11-19-2015, 12:41 AM
The carpenter's hands fell to his sides, stinging. They'd been skinned raw by that damn box, and running them through his scratchy beard wasn't helping. He turned to his companions on duty, raising his head and opening his mouth before catching himself and turning away. Right. Bullshit rules. No words within 10 feet, nothing but whispers within 20. 'S pure bullshit.
He caught the eyes of the two others in the wagon. There were six beefy woodsmen, secondaries, on box-duty rotation - Two hours per shift, one per break. The man in the wagon was his shift partner, and the girl at his side was his daughter, along for the ride. Though, such a gruesome journey hardly seemed fit for one of her stature and mentality.
Really, there was no reason he couldn't be sitting in the wagon too. He had been on his feet for the better part of a day. These days, though, with all the traffic for that tournament nonsense, it was better to have a somewhat aware guard at hand, and the girl seemed to appreciate what time she could spend with her father.
Now, though, he was bored out of his mind, and needed someone to talk to. The sitters were engaged in quiet conversation, whispering with their heads together, as per the rules. The bullshit rules. He slowly sauntered over, taking up stride beside the wagon, and leaned over the bespectacled man.
"Why the hell are we doing this again? Seems to just be more trouble than it's worth," he mumbled as quietly as he could make himself. He knew the answer, of course; It'd been repeated to them so many times on the way, and this certainly wasn't the first time he'd asked over the course of the trip. The idea was to bring the magic chick back to the town, suck her dry of Omnillium, and then, uhh... Profit? The ringleader was never super clear on that front, but he was quite the influential speaker - probably because of his own status as a wielder of magic. And so here they were, keeping a 20 foot ring of silence around a Shcroedinger's Chick-in-a-box. He cursed himself under his breath for succumbing to the pressure and coming along for THIS hellish ride.
Don turned his own head up after a moment of reflection with a chuckle and a halfhearted "I don't even know anym-" before freezing, eyes glued to the ground. "Uh, man, look at this..."
It took the carpenter a moment to realize what Don was looking at - After all, it did blend in pretty well with the reddish dirt of the road - but as soon as he saw it, it became painfully obvious that he should have much, much sooner. There was a slow but steady stream of bloody, foul-smelling liquid dripping from the back corner of the box. It seemed none of the pallbearers had noted the disturbance, but turning back, he could see that the trail continued back a good hundred meters. How had they not noticed sooner? If the barrier was in any way broken, the spell would also begin to fail. That was what the sorcerer had said, but nothing had changed yet. Was she unconscious? Or, had she given up? No, if that were the case, there certainly would have been be no breach in the box. It had, after all, been painstakingly checked over and reinforced during the planning stages.
In any case, nothing else had changed. The girl in the box didn't seem to be struggling for the moment, and Don had calmed down a little bit. He turned back to his companion. "Er, you wanna break it to the others, or...?"
This elicited little response. The man in the wagon still had his eyes trained on the leak. He hopped up from his seat as quietly as he could, and began jogging forward to inspect the box.
"Wai-" He began to call out, cutting himself off. Sound rules. Damnit. He squinted his eyes, watching as Don approached the box to the confusion of the closest corner-holder. He crouched, slipping under the box to look for the leak. The carpenter watched with bated breath as Don's eyes quickly widened and he burst out from under the box, nearly taking down the men holding up the right side. The four carriers' heads turned toward their crazed companion, and he began to mouth words at them that the carpenter couldn't make out. The carriers turned to eachother, shrugging in confusion, before again facing the wildly gesticulating madman to their side. Don silently growled in frustration, and out of his mouth came a deafening "There's a goddamn hole in the box! How the HELL didn't you even -"
The carpenter fell backwards, shielding his eyes and the girl at his side as the box shattered, millions of tiny black shards whizzing through the air on the back of a nausea-inducing gust of pure, vile stench. A pale demon floated from the rubble, enshrouded in a cloud of half-frizzy, half-matted hair and the ever-encroaching perfume of weeks' worth of collected blood, vomit and fecal matter. The five pallbearers close enough to feel the full effect of its spectacular aroma had fallen to the ground, vomiting and crying out as the black shards embedded themselves deep into their bodies. The demon's sticky, stained body spun in the air, glowing and revealing to the world its depraved nakedness before covering itself with... A cheetah suit?
The carpenter met her eyes, then. They glowed not with the energetic curiosity they'd seemed to before her capture, but with an aura of vengeance. He found himself paralyzed as the woman's hand flicked and landed a dagger in his forearm, pinning it to the wagon. He cried to the sky in agony, turning to the girl at his side. She had been lucky to avoid most of the initial explosion, but it seemed her leg had been stuck with a single shard, and her eyes were brimming with painful tears.
"Go! Get away!" the carpenter cried. The girl hesitated, looking for her father in the midst of the maeltrom of blades the scarlet devil had procured on those surrounding the box. Catching a glimpse of his mangled, disembodied face, she gasped in fright and shock, then dragged herself off of the wagon and into the nearest concealing-looking patch of grass at the roadside.
He turned his gaze back to the fight - Or at least, what was left of it. One final body remained screaming, switching, and the escaped warrior promptly silenced it with a dagger to the heart before again locking eyes with him. She paced rapidly but steadily towards the carpenter, barely visibly wincing each time her left leg slammed into the ground but never letting it slow her pace. She stopped at the wagon, thrusting forwards a bloodied, foul-smelling blade to rest on his trembling neck.
"Why have you done this?" Her voice was commanding, but weaker than he'd expected. He supposed it must have been because she had been stuck in the deprivation box for that long. The carpenter found himself surprisingly calm in the face of this viciously odorous assassin.
"I- I- I- He just told us to! We were going to take you back and use the Omnilliium for... For..." Well, and he still wasn't quite sure, was he?
It didn't matter, anyway. The blade ran through his throat, and he was no longer able to speak, for blood and steel had blocked his airway. His neck bubbled and his eyes popped as he stared at the clear, blue sky. What terrible last words. And what a fine final view.
He caught the eyes of the two others in the wagon. There were six beefy woodsmen, secondaries, on box-duty rotation - Two hours per shift, one per break. The man in the wagon was his shift partner, and the girl at his side was his daughter, along for the ride. Though, such a gruesome journey hardly seemed fit for one of her stature and mentality.
Really, there was no reason he couldn't be sitting in the wagon too. He had been on his feet for the better part of a day. These days, though, with all the traffic for that tournament nonsense, it was better to have a somewhat aware guard at hand, and the girl seemed to appreciate what time she could spend with her father.
Now, though, he was bored out of his mind, and needed someone to talk to. The sitters were engaged in quiet conversation, whispering with their heads together, as per the rules. The bullshit rules. He slowly sauntered over, taking up stride beside the wagon, and leaned over the bespectacled man.
"Why the hell are we doing this again? Seems to just be more trouble than it's worth," he mumbled as quietly as he could make himself. He knew the answer, of course; It'd been repeated to them so many times on the way, and this certainly wasn't the first time he'd asked over the course of the trip. The idea was to bring the magic chick back to the town, suck her dry of Omnillium, and then, uhh... Profit? The ringleader was never super clear on that front, but he was quite the influential speaker - probably because of his own status as a wielder of magic. And so here they were, keeping a 20 foot ring of silence around a Shcroedinger's Chick-in-a-box. He cursed himself under his breath for succumbing to the pressure and coming along for THIS hellish ride.
Don turned his own head up after a moment of reflection with a chuckle and a halfhearted "I don't even know anym-" before freezing, eyes glued to the ground. "Uh, man, look at this..."
It took the carpenter a moment to realize what Don was looking at - After all, it did blend in pretty well with the reddish dirt of the road - but as soon as he saw it, it became painfully obvious that he should have much, much sooner. There was a slow but steady stream of bloody, foul-smelling liquid dripping from the back corner of the box. It seemed none of the pallbearers had noted the disturbance, but turning back, he could see that the trail continued back a good hundred meters. How had they not noticed sooner? If the barrier was in any way broken, the spell would also begin to fail. That was what the sorcerer had said, but nothing had changed yet. Was she unconscious? Or, had she given up? No, if that were the case, there certainly would have been be no breach in the box. It had, after all, been painstakingly checked over and reinforced during the planning stages.
In any case, nothing else had changed. The girl in the box didn't seem to be struggling for the moment, and Don had calmed down a little bit. He turned back to his companion. "Er, you wanna break it to the others, or...?"
This elicited little response. The man in the wagon still had his eyes trained on the leak. He hopped up from his seat as quietly as he could, and began jogging forward to inspect the box.
"Wai-" He began to call out, cutting himself off. Sound rules. Damnit. He squinted his eyes, watching as Don approached the box to the confusion of the closest corner-holder. He crouched, slipping under the box to look for the leak. The carpenter watched with bated breath as Don's eyes quickly widened and he burst out from under the box, nearly taking down the men holding up the right side. The four carriers' heads turned toward their crazed companion, and he began to mouth words at them that the carpenter couldn't make out. The carriers turned to eachother, shrugging in confusion, before again facing the wildly gesticulating madman to their side. Don silently growled in frustration, and out of his mouth came a deafening "There's a goddamn hole in the box! How the HELL didn't you even -"
The carpenter fell backwards, shielding his eyes and the girl at his side as the box shattered, millions of tiny black shards whizzing through the air on the back of a nausea-inducing gust of pure, vile stench. A pale demon floated from the rubble, enshrouded in a cloud of half-frizzy, half-matted hair and the ever-encroaching perfume of weeks' worth of collected blood, vomit and fecal matter. The five pallbearers close enough to feel the full effect of its spectacular aroma had fallen to the ground, vomiting and crying out as the black shards embedded themselves deep into their bodies. The demon's sticky, stained body spun in the air, glowing and revealing to the world its depraved nakedness before covering itself with... A cheetah suit?
The carpenter met her eyes, then. They glowed not with the energetic curiosity they'd seemed to before her capture, but with an aura of vengeance. He found himself paralyzed as the woman's hand flicked and landed a dagger in his forearm, pinning it to the wagon. He cried to the sky in agony, turning to the girl at his side. She had been lucky to avoid most of the initial explosion, but it seemed her leg had been stuck with a single shard, and her eyes were brimming with painful tears.
"Go! Get away!" the carpenter cried. The girl hesitated, looking for her father in the midst of the maeltrom of blades the scarlet devil had procured on those surrounding the box. Catching a glimpse of his mangled, disembodied face, she gasped in fright and shock, then dragged herself off of the wagon and into the nearest concealing-looking patch of grass at the roadside.
He turned his gaze back to the fight - Or at least, what was left of it. One final body remained screaming, switching, and the escaped warrior promptly silenced it with a dagger to the heart before again locking eyes with him. She paced rapidly but steadily towards the carpenter, barely visibly wincing each time her left leg slammed into the ground but never letting it slow her pace. She stopped at the wagon, thrusting forwards a bloodied, foul-smelling blade to rest on his trembling neck.
"Why have you done this?" Her voice was commanding, but weaker than he'd expected. He supposed it must have been because she had been stuck in the deprivation box for that long. The carpenter found himself surprisingly calm in the face of this viciously odorous assassin.
"I- I- I- He just told us to! We were going to take you back and use the Omnilliium for... For..." Well, and he still wasn't quite sure, was he?
It didn't matter, anyway. The blade ran through his throat, and he was no longer able to speak, for blood and steel had blocked his airway. His neck bubbled and his eyes popped as he stared at the clear, blue sky. What terrible last words. And what a fine final view.
![[Image: Erza_kicks_Happy.gif]](http://images4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20121027120537/fairytail/images/e/ed/Erza_kicks_Happy.gif)