M - Rotten Fun

Jetta

POSTED: Tue Feb 12, 2019 8:26 pm

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count → 393 :: Near the land bridge that connects the peninsula and main land, but still on the peninsula side. Didn't want to do too much action before giving you a chance to state where you char is at or whatnot. Could even be right beside Moon if that fits for you. Marked Mature just in case any fighting dictates the need!

Consciousness returned to her in the form of a screaming headache. For a moment the pale woman thought that her head must be split open and that the throbbing sensation was her brains leaking out all over the snow, but as more and more of her wits returned to her and her aqua eyes slowly opened and adjusted to the blinding light of the day, she realized that she was okay… mostly. Depending on your definition of okay.

The overwhelming urge to moan her displeasure warred with the instinct to stay quiet in hopes to assess the dangers around her. There were others nearby, that was for sure, she could hear at least two or three distinct voices… and her feet… she couldn’t move them, they were lashed together at the ankles. In fact she was sprawled out on her back, her arms trailing overhead. Her captors had been dragging her along like this for some untold length – thankfully the grown was laden with snow or else her fur and skin would surely have sloughed off by now. Instead, short of her head, she was relatively alright.

They didn’t know she was awake yet and that was probably for the best, so Moon managed to gather enough wit to keep from tipping them off, for now. She squinted and looked around slowly so they would not notice the brightness of her now-awake blue eyes. Sky above her, snow on all sides, a length of rope connected to her ankles by which she was being dragged.

If she could look around a bit more she might be able to glean that her assailants were trekking toward the land bridge that connected the peninsula with the mainland, trying to make a quick and rapid departure from this area with their plunder.

The sounds of dragging stopped, and with it, all momentum. The rope was dropped into the snow and the gruff voices of the men squabbled over whether or not to set down and eat here, or to move on and eat wherever they camped for the night. One man in particular griped and groaned about wanting his lunch, and it was clear by the tone of voice and the sounds of grumbling bellies that, though the others put up a fight, they would soon give in to their comrade and bring out the food.

If I am an angel, paint me with black wings.

Template by Kitty, artwork by Thimele.

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Mistfell Vale
Whalstray (NPC)
User avatar
☠ Nukiira ☠
Luperci 2011, 2012, 2018 SoSuWriMo Champ! Thalia and Melpomene Kiss Me
off the deep end

POSTED: Wed Feb 13, 2019 7:16 pm

For Jetta, consciousness came back not in a whisper, but in a bang of light, sound, adrenaline, awareness—all things that bristled the hair along her spine, clammed her palms, and made her mouth go dry. Her entire body ached, and her tongue tasted like copper. After some experimental wiggling, she discovered her ankles were bound, her entire body drawn taunt by the pressure she felt there. Her arms stretched overhead, wrists also bound, and every so often she bumped softly into the side of something fleshy. Her heat beat frantically in her chest and she steeled herself to regain calm.

After a few seconds more, her vision focused despite the throbbing in her head. Well, that was a relief. She wasn’t blind. She blinked her eyes a few more times, coming to the realisation that she was staring at a gunmetal sky, with very soft snowfall.. It was too bright and so she screwed them shut again. Jetta struggled to remember where she had been last, and what she had been doing—making camp? Sleeping? One of the two. And then—what, a surprising rush of violence, an ambush? It had been too fast, and then nothing.

No one to watch your back, whispered a mean voice, inside her head.

She decidedly ignored it, flinching at the abrupt stop. The rope binding her ankles hit the ground with a heavy thud. It was then, for the first time, she felt genuine panic. Is it Stark? Has he come back? From where, the dead? That thought was more disconcerting than she would like to acknowledge. But she could not shake the feeling—the last time she had been in this situation, it had been with Stark, when he had taken her from Santa Fe.

But, no. She could hear voices, complaining of hunger, and knew that none of them were Stark. And she reminded herself, again and again, it would be impossible regardless. They were arguing, about something, and the distraction allowed Jetta to take better note of her surroundings… and the body being dragged alongside her.

The ridgeback did not recognise the other woman from her peripheral, but that was to be expected. She didn’t know anyone in this foreign land. She was making assumptions, jumping to conclusions—slave traders?—it didn’t matter. Taking advantage of the muffled argument, she wriggled closer to the other captive, close enough to brush ankles. She allowed her head to flop sideways, as though still unconscious and merely being affected by the lack of momentum. ”I say let’s wait for them to stop to eat before making a move.” Jetta whispered, as quietly as possible. She was uncertain if she could trust the other woman, but their captors far outnumbered them, and Jetta was uninterested in facing those odds alone. ”They seem arrogant and inexperienced—lets see if they get fat and happy tonight, complacent.”

Then, their argument ended. They were to keep moving, until the afternoon began to wane or hunger won out.

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POSTED: Wed Feb 13, 2019 9:52 pm

Word Count → 600+ :: A little disclaimer here... though I write that the guy grabs for them it's not intended to be power play, and if you want Jetta to evade it somehow that's fine. Feel free to play any of the NPCs! This color text is NPC speech.

One of Moon’s sidelong glances proffered the image of another woman in the same predicament at herself. To simply glance at the woman might lead one to believe she was not a Luperci, but a straw effigy prepped to be burned in honor of the gods… but the brigands would have no need to bind the hands and feet or dress such an idol. The woman was, for a time, still unconscious, and Moon Moon was trying to keep a sliver of sanity about her, so she disregarded the still femme for now.

Until, that was, something brushed up against her ankle. The Damaichu woman stiffened and was about to screech something about desert vipers when the whispering reached her ear. Startled, bright blue eyes mimicked her namesake as she jerked her head to peer at the now-animated woman who had scooted over to talk to her, and Moon visibly relaxed when she realized it wasn’t one of her captors come to assault her, nor was it an out-of-place desert viper. Luckily the sudden jolt went unnoticed by their captors.

Who’re you? Moon asked, a question that seemed quite trivial at the moment. But Moon’s wounded mind didn’t work like other people’s, and where her first thought should have been to recognize the Ridgeback as a ‘friend through common enemy,’ she actually wasted a few beats wondering why the woman was talking to her at all.

Fate would be kind to them both today, though, because the threat and instinct to survive would serve to snap Moon Moon’s wits back into place much faster than on any other given day. The woman blinked rapidly and if one looked close enough, they could all but see the understanding return to her. Ya, she agreed in a whisper. She tested her arms and found that, while they were bound, they were not obligated to be up over her head, rather they fell that way while she was being dragged. She moved them to rest on her stomach. An’ that ain’t gonna be long. I had’da horse with me… d’ya… d’ya see ‘em anywhere? Moon’s freckled nose twitched as she tried to scent her horse, or any horse, but it was difficult to tell over the aroma of meat that began to permeate the air as the men started to prep their lunch. If my mare’s around she could carry us away… dark chestnut with a snow white mane. Her name's Kebira. An' I'm Moon Moon.

She patted at her thighs best she could with her bound hands. The pale woman was clad in her usual charcoal hooded shirt and black shorts, with layers of fabric and leather strapping around her arms and legs as padding. This was good scouts’ gear… but, Ah, Bite Me! it sounded like a curse, but also a name. They got my daggers an’ all my other weapons, too. That was mostly a given; it was the first rule of abducting somebody, actually.

’Ey Murdoch, one of the body thieves grumbled. I think I ‘ear sumthin’. Ya s’pose tha merchandise is awake? Moon didn’t much care for the way he said ‘merchandise.’ The goon’s words didn’t seem to impress their leader, though, and he barked, I don’t know and I don’t care! Go see for yourself! And Dougal, there best be no trouble!

Grumbling to himself, the one called Dougal lumbered over to check on the women. A dirty, scraggly mutt of a thing, he leered over the pair. Yep, they’s awake boss. How’s about ya ladies come join us fer dinner, eh? the man bent over them and, with hands that certainly weren’t modest, he grabbed them by their shirts or collars or wherever he could get purchase, and made to hoist them up and drag them to the small ring camp.

If I am an angel, paint me with black wings.

Template by Kitty, artwork by Thimele.

Mistfell Vale
Whalstray (NPC)
User avatar
☠ Nukiira ☠
Luperci 2011, 2012, 2018 SoSuWriMo Champ! Thalia and Melpomene Kiss Me
off the deep end

POSTED: Mon Feb 18, 2019 9:55 pm

WE HAD BEEN ON OUR KNEES,
WE’VE DRUNK THE STRONGEST WHISKEYS
WE’VE LIVED MUCH MORE THAN WE EXPECTED TO LIVE?

Who’re you? Of all the questions to ask? Jetta supposed she had wondered the same thing about the other woman, but she had the sense to keep it to herself. Luckily, the bewilderment didn’t last long, and Jetta’s knew “ally” responded positively to the idea of teaming up. ”I haven’t seen anything besides you,” Jetta said—and then remembered. She had a horse too. Apparently one she wasn’t very attached to. For a moment she felt guilty for having forgotten the roan gelding, who had been virtually her only companion in Souls. ”I also have a horse—bay roan.” Jetta was again taken aback by Moon Moon’s priorities, but she supposed she appreciated the introduction. ”I’m Jetta.” Andddd the horse doesn’t have a name. Jetta made a silent vow that if she were to escape with her life, and her horse’s life, she would certainly take the time to name him and treat him a little better.

Jetta was concerned that their talking would draw attention; and then it did. If she were being honest, it had taken them longer than she had expected to catch on. She listened closely to their voices, trying to gauge distance and size.

She did not have to wait long. Dougal hauled her to her feet, and with all the cunningness of a fox, Jetta fell into a role she had played before. She flinched and cringed at his touch, twisting her face into an expression of exaggerated fear. ”H-h-h-hey…” she said meekly at the rough—and frankly violating—touch of the man. Jetta managed to get a full glimpse of Moon Moon for the first time and at least the woman appeared able-bodied. It also reassured Jetta that, moments before, the other woman had mentioned having weapons. That implied some level of competency, Jetta hoped.

They were manhandled to the fire and pushed to the outer ring of camp, positioning them between two mutts that were equally disheveled and leery. Jetta kept up the ruse, swallowing and scooting as far as possible, only to have the one nearest her place a burly arm around her shoulders and drag her close. He smelled horrendous, and Jetta faked a whimper at the forced proximity.

Murdoch was identifiable across the fire, for the respect he seemed to demand through mere presence; he was a burly wolf dog of some kind, with ruddy fur and flopped ears. It appeared as though some side of his face had been broken, as his eyes were uneven in his face and his nose appeared somewhat crooked. Jetta had to fight down her disgust. She knew the type, the type that barked orders, the type with eyes that were too free on a woman’s body, the type with hands that were even freer—that was the type of criminal he seemed to be.

”Well, well, well,” Murdoch began, leaning toward them across the fire. The individual with his arm over her shoulder instinctually grabbed Jetta by the hair and displayed her face, twisting it in order to show Murdoch all the angles. It took all of her self control to keep up the ruse of fearful young girl, her lips twitching as though fighting back tears rather than snarls. Jetta could only assume they were doing the same to Moon Moon. ”How much do you think they’re worth, Barnes?” The individual in control of Jetta grunted, and then said, ”At least a shiny penny. Probably a couple horses—“

Whatever else they were going to say, Jetta ignored—her eyes had glimpsed the horses that were being tied by the remaining slave-traders. She saw a mare that fit Moon Moon’s description, and the roan of her own gelding… complete with her belongings, the fighting staff strapped down the length of his back. That was interesting. Very interesting. Jetta could only assume they were stupid, or that they intended to sell their belongings wherever they were going to sell the women.

Jetta tuned back in to what she could only assume had been a monologue. ”—It’s time to celebrate, men. We aven’t ‘ad a haul like this in ages, ‘ave we? No! Break out the moonshine n’look at these beautiful slaves.”


WE’VE SEEN THE STARS AND THE SMOKE,
AND THE SHARKS AND THE CROWS,
THAT’S WHY I MISS YOU, YOU KNOW?

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