forum Revolutionary War Roleplay! [CLOSED]

Started December 04, 2018 by @KalamariCakes

tune

April kissed him gently, lovingly. “What do you want to do?”

"I.. I dunno," Cruz murmured. "I just.. Don't… Understand…"

“Don’t understand..?” she prompted gently.

"Why would he… Leave me.. To die?" Cruz spoke very slowly on the topic of his French comrade. "Why would he…? Why didn't he…"

“I….” April chewed her lip. “Cruz, you haven’t told me what happened yet.”

Cruz's nose ran down his shaking lips, his face tilted downcast. He just couldn't… He couldn't face it. Not yet..

A soft exhale parted her lips.
“I can’t say for certain because I don’t know what happened…. but your friends wouldn’t leave you if they had the ability to save you.”

Cruz suddenly outburst with rage. "He left me there! He left me there to die and be eaten by the dogs!" He yelled til his voice broke.

April kept tight hold of his hand, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. “Was he tied up as well?”

John left the tent with a deep huff– off to get a drink, give some time to himself.

The barmaid was wiping off the counter when he walked in. Her eyes scanned him and her smooth lips pulled into a smile. "Can I help you?" she asked, a light French accent tainting her words.

April kept tight hold of his hand, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. “Was he tied up as well?”

Cruz's breath trembled with emotion, with the trauma of the memory. "Yes," he whimpered, "he was.."

“Then… Cruz, if he was tied up, how could he have come after you?” It hurt, so badly, to see Cruz like this, a mere shell of who he had once been..

John left the tent with a deep huff– off to get a drink, give some time to himself.

The barmaid was wiping off the counter when he walked in. Her eyes scanned him and her smooth lips pulled into a smile. "Can I help you?" she asked, a light French accent tainting her words.

"A brandy, please," John croaked tiredly, fixing his pristine coat and its prominent medals of military status. He took a seat and removed his bicorn hat.

“Then… Cruz, if he was tied up, how could he have come after you?” It hurt, so badly, to see Cruz like this, a mere shell of who he had once been..

"If he.. Would've kust given them what they wanted," his voice wavered between depressed weakness and a hoarse rage, it could never find a balance. "If he would've just… just," he gasped for air.

“What…” She inhaled shakily, licked her dry lips. “What did they want?”

"Military intel. That's all they ever want," he whispered.

April fell silent, fishing for words but coming up dry.

He rubbed his fingernails, the Spaniard's breath shaking quietly.

“How much intel?” she spoke up, “What did they ask?” She had to know. She had to know what her lover’s well-being had been traded for.

His face contorted, "Where the bullets were kept."

April was silent again, not knowing what to do or say, hardly having any idea what to think.

Cruz lifted his legs and curled up into himself, silently reliving it, replaying the sound of metal blade scraping against his skull, wanting to purge himself of it– feeling the insatiable urge to wash himself, scrub himself raw.

April squeezed his hand, a silent reassurance. “What do you want me to bring you?”

"I just want you.." Cruz murmured.

John left the tent with a deep huff– off to get a drink, give some time to himself.

The barmaid was wiping off the counter when he walked in. Her eyes scanned him and her smooth lips pulled into a smile. "Can I help you?" she asked, a light French accent tainting her words.

"A brandy, please," John croaked tiredly, fixing his pristine coat and its prominent medals of military status. He took a seat and removed his bicorn hat.

She fixed him the drink and put it down in front of him, eyeing him up. "So, why are you here? Everybody has a reason. And a handsome monsieur like yourself should never have to look so sad."