forum || Age of Anarchy || Closed, but stalkers welcome || PG-13ish || OxO

Started March 27, 2020 by @Moriarty

tune

Ayano tried not to make a weird face as Saul looked up.
“No. He doesn’t say much at all.”
With her chores practically done, Ayano still needed to busy herself with things until she had to make Saul’s last meal. She could probably wash any clothes now, since she normally did that late at night, and the always dirty and stained smock she wore at night. Though, it might still be damp by the time she had to give up her day clothes.
She bowed her head to dismiss herself, hoping, yet again, that was the last of the conversation. Washing the clothes should perfectly fill in the gap between now and cooking.

(( :3 evil noise Alright, if we're ready, I'll go ahead and start.))

Fortunately for Ayano, the conversation ended there, and Saul didn't bother her with anything else. Once she'd finished his dinner, he devoured it and seemed pretty pleased with himself. So pleased, in fact, that he downed a bunch of expensive alcohol and practically knocked himself out. He barely made it to his own bed before he collapsed into an alcohol-induced sleep, but he seemed as peaceful as a man like him could be.
Though, the night would not be a peaceful one.

(Aye, if you want me to start the inciting incident of the attack, your response can be relatively short, but I left this vague so that you can add more if you'd like. ^-^)

(I feel bad about it, but I would prefer for you to start the incident btw. I’m not very cut out for that, and I’ll spend way too long there. Eheheh …)

Ayano had finished washing and hanging all of the clothing, but her smock was still a bit too damp for her to put on. So, she’d need to wait to change out of her day clothes.
Though luckily Saul had drank himself to sleep, so Ayano would probably be okay. She probably should sleep soon though, so she won’t waste anytime and gets up soon enough to eat. But she couldn’t accidentally fall asleep with her day clothes on … then the only other option was to wear those weird undergarment things and hide behind her smock until it dried.
With her last hoping of the day, Ayano wished against everything else, that Sawyer would be asleep when she stepped outside.

(No problemo! ^-^)

Sawyer wasn't asleep, but he was not necessarily "alert* and paying close attention, either. He was huddled up in the back of the pen, hugging his knees close to himself, listening to the sounds around him.

Meanwhile, a member of the local pack, the Outsiders, had attempted to steal an expensive gun from one of the Merchants during a deal. The Merchant, not one to be ripped off, saw what was happening and didn't take kindly to it. He and several other Merchant members jumped the man and promptly shot him with the very gun he had attempted to steal– their own sense of irony.
Unfortunately, the little squabble had become a pretty big deal, and the other members of Outsider were infuriated. The Merchants justified their actions by explaining that thievery was punishable by death, and that everyone knew this. The Outsiders didn't like this answer. As far as they were concerned, the Merchants had killed one of their members, and that meant war.
This was precisely why, in the middle of the night, a large group of Outsiders came with weapons to attack the infiltrate the Merchants' markets and homes, with intentions on pillaging as much as possible.
And of course, destroying as many Merchants as they could.
Like silent assassins, they crept into the Merchants' base with ease, late after the sun had set. Many Merchants were night owls, up working in their workshops, and the Outsiders were wise to avoid those homes– for now, at least. They wanted to make their destruction silent.
They knew they'd probably lose this war, but by golly, they were gonna kill as many Merchants as they could before the night was up.

Sawyer had been listening intently to the night sounds, because he rather enjoyed them– especially the sound of the little frogs croaking. But he heard something else that made him sit upright and squint into the darkness, focusing his ears to listen closer.
Footsteps?
Quiet, quick, nimble footsteps.

Ayano held onto her smock tighter and tighter, water dripping down her wrists.
If there was any kinds of noises, she wouldn’t have noticed. She was so focused on her destination, her footsteps, and how loud her heart beat- nothing would get through to her.
There would be an empty slave pen out here, and by far, the cleanest. As clean as could be out here, really. She could rest up a bit there, and then she could change into her smock that would hopefully be dry by then, and finally eat. It was a perfect routine, and nothing could possibly go wrong. Unless Saul woke up a bit early and grumpy and hungover … then maybe not so much. She’d just have to deal with it though.