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Post by K Man on Dec 4, 2014 10:12:43 GMT -5
The rain had started early this day in Salem. It was the cold fall rain that often turned to drizzle and snow in the late afternoon. Carrington trudged along, the muddy street clinging to his boots as if the very Earth were saying 'you can stop this Blake....you can turn this around...' but unmoved, the Minister continued his trek. Towards the East, the sun showed signs of life, sending tendrils of deep purple and orange into the clouds above. The village was still mired in sleep. Shutters were still closed, hearths puffing their last dying breaths yet to be stoked by the fires of the morning meals.
The Minister had managed to get a little sleep last night - deep, restful sleep. The combination of sexual release and the promise of socially accepted murder somehow gave Blake's soul much needed rest. Signs he was on the right path. Signs that the pacts he had made deep in the wilderness with unspeakable beasts were justified, that they were right. Minister Carrington pulled his hat brim low and picked up the pace, eager to see this deed done before too much of the day had gone by. The rain began to fall in a sheet across his face.
His boots fell heavy on the wooden steps of the small cottage on the outskirts of town. The ramshackle porch barely kept the rain from soaking the simple door. Preacher Carrington reached forward for the door, his other hand wrapping around the knife under his vest....he knew it was early enough he would catch him still sleeping...
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Post by TheZebraShakes™ on Dec 4, 2014 20:55:30 GMT -5
I dont think I have anything to add right now. I'm assuming Blake is @ Thomas's house?
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Post by K Man on Dec 4, 2014 20:59:43 GMT -5
Could be the assumption, I left it open in case someone wanted to put in a surprise.
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Post by TheZebraShakes™ on Dec 5, 2014 14:09:09 GMT -5
Maybe more details since it is your big scene and people might not know what to do/how to react without having to make a scene of their own. I was just thinking of it from tabletop POV, "minister walks to someone's house and then he gets there," (of course in pbp doing that is FAR more dramatic) which is a vague scene unless we could pick dice and fill in blanks. Though I dont think yakumo been on yet if he wants to add on but I think lin wasn't exactly sure what to do.
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Post by K Man on Dec 5, 2014 18:01:44 GMT -5
- Maybe preacher is headed to Silence's house to try and get him to turn, plus he has Thomas' gun
- Maybe preacher is headed to a hired muscle's house for extra help
- Maybe preacher is headed to another persons' house to kill them, to pin it on Thomas and watch him hang
Lots of options.
Either way I'll continue tonight or tomorrow morning if Yakumo has nothing to add.
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Post by TheZebraShakes™ on Dec 5, 2014 21:02:52 GMT -5
Yah I thought of those too I think though that the premise is for the person who's scene it is to decide which of those and then everyone else to decide the outcome good or bad and help you play out your scene to fruition, that's why lin was hesitating to post and I didn't want to hijack your scene so I just thought id mention it to keep things rolling :-D
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Post by K Man on Dec 6, 2014 9:30:48 GMT -5
[Fair Enough]
Carrington tested the door, found it offered no resistance. The ramshackle wood door opened easily. The early dawn spilled a little light into the cottage, but not a noticeable amount - and surely not enough to wake the man slumped over the table. Forcing himself to gently lower his boots instead of the usual, heavy-footed steps he would take, Blake slipped in and pushed the shoddy door closed behind him. The air inside was musty; a mix of molded bread, dried meat and lost dreams. The hearth was cold.
Thomas Hoban was sound asleep.
The man lay slumped over the farm table near the hearth, one arm stretched out and his face pressed hard into it. His hands were muddy, his boots covered in earth from the digging in the woods the night before. But the Minister knew that for all his digging and effort, Thomas was empty handed....and lacking the love he thought he had. The Sykes had taken his stuff, the Preacher had taken his woman...and now Carrington was going to take everything else.
Blake slid across the floor, barely lifting his boots, holding his breath so that even the dust was not disturbed. The knife slipped out of its sheath in one fluid move. His other hand reached out for the sleeping mans' arm, to hold him in a precarious position just in case he woke. Carrington stared down the length of the blade as if his will alone would be enough to complete this awful - but necessary - deed. There was no time for the ritual, no time for complete preparation...Carrington just hoped the sacrifice would still be enough. The knife would need to be plunged into his heart, his life would still need to be snuffed out...just a few more inches...
"Preacher?"...Thomas Hoban was waking up...
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Post by K Man on Dec 8, 2014 17:56:25 GMT -5
[lol...really? No one is going to step in and save ol' Thomas 'Shawshank' Hoban? If not, I'll presume white dice all around and he dies by morning.  ] |
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Post by TheZebraShakes™ on Dec 8, 2014 18:34:49 GMT -5
Well I was gonna pick black dice, but I was waiting to see if yakumo came around since he's been scarce on the boards. Not sure if he's still sick or forgot about us  lolol |
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Post by K Man on Dec 11, 2014 13:14:03 GMT -5
It turned out to be his last words. That was all Thomas Hoban could get out before Carrington's knife found it's mark. That soft, open area of throat just under one's chin stretching back towards the neck. The knife was driven with such force that it found purchase in the wooden table beneath, embedding in it firmly. Thomas pulled back; instinctively...reflexively, his body taking over in trying to flee from the early morning predator. He jerked with such force that the blade was pulled free of his throat - yet stuck in the table, shuddering like a tuning fork. His neck flayed open wide in response, flaps of skin snapping open like a frayed rope. Thomas reached for his neck, a futile effort to stem the blood flowing in rivers down the front of his shirt. His arms shook, the very fluid used to power them spraying out freely. Carrington took a step back, watching this man empty lifeblood onto the floor. Thomas' eyes spoke volumes ; betrayal, anger, vengeance...all of it falling deaf on the cold gaze of the Minister. This was a plan that had come to fruition after ten careful years of planning, of building, of making treatises with the dark dwellers. Carrington needed Thomas dead, or more specifically he needed Thomas' heart...which, of course in the matter of anatomical study meant he needed to be dead. The plan...or more appropriately, the bargain, demanded the heart of a pure man torn between faith, love and selfish desires. Thomas was just that. Of course, the bargain didn't call for late night, forceful coitals with the Sykes girl...but that just meant things were looking up for Blake already. And much like indulging in those base desires, Carrington found the euphoria of murder to be equally...arousing. In the half-minute or so it took Thomas to become still, the Preacher experienced the unlikely sensation of pleasure, joy, and release. When he finally was still, the only sound that of dripping blood from relaxing fingertips, Carrington went to work. He pulled the knife free of the table and plunged it into Thomas' chest. Like a lumberjack sawing a log, Carrington forcefully plunged the knife, pulling it in a circle around his heart. When the path was complete, Carrington pushed on the knife and angled the blade to pop the ribs free of their cage. There, in a quickly draining pool of blood was Thomas' heart. With filthy hands, Carrington forcibly grabbed it and yanked it free, veins and muscle tearing like a ship from it's moorings in a storm. The Minister plunged the bloody knife back into its sheath and made haste to the door. Once into the cool morning air, his feet pounded hard carrying him into the dense woods around Salem. Carrington only had two hours to complete the ceremony and conclude the bargain...he silently prayed to the darkness to keep the sun at bay just a little longer....
Sorry Yakumo...  lol...I still love ya, I just needed this one thing. |
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Post by TheZebraShakes™ on Dec 11, 2014 20:50:08 GMT -5
Omg kman it's like you've been waiting ten years just to write that scene, you should write horror novels lololol.
If yakumo does come back he can still do scenes even though he's dead. I guess me or lin is next, I'll ask if he wants to go 1st
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lolol
lol...I still love ya, I just needed this one thing.