forum Welcome back to another episode of “I have too many rp’s but let’s start another” // CLOSED

Started June 18, 2020 by @PaperHats business

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Full Name: Arodin Dawn
Aliases/Nicknames: Blackaxe / Aro / Roro (by close friends/family, while he still had them)
Age: 20
Race: Human / Necromancer (?)
Physical Desc: His hair is dark brown with natural black shades intertwined. It’s short and messy, holding a slight wave to it. It never goes where it’s supposed to and falls into his eyes often. His eyes are a stunning blue, dark and mysterious as the ocean. His skin is a soothing light mocha color, scars dotting and patterning the majority of it. He rarely wears anything more revealing than long sleeves as to keep from showing the scars off. Many of the scars line his upper chest, shoulders, and back, due to being abused/treated extremely harshly as a child. To be expected, he doesn’t wear them proudly. However, if he’s with someone he trusts more than anything, he could be seen wearing something other than a winter tunic. He is built very well, his body toned from having to lift an axe, and he stands at about 6’0”.
Apparel/Gear: Normally, an off-white undershirt accompanied by a black over tunic, decked with belts to hold the hilt of his enormous axe. Other than that, he normally wears greaves and other moderately armored pants. Equipped with his boots that have seen better days, he looks like the perfect balance of a peasant and a lower/middle classman. He’s treated anything but that, because everyone besides the royal hierarchy hates him for what he does.
His axe is a well-made, obsidian, almost glorified executioner’s axe. Looks a little something like this, but the blade is black.
Personality: Cold, distant, calculating, and stubborn as all hell. Aro believes the needs of the few are more important than the needs of the many. He’s concerned for his own life as well as those close to him, but could care less about the others. He keeps mainly to himself and rarely talk unless forced to by someone else. He internally deals with killing criminals or innocents, and it takes a much larger toll on him than he lets on. However, after killing people he believes are innocent, he will discuss with their spirit, and resurrect them if he believes they are actually do-gooders. Once resurrected, he normally sends them off to different cities with new names to make new lives for themselves. As for relationships, he doesn’t necessarily care about his sexuality, considering he has no one in his life he cares about enough to disappoint.
Habits/Mannerisms: He will often space out randomly, his eyes looking like they’re filled with sorrow. He often gives those 1,000-yard-stares when he’s thinking. He rarely gets nervous or flustered, but he hasn’t entirely lost the ability to feel emotion, I promise.
Hobbies: He loves listening to music, although other than training, he doesn’t do much.
Backstory: He lost his parents at a very young age and was taken by the higher classmen as an orphan. They raised him brutally to become the next executioner, despite his wishes. It wasn’t until he actually began killing that he realized he could talk to the spirits from the bodies in which he ended. However, it didn’t take long for him to realize that he could only resurrect those in which he killed.

Arodin sat at the edge of the hallway, in between the staircase that lead up to the main room and the cellars below. His seat was nothing more than a half-dilapidated storage barrel, but it would have to do.
He kept his axe by his side, taking deep breaths as to calm his rapidly beating heart. Although the breaths did nothing in comparison to the adrenaline pumping through his veins. Nonetheless, his face stayed calm and composed, although his knuckles turning a stark white as he gripped the axe harder.
He could hear— no— feel the pounding through the door to the cellars. “Interrogation methods,” they called it. Arodin had always hated that phrase; hated that terrible false hope the words provided. It sounded tasteful and somewhat educated, but the loud thwomps followed by pained yells from within the dungeon made either of those thesis hard to believe.
Taking another deep breath, he closed his eyes, hanging his head for just a moment, his dark hair falling just above his brow.
Though, as the sounds of muffled commands suddenly echoed through the hallway, on the other side, Arodin sat upright and flicked his eyes to the newly opened door.
It seemed today, there’d be another prisoner.

Willem has always feared the day he’d be caught. Not that he’d given much thought since it was something he’d rather not ponder in his spare time. He wasn’t a stranger to pain, in fact he was one to diss out the pain but on his own terms, of course. He didn’t think that one day he’d be on the receiving end.
He’d been caught in an assassination attempt. Of course he’d been paid good money but unfortunately it had been a set up. The bastards. It made his teeth itch to think about. They’d taken him practically by force and dragged him back to the castle, chaining him to the wall in a manner that was less then pleasant.
The fear that pounded through him was an unpleasant feeling but he tried not to show it. Instead just keeping a smirk plastered on his face to hopefully mask it.

The echoes piqued his curiosity greatly, so without a moments notice, Arodin rose from his port at the barrel and strode up the bleak staircase.
It was already a thing to have lower cellars, but the thought of upper ones too was just overkill to Arodin. At least that’s what he thought, the king wanting to “have his criminals poised above,” so they could “actively be reminded about what they did.” Aro had never understood.
He slipped his axe back behind him, the blade glinting menacingly in the dimmer lighting.
Slowly, he came into view. His eyes darted up to the walls, seeing a newer addition.
It was a man cresting early adulthood, his darker golden hair accompanying his brilliant green eyes perfectly. He still held a somewhat sinister grin, which confused Aro quite a bit. Didn’t he know his future? Didn’t he know he was most likely going to die at a place like this?
Although, maybe he was innocent.
Still, with the colder chills sent up Aro’s spine, he wasn’t sure this man was framed. The smug look said it all. Or so he thought.
Aro’s eyes seemed to be resting upon the young man for too long, yet his expression didn’t change as he quickly averted his gaze and kept walking, past the man, and down the hallway again.

Willem watched with carefully trained eyes on the man that was looking right at him. A strange feeling settled in his bones as he felt like he was being inspected. A feeling that almost made his smirk fade and shirk back slightly. Almost. He was known, well, out in the real world he was but here it didn't matter who you were just what you did and the punishment that followed.
He looked away after a moment, though could still feel those eyes on him until he left. Will released a breath, one he didn't know he was holding. The smirk faded not long after, replaced with an unreadable expression. The chains were already starting to nip at his wrists and ankles and the sounds that filled his ears were, to say the least, slightly horrifying.
It was like his worst nightmare come to life. The looming presence of death was everywhere. The place stunk of it. Sure, other people's deaths weren't a problem to him, but his own frightened him to the core. He just hoped it would be over and done quick when the time came, or he was let go and his freedom was granted but the chances of that were slim to none.

(I’m gonna time skip a little)

That night, Arodin couldn’t get the newer prisoner off his mind. He didn’t know why, but the man’s face and his smug expression kept tugging at his thoughts.
It was much later, and the blood coating his axe signified he had just followed through with one of his jobs. The execution hadn’t been public like many others had, because there had been very little publicity with this case in its entirety.
However, the man Aro had just killed was guilty, and he knew it for a fact. The man had even admitted to his crime. And although he didn’t kill anyone, the king believed arson was still punishable by death.
Aro stalked slowly down the halls once more. They kept his sleeping quarters near the upper cells, and he was just thankful he couldn’t hear the god forbidden screams echoing from the lower dungeon.
His footsteps were heavy. Taking a life was never easy.
Aro’s eyes flitted up to look at the prisoner coating the wall. The same young man from before, although his smile had been long gone.
Arodin paused for a moment in front of the man, his bloody axe by his side and clutched tightly with his hand, the knuckles white once more. He didn’t make eye contact, just stood to the side and kept staring forward.
And in sort of a melodic deep voice asked, “What did you do?”

The screams the echoed throughout the halls were starting to flood Willem with dread. Dread for his own fate. A life he’d lived was never going to be easy, and the fact that he thought he could escape death for this long was now a humorous thought to him. What had he been thinking?
When the man once again arrived, that axe by his side his heart decided to do multiple flips and land in his stomach, churning it unpleasantly. So that’s who he was then, the executioner. Once again another thought that he tried to push away.
And when he spoke… he didn’t know whether to answer straightforward or not.
“What have I done? I’ve done many things in my short life it just depends which one you want to know about.”

Arodin cleared his throat, cocking his head to look over at the suspended prisoner.
His expression didn’t change. Aro’s face almost made him look… lost. Empty. But, it’s not like that would be too far off.
“Which one got you imprisoned,” he said, voice much more firm. His eyes almost glowed in the dim lighting, the grey of the walls contrasting with the blue perfectly. The nearby torch reflected fire into the sides of his irises, if he didn’t already look menacing enough. His messy blackened hair fell to his brow, yet he didn’t bother to push it back.
He needed to know what this man had done. If it was, in fact, punishable by death.
He could tell the man was worried— every prisoner was. And Aro had developed a wonderful way of telling who used their sneers and smirks to keep lying to themselves.
They knew the cellars were places to be feared.

“Ah,” Willem sighed, resting his head back against the wall. He could tell this man was one not to mess with, if the axe didn’t give it away already, “Assassination attempt,” He said with a shrug, the metal of the chains clanking as he did so, “But it was a set up, clearly, otherwise I wouldn’t be here talking to you.”
He tried a smile, though it only lasted a few seconds. His fate was sealed. That axe was going to come right down on his neck sooner or later and he’d be gone. He swallowed at the thought.

“You’re going to die,” Arodin muttered coldly, his face unchanging. He didn’t recognize his words as blunt or mean, just fact.
Assassination attempt? The boy would be sent to the chopping block sooner rather than later. And Arodin would be the one to take his life flawlessly.
Although, there was something about this kid. Something about the way his blonde hair fell into his forest eyes. How the dim lighting made him seem rather… enticing? Attractive? Arodin didn't have the right word for it.
And even so, just because Aro… enjoyed the man… didn’t mean he didn’t deserve what was coming his way. If he had tried to kill someone, he would for sure be sentenced to execution.
With a smaller voice but deep nonetheless, Aro mumbled, “Why did you do it?”

(Sorry I had a scholarship interview and meeting)

“Some of us don’t have the luxury of a well paying job,” Willem said. He tilted his head to the side, strands of his hair falling in front of his eyes as he did so, “You have to do what you gotta to survive. Even if it means killing and stealing.”
He flicked his hair back, head tilting to the other side. There was something about him that was almost… feline, in way. Like how a cat would study something it didn’t know. But not feral, no, a cat that wished to be tamed.
He glanced over the other, taking him in, accessing, maybe. Those eyes… he was intimidating to say the least and yet there was something else, something he couldn’t place. He tried not to dwell on the thought, knowing it would give him a headache eventually.

Arodin nodded solemnly, taking a deep breath before slipping his axe to its belt on his back. He would bother with cleaning it later, the blood dried slightly now, but still dripping in a few places. Parts of his tunic were stained— but against the black they just looked like small glossy patches. On the white, however, there were clear sanguine specks, drying slowly.
Aro took another step forward toward the man, eyes studying him closely. He didn’t have the best excuse, and that wouldn’t be justifiable in front of the king either, no matter who was defending him.
With a sigh and an impulsive internal decision, Aro took yet another step forward until his lips were just inches from the man’s ear. His axe hoisted on his back was dangerously close to the man’s face, but the words he spoke did anything but fit it.
“You don’t have to worry,” he crooned in the most comforting tone he could muster. “I will be ordered to take your life… but I can give it back just as easily.”
With one last glance to the man, Aro lingered closely for a moment before turning to walk off.

Willem went a very light shade of pink as he spoke so close to him, not expecting the executioner of all people to come so dangerously close. Yes he was chained and couldn't do anything even if he wanted but the point still stood. for once he was glad of the dim lighting so the change in skin tone wouldn't be obvious against his porcelain skin.
The words he spoke were anything but what he had been expecting. In fact he was a little taken aback and it showed, eyes widening before he blinked a couple times, "I- what?" He asked, but by the time he had found the words, he had already walked away. Was mysterious a character trait of his? It seemed so.
Willem supposed that in due time he would get to understand.