forum I'm alive and not sure for how long (MATURE + CLOSED)

Started September 09, 2023 by @Desvelarse pets

tune

Thatcher certainly seemed bound by some form of code or rules, and was clearly nervous about someone coming to enforce them.
Valiel chose to ignore his cruelty and sharpness. It was nothing she hadn't weathered before, and he was an enemy; she could handle his barbs.
She noted he turned his head, and some small part of her was pleased that he at least had a sense of decency, somewhere under the 'killing people for hire'.

Moving to the window she nodded in response to his question. "Unless you want to fight past the guards, yes." She looked down, glad her room was only 2 stories up. The guards were still busy other places and if they hurried, they might be able to get out unnoticed. "I can get down. Can you? Do I need to carry you or Nike?" Her words were hurried and hushed, but for the moment, collected.

Thatcher looked down out the window. Not a far drop at all, he would be able to get out easily and Nike should be ok if she takes it slow. She was much more durable than the average dog, and was mostly muscle. She seemed to agree, jumping up to put her front paws on the windowsill, waiting for it to be opened.

“We’ll both manage,” he answered with a shake of his head. He shut his eyes, and in a puff of dark ash, his body seemed to crumble into dust. It was no cause for concern, as she ash began to move and form into a murder of around five crows. The crows cawed, wings fluttering as a couple of them flew up to land on the windowsill. They waited expectantly for Valiel to open the window for them.

Valiel nodded, looking at Nike. She was trying to decide if she could become something that could carry the hound, when Thatcher's transformation surprised her. She stepped back, watching, part of her delighted.
"Well. That's convenient." The window was unlocked and thrown open a moment later, and Valiel shifted to a crow, of the same size as Thatcher's crows. Her feathers were tipped with that tell-tale red color, the same as her hair in her natural form, but otherwise, she looked like the 6th member of the murder.
"Can you speak like this?" she asked quietly. "Otherwise, I'll just follow your lead."

Nike made the move out the window without any hesitation. She leapt out, bouncing off a low hanging roof before pushing off of it to land on the ground. She sat down, looking up at the window as she patiently waited for Thatcher and Valiel to follow.

The head of one of the crows shook. He was not able to really speak, just caw. It was a bit inconvenient, but Valiel said that she would follow him, and he trusted her to keep up. The murder took flight out of the window, heading South. Nike followed after them from on the ground, keeping pace fairly well. He knew that she would be ok, and that if she lost them, she would be able to track their scent and catch up to them easily.

Thatcher flew for close to an hour before landing on the porch of a dark cabin. There were no lights on, and it looked like it had not been used in quite some time. In the same cloud of ash, he formed back into his human form, sitting on the rail. He got off of the rail, smoothing his clothes out a bit as he watched Nike break through the brush and trot up the porch steps to them.

They exited the grounds of the Palace of Rime with relative ease. In all the chaos still happening, Nike was ignored as long as she ignored everyone else. And nobody had any second thoughts about the crows overhead.
Valiel followed Thatcher, staying with him as they left the area around Konrack. She knew she was likely to be followed, but he also seemed convinced someone was coming for him, so…
They could just get chased down together and hope for the best.

As Thatcher landed and formed back, Valiel shifted mid-air into her previous form as Alnifer and walked the last few steps up. "You're just full of surprises, huh…"

(Was thinking they could be right outside of it)

Thatcher glanced over at Valiel as he made his way to the wooden door, pulling it open. “Surprises? Not sure what you mean,” he replied shortly. He stepped into the small cabin, Nike on his heels. It was dark in there, seeming to have no power. It was only one story, consisting of an open living room and kitchen plan. A hallway went down one side, where there was a single bedroom and bathroom. It was small but had the necessities. He stepped over to the fireplace that was in the living room and pushed a couple pieces of wood that were sitting off to the side into it. He picked up a box of matches that was laying nearby and struck the match, catching the wood to provide a bit of warmth and light.

“I have no idea if there’s anything in the kitchen to eat. This is a safe house for Reapers that we rest in sometimes during travels. We don’t require for to live like humans do, so unless someone was a bit bored, there may not be anything,” he said as he stood up straight, stepping back from the fire. “If anything, Nike can fetch you something.”

"I mean that you told me you were a travelling mortician, which I can't believe I fell for, and then you showed up at the feast, turned out to be an assassin, displayed some form of moral code, and are now sheltering me and yourself in a cabin just outside of Hinterland borders. Lots to be surprised about." Valiel kept her voice low. She wasn't trying to castigate him, though she felt like doing do, just a little.

She stepped up into the doorway of the cabing behind Thatcher, but didn't go in. She wasn't sure it was safe. She wasn't entirely sure he was safe.
"Reapers?" The word was unfamiliar to her. Her father had just referred to him as an assassin.
She wasn't hungry at the moment. The feast had been plenty, and even if her stomach had been empty, she didn't think she'd be able to eat with the knot of uncertainty currently residing there

Thatcher paused and arched his brow as he listened. “Assassin? No, that’s not what I am,” he scoffed. Assassins killed for money, he did nothing of the sort. “I’m a Reaper. It’s a species. We kill and heal to help balance the order of the world. I have no say in who I kill or heal, it’s just fate. I don’t do it for money or power.”

He exhaled sharply as he took a seat in one of the chairs in the living room. Nike trotted over to him and laid down by his feet, resting her head on her paws. “I have no choice on who I kill- not unless I defect,” he added, which is exactly what he had done that night. “Reapers are held to a code that we are sworn to at birth. Defecting can result in serious punishment or execution. That is what I am facing now because of what I did.”

Valiel listened closely, her eyes focused and clear as she processed the information. So not an assassin then, who killed by choice. A species born specifically to kill.
And heal, he said, but she'd seen the lethality in his blade, the speed with which he'd moved and dispatched Phyros.

He seemed offended by the notion he was an assassin, and Valiel filed that info away. Maybe he didn't like what he was, or… really sincerely thought of Reapers as different. She'd need to learn more before she fully passed judgment.

She quirked an eyebrow at his words. "So you are bound to a code. And you broke it in killing Phyros instead of me? Can't you just…" she paused, aware that the question she was about to ask had been asked already, but the intent was different this time.

"Can't you just kill me and get yourself out of trouble?" She wasn't asking this time because she wanted to die, but… it wouldn't be bad, and Thatcher was clearly upset and in dire straits because he'd left her alive. "Or is there more to it I'm not understanding?"

Thatcher did take offense to being called an assassin. Reapers were so much more than that. They gave and took life in a beautiful sort of ritualistic way. Everything about it felt sacred to him, like a religion. The gods had blessed him to be a reaper, and he took things very seriously.

Thatcher shook his head when Valiel suggested he kill her. “It doesn’t work like that, you can’t just cancel it out,” he started, “Besides, you’re not mine to reap anymore. Another reaper has your name. Me doing so would cause further punishment at this point.” Hiding away with Valiel would also cause punishment. He didn’t plan on getting caught, though. Not any time soon, at least. He could keep running, but the others would catch up to him and drag him back to the Council eventually. It was only a matter of time.

Thatcher sank against the sofa that was in the living room with a deep sigh. Nike laid by his feet, whining as she did so. The palms of his hands rubbed over his face. Reapers didn’t need to sleep, but he felt exhausted- like he could sleep for the next century of his life. He would be ok with that. It would be better than how his current fate was playing out.

Valiel sincerely had no intention of offending Thatcher. She could tell she was stepping all over his toes about several things at once. Part of her wanted to smooth it over and try to be nice.
And part of her didn't care. Regardless, he was a killer who'd been sent after her. Allies of convenience, and nothing more.
In fact…
"If it can't be canceled out, then I'm sorry I'm not an easy fix to your problem." The fact another reaper had her name didn't escape her. "But someone will be coming after me anyway, you say?"
She watched as he sank into the chair, Nike settling with him. Valiel stepped back from the door. "It seems I've brought nothing but trouble to you… thank you for helping me with Phyros." She took another step back, looking ready to bolt into the woods. "I just-…. why did you help me?"

Thatcher nodded his head in confirmation. “Yes, another Reaper,” he said, tilting his head back up to look at Valiel. “I don’t know who it will be until I see them, but they will be of a higher rank and they won’t spare you like I did.” There would be no sympathy from this other Reaper. Friend of his or not, no amount of convincing would make them defect like he did.

Thatcher watched her, staying still. Valiel reminded him of a rabbit- frozen and ready to dart at any sign of movement. He would treat her as such. He thought back to when he first stumbled upon Valiel and Phyros in her bedroom. He shook his head at the sickening thought. “I’m a killer, yes, but I have morals. When I saw what he was about to do to you, I-…” he breathed out sharply, shoulders slouching, “I couldn’t stand there and watch that happen. I couldn’t watch him violate you, whether I had to reap you or not.”

Valiel nodded slowly, thinking. The further she got from the castle and Phyros's body and her father's wrath, the less the thought of dying appealed to her.
"Well… Thanks for the warning." she said quietly.

His explanation made sense. He seemed like a decent person, despite the livelihood in dealing death. It was a code, a way of life he'd sworn himself to, and he said it included saving life at times as well.
So Thatcher wasn't a bad person.

But still. He'd been sent to kill her, and had just admitted to only saving her out of a general sense of what was right. That didn't bode well for him trying to save her again, especially from another of his kind.

"Again, then… thank you." She took another step back. "I do hope things go well for you."
She spared one glance at Nike, before turning and hurrying off into the woods. There was no point in staying where she was only going to be a source of problems.

Thatcher shot to his feet when it was clear that Valiel was about to run. "Wait, Valiel, no- there's no way you will survive out there," he started in a desperate sort of tine, holding his hands up in a nonthreatening way. But she was quickly taking off before he could get another word in. He shouted her name before cursing lowly to himself. If she got killed, then his defection had been for practically nothing.

With the new knowledge of a Reaper being able to kill a skin changer, Thatcher was quite worried. Valiel was strong, but compared to an advanced level Reaper? There was no way anything but tragedy would occur when the Reaper caught up to her. He looked to Nike, who had also jumped to her feet at Thatcher's yelling. He had to stop Valiel somehow. "Nike, go fetch," he told the hound, and she took off out the door with a loud couple of barks. Nike would find Valiel, and would do everything she could to bring her back, whether that was through force or not. If anything, Nike could stay on her trail and help Thatcher to catch up if bringing Valiel to him wasn't an option.

Valiel had seen Thatcher stand, but wasn't sure she wanted to hear what he had to say. She didn't know how to feel just now, but… going back to the Hinterlands would be a bad idea. She was likely being held culpable for the murder of Phyros. She'd also find herself watched more closely, punished more severely, and eventually married off, again to someone she didn't even like, let alone love.
Going with Thatcher… didn't seem much better. He was in trouble, over her, and was being hunted by his own kind, who were also hunting her. Just… seemed like a bad idea.
So she didn't listen to his words. She just kept running.

Once into the woods a little ways, she shifted to stonebear form, her fur the same reddish color as her hair usually was. This form was big enough that most things would leave her alone.

Not far into the woods, she heard barking behind her, and recognized the sounds of Nike pursuing her. That wasn't a good sign… Shifting to dire wolf form would make her faster, and allow her to move along the same lines as Nike. She'd fly if she had to, but that was the most energy intensive way to move, even over running.

She kept moving, not sure if Nike was just following her, or worse, hunting her…

Nike moved quickly, jumping over fallen rocks and branches. She moved in an agile and nimble way, not breaking her stride for one moment. She had caught onto Valiel’s scent rather quickly, it being recognizable to her.

It wasn’t long before Nike could see Valiel. She pushed herself further and further, set on the target she had been given. She would have done anything to please Thatcher, to do as he told her to. She was a loyal hound. She took off to the side sharply, making her way up a ledge before leaping off and coming down on Valiel. They both rolled and Nike was swiftly on top of her, growling with the wolf’s scruff in her jaws. She didn’t bite hard enough to break skin, just to hold her in place. It was clear that Nike would drag Valiel back if possible.

Thatcher didn’t want that to be the case. He had earlier shifted into the flock of crows and done his best to follow Nike. When she had Valiel pinned, the crowd landed on the ground and he shifted back, standing over them. “Nike, off,” he told her and she got off of Valiel, still held her by the scruff. He turned his attention to Valiel, pleading with her. “Valiel, please. Change back so I can speak with you.”

Valiel kept moving, aware Nike was gaining on her, but not entirely sure by how much. She was just considering shifting into something that could fly away, when the hellhound took a flying leap onto her back.
She rolled with the impact, but being a dire wolf, she was much larger than Nike, and simply stood up with the doberman-sized hound on her back, hanging from her scruff. It wasn't comfortable, but Valiel was sure it wasn't meant to be, either.

She immediately shifted shapes. shrinking, the scruff disappearing and leaving Nike with nothing but a mouth full of feathers. A couple of flaps took her up into the tall branches of a tree, over Thatcher's head. He couldn't talk as a bird, so if he wanted to come up here, he'd have to nix his hopes for a conversation.
If he wantred to talk to her, she certainly wasn't having that conversation while pinned.

"You're welcome to talk all you like." she called down to him, her voice sounding different, bird-like, but recognizably her.

Nike snapped at the birds, jumping up onto the tree, barking and snarling. As friendly as she had seemed with Valiel before, she was deathly loyal to Thatcher. She could be very close with someone, but if Thatcher gave the word, she would tear them to shreds. It seemed like the friendly hound that had been eager for affection from Valiel was switched in a complete 180.

Thatcher scoffed and took a couple of steps back so he could see above him into the trees. “You’re being childish,” he commented, sounding like an annoyed parent.

“You’re not going to make it out here long. You have a better chance with us,” Thatcher said, crossing his arms over his chest. He whistled and Nike let out a final, deep growl before leaving the tree and falling back into a heel next to Thatcher. “It’s clear Reapers can kill shifters now, the other Reaper will know that and they will hunt you down. You won’t be able to kill them- or even really injure them too badly for that matter- by any means you can manage. You’ll need something like this.”

To show what he meant, the scythe formed into his hand. His finger dragged against the blade of the scythe, cutting it open. ‘Blood’, which was really a rich white gold, dripped from the slice. “The metal forged to make a Reapers weapon is our weakness. If you keep running, it’s only a matter of time. Come back to the cabin and I can help you.”

Valiel spared Nike a glance, but she was confident she was high enough up in the tree to be safe. The change in the hound's demeanor didn't escape her, though she wasn't surprised. Hell hounds weren't known for being lapdogs.

It took a solid effort to keep from laughing at Thatcher calling her childish. Leaving someone whose sole purpose in meeting you had been to kill you seemed… well. Many things, but childish wasn't on the list.

"What makes you think I won't make it out here long?" She wasn't sure if he meant out in the woods, or outside the Hinterlands, but she was quite confident either way. His clarification that he meant she wouldn't last long with a Reaper on her tail made more sense.
She still wasn't sure exactly what she wanted out of the situation- part of her thought maybe she just ought to let the Reaper kill her, and part of her would rather not. Figuring out which part was the bigger bit was her task at the moment.
She wanted to mumble 'you don't know that' to his assertion about her inability to hurt them, but he was likely right, so she didn't bother.

His offer of help was… interesting, to say the least. "Give me one good reason why I should trust you." Before, they had both run, but it hadn't required her to trust his judgment so much as him trusting her about getting out of the Palace of Rime and off the grounds.
But now? They weren't friends. They weren't even neutral acquaintances. He had actively been her enemy, and It wasn't as if she was just going to trust what he had to say.
In fact, he might even still be on mission. She had no idea if his little code was even a real thing, or if it might be some ploy to get another shot at killing her, or other members of her family.

No. There was no way he was going to make her trust him. Not easily. Not now.

“I don’t think you won’t make it out here long, I know you won’t. Reapers are trained hunters. I found you easily and this one will do an even better and quicker job at it,” Thatcher said. He wasn’t sure why he was going through so much trouble to want to help her. Maybe it was his morals, or maybe it was the fact that he had already risked everything for her so why not go the extra mile to help further?

The sooner Thatcher found out who the Reaper was, the better. If he knew who they were, he would be able to watch out for the type of bird and be aware of their weapon. It would give the both of them a step up on what to watch out for.

That was a good question though. Why should Valiel trust him? Though he had saved her from Phyros, he had still be sent to kill her in the first place. He had pretended to be something of an acquaintance to do so. He felt guilty for it, but he had only been doing what he was born to do. He didn’t have much choice in the matter originally. It was what he was created for.

“Your best chance at survival is with me. Once that Reaper is off your trail- our trails- you can go run off wherever you would like. That would be, if they didn’t send another one. It could be a repeating cycle of never ending Reapers sent until the job was done, and he wouldn’t be able to do much about it. He had seen multiple been sent in the past, and he knew that if that happened, it would surely happen again for something like this.

Valiel furrowed her little owl brow at him. He had only found her easily because she was a royal, and had literally been pointed out to him in a festive setting. Furthermore, he seemed to not know anything about Skin-changers or the Hinterlands, which meant other Reapers wouldn't either. Unless they'd just tried to screw Thatcher, for some reason.
"I don't think so. You're about to get dragged back by whatever people assigned you your mission, or at least that's how you made it sound. Seems to me that by putting us together, we double our chances of getting found and killed."
She chuckled quietly, ruefully. "And none of that convinces me that you aren't still just a killer out for my blood. Certainly, siccing your hound on me has really changed my mind about you being after me somehow."
Antagonizing Thatcher wasn't her goal, but he was the murderer here.

It had been the second option. Many of the elder Reapers were well versed in thousands of different species and surely knew of Skin-changers. Thatcher had just been given the dirty work to see how he would handle it. Clearly, he was not handling it well at all, given the circumstances.

“We will both get found eventually, but there being two of us and one of them gives us a much better chance at getting out of this alive,” Thatcher argued. His palm opened, scythe falling apart as the shadow tendrils crept back up his sleep and into the mark on his arm. “Anything I do now is out of free will. Why would I want to kill you after I went through all the trouble of saving you?”

Thatcher glanced down at Nike, who was still staring closely at the owl, tail flicking back and forth sharply in an agitated sort of way. “She was only going to bring you back. Maybe with a bit of force, but she wasn’t going to seriously hurt or kill you,” he said, shaking his head a bit. “This is your last chance, Valiel. Come back with me, please.”

"You said there was no getting out of this alive, though… that you'd be hunted down and punished, and I'd be hunted down and the Reaper would fulfill his duty. Like it's inevitable." Valiel didn't know what to believe, at this point. Thatcher seemed to be talking in circles. "And you were nice before, with the goal of killing me in mind, so… maybe you saved me so it would be your kill, and not Phyros's or anyone else's."
That was a paranoid line of thinking, but at the moment, she felt justified in being a bit paranoid. Maybe she shouldn't be, though… he seemed so sure of what he was saying, despite changing the details a couple times…

But her uncertainty evaporated, and turned into anger at his final plea. "This is my 'last chance'? Or what, Thatcher? Or you're going to leave me all alone, helpless and defenseless? Or maybe, try and use force to get me to bend to your will?" Light blazed from her eyes, forcing Nike to look away. Something about the white light was immediately painful to the hellhound, and oddly uncomfortable to Thatcher.
"Just another man trying to control my life. I'll take my chances by myself." She turned and flapped away, shifting to a nighthawk and disappearing over the trees.

Thatcher had wanted to argue with Valiel further, but he kept his mouth shut. Maybe it was for the better to let her go. He should think for himself and his own self rather than others. He knew well enough that the Reaper would be more concerned with completing the kill before dragging him back home where his punishment waited for him. That was what he could hope, at least, that he had a little more time.

Valiel was gone before he could get another word in. Thatcher cursed under his breath, rubbing his hands over his face. That was it. He wouldn't chase after her any further. He could confidently say that he had tried his best to reason with her, but she was not one who wanted to listen to him. His best bet at that point was to go back to the cabin where there was shelter. He was too vulnerable out in the open woods.

Upon arriving back at the cabin, Thatcher froze. The door that he had closed behind him was propped open now. He knew he had shut it behind him because he hadn't wanted the fire to go out when he was gone. Could it have been the harsh wind that blew through the air?

Thatcher stalked up to the cabin, but the moment he stepped up onto the porch, a sharp pain punched into the right side of his ribs. He gasped from the pain as he stumbled back, tripping on the steps and landing on his tailbone. He looked down at himself, seeing an arrow sticking from his skin. The way the wound burned made it clear that it was a Reaper's weapon. Nike stood over him, snarling at the doorway as a tall, slim figure stepped out from the shadows. It was a pale skinned woman, blonde curly hair looking neat and golden. Her blue eyes were full of anger as she stood at the top of the steps, large recurve style bow in hand. Another arrow was already knocked in place on the string.

"Marrissa," Thatcher breathed out, recognizing his old friend immediately. They had grown up together for quite some time and he considered her to be one of his close friends. Her mother was a member of the Council, making her status above his.

"Thatcher, you fucking fool," she hissed, moving down the steps. Thatcher moved himself back, putting some distance between the two of them.