if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you tagged |
The job request board was full of letters from those who needed things done, but couldn't do those jobs on their own or were too scared to do them. Standing before the large, wooden board was a tall man, with hair as black as the night sky, strands of white like stars shining bright. One of his hands would run gingerly across the board, pointer finger's sharp claw looking for a specific name of a job he had learned about. Of a job that involved stable-hands and flesh-eating mares: a job that had sounded most appealing to the young male. His finger would pause on a letter and his red eyes would skim the words sloppily written on the parchment paper, then his finger would twitch and snatch the paper off the board. A sly grin spilled over his lips, revealing fangs that were ready to tear the flesh off of bone and the bone off of its sickly marrow. He would turn from the stand and exit the guild hall, beginning his travels to the Cursed Lands: the lands no one ever returned from.
Marschal's feet would lightly step on the ground, carrying him toward his destination, toward the end of what would be the stable-hands. His claws would dig into the palms of his hands, drawing dark blood, pupils dilated as he looked around for the stable he needed. The world was dark and menacing here, but this place felt like a natural home to the hanyō, for his eyes easily adjusted to the dim lighting. In the distance, the mage would catch wind of the sound of horses neighing, and the felinistic man would change his destination accordingly. Marschy would walk a long distance before he would run across the broken down stable that would contain the fleshing-eating mares. He paused at the entrance of the stable, staring menacingly into the dark depths, just quietly listening to what was going on inside.
Walking out from the building would be a man dressed in trousers, and he would look up from the ground, noticing Marschal, and yell, "hey!"
Marschal went rigid when the man yelled at him, his eyes going wide and his body stiffening from the words. He didn't know what was going to happen now: if the person was going to attack him or send him off to work. So, the man just stood there as rigid as possible, waiting for the man to come charging at him or walking over to scold him. What he really didn't want to do right now was help the stablehands clean up horse shit and keep the horses calm. No, what he really needed to do was get the mares out of the stables and to the man who wanted them. The man wasn't moving though; in fact, he wasn't even sure anymore if the man planned on attacking him or not. Warily, Marschal would look around, for maybe the man wasn't talking to him at all, but to someone else.
No one else was around though, all he could hear was the silence echoing into the air and ringing in his ears. Thus, Marschy was slightly confused as to what was going on; was there a spider on him or a creature behind him? He'd run his arms over his body, checking to make sure no insect was on him, but he didn't feel anything, and looked back at the man. His eyes would narrow suspiciously and look around again, but once more, nothing would make an announcement of their presence. It was getting awfully strange to him now, and awkward.
[604 words; counts as 3 posts]
--
Marschal's feet would lightly step on the ground, carrying him toward his destination, toward the end of what would be the stable-hands. His claws would dig into the palms of his hands, drawing dark blood, pupils dilated as he looked around for the stable he needed. The world was dark and menacing here, but this place felt like a natural home to the hanyō, for his eyes easily adjusted to the dim lighting. In the distance, the mage would catch wind of the sound of horses neighing, and the felinistic man would change his destination accordingly. Marschy would walk a long distance before he would run across the broken down stable that would contain the fleshing-eating mares. He paused at the entrance of the stable, staring menacingly into the dark depths, just quietly listening to what was going on inside.
Walking out from the building would be a man dressed in trousers, and he would look up from the ground, noticing Marschal, and yell, "hey!"
Marschal went rigid when the man yelled at him, his eyes going wide and his body stiffening from the words. He didn't know what was going to happen now: if the person was going to attack him or send him off to work. So, the man just stood there as rigid as possible, waiting for the man to come charging at him or walking over to scold him. What he really didn't want to do right now was help the stablehands clean up horse shit and keep the horses calm. No, what he really needed to do was get the mares out of the stables and to the man who wanted them. The man wasn't moving though; in fact, he wasn't even sure anymore if the man planned on attacking him or not. Warily, Marschal would look around, for maybe the man wasn't talking to him at all, but to someone else.
No one else was around though, all he could hear was the silence echoing into the air and ringing in his ears. Thus, Marschy was slightly confused as to what was going on; was there a spider on him or a creature behind him? He'd run his arms over his body, checking to make sure no insect was on him, but he didn't feel anything, and looked back at the man. His eyes would narrow suspiciously and look around again, but once more, nothing would make an announcement of their presence. It was getting awfully strange to him now, and awkward.
[604 words; counts as 3 posts]
Last edited by Marschal Leigh on 10th February 2016, 10:41 am; edited 3 times in total