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Archive 30 / broken-loop
Triggers: Violence, Gore, existential horror, paranoia, animal and human death, references to racism and genocide, trauma, potentially distressing sexual content, substance abuse, references to sexual abuse
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Ambrose Scott BOT 10/06/2023 19:06
The dust settled at the bottom of the ravine. Whatever river of water had once flowed through it had long since dried up, though the blood and bodies were working hard to make up for it. Carts and wagons lay smashed apart on the ground, supplies scattered around or crushed beneath their debris. The oxen and horses hadn't fared much better, and the vast majority of human travelers even less so. Three months ago, the first among them head set out to seek out the profits rumoured to be waiting in the west. Such positive outcomes were no longer in sight. A stray plank from one of the wagons tumbled from the pile, accompanied by the sound of coughing. As Ambrose pulled himself to his feet from within the wreckage, he swayed. There was no telling whether the dots of colour that taunted the edges of his vision were signs that he remained dazed, or the simple effects of the late afternoon sun beating down on him. He drew in a gasping breath, still hunched over. Dark hair clung to his forehead due to the mix of sweat and blood from a cut he'd acquired on his head during the fall. Despite every muscle in his body screaming in protest at the action, he climbed out of the wreck, placing his boots firmly in the dirt. A pained bellowing to his left caught his attention. One of the oxen. Barley, to be precise. His primary job throughout the journey had been animal care, and he'd named those whose actual owners hadn't bothered. He approached the large brown-and-white ox, favouring his right leg as he moved. One of Barley's hind legs had been pinned beneath a cart. The other had snapped at an unnatural angle, leaving the bull unable to lift his head. His companion hadn't survived the fall.
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. A small part of Ambrose remained hopeful enough to kneel beside Barley and inspect the damage. Just closely enough to kill that shred of hope that the injury could be recovered from. "Shit." Even that word was spoken softly, like a surgeon reassuring a young patient as he reached for the percussion pistol holstered at his side. "I'm sorry, buddy." He was sure his elders would have had something more eloquent to say beforehand, something to show due respect and lend some ceremony to the grisly act of mercy. But he wasn't them, and what knowledge he'd had in youth had been beaten out of him during his school years. The gunshot rang through the space around them. It made things quick for Barley, but caused deeper pain yet for Ambrose. He told himself it was just the recoil but was not convinced. This wasn't his first time having to put down an animal in his care. It never got easier, but he had to carry on. He put the gun back and rolled back his sleeves. Too late to avoid getting them bloody, but it helped alleviate the heat around him for a moment. He set about the rest of the wreckage at hand, trying to find signs that someone else had survived. He told himself there was no way he could be the only one, even if the ache that consumed his entire spine reminded him that it was a distinct possibility. Ever now and then, he looked up at the cliffs above. Whatever had spooked the draft animals off that gorge, no sign of it remained, but he knew the animals were too smart to have run off without a good reason. "Anyone-?"
19:07
. He stopped as he spotted someone. Sawyer, if memory served him correctly. He hadn't gotten on too well with most of his human travel companions, and this one had just joined on recently, but that hardly seemed to matter now. He extended a hand to help if it was needed. "If you want to try and salvage anything, you might want to make it quick." He squinted up at the shadows of scavengers circling overhead. "No animal survivors. Sooner we find a town, the better." Beneath their feet, a line of the dirt remained just dark enough compared to its surroundings to be recognizable as some form of pathway. Ahead, the shadows of buildings could just barely be made out by someone with sharp enough eyes. @Vampire Vox
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Sawyer BOT 10/06/2023 20:55
That hadn't gone to plan. The minds of animals were soft and malleable, especially dense beasts of the carts. Predators are coming... to rend your flesh. Snap bones between jaws, lap your blood. Your masters walk you to your deaths.... He'd grinned seeing them panic and ignore their bridles and leads. He hadn't expected the searing pain behind his eyes that sent his knees to the dirt and head in his hands. The pain made his breathing seize, teeth grit tight enough he worried they may break. He'd spent the twenty minutes writhing in the dirt, heartbeat like a knife cutting behind his eyes, spitting up bile that stung his split lips. Vomiting made him feel better.... The gunshot forced him to his feet. Someone had survived enough to have the strength to put down the ox that had been lowing. He picked down the clifflines, not feeling the blood leaking from one of his ears down his jawline, staining his shirt. Wobbling he took the others hand to get to the base of the gorge. "My horse bucked me off. Damn animals just jumped..." his voice wavered, realizing the amount of destruction he'd caused. He'd caused death before considering his situation bit this was... beyond. Shakily he picked his way towards where his horse may have hit the ground, looking up at the cliff edge with a hand over his eyes to gauge the distance. He'd picked up his saddlebag, his gun, and his hat he'd tied to the saddle. He couldn't feel anyone else's mind... only Ambrose. He tucked on his hat, his white hair dirty and bloody, straightening up sorely. "It'll take us longer to get to town from down here. We should bring any supplies we can back up." He grunted through grit teeth, a migraine behind his eyes. "Honestly we should break for the night at the top. We both need the rest after this." Sawyer started through the carts, tearing away wood and canvas to check the supplies beneath. He needed enough for Ambrose, and to pretend himself. The food brought him no fulfillment, and he often had t
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o walk off to vomit it back up. "Based on the scouting before all this we were a few days off on horse and wagon, longer now that we lost them all." He said lightly as he dropped a box by Ambrose' side. "Any broken bones, mate? You're standing at least..." He thumped down to sit, holding out a waterskin.
20:55
@hALloween
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Ambrose Scott BOT 10/07/2023 01:15
If Ambrose hadn't seen it firsthand, he wouldn't have taken the claim at face value. Even after he had, he still had his share of questions, having worked with animals for years. He frowned, looking over at the carnage as he contemplated just what in the world had happened. Draft animals weren't the smartest out there, but they still had survival instincts on their side, just like any creature. Panicking for no reason, especially en masse, was counterintuitive to survival. "Something had to have scared them. One startling for no reason, but all at once..." He shook his head, before looking over at Sawyer. Head wounds had their way of bleeding a lot, so he wasn't about to panic over the blood around the other man's ears. Instead, he focused on the task at hand, nodding in agreement at his words and walking back to the wagon he'd been in to check on everything. First his meagre supplies, then the things others had brought. No need for food in the afterlife. Water was the first priority, and spirits in case they ran out of that or needed something for a quick painkiller. Shelter, too. There was a canvas tent packed up, only a size for one person, but better than nothing. A small sack of jerky too, since that was going to keep well on the trip. Decently packed, he walked back to Sawyer. Visible in the distance or not, the town would be a trek away with no horses, plus supplies to weigh them down. The pain still nagged at him, but was negligible enough once he got to moving around and focusing on someone else. It was only standing idly by and thinking about what to do next that gave it the chance to bug him. Keep on moving and it'll hurt less seemed to be advice he'd spent too much of his life following, but it had worked well enough for him so far.
01:15
. More than himself, he'd observed the other man's behaviours during their conversation. Didn't take a doctor to see the guy was in pain, and potentially worse off than himself. His own small cut could be bandaged up, no problem; he couldn't be certain of the extent of Sawyer's injuries yet. He slowed to a stop, looking down as the box was set down. The thought momentarily crossed his mind that, without the animals around, he was technically useless as far as the opinions of most in the company were concerned. Oh well, he was more useful than a dead man. Unless they ran out of food. He pushed that particular grim thought away. "Don't think anything's broken," he said, since he'd been moving just fine. He rubbed the back of his neck, still sore but otherwise tolerable enough. "Reckon I got pretty lucky." He'd originally set out with an employer, an upstart merchant he'd been told. Or maybe, in hindsight, a sketchy one trying to avoid the authorities before anyone caught on to whatever the guy had actually been up to. He'd paid well and, more importantly to his survival, packed more blankets into the wagon than any reasonable person could possibly have needed out here. Something soft to break his fall. He'd just call it luck for now. He looked at the blood that showed past Sawyer's curtain of white hair, frowning slightly. "You seemed pretty hurt, yourself." He sat beside Sawyer, picking up the box to look at the supplies in it. "Hit your head on anything? A bump on the head isn't something to be trifled with, so I've heard." He paused, closed the box, and took the waterskin to get a quick swig of the liquid inside. Something to hold him over for the trip ahead, but not too much. He held it back out to him. "Odd though, there's no town anywhere near here on the map. Must be a new settlement." Even as he said that, something struck him as... off. He just couldn't be sure of what. .
01:15
"We've got time to patch you up and get up there by nightfall," he said with a brief nod toward where Sawyer had said they'd stop for the night. "Anyone could be out here, so I wouldn't want to travel too far by night, cooler air or not." Wild animals were likely too, sure, but he knew well enough to be more scared of other people. @Vampire Vox
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Sawyer BOT 10/07/2023 02:12
He motioned him keep the waterskin after he used a bit to wet a rag, rubbing the side of his face clean. "I'm fine. No fog and I've been deaf in this side anyways." He reassured, lieing of his current state. His ears were ringing like church bells. He packed food to carry for Ambrose. He could mock eat for a while before the other would catch on, if he was as dense as some of the others had been. He started on the corpses, pulling them out and setting them in a line shoulder to shoulder. Pockets to search, waistcoats to cut open.... He tugged on one of the others coats to replace his own, yanking them free from slightly stiff limbs. The sun didn't harm him, but did cause discomfort to his fair skin. He never tanned, no matter how long he'd stuck to the light, and the duster would cover much better than his previous coat. Sawyer had long been a crow, a scavenger and collector of things lost or stolen. He slipped one of the men's rings onto a thin finger, holding the stone up to the filtering light. A necklace, a wedding ring, a watch, a good knife, a pocket fold.... He eventually pushed up, bringing the cross of his necklace to his lips and turned away to return to the carts. "If you find any ammunition for the rifles, I'll take it. Firestarter too to keep off the animals." He muttered as he started repacking a bag to carry. Jerkey and hardtack would serve for his 'diet'. He swung the bag over his shoulder and followed the other, his gun in hand and a wood post in the other to keep his balance. His knees were still a bit jelly and shaky. Ambrose' observation of Sawyer resulted in more questions than answers. He didn't look like a trailblazer. Barely 5'9" and thin as a willow, stark white hair was tied back into a thick braid. He'd burst blood vessels in his eyes staining the whites scarlet, and his thin hands were stained sanguine. Long nails were immaculate and unchipped, though dirty. He was thin and pale; uncallused despite the hard life of the roads. He e
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ventually cast aside the walking stick to hold his belt. The town not being on the maps wasn't new. It'd been that way since the start of the expansion west. The mention of the town scared him for some reason he couldn't understand. A terror that made his heart race in his throat until he feared it'd burst. Even Ambrose' mention made him shiver. He'd looked down on the town many times, listening to the whispers in his head. He had to bring people there, despite they never seemed to stay. Their wagons disappeared after a while. He never saw anyone outside. There was never children. Never people on the road coming from there.... but he knew he had to bring people there. He'd meant for the beasts to break their leads and leave the people to walk, requiring a place to rest and buy new horses, but the dumb animals ruined that.... He hoped one man would suppress the screaming in his mind. He glanced to Ambrose next to him, swallowing down hard, refusing to let the guilt rise like bile to his mouth.
02:12
@hALloween
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Ambrose Scott BOT 10/07/2023 11:20
Felt wrong, looting the corpses outright like that. Something about respect for the dead. Wrong, perhaps. Disrespectful, definitely. Practical? Absolutely. Ambrose reminded himself that he and Sawyer had more use for it now than any of the dead did, and he wasn't about to sit around being useless. Knives and ammunition - assuming the right kind - could be used, valuables could be sold, food could be eaten, and so forth. Still, as he stood up to take another look around what had been left in the cart, he made it a point to at least pretend he was avoiding anything that seemed sentimental in nature. Guilt was an interesting driver of behaviour, at times. "Using one of the older rifles, I'm guessing?" he asked Sawyer. If that was the case, he could keep the percussion cap ammunition to himself. It wasn't that he didn't trust the guy, he just... didn't like the idea of leaving all of the ammunition to one person. He looked back at him. Still, he looked delicate, bordering on ghostly in a way, especially how even after time in the sun, he somehow remained pale. Like something out of the scary stories he'd loved hearing from his grandparents as a kid. He pushed the hair back out of his own eyes again. He'd been taught as a child that it was only to be shaved in a specific manner as an adult, and it was otherwise kept long. Then the missionaries at the school had shaved it all off. Nowadays, he just did what seemed most practical with it, which currently meant it would be due for a trim soon. Once he'd finished packing what seemed useful enough, he turned toward Sawyer, caught him staring. Not an unfamiliar behaviour. Even with other Native folks, the traits he'd inherited from whoever his father had been had a way of standing out, seeming unusual. Pale eyes being the most damning evidence of difference. But this look was something else. His brows lifted, but he didn't comment on it.
11:20
. "Here." He held a bag out to Sawyer. Some of the ammunition he'd found, and a few pieces of flint and steel. "Ready to head up that way?" The thought crossed his mind that the smart thing might be to stay put. But out here like this, there was no guarantee help would come, or that he wouldn't be blamed when the bodies were found. He certainly wouldn't be missed if nobody came by. So he started walking, following the least steep incline available. Longer, but safer. To keep his mind off of what had just happened, he tried to strike up conversation. "So. Sawyer, right?" he asked, checking to make sure he was keeping pace with the other man. Or that he was even coming with him. "What made you wanna come out here in the first place? Gold, like most of the others?" @Vampire Vox
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Sawyer BOT 10/07/2023 20:31
"Aye. Sawyer. There's nothing left behind for me." He shrugged lazily, and kept his mouth shut. He didnt return the questionings and conversation. Sawyer slipped on loose stones and cussed softly as he caught himself. His migraine made his sight untrustworthy. At the top of the hill, Sawyer bent double to cough up bile into the dirt. Holding his braid out of the way, he washed out his mouth with alcohol, looking back as Ambrose joined him at the top. "I need to rest." He admitted shaking his head gently with shame clouding his judgment. He meant to move quickly and now his failure was slowing them down. He crossed over the road to the other side wanting away from the gulch, thumping to sit down. He stripped off his hat next to him and dropped the pack and blanket. He was laying down before Ambrose could protest their stopping. Wrapping up in his coat, he hid from the fading evening sunlight. ~ He woke again with the stars sitting up with a soft groan, grateful his headache had passed. Staring up at the swirling night above his eyes, Sawyer tried to keep his mind off everything else. Just stare at the sky.... Forcing himself to sit up, he looked to where Ambrose was. If he'd stayed with him or moved on.... Part of him expected Ambrose to be gone.
20:31
@hALloween
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Ambrose Scott BOT 10/07/2023 23:43
"Huh." The small grunt of agreement was all Ambrose gave in response to Sawyer's answer to his question. The other man didn't seem too interested in his own story, or keen on elaborating, so there was no need to spend energy on asking why, or claiming that his own reasons were similar. Plenty of people felt that way about life out on the east coast, after all. Nothing new or special about it, as far as anyone could tell. He paused beside Sawyer at the top of the hill, looking down at him. "You sure you're fine?" he asked, as he seemed quite self-evidently to not be fine. He'd been clumsy on the way up, and was now getting sick on their expected campsite. "Yeah, we said we'd rest anyway. Go on, take a seat." Except he was already laying down, seemingly not caring whether Ambrose agreed to rest or not. Seemed safer to stay together though, take shifts sleeping so the main danger would be each other. He draped a blanket - though admittedly a threadbare one, dirty from the fall and the journey - over the other man. There wasn't wood out here for a fire, and it would be better to spare supplies if they found themselves somewhere colder, so he went without for now. Instead, he sat down a few feet from where Sawyer lay, opening up the waterskin and getting some of the food they'd brought along. Not a full meal - they had to save plenty for both of them - but a snack to tide him over for now. He hadn't had much appetite anyway, after the afternoon's disaster. As he ate, he watched the sun set, red claiming the sky where it had been blue before, then the silver of dusk overtaking that before fading into the dark sky of nighttime. Peaceful, but more silent than he was used to. It had seemed, in the woods out east, there had always been the sounds of insects chirping, only the species themselves changing with the time of day. In the plains and deserts out here, the sounds were different, but ever present. But now, on this hill, it was eerily silent.
23:43
~~~ Ambrose had admittedly zoned out a bit, before he noticed the movement as Sawyer stirred. He looked back at him, watching him sit up. At least he was moving. At least he'd woken up, rather than passing in his sleep. He didn't want to have to bury the only other survivor from that incident. "Think we should've buried the others before we left?" he found himself asking, then shook his head. Sentimental nonsense. He was supposed to be better than that. "No, never mind. Not much the two of us could've done, specially in your state." He turned to face him fully. Drowsiness tugged at his eyes, but he knew he wouldn't be getting a restful sleep if he tried. "How's your head? You sure we don't need to stitch you up?" @Vampire Vox
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Sawyer BOT 10/09/2023 20:38
"I'm fine now. Rest. My selfishness is finished." He laughed softly noting the blanket, tossing it back to Ambrose. He felt considerably better; sleep pulling the thorns from his brain. "They would've been dug up by the animals. God will receive them; whether in the ground or faces to the sun. Their bodies are empty houses." He pushed up stretching until his joints popped, stripping off his coat and leaving it over his pack. "I apologize for falling asleep. I don't even remember laying down..." He tugged a brush from his pack, raking it through his hair quickly just to think. It always seemed to help.... he had an upper limit to his mental control of animals. He'd not be trying that again. "I'm going to get some firewood." He snagged his short blade, heading to some of the scrub brush to collect some wood. He kept Ambrose in sight, eyes splitting the dark without much issue. He had to be cautious with the light reflecting his eyes green. He paid little attention to the small wildlife. Snakes, he'd found, largely left him be. He returned with some of the hardy scrub in his arms, dumping it to the dirt. It took him a good while but he got a fire going, though it was small and flickering. Sawyer was used to being alone, so having to fill the air with conversation was more difficult than he expected. "Lay down. Sleep. I'll be up." He promised, holding a stick to poke the flames, his pale face sallow in the firelight.
20:38
@hALloween
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Ambrose Scott BOT 10/10/2023 11:19
Ambrose caught the thrown blanket, managing a tired half-smile in return. Sawyer had a point about the animals finding the bodies anyway, at least. Even if leaving them entirely unattended to - aside from the looting - felt disrespectful, there were higher priorities. Survival, mainly. "Don't worry about it. You wouldn't have been any use like that, stumbling around like injured prey. Respect your own limits. Besides, it's my turn to 'selfishly' rest." As he spoke, he wrapped the blanket around himself, remaining seated for now. "I'll be right here." He yawned, watching Sawyer disappear from view. Of all the time he'd spent traveling out here, he'd never been out alone at night. Logically, the other man wouldn't have gone too far. Just out of his sight, limited as it was by the darkness. He'd expected the sudden isolation to make him nervous, but it was oddly... peaceful, in a way. Like a part of him knew this might be one of the last times he could let himself be at ease. Still, he remained alert until he saw Sawyer's moonlit figure return. "I could help with the fire," he said, though it was only a protest out of politeness. In reality, he was relieved at the chance to rest, and slowly lay down, heedless of the dirt and too tired to set up the canvas tent he'd brought along. His eyes shut, and he drifted off to sleep. Funny, how the distant howls of coyotes never came anywhere near their exposed campsite. ~~~
11:19
The sun had begun to rise by the time he stirred awake, chasing away the merciful cool of the night with the return of the day's punishing heat. He grumbled softly, rolling a bit as he tried to disentangle himself from the blanket. He managed to free one hand and held it up to shield his eyes as they opened. It wasn't often nowadays that he found himself waking directly in the dirt, and he remembered that he'd never much liked it. But life on the trail had gotten him used to waking to aches and pains anyway. "I didn't waste too much time, did I?" he asked, though he hadn't even looked around to see exactly where Sawyer was yet. @Vampire Vox
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Sawyer BOT 10/16/2023 03:04
"Not at all. We both needed the rest." He'd sat near the dead coals, hat pulled low and collar high. Animals had given his fill for blood, but he'd be lieing if he hadn't sat watching Ambrose sleep. He'd had humans before but it'd been a long time.... He'd brought up more supplies in the night and packed more away in his bag. More food and tools, and valuables. "Fires gone. Cold food will have to do." He sighed holding out a freshly opened can, enough taken out to pretend he had a small meal. While Ambrose ate, he cleaned his nails and retrimmed them short with his knife. He had to do it daily for his hands and feet, as well as his hair. It'd reach his ass if he left it untrimmed as it was now. "I'd rather be a little slow and careful than trying to run for town." He chuckled brushing his nails with his other thumb to check how flat they were, "we have enough food to take our time." He pulled on socks and his boots before grabbing his braid, cutting it to his shoulders again. It'd seemingly grown in the night.... He tossed the braid onto the dead charcoal and retied it up, pulling back on his hat. @hALloween
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Ambrose Scott BOT 10/16/2023 22:14
Ambrose looked up at the proffered can of food. He already knew it was likely to taste more like tin than whatever kind of meat it pretended to be, but that didn't stop him from devouring what was left. Hardly a dent had been made in the food, which meant more for him. Still, he glanced over at Sawyer halfway through his meal, only speaking once he'd swallowed what was in his mouth. "Sure you don't need more? No wonder you're so skinny." He smiled. "Anyway, cold food's better than no food." He finished eating fairly quickly after that, then put his own socks and boots on. Once he stood, he packed up the blanket, then took one more look at the campsite around them to make sure they hadn't missed anything. Satisfied that they had everything - which seemed a decent deal more than they'd originally arrived with - he nodded over to Sawyer. "Slow and careful," he agreed. Not like they'd get too fast with this many supplies anyway. He held a hand over his brow to shield his eyes from the sun as he looked out toward the town. Still there. He wasn't sure why he'd expected anything else. Without another word, he headed out in the direction of the town. "Maybe I should've waited for accurate maps of the area to come out," he commented. "I don't remember there being a town out here on any of them." @Vampire Vox
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Sawyer BOT 02/29/2024 05:26
"I am alright thank you for the concern." He chuckled tucking his now shoulder length hair behind his ears, somehow looking strange without his braid despite them having not much time together. At subject of the town it took him a moment to speak, "I heard it's new.... been a while since mapping in this area. I've had friends go this way before." He pulled up the bags and set his shoulder into the walk. "Besides maps aren't the most trustworthy at times." He swallowed hard as the burn slightly increased beneath his tongue. It started in the night and he wasn't fully sure why.... His gums tasted like copper and salt and liquor from blood. He eventually broke out a piece of Jerkey just to keep his mind busy. Between the burn and the food, not vomiting from the feeling of eating was the larger concern. One boot before the other. He stared at the cracked earth, purposely stepping across the valleys in the dirt. Crushing the edges beneath the thick soles.... part of it was satisfying. He didn't bother to pull himself out of his induced trance staring at the ground. He could truly walk for days if he must, though he would feel the exhaustion or the pain. As long as he had the will he could move. He'd walked his feet bloody before without notice. He'd gotten the boots then, as people around him had panicked.... It'd taken a month or so for him to realize he wasn't the same as them. He'd woken in an inn, without any idea who or what he was. It was an odd feeling, trying to rewind in his mind and finding nothing. He'd found his name in a bar, when a woman tried flirting and guessing it. Her second guess had sounded fine enough. Shoulder aching he adjusted the bag and glanced to Ambrose trying to gage the others strength. If they fought would he win? Sawyer blinked hard realizing he'd imagined something so bloody and quickly turned his eyes back forwards. Silently, he kept his sanguine hallucinations to himself and his racing heart.
05:28
@hALloween
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Ambrose Scott BOT 03/05/2024 01:02
A new settlement, of course. There was nothing unusual about it in this day and age, and cartographers were notoriously unreliable out here. It was all entirely reasonable. So why couldn't Ambrose stop the dread that filled him when he looked toward the town? He frowned slightly, but made no comment beyond a half-hearted "you have a point" as he continued forward. They had a destination, and from there they could plan and resupply. Maybe find a new group of travelers to join, since it sounded like neither of them had anything for them back east. Or go their separate ways. While his companion stared thoughtfully at the ground, Ambrose kept his attention ahead. He squinted against the bright sun. Only a few hours north, they would be in the plains, with more hospitable grassland available. But that was according to the maps, which hadn't been promising when it came to the possibility of finding a town there. At least if they kept ahead, they would know there was one ahead. One they would be able to reach before the sun set and dark came over them again. Despite the aching and swelling of his ankle, he didn't mind carrying his share of the supplies as far as they needed. Years of physical labour had made him more than strong enough, physically well-built on top of his naturally broad-shouldered frame. He felt Sawyer's gaze on him and turned his head to look, but the other man had already looked away. If he'd been looking at all. Maybe he was just being paranoid again, constantly worried that he was being watched. Given his childhood in the school, it wasn't entirely irrational. Either way, he looked ahead and breached the silence. "So, any plans once we get into town?" he asked. "Aside from find an inn, maybe a doctor, and rest?" As much as he didn't mind silence normally, something about this situation made him uneasy with it. Maybe it was the memory of their dead, of realizing he might be the only survivor. @Vampire Vox
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Sawyer BOT 03/11/2024 22:26
"Sleep and a meal and I move on. I'm not sticking around." He shoved another piece of salted hellfood, that of which he decided was sent by God to torture him now, into his cheek. "Ugh take this shit from me." He grimaced muttering to himself and gave up, spitting out the food in his mouth, tucking the bag of jerky away. When Ambrose inevitably slowed, Sawyer picked up some of the weight hauling a pack over his shoulder. They needed to keep moving and he was going to push Ambrose if he needed, picking up the slack. As he walked he practiced. His attempt with the animals had twisted up his mind in knots and now he was slightly gun-shy. Gingerly he'd extend his thoughts. Ambrose was a loud scream of sound at his side and he didn't try to breach that wall into the man's mind, tenderly stepping around it. Insects and animals were a soft buzz, like whispering in the next room over when you were half asleep. Larger animals in the distance gave forth quiet bursts of thought and understandings just as all animals had. Their concerns were food and shelter and the heat.... The first concern was other people. Thieves and cutthroats would take advantage of two men walking alone and he needed to keep alert. He needed to know if they were coming. "You have somewhere you're going? A plan at all?" @hALloween
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Ambrose Scott BOT 03/13/2024 23:07
Ambrose hadn't caught Sawyer's exact words, but he noted the expression on the slimmer man's face and heard him spit something out. "Don't like the jerky?" he guessed, his tone sympathetic. Maybe they'd have to hunt fresh then, since there wasn't much that wasn't dried or canned that would be stable enough for the road. Then again, with any luck, they wouldn't be traveling for much longer. As much as he was used to physical labour, he was used to to doing it in cooler temperatures, and not after a major incident like the wagon crash. So he gave Sawyer an appreciative nod as he took some of the weight from him and kept walking. Odd, how his companion seemed almost tireless. He didn't look too sturdy. He kept his comments to himself though, and kept his attention ahead. Nobody else seemed to be around, which wasn't surprising; he recalled someone claiming that the Arapaho in this territory avoided the area around the gorge. The leader of the wagon train had dismissed their avoidance as superstition, despite Ambrose's assumption that it was likely bad ground for hunting and therefore just not worth going near for anyone living there long-term. Either way, they had followed the path where they were least likely to encounter anyone trying to defend the territory. The question pulled him from his thoughts. He glanced over at Sawyer. It wasn't something he'd considered, since his plan had been to continue working for his now-deceased employer. "My first plan didn't pan out, what with my boss being gone now," he admitted. "I think I'll get some rest, see if I can find work in town, then buy a horse to go on to the next town if luck's not with me here." The shapes of the town were clearer now. A wooden sign, not quite close enough to be legible, and the shadows of various buildings rising up behind it. Indistinct, but certainly real and closer now. @Vampire Vox
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Sawyer BOT 03/26/2024 05:13
His panic got worse as they grew closer until it was just his heart pounding in his ears. His hands trembled against the straps of his bags and eventually it felt like he was moving through waist high snow. The ground was melting beneath his boots and his legs were unaccustomed to handle it. He feared he'd be swallowed up and drown in the soil. "We need to stop. I need to stop." He panted softly with hitched breath, offloading the bags of his shoulders and dropping them. The bit of scrub against the side of the road would do well enough to keep them hidden. He left the bags and thumped to sit, dropping his head to his palms. Being this close was wrong. He shouldn't be this near. He desperately wanted to be anywhere else; dead crushed under a wagon, strung up four towns back when he'd gotten caught stealing a horse.... anywhere. Sawyer would refuse to move, silent even if spoken too, tugging down his hat to block the panic in his face. He'd never felt like this before: primal fear that twisted his stomach in knots and forced him to mentally retreat into his own silence. The aura from the village sent him mentally deaf and unable to sense anyone potentially coming. Sawyer seemed shut down even as the sun began to set. He didn't notice when the temperature dropped nor the light dipped below the horizon. @hALloween
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Ambrose Scott BOT 04/07/2024 23:28
They stopped, though Ambrose could not figure out why at first. His eyes had been on the road ahead, after all, and not on his travel companion. That is, not until Sawyer said to stop. He complied but gave him a puzzled look. For the first time, the man's stricken expression was clear. He set what he was still carrying down carefully and glanced toward the town. He wasn't sure what it was that had him so scared. He'd hoped to reach town by nightfall, to refill their flasks - his, at least, had run low - and have a warm meal, then maybe even sleep in a real bed if luck had it. But they weren't getting anywhere in this state. One time, he'd been tending to a previous employer's sheep at night. The sounds of wolves howling had drifted in past the hilltops, and the youngest of them had been frozen in terror, unable to move or respond to commands. He'd made the mistake of touching the lamb, spooking it and getting kicked in the knee for his troubles. He'd also seen plenty of humans get scared, but Sawyer's present fear was far more reminiscent of that primal, animal terror from before. "Sawyer?" He tried anyway, but got the response he'd expected - nothing. He stepped around him so he was directly in front, facing him. "What's wrong? Did you hear or see something?" Nothing gave him a hint as to the source of this fear. Reassurances proved equally ineffective, especially when he wasn't sure everything would be fine. In the end, the sky grew dark and he gave up. He stepped away from Sawyer and set to work on preparing camp a few feet back from where Sawyer had said to stop, a little further from the town but not much. Once they at least had a tent, he approached again with a blanket. After all, it was cold and Sawyer wasn't moving. He wasn't about to risk touching him in this state. His movements were slow and cautious as he draped the blanket around his shoulders, unsure whether it would do anything but make him less cold until it fell. "Can you hear me?"
23:28
@Vampire Vox
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Sawyer BOT 05/21/2024 08:23
Sawyer: As the blanket fell about his shoulders, Ambrose could see red down his front, head rolling aside with a fall of silver moonlight hair. His eyes were empty. Glassy and flat. Ragged slices across his throat flayed deep, a red smile from ear to ear. His feet had made marks from his heels and his arms were cut from attempting to protect himself. His rifle butt was smeared with blood, the barrel crumpled in places as if a hammer had been taken to it. Someone had come up behind him and muted him enough their scuffle was silent in the dark. Ambrose had been too distracted to hear... somehow. It wasn't like he was far away how had Ambrose not been able to hear?!
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Information BOT 05/21/2024 08:23
Info: As Ambrose inevitably straightened up from his examination of Sawyer's corpse, he felt a gun to the back of his skull, "Don't fuckin' move hear me? I gutted your friend so don't fuckin' test me." He pushed the gun slightly harder into his hair, sharp against his skull. "Go to your fire and sit down." He ordered once Ambrose had been patted down, taking off anything that could be used against them. As Ambrose sat he could see the other two of the trio digging through Sawyer's bags, hissing and bickering with each other. "Why are you out here? Bad out here for yall." He chuckled still keeping the gun towards Ambrose head. They'd been silent as if they appeared out of the night themselves, eyes reflecting green and yellow in the firelight like coyotes and they bickered like them too. Snapping and nudging and fighting over Sawyer's things. "Little shit was useless as a guard aye?" The gunman chuffed head cocking as he walked around Ambrose's fire, the gun kept trained to his face. "We're supposed to kill any of 'em that show up but suppose we can drag you in as an exception." He smiled with broken teeth, lank hair black and hanging in tangled ropes. He chuckled as one of the others dropped Sawyer's bag by Ambrose's to take with them. "We got rope? Else we can just bag 'im." "Nah he won't be dumb if he's smart." "Shit words." "Shut up" "Both of you shut the hell up. Pack up to move. We can't get through and inside 'till the morning. So get fuckin' ready to leave." He motioned with the gun, tsking angrily and receiving hisses from the other two.
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Sawyer BOT 05/21/2024 08:24
@hALloween
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Ambrose Scott BOT 05/29/2024 19:25
The sight wasn't clear in the darkness, but the body language, those splotches of darkness, and the sudden, sharp scent of blood hit the moment he stood close to Sawyer. He jerked his hands away, stepping - almost falling - back with a shot before the hard barrel of a gun pressed against his scalp. He froze, staring straight ahead at his travel companion. How had he not heard or seen anything until now? His heart raced, and he had to consciously tell himself to breathe. His mind swam, and every movement was an immense effort as he was told to sit. Still, he lurched forward, taking a seat by the fire as the situation cleared a bit. Three of them, at least that he could see - he couldn't assume there wouldn't be more out of sight. He and Sawyer would have been outnumbered even if they hadn't been caught off-guard. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to answer that question or if it was rhetorical. As it was, his voice didn't want to come out at first. "I- we..." He paused, took a deep breath, then tried again. "We crashed. Over in the gorge. There wasn't much anyplace to go except that town up ahead." He hated it, staring down the gun being pointed at him, but a part of his mind worried that if he looked away, he was more likely to get shot. An irrational thought - if the gun fired when he was looking at it, he wouldn't be able to move fast enough to dodge anyway. He kept his gaze on it anyway, trying and failing to hide his fear. He listened to them bicker. If he was someone else, the sort of protagonist people told trickster fables about, he might be able to turn them against each other and make his escape. But this was reality, not some tall tale, and that was a risk he couldn't take.
19:25
"I may not be smart, but I'm not dumb either," he commented instead, because he didn't want to seem like enough of a threat that they'd have to restrain him. "I'm not about to try and run or fight when I'm outnumbered and you all managed to kill my friend here without me noticing. Clearly, you all know what you're doing here and I'm not trying to die." A bit of flattery couldn't hurt. He hoped. "Do you need help packing up, or should I stay here and wait?" @Vampire Vox
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