side, his left arm dangling oddly at his side with each foot fall. Everything had happened so quick, the young teenager's brain had barely had a chance to process the event as it unfolded. Now as he ran, full of both fear and worry, Deacon replayed it all in his head.
Deacon, along with his older brother, Jericho had been on an important run. Their father had fallen Ill and they had spent more than a week scrounging for valuables that they could trade for medicine. After a lot of hard work and time spent, they had managed to get the odds and ends requested. It had taken them roughly an hour and a half to reach the make-shift trade shop and everything had gone according to plan, that was until they started to back-track and head home.
Somewhere along the way, Deacon and his brother had picked up a tail. When they had reached the out-skirts of the small ramshackle colony, they had got ambushed. The young boy froze up, forgetting nearly everything his father and brother had taught him in preparation for a situation like this. Before he knew it he had been hit with something hard, a metal pipe or a base-ball bat, upon his left arm. He tried to fight back, but the initial surprise attack had left him crippled with pain and fear. Amidst the struggle, he had felt the sharp bite of a blade at his side.
His brother screamed, yelling for him to stick to the plan and run back home. He barely hesitated as soon as he had managed to find a gap and free himself. He was carrying the medicine they had traded for, in his bag and Deacon was tasked with ensuring it reached their father if anything went awry. The entire time he was running he was cursing himself for not being prepared. He couldn't help thinking about his brother, whether or not he managed to make it away alive. It was all he had thought about as he ran like the wind.
"Huh- Huuuh- Huh-" Still the young boy pushed himself, his heart beating out of his chest as his lungs gasped for air. He couldn't possibly tell how long he had been running, but he was starting to feel slightly dizzy. Just when he was getting ready to give up, a familiar glow would catch his sight within the tree-line. The soft orangish-yellow light of a lantern lit would guide the boy toward the small cabin the three of them had built in the woods.
Deacon would force himself to keep going until his hands hit the wooden door and he thudded into it, groaning as he leaned against it and scrambled to find the key in his pocket. He would unlock it, pushing it open wide before he stumbled in gasping for air and applying pressure to the wound at his side. Jericho wasn't anywhere to be found, only his father that lay feverish in his bed, in and out of consciousness with groans.
"D-Dad! Jericho and I- We were jumped.. He stayed to.. fight them off." Holden Graves was in no position to respond to his youngest son and Deacon had already known that. He supposed it was more of a comfort to himself to speak anyways. Even though he was in pain, bleeding from the gash on his side, Deacon was more concerned about the well-being of his dad than he was himself. He shambled over to him, pulling off his back-pack and place it on the ground. He would unzip it and reach in, a lot of complete and utter shock cross his face when he felt a dampness inside.
"N-N-NO! IT BROKE!" Whether it had been from the initial scuffle or the trek home, somewhere during the glass container holding it had shattered, leaking it's contents on the inside of Deacon's back-pack. Immediately the young boy broke down, knowing full well what it would ultimately mean. Deacon had been through a lot, experience death at a young age, but this was too much.
Everything seemed to go blank. He remembered dropping to his knees, tear-filled eyes staring toward his suffering father on the bed. He fell completely silent, the only thing making sound was the tuning radio Jericho had left on for his father.
"For those tuning in for good news, the entire city of Los Angeles has been purged of the group known as "Raiders" by a group called the "Dragon Core" lead by the notorious Leon Sudeki, the Lightning Dragon himself.."
Deacon found himself curling up with his back against the bed frame, crying as he hugged his back-pack and closed his eyes, ears listening to the words that came over the air-waves.
"...Eye witness accounts place the total and complete destruction of the Raiders group simply use the word animalistic."
These reports, this wasn't the first time he heard them. Normally they made him happy to hear, hopeful. Excited to be living and cheering on the heroes who fought hard. Men like this Leon Sudeki guy. Right now, it was just noise filling his brain while he wept. But it was a moment in time that would stick with Deacon forever.
--------Present--------
Deacon snapped awake, sweat dripping from his brow and covering his unclothed torso. He would adjust himself in bed, sitting up as he bent his knees and brought his elbows to rest upon them. It had been a while since he had one of those dreams. Deacon had them often when he was younger, but they had faded the older he got. Now, here he was again, repeating old patterns.
..He triggered it. Leon Sudeki. Hmph.. Deacon's head would shift, those icy blue iris' directing themselves toward a battered and beaten tuning radio that sat near-by on his end table. What a coincidence.. Spend years of your youth idolizing a man and end up serving under him.. Deacon would shift back down again and rest his head on his pillow, eyes closing again after he folded his arms up under his head. Thanks for those dead memories back.. Leon Sudeki.
Word Count: 1,111 words
Name: Your Event
Requirements: Approved Character
Job: An event has happened to your character alone. What happened? Write a story about some big event that just happened to your character. This event can be done once a month.
Bonus: Receive an injury that lasts 3 threads.
Payout: +3 exp, +$250
