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Legend of Zelda: Malum Chapter 2

Title: Fragments of the Sky

Pairing: Oc x Cia / Oc x Ganondorf / Zelda x Ganondorf / Zelda x Link / Oc x Oc Era: AU / Prequel / BotW Rating: Mature

Summary: 10,000 years ago the Calamity had been defeated. Today Hyrule stands on the precipice of peace and ruin. Land and crop are slowly withering away due to unknown circumstances, some believe it is the Calamity returning to the world. But when the Hyrule King proposes a betrothal between the hailing Gerudo King and the Princess of Hyrule tensions are raised. In a scramble for prestige the castle dwellers will stop at nothing to achieve their own agendas but the Princess dreads marrying the Gerudo King while others seeks to remove the Hyrule King from his throne and some would see to Hyrule’s destruction.

There was a terrible silence upon Hyrule in those very moments. A speechlessness that spoke far louder than any words could and the white haired servant girl felt a tightness in her chest as she looked upon the King who sat on his throne, the only comfortable man in the entire room. And in a way that was the sort of ruler that Johan was, terrible in so many ways yet lawfully so. In Hyrule it was a father who chose his daughter's husband...and poor Princess Zelda had been given an unfavorable collection of cards. So it would seem the man with the eyes of fire would, to some degree, get what he wanted. Much to the disgrace of a fair many sorts around the castle. The servants knew what it was like to run from the blades of the Gerudo – many women had lost husbands to the amazonian demons...and even a few men had managed to perform lamely enough to be released from their clutches. The soldiers on the other hand...most of them barely knew what to do with the pointy end of their swords much less how to thwart a sand rat's attack, most of them still trembled in their knees when Keese pecked at their helmets at night. But she knew that Johan wouldn’t have just handed over his most precious possession without an ulterior motive behind it. It didn’t mean that she didn’t feel terrible for the Princess however, she did. Though she and the girl were not close, Zelda was still the only figure she could have considered to be family - a sister not by blood but a sister no less. In a sense Johan was too just as a father figure. He menaced over her life just as he had over Zelda’s of course. They had many things in common Zelda and her playmate yet they didn’t outwardly realize it until now when their eyes finally met for the first time since the start of this debacle. And the white haired girl showed a rare emotion towards the Princess, sympathy. Just as Urbosa did. And all Zelda had to do was take a look around to discover that she was not alone in her peril over this situation...but Ark didn’t imagine it helped her much...considering what the future foretold for her. But perhaps there was another way that she could ease the brunt of her situation for her.

She had lived beneath Johan’s roof for eleven years and for eleven years not so much as the tapestries changed in the hallways. Hyrule was a frozen kingdom fallen into a false sense of safety and complacency. For eleven years she changed their chamber pots and had her hair pulled out by bored noble men while their wives laughed and encourage them. Eleven years of wayward stares and insensitive comments. Eleven years of being gazed at like some rare and exotic animal wanted only for the thrill of dominating something different...a trophy to remind them all who was stronger. Eleven years of birthdays that only the kitchen cook, Marta, remembered. Eleven years of servitude to a King who was not her King. And finally...in eleven long years something god forbid had changed. Eleven years and finally he was here and her wait was over. She found the sight of the Gerudo King once more as he accepted his newfound status into the Royal Court. He seemed so far out of her reach...and he was unrefined to be certain - but there was no stone that could not be polished. And while the man she looked upon would one day, upon Johan’s demise, be husband to Princess Zelda she saw a far greater potential in him...she just needed to tame that beast before he won himself a beheading before a crown. That would be her gift to Princess Zelda so that when the insidious day did come...perhaps the Gerudo King might be lulled into showing mercy to the poor Hylian Princess who did not ask for this life.

Yet there were still snakes abound in this great chess game. Johan and the Gerudo King were like cobras, hissing and spitting at each other while the rest slithered around looking for what benefited them the most out of this treaty. You could tell by the looks on their faces, they feared this change...but they would adapt. They would grow venomous if they had to and the sanctity of the Hyrulean Court would rot away. But the greatest unanswered question of the day was why? Why would Johan do such a thing? Well perhaps Johan was as tired as she was of this groundhog kingdom that never seemed to learn or change. But she knew exactly why in her heart and it reminded her of the decades worth of pain and suffering she had endured by his hand. Her surrogate father enjoyed to keep his enemies close while feigning ignorance to their true intentions. Johan enjoyed to play with his food before he ate it so to speak but most important Johan enjoyed the power he held over others. And while he might dangle a delectable bone to a starving dog...it never meant he intended to actually feed it. But it was the idea of being fed that so often compelled a beast to heel. Ganondorf might have thought he had been given the key to his desires...but he did not notice the chains wrapped around his neck all the same. And like a rabid beast he would pull at those chains, not knowing why he was not able to move forward. He would yank and rage against them, so blinded by his own greed and hatred, until he strangled himself. The reality was that Johan had no intention of giving his daughter away, this was nothing more than a lesson to her of how to defeat an enemy before he was an enemy. Johan knew that Ganondorf would slip up sooner rather than later, providing the Hyrule King with all that he needed to order the gallows rise. The Gerudo King would never see it coming...the poor beast.

But, it was during trying times when the beasts would rear their ugly heads. One such beast drew away her stare from the Gerudo King as the armored knight made her way out from position and removed her helm. Proposing grandly the request that she be the one to escort the supplies into the desert. Ark squinted at the woman in distrust from afar. She knew of Colette only in passing but it was no secret to her that the girl held a certain displeasure of Princess Zelda, while adoring King Johan. Ark always had a sense about others, a gift her father had taught her. But when it came to Colette...Ark hadn’t quite figured out where the knight fit in in her world - was she her enemy or was she her ally? Only time would tell.

And for a moment Johan perked his brow at Ganondorf’s odd request for a female fleet, some wild Gerudo custom against the presence of men that were not their King he’d forgotten about. Such a custom Johan felt little need to abide by but he would do so nonetheless. “I do not have many female soldiers in my battalion, protection will be limited.” Johan replied carefully, watching as Colette presented herself before him. She always had a way of injecting herself into places where she didn’t need to be...but he supposed that the request for a woman might have sounded like an invitation for the knight to come forward - only one of a few who met such a requirement. “This is one of my best knights, she will guard the caravan and the servants. I trust her services will be sound…” Johan trailed off into thought as he adjusted in his chair. “Come here girl. Bring the Sheikah down with you.” The King called out suddenly, drawing the handmaid's gaze quickly as he locked eyes with her but she did not dawdle as she looked back to Kala whom looked about as surprised as she did. And gathering her dress in her hands the pair made quick pace down the curving marble staircase and to the front of the court, stopping between the Princess and King’s thrones in silence.

“Kala will accompany you, Colette. Hyrule is dangerous - a Sheikah will be indispensable.” Of course Kala had nothing to say, she was not so bold, and so she bowed her head to the King in acceptance of her duty. And that worked just fine for the Hyrule King who reached out to take the Handmaid’s wrist and guided her closer to his person. “Arkaeni will show you to the guest wing, she speaks the Gerudo language and she is quite cultured.” The King added, “And when you have taken care of our guests my darling...please help Marta load the supplies you are quite strong and she is not.”

“As you wish.” Ark replied quietly, staring at the floor.

Colette stood by her king, her wicked red eyes darting to and fro with the Gerudo standing so close by. She didn't trust any of them, and she assumed her king had well thought out plans for the likes of this Ganondorf. The man was intimidating, especially by normal Hylian standards. She imagined if Johan was standing side by side he would look like a dwarf to this dark skinned monster. The lot of them were nothing but dusty mongrels from the desert, but she was interested to see where they came from. Their taste in fashion was much different than anything she had seen in her home, nothing like the Sheikah or the townsfolk anyway. “If that is your wish, sire.” She placed a hand upon her silver colored breastplate and bowed her head, her long dark hair spilling down over her armor. The small group waited as the girl Ganondorf recognized as the one that Johan had been eyeing before his arrival came down to meet them. She was much more striking than anyone here, sticking out more so than any of the Hylians and a lot more pale and unusual compared to Gerudo. He supposed she had more in common with these people but he got a strange vibe from the woman. It wasn't familiarity, but he was curious in her, and he thought it a shame she was but a simple servant to the king. He found that while she was standing there he couldn't keep his eyes on Zelda any longer. The power hungry look in his eyes seemed to always be devouring anything he set his gaze upon, and Zelda might have felt her skin crawl as he gazed at her like some trophy waiting to be passed along to him but for the slave his gaze softened slightly. Her haunting appearance was attractive and alluring, and listening to the king he simply nodded his head. “Very well, take care of these ladies Vera.” He gestured towards the knight and the other woman. He imagined there were more of these Sheikah he had learned about from his mentor. Dangerous fellows that lurked in the shadows and functioned as something of a royal guard to the crown. That knight looked similar to the Sheikah though, almost as if she had a similar racial background but she appeared to be a regular Hylian in all regards outside of her unique eye color. The Gerudo woman stepped aside, waiting to be escorted along with the other two women out of there back to her home. Urbosa didn't like them sending Hylians to the Gerudo town, but she supposed that women were welcome in their kingdom as something of a safe haven yet she couldn't shake her trepidation towards the two of them. When she looked towards Colette, she saw the woman staring back at her with those eerie red eyes of hers seeming to almost glow in the low lighting. The champion stared back, gritting her teeth behind closed lips she steeled her resolve. Perhaps sending Vera back wasn't in their best interest, perhaps she should return to their home? It crossed her mind that it would be more dangerous for her king to remain here without her, but she worried for her people. The last thing she needed was for that harlequin to go to their home and poison the water which they drank from. Stepping away from their little entourage, she stepped close to the Gerudo woman who waited for an escort. “Do not let your eyes off of those women. If you suspect anything suspicious from the two of them, do what you must, keep our sisters safe.” She whispered quietly to the woman who gave her a solemn nod of her head. Clearly this was no laughing matter if Urbosa was spooked like this, and she would stake her life on protecting her people. “Let's be on with it then.” Ganondorf announced, awaiting the girl to take them away. He was a man of little patience, and soon enough they were being escorted out of the room into the large corridors of the castle. The enormous winding ramp laden with dark red carpets, paintings of prior kings and the royal family, large windows looking out onto the rooftops and out over the city beneath the castle. It was an impressive vista to behold, but Ganon's attention was swept away with this Arkaeni woman. “You do not bow to your king, and they say you are strong when you look similar to the simple Hylians around you.” He laughed to himself. Ganon had an eye for the mysterious and she fit the bill. He stepped in line with her, looking down at the white haired handmaiden. “Arkaeni is it? Quite an interesting one you are. Why do you serve the king?” They were barely out of earshot of the king walking the corridor, Ganondorf followed by Urbosa and their other Gerudo in their little vanguard. His question posed was because of her body language and how the king treated her. That wasn't the behavior of a man and his retainer, it was that of a master and slave. Now she didn't seem like the kind of woman who would be just anyone's slave. Colette had left the audience chamber, just before Ganondorf himself had gone. Her pale features were lit up with excitement, an unusual appearance for the woman. The dark haired knight was indeed one of the best warriors among all of the Hylians, and though she might have seemed a little unassuming at first, she became like a tyrant on the field of battle. It was where she felt truly alive, outside of battle she felt like a shade simply moving a body to make her way to the next conflict. Some referred to her as something of a valkyrie, fighting alongside Johan she waded through men and monster slaying everything in her path, she was as a goddess of war. The young knight got to her room, almost expecting the Sheikah to have followed her here. There was no way she was carrying her armor with her all the way to the Gerudo desert. In that heat, she imagined the metal plates would sear her skin if she wore it there. There was no fun in being cooked by the weather after all. In her room, the young woman got changed. She pulled on a black tank top and a white dress to wear on top of that, pulling on a pair of matching black slightly sheer hose and her long thigh high black leather boots, thick enough to weather the elements with a slight heel on it. Pulling on a pair of black gloves, and finishing her look with her signature jacket; only covering her upper body slightly, it was a thick leather black jacket that bore the emblem of the Sheikah upon the left shoulder but in white and red. There was white fur trim upon the collar of the jacket and raven feathers around the sleeves. Tying a red sash around her waist so that she might have something to carry her weapons with, she snatched the black sheathed blade off the wall and slipped it into her sash on her back. As she left her room she headed back down towards where she suspected they would deploy a carriage out to the desert. “Sheikah, are you here?” She called out to the woman she had yet to meet. Colette didn't usually socialize with others outside of the king. The young woman was rather self-centered in that regard, but she was a bit curious about this woman she was paired with. The idea of getting to know her crossed her mind, and she might actually make herself a friend if the shade walker actually revealed herself.

While Gerudo King had been busy admiring the small Hylian Princess, no doubt imaging the many ways he would torment her when she was lawfully his, The Red Wizard had eyes for someone else in his astute silence. Stoic as ever the Labrynnan was a scholar of sorts but also a loyal tactician and as a result he had been analysing every important body in this room for unspoken information and truths. His eyes had been upon the King who had yet to look upon him, a gesture that Agahnim considered to be a smart one. Johan was clearly a man secrets and he knew how to keep them, as the eyes could tell so much about a person just in the way they glistened in the light. In fact Johan as a whole seemed strangely lifeless as he sat upon his throne, barely moving during this awkward congregation of nations. Never standing. Breathing slowly. The Red Wizard wondered if the great Hyrule King was injured or ill in some manner and yet sickness nor pain quite matched up to the way he would describe the Hyrule King. He almost seemed hollow. Like the vacated skin of a spider, while it looked just as real and alarming as it hung in the web, upon closer inspection it became clear that there was no presence of life. But what was left could still disturb the mind. Agahnim could see that something had happened to this Hyrule King in his past. And whatever it was had sucked the soul out of his body, where only his shambling resemblance remained. Perhaps it was the death of his wife who as far as he was informed died under bizarre circumstances. The sort of circumstances that no one wanted to talk about. But it was clear that he would learn nothing from the Hyrule King today...but that was not to say the same of Urbosa.

She was a striking beauty. Powerful even and proud to be a Gerudo. She was a decorated and intimidating warrior...she even possessed the kiss of magic. Something that ran rarely through a Gerudo’s blood naturally. But she wasn’t well at hiding her feelings. The Red Wizard didn’t know Urbosa well, as she remained either here in Hyrule or inside the walls of Gerudo Town, a place that he was not able to set foot. No, Agahnim was one of Ganondorf’s outside sources among a rabble of other equally unpleasant individuals that Ganondorf found usefulness in. In reality the band of men were prisoners, lured from all corners of the regions, their primary purpose was to provide children to the Gerudo who did not wish to find husbands and wed out of love. Instead they required surrogate fathers to sire their children, but only the healthiest warriors were given the opportunity. The Gerudo required their children to be strong if they wished them to survive the desert so naturally the strength and skill of their fathers was a most high priority. And for these men such a life was perfect for them, so long as they serve Lord Ganondorf adequately then they were provided for in every way. But while Agahnim lacked more so than the rest in the ways of combat he possessed a rare intelligence and affinity towards magic that made up for his shortcomings. While by no means an unattractive man or a whelp of one he was quite a bit older in his life, closer in age to Johan himself. Ganondorf had been just a babe when he was a young man after all but he didn’t know the Gerudo King until he was a teenager. Still the Red Wizard could carry the weight of ten men...he was just a little sluggish lately. And it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go back to, he had willingly left with the Gerudo when they came to Labrynna for a reason after all, so naturally he had to stay on his toes despite his aging bones.

But there was always something about Urbosa, like him, that was different from the rest. She retained a loyalty to her people so strongly that sometimes he wondered if she truly was an ally to her king or a colorful insurgent of Johan’s. Often he was suspect of the redhead’s true loyalty when she chose to serve two kings that to this day did not see eye to eye. But nevermind his trifling, Ganondorf would not hear of Agahnim’s concerns of Urbosa - just as he would not hear of the ones surrounding his sister Riju. The Gerudo King might have been a tyrannical, a higher than thou beast on any given day...but in the end he was still a man of his people. And his people could do no wrong. Yet perhaps there was hope for Urbosa as Agahnim watched her closely, sensing her discomfort in the idea of a Hylian soldier and assassin entering into the Gerudo region unchecked. In this situation Agahnim was inclined to side with her fears, as he didn’t enjoy the idea of leaving their Gerudo outmatched by two to one. If there was anything to take away from this assembly it would have been more distrust. After all… great King’s didn’t just give away their daughters to barbarian men without an intention. And it was that intent that eluded the Red Wizard just yet. And quietly the Red Wizard turned his attention towards the twinge of an accent that he was unfamiliar with, finding the white haired display of something one might have read about in an old mythos. And just as Ganondorf was taken so too was Agahnim, but much less obviously so. But while the Gerudo King reeked of intrigue for this pale haired creature Agahnim felt something much different. When he looked upon her...her beauty was compelling and exotic...and it reminded him a monster from Labrynna that bore similar beauty yet inhibited pure unadulterated ferocity. Hunters were drawn to pursue this monster for its coat yet what they failed to realize was it was such a coat that lured the beasts prey right to it. Just as deep sea fish tantalized with its luminous tendril in the dark. But perhaps the greatest similarity was the blackness of their eyes, so very deep and dark without a hint of humanity inside of them. But he also noticed that this girl, though she was clearly of Zelda’s age of eighteen or around there, looked drained beyond her years and it showed in the darkness under her eyes and slightly weakened lean in her posture.

But the slave girl had said nothing more after being hurried along by Ganondorf and out of the entire rabble she and the Sheikah who had accompanied her seemed the least fearful of the hulking desert king, despite the fact that he could have crushed them easily with only one hand. And while the Sheikah retained a friendliness that extended to the small suggestive smile she gave to the Gerudo congregation as she followed the Knight out. The handmaiden was as stone faced as the King she served and she remained so as she walked the three of them out of the audience chamber with her skirt bundled up into her hands, like a properly lady. In fact there seem to be little difference between her and and the Hyrule King, suggesting that the two were either extremely close or extremely hateful of one another...perhaps both. But the Gerudo King went unanswered for longer then he probably would have liked while the slave mulled over the avalanche of inquiries from the red haired man. And slowly Ark looked past her shoulder to find Urbosa at her back with a look that spoke enough for itself. Clearly the maid wasn’t accustomed to an attempt to conversate and the look she had for Urbosa was silently asking the woman if her King was always this nosy or if he was just that excited to be here. And looking back she tilted her head to sideways up to the Gerudo King, perhaps the only man in this castle that she honestly had to crane her head upwards to spy upon. He truly was quite the magnificent beast even up close. But also deadly and wild.

“Begging your pardon, Sire … my King has been dead for eleven years.” The Lorulean replied gracefully, “My duties are to the Princess, since I was a child. However...the King enjoys to present his toys whenever possible, it is not appropriate to bow in such instances.” She added, finding her feet as she ascended the stairs that wound upwards into the guest tower at the east end of the castle. “Where do you hail from, girl? Your accent is unknown to me.” The Red Wizard piped up with the rasp of his voice, bringing the white haired Interloper to turn towards him as she came to a stop at the threshold of the stairs. “Nowhere known to you, Sire.” She replied quickly, a rehearsed answer at best.

“Try me.” Agahnim rebuffed, glancing upon Urbosa as he tucked his hands to the small of his back. And for another long moment the girl was silent, picking apart his red robes and hidden face with those black eyes. “It no longer exists. A primal destruction tore the earth in two and killed many of it’s people, the rest fled. There’s nothing left.” Again she paused, looking again over the Red Wizard and the slight blue tint in his skin, “As a Labrynnan you understand? Your country is in quite the similar state is it not?” Agahnim was silent, stunned almost, embarrassed even and painfully reminded of the land in which he was birthed and the very similar reasons as to why he chose to leave it, expertly extracted by a mere slave. And that was all that the Handmaiden needed to hear as she turned on her heels and carried on down the hallway.

“I trust your regular quarters will suffice Mistress Urbosa?” Ark asked, casually indicating to the upcoming door and came to a stop before it, “Or will you remain beside your King?” She added as she scooped her white tendrils to cascade over one of her shoulders to cool her neck and glanced up at the giant man before her once again.

Although the tensions were still high amongst the rabble, the brunette Sheikah was as complacent as ever about the entire ordeal. She was of the Royal Guard, a step above the Kingsguard, and as such she could not afford to let her feelings run away with her head. Of course she felt it quite unnecessary to welcome the Gerudo King in the manner in which he had, all Johan needed to do was provide him with trade routes and amnesty and send him back to his barren kingdom without a second thought. That would have made everyone involved more than satisfied with the outcome...but Johan always had to be quite extra when faced with a potential threat. Just like the Olde King...Johan was just a competitive and just like his father he thought that the more assertion he had over others, and the more literal trophies he possessed that it somehow made him stronger in the end. And he enjoyed to show off his strength. But aside from his skills as a warrior ...he wasn’t a particularly memorable leader. Compared to many other Hyrule Kings, Johan had still accomplished very little in his life other then keeping the country from tearing each other apart. Perhaps in the end that was what ate away at the Hylian King so terribly...the idea that when he was gone that he would be forgotten. That was the burden he must have shouldered...being born into an era of peace. But despite what she might have thought or didn’t about the King, she was his servant just as her twin and just as Impa. The Sheikah were bound to the Hyrulean Royal Family by generations of service and it was still no different today as it was 1000 years ago when the Throne of Hyrule and the Sheikah averted the Great Calamity before it could swallow the land whole. It was their only purpose to protect the Royal Family with unfaltering integrity. And just as her fair haired friend once said ‘act with a clear mind no matter the graveness of the situation’. Truth be told Kala hadn’t quite understood the full meaning behind such an analogy but she had taken from it what she needed to.

So naturally the Sheikah was of a level head at all times and it aided her in taking the appropriate actions where others would have reacted haphazardly. And she imagined many would react once word spread of the Gerudo King’s presence in the kingdom and his betrothal to the Princess. The people would never accept him as their King with the kind of reputation he drug around with him. But that was not her place to be, her place was where the King told her to be. And if he was to send her away into the sweltering heat of the desert to ensure the survival of the Gerudo then so be it. But this knight on the other hand was a different question entirely. She was not familiar with Colette, no one was really, and that left the Sheikah sceptical of the woman as a person, as none could deny her status as a knight. She was a pretty girl to be certain...but Kala always sensed she harbored some deep longing for the Hyrule King and perhaps a small resentment that he never seemed to notice it. And quickly the Sheikah was coming to realize that, while she would have to watch and report of the actions and movements of the Gerudo, that she too would also have to keep a close eye on her partner’s as well. After all...it wouldn’t be ideal for Johan’s own man to act in a way that could compromise his arrangement with the Gerudo King. And Johan never did anything without a plan for why… and if he truly was to send a Sheikah so far away it was to act as a glorified babysitter. Perhaps Johan didn’t trust his knight as much as she believed that he did, and if Johan distrusted her then so too did the Sheikah. But it didn’t mean that she couldn’t have fun with the knight during their voyage, for better or worse.

“Whatever will you do in the desert aside from catch an itching disease?” A deep dulcet voice asked as Kala rounded the corner, separating from the knight whom she did not need to escort any further from the audience chamber, where she found her twin with his shoulder pressed into the wall as he leaned casually, waiting just as she was for any sort of commotion to react to. He was a tall and lean cut of a beast, but far too pretty then what was acceptable for a man - though he tried in vain to appear more rugged by growing a disappointing beard and tying his hair back in manly fashions. But it did little when his face bore soft features. And like herself he bore the same ethereal blue eyes and lightly brown skin. It was clear that the two of them had shared a womb as they were complete carbon copies of one another only differing in gender. And more unfortunately for the both of them...were there any commotion it would probably be caused by the one woman left alone with the Gerudo tribe, and it would be over by the time the two of them would have even heard about it much less travelled towards it. There was just no fun to be had today it would seem. “Oh...funny.” Kala hissed as she pushed her hand into her brother's face and he turned from it with a growl. “I suppose you would know all about itching diseases, how many have you contracted?” The Sheikah added viciously as she wrapped her arm around her brother’s and he coiled his to lock hers into the niche of his elbow. “A lot…” He replied with surprising honesty and shrugged, it was the truth after all and he really couldn't deny it. And Kala smiled in victory as her brother paused, leering upon the the white haired handmaiden as she lead the the Gerudo’s from the chamber in the opposite direction of the hallway in which he stood with his sister. He found the Gerudo King at her heels and leered at the man with obvious disapproval. “Better mind his hands…” Nikoal grumbled beneath his breath as Kala tugged his arm and he turned away to continue to walk with her down the hallway.

“She can handle him.” Kala replied quietly, “Johan wouldn’t put her in danger.” But her brother’s silence told her that he hardly agreed with her. “You put too much faith in him.” Niko replied simply, but he knew that his twin was indeed right. Ark might have appeared demur and weak but he had personally been on the receiving end of the strength that she could summon, he had also watched her pick up a heavily armored man before, Johan was acutely aware of this. “And what about the Knight?” He carried on as they strode towards the kitchens to inform Marta to begin collecting supplies for the caravan. “I don’t know.” Kala replied apprehensively, “I will watch her closely.”

Eventually the Knight in question found her way into kitchens where the male Sheikah was busy hauling crates for the older cook who stood fussing over his every move. “Yes darling?” Kala replied, almost seeming to appear behind the knight as she adjusted the cloak over her leather suit and noticed that the knight had shed her armor for a more travel worthy attire.

“I am called Kala.” She added as she tucked her long lustrous hair down beneath the cloaks long train.

Urbosa was in a bit of a daze, and though she was on edge, it was hard holding her jubilation. The truth was that she was happy that Johan had decided to accept them, her liege and her people. Perhaps the others saw this as a foolish decision of the Hylian king to let them so close, but she was proud of him for it. She knew that he had many different ulterior motives but for the time being and so long as they step out of line they were set to be unified with Hyrule once and for all. It made her happier than she cared to actually admit. However, she knew the leader of her people and she knew that he had a penchant for stirring up trouble. The most she could hope for was to attempt to keep him in line, and hope that her people remained safe with those people who would set out back to their home in the desert. Hope was something that was so sparse these days, and now it was flooding in to her. It left her feeling out of focus and happy for once. The Gerudo Champion also could see that she wasn't the only one in lifted spirits. The king of her people was just a few feet away from her, towering over that young servant girl. She had met Arkaeni on several occasions on visits to the castle and to meet with the princess, but they standoffish nature of the servant didn't allow them to become very close. Not that she minded, she knew that the girl wasn't any ordinary Hylian. She didn't pry into her private affairs or question why she had that curious collar around her neck. Certainly she had some kind of strange relationship with the king of Hyrule, and she didn't want to press her luck any further than necessary these days with tensions high between the Hylians and Gerudo. Her king was clearly infatuated with the young lady, perhaps because she was such an exotic looking thing. Ark didn't look like any of the others here, whether they were Sheikah or Hylian in nature, she was different. Ganon had a tendency to be drawn to the abnormal, and when her golden eyes met Ark's, she could see the look of exasperation on her face. She met the servant's gaze with a polite smile and shrugged her shoulders towards the young woman. Ganondorf usually didn't pry so actively into the lives of anyone he deemed lesser than himself. She knew very well that he despised Hylians especially, their odd deformed bodies, and strange tendencies were enough for him to hold an ever present scowl when he was around them. This was a different side to the king that was more commonly seen at their home town. She loved to see him happy, and usually that meant whilst he was sparring with the warriors of their dessert town. He was always a cut above, but in those situations he showed that he wasn't just a meat head who didn't care about his people. He took the time to teach, and more importantly, to learn from his people. The Gerudo King looked down at Ark when she tilted her head up to gaze up at him. It was something he was accustomed to with all of his subjects, and she certainly seemed more like a Gerudo woman than any Hylian he had ever met. With the words leaving her lips, a smile slowly graced his. The look in her eyes was defiant despite that strange collar on her neck. He supposed he could rip that thing off of her easily enough, but he had no idea what it was only that he felt some strange magic nestled within. “Then your duty is to me as well.” He reasoned, if she was the princess's handmaiden then she would attend to Zelda's husband as well he imagined. However, before he could inquire about her fallen king, he glanced back to the red wizard who was part of their little entourage. He realized just how quick the curious girl was when she looked upon the man. She was astute, and aware it would seem, even knowledgeable to a degree ordinary women in her position wouldn't have been of the world. To most, they cared little about the happenings outside of Hyrule after all. Urbosa stepped to the door, shaking her head side to side. “This is where I take my leave, my king. I trust you to enjoy your stay here, and not get into trouble.” She warned Ganondorf as she smirked his way. The man grinned back at her and shook his head. “I will be on my best behavior, Lady Urbosa.” He assured, a little glint in his golden eyes showing otherwise. It wasn't that Ganondorf wished to go against any of Urbosa's wishes but he did feel the need to disrupt whatever plans Johan had for the lot of them. Leaving Urbosa to her room, allowing the three of them to travel further down the corridor to the next set of rooms for important guests, Ganondorf stopped. He placed his hand on the wall blocking Ark from continuing down the hall, and forcing her to look up at him again. The large man brought his hand up to her chin, and gently set his thumb upon it to tip her head up to look at him as he gazed deep into her eyes. His golden eyes seemed to be ablaze with fiery passion and interest. It wasn't common that the Gerudo King took such an interest in someone but he was having trouble reeling himself back with this girl. “Tell me, would you devote yourself to a new king if one worthy of such a beauty appeared before you?” He asked, clearly proposing some kind of alliance with her. – The young woman stretched her thin arms high above herself, clasping her hands together as she thrust her chest upwards and stretched her body. “Ahh~” She breathed, relief coming as she felt a slightly sore joint pop in her arm. Having spent so long standing around in her Hylian armor, it left her feeling little aches and pains all over her body that she didn't much care for. Colette preferred her own style, and she hated the terrible traditions of the Hylians. That armor was probably the reason so many of the knights had back problems! She reasoned in her head, strolling into the kitchen where she noticed the male Sheikah lugging around crates for the workers there. She was ready to approach him when she heard the voice of the female just behind her. Temporarily ignoring the fact that her skin was crawling and she was momentarily shocked by the woman's ability to sneak up on her, she turned to look at her and then back to the man she was looking at before. For a moment she thought that perhaps she was confused, that back at the throne room she had mistaken the quiet guard for a woman when she was in fact a man now that she had a better look at him, but was wrong again when she actually showed up. Yet the two of them looked so similar, she was a bit surprised to see that. “My name's Colette, I thought we-” She paused, making a cute face showing her confusion. Then pointing to the other man in the kitchen. “I didn't know there were two of you!” She announced, pointing at the man in question. Her dark brow furrowed, not in confusion but in exasperation. Perhaps her little outburst wasn't warranted, but some of the staff laughed among themselves. The thought occurred to her even, that if they needed another to join them on their visit to the desert they could take this man who looked like Kala's twin. With a little work, she could have him looking like a girl to sneak in there without a problem. Then again, that might be difficult with the Gerudo woman accompanying them already. “Excuse me, well, I'm ready to go. I imagine that Gerudo is meeting us at the stables and then we are setting off. I'm looking forward to learning more about you, Miss Kala.” She said, a bit excited as she faced the brunette with a smile on her face. Colette seemed eager to work with the Sheikah, “But I don't think we should leave the poor thing waiting.” She suggested, grabbing Kala by the hand and walking at a brisk pace back out of the room. Colette was excited to work with Kala, the Sheikah was a beautiful thing. Though she might have thought her brother was perhaps more-so, she couldn't question the immaculate womanly outline that a creature like Kala possessed. It was a shame that all of those rags covered her body up, but she supposed that was just more old fashioned Hylian tradition.

Silence pervaded as the Interloper gazed up at the would be Hyrulean King with the smallest of frowns as he reasoned that if she would serve Zelda then so to should she serve him. With all intents and purposes he wasn’t entirely wrong but he wasn’t entirely right either. He truly was a very young beast and she doubted that he had ever experienced the amount of turmoil required to be a suitable ruler. He had been born into his throne, worshipped for his gender, as rare as a black diamond was amongst his people. And while he had a large set of armor to fill to prove his worth of the Hylian Throne...he also had a name that disgraced when it was spoken. The Gerudo were only known for a few things, their penchant as a female society and their violent means of survival, and the king. One king in particular, whom Ganondorf also shared a name. The Ganondorf of old was often described as a lustful man, bend on power and prideful to a fault. A young man with evil eyes. Who tricked his way into the King’s good graces and betrayed the Royal Family resulting in the Princess Zelda of the time abandoning her country. That Ganondorf had taken something from Hyrule, something sacred and with it he appointed himself king...and slowly the land withered under his reign. But a hero in green, just a boy when Hyrule fell, returned as a prophecy stated he would to fight the evil king. And with the displaced Princess Zelda’s help they raged war upon the false king and it was said that in his struggle for victory, Ganondorf was consumed by the power he had stolen from the Gods. He became a beast of fury and fire. An undying beast that would return to plague Hyrule again and again and again… it was such a beast that they now called Calamity Ganon.

Ark felt a strange familiarity in the Gerudo King and the undying beast...both Gerudo Kings. Both in the graces of the Hyrule King. Her father had always said strange things about time...and how it could find itself in a paradoxical loop. Different times and different souls...yet the same outcome and the same gauntlet played out. He also said in time that she would learn to discern the loops, and if she felt the need to, set actions in place to derail them...just as he himself claimed to do. But she never truly understood what he meant...by anything really…but perhaps the crazy old man had been right. Perhaps this was such a scene...but she was not so sure how it would end, nor so bold as to claim the divinity to know these things. “Of course, Sire.” She replied as she opened the chamber door for Urbosa to take her leave of the three of them and she watched the Gerudo woman quietly as she reminded her King to behave himself...something that he clearly had little intention to do and watched her image disappear behind a closing door. Strangely she felt a little lost without the Champion’s presence, left alone with two large barbarian men...it sat a little sourly in her stomach. But ignoring the feeling she carried on...until the Gerudo King took it upon himself to stop her.

The appearance of his hand as it crossed her path to find the wall startled her...but instead of withering like any flower would have, and not even been blamed for it, she felt her chest puff just slightly as she held her breath and her ground. She might have glared at him in her clear discomfort at his closeness but it quickly morphed into a widen eyed stare that settled first on Agahnim, who looked about as stunned himself, before settling onto the Gerudo King has his unexpected gentleness cupped her chin into his hand. But it wasn’t so much the unexpected touch that startled her the most, it was the sudden tingle that radiated from her chin and across her skin down the length of her neck...where the pain and the pressure began to set it as her vision faded into blackness.

Her vision returned darkened as the tightness around her neck took the breath from her lungs and her bloodied fingers dug into sharp, black scales as she hung in the grasp of a large and sharply clawed hand. A beast stood below her, the shape of a massive man - larger than Ganondorf even with grey skin and black scales upon his body. He had a large, rounded nose and a mane of hair that flicked like fire that seemed to erupt from a fissure that ran the length of his back. His eyes were like heated steel, rising and darkening in brightness with the flicker of his hair. Black veins seemed to torrent across his body with the beat of his heart and he was mostly nude, bearing every shape of muscle that his body possessed out in the open save for an ornate cloth around his waist for some semblance of decency. The Demon King leered up at her as she struggled in his vice like grip, desperate for any second of air.

Where is it, Sky Child!?

The Demon King roared, baring shark like teeth at her as his claws dug deeper into her throat and she gurgled and glared back upon him in certain defiance, it wasn’t as if she could have answered him even if she wanted to. But she, despite her predicament, had no intention of telling him what he wanted to know. She knew where the item was that he sought. But he didn’t and that was the most important part of it all, that he never found out where it was. He could never possess it...or else the world would be certainly doomed. And when her silence answered for her the Demon King’s scowl seemed to fade into a more confused rage than anything else.

You would die for a Goddess that abandoned you…? He asked, much more quietly and she felt her lips curl into a semblance of a smirk, which only answered the Demon King more. So be it then. He hissed, the pressure upon her neck worsening as her bones began to shift and pop to accommodate, death certainly was near as her chest screamed for air and her body twitched in the familiar fashion of any lack efforts at survival.

My Lord, I beg you, stay your hand. Another voice rang out, much lower and softer in tone - almost comfortingly soft as a gangly man appeared from some far reach of the chamber where she couldn’t see. He was terribly thin and long limbed with a blue hue to his skin and long hair as black as coals. His eyes were a shining yellow paired with thin black lips and six horns protruding from his forehead where a single red jewel had been depressed into his skull. He too was mostly nude save for the girdle he wore over his waist that led into a similar train of cloth to cover his legs and a cape wore only over one of his shoulders. The Demon King merely growled at him in response but the blue man persisted as he drew close to the Demon King’s back. “My King. Does this Sky Child not look familiar to you? Does she not look like another who served you a hundred years ago...does she not look exactly like him?” The Blue Man continued and the Demon King’s eyes almost glittered with a sudden familiarity as his grip loosened enough so that she could breath, yet he still bore a look of confusion as if he didn’t quite understand nor remember what this blue demon spoke about. “Could it be…?” The Demon King mused, dropping the girl suddenly and she felt her feet and knees collide into the stone floor and her entire body collapse on itself as she gasped and struggled to fill her lungs with much needed oxygen. She felt an immense pain in her entire body, only worsened by the sudden fall from such a height, and she could see the cuts and bruises all over her legs and arms - like she’d tumbled down a cliff at some point before or suffered a great amount of abuse.

And when she looked up upon the powerful demon her body shook as she held her bleeding neck, a woodland creature cornered by a predator and the Demon King almost seemed to smile. “Seem’s my old lost friend continues to serve me even from his prison...he’s given me quite a gift.” She hadn’t the vaguest idea what he was talking about and without another thought she leapt from the ground in an attempt to run from him but he was far too fast and his paw collided with her skull, ripping her hair into his grasp as he yanked her back to him and she shrieked in both fear and pain.

“Enough of this blubbering, Sky Child...you are now mine.”

Ganondorf’s voice drew her back from these things that she saw and refocused upon him, having recoiled back into the wall of the hallway and a moment of confusion spread over her as the familiar pain of a headache swiftly began to take over anything else that she could possibly think about. The collar around her neck still drew tight as her veins had swollen and darkened a bit in response, her body trembled as fear still ran through her system from what she had seen that had seemed so real...and yet here she was still where she had always been. Safe in the castle and in the light of the sun. But it didn’t explain as to where she had gone or what she had seen and felt. But the two men seemed to not have noticed, as it must have happened quickly. And with a twitch of her head she blinked a few times up at the Gerudo King, drawing her fingers up to rest upon his gauntlet - nails clicking against the metal and guiding his hand downward so that he was no longer touching her. “You’ve scared the help near to death, my friend.” Agahnim glowered, crossing his arms over his chest, clearly as upset with Ganondorf as she also was.

“There is no such King here.” Ark responded poisonously, side stepping him with a quickness that only a servant whom had been put into these sorts of awkward situations one too many times could muster. She guided the two the rest of the way to their chambers in silence but the aura of pain was evident upon her face as she sneered at the rays of the sun that caught into her eyes and squinted at the world around her. “Wizard.” She announced, opening a door for Agahnim at the end of the hallway just before the pair of double doors that obviously ended the hallway into the most important chamber where Ganondorf would stay and when Agahnim had entered into his room, with one last look at Ganondorf to behave himself, the servant slide open one side of the double doors and leaned her body against it while she waiting for the King to cross the threshold. “Sav'orq, Sire.” She reasoned, slowly but surely losing whatever polite nerves she had left.

Collette’s appearance into the kitchen did not go unnoticed by either of the Sheikah nor the staff that frantically puttered around trying to do multiple things at once while still keeping dinner on time. One such individual, whom was called Marta, could barely contain her laughter at the Hylian Knight’s upset. Marta in reality wasn’t all too familiar with most of the knights and soldiers but she did know that she had rightly never seen this particular one before and was a little confused when she wandered into her kitchen as if she owned it. But it was a quick look from Nikoal that silenced her at first as the brown haired man paused in order to find the source of the noise and whom his sister was talking to. And for a good uncomfortable moment he fixed Collette with an intense manly stare. “Certainly a Knight of such high esteem is aware as to whom protects the King?” He replied smoothly, hauling a crate unto his shoulder and carrying it away at a somewhat slow but steady pace.

“Ignore him. My twin is quite obscenely rude.” Kala interjected, seeking to comfort the Knight before the situation escalated any further than it already had. But the confusion in the knight did little to raise Kala’s spirits, after all someone who stood in such an esteemed position should have been privy to all those close to the Royal Family, including the Sheikah that resided the castle as well as those who passed through. The fact that she didn’t know told Kala a lot about the girl and that she might not have been the brightest nor the best suited for the mission at hand. Then again...perhaps that was Johan’s intention all along. Maybe he was testing this girl. Or maybe he was sending her away in hopes she would fail. Maybe...he was teaching her a hard lesson, something he was notorious for with Princess Zelda and Arkaeni. Or perhaps the girl was just tired, perhaps it was a simple and honest mistake. It wouldn’t have been the first time someone had mixed up the twins.

“Perhaps not…” Kala stated, thinking as the knight took hold of her hand, breaking the Sheikah’s train of thought as her fingers coiled around Collette’s - surprise on her face. It wasn’t everyday someone just took her by the hand...not a woman anyway. And for a moment Kala was confused about this girl who seemed so astute in her armor yet so child-like outside of it. “The Gerudo aren’t accustomed to waiting...clearly…” She continued with a confused tone, walking with the knight through the kitchen and out into the cricket filled summer night of Hyrule. Niko was already a ways down the terrain that curved down into the stables with several others also hauling crates and baskets of all manner of things. It mostly looked as if the Hylian’s were simply packing up whatever extra they had to spare, but none of it was organized beyond a certain point. The sad reality of a people who didn’t understand whom the Gerudo were and what their diets consisted off. She supposed that too was why Johan had ordered the handmaiden to come aid their efforts...but it would seem that the Gerudo were holding her up. “It will be some time before the caravan is situated…” Kala added as the women drew closer to the stables and her eyes found the magnificent steed that must have belonged to the Gerudo King. It was a giant stallion with a shining black coat and a fiery man who snorted in his stable in some clear agitation towards all the racket around him. “Have you ever seen a Gerudo Stallion?” The Sheikah asked, drawing the knight towards the horse cautiously, “They’re not the fasted beasts but they are powerful. One strike of his hooves can shatter Hylian bones in a second...but don’t touch him. They bite...only his master must handle him.”

With his hand gently set upon the handmaiden's chin, he couldn't help but look down just past her eyes to notice that choker around her neck. His golden gaze scrutinized the thing, and even without touching such an object he knew it was magicked. Such things were rare among Hylians, even somewhat rare among the Gerudo. Someone gifted with magic naturally was uncommon in the first place as most wizards or warlocks utilized magical items like rods or staves to channel elemental energy and cast spells. He knew a lot about magic himself, but he was far from a scholar by any means. His learning had come from the red wizard himself for the most part, but Ganondorf was capable of some dark powers he didn't fully understand the extent of either. Naturally he wanted to learn more, about himself, and about magic generally speaking but nestled in the desert that was simply impossible. When he held her, he heard a voice in his head. Even as his eyes traveled the length of her figure. His wandering eyes returned to hers noticing the dazed look set upon her face. “You are now mine.” The words echoed into his head, like the chime of an old-fashioned clock. It sounded like his own voice but yet somehow different. It trailed off like it was missing something too, and he wondered what that was or where it had come from. It was almost like it was speaking not to him, but to the woman in front of him and he struggled to fully comprehend it. He was momentarily distracted as Ark came out of her slight stupor by Agahnim who could see how visibly frightened the girl was by her body language and how she shrank back against the wall. Somehow though, Ganondorf knew that wasn't because of him...at least not directly. She saw something else, but what that was he couldn't say. His eyes cut towards his companion, slowly taking his hand off of her as she raised her hand to touch his gauntlet. “We shall see.” He uttered with something of finality in his voice. Ganondorf felt like that was a challenge, and he would rise to the occasion. His eyes moved from her and he stepped back away from her so he wasn't invading her personal space any longer. He could be quite impulsive at times, but with what the king agreed to already he felt like he could get away with murder in the kingdom if he really wanted to. As he reached his room, he didn't make any motion to his companion who seemed worried that he might get himself in more trouble without him. Sometimes he felt like his companions were only around to reel him back in if he did something questionable or obscene. When they got to his room, he started to pass the handmaiden when she spoke in the Gerudo tongue. His eyes shot down towards hers and he stared at her for a moment. For a moment he pondered just how well traveled and knowledgeable she was. Was she just a servant as a ruse? Was she one of the king's Sheikah servants this whole time but masqueraded as some kind of slave? No, it was plain to reason that Urbosa likely taught her a thing or two about greetings and partings in the Gerudo dialect. It was pleasant despite whatever annoyance she had with him. He liked the way her accent sounded speaking such words. “Sarqso.” He responded, briskly stepping past her into the open room. Ganondorf wasn't going to linger with her any longer. The Gerudo king imagined she had other things to do as a servant after all, and he was ready to get better acquainted with his stay in the castle. As he stepped in the room, he started to remove his armor. Starting with his gauntlets, he pried them off and set them upon a nearby table. The large golden bracers were impressive if not enormous. No Hylian man could wear such a thing, never mind trying to fit in his armor of all things. Following suit was his chestplate, setting the various small parts of his armor down next to his gauntlets and striding through the room to one of the large windows opposite the room. He gaze out over the kingdom, looking out over the rolling hills and mountains in the horizon. – It was no mystery that Colette was someone who was a bit strange to the residents and workers within the castle. She only moved to the castle recently, after being promoted rather quickly within the military she became one of the king's knights. Some knew who she was well from the rumors spread around about the female knight among Johan's men. Naturally she wasn't as up to speed as most of the soldiers in the kingdom when it came to castle etiquette but perhaps she was a well deserved breath of fresh air compared to some of the stuffy people around the castle. Still, despite how clueless and carefree she might have seemed there was no mistaking the sense of malice and danger that radiated off of Colette. Much like some people within the kingdom, she had an oppressive aura around her. That despite how cheery and pleasant she seemed, at the drop of a hat things could turn bad very quickly for everyone around her. When Kala commented about her twin she nodded her head quickly. “I'm no stranger to Sheikah, but not twins.” She commented with a quick wink towards Niko, a smile gracing her pale features. It was curious to think that both of them were Sheikah and that they were twins at that, but she thought that the two of them were pleasant nonetheless. She was happy to hear that some of the staff in the kitchen laughed at her, it made her feel good to know that her outburst had been endearing to some. The fact remained that she cared little about the kitchen truthfully, right now all of her interest was poured into Kala and their proposed journey. Out to the stables, she clasped Kala's hand in her own. Colette's skin was soft but slightly colder than ordinary Hylians, but she was far from ordinary that much was certain. At the stables, she noticed the Gerudo's mighty steed. It must have been the horse that man had rode here on, the large one claiming to be king. She looked up at the horse that was taller than both of them. It was impressive to say the least. “You know a lot about horses, don't you?” She asked, as she approached the steed. Her eerie red eyes peered up at the beast and it stared back. Her eyes lit up and she raised her hand towards its head and as she was told not to touch it because they bite she saw how it was practically growling at her. Her fingers danced near its snout, and she sneered up at it. Without touching it did it snap at her, its large teeth snapping together as she withdrew her hand quickly and let out a little laugh. “What a cutie, so aggressive, I'd love to take a ride on him.” She admitted, turning to look at Kala and walking down to where their small caravan awaited. Marta was still in the kitchen, and they weren't quite ready to leave. However, Vera, the Gerudo woman that had left the audience chamber was there. She looked a little distraught, waiting impatiently for the lot of them to get going. “Should we help get things loaded up onto the carriage?” She asked, a slight pensive look on her face. Colette was still waiting for the other handmaiden to get here to help get them ready to go. She wasn't going to leave before then since she half-expected something to tag along with her from the king. Johan wasn't the type to just let her leave without any sort of expectation or hidden agenda after all, Colette knew that well enough. – There was a loud knock on the door, followed quickly by the large wooden door swinging open. Inside the room was a mixture of objects, the most notable of which was the orb floating in the center of this chamber. Far underground the castle of Hyrule was the hidden chamber of the sorceress. The orb was suspended in the air above the ground, a dark purple mist pouring off of it down into a recepticle on the floor below it that looked to be partially full of dark purple almost black liquid that seemed to have been collected from the orb above it. Energy radiated off of the orb, its translucent glow casting a dark hue upon the entire chamber. Within the orb was what could only have been a condensed piece of Calamity Ganon. It looked like a small crystalline object, a collection of the goopy substance combined with various pieces of the perverse ancient creature combined and condensed into what it is now. It radiated with power, and it filled the room with dread. There were various objects all around the room, instruments utilized by scholars and wizards to study or develop their magic. It didn't look like any sort of living space, at least at first. Yet upon further inspection there were a few oddities tucked away in the enormous chamber here and there. Namely, a large armoire where various magical instruments were leaning against, a small bed nestled in the corner with a clutter of different clothes strewn out upon it, and a small table near the bed that had a cup of tea still steaming with heat on top of it. It was clear that someone did live here, but they were obsessed with their research by the look of all the massive tomes strewn throughout the room and the clear ominous orb of dark power that was the only real source of light in the chamber. “You know it's not good for you to remain down here all day.” Came the voice of the man who entered the room, raising his hand to pick up one of the candles off the wall. Bringing his other hand up, he pulled a match from the small base of the candle. Striking it upon the wall, he lit it and brought it up to the candle to spread some more natural light into the room. It also did well to illuminate his handsome features. For a Hylian, the man was quite tall and well built. Rare, certainly, but he might have had some mixture of Sheikah blood in him as well. With wide shoulders, a strong build, long shaggy black hair, and shimmering golden eyes, he was a striking man who bore some similarities to the king himself. His name was Volke, the executioner. He was the personal guard to the king, and what some might not know is that he is also the younger brother of the man. The light caught his topaz eyes well and illuminated his choice of garments, a plain loose fitting shirt that was unbuttoned most of the way displaying his masculine chest and the definition of his muscles. His legs were simply clad in a pair of dark brown combats, leading to his thick black leather boots. “You make me worry about you, hiding away down here by yourself, Cia. I'd love to see you in the sunlight for a change.” He said, stepping through the room looking for the sorceress.

The Darkwalker said nothing more to the Gerudo King after he bid his goodbye in the same tongue. It was charming to hear him speak in his own language, but she imagined she would hear very little of it where he not engaged in conversation with his brood. Then again, the Gerudo had a penchant to speak Hylian even amongst each other - perhaps they thought it easier to keep the language fresh by speaking it more than their birth language. Maybe they chose to speak it in the presence of Hylian’s out of some strange respect that the Hylian’s never showed to any other race. Either way the good byes of today were not the goodbyes of forever but as he left her sight she breathed in the sandy scent of sweat and masculinity that he left behind, she imagined the Gerudo would need a bath later on, but smell was oddly comforting if only for a moment but would have been considered repulsive to any one else. After she had safely tucked him into his space she slid the door closed quietly but she lingered for a moment, listening to the shuffling beyond. It was a shame that he was Zelda’s, the one of many a women who wouldn’t appreciate the Gerudo King for his raw power and skill. The handmaiden knew the Princess would demonize him, see him as nothing more than a rabid beast amongst the walls, she would never love any child then they might produce. A terrible fate…but for whom?

And slowly the Interloper wandered from the door, walking in a not so straight line as her hands cloaked over her face to hide her eyes from the light. The ache in her head lessened just slightly in the darkness, as it always did. She always did better in the darkness then out in the sun. And bringing her hands down the length of her face she watched to carefully avoid the blurry bodies of other servants and statuettes or whatever else had been laid around for one to trip over but she did not notice one figure in particular as she rounded down to the ending threshold of the stairs. Not until he was already upon her and as she fully rounded the corner he stood, leaning against the wall, in an imposing manner that only a King possessed. The noise that left her was sharp as she recoiled away from him once she recognized who he was and his figure came into focus. The Hyrule King, who occupied a space against the wall, as he peeled an apple with his grandfather's royal dagger. He looked at her with raised eyebrows as if he didn’t understand her fright. “Really….?” He questioned quietly as the handmaiden cupped her lower abdomen. “What do you want…?” She breathed against her racing heart, cringing against the pain which brought a notion of concern to the Hyrule King. “These headaches, I understand they grow more painful and frequent?” He questioned, sliding a thin slice of apple into his mouth, and left the wall to offer the rest of his apple to the girl as well as his arm to take. She coiling her arm around his but she did not answer and rejected the apple with a sneer of disgust.

“You can’t survive off meat alone.” The Hyrule King pressed, pushing the apple to her lips, and the Interloper begrudgingly took a bit of it, chewing with about as much animosity as a child forced to eat their peas. The sweetness of it was sickening. “I shall have Cia prepare you potions for them.” He added, reminding the Interloper of the she-devil that she also shared this castle with and growling in response to the idea of having anything to do with Johan’s witch. And for a moment the two of them simply walked, arm in arm, as Johan often did with Zelda as well. “What did the Gerudo King say?” Johan eventually asked, scanning the hallway for threats out of habit, despite seeing them everywhere. “He need’s a concubine, he was…” She trailed off, unable to find the polite words to say, “Did he hurt you?” Johan asked just as quickly but the girl just shook her head, “There would be no Gerudo King if he had.” She replied. Johan nodded knowingly but obviously withheld doubts that a little girl like her could do so much as a bruising to the Gerudo King. “Perhaps...Rhala would suit his needs…” He mused, as if he was honestly entertaining the idea but Ark could sense that it wasn’t Rhala he was really thinking about throwing to the wild beast, Rhala was the king’s favorite...he wouldn’t have subjected her to such torments. “He truly said nothing of import...not even to his Wizard? Urbosa?” Johan continued to press curiously, and the Interloper sighed.

“He is not so foolish, anything said will not be said for servants to hear it.” Johan merely rolled his eyes answering his own question. “You will see much of him my darling…” He continued, bringing Ark to his front as he touched his palms to her shoulders, “Anything strange about him...I would know it promptly. Understood?” For a moment Ark only stared at the Hylian King, “You would make a spy out of me? Would you make me his whore as well?” She asked, insulted. But the Hylian King only smirked, raking his fingers through her tangled hair, “You are whatever I ask you to be. And you will do as I command… be it his whore or my spy.” He stated with finality and without another word he left her into the crowd of his council as they huddled outside of their chamber, waiting to discuss more about this Gerudo King and whatever else they thought was important today. But the Hylian King did not leave without a look of daggers at his back as the Handmaiden dug her nails into the cloth of her dress.

“Get on with yourself.” The biggest guard warned, noticing the look she had for the King, and she quickly moved along - soon finding herself traipsing through the low hanging entrance into the kitchen.

“Marta.” Ark called as she moved the swinging kitchen door from her path with her hip while she fought the tangles of her hair up from her shoulders into an attempt of a ponytail. She like Princess Zelda and the other maidens were not permitted to cut it and while the Hylian's hair only grew to certain lengths and seemed to stop, Ark's had grown well past the point of acceptable in her opinion and she wished every day that she could just take the kitchen shears to it to so she could stop having to manhandle it every single night for some relief from the summer heat. Marta in question was a plump Hylian woman of eight children who liked to run rampant around the servant's quarters and get into all kinds of mischief. She had served in the castle kitchen for decades as far as she knew and she was both a stern yet homely woman who was kind. “Oh child… you look ghastly.” Marta replied, cleaning her hands with a well used washrag, “Ghastly?” Ark scoffed, shaking her head, “Tell that to the King, he seem’s well to upset me every opportunity he gets..” Marta unfortunately was not a woman of opinion and like so many night's she knew why this particular Handmaid always wandered into the kitchen. She was looking for scraps most nights but tonight she had other duties here. “Did you see him?” Marta asked as she turned to fill a plate with raw meats, “That Gerudo...did you see him?” Marta did enjoy a bit a drama. “I saw all of him.” Ark replied, taking the plate from the chubby woman who stared at her, waiting for more information. “He's handsome.” The Handmaid commented, picking intently at the meat, “And huge...as big as a Hinox.” “A Hinox!? No!” Marta exclaimed, looking almost insulted by the heaping trays of food that were still not yet completely prepared as Ark's eyes found the feast. “They would enjoy wine and dried fruits over meat...”She commented slowly, “Oh poppycock. All men love meat.” Of course she didn't expect Marta to know a thing about the desert dwellers, the woman had lived here her entire life...and she wasn't educated like she was – after all Zelda was always leaving books around and Ark had taken a habit to reading them while the Princess slept for a few hours every night. It had become a ritual even...because the foreigner would have rather died than allow herself to grow dumb and fat like these people had. “Oh look at you girl. You act like you're starved.” The Hylian commented, pausing to watch the Handmaid quickly devour the plate in just a couple of minutes, “I'll be damned if this place is going to turn me into a bony little weakling....have you seen Kala?” Her next question had earn her a small chuckle from the old Hylian cook, “One day that rebel will get you flogged...she's in the stables with that Knight.” Ahh yes the Knight...she’d forgotten about her. “I’ll take care of the supplies.” Ark stated, waving the old woman away as she knelt and lifted a crate that would have required two men to carry up to teeter upon her shoulder.

The sheikah had felt her heart skip a beat. What was meant to be a small informative lesson on Gerudo Stallion’s had quickly turned into a game of cucco to the knight who taunted the stead. Kala knew very well that if the mount wished it, his stable would not hold him, and the knight would not escape him either - she would be crushed if she were not to show an ounce of self preservation. Niko shared the same look as his sister, the two of them had been raised in Kakariko but their father often bred and cared for the horses that the tribe would use for travel and labor. They were instructed their entire lives on how to cooperate with the creatures of nature, and if their blue eyes hadn’t been obvious enough, there was more running through their veins then just Sheikah blood.

They came from an old, forgotten people, that once occupied the Ikana Valley in the region of Termina. And while they might not have been descendants of the dead royal family they still kept some of their roots intact - the ability to tame animals being one such tradition. But the knight’s recklessness resounded in Kala as she watched the girl play with fire, not one to stop a fool from behaving like a fool, but rather allowing their actions to bite them back with a vengeance for acting poorly. And of course Ganondorf’s steed, just as his master would have, lashed out at the knight who taunted him but she was lucky enough to be just a few seconds quicker than he was at that moment. “Will be the last ride of your life…” The sheikah commented as the knight bumbled away and she met the gaze of the horse, who leered at her in contempt, but she couldn’t quite discern what the animal was thinking in that moment.

“Perhaps the Gerudo King will grant you a ride after we bring these supplies to his people.” The Ikana added, following after the knight casually to find the antsy Gerudo charge. She could see Vera was...uncomfortable to say the least and the Sheikah certainly wondered why. If her King had come here and was comfortable in this place so too shouldn’t his servants feel the same way? “You look like a woman with something weighing very heavily upon her mind.” Kala commented, watching the Gerudo, who was taller by a head, closely. “Pray tell, hm?” She asked, tilting her head softly, “We will leave soon enough...and you and your King are safe here.”

“There you are…” She heard her brother pipe up from the other side of the caravan as the the white haired woman finally made her reappearance with a crate balanced on her shoulder. But she passed too close to the Gerudo Stallion who greedily shoved his head into the crate to take from it’s contents whatever he clearly thought looked good enough to eat. The handmaiden was startled for a second, unsure as to why the crate shifted so forcefully, but quickly realized what happened as the horse emerged with his apple that he chewed loudly. “As imposing as your master I see…” She grumbled, clearly displeased with the mounts audaciousness ( who clearly didn’t care what she thought of him) and easily stepped up into the caravan with the crate and set in down with a hard thump.

“Don’t be presumptuous.” The Execution received his reply from the denizen of this small space, though this place was not considered to be “her room” so to speak. But she did spend a fair amount of time in here. The woman in question was an ageless thing whom they called Cia, a woman of envious curves and beauty that even surpassed Princess Zelda’s...but she too was not a woman to be trifled with all the same. She was hotly emotional and pushed to have her way in anyway way that she could and when she didn’t...it angered the Sorceress greatly. She had been in servitude to King Johan since her budding years, having known Johan and Volke as mere little lads, as something of a consultant and adviser to the King though what ties her family had to the Royal’s was yet to be determined. It always seemed as if Cia was simply always there, waiting on the sidelines, dictating what Johan should have done next and what crazy ideals he should leave behind.

And for many years this relationship had worked for the both of them...that was until the Princess Below emerged on Hyrule’s doorstep, injured, and begging for Hyrule’s aid to save her kingdom from a fierce and all consuming darkness. A fool of a Princess who had bitten off far more than she could chew, and Hyrule had made the mistake to help her. Cia still remembered those dark years as if they were yesterday...she remembered King of Dragon’s as well and the evil that oozed from his body. The same evil that had almost consumed Johan and Volke beyond repair...and while the two men had survived the years of battle and corruption...they were still not quite the same as they used to be. And afterwards it seemed as if Johan was pulling further and further away from his council and his advisors, doing more of what he believed to be best and what he wanted - without so much as a second thought for his people nor country...or the consequences of his own actions.

Cia always saw this as a spurn. Each one worse than the last...and the latest one it would seem came in the form of an alliance with a barbaric people who would barely be useful in Hyrule’s Royal agenda. If anything they would be a liability at best. But would Johan see reason? No...of course not. Johan knew better than anyone else in his old age it seemed and for Cia this was perhaps the greatest sleight. For years she had lorded over this kingdom through him and now...it seemed there was a new king upon the horizon - one that Cia knew that she could not control. And while Johan’s daughter was one thing, Cia knew she could charm her way into her good graces...but the Geurdo King - she could see the bloodlust in his eyes and she knew that he wanted this kingdom for himself. And he would have it...just as soon as Johan hurried up and died.

Cia watched the Gerudo King through the folds of the crystal she held in her hand, leaned over the arm of her chair set in the open corner of her chamber. She watched him as he cornered the Handmaiden and she rejected him and she watched as he shed his armor and currently stared out over his kingdom, pensive and she judged him for his character. He was a brutally handsome thing truly...but he was also a threat. A serious threat. And sighing she allowed the crystal to roll out of her hand and clatter to the floor as she found her husband where he skulked at the doorway. They had been married for five years now, ever since the fool had gone and fathered a bastard child out of wedlock, a son who had been born dead and deformed, to the fourteen year old handmaiden and child of the King of Dragon’s. A very poor judgment on Volke’s part clearly and in his anger Johan had given his half brother to she to control, hoping that the man would suffer greatly being tied down to an esteemed wife. It was not an arrangement that either of them had wanted but as the years carried on...it had panned out in their favor to say the least.

And rising from her chair she strode towards her husband and laying her hand upon his chest as she teased at his shirt, “And i’d like to see you disrobed. But we don’t always get what we all want now do we?” Cia spoke softly yet venomously as she moved away from the man and towards the glowing red orb that hung in the center of the chamber. It was a collection of power drawn forth from the catacombs of the castle, which had been sealed shut, and it was a power that she did not quite understand - only that it was primal in nature. “Johan has lost his mind bringing that sand rat here…” She added, “He will bring nothing but ruin.”

The desert king felt a need to leave his room almost as soon as he had arrived. While a nice bath might have calmed his nerves, he was feeling a little too restless for that. These walls of stone and iron, Johan might have wanted them to function as a cage for him, but he wasn't going to wait around like some docile creature for long. Not only was he an impatient creature, he was a curious one. His interests led him to wish to see the rest of the kingdom first hand. The lush fields, the unusual technology, the villages on the outskirts of the large city surrounding the castle. Everything was so well kept, it was like signs of war had never reached this far...part of him felt disappointed that the scars of battle like that upon the walls of his small desert kingdom weren't visible here, at least not on the surface. Pacing around in his room, he finally decided to finish changing clothes. He slipped out of his grieves and into a more loose fitting pair of robes. It was black and clinging to his heavy muscles upon his chest. Sliding a maroon color silken shirt over it, decorated in gold trimmings, with a desert sand colored sash around his waist. The last of which followed was a black jacket that looked almost like it was ceremonial. It hid his arms almost completely and draped down towards the ground. Upon the arms of which was the depiction of a claw clutching at an orb both colored in a fine gold trim. The jacket was perfect for concealing a weapon or some such, not that he had any illicit intentions...for now. Once the man had gotten himself fully dressed, he quietly left his room. He didn't need his entourage to keep him safe, and he knew better than to get into trouble now. Ganondorf walked at a casual pace, back the way he had come. He took a small detour out onto the large walls of the castle. There he saw a tower hanging up above the castle and a bridge leading to it. Many of those large machines that he had seen before were out in the fields here, ancient technology meant to combat the power of Calamity Ganon so it would seem. That along with the Divine Beasts, the Champions, and the Hero, with the final ingredient in the mix being the power of the descendant of Hylia herself. He knew the stories, everyone did. Even if he didn't quite feel like a resident of Hyrule from being raised in the desert, they were all part of the same land and these legends were told the world over. He raised a hand to chin, stroking his finely trimmed red beard briefly. It looked like some kind of research laboratory up there, a place where someone might be able to oversee and watch after the development of these large weapons. He could tell that the weapons installed here were nothing to scoff at. There were all inactive, at least for today, but they practically draped the castle to fortify it and he could see that from the outside. Was Calamity Ganon so dangerous that it needed such a massive force of overwhelming power to deal with added to the already impressive talents of the champions? He couldn't say, but he did find it ironic that he was here poised to take over the throne bearing the same name as the Calamity. Yes it was tradition, but what of his own fate? He wanted power, he craved it. Was it just greed that drove him, or did he truly care enough for his people to free them from the desert to live in a place where they could be accepted and integrated into the world. He scratched his beard in slight annoyance with his own thoughts as he strolled out onto the walls. Here he could see everything that the Hylians had to offer. Not just the town around them but the fields beyond that, the mountains further beyond that, the rivers, the lakes...they could all be his. Yet as he gazed beyond the horizon he noticed something else had caught his eye. That woman again, down far below the walls was the handmaiden Arkaeni who had shown him to his room. Such a strong willed woman, he found her to be intriguing. Such a lovely thing didn't deserve to be held captive here in this place. – Colette was clearly the type who loved to play with fire, as was seen from her provocation of the mighty beast. Yet there was something in its eyes when it snapped at her, that when she met its gaze there was a sign of respect or understanding. The Sheikah might have noticed it when Colette stepped away from that king of horses. It was like a recognition from the beast that it wasn't in charge. If it bit that woman, she would bite it back and it was willing to strike at her anyway knowing that it would be hurt if she decided to fight back. It was like two beasts, alphas of their kind had met and there needed to be some established respect before they could get on with themselves. The dark haired girl smiled back at Kala at the comment. “And what a ride it would be.” She hummed as she began loading her own bags into the caravan. She didn't say anything at the next comment, talking to Ganondorf was a little more intimidating to her than dealing with his horse after all. Colette couldn't shake the feeling of dread around that man, was it because he was evil? Why then had their king allowed him so close? She shook her head to herself as she began to assist the others getting things prepared for travel. As far as Gerudo went, Vera was nothing like Urbosa. The champion was dominant, maternal, perhaps something of a romantic, and without a doubt strong, Vera was a handmaiden to the king. She had been trained in Gerudo customary combat, spear and blade training, the proper usage of a shield, and various other bladed weaponry but she was worried for her people without their king. Not only was their champion here but so too was their king. Without both of them they could be lost, and what worried her more was the knight and Sheikah accompanying them. Kala seemed...fine, but the other woman was impossible to get a read on. What was her plans? Vera picked up a crate when the dark haired woman approached her. “I worry for my people, is that wrong?” She answered, though she might have snapped at Kala in a slightly harsher tone than she intended. It showed just how much her nerves stood on end. This whole situation rubbed her wrong, and she felt like the weight of the world was suddenly on her back. She just needed to deliver the supplies, and if something went wrong they would have these two women executed before something bad happened to her people. War would break out again between the Gerudo on a large scale if this were the case, but she worried that her king and the Champion might be held as a hostage if that were to happen. She exhaled a quiet sigh and shook her head. “Apologies, let's finish getting these things loaded and be on our way?” Colette pushed a crate down into the corner of the wagon and turned to see the white haired servant setting the crate down, Colette took it from her to push it in next to the other one and clamber out of the back of the wagon. Her bright red eyes were fixated on the handmaiden the entire time, an eerie but puzzled expression adorning her pretty features. “I don't think we've ever been introduced before.” She finally said, holding her black gloved hands out in front of at her sides as if in a welcoming gesture. “I've seen you around the king a lot, but I haven't had the chance to talk to you before.” She seemed to want to talk to Ark, it was evident by her mannerisms she was wearing her emotions on her sleeve. Vera stepped past the two of them however, “It's time we go, this is the last of the supplies.” Impatient and ready to leave, she moved to the front of the wagon and shot Colette a glare as if telling her to move her butt. “Oh, well, I, bye then.” She waved to Ark casually as she walked around the wagon to slide into the seat up at the front. Gently stirring the horses up who had been hitched to the caravan, they began to move signaling their departure finally. – Volke stepped into the dark room further when he saw her finally. Hidden within the mostly red lit room from the orb radiating its power throughout. He knew she had brought this thing here for some time, not just because she was interested in it but because she had been amassing it for years. It wasn't just recently that it appeared, and he didn't understand the half of it. Why she had it here, why it seemed to continue growing stronger, what it had to do with their kingdom. It worried him to think that such a thing could lead to their demise. However, as she strode towards him, his demeanor relaxed quite a bit. He had been a bit on edge since the Gerudo King had arrived at their doorstep and he refused to understand Johan and his rationale for such a preposterous thing. When his wife laid her hand upon his chest, he felt her gentle hand through his thin shirt and he looked down at her expectantly only to be rewarded with a quick motion of rejection. “Ah, but that's where your wrong, love, you always get what you want.” He uttered as he followed her through the chamber, standing before the primal coalescence of corruption amassed in that orb. Just standing before it he could feel his heart beat faster and his mind race with a mixture of emotions. This thing was liquefied evil, he knew it was terrible, but he didn't know what to tell Cia. She thought she could handle it and he wasn't one to doubt her power but it worried him that this power would ultimately consumer her. “I don't like it anymore than you do. Johan won't listen to me, his own brother, but you know what they say, keep your friends close...” He trailed off, stepping over to Cia. His hand moved to place upon her hips from behind and he pulled her back against him. Volke had always been a bit of a lady's man, and for Cia he was no different. She was his wife now, and he had a lot of emotional investment in her as opposed to when they were first introduced. He remembered admiring the woman's beauty from afar when he was just a little brat, but that beauty of hers had never faded and he felt like he had become a man worthy of such a lovely thing. “Why don't you take a break, if you wish me to disrobe, perhaps you can join me in the baths?” He offered, wishing to have her leave her study. This place was steeped in corruption, it couldn't have been good for her to stay here and he thought it might be worthwhile to get her to blow off some steam.

She was beside herself, the Princess of Hyrule. How that name seemed to ring hollow these days. She was adored by her people, revered as a symbol of integrity and piety. Kind and beautiful just like her mother before her. She was given just as much respect as her father even and yet she was expected to sit quietly while her future was decided for her and given to a warlord she had never met and already she despised. As a young woman she was wild and full of life, hungry for knowledge, yet desperate for affection. But Ganondorf’s nature of affection was not the kind that she wished to experience. But as a Princess she was to be silent and stoic, she was to agree with her father’s choices and his wants...she was to please him and make him proud of her. And truly she wished to be everything that he wished her to be...but it would not seem to be within the Goddess’ design. Year after year she failed to accomplish the only task asked of her...to reveal this sacred sealing power that was inherited by all the woman born of Hyrule blood. Yet no matter how hard she tried nor how long she prayed it never came to her. Often a night the Princess would wonder what what wrong with her. And perhaps it was due to this failure of duty that her father was so quick to hand her off to the first….somewhat...legitimate man. But while the Princess was so very like her mother...she was stubborn and angry just like her father could be. And without announcement she had stormed through the halls unattended toward her father's study and she would not be halted by his guards outside.

“Get out of my way. I will speak to my father.” She ordered as the golden haired Princess flung open the door, much to the guards dismay, and hurried into the study where her hapless father was bent over his desk with his head in his hand, writing feverishly in his journal like a man possessed...or was he drawing? “No.” Johan grumbled, knowing exactly who it was who had stormed his fortress of solitude and without even looking up. Instead he remained fixed on the blank page before him that he filled up with whatever ramblings he had. “I will not be silenced, Father!” Zelda rebutted, shutting the door aggressively behind her and earning an equally as frustrated sigh from the black haired king and Johan whispered very lowly, almost inaudibly, causing Zelda to blink in concern. “W-what?” She asked, her voice trembling, and just as if nothing had been said Johan look up from the pages a bit wide eyed… almost as if he’d forgotten she was there. “Hm?” He asked, “Why are you here, little bird...?” He asked, glancing down for a moment upon the pages with a wrinkle in his brow before closing the journal slowly on it’s illegible gibberish scratched upon its pages. “Are you not feeling well...Father?” Zelda asked, entering more into the study as Johan leaned back in his chair.

“I am fine Zelda. Now what do you want?” He commanded, already annoyed with the girl. And for a moment Zelda was quiet, unsure of what to say or how to say it. She had come here in a huff, ready to argue and fight, but she always forgot how Johan had a way of shutting her down with just a simple look such as the one he was giving to her. “I…” She began, her heart pounding in her chest as she mustered up the courage to speak, “I do not wish to marry him!” She blurted, and her father did not respond because he knew she hadn’t gotten everything out yet that she wished to say, “I have seen him in my dreams father… he will surely bring ruin to our family and to Hyrule...you cannot let him ascend the throne!” Johan merely rolled his eyes, “Again with these visions...do you not remember what happened to your mother? Who bought into these delusions as well?” The King asked cruelly and a look of pain crossed the Princess’ face who did not wish to remember the way that her mother had left this world. But perhaps Johan had realized he might have picked a little too deeply into his child for once and sighing again he searched the ground at his feet for answers. “Zelda, I do not intend to hurt you by marrying you to this man. But you must understand...we marry politically… this is a business arrangement and I’m sorry that you must be the incentive. But as the Princess you must understand that I must do what is best for the realm.” The King explained as kindly as he could.

“Best for the realm!? He is going to destroy everything!” Zelda rebelled, “Zelda… I cannot in my right mind leave this world and this kingdom to you without first ensuring it and your safety.” Johan cut her off, growing angry with each word, “Do you know what a man like him and his kind would do to you should you rise to Queen upon my death, unmarried? A man like him would show no mercy to a new Queen...he would invade your lands and lay siege upon this castle...and you will not know how to stop it. You will not have the strength to stop it.” He continued, “If he did not kill you quickly you would certainly suffer unimaginable travesties. It is better this way.”

“How is it better? What makes you think that he still will not do these things just because you give him a room and my hand in marriage?” The Princess questioned, having grown just as heated as her father. “Because he is a starving dog...he will have no reason to strike at you if you give him what he wants. It is better to bring a threat close before that threat becomes an enemy...and when you are Queen you will control just how much power he is allotted. He is not of my bloodline...you are. The people will bow and adore you. The Council will serve you. Not him...now go on. I shall hear no more of this nonsense.”

“But Father...please...”

“Out!”

And just as it always was, the Princess left her father’s company feeling as if she’d gone to war...and lost. Her heart was heavy and her mind full of rampant thoughts, each worse than the next, as she hung her head and traveled down the hallways alone wiping the tears that threatened in her eyes. She always knew that she was a disappointment to that man...yet she still tried to relate to him and speak to him no matter how many times he shunned and shut her out. And perhaps he would love her like he used to if she were just able to receive the Goddess’ gift...but who knew if or when that day would come.

Pretty Princess…

Zelda started as the voice hissed into her ear, thick with an accent yet disembodied and demonic, as if someone had been standing over her shoulder. And with a startled gasped she turned only to find that no one was there. “W-who’s there...?” She called nervously, feeling a heavy and thick presence wash over her that seemed so very familiar in some way. But she received no answer to her question, yet the feeling still remained, as if she were being watched and as she searched the hallway for anything she spied the familiar red locks of the Gerudo King out upon the balcony. But he had his back to her and did not seem to show that he was aware of her presence in the slightest, rather he was intently watching something down below in the courtyards… and that voice certainly was not his in the slightest.

It was funny really...how they all puttered around with their duties to complete and yet every single one of these were so totally different. But they all did the same exact things each and every day. Sometimes she wondered how she had become so complacent and so monotonous in these walls, serving the people who had dismantled her life and forced her live in their world and their ways and denying her her own. They took from her her home and her parent but they didn’t stop just there. They took from her the gifts that made her who she was and oppressed them internally so much so that without such an outlet her own magics had turned against her. Like a disease of the immunity her own gifts eat away at her from the inside out. She could barely use them, and sometimes that was enough to take the edge off, but having been robbed of her teacher as well the Handmaiden truly had no idea what to do with her powers or what to even call them. So inside they festered like a disease. With each passing year it seemed to grow worse and worse and perhaps that was the witches design all along. Where Johan failed to kill her as a child Cia would do so as an adult in such a way where none would ever be the wiser. To all of these Hylian’s...she was just of weak constitution. It was a genius plot really... and with each year Cia came closer and closer to her goal and the handmaiden to the end of her life. The raging headache she felt was just a painful reminder of her disposition in this land, another shove of self preservation urging her to act or die. But it was just a puzzle that she didn’t have all of the pieces to, one she could not possibly solve without them all either. Perhaps that was why she had grown cold and quiet in her older years, knowing well that anger and spite wouldn’t offer her any real solutions to her problem. Perhaps she was simply biding her time. Or maybe she had come to accept that this life was the price she had to pay for being the spawnling of a warlord who lost his grand fight in the scheme to control all of those around him. Perhaps all she really had to blame was her father, for it was his actions that had dictated her entire life up to this very day. His selfishness and his own pride had gotten him killed and left her behind, stunted without his guidance and care.

Yet there was still such a glaring difference between the Hylian Handmaiden and the Gerudo Handmaiden. One served a King and his Princess while the other only served a King. Two women in the same position, doing the same things, yet they couldn’t have been more different. She was to be obedient and nurturing while Vera was to be vigilant and battle ready. Ark was not meant to protect, only to serve. But Vera was meant to do both. The Interloper wondered if it were a matter of culture that made them so different...or if it was the guidance of their King’s. Either way...the handmaiden would have much rather have picked up a sword and fought with them men then braid the princess’ hair and discuss the politics that didn’t involve Zelda to begin with. The girl honestly thought the smarter she was the more respect she would earn from her father and the council...but she was so very wrong. Neither cared how scholarly she was...they cared only about this gift that she was supposed to have inherited by now. That was all. Zelda was not a Princess in their eyes...she was a weapon. And so far a disappointingly dysfunctional one at that. It made the handmaiden sick to think about, for even she had been taught something by her own parent, and he had stressed that magic did not come before it was ready to. Even she did not display any magical prowess until puberty herself. The point was...it would happen when it happened. It was never early nor was it ever late. Magic simply was. But good luck ever explaining that to the likes of power hungry men.

In between her thoughts she heard the annoyance of the Gerudo handmaiden who Kala attempted to make nice with and out of respect for how the woman was feeling the Interloper hurried the rest of her task if only to calm the Gerudo down before she became aggressive. But even as she worked she couldn’t help but feel a chill down her back and a tingle in her neck. For a the moment she tried to ignore it as well as the pounding in her head when Johan’s Knight shambled out of the wagon once they had finished and for perhaps the first time Ark made complete eye contact with the girl who spoke to her for also the first time. It true the two had seen one another for years and yet never shared a single word. And while Ark really had no intentions of breaking that trend she found herself looking at the knight with a slight hint of concern through the pain. The shape of her jaw was strangely familiar to her and her eyes looked to be the same shape as her own but they were much wider. It was almost like looking in a mirror in a way...there were many visible differences between the two yet also glaring similarities that reminded her of home...and of Aaeon. But her concern soon turned to sadness as in her own awestruck she’d not yet respond to the knight before she’d been ushered along by the Gerudo and she moved on just as quickly. “...Hylia’s blessings…” She whispered in response, watching as the knight and the caravan began to lurch away. But as she watched them depart something else stood out in the corner of her eye and with a predatory precision she found it with just a small tilt of her head...rather she found him.

As if it was hard to not see him really...even from far away he was still rather large and imposing and she felt her neck tingle again as looked at him so high up the walls of the castle. The ever indignified King watching as his people made their way back home without him but she was a little surprised to see him standing alone without one of his babysitters. There was no telling what sort of trouble he would get himself into before bed. Yet as she always did when someone stared at her, she stared right back, at least until a warm and wet pair of lips planted themselves upon her cheek and in an instant a blurry image ran across her mind. She saw a woman, the spitting image of Kala, draped in sheer purple fabric and dripping in golden bangles and chains that were worn seemingly as clothing, but left the majority of her body naked either way. Hair as black as jet had been pulled back into a large golden headdress while golden brown skin shimmered in the torchlights. Yet hanging from this doppelgangers throne was a maniacal mask of bugged out orange painted eyes with a face in the shape of a heart lined with spikes that seemed to resonate with a life all of its own. And just like that the image had flitted away and the handmaiden shuddered as Kala waved climbed up onto the moving carriage with ease...but the handmaiden hadn’t heard a thing she’d said to her through the loud ringing in her ears as she grimaced moments later, letting out a shuddering noise.

Niko had emerged from somewhere soon after, arms crossed, and clearly cross as he watched the wagon bumble away down towards Castle Town with his sister cheerfully inside. Kala was always one for a good adventure...but he had a terrible feeling about all of this. “This is a bad idea…” He mumbled as the Handmaiden coughed suddenly, a wet cough, that drew his attention to her and sight of blood as it dripped out of her nose and mouth as she spit it into the grass. Without a word the Sheikah seized her and walked her into the darkness of the kitchen where Marta let out a shrill cry.

“Goddesses mercy what happened!?” She cried, pushing her dish rage into the girls face as the Sheikah put her down at the servants table where she slumped over the wood to lie her had down and hold the rag to sop up the blood. “She has a headache.” Niko replied as he hurried out of the kitchen, running quickly towards the only woman who could provide the handmaiden any sort of relief, Cia.

Cia smiled, chuckling in response to her husband’s musings. In fact he was right...Cia always did get what she wanted and when she didn’t well...she always did. One way or another she would find a way to get what she wanted. Call it selfishness, it mattered very little to the royal witch, but it certainly did leave her husband with the shortest end of the stick most of the time. In fact the man probably could count on his fingers the rare times he had gotten his way instead. But overall it seemed like an arrangement that was perfectly fine with him to say the least. But when he talked of Johan Cia didn’t know whether to scoff or smile. After all her relationship with Johan was still a positive one, except for lately. For years she had served him loyally, advising him on political matters and tactics during war. And if it were not for her, Johan would have never discovered how to tame the King of Dragon’s ...yet she had never been able to truly slither into his mind in the ways that she wished to. Despite all of her tricks and ploys, Johan seemed to be all but immune to it after the war had ended. Sometimes it seemed as if she wasn’t even talking to the Hyrule King on any given day. And more and more it seemed as if he was pulling further and further away from him. It had become a problem as of late, not just for her, but for the Council as well and the king’s half brother.

“Perhaps it’s time for you to become the King then?” Cia asked, trailing her fingertips along the curve the the red orb that seethed in the middle of the room. And as her fingers created grooves inside the energy an image appeared inside of it of the swift moving Sheikah as he ran through the castle with only one goal in mind. The sight of him made the sorceress frown. There was something about this Sheikah in particular that made her uneasy, only because she couldn’t tempt him either. Rather he was loyal to the white haired demon in the castle...and the fact that the girl had friends didn’t sit with the sorceress who wanted nothing more then to bury the girl already. But she was resisting and battling something fierce. To fiercely even and Cia so disliked when things didn’t go her way.

“We have a guest.” Cia announced, moving out of Volke’s grasp and striding towards the door, opening it just as the Sheikah had come to impose in the doorway, grasping the upper door frame as he breathed heavy. Cia tilted her head with a pucker of her lips, glancing him over for a second. “What do you want?” The sorceress questioned, but kept the door shut enough so that the Sheikah couldn’t peer as to what was inside. “You know what I want.” Niko replied coldly, clearly he did not care at all for the sorceress and she was very well aware of it. This Sheikah, like his twin, was a particularly strange kind - able to tame any animal and control their movements...yet neither of them seemed to possess an ounce of any magic that she understood. And perhaps that was why she was so wary of him. “She’s in pain.” The Sheikah added for emphasis. “How unfortunate for her…” Cia replied, giggling quietly, “That girl has poisoned your mind Sheikah...you can’t very well serve the King if you keep running around with a diseased whore, can you?” The sorceress prodded, looking for any crack in the stony Ikana’s personality...but he was truly made of marble it would seem. “Medicine. It’s the King’s order and you know it, or shall I take this matter up with him? I should imagine he will not be pleased to hear about it again.” Of course the Sheikah knew how to shut the sorceress up and with a scoff Cia closed the door and retrieved a vial from the many shelves of vials that lined the room full of all manner of potions and other concoctions. Muttering to herself she gripped the vial tight and returned to the door, practically throwing the vial at the masked man, and slamming it shut again. And drawing in a long and loud breath she turned back to her husband, “About that bath?”

#breath of the wild #botw #loz #legend of zelda #fanfic #cia #ganon #oc #sheikah #zelda #malum

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maleficfiction · 6 years

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Legend of Zelda: Malum Chapter 1

Title: The Man With the Evil Eyes

Pairing: Oc x Cia / Oc x Ganondorf / Zelda x Ganondorf / Zelda x Link / Oc x Oc Era: AU / Prequel / BotW Rating: Mature

Ancient lore tells of a land green in grass and blue in sky. A land of opportunity and a land of peace. A land where a bright sun shown during the day and pale moon glew at night and a gentle wind that brought prosperity to the land. Legend tells of a land blessed by Three Goddesses that shone like gold. From each ones hands came time, law, and life. So much life. Legend called such a land sacred, golden, paradise. And yet... where was such a world? And did it truly exist? That was the question that lingered in the minds of the people for generations. War was waged and blood was shed in attempt to find such a great land of lore... none ever realizing that the land they scorched and poisoned and ravaged was the very land that they sought after so brutally. This land, this Hyrule... was the golden land and after many a battle it would seem that her ancestors had brought peace to the world beneath the Goddess' rule. The people were happy and they wanted for none. Trade was prosperous and the land bore plenty crop to sustain the hearty appetites of the people that mulled down in the lower city in which her great castle loomed above like a bright planet in a sea of stars. And yet...though peace reigned upon Hyrule there was an unsettling heaviness to the air. She was just shy of her eighteenth birthday this Princess of Hyrule, a day that should have bode nothing but happiness and excitement. And yet she stood upon her balcony with a heavy and nervous heart.

The sun lurched low upon the horizon, casting orange hue to envelope the heavens into a cozy sunset whiles the clouds in the distance made shapes that the children pointed out from the courtyard below while they played. From above she watched them as they played and rough housed unattended by their parents, whom would not even come to search for them by night fall. That was the manner of this spanning kingdom suspended in the mountains. Total freedom and total ignorance to malice and to danger. That was the manner of Hyrule, docile and still so childlike in many many ways. Yet this was their home, as it had always been told. The home that the Goddess Hylia carved out for them to live in perpetual peace and tranquility. It was her will, her ever watching presence that kept the rivers flowing endlessly and the air warm, the soil fruitful and the wombs of all her women full with healthy child. But this was not her home. This dynasty... felt more a prison. Her great father, the King Johan Agaaris Hyrule, her warden. He often told her that one day this would be her kingdom and that he required her to be a just and serene ruler just as he himself had once ruled. He wanted her to follow in his stead and his stead alone, to be the greatest queen that Hyrule had ever been monarched beneath. And while the pleasure would be her's to inherit this great green horizon she knew deep in her heart...that this perfect tranquility...this peace her father boasted of...it was all a lie. A lie that took the shape of a great beast of a man who wore armor as black as the night and a grin that could swoon any fair maiden yet possessed such an indescribable malice in his tone.

The man with the Evil Eyes.

He was a king from the desert who lorded over a band of thieves and misfits, mostly women and a few men of equal decrepitude that had managed to impress the Gerudo King with their battle skills. But this man was no king of her's despite what throne he held himself up to, to the little golden haired Princess Zelda, this sand king was nothing more then a powerful tyrant who took pleasure in the pain of others and stripping them away of their livelihood. He spoke of lies and grandeur and he took whatever he pleased too. That was when the Princess found herself unable to sleep at night, plagued by dreams of a dark cloud that swept over the land, blanketing the sky and starving the land of the warm sunlight it needed to grow. And it became so very cold inside of this haze, as if the life was slowly being siphoned out of her body, and within the dark clouds she could see him...the evil king as he laughed down upon her with his glowing eyes like molten gold. He laughed and he laughed...and slowly the world around her began to die away. Her kingdom was dying...and there was nothing that she could do to stop it. It was these dreams that kept the Princess awake and on the coattails of her father throughout the day. Endlessly she begged him to heed her dreams and to act before it was too late...but her father as great as he might have claimed to be...he had no interest in the wild ideas of his daughter who spoke of an evil man who would bring death to the land of the Goddess'. Who pleaded to him to heed legends of old and seek out a Hero garbed in green, who is said to appear when Hyrule was in danger.

“Begone child! I've had my fill of your stories!” He would roar before stealing away through a doorway, slamming the door behind him. And quietly the Princess sighed as the light stung her blue eyes and slowly she sunk to the floor of her chamber, head rested against the pillars of the balcony as Hyrule's wind blew through her golden locks and ruffled her dress comprised of blue and gold satin's, yet cut with the presence of white armor platelets that were more for show then for her own protection. She could feel the night was going to be cool as the summer nights began to wane into the bitter kiss of fall...but it was not the cold that she waited for.

“A Princess does not belong upon the floor.” A breathy voice stated, thick with an accent not found in any corner of Hyrule as the Princess, foreboding, turned her chin upwards to find her oldest and perhaps her most loyal handmaiden garbed in her white servants dress and mundane looking metal choker around her neck bearing only a singular black tourmaline gemstone fastened into it . Princess Zelda had grown with this girl, having been given to her as a mere child herself, yet they shared very little of a bond beyond their duties to the realm. Ark she was called, was one of a few non-Hylian's to dwell inside of the castle. Zelda had been told the girl had come from a far away place and by the look of her it showed truth. She was beautiful, with enviously long snow white hair that curled rebelliously that she, like Zelda’s, was not permitted to cut and terribly black eyes rimmed with just a faint color of grey, almost like an enticed cat, and a full chest and head taller than most of the Hylian soldiers with generous curves and cut with muscles that only a lifetime of training could grant to any soldier. Her skin was a golden hue these days yet had a habit of paling during the winter months where the sun was hidden behind a sky of clouds but it bore a strange sheen to it, an almost invisible snakelike appearance yet was as smooth as glass. And even though she had spent her life behind these palace walls...the accent of her land was too stubborn to leave – and it drowned out any hint of a Hylian accent. And quietly the Princess of Hyrule sighed from her seat, “My father would see to it I stayed here until he favors me again.” She replied cynically and slowly the handmaiden tilted her head.

“It is your father who wishes your presence in the Hall...they are here.” Ark replied, watching the Princess shudder with an unspoken fear that for months had been eating at the Princess' soul. A fear her father had chosen to ignore, the fool that he was. “Come now.” The handmaid added, offering her hands to the Princess and lifting her up with little effort from from the ground and little resistance from the Princess. “I just can't believe after everything I've said he would bring that man here....and worse... seek to ally with him.” Zelda fumed as she gathered her dress into her hands and away from her feet. “In my land if a man was seen as unworthy they would slip poison into his wine.” The handmaiden replied, following behind the Princess with her hands folded at her front, “If he died it was proof of his incompetence...but if he survived then he was destined for greatness.” And with that the Zelda stopped in her stride, turning to stare at her handmaid in horror.

“How barbaric....Hyrule would never stoop to such depravity. My Father will listen to my reason...he will.” Zelda scolded, turning away and exiting her chamber into the crowd of many white garbed females waiting patiently outside, leaving Ark behind as she rolled her eyes in disgust and turned them downward as was required of all the help...yet the frustration was evident upon her face as she hurried down the spiral staircase to catch up with the brood. And within moments they all had arrived at their destination, the vaulting throne room. A open cavity within the castle where the King and Princess' thrones stood at the centerpiece of high stone walls and tapestries and a healthy line of men armored to the teeth and dripping in deep blue capes to signify their status as the elite Guard to the King of Hyrule. A King who already sat upon his throne awaiting his esteemed guest, a man of many stories and many names – the overlord of the desert. “Daughter. Sit.” He commanded, clearly still frustrated with his child from earlier and silently she bowed her head and did as she was told without rebellion and as she sat so did her Handmaids disperse, returning to their other tasks throughout the castle save for the white haired one who slunk up to the upper most level of the audience chamber. She didn’t realize the black haired but graying King watched her as she wandered and chose her place above them all, leaning against the stone balcony to watch the approaching events unnoticed. But it wasn’t long before the two of them locked eyes for the longest of moment, broken only by the sound of the Hal doors creaked open powerfully, rumbling the floor and walls as the servants lead their notorious guest inside.

On mighty strides did they enter, the heavy footfalls of a people much larger and more intimidating than the small and frail Hylians who were their neighbors living within the same large land. Out in the harsh climate of the Gerudo Desert it was no wonder that only the strong survived, and their race embodied just that—strength. Perhaps more appropriately, it was power. Power to lead, power to control, power to survive, and power to fight. No race in Hyrule embodied the fury of the lands more so than the Gerudo, and their leader was power made manifest. He stood tall above even the tallest of the femme fatales that walked alongside of him, their heads held high dressed in the regal trappings of the royal court of the Gerudo. The one that led them, a beast of a man by the name of Ganondorf.

The name itself came with a terrible weight, passed down through the kings throughout time. Supposedly every one hundred years a new man was born to the Gerudo and it was by birthright that he was given the name of the devilish king of old who once plunged Hyrule into chaos. The name itself wasn't evil, but it evoked fear in the hearts of those who heard it undoubtedly. He stepped heavy in his azure armor, full plate armor that looked like it belonged to a war lord more so than an ordinary king. He was just that, the overlord of the desert, and his reign was cruel and embodied the principles of the Gerudo. They sought after power, after wealth, and they would expand their rule towards Hyrule. The overwhelming threat of the Gerudo King was something that the king of Hyrule couldn't ignore and here they were now to discuss potential peaceful solutions to Ganondorf's threat of onslaught.

The man was imposing as he stood in front of the princess and the king, standing in a relaxed pose with his left hand resting on his hip. His armor was a deep azure color, decorated in fine gold trimmings with a thick red ruby emblazoned on the chest of the armor. The pauldrons of the armor lined with thick fur leading down to large solid gold bracers with a similar ruby placed within. Around his waist a solid red cape that fell behind his legs swaying lightly with the wind coming through the open audience chamber doors. He had no weaponry on his person, but just from his sheer stature it was clear he was a threat unarmed. The man was like the embodiment of strength, even under his heavy armor his body was noticeably strong and well crafted. It was like he had been cut out of stone. His features resembled that of the Gerudo, with a large pointed nose, a prominent chin decorated in his bright red beard, dark skin, and a long mane of blood red hair that flowed out to his back in fiery display. Atop his head he wore a crown of gold, a spiky headdress that displayed a red jewel upon his forehead.

Behind him was a very small escort, two Gerudo women who were considerably smaller than Ganon also without any weaponry on their persons. Of course the small group wasn't allowed their arms to have an audience with the king. The Gerudo women looked to be trusted servants of the king, but to his side stood a woman much more impressive and perhaps nearly as intimidating as Ganondorf himself. She stood nearly a head shorter than Ganondorf, but that was impressive in and of itself as he was an incredibly tall and imposing figure. She, like him, cut an impressive figure even for Gerudo women. Her clothes gave who she was away quite readily in the blue garb she wore. She was the chosen champion of the Gerudo, and she was closest to Ganondorf having been trained and also was something of a sparring partner with the man. Her outfit was significantly more colorful than those that traveled with the two of them. Consisting of golds, greens, and most importantly blues. She wore a small top that left little of her upper body to the imagination, with thick abdominal muscles prominently on display and a pleasantly womanly curve to her waist and hips. Around her waist was a gold plated belt where her blue skirt hung, golden depictions of the divine beast from the Gerudo desert on her skirt. Her outfit gave the impression almost of that of a peacock, and she was a woman who stuck out even standing next to the king of the Gerudo. She had wavy red hair that was held back by a gold and green headband and then hung in a loose pony tail down her back reaching just to her waist in length.

The two of them were striking to say the least, but the most notable feature of the two Gerudo that stood before the crown were their golden eyes. Shining brighter than the gold that they wore were those eyes, in Ganondorf it was like looking into the eyes of a tyrant, festering orbs of evil awakened. Yet the champion, it was like the polar opposite. Golden eyes that shown with a maternal warmth and a hopeful future, no doubt these two were perhaps the most charismatic people of the Gerudo altogether and yet they were so vastly different.

The champion, Urbosa, strode forward, looking up at Zelda and smiling warmly. Her blue lips curled into the smile of a friend. She had met the young girl before, and they were fast friends. Urbosa perhaps something of a guiding figure in the young woman's life. She felt like the two of them had something of a connection at least, and she knelt down to one knee in front of the king and bowed her head. Their escort did the same to mirror her actions. “My lord.” She proclaimed, much as Ganondorf walked a little closer to the throne. Guards ready to draw their swords already in the audience chamber seeing him walk forward without bending a knee. His intimidating presence sucked the air out of the room rapidly. That ominous dark feeling, the oppression of a king who could be their greatest enemy.

Ganondorf's golden gaze looked upon the king, a sadistic grin plastered on his face as he saw this throne. The king was just a stepping stone to his own greatness, and he would have him slain and assume the throne himself now if it were possible. However, violence now wasn't the answer. Moving to his knee, he pressed his leg down to the ground and bent the knee to the Hylian King. “My King.” He bowed his head, making a peaceful gesture. There was no secret he was nothing but a wolf in sheep's clothing, and the disguise was horrible at that.

“We've come to reach a diplomatic solution to our plight, my lord.” Urbosa piped up, raising her head and looking upon the king still on her knee. She knew better than to let Ganondorf decide the terms of their agreements. If she had, his temper might flare and they would be fighting their way out of the castle instead of peacefully occupying the place. “The Gerudo seek hospitable lands, bountiful resources, and acceptance into the royal court.” She stated plainly, something they had already discussed through parcels. It was the audience with the king that was an invitation by the king himself, so here they were to discuss the terms. What could Hyrule give them to satisfy their needs? She wished to know why the king would have allowed Ganondorf to come here though, and it worried her to think what could happen now.

Ganondorf himself noticed that they weren't alone with the guards here. He raised his head, looking up as he stood back up. He wasn't one to rest on his knees for any long length of time. What he did notice however, was a woman, one of the princess's handmaidens no doubt but she looked different and he raised a brow as he met her gaze before turning back to face the king.

There was a lot to be said of King Johan Agaaris. Some might have called him a good man and fierce warrior. A fair individual whom possessed both wisdom and courage. A man of great influence and power. Beloved by his people and by his court. Praised by the Goddess to whom his child worshiped and blessed with a land of fertility and providence. Not a soul could possibly bear an ill-will towards such a fair and magnanimous King. But others would spin quite a different story of King Johan...and his great bloodlust, a hunger passed down from his father before him and his father before him. For Hyrule was not always at peace and not always green. In a time not long ago...Hyrule was a savage land. Bloodstained and treacherous, full of liars and thieves and warlords. The Kingdom of Hyrule, the rule of Hyrule, did not exist in those times and the races of the land battled one another for the power of the Sacred Realm, the Golden Realm...and the ancient relic that lie hidden inside of it. Many great battles had been waged in those dark times...and it was his family who had risen above and under their diplomacy....peace had been had been achieved.

Yet the cost of such a triumph had been dear. Many lives had been lost. So many depravities had been committed. Thousands suffered...and some even to this day still suffered. The King of Olde had done what he needed to bring the world back under control where the Goddess' had turned a blind eye. But it was these things that many still remembered when they spoke of King Johan, descendant of the Olde King...for his ways were militant and daresay they could be cruel. But had be not maintained peace with his regime? Were his people not happy? Was their way of life threatened no? No he thought not and it was all in part thanks to him. The people of Hyrule often had no idea the kinds of dangers he averted before the monster could rear it's ugly head all so his people could slumber peacefully at night. Yet there were still those who would spit at him and curse his name, though they might still bend their knee...they held no loyalty to him. And it was these individuals that he minded the most, for one he suspected was seated right next to him and as the golden haired princess came to sit upon her throne the graying king was looking at her sideways, reminded of her mother – another free spirit yet never as stubborn as Zelda was. She looked so much like her mother it was uncanny to say the least and unfortunately her stubbornness was a gift only from him. Yet he couldn't help but worry over her. Lately she had not been well. Blabbering on like a maddened fiend of dreams with dark clouds and a man with evil eyes who would bring ruin to the land of Hyrule in a single fortnight. The raving of an overactive imagination he called it and it infuriated him.

But he was not without blame...he had been vastly absent from Princess Zelda's childhood and much of her teenage years, too busy chumming glasses with his generals and buttering up the elected officials of the land to ensure diplomacy and trade. Even after her mother had died...he simply had no time for a child. So he had left her in the care of a Sheikah and a foreigner for a playmate. And while he hardly suspected Impa of filling his daughter's mind with such unease, the Sheikah were a mystical people �� brimming with premonitions and cryptics and such things might have proven to be far too overwhelming for the Princess whose duty was to the Goddess of Hylia and Hylia alone – though Zelda rebelled against such teachings...she ultimately knew her place and he trusted her to act appropriately for the benefit of the realm...no matter what the circumstances demanded of her. And it was this demand of duty as to why she sat in this chamber today, for today she would learn first hand how to ensure the protection of her birthright and country. That could not be said however for the playmate who lingered up above like a snake in the grass, watching with the same pensive rage that the man who sired her also once looked. Even after a decade and a year… she still carried herself with a pride far above her status in this castle, this too enraged him.

For years the Hylian's and the Gerudo had stood at odds. During the great war it was the Gerudo who refused to bend the knee and as a consequence they had been driven away into the outskirts of Hyrule – into the harshest environment known to man, the Gerudo Desert. The King of Olde had intended for them all to die out there, a quick solution to a growing problem perhaps he thought. But the Gerudo were as proud as they were resilient and they adapted to their fate flawlessly. And in the desert they remained for hundred's of years, suffering a scorching day and a frigid night, resorting to the raids of entire villages and caravans for supplies to merely survive in an environment that provided them nothing. King Johan had lost many assets to the likes of these thieves and a lot of able bodied men as well whom to had been kidnapped and never heard from again. And this was a dance they performed again and again...until today. Today that would all end, for the first time in decades Hyrule might truly be unified. But King Johan was not without his own birds in the desert. And he had heard the stories of a Gerudo King of all Kings – the strongest one they had bred yet. A man of such fierce strength and resolve that his name had carried throughout the realm...and not a single creature of this province did not know to whom he was.

They say he was a deformed beast of a man, standing eight feet tall, and that he grew horns out of his head and back. That he had ripped his way out of his mother's womb and that he drank the blood of his infant children as soon as they were born to him. So many wild stories surrounded this desert king and yet very little actual facts were present about him. He was a very careful man who knew how to keep his secrets, but when another man was regarded in such high esteem, Johan simply couldn't deny it. He would hear the Gerudo King out because beneath the steely and harsh gaze, The Hyrule King felt pity for the man and his people. But it had been pride who had long forbade him to take the first step in rectifying the past. And as the armored hulk of a man came before him King Johan could see the similarities to the stories told about him. But he was a handsome devil of a man to be sure, but nothing like the soft featured men of Hyrule. He had truly been cut from stone and molded by the rigorous training of the Gerudo. And as Ganondorf came to kneel before him Johan simply stared down at him as he slouched upon his throne and his cape woven from wolves fur, totally unimpressed and unconcerned compared to his rigid daughter and the wide eyed nobility that stood in witness while he rested his cheek against his knuckles. Ganondorf was a threat to be certain but not one so great that he could command any instance of emotion out of the Hyrule King. And it was this cold and intense demeanor that had earned him his moniker: The King of Wolves. Further cemented by the iconic cloak that he wore made from the beasts themselves. None could deny that he was a proud man. And that he was not easily shaken...but he was quick to anger when challenged on his authority. But he could see that the Gerudo King was quite the same when he did not kneel for longer than he himself cared to. A wolf knew a wolf when he saw one. And that was why he had summoned the sand king here today. For if you fed a beast just enough it would remember from whom it came from for the rest of its life. And it would come back eventually for more.

“Gerudo King… Lady Urbosa. It is an honor to have you here beneath my roof.” The King stated, his voice strong and booming as the white haired handmaiden tilted her head quaintly with the curl of a smile when the Gerudo King looked upon her. And slowly the young, but beginning to age, King leaned forward upon his throne just so slightly. “You may stand, Champion.” He spoke to Urbosa. In the corner of his eye he could see the rigidity in his Princess, who was gripping the armrest of her chair as if her life depended on it, concern was written all over her face as she stared at the Gerudo King in familiar horror. The Man With The Evil Eyes. He was reminded of her raving this morning and when looking upon the Gerudo King...he could see how she could project her wild dreams onto the frightening visage of the man who stood before him. But he was determined to prove her wrong despite her terror.

“I must admit Gerudo King… what you ask of Hyrule is great.” King Johan continued, still dominating the audience hall, casting down a cynical gaze to the young Gerudo that passed over each of his entourage with scrutiny, “For very little in return.”

“I heard he bore horns…” A voice chimed out, yet softly so, from the dark recess between a pillar and a bookstand. The voice was familiar to her, lower in tone yet sultry, as bright blue eyes almost seemed to glow in the darkness of the leather clad woman who wore the red symbol of the Sheikah upon her chest. A mane of blonde-brown hair had been battled into a hair tie but was so thick that it offered very little difference. She was one of the Royal Family’s protectors, in the very same league as Impa - Zelda’s surrogate mother. And it was their duty to blend into the shadows and watch from afar, to assess threats and bring that knowledge directly to the King, and it was their duty to carry out his will when it came to such threats. And her presence here was of no other reason then that, to protect the Royal Family.

“He’s beautiful.” Ark corrected, “Where’s your leader anyway?” Ark replied in a similar hushed whisper as she leered over her shoulder to the woman who leaned against the wall. “Rest assured she is here.” Kala replied calmly, staring through the banister uprights to the scene as it unfolded below them, out of sight and mind to those down below. Ark hummed quietly, “And your brother as well?” She asked only to receive a nod from the woman in question. And so she looked back upon the scene, coming to rest against her elbows as she admired the Gerudo’s long red mane of hair, something she’d grown envious of Urbosa for having...but seeing it on their male was exciting to say the least. “I’ve also heard he does terrible things to his women.” Kala chimed up again, the concern relevant in her voice as she noticed the longing stare that the Lorulean had for the Gerudo King, “He might look shiny and new right now...but he’s rotten inside.”

“No more rotten than Johan himself.” Ark was quick to reply with poison in her words, receiving a sigh from the Sheikah. “Perhaps so. But Johan is our King...he has always protected us.” Kala added as she curled her finger around a segment of her hair and adjusted her stance to favor her other leg. “Mm...Is that what you all call it?” Ark mumbled, fingertips tracing the grooves within the stone banister.

The Gerudo King stood silent before the king of Hyrule, his gaze slowly moving from the balcony down and around to the king once again. He listened to the man carefully, fully aware of the breadth of this man's rule. Hyrule was a grand kingdom, the holy land as many Gerudo put it. The desert was part of this land, but it possessed innate danger that was naturally home to some of the various places in the land. Of course, there were other places that didn't get off easy either but the residents of such places had adapted and were content. The Gerudo however, were not. They were an oppressed people often associated with thieves, bandits, brigands, and worse. The Gerudo were a people that were dealt a raw hand, and more than anything were associated with an ancient evil and exiled out to the desert of all places. They say diamonds were crafting under intense pressure, and perhaps ultimately that was what had made the Gerudo as strong as they were today.

“What I can do for you?” The red haired man's lips slowly came together, causing his grin to fade completely and the mood seemed to suck out of the room altogether. It felt as if the king might have insulted him, and he slowly looked towards his champion. The beautiful and illustrious Urbosa, who could see the dark glint in her king's eyes. She bit her tongue to keep from speaking her mind on the matter too, knowing that if she had said something it might not have been what the king wanted to hear. Then again, perhaps stopping Ganondorf before he started was a good idea? Taking a short breath, she lowered her gaze from the man and averted it back to Ganondorf.

He stepped closer to the throne, and though he expected little in reaction from the king, but he could see his escort, his guards begin to reach for their weapons to defend their liege if deemed necessary but the dark skinned man wasn't violent yet. “Tell me what you think we, the Gerudo, do in the desert to our enemies?” The man asked, a solemn expression worn across his features. His golden eyes lit up. “I'll let you know simply this...” He trailed off, looking sidelong as if he were pleading his case compared to a proud king. Then again, perhaps he just had a dramatic flair to things. “My people, we bring destruction, ruin, death. No one stands against the might of the Gerudo. We are as a sword, aimed at the throat of those that oppose us.”

He debated on whether to fully elaborate on what he said a moment ago. “I'll leave this simple then, do you take the handle or would you prefer the blade?” He said plainly, explaining that he could grant succor to his people in return for an alliance of military might, or he can refuse them and become an enemy of them meaning they would bring the full force of their militant power down upon the Hylian kingdom. He didn't see any other alternatives, and Ganondorf posed the question with a furrowed brow, turning to face the king and look him eye to eye.

Urbosa grit her teeth. She didn't like it when Ganondorf spoke so bluntly, the idea that they were giving the king an ultimatum like this was dreadful. She wasn't going to try to clean up a mess that Ganondorf made like this though, but she supposed now it weighed on the king's shoulders. The champion of the Gerudo knew well what it meant to stand for her king and her people...but Ganondorf was indeed someone who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. If it was the seat of Hyrule, then he would have it one way or another. She reasoned it could be a hard fought and bloody battle the likes of which would go down in Hylian history forever, or it would be a diplomatic treaty that would serve both sides. Whatever the case, she was prepared for the worst.

For all intents and purposes...it couldn't have gone any worse in the Red Wizard's opinion as the Gerudo King explained himself in the only way that he knew how to, in threats. Not many would attest to the fact that despite the rumors and his brutish appearance that Lord Ganondorf possessed quite a silver tongue. It was a trait he had inherited from his mother, Twinrova, who could be very persuasive with her words and could tempt even the most devout of men into doing her bidding. She lovingly had taught her son, whom she worshiped, the art of diplomacy and she had been very rigorous in her son's education. She wanted him to be the greatest Gerudo King to ever rule the desert, she inspired him to bring prosperity to their people and compared to the barbarian kings before him Ganondorf took a paragon above them all. But he had taken her teachings a step forward and done what no other King had dare to. He swallowed his pride. And he crossed the desert into foreign lands to kneel before a family solely responsible for the oppression for his people....to ask for help.

Some of the Gerudo were offended though they would never openly admit, perhaps the most important one being Ganondorf's young sister Makeela Riji who saw evil in the man and every day segregated herself from him just a little bit more. Ganondorf took little notice, that was what Agahnim was for, to gather information and snuff out those of ill loyalty and intent to the Gerudo King. If only she could have seen her King she loathed so much now...perhaps her mind might have changed even just a little bit. But he did not pretend that the silly girl's feelings had no merit – Ganondorf could be quite questionable at any given moment...but he was well at hiding it...this was not one of those moments and the Red Mage groaned quietly in embarrassment behind the Gerudo King. He wanted so terribly to intervene and apologize on Ganondorf’s behalf but he dared not interrupt the King during one of his pissing contests either. So naturally the Red Wizard instead prepared for the impending chaos that surely would ensure from this sleight.

And while the Geurdo King was quick to rear his ugly head the Hyrule King, whom had been lightly petting his own beard seemingly unbothered by the threat, Agahnim had not forgotten their true intention here today. It wasn't about trade and peace...though a wonderful perk for a while, it was about so much more than that.

Johan was an athletic man, for a king – unlike the many others that had grown stagnant and fat in their rule. But compared to Ganondorf - he was clearly at a disadvantage in many areas. That same disadvantage also applied to the Hylian Knight’s who stood tense and favoring the hilts of their weapons. And while the Gerudo King still would not get far if he did attack, Johan was well aware of the amount of destruction and harm this beast of a man could cause before he was put down by the Sheikah up high. Yet it didn’t bother the Hyrule King despite. Where the two men might have differed in size and strength meant little when they were both young and both disciplined with their own swords. Ganondorf’s own weight and size was his own weakness, while Johan’s armor would easily have been detrimental to his next to his failing eyesight. It would have been a glorious fight nonetheless. But Johan had not brought them here for a fight. And so Ganondorf’s idle threat fell upon deaf ears despite the dead silence of the audience chamber. For one thing still stood truthful to this day, the Gerudo were already enemies of Hyrule. And they had been so for hundreds of years. The only difference now was an open line of communication. And were it still Johan’s father sat upon this throne, such communications would already have been closed and this Gerudo King would be under siege. But Johan was not his father, he was quite a bit smarter than the old man had been but he had learned well from him. Where other saw a threat Johan saw an offer. A boon to his already decorated military forces was just one of the offerings that the Gerudo King could provide to him.

And the Hyrule King set back a little more into his chair in a moment of thought after the Gerudo King finished breathing his fire. “A compelling argument.” He mused, resting his chin onto three of his fingers once more while Princess Zelda looked at her father in dismay. He certainly wasn't going to entertain these people, was he? Johan remained quiet again, his eyes scanning over the many faces of his court, all ghostly pale faces. “I am told your people possess potent medicines as well?” He ask, wondering if he had had access to it beforehand might it have saved his wife from the sickness and fever that had taken her so long ago? And even better so, how could his people benefit from such a gift as well? And had he not followed the policies of his father before him how many others could have been saved by this single vial of iridescent potion when the plague swept through the land? He couldn't deny that while Hyrule was blossoming and needed not for food nor water...sickness was perhaps the greatest battle that they faced. Every year hundred dwindled away from one thing or another and the increasing number of deformities in his people did leave some cause for concern. Aside from that...he knew the people too would embrace the colorful clothes and fermented spices that came from Gerudo lands just as well. They were always seeking something new. But the question still remained on whether or not he could trust the Gerudo with so much as an ounce of authority inside of his court?. The stories of the brutality, the needless brutality, still held a vast amount of water.

Johan took in the sight of the Gerudo King once more, noticing the fire that burned in his eyes - the rage the man attempted to hide beneath his rough exterior - a certain hatred for himself. He was no stranger to such a look. He did not fear the Gerudo King for one simple reason...he had fought and defeated a man not so unlike Ganondorf before. And like the King of Dragons, Ganondorf harbored a nurtured sense of pride in his own abilities. And while his own people hailed him the King of Kings.. It did not elevate him to the status of a god. Ganondorf, like the King of Dragons, was just a man of flesh and bone and blood. And all men had their weaknesses. The King of Dragons had almost defeated the Hylian army with the use of black magic and conjured minions of hellish design - Johan had fought him and lost for years before the strongest of them prevailed. He had lost thousands of men...but Hyrule in the end had won the war and restored order. What could a savage and his harem think they could accomplish running to war with the likes of him? Johan had stared into the eyes of the devil and it was the the devil who bowed.

“A very compelling argument indeed...” He finally spoke, heaving a heavy sigh, “I suppose we can set our long history of disagreement aside in favor of new beginnings.” He could practically hear the air leaving his daughter's lungs as she closed her eyes and bit her lip. She knew this was not her battle and there was no victory to be won for her here. Luckily when faced with dishonorable circumstances...the Princess always remembered her place no matter how much respect had been paid to her that might have made her feel bigger than what she was. This was still Hyrule and women had their place in Hyrule, a Princess especially had no place in the politics of state – not while he still lived and sat this throne. “But...” Johan continued after a moment of suspense, “Hyrule as you know stands in unity and as it's King I cannot compromise this unity...therefore I propose a peace treaty of the highest caliber, marry my daughter and the Gerudo will have a place in this court.” And with that a sly smile crossed the King's face, “I'm sure as a leader of your own you understand the importance of respecting arrangements, and as a show of good faith, I invite you and your brood to remain here in the castle beneath my care during this time...you can rely on a shipment of supplies to your people in the desert indefinitely, enough to survive on, they may come and go as they please.” A strict King and a kind one it would have seemed as the Princess felt her stomach turn and her eyes found the Gerudo King, terrified of the sight of him as tears welled slightly in her eyes. She begged the Goddess for him to refuse such an offer. She begged for mercy.

With that all said, the Gerudo were all on edge. They weren't allowed to bring their weapons into the audience chamber with the king and princess after all. Without their weapons they may have still been able to put up a decent fight but this was a unique situation. Gerudo didn't back down from any challenge, martial or not. With the king clearly deliberating what Ganondorf said, the small group felt ill at ease. The knights were all ready to jump to action, to fight right now, and they knew that these Hylians only saw them as freaks of nature in comparison to their size and stature. Most Hylians regarded Gerudo in the worst of ways, and if being exiled to the desert wasn't bad enough. “New beginnings?” Urbosa's bright topaz eyes lit up. For a long moment she had to ponder what that implied, but she remained ever stalwart and ready to jump to action.

“Yes, my liege. All of our developments in medicine and culinary arts will be at your disposal, as are we.” Urbosa leaned forward, offering herself as she took a knee before the king to display that she was willing to be loyal to the man. She was still reeling from the idea that Ganondorf would be made to wed the princess of all things. The last thing that the champion of the Gerudo expected was a royal invitation into the king's court by marrying his daughter. Immediately, her eyes darted over towards the young thing perched upon the throne beside her father. She could see the tears forming in her eyes, and her heart sank at the sight of the girl in such pain.

Urbosa would have loved to take care of her, the poor lass didn't deserve this. As much as she loved her people and her king, her ties to the man were loose at times and she knew how horrible he could be as well. Ganondorf was a beast, fang and muscle, one which set loose would stop at nothing to get exactly what he wanted. It made her stomach churn to think of what he might do to the princess of his most hated Hylian King. The rage that broiled over inside of the man was terrifying and she made a silent vow to take care of Zelda now that this was decided. Urbosa knew exactly what the man would do now and she turned to face her king expectantly.

Ganondorf stood silent, his eyes cast downward after he heard the king's offer. It was hard to avoid cracking his cold exterior. His golden eyes lighting up with greed as he looked up at the king who was unperturbed by the notion of giving up his own daughter to the desert king like this. Letting out a hearty laugh, he didn't bother even looking at Zelda. Unlike Urbosa, he didn't see the two of them on the thrones as people. If anything, they were simple objects. They were stepping stones on his path to becoming the true king of Hyrule. Wedding a little Hylian girl, as much as he hated the notion of wedding one of such small stature and frailty, he would do whatever it takes to claim the throne and Johan had just set him up with a deal perfect for his ambition.

Ganondorf brought his hands together, clasping them in front of him and nodding once to the king. “Very well, I will accept the terms of this arrangement. I shall wed your daughter, and in return we offer all of the cunning of the desert and the powerful secrets of the Gerudo people.” He explained, separating his hands and setting one upon the breast of his armor and offering a slight bow of his head. Turning momentarily, he looked upon the few Gerudo women with him and then to Urbosa. “My champion will remain by my side, Vera, take flight to our kingdom. Escort the Hylians back to the fortress,” He turned to face Johan again. “No men are permitted within the walls of my kingdom, it is our custom. Women may come and go as they please, have a woman deliver supplies to my people.” Ganon explained, his features calm and collected. It was clearly important for him to get plentiful supplies back to their small kingdom.

Of the few Hylian knights within the room, one stepped forward. As most were fully clad in the armor of the knights, it was impossible to see the person's face. Removing the helmet revealed a dark haired beauty, her hair black as pitch falling in waves down her armor. She had pale skin and bright red eyes, perhaps an indication that she was of Sheikah origins. She was close to the king, ready to protect him if these people were unruly in any way but she saw that things had been resolved peacefully. Her name was Colette, and she was a loyal servant to the king but she had nothing but disdain for his daughter. “Allow me, my king. I'll go to the desert to deliver supplies and make certain that everything is delivered without delay.” She offered, a sly smile across her delicate features. If Ganondorf seemed like a snake, she had the vibe of a viper herself. No doubt she was a dangerous woman, but her allegiance was to Hyrule undoubtedly so.

#legend of zelda #botw #zelda #ganondorf #loz #fanfic #oc #breath of the wild #cia #hyrule #ganon #link #urbosa #revali #daruk #mipha #midna #majora #agahnim #malum

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maleficfiction · 9 years

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Lions and Lambs Chapter 7; The First Day: Path of the Hunted Part 2

Title:

Lions and Lambs (Discontinued)

Pairing: Oc x Hoyt / Oc x Vaas / Doug x Vaas (Bromance) Time: AU / Prequel Rating: Mature

Summary: A vacation gone sour. One friend is dead. Another is missing. The remaining two are hunted by pirates and inked by the mysterious Tatau that is said to provide them strength. They must survive the Island and all her trickery, become warriors and earn Citra’s respect, obtain the strength needed and fell their enemies to save their missing friend from the man they call The Tyrant before she is sold into slavery. But they do not yet understand just how dark the archipelago really is after sunset nor the rabid Giant who has gotten wind of their scent.

Red had shot him. She'd fucking shot him. In complete and utter disbelief Vaas had simply stared down at the culprit, who showed zero signs of remorse. Anything but, really. Red was all too happy to knock him back onto his ass entirely after she'd removed Blondie from his grasp. She shot him. All at once shock had given way to anger as he stared up at the girl. He wanted to scream at her, wanted to get back up and hit her or shoot her himself. But his earlier observation was nothing short of spot on where Sorcha was concerned. She liked to hurt people and it showed in her careful manipulation of Vaas and his wants. It showed in how deliberately-placed her shot had been; no man just up and walked off a hit to the gut like she'd given him. And she liked to taunt... It wasn't... Quietly answered to his question not even a minute before, all while she took aim again to deliver another bullet, this time throwing aside all pretenses and leveling the sights on his head. But it was like they always said. The third time was the charm, and with this fourth time Sorcha held him at gunpoint she ultimately didn't pull the trigger. The air just wasn't coming in the amount Vaas wanted it to no matter how hard he tried, even with his hands pressed to his freely-bleeding wound in an attempt to stop the flow. There was no breath with which to tell her exactly how bad she'd fucked up, no breath to tell her not to pussy out and pull that trigger. None to tell her that he'd be back on his feet a lot sooner than she wanted him to be, and once he was... It was her he'd be chasing down. What his mouth couldn't say, though, he said plainly with his eyes that never once left the redhead's. The rest he said with the smile that came to his face, mouth stretching to the limits that no sane man's could despite the agony in his stomach. From somewhere distant-sounding Benny's voice rang through the jungle, and a blink later Sorcha and Ash were gone. Finally Vaas let his head fall back against the grass, teeth gritted against the pain that if he tried hard enough, he could almost pretend was tolerable. Even as hard as he tried to ignore it, he couldn't ignore the fact that Benny's words were sounding real hazy and indecipherable right then, as though the man was trying to talk to him with a mouthful of cotton or something. All at once it was brought back into highly unwelcome clarity when the American lifted him from the ground to throw over his shoulders. "Fuck," He ground out in not much more than a snarl, unsure of whether the word had actually left his mouth or not. He certainly thought it, along with several other obscenities put together in one long meaningless string. "She fucking shot me." The words came out in an almost inaudible whisper with seemingly no emotion to them and spoken to no one in particular. Over and over again he saw it happen; himself extending an arm to draw in the downtrodden-looking Sorcha, the moment of false submission, then that look on her face when she'd met his eyes and pulled the trigger. Looking at it after the fact he kicked himself for not seeing it for what it was- an act, pure and simple. It was an act she'd used three times in a row now, and as had been stated... Third time was the charm. A fourth wouldn't happen. So far Vaas had played gently, and every time now Red had only thrown it back in his face and spat back at him to boot. The girl wanted to play hardball, and he was more than happy to oblige her. It was his game after all, and only he knew all the rules but Sorcha had challenged him anyway. It would work out fine, though. It was his game, and as his boss so liked to say, the house always collected in the end. "And I'm gonna fucking collect."

- The redhead liked to think she was a strong individual, all fire and hot coals when it came to defending the ones that she loved. And a calm, but sometimes rough, wind when her friends and family enjoyed her company. Even when the world became black and demons hide behind the eyes of every one she loved she stayed on her feet. She kept her head high and battled through the stinging barbs of words and disasters that the world caused in her her life. She was always a leader, she always had her brood following close behind her while they nurtured their own woulds and dried their tears. When life seemed too hard to bear they always came to her, always clung to her clothes, always the same cry for help. I can't do itThey say as they bury their faces against her breast. You can. She'd always say to them and feel satisfaction in their smiles and small nods. That's just what she was in the end, an idol of power that the weaker of heart flocked to to gather their own strength to face the battles of life. But what happened when that idol wasn't strong enough, capable enough, willing enough? What happened when the pillar cracked and crumbled down to dust and pale comparison to its former beauty. What happened when it was the leader who couldn't do it anymore? What happened was...things went awry quickly. What happened was that people, good and evil, go hurt. And that leader stopped leading. Sorcha had been defeated she just didn't know it yet even though it showed plain as day. But she still had some fight in her, she would always have more fight in her, no matter how wounded or lost she became – she would always fight right down to another bitter end...and it would seem that not even death had the stones to take her down. Vaas had seen her defeat...and the fool thought it was his victory to reap the rewards of – and like a fool he put his hand right onto those hot coals and that fool had gotten himself burned again. But this time, seriously so. But there was no satisfaction in pulling the trigger nor watching him fall to the ground. Only a numbness in her bones even as he sneered upwards at her. In that moment she was god over him and he knew it. But this wasn't the end. She could have killed him but she didn't and for only one reason why. She wanted him to soak in his own humiliation instead and realize that he wasn't as powerful as he thought he was. Because when you mess with a lion's cub – there ceased to be gods or order, not even structure. The entire world reverts right back to chaos and in that chaos no one wins – no one is king of anything. Because in that moment when a mother's brood is threatened there is only one force that rules – nature. And nature doesn't discriminate. Nature doesn't care about man-gods nor kings. Nature gives and nature takes all the same...the only difference was that some were smart enough to stay out of natures way...and then some just weren't. That's what the civilized world liked to call Natural Selection. And such was in the nature of the American pirate to come running to the aid of his wounded leader, like the pack of wolves they were they would come. And no matter how big Sorcha might have felt right then... not even a lion could defend herself and her own against a pack of starving Hyenas. So nature told her what to do – run. With Vaas down and bleeding they wouldn't pursue them for a while. They would tend to their fallen king first and only when he was able enough to draw breath to bark commands would they come after the two of them more fiercely then ever. Because now...now it was very personal. They'd run for what seemed like hours into the thick of jungle tree's and an ever changing green canopy but in no clear direction. The idea was just to get away and get to there quickly, the more distance between them and the pirates the better...even if it didn't help them all that much. The fact still remained was that they didn't belong here and they had no idea how to navigate the tropics nor survive the things lurking around. In places like this even the tree's could kill you if the poison in the bark happened to inexorably cut across your skin. In places like this one often was concerned with the bigger things, bears and tigers and snakes. But those were just simple beasts...avoidable beasts. But in the jungle it was most often the smaller things that got the better of a man. Small things like parasites in the water and mosquitoes carrying Malaria. Those were the real threats to these regions. Threat that neither she nor her sister had even the faintest clue about. And it had all happened entirely too fast to recount. Ash had finally slowed and Sorcha did the same. Her body ached something fierce, every inch of her throbbing in some fashion or stinging or cramping. And the rush of blood in her head was perhaps the worst as she breathed out a sharp and exhausted breath as her shambling body seemed somewhat incapable of walking in a straight line and slowly she just seemed to zig zag from the right to the left and back again...and it wasn't to avoid rocks nor roots. Are you ok? The fated question that had been lingering and gone unspoken for far too long. And it was Ash to ask it first. Sorcha merely nodded in response as she wiped the sweat from her lashes and blinked at the tree's. The answer was obviously not and it showed when she suddenly fell forward into all fours, having lost the battle against a grassy incline that was meager in appearance but far to great a beast for her ailing bones, panting and shaking in her skin. “I just ….need a minute....” She breathed, “I'll be fine in a minute.” The redhead insisted and she slowly sidled over onto her side. - At pretty much any other time it might have almost been comical, the way Sorcha nodded to answer that she was alright before pitching forward onto the ground just a moment later. In this case it was anything but, and spurred Ash forward to tend to the failing redhead. Just looking at Sorcha's face was enough to give the blonde sympathy pains, knowing full well her sister was just about at the end of her rope. She absolutely would not be fine in a minute, that much was evident at a moment's glance as the girl laid herself out to catch a much-needed rest. Which would have been fine itself had it not been for the situation at hand, regardless of whether Vaas had been put down for a bit. The two girls were still very much out in the open and more vulnerable than ever with one of the two hurting so badly. For just a few seconds, however, Ash allowed herself to stay knelt at Sorcha's side, hands unconsciously bringing her rifle up into an at-ease state to be ready of whatever the islands would throw at them next. So far it seemed as though she hadn't held much back up until now, and it stood to reason things would not get easier simply because a member of the duo was wounded. True to the observation, a glance skyward showed that the sun was on its was to setting, and it would likely only be a few hours before night would fall. The question remained then, where the hell did they even go from here? Stuck in the middle of the unfamiliar grassy hills and thick patches of trees, Ash couldn't even be sure what direction was the right way anymore. One thing was certain now though, the two needed to move. The role of leader and protector was one that came easily to Ash after years of having done it for her sisters, although this was an entirely different brand of either role. It was cruel to ask Sorcha to keep going when she so clearly wasn't up for much else, this much Ash also knew. But if the island, cruel beast that she was, had taught her anything in the short time they'd been here... It was that the right thing and the necessary thing didn't always go hand in hand. "Come on," Ash murmured, coaxing the redhead back onto her feet as gently as possible. "We can't stay here." Though she would have liked to offer more support than just giving Sorcha her left arm to steady herself against, more than that Ash needed her gun hand at the ready. Another thing she'd learned to appreciate was the cruel irony of Murphy's Law- if something could go wrong, it would. And had things ever gone wrong here, starting from the very moment Doug had ever laid eyes on their little motley crew. Again the faces that so often tried to make their way into her vision were shoved aside with practiced ease now as Ash instead focused on the layout of the jungle ahead. Though she really had no clue of where to go, that in itself wasn't so impossible to figure out. She certainly knew the direction they'd come from... Which meant the best direction to take was the exact opposite of that, and slowly Ash led what she knew would be an arduous trip. Thankfully the steep hills were empty save for the girls and the group of crows they startled on their way up, though the sudden flurry of movement drew Ash's eye from where she guessed the best path would be to where the birds had taken off to. From where they stood it looked like an impossible to climb plateau of sorts, made all the more hard to reach by the unforgiving rocks supporting it and the large trees providing a natural cover with their leafy branches. That kind of thing was exactly what they needed- a vantage point to raise the odds more in their favor. Again Ash paused to look Sorcha over, the exhausted look on the girl's face giving her a pang of guilt for dragging her along like this. Unbidden, all at once Dennis' earlier words came back to her as clear as if they were being spoken to her again, Let your instincts guide you. As of yet her instincts hadn't failed her, and they now moved her feet onward again to a still unknown destination. With nightfall only getting closer Ash kept their pace at the fastest Sorcha could manage in her state, all the while keeping an eye on both their surroundings and the sky. In doing so, the sight of the giant cross atop the rocky plateau almost startled her in its sudden appearance, though the religious icon brought no kind of comfort. Rather, it just seemed oddly out of place on the island, the structure just strange enough that it would wind up committed to memory whether it was wanted there or not. It would at least make for a good landmark, if nothing else. Ash doubted either of the two would ever wind up needing a giant crucifix in whatever travels this place took them. Though in all reality it took the two no more than 30 minutes to finally reach a break in the unending hilly landscape, it felt like far longer until Ash again set Sorcha down to rest a few minutes while she recalculated their traveling route. Up to this point she'd mostly just been walking in the direction she felt was right until they found themselves sitting at the base of a cliff face, mirrored on the other side of the road ahead by another. It didn't look quite as well used as the main roads she'd seen so far, but its presence still meant this was not a place to stay for very long. Why the hell did I come this way anyway? As if in answer to the blonde's unspoken question, a flock of colorful birds at the top of the opposite cliff took off suddenly, and their perch... It looked distinctly like Citra's temple. Broken, yes, but without a doubt now Ash knew that was where they needed to be. With a newfound energy she knelt to coax Sorcha back to her feet, motioning to the cliff top with a nod of her head. "That's where we're headed. Looks like there's something up there." Though the sounds of passing trucks could be heard somewhere in the near distance, the smaller road ahead was still mercifully empty of pirates or their vehicles. Still... Walking out into the middle of the road was a highly unattractive prospect with the two of them exhausted and undergunned. For a moment longer Ash hesitated until another sound was heard in the much nearer distance- not far off, some huge beast of the jungle behind them gave an almost lazy-sounding yowl. Doug had said there were tigers on the island... And she'd seen one already in that camp of Vaas'. Whatever the creature was, dealing with it was a far more unappealing option and made finally bolting across to the other cliffside an easy feat, where the path up was easy enough to find despite it being fairly disguised into the hill. And having reached the top, the little enclosed section of broken temple pieces was possibly the most welcoming sight ever in the reddening light of sunset. Still her feet moved forward of their own accord, not stopping again until they'd reached what had once been a temple door, but now only led into a tiny cave. And if one ducked to get past the gate into the enclosure, it made not too shabby of a camping spot for the night, if a little rocky. In that moment it didn't matter how comfortable it was, as it meant the chance to finally rest and recover some. "Get some sleep," Ash breathed out in a sigh of relief of her own, finally taking the chance to sit down nearer to the makeshift doorway, keeping the business end of her rifle trained on the opening. For now... All she could do was try to plan ahead, and eventually try to get a few hours of sleep in herself if it would come to her. - Shit had gone from bad to hell in a hand basket all in a single pull of a trigger. A sound that he still heard in his head as loud and clear as if it were playing on repeat. It was like one of those moments where you just knew that something very bad had happened and you didn't know why...but you felt it in the pit of your gut. Something had gone wrong...and in a place like this – you had to know what had gone wrong before all the other domino's started to fall out of place. It had started with the two girls already, having jostled their way out to some half assed idea of freedom that could end at any single moment in time. And from there it had all just slowly been crumbling down around them, like a crack in a glass container full of cold water it just seemed to spread and splinter and leak until finally the pressure over came the compromised container and it all shattered apart and you had to replace all the floor boards. Benny didn't even wanna think about that one. Because if there were things that needed to be replaced it was the bodies in positions that couldn't bring about the right results – bodies that the big boss knew he wouldn't miss and he would enjoy removing personally. One body was displayed on the broad of his back, the red hulking mass of muscles and bulging veins and shot nerves. Vaas the undefeated force of rage and fire and destruction... dropped down by one little girl with a gun. If it sounded like a shock ...it was. But Benny couldn't allow himself to be shocked, he wasn't one to question any woman's competence when she had a mighty need to survive and protect the ones she loved. Benny knew better then to look down on any woman in any situation like that. He might have been bigger, faster, stronger just as Vaas was... but survival was a lot stronger then any man was. Benny knew of women who had killed for less done to them then what had already been done to that girl...he knew that Vaas had been lucky to come out the end of it. Even if he didn't feel so lucky right now...Benny knew that he knew that it could have ended a whole lot worse for him. A whole lot worse. But now this only meant it could only get that much more worse for those girls as a consequence. You didn't just shoot the boss and skip off into the sunset together...the boss was going to have his vengeance in one of many unsavory ways and in no particular order either. Benny respected the play of the cards in this case... after all it wasn't like Vaas didn't have it coming. It wasn't like any of them didn't have it come in...and sure as hell they all deserved what those girls did and would do to them. Karma was a bitch like that. He just hoped that he could save himself some of the pain and mutilation that was gonna come to all of em very soon. But for now he had other things to worry about, for now those girls had won and he hoped that they found a place to hide and hide there well...cause no man was gonna sleep tonight. For now Benny's only objective was to reach the Cliffside Overlook and get man on his should down onto a cot before he bled to death. Vaas' sudden screaming only urged the his pirate lackey to move through the jungle far more quickly, cutting clean across the grasslands and tufts of tree's to the pillar of smoke that slowly but surely grew larger on the the horizon. He felt the man he carry jerk suddenly and the American had almost lost his grip on his wrist in the process as he jumped down the small incline into the beginnings of a canyon with rock structures lining a still moist, but dried river bed of a darker colored mud and hurrying down the pathway it cut across the earth he growled as he adjusted Vaas and tightened his grip. “Fucking stop!” Benny snapped, the strain clear in his voice as he hobbled the short distance to the north end of the canyon where it opened up back into the lushness of the jungle and the road split apart by a sturdy wooden bridge. Practically leaping up the embankment the American hustler hurried down across the bridge and veered off the road to cut across the clearing of only a few tree's that lead him straight to another much less traveled road that winded upwards and curved right into the waiting camp. The Cliffside Overlook wasn't a particularly sturdy built camp consisting only of the typical red doored shack, a few scrap vehicles, an ineffective sheet metal fence line and an unfinished and ruined cement building to tie it all together in a filthy, post humanity, ramshackle display. Hardly what one would consider an unbowed fortress but they always did say never to judge a book by it's cover. Quickly as he appeared in sight was the sniper's red aim dead set upon him before he realized he was one of their own and the look of sheer horror on his face when he recognized the freakishly large mass attached to their fellow brethren stirred the sniper into action, calling out to the rest for attention. “Ey! The boss is hurt you assholes go get the medkit!” The sniper yelled as Benny huffed and hobbled the last length towards the red door which a different pirate with an AK in hand promptly opened for him. The inside was dusty and dank and no place for a wounded patient at all...but it would just have to do for now and mercilessly he dropped Vaas down upon the cot on the inside and barely managed to avoid the sucker punch that came very soon afterward. “Yo!” Benny yelled towards the door, “Get your asses in here and hold him down! Get me anything sharp, bandages, and fishing wire!” The America commanded as the little red rats scurried in the sudden excitement that had befallen them. “Who did dis?” Droned the voice of a heavy gunner as he easily pushed the raving Rakyat back down into his bed with mild force at that. “Ain't got time for that man.” Benny replied as he snatched and dug through what sad little first aid kit that had appeared, “Shit...” He breathed as he looked down at that ever increasing wet spot upon Vaas' abdomen, “Better get the booze too...” If there was any skill that Benny had ever picked up in his life that was even remotely useful...it was how to dig into a body and stop what ever was bleeding from bleeding as much. In the army he had seen a lot of worse things...men's legs blasted clean off by land mines, others missing half their jaws from a whole lot of good aim and bad luck. In the battlefield the doctors weren't there...and sometimes a brother wasn't going to make it back to them without help right then and there. So all soldiers had to learn what to cut and sewn and burn and tie off just well enough to buy their comrade just enough time to make it to help and safety. It wasn't any different now as it was back then...just the scenery had changed. And deep down in his bones Benny knew...he knew that this world was better off without this kid raving around in it. He knew that he should have left him right here to die in a pool of his own blood and save those two girls a lot of pain and suffering... Benny knew and he wanted to just reach in with his knife and slice open an artery or his spleen or finish whatever job the bullet hadn't managed to do on it way through... he wanted too but he couldn't. He wouldn't. Because while he loathed Vaas with all his soul... Vaas was just the tip of the iceberg and Hoyt wouldn't so much as blink if he was gone. No...Hoyt would just install a newer version to rule this island...and Benny didn't want any part of that noise. So as Vaas screamed and fought his own men who fought to keep him still Benny did was a proud American soldier always did – he helped his comrade. But he was no surgeon nor a doctor...but he didn't need those brains to know by looking at it that Vaas was going to need more then his Frankenstein needlework to make it back from this. He was gonna need a doctor soon or sepsis would kill him in a week. At point point Vaas had quieted down he assumed in shock of some kind...which was just unavoidable really but he had faith in the Rakyat to pull out of it on his own and it wasn't until all the bodies had dispersed to patrol the camp for invaders come to finish the job that Benny finally allowed himself to finally breath as he wiped his bloody hands on his pants. Vaas would life for now...for a little while – that was all that really mattered in the end but when he finally stood up and kicked aside the empty medkit he chuckled as she shook his head and produced from his pocket his phone. “You aren't gonna believe this.” He said, touching his ear as he turned and trained the small device upon Vaas' lying shape upon the cot, “Look what she did to him...I don't know whether she's brave or stupid.” The door swung open as if to respond and quietly cursing Benny hide away his phone just as the lanky shape of another familiar face emerged through the doorway with his face shielded by a red bandana but missing the sunglasses that hid his slanted eyes. It was hard to think of such a young kid like him being Vaas' right hand... but then again...it was no different with Doug either. You think he was the most lazy useless fuck to ever grace the island until he was beating faces red on command. Carlos and Doug were a type all in the same, outwardly they looked harmless...but they were the most poisonous snakes on the island. And that was exactly why Vaas kept them around. “Tā huì zhù zài nǎlǐ?” The boy chimed, looking expectantly at Benny who for the most part didn't understand a word of shit that kid was saying to him. “English motherfucker.” Benny replied blankly as he slowly blinked and earned himself some Chinese insult that only sounded like noise to him. “He lives?” Carlos repeated slowly in heavy and thick accent. “Yes he'll live...” Benny replied calmly as Carlos nodded and mumbled something else mainly to himself before he looked suddenly in Benny's direction again. “Jiang Shi?” Benny only sighed as he looked long and hard at the almost faceless man as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Uh...undead?” Carlos replied with some difficulty and a stutter in his words. Benny chuckled as he shook his head again, “Yeah. That bitch got him good.” The America informed as he glanced over Vaas' shape again still utterly amazed that such a big man could be rolled by a much smaller girl – karma really was just a bitch. “So what do we do now uh right hand?” He asked as Carlos looked at him with even more slanted eyes, slowly processing his words through his terribly redneck accent of his own. “Mauve.” Carlos replied after a brief pause and Benny felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach at the thought, “Is he really necessary?” Benny replied cautiously but tried with all his might to not think about the man called Mauve. Carlos merely gestured to Vaas as if the sight of he alone was answer enough as he turned and wrenched open the red door again and Benny sighed as he made for it. “I'ma get some beers.” He added as he pushed past the skinny Asian and out into the humid jungle air. “Yo fuckers! Couple of y'all go find Mauve. Carlos' orders!” That thing he had said earlier about things getting worse? Well... they'd just gotten very worse for everyone involved. - Some things in life, suffice it to say, were just complete bullshit. Getting shot in the gut point blank by an escaped slave was most definitely one of those things, no questions about it. Only after the fact did Vaas fully understand the looks the two girls had been exchanging, and realized he'd read them completely wrong. That look Blondie had been giving Red wasn't anything even close to Do what he wants so he won't hurt me. No, it had flat out been a silent plea to shoot her captor where he stood. And Red had taken it a step further than just that, dangling his falsified victory right in front of his nose before yanking it away to instead deal more of that pain she so liked to dish out. With the immediate shock beginning to wear off now it was becoming more and more evident just how bad the situation really was. Vaas, who walked off injuries that killed the average man in minutes, found himself unable to push himself back to his feet and barely even able to keep his eyes from closing. This was not an injury to simply walk off, and it left him wholly reliant on Benny to get him somewhere that wasn't here. On some level he knew the American was trying to save his life by hauling him up onto his shoulders, and yet that animal instinct part of him only reacted to how badly everything hurt. "Follar bajarme, fuck," Vaas snarled in little more than a guttural rasp, unable to even attempt to ignore the agony with the uneven gait of Benny's run on the jungle floor. She was an unforgiving bitch at the best of times, and it was no different now that one who practically ruled everything on the north island was less than his best. And though none of that was Benny's fault, it didn't stop the onslaught of curses and dark promises of pain to come being hurled at him in the throes of the agonizingly rough trip. Fortunately for the man in question, the words were nothing more than that with how valuable an asset Benny had always been. While not every single pirate under Vaas' rule was completely idiotic, he would have doubted that very many of them would have had the presence of mind to do as Benny was. The entirety of the trek back to the outpost was nothing more than a red-hued haze of moving colors and too much jostling for Vaas, filled with the sounds of his own swearing and muffled voices of his men as they neared the outpost. As he lifted his head to survey his surroundings the haze cleared only long enough to realize he was being laid out on a cot in the dingy outpost shack, surrounded by a number of his men he couldn't possibly hope to count in his disconnected state. His head might have been off in the clouds in a shock-induced state, but there was still that animal instinct of his that spurred his body to lash out at the first splash of antiseptic that turned the powerful ache of the wound back into a blaze of pain. It wasn't as though Vaas had never been injured and needed medical attention before; far from it. Plenty of times he'd been on the wrong end of a rebel's gun, or in one case at the wrong end of a shopkeep's shotgun after he'd poked that particular bear one too many times. But this one... Fired point blank, muzzle of the gun pressed right into his skin before the trigger got pulled in a clean through-and-through shot. What all it had damaged Vaas didn't exactly know, only that this was going to need better attention than his men could give once morning came. Not to mention one or two of the boys who'd held him down for Benny to work now needed a little attention of their own after having caught the brunt of his thrashing limbs. In the aftermath it all wasn't quite so bad anymore. Benny had made sure to force booze into his mouth, and from there the rest was history. A little more than halfway through a second rather large bottle of rum and Vaas was finally beginning to relax again in a pain and booze-fueled stupor, eyes blankly staring up at the ceiling as he continued to work his way through his bottle. "No fucking way they're city," He slurred under his breath before taking another long pull off the bottle. This much he was certain of by now- neither of those girls came from any city. City girls didn't know how to turn into animals like that, and city girls didn't pick up guns and start shooting men down. Red and Blondie were something else entirely, and Citra had seen that too without a doubt. Otherwise neither of them would have made it out of the temple in one piece, not to mention even given a shiny new rifle. "Fuck." With a wordless growl Vaas let his head fall back against the balled-up blanket serving for a pillow, eyes again wandering upward to stare at nothing and blink slowly at the ceiling. All at once he blinked and found himself back in his little shack at the prison camp, right where he'd left off with Red herself at the precise moment she'd leaned forward to press her lips to his. Even distracted as he was, somewhere in Vaas' head he dimly noticed the ruined green shirt Sorcha wore was as it had been last time he saw her, all stained with blood both fresh and not. Here it didn't matter, and it mattered even less when he stripped the stained garment off her to toss somewhere else. When exactly he'd lost his own shirt he wasn't sure, but it saved him the task of pulling it off himself. One hand rose to tangle itself in her hair that had fallen loose at some point unknown to Vaas while the other went straight to the prize waiting beneath her skirt, only for the pirate to freeze suddenly. Red's hands were busy as well, having worked their way past his belt while one hand dipped down below that and in an instant he forced the girl off him and onto her back with a snarl. "I know what the fuck you're up to. You ain't getting me with that bullshit again." To his utter confusion, Sorcha smiled in response like he'd said something that struck her as funny. "Look at you," She purred in a voice so obviously not her own, one that made unpleasant emotions real their ugly heads from where Vaas had shoved them away. "So big, strong, powerful..." Again Vaas forced himself away from the girl, this time with a desperation that hadn't been there before as he swore harshly under his breath. As if nothing was wrong Sorcha simply followed after him, still wearing the same smile that so reminded him of one he wanted to just forget. "Shhh... I am helping you." In her hand suddenly was a knife, carved from bone and etched beautifully in designs Vaas knew by heart, and yet it was a knife he'd gladly taken and destroyed years ago. Inhumanly fast Sorcha lunged forward, again so she was straddling his lap as she brought the knife down into his left eye. With a whole body jolt that set the wound to aching again Vaas woke, eyes wide as he found nothing but the tiny shack around him and the welcome feel of the rum bottle still in his hand. "FUCK that shit." Ignoring the ache this time he propped himself up on one elbow to chug the rest of the contents, welcoming the burn of the alcohol as it went down and even more welcoming of the numbness that would follow. Waiting for him up on the table nearby was yet another bottle, if he could just sit up to get it... Better yet, he noticed, was the little black radio someone had left next to it. With a grimace he leaned forward enough to get his fingers around the device, bringing that back to his cot first before sitting a little further to get his third bottle and flop ungracefully back to his spot. Somehow, he knew Red had kept that radio she'd borrowed from that heavy gunner. How exactly Vaas knew, he didn't know, but he did anyway. Red liked to taunt and she liked to hurt, and she'd gone through the trouble to get it off that pirate... Hadn't he even seen her carrying it? Even if they weren't listening now, they would be. The radio towers made sure the pirates' radios didn't lose signal no matter where they were on the island. And wherever those girls had found to crash for the night, Vaas honestly hoped they were just as comfortable as he was. "Hey, nenas," He rasped into the radio, pausing to clear his throat before continuing. "You found somewhere to sleep, yeah? I hope so. Because as soon as I am up again we are all gonna play, ok? And you are gonna need a lot of energy for that." Again he stopped, this time to pry the seal off his new bottle to discard the cork, throwing it elsewhere in the shack. He wouldn't need it anyway; this one was going to wind up empty just the same as its predecessors. "It's my fucking island. Mine. You think you can hide from me forever, uh? Crees que no te puedo encontrar? Yeah... No one ever tried that before. I always find them. And you... I got a special eye out for you. I hope you sleep good tonight. You'd better." - Overall it would have gone better then how it had gone. And it also could have gone a whole lot worse. Because if there was any fact of the matter here? It was that Vaas was a machine. An insensitive, wordless, and powerful machine when it called for it – concerned only with the glitch in it's system and or the failure in one of his circuits. Every man knew that he could tear their head's damn near clean off their necks if they let him, if he was mad enough. That was why they all kept their distance from him when he was put into compromise – usually that didn't save any of them anyway but they acted out of self preservation. The men that held him down against the cot all knew that he might just get up in two hours and come hunting for their ballsacks for doing him like they did, that was why the population of the outpost had dwindled down to just a few meandering bodies with AR's nestled against reeking red shirts by the time to sun had sunk down below the horizon. Because no matter how much you helped Vaas, no matter how good your intentions, he would still come after you to remind everyone and you that he wasn't weak. And with these last few days being rough – Vaas was going to come down on all of them even harder then usual, because he was angry, because he knew his reputation had been torn apart, and there was nothing so bad as a crazy man with a busted up ego. The King would do what the King did best – what he always did that got him to where he was in the first place. And if he couldn't get this hands around the necks of a few pretty American girls then it was gonna be all his men that would be the next best thing. Benny imagined he would be the first victim so Benny did what the crafty son of a bitch that he was always did – he pandered to the wants of the crazy kid before he even knew what he was wanting to begin with. After all Benny hadn't been here for a decade and lived because of his charming good looks. So he has pushed a thick brown bottle into the pirate's hands while he lied there, sliding slowly into shock on that cot after the haphazard medical attempts that left him looking worse then before. Benny knew Vaas well enough to know that when things like this happened? When shit just didn't go right, when the kid was hurting, that the only way to smother the the snarling beast was to drown him with the good stuff, the kinda stuff that made him forget why he cared in the first place. The good stuff in this case happened to be a crate of Rum – ironic really. But it was Vaas' poison in the end and hell be damned if he didn't accept the smooth to touch and sexy sort of sleek object as a personal apology from the ex-soldier who sat across from him in a rickety old chair nursing a beer of his own through the first bottle – if only to make sure the boy didn't choke on the stuff. The first bottle disappeared quickly and the second had been promptly passed to him and like a babe in the crib Vaas nursed this bottle absently, as the shock of what had happened to him finally took hold. It was something that couldn't be avoided really but it wasn't like he hadn't been here before. And each time Vaas just had to be left alone to process through the overload of emotions and triggers and crazy. So Benny had taken his leave eventually, about halfway through that second bottle, and emerged out into the humid outside to find Carlos seated upon a munition's crate as he contemplated the face if his phone. Slowly Benny had approached and looked downward upon the device who's name read “Big Boss” and quickly Benny stole the phone from the masked Asian's hands. “He don't need to know.” Benny stated, waving the phone in a sort of scolding gesture at the seventeen year old. “He do.” Carlos argued, slanted eyes closing slightly in agitation. “Boss got enough of a shitstorm coming his way, if Hoyt's gonna hear it from anyone it's gonna be from him, we mind our business – did we find Mauve?” Quietly the Asian shook his head, and Benny growled in was seemed like annoyance but really it was relief. The last thing any of them needed was to suffer the presence of that particular beast. And at the very least...tonight would be quiet for once. - The Library will be closing in ten minutes. Her chest heaved as she lifted up from the warmed surface of paper and black typeface. Amber eyes blinked open and wandered the scene before her, a familiar sight of the college library top floor. A spacious display of white matte walls and wooden tables and rows of towering bookcases and computers that lined the wall. Sudden relief washed over her as her fingers shot up to touch upon her chest , finding only smooth uninterrupted skin that was just slightly erect in the chill of the library so late at night. No grotesque wound threatening to scar and no pain as she lifted and moved her arm freely, a feeling that she'd all too quickly forgotten what it was like. She blinked again as she groaned, fingertips sliding across her eyelids as she jostled her thin reading glasses sideways upon her face. “God...” She grumbled, shaking her head as her eyes trained over the rims of her glasses upon the book she'd made good use of as a pillow that laid out mercilessly on it's spin on the table. Fingers fluttered through the pages of exotic beaches and old carvings of jades and bronzes and old ships and cloudy dragons in the sky as she turned the book to close. History of Southeast Asia The title had read and she sighed deeply, taking in the scenery again. Had it all just been one bad dream after another? The library will be closing in five minutes The announcement rang out again and quietly she remembered where she was and why she was here, here was where she came to study after classes and as part of a requirement a History class was a part of that roster. It all seemed so long ago, so unnatural and strange to sit here back in civilization where people didn't walk around with guns and and knives. It was almost foreign even. And as she leaned back in her chair she looked upon the title of the textbook again as the Malaysian and Spanish character reformed in her mind. Those darkened eyes that almost looked yellow and the smell of harsh cigarettes and sweat. The feel of his rough hands and the hardness of his body...and the sound of his voice. He seemed so real... all of it felt so real and yet – it was all fading away into a hazy blur of images and colors and sounds and dialogue that you knew was said but couldn’t remember. At one moment it was reality and the next it all blew away like fine grains of sand, lost into the folds of memory to be forgotten and stored away but always bode the chance to be jostled free by the right trigger. But there was no forgetting him, that man called Vaas. That was a face and a voice, a man real or fiction that would be with her forever and as her phone suddenly buzzed to life again – reminding her for the umpteenth time that it required her attention lured her out of her thoughts and sliding the thin device across the table into her digits she rose from the uncomfortable plastic chair and gathered up her books and packed them all away in the same routine she always did, the big ones first then the notebooks and the smaller books in front. And at the end she was left with a bag that felt as heavy as an elephant and a reminder to see the chiropractor again as she shuffled quickly out of the library before the staff went for their daggers. Outside she addressed her phone as the fall heat blazed upon her skin and the stink of the bayou crept into her nostrils as she weaved through the long arms of the campus willow tree to cut across to the street to get back home. Her hear sank in her chest to find eleven text from her mother waiting for her, each one consisting of various different and creative ways to ask her just where in the hell she was. And sighing she shook her head as she punched the digital letters to smooth her mother's worry with a simple 'Sorry, fell asleep in the library, going home now. I'm fine.' I'm fine. Famous last words those were and she just had to wonder if she really was all that fine... if she was able to create the devils that she had in that dream of hers. Just the very idea that they were figments of her own mind left her feeling uneasy as she shambled down the sidewalk to catch the last street car of the night that would take her relatively close to her residence, where she assumed Ash and Scha'tzi were at that very moment – both no doubt also wondering just where she was. Hurrying down the street the muggy air was almost suffocating as she breathed out in mild frustration of the heavy load on her shoulder and the heat making the process harder then it needed to be. At the corner she saw the familiar street lamp...flickering tonight for dear life to which she grumbled. Being out alone at night around here was one challenge, being alone on the street in the dark was a whole different sort of beast. And coming to stop at the corner her phone buzzed again with knew life in her hand and idly she lifted it, the bright light from the screen forcing her to squint at the new text. 'Hey~ how about the Philippines for graduation?' She felt her lips begin to part as she stared at that dark haired face smiling away in his contact picture. “Brian...” She whispered, feeling a cold stiffness in her chest to look at him in what felt like an eternity ago as images of his bloodied body ran through her might with a new vengeance and the guilt followed suit as the figure of another body ambled up the sidewalk to come to stand at her side as respectable distance. And all at once she began to feel uneasy where she stood...as if the ground had tilted diagonal as her knee's buckled slightly as the street car puttered by at a slow, unnatural pace. New Orleans was knowing for its colorful attractions, and those trolleys were no exception....except for this one that glided by like a ghost and shell of its former glory. Covered in rust and jagged sheet metal edges and broken in head lights as the street lamp suddenly flicked into a neon purple sort of hue, casting an ultraviolet glow onto the red spray painted letters scrawled across the tram's broken up body. Hunt. Fuck. Kill. The tags read as the vehicle screeched by and her bag slipped from her shoulders. Looking down at her feet she began to drown in her thoughts again as a wetness spread across her clothes and the fatal white glow of markings etched into her skin drew her attention to her arm and the blazing feathers of the phoenix burned into her eyes and the smell of cigarettes invaded her senses. Her jaw tightened as the red blotch on her chest continued to spread down the whiteness of her tank top, turning it crimson, as she turned her head slowly to find the taller, lean shape of the man who'd come up the sidewalk earlier. He stood there in jeans and boots and a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled over his head. She watched him tensely as he plucked his cigarette from his lips and exhaled a slow pillar of smoke as he flicked the ash and embers to the sidewalk at his feet. “Hola cariño...” He finally spoke as he tilted his head to leer past his hood at her with a knowing grin, eyes yellow in the neon light, “Did you really think you were safe here?” Amber eyes snapped open in the darkness at the sound of his voice reverberating upon the dank cave walls as her head snapped upwards to find him....but in the dark was almost impossible. Her chest hammered as she breathed quickly and shallowly, a new wave of sickness overtaking her as the pain in her bones left her paralyzed upon the hard ground. As her eyes darted around he continued to speak through static so calm and alarmingly gentle as the sleep was banished from her eyes. Silently she listened as she found Ash's dim frame in the darkness that did little to hide the fear on her face before she realized where the static was coming from. And swallowing hard Sorcha's trembling digits slid down to find the plastic casing of the two way radio she'd taken from a very unfortunate pirate earlier in the day and pulled the clip free from the hem of her cargo pants. The little red button in the darkness was all she could see as if flickered green with each incoming message from the demon of her dreams and each word he spoke chilled her blood just a little bit more. Did you really think you were safe here? He whispered in her ear over and over again and she found Ash in the darkness again as she held the radio above her chest with trembling hands. This place was no dream...no matter how badly she wished it to be...this as reality right here...and reality wasn't about to cease to be either. And part of her knew the second she pulled the trigger that things would become so much worse then the worse they were already in...but she had no one to blame but herself for it. - The crackle of the radio was all that it took to draw back the attention of all his men who had forgotten about their misplaced boss by now. And it was the slow purr of his voice that had interrupted the conversation being held just outside the shack in which he rested and quietly Benny leered down at the radio he wore on his belt, realizing the boss was away...and the stupid kind of drunk too boot. The kinda drunk where shit got said that should never had gotten said...and where true emotions reared their ugly heads. And even though he sounded calm...they all knew he was anything but. Booze might have helped him to unwind himself from the thread splitting knots he was always in...but it didn't do nothing for how he really felt at the end of the day....just candy coated it. And quickly Benny was off his crate and stalking towards that little red door with Carlos on his heels. - It always was the best-laid plans that went astray. In this case, the plan had been for Ash to stay awake with her borrowed rifle trained on the entrance to the little cave. Sorcha needed what precious hours of sleep she could get, and in that time it seemed logical that the other should keep watch for safety's sake. While it didn't seem likely that the pirates would find them here, one never knew what surprises this place was just waiting to spring on them. If whatever had been prowling about down by the road was still on the hunt for a meal, it would have found a very easy one in the two exhausted women tucked away in the cave. But for all of maybe thirty minutes Ash had managed to keep her eyes on the door way, all the while doing her best to ignore the hunger and thirst that were beginning to nag at her now that she'd allowed herself a moment of some rest. That on top of the fatigue and soon the blonde's head had leaned back to rest against the wall she'd propped her back against, eyes closing of their own accord. Let your instincts guide you. The words again ringing in her head as clearly as if they'd been spoken in her ear, Ash's eyes snapped open again and immediately she brought a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun beating down on her face. As her eyes adjusted the surroundings slowly became more clear; the steep drop of the cliff to her right, the thick grass that in some places gave way to drier terrain and the slope of the ground that led out to the tiny beach below. Altogether the place was completely unfamiliar, and yet somehow it felt as though it was exactly where Ash needed to be. Blinking back the remaining effects of the light she pushed herself up to her feet to peer over the edge of the cliff and out at the ground below her. The beach was actually smaller than it had appeared before, the vast majority of the coast made up of huge rocks in this part and the sand only making up the spaces between some of them before stretching out in the opposite direction. A glance behind her, however, proved to have even less to offer with the impossibly thick trees blocking access to anything beyond the cliff and beach. Like some kind of video game, ham-fistedly telling her This is the way you have to go, not that way. “Perfect...” She muttered, eyes drawn again to the beach as she spoke. The largest of the rocks there extended out a ways into the crashing surf, and strangely enough it felt for all the world like that was where Ash needed to go next. “It's just a rock though...” Still her feet moved forward, traveling down the incline to the sandier ground as she made her way for the largest rock. Several times she nearly sent herself tumbling down the rugged formations, having placed her feet in spots where the waves had crashed hard enough to soak the area, but eventually it only became a matter of getting to the top of the largest rock. The goal finally reached, Ash straightened to look around better... and found nothing. This was where she'd needed to be, she was sure of it, but on all outward appearances it looked to be a completely ordinary, run of the mill rock. “Then what the hell...?” Ash sighed and threw her hands to the air in frustration, letting them simply fall back to her side after to minor outburst. Hey, nenas. That voice... In a panic now Ash whirled on her heel to find the man belonging to the voice, in the process losing her balance as the world seemed to tilt beneath her feet. In an instant there was only air in place of the solid surface as she fell to the water below, only briefly noticing in her fall that the front of the rock she'd fallen from was black and echoed her scream back to her. Before she could register exactly why this was she hit the water hard enough to stun her, and closed her eyes against the sting of salt water. When she opened them again she was back in the tiny cave... But Vaas was still talking. The flutter of panic now returning Ash raised the rifle at the cave opening, finding nothing there and the talking continuing from inside the cave. “Wha...? Oh...” At the sight of the radio in Sorcha's hands Ash quieted, listening intently to the message the pirate king was broadcasting for their benefit. It was all completely intended to scare them, to unnerve them into making mistakes and become easier to catch in the short term. The worst was knowing it wasn't just empty words- I always find them. Whoever those unfortunate souls had been who'd been caught again, they'd made the man confident in himself to the point that the thought of failure simply did not exist. Altogether it sat just fine with Ash- failure was very rarely a word that ever made its way into her vocabulary as well. And with the situation at hand, to fail was to simply die if they wound up that lucky. Being taken alive would without a doubt be the absolute worst possible scenario, and it meant that just as it was not an option for Vaas to fail... It wasn't for the girls either. But still, one thought nagged at Ash uncomfortably more than any other, even after Vaas' radio message had reached a point of silence. "You don't think he's going to find us all the way up here, do you...?" She murmured, managing to find Sorcha's face in the darkness of the cave. - Though he still had much more to say, as Vaas so often did once he'd gotten started, a much more pressing need had taken hold and that was to take several more long pulls off his bottle of rum. The burn of the alcohol going down did little to completely soothe the dulled pain radiating from his abdomen still, but it did make it much harder to pay attention to said pain. Anything was better than being left to the mercy of his subconscious anyway, even if it was only trying to distract himself from the now. What made it even easier to do was talking, though just as Vaas had raised the radio back to do exactly that the door to the outpost was flung open again. "Benny, hermano," He greeted with a leering grin, raising the entire bottle to wave rather than release it for even a moment. "Oh fuck." He swore under his breath as the neck dipped dangerously close to spilling his precious booze all over the grimy outpost floor. "What got you looking so upset uh? You worried? Oh shit, I didn't even see Carlos. How are you tonight uh?" - She'd stared at that red button for ages it felt like. One bright gleaming color in the darkness of a cold and hard hole she'd crawled into like some wounded animal that thought it had escaped the predator that had bitten it. But she'd done nothing more then corner herself here, she and Ash both. In a place like this... tight and enclosed spaces were the last places anyone wanted to be with a meandering army and psycho on the prowl. Movement was what counted in a place like this and the freedom to do it. But who could blame the animal for seeking out shelter in the storm? To run and hide was what had been taught to them since childhood when a bad man was in the midst. And by habit they did just that when any danger was afoot, remove themselves from sight. But the phrase 'out of sight out of mind' rarely applied...if at all. Keeping out of sight was a bother, a bother that would drive the mind into wild and dark places the longer they stayed underground. A sort of bother that didn't smooth over well with a man just like Vaas – who was self aware that he could not even think about allowing them to truly escape. But rather then admit it to himself...instead he made it into a little game that they didn't even know they were playing – a game called Tag. And if that red little button was any indicator then so was his voice that purred over the radio waves. Sweet little words and a pleasant tone that couldn't have been any more poisonous even if he'd swallowed bleach. This was just the first grope for a hold upon them, the ultimate warning before the attack – like a tigers growl or the hiss of a snake. He was reminding them that he was still there...out there, waiting and watching. Reminding them that no matter how hard they tried there was no victory waiting at the finish line for them because they had already lost. No matter where they hid...he would find them eventually. No matter what they did – there was no one here to help them. And once he found them...and he would find them... then they would know what true hell was and what happened to disobedient little girls. And when the red button blinked off to signal the closure of the feed Sorcha was left to struggle for breath against the incessant aching and the thundering of her heart in her chest. Left to think long and hard about what to do next. And the last thing she wanted was to be sitting in darkness. Cringing she'd turned onto her side, quiet as she forced the mechanisms of her body to twist and turn and bend unwillingly against the pain and the exhaustion. Like rusted hinges they all most an inch at a time until the muscles had relaxed and shaking she drew up to her feet knowing well that their moment of rest was now over. They had to keep moving if they were ever going to make it to this doctors house at the other side of this hellish island. But in the thicket of the jungle and at their permission of the predators in it...it seemed almost an impossible feat for two scared city slick girls with a couple of guns and a little ammo left. But what was really worse? Being eaten by some savage beast, bitten by a snake or spider, impaled by boars in the pursuit of survival and help? Or giving up to be taken back into the thick, veined arms of a wild eyed junkie on a power trip and a bruised ego? She couldn't speak for Ash...but Sorcha preferred the elements to man any day. Even if she couldn't make it...she had to try to and if she tried hard enough she would crawl through that doctors doorstep. But staying here on neutral ground and standing wasn't in their best interests right now. What was in their interest was to put more land between they and him and all his own. The time to rest was for later...when they were safe. And right now they were not safe. “He can and he will if we stay here.” Sorcha replied grimly, though it was the last thing she wanted to do... but it was so much worse to give false hope. The fact was there was more of him then there were them and Sorcha ventured to guess that at least a percentage of them were smart enough to use tracking skills. They might have been smugglers and traffickers and dealers but they'd all made a home here in some degree, a hostile takeover by the looks of things, they knew these parts – knew them a lot better then two American girls. Sighing she limped across the cave floor and emerged out into the milky blue light of a high moon above the canopy that shined down in silver rays onto the jungle floor, pulling her tattered, stained, and stinking with sweat over shirt off. It still bore the rip through the fabric and the deep, disgusting, greenish brown stain from her own blood on it's front as she twisted the sleeves around her hands for a moment. Anyone would have throw it away but she held onto it...a sordid reminder of events that she'd forgotten. And coiling the garnet she wiped the sweat from her neck with it and tied it around her waist after. She'd thought it had been hot during the day...the night felt five times worse and looking around the jungle scape she could hear the howls of the animals hiding inside of it. Monkey's yowled and bellowed, but the birds were silent, while other inexplicable things sang and shouted. Some where there was a growl that could only have belonged to a larger cat and quietly she stepped back beneath the cave's stony eave for a moment as she fumbled for the radio clipped to the hem of her pants. “We have to leave...” She informed her blonde companion as she raised the radio to her lips with an idea, but looked at the girl to stop judging her. It was better that they gained a head start while he was down and out...even if he meant to frighten them Sorcha knew pain when she heard it...and the gravel of his tone was an obvious sign that he had been lying down for his entire message. - The sight of the pirate king was ...something to behold. To put it gently. The mangled bundle of nerves and blood shot eyes from rage and eyes so dark it was like he was missing them entirely. He looked even more a lunatic then usual...like a crackhead in need of another hit. And Benny knew that was exactly what he was in need of. It'd been hours since his last hit on the boulder...and Vaas was already down to about forty five minutes in between so he knew, they all knew he was on the edge. He could see the sweat dripping down his skin and the quiver in his limbs, that hiding desperation in his eyes all masked and dulled by the poison in his hand. Vaas was already on his third bottle of sweet and bitter stinging rum – the only reason the man was as docile as he was. Because ironically enough...the boss was an angel when he was intoxicated – but when he was high? He was a walking hazard. Benny found him, like a child caught being naughty trying to grin it all away even though he was making the situation so much worse. And if Benny knew something...he knew enemy actions. They didn't have to worry about those girls coming for them in the middle of the night...but they did have to worry about them getting farther away. Because that was what fear did to people who felt like they had no way out. And crossing the cabin he snatched the radio from Vaas' hand, never mind it was like prying a toy from a two year old and sighed as he leaned back against the edge of the table, hooking his knee over the corner as Carlos snaked into the cabin as well. “We don't know where they are Boss. And you keep taunting them.” Benny stated, the radio loose in his fingers as he removed his yellow shaded sunglasses for once in not often enough. “Now they gonna run even farther and we're not gonna be able to follow after them because you gotta do see Dr. E in the morning.” Not that parenting Vaas was ever really effective but Benny did hate it when the best laid plans went awry, and loosing those girls was not a loss he was willing to have on his record – not with his real boss who was counting on him to corral them in the right direction so they could survive this place with some sort of dignity. Carlos, the right hand, was silent of course – never being a man of many words until those words were truly needed and quietly he crossed the room to inspect the bloody bandages and choppy stitch work hiding underneath with a frustrated sigh. “Jiangshi must pay.” He stated, leering past his own sunglasses to his mentor left for dead on that cot by some uppity American slave girl, “Jiangshi will pay.” “What the hell does that even mean?” Benny questioned as the radio crackled to life in his hand sudden. ”Good luck.”Her voice rasped with pain and sleep and exhaustion that made his blood run cold. “It mean....undead.” Carlos replied, where truer words had never been more spoken. - Sorcha paused then at the mouth of the cave from a pace she had settled into just long enough to deliver her disobedient and rebellious message to Vaas and anyone else who was listening. Waiting patiently for the desired effect that she hoped it would earn her...assuming he had passed out or died anyway. “Don't look at me like that.” She growled towards Ashley as she cradled the radio against her chest to muffle any impending sounds so that any other radios in the area would be far louder and unintentionally give way all positions of any pirates in their area. - Even with Benny's warnings, Vaas could only snort his amusement, shrug and take another long pull off his bottle. "Don't matter if they run, Benito," He chuckled almost good-naturedly as he paused to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. As was often the case with liquor it had made Vaas a little more sloppy than usual, very nearly pouring some of his rum onto the floor again in a sweeping gesture of his arm that very nearly toppled him off his cot. "Where the fuck they gonna go uh? Where they gonna run to? You know where they got to go? Some bullshit little hiding places, yeah- on MY fucking island. Plus now I know what bitch smells like." He snickered at his own joke that neither of these men would get- hell, Vaas himself didn't exactly know why he found it so funny, couldn't even remember why the phrase was in his head- and began to raise the bottle again when the radio crackled back to life. In an instant Vaas had frozen, eyes going just a little bit wild at the sound of Sorcha's voice coming through. Good luck. Good luck? "Who the fuck this bitch think she is?" With the visceral rage beginning to bubble up despite the thick blanket of alcohol in his system, he managed only a strangled whisper, and something distinctly not right had set into his eyes. "Gimme the fucking-" Immediately Vaas was lurching forward, barely managing to stay on his feet but succeeding in ripping the radio from Benny's hands to clench in his own. The rum bottle was quickly forgotten to clatter to the floor and spill the contents across the dirty concrete, but either Vaas didn't notice or didn't care. He was already lost in making his drunken fingers work the talk button on the device, swearing under his breath until he'd finally achieved his goal of making himself heard. "You think you're fucking smart? Uh?" He demanded, swatting absentmindedly at Benny to keep him from retrieving the radio from the infuriated pirate king's grasp. "You think just because you popped a shot off you won this game? I am so fucking disappointed!" No doubt his voice had carried all the way to the few men still standing guard outside, but again it was either a matter of not noticing or simple indifference. Vaas was on a roll, and wouldn't be stopped until he was good and ready to stop or until he simply ran out of steam. Most times it was anyone's guess which of the two would come first, and the same held true now with the wild look in the man's eye. Some snarky little American girl had seen fit to poke the tiger with a stick and set it to snarling now, and unfortunately this was a creature that held onto grudges for dear life. "Crees que puedes venir a mi casa y me jodas? ME?! Huh? You have no fucking idea con quién estás jodiendo. None. So good fucking luck to you. You are gonna need it when I come looking for you. You don't got anything to say now uh? I know you still listening chica. Did you tell Blondie that everything's gonna be ok, uh? It's not. You run as fast as you can chica. But I'ma catch up real quick." Finally he stopped to draw in a rattling breath, now becoming acutely aware of the pain he'd set ablaze again in his abdomen. Some small presence of mind allowed him to release the button before letting out a guttural gran as he laid himself gingerly back out on the cot, his free hand groping along the floor blindly until he'd located his rum again. "This is some bullshit," He rasped shortly before chugging the depleted remains of his third bottle and waving it carelessly in Benny's direction. "Benny, man. I think I need another one. Fuck this shit..." To be sure, Sorcha was right. No one could deny that and Ash certainly wouldn't. The fact of the matter was that they did need to keep moving, just as much as the painfully short rest stop had been needed. Though what Ash guessed to be roughly three hours and maybe some change was nowhere near enough rest for either of them, they were just going to have to make do. While hiding was what was instinctive, being on the move was what would put distance between them and Vaas and make it harder to be found. And ultimately that was the number one priority right now, to keep away from that man to keep on surviving. Otherwise Sorcha was right again, he would find them like he'd found countless others. So without further hesitation Ash pushed herself to her feet again to climb out of the little hiding spot to follow Sorcha back out into the night. The one silver lining of sorts was the light of the moon that shone down unimpeded by any city lights, illuminating the island much better than one would think. The one downside, of course, was that to make use of said light they would also potentially give themselves away just as well. The sight of Sorcha raising that radio gave her pause in surveying the moonlight island laid out around them, her brows furrowing in confusion. She was answering him, the man who'd just finished threatening them and promising to make good on those threats? With wide eyes she only watched as Sorcha gave her short, taunting answer with what little energy she had, staring up at the girl in vague horror. Vaas was going to be out for blood now if he wasn't before, unless by some miracle he hadn't heard her answer. Such was not the case, given evidence by the sudden explosion coming from the radio that Sorcha tried to muffle. With the looks Ash was getting, the pseudo-plan dawned on her then as somewhere a little ways off the putter of a vehicle was coupled with the same shouting that emanated from the radio Sorcha held, though it quickly faded again as it passed by unaware. "I'm not judging or anything, just... Well. He's mad," She answered quietly, nodding toward the radio that no amount of muffling could totally drown out. How long he would continue was anyone's guess, which meant they really did have to get moving, and right now. Thankfully Sorcha seemed a little more there than before, so to speak, but she was still in bad need of proper medical care. "Alright, the village is that way... And Dennis said the doctor wasn't much further than that. Let me see the- Oh." She broke off to frown at the thought; with the pilfered cellphone still off and powering it back on was not an option, it left them with no map and therefore no means of navigating properly. "We don't have a map now. And we kind of need one." Somehow going back to Amanaki to ask for one seemed like it was going to be totally off the table, after whatever Vaas had done to terrify those poor people as Dennis had predicted he would. "...we'll figure something out on the way there," She sighed, looking over the rifle before beginning the trek back down the side of the cliff. Going back down was far easier than trying to climb up it while exhausted half to death, though what was far more concerning than a few climbs was the jungle ahead. It was eerie at night, more so than it could ever hope to be during the day, with the way the canopy blocked what little light was shining down and the chorus of whatever creatures made it their home. It felt for all the world like they were about to walk into some scene of a nightmare, giving Ash a final moment to pause and draw in a breath to steel her nerves. "You're gonna be ok?" - If there was anything consistent about this island it was the noise. No matter the time of the day or where the sun and the moon was there was always something to break the silence. The laughter of men, the cry of an exotic bird, the howl of monkey's and snarls of tiger's, even just the breeze rattling through the leaves was enough. The island was always alive in some way...sometimes in stranger, frightening ways then one would expect. Always there was a song... but in that moment there was no more singing, there was no more smiles, no endearment...not even breathe. Just cold, crushing silence. A quiet so intense that you'd have heard a pin drop across the room when that wild look ignited in Vaas' hazel eyes. The kind of quiet right before Armageddon. And Benny knew, deep in his heart, that is was coming...and it was gonna hit harder then usual, they all knew what was about to happen. Carlos had drawn distance between he and that cot...but Benny he couldn't so much as blink before their young King had scrambled up from that cot like bat out of hell and ripped the radio right out of his white knuckled hand, mindless of his own wounds and the ripping of stitches as madness drove him forward to lash back at the defiance of the slave on the other side of that radio – that steadfast creature, that one that got away. Benny wasn't wrong... the wave of rage hit him like the angry waves of the ocean in the storms, his fingers ached from the violent removal from the device held in his hand, and Vaas' rage filled slurs held them all frozen in their place. No one dared to move, to speak, not even to blink. It didn’t matter that he wasn't addressing a single one of them, but the inexplicably toned voice over the waves, but by proxy they all felt the same amount of dread that that girl might have been feeling herself at the moment. Except for Benny, ever steely in his endeavors. He had seen worse men then Vaas, worse then Hoyt even. He was a carefully molded soldier right down to the very end. He'd seen the battlefields and survived the mortars and land mines. He seen his comrades die slowly and painfully, or quickly and in pieces, hell he'd had to put down a few of them out of mercy. He also been inside the lions mouth so the speak, had to smile and agree and laugh along with the monsters that terrorized the innocent, he had to become just like them to survive, play mimic for the greater good. And in the process perhaps he'd lost his sense of self ...and when Benny wasn't able to act he was just absolute, a nothing, a drone waiting for an order and recording every detail. And the details were both gruesome and confusing. It didn't take much anger this cockatoo. The kinda drugs he took did that to people, the more you take the sorter the temper and weaker the high. So you took more to get to that place in the clouds where all the pain stopped and all the betrayal didn't mean a thing without ever realizing just how much of you crumbled away each and every line that was blurred. And sometimes when a person fell apart like that...something was left standing there in its place, that deep manifested darkness that drove them to medicate in the first place, the demon that tormented them – finally given freedom to act as it would desire too. Such a demon was what Vaas became more and more each and everyday. It was this demon that screamed right now in fatal attempt to remind that girl that she couldn't, and wouldn't win. It was this demon that every man here feared and respected. But there was something so very different in Vaas' tone. It wasn't just anger or insult, it wasn't just the raving of a madman, hell it wasn't even some deep and unconscious fear. Benny could see it in the intensity of his eyes, a fire much hotter then wrath burning inside of him, he wanted to call it excitement... but it was so much more then that. Benny dared to wonder if it was some kind of primal, male born, desire in his eyes and his brow creased as he on autopilot tried to take the radio back to stop the kid from hurting himself even more, and failed even that simple task. Benny didn't even know why, it wasn't like he wanted him to live or anything. He just did...because it was his act. He had to be one of them right now. And the silence returned amongst them, as Vaas dropped himself back down onto his cot with a groan they all felt in their chests. And Benny moved from the table to try again for that radio, only for Vaas to inexplicably move it further from his reach and beg for another bottle of rum. Benny almost felt like a babysitter, maybe even like the father of a two year old post tantrum...but it was all still too damn quiet. And that meant that this wasn't over... he knew Vaas – and he liked to think he knew that hotheaded girl. Last thing she was going to be was silent. Vaas was out of steam right now... but that wouldn't last forever, and the way he kept the radio from him was indicative behavior. Vaas was waiting for her to reply, hoping for it. He wanted her to speak again...because it would allow the game to continue, allow him to find that edge and her weakness', it would allow him into her world again where he would be a man of great importance and it didn't matter if he was the villain or the hero, only that he existed there. “I'll get you another one.” Benny replied reluctantly as he drew back from the cot, having lost the battle for ownership of the radio and turned on his heels, heavy steps announcing his and Carlos' exit from the shack. And Benny was right, Sorcha wasn't a silent sort of person, she also wasn't easily intimidated either. And put together she was an acidic molotov of tempered flames and ice cold steel. She wasn't always the brightest bulb in the box...but she was the quickest one to light up out of the rest. A week in this place had already changed her beyond recognition, something that her companion sorely noticed, but a week in this place had also granted her bearings that slowly but surely were rooting deeper into the soil so much so that the sharp and white hot abuse that made the radio quiver and crackle in overblown agony in her digits had a lessened reaction from her. Benny was almost right about her silence, maybe a week ago she'd have immediately screamed some insult right back into his face but that girl... she wasn't here anymore. What stood in her skin was a pale comparison of the bright eyed, stoic, and cruel young girl – what stood was a husk of cold and bitter resentment, a standoffish shadow with a mind of meticulous gears and cogs that ever turned, something unnatural and devoid of almost all reaction and feeling. A pretty, broken, and savaged creature that was beyond anger but not beyond revenge. Pain was what this man had given her and all those around her, pain and fear that left one of them dead, another frozen in fear, and a good, strong woman shaking in her boots – looking at her like she didn't even recognize what she was looking at anymore. It took a lot to make Ash doubt her company like she was right now. But Sorcha couldn't help that anymore, she could just be someone that died when a bullet ripped open her chest, someone who's soul had been taken right out of her the second that man jumped on top of her. All that pain and anguish was her friend now, and she would make sure they all felt her dread in every kind of way. In her silence she was frowning in response to Vaas' raging words, understanding every single one of them but she was only half listening to the noise. Somewhere on the road a vehicle roared by completely unaware to their vicinity, each radio blasted with the same voice, the same words, across the same entire network of red shirted pirate that plagued this island. In that pale darkness she learned where the road was and she learned that they were not alone. It was hard to distinguish at first but when jungle had silenced itself she'd heard it just well enough, an echo of Vaas' voice both far off on that road and in her ear yet slightly further off in the opposite direction. In that very moment Vaas had aided her, in that moment she'd zeroed into the stray fawn that ignorantly wandered away from it's mother. But the outburst had ended almost as quickly as it began and Sorcha merely shook her head. “I'm past mad.” Came her cold reply to the girl as she tried to reason with her in the only way she knew how, reminding her that Vaas was like hornets nest – a nest in which she continued to poke at. But despite whether or not Sorcha had any true sense or sanity, the fact remained that there was prey nearby...and she was onto his scent. All that mattered was finding it as she lurched down the hillside at a truly pitiful pace to say the least, cringing often with each other step that forced any kind of resistant pressure onto her wounded leg while she cradled her half dead arm against her once more. The nerves had deadened sometime during sleep, and with it the pain was almost unnoticeable. It was far from healthy, nor good, but she would take it. Halfway down the hillside she'd begun to speed up, ignoring the jarring discomfort in favor of gravity helping her off the hill more quickly and once her feet hit level ground Vaas' handgun was produced from the hem of her pants and she idly pulled back the slide to launch the next bullet into the chamber of the gun. But Sorcha only mildly chuckled at Ash's next question as she turned the radio in her fingers, “Yes.” Came her only reply seconds later as she rose the radio to her lips again. “Ah, don't flatter yourself , sugar.” Sorcha began, staring intently into the void of the jungle as she motioned for Ash to stay behind her, “Your needle dick did nothing for me, really. I almost wish I'd gotten Douglas.” Now all that was left was to wait and watch. -

"Yeah ok. I'ma be here." Like there was anywhere he'd be going with the extra damage he'd done to his own self, really. With the promise of another bottle on the way Vaas let his head fall back against his makeshift pillow, blinking slowly up at the ceiling. Had it not been for the redhead taunting him over the radio he likely would have already drifted off and given in to the shroud of booze, but such was not the case now. Now his head spun from both bottle and seething fury directed at the louder mouthed of the two escapees. Already Vaas had begun to imagine how exactly he'd go about recapturing the two runaways; more specifically his head was swirling with thoughts of what would befall that redhead once he'd already caught them. Those were pleasant thoughts, enough to make him start to relax his tensed muscles again and stare up at the ceiling with an almost-smile playing at his lips, the images of his shack and his compound house and maybe even Pirate Cove if he decided to be a little adventurous. Those were good thoughts finally. Red wouldn't be barking nearly so loud once Vaas managed to convince her otherwise, and let himself idly stare at the wall as the possibility of sleep with good dreams began to drift closer. From somewhere far away Sorcha's voice had somehow made its way to his attention, the realization making him blink in incomprehension until the slight vibrations from the plastic box in his had made Vaas understand why he'd be hearing it. All at once he snapped back to attention, just in time to catch the redhead's next choice words crackling out of the speaker. If he'd been furious before Vaas didn't even know a word to describe what this was and could only listen in wide-eyed rage as Sorcha went on. Now she really was just fucking with him, he knew full well, but Vaas above all things was a creature with a massive but easily bruised ego, an ego that this redheaded slave had set to dealing blows to. I almost wish I'd gotten Douglas. If Sorcha had been looking to strike nerves she'd achieved her goal spectacularly, leaving Vaas laying in his cot looking nothing short of a lunatic. In that moment words failed the motormouthed pirate for nearly a solid 30 seconds before he sat straight up to rise from the cot again, ignoring the newly-flared agony. The nerve of this bitch. It evaded his attention entirely at that moment that the aforementioned dick couldn't possibly have done anything for her seeing as he'd never gotten the chance, and right then he wouldn't have cared even if it had occurred to him. "You think you are just so fucking big and bad uh?" He snarled into the radio, not noticing that he'd begun to pace like a caged wild animal. "Ok. Ok I'ma remember that when I find your ass, and I better not hear any fucking crying when I do. You don't know how fucked you are, not yet. But it's ok, it's all ok. You just wait for me chica." It was his normal M.O to break things when he was angry, everyone knew this of Vaas. When the man was on a warpath he left a literal trail of destruction behind him, and it rarely mattered what he got his hands on, it would end up broken more often than not. The same was about to hold true for the radio, he'd even cocked his hand back to dash the device against the wall when a strangely lucid thought made its way to the front of his mind. She'd gotten the radio from somewhere hadn't she? He'd even heard the strangled dying scream of the man she'd taken it from. He moved like a man possessed and flung the door open, the resulting bang making the nearby men jump and swear, only able to watch in something like awe as Vaas stalked off into the darkened jungle. "Is he for real-? EY, Benny!" The sniper atop the roof called out, but the pirate king was already lost among the trees even to the sniper's eyes. Though very little light shone down to assist him in traversing the jungle, Vaas needed none of it at all to hone in on the place he'd been shot at. The pain became something like a distant memory with his new goal laid out before him, a fact that he'd likely pay for later when he had to deal with all the haphazard stitches he'd ripped but in the moment it didn't matter. All that mattered now was getting there, locating the downed heavy gunner and discerning how exactly he'd fallen. Why he needed to know all of a sudden, Vaas just plain had no fucking idea. He just did. It was easiest to just let his feet carry him along without thought and he was far happier to just do that instead of pay attention to what he was only making worse, or pay attention to the dark red beginning to seep through his shirt. Eventually he found himself standing among the clearing, glaring down at the dried blood stains on the grass and scanning the jungle floor. It had been hours ago but he still vividly remembered the direction she'd come from and still had the energy to follow it, and wasted no time in doing exactly that. Whatever Vaas had expected, this wasn't it at all. This man in his prime had been a good 300-something pounds and strong as an ox, but here he was, very dead and very much no longer in his prime. "Fuck, man..." Where the heavy's left eye had been there was only a bloodied stick in place, driven far back into his skull that an experimental tug on it only resulted in lifting the dead man's entire head. It was only standing in front of the man that Vaas then understood why he'd needed to see it; it proved him right about that girl. Sorcha liked to hurt and taunt about it, and if this and his own wound weren't enough proof of that then he didn't know what was. All that together was enough to draw a burst of harsh laughter from the pirate that set his wound alight again, and yet his smile stayed in place. If this was how she could play, that was good. That was really good, because that just meant he didn't have to play nearly so gently. Good luck... They'd need it once he was fixed up the right way. From somewhere in the near-ish distance another radio squawked with Vaas' infuriated answers, though the sound only half registered as Ash looked over the redhead. Something was off in a bad way about Sorcha, almost enough to make her not recognize the girl she'd called her sister for some time now. But of course that was going to be the case; wasn't she herself going to be a little off after all this so far? Whether it was just the mixture of trauma and pain or something deeper that made her act this way, it was still up in the air. Even that chuckle had sounded wrong to Ash's ears, but she could only hope it was something that would right itself with time and care. They still had survival to worry about, and though it was dangerous Sorcha's plan did seem to work wonders. Her next taunt was a low blow, enough to make Ash wince as she listened in. If she didn't know better she'd have almost started to think Sorcha was just enjoying herself, goading the injured Vaas into his furious fits of temper while he was helpless to only yell at her. This time, however, there was no yelling like before. Vaas' tone was all animal, bringing to mind images of a snarling dog ready to bite the moment it got the chance. Frankly Ash would have preferred the yelling, it felt safer somehow than this not quite quiet threat. At the very least, the man carrying the radio on his own made it easy enough to locate him still in the darkened jungle. "...ugh, it burns like a mother when I piss," The pirate complained to the unfortunate tree he'd chosen. "Should have used a rubber." Trailing behind Sorcha as they slipped further into the treeline, another somewhat unwelcome memory resurfaced from the forest she and the reverend had frequented on hunting trips. Walk like I taught you or you're gonna scare everything off from here to Dallas, his voice snapped at the younger self in her head. Though her teeth automatically grit together her feet nonetheless fell into the familiar hunter's tread, each step coming down carefully to not rustle the thick grass below. They'd approached the nature-called pirate with apparent health problems, but the question foremost in Ash's mind was Now what? With how Sorcha's pace had quickened she'd known there had to be something she had in mind, but what that was hadn't been made readily apparent yet. She could hazard a guess that the night was going to end badly for their plagued prey only yards away relieving himself, and could further surmise it would end with the bullet she had ensured was chambered.

You thought my dick was just fine when you was in my little shack, your girl did too. Vaas' tone was noxious and sickening as his Spanish tones crackled through the radio in her hand and it was enough to white wash any shade she had in her already shadeless skin. But he didn't stop there as her fingers tightened, holding the radio in a vice grip, as he continued to talk. The image of neon lights returned in full force, reds and pinks and blues left spots on her eyes as the manic scratches upon the walls surfaced from some dark recess of her mind. Imagines of white chalk eyes scratched and cut into the rusted metal walls, all with pupils downward towards the mattress' and old smelly pillows...all of them watching like some dark master over the entire room. She felt her stomach turn as the bile rose in her throat anew and her entire body suffered a shudder that radiated from tense shoulders down to her knee's which almost buckled. She closed her eyes, banishing the memories, and swallowed down the terrible need to vomit again. For him she had no more words, the threat of tears stung her eyes behind closed lids and silently she lowered the radio and clipped it back into the loop of her pants. She couldn't think about that right now and though shaken she reminded herself of her purpose here. Get Scha'tzi, keep Ash, and leave this hell hole.

This man had a legendary temper to say the least. Always something visceral to say and aimed where it would hurt the most. Always having the last word because he thought it meant he won, even if he didn't. But it wasn't about who shut up first, it was about who had done the most damage without either one touching the other. The simple fact was she didn't know this man, she didn't know the peak of things he was capable of and she didn't want to find out. But it didn't change the fact that he was coming, and whether she liked it or not, that was the reality of the situation. Whether she wanted to or not he was going to come hunting her down like some animal, and the reality was she was going to have to either run and hope for survival or kill him first. It didn't matter if she provoked him or pretended like he didn't exist, it wasn't going to stop him from finding her. That was the absolute, and while Ash didn't understand it, Sorcha wanted this to end sooner rather then prolong suffering. It was her fatalist design and she hoped that Ash never became a part of it, she hoped that her sister could retain some shred of innocence after this place. Because if anyone was getting off this rock, it was going to be Ash, be it either with friends or alone. That was all Sorcha could guarantee her, freedom.

As her feet slid down the loose leaves she paused upon the incline with eyes set upon the dark, moving creature beneath the cover of leaves and weeds while he burped disgustingly loud at the tree he'd chosen to piss on. Her nose already wrinkled at the smell that would hit her eventually anyway, as if the stench of three day un-washed, sweat, booze, vomit, piss, and disease wasn't burning her nose enough from the distance that she was away from him – might as well add whatever he had eaten recently on top of it too. Even as Vaas' tones continued to hiss and snarl through the radio the man barely seemed to flinch as he focused on his task, as if it was a daily occurrence to hear Vaas threatening bodily harm onto some poor fool, never mind that it was the escaped slave that this man was supposed to be keeping an alert eye out for. But judging by his stance and the way that he simply flicked off the power knob of his radio to shut the man up told her that this individual rightly gave no fucks about any lost slaves on the island. “Christ... someday im'a put a bullet in his mouth. Yeah. Then I’ll be da King!” The pirate spoke in a gravelly tone and Sorcha quickly mimed, silencing her radio as well as her digits tightened upon the smooth, heavy handle of her enemies handgun she still held close to her hip. And sliding down the remainder of the incline the man snorted as he jostled himself back into his pants with a whispered swear about the smell of it.

“Betteh go see da Doctah.” He quietly commented after a moment of examination of what she could only gather was his gnarled up dick. “You want a band aid for that, sugar?” Sorcha asked as the barrel of handgun pressed into the man's dreadlocks and he froze in place, “Oh fuck,” the man managed to utter as the pistol bellowed out a mighty roar that banged through the jungle and startled away the birds and the monkey’s that had been peacefully dreaming not seconds ago as red sprayed across her face and blinked away the stung of it in her eyes as she stumbled back slightly in recoil. From the trees the black bodies erupted into the sky to flee sharp sound while the other animal's yowled for one another from the canopy. The pirates body fell immediately with a sickening thud as brain matter and red began to paint the jungle floor a whole new color and call out to scavengers to come feast as she wiped her hand over her face and glanced down at the handgun's barrel. Still looked like there was some ammo left in it, though how many more rounds she could be sure of.

And stepping over the body the eruption of manly laughter close by forced her to pause over the dark skinned man's corpse as amber eyes scanned the terrain in shock.

“Hey Juan! What happened? Did a leopard attack your balls man?” A new voice bellowed outwards from the twisting grime of nature while a reprise chorus of deep laughter followed. Seemed this boy wasn't alone. Slowly she turned to look at Ash as she canted her head in the direction of the voices before she finished her step over the dead man and shuffled through the bodies of trees, coming to crouch down as the jungle ended and the main road began where two red painted vehicles stood parked right in the middle off the road with a small herd of meandering red shirted bodies lazily sat upon them. “....roadblock?” Sorcha asked quietly as she moistened her lips.

Smokes That was the idea behind Benny's movements after he'd stepped out of the shack on his simple mission for more booze for their hapless boss. Yet the last thing Benny knew he shoulda done was leave that boy alone in there to his own devices. The boss was the boss for a reason and he had bad habits like everybody else, but Vaas' were more harmful then simple nose picking. That kid didn't understand his own threshold of pain and when he shoulda stopped he just kept going, fueled on pure rage and malice alone. Benny had seen it more then once. Each and every time some new asshole decided to rise up to defend those savages in the woods – Vaas lost his shit just a little worse each and every time. But what Vaas never done is loose to one of em either. Sure a few of them had managed to put some scratches on him, even less had put him down for a night or two, but at the end it was their body strung up on Calvary Point as another sick reminder of who ran this island. But something was too different this time...and it bothered him in his bones. Why women? That was the question burning in Benny's brain as he stopped short of the supply locker to dig into his pants pocket for the old crumpled box of smokes he had stashed away. And tapping the white box still half wrapped in plastic against his palm he was looking through his yellow tinted glasses at the world around him. That sister of Vaas'... he wondered what that girl was up to now. Either she had a mighty dislike of these girls or she had some kinda plan cooked up in her little rocky hole.

Benny sighed, “God help em'.” He mumbled to himself as the little white cigarette slipped between his lips and the flash of orange illuminated his face. As the embers ignited against the pull of his breath he sighed contently as he held the smoke in his lungs an waited for the edge of nerves to weaken when the shout of the Sniper startled him out of his concentration.

“Is he for real – EY BENNY!” The bald American only could sigh out the smoke in his lungs as he glanced upwards just in time to see the wry man point yonder into the thick of the jungle where Vaas had stormed off into. “Goddamn it.” He swore as he threw his cigarette into the dirt and hustled after the vanished Pirate King at a soldiers jog. Just where that kid thought he was going was anyone's guess, Vaas didn't need a reason to do anything at any given moment ninety-nine percent of the time and as he ducked down beneath the vines and low hanging branches he could saw some lingering shadow slithering off even farther through the tree's. “Vaas!” Benny cried, motioning for two soldiers to follow right behind him just in case as he broke into a run to pursue Hoyt's favorite little toy, and Benny did not want to have to make that phone call telling him they lost him either. But trying to find a Rakyat warrior in a dark jungle? You didn't. And it almost didn't seem worth it to even try but Benny had to now didn't he? Somewhere in the distance Carlos was calling his name as well and Benny only hoped he'd kept the radio on him.

The soldier broke out of the treeline then to find himself at the canyon he had carried Vaas through originally, spying in the mud and dirt fresh tracks, size eleven combat boot. Benny knew then where Vaas had run off to, he'd gone off to track that girl and hurrying through the canyon and through the grassy knolls he found his boss by happenstance in the corner of his eye, standing precariously still while he looked at something. “Vaas!” Benny called as he looped around the hillside only to stop dead in his tracks at the realization of what Vaas had already been looking at...and the sight of it made his stomach turn just a little bit.

“Jesus Christ,” He whispered, cringing at the sight and smell the burnt and very dead Heavy lying in the middle of a blackened patch of grass where there obviously had been some kinda fire. “...how is that even possible?” Benny added as he touched the stick as well out of some human borne curiosity and quickly regretted it when the man's entire head moved instead of the stick. “Who the hell did this, not that girl?” He hoped not that girl, nothing possibly human coulda done this to someone this big.

At the crack of gunfire Ash winced with the noise of the action, tensing to listen for any more pirates. The answer was swift in the form of raucous laughter and jeering not far off, ridiculing the fallen man for what his companions clearly took as a misfire or something equally ridiculous. Their mistake, She chided inwardly as she met Sorcha's eyes with a nod and followed after her toward the sound of the pirates. Roadblock? From where they crouched near the dirt road it gave the perfect view through the dense brush at the two cars and their passengers, who still meandered in the road oblivious to their missing member's fate. "Looks like it. That's a problem," Ash sighed out in barely a whisper, eyes still surveying the scene. Not counting the dead man, she counted five more of the chatty pirates standing around near their Jeeps, all but one not even bothering to keep their rifles at ease. It was a plain stupid idea to try and shoot them all down as they were now, if only for the noise factor. While they were effective weapons, neither girls' gun was particularly quiet in any fashion and would only serve as a giant sign pointing in their direction. Better to just distract them and leave, maybe, except... As Ash had opened her mouth to say just that, the folded paper tucked haphazardly into one of the Jeep's visors caught her attention. It had been hard to tell at first, but after a few moments Ash realized she was looking right at a map, the very thing she'd said she needed not even minutes ago. "They've got a map." How to get it was the only question now. Getting them to look in one direction long enough to sneak by would have been one thing, but getting them all away from the vehicles long enough to steal from them was another. Still lost in thought Ash pulled her lower lip between her teeth to bite down absentmindedly, eyes darting between the map and the pirates. What was it Dennis had said, to trust her instincts? They were telling her now she and Sorcha both needed that map and whatever else the pirates may have stashed away in their vehicles, but both instincts and logic agreed that trying to shoot them head on was still a stupid plan. Maybe it would have been a possibility if Sorcha was at her best physical state, but still the redhead was trying to cope with the wounds she'd gotten in such a short amount of time. As it obviously was not going to be the answer to the current obstacle Ash released the rifle to sling it across her back, tugging on the leather strap to tighten the gun to her. Without that she had no way of fighting these men, save for the knife still dangling freely at her hip. At this point she'd almost forgotten about Hoyt's knife, but now her hand went to it to look it over again in the moonlight. It really was a fantastic blade, having kept its razor edge even without being kept in a sheath for some time now, and it was every bit as deadly a weapon as when she'd first snatched it. Not to mention it made no noise. With that thought in mind green eyes flickered back to the pirates ahead, who'd begun peering into the jungle for their oddly silent companion. “Ey! Juan!” One called out, following up with a whistle to get the man's attention. “Ok... If you go get that map, I can take care of them. If they've got more laying around so much the better,” Ash murmured, taking the first few steps back into the shadows of the treeline, only daring to rise from her crouch once she was safely shrouded in the darkness again to pause at one of the trees nearby. “Where the fuck is he? Juan!” With an exaggeratedly pained sigh, the first pirate shook his head and started into the jungle, muttering foully under his breath. As he progressed further Ash trailed after him, careful to still keep her footsteps quiet as she padded along to place herself behind the man. How exactly she was going to go about this, she hadn't quite planned out yet, but the moment of needing to make a decision was rapidly approaching as the pirate poked his way through the trees in search of a man whose deceased status was unlikely to change. Do something now, the inward voice nagged as the pirate came within a few feet of literally stumbling over the dead one. Before she could psyche herself out Ash darted forward as the pirate turned after the sudden faint sound of footsteps behind him. He never got the chance to cry out, the blade piercing his throat as easily as cutting paper and surprising Ash with how simple the motion of the stab had been. Gurgling his last the second pirate fell to his knees, hands grasping weakly at his punctured neck and wide eyes staring up at the equally stunned girl standing over him. One down, four more to go. As long as she picked them off one by one it couldn't be all that hard, and so much the better if she could keep all their attention on her and not Sorcha. While the pirate gave a final whisper of a breath Ash slung the blood off the knife onto the jungle floor, peering around the side of the tree in the direction of the remaining pirates. With two men gone they'd begun to get nervous, that much she could tell from the edge their chatter had taken. “Juan! Eldad!” One of them called out, squinting into the darkness as he motioned for the three others to come along. “Quit fucking around!” Narrowed eyes watched carefully as four pirates began to sweep the area, each one spreading out from the others to comb through the jungle with guns shouldered now, an added factor that gave Ash a moment of pause. None of them displayed trigger discipline at all, even in the barely-there light she could see all their eager fingers resting right on the triggers. While on one hand it only showed just how incompetent they really were despite how tough they tried to look, on the other it made the threat of accidental discharge very real if she wasn't more careful. Speaking of threats, another one had made itself apparent in the form of another pirate coming her way now. Where exactly the three others were Ash couldn't be entirely sure, but the sounds of their boots clumsily traversing the ground told her none were terribly far off. As the man neared where she and the dead ones lay, she edged further around the tree, all the while listening to his footsteps to judge where he was. It was a dangerous game that would only get worse here on out, one that she knew next to nothing about save what she'd already seen. What disturbed her more than that was just how quickly she'd begun to pick up on it to play along. Within moments she'd maneuvered herself to be right behind the pirate, one hand reaching out to yank his head back while the other drew the knife across his throat in one clean motion. While the second victim pitched forward Ash stepped back to listen again to the sounds around her, more specifically those of the pirates. One she could hear stomping about to her left, the other two off to the right at a distance she couldn't quite determine. With a deep breath to steel her nerves and repeating the action of slinging off the blood, Ash gripped the knife again to set off for the left pirate. He was on his own, and she still needed a moment to think on the dilemma of the two pirates that had paired up. Thankfully, Mr. Left was loud in both his footsteps and in his displeasure with the situation. “This fucking island is too much,” He spat under his breath, pausing to kick at a patch of bushes near him. “I told them they're fucking dead already... I hope the leopard gets them too. ” His movements were more erratic than the other two, jerky and unpredictable as though he was a marionette having its strings yanked around. Somewhere in the back of her head that little voice nagged again, hissing into her ear He's high. He's dangerous. The voice wasn't wrong at all, and it was enough to make Ash slow her approach. The very last thing she needed was to get ganged up on by three pirates, and on top of that Sorcha was still off somewhere nearby as well and in much worse shape than Ash. Hadn't she said she'd take care of this? And far be it from Ash to not follow through when she said she would do something. With that in mind she edged forward after the pirate with no shortage of apprehension, observing the man's odd shuffling steps. “Need another hit soon, fuck this,” He snarled at a nearby tree as he passed it, while Ash used the moment of his outburst to close the distance between them. In nearly the exact moment she'd raised the knife with the plan of ending his life in a slit throat as she did with his other companion, without warning stopped in place and cocked his head to one side. At once the blonde froze, every muscle in her body tensed almost painfully. He knows he knows, her thoughts repeated over in one long loop while she barely even dared to breathe. The time passed couldn't have been much more than three seconds but felt like an eternity, spent desperately hoping that this man wasn't about to completely undo what Ash had so hoped would work. She flat out couldn't afford to let him. It was this thought that spurred her to action, bolting forward to close the last few feet between them and turning the blade in her hand to bring it down into the side of the pirate's neck. The man himself never made a sound, but in his moment of shock drew his finger down on the trigger of his rifle and sprayed the ground with the remaining handful of bullets in it. There could have been no louder sound in that moment, the rapid cracks of the AK piercing the night air and startling several birds from where they'd been roosting. “What was that? Ed??” “Go check, man, c'mon!” Her eyes wide with horror Ash reeled away to press her back to the nearest tree, a sinking feeling already forming in the pit of her stomach at the panicked shouts of the other two pirates. Somehow she needed to fix this fast, starting with relocating the two pirates. Their crashing footsteps had stopped after they'd run to the approximate source of the gunfire, and now they apparently had learned to walk quietly because there was little besides a few gentle shifting noises of grass here and there. Forcing her breathing down to normal levels Ash squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, opening them again to peer around the edge of the tree. No sooner had the plan entered her head than one of the pirates stepped from around the very tree she happened to be using for cover. He hadn't noticed the panicking blonde just to his left, but of course the slightest turn of his head and that would change in an instant. “Oh, fuck, I found Ed! Wha-?” No sooner had the words left his mouth than the bit of motion in his peripherals turned into a glint of steel and blur of blonde, to which he let out a wordless cry of alarm that was cut short by the viper-quick hit to his chest. For a moment he wasn't even sure why it had taken away his breath as it did until he realized he'd been stabbed, at which point he snarled and lunged forward for his attacker to drag them both down to the ground. Only now was he feeling the stab wound, one that might have been deadlier had he not turned at the last second when he did. In a fury his fist swung down to collide with the blonde's face only to have the gesture returned. As he'd begun to raise his hand again Ash rose hers as well and something cool pressed into his jaw. This too confused him for a split second until the girl he'd pinned gave a snarl and a sharp jerk of her hand, twisting the knife she'd stabbed up through the underside of his jaw. The last thing he was aware of was being shoved off the blonde and into the ground, his consciousness not lasting long enough to feel the blade being yanked away. “Holy fuck.” At once Ash sprung back to her feet with knife at the ready, rising to watch the retreating form of the last pirate fleeing. Well... He was gone at least. Five total dead and one gone on the run counted as the problem being taken care of. One last time the blood was flung off the knife edge, the remainder wiped off onto Ash's pant leg. As something of an afterthought she glanced back down at the nearest dead man to look him over, reaching down to remove the magazine from the rifle he'd carried to inspect it. 14 more shots that she stashed into her back pocket for the time being, pausing again to remove the knife he had strapped to his hip. The man's blade she discarded without much further thought; it looked as though he'd been chopping rocks with the damn thing and without a whetstone she wasn't going to bother even trying to do anything with it. But the sheath was useful, this she attached to her own hip to stow away her knife. Not hers, really, but she was still in the process of borrowing it without plans to give it back. With all said and done Ash got back to her feet to break into a jog for the vehicles, eyes scanning the place for Sorcha. “Sorcha? You're still ok?” As she made it back to the Jeep a hand rose to rub at her left arm where the skin had begun to sting slightly, not devoting the moment to inspect the tatau in favor of looking over her friend. “I think we should probably just take one of these. That... kind of didn't go like I wanted it, exactly. You find anything good?” - Who the hell did this, not that girl? If he hadn't been in so much pain Vaas might have laughed out loud, gone off about all the other possible things it could have been. A monkey, a shark, one of the tortoises even, but now the pirate king just found that he was in little of a mood for jokes. It was unlike him and he didn't like it at all, but goddamnit he hurt. “Yeah, it was her. Fuck, man... I'ma kill this bitch. No, get the other one first and have Red watch,” He gritted out as he swayed slightly on his feet, jamming his fist against Benny's shoulder to regain his balance. “They won't know what the fuck hit them...” Against the wave of pain and the head rush that came with it Vaas grit his teeth and leaned a bit heavier against Benny, a moment later shoving himself away once the rush has passed. “Need more rum. And I wanna go see the doc. This is bullshit here.” For just a few moments the pirate honestly thought he'd been about to be sick, until the crack of a solitary gunshot rang through the air. It was nowhere near them, but sound carried in this place and doubly so at night when it quieted down. It wasn't as thought gunshots were unusual to hear. It was pretty much part of a day to day life, always someone or something getting shot at somewhere. Call it paranoia or just another one of Vaas' gut feelings, though, but this single shot gave the man pause. “The fuck was that?” He muttered, his brow furrowing as he stared in the direction of the sound. Of course he wanted to think it was because of one of those girls, maybe one of them had been shot... But that was the problem, one shot meant one girl. “Benny, man, you heard that right?” His tone had picked up an edge now as accusing eyes glared at his American companion, as if daring Benny to say that he hadn't. “I don't fucking like it. Hermano.” As he began ambling off again he gave a sharp whistle to alert the pirate that he should follow after him, never mind the fact that he was quite literally bleeding everywhere. Not even a few minutes later more gunshots rang out, this time probably from an SMG or an assault rifle. If before Vaas had looked murderous his expression had somehow only grown worse as he shook his head in response to the noise, answering some unspoken thought in his head. “I don't fucking like it,” He repeated, inhaling sharply when the radio at his waist crackled to life. It was going to be Red again, he just fucking knew it was and she was going to taunt him about whatever else she'd done and- “Ey, Boss? Boss!” At the sound of the rough Jamaican accent coming through Vaas' shoulders released only a fraction of their tension. It wasn't who he'd been expecting. But he didn't like that panicked tone to his voice, not one bit. “What?” He rasped back, waiting not very patiently for the pirate to respond. “You at the cliffside right? Shit happened, boss.” Shit happened. It wasn't an untrue sentiment, especially not in Rook. “Yeah I'm there. Benny... gonna go hunting in a minute hermano. See what this asshole done now...” Somewhere in trying to reattach the radio to his belt his pain and booze-clouded head fumbled the clasp and let the device simply clatter to the ground, although as was the case with Vaas sometimes he either didn't notice or didn't care. By the time the king and his unofficial escort had made it back at the pace of the injured Vaas' steps, the asshole in question was already perched on the hood of the gutted truck that had been sitting in the place for God only knew how long now. At Vaas' arrival he slid down to greet the man, swallowing thickly at the sight of the bloodied and dark-expressioned pirate king. “Shit happened. What kinda shit?” He demanded, completely ignoring the concept of personal space as he ambled up to the darker skinned man to loom over him until he was forced into sitting again on the truck hood. “I... we was out on the road.” “Uh huh.” “And Juan went to take a leak.” “Right, ok.” At the pirate's hesitation Vaas waved his hand, motioning for the man to keep going despite the boss' proximity. “So... he went out and there's a shot. We just thought, I dunno, he got scared of some shadow.” “What. Kind. Of shit. Happened?” “It was like... We all went into the jungle and no one else came out, boss, I don't really know what the fuck happened. Everyone got dead and some little bitch jumped Ivy and killed him so I got away. There was five of us and they dead.” At the pirate's hastily spoken words Vaas' brow crinkled again in equal parts confusion and existing fury. Some little bitch? That just didn't sound right to him, Red wasn't little. “Chu mean, it was a little bitch? The redhead one uh? There's two bitches.” “No boss, the other one. The fuckin', the little one, Blondie.” “Then where the fuck was Red?” The pirate gave a helpless shrug, not daring to meet Vaas' eyes right then. He didn't need to look to know what kind of mad fury would be dancing there and all directed at him. It was Vaas' way. The phrase “don't shoot the messenger” meant fuck-all to Vaas Montenegro, and to be the unfortunate sucker to be that messenger usually meant your life ended there. “So... ok, hermano. This is what I heard right now, ok? You had six fucking guys out there, yeah? And you don't know how but they got dead. And you saw the bitch that did it. You saw Blondie, all alone, out in the fucking jungle, and you turned around and fucking ran?!” The boss' voice had risen to a shout that echoed through the camp as his voice always did, making it known to every single man in camp that the boss was back. “You caught the bitch red-FUCKING-handed and you didn't do SHIT about it?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! ...It's ok, man.” Without warning Vaas stepped away and ran a hand over his rather disheveled mohawk, nodding to himself. “I ain't mad at you hermano, is been a long fucking day uh?” In total incomprehension the Jamaican pirate blinked once, twice, three times as he stared up at Vaas. He wasn't going to die? Vaas looked for all the world just dog-tired and bemused now, even offering him a hand up off his perch. “Yeah... long day,” He agreed, letting out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in a shaky laugh. That was it, he was ok. As if it were perfectly natural Vaas pulled the man to his feet and clapped a hand on the back of his neck, throwing the arm over his shoulders and nearly making him stumble with the sudden added weight of the king's massive bicep. If the Jamaican had wanted to go anywhere he wasn't now, already knowing how futile it was to try and free oneself from Vaas' grip when he'd decided he wanted to drag you somewhere. “Ey, you know what hermano? You can have the night off too.” “For real?” “Yeah... for real.” Vaas' other hand rose up lightning fast to grip the other side of the captive pirate's head and gave a mighty wrench, his neck making a sickening crack that was audible to everyone nearby before Vaas simply released the man, dead before he ever hit the ground. “Anybody else wanna pull some shit like that? Uh?” He called out, gesturing to the dead pirate at his feet. “You see a bitch, you fucking catch the bitch. You don't tuck your dick between your legs and fucking RUN!”

Of course it was a roadblock. They may have been pirates but it didn't mean they were entirely stupid...then again. They were blocking the road of all places in an attempt to recapture two slaves that were traveling most likely on foot. Two slaves whom were probably more likely to be found anywhere else but on the road. Unless the roadblock wasn't for them? Who else they could possibly wish to intercept was anyone's question at this point. This island had a great deal of people on it and who knew just what sort of people they were, especially those Rakyat sort. Especially them. But they weren't important right now...what was important was getting to that old Doctor's house and praying that he helped them and kept his mouth shut about it. But the more Sorcha thought about that the less hopeful she became...there was not a soul on this rock that was willing to help them without some kind of favor done in turn for them. Dennis helped them seemingly for nothing until it wasn't anymore and they found themselves being stared down by some jungle cunt with big men surrounding her. Talking all kinds of nonsense about warriors and paths and bullshit like that. Yet it wasn't rightly clear what the woman wanted from them and rightly they wouldn't know until they brought her the things she asked for. Which just wasn't going to happen if she had any say in the matter. Those lot....they looked nice when they smiled, but it was always the cute ones that bit the hardest. And the fact that Ash wanted to trust them made her sting with anger. And she wondered if this doctor would be no different, just what was he going to want from them in return for his services? They'd be damn lucky if they ever got to find out....with men like Vaas out there and angry about it. When the pirate turned to look into the jungle for his lost friend Sorcha hissed quietly, drawing back away form sight and into the cover of the leaves with Ash, who said something about a map. Quickly Sorcha looked with certain motherly intensity at the shadows behind her, absent Ash. Her heart hammered in an instant as a pure and utter confusion washed over her. Ash was gone? Why was she gone? She didn't even know what to do about it either....her mind was a blank as wide eyes drifted back to find the heavy footsteps of said pirate coming to look for his lost buddy named Juan. Sorcha wanted to call out to her friend but not at the expense of these men hearing her, somewhere in her heart she knew these men would not be kind enough to take them back to Vaas right away and the very idea of that caused another shudder as she pressed back into the leaves, biting her lips shut as she covered her nose with her hand to stifle the noise of heavy breaths as he passed by her without notice. But he was just one of five and for what felt like the longest time she was frozen in hiding as each pair of feet passed by. When they had gone into the embrace of the jungle she finally emerged, scrambling quickly out without even making sure that there was in fact no others hanging around. And standing at the jungles edge she still was unsure of what to do in that moment as her hands racked through the loose strands of her hair ridden with burs and leaves and dirt.

Sorcha knew Ash was in there alone in the dark with four armed men who all were a lot bigger then she was. And quietly she cursed the girl for doing something so utterly stupid but in her mind she knew going in there after her wasn't the best option, not in her condition. But leaving her in there felt like an even worse one. What sort of friend was she if she didn't go running to protect her? Yet she stepped backwards into the road, moving sluggishly towards the jeep. Maybe there was something in there that could help her? Ash had told her to get the map...but what good was a map if she died before she ever got to have a closer look at it. But maybe...maybe there was grenades in the trucks. She'd seen them walking with those dangling at their hips, hell even that fat fuck she stabbed in the face had them...but she hadn't thought to grab them in light of the situation at that moment. Ash was in trouble so she'd left the man to rot with all his worldly possessions, now she was in trouble again. And again Sorcha had to do something.

“Goddamn it Ash.” Sorcha growled as she pivoted on her heels and ripped open the jeep door and toppled down into the drivers seat. Climbing over the stick shift she was upside down, peering beneath the seat at a collection of beer cans and bottles and wrappers from snacks and something that utterly smelt dead. The last thing she was going to do was reach under there and coming back up she cringed against the pain in her chest as she flung open the latch of the glove box next, only for the entire drawer to come topple down on her knee's from years of neglect and being over stuff with all manner of shit. Hissing quietly she reached downward, jostling the drawer onto the jeep's floor as she picked at the contents of it. Fingers grabbed at the trash inside of it, throwing crumbled wrappers and papers that probably weren't important in a pirates hands until they closed around a small, opened box, and pulling it out slowly she blinked at the black box unable to make out the words of the brand without squinting against the sudden blurring her eyes often turned to when looking at letters without her glasses. In that moment she realized she'd gone without them for days and she wondered what had even happened to them... but knowing these men they probably had smashed them into pieces by now. After all what does a sex slave need reading glasses for anyway? Right annoying for her right about that moment in time as she brought the box nearly to the bridge of her nose, squinting at the dark little gold letters that the darkness was doing absolutely no help in deciphering and tilting her head she caught the faint shape of a T. Blinking a little harder the R and O became slightly visible as her headache sharply worsened and she leaned back from the box, fingers dipping into the box instead to find it's contents rather then trying to read what it was.

Second's later she pulled out the string of little packages, vacuum sealed around something round set inside and instantly she dropped the contents of her hands in realization of what they and it were. And growling in mild disgust she returned to her frantic task, producing a can of dog food next, which also was thrown into the drivers seat. More trash followed to which she threw into the road instead, another box with weight that by the clink of its contents told her it was bullets of some sort – possibly useful. Throwing them into the drivers seat as well her fingers closed around another light box, what she assumed was yet another box of condoms she'd made to throw it onto the floor only to realize the box was a familiar white and red color and a cheeky looking camel adorned it's face. Cigarettes. She thought and calmly stuffed the box into her bikini instead before her fingers grazed upon something cold and metallic. Ripping her hand back at first her heart skipped a beat at the idea that it might have been another needle or even some sort of dirty knife but a closer lean in at the dark little drawer told her the object was slightly rounded. And with widened eyes she felt a flutter in her stomach as she reached for it, wondering if it could honestly be what she'd been looking for in the first place? “Christ there is a God and he loves me.” Sorcha whispered, producing the heavy grenade from the glove box. Now if only she knew how to properly use it... but there was no time to actually think about that one when the suddenly fire of an AK from the jungle startled her straight out of the jeep's passenger seat. Ash! Sorcha's heart was hammering again as her vision swam and she began around the jeep's hood in the direction of the gunshots, fearing the worst for her friend. “Ash!” Sorcha shouted as the sudden flash of headlights blinded her when a vehicle veered around the corner at a speed that she was certain was dangerous on such a narrow and winding road. “Shit!” The redhead cursed and moved back, colliding with the jeep's body as she ducked down behind it, crawling quickly to the rear of the jeep, and huddling down to cling to the car's rear tire as the new vehicle sped past, careening dangerously into the grass to maneuver around the sudden roadblock and rumbling back onto the road while also clipping the jeep and by proxy knocking Sorcha over in the process when the butt of the jeep was jostled into her direction to accommodate for the force the other had directed into it. Hitting the dirt she scrambled up to her feet again, watching as the other vehicle continued casually down a road that she could see was widening and shrinking and stretching further and further away. And blinking slowly again she shook her head to shake the disturbance in her vision. Those weren't pirates...they would have stopped. She told herself as she jogged back across the road, running quickly to the edge of the jungle with the grenade ready.

But something about the sight of the darkened treeline made her stop dead in her tracks as something in the darkness turned suddenly and almost seemed to glide behind the cover of a tree. Something that looked like it was on legs. Tension rose in her shoulders as she breathed heavy through her nose, fingers falling upon the stolen radio upon her belt, as a feeling of dread sank into the pit of her stomach. The last thing she wanted to do was to tune in to the news that her friend had been shot and wounded or worse shot dead to the glee of who ever the asshole was to do it, but part of her knew that if she was broadcasting chatter and or more of Vaas' death threats then whom ever was hiding behind that tree might just mistake her for a pirate...or if she was lucky for Vaas himself. If whatever that was was even human at all. And turning the knob with a flick of her fingers the radio pinged to life as she ripped out the first handgun she found with her other hand, which happened to be the Kimber Aegis II she'd bought from the shop in Amanaki. She'd never fired it before and couldn't be certain how it handled considering it was new … and possibly clogged with dust and other grime from sitting around, while also being a completely different beast from Vaas' well maintained little Kimber Warrior. If there was anything Ash had taunt her about gun care it was that “a gun was a gun” was an entirely false statement, and any new weapon needed to be handled with extreme care. And bringing her hand to cup the bottom of the handle upon the 1911 she moved slowly into the tree line with eyes set upon the place where the shadow had ducked behind and holding her breath she listened to her surroundings. Silence. It was too quiet around here, especially after that spray by the AK. Far too quiet indeed and quickly she turned around the tree, finger finding the trigger as she expelled her breath only to find more jungle and such and no two legged body in sight. But it offered her no comfort as she felt that feeling of being watched....rather intensely at that yet no matter where her eyes scanned she couldn't see anything of worth in the poor lighting. But she knew that something...someone was there, watching her. Then quietly she paused as a leaf zipped down, grazing against the tip of her nose, and stalling her breathing again before her eyes turned upwards into the milky blue black patches of the side and black swaying branches of the canopy above.

How did it go up so quickly? That was the thought that ran through her mind as she stared into the dark abyss above her head, bringing the handgun to aim upwards cautiously. “I know you're up there!” Sorcha snapped, trying her best to sound as intimidating as possible but she could hardly mask the pain and exhaustion in her tones. And almost immediately in response the branches moved violently as the shadow, choosing no longer to blend in, almost looked as if it was lunging for her and full instinct had taken over and drove Sorcha to gasp and stumble backwards before running quickly out of the tree line and into open air where she could see better, and with the gun trained on the branches of the tree she waited for it to come out...but it didn't. Instead it was Ash's voice to signal her return. But the tension hardly left her as her eyes snapped onto the blood spattered blonde come running from the jungle with bloody knife in toe. She didn't need to ask her what had happened obviously...but it didn't make her relieved and it didn't make her happy to see her. Only miffed that the girl would just run off like that by the seat of her pants and go play Rambo against four very armed men. And lowering the Aegis she shoved it back into her belt. “Christ, you scared the fuck out of me!” Sorcha growled, hand rising up to wiped across her face, while her eyes narrowed at the girl, “What in the hell were you thinking!?”

'Ey! Boss! BOSS!' The radio had crackled to life just in time to save Ash from the verbal Southern lashing she was about to receive and Sorcha's eyes dropped to the little device upon her belt with apprehension. 'What?' Vaas rasped in response, sounding for the world like the dead themselves. 'You at the Cliffside right? Shit's happened?” The redhead glanced upwards to find Ash's face, and judging from it Sorcha assumed that this chatter was about what had just gone down in that jungle. And an obvious loose tie and well... remained loose. This nightmare was far from over but hell be damned if they weren't prepared for the storm this time and sighing out through her nostrils Sorcha glanced once back at the tree's where that something might still have been, but whatever it was it wasn't important seeing as it was clearly minding it's own business. “Get in the jeep.” Sorcha ordered, turning on her feet and hobbling across the grassy bank back towards the Jeep she'd been in the process of ransacking. “There's ammo and other junk...and I found a Grenade.” She added, holding up the object for her to see briefly. -

Benny cringed at Vaas' words, knowing full well the man was probably more serious then he ever was before. He didn't doubt him for a moment that he would end that girl if he got his hands around her neck, nor that he'd make her watch him do unspeakably horrible things to the blonde til she died of trauma, exposure, or mere shock alone. That was the kind of man that Vaas was and it wouldn't have been the first time he'd turned savage on a slave or on a guy who got too cocky with him. There were many levels to Vaas, each one different in their methods...but it took a certain amount of provocation to bring out the real beast in him. And it was an ugly beast indeed that Benny rightly just did not want to lay eyes on ever again. Vaas had leaned against him, turning old faithful Benny into his human walking stick for a moment while the pirate reached back to holster a grip upon the straps of his Boss' wifebeater to help him stay a float, after all the last thing that anyone wanted was for Vaas to literally fall down and rip open whatever already strained stitches that were still intact – and literally holding all of him inside of him. “Ey, you don't mean that.” Benny reminded him sternly, “Hoyt wants his money – and he'll take it out of our asses if he can't take it out of theirs.” Benny paused, feeling like an absolutely horrible person to even speak about such things but continued on with his act, “Better them then us right? They got the parts for that.” He really was going to hell he felt it in his bones. When the shot rang out instinctively Benny's eyes gazed off into the direction of the sound as Vaas wigged out in his usual, highly paranoid way when something happened that he perceived as odd. Usually though, that paranoia was justified, Vaas did still have a Tatau adorned upon his arm and though Benny hardly believed in magic ...he believed that that thing had a way to it. He'd seen Vaas run into bad situations with an obvious death wish and come walking out without so much a scratch before and everyone dead behind him, he'd seen him walk on a broken leg without so much as a complaint, he'd seen him take a shotgun blast to the chest at point blank range and be out running with Carlos and Mauve the next morning when they were all so sure that he was dead. No magic wasn't a thing he had room for in his mind...but it was hard not to buy into that native bullshit sometimes when one saw it in action on more then one occasion. But despite all this he still worried about the amount of blood the Boss was painting the white roses with so to speak and quickly the American Mercenary jogged after him, but the irony of it all almost made him smile while he watched Vaas shuffle off. He looked exactly like that redhead did, ambling about like some creature from Night of the Living Dead, bleeding all his juice all over the place, despite all the injury and the pain still moving along at a brisk pace with a destination in mind. But Vaas had his nerve to get mad about her doing to him what had already been done to her. But again it only reenforced Benny's belief in that mystical voodoo bullshit ink that they now both wore...for some fucking reason it just kept them going when they should have been dead.

But the night was far from over when they had returned to Cliffside after a frantic cry for help over the radio waves had sent Vaas into some kind of state that Benny could already vouch that no one was gonna like, himself included. But at least he'd finally gotten the radio from him...even if Vaas had to drop it for such a seemingly simple task to be achieved. And upon arrival Benny had seen the ghost faced pirate patrolman sat upon the junkyard looking shell that had just kinda been left to rust in the yard, knowing full well this guy used to be damn near black in skin tone but now looked more like a mocha instead. That alone spoke for itself...but the situation was about of Benny's hands at this point and he did what the rest did. He stood close by and listen and watched as the poor guy tried to explain himself in the face of the snarling demon that was practically drooling on him and baring his teeth. But in reality it wasn't hard to notice when you fucked up and your punishment was coming on swift wings. See the thing with Vaas was, if he was still yelling at you you were still safe...it was when he stopped that meant the world was just about to end for you, and only a few special people had ever managed to turn the tides into their favor when Vaas was done with them. Of course logic and smarts didn't come around these parts often and when Vaas' tone suddenly shifted Benny already knew what was coming and he steeled himself with a hand laid upon his belt and he looked away as the crack of bone erupted through the air, silencing any snickering, giggling, snorting, or small talk that had been happening around.

In a second all his men stood at full attention, alert, focused, and armed while the bellowed out to them their single and final warning. You see a bitch you catch the bitch. There was no in between, no running away, if you got shot you better just get your ass up do your job, there ain't no mess with em first before bringing them home either. Vaas had made it perfectly clear who had claim over them girls, he himself and him. And by proxy...Hoyt. Speaking of Hoyt... “Eyyy mon! Dont you worry nuttin, if I see em I make sure dey nevah walk again!” A voice had rang out from higher ground from the resident Sniper of Cliffside whom everyone had nicknamed “Happy” for his incessantly cheerful demeanor no matter what he happened to be doing...and obviously not even what was happening around him ever threw a damper on his good mood. But Benny thanked the man for distracting Vaas, whom either was about to have a painful laugh or shout out the guy to shut the fuck up, didn't matter which while Benny quietly dismissed himself and strolled down the hillside just out of earshot as he produced his phone and punched in the speed dial. “Hoyt... it's Benny. No...Vaas' Benny. Yes. Listen...Vaas got on the wrong side of a bullet again. It was a...hunting accident. He's alive but he ain't done himself no favors let's just say that, all the tweeking. We're gonna take him in the morning...but I'm not sure he'll make it through the night – he's lost a lot of blood... yes sir I will.”

Sorcha was angry, that much Ash could tell from a glance at the girl. And to a point she could understand exactly why, understood perfectly well how dangerous what she'd just done had been. Hell, hadn't it almost gone badly toward the end? But what was done, was done now, leaving them with a jungle full of only bodies and whatever else lurked about. Not to mention the radio chatter. That runaway man had certainly wasted no time in tattling to the boss, but at the very least it was unlikely Vaas himself would reemerge to play for the moment. “You're teacupping,” She noted almost absentmindedly, nodding toward the grip Sorcha held on the handgun as she jogged for the driver's seat. A grenade, though. Not at all as if they couldn't find a good use for that here, making it a definite welcome sight. With a quick look around them to ensure they were still without red-garbed visitors, Ash paused to comb through the 'ammo and other junk' Sorcha had mentioned. A disorganized box of ammo for an AK47, she read off the box after a few moments of squinting at the faded lettering. Fantastic, they'd need all the bullets they could get. This she left in the front seat, pushed over to the side. A can of dog food, noted with a confused grimace as she glanced over the can before tossing it in the backseat. They didn't have a dog and that was unlikely to change, but one never knew. Without much forethought she held up the string of condoms, realizing what they were after a split second of confused staring. “Oh, ick,” She muttered with a wrinkled nose, tossing the condoms over her shoulder to land carelessly on the side of the road. Back to business then. Driver's seat cleared now, Ash scooted up into place and yanked down the map to spread out over the steering wheel, casting another glance up at the jungle nearby to scan for anything amiss. It was enough to give her pause, feeling for all the world like the place was watching them somehow... But nothing emerged or looked strange enough to deserve any further thought. And they had places to be. Namely Dr. Earnhardt's, and with that she returned her attention to the worn map. Thank whatever god must have been watching over them at the moment, the map was labeled in marker with messy, spiky penmanship. The sight of a place labeled 'cliffsid overlook' too close for comfort had her reaching for the keys in the ignition to bring the Jeep rumbling to life, yet another suspicious glare sent out at the surrounding area. Never mind the fact that the pirate driving had simply left his keys so helpfully in place... No one had accused these men of being smart, she supposed. But that runaway had mentioned the cliffside specifically and that made her more than a bit nervous now, hastening her attempts to locate the doctor's. The moment she'd found the jumbled letters reading 'doc e', she almost had to laugh out loud and not because of the cramped writing. As Dennis had said, it was in fact past Amanaki village, but so out of the way that Ash was sure they may never have found the damn place on their own. “At least it exists.” And their stolen Jeep was a hell of a lot faster than trying to walk there. For a few moments more she waited to push the car into gear, eyes still poring over the map to memorize the way there as she chewed down on her lip absentmindedly. It was a winding way no matter what direction she chose to take, but ultimately the one that didn't take them past 'amanaki outpost' was by far the better option. Still very much feeling like the jungle darkness had eyes somehow, it brought no shortage of relief to bring the vehicle around to begin the drive the opposite way. The roads, there's cliffs. The realization dawned on her only after she'd begun pressing more heavily on the gas, and quickly she eased up as they reached the first curve in the road, one that ran right alongside the river she'd only seen once they were right at the edge. Apparently not even the roads could be safe in this place, a fact that didn't even surprise her after everything else they'd seen. In one small show of some kind of small blessings, the questionable roads were for the most part the only real danger with the painted Jeep in their possession. The other Jeep had been emblazoned with the strange eye marking as well, and Ash would hazard a guess that the other vehicles in possession of Vaas' men would also be painted the same way, red with the staring eye on the hood. Little wonder no one would look twice at the speeding Jeep. In the light of day the drive might not have been so bad, but between the rational fear of more pirates and whatever it was lurking about in the jungle darkness it made for what felt like an eternity of winding roads. Atop the cliffs faint lights could be seen in the windows of the house, which was in fact much bigger than Ash had been expecting. Already they'd passed by several small shacks and this was most decidedly anything but that. Even from the base of the cliff it was obvious the house was much bigger than the standard living spaces on the island, and as they'd driven by she was almost positive there was even a gazebo overlooking the edge. Too late the headlights illuminated the dilapidated fence blocking access to the rest of the road, and with a harshly muttered swear Ash brought the Jeep to a grinding halt, the slight impact thankfully not seeming to cause any damage. “Sorry, I wasn't... I didn't see it. But it looks like we're walking from here.” But they were here, at least. That meant volumes enough to her. This time when the Jeep was turned off, Ash opted not to simply leave the keys in the ignition, instead shoving them into her back pocket as she exited the car finally. The AK47 she shouldered again as she paused to scoop up the box of bullets Sorcha had found; if this doctor was friendly then they'd have time to reload the magazines and that was a stroke of luck by itself. Cautiously she padded forward to the gate, ducking the bent metal to squint into the darkness ahead and listen. Up here it was silent save for the occasional bird call or sound from elsewhere that had drifted over on the wind, nothing showing her a reason to turn back now that they'd come so far. “Looks ok,” Ash called back only loudly enough to be sure Sorcha heard her as she continued forward to survey the rest of the area once before doubling back to hold the gate open more. The redhead still looked about as worse for the wear as she must have felt and it was enough to cause a pang of something Ash couldn't quite place, like a combination of sympathy and guilt. “Just about there now... There's a path leading up to the house.”

Happy. Vaas knew that damn voice anywhere and despite his piss-poor mood he still found his mouth turning up into a grin at the man's reassurances. His good mood was infectious as ever, and in his blitzed mind the sight of that smiley face bandana was more than enough to have him smiling too. “Yeah? No, I mean don't like... fuck them up all bad, s'my job. You just take out a leg or something, man, you do you. EY! Someone clean this fucking shit up, uh?” He added in a bark, having stumbled to face the dead man again and gesture at him ineffectively. “Fuck, man, you guys don't clean up after yourselves like goddamn children. Ain't your maid...” And with that Vaas was shuffling back for the outpost door on pure autopilot mode now. Where Benny had slithered off to, he didn't know and didn't much care at the moment anyway. Benny was not a bed and a bed was what Vaas wanted most right now. This day had just gone from slightly shitty to a gigantic clusterfuck in barely the time it took to blink and it was safe to say Vaas was simply done with it all. At this point he was too drained to even keep being angry, too drained to even imagine what all he was going to do when he got his hands on two little girls and hopefully he was just drained enough that sleep would bring him no dreams this time around. Upon finally reaching the bloodied cot he'd laid on earlier he simply deposited himself onto it in a bodily slump forward, not caring that the position he landed in looked uncomfortable enough to make a normal man cringe at the sight alone. Blindly his hand crept out over the floor until it found a smooth glass surface, fingers dragging the bottle up to his lips to keep tipping upwards until he finally realized he was receiving no rum because it was empty already. “And I need more rum!” He announced to no one, about two seconds before crashing to sleep and making the demand effectively moot. He wouldn't be down for too long, Vaas never was... But some time at all was more than anyone could ever hope for on even a good day.

It all just seemed so tranquil and easy up here Ash almost didn't believe it was real, didn't trust that any part of this hell of an island could be so peaceful and yet, the closer they crept toward the house the more it seemed that it just was. The air carried only the sounds of some wind chime adorning some part of the house outside and the movement came from the spinning mobiles out in the lawn. In fact the only way it was immediately obvious to her that they were still in the same place was the boarded up windows on the front doors, protecting what she could tell through the slats was stained glass. With a glance at her redhead companion to bolster her nerves Ash rose a hand to knock, stepping back a respectable distance to wait on an answer. As an afterthought she began to lower the rifle, stopping halfway in doing so as her mind began racing again. Don't do it, what if he's not friendly? But then what if he IS and I scare off the only chance for help we've got? So lost in her thoughts, she almost didn't even notice when the door opened to an older man peering at the two girls above the glasses resting atop his nose. For a moment there was nothing but silence until he cleared his throat, jarring the blonde from her internal debate. “Can I help you?” “You're Doctor Earnhardt...? Dennis said you could help us.” “I am. Oh dear.” With a slight frown he took in both their disheveled appearances, most notably Sorcha's with as dead on her feet as she looked. “Dennis you said? Yes yes, come in then.”

#far cry 3 #fc3 #fanfic #lions and lambs #chapt 7 #vaas montenegro #oc's #hoyt volker #benny #rakyat #citra talugmai #dennis rogers #dr. earnhardt

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maleficfiction · 10 years

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Lions and Lambs Chapter 7; The First Day: Path of the Hunted Part 1

Title: Lions and Lambs Pairing: Oc x Hoyt / Oc x Vaas / Doug x Vaas (Bromance) Time: AU / Prequel Rating: Mature

Benny

That was all Vaas needed to say to have the bald American's undivided attention. It'd been nearly an hour since they had both climbed out of the truck with guns at the ready and entered into their hunting ground. Only to have nothing but bugs feasting upon them. The jungle was always quiet around the temple, but only around the temple. Walk five paces outwards and suddenly the birds were singing and the monkeys howlin', pussies purring. It was weird, something that Benny didn't quite understand nor had an explanation for. It just seemed like nature knew to stay away from that barbarian hideaway. Like there was something in there that they rightly didn't want to be on the business end of...so they all fluttered and flapped away. Benny realized it probably had something to do with that jungle whore Vaas called his sister. Benny had nothing against Citra or her kind...but it was just so hard to have a high opinion of the woman when all he heard was Vaas' ever fluctuating side of the story, it was almost like Vaas didn't even know what had actually happened between he and his sibling, Benny didn't doubt that that was the truth either. But Benny had to respect the woman for holding strong for as long and as fiercely as she had...yeah she was loosing this war – but if she wasn't going down fighting then the was Kermit the Frog. But Benny always did wonder about her, being so close to her temple and everything it was hard not too. She was like the white elephant in the room that wasn't actually present...but she was all at once...and you just didn't talk about her in earshot of Vaas. Some of the men claimed to have seen her or fucked her, acted so proud of themselves as if it was the greatest conquest of their lives...even if it was a heaping pile of steaming shit. In reality it was that no one had ever truly seen Citra herself and if they said they had they were lying, plain and simple. But Benny had seen her in grainy photographs that his boss managed to snap from tree's. Ah the idea of that all American asshole halfway up a tree with his old shitty camera still made Benny smile as he turned right on his heels to address the hound who called him to attention.

Just one look at that tore up motherfucker was enough to wipe the grin off of Benny's face. He knew that look. And that was the bad look. The kind of look that a cat got...all big black eyes and tense posture having spied a cricket in the grass or some shit like that. But imagine that a thousand times worse...and anything but cute. Vaas wasn't no house cat, he was a tyrannical tiger prowling around in his territory who hadn't eaten for days – that's the kind of look he saw when he looked at him. And just the idea that those girl's were close by practically had the boss drooling and foaming at the mouth. And what Vaas had to say was even worse. Did he know what bitch smelt like? Yeah... Benny sure did. It smelt like blood and violence and inhumanity is what it did and he gave a slow nod while he looked sidelong down the slope and into the tangle of tree's and bushes where his boss indicated too. The senses on that man were frightening to say the least. That was why the men preferred to have him out hunting with them. Vaas needed so little to find what he was looking for in the jungle, could have been something completely insignificant that would lead them right to a herd of goats. Or something so small as a tiny ripple that produced a crocodile. And even just some vague scent on the wind that no one else could smell but him would lead them right to a couple of scared, misplaced little girls who done nothing but try their hardest to survive this unholy nightmare. That was what scared Benny the most...but he had a reputation to uphold and though he hated everything about his character and helping to make those girl's lives just a little more hellish...at the end of the day he was still a pirate like the rest of them. He still had a job to do if this was ever going to end.

“Smells like mama's hot cherry pie.” Benny replied crudely with a snark laugh as he bolstered his rifle against his shoulder while he reached down to retrieve his walkie from his belt...but he dread the words that would come but of his mouth next. As Vaas began to lope down the hill Benny followed behind him with no amount of grace. He was a heavy footed individual like most of the other pirates and he more or less stomped against gravity's push down the incline after the suddenly distant red shirted raider who moved with the slow grace of a cat in its own habitat. “Hey assholes, it's Benny.” The America spat into the walkie which clicked and chimed when the button was held down to transmit his message, ”Boss wants you in the jungle all nice and quiet like, the sluts are heading in your direction. You cut em off at the Outpost, we'll come up the rear, box em in. Don't any of you assholes kill em, watch your aim.”. If there was one thing that Benny was known for it was his guerillas tactics....but even so, to use them on two city women with no idea what direction was up? That was overkill.

There was little else to think of in that moment when his shouting ceased, having done its part in announcing his presence. But why? If he was trying to catch them...why did he announce himself? Because he wants you to run. Running was the only option wasn't it? The only logical one, the only thing human instinct defaulted to when one was scared and in unfamiliar territory. He wanted to chase them down, he wanted to hunt them. That was why, he was playing some twisted sycophantic game of cat and mouse with she and her companion. But maybe she was already sick of running, sick of him and all of his bullshit. But was really standing up to him the best option right now? She'd done it twice now...and each time it seemed like he came back with a hotter vengeance then before. The first time her defiance had gotten her shot. And the second...well only he knew how that was going to end...if pulling at her clothes was any indicator of that. Even so, he had jumped from wanting her dead to just ...wanting her. And that was a thought that left her shivering as she was wrenched back into the cover of the bush that Ash had spied and as she lowered down to her knee's she drew in a deep breath and held it as her fingers tentatively touched the stems of the bush to stop them from moving and possibly alerting him to their hiding place. And it was here that she felt truly trapped, like some dumb animal who didn't know how to do anything else other then hid in nature's bosom while the predator lurked freely just an arms reach away. She wanted to run just as much as the next broad would but she steeled herself as she covered her mouth to exhale her shaking breath into it and draw in another to hold.

He came meandering into sight, closer and closer, with that fuck ugly shirt on and his stupid proud walk. He really thought he had them didn't he? Had them trapped in this jungle with only so many places to hide before the sun went down? Oh she didn't doubt that he'd played this very same game before, hunting down some poor soul that had run himself to exhaustion. That was probably what he was trying to do right now, run them ragged so they would make mistakes and leave more obvious trails and all the while he'd just be taking a nice stroll around his island. Eventually he knew he would come across one or both of them, far to tired to be going, totally unable to fight back. It made her sick all of it. She nor her sister were cattle for his boss to sell off to the highest bidder or send to slaughter. They were not his mice to chase around this blasted island before he decided he was hungry. He thought he'd won...but he was far from the finish line. And the more he talked the more what semblance of fear that strangled her chest began to morph into nothing short of anger, and those hoarse, rattling breaths of her turned bullish as she looked down at the handgun in her grasp as she breathed into the crook of her elbow instead to stifle the sound. Shooting him while he wasn't expecting it would have been the easy way out of here. But when the other one came suddenly into sight Sorcha bit hard upon her lip in frustration as she dug the pistol down into the earth but never once did she look away from where the pirate wandered. Ash was always better under stress then she was, a benefit of coming from a shitty situation where one had to learn to bit their cheek and put their head down. But Sorcha's way of dealing with things was far different, Ash was a rock and Sorcha was all fire and when there was a problem...she burned it out of her life.

Then something hard was pushed into her hand and she froze, pausing just long enough to glanced down to find the rock sitting rough against her open palm. And then she looked at Ash in mere confusion. A rock? What did she need to have a rock for? A few seconds later revived the memories of the encampment and how they'd escaped by throwing these things against walls and drawing their attention and slowly Sorcha nodded, fingers coiling around the smooth item – bringing truth to Dennis statement. Two heads were better then one. And looking back she'd steadied the rock in her grasp, weighed it, and watched as the pirate king suddenly froze – head tilting slightly. She knew that wasn't normal...and she knew he had to have heard the rustling of the bed of leaves underneath them. It truly was now or never but just as she had raised the rock there was a louder rustle at her back that stayed her hand. And sucking in a sharp breath through her nose her head turned to glance past her shoulder, watching as three sets of combat shoes whisked by – not as silently as Vaas walked but silently enough.

We're surrounded...

Sorcha cursed quietly. Knowing that even if this plan had worked against him...the second that rifle fired off they all would swarm like angry ants right on top of them. And they were just two women despite Dennis' grand expectations. They were not warriors here, and this was a battle they were going to lose if they tried to fight. So...they had to run. But there was no time inform her companion of the change plan as she looked back at the rock and back at the pirate, glancing sidelong to the second as he turned his back. “Move...” She whispered, watching Benny closely as he finally ambled behind a tree.

“I heard that.” Vaas suddenly hissed as he came towards the bush, at a much quicker pace then anyone expected him to walk, his grin wide like an excited child about to receive some long sought after cookie out of the jar. “Fuck it...” The redhead leapt out from the bush like a snake in the grass, appearing before the taller pirate in the split of a second as the rock she held collided with the side of his face and his heavy frame toppled to the side. Sorcha helped him the rest of the way, hands shoving him violently down to the ground as she straddled his shoulders beneath her legs and stifled any noise form his mouth with her hand over his lips and noise. She cringed as the dazed pirate groped at her but was far too dizzy to actually find a solid grip on any part of her and she dodged his hands while pressing her entire weight down upon his upper chest, frantically looking left to right and praying that none of the other pirates had heard the sudden tussle.

“They're in the trees.” Sorcha hissed, holding her fingers to her lips, “Go. Quietly.”

“Hey boss!” Benny suddenly yelled from where he'd disappeared behind the tree, “I don't think they're here anymore.....boss?”

I heard that. Forget all the rashly improvised plans made just now if Vaas continued walking their way with that 'cat playing with its food' expression he wore, Ash frankly saw no other option than to just open fire on him. Just as she'd drawn in a shaky breath to steel herself and do exactly that, however, beside her Sorcha sprang into action and brought the rock in her hand cracking against Vaas' face. Oh God no. This was definitely not how she'd wanted this to go down, and yet- one glance at the pirate's unfocused eyes told her the man was likely seeing double from the force of Sorcha's blow, and combined with her silencing any noises he might have made... This could just work after all. Letting out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, Ash rose from the hiding spot to quickly scan the treeline. She'd heard the men walking around just a moment ago as well, but as of yet they hadn't shown themselves. Which meant it was time to make their escape before they chose to do so, and found their fallen boss along with the escapees. Thankfully even after the near heart attack she was sure she'd almost suffered Ash still knew which direction they needed to go, heeding Sorcha's advice to stay quiet and simply motioned for the redhead to leave the pirate boss and start moving along with her. Their advantage here would only last so long, as she didn't doubt for a moment that Vaas wouldn't be right back on his feet and more angry than ever in a matter of moments. It would only spell trouble for either girl to hang around. Those thoughts in mind, Ash wasted no time in reminding herself to move quickly for the west again, not daring to break into a sprint just yet for fear of the men amongst the trees hearing before she was ready. "'Ey!" A thickly-accented voice shouted from her right, draining the color from the blonde's face immediately. So much for the best-laid plans. Not even a few yards away a dreadlocked man bearing a shotgun started after the two, raising his weapon as a wicked grin spread over his face. In the same instant Ash lifted the rifle she'd been clenching in her hands, going back to a hunting rifle she'd learned to shoot years before. Can't be that different. On some level she vaguely wondered if it ought to worry her that the thought of shooting this man before them flat out didn't bother her in the slightest, but for the moment it was yet another thought she simply pushed aside for later. It turned out the difference between the two rifles was fairly significant anyway, she discovered upon laying on the trigger before the pirate could get a shot off. While the man went down in a pulverized heap, both the recoil and the sound of the gunshots were far greater than she'd expected. Not to mention the crack of his shotgun firing off at nothing as he fell, it all but held up a neon sign displaying where the girls were. "Oh shit," She breathed out, hearing the other two in the near distance and knowing there would be more to come now. Quiet was no longer an option here, and therefore it only seemed wise to turn and flee as fast as she and Sorcha's legs would carry them. Don't look back, was all Ash could tell herself as she ran forward into the unfamiliar terrain. You saw it all the time even in movies, the ones that got caught in chases like this were always the ones that looked back at their pursuers. It seemed like such an easy rule to keep, and yet every instinct kept screaming at her to turn her head to check if they were clear despite what logic dictated. Twice now she'd already glanced back and found the coast clear still, but with the two pirates shouting back to one another not far behind she knew it wouldn't stay clear for long. And in the distance a third, even less welcome pirate's shouting could be heard, although she couldn't make out the words through the rush of wind and the pounding of her own heartbeat in her ears. At this point the only plan Ash could conceive of was to somehow lose their pursuers in the trees, but even that seemed unlikely with how well they had to know the area. - Why Vaas found himself surprised to have been attacked by the redhead again, he just plain didn't know. It honestly was sort of hazy from the moment Red had leapt from the bush- one moment there seemed nothing amiss about it except for the fact he knew it concealed two little girls, and the next Sorcha had brought something hard to smash into his temple. Down he'd gone like a sack of bricks, and from somewhere far away he had tried to shout some obscenity at the girl but found that his mouth didn't work, as though he was trying to speak through a gag. Dimly he'd realized it was again Red's handiwork as she stifled his words and even his breathing, ignoring his dizzied attempts at fighting her off him. And just like that she was gone again before Vaas had managed to get his wits fully about him, leaving him to roll onto his stomach and push himself up with a snarl. That bitch just kept pulling fast ones on him, but he was going to make goddamn sure she didn't again. "BENNY! Where the fuck you at?" As if in answer, the rapidfire cracks of an assault rifle and the bang of a shotgun sounded from further into the jungle, prompting Vaas to get off his ass and snatch up his own rifle as his vision stopped spinning finally. He staggered only once as he did, growling in irritation at the throbbing in his temple and the sensation of blood running down the side of his face but ignoring it entirely to give chase. It wasn't hard for even the most inept of men to figure out which way the girls had gone, from the dead man gurgling his last breaths on the ground to the faint sound of footfalls carrying two Americans away from the scene. As far as Vaas was concerned it meant the chase was on, and they were playing for blood now. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!" He shouted at the two rather clueless looking pirates who'd arrived at the same time as he. "Fucking MOVE, man!" Not needing to be told twice they both took off while Vaas himself waited a moment more until Benny himself finally emerged. "You tell the boys- bring fucking everything they got. I don't give a shit if they get banged up so long as they're alive," He spat, wiping the blood from his head with the edge of his tank in a futile effort. "And you watch your back, hermano. They bite." Message delivered, Vaas himself joined in the chase with far less enthusiasm than he would have liked to have. Goddamn Red and her sneaky bullshit left his head aching and his pride damaged for what he'd counted to be the third time in a row now. The benefit to his fouled mood was he all but blazed past his own men despite the head start they'd had, putting Vaas where he belonged at the head of the chase. The trail was child's play to follow- broken branches and crushed patches of grass painted a clear picture of exactly where he needed to go, the thick treeline being the only thing keeping the girls out of sight as of yet. That itself was never going to be an issue, though, not with the way Vaas knew his jungle. On top of that he was frighteningly fast even with his throbbing head and moved with all the practiced ease of a tiger in its prime, and it was no surprise to him to finally catch a fleeting glimpse of blonde in the dappled sunlight. It really had been child's play. With Blondie up ahead it meant Red wasn't far off, not with how close they'd proven to stick together. Red had even come hobbling back into his camp in broad daylight just to get the girl back, so it stood to reason that would be the key to recapturing her out in the wild. "FALINE!!" Wherever Red was he didn't doubt she'd hear him; it wasn't like she could ignore him anyway. "I found Thumper! You gonna come play or what?" The trick now was just closing the distance with Blondie proving to be much faster than he'd originally thought, but less surefooted than himself. But even from where he currently was, he could tell he'd managed to unnerve her with his proximity. It would only be a matter of not much time now.

Kill him. That was the only thought that the auburn survivor could think as her fingers held tight over his rough face. Kill him right now and end it all forever. He didn't deserve to live...Sorcha was convinced that there wasn't a single shred of empathy within this beast, nor anything left that could even be called human anymore. He was ultimately primal, hunting down his own kind like deer in the forest to be sold off to slave markets and even worse types of men. And he took pleasure in this process. He liked to torture and main his fellow man, he liked their pain and their screams, but he liked a fighter just a little bit more. There was some raging issue of dominance between them that almost seemed like he thought himself entitled to...and she'd never gotten the memo. He did not look at her or Ash as anything above something to be owned and manipulated at his own convenience. They were not humans in his eyes – just things with monetary value...and he wanted his money's worth. They were just bags of meat to be split apart and divided amongst the wolfs, each one passed around from one man to the other until there was nothing left of value. Then like all trash they'd be disposed of. That was their ultimate fate should they fail at any point. They had no future if they failed to find their bearings and escape the guns and ropes. Their lives were on the line here...and at any single moment one of them could be snuffed out. All it took was one single bullet.

The wound in her chest had begun to ache in response as she glared angrily down at the dazed man beneath her. Hate boiled in the pit of her stomach as her fingers dug into his skin. She wasn't about to be his slave again and she sure as hell wasn't about to allow Ash to become someone else's toy either. Kill him. She told herself again, knowing that his daze was waning quickly and yet as the shouts of another pirate rang out, calling for his boss in utter concern, Sorcha couldn't make her decision quickly enough – she hesitated as his fingers had weakly managed about her throat. Citra's words rang in her mind...how they would loose, how this man was a beast to be reckoned with and if it was truly in their best interests to challenge him. She knew she didn't have the strength, she didn't have the cruelty to blow his skull open while he played the guessing game of which figure was the real one. She was far too weak, too timid, too moral. Because she wasn't like him, because such a path was one of vengeance. And vengeance was not going to protect Ash ...or herself from these men. Vengeance wasn't going to bring her Scha'tzi. Vengeance was nothing short of selfishness...and that was something she could not be right now – because there were two others who were relying on her to be better then that, stronger then that, more then the beasts who hunted them. She couldn't devolve on them now.

Vaas' strength was returning and she felt it against her skin as she sharply pulled from his grip while she still could as her hand slid downward to allow him that one desperately sought for breath of air as she leaned downward to address him more personally. “I am not your property.” She hissed as her hands slammed down against his chest and she vaulted from his frame quickly, seconds later tearing down the unclear jungle pathways just behind her blonde haired companion.

Vaas' silence was never a good thing. Everyone knew that and it only meant one of two things; either Vaas was absorbed in a task or he wasn't even conscious. And when the boss failed to respond to the American's calls he knew that something was awry, it had to be. This had happened before after all...back in the camp where those girls had managed, and Benny hadn't quite figured out how, to choke him to unconsciousness without a single armed man noticing nor hearing the attack. Drunk or not... when the boss was in trouble you noticed that shit. But why would Vaas fall for the same trick twice in a row? That was what Benny really began to wonder as something in the air had his hackles raised and he turned quick in step on his heels to move back in the direction he come from at a jog. “Boss!” Benny yelled with no lack of drama as he circled around the trunk of the tree. Even just a shout to shut the fuck up, as Vaas often shouted when he was upset about whatever and didn't want to be bothered, would have been enough. But it wasn't like Benny truly cared as to the fate of Hoyt's hound dog, daresay the world would have been better off without him in it, but he didn't want to imagine how the world would be like without Vaas here to maintain his territory. This island was rich in many things, it was sought after, and Benny rightly didn't want to fall under the control of whatever other psycho he crowned king of his rock, psycho's like the people eater. And then out of the uncomfortable silence finally he heard the boy call out for him.

And Benny saw him there right where he'd left him and his vision blurred as time almost seemed to stop. And entire volt of nerves igniting within his body that left him frozen and stiff where he stood. Heart hammering and skin sweating he wondered if he was dead...lying there like that. And quickly the commando was on his way again, stomping quickly over to Vaas' side as the man suddenly moved to roll onto his side. “Vaas....Jesus Christ!” Benny spat as his hand landed firmly upon the younger man's hard shoulder, which was very quickly removed when Vaas jerked himself away in order to rise up to his feet again with what little pride he had left. For a moment Benny wondered if he'd just tripped or something ...but when the kid stumbled to the side on level feet he knew some shit had gone down in the few seconds he'd turned his back and when the river of red running down his face finally began to trickle onto the ground and stain the pirate king's red shirt Benny knew exactly what had happened. The sight of the bloodied rock left abandoned with them only cinched it all together. “I don't think this is what Queen meant by we will rock you man...” Benny added blandly, his heart dropping in realization. These girls had rolled him twice now...one of them three times – and now it was just adding insult to injury. And Vaas was the one who was going to do the injuring. Those girls had no idea what kind of trouble they'd gotten themselves into...none. And now Benny wasn't so sure that he could help them now. Vaas was going to do a lot of things from here on...but letting them run away was not going to be one of them. If watching the way that Rakyat tore off into the jungle was any indication of that.

“....fuck...” Benny breathed.

Ash was nothing but a yellow haired blur in front of her. Running as fast as her nimble little feet would take her and that had put a fair amount of distance between she and her. On a good day Sorcha could keep up with her...but Ash was still the runner of the two, Ash always won those races. Sorcha was more skilled in an entirely different area of physical adeptness. Skills that made this entire jungle nothing more then a personal playpen ...had she not been so banged up anyway. But she was anything if not determined and she powered forward despite each shock of pain that coursed through her leg as it was set down, the chipped bone beneath the mangled flesh voicing it's displeasure of this activity with no less then ever increasing agony. But she couldn't stop now.

It didn't take long for Vaas to recover enough to resume shouting somewhere far behind her but he wasn't something to worry about just yet. It would take him some time to catch up again with a head shot like the one she'd given him. She hoped anyway. Yet part of her almost expected him to reappear as suddenly as he often did and with no sway in his step either. He had a job to do...and now he was going to do it. He'd been embarrassed in front of all his men, now it was personal. And there was nothing more dangerous then a man full of pride and nursing a bruised ego. But did she regret what she done? Hell no. That attack was something that was long overdue and she had to be the one to do that dirty work. So she did it. But that didn't mean she wasn't aware of the thickening sea of danger she'd caused for the both of them... but things were different this time. There were only so many men in this wilderness and only one of him and a million places to hide. Even if they didn't know this jungle...it didn't mean they couldn't use it to their advantage. She'd been about to call out to her distant friend when a blast of air happened by her followed swiftly by the crackling of a very big gun by the sound of it's roar. The pepper of force was enough to unnerved her as she flinched from the direction they had come from but it was the strands of auburn hair that suddenly broke as something grazed her ponytail and flew through the air that made her jump sideways and veer off from Ash's blazed pathway to stumble and fight gravity down the slope of the terrain with a sharp curse.

Landing roughly at the bottom she paused as pivoted back to look upwards as the roar of the gun ceased and the ripped foliage swayed in the aftermath. Quickly she looked herself over frantically for any wounds that she might not had felt...but the only redness she wore was upon her bandages and stained in the green shirt she still wore over her tank top...so she thought anyway. “Ash!” She yelled up the incline but received no answer to her call. And when the black lumbering sight of the man behind the gun that had nearly made mince meat out of her Sorcha backed up quickly as the man yelled, “Let me show you how a MAN fights!” As he jostled the heavy machine gun held at his hip upon her. Inwardly Sorcha couldn't help but remind herself that the only real man here just got himself a new concussion...and that said something right there. “This woman will be happy to kick your caveman ass!” Sorcha snarled in response as the machine gun hissed and roared to life again, ripping and destroying the foliage around her and forcing her to scramble backwards into the cover of the tree's.

“AHA!!” The shout was sharp and sudden as she'd begun to turn towards it, “BURN MOTHERFUCKA!” Something crashed against the side of her face and suddenly she knew how Vaas had felt when his face had introduced itself to that rock. The force was immense as her body was thrust sideways by the projectile that splashed the foul smell of alcohol onto her face as the entire world shifted and disappeared into a hazy painting of lights and indistinguishable colors and heat briefly licked her face and singed her hair as she was flung down to one knee as the bottle, failing to break on target, veered away and smashed upon the ground – setting the inferno waiting inside loose onto the lush green grass...and it burned so terribly quickly.

“...fuck me....” Sorcha whispered as her vision spun and she reached outwards in a disorient but her arm felt like jelly as the smell of smoke in her nostrils forced her to leap back up onto her feet almost immediately. Blinking against the haze she saw the flames spreading quickly and turning around she saw the jostling figure of the vest wearing pirate as he fought to pull another molotov from the slots on its chest. She wasn't about to play another round of dodge ball with this cunt and as the flames hissed against her boots she disappeared from sight by the time the pirate had managed to rip his weapon free and look upwards with a rotten smile. But that smile soon faded to find his mark wasn't even there...just the fire that he had set. “Shit!” He stated stupidly as he began to backup whilst the Heavy Gunner was about halfway down the incline, clearly not concerned with speed nor loosing his target. And as the Molotov toting man was beginning to run the redhead reappeared swinging downward from the overhanging branch of a tree and the sharp blow to his chest from her boots thrust him clean off his feet and on to his back. Sorcha dropped down into the grass, cringing as splinters had drove into her hands and pain ripped through her chest. Slowly she touched the freshly bleeding wound as the second man groaned and gasped for air upon the ground while he touched his own chest. “That would have killed me...” She whispered, holding her stiff arm against herself as she'd reached for her handgun when the hard, bitter kiss of metal wrapped around her throat and she was pulled back against the the padded body of the Heavy Gunner she'd forgotten about.

Gasping her hands gripped upon the heavy gun as he lifted her up just enough to keep the tips of her toes upon the ground and cut off the flow of air to her lungs.

Somewhere not far off behind her, shouts of two other men could be heard and it didn't take a genius to figure out who it was they were yelling at. Without entirely meaning to, Ash had lost track of the redhead amongst the jungle and now it sounded as though the pirates had already converged on her. Without Sorcha, it was highly unlikely Ash was going to make it to this doctor's house in one piece and besides that, how could she abandon her to be taken back and either shot again or sold into slavery? That was a horror no one should have to face, and as it was Sorcha was already wounded. It was anyone's guess as to how much fight the redhead would have left in her after not one but two well-placed bullets. With how she carried herself Ash had almost forgotten how badly injured her sister was, a thought that made her blood run cold combined with the knowledge that two pirates had found her. At once the blonde went to change direction, fully intending on going back for Sorcha even if it meant backtracking into more pirates. She had her rifle, didn't she? In that same instant she'd gone to turn, however, a flash of red drew her eye and with no shortage of horror she realized Vaas himself was right on her trail and wearing a look she flat out didn't like. Before it seemed as though the whole thing was just a game to him, one that he very much enjoyed... But now he looked nothing short of murderous, every part the tiger that had grown bored of playing with its food and decided to move in for the kill. Though she doubted very much she'd actually hit him, half the appeal of an assault rifle was the psychological stopping power anyway, and with that in mind Ash shouldered it to open fire on Vaas in hopes of giving herself a short head start again. In this instance she took no pleasure in the momentary look of surprise he'd worn shortly before he'd dove for the cover of a tree under the hail of bullets coming down on him or the profuse swearing in both English and Spanish, caring only that she had in fact bought herself a few precious seconds to turn and run again. "That's fucked up chica, será mejor maldita carrera ahora!" Of course he hadn't stayed down long, that shout wasn't far off enough to give any kind of comfort. If anything, it seemed as though the moment Ash had turned, he'd gotten right back up and that could only end badly. The rifle in her hands was only going to throw off her balance, and for the time being she slung it across her shoulder by the well-worn strap to let it hang off her back. In the few moments she'd let her focus on the jungle floor slip, though, she hadn't noticed the ledge she was running up on until it was too late. It wasn't terribly high up, at most maybe two or three feet to the ground below, but it was enough for Ash's own momentum to work against her and toss her to the ground. She'd lost all of only a few seconds spent getting back on her feet, but it was time she didn't have to spare and she knew it. - With blood still dripping from his battered face and now from two places on his right arm where bullets had clipped him, it was fairly safe to say Vaas was sick of both girls' shit. In less than a week he'd been attacked by either one of them far too many times and it was grating on his nerves something fierce now. It hadn't gone unnoticed when he walked through a cluster of his men that they all fell quiet, and to a point Vaas almost didn't blame them. Had it been any one of them getting fucked over by some little girl he'd have laughed himself stupid at their plight, wouldn't have let them ever forget it either. This had rapidly become less about his job and more about pride now, pride that was just about withered away with all he'd had thrown his way. Everything had to start looking up sometime, though, like now. Blondie hadn't expected him to get right back on her ass but here he was, and it was scaring the girl half to death. It wasn't until she'd stumbled and fallen down the ledge that Vaas allowed himself a smile. That right there, it meant the chase was over. He knew to watch for the break in the earth and compensate for it, leaping the small incline to land on his feet again within arm's reach of the blonde and in one swift movement tackled her to the ground before she could manage to get up to speed again. Against the force he'd put into it Blondie never stood a chance and just like that, they tumbled to the ground in a heap. Though he without a doubt had the upper hand over the pinned American, she still struck right back and managed to bite down hard on his left forearm as she shoved against the immoveable object that was Vaas. It was a pointless effort with her being the featherweight of the two, not that it made her any less irritating. His response was a swift blow to her face, visibly stunning the girl long enough for Vaas to remove the rifle from her shoulder and hurl it to the side. "Do you have any idea how fucking rude that was? Huh?" He snarled into her face, tensing to hit the girl again when she finally was able to draw in a breath. "SORCHA!!" The shout rang out clear as day through the jungle and had an edge of something close to hysteria with the pirate's king holding her at his mercy. For once, it turned out to be a little better than expected. True he had one girl, but the other was still off on her misadventure somewhere nearby and he doubted Red had made it with the wounds she had. Not to mention he doubted she'd leave her girl behind when she'd fought so hard to steal the blonde away from his camp. "Fuck, you're right. Where the hell did Red go? FALINE!" He hopped to his feet then and dragged Ash along with him easily, keeping his hand tight enough at her throat to serve as a warning if she decided to try anything else, "Where you hiding at now?"

A dire thud upon the ground was little comfort as her weapon slipped from her fingers and down into the grass. Her feet strained to find balance as her fingers dug into the crevices of the machine gun for traction to pull the beast from her wind pipe but to little avail. The metal scraped her skin as her body twisted and writhed against the heavy frame of the pirate at her back who only chuckled coldly as her feeble attempts to remain conscious. This wasn't how it was meant to go, she felt it in her bones, and it was like the entire jungle was watching her – judging her in that very moment. And here she was caught in clutches of a bear like a fawn caught without it's mother. Faline was an appropriate term... and there was no Bambi here to save her. She gasped as she wrenched herself upwards against the weapon, anything to find even just the smallest bit of air and yet the more she struggled the harder it did become to breath and as looked upwards at the dark face of the pirate she could see the cruelty in his face and the satisfaction in his grin. Like he'd stumbled upon gold...and maybe he had. Women went for a heft price around here but she was perhaps one of the most valuable now – she was the one that got away, the one that their psycho lord could just barely keep his own against, the one that even if broken in half just kept crawling forward on broken bones and infected wounds. It all sounded so unnatural when worded that way... but it was just the nature of life. It was the most fragile and resilient force on the earth. And hell be damned if she was going to allow her life to be taken away by these filthy beasts. And as the colors began to fade from the jungle her body began to weaken against the ironclad choke hold. And feeling her body slowly slipping from consciousness the pirate made his last mistake that he would ever make. Her feet hit flat against the ground as the gun pulled outward from her throat, allowing the sweet taste of air to fill her lungs again as he reached for the radio clipped onto his belt.

Though still weak and propped back against him, practically holding onto the gun in front of her chest just to stay standing, her eyes roamed the jungle for a weapon as she breathed in the smoke from the spreading fire at their back. The pirate himself had misjudged his own capture's state of consciousness in total, thinking that if she was limp that she was out enough to safely be released. And in his mind he was wondering why this one had been so much trouble for them all, she hardly seemed as dangerous as the convoluted and warped stories told from mouth to mouth and exaggerated even more had made her out to be. She was just one little girl who thought she could play with the boys. But she was just as weak as every other woman he'd forced himself upon. She had been lucky not to been hit by a bullet or two of his and she'd only gotten the upper hand on Juan because he was shitfaced – as usual. Lucky was all she had to flaunt here and when she'd looked upwards at him he saw that fear in her, buried down deep under all that anger, a fear that he would bring up to the surface soon enough. The Heavy Gunner cared little for what Vaas had to say on the matter – he'd caught this one so she was going to be his for just a little while. Bossman could wait to wet his cock for all he cared for. And as he raised the little red radio towards his poorly shielded face ….was it just a sheet of regular plastic Sorcha was limp in his grasp. And when a sharp cry cut across the jungle from a ways away she perked slightly, was that Ash?

Hey Boss, He had announced over the radio as he adjusted the redhead – who remained limp so he assumed was actually unconscious. I got Red, where you – AHHH!” He was wrong. And his voice cracked through the radio, overwhelming its miniscule speakers in a shrill – womanly tone before silence took over the line completely. And silence was all there was in response for at least thirty seconds before her bloodied hand glided downwards to wrap around the small plastic device as her boot pressed down upon the fallen gunner's chest as she stepped over him in anything but an oxygen deprived stupor. She was seeing red as she held her wounded arm still to her chest, eyes scanning the terrain for movement as she walked away from the limp body at her back.

And bringing the radio up to her lips she breathed out into the speaker quietly.

“.....marco.” She said quietly, calmly as she hiked back up the incline. She knew she'd heard her girl screaming her name and that was all Sorcha needed to do anything. Ash was the only thing on this rock that gave her any sort of hope...and she wasn't about to loose her again. Not here and not now....not ever. And Vaas snickered over the radio in a rage he tried to mask with misplaced humor.

”Polo.” He replied begrudgingly. And Sorcha paused to listen to the jungle around her and the distant gunshots and rustled of the bushes. ”I can't hear you.”

“POLO!” The man's voice bellowed from further along the incline, silencing the jungle once again from one clear direction. He was louder then she'd expected him to be... but just as angry as he should have been. And quickly she broke into a jog as she hurried down the pathway where the grass had been flattened in a clear trail and the bushes demolished inward and through the tangled roots and vines and foliage she saw him. Standing them with his paw around Ash's throat, Ash who was bleeding from being struck and looked like she was about to have a heart attack. Just that alone was enough to make her blood seethe and she slowed to a limping gait that brought her meandering into sight not unlike the undead that some claimed her to be around this place. And she glared sideways at the pirate king as she limped a little closer before her gun hand raised. This time there was no tremble in her arm as she sneered at the bloodied man with her finger tight upon the trigger. “You let her go mo cher.” Sorcha ordered, “Or you're gonna be going to a very dark place that you ain't gonna get out of.”

Even as yet another non-plan for escape had started to come to Ash's head, it was immediately dashed to the rocks with the sudden scream from the man over the radio. Vaas' expression had already changed with the mere mention of Red, and the screaming that could only mean Sorcha had outwitted some poor sucker who thought he'd caught her. His face had darkened with all the fury of a stormcloud, reminding Ash very much of the flash of temper he'd displayed when he'd interrogated her about Sorcha's apparent non-death. That time, however, there had been sturdy cage bars keeping him from her. Here there was no such protection, and even less of a chance to pull on over on him as she had before. Every single fiber of being shouted at her to kick or scream or do something, but that look Vaas wore was enough to make her reconsider. Just the grip on her throat now was enough to tell that it wasn't anywhere near his full strength, even when it tightened at the sound of Sorcha's voice over the radio. "Marco." One word and Vaas' already-flared temper was brought to a boiling point with the obvious fact that whoever had grabbed the redhead was now dead. Oddly enough, though, with his petulantly given reply he also looked halfway close to being amused by the whole thing. With the redhead continuing to taunt him that quickly vanished as his fury exploded all at once, his voice ringing out through the jungle and silencing several nearby birds. It would almost have been funny had Ash been watching from somewhere else other than under his thumb, but up close the man was anything but. If she looked anything like she felt the panic on her face was clear as day, not even lessened by Sorcha's arrival. This made twice now she'd seen the redhead hold Vaas at gunpoint, and the other time she'd at least been in a position to be of use. As it was now, the rifle had been flung off to the side and she didn't doubt for a second that the pirate could crush her in an instant if she tried going for the knife at her side. But... This time, there was something different in the way Sorcha held herself and even in the way she stared the pirate king down. In the camp both pirate and captive had both known she wouldn't pull the trigger, but here, it was plainly obvious to Ash that Sorcha was on the verge of doing exactly that. Do it, get it over with, she silently willed the other girl, glancing from the gun in Sorcha's hand to Vaas. Normally their unspoken conversations had never been quite so morbid, bordering on homicidal, but all the same Ash knew the meaning would get across. Just do it so we can get the hell away. - Oh, this girl was something else. Whatever Red had done to his gunner was bad, that much Vaas knew from the notes of sheer agony in the scream he'd given shortly before the radio had cut off. Agony was a sound he knew better than most, though he hadn't expected to hear it from as big a motherfucker as the gunner. And at the hands of one little girl, Red? Well... Maybe he should have expected it. On some level that one liked hurting people, Vaas knew it for a fact as well as he knew he liked to do the same. Whether or not Red knew it herself was anyone's guess, but it didn't make it less of a fact. She liked to hurt... And she liked to taunt, he noted with gritted teeth as his radio had crackled back to life. Listening to her, calm as anything in HIS jungle after taking down one of his boys, it was about enough to burn him right up. And she just kept right at it, even when she'd already gotten her little laugh. If Vaas in her face was what Red was after... Then he was all the way there. He already had her girl in one hand, petrified under a grip just enough to keep Blondie literally on her toes. And the last time she'd tried to hold him up, that just hadn't worked. Even now as she emerged from the trampled bushes with a handgun- his handgun, a fact that made him snarl for just a moment in annoyance- trained on his face, Vaas found he still had no reason to fear. Really, it was three times now she'd been the one with a gun in one hand and an opportunity to shoot him in the other. Once in his little room, once in his camp, and still no bullets had found their way to his flesh. So with the sight of her now, looking and talking all like she thought the upper hand was hers, like she could negotiate like some goddamn cop show with a hostage... He simply burst out into a fit of laughter. "That is what you're gonna try to do, uh nena?" Vaas sneered, nodding his head at the gun before meeting eyes with Sorcha and tilting his head to the side. "And what dark place is that, huh? No, no no no, see, this? This is MY fucking game here, on MY home base. You just get to play along for a little bit. Put the goddamn gun down. You might hit her," He added with a wry grin as he nodded in Ash's direction, pulling her forward a step for emphasis. "I'ma let you in on a little secret, chica, ok? Here, on this island? There's no such thing as a fucking hero. You don't get to just come here and think some ink and some bullshit Citra tells you, makes you a fucking warrior. It DOESN'T!" For a long few moments Vaas simply stood there, breathing heavily as though shouting at the redhead had taken some kind of physical toll on him before he snickered again, his free hand rising to scratch the back of his neck idly. "What, what are you just standing there for, huh? Huh? You were talking all that good shit just a second ago, where the fuck is it now? I thought you were gonna show off for your girl or some shit, isn't that what you do? Hm?" Taunting Sorcha himself now, he slowly and deliberately took as large a step forward as he could, all the while staring her down just as she did to him. "It's fucking easy, you know that. Pull the fucking trigger already, let's go then. Come on." "Sorcha," Ash hissed through gritted teeth, her gaze flickering back and forth between pirate and redhead. "What, even your girl thinks you won't do it? That's fucking cold, chica. Prove her wrong then."

- Kill him. Do it That was what Ash was telling her to do with great peril. Silently pleading to her best friend to pull the trigger on this maniac who held her like a roughed up rag doll. Killing people wasn't something Sorcha imagined herself doing in her entire life and yet it effected her little up until now. She was a lion through and through, defending herself came only natural, and when her brood was threatened, not even the strongest of chains would keep her back. Killing was something that had come easy to her, the taste for blood seemed almost routine as if it had always been there and now brought to light it had an ironclad grip. But maybe it was all just the circumstances, merely doing what had to be done to survive, and any guilt or remorse had been put aside to be dealt with at a later date, at a safer place. And yet she felt a sort of dread as she looked between Ash and this man, a dread so strong that she hesitated again when all it took was the smallest of gestures to end it all right there. This nightmare could end so easily and yet it was perhaps the most difficult decision she'd make in her entire life. She wanted to hurt him, more then anything, she'd have loved to watch him die – a champion finally defeated and facing down the bitter unknown of death and all his sins. She knew he didn't deserve a quick death, he deserved to experience all the agony and helplessness he had inflicted upon his countless victims. Yet Sorcha knew that he was merely laugh at the pain. She knew that he wasn't able to feel anything for the people that he hurt, she knew that no amount of torment would make him utter for mercy – he wanted death, he wanted the pain, because he enjoyed both. Fear meant nothing to him. But it meant something to her, something like it was what she felt. A deep anxiety about gunning him down and what that would mean afterward but the dread came from inaction. If she didn't do something now...then he would do something – to Ash. And she just couldn't stomach the idea. Yet she doubted herself in total when Ash needed her strike – it was like she was frozen. Fingers had dug into the stained green fabric of her shirt as her shoulder drooped, her weight having unconsciously shifted onto one leg for the most part. She was an animal wounded and unable to feel the pain against hormones coursing through her veins. Completely ignorant to her own condition as Vaas suddenly stepped forward. There was a distant familiarity between she and him – as if they'd done this one before. The two of them locked in a standoff of who could be scarier then the other and the first one to flinch was the loser. His laughter was unnerving like everything was just one horridly bad joke but he was insulted by her stance. He expected her to just lie down by now but still she snarled and snapped at him – and he didn't like it. He groped for some semblance of control over her again because he knew he didn't have to beat her senseless to make her submit. He had something she wanted and he knew exactly how to use her to his advantage....but again he failed to understand Sorcha's analytic priorities. She might have been frozen...but it didn't mean she wasn't thinking. Each sharp edged taunt that came from him was brushed through with a fine toothed comb. Everything he had to say was meant to shut her down, to assert is male dominance over her – to remind her again that she was nothing here. This was his space and his game, she was playing by his rules, and his word was law. Vaas sought to control her mind if he couldn't not control her body, a game he had played and mastered a very long time ago. But Sorcha knew he was intimidated, threatened within his own territory by something he wasn't so confident that he could bring to heel, and that excited him. But his mistake was that he still thought of her as a lesser – and not a worthy opponent. That was ultimately where he failed time and time again. This time was no different. You are nothing here Quietly a concern crossed her face as he shouted at her as if everything he has to say was gravely important. But he spat a name at her, Citra, as if he knew her as something more then just a leader of a band of savages and slowly her eyes left him to find the faint imprint of white upon her shoulder. Again she was reminded of just how similar this man looked to that woman and by the bitterness of his tone – there was very bad blood between them. He sounded so angry but...not really at her but more at the things she had been doing – particularly with the Tribe of this island....like somehow she'd stuck a knife into his back, that these people had wronged him so terribly that all he could feel towards then was unrelenting hatred, and the ink etched into her skin was a horrid reminder of that even more so. She found him again still silent and that muddy shade of blue that scrawled across the skin of his arm. He had the same ink.... he had to have once been one of them. And how the mighty had fallen it would seem....and inwardly she wondered why. But that was perhaps an answer that she would never divine from these people. Nor did she even want to. “....you don't think I will?” She questioned softly, glancing towards Ash again. Vaas was right about one thing...there was a strong chance she mighty hit her if she pulled that trigger now and slowly the weapon lowered again as her eyes found the ground, fingers rising to cover her lips while she looked back at him in some sort of conflict ion and need. A look that instantly destroyed the guard the pirate had erected before he could even think about it and quickly he reached out for her, “Shh, it's ok now. Come here, don't cry.” He comforted as she slowly cut the distance between him and her. His arm wrapped around her shoulders gently as her forehead came to rest upon his chest. “There you go...see? Was that so hard?” He asked, looking down at the bent and battered up woman who he could tell was beyond done with all of this, she was exhausted and she couldn't fight anymore, yet she tried so hard to keep shoving forward even though she physically just couldn't do it anymore. This was exactly what he'd been waiting for right here, this moment of complete and total submission and he'd begun to grin when suddenly she looked upwards after having collected her thoughts and breath and it was like a hot poker had been shoved clean through his gut as the pang of a gun he knew the sound of so fondly made his ears bleed. Instantly the pirates strong gait weakened as his knees bent and he hissed, staring wide eyed at her in shock ...and then rage. Sorcha pushed Ash from his grip quickly before her hand found his face, pushing him downward to his knee's will little resistance as he was already on his way down before she shoved him backwards completely so that he lied upon the grass, bleeding and dying. Just how she wanted him to be. “It wasn't...” Sorcha breathed, training the gun upon his fallen form again as if to deliver that final, fatal blow. But it seemed the better person of her had won whatever internal struggle there was as she shook her head and lowered the gun again. “Boss!” The bellow of the American named Benny rang out as he broke out of the brambles, drawn in by the sudden shot in the song of the jungle and when Sorcha found his red form she seized Ash's arm quickly, turning to run into the cover of the jungle. Benny wasn't about to chase after them and his heart leap as he hurried down the ridge at the sight of his fallen employer – a sight that no one had ever seen before. “Vaas!” Benny called as he slid down next to the wounded Rakyat, finding the deep red wound in belly with a white faced expression of horror. “She shot you!?” That was....unexpected to say the least and truthfully....Benny would have loved to leave him here to die but – well. Appearances and everything. “Damn it, just stay awake ok?” The hefty American instructed as he pulled the Rakyat from the ground and vaulted him over his shoulders, hurrying quickly back the way he'd come where the near by camp had been discreetly built within the jungle. -

For the just a few moments Ash's heart had begun to sink as Sorcha lowered her gun, looking for all the world as though she wanted to just lay down on the ground. It sank just a little further as the redhead took the few steps forward needed to close the distance into the pirate's open arm and leaned against the man's chest, even allowing him to wrap his arm around her shoulders. Before the despair could set back in, however, she'd seen that Sorcha's finger had yet to leave the trigger of the gun in her hand, and her grip on it hadn't slackened in the slightest. There was more to this than Vaas seemed to realize as he crooned to the seemingly defeated girl cradled against his chest, a fact that had obviously dawned on him when Sorcha rose her head to stare him in the face a split second before she actually pulled the trigger. Few things on this island so far had brought as much satisfaction as the look of shock on the pirate's face as his mind tried to comprehend what had just happened to him, though even that was short lived as shock gave way to fury. It took only the one push to free Ash from Vaas' already faltering grip, leaving the blonde more than a little stunned as she gazed down at the fallen pirate, then back up at Sorcha. For the moment the redhead looked lost in her own thoughts as she and her not-quite-helpless victim stared one another down, the aggressor with the gun still trained on Vaas. Which reminded her... Her borrowed rifle was still lying in the grass where Vaas had thrown it. There were no friendly allies out here to borrow weapons from, meaning that the one Ash had been give was the one she had to work with for now. Thankfully it hadn't been thrown far, and a quick inspection showed that it had sustained damage save for a grass stain on the leather strap. With the rifle back in her hands, while the feeling wasn't exactly 'safe'... It was something more than helpless. In the eerie silence that had fallen over their little clearing, the shouts of a nearby and oddly American-sounding pirate sounded almost deafeningly loud, and coupled with the fact that Vaas was still watching Sorcha with what could only be described as seething rage... The redhead didn't need to say a thing to tell Ash to run with her. She had her rifle and Sorcha was capable of moving quickly for however long her adrenaline rush lasted her. Right then she cared little if they were headed in the right direction anymore, so long as the two were moving in a direction opposite of Vaas and his rescuer. She was at least reasonably sure they hadn't gotten turned around in the scuffle with the pirates, and in the moment that simply had to be good enough. How far exactly they'd run was anyone's guess, and the thought wouldn't have even occurred to Ash had it not been for the fact that all she could see around them was nothing but jungle. As much as she might have liked to simply keep running nonstop, it flat out just wasn't possible when there was still an unknown amount of distance between the girls and this doctor's house. On top of that, Sorcha was still wounded despite all outward appearances. "Are you ok?" If only for a few minutes Ash slowed her pace to a walk, glancing over her companion with open concern now. Whether the week-old leg wound was of any consequence now, she frankly had no idea, but that shot to the heart... Like a bad movie the scene replayed itself in her head before she shook the vision away, bringing her focus back to the real world. "And thank you, by the way. For..." Unable to find the right words Ash simply waved her hand in the direction they'd come from, referencing what all had transpired. "What we need now is to figure out where we are."

#fc rp #far cry 3 #fanfic #vaas montenegro #citra talugmai #dennis rogers #benny #oc's #rakyat #efraeya #fyimabat #lions and lambs

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maleficfiction · 10 years

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Title: Bloodfeud (Discontinued) Pairing: Oc x Citra Time: AU / Prequel Rating: Explicit

Three souls trapped upon the Island are subjected to the horrors of Hoyt’s operation. One man is shot and left for dead and gathered from his watery grave by the Rakyat and their mysterious leader, Citra, who believes him a gift sent by the Goddess. With them he must train and gather strength under Citra’s guidance to become the Great Guardian who once watched over the Lotus Pond in a time before The Giant and reap his revenge on the pirate Vaas who left him to the sharks. But there is another, an escaped slave whom was forced to abandon her girlfriend in the care of Vaas and his pirates, a woman whom Citra believes is a dark omen to grace her Guardian’s Path. Also some character profiles have been added to the fray!

#fanfic #farcry #farcry 3

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maleficfiction · 10 years

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Farcry 3 Bloodfeud: Our Own Little World

Title: Bloodfeud (Story has been discontinued) Pairing: Oc x Citra Time: AU / Prequel Rating: Explicit

Three souls trapped upon the Island are subjected to the horrors of Hoyt's operation. One man is shot and left for dead and gathered from his watery grave by the Rakyat and their mysterious leader, Citra, who believes him a gift sent by the Goddess. With them he must train and gather strength under Citra's guidance to become the Great Guardian who once watched over the Lotus Pond in a time before The Giant and reap his revenge on the pirate Vaas who left him to the sharks. But there is another, an escaped slave whom was forced to abandon her girlfriend in the care of Vaas and his pirates, a woman whom Citra believes is a dark omen to grace her Guardian's Path.

Do not thank us Ethan. Holy shit. This whole situation was panning out as if it were the start of some old action movie. Just the way it was all going down- the mysterious jungle beauty, the seemingly wise, trusting ex-marine. Even the way he said the things he did, with his foreign-to-even-here accent and just the emphasis he placed on certain words. And if Dennis' banter seemed pulled from a script, the huntress' prodding and crooning sounded like the soundtrack. It was appealing, enticing, and a little frightening. But, all those and more were appropriate descriptors, but he didn't have time nor the mental faculty to sit their and word-search his brain for all the related keywords. Far too much was going on. He was exhausted, and had an exhausting day. And if things were really like the woman said, it almost sounded as if they were expecting him to lead some kind of revolt against the island's cruel king. All he came here for was to guard some smack. And now, this? What had he signed up for. Ethan's eyes snapped back to Citra from their thoughtful daze, pushing away his concerns and ponderings in favor of focus on the girl's words. She asked about how he had come to this island. Given what she had told him of the island, and her disapproval of its state, he should probably omit a couple details. "Ah... well, uhm... its not a particularly interesting story or anything. I'm a- I was a CPS. That's a Close Protection Specialist. That's... well, a bodyguard, basically. I was hired to protect some businessman's cargo while it was in transit to Indonesia. Our boat got intercepted by that asshole that shot me, that, uh, that Vaas guy. From there... I just got shot and, fell into the drink. Everything's a blur after that until, well, I woke up to you." He said. He didn't totally lie to the woman, but he stretched the truth in certain places. Ethan laid back, looking over to Dennis as the faint "Taptaptap" of the tatau being given reverberated through the tent. His eyes traced back over to Citra, looking to her, waiting for an opinion, or conformation, or something. "Yeah, well... that's my story."

- Oh, she was showey. She was feisty, sassy, and had attitude. This dumb, city-slicking broad thought she could just swim over to his island, huff and puff down his fortified battle camp, cap his favorite dog, and still try to call the shots, no less. There was something not quite right about this girl, but it was all to right for Vaas. Maybe it was more than the fact that Doug got to spread her petals that made him want her. Maybe- just maybe, this crazy broad actually had something in common with the tyrant besides his blatant disregard for anyone's well being, including himself. It'd be a shame she wouldn't make it to see the daylight. And if she did, the jungle will be going easy on here. As if that were even possible. Vaas smirked a bit when she finished her big bargain. Deal? Oh, no no no no no. No. That's stupid. What a horrible, horrific deal. Vaas's grin turned slowly into a though-provoked face, one of heavy contemplation, as if he were trying to understand what she could possibly have as an intention for her altruistic offer- what she could possibly hope gain, or why the girl mattered so much to her. And he came up with an answer. "You, would give your freedom, your life, for that chica? You must be hermanas. Or Tortilleras. Hahaha." He paused to laugh before shrugging a bit. "But no, really. I already got knuckle deep in you. That girl? She's unknown territory. Uncharted Waters! Oh, and trust me, I'm going to get her flowing. Whether you're there to help or rotting under that tree, it really doesn't matter to me." This girl really must have been crazy if she expected a trade. Everyone saw different things when looking at the girls brought to the island; Hoyt saw stacks of bills, the mercs saw walking pussy, but Vaas- they were just toys to Vaas. He might end up getting dollar signs out of them, and he nearly always got his dick wet, but usually, he just liked to play. And it almost seemed as if this girl might be familiar with his game. "So, what is it? You, and your pretty little friend live, or you die, and she's shipped off to some chubby, greasy little Sultan fuck over in the desert. Go ahead. Clocks ticking." Spoke the tyrant tauntingly.

“Is it?” Citra replied, a cool purr of a panther in her voice as she perked up slightly in her seat. Rook was always very strange place. Full of dangers and mysteries and the bones of military action and treasure hunters alike. But there was something more to this place. Something that lived within the spirit of the trees and deep in the earth. A power lingered here...just waiting to be taken. There was a magic in the air and through Citra it spoke. She was a great priestess of her tribe, a life line to the people both Rakyat and immigrant, she represented the island with all of her grace and beauty and ferocity. She had seen many a man come and go as they please...either willing or forcefully dispatched at the end of Vaas' guns. She had seen many wonders and many horrors. Endured many hardships and blessed the Goddess for miracles. She knew a friend from a foe...and she certainly knew when someone was keeping secrets...not that Ethan hide it well at all. Citra had picked up the hesitation in his voice and his breathy, quick recounting of the events that had lead up to his landing here.

Even Dennis knew that Ethan was stretching the truth thinly, after all....why would Vaas go through the resources and trouble to take a cargo ship on it's trade route that more likely did not bring it close to the island. They both knew that Vaas never left this place – he had to be ever present to remind them of his banner and dominance. And just the same, Hoyt rarely left his kingdom as well – only ever so briefly to visit new slaves and only in dire circumstances did he leave on business. Usually it was the other party that came to Hoyt. Yet all the same, Citra and Dennis knew that only certain types of vessels came close to this island …. and ones of larger might – the very one that she had watched sink in a blaze of glory only came give exchange. And there was only very few things that pirates ever asked for.

However Ethan wanted to spin it, Citra was already beginning to put together the pieces of this man. Right down to the tattoos he wore upon his skin. She wouldn't begrudge him for wanting to keep it quiet about his less then savory activities, it was more then obvious that he wasn't exactly proud of them. He was a man with no place in the world, following any path that lead to a means of survival. But all of that had now changed. He thought he would simply rampage across the island and drive a bullet into her brother? He was so very wrong if he thought it to be so easy, Vaas was still a warrior and this man? He was merely a pup who knew how to shoot a gun at his target. He would be eaten up alive in mere seconds...quite literally in some cases – but that horror was nothing to concern him with right now so long as the Kannibal stayed in his Haitian Voodoo land of horrors and blood.

“Fear not Ethan,” Dennis spoke up as he laid his tools down to rest, “Your Path will cleanse you of all your misdeeds so long as you walk it with bravery. But for now...rest. Morning will bring many new opportunities for you.”

She had to ask herself what she was doing more then once in the last few minutes. What she thought she was doing and why she came off that tree. Why was she trying to negotiate with a man who's only love in life was the pain and suffering of others. A man who paraded himself around like he was a god just because he could point a gun and hit his target, because he could control others with fear and impose himself to get his way. A man with poison in his veins that he took to make all the bullshit just go away, the same poison that only made him more monster then he already was. Sorcha knew he hadn't an ounce of caring for who he hurt or the consequences. They were all just existing around him, little workers to do his bidding, little slaves to suck his cock, pretty little bags of meat for his dogs when he got bored. She knew he didn't see her as anything but a thing to dominate over, to control. She didn't have feelings, she didn't even have a life anymore. She had nothing until he said she did. Even though she stood unbound and in the open – she wasn't free. She was anything but free. Right now she was just a little red rabbit caught in his playground, his little island of horrors and decrepitude. On his island he was king, he made the rules that he himself didn't even follow, he did want he wanted when he wanted to and yet for some damnable reason he wasn't doing any of that. He just stood there, staring at her and the tension was suffocating. She tried to ignore the tightness in her chest and the hammer of her heart against her bones. But it was like poison in the air making each breath harder and harder. Why did she come out of the tree.... and why didn't he just shoot her now while her hands were in the air? That was what she really didn't understand. She could understand the business, she could understand where her place was, she could respect that he was in charge around here, but why he didn't nip a problem in the bud? That was the real mystery there.

And when he grinned and paused in mid-chuckle to think there was the faintest, most irrelevant sound past her shoulder that sounded almost like the grinding of tires over loose dirt and the hum of a car engine in the distance. And quietly her eyes had turned to their corners as the sound came and went peacefully, as if the vehicle had been traveling on a road – unsuspecting of the things happening in the tree's at that very second...not even the distant orchestra of rifles cracking in a bombastic chorus. His men must have been shooting at any little leaf that moved the wrong away by now. If only they knew...and just as quietly after the sound had long gone she looked back at him as he made his counter offer...more or less. Just another threat – you either live and behave yourself or you misbehave and you die. That was what he was saying...and the fact that she was even being given a choice about this was probably generous for him. But her actions up until now should have already served as some obvious warning sign. She really didn't care about her own well being. What she cared about was that little blonde girl still trapped in that camp of hell. Cause that's what friends do...and she didn't like his rules.

The thing was... that she didn't come here by her own free will. That little piece of shit had drugged her and dragged her unconscious body here – and they all expected her to just wake up and lay down again? That was what made her blood seethe...that someone thought that he could just pluck her up out of her life and strip away everything from her. The thing was... she wasn't their toy to play and break. She was not theirs to own. They were not entitled to her...and the only thing she owed each and every one of them was pain. A lot of pain.

“Oh...” Quietly Sorcha whispered as the thought finally occurred to her, “That's how it is...?” If he really thought she was talking to him she wasn't...not really anyway as her mind replayed the events up until down and desperately reminded her that there was a road somewhere close by behind her. The truth of the matter was yes, she had been brought here, and for one reason alone. Money. And finally her lips curled into a smirk as she sneered across the way at the pirate king. He could threaten her all he wanted... but he wouldn't kill her – not yet. “I always did like a little blood play.” Finally her bloodied hand lowered to hang at her hip as her gun hand swung forward to take aim upon him again, finger tight upon the trigger. Fighting back a scoff she stepped forward casually.

“Listen fucker, do you really want to find out just how long you'll live for if you kill me before your flaming African boytoy gets paid?” That's really what it all was about in the end wasn't it? The green tacked on to just how good her ass looked and canting her head to the side that little smirk of her's faded back into the half-hinged sneer, “I know you ain't that challenged mo cher.” She added neutrally. Or maybe he actually was. Drugs did like to make people stupid after all. “So...” She continued, “It's either you take my offer and be happy with it...or we gonna go on a very very bad trip.”

Ethan felt like he was under a microscope. This woman was analyzing every aspect of him, and still listening in on his story at the same time. Her brain seemed to be moving a mile per minute behind her primal eyes, but whatever she was surmising was lost to the former Marine. Not that it mattered. Not to him. He wouldn't be here long. These natives wanted their king dead? Snipe him, from a tree. Citra spoke back to him, purring at him while he slowly looked over at her. "Yeah. It is." He said back to her, a sternness in his voice. He had seen the young pirate. He was amateur. He wasn't going to drive around in a bulletproof box, or start using subs instead of those damned boats. He was dramatic. He goes out in public, and he stays in public. It was his schtick. Ethan was a jarhead, but that phrase had nothing to do with a lack of space in his cranium. Ethan was smart. He might not know where to find the man, but what he inferred from his instincts was that he would find him in the open. The idea made him smile a bit. With one bullet, he would topple an empire. An interesting idea to entertain. He looked over at Dennis when the Liberian spoke to him, and his smile flattened momentarily. Cleanse me of my misdeeds? Won't do much to right my deeds. Thought Ethan as he mentally pulled the corners of his mouth back up. "Yeh. Thank you. That'd be nice." He said, grunting as he swung his legs over the alter's side and laid his numb arm in his lap, looking his over his new ink. He looked up, looking between the two. "Where, uh, where can I crash? Like, sleep, I mean." He asked.

- This girl was insane. Batshit crazy. She rebelled earlier and got bloodied. She ran away again- did the exact same shit- and was expecting something different to happen. This poor girl may have not known the meaning of insanity, but she had no grasp on the degree of fucked up that was Vaas. "Bitch I'll give you fucking blood play!" Said he, throwing his arms out in a garish display as he paced back and forth on a small patch of foliage. He stopped, staring at her, slapping his gun-wielding hand into his other. "Okay, shut. The. Fuck. Up! Shut up. You stupid cunt. You don't get it! You don't fucking get it." He sighed and turned to the side. "She doesn't fucking get it..." He said, speaking to an imaginary soldier, either to emphasize his point, or just out of insanity's sake. "Look, mota. You don't live here. You're not from here. Some other weak, spineless American brought you here- to MY home. I don't have to kill you. We have ticks here that will paralyze you in a day. Our birds are as tall as me. You can't take a drink without seeing a croc. Shit. That fucking tree you were in? That shits fucking toxic. You don't belong here." Said Vaas, who returned to his slight pacing. The man was no mere man. His being was shattered, and he put it back together in the image of a god. A wide-eyed , bulging-veined, monster god. He was immortal. And he was a killer- the killer. In his jungle paradise, he chose who lived or died. It was he who decided was granted the gift of life, and who kept it. New life had been torn from the incubating womb just as indiscriminately as it was bled out of the humble fisherman, or the most brazen soldier. Vaas decided who stayed, or left. He was the archtypical reaper, Rook's own psychopomp to one day be scrawled on the walls of the sheet-metal temples his chosen people now inhabited, a stark contrast to the fading stories living in the ruins of his ancestors. His people, his sister, his culture. Vaas always chose who, and what, died. Unless the jungle herself chose. But tonight she had no say- the battle here was between Sorcha and Vaas, woman scorned and man out of mind. Nothing good would come from the clash. "I don't think you understand what kind of FUCKED UP situation you're in." Shouted Vaas, who popped a round into a nearby tree for emphasis. "You don't fucking know. You coulda stayed in that damn cage, got shipped off to who knows where, and broke out there. Woulda been a lot easier for you. But no. You broke out into fucking hell. Well guess what? I'm the fucking devil. Fuck Hoyt, fuck his money, and fuck you. I can pay him back. Nobody wants a cunt with an attitude. You can fucking rot, puta." Spat Vaas spitefully, his finger clamping down on the trigger, forcing a bullet from the barrel of his 1911 towards Sorcha with an ear-splitting "POP."

There was something about Ethan that was unsettling to say the least. He talked a big game, as if he was the best of his kind, yet he was oddly emotionless all the same. Almost as if he truly didn't feel anything at all, as if he was numb to the plights presented to him and his own series of unfortunate events. He didn't quite understand what it meant for Citra to willingly offer her hand out to aid him. Citra was the leader of these people who waged war against an army times two, she possessed a great deal of power and to take her kindness lightly was dark and twisting road one did not want to find themselves traveling. It was roads like these that led Vaas to the tyrant Hoyt in the first place.

Ethan did not fully understand just what sort of place he had happened upon...and while he was no stranger to the night life of America, and her seedy underbelly driven by greed, sex, and drugs.... it did not mean that he had seen the worst of life. It did not mean that he was better, stronger, faster, smarter then the pirates here nor their king. It did not mean he was invincible to bullets just because he lives through war and walked through mine fields. All it meant was that he had seen and conquered a different kind of evil – an evil that was tame. But Ethan did not know. He was in the jungle now, he was not in the deserts of Afghanistan. Here there was a true presence ...a true evil that did not wear the skin of a man. Here there was the jungle and her subjects... and if the jungle so willed it – even a god would be stricken down just as easily as any ignorant man. And it would be a deep disappointment should Ethan fall because of arrogance. But the jungle had her rules...and none questioned her decisions.

The Liberian did not quite understand why it was that she circled Ethan as she did...but as with all of her toys – she would tire of him. And quietly as Citra rose so did the Liberian right behind her, smiling knowingly. “Where ever you please to.” He replied as he made his way out from the temple with the Rakyat Priestess who turned in the doorway suddenly, “Til the dawn, American.” Citra bade her farewell as she left the temple doorway and silent as a jungle cat.

He paced before her like some animal, like a cat that lost the prey it worked so hard to attempt to capture. Like a child who wasn't getting their way he resorted to his voice, a loud and bellowing roar meant to shut her down, to make her flinch and tremble. He still thought he was so much bigger then she was. But he scrambled for control of this scene anyway – despite his own distant delusions. He truly was living in his own little world. That world where he was king and everyone feared him, pandered to his needs, and flung themselves into the mud at his arrival. And then she happened, a smart mouthed peasant who spat at him and refused to bow down. A black and vile blot that stained his perfect little world and shook it's boundaries to their core. The barriers were cracked and ruptured, blurring the lines between what was real and what was he believed to be real. And the unrest was toxic in the air, anything but civil. He was right, she wasn't from here – she didn't belong here. But she was here and things weren't about to change that anytime soon. If he should have been angry at anyone, he should be angry at Doug.

It was Raiden's bright idea to bring her here...and it wasn't like he didn't know the way that she was. It was some sick act of cruelty and dominance that possessed Doug to haul her here. Sorcha had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. The DJ was anything but friendly and charming, that was just to mask his inability to feel human emotion. It wasn't surprising the guy kept friends just as cruel and sadistic as he was. But ultimately? The blame lied with Doug. Were it not for him....maybe she'd be at home with her mother right now – reflecting on her life decisions and wondering if she really had a future with her blonde bombshell. And he'd just be here...existing on his little throne of bodies and ruining the lives of other women who had done nothing to deserve such a fate. But that wasn't in her cards was it? In this great poker game of life and death it was all about the bluff – and her cards right now? It was like a High Card against a Royal Flush. She was going to loose... but hell be damned if a weed couldn't grow right back in place after being pulled from the soil.

In those few decisive moments of what was the closest to calm before this storm could be he shouted once more as he drew his weapon from his belt, the very one reason why she didn't throw her own weapon. And for a moment it was almost as if he'd forgotten about it...or maybe that he was testing just how tough she really was, and if he'd need to waste his ammo or not. But if she'd past that test only he really knew when the sudden crack of the gun tore into one of the closer trees, spitting shards of wood outward as the towering beast stood serene and silent in it's plot once more. Yet the jungle screamed in reply. The wind in the trees sounded almost like an agonizing wail in her ears as her body tensed in response to his aggression...but she didn't flinch yet. And as if rallied, suddenly the chorus of voices erupted within the jungle from the throats of his warriors who had all heard their god shouting and knew the sound of his pistol, some were far, some were closer then expected when the 1911 aimed at her in the slit of a second, in his agitation he pulled the trigger before his aim had even settled. The noise dulled hearing as she did all anyone could really do, leap backwards as the flash from the barrel blinded her in the darkness as she sidled around the poisonous tree behind her again. And for a long moment there was simply silence as she stopped behind the tree cover, out of his sight, having flinched in anticipation of pain. She held her own pistol as a sort of shield and her eyes had snapped shut. And when the sound of heavy footsteps began to hurry toward their general direction she was reminded that she was still alive.

So...bad trip it was.

Slowly her senses had begun to return to her as her eyes opened and she lowered the pistol to her side, watching as the darkness moved through the tree's and a hefty body emerged from the branches and vines with a menacing weapon he jostled on a weak looking leather strap around his padded chest. He was one of those armored assholes, with the plastic sheets that evidently were effective face guards. And were it not for the bright pink flip flops he wore she might have have actually given her some cause for concern. “Got you!” He yelled, belated after sharing a dumb stare with her for a few seconds before he glanced sideways to find his bullish boss sweating like the pig he was not too far away. All the bets were off right then and there...if Vaas had opened fire so would they. The machine gun fired to life as turrets of air whizzed past her, banging and flashing like the club lights she'd been under just days ago. This was all still very real...and Vaas was just one little thing out of many. But a machine gun? That was a beast she wasn't going to tango with and quick as a frightened fawn she leapt from the trail of fire, ducking and scrambling through the jungle once again. Behind her the Gunner cursed when he realized he'd not only blinded her in the dark but himself from hitting his damn target, and when he realized he was firing for a few fateful seconds at nothing he no doubt knew his own life might have just been forfeit.

The road

Sorcha had reminded herself as she blinked against the dancing lights in front of her eyes as the rest of the army began to emerge from the woodwork. One of the pirates yowled somewhere behind her as he tore forward with his machete, “This way boss!” He yelled, a much more nimble soldier then others that had to compensate for body armor and heavy guns. But he screamed like any woman when she aimed backwards and fired one shot at him but she wasn't sure if his womanly cry was from being struck or from damn near being so and it rightly didn't matter when suddenly the ground that should have been there to catch her feet wasn't anymore. Gravity had given her a mighty shove and she toppled forward, slamming against the hidden incline with a grunt and tumbling amongst the high grass and dirt and broken sticks before being flung from the hillside and coming to a final landing against the rocky trail and dust with a sickening 'thud'.

Instantly tires skid against the gravel and loose dirt as she rolled onto her back, staring wide eyed into the bright head lights that seemed to have come from nowhere. Sorcha huffed as the heat from a tire wafted against her shoulder and the jeep lolled from side to side as three bodies scrambled outwards. A few more inches and that tired would have crushed her neck... but that didn't matter as she looked upwards at the blue garbed body that hurried into sight and the concerned face of a man who looked somewhat Asian stared down at her.

“Wanita?” The man uttered quickly as she groped around her person for her handgun she'd lost on the way down from that hill. “....Anda melarikan diri?” He asked again and the chorus of cackles sounded from the top of the hill. “REBELS!” The shirtless pirate chanted superiorly as they fired their weapons into the air to bring the three men to attention, who shouted at one another and hoisted their own weapons from the jeep. “We will show you how true warriors fight!” They shouted as they opened fire from the bottom of the hill as they ran upwards into battle.

“....fuck me...” Sorcha whispered, watching the distant and dark bodies flailing in a blurry haze of colors and swaying objects and she rolled back onto her side, drawing a sharp breath as a pang of pain tore through her gut that stiffled her breathing. Something was wrong. She huffed again, whining slightly, as the abscence of air left her chest burning in desperation and her fingers found her exposed stomach idly as she drew back up to her feet. The world swam and spun around her as she swayed in place, looking downwards as her dusty fingers wiped away the crusted and moistened dirt from a gaping wound that oozed with her blood still. There was a spell of confusion as she looked at the wound and she tried to breath again but only whimpered when met by searing pain that made her double forward as a bullet sparked against the hood of the abandoned jeep as she drew backwards. Shambling across the dirt road at a sad pace, turning back only once to watch as the final man in that jeep was impaled upon the machete of the shirtless pirate, who stood as one of only two that had survived the onslaught. This place really was hell wasn't it? “Come back here bitch! I'll make good use of that new hole you got!” The man yelled from the top of the hill as he laughed, knowing that she wouldn't make it through the night. And maybe he was right. But they weren't a threat to her anymore. The only threat to her now was her own stubbornness to keep walking, no matter how many times she stumbled, no matter how dark her vision became. She could see lights through the tree's she was sure of it...and she wanted to make it to them.

You can't make it. They aren't real. A voice not unlike her own reminded her as a hand landed against her back, shoving her easily down into her knee's as she gasped and groaned and cradled her bleeding wound. “I won't let him win...” Sorcha whispered, blinking, and shaking her head against the tiredness that was slowly but surely overtaking her, “I won't let him take Scha'tzi.” “You don't care about Scha'tzi” The voice interrupted as heavy footsteps circled around to her front and she looked upwards to the image of herself that looked down at her with her hands upon her hips, “If you did you wouldn't have given him any reason to hurt her like he's going to now.

“You're wrong...” She managed to whisper as her twin lowered down to catch her as she slumped sideways and lowered her down into the the jungle floor. “Hush love, do not tell me.” Her twin replied, cold and stiff fingers gliding across her lips to silence her as she brought her finger upwards against her own, again telling her to be quiet with a simple gesture as she pointed upwards, grinning in slight marvel at a seemingly countless number of paired red eyes that looked down upon her.

Tell her. Was her twin's final advice as Sorcha blinked upwards at the small black bodies riddled upon the tree branches that judged her from the canopy and slowly her eyes closed.

*Musical inspiration: Own Little World - Celldweller

#bloodfeud #Far Cry #fanfic #citra talugmai #vaas montenegro #dennis rogers #oc

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maleficfiction · 10 years

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Lions and Lambs Chapter 6: No Rest for the Wicked

Even more so in just the last week. In the blink of an eye it was like her entire life had ended and here she was...having a nice reflective stroll through hell. But rather then dwell on the fact that she didn't know what any of the noises were, and if those noises might kill her, she just walked with her head down and the smooth polished glock in her hand that she'd lifted back from Ash. She could have the rifle instead. Sorcha didn't like the rifle all that much, it was just....unwieldy really and she didn't fancy being winded every time she used it either. Just reminded her of how weak her body had gotten thanks to the wound on her chest. A great many of her own bodily resources seemed to have gone to just staying alive and as a result she had lost a great deal of the power in her body that she once had the week before, power she'd no doubt used to ...do whatever she'd done.

She sighed at the realization that her memory was still gone, all shattered pieces of shattered pieces laid out everywhere that her boots crunched on with each step. And even still she didn't know how she was even to tell Ashley either. Um yeah. I don't remember like anything that happened to use, care to fill me in?. Cause that would just go so well wouldn't it? And besides...she wasn't about to make her relive it all just for the sake of her. Sorcha had a pretty solid idea as to what was going on and it was all summed up into two words, killer pirates. And they wanted their skins. That was all she needed to know. All she wanted to know rather. But it didn't escape her as to the significance of the dream that drove her out here into the dangerous embrace of the jungle...and just the memory of it made her shiver. She would kill that man...for what he'd done. And if Sorcha was anything in the end, it was determined. And maybe that was why she was still here....too stubborn to die by his hand. The great and glorious fuck you to the man named Vaas who thought he could just gun her down like game. Well surprise motherfucker. Yet still the tears returned and she stopped a top of a smooth flat rock to wipe them away in the dim light of morning. She couldn't tell anyone any of this... her pain had to stay her own right now. Because if it didn't...she didn't want to watch the effect it would have on Ash. Cause heaven forbid Sorcha show weakness here...or right now. She had to be the strong one in the end, because if she wasn't strong then they would both perish.

She hadn't walked far from Amanaki, rather she'd just been walking circles around it, aimless zombified circles for what seemed like hours – which around here was more like half an hour at most and as the jungle began to shift to life it was the snort of a pig that caught her attention. It was a large and potbellied boar who shuffled out from the underbrush and vines with snout to the ground, in the hunt for truffles no doubt he was...but his tusks were battle worn and crusted with brown. The animal took no notice of her but she noticed him and with invested interest she watched the fat little thing waddle by on his merry old way as her stomach finally decided to rumble. When was the last time she'd eaten anyway? Maybe that question alone was the answer to itself. If she couldn't remember then it was far too long ago.

And slowly the redhead stepped off her little fortress once convinced the boar had gone away and wasn't going to come charging at her out of the blue and she turned slowly to return back to Amanaki. The sun had risen and maybe by now some people were awake...and maybe someone had food she could bribe from them too. Almost absently she'd reached into the deep pocket of her pants to retrieve the smart phone from its contents and as she touched the phone's face to life she sighed as she glanced over the mess of icons riddle upon the screen, mostly games. But one of them bore an icon like a sort of map and as she tapped it to open she was stunned to watch the digital outlay of the island spring forth, a charming little animated circle adorning one spot upon the map iconicly named Amanaki village. Blinking she came to a dead stop, both in shock and amazement as her discovery as she paned the map over to the red dot placed upon – what she assumed to be the radio tower just up the hillside. Then she slid the map downward, following the river right back down to a cluster of little red dots all congregated into one little place – an encampment. Some of them moved ...others didn't and in the midst of them was one little gold dot that seemed to pace back and forth in the middle of the camp. Slowly the smile that had been preparing to creep onto her face withered away as she realized that these little dots were other devices giving off the same signal that the radio tower was picking up. And that meant so was her little device as well. “GPS signals..” She whispered, the color slowly draining from her face, “What have I done?”

She tapped the map to close then as her thumb glided over the contact list, gasping slightly at the sheer amount of them listed as she moved to a steady jog back towards Amanaki. Julio, Benny, Boss, Big Boss, Angor, Pete, Carlos, Juan one two three forty fucking five...the list was endless and she felt her heart skip in her chest as the had just lowered the phone only to his it chime to life in her digits. She came to a sudden, unexpected stop then and lifted the device back up. Another text message...reading Boss. He just didn't stop...did he? Every ounce of her wanted to ignore it....yet she knew better then to do just that. Ignoring it wasn't going to make the problem go away and she tapped the icon quickly, her skin whitening at the text upon the screen.

'Good morning nena, did you sleep well? I had a redhead last night but she wasn't as much fun.'

Her hands shook as she struggle to hold the device, a wave of nausea overtaking her and before she could even think about it she doubled over with a sharp gag, her throat burning as she expelled her own bodily fluids into the grass at her feet with a cough and a whimper. Another heavy had stung her chest as the wound on her shoulder grew irritated and brought her down to her knee as she coughed and swallowed back the unsettling feeling, breathing in air that just didn't seem to fill her lungs. “Walk it off...” She whispered as the phone chimed again, and like a moth to a flame again she looked.

'Hey I'll see you soon ok Nena?'

“Fuck!” She swore as she forced herself back onto her feet, scrambling to remove the phone casing in order to rip the battery clean out of it before dropping the pieces back into the side pocket of her pants. “Walk it off!” She reminded herself as she heavy again and covered her mouth, stepping back into a sprint as she came back through the jolly archway of the town. In an instant he spotted Ash and she slowed down to a brisk pace as she approached the girl and an increased speed. “We have to go.” She announced as she flew past the confused looking blonde, glancing back a few paces away, “Now!” She had to find Dennis and fast.

- What?" Though she got no immediate answer Ash still scrambled to her feet to follow after Scorcha, having to jog to keep up with her pace. "What's wrong? What happened? You look like you saw a ghost..." "Scorcha! Ash!" At the sound of Dennis' voice Ash stopped to turn, finding the man jogging the distance between them and motioning for Ash to keep moving. "We must go, now. The pirates, they know you are here in Amanaki. They are on their way as we speak." One look at Scorcha's face and Deenis knew instantly that she somehow knew, though he would ask how later. There were more important matters at hand now, and they needed to leave right then. He motioned for the two to follow after him as he led them up a slight inclined path leading away from the makeshift plaza of the village, all the while craning his neck anxiously to look at the roads before it. "How do you know they're coming?" Ash asked breathlessly, not needing to be told to climb into the Jeep parked rather haphazardly on the dirt road.

"I thought it wise to keep track of their movements through the radios, given that you two were here." Waiting until both girls were safely seated in the Jeep he started the ignition and sped off, only really breathing easier once they had spent nearly five minutes driving. "You may want to keep low. The roads are unsafe," He advised, nodding when Ash scooted down in the backseat so only her eyes were level with the windows. "Where are we going, then? Oh!" At once Ash sat bolt upright again with a look of abject horror painted on her face, turning to look back in the direction of the village. "What about the people? If the pirates are coming, won't they be hurt? Shouldn't we have helped?" At that Dennis shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of him with the breakneck speed he kept the Jeep at. "Vaas himself is on the way there. It would be unwise for you to face him now, even together. He is looking for you; If you are not there, then he will leave the village in peace. I know," He added with a short chuckle, seeing Ash about to open her mouth again upon catching sight of a gray truck following behind them.

"They are Rakyat. Do not worry about them, they are your allies here." With the unfamiliar word Ash frowned slightly, casting the men in the truck another glance before she curled back up in her seat, chewing her lower lip anxiously. "Where are we headed then?" "Citra. She is the leader of the Rakyat, and the one who will show you how to find your Paths. Her temple is safe. My friend..." For a moment Dennis took his eyes off the road to glance over at Scorcha, one brow raised in curiosity. "How did you know the pirates were coming?" He'd seen the day before she'd had a phone, which he'd of course assumed she had stolen... But surely she had turned it off once she'd gotten news of calling for help being useless. He certainly hoped that was the case, and if not before then he prayed it was now.

His second text sent, Vaas returned to the GPS app to resume watching the little dot in Amanaki he knew belonged to Scorcha. For all the trouble Red and Blondie had given him before, this seemed almost too easy. He'd finally figured out how the two had made it out of his camp without anyone even seeing, having seen something glittering on the gate when he'd gone to investigate the odd light coming from below his stage. The little heart necklace currently sat safely atop his t.v, though he hadn't quite figured out what to do with it yet. He'd think of something, he just- His thought trailed off immediately. The dot had disappeared, meaning the phone had been turned off or broken. "Fuck," He swore under his breath, whistling shrilly to get his mens' attention. "MOVE OUT, NOW!!" He shouted, starting for the nearest truck's driver seat. It was quickly filled by a panicked-looking bald man who seemed incredibly relieved to have gotten there first, though for now Vaas found no amusement in Benny's reaction. Somehow, Scorcha had known he was tracking her. And now she'd taken that away, so that no doubt meant she was going to get Blondie to make a run for it.

Not that it would matter much. They had the vehicles, the guns, the manpower and they owned the roads over the entire island. It wasn't going to be hard to find two little girls running from the village. At most he'd have them safe and sound in the backseat of this truck in ten minutes. And that was being generous. No matter the outcome, though, the people of Amanaki were in for a lecture. They'd helped the escapees, given them shelter from Vaas and his men, and that would prove to be a real fucking problem in the future, if anything like this ever happened again. Vaas doubted it would... But you could never be too careful. In a matter of barely two minutes the convoy of pirates had reached the village gates, and his men were quick to jump from their respective vehicles hooting and hollering, a few overenthusiastic ones firing their guns into the air.

The effect of their arrival was immediate, sending villagers scattering and screaming as the pirates stormed into the place. Vaas wasn't terribly worried about anyone getting out, not with his boys having already surrounded and corralled everyone in and held them at gunpoint, where they either stood huddled around in little groups or cowered on their front porches. "Listen UP!!" He shouted, firing his own pistol into the air to quiet the screaming into quiet crying at most. He paused a moment to look around at all the faces in the village, as though he could discern what he needed to know just by looking at them. "Two little American girls ran in here, and what did you do with them? Hm?" He addressed a man nearby, quickly moving on from him when all he did was shrink back. "I asked you a QUESTION!!" If they were here, there was no possible way they didn't hear him, that much he was certain of. "You know what you do with strays when you find them? You send them back to the fucking pound! You don't take them in, otherwise they keep coming BACK."

With a simple incline of his head, Vaas signaled for his men to begin searching the houses while he stayed in the heart of the village. "You don't want them coming back, huh?" He asked, turning a girl's tear-stained face upwards with the muzzle of his gun. "Do you?" The girl shook her head frantically with a whimper, breathing an audible sigh of relief when her answer seemed to satisfy Vaas into turning away from her. "Boss, they're not here!" Vaas rolled his eyes and groaned in irritation, turning on his heel to stare at the pirate who'd called the news across the village to him. "Then what do we do now, Juan? Hm? What do we do? WE GET ON THE FUCKING ROAD AND FIND THEM!" He did so enjoy the company of his boys, as fun as they could be... But sometimes, he could have sworn they were all born with an I.Q. of maybe a solid three. Except for Benny, he amended to himself. Benny was a bright bulb in a box of dims and it very quickly made him one of the favorites that he now moved to face.

"Benny, man... Get back in the truck. We're going hunting, hermano." As an afterthought he turned back to face the still-reeling villagers, motioning at them in a sweeping motion with his gun. "Let me find out you helped them again," He stated quietly, glaring out at the lot of them. "Let me find out... And I will come back with a fucking rocket launcher. Good talk, you guys. LET'S GO!"

Stupid. She reminded herself as she followed the Liberian up the incline without so much as a huff of effort on her part. There was no time for weariness, there was no time for words, there was only time to run and to keep running and to never look back. Because if there was anything that she had learned from all of this, it was that she was a wicked thing...and there was no rest for the wicked. That was something that she shared with the Pirate King himself perhaps...and even though she couldn't see him...she could feel him. And she just knew...deep down in her bones that he hadn't rested. No. Why would he when his prize was so nearby, when his futile attempts to delve into his own sick imagination had failed to serve him the satisfaction that he wanted? The only sort of satisfaction that only she could really give him. He could play pretend all he wanted with other poor souls with hair like hers...maybe a similar body type if he was lucky but they weren't her. And that was something that frustrated him greatly. He was a man obsessed....and she only had herself to blame for it in the end. Just like she was the one to blame for why they now had to flee their moment of sanctity within the walls of Amanaki, amongst people whom were not crazy yet not exactly sane either. The people of the island were a different kind of beast, tame certainly, but when threatened they would turn on them. Sorcha knew this. And maybe it was better this way.

Better to leave then be seized in their sleep by a silent convoy let into the village and lead straight to them if it meant the people could keep their peace. And yet....was running away really the best option within itself? Running away with this man called Dennis no doubt to some woman called Citra who led this mysterious tribe of Rakyat that peppered this island? Sorcha couldn't help but look sidelong at Dennis as he drove the vehicle next to her, an intense kind of stare that wasn't broken for many seconds as she contemplated just what his intentions really were. After all... why would he leave his village behind for the sake of two foreign women, go so far as to take them to their leader...just what did he gain out of all of this madness in the end? She did wonder indeed. And the way he spoke about Vaas...like he had known the man for many years – even though he himself was just a foreign here as they were. She questioned his relationship to the pirate in those moments as the wind whipped through her tied hair and she glanced into the mirror to spy Ash hunkered down in a cartoonish way before she suddenly leapt up in her seat in some morbid realization. And for good reason, the thought about the welfare of those people hadn't even occurred to her in those frantic last moments of realization that she and Ash were not safe there. And then again...maybe she was right not to think of them. They appeared to somehow had found a level ground with the pirates...but what they had to do to keep them at bay was an even more intriguing question. Yet... maybe they weren't safe anymore. Because they had aided two escaped slaves, property of Vaas himself, and they did nothing to impede their escape either. The idea made her heart hurt as her fingers came to cover her mouth briefly.

“You know nothing.” Sorcha had practically spat towards Dennis. Bold of her to speak against him but Sorcha knew that man just a little better then the Liberian did, he hadn't seen that look in his eyes...she had. And she knew what it meant and what the consequences of it would be, “He won't leave them in peace.” No. He would not.

And at the sight of the gray truck suddenly close in the rear view Sorcha had risen and turned in her seat as her fingers gripped upon the gun in her belt, only stilled by Dennis' words...but they did nothing to comfort her as she leered at the four men garbed in blue in the second vehicle. She didn't trust them just like she didn't trust that boar not to shank her despite how complacent it looked. It was always the innocent looking ones that bite the hardest...most of the time. And slowly she began to sink back down in her seat, turning even slower, as she fought back the urge to vomit again when the Liberian spoke to her and she looked sidelong at him as neutrally as she could possibly look....but both the sickness and the anger and the guilt couldn't be so easily be hidden. “A tiger told me...” Came her mumbled reply as she pressed herself against the door in as she drew her knee's against her chest.

“Oh my god...” The words slipped past the pirates lips like water as his yellow painted world became just a little darker as he approached the lines of slave cages set within the camp and reached out to grip on of the thick shoots with his open hand. The other held his phone, which dutifully recorded every moment, as he stared inward at the huddled body of a woman trying her best to hide in the farthest corner from him. Her body was tightly curled and her ginger hair was messy and tangled, and it covered her sobbing face. He didn't have to see her to understand just how upset she really was. Her clothes barely hung on her now, having been mostly ripped to shreds while her porcelain white skin was now a different hue of purples and blues and yellows, peppered by legions and cuts and scrapes....but it was the bite marks that were the worst. Benny knew they would infect if they didn't get treat...just like he knew that they wouldn't in fact be treated at all. It was the same with how that Tiger was never fed once the Boss was done looking at it, this girl was no different. Chewed up meat and spit out because he didn't fancy the taste of her...Benny could tell the brutality of the attack by the blood on the girl's thighs...and the way she cried uncontrollably. “He's a fucking monster, boss.” Benny whispered, “I've never seen him this bad before.” No one had. That was where Dennis had his fault really. He didn't know the state of Vaas these days and in ignorance he underestimated the man by taking in those two girls into the town.

And for the millionth time since his stay on this island working for a maiming and murdering psychopath seemingly with no end in sight all for the sake of gathering enough intel to bring the entire American government down on this place like flies to shit Benny felt absolute horrible, and sick at the images through his yellow tinted sunglasses. He really had to be some sort of horrible fucking person to just stand by and watch all this shit happen, and his team leader had to be the goddamned devil himself to just sit there and do nothing and still sleep like a baby at night. “Those natives have no idea what they've just done to themselves...” He added, as if he were talking to a ghost...and really he was. The Rakyat had been loosing this war for a years now...but now – now they had really crossed the boundary that they didn't even know existed. And that meant things were about to get real bad around her. Really. Bad.

In reality though Benny felt horrible for those two girls. Because it was his fault that Vaas now knew where they were, because he was under orders, orders he didn't like but he carried out anyway. Orders that told him to slip the girls location to the Pirate King. The intention behind them was good sure...but there was so many ways that this could go so wrong so quickly. And when Vaas shouted for them to move out suddenly Benny jolted and ran quickly towards the truck, practically diving into the driver's seat before the Boss could even think about driving that piece of crap. “God I hope you got a game plan.” Benny mumbled as he stowed his phone away and in seconds the convoy was roaring across the roads the short distance towards Amanaki Village. Benny however, prayed those girls were gone. He didn't want to see what would happen if they were there.

Benny was the last one out of his vehicle as the slew of maniacs with guns paraded into the little village like they owed it....and in reality – they did. Lately they had been lax with this place, ignoring the people here in most part until someone's dick got hard for a girl anyway. These people were useless to them...but Vaas hadn't reached the point of tired of looking at them just yet. So for the moment they lived only on borrowed time, time that he suspected had been sliced in half now thanks to this little misdeed.. Sometimes Benny wondered if he kept these ones around because they were close and he could come and terrorize them whenever he was in a bad fucking mood, that probably wasn't a far stretch from the truth either. Vaas was and wasn't hard to understand all at once. And as Benny stepped carefully out into the clearing of the village he pulled his phone out again, taping a panorama of the scene quickly unfolding before all of them while trying to look as casual about it as possible. “If he gets those girls he'll kill them boss.” Benny whispered into his earpiece, pretending to tick and roll his shoulder slowly, “Especially the redhead.”

“Huh?” Benny suddenly spat stupidly when Vaas growled his name and instantly he dropped his phone to hand at his side, “Hunting where?” He asked, unsure if Vaas meant the girls or actually hunting...it could have been either one and slowly he returned back to the truck as he was instructed.

Though his brows rose at Scorcha's outburst, Dennis said nothing of it. No doubt the girl was angry, frightened and was lashing out; something he understood all too well. "Perhaps not entirely in peace," He amended with a halfhearted shrug. "But it is unlikely they will hurt anyone. Their purpose today was to find you, and now you are not there. At most they will frighten them into no longer offering shelter. But Amanaki is not the only safe place on the island; you just need to know where to look and how to make a safe place." Thankfully they were a little more than halfway to the temple, the little haven it was. For the most part the pirates ignored the temple after the Rakyat had managed to defend it ferociously from their attacks, leaving Citra's temple the metaphorical elephant in the room that no one mentioned to Vaas unless they were looking to be shot. With Citra's guidance, the two would blossom into something equal parts terrible and beautiful, Dennis was sure. Citra had her ways.

For the remainder of the drive Ash watched the route they took, eyes keeping careful track of the road's twists and turns. Twice now in the near distance she's seen columns of black smoke that Dennis had seemed to take caution to drive around, going so far as to avoid using the road that would presumably run by wherever the smoke came from. "That smoke... Where is it coming from?" "Pirate outposts. They have strongholds all over the island. It is why traveling like this is dangerous, but in our circumstances... Well, it was faster than walking." It was a pity, really, Ash thought with a scan of the surroundings. The island in and of itself was a beautiful place, all covered in lush and flowing clear rivers like the one the bridges had spanned across. At some point she'd even seen a group of brightly colored birds startled into flight by their noisy convoy of sorts, nothing like she'd ever seen before except for in nature shows on television. And yet for all its beauty this rose of a place had turned out to be full of wicked thorns. It was honestly a shame.

"You should be able to sit up now. I doubt there are any of Vaas' men so close to the temple." Finally Dennis had seemed to relax enough to let up on the gas some as the foliage seemed to get progressively more unkempt and tangled, as though they were entering a part of the island left as much alone as possible. More than ever Ash's curiosity was piqued by the sudden change in the jungle overhead, where the branches and leaves grew close enough together that it blocked much of the sunlight from reaching the ground. "Oh wow," She breathed out, her eyes having followed the broken bits of smooth pathway that led up to what could only be this temple's gate. Damaged as it was with most of the pave stones missing and the twin to the lion statue toppled onto the ground, it was still a thing of ancient beauty in a savage land. "Wait until you see the inside," Dennis chuckled, finally pulling the Jeep to a stop and shutting off the engine. "Now, I must warn you. The Rakyat, they are warriors. Try not to move too suddenly, ok?"

Still staring up at the temple gate, Ash hopped out the back of the Jeep and paused only to retrieve the knife she'd thankfully still carried. At some point she was going to have to find a sheath for the blade, but for now it suited her fine to either keep hold on it or stash it away in one of the belt loops like she'd been doing. In light of Dennis' advice she deemed the latter a better idea than the former as she followed behind the man, feeling for all the world like some big change was about to occur. What it was, she still had no clue yet.

"Dennis!" The sudden voice made Ash jump slightly and look up, though she could see no source for it immediately. "Who stands with you?" "I have brought two young warriors for Citra!" He called back, and after a few beats of silence the heavy gate doors began to swing open. "Try to answer her honestly and you will be fine." The Liberian motioned for the girls to follow him through the gate, leading them into what for all the world looked like something straight out of a history book. A set of uneven stone steps lined with torches led back out into the open air courtyard, and true to Dennis' words it was even more spectacular than the outside. Also true to his words, some of the biggest men Ash had ever seen guarded the path leading up to the gigantic tree in the heart of the courtyard, each of them tattooed heavily across their faces, chests and backs. Even if Dennis hadn't told them what the Rakyat were, Ash still would have looked at the men and thought 'warrior', from the way they held themselves to the tattoos, and with each of them wielding rifles about as big as her arm, it all but completed the picture.

They couldn't have gotten far. How much help were these scared shitless little villagers really going to give them? "Hunting where?" Vaas repeated, pausing in climbing back into the truck to fix Benny with an eerie grin. "Benny, c'mon, keep up with me man. We got girls we're hunting, remember? 'Protect the product'." This he said with an absolutely horrid imitation of Hoyt's accent, butchering it with the combination of his own but seeming to amuse himself. "Can't protect them if they're out with all the lions and tigers and bears and shit, huh? So, we're hunting." Again he pulled out his phone to check the map, ignoring the little dots representing his men for the moment. "It's not like they're getting real far. Watch the roads!" He called out to two of the cars as they backed out before he returned to his perusal of his map. "So if I was a scared little bunny, where would I go...? You and me, Benny, we're going to the jungle."

Vaas hoped the two had gone into the jungle, he really did. While they would be so fucking easy to simply snatch up on the side of the road, there was a primal part of him that just plain enjoyed the chase before the capture. And the capture was bound to happen; this was his island, as he so liked to remind everyone. He knew it better than he knew himself anymore, knew every single twist and turn and hiding spot because he himself had made use of them so many times before. Three days to find my product, Vaas. That suited Vaas just fine, really. If he caught them today, he'd have his redhead to himself for a night or so... Wouldn't have to call Hoyt the very second he had them, he figured, seeing as he was the one doing all the work. And that redhead last night just hadn't done a thing for him. Oh, she looked like she'd have put up a fight. Looked at him the same way Scorcha had right up until he'd gotten her alone, and the bitch had started crying. Hadn't put up the slightest bit of resistance no matter what he'd done and eventually he'd just had one of his boys take her away when she just frustrated him.

He knew exactly what he was going to do with Red when he got his hands on her. Blondie, though... He still hadn't decided exactly what her fate would be. Whatever it was would be nothing short of art, though, that much was certain. "Head out for the cliff side," He said finally to Benny, not looking up from his phone. Where he really wanted to go was a little closer to where he'd once called home, but he doubted the two could have possibly made it much further than the outpost- and that was being incredibly generous. He had no real way of knowing that was the direction they'd headed, but he knew his sister and he knew her underlings. They'd be trying their hardest to pull the escapees into their net. Already had pulled them in, really- they hadn't wasted any time in inking up Red and he knew by now they'd probably have done Blondie too. "When we get there, you and me, man... We're gonna tear this fucking place apart, you hear me? You just watch your back, though, they bite."

Sorcha too was quiet as the jeep hurdled along a twisting and winding pathway, rattling along holes and over rocks laid in it's path. The road was rough to say the least and it made it hard to be comfortable, not that comfort was a luxury openly available when one was assailed by bad men with big guns who wanted to do bad things to you and eat your flesh as celebration. Even as Dennis talked to calm her and conversed with Ash they might has well have shouted the things they said...and she still wouldn't have heard them. The voices in her head were far louder then those on the outside. Each one screaming even louder then the other all at once to try to convince her to do what it wanted rattled her head as she laid against the jeeps door with the wind howling in her ears. Fight or die. One was saying. Another determined that hiding and running was the only option. Another just laughed for no reason, as if greatly amused by their opinions but knew better then they did and yet said nothing to add to the conversation. A third was a familiar growl, the only one who did not try to raise her voice. And it was ultimately her quietness that spoke the loudest of the lot...but Sorcha couldn't understand what she was saying. It sounded almost like gibberish or a different language but...she knew that it wasn't. She knew the words...yet she just couldn't derive their meaning.

“You look uncomfortable, malaya.” Sorcha gave paused, “What?” She asked dryly as she looked towards the Liberian next to her with eyes trained upon the darkened road before them, that didn't sound like Dennis at all... and that was because it wasn't. The Liberian was still driving the jeep yes but he continued on gazing through the windshield, his lips were moving into some string of sentences but his words were a distant garble. She could tell that he wasn't even talking to her either, but to Ash, when he glanced past his shoulder to the blonde girl who had risen back up into her seat. Sorcha looked at her too through the mirror. She looked so...calm. Nothing like how she looked at that very moment. Almost as if nothing had even happened to her...but they both knew that wasn't true. Even when Dennis looked her way, obviously wondering why she'd not said anything Sorcha only looked over at him, impassive yet her eyes spoke for her. The distrust and the confusion was what made her eyes so bright these days. He said something to her, barely audible above the noise in her head as her brows knit together as his only response.

“Is it this goddamn heat?” She jerked then as the jeep suddenly halted, sliding slightly on bald tires and the slippery dirt as dust clouded her vision. Instantly there was silence. And it was unnatural. Slowly she climbed from the jeep and set herself down upon land again as she peered downward at a small deer trail that ended abruptly where overgrown and uplifted cobblestones had once made a pathway on the jungle floor, stones that lead upward to a great and old temple hidden away within a nook of the jungle right upon the Island's edge. Never in her life had she seen such a amazing...yet foreboding sight. There was a reason why Vaas and his men were not found here. And she imagined that was the same reason why the birds did not sing, why the jungle did not whisper and why animals did not cry and scurry in the overgrowth. There was something truly evil here...if nature herself was silent.

Got yourself all inked up, you're gonna be a warrior now. Huh? You have no fucking idea what's coming, chica. No idea. The memory cross her mind, making her shudder where she stood as his voice echoed inside of her head. All of his nonsensical nonsense rattled in her mind like loose bones in a glass jar...like he knew something that she didn't know – but was expected to somehow get without an explanation. But damned if that fool wasn't completely right. Yet she moved down the pathway with her friend anyway...even though she knew it was a bad idea. Human conditions and all that bullshit. But she never once look her eyes off of the blonde girl who stared around this place in complete and total amazement. Sorcha was slowly beginning to realize that she didn't understand her, she didn't get how she could be this way after everything that had happened. She just wandered forward blindly with a smile and a nod. Almost like a puppet. Sorcha had even looked upwards, expecting to find the strings when a man's voice rang out and her fingers tightened upon the handle of Vaas' gun at her hip, which she hadn't even noticed she'd been holding onto nearly the entire drive here. But if she is a puppet...and you follow her lead, what does that make you?

“Shut up.” Sorcha growled beneath her breath as Dennis responded dutifully to the voice with such command that it silenced the other, whom was hidden somewhere. Citra. There was that name again. And only just the name. Nothing about who she was, why she was here, what she meant to everyone and everything. Just...Citra. And when the temple gates creaked and groaned as they scraped against themselves to open with difficulty the Liberian spoke again, “Try to answer her honestly and you will be fine.” He stated, gesturing quickly for them to follow as he skipped up the stairs. He seemed to excited all of a sudden but his words reflected darkly in her mind. Maybe she didn't want to answer this woman at all? Then what? What if she didn't like what this woman had to say...and if she chose to lie to her then what would happen? Hardly the impression one person who was claiming to be of aid to them...wasn't it? Of course Sorcha stood along in her illation, as usual. No one in the world thought quite like she did, unfortunately.

She followed Dennis up the stone slab stairs just about as willingly as a cat taking a bath as the dim corridor lined with torches illuminated the way upwards to the final steps that lead into the great courtyard of the temple. Her eyes left Ash to look upon the paintings upon the wall curiously as the sight of two massive men came into eye line as she climbed up the stairs with slightly difficulty thanks to the limp in her gait. Instantly she froze next to one of them, looking at him while he looked right back at her with distrust but tolerance. She saw the same his hands tightened upon his rifle but it was hardly his gun that captivated her interest in him so suddenly, rather it was no he at all. It was the tattoo he bore upon his shoulder. A tattoo of such like style to the one that Vaas almost wore on his arm. Two bands, one upper, one around the wrist....and three different animals adorned into an intricate work of art by only the most skilled of hands. Wait.... Sorcha's eyes left him to fall upon her shoulder as well where the white band had been placed and the image of the phoenix broke out of it in all it's blazing glory. Then finally her eyes settled upon Ash as she walked with Dennis a head to the center of the courtyard where someone was waiting for them at the trunk of the great tree that provided shade for the entire temple. Ash had two bands...and a shark on her arm.

“He has a Tatau.” Sorcha worded her realization out loud and she moved up the last step much more quickly, walking much like a sidewinder across the courtyard towards her friend and Dennis, the shock present upon her face but she wasn't so sure what to do with this information just yet...nor if she should have shared it either given the ...situation.

Sorcha's straggling had not gone without notice by the temple priestess who stood before the great tree proudly with two warriors at either side of her, ready to fight and die at her mere beckon. And as Sorcha caught up Citra watched her closely as she walked in and out of the sun rays through the tree's before she turned her eyes upon Ash who now stood before her with her right hand, Dennis. It did not go without notion that Citra was...a little disappointed to see the both of them, after hearing of such grandiose stories of these two rebels who had made her brother's life extremely difficult in the last week or so. Then again...when was Citra ever truly pleased with anything? But she had been expecting to see men...not women. This however was light heartening within itself, knowing that it was two of the very things that Vaas tormented and sold for drugs and guns that had finally turned around and bitten him. And to survive this infraction no less? The god truly must have favored them both.

“Menjadi selesa.” Citra ordered to the men at her sides and slowly they lowered their weapons as they had been commanded. And slowly the jungle goddess decended down the few steps between she and these girls, eyes drinking in their features as she came to stop before Sorcha, blinking as her eyes hovered over the unbandaged wound upon her chest. She felt something...unsettling from this girl as she examined the wound – knowing very well from who's gun this had come from and what its intention had been at that very moment. To kill her. “Why are you here?” Citra whispered, as she stepped back from the redhead almost as if talking to herself then anyone else, as if she knew that it was practically impossible for this woman to even be standind here right now. There was a foul force at work here...to raise this one from the dead. And Citra wondered as to why...why would the Island deny nature her debt? Sorcha only watched her in total silence as she crept around to the girls back, reached out to slide her fingers through her auburn hair as she took in the other side of her. She was powerful wasn't she? And absently she touched upon Sorcha's wrist, raising the girls hand in order to have a closer look at the gun she held onto so feircely, instantly Sorcha jerked her limb away from her and slowly Citra's lips curled into the sliest of grins. “It takes great skill to declaw a tiger.” Citra said wisely, knowing her brother's weapon of choice just as she knew Hoyt's as well. And as she came around to the redhead's front she read the tags the girl wore around her neck before her eyes passed to the faint Tatau painted upon her shoulder, humming softly, “Beautiful.”

And then there was the smaller of the two, the blonde. A very common shade amongst outsider women she'd come to notice...but this one looked far more natural then most of the others. With a grace she glided across the grass to address Ashley this time, fingers rising to cup the girls chin as she looked her up and down and up again. This one's Tatau was done in black, the opposite of her friend here, and bore with it the shark. A powerful guide to start with...it said a lot about this one as Citra too circled her. She was small but nimble this one was and in her hand she held too a familiar weapon. A feat that was certainly unheard of. Vaas was a terrible foe to survive and to escape with a souvenier that wasn't a gaping wound he'd caused...but to relieve the Tyrant of his blade? That took a different kind of skill; luck of the draw. And perhaps that was all that this way in the end, meanigless luck. And in this little blonde she saw a certain kind of innocence...and a deep seeded pain that could only stifle her progress upon her Path in the end...if the wound was not properly mended.

“You have escaped the jaws of fiends.” Citra announced as she came back around to Ash's front and strode back up to the top of the stairs to stand with her warriors. “But you are not the first to do so.” She was looking at Dennis when she spoke, as if silently badgering him for his excitement over two mere women of all things. He always had a habit of seeing things that were not there ...and taking action where he was not permitted to. Beloved by the gods, powerful or not... just because they had managed to keep their lives and survive the impossible did not make them warriors, it did not prove them worthy of the Tatau's they bore. Such things meant nothing until they proved to her their worth.

“Why should I offer you aid where I did not for others just like you?” Citra asked. Sorcha merely sneered, arms slowly crossing over her chest. There was something so very wrong with this creature that stood before her. In the way that she walked....the way that she spoke...it was all so familiar. Like a jungle cat ...playing with it's prey, “We don't want anything from you.” Sorcha finally responded, as cold as ice – bringing Citra's intense gaze onto her. “Do you always speak for others hm?” She asked just as coldly.

“Hey” Sorcha growled, rising a step upwards as the Rakyat rose their weapons upon her, but the redhead hardly flinched, “I don't know who you are...” She paused, looking the lightly dressed woman over slowly, she looked so much like he did... “But I'm already sick of your shit.”

“You dare speak up in the face of your death?” Citra questioned darkly, motioning for the men to relax again as she took a step down towards the redhead, who had looked slowly off to the side as if trying to force a knot out of her bones, “I'd like to see you try.” Came her own dark reply, the idea of dying was so beyond her comprehension. She had died once already...and even though she stood here in her flesh and bones...it didn't mean she was alive.

- Yeah. Protect the product. The first rule of Hoyt as they called it and consequentially it was the one rule most often broken by everyone. Benny knew just how well Vaas would protect those girls, if that redhead in the cage was any indicator of that. And even before that...when he'd tried to have Red back in his shack. Benny could only imagine what this man had tried to do to make her turn savage on him like she had. And to be honest there was no other sound in the world quite as satisfying as the sound of Vaas screaming out in pain and rage, but more so pain. But on the other hand, that stupid girl had only made everything a while lot worse for her and for Blondie. Hoyt was the man who did not tolerate disobedience, and when met with opposition, you found yourself roasting like a chicken in the furnace. Hoyt was a man who favored productivity above all else in his operations. And he was a nightmare when things did not go smoothly or as planned. Hoyt knew how to break someone, he was a sharp knife that bore patience, and when the right moment came he cut deep between the bones and he twisted. Hoyt was the slow and painful death.

But Vaas was something else entirely. Pushing back against him was something that he respected...but he would still kill you for it anyway. And by respect, it only meant he probably won't piss on your corpse afterward. Probably. Vaas liked to feel as if he hand all of the control, that he was on top. He didn't tolerate other alpha's in his midst's so he centered on them and killed them quickly...but not before they knew who was the boss. Vaas was still very much a warrior, and his taste for blood was insatiable. He found thrill in the fight...and when give an opponent who just might win? That was like the little cherry on top of his corpse sundae. That girl....by some sheer act of God had managed to slip him twice and put him on his ass. That was something Benny knew Vaas was holing onto...like some weird fetish it drove him crazy and primal. If she wouldn't have him he would have her so to speak, that was why they were here today. Because Vaas has gotten the scent of a cunt that smelt so sweetly he just couldn't resist. Benny didn't even want to think of what he might witness should that girl catch in his eye line anytime soon. But it would be nothing good.

“The cliff side? Are you sure?” Benny knew exactly where they were going at that point and as he began to maneuver the vehicle out of the village and onto the road he could see the excitement in his boss who was absorbed in his phone...looking for a dot that just wasn't there. This was a game that Vaas liked, the stakes were high and time just wasn't on their side, but the prize was worth it. These were the games that Vaas enjoyed. But not Benny, especially not Benny and it showed in the quiver of his voice. He had been to the temple before, with his boss, and he had seen the beasts that guarded it...and what they did to pirates that came too close. “We don't have any firepower...” Benny added, knowing that a few rifles and and grenades were not going to even begin to help them...wandering through enemy territory like that. But again...that was just part of this unfair game wasn't it? That was what Vaas enjoyed, but Vaas was once one of them. And Benny? Well Benny was purebred 'merican...and he didn't exactly feel like being scalped today.

“Wouldn't it be easier if we used the Heli?” Benny asked after a moment of silence as he pushed down hard upon the trucks pedal, ushering the beast to hurdle down the road at an unsafe speed. Vaas liked speed too. And Benny liked a happy Vaas, made things so much easier.

All at once it was as if the two had stepped out of a nightmare and into a storybook, with the difference between the world behind the temple gates. And there was Citra, who for all the world reminded Ash of some kind of mystic priestess as she circled Scorcha first with a calculating gaze. It was impossible to miss the disappointment in her eyes, as though Citra had somehow expected the two warriors being brought forth to be more than the girls provided. No doubt Scorcha had noticed it too, and if her expression was any indication then she didn't like it one bit. That was a look Ash had seen several times before her redheaded friend would call someone out for whatever offense they'd committed, though she could only hope Scorcha wouldn't decide to do exactly that here.

She was drawn out of her thoughts by the touch to her face, bringing her attention back to Citra as she found herself being circled now. Absently she tightened her grip on the knife in her hand, always having been one with the nervous habit of playing with whatever she held. Something about Citra's gaze made her feel incredibly small while the priestess looked her over with the same intensity as with Scorcha, as though she were just some child standing before the woman. As the woman's eyes settled on the tatau adorning her arm, something drew Ash to follow her gaze to find that one of the three small blank spots on the band was now filled. On the right there was now a little shark curled up in the dip of the ink, making the blonde do a double take. When did that get there? She didn't recall seeing Dennis put the little shark there, and she'd watched the entire tattooing process in fascination from start to finish. He had to have done it at some point, though, because it wasn't as though it simply appeared on its own.

As Citra again went to stand before the two with her gaze fixed on Dennis, the man shifted slightly with the weight of the unspoken words. Why did you bring them here? It was true that neither of the two looked like much, but there was a fire in the both of them that hadn't gotten a chance to be fully ignited. How else could they have survived and escaped, not once but twice now? All they needed was a chance to prove to Citra what Dennis had seen, and they would show themselves to be warriors every bit worthy of the tataus they bore.

We don't want anything from you. At that Ash turned to stare at Scorcha in vague horror, willing the redhead to look her way so she could try to telepathically ask her to kindly shut up. Too late, it seemed, from Citra's suddenly hostile tone. "Scorcha," She murmured, her eyes going from the redhead to Citra in mounting worry as each woman only seemed to feed off the other's hostility. This was going downhill, fast. Whatever it was the two had seen in the other, Ash had no idea, but the fact of the matter was they DID need help from these people. They were the only ones who had offered it on this godless rock, and against so many enemies they needed whatever allies they could get.

I don't know who you are... But I'm already sick of your shit. You dare speak up in the face of your death?

Death? This was beyond downhill now, it was rapidly spinning out of control. "Wait. Ok, stop. Stop," She hissed, stepping forward to tug Scorcha back by the hem of her shirt. "I'm really sorry. Give us one second, if you don't mind?" This she directed at Citra as she placed herself in the line of fire between the two before turning back to Scorcha and keeping her voice low. "No, hear me out. We kind of DO need their help. They've still got Scha'tzi. She's not here, she's on the south island. Hoyt's got her." Eventually she had figured out the big boss' name, no thanks to him, from the way his men spoke of him or addressed him when he'd come by the cell. It was odd, having a name to the face she'd come to think of as the devil to this hell. In all honesty it was far easier to shut him out when he was just a nameless monster rather than a person with an identity, not that it made much difference. Ash had already decided she loathed him. For what seemed like the hundredth time she shoved aside the mental images of the man himself to focus on what was immediately in front of her, currently in the form of an angry Scorcha.

"You weren't on the south island. It's way different over there, those men are actually smart. If we'd been over there instead of here then an escape wouldn't have even happened. As it is now, those pirates are a lot of trouble. These people are offering help and we do need it. We are stuck with no help from anyone, and if they're offering it then how can we not take it?" Her lips pressed together in a line at the mere thought of the island in question and all she'd seen there, and it was a good few moments before she collected herself enough to continue. "Look... I know you don't like it. It's not ideal or anything. But I know what they're doing over there and I'm worried if we don't move quick, we're not gonna be able to get her back. I don't know if he was lying or not but I heard Hoyt say there was a buyer in line. So... Bite the bullet with me and we'll figure something out together. Please?" As she'd spoken Ash pleaded with her friend mentally to comply, searching the redhead's eyes for any trace of the Scorcha she prayed was still in there somewhere.

"Just... Hold on a second. Um, ok." She cleared her throat, turning to face Citra again as she fiddled with her thumbnail nervously. "Listen... You obviously know what's going on out there and all. When we got here there were four of us. One of our friends is dead, and the other is stuck on the south island. And we can't just leave her there, so... We kind of do really need your help. It's just been really hard so far." She cast a quick apologetic glance behind her, already knowing Scorcha would be displeased to say the least. But we DO need the help, She reminded herself sternly. "So... I'm sorry. I don't even know where to start trying to get her back, and I left my rifle in Amanaki, even. This is so far beyond anything I could've even imagined... Whatever help you can give is appreciated."

"Benny, man," Vaas laughed in a disarmingly pleasant tone. "Fucking RELAX, would you? You act like someone put your nuts in a vice. We're hunting. We got firepower." As for the idea of a helicopter... Vaas scrapped that idea by ignoring the comment completely. While it would have been far easier to spot the girls, he also knew it would practically scream out their location for the entire island to hear. And last he knew, Citra's warriors had taken to shooting down their air support the moment it got too close. Around the time he'd seen one warrior make what was, in all reality, a spectacular throw of a grenade right into the cockpit of a low-flying helicopter... He'd stopped sending his men to their airborne deaths. Hoyt tended to yell when too many choppers got destroyed in one day anyway, unappreciative of the fireworks show as he was.

But on the ground... If Vaas didn't want someone to know he was coming, they wouldn't. Plain and simple. For all his unpredictability he still was capable of being a patient and stealthy hunter, descending upon his intended victim before they could so much as inhale in shock. It was riskier, yes, since the Rakyat warriors he'd once called brothers were also on the ground, but it was far better than announcing their presence too soon. "Just chill, hermano. We got enough firepower and I know what the fuck I am doing. Ok? Ok." He even had a plan for how to find his two runaways, not that he was going to share quite yet with Benny. It always was more fun with a little mystery, he'd heard it said once, and so he took it to heart.

"Look, when we get there just get your rifle and follow. Ok? I got this shit," He sighed defeatedly, knowing without looking that Benny would be pale as a ghost. Not that he wasn't white enough already, as Vaas so loved to remind him. For all his chickenshit habits though, the man was still halfway decent at getting his way around the jungle and he could fire a gun with notably more accuracy than most of his men. Both of these traits as well as the man's wit had quickly put him at the top of Vaas' favorite people list, an honor that Benny oddly didn't seem to relish all too much. Which was why Vaas so often dragged him along for jobs such as this; he'd warm up eventually, one way or another.

His plan itself was fairly simple, all things considered. There was one main road leading both ways away from the temple, and that meant there were two ways the girls could go, assuming they were still there. And if they weren't, so much the better. He really did hope they'd made their way into the jungle, the thought alone made him start rapidly tapping one of his fingers on the side of the rifle laid across his lap. It had been entirely too long since anything worthwhile had made it out of his grasp like this, and like a cat with a mouse... Few things brought Vaas quite as much pleasure as hunting down someone. Red and Blondie couldn't hide forever, and they could only run so far on his island.

Hoyt

The name stung in her ears for some reason, though she didn't know why. The name itself was foreign to her, no face, no voice came to mind to hear it spill from Ash's lips....yet she heard the tremble in the sound of her dear friend. That buried pain she tried so hard to hide away bubbled upward in the remembrance of this man and this South Island. In her eyes she saw the dread and the terror hiding just beneath the surface of those pretty orbs and it would have seemed that Ash had acquired her own demon in her untimely absence from the land of the living. Yet she spoke to her as if she knew this Hoyt, as if she had meet him before. And who's to say that Ash was wrong? Sorcha didn't doubt it yet still nothing triggered as she rolled the name around in her mind, not even trace of this man was left in her blackened memory. And quickly she felt the guilt return in full force, as if she had abandoned her people to these wolves in someway. Like her unfortunate accident was somehow her doing and her's alone. It had to have been... she was a fighter. And she fought too hard. And if Ash was so shaken then this monster must have been a great one... a monster who had what was her's on some elusive Southern Island that she didn't know existed. Instantly the confidence she'd found to speak against Citra vanished as the inevitable feeling of being adrift at sea returned and amber eyes adverted from Ash's in a sudden and dead silence. How did she even go about admitting to the girl that she had no idea who she spoke of? That she couldn't at all sympathize with her plight – not a single bit. Maybe part of her wished Dennis would have told her instead...somehow...hearing about it from him she felt would lessen the blow. Yet still that was a heavy burden to bear, and the last thing she wanted was to share that with Ash. Right right here. Not now. Not in this place.

This...place. She couldn't help look anywhere but at her friend while she pleaded with her to calm down. And deep down she knew that Ash was right. They did need help, any help. But she wasn't so convinced that it was these people that they should have been taking favors from...that was after all all Dennis had done so far. Merely taken it upon himself to help them of his own accord, his own agenda, but for what – that was what truly spooked Sorcha in her core. People rarely did good deeds without the promise of reward, much less natives who would go against their feudal and wild king. Dennis had put his life in danger, the lives of an entire town into jeopardy for two escaped slaves. There had to be a reason. And when she looked back towards the native queen she found her looking at her....like a purple eyed monster. Studying her closely... gauging her weakness like a predator within the tree's. And then she looked to Dennis who was calm and collected, he too looked at her – with a look she couldn't rightly describe. All of them were looking at her and in an instant she felt so small and embarrassed. You need people to watch your back. Just be careful they don’t stab you in it . But how did she know who was friend or foe here? Maybe that was the point...you couldn't. So trust only in yourself. Citra seemed a godsend, and the way these people moved around her and looked at her, they worshiped her as something more then human, more then beauty. But what was that saying? If it was too good to be true? Then it probably was? And slowly Sorcha drew in a rattling breath as she moved in closer to her blonde friend. “She isn't offering us help, Ash.” Sorcha had whispered into her ear grimly. And it was truth. Citra was demanding of them a reason to aid them, because she thought lowly of them like she thought lowly of others to swim against the currents. That was what Ash didn't see and it was all Sorcha could say to try to reason with the girl who saw things so differently from she.

And the girl kissed by fire was right to question the intention of others around her. For Citra within herself was perhaps the most dangerous creature that walked on the sands of this island. For she did not fight with violence nor guns, she was not fueled by drugs or money, like Vaas. She did not use card games and knives like his terrible master. Citra's weapons were her words and her allure. And about the only thing this ruler had in common with the other two was the men who did their bidding, but unlike them....Citra did not need her warriors to fell her enemies...when she could kill them slowly with a poison born from deceit and the blackness of ones own soul.

Since Hoyt's arrival Citra had seen many a prisoner make leap for freedom and even more gunned down trying. She knew well what the trade was, weapons, drugs, and slaves – the three rings of the Tyrant's circus and within it they all revolved as characters – some darker then others. Outsiders came in ignorance more often then the tides rolled in and out but Citra and her army were anything but sympathetic to their plight. This island was their land, taken from them by an outsider, their land that was not the right of others to tread upon as they pleased simply because she pleased their eye. And it was no different then the slaves who found themselves on these shores either. The concern of the Rakyat was their island and that alone, taking back what was by birthright theirs. What befell others who were not them was a worthless worry, an occupational hazard if you will, or simple obstructions in their path.

But every so often the tribe could be swayed in their ironclad ways, when an individual that proved themselves of worth arose. One such as Dennis, a man who once was nothing more then another outsider draw in by the siren song of the jungle, a man who in his soul was Rakyat, a man who did everything in his power to prove his worth to Citra. And prove himself he had, with the information he provided them and his knowledge of technology the Rakyat now bore weapons with ease and made use of the very same radio towers that their enemies utilized. But above all, he had survived Vaas' brutal act of vengeance against him for aiding she. In a way perhaps....these girls were not much different then he. Perhaps he saw in their defiance an image of himself....a fire that burned hot. And indeed there was a fire in them, she could see it brightly in the redhead ...but in the blonde it was a smolder hidden beneath her eyes. A quiet and silent resolve to achieve her victory no matter the cost.

And as the blonde made her point Citra looked down upon her proudly as her hands slid to settle upon her hips. So a friend is what brought them here, an unfortunate slave drawn in too close to the warmth of the fire that burned in Hoyt's breath. And another soul taken from this world, Citra did not need ask what befell him, she knew who it was. She could see his loss had cut deeply into the blonde as she remembered him in his final moments perhaps and slowly she too drew in her own breath as she toiled with her thoughts, another glance given to Dennis. “So you wish to battle the Tyrant.” Citra replied coldly as she drew down the steps again, slowly, deliberately so, “Is that all?” Sorcha felt a coldness inside of her chest – as if her very heart had stopped beating when Ash had dismissed her instead to plead with this ….thing. And as the jungle goddess came to stand before the shorter blonde she smirked, slyly yet condescendingly, “You will not win.” Citra began, “There are many evils on this island, and many monsters still. You are a lamb and he?” She paused as her eyes glazed across Sorcha again, “He is a wolf.” Slowly she turned to approach the redhead again, having seen the change in the girl when the name had been spoken. Citra knew the look of the lost, she had seen it many times before. This girl....she wondered if she really even knew what her name was anymore. Such was a penance to pay when death spat you back out in disgust.

“Hoyt is a Tyrant... who controls a Giant with his own twisted magic...” The bronzed skinned woman trailed off as she canted her head, “A giant that you know very well.” Sorcha felt herself tighten where she stood, as if vivisected by Citra's eyes alone....almost like she'd known what the look on her face really stemmed from – the horrible memory that replayed again and again in her mind. “Vaas rules this island. And so long as he rules....Hoyt will stay far from all reach.” Citra continued softly as her arms cross over her torso, “Tell me, are these monsters you wish to upset?” Sorcha realized the woman was talking to her but it was hard to meet her gaze as her fingers trembled in something that might have been called rage...or fear. And as if possessed she felt her lips begin to move, “Vaas is a man, and he will die just as easily.” Slowly Citra's head rose, as if pleased as she drew back away from the woman again.

“We shall see.” Citra whispered, “Membimbing mereka.” The Maylasian ordered and in an instant the two warriors that had stood behind her moved downward, each one producing a claw vial that sloshed with liquids in which they offered to each girl. “Return what has been stolen. And I shall help you.” Citra informed, gesturing for the girls to take the vials. Sorcha blinked, taking the object from the irritated looking Rakyat slowly whilist casting a distrusting look towards Ash as she shook her head slowly.

That tone. That was the reason why Vaas could freeze even the biggest of men. That fucking tone right there. And it wasn't because it was pleasant or seemed relaxed it was because it came from his mouth, this man who was knowing for his mass murder and torturing grown men with battery electricity and tarantulas in a fish bowl. Vaas was not a plesant man, nor was he a calm one. And that was why ....when he was quiet you fucking listened. That was why when he wasn't screaming or inventing brand new swears you paid close attention to his movements, because that meant some shit was about to get real serious over in that passenger seat if he didn't calm the fuck down like he was told to. And to be realistic, his balls might has well have been in a vice. A methaphorical vice judging by the way they felt like they'd shruken up into his creamaster. Already Benny was regretting jumping into the truck with him, even if he'd done it out of some frantic attempt to somehow stall the pirate king from his targets out of patriotism and to some degree to spare the truck that brutal end. And as the moments passed there was the golden word hunting. And it seemed that Benny boy .... was hunting his own kind. A couple of home grown and cultivated American women who got lucky but time wasn't on their side. It almost felt like cannibalism in a way, that he could do these things to his own people all with a smile on his face... even if he hated himself at the end of each day just a little bit more then yesterday. That was one thing he did appreciate about his boss though...that Top Gun motherfucker sure was silver when it came to the pep talks to keep his team sane and moral. Not that morals came in high abudance in these parts.

Benny knew there was nothing really left that he could say to change the psychotic pirate's mind about his tactics. Vaas had already made up his mind and when that happened that was the end of it. The man was known to fixate on the things that he wanted, and he never did let up until he got the desired results. Yet ironically enough he was always yammering off one thing or another about some definition of insanity that within itself described his habits to a terrible T. And yet the man was imcapable of realizing that he was the living defintion of his definitions, yet he held everyone else to the standards of not repeating themselves over and over and over agian while expecting shit to change. That was perhaps, within itself, the very essence of what insanity was and a clear picture of just how far this boy had fallen in such a short amount of time. Benny hadn't been here long enough to know if this kid had ever been sane or different then the way he was now....nor if he had worsened over the years or not. Vaas just was...like the jungle just lived so did he in her long shadow. Snarling and drooling and craving for destruction and pain. Vaas was hard to understand but...after a while you just sort of get it. Benny wasn't proud to admit that but he understood his so called boss by now, understood him enough to how to not piss him off anyway. If that mean anyhting at all.

And in silence he drove the truck down the dusty old road, maitaining the high speed, as the ground twisted and curved and gave away to sudden hill tops and clone croppings and from clear skies to dense and overgrown vegetation. That was the sign that the cliffside was just beyond the ridge and that the tample itself was nearby. And as Benny turned the truck off the road to conceal it amongst the very brush that sheilded the rays of the sun he was quick to slide out of the drivers seat, taking his rifle along with him which he held tightly to his chest. “Alright boss.... which way they go?” Benny asked casually, knowing well that Vaas was a hunter by birth and if there was a trail he'd find it like a bloodhoud could find a coon.

Slowly she'd begun to back away, one foot back and set down carefully into the lush plain of grass with a enough paused to ensure her stability before her other leg moved to mimic the first. All the while she watched the bronzed skinned native, who now done with these outsiders, had turned her back upon them and strode across the upper threshold to duck into the darkness of the temple doorway beyond without so much as a good bye. And good riddance, Sorcha thought as she lurched backwards lazily as the warriors too left them with their tasks done. Leaving only they and Dennis and a few other meandering bodies in the courtyard, whom had ignored them from the start anyway. And neither they didn't matter, the immediate threats had gone and slowly she'd turned on heel to face in the right direction. In her hand she absently held the neck of the vial loose at her side, not all to concerned if it managed to slip or not. Whatever was inside of it was anyone's guess...and she wasn't about to just drink it like that. For all they knew it was a poison, Citra's loving way of “helping” them for insulting her in the way that they had. And maybe she should have shown her more respect... but she wasn't sorry for it. It was one thing to be distrustful of outsiders....and something completely different to play upon a superiority complex. She might have been the queen of this island...but that didn't give her the right to treat them like peasants. And that was a term she used very lightly in this case. If Citra was supposed to be a ruler – then she wasn't doing a very good job of it at all. Even an idiot like Joffrey had done a better job of defending his country then this woman had of her island, and that was saying something right there. But it just went to show how some people were incapable of accepting reality....no matter how real it reminded them that it was.

And speaking of reality. Sorcha had stifled her frustrated sigh as her eyes rolled slightly in their sockets and Dennis spoke his mysticism some more. Talking about their 'paths' – a subject that he seemed to avoid truly explaining, amongst so many other questions he dodged up until now. He made it very hard to trust him when he chose cryptic over up front explanations. And when Ash looked at her for guidance, she wasn't meet when any sort of similar smile nor nod of encouragement. Only the cold, steel gaze of her friend, silently threatening her a very uncomfortable negativity if she bought into this tribal nonsense. Even with Dennis' reassurances, or rather vague reassurances rather. “Ash.” Sorcha warned, having read well into Dennis' response. He never said it was safe. He said it would effect her no worse then others before hand – and what had happened to those people? Were they alive today? And what was their health like? That was anyone's guess even... and right now Ash wasn't thinking. She was merely reacting to her surrounding, flailing for any small idea of safety that she could – but she wasn't thinking about the consequences. Nor the larger picture and what she did here and now might effect them in their future. The last thing they needed was to sabotage themselves unknowingly, they had to be careful. They were on a lost island, in an environment they weren't used to, and they could die from scraping themselves on the bark of a tree. That was how vulnerable they were...never mind the fact that there were men out there who wanted to do horrible things to them. They couldn't afford to be snared in by natives who for all anyone knew were looking at them like dinner, they couldn't afford to trust anyone....maybe not even one another.

But before she could react quick enough to rip the vial from the blonde's eager hands she had suddenly gulped down the liquid and a shock froze the redhead in place, amber eyes widening as Ash looked at her in the aftermath. Instantly she felt the beat of her heart reignite in her chest as a panic began to set in when the girl suddenly swayed and Dennis reached out to guide her down to the ground. “Ash!” Sorcha cried as she hurried forward, collapsing roughly at the blonde's side as she dropped her vial and reached tenderly for the Texan's neck in order to lift her head as carefully as possible. “ASH!” She yelled, shaking the unconscious girl slightly as Dennis merely chuckled warm heartened. Never in her life had a gesture sounded and felt so purely evil and when the girl didn't respond to her calls her chest tightened as she glared upwards at the Liberian. He had the gall to question if she would drink that same vile concoction. And in a flare of anger she bolted up from the grass, seizing the drapery of necklaces the slender man wore as she slammed him back into the wall of the temper with a ferocity that had knocked the man's large spectacles clean off his face.

“Fuck your way!” The girl snarled with white knuckles and shaking hands, “What did she give her!?” The Liberian was ...stunned to say the least. He was much taller then Sorcha was, stronger too of course, more skilled – but he knew that violence was not the answer here. Violence couldn't only begot more violence...especially against a non-believer. And that fact alone was perhaps his fault and no other, perhaps he had underestimated the girls ever neutral expressions and her intentions. But he knew what he saw in her was genuine. Only a true warrior would walk into a camp of pain and death for the sake of one. And yet....as he looked down upon her he was sorely reminded of another – and that was a thought that disturbed him greatly.

“You wanna see what my sister is like, huh? Gonna be a warrior or some bullshit like that? Is that what she told you? I'll show you how it ends right fucking now!”

That anger in her. He had seen such anger before, sown deep into Vaas himself and when she glared upwards at him like that....it was like an angry snake in the grass – ready to strike for his face just as the tiger had slashed him so many years ago with his claws. He knew then why Vaas was drawn to this one. Her passion rivaled that of his own, she came from the fire and Vaas from the unpredictable tides, two polar opposites that clashed together and created a burning fog. Vaas was a man who enjoyed the thrill of the hunt and a worthy challenge even more so. So very rarely was there someone who could defy his iron clad and escape with their life. This girl had done that, and so much more. Death itself could not even anchor her down into submission. She was truly defiant, and she was more powerful then she realized, and that was was also her greatest flaw. Even if she questioned everything...she still didn't not understand truly her plight, nor the events she had already set into motion, what she had done to Vaas himself. She knew nothing of this island, nothing of the Rakyat nor of the jungle herself. And never would she if she continued to question. That was where she and her friend differed greatly, while Ash might have seemed reckless or naïve she was on her Path, and she would grow stronger through her daring and through her curiosities she would learn quickly. But Sorcha... there was a fire that burned far to hot in her that needed to be doused, for it was the smoke of such flames that stifled her on her path.

“Violence will not wake her. It was not I who forced her to drink.” Dennis replied his tone matter of fact as he stood lax in her grip, earning a vicarious growl from the redhead. “Look at her, she has not passed my friend.” Dennis continued, gesturing to the sleeping girl, “She merely sleeps, she merely dreams of what she must encounter. What she must seek. And what she must change.” He could tell Sorcha didn't understand him, or that she wasn't willing to. But he like Citra could be rather convincing when he needed to he and slowly his lanky fingers brushed against the girls scuffed cheek and instantly she recoiled from the touch....as if the feel of his skin were acid upon her own. A trauma suffered that had grown into a demon. “I understand your wariness. But know that we do not seek to harm you. Your friend will wake...but know this – the choice was always hers.” He paused as the girl retreated back from him slowly as he stepped forward to close the gap, “Just as this choice is only yours to make.” Slowly he had bent down to collect the forgotten vial, holding it tenderly as he stood before her. “What's in it for you?” Sorcha was quiet, but her question powerful and the Liberian only smiled in response.

“Freedom.” He whispered as he turned the vial in his hands and felt it's carvings, a crow had been etched onto it's face. “When you're friend wakes, she will know her Path.” He continued, “It would be a disappointment for her if you did not know yours.” “What is that supposed to mean?” Sorcha questioned, “You are her guide, Sorcha. She looks up to you... shouldn't you know what path to travel when she becomes lost on her own?” Slowly the redhead blinked, a wash of guilt slowly overwhelming her. Somehow this man was right, Ash was like her sister, and sometimes she wasn't the brightest bulb but that was why she was there to screw her back in again. Without her that girl would step on a crocodile or get stuck in a tree. Family was supposed to stick together no matter what and already she had failed that family, she'd abandoned Scha'tzi and that was a sin that none of them would recover from. But she was in no way forgotten and she had to do everything in her power to bring her back home. But how did she expect to do that...if she placed herself on the opposite side of the chess board from the only person who mattered? She didn't like the idea but... family meant everything. And she needed to be there for her family. She had to be there for Ash when she tripped and fell.

“Drink.” Dennis whispered, pushing the vial into her hands again, “You will understand, I promise.” And slowly she drew in another rattling breath that put the Liberian on a slight edge, as if the sound was unnatural in some way as she twisted and pulled the clay cap of the vial. It's good to have friends, but make sure they don't stab you in the back. Still she failed to see the importance of this...but to these people...this tribe it meant something. And maybe it was time to quite being self preserving, and spitting in their faces. The reality was these people had done nothing to harm her...yet she treated them horrible. That was a running theme with her it seemed like...and it left her wondering just what kind of person she really was some nights and when looking down at Ash she felt horrible in her bones. That poor girl deserved none of this torment... yet she couldn't help but feel she'd drug her down with her in some way. And slowly she looked upon the vial. Maybe it would kill her, it was a fifty-fifty chance. And it if did...maybe that was for the best for everyone. And if not yet...what was the harm? Her lips moved wordlessly for a moment, spurning the Liberians already invested interest as she tilted the vial against her lips, cringing against the taste as her throat burned and tightened and her stomach instantly turned, her body refusing the vial liquid but she forced herself to swallow it until not a single drop was left and as she dropped the vial she coughed and heaved as her balance escaped from her and the world slowed down considerably, colors and objects blurring out into mere blobs of an ink painting as Dennis caught her falling form and lowered her to the grass with Ash.

“Well played.” Citra's voice rang out like a smooth siren's song as she approached the three as a slow, graceful pace, “She is quite stubborn is she not?” She paused as she stepped carefully over the unconscious, rather dead looking redhead as her head tilted in curiosity. “Why these two? They are only runaway slaves.” She asked as hands fell to her hips as she glanced over Ash, clearly the more open minded of the two.

- Ash blinked in incomprehension as she accepted the vial from the warrior who offered it, a man that easily dwarfed her in both height and mass. At once her long-held rule of not accepting drinks unless she'd made them herself came to mind, compounded by the way Citra and her warriors stared the two girls down. Without even looking she knew Scorcha would be trying to silently convey to her not to drink, advice that Ash had already thought to follow. Maybe when she got outside she could simply empty it out discreetly at some point, or just toss it vial and all into a patch of brush somewhere... That in mind she met Scorcha's warning gaze with a hint of a nod as she turned to return to Dennis.

"I know, it went badly," Ash sighed in response to the silent amusement on Dennis' face once she'd gotten close enough to speak and keep her voice down. "It could have gone better, yes. But already you have succeeded where others have failed," He pointed out, motioning to the little claw vial that Ash turned over in her fingers absentmindedly. At once her hands stopped as she looked down at the object in question and back up at Dennis, one of her brows rising. "What is it? And how do we know what we're even looking for? Citra didn't say." In response Dennis gave that same gentle smile that he'd given when she'd asked about how the tatau would be filled in, full of knowing but giving nothing away. "To find your answers, you must drink. It is your first step in your Paths." Ash's brows furrowed as she cast her eyes in Scorcha's direction, silently asking her advice on what do do. On one hand, Ash definitely wasn't fond of the order to just blindly down whatever concoction had been given to them. On the other, Dennis seemed to be entirely unconcerned by the mixture. So far they'd been given no reason to distrust him, and considering that he'd gone far out of his way to help it seemed likely he wanted them to succeed for whatever reason. "...Is it safe?" Ash asked finally, meeting Dennis' eyes with concern all but written on her face. "Countless warriors before you have taken the same step. You have both proven you are strong; It will no more affect you than they."

It was probably incredibly stupid. This much Ash knew for a fact even as she lifted the vial up to take a tentative sniff of the liquid, finding that it had a thick scent of some foreign herbs she couldn't even begin to name. It was incredibly stupid to so much as consider it, let alone actually raise the container to her lips. But... So far, she knew that if she and Scorcha were to walk this Path the warriors spoke of then it would enable them to rescue Scha'tzi for certain. This she knew for a fact she had to do, her teeth clenching at just the thought of the still-captive blonde trapped in those prison cells with all those demons and their ringmaster. Twice now she'd abandoned their third living party member to the mercy of monsters. With that in mind Ash lifted a hand that had finally stopped trembling to down the potion before she could lose the spark of nerve her anger had given her.

The taste was as strange and overpowering as the smell, but altogether that seemed to be the worst of it. Ash felt no different than before, and again glanced quizzically at Scorcha. The moment she had met the redhead's eyes, however, her vision began to swim and the very air appeared to shimmer. From somewhere far away it seemed, hands on her shoulders steadied her and led her to sit down before her legs became unable to support her any longer. "What was that?" "Your first step," Dennis' voice answered, for some reason the words not matching up with the movement of the man's mouth as he spoke. "Tell me what you see. I will be here when you wake." As Ash slipped further into the odd swirling mix of colors and light, Dennis straightened back up from the blonde where she'd lain back against the cool grass to chuckle good-naturedly as he adjusted his glasses. Ash taken care of, he cocked his head to one side as he looked meaningfully at the vial in Scorcha's hand. "And you, my friend? Are you not going to seek your Path as well? No one but you can find your own answers. It is the way."

It was all very well to say "Drink me," but the wise little Alice was not going to do that in a hurry. "No, I'll look first," she said, "and see whether it's marked 'poison' or not."

Alice had never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked "poison," it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later. However, this bottle was not marked "poison," so Alice ventured to taste it.

When Ash opened her eyes, she found herself standing in the middle of an achingly familiar dirt road once more. Strangely enough, this time there seemed to be no end to the road in either direction as far as they eye could see. The one thing Ash did notice, however, was a white rabbit standing up ahead staring back at her. As far as rabbits went it was mostly unremarkable except that it looked quite clean with an almost human intelligence to its eyes as it silently regarded the girl before it. After a few moments of staring between rabbit and girl it turned, slipping easily beneath the worn wooden fence slats and bounding off into the lush field. "Wait!" Ash called out after it, for some inexplicable reason finding herself running in the same direction to hop the fence easily and follow the creature. Though the tall grass concealed it from immediate view, the rabbit's movements jostled the plants as it ran and made it easy enough to follow.

At some point the grass abruptly came to an end near the base of a great old apple tree that had been on the farm for as long as she could remember. It had been a favored spot for the sisters to sit for an excuse to be out of the house, and at some point Ash had taken a knife of their father's to carve each of their names into the trunk and frame it with a slightly lopsided heart. This was where the rabbit sat on its hind legs, watching Ash arrive finally with a somehow expectant look to it. Once she'd arrived it darted away again, circling around the tree and disappearing. Upon following Ash found no rabbit, but found where it had vanished to in the form of a den dug out beneath the gnarled roots of the tree beneath the carving. "Now what?" She sighed aloud, kicking at the dirt near her foot with a scowl. Her eyes rose again to the apple tree, coming to rest on the old carving and bringing a faint smile to the blonde's lips as she reached out to run her fingers over the grooves of the names.

A shifting sound from her feet drew her attention away at once, realizing immediately that the source of the noise was the ground around the rabbithole opening up and falling into what looked to be a pit that went on forever. Before she could manage to back away enough the very ground slipped from beneath her feet and dropped her into pitch black, the darkness thick enough that it seemed to just swallow up her scream.

Blackness gave way into cool night air and another familiar sight, though not as welcome of one as before. Still Ash fell through the air, hurtling past a rock face of a cliff and into a ravine she knew well. Somehow she gathered enough sense about her to draw in a deep breath just before she plunged into the rushing water, the sheer cold of it making her lose the air the moment she was submerged. She kicked hard against the pull of the icy water, finally bringing her head above the surface and clawing at the rock nearby to pull herself out onto land. Dimly Ash noted that she was just as dry as when she'd gone in, but forgot about that quickly as a quick observation of her surroundings made her realize she was now standing at the mouth of the cave she and Scorcha had taken refuge in. What should have been dried blood only in certain spots now painted the entire cave floor with a darkly glistening red that retreated around every step she took like oil and soap.

"Ugh..." Though it was a nightmarish sight indeed, a faint light ahead drew Ash's attention away from the floor and instead to the rabbit that waited ahead of her some ways. "You again..." She murmured aloud, to which the rabbit cocked its head as though in answer. Without waiting for it to run off again Ash approached the creature, noting that this time it waited for her to catch up before leading her deeper into the cave. Where she should have felt trepidation Ash felt none even as the light from the mouth of the cave faded away, leaving only a dim source of light on both girl and rabbit, although it was impossible to see where it was coming from. At some point it seemed as though either the cave had ended or it had opened up into a much bigger cavern, but with the inky darkness still veiling the rest of the place from view it was hard to tell which it was.

You gonna pull the trigger? Huh?

At the Spanish-accented voice Ash froze, her head whipping in the direction that it had come from to find Vaas standing to her left. She stopped walking to stare up at the man, brows furrowed in confusion as she realized he wasn't speaking to her, but to the Ash standing over him with a pistol trained on his face. The two were lit up almost as though a spotlight had been pointed at them where their battle had apparently occurred, if their roughed-up states were any indication. Fuckin' DO IT then! What the fuck you so afraid of, huh?! At that Ash's eyes narrowed and her finger moved from the frame of the gun where it had rested to trigger and squeezed, only pausing in the hair's breadth of the pull before the gun would actually fire. Bizarrely this made Vaas grin and raise his hand in a mock image of a gun to point it at Ash, making a clicking sound with his tongue after aiming carefully. You gonna do it or not, chica?

Don't.

At Scorcha's voice both Ash and Vaas turned to look behind her, although no Scorcha was visible anywhere. A split second later and the light simply disappeared as though it had been turned off, leaving behind a wide-eyed and even more confused Ash. "What was that?" She breathed out, regarding the rabbit with a bewildered stare. In response the creature only twitched its nose and hopped forward a pace, thumping its hind leg impatiently when Ash still stood frozen. With one last look at where her image and Vaas had been the blonde made her feet move forward, walking along the path she wasn't sure how she knew to follow.

Welcome back, warrior.

She knew where to look before the images came to light, this time displaying Citra and another image of herself on the right. In her hand Ash again held a weapon, a machete still bearing wet blood from a recent kill. At the sight Citra hummed in approval, not once stopping in her slow, almost lazy circling of the blonde. The slight smile on the woman's face was almost friendly, a stark contrast to the cold stare Ash had seen her giving both her and Scorcha not minutes before. There was no trace of that coldness here, which offhand Ash found to be odd, and yet looking up at herself it almost seemed as if this was the usual way of things.

You have returned victorious. The gods are pleased.

Following Citra's gaze, Ash could see that on her own arm the tatau she'd been given had filled out much more, although the image was curiously hazy around her arm and prevented her from seeing anything more than swirls of brown ink in shapeless lines. Too soon the light was doused before she'd begun to even try and make sense of the strange scene, but curiosity pushed her onward down what she sensed to be nearing the end of the path she was following. With no warning this time another image caught her attention, though it was silent this time as the brief shape of what Ash could see was a man in sunglasses off in the distance, though his image flickered out in a matter of moments before she'd gotten a decent look at him.

Ghali.

At once Ash froze at the sound of that voice and her teeth clenched, eyes finding the next scene playing out right before her. Herself and Hoyt this time, circling one another much like wolves before the clash. Here she almost didn't recognize her own face with the hard, cold stare she wore as she faced down the Kingpin, recognized even less the sudden burst of aggression when she suddenly darted forward at the man with her knife- his knife, technically- slashing forward blindingly fast. Infuriating to both versions of Ash he chuckled even as he was being charged, spurring the Ash fighting him to change her mind in sinking the blade into his shoulder in favor of a swift left hook that she connected with a grin. Almost at once the smile was gone as she was lifted bodily to be slammed down into the top of Hoyt's desk, the knife clattering to the side and quickly forgotten.

That's my good girl.

It was here that Ash had to blink in confusion, her eyes flickering between her own face and Hoyt's. She would have expected to find nothing but animosity or hatred, but everything from body language to facial expressions suggested something on the exact opposite of the emotional spectrum, a notion that made Ash feel sick through and through. This time she was honestly glad when the images went away, and was all too happy to bound up the stone steps that had appeared in order to get away from so much as the same place where she'd witnessed whatever that had been. Torches lined the steps much as they did in Citra's temple, leading up to a platform holding nothing but a huge stone table. In the middle there lay an ancient-looking bow, gorgeously carved with ornate designs but worn from heavy use in a way that didn't actually detract from its beauty.

"I'm looking for a bow...?" Curiosity overwhelming the earlier disgust, Ash reached forward to retrieve the bow to look it over in fascination. Not a moment later, though, several crashes behind her pulled her out of her reverence to realize that the torches had fallen and the fire was quickly and inexplicably spreading over the stone like it was doused in gasoline. In an instant the fire had reached her feet and rose to a roaring blaze to consume her entirely, although there was no pain. If anything being amongst the flames felt natural somehow, like it was meant to be. Of their own accord her eyes closed and the sound of the blaze faded away into the gentle rustle of tree leaves somewhere far above.

When Ash opened her eyes again, she found she was staring up into the dappled sunlight shining through the canopy above the temple. She no longer held the bow in her hands but the image of it stayed with her as clear as day, and with it the knowledge that it was what she was meant to retrieve. Slowly she sat up, the memories of the rest of the insane dream coming back just as clearly whether she wanted to remember it or not. She was supposed to tell Dennis what she had seen, and yet... Already she knew there were parts of it she would keep entirely to herself.

“One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire Cat in a tree. “Which road do I take?” she asked. “Where do you want to go?” was his response. “I don't know,” Alice answered “Then,” said the cat “it doesn't mater.”

The blackness had turned to a white as the cloud receded before her and the rushing wind whip lashed her face. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, a feeling of instability, of a sudden and unexpected lack of ground beneath her back and the harsh push of gravity against her chest as the images of blues and greens and blacks whizzed past the vortex of air. The moon was high in the sky, larger then any moon she had ever seen in her life and red in hue, peppered by a sinking sky of stars that one by one winked to complete blackness. And as the screams began to rise above the rush of wind in her ears Sorcha knew that she was falling and almost out of instinct she flipped herself around in her position, a flurry of black feathers suddenly erupted outward as if jostled free from the bird itself, gasping at the closing image of the island from above as it zoomed closer and closer with each second, cut only by a circular cenote that gazed upwards towards the stars. “Oh no...” Sorcha had gasped as she shifted in her predicament again, grasping for air with her hands as if she would find some invisible wall or net to latch onto and as she waved her arms in front of her she noticed her skin was erected with black barbs but there was so little time to examine them as the island seemed to open it's great maw to swallow her up into it's tree's. She jostled again, one last time, as the pit of the cenote churned a deep blue, waiting expectantly and another flurry of black feathers erupted outwards and her body heaved backwards suddenly and slowed, as if a metaphorical parachute had been erected. And it was not hard to figure out why as her speed was more then half as the thick black feathers erected from her very skin, from the very black barbs, caught within the wind and guided her down into the cenote at a more graceful speed. And as the shimmering waters came close suddenly her wings seemed to fail her as the feathers fell from her skin in an orchestrated tandem and she fell the remaining few feet. But rather then make a splash, as she had been holding her breath for, her feet landed against solid mass as rippled sprang outward from beneath her feet, small and tame tsunamis that disturbed the surface of the pond.

Slowly she exhaled her breath, feeling the coldness of it against her chest as she looked down upon the blue canvas beneath her. She could see fish, the water was so clean and clear, as they swam beneath the surface and sunk down deeper. It wasn't a puddle at all...the water was deep and yet. She took another step forward as another ripple burst outward and in an instant a deep growl erupted, shaking the ground beneath her feet as the water suddenly became a bright golden hue.

Sorcha

Amber eyes snapped upwards as she stumbled to the side as the water seemed to shift, eyes landing upon an old and neglected bridge that had been constructed down the cliff side and into the water. The wood was a sickly pale kind of gray and eaten slowly away by moss. But the source of the voice was a sight for sore eyes as the young, short blonde with blue eyes stood halfway down the wooden construction. “Scha'tzi?” Sorcha asked as the girl gestured for her to follow her as she turned to climb the stairs upwards. Don't disturb him. The girl responded and she did not wait for the redhead to catch up as she hurried across the cenote and leapt up quickly upon the wooden platform. “Wait!” Red called as she scrambled up the stairs in the wake of her lost friend but she did not slow and it felt as if no matter how quickly she climbed the girl was always so far out of reach. And just when it seemed as if she had lost her again the upper threshold of the cenote sprang outward from above the cliff side, revealing the jungle above that was thicker then she remembered it to be. So thick she couldn't see anything other then the foliage save for the extension of the wooden bridge that twisted and turned like a deer trail into the tree's and plants. “Scha'tzi!” Sorcha called, not seeing the girl, and she did not respond ...but the jungle did. Suddenly a hiss rang out amongst the tree's as a chorus of whispered was soon to follow, freezing the survivor in her place as her eyes darted from one end of the path to the other.

Do you think she's a wildflower? She heard something whisper, which only seemed to set off an even more intense conversation on the likelihood of that answer. Are you crazy!? That's lemming talk! Clearly it's a human. Another voice responded with such superiority that it made her sick. “Shut up.” Sorcha snapped, earning a chorus of gasps from the disembodied voices as if her insult was an even greater insult then theirs. How rude! They whispered, each repeating the phrase over and over again as their voices died down slowly and she was left standing in silence. A cold wind brushed against her skin then as the jungle swayed before her, cut only by the wooden bridge indented into the ground. Follow the Path Citra's voice spoke her and she cringed slightly as she drew forward. Each step thumped against the wood that creaked and groaned beneath the weight and shifted in rot. As the path twisted and turned before her the jungle was silent. Keeping her eyes down upon the path the sick gray of the wood suddenly shifted in color only but slightly and she stopped before a single droplet of red, still wet within its grooves. Sorcha wondered if it was paint as her eyes drifted upwards to look down the path laid out before her, another droplet....followed by three more. A puddle of red and the smears of fingers and nails upon the wood as if someone had been wounded and drug off of the path against their will. But drug away by what? The sight was a sickening scene of gore, the blood looked so red ...or was it really that all the other colors had faded instead? And suddenly she heard footsteps behind her, cutting her breath short as slowly she pivoted backwards.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Just like his boots against the shack floor and frozen she stood, looking behind her as the jungle retreated from the dark figure that meandered down the path. She heard the massive black skinned figure breathing, deep and heavy, as gnarled skin glistened with both sweat and blood. The smell of death burned in her nostrils as the massive man stood shadowed at a frightening seven feet tall or so with a body so powerful it looked at if he could tear her in two with only his hands. His face was nothing more then a shadowed mess however.... but as he ducked into view to avoid a low hanging branch she saw the massive bull like horns erect from either side of his head and slowly the beast stopped in his tracks, looking upwards as he smelt the air. A woman. The creature mused, Delicious. Sorcha watched wide eyed as the creature slowly licked its shadowed lips, stomping more into view as he drug behind him a mangled bag of flesh, nerve, and bones and still quietly cried in purest agony. In an instant Sorcha was gone, running down the twisting and turning path that never seemed to end as the man laughed and charged in pursuit. I'll enjoy feasting upon your thighs whore! He bellowed as the ground shook beneath each heavy step in his gait...and he was faster then she'd expected him to be when she glanced back only to find him just a little bit closer then he had been before. Panic had begun to set in as she powered forward as quickly as she could and yet there just was no end in sight and through the tree's she had glanced upon something in the jungle, it could have been a village of some kind. Do not stray from the path, no matter how frightened you become! Citra ordered, “I'll die if I stay here!” Sorcha, Then you must fight!. “I can't....” She whispered as she bolted around the sharp curve of the bridge and gasped in surprised at the sight of another figure as he stepped onto the bridge suddenly in her pathway. With no time to truly react she sudden shifted to try to stop herself...but it was far to late as she struck against his hard chest and stumbled backwards in a daze. I'm coming for you! The Minotaur shouted, so very near as the quiver the wood planks became more and more intense.

Hola, Lolita. The trill of a Spanish accent was all the introduction that he needed as her daze faded and she looked upon him while he stood in the middle of her path with his hand holding tight onto the belts he wore around his chest. Yet he wasn't grinning. Nor glaring. He sounded almost ...sad yet somewhat relieved. Her chest heaved as she stared wide eyed at him, her head snapping to look behind her as the sight of the massive creature came into sight, slowing down to a walk. “Get out of my way!” Sorcha snapped frantically but didn't dare to approach him. And Vaas merely twitched where he stood and tilted his head, “Why Nena? Is this fucker bothering you that much?” He asked curiously, staring intensely at her, “Or because....she told you you to? You know that you'll die if you keep going like this, right?” Sorcha blinked in confusion, turning back again to find the Minotaur closer. “....please?” She whispered finally moving towards the pirate, the lesser of the two evils here. And for a second Vaas seemed to think long and hard while he stared down the Minotaur himself. “No I don't think I will.” He responded, his cheeky grin returning as if he was playing a child's game. Sorcha hissed in response, “Then I will make you move!” “That worked out so well for you the last time.” The man merely chuckled in response, hardly threatened, reviving Sorcha's confused expression once more. Again? What was he talking about? “Listen nena, it's like this ok.” Vaas continued as he took a few steps back upon the path, “It's just like this ok?” He reiterated as he gestured with his index fingers for her to pause in any snide remarks and let him finish talking, “You either go forward. Or you go back. You go forward, you come with me. Or you go back, you go with him.” The pirate jerked his head towards the massive beast that stood patiently on the other side of the path, breathing hungrily whilst it drooled upon itself. “...fuck...” Sorcha whispered as she drew back, looking between the grinning pirate who looked as if he had already won...the proud bastard, and the man like beast behind her who looked at her quite literally as a piece of tender meat. And then she looked into the jungle, spying through the foliage again what looked to be something just beyond the tree line and smelt something sweet in the air. Either way you will die. She told herself, But I have to stay on the path.

Sometimes the rules must be broken The whisper chimed quietly in the back of her mind, It's you or them. Which is more important?[i/] “Be quiet....” Sorcha mumbled, “Tick tock nena...tick tock.” Vaas chided, the frustration evident in his voice. You can't save her on this path.. “You're right.” Sorcha realized, finally something around here made sense. This was a test...this wasn't the only Path. Just because it was the only one built for her it didn't mean that she couldn't make her own. Drawing in another breath she looked back at the pirate one last time as his grin had slowly faded into a more intense kind of interest, as if he was wondering with his very soul what she was thinking at that very moment and she looked at him dead in the eye as she spitefully stepped down off the rotten wooden pathway, as if challenging him to do something about it. But the pirate only smiled again, “That's ok. I'll find you later my puta... ta-ta bye bye.” He waved gently with his fingers, to which he pressed to his lips seconds later and blew her a loving kiss as she glared at him for a moment before stomping into the tree's unhindered.

“Give me my cupcake!” The voice shot out like thunder in this silent jungle as she pushed through the hanging vines and low branches and through the prickly shrubs and frumpy ferns. It was a familiar voice, the voice of her best friend, and it ushered her forward without a second thought as to if she were being followed by either Vaas or that beast on the bridge, rightly it didn't matter either. This was just a dream – she controlled this place. Not them. Or so she thought.

As she emerged forth into the clearing she paused upon the sight of a greatly elongated pool table stretching out far past what was any sort of acceptable length. But when one thought of pool it wasn't exactly unusual to find the pool balls on the table...however in this case...there were no balls but a seemingly endless variety of sweets from Turkish Delight to red velvet cupcakes and for a moment Sorcha wondered if she'd walked into Ash's dreams instead as she spied upon three bodies seated at this table in old wooden chairs that had more or less...been reclaimed by nature themselves. “Gimme!” She heard Ash yell, “I got it first!” Another familiar voice snapped in a boyish, immature tone. His voice was like music to her ears and yet ….it cut her deep when she set her eyes upon him. There Brian sat on the far end of the table, rather he had been seated but had since been yanked up and was practically halfway over the table as he viciously defended his right to the last cupcake left near by he and Ash, who was on his other side. Sorcha admitted...she'd seen much weirder things but as she approached it was as if she wasn't even there and the two fighting couple simply ignored her arrival. Closest her her however sat another man with his head in his hand as he leaned over the table as if seated at the bar after one hell of a bad day. The shimmering bottle of whiskey was clasped in his other hand as the man sat ever so quiet yet clearly at the end of his rope. Sorcha didn't know him....but she felt authority and the power that he held as he sighed like a stressed parent and rubbed his hand over his face whilst he blindly poured himself another shot, which half of ended up on the table when the glass filled up to the brim. Slowly the redhead approached him with a frown and his head perked upwards to find the sound of her foots steps as they crushed the grass. Steel blue eyes found her in seconds and it was like they stared right into her very soul as his handsome yet worn face frowned deeply at her, clearly not happy to see her at all. But Sorcha said nothing to him as he gestured dismissively to the chair set across from him and closest to her. “Sit down.” His voice was gravelly, a harsh accent that sparked familiarity – yet no memories to back it up. But she remembered...it was the voice she'd heard in the jeep. Sorcha, however, did not do as he ordered.

“SIT DOWN!” The man shouted in rage as he produced a long barreled .45 Magnum from somewhere and slammed it down upon the table as a warning. Almost instantly Sorcha found herself in the chair if for no other reason then to not attract attention and as she sat she noticed a silver platter was set upon the table with a single tea cup filled to the half way point with what looked like black ink with a fork and knife placed delicately to the side. Why did you need utensils to for a drink? “Drink your tea.” The man sighed as he gulped his shot and proceeded to chase it with another of equal quantity. And quietly Sorcha sat across from this man, a polite Red Queen, as she wondered just who this man was and why he was even here – what was his significance in all of this. And as the other two continued to argue further down the table Hoyt heaved a deep, irritated sigh. “You've cost me something very dear to my heart girl. Drink. Your. Tea.” He growled again, glaring across the way at her and prying the girls eyes downward into the white porcelain cup. “This isn't tea.” Sorcha commented vaguely.

“THE TEA IS WHATEVER I DECIDE IT IS MALAYA!” Sorcha flinched against the word. Malaya. She knew that word....but she didn't know from where and slowly her jaw tightened, completely unwilling to tolerate being spoken to in such a manner. “No.” She said defiantly and the man across from her grew terribly silent as he leaned back in his chair. The seconds almost felt like hours as the two stared at one another and despite all the bizarre circumstances Sorcha felt like she had stared down this man before...she just didn't remember doing it. “Hoyt?” The redhead asked then and in a split second the man seized up his revolver and her instincts had risen her from the chair as she leapt up upon he table, taking the dining knife with her, as she leapt the distance between she and him before he could stable his aim upon her. And viciously she drove the knife into the side of his neck. But the man did not bleed as she expected...instead he merely crumbled into ashes that were swept away by the breeze. And suddenly she was alone as she discovered, looking down the table to find her friends – only to find them missing...even their chairs. Almost as if they hadn't even existed there in the first place. And as the wind blew a bit stronger as if urging her forward she watched as the jungle seemed to part, offering her a tangled and dark pathway into the tree's from this point on. And sliding down off the table she moved down the silent path.

Use this dagger. She heard the Malaysian beauty from a distance and through the tree's see saw the path open up into a very familiar courtyard. The sun had long sank and the moon had risen in its bloodshed glory as the torch light cast a cozy orange glow across the walls as the shadows of the Rakyat danced against them of their own accords. The warriors stood proud;y at attention as they formed two lines leading up the stairs to where the dark haired jungle beauty stepped silently towards her very friend, in her hands she offered the little blonde a barbaric device carved out of bone and finely etched. He must die by your hands and receive his power as your own.. “Ash?” Sorcha called, yet her voice was mute as she walked across the courtyard and skipped up the stairs to witness the scene that played out before her as Citra slowly turned to lay her green eyed stare upon her momentarily, tiling her head in subtle surprise to see her. And silently Sorcha watched as Ash frowned, taking the offered dagger and turning to face a beast of a man who stood four times taller then see with long, lustrous, dark hair and handsome exotic features. Kill him. Citra ordered darkly, hands set upon her hips as Ash approached the man. “Why? What has he done to deserve this?” The word's left her mouth sharply, against her will as the jungle priestess turned to value her. “He must. So that she may progress.” Citra replied knowingly, as if expecting her to agree with her but Sorcha felt a tight turn in her stomach as she grit her teeth together. “This isn't progress this is murder!” Sorcha defended as she moved to stop Ash only for powerful hands to snatch her back. “Ash! No!” Sorcha commanded...but Ash didn't even seem to hear her as she came to stand before the man, holding the bone dagger tight to her chest. Sorcha's lips parted in shock as the man bowed his head and dropped down to bended knee, reaching out with a tenderness that seemed so counter to his fierce and powerful appearance to grasp her wrists and lift the blade of the dagger to his jugular.

I'm so sorry.

She heard Ash whisper as tears brimmed in her eyes and the man only smiled in response. The scene was short lived when the dagger glided cleanly across his throat, a sea of red pouring from him as his smile faded and gasped and garbled for air that simply didn't see them fill his lungs as he sunk slowly down to the broken and disheveled stones, his blood filling the cracks and oozing down the stairs like some sick Mayan sacrifice. There they all stood....watching at his man died a slow death at the hands of the one person that Sorcha counted on to make better decisions then this...and when the girl turned to face the smiling Citra – Sorcha wasn't so sure that she recognized who she was anymore as the warriors released her. You have done well. The Gods are pleased. The dark priestess mused, circling around her prey as she trailed her finger along the distance of Ash's shoulders as the blonde looked her way...for some sort of approval. “....why would you do that?” Was all Sorcha could say, bewildered by this brutality...from her sister no less. And then Citra was before her and it was like no one else existed as she motioned for her to follow her as she began to move up the steps to the dais and reluctantly Sorcha followed her as, leaving Ash behind as Citra commanded her too.

Beyond the dais was a cliff face with jagged edges that dropped down steeply into the ocean in the throws of a spring tide as it lashed out against the island with all the anger of nature. The dais was empty tonight, just a simple slab of stone set down on top of more stones, a primitive design despite its importance to the functions of the temple. You are displease. Citra stated, gesturing for Sorcha to sit down beside a collection of bowls laid out at the threshold of the dais, Citra's only little collection of medicines and mixtures both toxin and deadly. “That man did not deserve to die.” Sorcha replied harshly and Citra frowned slowly as her brows knit together, reaching out suddenly to take her arm as her hand slid weakly down to the foreigners wrist. You do not understand because Vaas robbed you of your Right. The jungle priestess replied, truly somber in her words as she led the girl to sit down with her back facing that of the cliff face. “Vaas has nothing to do with it.” Citra merely chuckled, shaking her heard slowly, He is the source of your suffering my Phoenix. Everything he does is designed to disarm you. He seeks to lure you away from us, from Ashley. He wishes to consume you. Citra explained slowly, hauntingly as she rested her hand upon Sorcha's knee lovingly. Sorcha couldn't bring herself to utter her reply, in the very pit of her stomach she wanted to believe in Citra and yet... she just couldn't. There was something so very evil inside of her and it was hard to ignore such a feeling. And in her silence Citra seemed to straighten when the girl looked slowly up from having bowed her head. I had hoped I could save you from his taint. I know it must have been difficult for you...to live after all that he has done to you... There was something deadly in her tone, a similar tone in which Vaas had taken with her once before and slowly she tilted her head in curiosity. “What do you mean?” But Citra merely shook her head, not in sympathy, but in disgust as she dipped her fingers into one of the clay bowls. It pains me to watch you wither away. You were so full of life and potential. And Citra turned to face her, sidling forward across the rocks as she lifted her blackened fingers from the bowl, the oil oozed across her bronzed skin like tar as she reached forward and painted black line from artery to artery. The touch of her fingers was so cold as the oil spread across her skin in a thick red, instead of black as it dribbled down her neck as Sorcha blinked, looking as if she'd been mortally wounded yet had somehow not even realized it. Let me help you... Citra whispered, setting the bowl aside as she leaned forward, close to her face to claim her lips with a passion that was not reciprocated by the redhead, who had been momentarily entranced by the jungle beauty... yet lost in a deep and carnal thought of her own as her head lulled to the side, a thought that hadn't cast Citra as the lead. And when the girl realized what was happening and broke free of her momentary stupor she turned her head away coldly. “Don't ever do that again.” Sorcha warned, glaring sidelong at the stone impressions of the temple as she drew quickly up to her feet, followed swiftly by the Rakyat queen.

You were thinking about him weren't you? Citra questioned darkly, that fake admiration all but completely vanished as Sorcha turned that glare back upon her. “That ain't none of your concern is it?” Sorcha snapped, hissing as she drew breathe and Citra's frowned deepened and she stared at her unblinking. “Why is it your concern?” Sorcha asked carefully, realizing that Citra wasn't about to leave without an answer. And suddenly she felt very unsafe and vulnerable. She wanted to run but to where she didn't know, run anywhere, run away. But she couldn't just leave Ash behind like that.

Because I care. Citra replied, yet her voice had distorted, deeper even...almost demonic. “No you don't...” Sorcha countered as she took a careless step backwards, “You're afraid he's going to win.” Her voice was a mere tremble, “You're going to kill me...because he wants me...aren't you?” The question came out even quieter still and slowly Citra's head dropped forward slightly. Yes. She replied coldly and in an instant she felt her breath catch in her chest...as if cord had been wrapped around her throat as it burned like swallowed acid. She coughed and gagged as her digits coiled around her throat, blood rushing through the cracks of her skin as her eyes began to sting and the taste of metal was overwhelming in her mouth. In pain her eyes snapped shut as red tears steamed down her face and in an instant she felt someone's hands shove against her shoulders and the grip of land slip form beneath her feet as the uplift of air rushed against her back. And when she opened her eyes it was only the one person she cared for that stood on the cliff's edge, slowly sinking away from her as she fell towards the abyss of the island as the world turned black.

She hit the ground with a sickening thud that bounced her up from through ground briefly. The sudden strike of pain tearing through her body as she gasped the breath that had been stolen from her finally, bringing relief to her strangled lungs as she was throw onto abdomen, coughing and heaving upon the rough jungle ground as she looked back upwards, peering through the black silhouettes of the forest and into the churning midnight blue sky above...but the moon had gone. Where the light was coming from now was anyone's guess, everywhere and nowhere all at once. Her mind was racked with confusion and fear that showed in the way she looked at her surroundings as if almost unable to process them in the wake of this continuing nightmare. “....when will this end...” She whispered, cringing as she dug her knee's into the ground and pulled herself back onto her feet, fingers gliding over her neck briefly, only to find her own smooth skin there. No oil...no wound. As she rose however her next challenge was waiting for her, in the shape of an illuminated wrought iron gate – the kind that looked exactly like the gate to the cemetery where her father's casket had been buried without his body in it and a large, ratchet looking sign made of rusted shrapnel sheets and crudely spray painted in red' DEAD END'. In an instant she was reminded of her father's voice and the last thing he had ever said to her so many years ago...how distant those words sounded now. And even more impossible the task felt. How did she stop something that she rightly didn't understand?

Such a beautiful conundrum. She heard her own voice speaking to her, clear as day as her eyes snapped to the vine eroded brick pillar where a spitting image of herself stood, leaned lazily against the foliage, idly digging into a bag of chips held protectively to her chest. Blinking Sorcha just couldn't find her words as she stared in a bewilderment at her twin, who for all intents and purposes looked far more wild eyed then she remembered herself looking and her doppelganger merely paused, mouth open, in the middle of placing a chip into her mouth...as if caught with a metaphorical hand in the cookie jar before she glanced down at the bag in her arms. Vinegar chips. You want any? She asked and Sorcha almost scoffed, looking at the sign – it's author was quite obvious...and she found herself looking for him with her eyes. He had to be here somewhere....what other point could there had been to this? “I don't even like vinegar. Much less chips that taste like it.” Sorcha rebuffed, ignoring her other self as she moved towards the over grown gate, reaching out to tug at its black bars and claw at the vines to try to peer through them to see the other side. Says dead end. Her doppelganger stated with a simple shrug, chewing loudly on another chip.

“This makes no sense!” Sorcha commented, stepping back after the second attempt to jar open the gate was met with sturdy force. What do you mean? It makes perfect sense, can't you read the sign? The twin replied quickly, pointing to the clearly obvious sign as if it were law, earning a sneer from her better half. “This is my path. How can it lead to a dead end?” Sorcha replied, a hint of annoyance in her voice, “This is another test...” She added, mumbling to herself as her cast her eyes downward. Maybe it's not your path. She replied quietly, bringing her good half's attention solely onto her as she lifted her brows, shrugged, and held the bag out to her.

Chips.

“I said I don’t LIKE vinegar chips.” Sorcha growled, and slowly her doppelganger seemed to tense against the wall. Yes. You. Do. Came her vicious reply in the quietest of whispers and Sorcha suddenly realized who she was...she knew that voice...she'd been hearing it since she-

“Chips have nothing to do with this.” Sorcha stated and the doppelganger sighed in frustration as she threw the bag away to be swallowed up by the darkness. I am disappointed in you. You should have taken a chip but no...you're too busy lying to yourself. Her twin stated, rising from the wall to take a bold step towards her, Sorcha drew back two steps in response. “Get back -” Or what? Her twin questioned dangerously, suddenly lunging forward and in just two steps stood face to face with her other half. It was then Sorcha realized that the girls eyes were completely black and the putrid smell of death reeked from her and as her dry tongue glided over her lips, the skin peeled sickeningly. “You can't hurt me.” Sorcha whispered finally, almost hatefully as she searched those hollow eyes for any hint of emotion in the blackness and there was a moment of pause.

You're going to regret this The darker redhead hissed, swaying like a snake before her. “Regret what?” Sorcha questioned cautiously and slowly her evil twin had begun to smile...a smile that twisted into an expression of rage as she screamed suddenly. The wrath of her tone burst in her ears as Sorcha had begun to recoil as the girl reached out, talon like nails digging into her shoulders as her twin suddenly burst into a murky and grotesque cloud of blood, bones, and other fluids that painted her entire body red. Gasping outwards Sorcha drew back in shock, the blood of her own sliding down her skin as she stood gaping at the settling cloud of black feathers, sharp against the darkness somehow as the silence returned. And trembling she lifted her red dripping hands, her vision swimming as her stomach turned – threatening sickness. He's inside you~ Her twin whispered to her from some deep dark corner of her mind as fire ignited suddenly in the darkness from high standing torches that one by one each lit up of their own accord, illuminating the stone arena around her, Citra's Temple. And blinking still in shock Sorcha turned slowly in disgust to face towering stairs and majestic architecture as the clouds swirled just beyond. And from that cloud a creature suddenly rose, a great and powerful beast of black skin and a red painted face, etched with Maori and two burning yellow eyes. Frozen she watched as the creature climbed upwards over the temple, looking at her below in silence before it lunged downward, it's maw wide and armed with sharp teeth. Sorcha's eyes had snapped closed when the creature lunged towards her, every inch of her waiting to feel the crush of those teeth against her body when suddenly the jingle of a distant wind chime drew her attention.

Blinking awake there was grain against her eyes as she peered upwards at the hanging paper stars and a stuffed unicorn that had been poorly taped to the ceiling, which was painted a girlish shade of purple...but looked more pink then anything else. It even smelt girly as she blinked again slowly turning her heard towards the sudden glimpse of movement as a figure leaned downward next to the tiny bed where she had been placed. She felt dizzy and weak...as if her strength had been stolen out of her very body as the image of the shaven, hazel eyed, pirate lowered down into view.

Bad trip? He asked of her quietly as he reached downward to comb his taped fingers through her hair. Instantly she slapped away his touch as she scrambled up, kicking against the girlish blanket as the pirate king merely sneered at her from his knelt position. “Get away from me...” Sorcha warned and Vaas stared at her intensely for a moment before a serrated grin crossed his lips. That's not what you said last night chica. Sorcha felt what color she might have had drain from her face as her blood ran cold, and Vaas giggled quietly as he rose up to his feet again. Ok then. He started, cupping his own chin, Fly away Starling... He whispered, Go. Fly He had almost laughed again as he waved towards the open door to the room that seemed to lead to a downstairs. Sorcha didn't need to be told twice as she practically flew up from the bed and turned the corner just as quickly, emerging out into a second story hallway. But when one thought of a second story hallway they would have expected such a thing to be inside a house...this one however was not. As she came to realize by the sudden and drastic drop in temperature and the shimmering rock walls. “A cave?” She asked, turning around to address the lurking pirate ...only the find the door had disappeared already and him with it.

A hiss was her reply, from the dark depths at the bottom of the lacquer stair case that would have led downward to the first story of the house and slowly the warrior turned, stepping carefully down the moistened steps and down into the mouth of the cave. Walking forward there was but one pathway, and a narrowing one that forced her to crouch down and sidle through as an object awaited her at the end, glowing in the darkness. And as she drew closer so did the hissing become more and more vicious, almost like a threatened rattler snake only...without the rattle. And as the small tunnel opened up into a separate cavern she came to stand before the stone pedestal left forgotten in this place and the sight of a black little animal, coiled tightly around something left behind. And when she approached the snake snapped upwards instantly, ready to struck at her as it stared at her with beady black eyes...and yet Sorcha felt no apprehension towards this beast. For she remembered it quite well, and despite the way it presented itself towards her...she knew that it would not harm her. It was this creature that had one before saved her very life. And reaching out slowly she never once blinked and after a moments paused the creature slithered forward, coiling slowly around her arm as she lifted it from the object that it had been protecting...an intricate and primitive weapon carved out of wood and smooth stone, its long shafted handle was fitted with a fang at the end for piercing and bound with leather twine, while the head of the weapon was made with stone and sharpened delicately.

“Tomahawk?” She asked the black creature she held upon her arm as she reached down to grasp the object. And all at once the sun was blinding in her eyes as she rose up from the grass slowly, blinking against the feeling of sickness and shaking her heard against the drug induced grog.

"Thank you. Stubborn, yes." Dennis chuckled, bending to retrieve his glasses and glancing from Citra to the sleeping redhead. That much was absolutely true of Scorcha, it showed in every aspect of her every action. Always questioning, always looking with such suspicion no matter what was placed before her. The problem with that, however... Was that her stubbornness was so reminiscent of another Dennis knew, the one who had sunk his claws into Scorcha already. With guidance she would be able to free herself of Vaas' influence though, that he was sure of. "But she can still be helped. There is much potential in her to be brought out, and she has started her Path."

Only runaway slaves.

Hardly so, and this Dennis knew for a fact. It was a scene that had played out literally thousands of times now- scores of people brought in by whatever Spotter they'd been unlucky enough to happen upon. They were captured, sorted through like the product they would become and the ones deemed undesirable were disposed of accordingly. The ones that lived often thought themselves to be more fortunate until it came to light what would happen to them. Most people withdrew into themselves as if they thought they could escape the reality by pretending hard enough, and those were the ones to be sold off the quickest. A fair few did try to fight, but fewer still managed to get away. They were never able to stay hidden long even with the rarely-offered help of the Rakyat, the escapees, and for their troubles they were either shot and killed... Or worse, brought back alive.

Whatever fate befell those people, both of the girls laid out on the grass before he and Citra had managed to avoid those dangers. For the most part, anyway, Dennis thought with a glance at the healing bullet wound on Scorcha's chest and the various bruises and scrapes Ash carried. That was what made the two special- the two different kinds of fire in them made them act so differently than the average man, made them fight hard enough to break free rather than simply accept their fate. It was ultimately what brought them here in the first place, their will to survive had driven them forward through the horrors set in their way by Vaas and Hoyt respectively. In their own ways, both Scorcha and Ash had already proven their worth in how they'd fought to escape their prisons.

"They are more than that," He replied with a shake of his head. "I found Scorcha slain by the Tyrant himself, but when I reached her she was alive. His bullet missed her heart, just barely. She has come back from the land of the dead. She went forward still to rescue one from the slave camp." At this he motioned toward Ash, who had begun to stir slightly in her sleep but stayed tight in the dream's hold. "Hoyt took her to the South Island for five days. Then he sent her back here to be dealt with. I have heard that many of his men wear wounds she gave them," Dennis added with a hint of a smile as he finished clearing the dust from the lenses and replaced his glasses on his face. "How many have come back from the dead to keep fighting? And how many fought the Tyrant until he could no longer control them?"

"Ugh..." Blinking against the canopy-filtered sunlight, Ash raised a hand to rub at her eyes as she pushed herself into a sitting position as her vision finally began returning to normal. True to his word, soft footsteps in the grass alerted her to Dennis' presence when she looked up to see him sitting down between her and Scorcha. "So, what did you see?"

Ash hesitated before answering, chewing her lower lip in thought as she idly ran her fingers through the lush grass. The images all still burned as clearly as reality itself in her mind, some of which she'd preferred to have forgotten. How did she even go about explaining that last part of the vision to Dennis without sounding as though she had some serious issues in her head? More than anything it was that vision of Hoyt that disturbed her so much, how once the animosity had faded away they'd seemed almost contented, or- Stop. She scolded herself mentally, realizing she'd still been sitting there quietly after Dennis had asked her a question. "Sorry. Just got lost in thought. Um... I saw myself with a gun on Vaas. And then I was talking to Citra. I fought Hoyt... But I didn't see who won." She paused here, ultimately deciding she would in fact keep the rest to herself. "And what else did you find?" "I found this bow. It was really old and I don't know what it was made of but it was really ornate."

To her vague surprise Dennis nodded as though he knew exactly what she was talking about, and surprised her more by reaching over to a dirt patch to trace a crude shape of the bow in Ash's dream. "Yeah, like that. How'd you know?" "It is the bow of a great warrior from long ago. But, it was stolen from one of our temples by pirates. Where they have taken it I do not know." Ash sighed heavily, pulling up one of the blades of grass to twirl idly in her fingers. "So that's what I have to find? The bow? But- Where do I even start?" "Follow your instincts." With a sage nod Dennis turned to look over the awakening Scorcha, greeting her return to consciousness with a smile. "Welcome back. I had almost forgotten what you looked like awake. What did you see on your path?"

Citra was quiet, calculated, as she glanced sidelong to her faithful right hand man. Dennis was her eyes and ears upon this island, her guard dog – much as Vaas was Hoyt's. There was nothing that Citra did not know that happened upon her Island that Dennis himself had not disclosed to her and there was little doubt that if it came down to it – he would give his life for her's in an instant. And even though countless men and women had come to this island before, their presence did not go unnoticed. It did not go unnoticed that the Astrid made bi-weekly appearances on their horizon, it did not go unnoticed that the cargo plane reared its head even more often. The entire operation that was to be called Hoyt's was always well watched by the Rakyat, they knew the Tyrants patterns and they knew his routes. They knew who to expect where and when and what patrol was traveling the roadways. They knew that The Cannibal received a portion of those unfit for slavery to is modest little island just off the furthest reach of the archipelago and they knew that the South Island was both a fortress and a prison. And they knew that this island, Guanyin, was the killing ground. Lorded over by a demon fallen to earth. There was no mistaking that Vaas ruled over them all...but only those that allowed him to. Her people, the Rakyat, they has fought him from the very beginning every single step of the way to their very last breathes and they would continue to do so until Hoyt Volker's head was laid at her feet.

The Astrid's purpose here was to deliver supplies and smuggle weapons and product to and from the island. And with each new supply order so came a new set of slaves. And among those slaves Dennis was convinced there hid two titan's worthy to be called warriors. Yet these half eaten animals at her feet looked anything but twigs that would break in the first gut of harsh breath from The Giant's flaring nostrils. When he spoke highly of them Citra was questioning his words as she tilted her head, stepping slowly around Sorcha as the huffed in her sleep, sweat moistening her skin. Citra wondered what sort of demons she was repelling in her dreams whilst she knelt down to tangle her fingers through that strange colored hair of her's again and to gaze just a little closer at the horrid wound laid in her chest. Come back from the land of the dead indeed. Citra knew a fatal wound when she saw one but this one...it was more then just fatal. It should have taken her life...regardless if the bullet had struck into her heart yet there she laid – alive? A true feat of strength perhaps, or divine intervention...a miracle, call it what you will but Citra saw something in this one that left her hackles raised. There was a blazing fire in this one. A fire so hot that it had burned death itself. What laid before her was anything but human. And slowly her eyes turned towards the little blond, so sound in her dreams not far away. “Believe what you will, cinta, this one is cursed.” Citra replied mysteriously as she rose from Sorcha's side to glide instead to Ash's, “But this one. This one is truly powerful.” And powerful she was. From the moment Citra had met eyes with this one, she felt her strength...her resolve, her desires to become more then just this girl that society had forced her to grow into. In Ash there was a passion...not much indifferent to her own. A passion that Citra respected and worshiped above all else. The Gods truly favored this one, more then once they had stepped in to protect this one from the very same darkness that infected the other. In this girl Citra saw all the tools needed to craft a great and powerful warrioress, the stubbornness of a boar, and the fleet of foot of a rabbit, the determination and the capacity to learn the skills that she would need to face down enemies like Vaas and Hoyt, their armies, and many other fatal encounters found upon this island and others. And when the girl groaned in waking Citra canted her head to the side, looking down upon the sleeping American neutrally. And it was Ash's sudden silence towards Dennis that piqued the Rakyat queen's undivided interest. Even without words....her eyes told her a great and many things. They reflected how the girl felt at that very moment, disgusted and confused, as if she didn't understand something within her visions – but such a thing was only natural as slowly Citra stepped into her view to stand beside Dennis as the girl recited her Path before them in the simplest of details. Citra already knew what laid at the end of this girls Path, an item that had been stolen... and when the girl spoke of it she lifted her head with the tiniest of smirks. Only a true warrior would have found the subject in question upon their Path, and the details of the bow only drove the fact further home. Citra's undying perception had been correct. Ash was in fact a warrior, not just some simple slave with luck on her side when it mattered.

“They say that the Goddess granted the bow to a promising warrior and only a heart of courage could string such a weapon. And long ago, the Great Warrior, used this bow to fell a great and ancient evil that had risen from the land of the dead.” Citra stated mystically, as she turned slowly to spy Sorcha as she began to move a little more deliberately, rather then merely twitching in her sleep. “And should a heart of greed ever try to wield such a weapon that the bow string would cut clean through their fingers. The pirates have insulted the Ancestors by taking it, their spirits are...” Citra had trailed off as Sorcha's eyes opened and her chest heaved upwards as if she'd stopped breathing for a moment.

“Restless.”

It was the sound of her voice that had drawn the attention of the redhead as her eyes snapped to the side to settle upon the tribal witch that stood at Dennis' back for a moment, sharing a tense stare with her before she adverted her eyes to blink groggily upward into the blue sky and the swaying branches of the great tree, realizing it was perhaps the biggest tree she had ever seen yet. The images were still fresh in her mind as they moved and looped and reeled in her consciousness but what stuck in her like rusted barbs was the image of that closed iron gate and the black eyes of her twin boring holes into her soul. “...dead end...” Her lips worded silently as the Liberian addressed her warmly. “Maybe if things were different I would find it cute that you watched me sleep...” Sorcha replied just as quietly as the whisper of the breeze through the branches as her eyes glided downward from the cheery sky to spy upon his large eyes through his spectacles eerily. It didn't go unnoticed that the girl looked positively lost again as she had before when confronted with the name of the Tyrant himself. And she too feel just as dead silent when faced with the question of what she'd seen, a deep frown upon her chapped lips.

“The land of the living must look very strange to you now.”Citra started as she stepped closer and the redhead glanced sidelong at her, Citra's only warning to stay away. She knew this girl didn't trust her...or anyone for that matter – not even herself. But if Citra was anything...it was fearless. Just like her brother and she toed her boundaries as she knelt down beside the girl and Dennis, “This feeling will pass only if you allow yourself to accept it. Now, tell me what you saw.” The tribal priestess commanded with a low, saucy tone.

“I saw a demon....with yellow eyes and red mask on his face.” Sorcha began slowly as she pushed herself to sit, maybe Citra was right, she had to accept what had happened if she was to pull herself from the quicksand of misery and death...but it was so hard to accept something that she had no memory of. “There was a bloody path through the jungle.... Vaas and a minotaur. I saw Scha'tzi but...I couldn't keep up with her, she disappeared. And a man with a gun ...telling me to drink poisoned tea...” Sorcha hissed slightly as a pain stung in her chest and her fingers glided slowly over the open wound, a dull and grim realization that two and two coincided just a little to conveniently to be coincidence. But...hadn't Dennis told her that Vaas had shot her? Blinking slowly she paused as she looked at the dark skinned man again and Citra seemed to frown in concern. “A minotaur?” She questioned and slowly Sorcha nodded, pulled back from her suspicions of Dennis, “I didn't see his face...but he...” She trailed off, drawing in a breath, “He wanted to eat me.”

“What else did you find?” Citra questioned intensely, glancing towards Dennis again.

“A tomahawk.....and a black snake.” Was Sorcha's only reply. “I see.” Citra whispered quietly as the redhead grew a distant look once again.

- Always one to have faith in someone who'd proven they were worthy of it, rather than just assuming the worst... Even Dennis had to admit that was a dark omen, to have seen the Cannibal on one's path. There were no other men that Sorcha's minotaur could be save for him, and for that Dennis truly did commiserate with the girl. For his victims it spelled certain death only after Lupo had finished doing far worse already, his work was well known to all on the islands but never spoken of as though doing so would bring the man himself from his little hideaway. Cursed indeed to be destined to face such an enemy as him... Without looking Dennis knew Citra would have recognized the symbolism of the monster, his assumption proven correct by the woman asking of the aforementioned beast. Still saying nothing of this he turned his eyes to Citra, finding that she too hard turned to look at him as if to silently confirm her declaration of the redhead's curse. The one small saving grace, he supposed, was that given enough effort a curse could be broken if one was willing to fight for it.

A tomahawk and a black snake. The dark omens just kept piling up toward the end of Sorcha's Path it seemed. Finally he spoke up, clearing his throat momentarily before continuing. "I know this weapon also. It was said that a warrior famous for his strength turned the tide of a great battle with nothing more than his axe. When he finally fell, his fellow men buried the tomahawk with him. Last I knew it was stolen from his tomb." What he neglected to mention for the time being, however, was how the warrior had fallen. It was true he'd cut through an entire army of his enemies and single-handedly decided the outcome of the war... But in the aftermath of the battle, he had lost his ability to distinguish friend from foe and begun cutting down those he'd called brothers when they approached him. It was only through the actions of a skilled archer that shot the mad warrior through the heart to bring him down, and his tomahawk had been buried with him as the blade carried the blood of both enemy and friend alike.

But the last thing Sorcha needed was even more darkness to contend with, and with that in mind Dennis chose to keep the rest of the story to himself as he rose from the grass. "Then these weapons are what you must find. Bring them back, and you will have completed your first task," He stated warmly, offering a hand to both girls to help them to their feet again. "Just let your instincts guide you, and your weapons will reveal themselves to you." He paused to cast another glance at Citra, saying without words Wait and see. If he hadn't believed wholeheartedly in their capabilities, neither of the two would have been brought this far at all. But one didn't simply rise from the dead of their own accord... There was a purpose in being given the gift of a second chance at life as Sorcha had.

Find the weapons and bring them back. That wasn't so hard, right? Still... It hadn't gone unnoticed to Ash the way Dennis and Citra had exchanged glances with one another, as though communicating their discomfort with something without words. What exactly that something was, though, the blonde couldn't quite put her finger on. It was some detail in Sorcha's Path, that much she was sure of. It wasn't as though she really had room to talk; she could only imagine just what the two would think if Ash had disclosed dream-Sorcha telling her not to shoot Vaas, or God forbid if she chose to share the oddly intimate ending to her clash with the Kingpin. Seems like there's a lot here going unsaid, she mused silently, but took the offering of help from Dennis anyway. "Alright. But what about Vaas...? He's got to still be out there looking for us." At this Dennis paused in thought for a moment until an idea seemed to occur to him, taking away the discontent from his expression as quickly as it had shown. "You could go to Dr. Earnhardt's. He will be more than happy to help you. His house is to the west, on top of the cliff. You could not miss it if you tried," He added in a short chuckle, motioning for the girls to begin following him back to the temple gates.

Though she'd known they would have to leave the temple eventually, the thought still brought a wave of apprehension at the knowledge that Vaas and his men were of course out beyond the safety of the temple. They had to be. Even with this safehouse Dennis spoke of, they would still have to evade Vaas first before they could get there and that worried Ash to no end. So far she hadn't doubted they'd been lucky to slip out of his grasp even once, but this just seemed as though she and Sorcha were just taunting fate now. Before the three had begun to descend the steps leading down to the heavy stone door, a hand on Ash's shoulder made her stop to look up into the concerned face of Dennis again as he'd looked her over. "It is unwise to leave this temple unarmed." Before Ash could formulate a response the Liberian held up one hand in a gesture to wait before heading off the the right of the courtyard, approaching a pair of massively built men standing where they oversaw two other Rakyat men practicing with the machetes they wielded. Both stood at no less than 6 feet tall with long dark hair, their faces similar enough to each others that they had to have been brothers. Though they were just out of earshot, it wasn't hard to guess what had been said when the slightly shorter of the two handed Dennis the AK-47 that had been hanging off of one of his broad shoulders.

Rifle in hand now, Dennis was quick to rejoin the two Americans and pass the rifle into Ash's hands before leading them onwards again. Thank you, She mouthed in the direction of the man whose gun she now held and descended the stairs after Dennis to listen in on the man's advice. "Now, if you stay in the trees, it will be much simpler to avoid Vaas and his men. They patrol the main roads and make them unsafe for anyone to travel, but they very rarely go into the jungle itself without reason. Too many have been taken by her in the past. Go quickly and stay quiet, and you may be able to make it to the doctor without much trouble. Are you ready?" He paused in pushing open the temple doors, looking over Sorcha and Ash in honest concern. These were dangerous foes the two were being sent out to face and he knew it, but they had their Paths, he reminded himself. "You have a much better chance than most. What is it you Americans say, that two heads are better than one?" With that Dennis finally pushed the heavy door open, scanning the land around the temple for any sign of red shirts. Finding none, he motioned for the girls to come forward from the gate and out into the open again, walking them as far as the Jeep he'd driven them in.

"Head back toward Amanaki, and from there the doctor will be close by," Dennis advised, motioning in the direction they'd come from and offering another one of his gentle smiles. Ash only nodded in response, staring out at the terrain around them as if expecting Vaas himself to come popping out of the bushes to frighten her again. She barely even noticed when Dennis finally left them to retreat to the temple again, though the grating sound of the doors closing again... That was one of the loudest sounds ever to her ears. Head west to Amanaki, can't miss this doctor's house on the cliffs... Okay. "Alright..." She sighed aloud, only sheer will making her move her feet forward again to carry her away from the temple. "If this guy's a doctor, at least we'll be able to get something to help keep that clean." She nodded toward the wound on Sorcha's chest, as an afterthought speaking up again as another need came to mind. "And maybe get something to eat. I don't even remember when I actually had anything."

To say the very least, Vaas was pretty fucking irritated. An hour now of scouring the jungle from every last little hiding spot and still no sign of either escapee anywhere. And Benny... While Benny was by far one of his more competent men, even that didn't help Vaas' mood much with how obviously he didn't want to be out here searching. But the girls had to be out this way. One of the things that had made Vaas such a formidable warrior was nothing more than his instincts. Pure animal instinct that more often than not led him in exactly the right direction like a dog with a scent in its nose, a skill that had in no way been dulled even with years of heavy cocaine use that should have quite literally eaten holes into a normal man's brain. But instinct told him that Red and Blondie would have been with Citra... And so here Vaas was, out in the jungle fighting nothing but bugs off his skin, and still no sign of either girl. It was beginning to grate heavily at his nerves, just the thought of having possibly been wrong this one time. How the both of them might have been able to just up and slip away right beneath his nose without him even noticing.

He wasn't wrong, though. Those same instincts that so often told him when something was amiss rose his hackles where he'd seated himself atop a boulder to use it as a makeshift lookout point. "Benny." When simply calling the American's name didn't get the immediate result he wanted he gave a low whistle, inclining his head in the vague direction of where Vaas knew the temple was. "You know what bitch smells like, Benny? I do, and I smell it now. Let the boys know to get their asses moving, I don't wanna have to wait fucking forever on them to get out here when he need them." With an energy that seemed to have come out of nowhere he slid down off the rock to land on his feet and snatch up his rifle in one smooth movement, in a flash all hunter again as opposed to bored child he'd been just seconds before. Without waiting to see if Benny could keep up Vaas started off at an effortless loping stride, knowing the way to his sister's lair by heart. Even from where he'd begun at about the midway point between outpost and temple, it took him barely even ten minutes to reach the main road laid out before the place.

For now Vaas paid it no mind, his eyes too busy scanning the dusty path to find two pairs of footprints left behind by scared little escapees. He found them almost at once, leading off from the road into the treeline. Again he whistled sharply, this time simply to alert Benny of his position before he took off into the jungle again, all the while scanning the ground to find evidence of unskilled feet having tread there. The signs were subtle, but definitely present- a snapped branch here, a crushed plant there, tamped down grass in one spot where they'd stood for a few moments... They weren't too far off if he was finding the grass still crushed. "FALIIIINE!" Vaas shouted, his voice carrying through the quiet and startling several birds' songs quiet. "THUUUMPER! Where the fuck you at, huh?! Ronno came to play!" No doubt they'd hear him loud and clear, wherever they'd chosen to hide... Which was fine by him at the end of the day. He'd always been one to enjoy the simpler things in life, such as a good hunt or a game of hide and seek with someone that desperately wanted to not be found.

Things go missing a lot around here. Sorcha thought as her eyes passed over Ash momentarily, finding some small comfort in seeing her awake – but the adult in her wanted to smack her upside her head more then hug it out. What had she been thinking... drinking some strange potion from a complete stranger despite his warm smiles. She knew better then that. Ash was always responsible enough to know when to not do something, what was dangerous and what was ill appropriate. But then again... she paused in her thoughts to drink in the surroundings of the temple, of the Island. This was an extreme circumstance....and this place...it did things to people. There was something very evil in these tree's and hissing in the wind. Something growled and drew breath beneath the earth that she could feel through her finger tips. The spirit of this place was just as vile as the lords that ruled upon it. And despite what her eyes saw...she sensed that Dennis was far from as innocent and sagely as he seemed just as she knew that there was more to Citra then her gorgeous looks and her commanding power over an entire dying tribe. She saw the way they looked at one another, like they knew something. But they weren't going to discuss it in front of her. She wondered what it was, and what they planned to do about it too. Cause everyone on this rock was crazy, but it was the one's who presented themselves sane that were the one's to watch just a little closer. Even as he described the myth belonging to the primitive weapon she'd found in her dreams her interest was lackluster to be blunt. She'd gone on their little poison trip and seen things that she rightly never wanted to see again....and none of it made any sort of sense to her. And it wasn't supposed to...it was drugs in the end. Just drugs. Ironic really... that the people here practiced the same methods that their enemies ...yet they condemned them for it none the less.

Not that she was siding with Vaas and his ilk in any capacity. But in the end, she'd only done it for Ash...because of her own guilt in the end. But she wasn't so sure if that guilt was ill placed or not anymore. But whether or not she actually found this tomahawk was perhaps her lowest priority. It was an old ax, how was that really going to help her? Against a man with an army fully of itching trigger fingers? Sorcha sighed at the idea, at the ridiculousness of all their mysticism. It wasn't any wonder that these people had been driven to the brink.... they didn't understand the rules of the rock, paper, and scissors of war and murder. The only thing that really mattered around here was surviving this hell hole and finding Scha'tzi....and going home. All three of them. Alive. This isn't a fairytale. You're not going to make it off this island. The though entered her mind like some cloaked dagger and it stung as she closed her eyes and shook the voice away. And when Dennis offered his hand outward Sorcha shook her head again. She didn't need his help to get up off the ground and slowly she clamored back into her feet. Another act of stubborn defiance it was in the eyes of Citra who looked at her so superiorly, like she was wondering something that she couldn't rightly see the answer to. And when Dennis looked at her to quell the restless beast Citra merely turned on her heels. “I wish you luck on your travels, young warriors.” The tribal woman stated, though she was hardly sincere as she took her leave of the two finally, seeming to have had enough of them both for a long time to come.

“She's intense.” Sorcha mumbled, but intense wasn't the word she'd wanted to use to describe what Citra was. But...she assumed that she really didn't fancy a spear through her mouth today. Just maybe.

And it seemed that they had over stayed their welcome. And while Sorcha didn't like the company here...she wasn't any thrilled about leaving the safety of these walls....and going back out there. With him. Just the idea alone made her sick. And watching Citra walk away she couldn't help but notice again just how much she looked like Vaas...almost exactly so in fact. It made her wonder...but Sorcha held her tongue for once and quietly she followed after Dennis and Ash just a few steps behind them. But when Dennis suddenly stopped and gestured for them to wait, Sorcha's interest was piqued. She'd forgotten that Ash wasn't armed, and rightly there had been no time too collect weapons either that weren't already on their person, like her pistols were. And watching Dennis approached the two goliath's standing further off she blinked as the taller of the two slowly turned his head to fix her with an intense stare that made her almost shiver. He had a handsome but very masculine face covered in a well tamed beard and a small scar that was visible even from here over his eyebrow, his hair had been messily restrained with a strip of leather twine as well. He looked almost Hawaiian to her as she stared back at him. He was a massive beast of a man and slowly he crossed his arms over that broad chest of his, nodding softly in her direction in greeting...or was he nodding because he realized something about her that she didn't. And quietly he spoke to Dennis a few words, but he never stopped looking at her... and she couldn't stop looking at him either. There was something in the intensity of his stare that was not similar...but exactly like Vaas. Even the other one, the obvious brother, shared the same sort of look. Must have been a Rakyat thing. The idea was enough make her look upwards in thought... yet all she had was questions...and no answers.

“Who is he?” Sorcha asked, breaking her methodical and frequent silence as soon as Dennis had returned into earshot. And the man smiled, almost as if pleased with her interest in the two gorgeous creatures right out of a myth. “They are warriors.” Dennis replied, a hint of excitement in his voice, “Obviously...” Sorcha replied with a squint and a monotone and Dennis merely giggled. “You will know them soon enough, soon to will know all of us here.” The Liberian added mystically as he gestured for the girls to come with him with a gesture of his finger and hopped down the stairs nimbly. And slowly she limped down the stairs with a small cringe, glancing back past her shoulder towards the two warriors...he was still watching her as she went.

“Are you ready?” Dennis asked them, as the temple gates swung open, scrapping and grinding against the stones as Sorcha caught the look he gave to her. She blinked only once as her digits coiled around the handle of one 1911 and pulled it from the belt around her hips, the handgun snapped and clicked as she loaded the chamber of it.

“That depends if both heads are on the same page.” Sorcha added as she pushed past the Liberian, emerging out into the jungle bravely as she tightened her grasp around the pistol in her hands, amber eyes sliding from one side of the vista to the other for signs of movement or any glimpses of anything that even remotely looked red in the treeline. But it seemed maybe Vaas didn't want to play today. Maybe it was too hot for him. Which was perfectly fine in the end. He could take a day off. And then just like that they had been turned out to wolves all over again as the temple doors slammed shut in the distance once Dennis was back inside. So here is where it began, this reckless and long road back towards the hornets nest in hopes to find some wily doctor that just happened to life on this rock too. Seemed mighty convenient to her...but she wasn't about to complain as she followed silently after Ash who cut across the road and ducked into the jungle cover. And slowly she frowned as her fingers touched the wound upon her chest again...once more she wondered about how she'd gotten it and whom really had given it too her. And for a moment she wondered if she should ask the blonde a few paces ahead of her...but part of her didn't want to, finding it cruel to make her relive something so traumatic for the sake of her missing memory. Maybe later she would ask...but not now. They had enough things to think about now. “Vaas looks just like her. Like them.” The words slipped from her lips then as she ducked beneath the fanning leaves of a tall bush while another prickly red bush snagged her shirt as she went past.

And when a whistle cut across the air it was faint, further in the distance, and she stopped suddenly in her tracks. The wind blew hotly on her face as she blinked, brows knit in concern as the noise replayed over in her head. “Stop.” Sorcha ordered reaching out to grab Ash's shirt roughly to pull her back, blinking again as she scanned the jungle around them slowly, tilting sideways to peek through the gaps of trees without moving from her spot. It was silly but...every fiber of her knew that that noise wasn't a bird... it sounded almost human.

FALINE! THUMPER!

Instantly the jungle silenced herself as his voice broke out in a clear holler that was...far too loud and close by to provide any sort of comfort and quietly she looked at her companion. There truly was no rest for the wicked.

#lions and lambs #far cry 3 #fanfic #oc #vaas montenegro #benny #citra talugmai #rakyat #dennis rogers #hoyt volker

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maleficfiction · 10 years

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Farcry Bloodfeud: Parlay

Title: Bloodfeud Pairing: Oc x Citra Time: AU / Prequel Rating: Explicit

Three souls trapped upon the Island are subjected to the horrors of Hoyt's operation. One man is shot and left for dead and gathered from his watery grave by the Rakyat and their mysterious leader, Citra, who believes him a gift sent by the Goddess. With them he must train and gather strength under Citra's guidance to become the Great Guardian who once watched over the Lotus Pond in a time before The Giant and reap is revenge on the pirate Vaas who left him to the sharks. But there is another, an escaped slave whom was forced to abandon her girlfriend in the care of Vaas and his pirates, a woman whom Citra believes is a dark omen to grace her Guardian's Path.

The island was a dark and equally as dangerous place. Both beautiful and vicious and in a way it was this place that reflected within Citra herself. She was a great and powerful woman...but not powerful enough to battle back the fiends of the island alone. It was not for lack of trying rather, it was like fighting with sticks and dull rocks against creatures of scales and toughened skin. Vaas' ultimate betrayal had been what had sealed the Rakyat's fate in the end. He had been their best and without him they had faltered from their paths. They did not know how to defend against one of their own gone feral, especially not such a great warrior, who for all intents and purposes still retained every ounce of his severity. It was no wonder that the Island had burned in the destruction, but these were not simple forest fires...they were the fires of war itself. Fires of pain and anguish, fires come straight from underworld, risen to light up the night sky over ridges and mountain peaks. This Island was once beautiful, once peaceful, and it pained Dennis greatly for Ethan to come to her in such a state. Of course...for a foreigner this play may still have looked like paradise. Daresay he knew that it did, otherwise people would not come here as often as they did. And it was always a pity to witness the brutality of pirates when they found a new set of toys to breach on the beach. But the Rakyat could not save them all, they could barely save themselves. The outsiders were just one of many casualties and sacrifices that they all had to suffer in this place. But Ethan was different then they were, he and Citra knew that Ethan did not just come here. He had been lured here by the island herself.

His strength and his resolve were all the weapons that he needed to guide them to victory. And yet Dennis felt more apprehension then perhaps he should have. While he would never question Citra's intentions, it always hurt him that she did not notice his worth anymore. The wound he had suffered so long ago in battle had healed, he was still capable, even if he was a little slower then he used to be. But when she looked at him...it was never the same as those years gone. Dennis loved her, just as all the other Rakyat did, but his love was far more fierce and hot. But...the Liberian knew she did not love him. And when he watched her look upon Ethan, he saw her mysterious adoration, that spark of hope reignited from ashes – but Dennis knew it was not love. But ...it didn't stop the pang of a deep jealousy in his heart, a jealousy in which he pushed away to the back of his mind at the end of the day. Time and patience was what he reminded himself, if he waited...she would come to him. She had to.

“Do not thank us Ethan.” Dennis responded with a sagely nod and his ever gentle smile, “It is we who should thank you...” The Liberian trailed off as Citra fixed him with her green eyed stare, “All in do time.” The Priestess replied, “Now tell me...” She continued softly, seductively as she smiled down at the man laid beside her.

“Why did you come here?”Citra needed to know what sort of events had taken place here to bring Ethan to wash upon her beaches... and not just his sweeping explaination of how things went. She expected details from him, a solid story, and a recounting of every character in it.

It was hard to tell what had happened in the flurry of blinding shots in the darkness. Every flash of backfire from the barrel of the handgun was just as powerful as the sound that it made and the jerk of the device in her hand. Luckily though...the recoil wasn't as strong as she'd expected it to be. But all that did was save her one less bruise on her face and given her a few extra shots. They missed, she thought, but when the ATV had careened to the side she doubted herself for a moment. And in that moment of rare silence she watched the crushed and mangled mass of bushes and plants after the machine had crumbled against the mass of a rock, waiting for some sign of life. She waited to hear it's engine roar up like a demon risen from hell, lights burning in the darkness, at the handle of that red shirted creature with the mohawk. But she didn't see him anywhere and she wondered if it wasn't the ATV she'd struck...but him and had he been launched over the handle bars and smashed against that rock beneath those turning rubber tires? She thought maybe there would have been some signs of blood projected upwards, maybe some small dying moan...but there was nothing. Just...nothing. Not yet.

And it was the hiss of the radiator that broke the silence as a jet of hot, steaming water sprayed outwards towards the sky from the smoking wreck of a vehicle and the forestry moved violently as the wild dog unexpectedly emerged from the bushes. He wasn't even scratched... and his gait was as precise as it ever was. Hardly the walk of a man who'd just found out what it was like to make a rock move out of his way and the survivor hissed in an irritated breath. It couldn't just be that easy could it? When was anything ever so easy...especially not here and now. It wasn't hard to notice that it was going to take a lot more then one simple spin out to put this dog to sleep. But...that was fine. She didn't want him dead – yet. What she wanted right now was his attention...and hell had she gotten it.

Quietly she looked at him from the tree as he stepped forward with a sloppy aim and he screamed into the air at her from the ground. But stayed on the ground, that was the most important thing. Maybe because he really was dog and he couldn't climb trees to get the cat or maybe he just knew he'd never make it onto the branches and dodge bullets at the same time. And all in a single moment her chest heaved, drawing in a deep and angry – bullish breath through her nostrils as amber eyes squinted upon the red garbed pirate. She could always shoot him if he was going to keep screaming at her. That worked too, if no other options were present. And as she leered her wounded hand, painted thick and red slid a line of crimson down the smooth white bark as red droplets peppered the branch beneath her feet when her wounded arm moved to stabilize the other with an iron grip upon the handle of the stolen 1911 handgun in which it held. The green shirt she'd used as a quick bandage was heavy on her arm and black, almost completely soaked from the deep wounds torn into her flesh beneath. Her wet hand cupped the underside of the other as the barrel of her gun stayed on her shuffling target, a fearlessness in her eyes. She meant business here, and he knew it too.

But that didn't wipe the grin off his face for very long. Even as he screamed at her it was obvious that there was something very deeply wrong with this man, and it wasn't just the drugs in his veins. When things went awry he was quick to anger and just as quick to let it slid away...and that grin of his. It was almost as if he had enjoyed being knocked off of that ATV. Like he enjoyed being at gunpoint like he was, like this was all just one big game to him. And to be honest, Sorcha didn't doubt that it was. This man was easily excited by the smallest of things...and just as easily bored by them as well. But given a challenge? That was the thing that he liked the most. Not that she was any worthy opponent. He was stronger and faster then she ever could dream to be...but she was just as relentless as he was...if not more so.

As as the assault rifle in which he'd held, and subsequently wasted most of the ammo in shooting up at the sky, suddenly flew across the clearly she blinked. His body language changed quickly as he revered her request... but in no fashion had he dropped a single bit of his guard. And neither did she. He was still very much armed. But the shock was evident on her face when stood lax, asking for what she wanted. The redhead hadn't been expecting that...she hadn't even had thought about her answer, all she could do was look at him for a few calculated seconds before she realized that she was staring and that he knew she was staring at him. And finally she worded some silent, no doubt rude comment, as she lifted up from the branch to stand upon it rather then kneel. Slowly the handgun lowered once she was just slightly sure that he was actually going to honor her request and with wounded arm she pointed at him loosely, “You can have me.” She started, “But neither you or these assholes you call your men lay a finger on Scha'tzi. Do whatever the hell you want to me but leave her alone.” That was her demand as she slipped from the tree suddenly, stepping quickly off the branch and landing lightly on her feet, hands held upwards in surrender but kept hold of her gun just in case. “Deal, brah?” She asked slowly, watching him just as intensely as he was watching her, but ready to bolt at any moment.

#fanfic #fc3 #vaas montenegro #citra talugmai #dennis rogers #oc #bloodfeud #far cry 3

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maleficfiction · 10 years

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Farcry Bloodfeud: Tick Tock Feed The Croc

Ethan knew not what he was, save a man. He had be many things before. He had been a soldier. He had been a contemplative youth. He had been a lover, once. But now? He was a hollow man. Ambition replaced with complacency. Drive lost out to need. Now? He was a tool. A gun for hire. He was a drunk. A foreigner. He was a wounded, now jobless, sack of flesh, tendon, and bone pulled from the salty brine to be cut to fit the template enforced by this spiritual tribe and its priestess. He was a casualty to a war he had long ago lost. But this priestess would change that. Its what she did, little did he know. He would be honed, sharpened, his hollow soul reinvigorated with the spirit of a beast, his mind filled with her entrancing herbs, and fables, legends- she would even use her body to transform him into a fierce, unquestioning warrior once more. But again, he knew nothing of this. Not now. Not yet.

"Well? You have the floor, chica. The fuck do you want?"

#bloodfeud #fc3 #fanfic #vaas montenegro #oc #citra talugmai #dennis rogers #Far Cry

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maleficfiction · 10 years

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Farcry Bloodfeud: Snare

Citra was a great many things to this world. In the eyes of the island...Citra was her conduit, her voice and her passion. A forceful storm that sweltered and bode its time before releasing all manner of chaos in the shape of a swift and unforgiving monsoon. But Citra was not a storm of the body, Citra was a storm of the mind. Both beguiling as the deep blue cenote's and tropical vistas and just as deceptive as the panther that watched high in the trees, waiting to pounce upon it's distracted and unsuspecting prey. To the Rakyat people Citra was a goddess returned to earth to guide them along their Paths, to save them from the great and powerful Giant who slowly consumed this island. To they, Citra was their only leader, the only one worthy of such a title and she commanded a great amount of respect from the weak and helpless. And a powerful leader was she.

Any one of her Warriors would fight and die for her, beasts that once were men who stalked around her at all times – watching and waiting. Waiting to show their loyalty, their power, to prove themselves in the eyes of their Warrior Goddess of the Tatau's etched upon their skin. Citra commanded them all with a mere snap of her finger and they served her well. But there were those whom were...immune to her demonic charms – defects who ran from the temple, attracted by the dark and sadistic glamour that her brother possessed. He was a many of many faces, capable of unfathomable cruelty, and ungodly powerful – and he was charming in his own strange ways. To him, she was some sort of heretic to some white man's god, a witch thief who paraded herself around in the jungle like a savage and laid with men to leverage their loyalties from them. A demon who played with black magics and voodoo dolls. For everything that she stood for he stood against. For everything she believed he trampled upon. Where she fought for the will if the island, he destroyed in the name of Hoyt Volker, an outsider who claimed himself to be a god. And in his mind...it was she who was the one who was truly born of evil. She pitied him.

Yes Citra was a great many things, but what she truly was in the end – good or evil, mortal or god, it was anyone's guess. And like a fly within the trap Ethan was snared within Citra's jaws with little more then a simple look, as most men were. An island beauty who's tongue was made of sweet silver? A blooding flower who salivated a nectar even sweeter? What man wouldn't fall for such a creature?

“The Tatau is a symbol of strength and power.” Citra responded as she circled around the alter to seat herself beside Ethan while Dennis merely chuckled saying something like, “You American’s say the strangest things.” As he too seated himself and reach for his [i]uhi[/i] and a clay bowl of black hued ink. “The Tatau marks you as a warrior. It will provide you the strength to fell your enemies and survive the Island.” The temple priestess finished as Dennis looked upon her with tools in hand, as if the two shared a short and silent conversation before the Liberian pressed his spike ended tool to Ethan's deadened skin and raised his hammer to work. “It is you that guides his hands Ethan.” Citra continued as Dennis silently worked upon the primary band of the Tatau with intensity, “It is your will that calls to the guides which you will wear. And it is these guides that will help you to grow stronger.” Her fingers had combed through Ethan's hair briefly to reveal his eyes to her while a silence had befallen the trio, cut only by the lightly tapping of rock against wood. And in minutes it was obvious what manner of creature was to adorn Ethan's initial band as Citra reached over to wipe his skin with her fingers, lips curling as she admired the fresh ink upon his skin.

“The Crocodile.” Citra whispered, “The power to seek revenge through patience, the untamable power and limitless endurance.” She paused, looking down upon the laying American she leaned over, “A fine choice.”

You know there was those little moments in everyone's life where something sounded so great then turned out to be not so great in the end? This was one of those moments in her life as the black figures waved and emerged from an even darker blue background, crowding and clawing for her in the darkness to which she was merely running blindly. Already she regretted her decision, her selfishness and her lack of tact, that had won her freedom at the highest price possible. That was something she had no right to ask forgiveness for. She'd left Scha'tzi behind...with him, that alone was a fate even worse then death itself. That man was a maniac high on drugs and whatever else who looked those weaker then he like mere prey that he might decide to play with before ripping apart. Vaas was a man who was incapable of differentiating between what he said, what he felt, and what he did – he was dangerous and he was volatile.

Cruel like his South African master who yanked on his chain and even more sadistic then the boy of her age who took innocent people from their lives and their families for nothing more then the money, and watch with a smile as the people he once called friends were beaten, tortured, and mangled. He even contributed to the process... and he deserved what had happened to him. Sorcha hoped he never woke up, and too some small comfort in the fact that she might have taken his life back there in that shack. At least it reminded her that these men....were only men. They bled, they felt pain, and they could be killed. But as her foot struck against something hard in the darkness that scraped against her skin and sent her falling forward into the foliage she too was reminded that she was just the same as she hissed and unwrapped her twisted ankle from the root that had caught it. Sitting for a moment as the pain throbbed in her limb she could see the bleeding cuts left by the bark. She was reminded horribly of just how human she was.

One against many in a place that all looked exactly the same no matter which direction she turned. And in the jungle there were rules. But the funny thing was...you had to live in it to know those rules. She'd run out here hoping to escape as the distant shouts and random gunfire only crept closer whilst she forced herself back onto her feet again. But with each crawling moment it seemed as if the jungle herself was even against her as she'd hurried beneath the cover of of a boisterous plant with long and fanned leaves. Sweat had moistened her skin despite the lack of sun and slowly she breathed beneath the cover of the bush as the pain finally began to subside and she twisted and turned her foot slowly as the thunder of footsteps came down from the hillside, followed by the accented voices and largely crude dialogue of irritation and thrill. Sorcha bit upon her bottom lip as the three heavy figures emerged outward, their gaits suggesting them bore weapons at the ready as she crossed the jungle floor in poor formation. “Where the fuck did she go!?” One of them snapped, as the second fired up into the canopy. “We're gonna find you whore!” Another shouted, as he turned his machete in his hands and bore no other weapons.

“She has to be here. She doesn't know the jungle like we do.” The third one stated, ironically calm. “Boss is gonna kill us if we don't find her soon!” The first man snapped, turning to walk in the opposite direction of where she was in fact hiding. She'd been gripping her stolen weapon so tightly her fingers were numb as she watched them through the cover of leaves as they ambled off. For dead men walking...they certainly were making much of an effort to find her...all things considered. But it didn't change her feeling any more then the next prick that would come down that hillside. It didn't change the fact that they were right and her woman was still back there with them. She didn't know this jungle, not like they did. The men weren't even gone from sight when she popped out of her little hiding spot, and circled quickly around the bulbous trunk of the tree that had tripped her in the first place as she came to a slower jog into the opposite direction of the men. Every part of her wanted to kill them right then and there, before they even realized it, and every part of her knew that she could have done it too...but the last thing she needed to do was to attract herself attention and she wasn't even sure how many bullets she actually had.

She had to think. And she couldn't do that with pirates swarming around like a nest of disturbed ants. But like all good plans...when did they ever go as planned? As the jungle opened up before her into a clearing of high standing tree's with white bark and high leaves she heard the distant but familiar shout of Vaas.

[I]Come out, come out wherever you are! Where the fuck are you?! Show your broken face, or I'm going to go home and fuck your little puta bloody!"[/i]

Her blood had run cold at the thought as she froze in place, amber eyes shifting towards the headlights of the growling machine that he piloted through the tree's just before the clearing. Sorcha didn't even doubt his intentions on the subject, she knew he would go back to do exactly that if she didn't throw up her hands and beg him for his forgiveness. It was a painful idea really...having worked so hard to be the hero, having broken free even if things didn't go the way she'd wanted them to, only to have to give herself back up to these men for the sake of the only one who really mattered at the end of it all. But then again...maybe that was what being a hero was truly about? Her body shot forth across the clearing as the lights had passed over her just long enough to show him where she was. Cutting across the clearing she tucked her gun into her skirt as she leapt up from the jungle floor with the grace of panther , hands grasping upon the white, slightly sticky bark of a low hanging branch and with nothing more then brute strength she hauled herself easily onto the branch. And that was when the gunfire grew it's loudest, pounding in her ears as the ATV broke out into the clearing, she wasn't so sure he had seen her yet. But it didn't matter. She saw him just fine.

And extracting the gun she aimed outward towards the growling vehicle, firing off two or maybe three rounds at it. Two of them whizzed away into the jungle but the third clipped the closest wheel, causing the tire to blow out as the Avt lurched suddenly to one side, stopped only by a large hidden rock in the bushes....but the nimble pirate had already leapt off a long time ago...and landed on his feet too. Holding her wounded arm to her torso she dropped down to one knee, shoulder pressing against the tree's trunk as she balanced herself upon the branch, aiming the gun this time for him instead.

“Parlay motherfucker.”

#bloodfeud #farcry 3 #rp #fic #vaas montenegro #citra talugmai #dennis rogers #oc #hoyt volker #douglas stephenson

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maleficfiction · 10 years

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Lions and Lambs Chapter 5: Zom'Bi

There were many things in life that failed to explain themselves. Many things in life that were cruel, unjustified, and morbid. Whether it was the cruelty of the slave trade or the gruesome image of a dead friend lying in the bed of a truck. Some things in this life just stuck. Burned in the mind and memory, never to be erased. But there was never an answer as to why. Why the slave trade? Why shoot a girl down like animal in the woods? What pure lack of emotion did one soul have to possess to become so unfathomably cruel and indifferent to the plights of others. It's like watching a fawn die Hoyt had said, its a slow and painful process to endure – daresay it hurts and it disgusts – but you keep on watching until that last glimmer of life leaves the eyes. And then you simply didn't have a friend anymore, just like that. In three seconds the woman you'd shared your darkest secrets to and cried your fears on in essence no longer existed. And what was left was the shell. And it looks pretty now...pale perhaps...but still pretty until the bugs set in. Until the rot set in and the smell became far to unbearable. So you don't watch that part. You take care of the body with your happy memories of how she looked and sounded, and you cry and mourn her loss, never once questioning God's decision. For a while part of you still expects her to come home at night and smile at you as she comes through the door. Until you realize your mistake and that hurts even more to realize that she isn't ever coming back. Because you saw her die, you saw the light leave her eyes, you saw her take her last breath. But you didn't once stop to make sure that she really was dead.

If before Ash had any faith left in the religion she'd grown up with, five days stuck in the compound prison cell was more than enough to destroy that. She'd questioned the existence of a god for years now, and after this she had come to either one of two conclusions. One, there flat out was nothing. There was no good and loving Lord up above, that much she was sure of in any event. Or two, there was in fact a God and He was no benevolent watcher of his flock, but rather... More like a sadistic child with an ant farm, just watching his subjects rip each other to pieces while he did nothing. It was Even with the possible nonexistence of a God or a Heaven, there was definitely still a Hell. She'd learned in the past week now that Hell existed, and it was not some place deep underground filled with fire and brimstone like the church had always painted it to be. It wasn't only sinners that wound up in Hell either, but innocent bystanders that were dragged down along with the rest simply because they existed at the wrong place and time. Without a shred of doubt, Hell existed on earth on this island. That much Ash was convinced of, and had even met the devil himself at the helm of it all that controlled the place. She'd seen his army of demons that carried out his every word and laughed as they did so. Before Rook she thought she'd known what cruelty was, having grown up with the good Revered Cordell and his oh-so-sweet right hand woman. A single day alone with her devil had shown her otherwise very quickly. It wasn't as though she was naive- she'd known exactly what the word 'slave' had entailed from the moment she'd heard it. She'd known exactly what would happen to the women unfortunate enough to wind up dragged into this place. At some point she was going to have to thank Hoyt for everything he'd inadvertently taught her with his displays of power, as it had taught her everything she'd needed to know about survival here. She'd learned to take a leaf from his book, to not care about another human's pain. It had turned out to be a valuable lesson, and had taught her to fight as hard as she could with tooth and nail to keep the demons at bay when they got too close with obvious intentions. As long as she kept up with keeping herself detached from her emotions, it hadn't even bothered her to bite down on one man's hand clear to the bone. Five days of this had earned her a trip right back to Vaas, with promises of the pirate king breaking her in finally. Give him time and it's going to happen, just watch. As odd as it was... That actually was what gave Ash another hesitant spark of hope. Hadn't the same been said of Scorcha? She'd never broken, even when she'd been left alone with Vaas himself. She hadn't even been broken at the end of it all, had been defiant til her end. Frankly it was because of the redhead that Ash had decided to keep fighting at all, her words still playing in her head like a broken record. Stay strong. Stay strong. She was trying, but she'd already begun to doubt if Vaas wouldn't in fact break her the moment she'd actually seen him. He'd already looked crazed before, but there was something different now with him. Something feral and dangerous glinted in his eyes as he stalked around the camp endlessly, ever clutching that camera like his life depended on it and eyes glued to whatever was on the screen. - True to Hoyt's prediction, Vaas had in fact started to get over the loss of Scorcha as a plaything. It was disappointing, yes, but what was he going to do? Cry over a dead bitch? That was just stupid. In fact, he'd all but begun to forget about the girl while he busied himself with fixing the damage done to the camp until chance took him past the grave. Nothing about it was special as he'd passed by to drag the corpse of his tiger out into the trees, except... It was missing a body. Just the day before he'd laid Scorcha to rest there atop a pile of dead men and women, but she was no longer resting there. The tiger forgotten immediately he'd set about investigating, finding signs of crawling and dragging movements that smeared blood across the ground in the process. So he hadn't been hallucinating. Vaas had seen those faint movements because she had somehow survived. It didn't surprise him much honestly, the girl had proven to be a hell of a determined fighter. The trail had led some ways away... And then stopped where another set of faint barefoot prints appeared. After that the trail was almost nonexistent, and Vaas had gone back to camp absolutely livid. Scorcha had been alive and he'd quite literally let her walk off with someone. It was enough to have him screaming at everyone and breaking everything he could get his hands on until he'd reached his little hut and seen the broken camera lying where it had been thrown. Lo and behold it still worked, allowing him to watch the footage he'd captured of Scorcha in his bed up until her assault and consequent escape. It was the last few seconds of the video that held his attention, though, where Scorcha had picked up the camera to look at the lens before throwing it against the wall. Those few seconds he rewound and rewatched over and over again, never once losing focus on the recorded imagine of his girl. The five days until Ash had been brought back went almost exactly like that with very little change. Vaas sat and watched the clip, rewound it, watched it again. Rewound it, watched it again. Food and sleep were all but ignored until one of the two refused to be denied any longer, but at that he only indulged them minimally. Anything more than that meant he wasn't following his routine with the camera. Rewind, rewatch. The grainy image of the girl's hollow expression held him absolutely spellbound, something in her eyes was what did it. It was a look Vaas himself wore so often, and if before he'd had a bit of a thing for the redhead... It had bloomed into a full-on obsession now. And someone had made off with the object of his obsession, which infuriated Vaas to no end. Ash's arrival only made his mood worse. She and that other girl were living reminders of the stolen redhead, and somewhere in the haze of madness and heavy drug use he'd come to the conclusion that one of the two had to know something. They'd proven to be so tight-knit, why wouldn't they. Which was why Vaas now found himself crouched in front of Ash's cage, staring down the terrified blonde as if expecting her to tell him everything right then. She'd been so stone-faced when she was brought in, but now she was shaking like a leaf under the weight of his glare. "What happened to her?" He asked quietly. Ash blinked in honest confusion. What happened to who? "I... I don't know what you're talking abo-" "That's fucking BULLSHIT!" The pirate exploded all at once, rising from his crouch to slam a fist into the bars of the cage and making the girl flinch. "How the fuck do you not know?!" "I don't even know what you're talking about! What happened to who?" At once Ash regretted ever opening her mouth as Vaas circled around the cage to kneel again, this time right on the other side of the bars where she'd curled up. "Her." He held up the camera screen to show the paused image of Scorcha's face staring into the lens. Scorcha? What was this man even talking about, what happened to her? He'd been there to see her get shot, had been holding onto her at the time. How did he not know what had happened? "She... she got shot," Ash choked out in barely a whisper, no more able to look away from the screen than Vaas was. That expression scared her honestly, she'd never seen Scorcha look like that at anything. What scared her more was the look on Vaas' face, something that she couldn't explain exactly beyond looking somehow more deranged. "I KNOW she got shot, chica, I'm asking what the fuck you did with her afterwards." What? Even as much as the snarling pirate terrified her, his question only confused her more than intimidated. "What I did-? I didn't do anything. I don't..." "A dead bitch does not just FUCKING GET UP and disappear!! What the fuck happened, what did you DO?!" As he screamed at her this time he rose to his feet again, taking up an erratic pacing as he looked from the camera to Ash and back again. This man had lost it. That was the only logical explanation Ash could come up with for why Vaas was screaming at her over the disappearance of a dead girl when she had been locked away on an entirely different island. Not to mention he had watched her die! He'd been closer to the dying redhead than Ash herself had been. If this was part of the plan to break her, it might have worked yet for as much as he was terrorizing and confusing her then. "I don't know... I swear I don't know!" The last part was tinged with hysteria as he'd started toward the cage again, with whatever awful intentions on his mind. Ash had no desire to know, and even less desire to fight with him. "I swear I have no idea. You were there, you saw her die. I saw it too. I don't know what you're talking about." Incredibly, Vaas was shaking his head in response to her quiet words. No? What did that even mean, no, he hadn't watched Scorcha be shot and killed? "Fucking... No. No she's not. Not even close. Some FUCK up and stole what's mine and I'm gonna find them. Fuck them up too." Still mumbling to himself he ambled off, glued once more to the camera. From their respective angles, it was finally visible to Ash what exactly he was doing with it. Rewind, rewatch. Rewind, rewatch. It sent a sick, cold feeling all the way to the core of her, and it almost made her glad Scorcha was no longer alive. God help her if she had been... That would only end badly for the redhead. Something deep in Vaas had evidently snapped in a bad way, and judging from how his men skirted around him and watched him apprehensively, this wasn't a new development. Jesus, Scorcha... What did you do to that man? In an insane way, Ash was glad then for the sturdy cage keeping her sequestered here. It was what stood between her and madness right then, and she didn't want to lose that barrier.

How will I find them? You know the way. Search deep within yourself and you will find your Path But was it a path that was even worth traveling at this point? Would it be worth walking into a red unknown without a plan nor a clue as to who she was and why she was here? Yes there was a question why was she here? Even now she could still remembered, faintly, the sound of the gun roaring into her ears, like a great angry bear the blast had tackled her downward and ripped mercilessly into her flesh. Did this to her. Left her a shuffling husk with a wound that would turn even the strongest of stomachs. It looked tame now...hidden by bandages – maybe just looked like a broken or sprained shoulder ...but she knew what it looked like. And it was going to be there forever, a rigid scar upon her skin to remind her just how lowly someone had once thought of her to shoot her down like an animal and watch her gargle and writhe upon the floor as death's bony fingers clawed at everything she once called life. The marring would never disappear ...and she would never truly regain full use up her arm again as Dennis had said it. But if she believed in herself... she could overcome the cards that had been dealt to her and maybe even with time forget that she once was able to lift her arm completely. But her question yet still remained unanswered, why had she lived?. Maybe the better question should have been why did she even want to. Why did she fight for air and why did she tumble from a nest of rotting limbs and crawl across the dirty jungle floor. Why? When she had been so prettily laid to rest at the top of the grave, under a pretty tree, in the gentle and quiet lull of the wilderness at night? It went to show maybe that someone cared a little more not to just throw her into the heap like a nameless bundle of dead nerves and skin cells. But was it really respect ...or was it truly an added insult. Make my massacre pretty. Maybe there was no real answer. Maybe the answer itself was called human instinct. Sometimes you just got lucky so to speak. For better and for worse. Yet this path spoke of...was it really just some viney trail in the jungle leading right back to cursed grounds tinted red with blood? Or did it lead to a girl who's face was a blur but whom she cared for deeply? And if it did...was it a friend she would find? Or something unrecognizable? There was no guarantee that the girl was even still the girl in her memories. She'd been held captive by men who didn't care that she had a name nor a family, a life...or simple wants and needs. They didn't care that she was a human being...she was nothing to them but what they wanted her to be. She had to ask herself if it was really worth it...if what she found wasn't her friend anymore? But an animated husk? She would do the same for you. The whisper reminded her as she lurched through the clearing set upon the upper incline of the mountain that lead right down to the sea just outside of the village. You know the way. Again it repeated as the deadened survivor came to a halt. Sounds reeling through her mind of gunfire and screaming as she drank in the lush green foliage that swayed so gently in the sea breeze. This was where it had happened, Dennis was right...she knew the way. Not consciously...but she knew. And for moment she took pause as her fingers touched upon the heavy bandages wrapped around her chest and shoulder. Slowly her eyes turned down to the forests floor as a baboon yowled from a nearby tree, alerting his ilk of her presence as she scrutinized the jungle floor. Blood. So much blood. Now dark an crusted, an obvious black ichor upon the grass blades and fallen leaves and spider webbed vines. It was hard to believe that all of it had come from her. This was where it had happened, where she'd died. Where a man called Vaas had shot her down for his own sick satisfaction. For a moment she looked at her hand, it too had been heavily bandages as she'd cut it when crawling across the ground, her skin was still so pale that it made the sand down at the bottom of that hill look colorful. But that mattered little right now. Right now she had to find her way from where it had ended back to the place where it all had begun. But how?. The whisper didn't answer immediately as the jungle seemed to breath hotly down upon her, angrily, as if it hated her presence here as the canopy shifted just enough to pass down a ray if light onto something reflective left lost in the underbrush. Sorcha moved forward, coming down to a kneel as she reached for the shining black object. It was hot to the touch, having been warmed by the sun, the perfect mate to the pistol stowed away into her belt. And for a moment she merely held the glock in both hands, leering down at its familiarity. She remembered scrambling for it and powerful arms throwing her down into the grass...she remembered taking this gun from someone. The man in red. How strange was it that it was just left behind like this? Or maybe...maybe it was a gift from the jungle herself. Why do you ask questions that you already know the answers to? Amber eyes fluttered upwards to the pillar of black smoke through the canopy's head, some distance away, but prominent. It was smoke from a pyre of some sort...a marker. Already she could smell the flesh burning in the fire. I just don't want to feel alone is all. Sorcha thought as she rose to her feet and placed her required weapon next to the other so they could become properly antiquated with one another. Don't be a weakling.[i] The whisper replied coldly, “You are alone. You always have been “That's not very nice.” Sorcha finally whispered into the hot jungle air, almost breathless as she made through the tree's. Following the trampled down pathway left by a line of careless men with bit boots. Since when have you ever been nice? Never. That was the plain and simple answer. Nice wasn't her duty in life. Her duty in life was to serve as the protector of others. She wouldn't bother herself with their emotions or the happenings in their lives...but she would be there to pull them out of the water when they were drowning and back from the roof ledges when they felt like jumping. She was there to remind them of the things still worth living another day for...and that whatever sort of monster was tearing them down wasn't strong enough to totally end their world. Be strong she would say. Survive. She had said those very words to Ashley. And she had meant them. And as that black pillar of smoke grew closer as the river raged downward inside of the chasm opened up in the island she prayed that those words had held true. She prayed that Ash had stayed strong and survived, she had faith. But Sorcha knew better then to hold her breath as the chorus of rowdy laughter and voices grew in volume and through the tree's she saw it. The great fortress, hidden into a nook against the mountain side and shielded by the cover of the jungle herself. Rusty metal barricades and fences lined the encampment...but obviously did little to keep anything out with all the holes blasted into them and links cut open. It was obvious still that the lord of this castle wasn't afraid of enemy action...in fact...it almost felt as if he welcomed it. His men made merry and laughed at nothing and shot at Macaques in the tree's while they all wandered aimlessly and lax. This place made no attempt to be hidden. And yet it still stood...but did it stand because what was hiding inside was that great of a fear? Or because there were no worthy adversaries to claim his castle? As she stood close to the trunk of a centari tree even she wasn't so sure as to what she was doing here anymore. Again...was this worth it? Even as men meandered by in the distance she only stood...if only to see what they would do. And they never once noticed her watching them so obviously. One she was sure had even looked in her direction...how he didn't see her was anyone’s guess...either that or he just didn't care. Then a thought occurred to her as she sidled behind cover, back pressing against the rough bark as the pirates erupted into another infectious cackle. The pirates will be celebrating.... do not overestimate their abilities to recognize lies through drunkenness. She was right. She really did have all the answers that she needed...if she just looked a little bit harder for them. But luckilly for her....nature had her. The pound of the music from the camp had almost drowned out the sound of footsteps and were it not for the mighty belch that had erupted from the pirate Sorcha might not have seen him first when he suddenly appeared from behind another tree, a sway in his footsteps as he struggled to zip up his fly after taking a piss. Even from where she stood she could smell the alcohol on him and she blinked, tilting her head outwardly slightly to further scrutinize him fighting with his own pants. He was a big man all things considering, with skin so dark it put a whole new meaning of the term 'black man'. Do not overestimate their abilities to recognize lies through drunkenness. The man was beginning to shuffle into her direction, forcing her to slide around to the other side of the tree before he noticed her leaning there as he came to grab one of the massive branches – mumbling in Swahili. “Hey...what's dat smell?” She heard him slur to himself as circled around to his back, peeking out from the trunk to find his back to her as he looked around the opposite side of the tree. There was a sizable pocket knife strapped to his belt...she fancied it to be her's from now on. And moving outward she reached for it's hilt, pulling it easily from the holster as he chuckled at some joke he had never even said to begin with. “I can smell you...stop hiding!” He teased, “Come out my little island slut.” He must have thought she was someone else. She wasn't surprised. Fingers tightened around the knife as thumb flipped outward the sharpened blade as she leapt upon the man's massive back, the blade cutting deep into the flesh of his neck as he tossed her over his shoulder easily with a garbled cry. Sorcha hit the ground with a sharp hiss, back arching in pain as she moved onto her side in the grass. The world was just a little blurry as she blinked and the pirate gurgled upon his own blood as he fell to his knees, fingers within the wound to try to stunt the bleeding...but it was far too late for that. And slowly his massive frame sunk to the grass as amber orbs glanced upwards, left to right, for any more wandering red shirts in the area. “Lies through drunkenness...” Sorcha repeated as she glanced to her wounded shoulder, what was once white bandages now a sort of pink and darkening quickly, making her groan. “Lie to the drunkenness.” She she concluded as she looked over the dead body of her newest kill. That's what he meant. Lie to them... it didn't have to be ridiculously methodical. It just had to look good enough. Make it look good. The memory flashed before her eyes, making her cringe at the ramshackle shack and ash trays. “...fuck...” She grumbled, sliding forward to seize the shirt of the fallen man as she wrenched it over his head with a few more added curses before she slide to his side, cringing as she rolled him to his back and pulled at the half closed zipper of his pants. Yanking the garment down his legs and worked his boots off of him as well and taking both his pants and his shirt her nose wrinkled at the stench that reeked from them. Somehow...she felt like she might just regret this. And holding her breath she slid the red tank top over her head and the pants over her own. Securing them loose upon her hips with his belt the tank top did little to actually cover her own shirt...but it would just have to do for now. The last items she took from him were his beret and his assault rifle, the rifle was slung over her shoulder while she tucked her auburn hair into the ugly green hat that surprisingly enough fit her better then any of the other items of her new grave robbed outfit. God she hoped that this would work... Huffing against the added heat then she made for the camp with her head held downward towards the blasted outward hold in the rusty barricade, almost as if someone had blown it up at one point in life...that was probably exactly what had happened too. And crouching down she slithered through it and into the lions den unnoticed and as she stood up, brushing the dirt off her knee's she heard a distant voice shouting...but she couldn't make out the words. Her heard hammered at the sound in morbid familiarity. She knew that voice. But there was no face to match up to it....yet every part of her soul told her to travel towards it if she wanted to find her Ashley. Who ever that voice was...he knew where she was in this pit of disgust and murder. And so she did. A slow and rough pace down the dirty pathway with her head hung and her hands tight upon the assault rifle in her arms as she grew closer to the enemies. Some were standing on patrol...others enjoying a poker game...some looked wild eyed as the hurried away from a place further down like something was about to kill them. That had to be the direction to her...but she would have to go through them to get there. Huffing again she meandered forward as the men suddenly laughed again when one of them lost his hand at the game and she tensed momentarily, slowing to a stop to look at them for a moment, before pressing on. And what shouldn't have worked...evidently did. It was hard to tell ...but all of them were drunk here and as she moved passed them not a single one really took notice...but one man did look at her in a glance with some frustrated intensity. But only a second later he was back to looking at his cards. Just how was this possible? She couldn't help but wonder...not that she was complaining as she emerged through the barricade of human bodies undetected and shuffled just a little quicker down into the rows of shacks where the voice had come from. She saw him then... come out from around the corner like a cat in a dark room. A bronzed skinned man with a razor sharp mohawk atop his head and a deep red tank top on his broad chest. She froze in place, eyes wide as she sucked in a startled breath though her nose as he stalked across the pathway, eyes turned downward into a camera in pieces in his hands. He didn't look like the rest of them...there was an intensity in his movements and a wild look in the scowl held upon his face but above all there was a power seething from him that she could feel even from a distance, like a knife cutting slowly and deeply into her wound that now had begun to bleed fiercely. And just as suddenly as he had appeared did he suddenly stop in the middle of the path, head beginning to turn into her direction. She was got from there faster then a cockroach in the light as she hugged her rifle and scrambled behind one of the closer shacks just off the pathway. He had spotted her...she could feel it and panting slightly she leaned outward, leering around the edge of the shack to find the man still standing there in all his glory. The camera had fallen but was still held in his hand as he stared intensely down the pathway, squinting slightly as his tongue slithered slowly across his lips as he looked from one side of the path to the other side in quiet contemplation with mere subtle tilts of his head into either direction. She could see the slight confusion on his face...as if he wasn't exactly sure if he had actually seen anything at all and slowly his head tilted back and the scowl returned to his face and miraculously he continued on his path to...where ever the fuck he was going to, the camera however never once raised back up while he was still in her sight. “...really?” Sorcha whispered, almost shocked herself that he hadn't come stalking in her direction...but one too grateful that he didn't. Yet... she felt unsettled. Naked even. Just looking at him had stirred something inside of her that made her feel sick and exposed. And she hadn't any idea who he was either. She breathed out then...not daring to enter out onto the path – her very instincts telling her to stay out of side as she moved down the wall in the opposite direction and circled around the far corner, her heart leaping at the sight of a large bamboo cage and the blonde head of a girl inside with her back to her. Could that be? Slowly she moved forward, lurching out into the open again as the cage came closer and closer but she remained silent as she reached up to rip the beret off of her head, a tangled mess of red spilling over her shoulders in absolute frustration of the heat it caused her. And throwing the beret into the dirt she circled around to a side of the cage in which she could see Ash's face... ambling to a stop before her, looking for the world as if she were lost as she looked down upon the girl in the cage, recognizing her as her own. But she couldn't quite speak just yet as the realization hit her hard...Ashley looked like a frightened...roughed up mess. Sorcha frowned at her, looking hollowly through the shafts at her when a noise drew her attention away momentarily. “Ey?” It sounded almost Asian and nasally as her head turned slowly, glaring sidelong straight at the short and lanky frame of another pirate in a cameo vest instead of a wife beater. He looked young, and very Asian, perhaps around seventeen years old with his long baby face marred by some sickly looking disfigurement over one of his eyes. “Jian...” The boy had begun to whisper, “JIANG SHI!” He cried as he threw his weapon down and began to flee. Sorcha bolted after him the second he had began to move and striking him viciously in the kidney the boy cried as he stumbled forward and her arm hooked around his skinny little neck as she drug his struggling body easily back towards the cage, her new best friend held taut against his lips as she hissed into his ear, “Where's the key motherfucker?” She asked, causing the boy to flinch as the knife cut him slightly...but he didn't answer. “Listen to me chink...you tell me where the key is or im'a make a voodoo doll out of you!” The redhead snapped as the boy, “Vaas has it!” The boy finally cried, earning a feral sort of growl from his captor, “Of course he does...”

- For what seemed like a long time Ash simply stared up at the redhead, absolutely certain she'd lost her mind and had begun hallucinating. Vaas had just finished screaming at her about Scorcha, and now here the girl herself stood decked out in too-large pirates' clothing, staring down at her with an equally blank look. She was just about convinced she was projecting her lost friend's image onto some random man and had begun to tense in preparation for whatever move the pirate- not Scorcha, couldn't be her- was going to try, when her eyes fell to the bandages dressing the girl's chest. Even with the growing bloodstain beneath the fabric it was far cleaner than anything Ash had seen in a while now, stark white and sterile against the filthy pirate's clothes. That made no sense, and again the blonde blinked in incomprehension. She was seeing things, that much was certain, but why on earth had she imagined bandages as well? It made no sense. As she still pondered what her mind was even doing, another voice called out to the two curiously. A few moments of staring at the redhead in horror passed, and the boy shouted out a foreign term Ash didn't recognize before turning to flee. In an instant Scorcha- she had to remind herself it couldn't be Scorcha, she'd watched her die- flew after the skinny Asian and dragged him back towards her cage, her knife at his mouth. Hallucination or not, a pirate wouldn't attack one of his own... Right? A dead bitch does not just FUCKING GET UP and disappear!! "Scorcha?" She finally whispered out, hardly daring to believe her own eyes. At that moment relief like Ash had never known flooded through her strongly enough to bring her to tears as she shook her head in Scorcha's direction. How...? "How?" She repeated the thought echoing insistently in her mind, still not understanding but more grateful than anything. "No, just- just tell me later. You have to..." All at once the relief was snuffed out with the Asian boy's words. Vaas has the key. Vaas. "Oh. No, listen, you have to get out of here then," She hissed, glancing around as though simply speaking the pirate king's name would make him appear. "You don't even... You have no idea what he's been like. I think he knows you're alive- somehow, I don't know." The words tumbled from her mouth in an unstoppable flow, anything to get Scorcha to understand what she'd walked into. "But he's gone crazy, like crazier than before, and he's been walking around with that camera just rewatching these couple of seconds of your face and it's the most creepy insane thing I've ever seen. He's obsessed. And- and he was just here! He was just now here yelling at me because he thinks I somehow did something and helped you- you can't let him see you." This time the tears that choked Ash's voice were for a different reason than happiness- she absolutely could not handle watching Scorcha die a second time. And with Vaas, she doubted the redhead would get back up again. "You gotta go, or hide, or figure something out." - No, of course he hadn't seen her. Vaas shook his head as if it would chase the thought away as he'd returned to his camera, resuming his routine with the rewind button. Obviously he just needed another hit, or a good smoke to bring down the tension that just wouldn't leave him as of late. With every intention of doing just that he'd continued on his way to where he knew the heart of the party was, and where his boys would be all too quick to offer him what they had. By the time Vaas made it there, though... He was thoroughly convinced there was something just not right. It wasn't that anything was overtly amiss, it was more just a nagging sensation that rose the hair on the back of his neck and knitted his brows. It had everything to do with what he'd seen a ways off from Blondie's cage, when he had felt eyes on him. Looking up he'd seen what looked for all the world like Scorcha, for whatever reason dressed like one of his men. But just as quickly as he'd seen her she was gone again, leaving him standing in the middle of the path confused and slightly suspicious. But damn it all, he wanted that hit, and let his feet continue carrying him to one of the poker tables where a few of his men sat crowded around. At the same moment he'd relieved one of the men from the joint in their hands, a very familiar shout echoed across the camp. It was faint, but there was no doubt in Vaas' mind that he'd heard Carlos yelling just now. "...Smells like a bitch in here." He stated quietly, lowering the joint from his lips to sniff at the air. "What?" The activity at the table had come to a halt with Vaas' words and tense posture, with each man there thinking the mohawked leader was about to fly into another rage as he'd been so prone to lately. "Boss, you tripping...?" One dreadlocked man asked hesitantly, earning him a few elbows from his companions and hisses to shut up. "No no no, you smell that? None of you do?" He tossed the lit joint back into the middle of the table, shuffling off a few more steps to look back the way he'd come from. "Smells like bitch. I'm gonna go see why, too, 'cause I don't like this shit." As he increased his pace Vaas swore at himself mentally, knowing somehow he'd let something very important slip right by him. What it was he was still unsure of, but he'd already sensed somehow it was nothing good. It never was... "Carlos!!" He shouted, adding a sharp, piercing whistle that he knew carried surprisingly well. "What the fuck you yelling about, huh? Hermano!" The skinny brat had probably gotten himself into trouble if Vaas guessed correctly, which he was sure he had. He'd very nearly walked right by the problem as he passed the cage keeping Ash captive, wouldn't have spared the blonde a glance since she mostly hadn't moved from her corner since arriving, but something in her posture tipped him off. She'd turned to face the bars of the left side of the cage, where she appeared to be talking quietly with one of two men. One was Carlos, held in a very tight grip with a knife to his terrified face. The other wasn't a man at all, Vaas realized with widening eyes. The other was Scorcha in the flesh, keeping a hold around Carlos' neck to keep him from scrambling away. "Holy shit." For a reason he didn't quite understand himself Vaas laughed out loud at the sight, staring down at the redhead in disbelief. "What in the fuck are you, chica? Tell you what." He strode forward to retrieve Carlos' rifle, using it to gesture at the captive pirate. "Let my boy there go play somewhere else, and then you and me are gonna have a talk. Ok?" Though his tone was almost friendly, both the look in his eyes and the rifle trained on Scorcha's head spoke a very different story, making it clear he wasn't asking at all. "What is it, you think you can just walk in here, walk out with her? Huh?" He jerked his chin in Ash's direction, though didn't take his eyes off Scorcha's for a second. She just kept making it clear she needed to be watched or else she got herself into all kinds of trouble. "Is that what you think is going to happen here? What is that?" He added much more quietly, his gaze having focused in on the clean bandage adorning the gunshot wound he knew lurked beneath it. "Made friends, huh? Did we?" - The little man known as Carlos struggled in her grip, his shoulder grazing against her wounded, making her cringe something fierce. But pain was nothing compared to what it had been thanks to Dennis' mixture of plants... but no good thing could last forever. And she could feel its effects beginning to wane – having been used up on the trek here which had taken hours it felt like. Already she realized how downhill her plan had...or rather she wondered why she hadn't thought about it in a little more detail and taken into account some obvious scenarios. Maybe she was too concerned in quelling that lingering idea that her friend was not here to really think...then again maybe she hadn't come in here caring in the first place about any plan. There was something coiling through her veins that she couldn't explain...and it muddled her mind into casting away caution. And when Ash spoke finally she found the girl in her cage still, suddenly the light that had once been in her eyes had reignited. That hope. The hope she'd brought back to see her friend still alive...despite all the odds. Despite what she had seen. But was it really her friend she saw? Was it really still Sorcha in there? There always was a saying that the dead were to remain dead because....if if they came back it was against nature's will. If they came back...they never really were quite the same. There was never a truer statement as the girl begged her and pleaded with her to run away, to hide from this ...Vaas. This name with no face that everyone seemed to fear around her for his power and strength....and cruelty. Sorcha remembered once that she'd told Ash to run too. And that wound still stung very much. And it was obvious by the slightly darkened expression she cast at the girl that that was the moment in time she had been pulled too in the moment. I told you to run and you didn't listen. Now look at you. That was the only thought reeling through her made, and just bitter coldness of it....she knew it wasn't her thinking these cruel things. But she was all the same. And perhaps the friend that she knew would have cut her with those words...but this woman before her was just so simply...silent. And maybe that was even worse. Her offish way was only slightly broken when her eyes wandered over the camp in modest confusion as she searched for any shred of a memory of this man Ash was afraid off. He butchered you she thought...yet if he had...wouldn't she had remembered that? Wouldn't she remember the face of the man who tried and almost killed her? If nothing else? Wouldn't she remember a lot of things even? If this nightmare had left Ash in a cage...like some animal...disheveled, bruised, and broken? Maybe there was a reason why she didn't remember. Maybe this was for the best, for her – and no one else. She could see the girls fear breaking through with tears and a broken voice...but it wasn't the man she feared....no it was something else she feared here. But what was it? And slowly an image had begun to build in her mind of the demon come to earth, of this crazier then before man who evidently was obsessed with her. The man in the red shirt. The thought presented itself but that image there in the shack....it didn't include his face...only the weapon she'd taken from him. Camera. And that was it, finally there was a spark of life in her clouded eyes as the proud and powerful shape of the dark skinned man on the path replayed in her mind. The man with the mohawk and the darkened eyes. He had had a camera in his paws...and he had looked crazed. Sorcha finally understood Ash's anxiety...she too had felt a powerful need to increase the distance between she and him in that brief moment as well. And perhaps so very true to her nature she banished the idea just as quickly. She'd come too far to run off with her tail between her legs and she just couldn't leave Ash in that cage like that. Who knew what he would do to her if she did...maybe the same thing he had done to her in the shack. And as if summoned out of hell as the utterance of his name his voice cut through across the camp, strong and powerful, calling out to Carlos who had been screaming like a bitch just now. Her arm tightened around the boy's neck as the demon appeared just as suddenly as before and drew back a step, yanking the boy back with her as the Rakyat realized who she was almost instantly, not that that was too terribly hard these days. And from over Carlos' shoulder she scrutinized him before her. She should have known his face, his gait, everything – she should have known and yet he stood there a stranger to her and slowly she glanced to her captive. It was becoming clear she held something that meant something to him to some degree...but just how large a degree that was was anyone's guess in the end. This man seemed like his mind changed often like the directions of the wind and as the rifle trained upon her she kept her meat shield close to her heart, not ready to give him up on some mere command. She saw that look in his eyes, that feral and angry look. She didn't doubt his intent to shoot her down the second his boy was clear of the line of fire, finish what he'd started and yet... she felt a far different threat from him. The way he looked at her was just as eerie, like he was happy to see her alive for all sorts of wrong reasons and the image of that shack, the neon lights hanging from loose bulbs and the twisted and dirty sheets bundled up upon the mattress was all she could think about when she looked at him. And her body seemed to chill and shrivel upon itself as Carlos suddenly rammed himself backwards, forcing her to slam back into the shack wall as pain ripped through her body in an instant...sapping her strength out of her just as quickly as she released him easily and dropped down to one knee with a hiss. “Jiang Shi, Vaas!” The boy yelped as he sprinted to his king's side, rather hid behind his back. “You must burn her or she will not die!” Instantly anger flared. She'd had quite enough of being murdered for one lifetime and the glock slide out of her belt as the knife folded in on itself and crouched she aimed for the pirate king as her finger coiled around the trigger. Her entire body shook and it showed in the weak manner in which she held her gun...but with every intent to shoot it none the less. “I'm taking her...” She insisted, in quiet whisper. -

For a long few moments a hush fell over the group until Vaas abruptly burst out laughing at the redhead's words. "Carlos, hermano. Go put this somewhere for me, ok?" Still watching the girl intently he fished through his pocket for the battered camera, shoving it into Carlos' chest before returning his hand to the rifle again. "Now fuck off hombre. Grown ups have to talk. You're taking her, huh?" He asked, nodding toward Ash with something almost like a smile if there wasn't so much of a snarl to it. "You think you can walk in here and just leave with her? What are you going to do after you leave, huh?" His voice had taken on a quiet dangerousness as he stared down at Scorcha with an expression equal parts anger and curiosity. "Who gave you that? Hm?" He was staring again at the bandage, knowing without Scorcha's answer exactly where it had come from. There was nowhere else on the island but Amanaki that would have given a stray, shot escapee medical attention like that. And where Amanaki was, Vaas knew all too well who else was not far off. "You made more friends, huh? That's good, nena, that's healthy. You need people to watch your back. Just be careful they don't stab you in it." As he'd been speaking he took slow, deliberate steps forward, gauging Scorcha's reaction with each one to see if she really would pull that trigger on him. She wouldn't. He could see it in her eyes, she was hurting too badly and it was starting to make her breaths uneven and her gun hand shaky. Little by little his anger had died to nothing more than mild irritation, like he was just annoyed Scorcha hadn't had the decency to announce her arrival to him. Once he was barely a yard away he laid the rifle down, holding his hands up in a mock 'I surrender' pose before continuing his approach. With no warning his hand shot out to grasp the gun in Scorcha's hand, relieving her of her grip on it with a sharp twist. "Thank you, I was looking for this. You look like shit." As if it were perfectly natural he sat himself against the bars of the cage and pulled Scorcha into his lap, keeping a steel grip on her wrist to prevent her from leaving. "You couldn't take someone's shit that didn't smell like this? Fuck, man, get this off." With a wrinkled nose he set about freeing Scorcha from her stolen clothing, throwing the pants aside carelessly once he'd managed to wriggle the girl out of them. In the process of removing the red shirt, however, something gave him pause and made his entire body tense up. There, on her shoulder. The shirt slipped from his fingers to the ground where it lay forgotten in light of Vaas' new discovery. There was no mistaking that ink or what it meant, who it stood for. "So that's where you went, huh?" The question came out in barely a whisper as he moved Scorcha's tank to the side to better inspect the tatau adorning her shoulder, his teeth clenching hard enough to be heard even by Ash. "Got yourself all inked up, you're gonna be a warrior now. Huh?" The grip on Scorcha's wrist had tightened enough that there was no doubt it would leave a bruise, although Vaas either didn't notice or didn't care in his newfound fury. "You have no fucking idea what's coming, chica. No idea." - Before, Vaas had been terrifying enough with his camera and his crazed look to him. But now, this almost excitement emanating from the man, like he was a tiger savoring the moment before the pounce... This was unnerving in an entirely different way, and scared Ash far more than he had earlier. The way he was moving was odd as well, slow and deliberate as though he was trying to avoid scaring the redhead on the other side of the bars. As if that were even possible, as if he thought Scorcha was honestly going to relax or lower her gun willingly. To Ash's surprise he was the one to lower the weapon first, although a split second later she understood exactly why he had. "Scorcha GO," She hissed out far too late, with the man already in the general vicinity. Somehow he'd moved far faster than she'd ever expected, and in another moment had his gun back in his own hands. Well... That was that, then. If she hadn't felt badly before, Ash only felt worse now, watching Vaas pull her friend into his lap as though she was nothing at all. Worse still was him tugging the pirate's clothing off of Scorcha, remarking on the stench of them as though he thought he was being helpful. This she really couldn't handle watching, and frantically tried to think of something, anything at all, she could do to keep whatever Vaas' intentions were from being carried out. At the same moment she opened her mouth, however, something in the man's posture changed. Even without seeing his face directly it was readily obvious Vaas was suddenly enraged by something, but what it was Ash couldn't understand even as she followed his line of sight. When had that gotten there? Ash definitely didn't remember that white ink decorating Scorcha's shoulder, but there it was plain as day. Whatever it was, Vaas evidently didn't like it, judging from his tensed shoulders and gritted teeth. His voice was low enough that she couldn't hear what he was saying as he growled it into Scorcha's ear, but she did see the grip he had on the redhead's wrist. Tight enough that his knuckles were turning white and it was obvious that it would leave a nasty mark there later, but more than anything it worried Ash that he was about to get violent again. Why it would be over a tattoo she didn't understand, but it was Vaas. It seemed like no one understood him well. If she was going to do something it would have to be now. One thing Ash had learned was that she had a good set of instincts, and when the ideas came to her head she simply followed them. Doing exactly that had saved more than just her sanity in the prison cell. Can't think about HIM now, focus. She had absolutely nothing to use as a weapon anymore, it had been made very clear on her arrival to keep everything out of her reach at all times. Except... the discarded pirate's shirt. It lay there on the ground, forgotten as she was in Vaas' temper. Slowly she inched her hand toward it, pulling it through the bars while carefully watching the man to see if he would look away from Scorcha to see what she was up to. He hadn't, didn't even turn when Ash moved behind him as she twisted the shirt into a tight coil. She paused only a moment more to draw in a breath to steel her nerves before her hands shot through the bars, looping the rolled-up shirt around Vaas' neck before yanking hard on the ends. It brought the pirate's head slamming back into the bars with a strangled swear while he immediately released Scorcha to try and free himself from the hold. Having anticipated this and knowing the man was physically far stronger than her, Ash had already twisted the ends together again and braced a foot against the bars, glad for the first time that they were built so sturdily, making it impossible for Vaas to slip his fingers underneath the garrote and difficult to reach back and retaliate. "The key, where is it?" That part was up to Scorcha entirely, even as badly as Ash felt for the girl in her wounded state. She'd ask for her wellbeing later, escape came first now.

Her throat had been tight, stifling the words that were meant to sound so proud and confident into nothing more then slightly hoarse whispers of a frightened and wounded girl. She'd gone too long without a drink of water and in this heat it certainly took her down quicker then she'd anticipated, but it was far too late to worry about those sorts of things now. She had come here on a mission without a clear purpose but only ultimate objective, the one hiding in that cage. There was no denying that she should have been anywhere but here, anywhere but traveling and wrestling down pirates three times her size. In her condition...such things were certainly suicidal...and maybe she really was. Maybe she was supposed to die and deep down she'd known it all along. Or maybe she knew like she was truly immortal, that no test of violence nor fatal wound would fell her if the blown from that revolver couldn't even do the job...maybe she really was a warrior like Dennis said – maybe the Goddess did in fact favor her. Maybe she had been blessed...but such wild ideas were just that weren't they? Ideas. Not meant to be acted upon nor to be taken as truth. Not that there wasn't such things as divine intervention, just in this case it seemed more like a divine prank. As there was no real explanation as to why she still breathed, the man's aim was nothing but perfection, no what it all boiled down to was the fact that she had angled herself in such a way...just enough... enough to earn herself mere millimeters between that bullet and her heart. That was why she stood here today, if this could really be called living at this point. By purest luck she stood here, a ghost form his past come back to haunt him. But she did anything but. No it was she who stood haunted here. And Sorcha found it harder and harder to look at him the longer they stood there, squared off like in those cheesy wild west movies. She didn't remember why she'd bothered to go for her gun anymore, she knew from the second he'd appeared that she had lost. This man had taken her out once...and he would do it again. But this time it wouldn't be so swiftly...this time he would take his time...because he could now, because she couldn't get away from him even if she tried to. But there was always that fighter in her, snarling right up to the very end of every argument, the same fighter then gave her the strength to hold that gun... but not enough strength to pull the trigger. Vaas is too great an opponent. You cannot defeat him as you are now. Dennis had warned her, but he understood her reasoning to leave now while the opportunity had presented itself. It was all he could do with all his wiseness, merely advise her of the dangers. Dangers that she had foolishly ignored until they were smiling right in her face. She had made a dire mistake coming here...but it was a necessary mistake. Yet even though the weight of the gun in her hand was very real she just couldn't. It was so easy she could barely stand it, he was right there, just yards away – defenseless even with that rifle in his arms. She could have ended him right there...all it would take was a single shot. But all she could think about was that room...that mattress. The memory alone frozen her in place and the pain coursing through her body served as the metaphorical ropes. She should have been able to end him...but she just couldn't. And when her gun was liberated from her by the man dutifully she gave him no resistance. What point would there have been? She was wounded and she was weak, she knew that he knew that. And perhaps that is exactly why he had put down his weapon in favor of his own brute strength instead. Why waste the ammo on a half dead woman he could just as easily strong arm under control? And when he yanked on her arm the pain was enough to drive her body towards him with a hiss and onto his lap. It had been bad enough facing him again being against his chest was perhaps even worse and ever fiber trembled as he pulled at the clothes she wore, somehow he'd managed to rip the pants off with just one arm but the shirt didn't come so easily with his iron grip on her hands. It was hard to look anywhere else but at him as he did this, even if he was the last thing she wanted to see in that moment. He had such intensity, concentrated so hard, all on a few articles of clothing that didn't sit well with his nose. He still smelt of sea water and cigarettes and she remembered him leaning against the reef rocks with his arm around Ashley for a second there...but when had that happened? Somewhere in the past, somewhere forgotten about. Maybe again for the best. But then fingers coiled around the strap of her tank top, ripping in downward and she sucked in a sharp breath through her nose, finally recoiling against his closeness but his grip only tightened further upon her wrist, leaving her nerves screaming as he tugged on her poor arm – reminding her that she was still very much wounded and she whimpered. Amber eyes snapped closed as the image of his approach replayed in a blurry haze. Each boot hitting the ground loudly, each step slowly and deliberate while her fingers clawed into sheets and she looked up to watch him kneel down at the edge of the mattress, smiling at her – almost proudly. You're gonna be a warrior now huh? There was something so dangerous in that whisper and her eyes had opened slowly in wake of the dulling pain and unconsciously they found the the barely visible tattoo inked upon her shoulder, she was so pale right now it was hard to see ...from a distance it might have been invisible but up close it was very much there. Sorcha had forgotten about it momentarily, for not even she rightly understood why that man had inked her up in her sleep...nor what he meant but it protecting her...what the word Tatau even meant. Dennis had been so very vague about the entire thing ...and she'd been far to out of it to rightly care – even now that thing impressed meant nothing to her...it was just a tattoo. Yet... Vaas seemed to take it's presence very seriously and she couldn't help but wonder just what was wrong with all of these people on this island. Well? Are you a Warrior The whisper was loud, as if hissed into her hear, He's going to hurt you again...if you let him. There was such cruelty in the statement, it made her blood run cold. Only because it was right...he...she thought he had once, and he would do it again too. Men like him...they only found satisfaction in the prolonged effect – they hardly lived in the moment. His whispers had left her tense and her nerves raw as movement from inside the cage drew her attention towards them for the first time, her eyes snapped away from Vaas' to look behind him – far too late for him to save himself of course but just long enough to offer some slight warning as to the going on's behind him. He was either very stupid or very bold to turn his back on Ashley like he had, even Sorcha knew that that was never a wise move. And in a split of a second the red noose wrapped around his neck and the pirate was pulled backward, firm against the bars. Her lips had parted in mild surprised...even though she had seen him coming sooner then he had – it still had its effects. She watched him as he swore and clawed at the rough, ratty fabric of the shirt – the impromptu weapon so to speak as Ash steeled herself with the cage itself behind him. Are you a lion....or are you a lamb? The voice was angry and in an instant her eyes widened as she shot forward, nerves igniting all at once and bringing her frightened body to life as adrenaline pumped through her veins. Leaping upon his lap she straddled him tightly as her hands dug into his wrists, pulling them from the garrote and from the bars, and with the strength of surprised she restrained him as he gasped and kicked beneath her body, watching as the light slowly began to fade from those hazel eyes, in the sunlight they almost looked yellow. Yellow-eyed demon. And when his strength faltered in her hands she released his wrists as his body came to still beneath her and she breathed out the breath she had been holding. Key. Where is the key? Her hands shot to Vaas' neck where a coil of many necklaces was hung, picking through them quickly but finding no key on any single on of them. She knew he wasn't going to stay down for long so she worked quickly...but no necessarily efficiently. Her fingers hooked beneath his shirt as she ripped it upwards, looking for any sort of longer chain that might have run down beneath his shirt and finally she slid downward, fingers yanking at the zippers of his side pockets upon his leg that produced only a bag of white power and a rock polished by the sea from one leg and just some lint from the impressed pocket. The left pockets produced an empty baggy that once had coke in it no doubt....either that or he was a fan of fun dip and worn out, beat up ten in American currency. Odd. And as her hand shoved down into his left pocket she hissed sharply as something stabbed straight into her flesh and quickly she pulled her hand out, finding the used needle having plunged about halfway into her finger. “Fuck!” She swore angrily as she pulled the vile object out and threw it into the ground just as angrily, who knew what the hell was on that fucking thing. She growled them, slapping the unconscious man violently before reaching – this time much more delicately into his left pocket to find the objects still hanging around inside. Her fingers closed over all of them as she pulled her hand out again, grains of sand falling out as she opened her hand to find a seashell, looked like maybe a hermit crab shell or a tube snails shell, a silver key, and a bone. Tossing the shell onto Vaas' lap she blinked for a moment at the bone as she pinched it between her fingers, “Is this....” instantly she dropped it, realizing the bone was human...and once was the finger of some poor soul. Why would anyone carry that around!? “Sick fuck...” She whispered as she rose from his unconscious frame and shuffled to the cage door. Glancing around quickly she lifted the heavy lock, holding her breath as the key was shoved easily into the lock and with one turn the padlock popped open. Finally she felt some relief as she pulled the lock from the rusty loops of the chain and dropped it into the grass as she swung open the cage door. “C'mon.” She motioned as she bent down to collect the gun from Vaas' person and pushed it into Ash's hands as she hurried for the forgotten rifle, also collecting it too from the ground. There was no such thing as too many weapons. No such thing.

While she had never been one to take pleasure in the pain of others, it would have made Ash a liar to say she hadn't gotten some sense of enjoyment from watching the pirate's body go limp finally with hers and Scorcha's combined efforts. The dim spark of hope had flared into a roaring blaze now as the redhead searched through the odd and disturbing contents of Vaas' pockets for the key to this cell. Was that a finger bone...? As Scorcha dropped the offending item quickly Ash's nose wrinkled in a mixture of confusion and disgust- WHY exactly he carried it was anyone's guess. A moment later the disturbing find was forgotten as Scorcha produced the key and unlocked her cage door, the elation she felt nearly making her laugh out loud. The gun pressed into her hands felt natural somehow, like it was meant to be there. Not as natural as the knife had, but that was easy enough to collect again. The knife. The first aid kit. "Ok... So I remember the way to that stage. We can sneak past them and go back through the jungle to that cave again. I left a first aid kit and a knife there. We don't have to jump in the river this time, though." Even as she was speaking, Ash wondered if the redhead was really hearing her at all. She just looked so pale and tired... She'd come all this way while injured to save her, a thought that tugged heavily on Ash's heartstrings. "Alright. C'mon." With a last disgusted glance in the unconscious Vaas' direction she pulled gently on Scorcha's wrist, careful to make sure it was the uninjured one. With as much of a disjointed mess the camp was, staying hidden was honestly far easier than it should have been. There were massive pallets of what Ash suspected was cocaine piled haphazardly along the dirt paths and boxes of God only knew what else stacked here and there, making good cover for the two girls to creep down the road. At a crossroads of sorts she paused, chewing her lip as she tried to mentally map out where they were now. To the right was the bar she'd been dragged along to by Hoyt, the sight of which gave her pause again as vivid memories of cold blue-green eyes and the smell of cigar smoke and cologne overtook her so powerfully it nearly stole her breath away. Again she had to shake herself of the unwanted mental intrusion to focus on the task at hand. The bar was on the right, so that meant they needed to head straight and double back. No way was she risking walking Scorcha back towards Vaas and potentially more men, not in her state. And frankly, she just didn't want to be anywhere near the man in case he woke soon. Although the laughs and shouts of the pirates could be heard all around, the path itself was still clear and Ash took the opportunity to bolt from their hiding spot to jog down the dirt road as fast as she could get Scorcha to go, making it about halfway down the narrower road before she pulled the redhead down behind a line of crates to keep a low profile behind as she continued to lead the way. On the roof of one of the buildings a sniper sat posted as a guard, though from the looks of him he was either asleep or just lazy, as he wasn't even holding his rifle at the ready. Can never be too careful though. Too soon their line of cover ended, but by then Ash could see the corner they needed to turn next. A quick breath to steel her nerves and she stepped back into the open to press against the rusted sheet metal wall and peered down the path. There was the empty tiger cage further along down the way, as well as yet another ridiculously large pallet of coke a little closer to where Ash and Scorcha stood. "Now or never..." Ash breathed out, urging Scorcha along as she headed for the pallet. In nearly the same instant they'd made it, a chorus of raucous laughter sounded down the road they were on, making Ash freeze in horror. Slowly she peeked around their hiding spot to find a group of men stumbling down the path, drunkenly laughing and jostling one another before coming to a halt to block the way. Goddammit... With a silent sigh she sat back against the coke for a moment, planning to simply wait for the men to leave. After what was likely only a minute but felt like hours, the men still weren't moving along quickly enough. As Ash glared down at the ground in contemplation, the possible answer to the problem presented itself in a simple little rock by her foot. It was unremarkable in every way, but the sight posed an almost cartoonish idea. Careful to keep her movements silent Ash snatched up the rock and again peered around the hiding spot. Still they stood there, not noticing her as she rose up enough to hurl the rock as hard as she could against the wall of a building further away before ducking back down quickly. It landed with a loud ping, startling the pirates out of their intoxicated revelry. "What was dat?" One of them slurred, to which his companions gave incoherent murmurs. "'Ey!" After a beat of silence Ash could hear the sounds of shuffling feet and she dared to check on them again, breathing out in relief to see them all ambling away, calling out to the source of the noise. "Let's go." Not daring to waste a second Ash bolted ahead, checking around the corner to find the stage mostly empty, except for two heavily armored men that looked as though they'd rather be somewhere else. This time Ash didn't hesitate to gather up another rock to throw opposite their direction, grinning to herself when both men turned to look toward the noise. Rather than go over with Scorcha injured as she was, she stole forward to duck into the crawl space below the stage, hardly even daring to believe their luck. At this rate they'd be out in no time at all and in one piece, more or less. That thought didn't last long, however, once she'd made it to the edge of what she knew was the gate. There was a small gap between the sheet metal and the ground, but nowhere near enough to possibly get under. And this section just had to be less rusty than everywhere else. "Shit," She hissed out, leaning her head against the metal in frustration. To her surprise it gave slightly on one side, and upon further inspection she could see where it had been poorly put together. If she pressed on the wall hard enough a gap opened up with just a simple touch. Given a little leverage... She placed her back against one of the support beams to shove against the corner of the sheet with the weak point, slowly but surely bending it outwards. "Oh my GOD!" From somewhere across the camp, a horrified shout could be heard echoing even from where the girls were. Without a doubt Ash knew exactly what the problem was, and doubled her efforts to create their escape as fast as possible. Finally the space was wide enough to squeeze through and she motioned Scorcha forward, holding the metal wider to make the injured girl's passage easier while keeping a sharp eye out behind them. Already the two men standing above them had stepped off the platform to stand at the road, clearly curious about what the issue was. The instant Scorcha had made it through Ash scrambled forward to do the same, hindered momentarily by a jagged edge of the metal catching her necklace. A present from her sisters some years ago that she'd never taken off, the sentimental value was far greater than its actual price. But... Survival had to come first. When the chain snapped Ash left it hanging there in favor of getting to her feet to begin their mad dash for freedom once again. - "...Boss! BOSS!" Groggily Vaas' eyes opened to take in the sight of several of his men looking down at him, concern evident on their faces. What the fuck were they looking like that for? And his throat ached something fierce while his head pounded, eliciting a pained groan from the pirate king. "The fuck happened?" Even to his own ears his voice sounded pathetically raspy and quiet, a fact that only served to infuriate the man. All at once it came back to him what had happened. Scorcha reappearing, discovering she had a tatau, and the little blonde bitch choking him out the instant she'd gotten the chance. He was sure he'd hear about that later with all the warnings he'd been given from Hoyt himself. What concerned him most, though, was the conspicuous lack of Scorcha or Ash. Anywhere. "Where the fuck did they go?!" He shoved to his feet, sending several of the men scrambling to get away from him. He didn't need to be screaming for anyone to see how livid he was as his eyes darted around wildly, looking for two girls that were no longer there. "What the fuck are you standing around for?! Start fucking LOOKING!!" "Spread out!" "Check the other one, too!" All at once his men scattered to do as he'd ordered, while Vaas himself stormed off after snatching away a bald pirate's rifle. Well if this hadn't turned out to be a hell of a day. His redhead had come all the way back from the dead to get inked up and steal back her blonde, not to mention see him. But something had been wrong with her. From afar he'd noticed it, but up close, when she'd kept him from fighting Blondie's chokehold... He'd seen exactly what it was even with his consciousness fading. She looked at him as though she didn't know who he was. She knew he was someone important that she'd met before, but the details were hazy at best. It was in the way she'd seemed almost confused by the sight of him, like she didn't quite know how to react. Which was good. Ultimately that would prove useful for him when he found her again. For a man with no formal education, Vaas was anything but stupid. He understood well how people worked most of the time, what made them tick and panic and cry. But this redhead, Scorcha... She was a little harder to read. Which he honestly liked, all things considered. Twice now she'd managed to elude him in some way, setting off what was to Vaas a very obvious game of hunter-hunted. And there were very few things Vaas reveled in more than a good hunt like that, especially with so sweet a prize waiting for him. But for now... He had to either catch the girls or make a very unpleasant call to his boss. His vote was on finding the escapees and pretending this all never even happened.

Truth be told, Ash's best friend hadn't been listening to her, not entirely anyway. Sorcha's mind had been elsewhere as the girl recited her escape plan – mostly to herself as if to reiterate that it would in fact work, that they would escape easily enough. And given the state of the men, whom had grow lax thinking they had done their jobs and could find a moment to be lazy and inattentive, that stupidly simple plan to travel down the same route they had days ago might just work exactly the way Ash envisioned it too. Sorcha knew this for a fact after all...she had quite literally walked by them in the most obvious disguise known to man and they barely even looked at her sideways. But as said before...the idea of escape was a thought so far out of her mind in that moment that it might have been confusing for the captive blonde. The blonde who couldn't understand what was really going on in Sorcha's head, because not even Sorcha knew it herself. That sense of dread still weighed down upon her shoulders as she looked back at the unconscious pirate she'd left there against the bars like a piece of trash. That was what he was right? Just a piece of trash? A bad man in a bad place doing bad things because he thought it was funny, because he could get away with it? The Scar of this Pride Rock so to speak. Just seeing him like that...it should have satisfied her something great but all in all it was a very hollowed victory. There were not trumpets to sound and no crowds to cheer...no one to hug her and tell her everything was ok. And even if there was...it wasn't ok. Nothing was ok. She felt him on her skin...and it crawled at the sensation. And for a moment she had forgotten why she had come here...was it really for Ash? Or was it this man that drew her back to this place? Was it his presence in a sea of lost memories that made her return here when all odds were stacked against her? The man who butchered her. The man who took her friends...who still had one of them even – but gods only knew where. This man who had forced himself upon her under purple and blue lights. He just lied there. Ready to awake up and do what he did best as any moment. Ready to wake up and continue to hurt more people and kill more innocents. And here she was...just standing there as Ash pulled upon her wrist, a gesture that Sorcha immediately thwarted by pulling her hand back. She didn't want to be touched, she was done with being touched, and it showed on her face while she watched the pirates chest heave up and fall down in unconsciousness. Sorcha has seen the people in Amanaki...who they tried to cling to what little piece they could find there in their run down little village. She had heard the way they spoke of the pirates and their leader, she had heard the fear quiver their voices. She had seen the damage done by these men. They had destroyed the happiness of this island, and so long as they all lived...these people would never be free. You won't ever be free. No....she wouldn't be. But when it came to the people...she could help them. But she would always live with these wounds...these broken memories, even long after they were all dead. Her torment would never end but the people's....it could end. If she just...slowly the rifle raised as she steadied herself, the barrel trained upon the unconscious man. But it's just too easy isn't it?. She could have ended it all. Right there. Forever. And yet her hands trembled as she watched him breath. You son of a bitch! He couldn't even defend himself! How was that fair!? No...it wasn't fair was it? What it was was convenient. What it was....was low...cowardly... it was cruel. A man did not deserve to die unable to defend himself no matter how vile he happened to be, that was her moral code. She wasn't him. She wouldn't stoop down to his level. And so she lowered the rifle and turned on her heels to follow Ash silently. Vaas would live to fight and die another day. It was obvious what their roles were as the two women stole down the pathways and crawled along behind pallets and stepped over all the trash that riddle the camp. Ash was the scout so to speak, the one quick on her feet to map out the path and decide if it was left or right without rightly knowing where anything truly was. And Sorcha was fine with this as she lumbered behind the blonde with her rifle armed and ready, eyes scanning the area for wandering enemies that might make unexpected appearances and or spot them at any given moment. She wasn't quick back up to speed yet, as she still nursed a wicked limp... but it was a far cry from the way she had been practically dragging her leg. And to be honest she was lucky still to have a leg at all...and her arm. The rot had set in thanks to her less then cleanly burial on top of the mass grave. Aside from being lucky to even be alive that was. Dennis had worked some black magic indeed to pull her back from that dark place she had fallen into and her recovery alone had been astounding. With wounds like hers...anyone would have been down for weeks and here she stood a week later ready to take on her enemies a new. Again the question posed itself, haunted her rather, as to why she was even here right now. Jiang Shi. That was what Carlos had called her, and she wondered what it meant. It sounded Chinese. As the laughter rang out so close nearby Sorcha pulled on the lack of her rifle as she tiptoed to the edge of the pallet on the opposite side of Ash. She could see that they were too busy dicking around to be gentlemen and get the fuck out of the way for a couple of escaped ladies like themselves...so if they weren't going to move then she would move them herself. Sorcha was ready to open fire upon them when the rock pinged against the wall loudly some distance away and she drew back behind the pallet, raising the gun against her shoulder as the men's attention was drawn towards the sound. That was for the best really. Subtlety was what mattered right now...not all out guns and grenades. But it didn't stop her from shooting Ash an eerie sort of look before they were one their way again. And once they were free of the encampment Sorcha was all too happy to return to the jungle's embrace. So much so that her pace had quickened as she held her hands outward just slightly, and closed her eyes against the sun rays – breathing in the scent of the jungle. A week ago these tree's had disgusted her as she tripped over their roots and was slapped by her leaves. But now the jungle was her savior, her protection, and inside of her embrace ...Sorcha felt unstoppable. Silently she motioned for Ash to follow her lead now. The cave in which she spoke of was just outside of Amanaki Village, given she wasn't exactly sure as to where it was...but if she returned to the place where she had died and retraced her steps back down the hill and to the big white tree's then the cave would not be far off. But the trip there was perhaps the tensest experience she had any memory of. Every part of her wanted to break down, to grab Ashley and cry into her shirt, she wanted to hold her friend and she wanted to tell her it was all ok. But she just couldn't. Just as she couldn't even speak...Sorcha simply did not feel like herself anymore...to put it all bluntly – she didn't feel as if she were actually alive of her own free will...rather...it was a forced existence that she struggled with every moment and with every tired breath. No. Nothing was ok. Nothing was ok at all. And all she could think about...was him.

- Though she wasn't quite sure what it was, it was obvious to Ash that there was a change in her friend. Scorcha had barely even said two words to her, and when she did manage to meet the redhead's eyes, what she saw scared her. Or rather, what she didn't see scared her. There was hardly anything of the girl she knew left in there, as far as she could tell, and whether it was because of the trauma or something running deeper than that, Ash couldn't be sure. But the change was obvious and in-your-face out there. What bothered her most was she couldn't even do anything right then to attempt to give some kind of comfort, not while they were still out in the open and exposed like this. The pirates were out for blood, she was sure, and the longer they stayed in one place the more likely it was they'd be caught. The change in the redhead did make the trip back to the cave more than a little tense, at least for Ash. There were a million things she wanted to say and ask, but none of them she could quite form into actual words. It seemed silly to ask if she was ok. Neither of them were ok, that much was obvious just from looking at them. When we get to the cave, she kept telling herself. When we get there I'll say something, I just don't know what yet. This time around, at least, she'd learned from the mistakes they'd made in their panic the last escape attempt. She steered clear of any bare dirt along the ravine, careful to only tread on the thick grass that sprang right back into place once stepped on. Their tracks had to be how they'd been followed so quickly last time, so now there would be none to follow. Overhead the sun beat down intensely, the heat managing to make it even through the thick foliage ahead, though Ash didn't dare stop for a rest now. If her mental map was serving correctly, they'd be coming upon the beach they'd washed up on before, and from there finding the cave was as simple as anything. The one in question she remembered had a few odd sort of spiky-looking yellow plants growing not far from the entrance, making it easy to spot despite the opening being concealed by the thick sheet of vines. Thankfully she had in fact remembered the surroundings, right down to the spiky plants. Inside everything was just as she'd left it... including the old bloodstains smeared across the cave floor and parts of the walls. The sight gave her a moment of pause, remembering that horrible night before she shoved the thought away. The downside to having a vivid imagination, she was discovering, was the terribly realistic flashbacks that would plague her occasionally like this, though with each one it became easier to pull herself out of them. The first aid kit she passed to Scorcha while she took a few seconds to look over the knife again. It really was a good tool to have in this place, all things considered, and she didn't need to scrounge up ammo or reload a blade. And in a way it gave her some kind of satisfaction to have this one small victory over Hoyt, even if it was something so simple as the game of keep-away this was. It didn't matter. What had been his was hers now, and with that in mind she tucked the knife back into her belt loop for the moment. "So... I remember the people in that Amanaki place didn't look like pirates. So I'm guessing that's where you got that. And that tattoo," She added, glancing at Scorcha's stained bandage and the spot on her shoulder where she knew the tattoo to be. "I'm thinking we head back there. It's safer than out here for sure." She rose from the cave floor to step back out into the sunshine, scanning across the jungle to recall what way she'd taken to get to the tiny village. It came to her easily as she remembered having made the trek for medical supplies, and before she knew it her feet were moving again. Thankfully by the time the village came into sight, the sun had begun to set and brought on some much-needed drop in temperatures. Already Ash's head was pounding with the onset of dehydration, as during her time in captivity she'd been given minimal supplies and partook of even less than what was provided. In an entire sprawling mansion full of vultures it hadn't seemed wise to take anything from them at all, but she'd needed water if nothing else. Now, though, there seemed to be a very good chance of receiving both as they drew closer. Outside the gate she hesitated, some part of her still incredibly wary of so many people after having seen the other inhabitants of the island. But Scorcha seemed to show no sign of trepidation, and with that small comfort she followed the redhead through the gate and into Amanaki village. "You have returned!" At the sound of the jovial male voice Ash tensed immediately, but something about the bespectacled Nigerian man that approached them set her at ease almost at once. "It is good to see you alive, my friend," He greeted Scorcha, laying a hand on her shoulder in a friendly gesture. "And you have completed your first task at hand. I knew you would. I am Dennis." This he directed at Ash, extending his hand to her now with the same air of ease as with Scorcha. After nearly a week surrounded by cruel faces the simple gesture as well as his gentle smile was almost enough to make the blonde break down in tears, though she doubted she had enough fluids in her to produce them. "Ash," She answered finally, having nearly forgotten she'd been addressed and accepting the handshake gladly. "Come." Dennis motioned for the two to follow him, leading the way back to the tiny hut he'd nursed Scorcha back to health in. "You both must need something to drink, and you must have that wound looked at again. I have no doubt it pains you. We have much to discuss." It was all Ash could do to keep her feet moving to follow Dennis, as she'd begun to look around at the village in a new light. Before she remembered being bitter towards these people, in a dark time when all had seemed hopeless to her. But now... Now it seemed like they were nothing short of a shining beacon of hope that she desperately needed, and none more so than Dennis. "You're the one who saved her?" She questioned, to which the Nigerian nodded as he opened the door to the hut for them. "I am. When I found her she was at death's door, but we were able to bring her back. She is strong. And so are you." At that Ash's eyebrows rose, but she said nothing to contradict the man as he handed her a water canteen that she drank gratefully from. Her, strong? How many times in the last four years had she leaned on Scorcha for support, when she couldn't manage on her own feet? Evidently Dennis saw the disbelief in her expression, because he nodded in confirmation of his own statement. "Yes. You survived in a place where not many are able to, and you made it back here to us. That is your victory." As he spoke he motioned for Scorcha to sit on the bed that had been hers the last week while he opened up a much larger and better-equipped first aid box to gather up the supplies he needed for wound treatment. "Both of you have cause to celebrate. You have conquered death. And you have conquered your fear." - "FUCK!!" With every passing hour Vaas only grew more and more agitated with his men's inability to locate the two girls. Every minute lost meant they'd be even further away, no doubt, and that lessened the chances of finding them He had some notion of where they'd gone... But with the Rakyat guarding the place so fiercely, even if they attacked the village tonight he doubted he'd find those girls. Not to mention he wasn't entirely sure that was where they'd gone, and if they HAD skipped over Amanaki and gone straight to Citra... Well, that was pretty much a lost cause, then. His men had attacked those gates for ages to no avail, and none knew better than Vaas how strong that temple was. No matter which way he looked at it, this entire day was fucked. His head still throbbed and his throat ached like a motherfucker, and he knew he was wearing some nasty marks if the looks he was getting were any indication. So far he and his men had scoured the island to every single corner he could think of, but he'd found nothing. The fact that the boys had chosen today to fuck around and get wasted out of their minds only made things worse, and it was like Vaas was screaming hoarsely at children half the time. Really fucking stupid children that couldn't do a goddamn thing right. Suffice it to say that when night finally fell over Rook, Vaas was in a royally awful mood. The one silver lining, of course, was his little redhead. Her image had stayed with him, following him even as he cursed both her and Blondie's existences while he tore the place apart only to come up empty-handed. "I can't fucking stand you right now," He snarled, to which she only shrugged. You'll like me better when I'm here. ...Well there was some truth to that. "Yeah, but you're a fucking bitch to track down. I KNOW where the fuck you went, it's such bullshit you're there." I know. I'm not staying for long, though. It's ok. Just relax. He breathed out a furious sigh, but slowly his shoulders did relax as he resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't going to find those girls tonight. "This is such BULLSHIT," He groaned out loud, pulling his phone from his pocket to dial the number of one Hoyt Volker while Scorcha looked on in bemusement. What the fuck did he even SAY to the man? Hey, that redhead bitch you shot came back from the dead, the blonde one got her hands on a shirt and choked me out until I took a nap, and then they both skipped off into the fucking sunset together. THAT would go over well. The thought was enough to make him snicker out loud even though the whole situation was most decidedly NOT funny. "Ahh... Fuck." Might as well tell it like it was, he thought bitterly as he pressed the little green call button. Red's alive and running around with the natives, Blondie is a vicious little bitch who is also running around, and he no longer had either of them. "Sounds about fucking right," He sighed aloud, to which Scorcha nodded. Doesn't it just, cher? -

Sorcha had spent most of her time during the travel reminding herself that she had won. Her first victory, her first bend in the Path, was to face down her fears and take back what had been taken from her. But if there was anything that Sorcha felt in those moments was everything but victorious. Even with Ash by her side there was still an emptiness in her heart, a deep void that always reminded her that her task was not complete. There was still one other that was still missing, still with them...somewhere. While another...she was sure that she had already failed to save him once, though she didn't remember it....she felt that he was no longer there with them and sadly she wasn't surprised. Looking at Ash gave her little comfort in those moments as she noticed every bruise and every cut, scrap, and scratch placed upon her. She didn't walk with confidence anymore and that happy glow...it was gone from her face and from her skin. Sorcha didn't want to know what that girl had gone through to get to here and now with her. But she did see the slight, fade, glimmer of hope in Ash's eyes when she looked at her through those bars – while she shook down the pirate king for his key. Ash really had thought she was dead...and truly she wasn't wrong. The only difference was was that she was still walking by some sick play of black magic she was still existing. But that was the price of Hell now wasn't it? All the eternal suffering of death without the satisfaction of truly dying. And really...had she died she would not have been at rest. She couldn't just give up on the people she cared for...on herself. Certainly not over only silly bullet to the chest. Of course it was easy to shrug and laugh off what had happened to her as if she'd merely tripped and fallen and scraped her knees...but the wound spoke a much bigger story, a more horrific series of events. A series of events that no doubt...were best to be forgotten. Yet Ash had to know...and maybe that was why she looked at her the way that she did. Like she didn't even know her anymore. Every once in a while Sorcha wondered that herself, did they really know each other? Or had she confused this girl for someone that she wasn't? She could not know for sure. She couldn't define what was real and what was fabrications anymore. Even as the returned to this so called cave and she looked upon the blood smears upon the ground nothing returned to her as to what had taken place here, not even as she took the shabby little First Aid Kit. Rather...Sorcha was having trouble coming to terms with the time wasted to actually come here...for something like this that there was already more then enough off back in the town and for that knife. Of all the things to find important...it had to be these things? Why these things? What was so important about them? Sorcha couldn't even bring herself to ask, already far too humbled to admit that she rightly had no idea what was going on here nor why. Such realizations would just scare Ash even more...and leave her feeling all alone and vulnerable. Ash seemed to count on her for a great many things, being strong was one of those things. So she couldn't admit weakness, nor fear, nor allow her pain to cripple her down no matter how intense it grew...and how intense it was by the sunset when the sickeningly cheery gateway was presented as the mouth of the jungle opened wide to welcome then. Amanaki That was how the wooden arch read in green, painted letters. Even more sickeningly so there were wildflowers planted upon the wooden bases where the arch plunged into the ground. And beyond it was the little town, so run down and pathetic, made of scraps and junk really. Yet the music played and the people danced around the fire beneath strings of lights....god those lights. Sorcha couldn't even look at them without tears burning in her eyes. Many of the people here were outsiders who spoke English, many from Australia and Asia. Immigrants who came to this island to trade and hope to make it big...but little did they know. This place was pretty lure for the stupid fish to bite hungrily upon...and be feasted on by the shepherds who pulled the string. She had been one of those stupid fish … but she obviously didn't taste all too good, she'd been spite out a mangled mess to rot on the ground. Yet in the midst of this nightmare there was always someone so selfless and full of life to come to the rescue. That man called Dennis whom greeted them as if he had been waiting for their return...or simple knew they were coming was that man. But Sorcha wasn't so certain that she trusted him anymore then she trusted the pirates and their homicidal leader. He had nursed her back to health yes...but he had also sent her out just like this as well, knowing she was far too weak and hurt, knowing she could very well die in her efforts. I guess that's what one would call 'having faith' ...but what kind of fatalist faith was that anyway? Perhaps the tattoo he'd put on her had something to do with it all...Vaas seemed angered by it....like it reminded him of something or someone he hated with all of his soul, like she had made the biggest mistake of her life by receiving it. While Dennis preached it to be a symbol of strength, a talisman of protection, the brand of a true warrior. It was some kind of tribal bullshit that had something to do with the island itself, and it left her with far more questions then she has answers for. And it let her wondering just what she had walked into...what she was leading Ash into even. And whether that was a road she truly wanted to travel down ...and most importantly what was waiting at the end of that road? Renewal....or ruin? When Dennis touched her shoulder she couldn't help but wince slightly, as the ink was still so fresh and her skin still sensitive from the process but she said nothing about it nor to him, all she could do was nod to tell him that she heard him but not necessarily understood what he was saying. She wasn't so sure she trusted even her ears anymore and as the pain welled up she moved into the hut and towards the bed, more so like a trained dog then a great and powerful warrior. Sitting down upon the mattress was a slow and deliberate process and she breathed out a held breath that felt like she'd been holding for hours it seemed. And again she was asking herself why she was here as her head tilted upwards to the hanging doll on the wall behind the bed. Every part of her was numb as she reached for it but instead of making it swing as she did almost religiously every day before hand this time she took it down from the wall and turning it in her hands she stared down at it. “I haven't conquered anything.” Finally she spoke and a quiet, rasp of a tone as fingernails dug into the red faced doll, “I could have killed him.” with that said she looked upwards, fixing the Nigerian with her eerily distant stare. “I could have ended it all...and I let him live.” Her voice had cracked somewhere near the end as she looked down quickly, her eyes suddenly burning as she blinked back the tears, “I let him live...” She repeated in a whisper, scolding herself for trying to be the better person above a man who simply did not care, a man who wouldn't be affected by her morals in anyway. And ultimately because of this...Sorcha had only dealt a brutal blow to only one person, herself. - While there was no denying that there was an evil sort of presence that surrounded the Rook Archipelago, none could have ever guessed by looking at it that it was indeed the stronghold of one of the worlds most wanted men with a soul as black as ink. And to be honest....that was why he had chosen it. It was quaint, pretty, charming and cozy – also it was in the middle of the fucking ocean and outside of army space and well traveled trade routes. Rook was completely and totally off the maps...and he made sure she stayed that way. Because she was his little cove of unsavory things, this was his little home. And no one was allowed to be there that he didn't invite himself in any of his many, vague and overt ways. But did Hoyt Volker truly enjoy living here? Of course not. He had come from South Africa, a land rich with blood, oppression, and cruelty. Africa was ruled by a tyrant as it were and all around the continent there was civil wars. Men fighting the system for freedom...others fighting for control and power. And then there were some who fought for the gold that Africa offered, blood diamonds. It made for a land submerged into chaos...and to Hoyt that was the only way to really live. But he simply could not do business there with the Presidents little wild dogs scouring over the place like the black plague and rebels liable to pop out of the ground like goddamn daisies and ruin all of his progress and hard work. So Hoyt did was any virus did once its environment was no longer suitable for habitation – he moved. And so it was here he found his home, on a remote island that was rightly dwarfed by it's sister island, the North shore island called Guanyin , after some silly or some other nonsense like that, where his top soldier ruled. Sometimes Hoyt wondered why he gave that man the biggest island... but then he always remembered that Malaysian cunt was also on that island, and Hoyt rightly didn't want to deal with her so he let her brother suffer her antics instead. Which ultimately amused Hoyt greatly in the end...even if it enraged him endlessly when it was his resources that got destroyed in the process. That was why Vaas was there. To keep that bitch at heel, apart from being his best little dog anyway. But...his dog wasn't without his annoying flaws and with all things in life...some things just didn't go as planned. Like the blonde girl, the one with the green eyes whom he had sent away not the day before. For days he had watched the cameras in her cell as his men brutalized her with their many merciless and militant tactics of torment and depravity. And yet...it was as if the girl was made of cartilage...rather then bones. She bent and kept bending until it was impossible to bend her anymore and then something amazing happened...she snapped right back into place and spit in the faces of her oppressors. True she screamed and she cried plenty during her stay here...but Hoyt was never satisfied the the results. He would come to her only to find her glaring at him with a look that he rightly did not like. That proud look of hers. It haunted him something fierce. Mainly because it was so familiar...half a redhead had given him the exact same look once. It made him wonder sometimes. But business was business and while little Scha'tzi was nothing short of a perfect little slave, Ash was hardly sellable...and time was of the essence. So he sent her to the one man he trusted to be able to break her down completely, Vaas. And as Hoyt sat depressed into his arm chair with a smoking cigar pinched in his fingers he was beginning to wonder why the boy had yet to call him. In fact...he hadn't heard a word from him in days – not that Hoyt was actually caring for his well being ...but it didn't go without notice none the less. The day had been long and as the sun sank upon the oceanic horizon Hoyt was busy staring blankly out the bay window of his office at the various small, ant like bodies roaming around his little concrete jungle outside that he called his fortress when a familiar jingle sang to him from his desk. Needless to say the phone never made it to a second ring as he reached back and seized the expensive looking object, fingers striking the answer button out of nothing more then memorization. “Vaas.” Hoyt greeted, with an affectionate absence of any sort of enthusiasm.

- "You did nothing of the sort," Dennis answered firmly, pausing in removing Scorcha's soiled bandage for a moment to fix her with a serious stare. "There is no honor in striking a man down while he cannot fight. The honor in a kill comes from honest battle, and the killing blow must be dealt with a knife. It is the way of the warrior." With practiced ease he carefully peeled the stained gauze away from the wound and set it aside, focusing first on cleaning it out with the antiseptic. In the meantime he kept speaking to give the redhead a distraction from the discomfort while he worked as quickly as he could while still being thorough. "Vaas lives because it is not yet his time to die. That time will come once you are ready, and you have walked your Path. Rush it, and the only one to fall will be you." While the wound still looked quite serious, already with the combination of the careful cleaning and frequent application of crafted medicine it was beginning to show signs of healing in the edges of the broken skin. "This is good. You heal quickly." Looking pleased with the progress, Dennis nodded in silent approval before applying the new gauze, this time layered a little more thickly than last to keep from bleeding through so quickly. In no time at all Scorcha would be healed up and at her best, and with the help of Citra she would be better than she'd ever been. She'd already received her tatau, and all that remained for her was to be set on her Path. "And you, my friend, I have something for you as well." At being addressed Ash blinked in surprise, freezing in the action of passing the canteen to Scorcha. She wasn't all that badly hurt, just scraped and bruised really. The worst injury she had was a simple cut on her knuckles from having learned the hard way not to hit a man in the mouth, and even that was only minor. Dennis motioned her over as he cleaned up the mess from playing doctor, now setting out a very different set of tools that had previously been tucked into the corner. In an art history class, Ash remembered having once looked at the Maori ta mokos, where the ink was applied by thin spikes on the end of one stick struck by another. It was exactly like that, and made absolutely no sense to her at all. As if in answer to the silent question, Dennis motioned again for her to sit before him as he started in on the explanation. Still wearing a look of utter bewilderment Ash rose from where she'd flopped down on the floor to instead take a seat next to Scorcha's legs, casting her a curious glance as if to ask if she knew what the purpose of this was. "As she must walk to Path of the Warrior, you must as well. You have already proven your worth just as well." As he spoke he dipped his fingers into one of the two bowls nearby, drawing out a fairly innocuous-looking greenish paste, likely plant based. It seemed innocent enough until he'd actually spread the stuff out over her left upper arm above the elbow, when the almost menthol-like smell it carried stung the inside of her nose as it began to make the affected skin get a pins and needles feeling immediately. "What-" "The area must be numbed in order to receive the tatau. Your friend, she was able to sleep through it. But you are not asleep." "But why? I don't get it. What's this got to do with a path?" Brows furrowed Ash curiously poked at the numbed skin after Dennis had wiped away the excess paste, only to find that it was indeed completely numb now. This bowl he set aside to bring forward the other one that Ash could now see contained a brown-hued ink that he immersed the needlepoints in before bringing them to the deadened skin to start. "The tatau is the mark of a Warrior. As your skills grow, it will grow with you. The heron, the shark and the spider are some of the guides to show you the skills you need to continue." Though she still listened intently to what Dennis said, Ash still watched in fascination as the man began his work on the numbed skin, resting her elbow on his knee to have better leverage. "How do you know what to add, though?" In response Dennis chuckled good-naturedly, pausing in his work to dip the needles back into the ink to continue the band beginning to form around Ash's arm. "I don't. Only you are in control of that. Find the guides that speak to you, and they will shape your tatau as you grow. You will see," He added with a smile upon seeing Ash's confused look. "You will find your own answers in time. Walk your Path." - Jesus fuck. As if Vaas hadn't already been dreading this phone call, Hoyt just had to pick up before it even got beyond the first ring. The man had been waiting on him to call, and for obvious reasons Vaas had avoided doing so until the last possible moment. Generally speaking Hoyt wasn't too terrible to deal with as long as he was in a good mood. And it wasn't hard to keep him in one generally, not with Vaas' quick with and biting humor that Hoyt for some reason seemed to find funny. But on bad days... That man was absolute hell. He'd never liked people getting in his face or raising their voices with them, and his boss had problems with neither of these things. The issue was when he couldn't simply rear back and strike him down, not when Hoyt really did give him every possible amenity he'd wanted. A fact that he never failed to remind him of whenever it looked like Vaas might just lose it and decide to do something foolish. There was literally no faster way to trigger Hoyt's temper than to be the one to tell him if something hadn't gone according to plan in even the slightest of ways. To be the one to have to tell him of this fuckup- for the second time, no less- it was a task Vaas didn't relish in the slightest. To top it all off the phantom image of his redhead had gone, leaving him sitting alone on the grass outside the camp. Fuck. With a heavy sigh he finally decided to just start off gently, not that it would make much difference in the end here. Hoyt was going to be furious no matter what. "So, look. Some kind of bad shit happened today." He paused before continuing, still entirely unsure of how to word the issue at hand without making things worse than they were going to be. "So... That redhead you shot, right? I guess she's not dead, because I saw her today and she was all patched up. I guess those fucking asshole rebels picked her up or some shit. And she was in the camp today. And I caught her near Blondie, right, and it was fine. But then I guess Blondie decided she was going to be a vicious little bitch because she choked me out and Red got the key." At this point the words were simply spilling forth from his mouth even though Vaas knew full well he was only prolonging the inevitable. "And Red, she went and got inked up. She took Blondie with her so I guess she's going to be too now. We've looked all over the fucking island and we can't find them anywhere. I still don't know how the fuck they got out of here, no one saw them leave or anything." Here Vaas came to a halt again, glancing back to his side where the phantom Scorcha had been as if hoping she'd reappear, but for tonight it seemed she wouldn't be returning. Fucking typical, I can't have nice things. "So that was the kind of bad thing that happened today." -

It was hard to listen to the Nigerian's reassurances, almost as if she knew it to be an utter lie. A lie that not even he knew he was telling. None of this place made sense to her anymore, and she felt that it would be just the same even with her memories. She'd come here for some reason...and ran into modern day pirates and that psychopath they called boss. Like it or not she and him had a history now, a history that she rightly wished didn't exist. But as if that wasn't bad enough...evidently people rose from the dead on this island and there was ghosts in the trees. While she didn't understand Dennis' beliefs about Warriors and killing with knives and these tattoos that would grant them powers...she didn't disbelieve entirely about there being magic here. She could feel it in every breath...she could feel it in her veins even ...but she wasn't so sure it was a magic that was entirely a good thing. Then again...what magic was when placed in the wrong hands? Slowly she breathed in as the Nigerian's words seemed to slam into a glass wall as he peeled away the bandages wrapped around her shoulder, revealing the deep and mangled wound left by the gun powered revolver that had once been aimed at her. It was truly amazing how she had survived the wound at all...much less to find the strength to crawl from the heap of mangled bodies let to rot in a depression in the ground. Never mind the bullet wound in her leg either. Dennis just took it all as divine intervention, like she was a gift from this island that sought to spare her life, because she was impressed by her valor and strength and good intent. Sorcha just called it lucky. Lucky in more bad ways then good. The only pro here was that she was able to save Ashley at least from a fate far worse then death... and the con's well they just continued to stack up like Mad Hatter's hats. Yes...Alice had definitely fallen down the rabbit hole this time...and she didn't know how she was going to climb back out again. But this place was anything but Wonderland. It was a trap, where the White Rabbit was painted red and wanted to gnaw on your bones and the Hatter wanted your flesh and your soul. Where the tea was poison and the Knave was your only beacon of hope in this dark, twisted little land...and he was completely mad. Sorcha wondered now where the Queen of Hearts was hiding and if she would want to chop off her head...and yet. Her thumb trailed over the red face of the straw doll still in her hands and she studied the markings upon it's face closely, in the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of her dark hair – shining a deep red in the dim lights of low burning candles within the shack and then her eyes passed down onto Ashley sitting just below her. Alice She thought, watching the girl attempt to offer her water to which her hand guided the canteen away in disinterest. She wasn't thirsty. Ash had been through hell and back and yet she stood there...drinking all of this up from Dennis. Yes she looked at her for guidance...but she wasn't her White Rabbit here. No... not at all. There was still such an innocence in those green eyes....and it sparked a deep sort of anger in her – an anger that confused her greatly. Even after everything she just sat there wide-eyed and enthralled in Dennis' silver words, just allowing him to do as he pleased with her as he began to imprint that vile sort of ink into her skin. Barely any resistance was given to him, barely a question asked at all. Sorcha knew it was unfair to still be angry with the girl...she wasn't any better herself right now. Just sitting there, watching this happen, saying even less. Dennis was, right now, the key to their survival and if he was willing to help them...then it was best to play along with his game – even if she didn't believe a single word of it. She needed him. And perhaps Ash realized the very same thing. But still ...the anger lingered there just beneath the skin. The illogical fury that was both calm and cold that only a Red Queen could possess. And slowly she rose from the bed, carrying with her the doll as her boots thumped upon loose floorboards as she stepped out into the cooling jungle air and the hymn of beaten drums. She had more purpose in leaving then perhaps either of them understood and slowly she crossed the clearing of the village as the natives watched her in bewilderment, yet endearingly none the less. She wouldn't look at them though, her gaze was set upon the great tree rise in the middle of the town where the trunk had been hollowed out into a sort of shrine. And as she approached it she lowered down to her knees, fingers taking one of the unlit white candles and guiding it into the fire of a lit one. Scha'tzi was still out there, alone. And she no one knew where. But Sorcha found some small comforting in lighting a candle for her as she hugged the ink beast doll to her chest and set the candle down upon the alter within the shrine. And then as if by some divine prank there was sudden vibration in her pocket that made her jolt. The phone. She'd forgotten about the phone...but how was it ringing? Blinking as her brows knit she reached into one of the cargo pockets to extract the smooth device and perplexed she looked down upon the screen and a caller I.D that read Benny. Couldn't be. Could it? Slowly her thumb glided the digital bar over to answer the call, silent as she raised the phone to her ear. 'Antonio? Are you there? ….hello?'. Slowly Sorcha breathed out, “No.” Came her raspy replied, and it was meet with a long silence on the other end, he sounded ...American? 'Who are you?' The man asked curiously, Where is Antonio?' “How should I know? You ever considered the idea he might just be dead, Benny?” 'Who the fuck is this?' Slowly she lowered the phone, studying the screen as she hung up the call with 'Benny' who ever the fuck that was. There was bars on the phone here and blinking again she punched the numbers upon its digital face, listening as the phone merely clicked and fell silent...no ringer. “Goddamn it...” She whispered as the bars quickly disappeared. - Hoyt was quiet as he swiveled back in his chair to continue gazing out the window as his men as they worked dutifully down below, carrying his shipments in from the North Island that had been kept upon the Astrid as well as leading his product to their respected quarters for more training so to speak. They all reminded him of the diamond miners he'd grow up amongst, all so dedicated when the pay was worth it...and not with the balls enough to cross him or make mistakes. That was how his men functioned here, they were all strong and resilient and above all loyal. They were an effective team always and they ruled the South Island with an iron fist. Here there was no civil war, no gun fights with rebels, and the civilians followed their orders to a tee. And in return they let them all live and continue with their lives. Here there was order and structure. And then there was Vaas. Vaas and his pirates. The difference in management was like night and day between the two islands. Vaas ruled with chaos and bloodshed, his men were incompetent meat sacks who hardly got anything done in any reasonable amount of time. Many of them were rejects of his own Privateers ...or defects who thought life would be better under Vaas. Others were mercenaries from of the southern hemisphere...and some just washed ashore one day and proved to be useful. Apart from that gaggle of strange faces Vaas also employed Citra's warriors who had decided to go dark, they were perhaps the only ones worth their weight amongst the Northern ranks. Yet amongst all of this it was Vaas himself who could prove to be the most useless, stupid, motherfucker he had ever had the displeasure of knowing personally. It was amazing to him sometimes how that boy had risen to be the greatest warrior amongst the savages. Of course Hoyt just chalked that mistake up to a server lack of standard in good breeding. And as Vaas tried to explain himself, Hoyt was already pinching the bridge of his nose in a total bewilderment. The redhead had lived? Impossible. Vaas had to have been mistaken, lied to by his own coked up mind into seeing these supposed ghosts that lived in this archipelago. And it had to be this incompetence that even allowed the blonde malaya to get the jump on him, of course Hoyt wondered how one little girl could down a man looking the way Vaas did these days. But Hoyt wasn't surprised to hear about that one, that girl was like one of those snails that could kill you with a single sting. 'There are a great many things I'm willing to tolerate Vaas.' Hoyt started, darkly, 'There are a great many things that I can understand, getting a cold...breaking a leg... And he paused, sighing, 'But please explain to me how you loose one little girl!? Just how incompetent are you!?' Hoyt had turned around in his chair to shout at his phone left lying on the relatively bare desk, 'You had ONE job Vaas. AND YOU CAN'T EVEN DO THAT RIGHT? ITS NOT LIKE IT WAS DIFFICULT WAS IT?!'. He didn't doubt he could be heard some distance away by now, on both ends and his blue eyes shot upwards – finding the huddled frame of the third captive in the corner ...trembling and sobbing in response to Hoyt's sudden anger. He had already found a buyer for her...but it would seem that that business deal would just have to be put on hold. And growling he puffed upon his cigar. 'You have three days to fix this Vaas. No more and no less. I don't care what you have to do. Find my product.'. And with a dull satisfaction he hung up the phone without allowing the Rakyat to try to further explain himself. Hoyt didn't care for his erratic explanations. The man made little sense when he wasn't in trouble...even less when he was. ** “Boss!” Benny shouted as he jogged across the field to where Vaas had seated himself, “Some weird bitch has Antonio's phone...and I can't find him anywhere.”

- Although Dennis' words seemed honestly beyond belief, something about the surety with which he spoke was enough to make Ash not just brush it all off as mysticism. "So... How do I know what I need to do on this Path, then?" At that Dennis smiled again, laying down his tools to inspect the band of ink adorning Ash's arm with a satisfied nod. "You will find the answer to that as well. But first, I think you need a change of clothes." Oh. As a matter of fact Ash did, and badly. The shorts and tank she'd worn carried bloodstains from dozens of people now, including Bryan's- a thought that threatened to make her choke until she shoved images of her late friend's face out of her mind. Couldn't think about that anymore, there was no room for tears here. "Yeah, I guess I do... Oh." Ash brightened considerably as Dennis pointed out the small pile of clothes on the bed behind her, and stood to sort through them. "I was not sure what would fit you or your friend, so you have much to choose from. When you are done, join us outside. There is someone you must meet." With a nod Dennis departed the hut, letting the heavy door swing shut behind him. Locating Scorcha again was easy enough, with the way the redhead stood out in their little village. But as he approached again, Dennis could see on her face there was something troubling the American as she glared down at the phone in her hands. "You won't be able to make any calls off the island, my friend," He stated with a shrug, motioning to a radio tower in the near distance that showed above the treeline. "Those make communications possible only in their limits. What troubles you?" He asked with a slight frown, noticing Scorcha still looked bothered by something. Third time's the charm. True to form, the third pair of jeans Ash tried on finally weren't too big for her and were in good enough condition that she didn't worry they'd tear so easily. Though they were slightly threadbare in the knees, they still worked just fine and satisfied her plenty. She'd already tugged on a dark greenish tank top in the pile of clothing that also seemed in decent shape, and was pleased to have found a pair of boots sitting at the foot of the bed. As with everything they were well-broken in, but they fit her well enough that it didn't matter. Her old ruined clothes she simply folded and tucked into the corner of the little table to dispose of later before exiting the hut finally. The night air was the same as it had always been, but away from the hell of the prison cells or the pirate camp Ash was able to actually breathe it in with something other than distaste. In less panicked light the village was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen, full of people who managed to make a living in relative happiness despite the hellish outside surroundings. While she still didn't quite understand the talk of the tatau and the Path or ways of warriors, for the first time in what seemed like forever now Ash honestly felt like they could make it after all. Speaking of they... Scorcha and Dennis both were simple to spot amongst the villagers where they stood at the base of a great tree that Ash now headed for, absentmindedly pulling her hair tie out to rebraid it. It was a silly thing to worry about, but in a way it gave her a sense of normalcy that had been lost for almost a full week now. "So... Who do we need to meet, then?" - Some weird bitch. In an instant Vaas knew exactly who had Antonio's phone, the realization of this making him laugh aloud. "Benny, man, I fucking love you right now," He sighed, grinning up at the night sky. "Don't worry about it. Ok? Look, the thing is, we got three days to find Red and Blondie, so I need you to seriously start tearing this fucking island apart. You get it? Three days go by and we don't have the product, and Hoyt comes back to my island. I don't LIKE when he's on my island." With that he waved the man away as Vaas got back to his feet, pulling his own phone from his pocket to open up the contacts list. It would have been so simple to just track down the location of the phone and head out tonight, but he had three days, didn't he? Vaas could afford to play just a little before he got to work. Pleasure before business was always how he'd looked at things, and it suited him just fine. There Antonio's number was. He'd debated calling, but decided against it after realizing his name was going to be on the caller I.D. His redhead probably wouldn't pick up. Or if she did, it would be to spew obscenities at him and they'd get nowhere. She might even just decline or ignore the call. And that just wouldn't do, Vaas was not a man to be ignored now or ever. Instead he pulled up a new text message menu, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard as he considered his words. After a moment they came to him easily, the thought making his smirk grow ever more wicked as he typed out his message and finally hit the send button. Hola nena. I'm glad to see you got a phone, I was worried about you. You shouldn't go places without having a way to call for help you know? Where did you run off to? Come see me sometime. In the morning he would head out to hunt the two again, he mused as he ambled his way back to his room considerably more relaxed. To make things better he did go ahead to check up on Antonio's- Scorcha's now, he supposed- phone location, bringing up the little map on his own to find the little dot exactly where he'd thought it would be. Amanaki. For fuck's sake, she really had gone and run off with the natives and that meant only one thing. Citra would be getting her claws into them soon, and while in Blondie's case the thought didn't bother him much... Scorcha, now that did bother him. His sister would ruin his redhead and poison her against the lot of him and his men before he ever even got the chance to play the game. And that was just some bullshit. Maybe he really would have to take that hunt seriously now, with that revelation in mind. None knew better than Vaas what Citra was like, how she could get inside someone's head and make them do her bidding with naught but a look. Vaas could still fix this, though. Of that he was certain, he just needed to act quickly. All he needed to do was plant a few seeds of doubt and Scorcha would do the rest herself. She was smart enough to question everything, and if he just said the right thing, well... She'd fix the problem all on her own. - Troubled. That was always a word that had followed her around her entire life. Always whispered on the lips of strangers who didn't know shit. And looked at her with pity while they pretended to care. 'That's horrible' they would say, 'Poor thing' the other would reply. And the funny thing was...was that they didn't even know her. They didn't know what she had been through nor what she was facing now. Sure they knew that she didn't come from a happy place exactly but they never rightly bothered to find out more. She, to them, was just another misfit to tally up the scores of passing faces each and everyday. They didn't care, they just said they did because that was the right thing to do. Society expected you to show kindness and generosity and compassion..but it was society who taught you how to be selfish, jealous, hateful, and self serving. Society taught you how to step on others to elevate yourself upwards and it didn't offer a net when you failed. So yeah...she was troubled and it wasn't hard to tell as she stared down at the phone. But she had no answer for the Nigerian in that moment. There were so many things that she wouldn't have known where to start even if she tried, yet in all honestly he really didn't have to ask such a silly question. She had been taken away from order and structure and thrown into chaos and destruction. One of her brood was dead...the other missing...and the third was a distant cry from ok, but she would never admit to it. She was from a concrete jungle where you didn't walk home alone and night and always kept your hands over the tops of your drinks at parties. She was from a land where you could say what you wanted to and could do almost anything. A land to which there were infinite possibilities but no easy paths to success from poverty. A place where the closest one got to the darkest face of the city was through the five o' clock news. But here... it was nature that ruled and it didn't matter if you walked alone in the dark or not...there was always something there watching as you went. Here there was no laws and there was no order, only anarchy and survival of the fittest. And Sorcha was anything but prepared. Even now she wondered still when she would wake up from this nightmare ...and yet that moment just never seemed to come. She naively wondered when everything was just going to turn out to be a prank and all the cameras would come out of the trees and everyone would laugh ...or cry maybe. She wondered when she would get to go home. With Ash and Scha'tzi....and Bryan. She wondered when all of this would stop being as real as it truly was. And when she looked upwards at the Nigerian...she knew. She knew this wasn't a dream...this wasn't a prank. This was all real...and she had lost at the game of cards. So...we would call it troubled. Yes. That was the gentle way of putting it. Troubled. That was a word she could accept from now on. And yet ...looking into those spectacle eyes of his she saw something that she had never seen in another human being before. Compassion. True and pure compassion, as if this shaman did actually care where others didn't have to time to. As if her well being was the hinge on some metaphorical door....and that look. It made her want to tell him everything she felt in those moments as the tears welled up on her eyes again and she looked away. But she just couldn't speak, how could she even start? She didn't even know for sure if what she thought happened actually had. And as Ash appeared from the shack finally in a new set of clothes, Sorcha's silence was cemented. Her own clothes were covered in her own sweat at this point...and they smelt of cigarettes....and low tide. And that was enough of a reason not to say anything about him. “Citra.” The Nigerian had replied to Ash's question as the phone in Sorcha's hands shook again and her fingers gripped tighter upon it as if to try to stop it's shaking as she looked upon the phones face. The bars had returned, no thanks to that tower over there, and a little letter bounced upon the screen. Really a text message? She thought, Benny's not very smart.... It was innocent enough wasn't it? But as her thumb hovered over the icon she wondered if she really wanted to open it, if she really wanted to see what some man named Benny wanted to tell her....or in this case this Antonio who evidently owned this phone before she'd taken it for herself. And as she worked up the courage to pressed down upon the screen she felt the ice cut through her blood as her eyes widened upon the digital letters upon the screen. Hola nena. I'm glad to see you got a phone, I was worried about you. You shouldn't go places without having a way to call for help you know? Where did you run off to? Come see me sometime. She stifled the noise of pain in her throat as she closed down the screen entirely by pressing the button on the side. And as the screen flickered out to black her chest was tight and her heart hammered as she slowly slid the phone back into her pocket with a shaky hand. Nothing could ever be so easy could it? “But not to worry, we will leave in the morning. You both must rest.” Dennis sounded so distant now as she rose to her feet in a haze, the colors having faded out of this jolly little place to muted and greyed tones and all she could see was that red metal door in the distance. “I'm tired...” She managed to choke out as she set a heavy foot down to start the trek back into safety, away from the wild open where a predator was following the scent of her blood, as the tears finally broke and rolled hotly down her cheeks. Yet as she walked that door seemed only to grow further and further away as the people all around her watched, their faces white and lacking any real features...their bodies black and limbs like spindles. Again and again she walked by these endless rows of faces trying to reach that damn door while each step grew heavier and heavier, each stride harder and harder as if she were moving through water...and then through thick mud. And then she was just too tired to walk anymore and with a choked whimper she dropped down to her knee's as the heaven's rumbled above her, as if moved by her sadness. Her hand had cover to stifle her cries, covering her mouth as sobbed upon the jungle floor as every part of her body began to ache, as if white hot nails were raking across her skin, an invisible beast clawing at her out of spite and hatred and want. And as she hugged herself so did the heaven's begin to cry as the darkness crept in around her, leaving only black imprints upon an even black sky as the jungle hissed and swayed around her. As the timbers groaned and the winds moaned a soft yet mocking tune and faintly through the howls there was the quietest of whistles. A tone so soft and comforting amidst the storm that raged around her as a pair of hands touched her shoulders and in an instant she straightened as the rain halted and the wind died almost in an instant. Get up. It was a order...not a request but the voice was so quiet, so like her own that it left her more confused then anything else and as those hands tightened and pulled upwards she rose with them as the sway of jungle tree's suddenly parted to reveal her path to her, a path in which this stranger pushed her down. It was a dark and twisty path that branched off like the roots of mangroves. The day will come when you will have to choose with path you will follow. “But how will I know what path to take?” She asked weakly, her voice exhausted as the grip of fingers dug mercilessly into her flesh. You won't. But you will have to choose none the less. And when you reach the end... you may just regret your decisions in life. That is what being a Warrior entails. “I don't want to be a Warrior then!” Sorcha protested as the figure shoved her forward as the ground crumbled before her feet, a sheer cliff face that lead down into darkness. You don't get to choose. The voice responded, sickly sweet in tone as its cold digits caressed her skin, Warriors are born by nature. Not made by man. You cannot choose to un-become what you have always been! Suddenly she felt one of those cold, dead hand strike against her back and her body lurched forward over the cliffs edge. And in and instant there was blackness around her. But not silence. Shuffle shuffle. That was what she heard as warm fingers touched her face and her body shifted, in the background ever so faintly she heard the whistle of Mickey Mouse ...the old black and white cartoon played through poor speakers it sounded like. Wake up mami, rise and shine and all that bullshit. She groaned slightly, as if in some kind of pain, as her eyes opened – blinking in the dimness of neon light of blue and purple as she turned slowly onto her back. There you are...how are you feeling? That voice, it brought a coldness to her skin instantly as she looked upwards at the focusing image of those hanging neon lights. In an instant she felt her heart stop as the ropes binding her wrists burned against her skin and looked in the direction of the voice at her side when his hand cupped her chin. There he was....sitting there next to her in all of his glory, his eyes dark under these lights as he looked down upon her neutrally. Instantly her eyes dropped to his bare chest, garbed only in the necklaces he wore and shot further downwards to his lower body, which he still wore pants...but the belt was missing and they were unbuttoned. “....no...” She whimpered, more to herself then anyone else as she noticed the red shirt that she wore....the only thing that she wore. It smelt of cigarettes and low tide too. Shh shh nena. Look Mickey Mouse is on...how can you be upset with that? She looked to the screen, the little cartoon mouse move across pixels in the distance...but it didn't make her happy. Not a single bit. Hey. He whispered, turning her face back to him, Did you really think you could escape me? He almost seemed to snort at the thought, at her gal even to think she even had a chance and Sorcha felt like she had finally woken up from the nightmare....woken up to an even more horrible one. The man chuckled then as he shifted his position, to a more relaxed position in which he leaned against his elbow. You walked right into the lions den right? The fucking lions den...and you know what? He paused as she blinked away the tears and looked elsewhere, I asked you a question. You know what? He repeated, his voice dark as she looked back at him. “....what?” She replied quietly. I bite. And as if he had just delivered the punchline to a joke that no one thought was funny he smiled in the blue hue, a sharp toothed smile that made her eyes widen as he growled deep in his throat. Then he lunged for her. Instantly she flew up from the mattress, which groaned and strained beneath her. Instantly she was back in the shack of Amanaki, eyes wide as sweat moistened her skin in the darkness where the candles had burned out. In the darkness she could see Ash curled upon the opposite bed, dead to this world as she breathed heavy and shook in her very skin. A dream. Instantly she rose from the bed, finding it hard to breath – as if the air in this room simply didn't exist as she hurried to that red metal door and slammed her shoulder against it, a shoulder which burned fiercely like a heat rash and shoving the door open she moved out into the crisp air of an early morning where the dawn was nothing more then a slight light in the sky. Instantly she could breath again as she drew in the cool jungle air and her fingers scratched upon her tattooed skin almost frantically. “Oh good Gods...” She whispered, looking downward to the blood soaked bandage upon her opposite shoulder and she tore the bandages off quickly. But what she found was anything but expected. Where there was a mangled wound the night before now was a more handsome wound, crusted over and already showing signs of fresh, new pink skin, and no sign of any infection anymore. “....what kind of voodoo is this?” She breathed in disbelief as she touched the wound tenderly. -

Although she was honestly curious as to who this Citra was, bed sounded like the best suggestion Ash had heard all day. She was exhausted both mentally and physically, and once she'd reached the hut again she all but collapsed into bed with a sigh of contentment. But even as comforting as the sounds and people of the pleasant little village were, sleep still did not come easily that night. Ash had hoped it would, after her week of forcing herself to function and fight on barely two or three hours of it... But even in the comfortable darkness of the hut she shared with Scorcha, oblivion proved to be difficult to catch. For the longest time she'd lain there, absentmindedly touching the bare spot at her throat where there had been her necklace for so long now. In the compound it was what kept her sane, thinking desperately of home and the girls and her baby brother she'd yet to meet in person. Now, though... She found only emptiness where the little heart had once been as she stared at the lone candle burning in the room, fascinated by the tiny flame's dancing in the faint drafts that blew in the room. She blinked, and found that the little flame had become into bright morning sun that Ash had to shield her eyes against as she turned away. Without having to look around she knew instantly she was back in Texas, standing in the middle of the dirt road leading to the farmhouse. Squinting in the sunlight she cast her gaze around, expecting to see the horses in their pasture and the sheep milling around theirs, but found both fields on either side of the road empty and barren. Even the grass that was normally kept lush and green for the sake of their animals was sparse and withered into practically dust. Ash's brows furrowed as she craned her neck to see where any of the animals had gone, her eyes stopping to rest on the house in the distance. Ash bolted toward the house, knowing somehow in her heart that something was terribly wrong. It took her far longer than it should have to reach the farmhouse as though it was moving further away from her as she ran, and up close the sense of dread only increased. Without missing a beat she bounded up the set of three steps in one leap to fling the door open, only vaguely registering that it slammed shut dully behind her. Inside the house it was deafeningly silent, the kind of silence that hung heavily over the place like a thick down blanket. Quiet was something the Cordell household never was, not with the size of the family and the livestock outside. It compounded the sick feeling growing in the pit of Ash's stomach, and more than anything she wanted to turn and flee the way she'd come. But... "Hannah?" She called out, her own soft voice sounding entirely too loud in the awful silence. When the oldest of her younger sisters didn't come forward Ash finally stepped further into the living room. A few more nervous steps brought her to the foot of the stairs leading to the girls' bedrooms and the baby's nursery, and a faint thud from one of the rooms captured her attention immediately. As she ascended the stairs Ash's heart pounded loudly, audible to even her own ears until she reached the top of the steps. Each of the prettily labeled doors was shut, and as of yet nothing looked out of place. Another thud, and this time Ash could tell which room it had come from. Her own room was the one at the end of the little hall, lettered in pink and dotted with various cartoon stickers beneath her name. Slowly she shuffled past each of the other girls' rooms, her eyes fixed on the handle to her own door. She breathed in deeply outside the door, her hand pausing a hair's breath from the handle. Every instinct told her to turn away, but she'd never wanted to leave her family behind for any reason. It had broken her heart to do it for school, even if it was for her siblings' good. A third thud sounded, and finally Ash swung the door open, finding it gave her no resistance to opening as it always had. She immediately wished she hadn't, her hands flying to her mouth in horror as she found exactly where her siblings were. Neatly lined up laying in her bed, eyes open and vacant and each with a knife in their throat in the same way Bryan had died. Hannah, Faith, Leah, Judith, Eve, Eden... Even little David hadn't been spared, cradled in the crook of Hannah's arm in the same state as his sisters. "Oh..." A wave of nausea nearly overtook Ash there, but a slight stir of movement visible through the haze of tears that had welled up gave her pause. In one smooth movement Hannah had sat up to regard her elder sister with her clouded-over eyes, and one after the other each of the other girls sat up as well. "You left," Hannah stated blankly, echoed in unison by her sisters. "No, I..." Ash choked out, shaking her head plaintively. "No, you knew I'd come back for you all. I promised." "But you're not coming back." Again the girls spoke in unison, each of their deadened eyes fixed on the horrified Ash in the doorway. "I want to. I just want to come home..." "They're not going to let you leave." A shrill, piercing scream sounded from downstairs then, making Ash's head whip around to face the noise. Scorcha. She turned back to face the stares of her siblings, only to find that they were now gone and the door was closing shut to force her back out into the hallway. Still Scorcha's voice screamed as though she was being tortured even as Ash bounded back down the stairs. "Scorcha?!" She shouted out, barely able to hear herself over the sound. Again something in her told her where to go without fully knowing why, but she nonetheless raced for the front door again to go back outside. Outside she froze again in incomprehension, staring out at the jungle laid out before her. A quick glance behind her and she could see the farmhouse was gone, replaced by the pirate's camp in the near distance. Which meant she had to run, and now. She could still hear Scorcha screaming from somewhere further off and she followed the sound, urging her legs to carry her faster. It seemed as though she'd run forever before she made it to a little clearing in the thick jungle, where the trees seemed to move in closer to trap her within. The screaming had stopped, now replaced with deep, wracking sobs. In the faint light Ash could see the huddled form of her redhead friend, crouched with her back facing the blonde as she sobbed and rocked back and forth. "Scorcha?" The question came out as little more than a strangled whisper, and at the sound Scorcha froze like someone had hit a pause button on her. Another moment and she resumed her crying and rocking, spurring Ash to advance. "What's wrong?" Still she got no answer when she stood barely a foot away from the redhead, and now on closer inspection Ash could see there was wet blood running heavily down the girl's back. "Oh God, Scorcha, what happened?!" The moment her hand fell on the crying girl's shoulder her head snapped up to look at her, the sight making a scream rise from Ash's throat. Just as with her siblings, Scorcha's eyes were lifeless and dead. In this case however they were full of animalistic malice as one of her bloodied hands clamped down on Ash's wrist tightly, yanking her forward as Scorcha lunged at her with a snarl. Her teeth sinking down into the flesh of her neck tore another scream from Ash as she fought to free herself from the vicegrip on her wrist, her other hand rising of seemingly its own accord. Too late Ash realized the 1911 was in her hand and aimed at Scorcha's head, and before she knew it she'd pulled the trigger. The crack of the gun echoed through the now-silent jungle as Scorcha fell to the ground in a heap, her eyes still fixed on Ash even in death. The blonde let out a shaky breath in mounting horror of what she'd done, her head shaking back and forth in disbelief. "No no no NO," She whispered, dropping the gun to press her hands to her mouth again. CHICA! Oh, God, she knew that voice without even thinking. One down and one to go, huh? Where the fuck are you hiding?! For some insane reason Ash just couldn't bring her feet to start carrying her away as fast as she could run, only managing to take halting steps backwards. It wouldn't have mattered if she had run anyway, with the trees growing ever taller and closing the circle they formed ever tighter. At least Vaas couldn't get to her... She took another step backwards as a gunshot not far off sounded, her entire body tensing when she felt herself bump into someone's chest. Cigars and cologne. She knew exactly who she'd run into the moment the combination of smells hit her nose and it made her blood run cold as the man chuckled. Hands on her shoulders turned her to face her demon, where he stood looking endlessly entertained by the entire thing. Are you frightened, ghali? The question was quietly spoken and laced with dark amusement as the Kingpin's eyes met Ash's own, one of his hands coming up to rest on her cheek. Before she could manage an answer Hoyt had leaned in to bring his lips close to her ear, as though about to impart some great secret. You should be. This time his voice sounded horribly distorted, in the kind of way things did when the pitch was lowered to make a voice sound like nothing more than a demonic growl. Cigars and cologne. Even after her eyes had opened the smell stayed with Ash in the dark of the room, where she'd curled up into a ball in the corner of the bed. After waking she found her entire self shivering like the temperature was below zero and her breath shallow like she'd been running. How long she'd slept she had no idea, but frankly she'd have been happier if she hadn't at all. She wouldn't have seen her girls and her brother... Oh God. She knew instantly she was going to be sick, and flew from bed after kicking the thin blanket off her to practically fly out the door. She'd scarcely made it outside before her stomach heaved and she lost what little substance had been there, thankfully managing not to make much of a mess as a result. Still she trembled with the memories of the nightmare fresh in her mind, and gave a huff of sardonic amusement as she spat the foul taste from her mouth. So much for conquering my fear... She thought bitterly, straightening up again to look around the village. It was quiet still in the early morning, and in the light of the coming sunrise it was beautiful. Of their own accord it seemed, her feet carried her to the base of that great tree again where she sat before it. No. She would conquer her fear, she decided. While Ash still didn't exactly consider herself religious, she did believe that things happened for a reason in some cases. There had to be a reason she was here and alive, and it was possible that Dennis had told her that reason. To walk the Path of the Warrior. It sounded like such a daunting task, and yet Ash found that she felt no fear. Rather, she almost looked forward to it, welcomed the challenge even. And in an odd way, sitting here at the base of this tree in an oasis in this godforsaken land, she found almost a sense of peace. Like there was a silver lining after all to this stormcloud. Her only worry then... Was how to get Scorcha to see it too. The change in the redhead was plain as day, and while Ash could have just chalked it up to being wounded and mentally drained, she could see in the girl's eyes that it ran far deeper than that. She hadn't been the only one with bad dreams the night before, but Ash just wasn't sure what exactly it was that plagued the redhead so. She'd have to ask when she saw her, even though she doubted she would receive an answer. Ash still cared deeply for the girl, and it was because of her she'd even managed to make it out of Hell both times.

#far cry #far cry 3 #fanfic #rp #oc #lions and lambs #vaas montenegro #citra talugmai #hoyt volker #dennis rogers #rook island

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maleficfiction · 10 years

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Lions and Lambs Chapter 4: Bangarang

"Swear to God, man, I'm gonna beat the fuck outta you," Vaas snarled, yanking the DJ forward by his shirt to bring their faces inches from each other. "Shut the fuck up." He shoved Doug back away from him, motioning with his gun for his men to continue on. "What the fuck ARE YOU STANDING AROUND FOR?! MOVE!!" He screamed, and in an instant the pirates ran forward like they'd been burned, with Vaas following close behind. Up ahead the moon was just light enough to provide some sight in the clearing, just so happening to illuminate two very familiar figures standing by the ravine.

It was hard to think, hurt to breath, hurt to look. Every inch of her felt like lead attacked to the sand beneath her as she lifted her head again to scan the beach for her missing companion. Almost unsure if anything that had happened had truly happened. Was it all just a dream? And had something actually happened to the boat...and only now she was washing ashore to the grim reality that she was stranded on his island? Were there actually no pirates here? Was that man just a crazy figment of her imagination after all? She shifted then, something hard digging into her side as her leg bent upwards as if to tell her childish thoughts otherwise and her eyes fell upon the blood soaked over shirt still wrapped around her leg and then to soaked pistol she'd managed to shove, and didn't even remember doing either, into the hem of her skirt at some point. Nope the pirates were real. Definitely real. All of it was real...in this Neverland. She saw Ash emerge from behind the rocks, looking frazzled. She supposed she couldn't blame the girl really. It wasn't her fault she reacted to everything like a normal human being...but Sorcha didn't have that luxury anymore. And she cringed as her leg slide back down, the wound still burned even now, like the bullet was still digging into her flesh like a tick or something. “Don't hold your breath...” Sorcha replied, breathlessly, “You might have yet.” There obviously was a very low chance of her survival at this point. As much as she didn't want to admit it, it was wounds like this that did everyone in in places like this where medical attention wasn't readily available. It might not happen tonight ...but in a week who knew where she would be. She'd already lost a lot of blood as it was...just wait until the infection set in. Just wait. Sorcha groaned then as Ash pulled her to her feet and she leaned against the girl more so then she had before as her body shook against the cooling night air, tongue sliding over her lips to taste the salt water left upon them. Didn't matter that it was bad for her...she just wanted one little drop of water that had been neglected to her. Her vision was blurry but she didn't dare tell Ash, she didn't want her to worry anymore than she already was and as they pushed forward into the jungle cover her thoughts were back at the camp and Scha'tzi. God...how could she just leave her behind like that? She should have gone back in for her instead of running from Doug like a bitch. She should have torn that entire camp apart until she found her. But no...we had to be bold and assault Peter fucking Pan in his own space. Yeah...cause that was a brilliant idea. That always went well. Her feet moved slowly over the jungle floor as her grip slowly weakened bit by bit from Ash's shoulders. Tiredness had set in and she blinked, trying to keep her eyes open. Everything was beginning to look the same, hadn't they passed that rock like five times already? She and wore that there was a monkey up there...laughing at them. But really...the one thing she wanted the most at that very moment was a cigarette. Just one last little high to take the edge off of the pain in her bones. She'd quit a long time ago...but if there was ever a more appropriate time to start up again it would have been now. “Ash....put me down...” Sorcha ordered dully, “You've got to leave me behind...you won't get far dragging me with you...”

Scorcha was only getting worse, that much was painfully obvious. The longer Ash carried her along, the more of the girl's weight she was supporting until she might as well have just been dragging her along bodily. This was bad, and only rolling further downhill. "You're an idiot if you think I'm leaving you," She replied firmly, glad to have sounded much more confident than she actually felt. Not in her own resolve to carry Scorcha if she had to, but whether she would even survive now. That was really beginning to worry her, there was so much blood everywhere now. "It's because of you I got out. I can't leave you. I need you to help me go back for Scha'tzi." Just thinking about the other blonde was enough to make her so sick at heart she could barely breathe. What they'd inadvertently doomed that poor, broken girl to, Ash had no clue. But she had to go back for her, just as soon as she had a plan. And maybe a gun or two. "Ok, we're stopping for a sec." She kept her tone light enough, but in truth the look in Scorcha's eyes scared the hell out of her. Glassy and unfocused, like she was gone already before she realized it herself. Like a zombie, almost. She couldn't keep moving her like this, that much was certain. "Just... Here." She slowly lowered the other girl into a patch of grass at the base of the closest tree, supporting Scorcha's back against the think trunk. "You rest for a minute." She'd started to get up to scout around, make sure they had no followers, but paused at the odd lump in Scorcha's pocket. "Don't mind me..." She murmured, gingerly reaching into the pocket to see what it was. A phone? Well shit, they could use a call for some help- if there were any bars on the damnable thing. Ash sighed in annoyance, swiping her thumb across the screen to see if there was anything at all of use on it. For whatever reason the camera app was the first thing to pop up, but that wasn't what caught her eye. What had was the little square displaying the last picture taken, and it looked almost like a map from the thumbnail. Because it is. "You're a goddamn genius," She breathed, nearly laughing aloud in sheer joy at the sight. Not once in her life had she ever been so happy to see a map, but right then it could have been the most beautiful thing in the world. Scorcha had thought to take a picture of a map before she'd escaped, instead of just bolting as Ash herself had. "Oh my God, I could kiss you. Hang on a minute, I'm gonna see where we are. You're BRILLIANT." With newfound hope she climbed back to her feet to jog toward the clearing in the trees leading back to the beach, all the while inspecting the map. Alright, so there was a big river and it lets out into the ocean, so where's that at? So we are now... Where, exactly? She squinted down at the map and glanced back up at her surroundings, quickly discerning where they likely were- and that was a town nearby. Amanaki. Well, that was good but there was no way they'd make it there tonight at their rate. Nonetheless, it was a spark of hope. "Scorcha!" New enthusiasm had her running back to the other's side, making the distance in no time at all. "Scorcha. Hey. Listen, there's a town not far from where we are. We won't make it on foot tonight, but if we find somewhere to hide out for tonight... I can take care of that a little better." She brushed her fingertips against the uninjured part of Scorcha's wounded leg, having realized she might not even be looking at her while she spoke. "And then tomorrow I can run in and get actual first aid stuff. Even if they're not friendly, I've got to be able to find something. You are going to make it, ok? We'll just... find a cave or something." For the time being Ash replaced the phone back into Scorcha's pocket, not trusting her own track record with losing things in the slightest. "Just hold on a little bit longer. And I really am sorry," She added as she ducked to again lift Scorcha. "But you're not getting left here."

Figures. Why would she have ever thought that Ash might actually heed her requests? When did that ever happen? That was what Ash's problem was in the end, she spent too much time worrying about everyone else when she shouldn't have. Sometimes Sorcha felt like she held others on too high of a pedestal and when she should have dropped the baggage someone piled on top of her she didn't...she just suffered through it until she tripped on her own feet. Then she had to come and un-bury her from the mess of a failed relationship where the other half just kept walking and totally forgot to look back to see if their other half was still there by their side. That was how Ash's relationships usually ended, every responsibility in the world left on her shoulders. Sorcha loved her certainly....but that Southern hospitality was killer and she just wished sometimes that Ash would learn to be a little selfish where it mattered. She wished she wouldn't worry like she did, just think about herself and what the best was for her in any given situation. Dragging her along like this? It wasn't best for her, it was the good thing to too...but good and right didn't always go hand and hand. And in this case...leaving her behind would have been the right choice. That was – if the pirates did find her they would only find her, and Ash would be able to run for help. But as it was going now...they were moving far too slowly and the pirates were closing in quickly...and they would find both of them again. Then all their hard work would have been in vain. But Ash didn't think about things like that. She was more concerned with the here and now, not like herself who thought three steps ahead in any given situation, always looking for the next way out and who was looking like he would do what if this happened there. She groaned as she was lowered down to the ground as Ash had instructed and she fell back against the rough bark of a massive tree. Looking upwards at it she wondered what it was as Ash's actions almost seemed to drown themselves out. “Yeah...I am. “ Sorcha replied lazily though she wasn't exactly sure as to what Ash was so excited about all of a sudden, she was too busy drinking in the canopy. Thankful to the gods themselves that she was finally off her leg for a moment. To be fair she couldn't really feel it anymore but none the less. Her eyes were heavy as they glided to a shut every now and then to the lull of the jungle at night. This was all just a fucking nightmare. “...there's a town?” For a moment the drowse subsided as the thought entered into her mind, completely blowing away her initial deduction from the top of the ravine. About the pirates choosing a solitary and abandoned island. “You mean like...with people?” She asked, lowing her head head downward, “What the fuck did they do....just take over this fucking place?” She thought about their leader again and his bombastic and volatile nature, strutting around like he owned this place. He would She determined, not a single doubt in her mind, and that wild dog of his probably helped do it too. With that thought in mind her mood only darkened and the idea that anyone living on this island was probably already dead anyway. And any town would have been sacked of any supplies by the pirates themselves. Once again she was reminded of how differently she thought from her friend...but Sorcha held her tongue. She didn't want to stomp on Ash's one sliver of hope – she needed that. Sorcha on the other hand...Sorcha wanted blood. “I can't...” She protested as the Texan hauled her back up to her feet and she sobbed slightly, pain ripping suddenly though her leg again. She couldn't. But she had to. And if Ash wasn't going to leave her then she had no other choice but to power through as quickly as she could manage. But it wasn't long before the unconsciousness couldn't be fought back any longer and it had only been a few paces in that the redhead suddenly slumped against Ash. ** Vaas' threat had held tightly onto the DJ and he had kept his silly mouth shut for the rest of the night. Cause he was no fool after all, he knew when to yap and when to listen. When it came to Vaas you only listened – you did not yap. But Doug couldn't help but to take the occasional jab at his dear mohawk toting friend. Especially when it came to things like this. Vaas was known to make mistakes sure, but on this level? It was almost unheard off. Not only had the bitch gotten loose she had made him bleed and she got away alive...well maybe. That blow to her leg might have not looked fatal but people died around here for a lot less, anything could happen. Yet Doug just ...wasn't surprised. There was always something about Sorcha that was magnetic in all the wrong ways, the way she looked at you just made you stupid sometimes. A lot so evidently, when it came to Vaas. And since that fateful jump from the ravine had turned up their dead pirate and a few bloodstains in the sand coupled with tracks...it was safe to assume that one of them had survived the fall at least. Of course any proper hunter would have noted two separate sets of footprints. One set running up the beach from the reef, where their man had been left ...cut open like a thanksgiving turkey for them to marvel at. While the other set was more of a body line up the beach from the shallows – from crawling. That one was definitely Sorcha, which only mean that Ash could be the one on the rocks....and damn did she do a fine ass job on their boy. Doug was impressed...but it was hard to be in good spirits with a raging bull ordering you about. Vaas had been raging the entire night as he and his men stomped through the jungle as quietly as they possibly could while angry. None of them had spoken much, only Vaas, who had to scream back at Hoyt over the radio, which gave up their position each time who then turned around to scream back at them. Doug could tell the guy was hurting badly, not that he sympathized any but he did feel like he needed to go and just sit for a while. But there was no rest for the wicked here and when their jungle jaunt was nearing midnight they were forced to circled around back to the encampment by Hoyt's order over the radio. When they had returned the man had been waiting for them with Scha'tzi at his feet, he had leered at them all in total disappointment while his teeth ground down upon his cigar. “Seeing as you all are so incompetent. I've arranged a little activity for you, Vaas, a little training exercise.” Doug couldn't even pretend to ignore the demeaning, superior, combatant tone that Hoyt took with his best warrior. “We're going to take this ghali for a little walk.” Hoyt added, his fingers petting across the bottle blondes head as she shied away from him, sobbing quietly. Scha'tzi had no idea what had happened during the night, only that there was a rukus outside that took Doug's attention away and that he had never come back. She'd been thankful for it and she had been beside herself every since, her skin was still crawling from the memory of it all. Left alone to wonder why she had to be the one to suffer through all of this and the South African had come to collect her – she was sure that she was about to die. The blow he dealt to her face had already began to whelt upon her cheek after he had drug her outside and into the cabana to sit with him and wait for the men's return. Realized then that neither her girlfriend nor Ash were anywhere in sight. She felt her heart sink a bit. “I do so hope you are not as stupid as your friends are.” Hoyt had growled at her at one point, but she didn't dare to answer him. She didn't dare to even look at them...except for one. Her big blue eyes had glanced upwards only once to spectate upon Vaas as he stood the proud leader in front of his pack. She saw the blood crusted upon his face and that one of his eyes was closed and that he stood more oblong then she remembered him to. She knew in that very moment who had done him and it brought a smile to her face as she looked back quickly to the floorboards before he noticed. Good job Sorcha. She thought, who else could it have been, he deserved that ugly mug of his after everything he had put them through. Killing Bryan and abusing them like trash. She hoped he learned from this, she hoped he remembered this for a very long time. And for the first time in this hell hole of a situation Scha'tzi was able to breath a sigh of relief. Her girls had escaped, and she knew that they would come back for her if she only held onto hope. But when Hoyt spoke of taking her for a walk that hope was quickly shattered. A walk? Something about was unsettling. “Lets go!” Hoyt announced then as he drew up off of his stool, snatching an assault rifle from the closest pirate and leading the way back out into the jungle. Scha'tzi was led just behind him by Doug who for all intents and purposes wouldn't look at her anymore. The the feel of his hand around her arm made her sick to her stomach. And it was not long before they had emerged at the mouth of the jungle and the edge of the beach. “Now...where did they run into?” Hoyt asked, his stance lax as he yanked the arming lever of the rifle in his arms, not like the trail of blood in the sand wasn't enough of a giveaway and making a satisfied growl in his throat Scha'tzi was shoved forward, stumbling down into the sand. “Here's the rules girl.” Hoyt explained, resting the rifle against his shoulder, “You are going to run, run like a little frightened deer that way. And my men are going to chase you, I want you to scream as loudly as you can and stay in plain sight. Are we clear?” Scha'tzi didn't answer...instead she stared upwards at him with a stare not too dissimilar to the one that the redhead had given him too. Well...he just couldn't have that. In an instant the rifle swung downward, the long barrel clipping the side of her face brutally as she cried and fell to the side. “ARE WE CLEAR!?” Hoyt shouted, and in and instant the little blonde was gone, flying into the jungle in a blaze of fear that only made him chuckle as he trained his rifle upon the ground just behind her. The rifle roared, peppering bullets into the ground that sprayed dirt and debris into the air, announcing the beginning of the games. “Go get her boys!” Hoyt announced, watching as the men shouted and ran forward in her wake. SORCHA! Amber eyes snapped open in the darkness, her body cold against the stone beneath her as her head snapped upward seconds later. The light at the opening of the cavern was scarce as she squinted out into the dark silhouette of the jungle in total silence. Her heart was hammering in her chest, awakening her within seconds from the dead unconsciousness she had fallen into only a few hours before it seemed like. For a moment she didn't know where she was nor how she had gotten there, the misdeeds of the night before having momentarily been forgotten thanks to sleep...but it wasn't the fact that her surroundings were unfamiliar that she was startled. She was startled because she thought she had heard something out there...something very important to her. But she couldn't be sure if it was a dream or her raving mind playing a cruel and sick joke upon her. “Ash? Did you hear that?” Sorcha asked into the darkness, looking around for any sign of the girl ...and finding none. “...Ash!?” She called again, more frantic to realize that she was in fact missing. Where did that stupid girl run off too? And then finally it all began to return to her. The talk about this town and Sorcha's hand found her face. “Oh no...” She moaned into her palm. Ash must have run off to that Amanaki place, by herself! ...that stupid, stupid girl! ASH Her sight returned to the mouth of the cave as gunshots echoed through the air followed by the shouts of men. “Goddammit...” Sorcha cursed as she hauled herself up from the cave floor, ripping the glock from the hem of her jean skirt. The shouts sounded close by and one was most distinct. It was Scha'tzi...and hell be damned if they were going to her woman from her like this...running through the jungle like some animal. Pain meant nothing in an instant as she bolted out from the cave and into the heating jungle air. “Scha'tzi!” She shouted as she leapt over roots that she otherwise should have tripped over and ducked beneath hanging vines in a frantic attempt to isolate the direction of the noise...but it sounded as it it was all around her. She must have tried five different directions with no lucky in seeing anything in the jungle around her that even looked remotely close to being alive....that was until something alive did burst through the brush. Instantly she recoiled back into a white barked tree behind her as a herd of deer tore through the jungle and scattered outwards at the discovery of her in a spook. She knew just what they were running from and as she yanked the barrel of the glock back to load the gun she ran down the beaten path that the animals had come from. “HELP!” Her voice was closer now then it had been and the roar of gunfire was almost enough to drown out her cries as the redhead ran across the jungle floor, spying movement in the distance finally. Quickly she dodged into the cover of a bush with large green leaves as she watched the jungle move around her and the sight of a red wifebeater popped out from the foliage. One of Vaas' men stumbled outward in a huff, pausing in place to look around for a moment when the sound of a different gun fired off and the man screamed as blood spurt from his kneecap and he fell like a stone. Sorcha bolted from the her hiding place with smoking gun in hand as she charge towards the pirate. “Hey...HEY! HERE!” The man managed to shout as the gun swung downward, shattering the dark shades that he wore, “Shut the fuck up!” She snapped angrily as she swept down to take the heavy assault rifle he had dropped. “Fuckers.... y'all going to die...” She hissed as she shoved the glock away and turned the assault rifle in her arms, pulling down on the leaver as it clicked. She hoped that meant that it was it was loaded. She paused then, taking in the clearing around her, knowing she would see nothing down here on the ground. They would see her first. Instinct kicked in then as she took a running leap onto the low hanging branch of another white barked tree similar to the last one. Now tree's was something she could do well and with fleet of floot she scaled up into it's branches, gaining a birds eye view of the jungle floor around her and all the scattered bodies on it. “Gotcha fuckers...” She whispered, searching for the bottle blonde herself, ready to shoot the first man that was too close to her.

There had in fact been people in Amanaki, an entire little village tucked away in the jungle and protected somewhat by pieces of sheet metal serving as a fence. She hadn't expected to find anyone but upon drawing closer, Ash could see the place lit up with festive strings of lights and could even hear what sounded like music. It was all so bizarrely out of place in this hell of an island that she'd almost forgotten where she was until the last second. Sneaking in wasn't even close to difficult, as most of the people were congregated around what looked to be a deer on a spit, all busy laughing and talking amongst themselves. It almost didn't seem fair that they looked to be living a relatively normal life, like they didn't even know this island was full of bloodthirsty pirates. It was only then did she notice that most of the men carried some form or another of sidearm. After that Ash had been much more careful to stay hidden in the shadows as she'd stolen into the tiny houses on the outskirts of the village. Three of them later and she'd found nothing until she'd wandered into a house already inhabited by a person. He'd been out cold, an empty bottle dangling from his fingers as he snored away, totally oblivious to the panicking Texan's presence. Before she could turn to flee from the house, her gaze had settled on the nearby table. There wasn't much, but the first aid kit and 1911 were more than enough to make this a worthwhile trip. There was even a little pouch of ammo nearby, and though she had no idea at first glance how much it held she took that as well. Her prizes in hand, she'd made a hasty retreat and began her trek back to Scorcha with her heart pounding, not even seeing the tall, dark-skinned man that watched her flee the village. ** At the mouth of the cave, Ash stared down in confusion at the empty floor. Maybe she'd slid back farther, to stay out of the brightening morning sun? "Scorcha?" She called out softly, kneeling to lay down the first aid kit and her stolen knife atop it. The gun... That she would keep in her hands just in case. As she'd been about to call out for the redhead again the sound of screaming made her jump, her head turning toward the sound. Without a doubt she knew that to be Scha'tzi's voice, screaming out hers and Scorcha's names. A bolt of awful clarity told her exactly where Scorcha had gone, even with her wounded leg. Damn it all. In a flash she was tearing out of the cave, swearing under her breath at the horrific luck of it all. How had Scha'tzi managed to get out? Surely they would have stepped up their security after their escape, to keep from losing the last of their group. Whatever the case was, it meant their missing friend was now here and she and Scorcha were both armed not nearly so well as the pirates. Better than nothing. "Ah-HAH!" Ash skidded to a halt at the sound of the thickly-accented voice, easily locating the advancing pirate in the trees. "I FOUND ONE!!" He shouted triumphantly, raising his rifle at the same time Ash's pistol rose. All at once she was 14 again with her father's handgun aiming at glass bottles on a fence, with the man himself guiding her through the mechanism of the shot. Both eyes on the target, easy on the exhale, don't yank the trigger. Give it a pull. At the same time the bottle shattered in her mind's eye, the pirate's head whipped back with the force of the shot and down he went, leaving behind a stunned Ash. She would have lost it right then and there with the man dead but a few feet away and her gun still smoking, but more men could be heard shouting and Scha'tzi was still out there. For the time being she had to ignore the horror of what she'd done to run toward the sounds, finding a thick tree to use as cover. She'd wanted nothing more than to run out and find the other blonde, drag her off into the treeline with her and keep going- but that just wasn't an option. She still had no idea where exactly Scorcha was, and she was still injured even if she had managed to get up. Adrenaline had to wear off sometime. The pirates made no effort to keep quiet, and judging from the shouts and gunfire she heard now, there were a lot of them. Speaking of which... Some of them were beginning to invade the jungle, correctly assuming that the other two girls would be hiding here. She wasn't entirely ready for them to find her, not with poor Scha'tzi still with them in pursuit. Foolish or not it just wasn't in her to abandon either companion, not while she had breath left in her. A sharp inhale to steel her nerves for what she would do and Ash was back on her feet, the gun back in firing position. It oughta be an extension of your arm, girly, THAT'S how you make a clean shot. Quit shootin' at sand and hit the mark. "OVER HE-" The first pirate's shout ended in a wordless gurgle as the bullet tore through his cheekbone. The second was considerably quicker than his fallen comrade, opening fire and sending Ash scurrying back for better cover.

The reign of gunfire was like a slow, building orchestra, with bombastic brass sections that drowned out the melody of sweet, sweet agony. Neither girl had any idea what they had run into, a clever trap laid by the Tyrant himself. It wasn't like it was hard really, women traveled in packs and they kept tight knit relationships, not always friendly ones though. These three girls were no exception to that rule. They were family, they looked out for one another, even more so now without the alpha male circling around them and providing them security...but not nessisarilly safety but being imposing enough to keep most danger away. Until something slippery got into the pool, like Doug. These pact animals always responded in the same way, like buffalo in the Savannah, when a lion grabbed one, they swarmed to protect their ilk from the predator. So put one into danger ...and watch their prey come running to them. It was a brilliant plan really but most of all it worked. And it worked very well. It was like a chain reaction, like domino – once the first block fell it was all over from there. Order devolved into chaos and inside chaos was where the Pirates functioned the best. The girls really had no idea what they had run into....what they cause already caused by their escape and their actions subsequently. There was a civil unrest on the island now and they were to blame for it, they had changed the tides in one fell swoop, and given birth to something much larger then either of them were aware of. But as far as tactics were concerned, no pirate was prepared to suffer what was coming to them. They ran through the jungle because they were told to, but they didn't think as to why, only charged after their blonde target and scare her as much as possible. It was a big game to them that they cackled and hooted over as they scowered through the trees with guns blazing. It was sickening just how little they valued the life of another human being, a weaker being too boot. It was cruelty at it's finest. But that was ok. You see...she could be cruel too. And if these fucks wanted to play, she was game. Sorcha limped across the thick outward stretching branch with her newly attained rifle held taut in her arms. She hadn't any idea how to use it or what to expect in force or recoil, not like the handgun which was for all intents and purposes the most convenient firearm for any newbie to manage. She wasn't all too familiar with guns but when you grew up in French Quarter ...you picked up a few street smart skills. But right now wasn't the time to lament of lack of tact. Now was the time to do what she did best, survive. It didn't matter if she was a woman and that there was more of her then them, that they had more guns and weren't afraid to use them. That any one of them could have easily dominated her and pumped her full of holes. One of her loved ones was at risk and hell would freeze over before the day came that she would abandon a friend in need. The redhead knelt downward then, training the sight scope onto three red bodies moving in tandem to one another, a formation across the jungle floor, as each one scanned his surroundings for movement. But they didn't think to look up and as they passed by beneath the branch Sorcha held her breath and pulled the trigger. The rifle erupted in her hands as a burst of bullets rained down upon the unsuspecting men as they cried out and convulsed into different directions, blood spattered the green jungle floor as they fell dead. The recoil of the rifle had been powerful as the butt of it rammed down against her chest, leaving her winded as she nearly fell backwards off of her perch. She wheezed in shock as lowered the rifle, her chest tight and strangled as she coughed and breathed heavily, trying to fill her lungs with air that just didn't seem to come. The feeling was horrible and it lingered as the sight of another body flew by the tree line, she saw the gray tee shirt and she knew instantly who it was. But there was another body in pursuit who flew past the gaps in the trees. “Where you goin? Huh? WHERE YOU GOIN!” She heard him shout, the oh so smooth voice of one DJ Raiden. Suddenly it didn't matter if she could breath or not and the rifle raised again with new resolve, aimed first onto Scha'tzi and waiting as she ran past. One....two....three. The shot rang out as Doug was flung backwards in a sharp, bloodcurdling wail as he landed brutally against the jungle floor. “OW SHIT OW!” He yelled as his hand flew up to his mangled shoulder and the redhead leapt from her branch, landing hard upon the ground and springing back up as she limped towards her fallen enemy. Beads of sweat rolled down his temples as the DJ cringed and whimpered, rolling upon the ground in pure and total agony as Sorcha came slowly toward him through the trees. “You...” Doug breathed as he caught sight of her, Scha'tzi frozen just feet away. “You fucking bitch! You shot me you stupi- AUGH!” He screamed as the heel of her foot slammed down against his wounded shoulder, digging into the wound mercilessly. There was something deeply satisfying in the act. “What? I thought we were playing a game of lazer tag with real guns instead? You know it's pretty fucking unfair playing 20 against 1. One with no fucking gun to fight back with!” Sorcha's tone had risen as Scha'tzi whimpered in relief and ran to Sorcha's side, grabbing onto her tightly. “I thought I'd even up the odds a little bit.” She could see the tears welling in his eyes as she barrel aimed for his face. “Stop!” Scha'tzi yelled, frantic, “Sorcha listen to me it's a trap!” Trap? “Of course...” Sorcha growled, why wouldn't it fucking be? Fuck. And she'd walked right into too.

Ash winced as the rain of bullets sailed past her head, showering her with bits of tree the pirate had hit instead of her. But he had to run out of ammo sometime- and there it was, a muffled curse and clicking of gun parts as her pursuer tried to reload. He never got to finish, as Ash popped back up from her cover to fire two rounds into the man's chest before bolting again. Where the hell is Scorcha? This is bad. The red shirts were literally beginning to swarm the place, and there was no possible way to fight them off like this. Especially not if she got caught out alone like this. "HEY!" Her head whipped around just in time to catch sight of the shirtless man running her way brandishing a machete, and like a machine her arms rose of their own accord to shoot him down as well. He hadn't been alone, Ash noted with horror, and she'd now attracted the attention of three more of the men kicking through a patch of brush. "Scorcha!" She shouted, forgoing her earlier thought of not giving away her position. That was obviously no longer an option, not with more of these men popping out of the woodwork left and right. She immediately regretted the decision to run the way she had as three more pirates came into view, though they hadn't appeared to see her. Before they ever could have seen her they each convulsed wildly in a spray of blood, like some kind of gruesome puppet master had yanked their strings. What-? "Got you!" With a yelp Ash found herself tackled to the jungle floor, pinned beneath a triumphant-looking pirate... Though his grin promptly faded when he realized the muzzle of a gun was pressed under his jaw. She squeezed her eyes shut against the spray of blood and gristle as she pulled the trigger again, fighting back a wave of nausea as she scrambled out from the dead man's form. The other two were quick to advance, though they both met similar fates to their first as Ash fired again, now barely able to keep it together for the life of her. She'd taken five lives in one day now, six if one counted the woman Vaas had made her shoot- she closed her eyes again against the thought. Couldn't stop to think like that now, had to focus on the perils at hand. Namely, having fired six times altogether now. Two shots left before she had to reload and she needed to make the best of it. A familiar shout behind her snapped her from her daze and got her to her feet in an instant, just in time to watch Doug tearing after a blonde girl. Scha'tzi! Without warning, his entire body was knocked flat by the blast from a gun much more powerful than Ash's own before none other than Scorcha herself leapt down from a nearby tree. With Doug... It didn't even bother her to see the blatant display of cruelty to his bullet wound. "Jesus, Scorcha, you scared the hell outta me," She breathed, making short work of the distance between herself and the two. "I don't- I don't even know what to do here." - Enough time had passed for the main chaos to die down. Vaas had sat here patiently enough, practically straining at the figurative leash but knowing better than to just charge in while his men went to work. Motherfuckers couldn't be trusted not to hit him while they were at it, but now... He jumped down from his perch on the back of the truck, whistling sharply for three of his men he'd kept behind to follow along. "NENAS!!" He shouted, leading the way into the treeline with his men in tow. "Where are you?" He motioned for the three to split up and head further into the trees, where there was no shortage of hiding spots for three scared escapees. "What happened?! I thought we were all having a good time together, huh? Come back now and I won't even be mad!" Of course he'd be mad. Why wouldn't he be mad, that redhead bitch had rolled him over one good. But... He doubted he'd have actually shot her. Raised his hand, sure. She had to know who the fuck was in charge here. Maybe even roughed up one of her friends some more. But above all she was what he was after. Honestly speaking, he had no clue when someone had gotten the better of him last. It pissed him right the fuck off, sure, but far be it from Vaas to turn down a challenge. He liked fighters. A bitch that just took whatever was dished out was just boring, it was why he hadn't liked his redhead's girl. Hadn't been terribly fond of the other blonde either, although she'd raised his opinion of her considerably with fucking up Hoyt. That redhead... Scorcha Drake. There was a prize if he'd ever seen one. "NENAS!" He shouted again, this time raising his borrowed pistol to fire twice into the air. "I'm pretty fucking good at this game. This is MY fucking jungle! Where the fuck are you going to hide, huh?!"

Doug had watched her come towards him with the slow grace of a jungle cat, marred by a bullet wound to the leg. The hunter had become the hunted, and his prey had become now his predator. He couldn't believe it. Out of all of them, it would have been Sorcha would would have put up a fight – but Doug didn't expect this much of one. It was like she wasn't even the girl he had brought here, the girl he had brought here was this sully and quiet thing who liked to mope around sucking the energy out of everyone around her. A girl who was too caught up in her own paradox to notice anyone around her. A girl who, though smart, just didn't get along with people all too well. That aloof loner type that somehow managed to find herself integrated into a life that wasn't for her. That was the girl that he dropped onto the beach, a girl that should have fought until she exhausted herself and taken one too many blows to the face before she lied down and took it. That was a woman that Vaas should have been able to handle without breaking a sweat, he always got the feisty ones – because he liked those kinds ...but he always broke them. Always. Why was this one so different? He saw it then. That dark and distant look in her eyes as she came closer and closer without a single word and that neutral expression. It wasn't a look he'd ever seen on her before but it spoke monuments about her. That girl he brought here..maybe she never existed to begin it. Maybe that was just a mask to throw everyone off so they didn't catch wind of what she really was. Doug always did wonder why Sorcha seemed so exhausted most of the time, like there was this weight sitting on her shoulders that she tried to pretend wasn't there. He knew because he had been there many times before he found Hoyt, found this island and befriended Vaas. He knew just how hard it was to pretend to be human. Well...shit... “Please! We have to run!” Scha'tzi begged whilst Sorcha stared down the barrel at him. “Don't kill him please!” Doug saw the shift in the redheads attention, that cold and calculating look of malice turned into a quiet suspicion as her eyes glided away from his to settle upon Scha'tzi azure orbs, so wide and fearful. Why did she want Doug to live so badly? After what he had done to her...why wouldn't she want him to die a horrible and blood death? It was obvious that in that moment even Scha'tzi wasn't certain whom she was looking at anymore as Ash's voice rang out and drew the blondes attention to her instead, “Ash!” Scha'tzi breathed out in pure relief, quickly moving closer to the girl whom was sporting a shiny weapon of her own by now. Sorcha' suspicious look found Ash too, settling on both blondes just a ways away from her. “Where the fuck were you? I wake up to gunfire and you're not there? And I scared you?” Doug snorted something ugly from the ground, and Sorcha's head tilted back to leer down at him. “Something funny Doug?” She asked quietly, “Don't lie to your friends baby. You and I both know – you feel anything but scared.” Click. Instantly Scha'tzi cried out in horror, hands flying upwards to cover her gaping mouth as Doug winced at the sound, eyes slamming shut in anticipation of the pound of the bullet through the chamber and into his fleshy brain. Sorcha mumbled something beneath her breath as she turned the rifle in her arms. Out of ammo. “You're a lucky many Douglas.” Doug had been amount to smile as revenge as his eyes peeped open slowly. The redhead threw the rifle into the grass beside him, pausing to watch him for a moment before her hand shot to her hip and ripped out the stolen glock from the hem of her skirt, violently yanking the barrel back. “Sorry I lied.” She stated, the gun set on it's target, just waiting for the squeeze of it's trigger. “Oh shit!” Doug cried, “Ash! Stop her!” Scha'tzi sobbed. NENA'S! Instantly the color drained from Sorcha's face as her lips parted slightly. Never in his life was he so happy to hear that goddamn voice. Never. He saw the girl's gun hand begin to tremble as her eyes left him to find the tree line in the direction of Vaas' voice. Come back now, I won't even be mad! He was close by. Very close by but she couldn't see him....she couldn't see anything. Instantly she hissed in a breath through her teeth. “Go. Run!” She said to her companions as she fled Doug's side, pushing the both of them in the opposite direction of the voice. “Goddamnit go!” She snapped when they hadn’t moved fast enough and seconds later the jungle was flying, Scha'tzi was the one to lead the way – small and fast while Ash was in front of her a ways. She was the slowest of the three but she would rather it be her that was gunned down first, at least it would give them some more time to escape. “HEY!” Doug yelled outwards towards Vaas' voice, “VAAS THIS WAY THEY'RE HERE!” Hoyt chuckled as he strolled along behind his wild dog who he could tell was getting excited, by the way he got more and more visibly irritated. “Well? Go and get them!” Hoyt stated casually, releasing his dog form his metaphorical leash to run and do as he pleased with his new toys.

“Scha'tzi!" Never had Ash been so glad to see the other blonde, even if the sight of the girl brought on a wave of guilt. It was almost hard to look Scha'tzi in the eye, especially with Doug right there and the knowledge of... Her thoughts trailed off as Scorcha addressed her, far more aggressively than she would have thought. What? Ash blinked in honest shock, having expected anything but anger at her for running out to find medical supplies. "Scorcha, I... I was terrified you wouldn't make it through the night, I went to-" Doug's words cut her stammered reply off, twisting her expression into a scowl. That boy just couldn't shut up for the life of him, and it was going to get him hurt. Hurt, yes, but shot in cold blood? Ash froze as Scorcha pulled the gun on the wounded DJ, her breath catching in her throat as the redhead really did pull the trigger. Empty. Her relief was short-lived, however, as Scorcha evidently had other ideas than Doug staying alive. "Scorcha no!" At the exact instant she started to move to prevent the redhead taking the fatal shot, a voice all four knew very well rang out. "Just leave him," She whispered hoarsely, eyes shifting from Doug to Scorcha. "Please." Go. Run! No one needed to tell Ash twice to run, and as soon as Scorcha had set off she bolted as well, checking behind her for Scha'tzi. She was much slower than her or Scorcha, but Ash still had a full clip left to reload with. If she was careful and quick enough, she could keep the other's back covered. "Go, go!" She urged, willing herself to move faster with Doug screaming for Vaas behind him. Goddamn that boy. Heaven help him if she ever saw him outside a cage again after this; Ash was going to hurt him herself, and badly. Her original plan wasn't going to work, that much was obvious. A few moments of panicked running and Ash had turned to check on Scha'tzi, only to find the girl a disheartening distance behind her. I can't just leave her. It's not right. You OWE her, running off to leave her with THEM. Gritting her teeth and attempting to steel her nerves, Ash turned on her heel to go back and pull Scha'tzi along as best she could. "Won't leave you behind again, I swear." She pushed Scha'tzi along, purposely slowing her own pace to stay near the girl. It was stupid. All logic dictated to do otherwise and to just sprint ahead, but... Ash couldn't. Not with knowing exactly what she'd left the bottle blonde to, and looking at her bruised face just made the guilt worse. She couldn't leave her to that fate again. - With Hoyt's nod of approval- not that he really needed it, but it looked better after his colossal fuckup- and Doug's shouts of his name ahead, Vaas set off into an easy run, coming upon the fallen DJ in just a few moments. "What the fuck happened to you, huh? You look like shit, hermano," He chuckled, bending to pat Doug's head. "It's ok, I'm gonna go clean up now. They went that way?" He didn't need the DJ's confirmation- not with the way the grass had been tamped down by three pairs of feet trying to get away from him. "Oye! Watch out for tigers!" He shouted in their general direction. There probably weren't really any tigers nearby with all the noise, but... They really were easier to catch when they were scared. "Vaas, I found one! Up he-" One of his men's shouts were cut off by the crack of a gun up ahead, making the pirate's brows knit in a mixture of confusion and irritation. Evidently his girls knew their way around guns, a factor he hadn't counted on at first. His question as to which it had been was answered upon passing by a clump of trees to catch sight of his dead man, and one blonde pulling the gray-shirted one along by her hand. On noticing him, the orange-shirted one's eyes widened and she shoved the other girl forward with a new urgency, hissing to her words Vaas couldn't hear from his distance. "Someone's got good aim, huh?!" His remaining two headed off to flank the stragglers, while Vaas himself scanned the jungle for a glimpse of his redhead. None so far, but- No, there she was. A feral grin spread across his face as he started off again, knowing he had the full advantage here over these girls. True, they'd proved to be quick and cunning. But at the end of the day this was HIS motherfucking jungle and his rule over it was undeniable. Vaas knew it better than he knew himself, and the thought of losing face for the second time spurred him on more than anything else. No fucking way was he going to be made the fool here.

It was getting harder and harder to concentrate as she ducked down behind a row of tree's that had suddenly appeared, reducing her sight on her friends considerably, only finding glances of them through the branches and hanging vines. Everything looked all the same and she wondered what she was really thinking trying to run through this mess. They could have been going in circles for all that she knew, and who knew what sort of frantic trail they were leaving behind. It was like trying to run from a bat in the dark...no matter which direction you went to it knew exactly where to find you – it could see you everywhere. But she couldn't just give up now could she? Those two girls were counting on her to protect them and she was going to – right to her death if she needed to. A bullet whizzed past her head then, spraying her with wood chips that scratched her cheek as she yelped and stumbled over something hard and jagged lifted up from the ground. Sorcha tumbled to the ground with a loud cry as her wounded leg slammed into the ground and paralyzed her in agony. “Shit!” The pirate whom had managed to move in behind her yelled as he leaped frantically over her, clearly not expecting her to have fallen down right at that second. Her head whipped back quickly to watch him face plant into a push only to cry seconds later as he rolled down a steep hill hidden by the tallness of the grass. The redhead could only blink in some sort of astonishment and realization that the terrain here was...well treacherous. Flipping around onto her stomach she groaned as she forced her body to stand again, a single step taking her down to one knee momentary as she grit her teeth. Happy places... She told herself over and over again as the sound of another shot rang out, causing her to jolt as she clamored back into two feet. Someone got good aim, huh!? She heard Vaas shout nearby and she breathed out in disbelief. How the hell did he manage to get this far so quickly? What was even worse was that she knew he wasn't talking to her either. Cursing she resumed her run, as a trail of red ran down her leg from the now soaked shirt that had once been a green, now a yucky looking brown color instead. And out she came into his sights again as she focus on the two blondes, running quickly to catch up to them as she turned back, firing two shots back at the blurred red figure still hidden within the trees. Damn that cat was fast. Really fast. She looked back to the two who ran in front of her, huffing as the pain in her leg only seemed to increase with each step that she took and amber eyes glided sidelong down the hill face hiding just beyond the reeds and then back at them. She knew they wouldn't go willingly...certainly not. “Hey!” Sorcha yelled to the both of them as she ran into them, arms wrapping around the both of them as she shoved both their bodies towards the hillside. Scha'tzi cried as she fell backwards, tumbling roughly down the hill side while Ash was to be the second to follow her down and Sorcha dropped to her knee again, hands dug down into the grass as she watched them disappear into the foliage. There was just one more thing to deal with and leering back she found him moving quickly towards her, well more like wobbling. She growled then as she shot up from the cover of the grass, leaping off an lifted root as she collided against his body. But it was like taking on a brick wall and she found herself bouncing backwards rather then throwing him off his feet. Her mind spun as she stumbled back, falling down quickly as her stolen gun bounced away some distance as her hand found her pounding head. That didn't go as planned. “...fuck...” She whispered, shaking her vision back into place before looking upwards at him and bolting just as quickly for her gun. - In a split second she found herself falling after having heard Sorcha's voice call her to attention suddenly. In an instant the sky was everywhere as she hit the ground over and over against with an increasing velocity. But had she fallen? The blonde didn't know and she had barely mustered a scream as the hillside stretched upward and she came to a heavy stop against a well placed tree. Scha'tzi whimpered as she rolled onto her side, feeling a wetness against the back of her head as she cried. “Ash!? Sorcha!” She called feebly as she drew up to her knee's. And when looking upward she realized what had happened...Sorcha had shoved them down the hill. But she didn't see her anywhere. “Oh my god...” She whispered, staggering up to her feet as she hurried out into the clearing just where the incline began. “Sorcha!” She yelled, “Sorcha come down!” Her fingers had knitted through her hair as she paced more and more erratically. “SORCHA!” She screamed, her voice cracking with emotion.

Vaas nearly laughed out loud at the victory so close at hand. The girls had been corralled into a corner atop a steep hill, which made catching them as simple as walking up to drag them off. At the last second, however... Seemed like Scorcha had other ideas. Of course she'd push the other two off. Couldn't make a single goddamn thing easy in this entire scenario, and frankly, that was another reason she was his favorite. She kept surprising him. Like now, when she didn't turn to leap down the hill after her girls. Instead she full-on charged him, popping up from the grass and catching him a little off-guard, honestly surprising Vaas with the amount of strength left in her. It hadn't been enough to knock him down, but damn if he didn't stagger back a few more steps than he would have expected. It had even knocked a bit of the wind from him, leaving he and Scorcha to stare each other down for the barest of seconds. He'd seen her body tense to run before she moved and he dove for her with a growl, already knowing she'd be going back for her gun. "No the fuck you DON'T," He snarled into her ear, lifting her bodily from the ground near her gun to shove her in the opposite direction. "You have any idea what you did here? Huh?" He asked, taking on the same eerily calm tone as he did when he'd addressed Bryan on the beach. "You have ANY idea what the FUCK you did?!" He demanded as his tone rose to a shout, sweeping his arm back in the general direction of where he'd come running from. It would be a lie to say he wasn't pissed, however much he favored the redhead of the group. Frankly, his face and nuts still hurt some, and she still had the nerve to charge him like that? Vaas couldn't tell whether the girl was brave, stupid or just plain crazy, not that it matter at the moment. "I owe you a LOT, nena. I don't fucking like disrespect, and that's what I get from YOU, from my fucking BOSS- but it's ok. I'm gonna relax. It's not a big deal. You are going to apologize for you and your bullshit, and then we're gonna go find your girls. Then we are gonna have ourselves a fucking sit down. Ok? You get it?" Before she'd even known what was going on, Ash's whole world spun around her as she too tumbled down the hill, landing none too gently on her back once she'd finally finished the descent. She groaned, pushing herself up onto one elbow to look around her. Her gun lay nearby, seeming mostly just dusty after her fall, and she dragged it toward her before trying to cough out a call for her friends. "Scha'tzi? Scorcha?" She glanced up, expecting any minute to see the redhead tumbling down after them... But nothing. "Scorcha?" She called again, pushing herself to her feet with a new flood of panic overtaking her. From the top of the hill she could just make out a male voice rising to a scream that could only belong to one self-proclaimed pirate king. "Oh shit," She breathed out, backing up to try and see up the hill. Both Scorcha and Vaas were out of view, which pretty much scrapped her first plan. Plan B. Plan B was stupid and Ash knew full well exactly how stupid it was, but it didn't stop her from taking long strides back from the hill, blinking the dizziness from her eyes as she glanced up at the daunting hill. She sucked in a breath before sprinting forward, leaping onto the most level part of the rocky drop to propel herself back up. Scorcha is still up there. Not leaving her behind, I said I wouldn't. To her own vague surprise she managed it with her momentum carrying her up the rocks enough to make it up the dirt slope, and she quickly found herself standing back atop the hill. One bullet, no more ammo. The pouch she'd stolen had been torn off at some point, Ash wasn't sure where exactly. But her one last shot had to count for something, and Vaas was standing right there. Looming over Scorcha until the noises drew his attention away. "Oh, shit, there you are. We were just talking about you." At the same time he turned to face Ash more fully, the blonde started to raise her gun again. "Fuck," Vaas swore harshly, ducking to rush the girl before she could get him first. The bullet that had been meant to go between his eyes wound up only clipping his shoulder badly, infuriating the pirate and horrifying Ash. Before she could even react he was upon her, dragging her forward by her gun wrist to seize the weapon from her. "You have any idea how fucking rude that was?" He asked quietly, somehow far more menacingly than if he'd been screaming at her. Ash gave no reply, finding herself mute with the furious pirate bearing down on her. "Fucking- You SHOT me. Where did this come from?" All at once his demeanor changed as he dissolved into snickers, yanking Ash along to collect Scorcha as well. "What the fuck happened last night, huh? You taught your girl how to be like you?" This he directed at Scorcha as he shook his head in something like amused disbelief. "Wooooow. Remind me not to leave you alone with any of my other bitches, huh? You know who you upset last night? Hm?" He gave Ash's wrist a squeeze to indicate he'd meant her, continuing without waiting for her response. "You kind of upset my boss, chica. You didn't give him any kisses goodnight, or nothing! And you stole his shit," He added with a snort, shaking his head again at the thought. "I got your back. We can all talk to him together, ok? Where the fuck is our third, huh? Can't leave her out, it's not nice." Once again looking all too pleased with himself, Vaas tucked both girls under his arm with a satisfied nod before looking around the area for the last missing girl. "Maaaami, where did you go?" He called, glancing down toward the hill with a grin. "Are you still down there? Don't worry, the boys are gonna come and get you ok?"

There was something eerie in the air as she stared upwards at him. That cold and inhuman look in his eyes was petrifying and yet he was far too imposing to allow for fear to take over now. She'd gone through too much to get this far, to save her girls, to get away from him. And all of it had thus far failed spectacularly. It was like this man was five steps ahead of her, shoving her back ten for ever single step that she took. From the moment she'd been thrown onto those reef rocks he had been there every second after, breathing down her neck, around every corner that she ran around. No matter where she was he was there ...taunting her....touching her. It was like he wanted something from her, but it wasn't anything simple like her body. If only it was that simple...but she knew better then that. She knew what it was like to be wanted only for sex, a man like that behaved a certain way, behaved like Bryan would. One minute charming and all smiles the next sully and snarly when it was obvious he wasn't getting his way again. But this guy...there was just something in the way that he looked at her. Like she was a toy, a toy he wasn't exactly sure if he wanted to eat when it stopped moving or not. And being in such a position was perhaps the worst place she could imagine. With no where to run to, no place of safety, and the only ounce of power was what she could pry out of his iron clad hands? Yeah it was looking pretty hellish right now. And a part of her wondered what would have happened differently if she hadn't attacked him and given him that limp and those cuts on his face. If she had give her body to him ….would she be curled up on that mattress right now shamed and alive …. or would she be dead in a shallow grave? Sorcha was never one to give up no matter what but every once in a while she knew when to bow out against a foe that was for all intents and purposes, far to great for her to handle. Yet still she went for her stolen weapon, she didn't even know why, she just did. And he reacted just the same. Powerful hands pulled her off the ground as he threw her back and she fell flat onto the ground again ungraciously, turning slightly onto her side just for a moment before she hissed slightly and drug herself back from him across the grass. She was waiting for it, the metaphorical pounce so to speak where he jumped on her and beat her senseless. That was what he should have done, from his side of things, for his no to good land of slaves and money he would have been justified in breaking her eye socket for everything she'd done. Yet he just stood there, bullish again, screaming at her. It was confusing and it showed in the way that she blinked at him. Why did he restrain himself so much? “....what do you want?” She asked quietly. That was when a hazy figure shot up from the hill and her heard turned to find Ashley standing there, a rush of annoyance over taking her to see the girl. Why...was she so stupid? The smallest of sneers had crossed her face as she watched Vaas beeline for her, obviously satisfied that she wasn't going anywhere...and truly she wasn't. Her leg felt like a cylinder block sewn into her flesh. Leave it to that girl to turn around and do exactly what she wasn't supposed to do. “Christ...” Sorcha breathed, not even flinching as the gun fired off and the man quickly seized her friend. Part of her felt like she deserved this lesson, when logic couldn't think about anything other then the pain. This is what happened when you didn't run you get caught and now ...this time? This time there was no escape plan. Because these people would be extra careful from now on. They would make sure that they would not even entertain the thought again. But no...Ash had to go around thinking with her heart and not her brain. Just run right back into the lions den why don't you? When was she going to realize she wasn't a goddamn hero? When she was sold to some man somewhere in the world and used as a pincushion? That girl really had no idea just how much trouble they really were in. This wasn't a game. The pirate came back for her then, his bandaged hand cupping beneath her arm and lifting her up to her feet. Sorcha cringed , biting her lower lip as his arm tucked around her waist and pulled her against his side but he held her slightly higher, whether it was to take the pressure of her leg or just to make her more uncomfortable she didn't know. “You should have run.” Sorcha mumbled into Ash's direction, void of emotion yet dead serious all the same. She didn't want to be angry at the girl. But it was so damn hard no to be at this point. She shifted in Vaas' grip, turning her arm back so that it could hook around the back of his shoulder and her fingers clamped around the strap of his wifebeater trying to find any sort of added support in his awkward position. “Got her boooooss!” A sleazy voice called upwards from the hill from a shirtless man as he chugged his own molotov with his arm laced around the petrified Scha'tzi. “Gon' bring er up ya?” He added, as if he really needed the order to do that and Sorcha's head dropped. Ow goddamn it! I hate this fucking jungle!” Doug's voice cut sharply through the silence as he battled through a thorny bush, a hand pressed to his bleeding shoulder. “Jesus fuck...” He swore again catching sight of Vaas, his stupid grin, and two of three girls in each arm. “Just how in the fuck man?” Doug couldn't even finish his sentence he was so angry at the entire thing and he came forward, stopping before Sorcha. “Bet you thought you were Rambo huh? You stupid whore.” He growled, “Fucking shot me...I'm going to get you back for that -” “What?” Sorcha asked in response as her eyes opened as if disturbed out of her sleep. Doug sighed, “I said I-” He was cut off again when Sorcha rose her head, staring at him for just a second before she slammed her head against his nose with a sickening crack, causing the DJ to reel back in a swarm of vulgarly as he grabbed his bleeding nose. “Fucking bitch!” “Am I Rambo now bitch!?” She snapped, pushing slightly against Vaas' arm.

And again... Scorcha was right. Ash should have run while she had the chance, and now stuck right back where she'd been before she almost wished she had. It would have been easy enough to hide Scha'tzi somewhere and figure something else out. "You didn't jump too," She answered quietly, shrugging halfheartedly. "Wasn't right to just go." Which she did still firmly believe... But that didn't make it a smarter choice nonetheless. Her heart only sank more as a thickly accented voice called up to Vaas, not needing to use names for Ash to know exactly who he'd meant. Now what in the hell do I do? She had no knife, no gun, no nothing anymore. She knew Scorcha was irritated with her from how she'd spoken to her, which just made the whole thing somehow worse. She'd never liked when the redhead was upset with her and had always done what she could to fix the problem, but now? Ash inwardly cursed herself for having pretty much handed herself over to these people again after Scorcha had fought so hard to get them out. Frankly she had every right to be annoyed with Ash and the blonde knew it. Escape wasn't going to be an easily won battle again, and it was all Ash could do for the moment to just watch and wait. Something, somewhere, had to give her an opportunity. With Scorcha's squirming Vaas tensed at once, ready to subdue the girl again and hurt her if need be this time, but burst into a fit of snickering when he quickly realized she was holding onto him for support. "I'd carry you, but I think your friend here wouldn't hang around if I did. Fucking STOP," He added in a snarl at the blonde, who had apparently snapped out of her daze and set about trying to shove her way out of his iron grip. "I am not in the mood for any more of your bullshit, chica. Cut that shit out." He really wasn't in any mood for it, that much was true. His shoulder still bled freely where the bullet had clipped him and hurt just enough to have him on edge all over again, even with his prize tucked safely away in his other arm. Which, he realized, was the one currently bleeding all over Scorcha. "Shit. Sorry nena. I'll clean you up later, ok?" He'd started to say more when Doug's complaints rang out loudly from the treeline, which honestly helped his mood by a good bit. There was always something satisfying about pulling off something that another man couldn't do. "Hola hermano. Good to see you on your feet again. Say hi." He nudged Scorcha's hip with his own and nodded in the DJ's direction. Just how in the fuck man? "I'm just that fucking good I guess. I dunno." Vaas shrugged, his grin back in place. Not a bad end to a shit day, all things considered. Even Doug getting up in his girl's face didn't bother him so much, it wasn't like he was stupid enough to try anything with him standing right there- but evidently Scorcha didn't mind making the first shot. Vaas didn't even bother holding back his laugh as the DJ staggered back with blood spewing from his nose, though he did tighten his grip against Scorcha's struggling. Funny as hell or not, he still wasn't about to just up and let her hobble off. Am I Rambo now bitch?! "Oh shit," He chuckled, shaking his head good-naturedly. "That was really really nice. And I love that fucking movie like you wouldn't believe. We can watch it later if you're good, ok? You should probably not do that shit anymore though, huh? You're gonna get yourself into trouble, and I worked so hard to forge a bond here. C'mon." Still openly amused by Doug's plight Vaas started forward, for the most part carrying both girls along with him. One of whom because he doubted she would be able to do it on her own after running on a bum leg, but the other just wouldn't quit fighting him and digging in her heels every step of the way.

Sorcha hadn't noticed that he'd been bleeding on her, not that it mattered, there was already a sizable pool of soaked cargo pants from where her leg had been brushing up against is while he hobbled along with both women under lockdown. Sorcha knew that maybe if the both of them began to struggle against him that he wouldn't possibly be able to hold tight onto them...but what for? What was left of his men had wandered out from the woodwork and congregated within the vicinity, drawn to the silence of the jungle which singled the chase had ultimately ended in one fashion or another. And it was obvious how impressed his men were with his obvious victory, having grabbed both women evidently on his own, yet they all didn't seem too surprised either. Like they had seen them many times before, she she believed that they had. This was this man's career right here, hunting down poor young women and selling them as slaves. Sorcha wondered what had have to had gone so wrong with a man to make him so unfathomably cruel and indifferent to the likes of human life. Maybe they were just a promised sum to him, a few stacks of green to send on his drugs and his cigarettes...just a warm sack of meat to play with for a while before shipping it off to the next cannibal. Yet he never had answered her before...only looked at her like if anyone knew the answer to that it was her. But maybe she really didn't want to know the answer. The world was truly evil wasn't it? All holed up in the states it was easy to forget that things like this happened, that there was more then just vandalized cars and tags on city streets. She heard him laughing again, that little giggle of his that drew her attention back onto him. Only because it was unsettling to hear. And she blinked at him before replying, “You would.” Of course he's love that movie. He probably got most of his moves from that those movies, she personally hadn't ever seen one all the way through. Too much sweat and testosterone then she was willing to swallow. But she kind of regretted it now. Maybe she'd have been able to outsmart him easier if she had suffered through Stallone's meat sack films. But idea of watching anything with him...well, “But I'd rather shoot myself in the foot.” She had mumbled, sully in his arm. “Thought we was gonna make a movie huh?” Sorcha added with a whole new level of coldness, “How's your nutsack?” The tree's had moved in front of them as two heavy gunner types lurched through the foliage, creeping forth like true predators with guns held tight in his hands and a third man behind them. The thin man with the nice suit who thumped across the jungle floor oddly calm considering the fact that he of all of these sweaty pigs seemed like the one who would have bitched about this jungle. But instead that person was Doug who had lifted his shirt upwards to wipe the blood away as Hoyt strolled into view, eyes locking on the two women caught in Vaas' vice like grip. Well...seemed the boy had retrieved them like he was ordered to so...no harm done yes? “Every time I see you you get just a little bit uglier.” Hoyt commented with a short chuckle to Doug's new bloody disposition before he looked at her and the trail of blood running down her forehead. He knew who had done it to his Spotter. Who else? Hoyt was quiet then as he looked over Ash, barely a scratch on her and then to Scha'tzi as the runner drunkenly pushed her rump up the rest of the hill, causing her to fall onto her stomach before he stepped up and scooped her weak form up from the ground. So there it was, all three of his prizes had been recovered. But Hoyt was hardly pleased. Slowly he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am disappointed in you girls.” Hoyt started quietly, “You all have caused me quite a bit of trouble. Cost me men and resources with this little impromptu field trip of yours.” His dark eyes glided upwards, scanning over all three girls. “Vaas, do you know what I do with ...spoiled product?” He asked his second, noticing his bleeding shoulder with curiosity. The smell of fine cologne drifted into her nose then and slowly she looked upward to find Hoyt looking down upon her, “I dispose of it.” He finished slowly as his thumb glided across her broken lip, “You should have let him fuck you.” He added vulgarly and passed by his red shirted pirate to address the green eyed blonde. “And you...I don't know whether to be proud or angry.” A lanky finger had stretched out to twirl a locket of her golden hair around his digit. “I wouldn't have suspected you of such bravery... wasn't worth it was it ghali?” His tone was still so quiet and cold, “And I'll be having my knife back.” He added as he turned to leave her, walking slowly back towards the path. “Lets go men!” He announced, commanding them all to follow but suddenly stopping not put two steps later, “Oh and one more thing!” He announced, pivoting back as a large silver revolver emerged from his blazer. The bullet tore through her before she even had the time to blink, cutting through bone, nerves, and flesh as Vaas was painted red – damn near part of the through and through himself as the redhead was slammed against his arm with a sharp gasp. Instantly the color faded from the jungle as the sounds of Hoyt's shouts were a distant muffled garble as red spat from her mouth and instantly her legs gave out beneath her from the force of the impact. Taken down to the ground for the umpteenth time she coughed as her eyes scanned the canopy in the purest confusion, a trail of thick red blood sliding down the corner of her mouth as she looked at the pirate who appeared quickly above her...but she couldn't understand anything that he was saying as she reached upwards towards him, her limb shaking in weakness as Scha'tzi collapsed down at her other side, hands slamming down against the wound in her chest as tears streamed down her face. “Let her be a lesson to the both!” Hoyt yelled, as he pointed the revolver towards the gargling redhead, “To all of you who so much as entertain the thought of crossing me! You will all end up like that girl down there!” His eyes landed upon Ash then who had been quickly seized by one of his gunners as he stepped towards her and rested the barrel of the revolver against her forehead, “Am I clear?”

Oh. There was another face Ash recognized and upon seeing Hoyt, her struggles came to a complete halt. He was definitely not someone she'd wanted to see again and yet there he was, strolling along like he owned the place- which, she supposed, was because he did. Something was off though, she could tell just from how the man held himself. She would have expected anger of course, but this quiet seething fury just didn't sit right. Ash would have expected more shouting or even violence from him at this point, or even to pull another knife on her again, but he didn't do any of those things. To make things worse even Vaas had tensed some as if he knew something bad was brewing and it just heightened the growing panic in the blonde. Hoyt's little speech, though... That was absolutely chilling her to the bone. It was that tone of voice he kept, it was speaking of worse to come without saying so. Spoiled product? He'd been watching Scorcha as he'd said it, but to 'dispose of it' like he'd said... Surely he wasn't going to gut her here. To her immense relief he didn't, just brushed by the girl after saying his part to her. Of course he'd come over to her, though. Every single muscle in her body had tensed with his proximity, expecting violence at any given moment. I don't know whether to be proud or angry. I wouldn't have suspected you of such bravery. Wait, what? At that Ash blinked in genuine surprise, forgetting even to flinch when he reached toward her to toy with her hair. More than anything that man confounded her and pretty much threw all what she thought she could read in people right out the window. And I'll be having my knife back. That, she had been waiting for with no small degree of dread. Hoyt didn't seem like the kind of man to take kindly to having his things taken away from him. And it wasn't as though she could give it back now, with it sitting neatly atop a first aid kit in a cave elsewhere. When he'd finally moved away Ash was equal parts relieved and confused. That was it? With that kind of an entrance and demeanor she'd just been waiting for him to slice someone apart or something. But no, he just shouted for his men to get moving again and setting off. One more thing! The words put Ash back on edge immediately, even before Hoyt had turned back around and she'd seen the revolver in his hand. Somewhere in the back of her head an insane little part recognized it as a Smith&Wesson shortly before the man fired. She'd of course never been on the receiving end of a revolver of that caliber, hadn't expected it to knock back the entire trio the way it did. She wasn't even sure what had happened exactly, only that Scorcha, Vaas and her all began toppling back and she took the opportunity to shove away from the man. It didn't take long for another man to catch hold of her, and it was only when she was standing back some ways away that she understood whose blood currently painted Vaas. "No no NO!" Without thinking at all she tried freeing herself from the gunner's grip, resorting to kicking when her arms were restrained with little problem. Hoyt's words didn't even register to her until he was standing in front of her again, the revolver he'd just used to murder her best friend now pressed to her head. She stilled again, though this time it wasn't fear that made her do so. This time it was cold fury like she'd never known in all her life, all directed at the South African holding her at gunpoint. There was no doubt in Ash's mind then that she'd keep fighting, if for nothing else than to make things a little more difficult for him and his bloodstained pirate king. And in one fell swoop, Hoyt had just taught her everything she needed to know about this place and how to keep alive. Am I clear? "Yes," She finally answered coldly, matching the man's glare evenly. It wasn't as though he and Hoyt were particularly friendly, not by any stretch, but not once had he pulled a gun like THAT on Vaas. He swore harshly, as the gun wasn't aimed at Ash like he'd thought it would be, but either at him or... He got his answer a split second later when the bullet ripped through Scorcha, very narrowly missing Vaas himself. The impact knocked him right off his feet along with his redhead, sending the two crashing to the ground in a messy heap. The blonde had taken the opportunity to get away, not that Vaas cared right then. "Fuck, are you kidding me?!" He demanded of no one in particular, leaning over Scorcha's quickly fading form to do... something, he didn't know what. Wasn't like he could save her now, like Scorcha's girl was trying to do. Damn it all, Hoyt would choose to shoot his favorite of the bunch. "Goddammit, you weren't supposed to fucking DIE," He snarled down at the girl, looking for all the world like a pouting child until Scorcha surprised him by reaching for him. Did she even realize who he was? Didn't matter, it wasn't as if he was going to hold her hand or some shit while she died. His boss and his men were standing right there, fuck no he wouldn't just outright display weakness like that over some bitch. He hadn't forgotten that she'd screwed him over and made him out to be a fool in front of everyone just the night before, and frankly he WAS still pissed about that. Still... He glanced up to see Hoyt busy threatening the other blonde, nodding to himself as if answering some silent question. With him busy Vaas took the moment to wipe off the blood pouring from Scorcha's mouth, though it didn't make much of a difference with the constant flow. That was just a goddamn shame if Vaas had ever seen one. The one that mirrored his own self out of the group and that was the one that had to get capped. He sighed and straightened up, dusting himself off as best he could in his blood-stained state to look incredulously at Hoyt. "What the fuck was that? You bitched at me all goddamn night to find them but it's perfectly fucking fine for you to shoot one?!" Now he was just pissed once the injustice of it all had occurred to him. He had screamed at him all night that Vaas was losing him profit as well as time, and when he HAD Hoyt's profit all cuddled up to him, he wanted to shoot her? And not even the one that he SHOULD have shot, in Vaas' opinion, but the one that he'd favored. Typical. "What the fuck kind of logic is that?!"

- The tyrant was feeling pretty goddamn proud of himself by now as the girl gargled one last time before her hand dropped to her chest and the blonde collapsed against her body a wreck. She was done for that one, which made his life a whole lot easier. What had once been three miscreants was now quickly reduced down to one. He didn't expect Scha'tzi to come to her senses any time soon and that worked find for him, it would only speed of the process. And he nodded towards one of his men to collected the girl from Sorcha's paling corpse. “She's going to need something for the pain.” Hoyt stated eerily in regards to the sobbing blonde who protested being taken from her little girlfriend but did not fight the man who picked her up. It might have sounded almost comforting, that he was concerned, but they all knew what he actually meant. He didn't just hand away women in sober states of mind. They had to be broken first! One way ….or another. And in this case...this was quite the unconventional way ...but hey it worked didn't it? That was ultimately why Hoyt had shot that pretty little redhead. She was a problem, a rotten apple in the orchard who would poison the rest of them. It was obvious what she was capable of, her fearlessness had downed her one Pirate King – the goddamned scourge of this island and a night's worth of freedom with her little friend there. That was something for the books, no slave had ever managed those two things in a single night...rather no slave had ever been able to best his hound either. Which ultimately left him suspicious of Vaas' abilities but he wasn't the main concern right now. The main concern was nipping the problem in the bud before it branched out. Sorcha was quite the leader and her boldness was contagious, after all it had sparked something in his little southern belle. Something equally as dangerous. There was a lesson to be taught her... a hard lesson. But Hoyt wasn't all to convinced that it hadn't bounced off a stubborn Texan's head. It wasn't like it went unnoticed the tone she took with him. Like that defiant little child he knew she was. Telling papa exactly what he wanted to hear so she didn't get the belt again. He had seen this before, he had been that child. He knew she was one of those children herself. Nothing escaped his attention...not anymore. Not after what she had done. “I could fry an egg on your head couldn't I?” Hoyt chuckled, reveling in her anger towards him, “Next one I shoot won't be you girl. Best make your next moves very carefully.” Hoyt turned then to face down his snarling dog with a harsh glare. Vaas always was a temperamental sort of lunatic....and was the moon shining bright tonight. He didn't doubt that his right hand was upset because he shot his little toy....but that toy was a problem. And hell be damned If Hoyt did not solve his problems accordingly. But it was swell...in a few days he would get over his doe-eyed little tramp and he wouldn't even remember her name either. She was just one face of many to have merited some form if interest to the pirate and certainly not the last one either. Though he did have to admit...was quite a shame to have to put her down. A good looking gal like that would have fetched him millions for the right salivating mouth, temper an added bonus is the client liked a fighter. But c'est la vie as they so graciously put it. And life was often a coldhearted bitch in spiked heels. “How dare you raise your voice to me!” Hoyt snapped, “Have you forgotten who signs your paychecks!?” It was a tried and true method with Vaas, threaten him with his money. Because they all knew that was what he relied on around here. Without it there would be no drugs to pump into what little veins he had left. No guns to fill his closet. No women to fill up his bed. “Now you gather that mess up and get rid of her!” It was almost like a father and child with those two. The child irrationally upset over nothing while the father couldn't help but be irritated by it all. Hoyt motioned for them to follow him again, this time for real, as he led them out from the jungle and back to the trucks. -

Even in the face of Hoyt's taunting now, Ash remained quiet after that threat. It was obvious up close why he was the one in charge- he was far more intelligent than one would think on first glance. From looking at one another it was obvious he'd read more than Ash wanted him to know, and that was going to prove to be dangerous if she wasn't careful with him. Next one I shoot won't be you, girl. That was a far more effective threat than any to her own safety and Hoyt had to know that. She'd already lost Scorcha... She couldn't even look over at where her friend lay or she knew she'd break down into hysterics of her own. Looking at Scha'tzi was no better either, as now in her mind all she could see was the same fate befalling her. It was all she could do to keep her eyes forward and teeth gritted against the tidal wave of mixed emotions threatening to come to the surface, and not resist as much when the gunner started to move her forward. It was something she'd learned to do at an age far too young, how to detach herself from her emotions in order to keep functioning. It was also something she hadn't had to do in a long time now, but it came easily enough. Set the grief and anger to the side to focus on the question ringing in her mind. NOW what? Right then Ash had no answer for herself. Scorcha had been the one with the plan and she had only followed along as best she could, and at that her improvisation could have gone wrong so quickly if just a single factor had been different. She couldn't count on Scha'tzi to come up with anything, not with the state that poor girl was in after these two days. There was a frightening thought, just how quickly everything had gone straight to hell in not even a full two days. It didn't bode well for the ones to come, but that was just another thought Ash shoved to the side for now. Just watch... and wait. That was the best she could come up with for the time being. They'd all be on higher alert now, but eventually they'd relax. Either that or they'd go off to use whatever their poison was and forget to watch as closely, and that seemed to be a very likely case judging from the looks of most of these men. Whatever they were using, it was using them up faster than they realized... And the same could be said of Vaas without a doubt. Watch and wait. A complete non-plan in every way, but without Scorcha it was the most she could do right then. - For all the time Vaas wondered to himself why he didn't just cap Hoyt where he stood shouting at him, the man was always quick to remind him exactly why that was a bad idea. It was definitely the money. He'd entertained during the moments of lucidity whether he could just run the empire himself, but that was without a doubt not an option. Vaas understood fear and pain and how to take a man apart, but all the intrigue and politics of running such a business went far over his head. So at times like these when Hoyt shouted back at him with that reminder, he just bit his tongue and let it be. Damn it all, he did want his money at the end of it all. Get rid of her! Well, fine. But damn if he wasn't going to still be irritated about it, and keep Scorcha in the man's sights so he knew Vaas was still annoyed with him. What that would do, exactly, he wasn't sure, but he was going to do it anyway. "Okay. Alright," He sighed finally, his temper deflating under the weight of Hoyt's reminders. It really was a shame that Scorcha had to go out like this, he'd had all sorts of grand plans for breaking her in and keeping her under his wing, so to speak, and if he could get the right kind of drug into her he could have easily gotten her to stay willingly. With a scowl he bent again to lift the girl's limp form, pausing in confusion when he leaned over her face. There. He was almost completely positive he'd seen her eyelids flutter and her lips move slightly, and if he watched it almost looked like she was still breathing. When he picked up her wrist he felt no pulse, but he was positive he'd seen her fingers twitch ever so slightly. But, when he really thought about it, that just wasn't possible. Hoyt favored that revolver for a reason, because what he shot, he killed. Vaas shook his head to himself, pulling the girl off the ground by her arm to sling her over his shoulder. He just needed another hit. He'd seen some crazy shit before when he was hurting for one, and while he hadn't thought he needed it... Clearly he did if he thought the dead girl was alive after he'd watched her bleed out right there. Not far off from the camp there was a mass grave the pirates had inadvertently built up for the bodies of rejects and unfortunate natives who strayed too close, but it was in a pretty enough spot under some trees. He wasn't going to go through the trouble of digging a grave in this ridiculous heat, but taking the time to find a nicer spot? Vaas could do that. After what seemed like forever in the heat they'd finally made it back to the trucks, although there were considerably less men than they'd started out with. Had it not been for the sour ending to the chase Vaas might have laughed about it, teased his redhead about her killer instinct and asked her if she'd always been so ruthless. Couldn't very well get an answer from a dead girl, he thought with a sigh as he unceremoniously lifted Scorcha's body into the back of the same truck Ash and Scha'tzi had been loaded into.

#far cry #far cry 3 #oc #rp #fanfic #lions and lambs #vaas montenegro #citra talugmai #hoyt volker #douglas stephenson #dennis rogers

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maleficfiction · 10 years

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Lions and Lambs Chapter 3: Run Rabbit Run!

The Kingpin was finally beginning to settle down from his highly agitated state of being now that loose ends had been tied up and satisfactory results had been achieved. In the end he was still a business man...and he liked productivity. But now the men had done what he paid them for and he had himself a new batch of slaves to send to market, and three extra special gems to sell back to to whoever was willing to pay for them while selling for double on the black market as well. Yes, Hoyt smelt money. And he liked money. And as his dog wandered away with his project the runt of the litter was left behind, trembling in her skin. His lips curled into a stodgy smirk. He had been convinced that Doug was going to take that one – but apparently his Spotter was feeling either adventurous or just lazy to take away the weak one. Vaas on the other hand would exert some of that extra energy for the rest of the night, which either meant he would be tolerable in the morning or not, either way he expected that half a redhead to be good and broken and manageable by the morning. Only time would tell on that one. But he had to let the men fuck every once in a while. Otherwise they got antsy...and started looking at each other differently. Such was the nature of man really. But speaking of fucks... Hoyt had been eying her with that vulturous stare from his stage.

He wondered if she was a virgin still, but being twenty four and in college in America, he didn't get his hopes up. She certainly acted like it. Then again...maybe this was a far to mature theme for the little good christian girly to handle all at once. She stood over there like a little angel...and he was the devil tonight. Every night actually....but who was counting? But there was nothing innocent about that one, see he could read people. That Drake girl, troublemaker all the way. That Northman girl, atypical slave material who would be bought and sold like cattle until she died. This Cordell girl? Well... she was a sweet little thing wasn't she? But he spied a look in her eyes, a small little fire burning deep down in there – just waiting for enough air to ignite like the fire in Miss Drake. But while the redhead was like thermite, quick to flare and hot to burn – she burned out quickly. But this one...she was a slow burn, a burn that would grow and soon enough the whole forest was on fire. But he could easily douse the flame while it was small. Ashley was well behaved enough, all she needed was a little direction, and a true introduction to her new master. Hoyt slithered down across the stage, hands buried deep into the pockets of his blazer, cigar smoking between his lips as he came around to the girls vicinity as she stood, alone and frightened. “You should be happy its her and not you.” Hoyt said, nonchalant, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Not exactly a woman's first choice for cherry popping, eh?” He chuckled, as if that was supposed to comfort her in some way, but he was really just prodding for information. “Be happy. Smile.” He added as he strolled past her a few paces and stopped, looking back at her when she didn't follow, “Well c'mon, follow papa.” It wasn't a choice, and though he spoke softly, the look on his face spoke a very different story. “Are you hungry ghali? Thirsty? A massage perhaps?”

"So!" Vaas started in the moment they'd left the platform, looking every part of a child with a shiny new toy, albeit a not-so-innocent picture in this case. "I was thinking, I know I said we'd make a couple movies together, right? Well, if mama and papa are dead then there's no point in making a fucking ransom video if no one is gonna get it." From his pocket he produced Doug's camera, switching it onto the record setting to hold it up in front of he and Scorcha, leaning in closer to get in the frame. "But it's like... I said that's what we were gonna do. And it's not like I'm gonna look like a fucking liar, so here is what I'm thinking." Satisfied that he now had a nice enough shot of the two Vaas lowered the camera again, switching it back off for the moment. "Don't wanna waste the battery. Anyway, I thought we'd still do that." By now a sly grin had crept onto his face like he had some secret he was dying to share and a new bounce had been added to his step that he tried to encourage Scorcha into joining. "But, this one I'm not gonna put on the internet. The internet peoples can fuck off." At last they reached the tiny shack Vaas called his, the door to which he opened with a flourish and ushered Scorcha inside. Inside it was surprisingly neat, although it still held the same look of being run-down as the rest of the place. It was essentially all one room, furnished with a few crates and rough wooden chests lined against one of the walls to serve as the sole storage, a tiny television placed atop one of the taller crates, a threadbare rug on the floor that had likely been a much brighter red at some point, and a mattress laden with mismatched pillows and blankets opposite the t.v. The bed itself looked though it saw little use, and the only sign that Vaas spent any amount of time there were the dozens of ashtrays lined along the end of his bed, each stuffed full of various cigarette and cigar ends. With his door shut and the deadbolt clunked into place, Vaas sauntered past his captive to stand before his t.v, setting to work balancing it atop the set to point down towards his bed. He stepped back a moment to admire his work before frowning and checking the screen again, shaking his head. "Fuck, man, I don't wanna look at the WALL." A few more moments of tinkering around with the device he nodded in satisfaction, now turning to look at Scorcha with a devious grin. "Don't give me no bullshit about a headache, either." He jerked his head towards his bed expectantly, all the while looking incredibly pleased with himself. "See? I told you we'd still get our movie. That's why internet peoples get nothing, 'cause this one is all mine." - Happy? By now Ash had lost count of how many times she'd had to keep from snapping back with a response, but in this position the desire to do so was pretty much nonexistent. This was definitely not a man she wanted to make angry, especially since she was expected to go off with him now. There was a nightmare of a thought. Hoyt had already proven to be a less than pleasant individual, and with the way he was eyeing her now... She chewed down on her lower lip, her head spinning with anxiousness. As she'd tensed to take her first reluctant step, the darkness of the jungle just beyond the platform looked so much less frightening. An intense urge to just run and not look back swept over her, powerfully enough that she almost just went ahead and did it until she remembered the knife in Hoyt's coat he'd already threatened to use once. God only knew what he'd do if she bolted. With that in mind she followed, making sure to try and keep out of what she estimated to be the man's reach while her mind raced. Are you hungry ghali? Thirsty? A massage perhaps? Oh God no. "No," She managed to barely whisper out, shaking her head at the thought of it. No she did not want that man's hands on her, thank you. "I'm fine." Available to her, Ash had exactly zero resources on her person to work with. However, she'd already seen the potential in one if she could get past the main obstacle there. Hoyt did have that knife on him, and if he turned just right... She could even just get a glimpse of it. That was one. The other had presented itself to her with a thunderous roar, making her jump at the sound. A tiger in a cage lay outside, where it had been obscured from her view earlier. It was thin, missing a few patches of hair in some spots, and snarled viciously at the sight of a man in a red shirt. No doubt the men teased it from the outside in safety, and if it was given the chance would no doubt inflict as much carnage as it could on everyone nearby. The last was all her, if she could get a chance to be free long enough. She knew her own speed and stamina, and from looking at the masses of drug-abusing degenerates milling around the place, she was positive she could outrun them. The problem with that were their guns... And most of all, Hoyt, who she doubted would be quick to let her out of his sight. Promise me you'll be strong. Scorcha's words rebounded in her head, and about then it was the only thing that kept her from simply breaking down. She couldn't even imagine what Vaas would wind up putting her through- for her sake, Ash simply gritted her teeth and followed along. While she was at it, she'd made mental notes of how far they'd walked, what landmarks there were, and where to turn. Just in case, she told herself. One never knew.

Sorcha hated herself more the further away she walked from Ash. She hated everything she could think of when it came to herself and her actions up until this point in time. Walking away from Ash was like walking away from her own child, leaving it to die in the wilderness, not even caring to look back one last time. It was the lesser of two evils...but both evils were mighty. Either way no one won except the both of them, that was how the cards had fallen, that was how the game always played. From the second they stepped foot on this island it was game, set, match. Evil wins over the innocent, and the house always deals. And the rules were simple, there was but one, you either win or you die. By that knowledge it was hard to figure how they could have been possibly wining right now, given that they were still alive – but for how long was no ones guess. Funny really... it was a game where winning felt more like loosing in the long run. Sure you got to draw a few more breathes for a little while longer but each waking moment of existence became harder and harder to bear as time crawled on. Sorcha refused to look back lest she loose all the courage she had built up just to make her legs walk. One look at that girls face would be the end of it, because she wasn't so cruel to leave her child behind. She wouldn't...ever. She would guard it with her very life if she had to – just so long as she took comfort knowing that it was safe, that she was safe. But she couldn't be certain. She only had hope, hope that Ash took her words to heart and used them as a shield. But while it was the only protection she could offer right then it was also foreshadowing. Sorcha was coming back for her, of that she was guaranteed. She wasn't sure yet how but she would find a way, she always found a way. Her sight drifted to the side, watching Vaas' boots thud into the dust beside her own barefooted steps as he spoke to her. She wondered if he just liked to hear himself talk, he certainly didn't shut up for shit. The camera appeared again as the pirate leaned in closer while she merely watched the ground in total silence, as if each step took vast amounts of concentration to preform. They kinda did right now. Every part of her felt cold and stiff. Her mouth and throat were dry as bones, but luckily hunger hadn't won over stress just yet. Not that she would even accept anything from anyone in this place. Never in her life had she thought she'd find herself in this place. In a dark and dingy room, full of nothing but crates and run down mattress on the floor with a strange and dangerous man. Maw had warned her about men all her life, not just the bad ones. Give em an inch and they'll drag you a mile and you'll be so turned upside your head you won't realize he rabid until he bites you a few times. Wise old woman she was, but it left her always wondering about her own father, and if he was the reason her mother warned her the way she did or if she did truly love him. Dad was a sore subject in the family. So they didn't discuss it. So needless to say...she wasn't impressed with his 'room' so to speak...but it could have been so much worse. Even if the longer she drank in her surroundings, while he cursed at the camera he tried to set upon the tv to capture a wide angle of the bed, the ghostlier her skin tone became – she reminded herself it could still be so much worse...again. This place was a lot cleaner then some of the haunts of New Orleans...and the jungle too. The redhead had pivoted back, looking sidelong at the fashionably prison like bolt upon the metal door, figuring in her mind how it worked to unlock just by looking at it. It was simple. Just a sliding bolt. Don't give me no bullshit about a headache Speaking of which, she did still have a raging one didn't she? The pain had briefly been blocked out by the adrenaline but now as it faded she couldn't help but cringe, the sound of his voice only seeming to aggravate the pain as she looked back at him, frowning before finding the camera and following the direction of the lens towards the mattress thrown onto the floor. “...fuck...” Sorcha whispered, really...this was a highly uncomfortable position to be in. You did this for Ash's safety. She reminded herself. Better her then Ash. And slowly she did as she was told, walking across the creaking boards and into the frame of the camera as she dropped down and dug her palms into the tangled mess of blankets as she stepped over the ashtrays and crawled across the bed to its middle before settling down to sit. The show was about to begin. And as she sat she couldn't hide the disgust on her face as she twisted the sheets in her hands, wondering if the stains were rust or blood or ...never mind. She knew exactly what some of those stains were. She couldn't even imagine how many girls had found themselves exactly how she was now. Trembling and waiting for this monster to do his deed. She wondered how many others he had recorded for little snuff films too. Maybe she really didn't want to know. She looked up then to find him looking down at her with that grin of his face and a chill rested upon her skin as she was reminded that her shirt was torn open and her bikini was on full display. “The fuck you lookin at?” Sorcha grumbled, “This ain't Disneyland.” - I'm fine. Never had he heard a slave speak such words before and the Kingpin looked at her almost in a bewilderment, as if he thought for a moment that he had misheard what she had said. But he already that she was lying. Not only to him but to herself. She had to at least be thirsty, that was what they always asked for first. Fluids. Hoyt always liked to serve them too, fluids they asked for so he gave them fluids. But those fluids weren't nessessarilly water the majority of the time. And he would laugh at their vomiting and crying, 'Well you should have been more specific!' He'd chuckled. Lately it seemed that the word slave had lost all it's meaning in the new world, a slave was a object subjected to the whims of the master – and the slave always obeyed. A slave was quiet and a slave did not ask for things. They did not speak unless spoken to or otherwise instructed. Yet all these little fucks just didn't understand, and it wasn't like he didn't tell them what they were, so they fought and kicked and screamed and yelled and bit his men like wild animals. The practice of breaking in a wild animal to domesticity was so routine around here that Hoyt honestly felt lost when such practice wasn't needed. But this girl. She knew her place, he contributed only to her roots – while Christianity was the greatest con the world had ever seen it in fact was a means to enslave others. So you see this girl had already been conditioned all throughout life, she just didn't know it, because ignorance was bliss. “You have good manners. I like that.” Hoyt complimented again, gesturing her to continue to follow him with a wave of his hand as he bounced down the small flight of stairs in a new chipper mood. “You'll make a fine slave, I imagine I may be able to get triple for you for the right customer.” He continued to talk, all business as usual, “Come girl.” He motioned towards a cabana set in the middle of the camp where many a pirate were lurking, some with uncomfortable looking slaves others only nursing their drinks and guns. Hoyt entered beneath the low roof and as he approached the bar the pirate who had wandered behind it to get his own drink was quick to slap down the bottle onto the bar instead and fish for a couple of glasses. Hoyt didn't thank him, his silence was enough for the pirate to be grateful to have his life in tact, and Hoyt reached out. His hand touching against her back as he guided the blond, “Since you're such a good girl. I'm going to give you a drink.” His head nodded towards the filled shot glass on the counter and he leaned in close to her ear, “I know you're thirsty”

This ain't Disneyland. Vaas had already decided that of the three the redhead was his favorite of the bunch, but that temper and mouth of hers only drove that opinion further home. It was a good moment before he was able to quit snickering, but when he did it was again as if a switch had been flipped. "See, there you go again, swearing at me and shit. We already had a talk about that." His tone was quiet, but did nothing to disguise the slow build of irritation in his eyes. Above all else Vaas couldn't stand disrespect, had shot men before for so much as looking at him oddly and this girl... She just seemed to know exactly the tone to take to push him. But it was fine, no matter what she said or did he had already won this game. She was just drawing it out for the sake of just doing exactly that. And that was fine, too. Vaas never was one to pass up a good challenge. As if he enjoyed just watching Scorcha squirm he took his sweet time crossing the room, letting every thud of his boots fall deliberately and loudly until he finally stood at the edge of his bed to stare down at the girl. The anger had faded by now, melting into a sick sort of smile as an idea occurred to him. "You know what, nena?" He crouched down so he was at eye level with Scorcha, reaching forward to brush a wayward strand of hair out of her face. "I think I know what your problem is. YOUR problem is, you don't know how to say when you want something. It's ok. I can tell." With a grin that was nothing short of diabolical he let himself fall forward onto the blanket to lean up on one elbow and fix Scorcha with a long stare. "I think... I'm gonna help you get past that, nena. You will never get anything you want out of life unless you grow a fucking spine and take it." He patted the spot next to him invitingly, glancing meaningfully between Scorcha and it as if he thought she still wouldn't get the hint. "So you are not gonna get anything unless you take it yourself. Make it look good, too," He added with a smirk, nodding toward the camera observing them both. "I got a habit of watching favorites over again." With surprising speed, Vaas' hand shot forward to Scorcha's bound wrists to yank her down next to him, where he paused at the sight of the ropes. "Hn. Those are not gonna help. How the hell do you take anything if you can't even move?" With a sigh he rolled over, leaning over the girl so he could draw his knife. "You promise to be good? I have faith in you," He answered to his own question, severing the ropes in one clean swipe. The door was locked, he had his gun and his knife, and he was by far stronger than Scorcha. He'd never had a girl escape him once; why should now be any different. - A slave. So that was to be her fate after having done so much work to get through life? Not a chance in hell, Ash swore silently. She definitely had not survived the Cordell household and college just to wind up being sold like one of the animals. The same anger Doug had ignited earlier began to flare again, though she continued to play her cards just as carefully as ever. No sense in losing it and ruining any possibility of a chance she had. As it stood now, it seemed like Hoyt didn't think she was going to try anything, if she judged from how relaxed he was holding himself. Well, for now he was right. You have good manners. I like that. Yes, she was in fact well-mannered, but in this case it was less that and more keeping a poker face. Give nothing away, keep the man from losing his temper, and keep from giving him a reason to raise his guard around her. Manners had very little to do with it, but evidently being naturally soft-spoken was helping her case. Already Ash had seen the definite difference in how Hoyt had been around Scorcha, and how he was when alone with her. Right now she was concentrating on memorizing the layout of the place, and watching the number of men around. As opposed to earlier, when the place had been swarming with the pirates, it was now much quieter save for the occasional distant scream or two. Some still milled about the place, lazily patrolling the dirt roads with loudly voiced complaints about the heat. With as ill-organized as their patrol was, it didn't seem like a terribly impossible task to sneak past them. She was shaken from her thoughts by the kingpin's hand on her back, the contact making her skin crawl. Yeah... No. Ash hadn't seen what exactly had been pushed towards her, but it wouldn't have mattered what it was. There was not a thing this man was going to offer that she would take. Her teeth gritted when he leaned in and she tensed, Scorcha's words the only thing keeping her from reacting right then and there. Promise me you'll be strong. "That just makes dehydration worse. I still think I'm ok," She answered evenly, though her temper burned just a little hotter with Hoyt's unwanted touch and proximity.

Yeah she had a problem alright. A five foot nine, buck ninety kinda problem with a stupid grin on his face. It was hard to sit there and listen to him talk, and with the camera watching, it felt like there might has well have been an audience. Who knew that that just the idea of a moment being capture on film to be re-watched again could make someone feel so uncomfortable? That stupid camera... she might have just hated it more then she disliked him right about now. Sitting there like that she felt exposed, so exposed that if she had actually been naked she'd have felt more covered up then she felt right now...even with clothes on. And she looked at him, at first neutral to his position. That was until he crawled onto the bed, stretching out like the king of his castle beside her. She was looking at the camera again, that scowl slowly creeping back onto her face. Vaas was just toying with her right now, making her feel as uncomfortable as he possibly could. But he was like a snake in the grass, watching and waiting to strike. Waiting for her guard to drop for maximum effect. He liked to watch people suffer, that much was obvious. And she was stuck in this room with this man. Every part of her just wanted to go home, leave this place and pretend nothing had ever happened her. This was all such a nightmare...but she wasn't foolish enough to hope that she'd wake up from it. Cause this was reality right here. The cold heart of reality rearing it's ugly head. Slave rings weren’t uncommon in the world, but they did exist. Off in America one didn’t hear about this often…not unless they involved children and were found on American soil. Five o’clock news was always buzzing about who did this and that, shootings at schools, politicians and their lude photos on the internet, global warming and glazing over wars across the sea. Yet they didn’t even begin to touch on the real world. The real. Fucking. World. This place? This was what was real. Men with guns on uncharted islands, people disappearing from obscure places, men so evil and so cruel that they commanded private fucking armies and pirates were alive and well. This was reality and it was far from the believable, far what was even probably. What were the chances…right? But did you ever hear these stories on the evening news? No. You heard about JB’s second arrest in a week and the fucking weather. Out of the whole seven billions of people on this planet…not a single one of them knew what reality really was. No they all sat at home bitching about the government and taxes. About their shitty jobs and their ungrateful kids. They had no idea just what it felt like to wish with all of one’s soul just for one single drop of water. They didn’t know what it was like to watch the one they loved in the arms of a lunatic. They didn’t know what it was like to watch her almost die. And not be able to do a damn thing to stop it. To have to watch in horror because you too fucking scared to act. To not even be able to hold her as she falls apart in front of you cause you don’t have the guts to disobey the man with the gun. They had no idea at all. Just how bad it could get. And the really sad part of this story? It was knowing that no one was looking for them. Not soon enough. Not in the right place. There was no rescue. There was no light at the end of the tunnel. It was their way at their convenience and die at their leisure. A lump had risen in her throat as reality sank in. And in an instant she was pulled back and she flopped onto her side facing him, a moment of shock on her face. She'd become distracted for a moment there and he had dutifully brought her attention back. There was only one thing he wanted from her. Obviously... and she didn't want to give it to him. She looked him over again her breath catching in her throat as he moved over her and she sunk down into the mattress as far as she could just to keep distance between him and her....it didn't work. Suddenly a knife had appeared again and she blinked, where the hell did that thing keep coming from? She didn't remember seeing a knife on him before nor in the camp either... just the gun. The loaded gun. Left unattended right there on his belt, she could have just grabbed it, and all of this would have been over. But... he did have the knife and something told her his reflexes would have been a lot quicker than her attempt to grab the gun and rip it out of a closed holster. She couldn't risk it. Take what you want nena This words burned in her mind as he cut the ropes from her wrists and threw them aside. Her hand moved to press against his wrist but her fingers didn't wrap around it, pushing the knife away from her person. He was right after all. The only way she would get anywhere was if she started taking what she wanted from others. Starting with him. She'd put herself in here with him for a reason, and now that reason was obvious. She kept her hand against his wrist, so the knife stayed to the side, hoping he would drop it entirely. “I've never been with a man...” She admitted, quietly but nervously, while her other hand touched against his chest, “If you be gentle...it'll look good.” She added, glancing over to the camera, “Only if you're gentle...” Fingers coiled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him downward as she leaned upward and claimed his lips with her own but she couldn't help but cringe a little bit. - Sometimes...Hoyt just like the make people uncomfortable. But who was he kidding really? He was like that every day. Had been since he was sixteen years old and took his father's pickaxe to his own head while he slept. That wonder man that he was. That man's policy of life was to work hard and stay loyal. That was a policy that he himself had adopted into his own life. It was only through long, tireless work that he had stepped out of his fathers shadow and risen up to the top of the food chain. And it took loyalty to build his empire up from nothing. Hoyt Volker was an entrepreneur, and the best in the business, he worked with absolute pride and total cruelty. A cruelty that his subject were very familiar with, Hoyt valued no ones lives, not even his closest and certainly no slave's either. He saw her looking around, drinking in her surroundings. He knew what she was doing, like all animals the urge to escape was the strongest feeling of them all. He saw her looking for her way out, saw her thinking about strategies and trying to predict the movements and reactions of these men. Hoyt didn't doubt she could get past the pirates, they were....let's say not his first pick in hired help. These were Vaas' men and Vaas was much happier with men who knew how to use a gun unlike himself who required special training in all of his subject's. But really....the Rakyat Warrior didn't like competition. So he kept himself surrounded by idiots to feel good. And this was exactly why things never got done on time nor done right, the thought made him inwardly sigh in frustration. Why did he even allow this to happen in the first place? Oh yes. Because he was an understanding boss...and none of these fucks ever broke the rules. And because loyalty was policy, not even Hoyt would kill them off no matter how incompetent they were. But Vaas was his hidden ace, and even though he might have been busy burying his cock into this girls friend, he knew the man would resurface were a ruckus to erupt outside. Ashley could try to run if she so liked, hell Hoyt hoped she did, at least it would be some cheap entertainment for a few minutes. But his Rakyat would steal the show and return Ashley to her proper place, see the girl didn't know him nor his skills, and that was her mistake. No one ever escaped Vaas. No one. “Don't be rude girl.” Hoyt replied, poison dripping from his words, “When I offer you a drink. You drink, do you understand?” There was a reason why Hoyt was in this business in particular. He just loved women. He loved fucking them and he loved hurting them. There was just a certain art to be found in their bodies that he wanted to share all around the globe. He was master to many a slave and he was very good with conditioning them as well. The others resorted to pain and suffering to break their women...but he preferred the subtle things in life. True fear never came from pain itself, but the anticipation of it. And Hoyt did so love anticipation. That was why his men were so loyal to him, they feared him, because he was so adept with words alone that they did not need action to realize that he was serious business and that anything he said he was going to do...he would do. But that was just the sugar coated version, see when Hoyt was pushed to action he did so much worse then he threatened.

To say the very least, Vaas was stunned. So much so that he almost didn't even know how to react, just sat there dumbly for a good few seconds before he'd snapped back to his senses to return the kiss with much more enthusiasm. In the next moment he was grinning again, nearly laughing out loud at the entirely of it all for reasons he didn't even quite understand. Of all the outcomes in the world he'd expected, this hadn't been on the list. Hadn't even been in the realm of near possibility, so he'd thought. Life was just a bitch that way. Sometimes it did everything it could to bite you in the ass, and then other times it dropped a girl like this into his lap. His pick of the litter and he gets the virgin that makes the first real move on him. What in the hell were those odds? Vaas had no idea and right then he just didn't give a fuck. Forgetting entirely about the knife in his hand he let it fall to the floor with a clatter, starting to move in to take this further before Scorcha's request nagged at him. Be gentle. Well, that left two options. Ignore her and do whatever he wanted, or... Be gentle and see exactly how much she'd take his advice to heart. Honestly, he liked the second option more even if it wasn't his forte. When had there ever been a completely willing woman in his bed? Whether it was the haze of drugs or just the lack of aforementioned willing girls he just couldn't think of any. He couldn't think of any reasons not to indulge the girl either- like she was going to try anything with him. Like it would matter if she did. And hell, it would look good. His mind made up, he lifted the girl easily to have her straddling his lap instead, all the while grinning like the Cheshire cat. "You're the boss, nena," He answered, taking the opportunity to run his hands up her sides. Yeah... He had definitely lucked out here. The only real downside he could see was having to remind himself not to resume his usual ways of simply tossing her down. The upside? He could take a few liberties with positions for once. With that in mind he pulled her down along with him to lay back against his bed, perfectly content to let Scorcha do the work. He had told her to take what she wanted, after all. "Fuck it, I might just try and keep you around. Wouldn't always have to 'be gentle'." - Oh, this man was getting to her now, Ash mused with gritted teeth. If there was one thing she really and truly couldn't stand it was being told what to do and this man gave orders like it was his job. Well, technically, it sort of was... But that was hardly the point. Control was first nature to Hoyt and it showed, but it was hard to take when it was so in her face like he made it. Still... She couldn't afford to have him losing his temper along with her. God forbid he decided to hurt her first and make any chance of getting out impossible. And, there was still that same reminder to stay strong that had become like a mantra in her head. So, she unclenched her teeth with some difficulty and kept her tone just as mild as before, all the while just aching to lash out in some way. "All due respect, I've never taken drinks from strange men in my life and I'd like to not start. I still have no idea who you are." Had to make some sort of compromise, too, otherwise she'd get nowhere. Silently willing the man to relax again she pulled the shot glass closer to fiddle with in her hands but hesitated to actually raise it. Ash still was suspicious of whatever it was, fully expecting for it to be laced with something awful. How would she even know if it was? It wasn't as though she could just ask Oh, by any chance is this an attempt to slip me any kind of drugs? Just curious. The last thing she needed was to be drugged and alone with him. What she really needed was some way to get his attention off her, or for the nearby men to go away. She had zero desire to be one on one in somewhere enclosed, but out in the open she stood a chance. Maybe. She was going to have to do something soon, that much she knew with certainty.

For a moment it was like the world had stood still when he'd suddenly pressed downward in response to the touch of her lips. There was a ferocity in his kiss and power that made her almost rethink her own actions as she blinked in surprise. There was such things as a kiss...and than there was a kiss. What had started out as a simple ruse, and innocent and boring peck, had been corrupted into something much deeper then it was meant to be. And her lips practically tingled when he pulled away as she slowly moistened them with her tongue. Her heart was pounding in her chest, which rose and fell quickly, while her skin felt as if it had flushed. What had happened she wasn't rightfully sure but it had been intense and he pulled her upwards from the bed with little effort and she realized that he had discarded his weapon like she was hoping. Arms hooked around his shoulders to hold herself against him as she sat upon him, staring at him as his hands roamed up her body. She hoped he was enjoying himself, cause she was beginning to feel just a little confused and ill. But she reminded herself to be patient ...and calm. You're the boss That was what she had been waiting for. Those three words reassuring her that her plan might still work. That she might still get out of this unscathed and back to her girls before any more damage was done to them. Vaas had given his power up like a fool and when he slid back to lie down upon the bed she moved with him, her forearm submerged into the sheets at the side of his head as she combed the loose strands of her auburn locks behind her ear only to had it return right back to the same position. “You'd have to buy me.” She replied quietly, she was a “slave” after all...not that she was wanting to put ideas in his head. But it if kept him relaxed. And there he was, right where she wanted him to be. Laid down underneath her in a compromising position. Like a male widow, besides himself with glee yet never once realizing that she would kill him once the deed was done. Figuratively anyway. Sorcha laid flat against him, her lips finding his again briefly, teeth biting down upon his lower lip with a taunt of aggression as her hips bucked forward, her body grazing against his as she released his lip and peppered his jaw down the front of his neck. “At least you're handsome.” Sorcha had mumbled, tongue gliding across his skin as her digits slid down across his chest and she leaned back, propped against his legs she ripped free the clasp of his belt as if she'd done it a million times before, glancing upward slightly whilst pulling the hem of his pants free and parting the zipper. “You like to be rough?” She asked suddenly, palm pressing downwards against the growing bulge beneath the fabric and she leaned forward just enough as to slide her hand south beneath the rough garment, sliding down the hot mound of flesh underneath, fingers squeezing his organ just enough to make him cringe. “Cause I do.” Her voice had turned venomous and in an instant her knee shot forward, crashing into his loins mercilessly. She was thrown off him as he jolted and she tumbled off of the mattress with a curse, scrambling forward to grab upon the hilt of the pistol just as he had moved in such a way to snap the holster open. Ripping free the heavy metal piece she leap a top him again as the gun spun in her hands. “You!” She yelled, the hilt of his own gun colliding with the side of his face, “Son of a bitch!” Red misted her skin as the pirates shouts torn through the air. She hit him again, even harder. And again in pure rage. And the fourth time...even more brutal. “...fucking asshole...” The livid redhead breathed at the half unconscious pirate beneath her, rising from his frame quickly as she stumbled off of the mattress, foot kicking the discarded knife away violently as she found the ever observant camera again. Still watching and recording. Fixing the camera with a eerie, emotionless sort of stare she drew in close to it, almost as if looking for all the people spectating the scene before she seized the device and hurled it into the wall. Instnantly it's parts were jostle free and as bits of plastic flew off it and the batteries clattered to the ground she ran for the door, yanking open the bolt and pausing to look back at the waking pirate as she slid the barrel back, listening to the satisfying sound of a round loading into the chamber. “Thanks for the quickie, Vaas.” Sorcha smirked, shoulder crashing against the metal door as it swung outward and she fled into the encampment. - Hoyt liked to pretend that he was a likable person, a calm man in the face of danger and uncertainty. He knew he was a fair boss, obviously. And he liked to believe himself a kind keeper, true his slaves often went through hell and back in the beginning but they were provided shelter and food and drink, and if the behaved they got sold away quicker then those more dense and stupid. And just look at the girls that did wind up staying, usually civilian girls caught from the island itself were kept as company for the men. Just look at them, they smiled and danced for them, sat on their laps and told them how much they loved them. They were happy being slaves. Hoyt freed them from the pains of society. And all they had to do was wet a few cocks here and there to show their appreciation. But...some girls just didn't get it. Some girls were wrapped up in their own societal mortals pounded into their heads since day one. Some girls were just too stubborn. The anger had crept onto his face while he watched her, gouging holes into head as his thin lips frowned in pure unadulterated displeasure. A quick glance to the pirate behind the bar prompted him to seize the shotgun that hung around his shoulders and load the chamber. Click-clack and a spent casing was flung to the ground. “My patience runs thin girl.” Hoyt growled, glancing again at the pirate with a scoff, snatching the shot glass from her hands and swallowing its liquid contents with a sigh as he slapped the glass down. “You know.” He started, rising off of his stool lazily, “I am an understanding man Miss Cordell.” His fingers raked through her hair, coiling tightly around her roots as he ripped her head back. “But I do not tolerate sass from my women.” He warned, the long and thick blade of his hunting knife resting against the exposed flesh of her neck. “You must come from a very entitled family Miss Cordell, to dare think to insult my hospitality like you do.” The blade tightened against her skin, it's razor edge threatening to cut flesh when the sharp cry of a familiar man suddenly raged through the camp. Instantly Hoyt released her as he blade dropped to his side. “That was Vaas...” He stated, as if it weren't plainly obvious who it was, the man was quite distinct. Instantly the pirate behind the bar shot across the cabana with three more in toe and Hoyt growled where he stood. “Little redheaded malaya...” He hissed, know it could only be one person who could have forced such a sound from his best man.

"For you, I just might," Vaas breathed out, finding it mortifyingly difficult to keep a straight face but unable to bring himself to care about it. More so than before, he was convinced this had been a good idea. He'd fully expected to have to guide a reluctant Scorcha along, or even go ahead and have to force her when she realized he was completely serious... yet here she was handling the foreplay like a goddamn pro. It was almost enough to make him wonder if she'd lied about being a virgin, until her hands at his belt halted his train of thought. You like to be rough? Any answer he'd been about to give came out in only a hiss when Scorcha's hand really did slide below the belt to wrap around his cock- a little too tightly, he noted with a slight grimace. Maybe she really was a virgin after all. Even with the sudden change of tone in the girl's voice, he still didn't go on the alert, mind too much a blur from a mix of long-term drug use and now excitement. So when her knee suddenly slammed into his groin... It got him good. Vaas swore violently and threw the girl from him- he should have fucking expected this, should have seen that coming a mile away, how had he been that stupid? Still no answer had come to him before he found himself pistol-whipped, by his own gun no less. By the second hit his vision had gone fuzzy at the edges and Jesus Christ his entire lower body hurt, the pain radiating from his injured genitals to everywhere else. He almost didn't even feel the third and fourth hits, just found himself vaguely surprised by the girl's ferocity. When Scorcha was finally done beating him nearly senseless- not an easy feat, and if he hadn't been so pissed he'd have just been impressed- she rose, turning to snatch up the camera. What she'd done with it he couldn't see, only saw it smash into the wall and lose several parts in the process. Thanks for the quickie, Vaas. She was goddamn lucky Vaas hadn't quite recovered yet, or he'd have just rearranged her face right then and there, fuck Hoyt's rule of no bruises. By the time he'd managed to pull himself to his feet, however, she was gone and he still was having a hard time drawing breath. Finally he'd staggered to his door, flinging it open with a bang and very nearly knocking it off the hinges. For a moment he said nothing, struggling to breathe in enough to give an order, shout at his dumbass stunned men to run after the bitch who just ran out- that was what he would have liked to do. What actually came out of his mouth was a wordless scream of agony and rage that echoed through the entire camp. "DON'T JUST FUCKING STAND THERE!!" He screamed at the nearest pirate, gesturing wildly with the hand that wasn't supporting his weight against the doorframe. "BRING THAT BITCH TO ME FUCKING NOW!!" - Understanding? That was a goddamn lie if Ash had ever heard one, not breaking eye contact even with the ominous sound of the shotgun. Don't give anything away, stay cool. She had to remind herself of this, and felt as though she was doing a fair job of it until Hoyt actually rose and his hand wound painfully into her hair. She was screwing this up badly, she could already tell, and now she had absolutely no idea of how to fix it. So much for trying to do what she'd thought Scorcha would do, Ash had managed to keep herself mostly safe but now she'd gone and pissed Hoyt off. Alright, so a small change in tactics were needed evidently. Hold up- my women? HIS women Oh, well now any desire to keep this man happy had just flown out the window. Ash was rapidly losing her temper now and she was sure it had to show in her eyes. They always gave her away. Right about now she didn't care anymore, had sharp words right on the tip of her tongue ready to fly. Fuck you, I'm no one's woman and I'm for goddamn sure not YOURS, so you can go straight to hell. The moment she'd actually opened her mouth to say exactly so, however, a scream rang out in the night air, startling both pirates and captive alike. It evidently surprised Hoyt as well because he let her go to look toward the sound, the existing anger on his face only seeming to darken. At once the nearby pirates had bolted off to take care of the disturbance, leaving behind Ash... alone with the Kingpin. Out in the open, exactly how she'd wanted it. If you're going to do something, now's the time. She almost didn't even dare to believe it, but she knew the longer she stood there frozen, the less her chances were of making a successful run for it. Hoyt still seemed distracted enough, and that knife just sat in his hand... Do it now! Finally she caved to that nagging little voice, her hands reaching out to grab the lapels of Hoyt's blazer and yanked him forward. At the same time she brought her knee up to drive it into his stomach, purposely causing him to hit the bar behind him. Without a second thought she wrenched the knife from Hoyt's hand and shoved herself away from him. It didn't seem right to just leave him like that, not when he'd complimented her on her good manners as many times as he hand. "Thank you," She breathed out, and with that she took off in the direction she remembered she needed to go. "I'll take good care of it!" She called over her shoulder, unable to keep herself from grinning as she sped down the dirt road. A right here, go straight. "Hey there." In response to Ash's greeting, the tiger rose from its lounged position to snarl at her, tail swishing in irritation. "I know, I know," She soothed, ignoring the fangs inches from her face as she set to work slicing apart the ropes. She left all but one barely intact before she stood back to admire her work a moment. Satisfied the furious cat could now break out she turned and fled again, not daring to stop for anything now.

It might have seemed like Hoyt was genuinely concerned for Vaas' well being, which he was certainly, but for all the wrong reasons. Vaas as a person did not exist to Hoyt, only Vaas as a machine for destruction. See, to Hoyt, Vaas was nothing much larger then a mere slave to him. A slave he had gone through a terrible amount of trouble to buy and to maintain. Vaas had plenty of freedom and he was provided with everything that he needed, but the cost of that was ultimately his loyalty to Hoyt. It wasn't something that Vaas had really chosen for himself, but it was the way out that he needed from a prison he had found himself trapped inside. It was Vaas' own resolve that rose him through the ranks, his own lust for revenge, that brought him into Hoyt's inner circle. But that was all he was – a man in an inner circle who was not truly appreciated but he was feared. It was because Hoyt feared him that he reached out to him. Not because he liked the man. Hoyt was the greatest coward of them all after all, and when faced with an enemy too great he resorted to bargaining and money to get what he wanted. Everyone had a price he would often say. Everyone. But that price was not always money, just more commonly so. In Vaas' case, money was simply a benefit, the women even more so. Until now. And the idea that his right hand might have been seriously hurt? Well it was mighty inconvenient, especially if he might have died from it. Suddenly the lapels of his jacket had been seized and a knee slammed into his gut, causing him to spit his cigar as he cursed and fell back against the bar counter. “Basha!!” Hoyt bellowed, as his knife slipped from his hands, ““Kuma mamako malaya!” The Kingpin's anger was always legendary...but without his knife he was just a bellowing idiot, he was not a particularly strong man – not like many of the pirates. He had flown up from the bar, seeing red, and expecting to see a redhead attack him but when he caught sight of his little green eyed monster instead. That little bitch He thought as she fled down the dusty path, taking advantage of the distraction caused by the other one. Crafty little whores they were! “YOU TWO GET AFTER HER!” Hoyt screamed at the nearest pirates whom were quick tear down the pathway after Ash with guns locked and loaded. “Get back here bitch!” One of them yelled as Hoyt watched darkly from the open cabana, almost feeling satisfied with the sound of gunshots in the distance. “OH MY GOD! TIGER!” Another one of them yelled, and in an instant Hoyt's creeping grinned turned into a scowl as their cried erupted moments later, a sad chorus to the growls of sad tiger. A slew of profanity left his mouth as he stormed from the cabana and out into the encampment, throwing a pirate out of his pathway as they scrambled around him like cockroaches in the light. “WHERE THE FUCK DID SHE GO!?” One of Vaas' men could be heard a few shacks away and Hoyt caught the sad sight of his little red garbed friend. His hand flew out, smacking Vaas' shaved head violently. “Are we having a wonderful time enjoying the night air Vaas!?” Hoyt yelled into the pirates ear, noticing his stance and instantly he knew exactly what had happened to him, “What's the matter? You get your jewels crushed by one little girl and you're going to cry about it? Hm?” Ohh was his rage phenomenal, he struck the pirate again mercilessly, “MAN THE FUCK UP AND FIND HER!” She could hear the South African shouting close by as she bolted through the gaps of the shakes, noticing shadows stretching out over the path before her from the corner of another shake. The shuffling forms of pirates soon to fly around the corner in search for her and in a slit second she veer off to the right, stumbling into a dark shake with no doors on it as two runners and an armored man turned the corner frantically. She hide in the corner of the door frame, watching them run past, noticing the room she had run into. The walls her stacked to the ceiling with suitcases of all different types and sizes and at the far end of the shack, next to the other doorway, was another table. A table with various items throw onto it's surface. She rose slowly walking towards it to find a phone left upon the table, a map spread out beneath the items and a lighter. Taking the phone first she held it gingerly as she pressed the buttons, watching as the screen light up with full battery power but no sort of signal to make any calls with. Her finger touched upon the screen, swiping the screens briefly before she snapped a picture of the map upon the table and stowed the device into her pocket along with the metal case lighter. She moved to the doorway close by, pausing to look upon a yellowed charcoal drawing upon the wall of a woman with her hair shaved on both sides of her head and the rest tightly braided into dreadlocks and a tribal tattoo upon her chin. She was gorgeous... “THERE SHE IS!” There was a shout behind her and instantly she spun around, the rip roar of an AK making her ears bleed as wood chips scattered through the air and she fell backwards out through the open door way. Slamming down into the ground she tumbled backwards back onto her feet as the pirate torn through the small shake and leapt out of the doorway in her wake. He landed upon her in her stupor, “I've got you!” He cackled as he lifted the but of his gun above her face and her shock cleared up as Vaas' pistol raised and the gun obliged her command. Blood spurted from the back of the colored pirates head as he paused, almost in confusion as to what had happened, before his body fell backwards with a sickening thud onto the grass. A cry of shock left her lips to realize what she'd done and instantly she scrambled up from the grass. Running out from between the two shacks she realized she hadn't thought about this very well as she saw all the bodies teeming around every corner....like a nest of disturbed ants they were. And it was in that horrid moment that she realized...she wouldn't be able to find her friends. Instinct had taken over, telling her to run, pushing her body towards the cover of the jungle just beyond the fence. She ran in a haze as she barely felt her feet hitting the ground. The jungle was so close... CRACK! Pain ripped through her leg suddenly, the searing burn of tearing flesh, nerves, and muscles causing her to scream as her leg buckled beneath her and sent her tumbling onto the ground, her weapon flying off into the cracks of the wooden bridge beneath her. The pain was intense, worse then anything she'd ever felt before as blurredly her hand landed upon the blood spattered wound cut into her leg, a wave of sickness washed over her as she gripped the wound while it bled profusely, leaving her hand red almost instantly. She cried out again, tears welling in her eyes as she rolled onto her side and curled slightly. The sight of a red tank top stalking towards her from the pathway. “Stay the fuck down!” The man ordered, a voice that was no where near close to Vaas', but could only belong to one other man, Doug. She looked up at him while he scowled at her, shaking his head. “You dumb...fucking bitch.” The black haired man growled, slamming his foot down upon the wound that he had caused her, taking a deep satisfaction in listening to the blood curdling scream that came from the girl. “You should have just relaxed.” Doug sighed, rising up and fixing his glock upon her steadily. Sorcha could only stare up at him before her instincts pushed her to action again, the gun fired again and she flung herself to the side, the bullet penetrating the bridge instead of her as she rolled, falling down between the poorly built bridge and landing atop of her gun and a tunnel leading straight into the jungle. “Fuck!” Doug yelled above her as bullets reigned down, cutting through the wood and forcing her to scrambled forward across the jagged rocks and to emerge from the other side of the bridge from the small hole beneath it. “Go get her she's wounded!” Doug snapped, firing again at the girl as she bolted into the jungle, and missing her spectacularly. The light of the camp faded into the pale light of the moon as she stumbled over roots that she rightfully wouldn't have even seen and fallen over any other time and ducked beneath branches and hanging vines. For what seemed like ages she did her best to run really had only taken her so far into the tree cover as the voices grew distant in only small moments before growing closer again. Breathing heavy her mouth covered her lips as she bite back the welling urge to break down. She'd left them behind. Both of them were still in that camp...and who knows what would become of them now thanks to her misdeed. “Goddamn it Sorcha...” She scolded herself, “Should have fucking let him....goddammit....” It was only now that she realized the severity of her own mistake, and that her own selfishness would lead to pain and suffering for her friends...maybe even death. And suddenly the jungle receded before her, cut open by a great ravine and a raging river down below and a shoddy looking bridge stretching across. Reaching out she fell against the rotting wooden stake that stuck up from the ground, the only support that the rope bridge was tied onto. Now she had a decision to make, did she make her way along the cliff side? Or did she try to cross the bridge?

"I'm fucking working on it!" Vaas snarled back, ire only raising more with Hoyt's shouting in his ear. He glanced up, fully intending on grabbing the blonde Hoyt had dragged off- only to find that his boss' unwilling companion was also nowhere to be seen. "Are you fucking KIDDING me?! You're gonna come over here to bitch at me for losing one, WHEN YOU LOST ONE TOO?! Where the fuck is Blondie, huh?! I don't fucking see her either!" Oh, the nerve of that man. On a good day his arrogance drove Vaas up the walls, but never quite like this. The rampant hypocrisy of it all, and Hoyt had the balls to look him in the eyes and shout at him when he'd done the exact same thing? "Her hand was down my PANTS, like on my dick, ok?! I thought I was getting some and that bitch nutchecked me. What the fuck's YOUR excuse, huh?! HUH?!" With some difficulty he'd drawn himself up to full height to meet Hoyt's glare evenly, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the undertone of agony etched into his face. Besides that, he did need to go find that girl. She had pretty much ruined his ability to walk normally, bashed his face in, and to top it off the bitch had stolen his gun. "Someone get me a new fucking gun!!" He snapped, wheeling away from Hoyt to stalk off in the opposite direction. He'd be walking bowlegged for days, he could already tell. Ash swore under her breath as bullets peppered the ground around her feet, urging herself to run just a little faster at least until she could find cover. It almost made her stop to look when the men screamed suddenly and stopped firing, until the snarls of the tiger made it clear what their priority had become. While she'd never enjoyed hurting anyone... somehow she didn't mind the thought of the tiger set upon those poor idiots. As the stage came into view at last, Ash ducked in behind the shell of what had been a Jeep at some point to peer around. After very nearly being shot all those times, it had made her a little reluctant to simply run out into the open. It didn't look like anyone was in the vicinity though, and if she sprinted she could clear the distance easily. From somewhere not far off she could hear her would-be captor screaming at someone, close enough that she could make out his words. It was definitely time to bolt. She drew in a quick breath to steel her nerves and darted from the spot, clearing the short steps in a single bound and hopping the short rail that separated the stage from the jungle. The drop was just a little bit higher than Ash had accounted for. Suddenly she found herself falling into darkness and hitting the ground much less quickly than she'd expected, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs for a few moments. Get up, get UP, they're probably coming, She reminded herself, scrambling to her feet and taking off into the night. Right around this point was where her plan had ended. She'd honestly not expected to get away from that place on her own, and only now really stopped to think about it. Oh God. If that had in fact been Scorcha causing the disturbance, had she made it out? Had she made the escape while her friend didn't? Even worse, what about Scha'tzi? She slowed to a stop, staring back at the direction of the camp in horror of what she might have done. Well... Ash couldn't exactly go back now. Oh, hello Mr. Scary Knife Man, I seem to have forgotten my friends. Might I go fetch them? Because that was going to go over winningly. She'd already done such a good job of charming the man. "Damn it all..." She breathed aloud, glaring at the points of light made by the pirate's den. She was going to have to go back. There was no way she could, in good conscience, NOT make an attempt. Not now, though. Those pirates had to be getting their weapons from somewhere. Maybe if she got her hands on a few, thought up some brilliant strategy, maybe recruited another person somehow... She shook her head, snapping herself from her thoughts back to the jungle. One step at a time. First thing was to put distance between herself, and those men. God only knew what would happen if they caught up to her. She'd assaulted the 'big boss'. Green eyes scanned the jungle floor intently, trying to discern which way would be downhill. From the look of it, that was to her right. Downhill meant water, and that would likely mean a river. Preferably one that moved fast. She took off again, all the while watching around her for signs of any pursuers or- God forbid- an actual uncaged tiger or something. Doug had said there were tigers. After a while the faint sound of running water met her ears, making a short laugh bubble up from Ash before she could stop it. There was her escape, so close she could almost taste it. "No no no!" She skidded to a halt at the last second, only realizing right at the edge that the ground wasn't level like she thought it was... That was why the water had sounded so quiet. Not because it was far away, but below her. For a second she only watched in vague horror as the rocks she'd kicked up fell into the ravine below until she picked herself up again. "Ok..." She probably could survive the jump, but in all honesty she preferred to just find a bit of a shorter drop. Up ahead there was a frightfully rickety looking bridge, but that wasn't going to help her get into the river- nor was it empty, she noted with a cold chill. How had they already made it so far ahead? She didn't even know she'd be coming this way, so how did they? And, what were they doing just... leaning against the post like that? Squinting in the moonlight Ash realized the answer with a flood of relief. "Scorcha?" She whispered, casting her eyes back to the jungle in case of nearby pirates. "Is that you?"

It was like she couldn't breath. Her chest was tight as the deep lingering throb engulfed her entire leg. In the back of her mind she knew...she just knew that it would fester. Dirt and rocks had come into contact and who knew what from the trees in her frantic bolt from the camp. Yet consciously the wound was the least important thing on her list of priorities. A list in which she reflected upon and was uncertain where to start with. There was a note of unrest in the camp, in the distance men shouted and screamed and guns fired into nothing. They were just men...flesh and blood men with guns. They weren't trained soldiers, they didn't know how to handle captives properly, they were just bad people given an island to do their bad things upon. And that was what they relied on in the end, the island. Sure a slave could run...but to where? Into the maze of trees and flowers and animals hiding in the undergrowth? Down to the sand where they would do what? Try to swim? Sorcha doubted that there was other company on this island...why would there be? This was an illegal operation, a kingdom built on slavery, pain, and death. They had to have selected this place because it was anonymous, outside of well traveled trade waters and off the grid to enemy eyes in the sky. This island like many others was just one little pin on the map of thousands of islands in any given channel. They chose it because it was perfect, no one to see and no one to hear. This entire protruding spit of land was within itself a much larger prison outside of the prison. There was no where to run to, no one to help, and it was only so many times hide and seek would end in their favor. While these men were not trained, they knew this terrain, they would find them. Maybe not tonight. But tomorrow or the next day. There was no definite time frame but she knew. She knew that man. I should have killed him. She thought to herself as her body slid downward in total defeat, unable to run anymore, unable to think. His men were one thing...but he was something else entirely. There was a power in him that was frightening. The way he had flung his knife into Bryan's chest was expert, effortless, as if he'd done it a thousand times before. Slowly she lifted the gun, the heavy black piece of metal in her hand, panted just slightly darker with a camo pattern. Just looking at it she could tell it was meticulously maintained and shined often, she knew because the barrel had slid easily instead of catching and grinding on itself. This boy didn't play with his weapons, but he did play with his food. Almost like he had gone through this very same thing over and over and over again so many times that it didn't surprise him. He must have lost and hunted down many other girls before her. And he retained such a confidence in his own ability to handle a woman that his own confidence had been his mistake when it had come to her. Or maybe something was truly different this time. Maybe she was the first to handle things differently, the first to play into his self absorption and use it to her own advantage rather then cower and cry like so many others before her. She wouldn't have been surprised. Sorcha never was a very sensitive person to the world around her, and sometimes it was hard to understand the feelings of others too. Scratch that it was impossible for her to understand these days. But she understood that pirate and his rage, she had fucked him up – he would come for her. She knew it. I should have done a lot of things differently. She was thinking about her friends, where they were and what was happening to them right at that moment. Her fingers dug into the wound upon her leg to stifle the blood flow and she cringed as she slowly inched out of the now button-less over shirt she had been wearing, her skin cooling against the humid jungle air from sweat. And pulling her arm out of the garment she twisted it around her hand, released her wound and slid the second free before placing the fabric gingerly against her leg and wrapping the sleeves around her thigh. It was all she could do for it right and as she strong armed the knot as tightly as she could against the wound she cried out, hot tears finally rolling down her cheeks. “Sorcha? Is that you?” Amber eyes shot upward, the sleeve of her shirt still clamped between her teeth as she stared awkwardly towards the sound of her name. That sounded like Ash. For a moment she couldn't see the girl against the darkness of the jungle and her instincts had driven her to grab the gun as she rose slowly from the ground and raised her weapon outward. “Ash?” Sorcha called, unsure if she had actually heard anything at all as she blinked at the figure in the darkness, also unsure if that figure was truly alone or not. “Follow the blood!” Doug's voice tore out close by, interrupted by a chorus of grunts and the redhead left the post quickly, limping down the edge of the ravine with a slew of inaudible curses. They were coming. She had lingered here too long and now it was time to run again.

On a good day it would have been nothing to track and catch up with Doug and his little hunting party. None of them were particularly stealthy, trampling through the jungle with all the grace of newborn buffalos and shouting to one another. Very fucking sneaky. "You wanna shut the fuck up?!" Vaas snarled after them, managing to get up to something like a jog as long as he focused on anything except for how badly he was hurting. "For fuck's sake, you're gonna let the whole goddamn island know you're coming. You shot one of them?" He demanded, having noticed the smears of blood left everywhere from one of the girls trying to make her escape while wounded. "Which one? And give me your fucking gun, you'll shoot one of us before you hit them again." Already Vaas knew which of the girls had been shot, who else would it have been? Without a doubt that was HIS bitch's blood on the ground. Meant for an easy enough capture at the very least, but dammit, they were never as fun wounded. It wasn't like they were going to gently nurse her back to health once they brought her back, and that meant the bullet wound would just fester in the jungle heat. It would get infected and she'd wind up delirious and then just dead, and at the end of the day that meant no bitch, no money, no fun, but an absolutely livid Hoyt to have to handle. The man was never exactly pleasant to deal with, but God forbid one of his slaves died before he got his money. Made him completely fucking impossible to even be around and Vaas had already had enough of Hoyt's temper. It was her. Ash let out a breathless laugh of sheer relief as she ran for the girl, wrapping her up tightly in her arms before noticing a split second later the blood on her leg. She was never squeamish about blood, but this- two times in one day she'd seen far too much blood that belonged to people she cared about. And there was definitely a lot of it, already beginning to show through Scorcha's makeshift tourniquet and smeared all over her hands. She released her immediately with a hushed apology, eyes widening when she stepped back to really look at her. "Oh my god. What hap-" He question was cut off by a familiar voice shouting, one that turned her expression to stone cold anger. That was definitely Doug. Which meant that Scorcha was right to begin limping away as quickly as she could, and Ash was quick to follow behind her. If those men were this close already, that meant escape on foot was not going to be possible when nursing a bullet wound. "Listen," She hissed, ducking to place Scorcha's arm over her shoulders to better support her. "You can't outrun them like this. I had an idea," She whispered, glancing down meaningfully at the rushing water below. "We jump, and we make it far enough away that we buy ourselves some time to find a place to hole up for the night. You know I'm a strong swimmer. And I can't do this alone," She added with a sigh. She really couldn't. She could keep running, but eventually they'd catch her. Scorcha was the fighter, even though it bothered Ash to no end to have to rely so heavily on her already wounded friend. "Jump with me and I swear I'll figure out how to start taking care of myself after we take care of you." She glanced down again at the river, eyeing the rocks at the edge of it glinting in the pale moonlight. If she maybe took a bit of a running jump, she could clear it easily even with Scorcha's added weight. But it didn't exactly seem right to just make the leap without having asked... "Half of you get over the bridge, half search here!" That was definitely Vaas' voice. Not close enough to see them yet- yet, that was the key word- but another few seconds of internal debate and he would be. He definitely wasn't alone, either. She couldn't even count how many other men's voices she heard, not that the exact number mattered. Vaas alone was terrifying enough. Swearing under her breath, Ash nudged Scorcha to the very edge of the rock face and unhooked the girl's arm from her shoulders to take a few steps back. "I'm really sorry," She murmured, knowing full well it wouldn't be fun for either of them, least of all Scorcha. A quick breath to steel herself and she sprinted forward, tackling Scorcha into the open air and thankfully clearing enough space to only hit water. Small blessings. About a heartbeat later Ash couldn't have cared less about small blessings once they began free falling into the ravine, the water below rapidly getting bigger in her sights until impact. It was hard enough to knock her senseless, would have been enough to keep her out cold if it hadn't been for the temperature of it. This place was so hot, how was the water this freezing cold? Didn't matter now, with having let Scorcha go once they'd hit the water. She kicked to bring her head above water, gasping in a grateful breath of air after having lost it all in the shock of the hit. Where the hell is she?

The figure came running towards her and in an instant Ash's weight was against her and she was forced to take a step back as she pointed the gun away, towards the sky in a random direction, instead of at her friend. Breathing heavily outward, Sorcha practically hissed as the startling realization that it was her friend whom was alone that she had just been threatening to shoot revealed itself. Leave it to Ash to run towards a gun instead of away...Christ. But she couldn't be mad at the girl – and she embraced her just as tightly. “You're here...” The redhead whispered almost in disbelief, and she wondered just how in the nine hells did she manage to get away? And she didn't even seem hurt either. “It's a flesh wound.” Sorcha reassured her, pushing the girl downward along the edge of the ravine as the shouts rang out louder behind them. There was no time to worry about the bullet in her leg. The had to move and do it quickly. She hissed again as she fell against Ash when she wrenched her arm above her head and over her shoulders. “Ow! ... fuck...just watch me...” Came Sorcha's angry reply even though she knew that Ash was right, she didn't want to admit that she was hurt...badly so. And that she was only human and that she couldn't just drag on like a terminator, as much as she would have wanted too. She knew that she just couldn't. And she knew that she couldn't get away...she could barely walk. But Ashley could. Ash could run and leave her behind...she could kept them distracted long enough for her to make an escape, find somewhere to hide – but the girls suggestion made her stop and look the girl square in the eye for a few seconds in shock before she looked sidelong down into the raging chasm below. That...was a really long time to say goodbye right there...a permanent kind of goodbye. Doug really wasn't what anyone would look at an consider anything like a leader or a functional soldier for that matter. He didn't seem like a fighting type, just this easy going calm ass guy who was hard not to love in one way or another. He knew just what to say and when to say it...but he was like two different sides of the same coin. He had a dark side to him that was a lot darker then most, and right now it was rearing it's ugly head. The second the commotion had rattled through the camp he knew exactly why, he'd expected no less, and he knew it was just as much his job to recover the ones that ran as it was Vaas'. Doug brought them here in the first place, and until he left the island they were still technically his responsibility. And that was cool, Hoyt liked it that way and so did he. It meant that he got to be a little mean every once in a while and that Doug liked very much. And that feeling? Listening to Sorcha scream and watching her writhe on the ground a bloody mess? Well maybe he wasn't as exhausted as he thought he had been once he was finished with his broken toy. A new excited had bubbled up inside of him to watch her hurt and when she ran...it was even better. Even if the situation was complete and total shit right now it didn't stop him from fantasizing all the horrible things he would do to that redhead when he got his hands on her again. And not even Vaas' sudden and unexpected appearance behind them could sour his good ass fuckin mood. Doug glanced back just long enough to watch Vaas try to look normal and failed at it. He saw the way he jaunted around and struggled to try to catch up – not that his ugly mug wasn't enough of a hint that the fearsome Rakyat Warrior had gotten beat the fuck up by a little girl. Doug could only imagine just how that had actually happened, then again...he already knew. Sorcha wasn't something you took your eyes off of – something you didn't trust with anything ...especially if she didn't like you. “Well shit man, at least I still got my bitch on lock.” Doug taunted as his gun was swiped from his hand, “How the fuck did she roll you anyway?” She'd been about to protest, to shove the girl away and tell her to get running on her own when the shout of a familiar pirate rang out and she turned to see the bushes shaking and two of many popped out into the clearing, bolting towards the bridge which they practically flew across with little care about just how old and broken it looked. The idea of the ravine sounded better all of a sudden and as Ash apologized Sorcha realized that her opinion hadn't even mattered in the first place. Ash was stubborn like she was and when Ash wanted something, nothing stopped her. But for Sorcha it wasn't the idea of dying down in that ravine that made her choke on another upwelling of tears, not the pain, it was the sight of Doug as he burst out through the tree's with the pirate king himself. She was leaving her woman in the caring hands of those two monsters and their demonic overlord. Her tear stricken expression morphed into rage then as she met Vaas' gaze and Ash collided into her. Seconds later she was falling, the haze of the ravine a blur as it stretched upward at a blazing speed. Just believe. And the pixie dust will work. She thought, and in and instant she collided with the churning surface of the river which reached out aquatic arms to engulf her into itself and in an instant her world went black. “They jumped!” Doug's eyes rolled in their sockets as he reached the edge of the ravine, leering downward into the churning river below but seeing not sign of bodies nor life. The water would empty out into the ocean a few miles away – that was where they would have to run to. “Do you think they survived?” The pirate asked and Doug slowly reached up to clap the man on the shoulder. “Go find out.” He grinned as the pirate was turning to look at him, taking a few seconds to register the meaning of the sentence before the Dj shoved the man over the edge as well. In an instant consciousness returned to her and her chest burned as she gasped for the sweet nectar that was called air as her eyes snapped open, stinging against salt water as she lurched onto her stomach, hands digging into the soft white sand as she crawled up from the surf that hammered against her back and drowned her again briefly before it receded. “...ugh I didn't believe...” Sorcha coughed as she slithered through the sand, “Now I'll never be able to fly...” Still gasping for air as she came to lay down against the beach in exhaustion. Breathing heavy she re-articulated herself to her new surroundings, slowly rolling to her back next to blink upward at the night sky before looking to the side at a dark object in her peripheral. “Nice turtle...” She whispered, watching the large beast meandered by at the slowest pace known to man, completely indifferent to the half dead human sharing the beach. “Ash?” Sorcha called weakly, looking around for her lost friend.

#far cry #far cry 3 #rp #fanfic #vaas montenegro #citra talugmai #hoyt volker #oc #doug #dennis rogers #lions and lambs

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maleficfiction · 10 years

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Lions and Lambs Chapter 2 : Be Strong

Doug's pace slowly slightly as he looked sidelong down towards the green eyed blonde. It hadn't been hard to notice the way she'd laughed and been smiling, it could have been considered a strange reaction to some, while others it might have meant nothing at all. But the DJ knew better – you see Vaas did these things for a reason. He didn't often lay hands on the women, not like his men did, but he knew how to hurt them without leaving any marks. Killing Bryan? Well not only was he weeding out the troublemaker and a surplus one at that, he was inflicting a sort of deep wound upon all three women. IT was a display of his power and status. Look at him, he was this big mean fucker, who had just killed your big strong heroic friend ...and there wasn't shit any of you could do about it. Vaas just liked to be the center of attention really, but he was also working and he was good at his job. He knew how to make them and break them all. Killing Bryan was meant to break them. And it had. But maybe not in the way that Vaas had expected. Sometimes...people broke for the better. While others broke for the worst. He had glanced back at Scha'tzi knowing well she would be the first to be sold of the lot, all the work in taming her down had happened back on that beach. But Ash and Sorcha? Well he couldn't see Sorcha well but he managed to glance her leering at Vaas back there, no longer crying, but barely there either. They were still on their feet to some degree. They'd taken the blow and it hadn't knocked them to the ground yet. It would take more then a knife into some douchebag meat sack to break these two down.

A little more time with the boss for them it would appear. But Doug was past caring for their well beings. Once they hit the sand? They were nothing to him but objects, dainty little objects he had gone through meticulous heights to take pristine care of until delivered into the right hands. From here on out they were Vaas' responsibility to maintain. Not that the guy minded, he loved the bitches something fierce. And he loved killing the men even more. God knows there are plenty of those to unload lead into all night long. While Doug? He loved the money alone. And the second he hand it in his hand he was outta here. He glared upwards at the canopy, suddenly reminded that he hated this damn place. All full of bugs and snakes and goddamn dragons...and it was hot as fuck all the time. He grumbled as he raised the pistol to scratch the back of his glistening neck. “You're a better person then I am then.” Doug replied cruelly and looked back at her, “Did you love him or something?” As if that was ever a proper question to ask someone who was grieving – almost as if it were impossible for then to actually be friends – and the fact that she mourned a friend must have meant something more. Sorcha had almost tuned him out were it not for the smile that he cast at her that made her nerves burn and her chest tight. That grin was evil. Pure evil. Not like she had been talking to him to begin with but she supposed it might have seemed that way. But it didn't change the situation any. She looked at him quietly while he chattered on and one with a slight sneer on her face. Everything was beginning to hurt and a headache threatened now thanks to the stress of crying. But the sadness was waning in her, slowly being replaced by the creeping vice called wrath. And the more she looked at him the angrier she got. That fucker had killed someone very dear to her, had his nerve to laugh about it. Well...she would laugh when she killed him too. They were all friends here right? It would be funny. He touched her then and she stiffened, sucking in a sharp angry breath through her nostrils as her skin crawled. The nerve of that mamon. The severity of the thought hadn't sunk in until a little later as she was lead into the camp and suddenly the convoy broke into all sorts of direction. Ash was taken with Doug one way and Scha'tzi had completely reappeared in the confusion of meandering bodies and she fought against the heavy gunner's hands as he tried to lead her into the opposite direction of the other two. “Ash!” Sorcha called, “Scha'tzi!” “Shut up!” A hand collided with her face and she fell back into the rusting metal wall of one of the buildings and the man seized her up in her daze, again throwing her over his shoulder as he carried her to her cage. She hit the ground again hard and she grunted as she rolled backwards and hit the shafts of the bamboo cage. Blinking back into focus the cage was slammed shut and locked with a heavy black chain and a padlock to match. Then as she sat there in a pause she took in the camp around her and listened to the sounds of countless men talking and yelling and laughing, but she couldn't see any of them. And she realized that she was alone in an obscure corner of the camp, except for the heavy gunner he turned back around the corner at some point and leaned against a wall with a cigarette. She looked at him the same way she looked at Vaas as she lifted up to her feet and moved to the cage doors, arms sliding through the bamboo shafts as her forehead rested upon a higher one. She was watching him closely and when he noticed he chuckled inwardly to himself then went right back to ignoring her. She looked sidelong to the chain then, arm snaking around to touch the lock, which was heavy – probably made of iron. There was no way of prying that open with brute strength alone. She released it then, her hand hanging again like the other one. Her friends were somewhere else in this camp. She had to save them somehow...but she had to get out of here first. Ransom The word popped through her mind and she frowned at the thought of her poor mother, who had no idea the fate of her child. She worked in a convenience store, a job in which Sorcha wished she would have gotten out of. She had no money – she barely was able to live. And the poor woman was in such poor healthy lately...the news might have just killed her on the spot. A ransom would have been useless on her...but he didn't know that. Just like he didn't know just how cruel of a mother fucker Scha'tzi's father could be. Of the three it was her who came from privilege...but that privilege came at certain prices. Scha'tzi had been disowned by her family in order to be with Sorcha as a teenager, and they hadn't spoken in years. But she knew that man – and she wouldn't be surprised if he paid these pirates to keep his daughter and then some to sell her off. Not that they were ever going home anyway. These men, many of them didn't wear masks, the leader didn't wear a mask. That meant they had no intentions of letting them 'go home' as the case be. But that didn't mean she couldn't work that to her own advantage. The guy said he would come back when she cooled off. He had no idea how cool she could pretend to be, cause if there was one thing she had learned from Scha'tzi – it was how to be a good actress. “Hey.” Doug snapped suddenly, close to the bars, and looking downward as Ashley, “Don't look at me like that.” the gun had come up into eye line briefly, but he held it more like a toy than anything. “You did this to yourself, you didn't have to say yes to me.” And there it was, the blame game. Doug wasn't responsible for anything...ever. True it was their decision to welcome him, a stranger, into their group. True they all agreed to walk into that boat with him, to go to some fantastical island where 'you could do anything'. True they had trusted him. But that was their only crime. Doug's job had only been made easier by their willingness, but he omitted what he would have done had he actually told him no. It wasn't actually like they had a choice to come here in the first place. They didn't. And if they hadn't walked into this island...they would have been drug here instead. That was just the nature of the operation, he had a quota to fill. He dropped down to kneel in front of her, cupping his wrist in his hand. “You know. I can make it easier for you here, if you want. I can make sure you go somewhere nice, you just gotta do something for me.” A cackle rang out, cutting Doug's sentence short and a smirk crawled onto his face as he sprung up and turned on his heels to find the source of the noise. “Hey big boss.” Doug greeted as a lankly man sauntered towards him wearing rough loose jeans and a blazer, a lit cigar nestled between his lips. “You're here...early...” The DJ added, slightly confused. “Sorry to disappoint you Douglas.” The man replied, a trill South African accent as he stood before the man and pulled the cohiba from his lips. He was an older man, middle aged, with black hair that seemed to have receded back on one side of his head only, or that it had been scarred in the past, “I've been here for an hour.” He added with suddenly quiet tone. “....you have?” Doug replied meekly. Hoyt grunted in response, “And you do know why Douglas?” He asked, his tone rising, but Doug didn't dare to answer him. “BECAUSE YOU AND THAT WORTHLESS LITTLE SHIT I CALL MY RIGHT HAND CAN'T DO ANYHTING RIGHT!” Oh boy....boss was on one today. Doug merely bowed his head, “There was a few ...problems.” He tried to explain. “I don't care!” Hoyt snapped, disinterested in explanations. Hoyt sighed, looking sidelong into the cage to find Ashley, “I was hoping Vaas was the one to blame. But here I see you...thinking with your cock. I'm very disappointed, Douglas.” Doug looked down again shamefully. The cigar slid between his lips again as he puffed upon it angrily, glaring downward at the green eyed blonde and his mood slowly waned. He'd been here looking at all the new potential product for his profiting pleasure, a ship full of dumb idiots – a lot of them were too old or too ulgy for use which was to be expected of course...which meant more playtime for Vaas in the end. But after about five minutes of walking the lines of quivering and crying bodies they had all started to look the same...until right now. “My my aren't we a pretty thing?” Hoyt quietly commented, canting his head to the side as he grabbed his cigar again. Finally something worthwhile. Instantly Doug jumped into the good mood train, grinning slyly. “There are two others just as pretty, another blonde...and half a redhead.” The Dj replied, selling his product. Hoyt's brown quirked into his direction, “Half a redhead?” He questioned, just what in the fuck had Vaas done now he wondered. “Not like that boss.” Doug corrected him quickly, “Her dad was Irish.” Hoyt squinted at him before looking back down at Ash, not having any damn idea what Doug was even trying to say. “Is he making any sense to you, ghali?” Hoyt questioned, offering a puff of his cigar to her.

Up until that point Ash had managed to keep emotion out of everything, but of course it would have to be Doug to change that. Taunting her about her dead friend, her naivety and purposefully keeping her from her living ones wasn't enough, but now he wanted this? Bile rose in the back of her throat and normally non-existent anger flared at the mere thought of it, yet at the same time... An idea blossomed. Escape had of course been at the forefront of her thoughts, hindered by the compound teeming with pirates who wouldn't just let her waltz on out. Surely Doug would want to be alone for the however long he wanted her for- was there ever a better chance than that? He'd offered something awful but in doing so he'd be literally opening the door for her, and once she was alone with him Ash was positive she could figure something out. For the first time since setting foot in the pirates' company she felt a tiny flutter of hope in her chest, and an agreement had been right on the tip of her tongue. Then Doug had risen at the sound of another man's voice, and one look at Hoyt told her that Doug would probably no longer be her method of escape. Ash had assumed Vaas was the top dog around here, but everything from the way the man walked to the way Doug watched him warily spoke otherwise. Just as soon as it was there, the tiny flutter of hope was gone. The upside to the whole thing, she mused, was the immense sense of satisfaction she got from watching Doug practically cower from just a look from the man. That too quickly vanished when Hoyt had turned to look at her- God help her, even if she did hate Doug with every ounce of her being, she really didn't think she could handle watching someone else die in front of her. There were still streaks of Bryan's dried blood she hadn't been able to wipe off on her hands. Thankfully his temper quieted and he no longer seemed ready to shoot the DJ where he stood, just sounding irritated with the man. What the hell did he even mean, half a redhead? All at once the thought occurred to Ash that he might have tried to describe Scorcha's auburn hair when it glinted red in the sunlight... Not that she was going to say anything that could help Doug. "No," She answered softly with a half-shrug. As an afterthought she accepted the offering of the cigar, figuring she might as well. Even men on death row got some kind of last comfort. With no warning a loud drumroll sounded from the side of Scorcha's cage, sounded by a very pleased-looking Vaas. Once satisfied he'd caught the girl's attention he tossed aside the sticks he'd picked up to move to the front of the cage. "I told you I would come back." Still toting Doug's camera he dropped to the ground to sit cross-legged in front of Scorcha on the other side of the bars. "Have you done your thinking? I hope so. You might want to..." He mimed wiping beneath his eyes, indicating for Scorcha to clear away the dried tear tracks. "You have a meeting in a little bit, but I still thought we could chat first, huh? Get to know each other. Your girl says hi, by the way."

Icy teal eyes stared down the blond through the bamboo shoots as he turned the cigar in his fingers, holding the filter towards her through her cage and watching as she leaned forward and closed her lips around it. He watched as the embers ignited, leaving behind more ash upon the tip as the smoke lazily lurched upwards. He smiled when she had finished, despite whether she coughed on the harsh substance or not, and he with drew his hand. “You have good taste ghali. I like that.” He said softly as he plunged the cigar into the ground to extinguish it before stuffing it into the folds of his jacket. He reached upward again, fingers coiling around the back of her head as he tilted chin back with his other hand to have a better look at her. He scrutinized her features for a moment and released her, clearly having no apprehension of her attacking him as he drew back, though still crouched. “Very nice.” He mused, looking over her huddle shape. “I do hope my men have treated you kindly.” No he didn't but what would she know of him anyway? “What was this cunt over here trying to make you do? Suck his cock?” Hoyt answered own question, giggling at he rose up to his feet. “He doesn't deserve such sweet lips.” Doug blinked at him, confused for the second time in five minutes. He always got his pick of the litter so to speak – but not this time? What's up? “Feel free to spit at him anytime you like.” Hoyt added as he turned to face the DJ again. “What problems were there then?” He ordered, apparently now interested in explanations. Doug leaned back a step. “There was a idiot. Got himself killed.” Hoyt's eyes rolled in their sockets and he nodded knowingly, “There's one in every family, right?” The roll of his voice was harsh, “So where's your camera?” finally Doug realized he was without it and absently he reached to his side, but found that it wasn't there. Then he remembered – he gave it to Vaas who hadn't given it back. “Vaas has it.” The DJ replied and Hoyt hummed in response, moving to the cage bars again, this time looking down at his captive. “So what's your name girl? Where are you from? Family...friends?” He paused, “Tell me everything.” Click clack clack CLACK. The noise was obnoxious as her eyes closed and her ears pounded each time the stick hit the bamboo shoot, head throbbing more then it already had been. Slowly she turned her forehead upon the cage, looking sidelong at the wifebeater as he sauntered around the corner of the cage. It was amazing how quietly he walked...being such a giant asshole and everything. Sorcha looked at him without a word and frown upon her lips but she didn't flinch from her relax position. Wiping her eyes upon her forearm probably didn't help much but she did so anyway and returned back to true jailbird position. Not even bothering to be polite and sat down as well. She liked the view of him down there better then three inches higher anyway. He looked a lot better on the ground. She looked down her nose at him and that damn camera. She was going to break that thing if she ever got her hands upon it. “I've thought about a lot of things.” She replied, the neutrality of her tone eluding that she thought about things other then what he wanted her too. But the comment about Scha'tzi managed to earn him a small sneer. But whether it was a sneer about him being near her woman or just the thought of the woman herself was anyone's guess. Her fingers twitched idly in the air as she looked at the heavy gunner again, who was looking sidelong at Vaas.

Vaas only grinned in response, turning to look back at the gunner with a nod toward Scorcha, as if to say This fucking chick, man. "Come on, chica." He patted the ground in front of him invitingly, like it was a wonderful offer and the girl was a fool to turn him down. "How are we supposed to get anywhere without communication? That is the KEY to all good relationships. You have to communicate." He nodded sagely at his own advice before looking back down at the little camera screen to shake his head fondly. "Look at that." He turned the screen to show Scorcha the paused screen, focused on her and Scha'tzi obviously in a disagreement. "You see? That is why you have to have communication. You can't talk to her now, but..." He held his hands up defeatedly. "What can you do?" Vaas paused to look up at Scorcha's face, ever impassive as she continued to stare down at him. "If you're playing the silent treatment, that is not a good idea." He rose to his feet and moved to the side of the cage to more closely regard her. "I don't like playing games." To punctuate his statement, his free hand had come up to slam his fist against one of the bars as he glared down at the girl, all trace of his jovial mood now gone. For a split second Ash had considered attacking once Hoyt had started reaching through the bars to touch her face, but quickly decided against it. Maybe her 'bad news person' alarm had failed her miserably with Doug but it certainly didn't with Hoyt. She wouldn't have thought twice about attacking Doug had he tried anything of the sort, but she preferred not to think of the consequences if she tried anything like that now. Instead she stayed still while he looked her over, letting out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding once he'd released her. She almost laughed aloud at his question- Why, yes, in fact that IS what Doug was trying to make me do, thank you for asking.- but a moment later her brows furrowed in confusion. He doesn't deserve such sweet lips. That... was definitely not what she expected to hear from anyone on this hell of an island. God only knows what he wants, then. Still Ash deemed it a better option to keep playing polite than risk whatever wrath this man was capable. She'd already learned if Doug was afraid of someone, there was probably a good reason for that. "My friends are here," She answered after a moment's hesitation. "The blonde and the half-redhead." Southern hospitality or not, she couldn't resist throwing Doug the verbal jab.

Well wasn't that just the truth? For the moment the pirate was right, they did need to communicate. And communication was a nice thing to have in a relationship, in any relationship. But there was such a thing as bad communication and that was were things got noxious between folks. Hell this pirate might have known all about bad relationships, she doubted he had the capacity to keep healthy ones around. Yet he obviously was speaking from experience...and she wondered what sort of moron would have actually been with this fucker. She stopped herself in her own thought, evidently that person was actually her now...as he sort of insinuated. Just the idea that he considered her something that was his was unnerving enough. Right cause who would actually willing hang off his arm? No one. She hoped. She moistened her lips as she looked grimly down at the camera screen. She could almost feel that slap still. What was sad here was that he had seen it too and he now knew there was turbulance between her and Scha'tzi. And if he was smart he'd use it to his own advantage, that meant she'd put Scha'tzi in further danger if she didn't play his little game for now. His mood shifted quickly when she didn't respond to him, too lost in her own thoughts until he struck the cage and she was snapped back into reality. Still she didn't flinch as he might have expected. “The kind of games that you don't win...you mean.” Sorcha replied, turning her head against the bars before she drew back into her cage and sidle to the corner to face him. Reaching out she grabbed the bar just beneath his fist. “So...relationship guru – what shall we talk about then?” She asked, looking upward and canting her head down to see him clearly through one of the square openings, she could have stuck her head out ...but that was probably a worse idea then coming into grabbing distance. “You're name is Vaas right?” She'd play his game and for now he could win if he wanted too, right now he was given the power he was so upset about not having. Cause he was right, communication was the key right now. And right now that would be her weapon. Hoyt blinked slowly at her, as if he was expecting more of an answer out of her then that. But she avoided his questions. She was pretty but she wasn't very smart was she? Hoyt cleared his throat suddenly, reaching an arm back to Doug. “I know your 'friends' are here. How stupid do you think I am?” He growled as Doug fished into his khaki shorts to extract the stack of cards he had stolen and stowed away, passing them down into Hoyt's hand. He sighed as he brought them forward, flipping through each card idly until he found the one that he was evidently looking for. “Ashley Cordell...” Hoyt spoke her name as he inspected the piece of plastic with a sort of business man intensity. “You're a Taurus.” He smiled knowingly, “I'm a Sagittarius myself.” Blue eyes looked back down again, “Twenty four...from Texas. “ Hoyt hummed in general intrest, “Ahh the bible belt.” He looked at her again, this time darkly – hinted with perversion, “Are you a religious girl Miss Cordell?” He chuckled, “Religion. The greatest conspiracy known to man. And to think...some genius in a castle somewhere decided to write this little book of rules and claim it divine.” He chuckled again, shaking his head, “And people actually believed it... isn't that fucking hilarious?”

- Slowly the tension drained from Vaas' shoulders as Scorcha stepped forward, now actually speaking more than two syllables at a time and going so far as to take a verbal jab at him. "So you DO speak!" He exclaimed with a grin, as though he'd never even been angry in the first place. "Good. That's really good." He drummed his fingers on the nearest bar idly, looking incredibly pleased with himself now. "So. You know me but I still don't know you. Fuckin'- Doug still has all your ID's and I don't know where the hell he's at. I know he didn't leave," He added gleefully, holding up the camera. "Swear to god he's got more of a hard on for this thing than any bitch. So you can tell me your name. And who I am calling. And then I thought we'd go make your video." He paused thoughtfully, glancing from the device to Scorcha and back again. "Maybe I can put it on the internet instead. You'd be famous! Like, one of those..." He trailed off, trying to think of the correct word to use. "You know, like the internet things they make, like with the dog and shit? Fuck, I don't know. Maybe that's why I'm not internet famous. Whatever; Fuck the internet peoples." Waving a hand like it would chase the notion away, he dropped back to the ground to stretch out and lean on one elbow. "You can sit down. I don't bite." Oh. So THAT was why they'd all been unable to find their ID's yesterday. Ash even recalled the four of them tearing their rooms apart looking for their licenses. Doug had even helped, shaking apart the contents of suitcases and bags. Maybe you guys just dropped them or something? Just dropped them, right. She wondered how long he must have been doing this to be able to lie like that and keep such a convincing front, when he'd probably had them in his pockets the whole time. At this point she wasn't even sure why she was so surprised Doug was behind that as well, but for now she had much bigger issues than Doug to worry about. Namely, the 'big boss' that was still here leering down at her. There went her plan of trying to stall for time and avoid questions. "I haven't been religious for a long time," She answered truthfully, by this point resigned to Hoyt taking no nonsense. It wasn't like she was a great liar anyway. "I never much liked the Southern Baptist churches. You don't believe in anything at all?" - She blinked, brows knitting and she finally register his accent. Spanish, but not strongly. Yet he didn't quite look Spanish himself, then again the closest she had ever come to Spanish was her mother who was South American. It was hard to differentiate races these days, especially when it came to Hispanics. But she wondered how he'd gotten all the way down here into tropical Asia like this. Not that it really mattered. Just being close to him was as sickening as it came, never mind the sound of his voice made her skin crawl. She was trying so hard to push down the anger she felt and resist the urge to scream at him. Trying to play nice was always hard for her. Where she came from playing nice got you killed. But she had to. For her girls' sakes. But this bitch...he had one of those smiles that just irritated people – made them want to smack it off his face. He was so close....just right there. She could just smack him, yank his face into the bars and make him ugly before he even had a chance to think. She didn't care if he was bigger nor stronger, the element of surprise always won. But that gunner back here was watching with a far more keen eye then Vaas, and he looked at her intensely as if he knew what she was thinking, a big panther waiting to jump on the fawn that wandered away from it's mother. She might have been able to daze Vaas but that guy would put her down and there was still this cage problem. She had to get out of this cage somehow. She moistened her lips slowly, cringing against the cut in her lip as she heaved a deep breath that made her chest rise and fall. The heat was terrible. Doug...the squirmy bitch. There was going to be a very special place in hell for that man when he got there and the realization that he had lifted her ID from her didn't come as any surprise, and it probably showed in the roll of her eyes as she looked away from the pirate as he leered downward at the camera in his hands. She looked slowly back at him, propped against the bars by the palm of her hand alone. She noticed the camera seemed to be focused lower then her eyes and when he glanced up she looked elsewhere quickly, trying not to look at him any more then she had to. He was the type to flip about any look he perceived as weird. But it was his next comment that left her blood boiling. Put it on the internet. She had suspicions of just what sort of movie he was talking about making...and the more she thought about it the viler the thoughts got and she shook her head, sighing as she stood straight. “Goddamn...” She whispered as her fingers combed through her hair, lifting the strands from her sticky neck and tossing them over her shoulder instead....it didn't help at all but she tried anyway. She snorted finally after he was finished rambling and decided he'd be more comfortable lying upon the ground instead. Sure he didn't bite. Just like how how pigs totally flew. Fingers pulled slightly at the throw shirt that she wore as she rolled up the sleeves and slowly lowered down to the ground, but rather then sit she merely crouched. “There's no one to call.” She replied grimly, looking down at the ground as she pulled at the few blades of grass in her cage, “I'm an orphan.” She was lying certainly, but she would rather her mother die wondering about her child...rather then witnessing some violent attack on her posted on the internet. “You won't get any ransom.” She added, “You'd be wasting your time otherwise.”. She groaned in her throat then, rolling her neck, realizing just how thirsty she had become and she swallowed dryly. “And my name is Sorcha.” She replied, reaching out to grip the bars again as her forehead hit the cool shoot, which provided at least a little comfort from the million degree weather. Hoyt snorted at the blond's question as he turned the ID in his fingers before bending it as far as it would have liked to go. “You're a sweet girl, Miss Cordell.” He commented, glancing back at Doug as if to thank him for finally bringing him something that wasn't a boring bawling mess on the ground, like that other blond. But he imagined he might have wanted to take a look at this 'half-redhead' at some point today. He watched as Doug paced back and forth, absorbed in his phone and rolled his eyes. Doug was probably the best Spotter that he had... and it was only because of that that the man stayed in his good graces and got a paycheck at the end of the day. But he had to admit...he was a vile little cretin wasn't he? All party and bark...but no smarts nor bite. That was Douglas in a nutshell really. But Hoyt preferred it that way. He didn't like displays nor did he like being around men that he didn't control, men that could overpower him either. Hoyt was a tyrant upon this island...be he only talked a big game yet did very little in action. Sure he wasn't above shoving a blade into the throat of the loosing player at his poker table...or cutting off a few fingers of a thief but these were just some of the things that Hoyt only did to his own. When it came to those damn natives he preferred guns...held in the hands of pawns rather then his own. And when he was faced with an enemy far to great for him – Hoyt resorted to material things like money and drugs and women. That was exactly what he did with that Rakyat of his, he bought him away from his people – but the boy was still just as loose of a canon for him now and he was back then. Hoyt in the end was the biggest coward of them all, though he would never admit it. Even he had his weaknesses. “I believe in enterprise ghali.” The tyrant replied, gesturing outwardly, “Global enterprise.” He grinned, always proud to talk about his life's work. He rubbed his hands together, “Why bother with fearing a God that an authorless book tells me too...” He took a step back, holding his hands outward, “When I can be a god here?” Was he fucked? Yes...yes he was. - Vaas' nose scrunched up in distaste and he sighed, but otherwise didn't show any indication of an oncoming mood swing again. "Well. Then that is unfortunate for you. Not for me." With a shrug he looked back down at the camera to rewatch the little scene play out, snickering to himself when the recorded Scorcha was slapped. "Oh man, I dunno, that just- That gets me every time I watch it. It's like, you would THINK. You would think that girl would have some fight in her, no?" He gestured vaguely to the camp as though Scha'tzi was in sight. "But no. All she's done is cry. Hey," He added, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "How much do you want to bet, that when Hoyt gets here, he's gonna say some shit about her? Huh? You watch." He pointed out at the empty space in front of Scorcha's cage. "He's gonna have something to say about her. You know I might just keep this fucking camera if Doug doesn't come get it. I mean it's not like I have anyone to send it to if you're all alone and shit, but I think it could be nice. Maybe I'll make a bunch of videos, like a TV show." He went back to examining it to absentmindedly rewind and fast forward the footage, occasionally looking up to see if anyone had come forward. "I feel like I should be apologizing, this is just bad manners." Vaas shook his head disapprovingly, ever the expert on manners and the lack thereof. "If I was you, I would say something when Hoyt gets here." To keep from laughing Vaas bit the inside of his own cheek as he glanced back up at the girl. Oh God he hoped she really would say something. No matter what Hoyt was going to yell- that was a given. But it was always kind of funny to watch him fly off the handle on someone else for a change, especially if that someone was getting yelled at because Vaas himself put them up to it. Not that Scorcha needed to know that, of course. Well, if Hoyt had seemed fairly sane before then Ash highly doubted he was now. He'd come across as just cruel rather than crazy like Vaas, but claiming to be a god? There was a delusion if ever there was one. Though of course Ash didn't voice any of this, only the pause in her chewing her lower lip as any sort of reaction for a brief moment. A god of an island full of kidnappers, murderers and tigers in cages? To each their own, she supposed. Though, one thing had struck her as odd. "Enterprise of what?" She questioned, glancing around at the pirate's camp. Something that had already been in the back of her mind came to nag at her now- they won't send you home- and looking at Hoyt now she wondered if that was more than just a panicked momentary fear. "Kidnapping hardly seems like a profitable business if people die at the rate I've heard." For a fleeting second her gaze shifted back to Doug. Why had she ever believed any of them? All three remaining vacationers knew Doug's face, where he operated. The horrible realization dawned on her then that no, they were never going to simply send them home. That still begged the question what happened to the people left alive in these cages. "What happens to the people he brings here?" - Her fingers tightened upon the bamboo shoots and the creaked in response. Though neither man noticed really. The gunner was enthralled in his cigarette while Vaas was sprawled out on the ground like a bum, too interested in the camera footage Doug had been capturing. The cage really was weak, the bamboo was dry and it was brittle, but the ropes binding it together were strong and fresh. She might have been able to break a few bars with enough strength and leverage, but hell be damned if she wasn't alone right now. On the other hand...the openings of the cage were far too large then what would have been considered appropriate for a cage of all things. And she could easily squeeze herself through them, again if she were alone and time was on her side. Then again... she somehow doubted either of them would notice anything that she did, they both were just so distracted. Evidently Vaas enjoyed watching her get smacked so much that he the time between glances grew by a few more seconds each time. She could have unbuttoned her shirt and flung it at him and he probably wouldn't have noticed right away...he was so damn interested in that damn camera. Typical male behavior though. So instead she watched him through the bars while he watched the camera, she doubted she'd be able to charm her way out the cage. “Thank her parents for that one.” Sorcha replied absently about Scha'tzi, not that she should have. Inside she was screaming and she felt herself shaking with the pent up anger. He better not have touched her. “Dad's a psycho. Mom's a pussy. She gets all his temper and all her mothers lack of spine.” There was a disconnect in her voice, almost robotic as if she'd said this sentence more then once. And she had. Scha'tzi was always getting into trouble and or acting out...and there she always was to save her from it all. To drag her kicking and screaming back home and into bed while others always asked 'what's her problem?'. Well … life really was her problem. She couldn't handle it. But blaming the parents was easiest, and everyone always nodded and sighed and said 'poor girl'. But Sorcha never bought into the excuse...because there was none. Scha'tzi had problems...problems she only made worse by protecting her in the end rather then just walking away and allowing the chips to fall where they may. And the price of that was a lot steeper then even she realized, but hey that's what hero's do right? Though right now she really didn't feel like one. Hoyt. The name slipped twice and she mulled it over in her mind. Hoyt. Who was this Hoyt? She leaned down to the side, lower down to the ground to peer out at him from a lower opening. “Hoyt?” She asked. The man's arms lower to hang at his sides again, idly reaching into his pocket to retrieve the ID's, filtering through them again. One by one they slid behind one another until he found what he assumed was the one belonging to “half a redhead” and it seemed to finally click what that meant. Doug had been talking about her hair, which even in the poor quality photo he could tell was deceptively brown. That dolt. He hummed in his throat then, half smirking. She was a pretty thing too, a trio of tens in a very ugly world. He imagined they they would fetch him a fine price, so fine a price that even if they couldn't ransom them off as well it wouldn't be a real loss. But Hoyt did so hate to loose any amount of money. And speaking of money... he had been standing here for some time now. Time that could be better spent elsewhere. And time certainly was money now wasn't it? And where was that stupid porcupine on legs anyway? He realized that he hadn't seen Vaas once since his apparent arrival. Hoyt knew that the boy was probably up to no good somewhere. And Hoyt so hated a slacking employee. “Well that goes to show just how little you know of how business works.” Hoyt finally replied, rudely at that. “And that my dear Miss Cordell, is something you will discover very soon.” Hoyt laughed, “Douglas will keep you company.” He stated, and at the sound of his name the sleazy DJ looked upward and stowed his phone back into his pocket. “You got it, boss.” He replied happily as he pressed his shoulder into the wall of the shack closest to him. Hoyt took his leave. Walking briskly across the compound, eyes flickering back and forth for any sign of his right hand, whom still he could not find meandering about anywhere, it was almost like he didn't even exist. “VAAS!” He finally bellowed. The holler made her jolt as the cut of a South African accent was brutal upon her ears. Instantly the gunner was three paces away from the wall in which he had been leaning on as Sorcha turned to find the source of such a sound, watching the man storm towards the cage. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing!?” The man was practically foaming at the mouth as he came into closer view, his boot shot out to strike the lounging pirate upon the ground as he bent forward. “Having a lie down are we?!” Sorcha cringed when he looked over at her and fell silent. There was a moment of silence then and a dry, heavy sigh exhaled from the Kingpin as he pinched the bump of his nose.“Get. The fuck. Up.” Came Hoyt’s final words to his subordinate, as he stood with tense shoulders. “I must apologize for my new recruit here.” Hoyt stated, looking back at Sorcha and smirking as he pointed idly to Vaas. “You see he’s like a stubborn dog. If you forget to beat him everyday he forgets whose boss, he starts thinking with his dick, and then he harasses the bitches without permission.” Sorcha only stared back at him. Hoyt chuckled, “What…isn’t that comforting?” Was he really fucking joking right now? Still she said nothing. “Ahh, a cool customer. I like that.” He chuckled again, flicking his hair away as he dropped down to her level upon the other side of the cage. Instantly she drew back away from the bars when Hoyt's hand reached inward, frowning when she back out of his range. “What? Are you frightened ghali?” Hoyt laughed, “You are a smart one. I can tell.” He continued, rising upwards to stand again, “But you know what else I can tell girl?” This must have been Hoyt...it had to be. “I can tell a troublemaker when I see one.” He was staring at her and she sneered back in return, “Yeah... you must be blind. Cause he's over there.” Sorcha cracked finally and Hoyt's lips thinned for a moment before he laughed again. “Aren't we brave?” Hoyt fished into his blazer to retrieve his cigar, “Vaas. Take care of the rejects...” The cigar was lit, but he never once took his eyes off her, “Take her with you. Make her watch every second.” - For the briefest of seconds, Vaas glanced up with something in his eyes that definitely hadn't been there before, probably ever. He of all people got the whole 'psycho family' thing, though just as he'd considered answering her, a familiar voice was screaming his name. "Fuck," He muttered just seconds before Hoyt was towering over him. He did in fact get the fuck up, dusting himself off as he did so and biting back an indignant snarl. Even if he was a good few inches taller than his boss, he still had no desire to get into an actual fight with him. He knew for a fact that in a fair fight he could beat the man to a pulp, no questions asked. But it was Hoyt, so a fair fight wouldn't happen. Vaas had already seen him deal with other men before, dozens of them. A quick stab or slice and a splash of blood and it was over, ending with the offender dead before he ever knew what happened to him. The man was quick as a snake and most of the time just as unpleasant. He vaguely wondered for a moment if the man was cold-blooded like the creature itself before quickly snapping back to attention as the word 'rejects' met his ears. All at once he was all grins and good moods again, not even pausing with Hoyt's demand that he take Scorcha with her. More bonding time, right? He excitedly drummed on the bamboo with his hands again, looking down at Scorcha as though they'd won the lottery together. "What? You don't look happy," He crooned, his smile melting into an exaggerated pout. "It's ok. Hermano!" He shouted to the heavy gunner, holding his hands out expectantly for the key to be tossed his way. With a newfound bounce to his step Vaas swung the cage door open after a moment of fumbling with the lock, but in a flash had his pistol back in hand. "Not that I don't trust you, chica. I know we're friends now, BUT..." He sighed and shrugged. "I don't like surprises." With Hoyt gone, that tiny flicker of hope had again ignited as Ash discreetly watched Doug. A quick survey of the place showed little activity now, as most of the pirates had gone to what Vaas had dubbed his 'stage' to keep an eye on the rejects. Ash didn't know this, but all she cared about was the two people currently there- herself, and Doug. Before Hoyt had come around she'd been trying to formulate some sort of plan but had scrapped it with the man's arrival. Now, though... Now she started to scheme again. The biggest thing her sort-of plan hinged upon was Doug's interest in her. Or, rather, what she could offer, but the point remained the same. With Hoyt's essential message of Fuck off, Doug, though, Ash ran into her first problem. She honestly had no idea whether he'd go behind Hoyt's back for anything, even with as put out by the refusal he'd seemed. If she outright brought the subject up herself, the man would have to know something was up. He wasn't that stupid. But, if she could maybe lure him back somehow... That was a truly disgusting thought. But he'd indirectly offered the key to this cage and dammit, Ash wanted that key. The question then became how exactly to gain interest again. The answer occurred to her seconds later after mentally complaining for probably the hundredth time about the heat, and beginning to tug the hem of her shirt up to dab at her damp forehead. Maybe she was onto something there. With a huff she sat forward to tug off the vest she still wore, only then completing the action she'd begun a moment ago. This is dumb. It's not going to work. Just think of something else that doesn't involve this. Even with all her internal debating, when she sat back to get comfortable again she made sure to leave a bit of skin on her side exposed. Just please be really stupid. - Yes Hoyt did know how to read people. And when he read her he saw the anger first in the way that she stood, the way she had been crouched, low to the ground but not on the ground – not relaxed like Vaas was or the gunner behind him. She was still, staring. Waiting for either the opportunity to lash out but more likely spectating each man's movements and demeanor. Looking for holes and weaknesses to exploit, scheming out a plan of escape. That was exactly what she was doing – Hoyt had seen it plenty of times before, and it was always a certain kind of person that possessed the ability to push away all logical reaction to their situation, to shut down entirely on an emotional level, and keeping only those emotions that would benefit them. Anger was one of those benefactors – because anger stunted fear and without fear... well anyone could do anything. It was this sort of ability that came from a lifetime of perfected survival in a dangerous place. From a street smart kid who had to learn how to steal to eat and learn to fly when caught. And as Hoyt spied the army tags that hung around her neck, which jingled when she shot backwards, his interested was further piqued. But what she a soldier … or an army brat? She acted a soldier certainly but she was hardly organized. Either way...he knew trouble when he saw it. And this one was certainly trouble. She had that look in her eyes that he'd seen in the eyes of many privateers. That subtle disgust of life, disgust towards him and the other two. Of course...Hoyt could understand. Any woman would be nervous surrounded by a bunch of smelly men. Vaas and the gunner of course. Certainly not him. Hoyt spectated her further as Vaas practically defied gravity and quickly opened the cage, finally let off his leash to run off an play. Sorcha stood still in the middle of the cage, watching the both of them, now having forgotten about the heat entirely. Her blood was running cold at the idea of what Hoyt mean by 'take care of the rejects'. What exactly did that mean? Every part of her was ready to break down against the chaos, her legs her weak, but she forced herself to continue to stand as the barrel of the pistol aimed into her direction. The gunner had moved in closer, standing just beside Hoyt and fumbled something in his hands. The cage was open. It was what she had wanted and the wave of the pistol told her to get the fuck out of it more or less and biting down on her tongue she moved across the grass, bowing her head as she emerged out from the cage meant for an animal. That was what the looked at her like...some animal with the benefit of tits. And just as quick as the snake that he was Hoyt's hand grabbed the tags upon her chest and yanked her forward. Sorcha hissed in response, glaring upwardly at him as he inspected the name engraved upon them. “Quentin Drake.” He read, “Army.” Blue eyes snapped upwards to her amber. “How did he die?” Hoyt questioned and Sorcha sneered at him, “In front of a firing squad.” She replied angrily, hand flying upward and scratching across his wrist as she ripped his hand from what was hers. Hoyt recoiled slightly, staring at her murderously. “You look uncomfortable, malaya.” Hoyt's terrible tone was deceptive to the grin upon his face, “Is it this goddamn heat?” Sorcha was already beginning to back up when the Kingpin shot forward, digits yanking into the front of her shirt as the flash of silver cut through the air and in an instant buttons had flown and threads ripped apart as the jungle air settled against her exposed chest and stomach. She'd slammed back into Vaas, eyes held tightly shut in anticipation of pain for a moment before they slowly opened to watch Hoyt giggle as he stowed his hunting knife away. “My men like to see a little skin Miss Drake.” He commented, idly gesturing to the torn open shred that was now her shirt and the red bikini she wore beneath it, “Red is their favorite color.” And with that Hoyt gestured to Vaas to get on his way from here with the petrified girl as he turned and took his leave until later. The gunner moved forward, looking pleased, as he seized her wrists and bound them (not very well mind you) with a dingy rope that looked like it might have been white at some point. Doug had gotten absorbed in his phone again whilst he leaned against the shack, eyes downward onto the device as his thumb glided across the keys with a chronic precision. Snickering to himself every so often and perhaps having forgotten about the butthurt he had been sort of experiencing within in Hoyt's presence. See when there was a bigger man around Doug was smaller, his tail between his legs, but when they left he began the big dog again and that cocky higher then thou personality mutation returned in full force. With Ash locked up he didn't have to watch her as closely as he had too before, not that he was worried about her. She was a good girl and she would play by the rules. Ash didn't have a mean bone in her body. Sometimes he'd wonder if she'd cry if she stepped on a spider or something. She probably would. That was just the price of being a shut in Catholic Southern Bell. As a woman, your duty was to serve the man. According to Biblical logic. And even if Ashley claimed not to believe anymore...it didn't mean she had acquired a spine that had been robbed of her in the first place. Even if she had, even if she attacked any one of them, she'd go down in one hit. She was just one little girl after all. Well he hoped something exciting like that happened, Doug always loved a good show, especially a sexually violent one. He had already seen his share of assaults by these pirates, both pure violent and worse. He'd seen many people die and beg for their lives. He'd help to humiliate some of them. That was the entertainment around here that he couldn't experience elsewhere. Watching someone screaming in pain was the ultimate high for him. He looked up inconspicuously as Ash squirmed in her cage and practically tore off the camo vest she'd been wearing and he smirked, lifting a brow in her direction. Who wore vests in the jungle? Seriously. Lady needed to learn to ditch the layers. Speaking of the fucking jungle, the growl of a very large cat had drifted through the camp from somewhere else, an angry roar caused by harassment most likely and hunger. Maybe it would break out and eat a few faces, now that would certainly liven up this party now wouldn't it. He remembered Ash's comment about there really being tigers and for a moment he contemplated showing her the beast but then again...he hadn't been given permission to remove her yet and he didn't feel like getting slice from balls to throat today. His phone sounded off suddenly in the silence while he'd been staring at Ash over there, admiring her pushed up cleavage thanks to her bikini underneath that ugly orange wifebeater. And his eyes dropped back downward, snickering again at the phone screen and humming perversely before pounding in his reply on the keypad. The pirates had their little communication network, Hoyt had his, and the Spotters had theirs on a global level, rather then in isolated areas. One of his fellow Spotters had been sending him snapchats of all the game he was hunting off in Bejing. And Doug had to admit...he was kinda jelly. “Man... as soon as I get paid.” He started, shuffling awkwardly to the cage as he flipped his phone around to show Ashley one of her new potential cage mates in the future, or rather the ass of said woman who was busy dancing amongst a sea of bodies, “I'm going straight too Bejing. Maybe I'll bring you back some new friends.” He alluded to the idea that Ash might not actually leave this place...and that the other two would never be seen again and from the corner of his eye he spotted Vaas, swagging down across the camp with the Heavy Gunner and a familiar half a redhead. “Aw man...” Doug whined, “I'm gonna miss the show.” - Of course that's what he was looking at, Ash thought with a mental eye roll. There really was only one thing on the DJ's mind, evidently. Whether she could make that work to her advantage was still up in the air, but something else he'd said had caught her attention now. Several things, really. I'll bring you some new friends. So her suspicion HAD been right. They wouldn't be leaving this place for the foreseeable future, a fact which Doug had to have known right from the start. The NERVE of that man. What concerned her more was the talk of this 'show', and the glimpse of Vaas dragging Scorcha along- who, she couldn't help but notice, looked quite a bit more exposed than the last time she'd seen her. "What show?" She asked quietly, watching with mounting fear for her friend's safety as more and more pirates followed after them. So that was why the place was a ghost town right then. Ash could only imagine what Vaas was up to, to have captured the attention of what looked to be nearly all of his men. "What are they going to do?" She stood to lean her head as far out of the cage as she dared, but by now Vaas and Scorcha had left her line of vision. She sighed, closing her eyes as she leaned her head against the bamboo to try and shut everything out for a moment. This was sheer insanity. She'd clenched her hands around the bars until her knuckles had turned white, but now they relaxed as Ash resigned herself to the fact that something awful was probably going to happen to Scorcha. The worst part was, Ash couldn't do anything about it. Not while she was trapped in here with Doug standing guard. Had it not been for his presence she was certain she'd have broken down and cried, but whether it was the Texan stubbornness or just her own pride she refused to let him see that. He'd probably enjoy it, matter of fact. As if they'd already known what Vaas wanted, several of the pirates had lined up the ship passengers Hoyt had dubbed 'rejects' along one of the wooden walkways of the compound. The entire camp was built to be off the ground to prevent floods wrecking the place in one fell swoop, but Vaas found that it made for a really nice dramatic effect. Specifically what he liked to call his stage, where the platform had been extended a few feet for aesthetics. It was a perfect time to do this, too, since the sun had begun to sink in the sky and cast dim light now on the people below. Vaas wrinkled his nose as he looked over the line. These ones were rejects for a reason, as most of them were much older than he'd been expecting. "Nena." He turned to motion with his pistol that Scorcha should come forward, then simply reached back to pull her along when she didn't move fast enough for him. "Don't be shy, we're friends now." Slinging his gun arm across her shoulders he guided Scorcha onward as he meandered down the line of crying captives, occasionally stopping just to terrify them further. "You know what's really crazy?" He asked suddenly, leaning in close as though about to share some kind of important secret. "You know in those scary movies, how the people have to shoot the dead ones in the head or else they won't die? Because you have to destroy the brain, right?" He mimed with his free hand firing into the head of the hostage at the end of the line, making the man flinch at the sound of the gun Vaas imitated. "It's like, you can cut off their arms and their legs and shit but they don't DIE. You wanna know why?" He glanced from the man to Scorcha expectantly, as though he really thought she was going to give him a constructive answer. "It's because people are like that! I can take this fuck and break all his bones and he would still be alive. If I cut off his arm he'd bitch about it but he could still live. But..." He turned with Scorcha still under his arm to raise his pistol to the man's forehead. "You destroy the brain, they don't come back from that." Satisfied that he'd given a good enough buildup, Vaas pulled the trigger to dispense a bullet neatly between the man's eyes. "See?" - The DJ lingered in his spot for a moment. Nothing but the sounds of the jungle between the two of them and the bellow of some distant howler monkey. Absently he had leaned against the bamboo shoots while he watched the line trickle past. To be honest, Doug wasn't exactly sure what was happening either. He knew that Vaas headed towards the stage...but as to why he was pulling Sorcha with him? That was a guess up to the air itself. Who knew what went through the pirates head half the time, he thought he was the man around here, then he turned around and put glowsticks in cats and shit and made stupid jokes while he weakly tried to embrace the modern age which he knew nothing about, he thought he did – but he really didn't have a clue. For a moment Doug wondered if Hoyt had rejected her and the girl was being drug down to her death, but the better part of him knew that Vaas wouldn't just kill something like that without playing with it first. That's what Vaas did with things he liked, he played with them. Much how a said cat will play with a mouse before slashing open its throat. Maybe that's what the pirate was planning to do...a little gore for dinner then some sweet desert for himself and his men. Then he'd clean up his mess. Doug really was getting jealous now. He was the star of this operation after all, he was the one who brought these people here and made the boss money. And here he was...babysitting. Well...it could be worse. And his dark eyes passed down to Ash when she asked what they were going to do. He could see the apprehension in her eyes as to the fate of her dearest friend. And he grinned sadistic like, a little game was in order here. He was tired of that blank expression she'd painted herself with...he wanted some tears. Doug turned and leaned closer into the bars, facing her. “I imagine they're gonna tie her up and take turns with her. Vaas'll go first, cause he hates sloppy seconds and you know he's the boss. Then the next guy and the next guy. They'll use her up til she can't take no more.” There was something frightening about the way that he spoke as he gestured with his hands vulgarly, “When she's a mess then they'll come grab another girl...maybe Scha'tzi next. Then they'll do the same thing to her...” He fell silent, watching her closely through the bars, “Then they're come for you.” He said darkly. “But it's all good in the hood.” He stifled a laugh, “It's not like any of you bitches are virgins or anything...well...maybe. But definitely not Scha'tzi.” He sighed, leaning against the bars again, “Might just get your rocks off. You seem like one of those girls that has all these violent fantasies and shit like that.” Fingers groped into his pocket for a much needed cigarette as the sound of a gun ripped through the air. “Eww.” Doug hummed, “She musta bit him.” - Fuck your nena... Sorcha thought angrily at the idea of having a pet name. Not that the idea of him using her actual name was any less disturbing. Names meant attachments. And these people were not the kinds of attachments that she aspired to in life. But fates had decided to fuck her and here she was, twisting her writs against the poor bindings that had been tight at first but had quickly been jostled free. The gunner she didn't suspect was trying to bind her literally, just make it easier to move her, and Vaas took advantage of it by grabbing the ropes and leading her alone like some sick pet of his. She couldn't help but glare at his back. She hated the feel of his fingers grazing against hers, felt like sand paper almost and he smelt of blood and cigarettes and a obviously sweat. A smell only amplified by the lumbering beast behind her and the line behind him. She hated them all. Just looking at them all gathered around for a spectacle, like they were going to watch a damn magic show or something. All slinging their guns around like toys...and there were some serious guns here. This place was like a fortress, these men a battalion. Like the South African was at goddamn war with the world...or with ghosts. Probably both now that she thought about it. A heavy arm slung around her shoulders and she cringed, leaning away from him. Fuck being your friend Was her next thought as she squirmed and came to look upon the line of individuals upon the 'stage'. Each one of them were frightened and tear stained, heads bowed down in horror. Afraid to look at anything other then the combat boots that he wore. The old man Scha'tzi had been talking to was there and he looked upwards at her, yet his expression was just blank. As if he had already resolved his fate and patiently he waited for the end. She didn't know if that was just something that happened when one got old ...or if there was something off about this man. She felt her heart sinking slowly in her chest just imagining what what going to happen. Hoyt called them rejects. Un-sellable. Get rid of them. She watched gun in Vaas' grasp, knowing well what was to be done. They weren't going to send them back, of course not. No...they were going to kill them. He was going to kill them...just like he killed Bryan. His breath hit her neck and she lifted her shoulder as if to shield herself form his closeness, eyes shutting tightly as he whispered into her ear. That voice was so full of cruelty. He was talking about zombies...maybe...and slowly she looked at him while he spoke to her but she didn't make the connection that he did between this situation and gore movies like that. Zombies weren't real... that was all movie fluffy and cheap scares. These people were real. These people could die. But then it all made sense right at the end, as to what he meant. But it wasn't funny. It wasn't even human. CRACK! She flinched as blood splattered across her chest and her face and she cried out slightly, mouth agape as the man fell backwards and the smell of gunpowder burned her nose. He shot him. An innocent and bound man. And she just watched... Quick as a snake she turned out from his arm and her hands collided with his chest, shoving the hulky pirate backwards from her person. “You son of a bitch! How was that fair!?” She yelled, “He couldn't even defend himself!” Just like Bryan...couldn't defend themselves. That was how he liked it wasn't it? He liked that look of no hope in their eyes before he snuffed out the last flicker of life left in them. He was sick...really sick. - Despite her upbringing and label as a Southerner, Ash was often extremely slow to anger. She hadn't even been angry about Bryan's death, just hurt. Listening to Doug talk now, though... That was pushing her to anger faster than anything had in her lifetime. It might not have been so if he'd been just been telling for the sake of telling, but he was standing there with a smile on his face. Like it was all some kind of sick game to him, and he'd just played some winning move. Violent fantasies, though? She had a few right about then. Several had involved reaching through and slamming Doug's face into the bars a couple times, while the one she was most strongly considering was yanking his arm through to break it. A few deep breaths was enough to keep from actually going through with it, especially when she considered that he might not even have the keys to this cell. Seemed that after he recovered things would only get worse for her unless she came up with something else quickly. Still she refused to back down from his stare, unwilling to give so much as a hint of reaction until the gunshot rang out. At once she forgot about Doug as her head whipped in the direction of the sound, her blood running cold. Suppose that madman HAD actually shot Scorcha? After what seemed like forever Ash finally drew in a shuddering breath as she turned back to look at Doug, biting down hard on the inside of her cheek to remind herself to keep her poker face. Somehow she'd gotten the distinct impression he liked tears, from how he'd watched the other two girls. I'm not giving you a goddamn thing. "No wonder you don't want to be here," She finally, able to keep all but a trace of coldness from her tone. "If they were all 'taking turns', that was going to be the only way she'd have ever given you anything. I guess I would be upset too." - Swearing harshly, Vaas caught himself right at the edge of the platform after he'd staggered back a few steps. Slowly he turned back to face Scorcha with wide eyes, his head again tipped slightly to one side. Below him the closest pirates scrambled to no longer be in front and give the madman a wider berth, none willing to be caught in the line of fire when Vaas lost his temper. "Yeah?" That same mad gleam as when he murdered Bryan had returned to Vaas' eyes, now focused solely on Scorcha. "So, what, you think you're tough now? Huh? Is that what you think? You think you get to talk to ME like that?!" By now he was screaming as he advanced a step on the girl, gesturing wildly with his gun and making several men below flinch when it swept over them. "In my own fucking house, you come in and you talk to me like that?!" Without looking away from Scorcha he raised the gun again, firing on the next hostage in line without so much as blinking. "No, no no no. The thing is... The thing IS," He repeated, all at once seeming to calm down as though murdering someone had relaxed him. "LIFE isn't fair, nena. You know what someone told me once? They told me, 'The weak are meat, and the strong do eat.' You understand that? It means THEY-" He swept his arm out in the hostages' direction, very nearly pistol-whipping the nearest living one in the process. "And YOU." This time he took aim for Scorcha's head as he slowly stepped forward until the barrel was pressed lightly against the girl's head. "Are nothing here. The most you have over them is a price. They're fucking worthless." For a tense few seconds his finger lingered on the trigger before he seemed to think better of it, and instead brought it to his own head to scratch behind his ear. "You know what?" Vaas asked quietly, a slow smile beginning to spread over his face. "You were right. It's NOT fair. It's not like it's your fault you aren't shit. Come here." Before Scorcha could attempt another attack on him he wrenched her back to his side, this time pulling her against his chest to face the hostages with him. "I'm gonna to help you. See that one?" He motioned with the muzzle toward the man Scorcha had made eye contact with before, grabbing up her hands to wrap them around the handle of his pistol and placed his own over hers to keep them there. "We're gonna do it together. Se que puede hacerlo," He whispered, carefully taking aim on the man. "I believe in you. Just pull the trigger." - He was waiting for it. The inevitable whimper, the brim of a tear, the heave of her chest as the realization dawned upon her about just how horrid of a place this was. Waiting her for little brain to reel with all the ideas and the images of what could happen to her, of all those sweaty faces and hard bodies against her own. Doug was pretty sure, of the four of them, that this one hadn't even been with a man before. She was an upstanding Southern Belle after all. Gotta wait til marriage...or some shit like that right? Doug just found it all so adorable. Poor little christian gal, brought to a godless place? The irony alone would keep him giggling for days. But all she did was stare. And that was cool. Cause while she tried her best to thwart him she couldn't hide her emotions very well and Doug...well he was a Spotter. He knew a thing or two about how people thought, that was his god given talent, and it was why he was so good at what he did. That's what made him money in this business – cause he knew people. He saw the anger in her eyes, that unwavering rage that hissed in her mind to lash out at him. Grab and claw through the bars at him, try to hurt him. To kill him to survive. That was only a natural reaction around here. Such was the human condition. And he looked at her, waiting, daring her to do as the voices told her to. Attack him. Make him bleed. Either way it was a reaction. He squinted at her when she didn't comply with his silent orders. But the anger was still there, something that couldn't be quelled. And in it he saw opportunity. Anger was a very high state to be in. That meant everything hit a lot harder then it did a calm person, the mind went wild and drove the body to do unpredictable things. And then she finally spoke. And Doug's mouth dropped into an over exaggerated gasp as he drew back with his hand upon his heart, as if she'd dealt him a fatal blow. “Well halleluah! Seems to me this lil kitty righ' here's got sum claws!” He crooned in the worst, most redneck, accent he could imitate badly. Insulting him was good enough of a reaction to get him excited, even if it wasn't the one that he was genuinely hoping for....but he could change that quickly. It was time to let a professional work. His hand dipped into his pocket to find the key that had been slipped to him. As a Spotter it was his job to deliver product...but sometimes he stuck around longer for quality control. This time wouldn't be no different. “You know.” Doug sighed as he shoved the key into the padlock, “I'm not a bad guy. You all are just so damn stuck up.” Of course it wasn't him. How could it be him? He was a damn charming ass devil. He played music in clubs. He was fly as fuck. Course it had to be the woman’s fault for not wanting him. Who else could it possibly be? “But I don't need your permission to have what I want.” It was a final threat as the cage door swung open and he lashed out quickly before the girl could react, fingers lacing roughly into her hair and pulling her upward to her feet. “But I’m a classy guy. I'm gonna take you out first, sound good? Good.” Like she really had a choice and without further adieu he led her down the pathway and out into the encampment. “I'ma introduce you to my bro, I'm sure he'd just die to meet you. You two got along so well before. ” The DJ whispered into her ear as he shoved her down the pathway. - God she'd hoped that he'd fall and eat the dirt. It wasn't even close to what he deserved, the coward that he was. But he had that jungle grace more then ever and like a cat he strange back to balance. But he was still humiliated – she could tell in the bullish stance that he took, defensively and the insult was obvious upon his face. Yeah that's right. That happened. She dared to and she did it. Now what? The pirates instantly scattered, further lowering her opinion of them. They were even worse then he was, when he wasn't around they were the man. But when he was here? Dicks disappeared and balls shriveled up. It provided some insight to the hierarchy here but she couldn't help but feel like it was all just for show. And she watched him dubiously in her own slightly defensive stance as he shouted at her and lunged forward. Again like an angry cat...but it almost seemed like he didn't want to hurt her – or that by some sick moral code that still clung into his shattered mind that he simply wouldn't allow himself to raise hand against her. Or maybe he really was scared of her. She liked the latter thought much more then tricking herself into having respect for him. Fuck that. He deserved nothing of the sort. But she didn't move, his aggression had only earned him a nasty, angry glare from the redhead – ever as brave and temperamental as her father had been. Vaas clearly did not like that. The gun howled again and she did finally flinch as the second hostage flew backwards and her stare broke from him to catch the woman as her corpse fell off of the stage. Another one dead. He was trying to make a point, that at any one moment that next bullet could be for her, that despite everything she might have thought she really was nothing here – and it was only by his good graces that she shared his air. He seemed to calm by breaking her gaze on him and as she looked back he had come a lot closer then she'd expected and the barrel of his gun touched against her shoulder. She blinked only twice, staring past the black pistol and back at those hazel eyes of his. You are nothing She had heard that before, more than once. Spoken by the very one person that was supposed to love her but couldn't. Because drugs and men were more important. Because she just wasn't good enough. Cause she wasn't worth the thought until something went wrong. The sneer didn't return again, but the unpleasant memory that he had stirred was clear in her eyes. Shoot me. Her lips mouthed without a sound. If he wanted to play Russian Roulette with their lives then by all means she would play. If only to prove a point. She wasn't afraid of him. But he didn't. Instead she found herself turned around, trapped in his arms as his chin back to rest against the crook of her shoulder. His hands forced her's upon the hilt of the glock and she muffled a noise that that sounded similar to a 'no' that had trailed off halfway through and her target was set before her. The old man in the nice suit was staring sidelong at her without one single damn shred of emotion on his face. I know you can do it. The foreign tone whispered into her ear, clicking instantly into English in her mind and bringing her mind back home to her mother momentarily – who spoke the most beautiful Spanish anyone could ever have heard. But he probably didn't know or care that she could understand him. The man came back into focus from her brief memory...but he wasn't an old man anymore. He'd become the devilishly tall dark and handsome face of her Bryan. Her lips parted as the jungle almost seemed to dissolve around them and it was just her and Bryan there. But she still held the gun upon him and slowly he smiled at her, a small and gentle smile as if to forgive her for her misdeed. And then a finger pressed against hers and the gun howled once more. Blood reddened his face and over he slumped with grace upon the stage. Reality returned and the old man lied there, still smiling, so content in his own brutal death. She drew shuddered in the pirates grasp, breathing sharp through her mouth as she stared wide eyed at her kill. Her mind was a blank and her body shook...but whether it was truly fear or excitement she couldn't tell. Her eyes moved from the old man's body then to look out over the standing pirates. They all looked at her the same way...slightly amazed – but why? Vaas was the one that had pulled the trigger....right? “Vaas!” Doug yelled as he came into view as her arms fell lax in his grip and she meet Ash's gaze as Doug pushed her towards them, "The nun wants to join the heretic party over here!" No. Hell no. She spun around in his arms, releasing the gun and staring upwards at him, “Whatever you're going to do...leave her out of it. You're gonna hurt someone you hurt me.” It was funny really, almost like what had just happened hadn't really. - Finally Ash's expression changed to one of fury at Doug's impression of a Southern accent, though it seemed it was too little too late. Her plan of fighting him head on was thrown out the window the moment it entered her head- he was a lot stronger than she'd expected, able to pull her along like she was nothing. The grip on her hair added to her unwillingness to fight, as she honestly worried if he pulled much harder he'd wind up scalping her. This was definitely not going how she wanted to. All things considered she'd rather still be stuck in the cage than heading to whatever had an entire camp of pirates so excited. At the sound of his name, Vaas turned to narrow his eyes at the DJ. He'd been about to tell him that he didn't have his goddamn camera until he realized he was towing Ash along, making him grin. "You made it! I'll be right with you, ok?" His smile now went to a mocking pout complete with a slightly extended lower lip as he turned back to Scorcha. "Hurt someone?" He repeated, placing a hand over his heart. "I would never, nena. That cuts me deep. Doug might. Doug's an asshole." Assurances given, he beckoned for Ash to join the two before the hostages. Any other time Ash would have simply refused, maybe even backed away. With Doug still keeping a grip on her, though, she just wanted away from him more than anything. She slapped his hands away from her and reeled back, only to find a different hand on her shoulder now that pulled her under Vaas' free arm. "Glad you joined us. We've been having fun. You know your friend here, she's a good shot. I taught her everything I know." He ruffled Scorcha's hair and tucked her beneath the opposite arm, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. "Since you got bored with Doug, you can stay here. Which one do you pick for her, hm?" This he directed at Scorcha, nodding toward the lineup. "Since she's your friend, I'll let you decide. If it was me, I'd just..." He raised the gun up to one of the hostages' heads, making a 'pow' noise under his breath and repeating the action all the way down the line. "But we're taking baby steps. Pick a really good one for her and I'll let you have another, ok? All you." - Doug was a nice guy. He really was. He offered friendship and a good time to everybody he came across. He was fun loving, chill as fuck. He didn't care about much in the world. But he did require some sort of respect to be paid. But there were some things that you just didn't do with Doug, insulting his manliness was one of those things. See he played it off with an irritating amount of grace but deep down inside, his hackles were raised and he was foaming at the mouth. Doug had spent his life being insulted, made to feel lesser, and weak. He didn't stand for it back then against his old man and sure as hell he wouldn't take it from some little stuck up bitch. He could have had any of the three of them...or all three of them at once had he really been trying. But no one had time for all that shit anymore, not in this line of work. Here there were no laws, and only three rules. Protect the product. Kill all natives on sight. And all profits went to the boss. That was the creed of the island and so long as you followed that creed...you wouldn't burn in the furnace. Hoyt always reminded them that yes, they could fuck his product. For some of them that was part of their job. They just had to be gentle enough not to leave them dead at the end of it. See...Ashley really just didn't realize just how bad of a situation she had walked into. Not a single one of those three whores did. But it was cool. Cause Doug was a teacher, and he was about to teach this little nun a lesson. The weak were food for the strong. Here she wasn't anything but a sack of meat for their use. Lesson number one: remember your place. He saw the look Vaas shot him, like he'd accused him of something that he did actually do but didn't want to admit that he did. Vaas did that a lot, Doug was sure that he had voices rattling off in his head all the time – which was why the man never sat still for too long...or slept for that matter. Which overall just made him all the worse. But all was forgiven when he noticed he'd brought him another toy and the pirate grinned. See, Doug got you. He knew how to liven up a party, he was Doug after all. He saw him holding onto Sorcha briefly too, realizing that she was still alive. But she might not have been Sorcha anymore judging by the look on her face. “Nothing like target practice with the boss.” Doug mused, admiring the already three dead bodies and he shuffled up onto the stage with Ash. Her brows knit in confusion. I would never.... Then what did he call this? All these people he would kill, the ones he'd....and she...had killed already? Was this just a fun little game or him? Or was it his sick version of mercy? Maybe that was it. Maybe he thought he was saving these people from a worse fate by killing them quick. At least...he killed them quick. But maybe they were just toys to him. It made her sick and then he fired blame at Doug. He really didn't like Doug did he? She could agree with that opinion...she didn't like Doug either and slowly her head turned to find the skeeze where he stood. She almost wished she still had the gun and she could tell that he could tell exactly what she was thinking that very second. And he smiled in response, daring her. Attack him, like she'd attacked the pirates. Show off that wild side of her's, but Vaas pulled her back to him – where he was pleased before to have one pretty bitch now he was really pleased to have himself two. Greedy asshole. Doug thought. But it was all cool nonetheless, Vaas was like the special guest here to teach the kids things. “Fuck you.” Sorcha growled hands pushing against the side of his chest in attempted to distance herself from his sweaty frame. Doug could see just how uncomfortable it was for her to be so close to a man before...but now that one was touching her it made him wonder just where all that hatred was coming from and he moistened his lips as he looked upon the three corpses, two men and one woman, shuffling forward. “Did you really pop someone cockhater? Like...willingly?” Doug asked curiously. “Fuck you too” Amber eyes shot over to him. “Ooh woman damn!” Doug recoiled dramatically as if he'd been shot in the chest, “So vicious.” The DJ laughed, “Ash. Don't be like her ok? You'll live longer.” That was it. “I'll show you vicious!” Sorcha snapped, “C'mere and I'll show ya cocklicking, capron!” She taunted, with that Southern burn, pushing against Vaas' arm that was practically around her neck, but it was like pushing against a jagged rock. “Hey,” Doug whispered, bending forward and tilting his head at her, “You need to relax girl. Remember what happens when you don't relax? Why you so angry all the time eh?” “Douglas. Shut up.” South African cut the air like a heated knife and it almost seemed as Hoyt's lanky frame slithered up the stairs with a pirate behind him ushering along their lost third party member – who's hands had been bound and who now stared blankly at the ground. Ember's fired from his cigar as he looked over the three corpses almost in disappointed complete to the rest of breathing bodies. “Scha'tzi...” Sorcha whispered but the girl wouldn't look up at her and Hoyt turned, guiding her forward to stand at his side and he locked eyes with Vaas from where he stood. “As much as I do enjoy your theatrics Vaas...” He grumbled, “Hurry the fuck up.” - Damn that man. Vaas really thought he'd been about to have a breakthrough with his redhead until Hoyt had shown up with the third girl. Now all that hard work was for nothing as Scorcha's attention was no longer on him, but on Scha'tzi. In a perfect world he'd have had all three to hang off of while he offed the rest of the hostages, but the impatience in Hoyt's tone was enough to make Vaas decide it just wasn't worth it. "Alright," He sighed, holding his hands up as if to say 'what can you do?'. "It's ok. You still get your one," He assured Ash, who tensed at the words. That was definitely not what she'd wanted to hear. With Hoyt's insistence that Vaas get one with it, she'd assumed he'd just get it over with. Of course not, why would anything halfway decent happen here? And Scha'tzi, that just hit her so much harder than she'd expected. The girl looked like the walking dead, not looking at or reacting to anything, even Scorcha when she'd called her name. Of course HE'D have to bring her along, she thought bitterly at the sight of Hoyt watching over the entire thing. Though, it wasn't as if she was a stranger to guns. Before she'd ever learned how to ride a bike, she'd been taught how to shoot and keep her father's gun collection in pristine condition. As the eldest of her siblings it fell to Ash more often than not to watch over their animals. Included in that job description was taking care of the coyotes and foxes that came for easy meals, a job that after a while she hadn't minded. They were nasty little things anyways, full of diseases and quick to leave chicken coops in ruins if she wasn't careful. Fact was, though, the very biggest thing she'd ever shot in her life was a deer on her first hunting trip with her father. Which had ended in tears when a much younger Ash realized exactly what she'd done to the buck after she'd pulled the trigger. Even after that she'd always felt badly about taking the life of a creature as pretty as that. The thought of shooting one of these people made her honestly feel ill, not that Vaas either noticed or cared. He was too busy looking over the line, finally deciding on an older woman. Upon feeling eyes on her she dared to glance up, only to dissolve into tears when she saw Vaas looking back at her. "Her. Make it quick, ok?" With an almost reluctance he withdrew hi arm from Scorcha to take the same stance with Ash, making a 'whoosh' sound effect as he raised the gun in their hands. By now the blonde was shaking, wanting more than anything to at least not meet the woman's eyes but unable to look away. Maybe if she thought hard enough she could convey to her how sorry she was, how badly she didn't want to be a part of this- before she even realized what was happening the crack of the gun sounded. A second later the woman pitched forward, the life gone from her teary eyes long before she ever hit the ground. It was impossible to keep the tears rising to her own eyes now- she didn't even care when Vaas released her to make quick work of the rest of his line. With one hand raised to chew at her thumbnail- an awful nervous habit, she knew, but it didn't seem like it really even mattered anymore- she backed up until her arm was pressed against Scorcha's. Despite being a bit older than her, she'd always been a good source of comfort with just her presence. There wasn't much to be had in this place, in this situation, but she'd take what she could get. - There was no time to think, and all the time in the world to act. Yet her feet felt like lead weights when the pirate left her. She stood there petrified to the wood beneath her feet, staring downward at the face of the old man down there. Why did they all just sit there like that, sit and wait to die? They all could have run...they could have tried. Their feet weren't bound. This camp was open, she could see the jungle outside the rusting metal shrapnel and concrete barriers. Freedom was right there, why didn't they run for it? They might have been older but they had everything to go back too, friends, jobs, families. Why...did they sit there. Why didn't they fight? The question kept repeating itself as she stood in a bewilderment, unable to find the answers to the nature of the hostages. How was it possible that all of them could just sit there and watch as each one of them was picked off slowly, how could they all just sit there staring at the ground while each shot rang out. How could it be that not one single person amongst them had the courage to get up and fight? She didn't understand. Wasn't it human instinct to survive the strongest motivator of them all? Yet they all behaved like farm animals at slaughter. Just existing in their pens and chewing on their lips while their kin died around them, not even effected by their screams nor the sight of blood. Was this really what civilized people had diminished themselves down too? And what was worse was that she wasn't part of their flock. She was a completely different animal, pacing around the cage. She wanted to follow the pirate as he took a hold of Ash and while he was distracted use the roped around her wrists to her own advantage. How she wanted to choke the life from him...even if just for a minute. She wanted to feel like she had taken some ounce of control back...even if she wouldn't have been able to keep it. But no. She stood there, staring at the dead. Feeling for all the world like she was one of them, a cold husk that forgot to actually die. Then the warmth of an arm pressed against her own as each crack of the gun and thud of a body seemed to grow further and further away. Some hero she was. And yet...an angel had gravitated to her. The poor girl she'd called her friend, the girl whom she felt was a second sister. Her little Ashley. She bit down upon her lower lip as her brows knit again and Doug smirked from the sidelines. Tears. That's right. Tears. She saw them in those green eyes when she looked side long at them. They weren't so bright and full of life anymore. But they were there. She was still there. “I'm sorry.” Sorcha whispered as she nuzzled Ash's hair with her cheek as she turned to her and took her hands in her own, “I'm so sorry Ash.” Another body had found her, her Scha'tzi – having shuffled forward to bury her head into Sorcha's back. The both of them clinging to her, for protection. And she would have to protect them. Because no one else could. Bryan was dead. And these men? They were the wolves. The girls were her flock, her family, and they wanted to eat them alive. “Took you long enough.” Hoyt cursed from the end of the platform, “Alright boys!” He announced, his lanky frame stepping up onto the stage to address his my, by proxy really, as they were actually Vaas' men and it was through Vaas' that there was an unsteady alliance with Hoyt and his Privateers. “It's been a very long day.” He announced, passing by the huddled women, “But I want to thank all of your for your exceptional work.” A grin slithered upon his face, “We have quite the selection of slaves this night. I hope you've all saved your energy.” He spoke like a businessman but he was clearly insinuating something else. A chuckle had erupted from the pirates and spread outward and Hoyt replied with his own. “Time to celebrate don't you think?” The crowd howled, “Well then get on with it! But be gentle! For every bruise you put on my slaves means less profit for me.” The man slapped his hands and rubbed them together, cackling. “As always, Doug and Vaas get their choosing – the rest of you take what you can find!” Sorcha blinked, looking up from Ash as the pirates shuffled, waiting ever more patiently for the two men to take which ever woman was going to be theirs for the night before they would let loose on the lot that was left. Doug had sauntered forward at some point and in the blink of an eye he was in front of the three women, smirking stupidly at them. “Guess who I pick?” He asked, and Sorcha lunged forward with a growl, causing the DJ to hiss in shock and stumbled backwards, falling right upon the dead old man with a loud curse. “Ooh nice choice Doug.” Sorcha replied coldly, glaring him down while she stood in front of her two girls, “But you better hurry up. He's getting cold.” “Bitch...” Doug replied venomously as he drew up to his feet again, and Hoyt chuckled, “Don't make me fetch my knife on you again malaya.” The Kingpin threatened, causing the redhead to withdraw back amongst Scha'tzi and Ash. - "Sorry for what?" Ash asked quietly with a shake of her head, finally looking up from the ground to fix Scorcha with a confused stare. "You didn't cause any of this. You don't have to apologize." Trying to shut out the growing volume of shouting pirates she closed her eyes and leaned her head against Scorcha's shoulder, even if only for a moment. Whether the girl believed her or not was up in the air- she was a self-proclaimed protector and was almost proud of the fact. She looked out for her friends' well-being better than most of their families did. It had to be driving her up the wall to be stuck at anyone's mercy. Without looking up Ash knew Hoyt had passed them by from the smell of the cigar smoke that clung to the man permanently it seemed. It was a far cry better than stench the rest of his men gave off, but it didn't make him any better than they in her opinion. Rather, he was the one now riling them all up again. Slaves. Well, then it was official. All the talk of ransom had been utter bullshit, probably to get them to comply in hopes of going home. Even worse was he was essentially giving the savages in his employ free run with whoever they wanted. As if knowing better than to hope for ones higher-ups had taken a sort of interest in, many had already taken there leave to force their company on some poor soul. The thought made Ash feel sick all over again. And there was Doug again, awful as ever. Without her even noticing he'd made his way to stand before their group, where Ash fixed him with a cold glare. I hope you're happy. All at once Scorcha had moved, sending the DJ crashing atop on of one of the dead men. Served him right. Her amusement was short-lived, however, as Hoyt made his displeasure obvious. To make things worse, Vaas had quietly made his way past the fallen man to look Scorcha over with a contemplative look. No. Oh GOD no. "I guess if Doug already picked..." The pirate shrugged, not even bothering to hide his grin as he glanced back at Doug. "I don't judge. To each their own and all that shit." He inclined his head in Scorcha's direction, meaning to come forward with him. Ash's hands had clenched around the fabric of the girl's shirt without her realizing, as though it would keep her from going anywhere. At this point she was wishing more than anything this would turn out to be some awful nightmare she could wake up from, and forget what she'd woken up so afraid of in the first place. Wishful thinking that didn't help at all, just made the apprehension worse. - But she did cause this. She had known better but she ignored that gut feeling. On the ship she had felt that something was wrong but she said nothing. She knew that coming out here wasn't the brightest of ideas, but again her silence was her ultimate mistake. Had she been more forthcoming, had she actually spoken up – they wouldn't even be here right now. No she'd been too wrapped up in her own drama to care about what was going on around them. Who was watching them and how close they were getting. Bryan was dead because she hadn't been able to shut him up. They all stood here right now because she had done nothing, a gun had been forced into Ash's hands and the trigger pulled on a woman she didn't even know because she did nothing. She could have stopped him. She could have shoved him again and given him something to think about. She could have fought that cat down until he beat her to unconsciousness and she should have...if it would have spared Ash any blood on her hands. But no she was to much a coward. She couldn't even protect her own woman who couldn't even utter a word anymore...she wouldn't even look at her. Sorcha knew she blamed her but she didn't want to admit it yet. Not until she wasn't expecting the blow. Ultimately she blamed herself in the end. And she had to fix this...somehow. She'd managed to find her way out of the cage. Maybe she could find her way out the ropes next. Babysteps. As Vaas called them. Babysteps. Sorcha reminded herself. And patience. She had to gather control, even if it was just over herself for now. Anything brash would get them all killed....she had to be careful from now on. God she only hoped that they would forgive her for anything that might happen between now and then. Cigarettes. That's what she smelt and her eyes found the red tank top again, mister self proclaimed pirate king lurking close to her again...looking at her. She didn't like that look at all. And slowly Doug shuffled back into focus, a devious glitter in his eyes. He would have just loved to have had Sorcha... but it was obvious she was Vaas' toy now. And nobody touched Vaas' things. But that didn't mean that he couldn't hurt her in another way. “Ah you can have her my man.” Doug replied as he clapped Vaas' glistening shoulder, recoiling his hand ever so slightly against the unexpected hardness of it. Jesus...what did that guy eat to get so big? “Got my bitch right here.” The Dj announced as he snaked his arm around Scha'tzi who whimpered and tried to cling to Sorcha again but was easily pulled away. “C'mon now baby, you and I gonna play.” His tone was sickeningly soothing as Sorcha huffed and took a step towards them, Doug's grin only widened as he pulled the blonde away from her friends. “Hey!” Sorcha snapped, “I will fucking kill you! Ya hear!?” “Yeah? I'd like to see you try after the boss is finished with you. You won't be walking for weeks!” The Dj cackled and Sorcha clamped her teeth down upon her lower lip. Watching helplessly as her woman was taken away from her again. You little weakling. You disgust me a voice mocked her inside her head and her head swam as she brought her hands up to cover her face, sighing angrily into her palms, reminding herself to remain calm, before looking up over them to find the pirate again. For a long moment she only stared at him as her hands slid down her face before they dropped downward to thoroughly examine him in all his glory as he stood there, sizing him up. Maybe he was the way out of this place after all. If she could just get him distracted. - "Scha'tzi-" Ash started, but the rest of the words died in her throat. What the hell did she even say to her? It wasn't going to be okay. That much had been made crystal clear by every person in this godforsaken place, and it would be no different for Scha'tzi no matter how badly she wanted it to be. God help that man if she saw him again after this, she really would attack Doug next time. This she gave her word to herself on, watching Doug saunter off with her broken friend. There really was nothing she could say to Scorcha, and could only twist her hands tighter into the army green shirt she wore in apprehension. You won't be walking for weeks when he's done with you. Eventually Vaas would tire of standing there looking his prize over, she knew, and eventually she'd be forced to let go of Scorcha so they could go to God knows where. After that... A wave of nausea so strong it nearly made her dizzy washed over her then. She honestly didn't know what then. It wouldn't be good. For either girl, if she didn't actively try to not think about that. Scorcha hadn't even been discreet as she'd looked him over, Vaas noted with no shortage of purely male pride. Granted, he knew what it looked like to size someone up to debate whether they could take them- but still. That was different from the norm by a long shot and all things considered, it wasn't like he minded. "Like something you see?" He grinned, making a point to be as obvious as possible when he returned the favor to look Scorcha over curiously. He definitely didn't mind the view, going so far as to give a short nod of approval. Now more than ever Vaas was sure if Doug had gotten this one alone, he'd have been knocked on his ass and Scorcha would have been gone before anyone even knew. He could tell she was just aching to lash out at the first person to get near her- hell, she'd already taken a shot at Hoyt himself. No, better him than Doug by far. With a smirk he offered his arm to Scorcha like something out of a bad romance movie before noticing Ash still clung to her. "No. No no no." The words came out in a choked whisper as Vaas advanced, glancing down from her grip on Scorcha to her face. "Shh, it's ok. It's ok," He repeated, untangling the blonde's hands from Scorcha despite her protests. "I'd take two if I could, but..." He gave a one-shouldered shrug and a glance over his shoulder in Hoyt's direction. "You know how it is with bosses, huh? Never let you have any fun. It's bullshit, I know," He added in a whisper of his own and a shake of his head. Like it was perfectly natural he slung his arm back over Scorcha's shoulders, and just like that Ash was more alone than she'd ever been. If she'd had any remnant of faith left in her before, it was gone with Scha'tzi and Scorcha along with her heart it seemed. There was a powerful ache in her chest as she watched Vaas stride off with the girl under his arm, laughing and joking like it was an everyday normal thing. It probably is. That left her and Hoyt standing on the platform still, she realized with a sharp pang of anxiousness. Which, near as Ash could tell, left her with one of two things happening. One, he'd toss her to the wolves and she'd be stuck with one of the men still watching. Or two, she'd go off with him, which was nothing short of terrifying. Ash hated both options with every cell in her. Given her way she'd go back to that tiny cage freely and gladly by this point, wouldn't even need someone to force her there. It kept them away from her, if nothing else. Even that was likely hoping for too much. She was almost resigned to her fate now, deciding that if nothing else she'd keep her dignity, wouldn't just duck her head and cower before them like those hostages had. And for goddamn sure wouldn't let herself cry again like she had just now. With that in mind Ash raised her gaze to meet the eyes of the 'big boss' as Doug had called him, steeling herself for whatever was to come. - She tried to ignore him. But it was hard. This man was just so...there and in her face. It was like he didn't get enough attention as a child so he sought it out in erratic ways from others. Already she felt like he demanded her's more then others – sure his attention shifted ...but she noticed how he constantly looked at her. Looking for her reactions to the things that he did. It was child like almost. Sorcha didn't pretend to understand it, there wasn't really. Not with a man like he was, the raving lunatic. Who knew what he was thinking at any given second. He was unpredictable, you never knew if he was going to have a bitch or toss someone and it seemed like the actions were like a roll of the dice that just kept rolling. Even when he decided to do one thing that was always subject to change. Always. And when he asked if she liked what she saw? It was like Russian Roulette all over again, and her response would dictate his reaction. She saw him yes. Standing there in all his fucking pride, probably feeling pretty swell right about now. The socio not only had gotten to kill a pack of innocent, defenseless people, now he got permission to 'harass the bitches' as Hoyt lovingly had put it. But there was only two of them left, and between she and Ash? Sorcha wanted to be the one that he choose, but on the downside that meant leaving her alone...with him. Amber eyes had found Hoyt again who stood there, watching her like a vulture over there, just seething with suspicion in his very skin. “No.” Sorcha replied bitterly, feeling Ash's hands in her shirt. She felt the girl trembling and she closed her eyes, a wash of guilt overtaking her. She was going to leave Ash here with another psychopath no matter what happened. Either way there was go other option and it killed her to have to make that kind of decision. Ash didn't deserve any more torment, she'd been through enough. But there was no end in sight to it yet. And Scha'tzi...she didn't even want to think about what was happening to her right now. But she couldn't help that...not that she didn't want to. She just couldn't. All she could do was hope for forgiveness when this was over...when she made it safe for the both of them. But until then they had to hold out. Slowly she turned, sighing and shaking her head the the blonde as she helped the pirate unravel herself from the girl and as his arm slung over her shoulder her hand grazed across Ash's tear stained cheek, “It's ok. I'll see you later kiddo....” She whispered, appearing to have accepted her fate, “Promise me you'll be strong.” She was pulled away from her friend and her eyes cast down onto the ground as she walked beside the pirate, hands twisting against the ropes still around her wrists in discomfort. Quietly she looked sideways at him with a frown, this was going to hurt. A lot. And just the thought of it made her shudder as she looked back down to the ground, the anxiety visible upon her face as a rush of sickness began to overtake her.

#far cry 3 #farcry #fanfic #lions and lambs #OC #vaas montenegro #douglas stephenson #hoyt volker #citra talugmai #dennis rogers #rp

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maleficfiction · 10 years

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Lions And Lambs Chapter 1 : Down The Rabbit Hole

Life was a blur. A haze of bright club lights and white sandy beaches filled with music that left her ears ringing and her head pounding by the end of the day. This was the life that not everybody got to experience, and not many enjoyed. All the bikini's and the margarita's and the bad selfies and dropping phones into the tide pools. Each and every moment recorded on the web and liked by friends and family. We were all just kids here in the end. Kids trying to have a good time, trying to relax, trying to enjoy life. We were all just finishing college and this little adventure across the world was in celebration of our hard work. With the last of our allowances and grants left at the end of the semester we all decided to take one last trip together for old times sake before we all began our new lives in the careers of our dreams, moved away, started families. In a way we were all saying goodbye to each other, knowing we would never see one another again, we would never drink together, never study together, never play another dorm room prank. Yet in a way...in the midst of all the dazzling lights and music and laughter...we were saying goodbye to ourselves. The Philippines would be the last moment in our lives where we were free and wild, living in the moment without a single care about the future or the past. And when we all boarded that plane home...we all knew we would be returning as different people – educated people, refined people, off to make our way in the world and carve out our lives. This was where the party ended for us all. And where ultimately our journey into the prison of productive citizen's we would walk. Never again to dream of flying without wings. Never again to truly be free. But not all of us were able to enjoy this outing, cause sometimes...wounds cut far too deep for a few maitai's and ocean waves to nurture. And sometimes those wounds hurt so badly that you end up doing things you later regret. Sometimes those wounds killed.

All things considered, the Phillipines trip was probably one of the greatest things Ash had been lucky enough to be on in her life. Having grown up in a fairly isolated farm next to a tiny Texan town, not even in her wildest dreams could she have come up with anything like this vacation. That was keeping in mind she frequented her time with Scorcha and Scha'tzi, both of whom rarely allowed a dull moment in their lives one way or another. The only downside to the whole thing was realizing just how much of a problem one of her friends might have and therefore set her older sister instincts into overdrive worrying about Scha'tzi "Hey-" The words caught in Ash's mouth as the blonde herself stormed past her without so much as a glance, though the quick look she'd gotten at her dilated eyes and scowl told her everything she needed to know. "Right." She cast a glance at the already empty hall behind her before stepping out onto the deck herself, needing only a moment to wonder where Sorcha might have gone off to if Scha'tzi was in a fury like she was. Bar, she answered herself mentally and dodged several fellow partiers in search of a bar where a likely irritated brunette would be sitting. As there were very few women who looked like Scorcha, locating her was easier than to be expected. Through a large group of giggling older women she spotted the girl flanked by Doug at the bar and ducked under a passing waiter's tray to hop up into the seat on the other side of her friend. "You keep carrying that camera around and it's gonna fuse to your hand, mark my words," She addressed Doug with a grin and a friendly wave to said camera "You know what I think you need?" She gently nudged Scorcha's shoulder with her own, flagging down the bartender for her own shot. "I think you need to come with me to the club upstairs. The music is better. I'd be about as upset as you look if I'd been listening to this shit as long as you have. How long HAVE you been here, anyway?" Ash paused with her shot glass halfway to her lips, her expression kept neutral but her eyes speaking volumes of concern. "I don't like seeing you upset. We're on this amazing vacation, and I think we should make the very best of our last day. Like... Like we should do something wild. You, me, and Scha'tzi. I mean I know you guys are... Having a rocky point. But maybe we just need one last hurrah before we start acting like grownups. Huh?" She gently nudged the girl next to her again, leaning down enough to properly see Scorcha's face with an excited look to her now. "It doesn't have to be anything wild like skydiving, but something to remember and look back and smile on. Yeah?"

The glass had been pushed into her hands and the wandering DJ was looking at her expectantly. He wanted this one as relax as possible when the party began. So she could get along with everyone when they showed up. See Doug had friends coming to play with them, and these fucks didn't know it yet, but they soon would. See, these people? They were his flock right now, his unsuspecting flock, and he was their Shepard �� leading them all to their cages. But this little lamb wasn't cooperating very well at all, shame really, considering she was quite the slice – which was the only reason he was going through so much trouble. He didn't want his little cherry pie to be ruined. The camera focus closely on her, just as closely as he was as Sorcha stared down at the tiny glass in between her digits. She's forgotten why she was here again and what the point of all of this was supposed to be. Why did she drink this shit anyway? It didn't make her feel any better did it? No it just made things blurry and her mouth loose. It made her numb and stupid...but it didn't do anything for the mood. She drank it because everyone else did, because that was the normal person. But she wasn't one of those was she? Somewhere in her head she felt like she was crazy, like she didn't belong here, like she didn't belong with Scha'tzi or back in New Orleans. She felt like she was adrift in an endless void of passing bodies and fake apologies and black lies. Sorcha was an orphan in her own body, walking and talking like everyone else, mimicking everyone else – just so they didn't look at her sideways...but it wasn't what she wanted in the end. What she wanted in the end was just to sleep. Sleep and never wake up again. It's not like she would be missed anyway right? Or was she wrong about that? “Driiiiink~” Doug chimed and her eyes flicked upwards towards him, a cold and callous leer as she put the shot back down upon the bar in defeat. It was one of those moments, one of those “too depressed to drink” kind of moments. The kind of moment where someone could very well get hurt. “C'mon...don't be a lightweight.” Doug taunted, a hint of aggression in his voice, her eyes meanwhile had found Scha'tzi as the girl laughed with another gentleman, an older man. Sorcha wasn't a jealous type...but she didn't trust that girl to behave herself anymore. Cause she knew she wouldn't. “Bon rien...” Sorcha mumbled, eliciting a giggle from Doug as he shot the camera forward, “What the fuck was that? You speaky French to moi?” He asked, with a horridly inaccurate attempt at a French accent. And just in the nick of time to save Doug from the four day limp that was coming to him, another blonde appeared before his camera and smoothly he moved back to catch her into the frame, a sly smirk crossing his face. “Hey don't hate baby. We're making memories right here.” Doug wasn't even pretending to be civil anymore, they were far gone from civilization now, and far to close to the end, and he was far to excited for the party to chill out now. He could almost taste the tears on his tongue already. The redhead turned on her seat to face to bartender, noticing he was also wearing a red wifebeater top....and so had been the waiter that had just happened by. Strange fashion statement...all things considered and when she was nudged she growled in disapproval. Ash was the one person she trusted above everyone else. They hadn't know each other for very long but she had always been there to pull her up for air when she needed that helping hand the most, even if she didn't want it most of the time. And she looked over at the green eyed blonde and just one look at that beaming face was enough to lessen the stress on her own face, but not enough to bring out a smile. No one could make Sorcha smile, not even Sorcha. Then she'd opened her mouth to speak...or protest something when it hit her that she really had no idea how long she'd been sitting here. Far too long probably. And that somehow lead her to another thought...about where their fourth wheel was hiding out at. Ash looked like she'd been waiting for an answer before she drank but Sorcha only closed her lips as Doug moistened his own and snuck a pan down the blonde's shirt by pretending to lift the camera upward to look at the bottom of it. It was enough of a sign for her that she really needed to get out of this place. If she couldn't even answer such a simple question. And just like that Ash knew that her friend wasn't well in that very moment, and all it took was mere silence to know. That was why she loved her. Sorcha needed to be pulled up for air again...yet this time it wasn't the same. And past her shoulder she was watching her significant other, the very idea of pretending to enjoy herself was painful. There wasn't any fixing them...Sorcha knew that. And slowly she looked downward, “I don't think I have the energy, cher.” Sorcha replied quietly as she fondled her warming shot glass still full to the brim with liquid courage, “I feel old...” She added and instantly Doug crashed down into the seat at her opposite side, his chin landing upon her shoulder. “Hey don't be such a downer, once we get to the island you'll change your mind. Trust me.” The Dj chimed, “I got the party of the century planned when we get there.” Slowly Sorcha leaning away and turned her head to look at the scruffy faced man, in a bewilderment. “I have a right mind to toss you in the ocean right now.” She threatened, though her tone was deceptively playful.

As the pounding headache of a hangover finally started to subside, Bryan finally opened his eyes in the dim light of the cabin. Oddly enough, he found his vision obscured by bright pink and it took him longer than he'd care to admit to realize it was because a sticky note had been attached to his forehead. Upon inspecting the note after he'd peeled it from his skin he gave a huff of irritation. We went to go have some fun and not get blackout drunk. When If you wake up then we'll probably be out on deck. - Ash :) As he rolled out of bed he crumpled the note in his hand and tossed it carelessly to the side. His original plan of tagging along in hopes of eventually finding his way into one of his three companions' beds had failed miserably. That much had been clear the second day into this trip. His problem was by no means that he was unattractive- he could easily be described as tall, dark and handsome. The problem, Bryan reasoned, was that he'd opted to go for a business major, an art history major, and whatever Scha'tzi was. It didn't matter really, Sorcha stood firmly in his way of that particular conquest. All three of them knew better than to get involved romantically with a man like Bryan, and therein lay the issue. And then there was Doug. The moment he'd shown up Bryan knew he was after something, that much was obvious. A player knew another player from a mile away, and Doug was most definitely one. The only thing was, Bryan couldn't for the life of him figure out what his game was. At first it had bothered him, the presence of potential competition, but Doug was hard to not like. For the moment Bryan shook his thoughts away and set about dressing, wisely choosing to stumble around in the dark rather than face the sunlight just yet. "It is a pretty nice day for a swim." In contemplation Ash looked out at the strikingly blue water and clear sky, then back at Doug. "If you grab his arms, I'll get his legs and we can just toss him right over that rail. I wonder if there's sharks down there..." "There are." At the sudden appearance of another person at her side Ash jumped, nearly knocking her second drink to the floor. "Jesus. Good to see you're alive. Finally," She added quietly, smiling sweetly in response to the scowl Bryan gave her. "There's really sharks?" As if she could have seen them from where she sat, Ash craned her neck to look back at the expanse of ocean as Bryan gave a nod of confirmation. "Yup. Saw a couple on my way up here. Nothing too huge, but they were just kind of chilling out near the ship. 'Sup." He gave a nod in Doug's direction as greeting, quickly finding it was best to turn away from the man with the strong light behind him.

Bryan looked over his female companions with a derisive snort, straightening up to illustrate the size difference between himself and the nearby Ash. "Doubt it." While it was true that he was a good few inches taller and far more built than the girl next to him, it still had him doubled over with a hand on the bar for support when Ash's elbow to his side caught him off-guard. "That was a lucky shot. Nope!" When she tensed again to strike, this time he lifted her bodily from her seat to place her in one further away from him but nearer to Doug. "You can stay in time out. Thanks for the free drink." With that he knocked back Ash's forgotten shot, eyes settling on the bartender for some reason. Since coming topside, Bryan had found himself tense in the presence of some of the crew. It was nothing overt in any way, but in some of the red-shirted men's eyes he caught sight of something cold and hard and cruel, especially when they met his gaze. However, Ash seemed not to notice and if Scorcha had seen anything she certainly wasn't going to confide in him. If anything was amiss to Scha'tzi Bryan definitely wouldn't know; he couldn't read the girl even when she was completely lucid. "What exactly is this party of yours like, anyway?" Ash's voice drew him back out of his thoughts, making him realize he'd been inadvertently staring back at two men across the bar who'd been eyeing the three. "You haven't said hardly two words about it this whole time but then you won't shut up about it. How do you even talk that much without saying anything?" Ash leaned around the camera to actually look at Doug's face, dead set on wheedling at least a hint out of the man. "Are there really tigers? Like... Just roaming around the island? S'pose I'll just hope you aren't trying to get us all eaten alive."

These kids were funny. A few of them more lighthearted then others. Ash was probably the cutest of the bunch, so young and oblivious to everything. Nothing could possibly be wrong in her mind, the world was balanced. The sun was shining the music playing...people laughing. It was all just a typical tropical paradise around here. Everyone hanging loose and just...enjoying nature's gifts. What could possibly be wrong around here? Well they didn't know just how wrong it could be in these parts. And Doug exchanged looks with the bartender after Bryan had stared him down for a second. He shook his head, indicating to the man to hold his shit together just a little bit longer. But it never went ignored the way Bryan looked at them all with that note of suspicion. Like he felt something was off here, Doug had seen Sorcha look the same way at one of the waiters. But he expected that much from her, she was always thinking in patterns and clues and getting these alarmingly accurate ideologies from just the smallest of shrugs or from a matchbook left lying on the bar counter. She pretended not to see everything...but she did. She always knew a lot more then she let on. That was why he kept a close eye on her. The others though? Well Scha'tzi didn't know her own head from a hole in the sand, she was too doped up to catch onto anything and Ash....well she was Ash. She was the tourist here, none the wiser to the blue ocean and white sandy beaches. It was all fun and games for her. And Bryan... he was a chill dude – but he liked to play dumb. He was a lot smarter then he came off to be initially and Doug knew his game. There was only one reason a bro spent a week following three attractive women around without bringing his buddy along with him. He was after some tail...but he wasn't man enough to take it unlike himself. Bryan thought he was in the game... but he was way off in the bleachers drooling on his own shorts just waiting for one of them to fall head first into his lap. Doug had a feeling...that he and his boss were just going to get along swimmingly. Loners always reacted swell to the alpha dog after all. Ash's pretty green eyes came out from behind the camera and Doug looked upward from the lenses to meet her gaze, grinning like a Cheshire Cat. “That's because I'm talented, Ashley.” Doug replied and he leaned in close to her, camera dropping to the floor for the first time the entire trip. “It's like a little get together of sorts, I play music for the people of the island a few times a year. They throw one hell of a party.” He explained, cupping her chin with his thumb and forefinger, “And yes there are tigers. But the one's you'll see will be in cages.” He leaned back, swiveling the camera around to spy the upcoming island as the ship slowed and prepared to dock. “You won't be eaten alive by the wildlife... though I can't say the same about the natives.” Doug glanced over at her, an ominous grin on his lips, “In a good way if you catch my drift.”

For the first time since the very beginning of this trip, Ash's smile slipped a fraction for a split second and she blinked in genuine surprise. Doug had never come across as anything but wanting to hang around and have a good time like anyone else, but just now- with his last comment, the odd physical contact and the almost predatory look he wore- Ash was almost uncomfortable. It was like he knew some big secret and could barely contain himself, only it didn't exactly seem to Ash like it was a good secret. Not to mention he'd used her full name. No one had done that since she'd left home, and up til now Doug had been fine with using her preferred nickname. For the life of her she couldn't understand what exactly was off-putting about the man she thought she'd befriended, he just... WAS. She glanced over at Bryan, who'd immersed himself in another drink before glancing up. "We there yet? Gettin' real tired of hanging around here doing nothing." He leaned off the side of the railing to observe the view, grinning upon finally seeing the island close enough for their disembarking time to be upon them. As he turned back, however, again Bryan found himself on edge. This time it was definitely not from his now nonexistent headache, or even from the bartender, who he still caught shooting him nasty looks. It was now with the way he'd seen Doug looking down at Ash. It wasn't unusual to catch the man looking at one of the three girls, but what did rub him the wrong way was the sudden lack of playfulness. All he could see on the cameraman's face was something akin to sadism. Bryan was reminded suddenly of the tigers Doug had mentioned- Doug being the tiger, Ash being some poor little deer about to be a pre-dinner plaything. He glanced over at Scorcha and Scha'tzi, honestly wondering if he shouldn't discreetly motion for the former of the two to come back over if Scorcha would just look up from whatever conversation she and her girlfriend were in. "So. You playing leader for us, party planner?" Bryan leaned forward onto the counter again, ignoring the bartender's stare for Doug. "You sound like you have a to-do list or something. Got big plans?"

“Hell yes my main main.” Doug replied as smooth as ever as he lowered his camera again, having spotted what he had been using it's zoom to look for in the first place. There was enough footage of the girls to sell to the buyers, not that they would be the only ones to view it of course. The boss liked to look the tapes over first off, so he knew what he was dealing with before he went climbing into the cages with their new stock – it told him if this batch would be dull or entertaining. The man was a mean fucker...but he was a genius. Doug was pretty sure he'd be happy with these four. Three exceptionally pretty ladies and a punching bag, what more could he want? Maybe of Bryan was lucky they'd find a buyer for him too...assuming he made it off the beach that was. Doug clapped Byran's shoulder with his hand, his perpetual grin returning, “We only got one day and there's a lot to do.” He combed his fingers through his dark hair, spying the other two at the railing. ��You all just follow me, yeah?” Follow him into hell more like it. The horn blared loudly upon the Astrid's deck, causing each body that wasn't painted in red to jolt slightly in surprise. The ships captain signaling the arrival of the great vessel as it lurched into dock. “Don't look so serious!” Doug chimed, laughing as he touched Ash's cheek after noticing her slightly horrified expression before he shuffled away towards Scha'tzi, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back against his chest. “Hey, chi chi – you wanna film for a little bit?” He asked, breathing again her blonde hair as he looked down the curve of her neck as she blinked out into the horizon in surprise. Sorcha squinted at him, but she restrained herself when Scha'tzi giggled and reached up to gingerly take the camera from his hand. She held it the wrong way of course, so she was more or less filming herself and Doug behind her who grinned into the lens. “Ok. Turn it around now and let's go explore. C'mon~” He was always gentle with her, she was just a druggie after all and she liked his Coke – so she would listen to him. He turned her around and lead her forward as the crew meandered into deck to lower down the ramp for the civilians to wander off and play on the island. Little did they know that this was the Astrid's final stop. Sorcha watched as Doug whisked away her girl, feeling her heart drop the further away she got. The girl seemed so happy in his arms...but she could barely touch her. It made her wonder if either of them really knew what they liked anymore. She sighed as she looked back out onto sea, blinking and narrowing her eyes upon a fast moving black dot in the distance as it cruised over the water as high speed. Must have been a speedboat or something. She blinked and shrugged it off as she moved to leave the rail and stopped suddenly to find one of the men standing right there...looking at her. “You got a problem, Brah?” She asked, but the man didn't answer and she moved past him as he turned to watch her go. She hurried quickly down the ramp to catch up to the others, glancing back up at all the dark skinned bodies in red that watched them like jungle cats from the railings. Something didn't seem so friendly anymore...but for all intents and purposes she ignored the feeling as Doug lead them down onto the beach and he released Scha'tzi. “Welcome to Rook Island, I'm Douglas Stephenson – your totally awesome and drop dead gorgeous DJ host.” He announced as his hand slide down his chest and he turned on his heels. “We got a lot to do my friends, where ya wanna start? You wanna swim? Rock climb? Play hide and seek in the jungle?” Sorcha was looking around, watching all the leaves sway in the breeze as she combed her hair back, smoothing it away from her face and tying it up into a ponytail.

"I definitely wanted to look around the beach first," Ash announced, having forgotten all about her earlier discomfort with Doug once she got a look at the aforementioned beach. It was easily the most spectacular thing she'd ever seen in her life, all strikingly crystal blue water and pearly white sand that her feet sunk into slightly with every step. She paused to remove her flimsy slip-on shoes and shook the sand from them before stashing them haphazardly in the tiny bookbag she insisted on carrying. Really she only used it for times like this when she wanted to be barefoot and/or not carry her own discarded clothing items, although today she'd thought to stuff a bottle of water in it as well. Not for the first time Bryan felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle, causing him to turn to meet the eyes of several of the red-shirted men staring down he and the girls. "We should probably get out of their way," He announced, nudging Ash and nodding for Scorcha to start walking as well. One look at the redhead's expression set him even more on edge now and only added to his growing, but as of yet unfounded suspicions. It was clear she'd seen something odd as well judging from her troubled look, but with Doug watching them all happily as ever, Scha'tzi focused on the camera now in her possession and Ash already headed off down the water's edge in her own little world, he wasn't quite sure how to voice his concerns. It was just insane enough that Bryan ultimately kept his mouth shut for the moment. What was he even suspicious of? If the staff gave him dirty looks, well, it wasn't as though he was the world's greatest tipper or gentleman in general. And if Scorcha hadn't said anything he didn't want to either- it wasn't like she kept quiet when something bugged her. He could very easily attest to that from personal experience. "No need to wait for us!" He called after Ash, who either didn't notice or didn't care that he was calling after her and was far too immersed in watching the tiny fish in the shallows she waded through. Ash looked up suddenly as a man's distant laugh caught her attention. It definitely had not been Bryan or Doug; rather, this sound had come from further up the beach. She straightened and squinted in the sunlight, raising an arm to shield her eyes as she searched for the source. She found her answer in the slight movement behind a rock inlet that drew her attention to a small campfire just outside the shielded area. Now immensely curious Ash turned to check on her friends' location. Only now did she realize how far ahead she'd managed to get, judging from how tiny her companions appeared. She almost started to head back their way when an indistinct voice came from the inlet again, effectively capturing her attention and holding it this time. Besides, how often had Scorcha wandered off, only to come back with something incredible and hidden she'd found? With that in mind her feet carried her onward again toward the campfire.

And just like that, Doug had lured and transported them. And he didn't need a gun to do it. That was how amazing he was, that was just how talented he was, that was the kind of skill that a Spotter needed in order to make it in this organization. That was why the boss liked him, true he was only a twenty something...but so was the boss – though he was a fair few years older then he was ...two or three he imagined. Not that he looked nearly thirty at all. Doug on the other hand, he thought he looked gorgeous, but in reality he wasn't the handsomest man in the world – Bryan was probably three times prettier then he was. But it was all cool, cause looks didn't matter when you had mad skills to rake in the change. And watching as Scha'tzi walked in front of him was probably one of the highlights of his day, even if he was way more excited for sunset, when the big boss came to have a look at his new walking talking money bags and the important people, being him, would get his pick of the three girls to break in. The Dj had to admit, as he stared intensely at the sway of Scha'tzi's hips, that it was going to be a hard decision between all three girls. Scha'tzi was just smoking, but he wanted to test his theories that Ashley was flexible and not to mention how adorable she was, but then there was the ultimate satisfaction that came from breaking a cockhater. Speaking of... Doug swiveled around, strolling backwards only to find Byran behind him mulling along like the bleacher nerd that he was. Miss Drake, however, appeared to be quite missing. “What's up with you bro? Why you look so serious back there huh?” The Spotter asked, as Scha'tzi came to stop in the sand. The gentle kiss of the ocean washed against her feet as she stepped outwards into the surf, eyes focused upon the camera lens as she spotted something within the water. This island was beautiful and peaceful, it helped her to relax as she came down from the euphoria of the drugs that Doug had given to her earlier and the trouble with Sorcha was all but forgotten, along with the fact that the girl was actually here at all. “Hey....look Bryan...Doug.” She called as she held the camera in one hand and smoothed her hair over her shoulder. “Yes dear.” Doug responded valiantly as he shuffled happily to her side, glancing upwards at the laughter that had gone unnoticed on the girl at his side. He knew that laugh anywhere and he watched as Ash continued down the beach, distracted by whatever. Doug grinned, “Hey be careful up there Ashley! Don't say do anything I wouldn't do!” Not that the girl was listening. Oh well. She would listen soon enough once she found what she was looking for up there. “Starfish!” Scha'tzi chimed, pointing into the reef at the red start lazily meandering along the tidal rocks. Her friends had wandered off quickly, all fascinated by this beautiful island paradise. Not that she wasn't. Sorcha just felt a little nauseated ...or was it claustrophobic? Either way it left her chest tight and she'd pulled away from the group to walk in the opposite direction just to have a much needed moment alone....yet she wasn't alone. She'd been eying the figures lurking up on the Astrid the entire time she'd kicked through the soft white sand and she swore that they were watching her too, like demons. She shook her head of the anxiety then as she breathed out slowly and inhaled deeply. “Count to five.” She mumbled to herself as she approached a floral paradise of the rock face that had come down in some silly archway onto the beach where vines and ferns and white flowers made it their home. She'd paused to look at them, leaning forward to smell the flower only to recoil at its putrid scent. And to think ...it was probably a perfume scent somewhere in the world too. She didn't get the appeal of all of that. Why smell like a rancid flower that smelt like ass? She pulled back and moved to walk down into the water to move around what she thought had been a solid rock cropping when the wind blew the vines inward and an even more rancid smell wafted into her face on the hot jungle air. Her nose crinkled in disgust as she watched the vines blow inward, revealing the opening between the rocks big enough to crawl through. But the smell...it smelt dead. She wondered if an animal had died nearby and she mulled back up the beach and reached out to part the vines. It was a round little grassy canyon, almost like Alice's rabbit hole in a sense, only vertical, but on the other side was just more beach. “Down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.” Sorcha recited. Alice had always been one of her favorite stories. And there was a time to think about it would make her smile, a time she'd run around in her little blue dress pretending to explore wonderland and argue with Mad Hatters and smoke hookah with Caterpillars. But then Alice grew up and she frowned through the opening at her lost childhood before her and she crouched down. Something in the distance through the vines caught her attention and she blinked, squinting at the brightly lit beach at a dark figure lying upon it as the rancid smell hit her face again in another gust of wind. What was that? An animal? They always said curiosity killed the cat. But … “Yolo...” She said neutrally as she slithered through the opening.

As she drew nearer, some insane urge nearly drove Ash to simply turn from the inlet and run as fast as her legs could carry her. She stopped in her tracks and shivered despite the blazing heat, the thought occurring to her that she stood at such an angle that the rocks obscured her from view. "Boo!" Ash gave a short scream in shock and reeled away from the rock face, nearly falling on her ass were it not for the laughing man that caught her wrist. "Oh, man, you should have seen your face." As though they were perfectly acquainted the man pulled her forward before she could even think to react, and hoisted her onto the rock he'd been stretched out on to sit next to him. "You one of Doug's friends? Good, man, I was getting tired of waiting." Still getting over the shock of being jumped out at and manhandled, Ash blinked in genuine confusion as she tried to process the incredibly odd situation. At least a dozen men milled around the inlet, all in red shirts and some with bandanas obscuring their faces. It was only now she saw each of them carried assault rifles, AK-47s seeming to be the general favorite. As for the man who currently had his arm around her, he gave the impression of being the one to call the shots. And that most definitely WAS a gun in his pocket pressing against her hip, she noted with a degree of horror. He must have caught the look on her face because he looked down to see what was bothering her and laughed. "Oh, my bad. Better?" He drew the handgun from his waistband to casually wield, grinning much like a cat with a mouse held between his paws. "I know you're not alone, though. The hell is Doug?" He craned his neck to peer over the edge of the rock wall, his grin widening upon catching sight of the man with two other tourists in tow. "Oh, good." He whistled sharply, catching the attention of five of the men immediately and gestured toward the jungle with his gun. Apparently they understood Vaas meant to circle around behind Doug and the remaining two because they set off at once, and again he relaxed on what he'd dubbed his throne for the moment. "And now we play the waiting game. I'm not gonna get them like I did you, though. You can't do the same joke in a row, you know? But I saw you all by yourself and I was like, I HAVE to. It's too perfect! Didn't your mama ever tell you not to go off alone? There's bad people out there, nena. Someone might snatch you up." To enunciate his words he tightened his hold on the girl's shoulders, making her flinch. "It's a good thing I'm here, huh?" "Where the hell did she go?" From where the other three still were, Bryan cupped his hands around his eyes to block the sun as he scanned for their missing blonde. "Oh my god, I bet she's gonna get herself eaten by a tiger or something. Shit, at least Scorcha can out-asshole a tiger any day. Ash?" He called out, finding that he got no response even after increasing his volume. Again that odd nagging feeling of something just being wrong came to mind, but this time he didn't brush it off.

You know how there was always that friend with a bitch about somethin? Always that friend that just couldn't get with the program, with the flow. That friend that just couldn't relax ya know? That guy that you really didn't want to invite but you did anyway? Yeah? Bryan was that guy and Doug's eyes rolled in their sockets as he listened to the guy having a bitch about something over there. Again. And without even answering his questions. How rude he was....then again Doug didn't care about how the guy felt in the first place and he didn't care if he answered him or not. “Here, give me that. You go out and catch it doll.” Doug whispered to Scha'tzi who looked back over her shoulder at him for a moment, scrutinizing his expression for something before she looked at Bryan. “Chill out Bryan jeez.” Scha'tzi stated, a hint of annoyance in her voice, she really didn't like the guy but he was Ash's friend and Ash was her friend so by proxy she had to be his friend too. But the guy always irritated her with all his tight ass remarks and grumbling to himself. Big blue eyes turned back to the surf as she slipped free of Doug's hands and stepped carefully into the tide to catch her red five legged prize sucking itself onto a rock out in the clear blue. Meanwhile Doug looked sidelong down the beach as he holstered his camera finally, allowing it to hang forgotten from his belt, as he noticed that Ashley was very much missing as well. But he knew exactly where he was and that made things all the more easier and he chuckled at Bryan's remark. “Out-asshole a tiger you said?” Doug asked, backing up back onto the sand and away from the lick of the ocean water, nodding in agreement to himself. “Yeah...she would.” He mused to himself at the idea of the girl wrestling down a tiger, “Have you seen that body of hers in low light?” The DJ asked sleazily as his hands painted the shape of an hourglass in the air, whistling. “She got some serious heat packing if you know what I'm talking about.” And for a moment....Doug frowned – realizing that Sorcha was still gone and he kind of feared for the life of any pirate who went near her after that image had been in his mind. But then he shrugged. No longer caring. He caught the sight of them in the jungle, the flicker of red in the corner of his eye as the pirates zipped through the tree's and crept down the beach like a couple of commandos. Doug reached back to cup the back of his head as he continued to back up towards the oncoming pirates. “But seriously bro. You need to chill out. Relax. Feel the groove – and don't do anything stupid.” The last remark was spoken with the sadism that had been just waiting to be unleashed as the pirates shot past him, leaving air in their wake. One of them, the bigger one, went for Bryan, charging towards him as the butt of his rifle slammed into his face. The man barely had time to react as he topped down into the sand and the pirate leapt a top of him and wrestled him down into submission. The second tore into the surf and scooped up the blue eyed blonde as she had begun to turn towards Bryan's scream and as he tore her up from the water with no effort she screamed into his hand as he drug her back onto the shore as she feebly kicked and clawed at his powerful frame to no avail. Doug grinned at the display before him, hands still on the back of his head as he spoke, “Say hello to my friends guys.” Friends indeed. Doug giggled as he turned then, motioning for the pirates to follow behind him as he strolled down the beach towards the rocky enclave. “Boooooosss!” Doug practically whined as the enclave inched closer, and he sauntered around the rigid rock to find the red wifebeater toting pirate king himself. “See I told you she was a'igh.” Doug stated, pointing towards Ash and looking back at the dragging figure of Bryan. “My main man's got her all nice and safe right here.” Doug was always a gigantic ass kisser and he moved forward, bumping his knuckles to Vaas' before he seized his camera and passed it over to him. “...you just got her?” Doug asked, looking around, and seeing no sign of the redhead, “Shiiiit.” Something didn't feel right as she crawled out of her little so called rabbit hole and she stood straight again. The beach was quiet. Even the ocean was quiet. And yet the wind howled something fierce and the sharp noise in the distant took her attention back in the direction of her friends. But she couldn't make it out, if it was a yell or a scream or laughter...if she had actually heard something or not. The smell was horrid and she covered her nose as she looked back to the distant, dark, heap left lying on the beach. Slowly she stepped forward, creeping closer and closer to the blackened object as her eyes dropped down to the sand when it's texture suddenly changed from warm and powdery to wet and rough. Red. All of it was red. She blinked as her brows knitted and her eyes cast outwards towards the sea, looking for any evidence of a Red Tide – anything that could have explained that...but the water was blue. She felt her blood running colder in her veins as she found the darkened heap again and took another four steps closer. As the object finally came into clearer focus she saw eyes and a gaping mouth and yellow crooked teeth. Arms bound to a bloody and hacked open chest while his legs....where the fuck were his legs. She gasped finally realizing that it was the body of a man....a human man and she drew back a step or two. She didn't like this wonderland anymore and her thoughts went to her friends, to Scha'tzi. They had to get out of here right now. A shadow passed over her then, casting a darkness across the beach and the blackened body. The redhead spun on her heels as the figure of a red tank top stood before her, raising the butt of his gun and lunging towards her with a grunt. Sorcha ducked as she stumbled away to the side and the pirates attack hit nothing but air. He cried out as he stumbled forward and rolled into the sand with a loud curse spoken through a thick Jamaican accent. “You stupid fucker!” Sorcha snapped as she shot forward, her bare foot striking him hard in the balls as he grunted again. “FUCK!” He yelled as he curled upon the sand, cupping himself a he rolled onto his back. Sorcha was seeing red as she stumbled back, limping against the attack as her foot throbbed beneath her weight as she was turning to run down the beach. But she'd failed to notice the other pirate that had crept out from the tree's, a slow mover, but hardly an opponent she could even think to take down without a miracle. A hefty backhand collided with her cheek and she cried out as she was sent into the sand, blood spoiling her mouth from the blow. “Haha get up idiot.” The heavily armored man said to his practically weeping partner as Sorcha scrambled up in a daze and the man seized her arms, lifted her clean off her feet and hauled her over his shoulder. His arm was like a massive limb of pure muscle that wrapped around her legs and kept her firmly planted as he moved down the beach with her with his partner waddling along behind him in agony, while glaring daggers at Sorcha, who could only lift her head back so much to glare back. But she didn't hang loosely for long and once her mind had cleared her hands slammed against the back of the bullet vest the pirate wore, not that he even felt it. “Let me go!” She yelled, kicking against the mans arm – but he barely flinched. “We got one.” She heard him speak, but unsure as to whom until she heard the beep of a radio. She propped herself up then as the two carried her out the distance to the enclave and as the man turned the corner a sharp elbow rammed into the back of his skull and instantly he released her in shock of the blow. And Sorcha fell from his shoulder, landing upon the rocks painfully as the barrel of the second's rifle slammed against the side of her head. “Do it again.” The Jaimacan taunted, practically salivating at the idea of gore. That. Was a gun. “Hey.” Doug warned, “Don't bang up my bitch.” Sorcha found him looking at her, “You son of a bitch...” She hissed. Doug only grinned at her.

- "Doug, man." Vaas laid the camera in Ash's lap to cover her ears, shaking his head at Doug as though he were a misbehaving child. "You can't swear like that at ladies. It's not right, hermano. I am sorry about him," He added, releasing Ash's ears and shrugging good-naturedly as though his apology would be plenty to make it up to the injured redhead. "He's an asshole but, I tell him to do a job and he does it so we keep him around. Wanna watch a movie with me?" Without waiting for the blonde's response he settled back to get comfortable, adjusting the camera so it was visible to both he and his captive. "That is a cute picture. You should smile like that more often," He called over to Scorcha, pausing the beginning of the footage to wave the still of all three girls laughing together. Now that the rest of her friends were brought forward, the full realization of the situation left Ash feeling cold like she'd been doused in ice water. She would have liked nothing more than to simply bolt right then and there, but Vaas' surprisingly iron grip made it clear that escaping their current perch was not an option unless he wanted her to. A tinny-sounding laugh from the camera the man held drew her thoughts back to earth and to the little screen, where Doug had brought his camera to the pool's edge to capture the three girls in their swimsuits and Bryan with his feet in the water. Amateur filmmaker, indeed. With a groan Bryan forced his eyes to open despite the pounding in his head and his vision still clearing. One minute he'd been walking on the beach, and the next- what had even happened the next minute? It had all been so fast and then there was the blow to his head, he honestly wasn't sure. One thing did stand out to him, though. Don't do anything stupid. Say hello to my friends. He pushed himself off the ground enough to sit up, slightly unfocused eyes scanning the red shirts for one in particular. He paused for a moment upon finding Doug's proclaimed 'main man' indeed in possession of Ash, who looked nothing short of terrified. So THAT was where she'd disappeared to. Locating Doug not far from the man he snarled, gathering his senses enough to cough out his thoughts. "What the FUCK... is wrong with you?" "Doug, your friend is talking to you. Answer him." Vaas gestured toward the black-haired man without looking up from the camera, but for the moment Bryan ignored him. - Everything seemed so bleak all of a sudden, colorless. As if time has suddenly stopped as a heavy hand pushed against her skull to stop her from looking at the face of the heavily armored man. She was still on the rocks and she cringed as the pain finally began to settle in. She'd landed on her back upon a jagged one and she hadn't noticed how slumped forward she really was until she tried to straighten out. Her body objected violently to the attempt and her eyes closed as she licked at the blood upon her lips, which had been split open. She was left to sit upon the hard bed of reef rocks with the rifle trained to the side of her head, the man who stood terribly lopsided obviously was taking no chances in the future with the safety of his nutsack. And how in the heavens had they managed to get into this situation? Who did they piss off up there huh? How could she have been so stupid not to notice something wasn't right? She saw her woman on the other side of the enclave, crying and whimpering as she pushed away from the sweaty pirate who made a game of trying to hug her. She couldn't even defend herself against someone like that...and she let her get there to begin with. Because she walked away and left her alone. Now she was in trouble...and this time she couldn't save her. Maybe Doug was to blame but really the fault lied in all of them. They were too trusting and a snake slithered into their garden and nipped at their feet. Doug was circumstantial...but it was all of their mistakes as to why they were here, they had no one to blame but themselves. And they didn't understand. They were scared and angry. They couldn’t think. And if they could they certainly weren't thinking rationally. Such was the human condition when faced with danger. They couldn't understand. But Sorcha did, she understood. And slowly she looked sidelong at the man with the mohawk as he commented towards her...she thought anyway and watched him sitting there with his arms around Ash. There was something sickening about him, something unsettling. And then it happened. Bryan's shout broke the savage silence between them and the twinge in the pirate king's voice was all too familiar and did not go unnoticed. It was that shut the annoying fucker up kind of tone and Sorcha turned her head to find her bloodied friend. Doug's head rolled back with his eyes as he turned on his feet to face the man. “Dude, I told you to relax. You don't listen.” Doug replied, emancipating himself from any blame as he lifted his shoulders. “Bryan.” Sorcha spoke quietly to him, making sure that the man looked at her. Really looked at her as she shook her head, “Don't.” She only hoped the man had enough sense to listen to her for once in his entire friendship with her. Screaming and yelling wasn't the appropriate course of action to take. Meeting aggression with aggression was what got people killed. He had to understand that, she needed him to understand that, or else... Click The sound of bullet cocking into the chamber of the gun froze her thoughts as she looked back at the DJ, now armed with a glock produced from who knows where. “How cute. You know man...you really should take her advice. You see...look at them.” He gestured, by waving the gun backwards towards Vaas and Ash, pointing to Scha'tzi and her furtive pirate . “They aren't hurt. Because they know how to behave themselves. The look happy don't they? ” His eyes flashed up to Sorcha, “You see her? She didn't behave now look at her. Look at yourself. You didn't behave either, look at you.” Doug sighed, knowing he wasn't getting his point across, “I'ma translate it for you; either shut the fuck up or eat a bullet, bro. The choice is yours.” - "Fuck you." "Forget it, hermano," Vaas sighed, pausing the video and laying the camera back in Ash's lap before hopping down off the rock. She should have been glad that the man had finally let go of her, but something about his face, his entire demeanor- something was different. With Doug there was nothing short of flat-out cruelty, but in Vaas? There was something that ran a lot deeper than that, a feral sort of sadism unmatched by anyone else present. Which was currently focused on the still-defiant Bryan, who stared the pirate king down with a glare. Very deliberately Vaas sauntered forward until he was in front of the angry captive, where he crouched down to be at eye level with him. "You're a big man, huh?" His tone was surprisingly soft, though the more he spoke the more harsh he got. "You think you can save the day, take you and your little friends far, far away and off into the sunset? Is that what you think?" In a flash his hand was around Bryan's throat and at some point he'd drawn his knife that he now kept pressed just under the other man's jawline, all the while his tone growing in volume. "This is my fucking island. You don't get to be shit unless I say so." For what seemed like forever to Bryan, he and Vaas glared each other down until abruptly something seemed to snap in the other man. "I don't like that look," He snarled into his face, shoving Bryan away from him as he stood. Trying not to show that he was still struggling to breathe after the bruising hold on his throat, he watched the pirate pace back and forth like a caged animal until he came to a halt before him again. As suddenly as his temper had flared it had seemed to quiet, leaving Vaas staring down at Bryan with his head tilted slightly to one side as though listening to something no one else could hear. Evidently his men already knew to make themselves scarce, as not a single one had left himself within arm's reach of Vaas even after he'd stopped yelling. "You play catch, amigo?" At first Bryan didn't realize Vaas had actually spoken- the question had been so random and so amicable it didn't even seem real, but there the man stood with an expectant look. "What?" Something in the way Vaas smiled then put him off immensely, as if he hadn't been enough beforehand. "Do you know how to play catch?" He asked again, this time speaking every word slowly like Bryan was a dim-witted child. While the American blinked dumbly at him, Vaas counted five steps forward before looking over his shoulder at him again. "It's ok; I can teach you." Too late Bryan saw what was happening, as Vaas spun suddenly with a look of concentration and his blade held in one hand poised to throw. All he'd even seen was a flash of silver before the impact, and all at once his breath came in wheezes that rapidly lost their effectiveness. In his shock he dimly registered falling back, hearing someone's scream as if it were coming from far away. Without thinking Ash scrambled down from the rocks to reach Bryan's side, horrified at the amount of blood already soaking into the ground in the short time she'd taken to get there. It wasn't as though she and death were strangers, but holding a friend's life in her hands and unable to do anything but watch it slip away despite best efforts was something else entirely. "Stop, stop," She murmured, preventing the man from trying to look around. It only made it harder to try and put pressure on the wound around the knife, even though she'd known from the start it was a lost cause. "That looks really bad." Vaas knelt down next to the panicked blond to look over his handiwork with no shortage of pride. "Here, get the sand off his face. Tell him everything's gonna be ok. Tell him it's not as bad as it looks. Come on!" He shouted, looking incredulously at Scorcha and Scha'tzi. "He NEEDS you guys! Fuck, man, do something!" "Why?" With a frown Vaas started to tell Ash exactly WHY she needed to do something, until he realized she wasn't looking at him or the dead man in her arms, but at Doug now. That was just too good to pass up. He hopped to his feet to retrieve the forgotten camera, brushing the sand off the lens as best he could before turning it on Doug. "Hermano, she asked you a question." - Doug cringed at the vicious spat that came from Bryan and he knew in a second that it was all over for him. Shame really, profits would not add up as predicted too this time it seemed like. But it was all cool, the bitches were the real prize after all. Rarely did the Pirate's keep men for anything other then cheap entertainment such as this. In a way it was all just a tactic to scare the girls, make em see who was boss, and what happens to those that fight back. So their little minds could get turning and they could start bonding with their captors, that way they were so much easier to handle later on. This was no different. And hey...it wasn't like he hadn't warned him right? Sorcha's heart was beating faster and faster as she stared across and down the rocks at her captive friend. Bryan … why did he have to be so stubborn? Didn't he realize that he was going to get himself hurt if he didn't stop? She didn't want to see him hurt...or dead as the case might have been. She wanted desperately to rise to her feet and slap him across his face, scream at him to shut up. That was what she wanted to do. She didn't want to loose a friend here, she didn't want to loose him. Any of them. She would gladly have taken his place if she could have, like she was wishing she was. With all her heart she wanted to be the one sitting there, glaring down that pirate without a single ounce of fear in her eyes. And she watched in horror as Vaas drew in closer and spoke to Bryan. But it was hardly a civil conversation. It wasn't a conversation at all. Bryan....stop please She thought over and over again as she shook in her skin from the adrenaline pouring through her veins. And then it was all over in a flash of sliver caught in the sunlight. The knife flew through the air like a bullet and sliced into him like he was made of butter and she watched with stinging eyes as her dearest friend fell backwards upon impact and Ash only seconds later had collapsed down beside him to try and stint his bleeding. Scha'tzi's screams were deafening...yet they sounded so distant and ruffled as her girl collapsed to her knee's in horror of what she had seen. Her heart ached and she wanted to go to her. But she wanted to run to Bryan most. Yet she sat petrified upon the rocks as cringed against the tightness of her chest, tears falling from closed lids as she listened to Bryan's labored, slowing breaths....until they stopped completely. She sobbed silently, hot tears falling into her knees as she bowed her head, unwilling to move, unable to speak. She couldn't look at him like that. She didn't want to see his dead face, she wanted her memories of him to be preserved with that charming smile on his face in happier days. Not like this...not dead in the sand on some fucked up island in the middle of ocean. In the middle of these murderers. Vaas' taunts meant nothing in that moment. This man, had taken someone very dear to her...and he was practically laughing about it. Shuffling around like it was nothing, the human life he'd taken meant absolutely ...nothing. Neither woman moved to Bryan's side, leaving only Ash with his blood upon her hands. In that moment they had all effectively failed each other, it was over for them. Doug was at a distance from the scene. Alone as his knuckle pressed against the side of his nose. He had watched the entire thing, and it wasn't his first rodeo with murder, but it was obvious in his very body language that Doug wasn't exactly as tough as he portrayed himself to be, that even after everything he was standing there trying to to piss his shorts. But he played it off with his laid back demeanor and when Ash addressed him he first looked at Vaas and the camera. Suddenly it wasn't so fun being the star of this show anymore. Reality had come knocking and slowly he looked at Ash. “Money.” He replied, shrugging, “Lots of money.” - For a moment Ash could only blink at the man, looking more hurt than anything else by Doug's answer. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to get up and shake Doug by his shoulders, ask him what the hell was wrong with him, or just get up and slap him across the face. But she did none of these things, instead staring at Doug in utter disbelief with one of her closest friend's blood cooling on her hands. She let out a short, mirthless laugh as she met the cameraman's gaze, heedless of Vaas still capturing the entire moment- for what, exactly, she wasn't sure. The man was deranged and he'd made that horrifically obvious already. "Well, this has all been very moving," Vaas stated, seeming all business now that his captives were sufficiently quieted and no further outbursts occurred. After a few moments of fumbling with the thing he tossed the camera to the closest pirate and motioned with his gun toward the three women. "Let's go!" He shouted when not everyone moved quickly enough for his liking. In seconds his men had pulled the three to their feet and began pushing them in the direction of the sprawling jungle, leading them along a worn path that countless other prisoners must have been led along. As if to stand as evidence of this, along the way there were several long-abandoned backpacks and many a mismatched shoe, likely lost in some struggle and never picked up. Honestly, unless Buck had decided to leave the bar for once, the male of their little group hadn't been worth much. That, and Vaas did like having one person per group to single out, to use as an example. Often people thought he wouldn't resort to violence- where in the fuck they'd get that idea from he had no earthly clue. It wasn't as though he looked to be the friendliest of people. Likely it wouldn't even matter to Hoyt they were missing one hostage anyway, seeing as the girls were all American and pretty. Blondes and redheads were favorites, and with his luck he had both of those. The only one he could really foresee problems with was the redhead, really. She'd taken two men to bring her back, one of which was complaining nonstop about his likely missing nut. The problem was, Vaas couldn't exactly just off one of the worthwhile hostages no matter what their temper was like. With that in mind he whistled sharply to get the heavy gunner's attention. "When we get back I want you to watch her. Ok?" He nodded curtly in Scorcha's direction, pausing to wait for her and the escort to catch up with him. "You look upset, chica. Is your vacation not fun anymore? Just chill, relax, because all of us? We're gonna have a lot of fun together. I was thinking we'd make a video- who am I sending it to? Mama? Papa?" -

And so they were all collected. Each girl picked up from the ground, the big hands of the heavy gunner had pulled Sorcha clean off the ground and planted her on her feet before violently shoving her down towards the sand. While the runner had seized Scha'tzi's arm and wrenched the crying mess to her feet, but rather then shove her he guided her while she covered her face with her hands. Ash was left to Doug who had cautiously made his way forward and waved his gun at her in some fashion, but he didn't dare touch her. It was obvious that none of them were going to make any more fuss from here on out...so the men were relaxed. All except their leader – but that wasn't unusual. Vaas was always in his own world, caught in his own war, and acting upon a reality all his own that wasn't real. The guy had turned to drugs a very long time ago to make him happy...and happy he was, and often foaming at the mouth with anger to boot. And as long as the boss was happy, everyone was happy. They were lead in single file down into the mouth of the jungle. Bryan was left behind...like some piece of trash. Just left there on the beach for the gulls and crows to pluck at. She could still hear their calls even as the jungle separated before them and swallowed them hole in a maze of green's, reds, and trees so tall that their trunks were bigger then all three girls smashed together. She was a beautiful and magnificent beast, this island. But she was feral and sick all at once, sick with these red parasites and walked through the foliage with the smoothness of jungle cats...well, nine out of ten of them anyway. Sorcha was silent, tear stained eyes upon the ground as she took each step carefully with her bare feet. Yet it seemed every other step something was stabbing into her foot or her toe was smashed against something and she would hiss and stumble only to be violently shoved by the pirate behind her whom seemed to be growing more and more irritated with her inability to walk. Eventually he would just haul her over his shoulder again, but he wasn't there quite yet. He was still drinking in the sight of her gait. While the second man was at the back of the line, hand cupping the side of his inner thigh as he limped quite obviously over the rocks and roots and loose vines, cussing a little more with each painful step that he took. Whatever that whore had done to him, it was obviously bad and he glared something fierce at her back. While they were at the back, Doug was at the front. He knew the way just as well as the others did and in the merging of bodies it just so happened that he was first so follow the leader. He walked casually with his pistol hanging in his hand at his side, clearly having no real intention to use it while Ash was to walk at his side, in close enough range to either be shot point blank or quickly grabbed should she try to bolt. But Doug was sure she wouldn't even try, Ash was a good girl. But she was no tough cookie, yet she wasn't as squishy as the whimpering blonde in the middle of the line was. The runner was in the back, well surrounded, and attended to by Vaas himself – whom clearly had noticed her temper wore like dunce caps on two of his men already. It was a good place for her, cause if anyone could deal with that cockhater it would be Vaas. “You shouldn't be so upset.” Doug said quietly, “He just wanted to fuck you ya know.” Apparently she was popular. Sorcha had noticed not that she was too particularly surprised but it mattered so little right now. She walked like the dead and looked just about the same. With a throbbing lip and feet that felt like they walked on glass she had very little to say even though her tears had dried up quickly. She wasn't one to really...cry after all. She was the tough one. She didn't have the luxury of being a weakling or showing her emotions too strongly. Yet as she watched each passing backpack and shoe she was drinking in the grim reality of this island, all those things belong to others lured here too. Which meant that this place was a hub for these kidnappers and that means it was most likely one vein of a much larger system. They had walked into a ring of some type. And this one, this ...thing... was the enforcer of that ring – but he wasn't the boss. That much she was certain of. Amber eyes had flickered upward to find Vaas as he grew closer from somewhere near the front of the line, having told the man who's heavy hand had shoved her for the upteenth time in the last five minutes that he was to babysit her when they got to where they were going. She heard the guy groan with a severe lack of enthusiasm back there. It made her feel slightly better, knowing she was making at least a few of their days complete hell. But she couldn't help to look past the pirate king as he walked just a ways in front of her to find her companions backs. She couldn't see their faces but she felt strangely alienated from them, like they blamed her for something. And maybe they did. She was always the one who protected them...and she'd sat there and done nothing like a coward. She looked down in shame, shaking her head. She hated this. And she hated the thought even more...but Bryan was gone and he wasn't coming back. And it was her ow failure to blame. But she wasn't going to loose anymore friends to these fiends and she wasn't going to let them fall into this black world that lay ahead of them. They couldn't protect themselves...so she had to do it for them. Cause she was the hero, always the hero. A memory flicked into her mind then of a green jacket with USMC patched onto the sleeve. A jacket worn by a man who's face she couldn't recall, but the name “Drake” was stitched onto the front pocket. He was kneeling down before her and she was enthralled in her teddy bear that she'd just saved from a plastic dragon and his hand combed through her auburn hair. Don't let a tyrant take your freedom away from you. Those were the words that he spoke before he got up and hauled his bag upon his shoulder and disappeared out the door. It was the first time and the last time she would ever see that man. And only a year later her mother would cry on the kitchen floor after a phone call. But she would never understand why at such a young age, not until she was older would she understand. She looked at Vaas as he walked there, so close she could touch him if she wanted to. But who in their right mind would want to? She'd probably get some venereal disease if she looked at him for too long or something. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, he probably hadn't. She smelt like the seat and sweat. Her nose crinkled in disgust. And then he looked back at her and for a moment she thought his eyes were yellow...were they green? Her eyes turned away, hoping he hadn't noticed her leering at him the way that she was. And she made a sort of subtle expression as if to shrug and or disagree with him. This vacation never was fun from the start in her opinion. Just painful. “I don't like your fun.” Sorcha replied blandly, looking away into the trees, “Don't like you either.” She added venomously past her shoulder, earning another good shove from the heavy gunner.

For the first time since they'd begun walking Ash's expression changed from the zoned out, glassy-eyed stare as she turned to watch Doug with a sardonic half-smile. "Yeah?" She gave something like a quiet laugh, though there was no real amusement behind it. "You're unbelievable. Why would that matter? That's not the point. I still cared." She paused for a moment, her eyes burning with tears threatening to fall that she managed to blink back. "I wouldn't wish death like that on anyone. Not even you," She added softly, and she meant it at that moment. "I just wonder how you sleep at night, ever." Rather than explode again, Vaas snickered loudly and cocked his head to regard the girl with a grin. "You don't like me?" He repeated. "I'm hurt. Really, I am. Here I am providing shelter for you, and getting mom and dad on the phone so you can go home, and you don't like me? That hurts, chica. Cuts me deep." He mimed stabbing himself in the throat with a knife, then feigned wide innocent eyes. "Oh shit. I almost forgot your friend got cut." He burst out laughing at his own awful joke, patting Scorcha's shoulder when she didn't join in. As they approached what must have been the pirates' base his good mood faltered for only a moment before quickly returning in full swing. "Don't be so sensitive, nena. Look, I'll give you time to cool off, ok? And then when I come back, we're gonna talk about your ransom. Ok?" He nodded as though Scorcha had responded positively and broke off from the convoy then to attend to business elsewhere. "Think about it!" He called over his shoulder, and he was gone in the run down fortress. Ransom? Ash's heart sank and she could feel the blood drain from her face as the word echoed in her head. Of course they wanted ransom money, but it hadn't occurred to her until then to be concerned about it. Who the hell was she going to call? The pirates could try calling Reverend Cordell or his not-so-sweet right hand woman, but she knew for a fact they'd get nowhere with either of them. The only thing about that entire situation that brought any comfort was the thought of the religious lecture the caller would surely get. She doubted any of these men had ever been quoted scripture, at least nothing like her father. That comfort was only momentary, however, as the full gravity of the situation formed a cold sinking feeling in her chest. If the price of their freedom was having someone willing to pay for it, Ash was going nowhere. Her college was full of harlots and sinners and liars and you'll burn with them, according to the two of them. She didn't even notice when she was ushered into a bamboo cage, didn't notice when the door was shut and chained and locked. She managed to snap out of it long enough to look Doug in the eye, not with any plea but with a look that said You're responsible more clearly than any words could. She sunk down to the ground to lean against the bars of her cage, realizing only then that in her state of disconnect she had no idea where either Scorcha or Scha'tzi had been taken. She hadn't expected to be all placed together, but she'd certainly wondered if they'd be nearby. Looking around, though, Ash wasn't sure if she just couldn't see them or if they were in entirely different parts of the compound. What now?

#farcry 3 #rp #fanfic #vaas montenegro #citra talugmai #douglas stephenson #hoyt volker #OC #lions and lambs #dennis rogers #farcry

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