Revival Dawn - One Piece RP
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Happy belated Halloween, folks! As is tradition on Revival Dawn, we have a Halloween Event going currently. This time, we even have a theme! The participation rewards for this event are substantial, so don't miss this opportunity to write a spooky story!
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Admin
[Event] Halloween Contest 2020 and More Quest Grader Tryouts Rsz_co12
Name : The Administrator
Epithet : The Admin
Age : 9999
Species : Artificial Intelligence
Faction : Administration
Crew : Administrators
Ship : The Administering
Crew Position : Administrator
Devil Fruit : Admin Admin no Mi
Haki Level : 9
[[haospec]][[busospec]][[kenbunspec]]
Hitpoints (HP) : 9999
Attack (ATK) : 9999
Defense (DEF) : 9999
Reflex (RX) : 9999
Willpower (WP) : 9999
Level : 9999
Experience Points : 999999
Bounty :
Income Multiplier :
Shop Discount :
Berries Berries :
[[strollingdeath]][[thechosenone]][[baneoftheweak]][[riseandshine]]
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[Event] Halloween Contest 2020 and More Quest Grader Tryouts Empty [Event] Halloween Contest 2020 and More Quest Grader Tryouts

on Sat Oct 31, 2020 8:26 am

Halloween Contest 2020 And More Quest Grader Tryouts




As if 2020 isn't scary enough already. Let's make it feel less scary by writing scarier things.

Attention!



Ahoy-o, sailors! Halloween is here! I hope you brought your costumes. If not, I hope your regular get up is spooky enough. It's time for another Halloween Contest!



A Contest? Now?



For any of you newkamas, Revival Dawn has a tradition of doing a Halloween Contest every year (at least when I'm around this time of year). To participate in this contest, please submit a spooky story set loosely in the Revival Dawn universe. However, this year, you may also submit a story set outside of the One Piece universe if you so choose. This non-canon story must be 1,000 to 4,000 words long and doesn't necessarily have to be a horror piece either. Some say funny is the new spooky.



Halloween Prizes



The prizes for this event are as follows:
Ancient Zoan Devil Fruit
A Tier 5 Equipment Piece
One Free Professional Perk of your choice

Winning one of the above prizes is entirely up to you and your fellow site members. Once submissions are closed, voting for your favourite stories will begin. The winner (writer of the story with the most votes) will get first pick from the prizes. The runner-up will get the second pick. The third place holder will get whatever's left.



Teacher's Pet Dadmin's Pick



This year, I will also be picking my favourite story. The writer of this story will be awarded a Special Perk from the Shop of Dreams of my choosing based on what's suited for their character.


Participation Reward



Any players who submit a story that meets the word-requirement will get participation rewards based on the following criteria:

Submitted a story: 20,000,000
Used one of your characters in the story: +5,000,000
Conforms to this year's theme: +10,000,000

Based on which criteria you meet above, you can earn up to 35,000,000!



Theme? What's that about?



This year, I have decided to add a theme on top of the already established spooky nature of these stories. This year's theme shall be... Dogs!


As a child growing up on the shitty streets of Western India, I had a very unhealthy relationship with dogs. And by unhealthy, I mean I was morbidly terrified by most of them. I can't begin to count the number of times I must have been chased by stray mutts. However, since moving to Canada, my aversion to the canine species has faded and I have even grown to adore it.

Today, I challenge you to reignite my trauma and remind me of how horrifying the little (or not so little) fuckers can be. As such, to earn a portion of the maximum participation prize for this year, you must write your piece around the terror that is dogs. Controversial? Yes. But, the best pieces are often filled with controversy!



Quest Grader Tryouts



As you may have noticed, grading a quest can be time-consuming and mentally draining. As such, I am always looking for quest graders to help out.

Because a big part of a quest grader's job is to judge another person's writing, it is only fair that the quest graders meet a certain standard themselves.

Any accepted applicants for the quest grader positions will be able to grade quests (with a little bit of training). Quest graders earn 200,000 per post they grade. So, if a quest grader grades a 10-post episode, they will earn 2,000,000 for their efforts.

To apply for a quest grader position, you simply need to participate in this Halloween Event with a story. In your submission, you must include an OOC Spoiler indicating your interest in being considered for a quest grader position.

Once the contest ends, your writing will be assessed by myself and I shall get in touch with you if you qualify.



Deadline?




The deadline for you to bark up a spooky tree is currently set to Monday, November 16, 2020, 12:00 PM EST Tuesday, December 1, 2020, 12:00 AM EST.



Maxwell
[Event] Halloween Contest 2020 and More Quest Grader Tryouts Vk6odI4
Tracker

Name : Richard Maxwell
Epithet : Plague Rat
Age : 47
Height : 6'0" / 183 cm
Weight : 160 lbs. / 73 kg
Species : Human
Faction : Pirate
World Position : Supernova
Crew : --
Ship : --
Crew Position : --
Haki Level : 2
Hitpoints (HP) : 200
Attack (ATK) : 300
Defense (DEF) : 500
Reflex (RX) : 600
Willpower (WP) : 200
Level : 68
Experience Points : 6845
Bounty : 194,000,000
Shop Discount : -10%
Berries Berries : 365,005,000
[[bookworm]][[firstaidkit]]
[[atkt3]][[atkt3]][[deft5]]
Posts : 113
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[Event] Halloween Contest 2020 and More Quest Grader Tryouts Empty Re: [Event] Halloween Contest 2020 and More Quest Grader Tryouts

on Sat Nov 07, 2020 7:46 am
Black wind howled. The heavens wept. A blanket of inky clouds snuffed out the sun. Only flashes of lightning offered brief light, slashing jagged lines across the air. The ocean roiled like a stew being stirred by a mad cook. Violent waves and whirlpools tossed around a large merchant ship. Or what little was left of it anyway... The sails resembled handkerchiefs, well-used. One of the three masts splintered from a sudden lightning bolt, keeling over dead. The hull scraped against rocks and drank deep. Icy rain whipped the few fools brave enough to try and prepare emergency boats. Inside, seawater rushed in faster than any number of buckets could carry out. The passengers scurried up onto the deck in an orderly manner of total panic. There weren’t enough boats and everyone knew it. One after another, they fell into the sea, swallowed by the hungry currents. Only the captain, a gray seadog whose smile was no different from his frown, remained behind to respect a grim tradition.

Somewhere on the turbulent sea, a soaked rat found something priceless... Solid land. A huge wave washed a sharp-dressed man onto the shore. With a chocolate brown suit made of fine silk, he could have passed for a respectable gentleman in a more... arid situation. He coughed and sputtered, desperate to trade some of the salty water in his lungs for fresh air. Alive... Barely, but still alive. Some might call him incredibly lucky, while snarkier souls could claim he was simply so vile even the ocean spat him out. The latter theory got credence when the next wave flung a large suitcase right onto his head. Twirling stars filled his vision. As the final insult, a wide-brimmed hat came fluttering in the wind and flopped onto his face.

Fortunately, Richard Maxwell, a self-proclaimed entrepreneur and more commonly proclaimed crook, had a thick skull. Handy in his line of work. Uttering a string of words unfit for print, he grabbed his suitcase, shook the seaweed out his hat and took in his surroundings. He was greeted by the chilling sight of a dark, twisted forest. Thorny bushes formed natural barriers. Branches reminiscent of grasping arms rustled with the howling wind. The only way forward was a lonely path snaking between the trees. His shoulders sagged with a weary sigh. Of course. How very typical. Why couldn’t it ever be a lovely beach with scantily-clad and wealthy women? With a raging sea behind him and a gloomy forest ahead of him, he chose the slightly less dangerous option and headed off.

The walk was about as pleasant as the forest itself. Richard’s eyes wandered. Shadows danced at the edges of his vision. He swore he could hear steps and panting breaths other than his own. As a man of science, he refused to believe in ghosts, monsters, or other equally silly stories. Everything had a logical explanation. Any so-called ghost was just a serial killer looking for their next victim and any monster sighting merely a mangy beast stalking prey. ...Somehow the thought failed to calm his nerves. Fear felt like a clump of tar clinging to his throat. He swallowed it with an audible gulp and hastened his steps. No such thing as monsters... The thought was becoming a mantra inside his head. Maybe eventually he would believe it.

When lost in the dark, even the tiniest light could become a guiding beacon. Once such light beckoned the lost soul closer. His very own lighthouse in the storm. Grasping his jacket to stop the wind from prying it open, he hurried closer. The path beneath his feet slowly evolved from a muddy trail to solid cobblestone. Ahead of him loomed a massive silhouette, which his squinting eyes vaguely registered as a mansion of sorts. It strongly resembled a gothic cathedral, with its long, pointy roofs and elaborate brickwork. The light was filtering through one of the windows. Hopefully the foolhardy nut job who would willingly live on this nightmare island was also feeling hospitable...

Richard staggered to the door, fighting against gusts of mischievous wind. He slammed his fist against the door -once, twice, thrice- hoping that his rather rude knocking wouldn’t drown beneath the thunder. Seconds crawled by slower than the raindrops down his back. Just as he raised his fist for another attempt, the door creaked ajar. Through the narrow gap peeked a single crimson eye, framed by features as white as snow and a lock of golden hair. A voice faint and pure like a silver bell chimed through in a wary greeting. “H-hello...?” Richard reflexively adjusted his tie and donned a well-practiced smile. “Ah, good evening, Miss. Terribly sorry to bother you this late, but my ship encountered an awful accident in the storm and I have nowhere else to go.” Moved by the brief sob story and the puppy-dog eyes, the young lady sniffled weakly. “Ah, you poor soul, please come in, come in.” As the door opened further, the criminal wasted no time stepping inside. A smug smile almost seeped through his thankful facade. Heh heh, still got it~!

A violent gust slammed the door shut.

Inside, the soaked rat was immediately blessed with blissful warmth. His gaze swept the surroundings, a force of habit developed over the years. The fine foyer continued the gothic theme. Gray stone lined the walls with an occasional portrait or window breaking the monotony. Countless candles on the tables and in the chandelier made the shadows dance with their wavering light. The furniture was well-kept, aside from traces of animal fur everywhere. It didn’t take a detective to find the culprits either. Yes, culprits. Plural. Even at just a quick glance, he spotted several dogs and lost count after a dozen. Some were snoozing under chairs, others were sniffing about. Few even stared back curiously.

Finally the visitor’s wandering eyes stopped onto the gracious owner of the mansion. The dainty, young lady didn’t seem a day over twenty. Her long and flowing crimson dress looked pricey, even by his clothing standards. Such a shame about the dog hair everywhere. It set a stark contrast against her deathly pale skin. Long, neatly combed locks of golden hair cascaded down her back and shoulders. They seemed to almost shine in the strange light, giving the thief dirty ideas about the girl’s money bags. A naive, rich heiress in the middle of nowhere... Would be a shame if someone were to take advantage of her obvious loneliness...

Before the silence could get awkward, the charlatan stepped up to the young woman. He removed his hat and dipped into a theatrical bow with a practiced flourish. “Ah, but where are my manners? Jackson, Mike Jackson, traveling artist.” Taking her hand, he planted a gentle kiss upon it. “Charmed to meet you, Lady...” A surprised blush painted her features and she stammered a little. “Uh, L-lady Circe. B-but please, you may call me Victoria.” The crook straightened his back and pondered the name playfully. “Victoria. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. How very fitting.” He had spent enough time trying to scam dames older and wiser than this girl to know what they wanted to hear. Judging by the coy smile playing on her lips, she was swallowing it, hook, line and sinker.

Indeed, the young heiress practically pulled the visitor deeper into the mansion. Some of the dogs followed along, strutting by her side. “It has been so awfully lonely ever since mother and father passed.” Her comment was met with a hurt whine from a plump, little corgi. She stopped to offer apologetic pats. “Aw, I’m sorry, Sir Treatbeard... I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just nice to have some company that can talk for a change.” The apology was accepted with a cheery bark. Meanwhile, the thief was struggling to hide his glee. Ah, this was just perfect. A little too perfect, his paranoia insisted, before being silenced by the massive claws of his greed. No reason to look a gift horse in the mouth. Or a gift dog, if you prefer.

To disarm the girl further, the charlatan slithered into the conversation. “And I must say it’s nice to meet someone who likes dogs as much as I do.” He lied, with the same ease as he breathed. “How many friends have you got here?” The naive dog enthusiast pondered for a moment, before shrugging with an absent-minded smile. “No idea, honestly. I think I lost count after three dozen.” Somehow the answer didn’t surprise the crook. Crazy cat ladies, crazy dog ladies, same difference as far as he was concerned. A fool and her money were easily parted.

The short walk took the duo and the dogs through twisting hallways, until they reached the guest quarters. Victoria pushed the door open to a lavish room. Silken curtains covered the windows. The fine mahogany furniture was in pristine condition, if a little aged. Even the bed was large enough for four people. She gestured to the man to step inside, but a whole horde of dogs took the invitation as well. They took their time sniffing the stranger and his belongings. “Would you care for something to eat before getting some rest?” The criminal, however, waved the kind offer aside. “Ah, I’m afraid the shock of being shipwrecked took away my appetite. I wouldn’t want to waste any food, you see.” Or eat anything poisoned... He had learned long ago not to take chances with strangers and their food.

Fortunately, the gracious host understood his situation. “It’s quite alright. Please, let me know if you change your mind.” As she turned to leave the room, the horde of dogs followed in her wake. Closing the door, Richard listened to the footsteps move away before allowing himself to relax. Routine or not, putting on this ridiculous accent and attitude was exhausting. He lifted his suitcase onto the bed. The locks popped open with a strained clank. Huh. Usually those went click... As he had feared, most of his belongings were completely waterlogged. Should’ve invested in that water-proof suitcase after all... Well, silver lining, at least his sealed rations were still in edible condition. Nothing too fancy, mind you. Just some sausages, salt pork and hardtacks. He wouldn’t go hungry for a while. Plenty of time to plan his moves.

Once the clock crept past midnight, the guest room door slowly creaked open. The rat peeked out, glancing right and glancing left. Despite his caution, he nearly stepped on a small pug that happened to be snoozing right behind his door. An irritated sigh made his moustache twitch. This is why he hated dogs... Always in the way. Speaking of which, the  whole hallway felt like a furry minefield. One misstep would set off a barking alarm. The restless sleepers were the worst. One dumb fleabag kept squirming, feet flailing like it was trying to run on the air. He narrowly avoided stepping onto its tail.

Slowly the shady silhouette stalked through the dark halls. One after another, he peeked into every room he came across. Yet he couldn’t find a trace of riches... Just dogs, dogs and more dogs. The crazy woman even slept in the same bed with those mutts. As his head started feeling heavy and motions sluggish, he was forced to retreat back into his room. Hunger was beginning to gnaw as well. But... When he went for his suitcase, he found a chilling sight. He had been robbed! Sausages, salt pork, even the hardtacks nobody ate willingly... All gone! Tufts of hair mixed with crumbs on the floor. His stare of disbelief narrowed into a squint of suspicion. Just how did a dog open the locks anyway...? However, after considering it, he shook any silly doubts out of his head. Saltwater had probably broken the mechanism again. Wouldn’t be the first time. Gah, what terrible timing. He was forced to go to bed hungry and empty-handed...

Come next morning...

...At least Richard figured it was morning. The ongoing darkness was making it hard to tell. His steadily ticking watch confirmed that the clock was past nine already. Yet outside the wind continued howling and the sky kept crying. He struggled out of the bed despite the protests of his bruised body. The minefield outside of his room was gone, probably off to... uh... do whatever it is dogs did all day. Nothing useful, he guessed. However, the universe itself conspired to prove him wrong right then and there. A large St. Bernhardt lumbered past him, dragging a broom tied to its body. Three smaller dogs followed, with tiny brooms in their teeth. The baffled man of science watched the odd sight for a moment, before deciding that teaching a dog to sweep floors was nothing special. If Marines could manage it, then marginally smarter creatures could too.

After some searching, the criminal found his gracious hostess in the dining hall. She was sitting at the end of a long table that was loaded with a delicious breakfast assortment. Pancakes, omelettes, cookies, enough to feed a whole family. The scent alone felt intoxicating. Alongside her, dogs were standing on chairs and wolfing down food from silver plates. Her smile brightened immediately, eyes twinkling like tiny stars. “Ah, good morning, Mike. I hope you slept well. Please, take a seat.” Never one to decline a polite invitation, he sat down on the opposite end. Donning the usual mask, he smiled back. “Good morning, Victoria. The bed was the softest I have ever felt. If only I could sleep in it every night.” The comment was met with a giggle. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind either...” She averted her gaze wistfully.

Beneath the mask, the crook was straining to keep a straight face. So now the mutts were eating at the same table too. Lovely. Surely the dog hairs and bacteria enhanced the meals. Worse yet, his gut groaned weakly at the dizzying scent teasing his nostrils. It had been years since he had eaten proper pancakes... One of the dogs gave him a strange look, before turning to its owner and whining. She nodded in agreement. “Ah, you are quite correct, Lady Fluffington.” She reached for a small bell and rang it gently. Right on cue, a group of dogs appeared from the kitchen, pushing a trolley filled with food. They obediently brought it to the guest. “Here you go, Mike. You must be hungry.” Her smile was as sweet as the syrup coating the pancakes.

The charlatan chose his words carefully. “Oh, I would love to, but... I’ve felt a little ill. Something in my rations must’ve gone bad.” He rose from his seat and bowed his head. “Terribly sorry, but if you could point me towards the men’s room...?” The refusal dampened the young lady’s smile somewhat, but she was understanding nonetheless. “Ah, what a shame. It’s down the hallway, fourth door on the left. Sir Barkley can show you if-” The criminal hurriedly shooed away the black lab already moving up to him, like some sort of butler. “T-thank you, but that won’t be necessary. I’ll be back in a moment.” He hurried out of the dining hall, squashing the thoughts skittering around his mind. This only proved that the crazy woman had too much free time in her hands... Nothing more.

Strutting down the hallway, the crook took the opportunity to go through some more doors. Cleaning closet, empty guest room, tea room... But no treasure room. In his search, he accidentally walked past the fourth door and instead opened the fifth. Upon looking inside, he froze. Seven dogs were sitting around a table, holding playing cards. There were bottles of booze and half-empty glasses among the chips. Two of the hounds were even smoking pipes. They turned to stare back at him, seeming equally shocked. He blinked... closed the door... and slowly opened it again. Now he simply found a group of dogs lazily snoozing on the floor. As he should have. None of that... whatever he thought he just saw there...

Eventually, the criminal had to end his search and return to the young lady before she got suspicious. The time spent with her was equally fruitless. All she seemed to care about were her darlings, as she insistently called them. Dogs this, dogs that... Not even careful prodding about how she could afford all this resulted in anything sensible. Before he even realized it, the whole day had been wasted. The storm showed no signs of ceasing either.

Another night silenced the mansion. His sleep was plagued by twisted nightmares. Sharp teeth gnashed. A shrill scream pierced his mind. The taste of warm crimson filled his mouth. Hungry... So hungry. He snapped awake in cold sweat, still trembling. His lip was bleeding, dripping red onto the blanket. Gah, of course he would bite his lip... This place was getting to him... His watch informed him that it was only 3 am. Shaking away the last trembles, he got dressed. No, he wouldn’t stay any longer. He would find those valuables even if it took all night. And if he failed to find any... His hand brushed against the holster by his side. Well, he always had other methods.

The shadow stalked through the corridors again, this time with certainty and purpose. If he were a betting man -and he was, another bad habit- then he would guess she held her valuables in her room. It was the only place he hadn’t searched yet. The heavy door slid open with a whine from the hinges. He peered inside... Only to find the bed empty. Before he even had the time to fear the worst, a deep growl rumbled behind him. Against all the protests from his cowardly instincts, he glanced over his shoulder. There stood a hound bigger than any he had ever seen, big enough to block the entire hallway. Its wild, black fur mixed with the shadows and eyes glowed like embers.

Richard took a step back, only for his retreating leg to bump into something. Another growl stole his attention. The horde of regular-sized dogs was glaring at him. Among them was the young lady, looking eerily calm. “My, Mister Maxwell, what might you be doing in here?” Her tone was surprised, but her visage was not. Reflexively the crook went for the usual excuses, until a tiny detail caught up with him. His accent slipped. “Oh, erm, I was just... uh... wait, did you call me...?” Victoria smiled with all the warmth of a winter storm. “Indeed, this little charade has gone on for long enough. I know who you are, Mister Maxwell. What you are.” She no longer hid the toxic contempt behind a sweet act.

The criminal reached for his holster, but in a heartbeat the horde was upon him. Sharp teeth dug into his clothing and flesh, pinning his limbs. Struggling was futile and painful. Victoria walked over to him with slow, deliberate steps. “All men are mere dogs. You may as well look the part too.” She curled her fingers and her nails sharpened like claws. Grasping him by the neck, she dug into his skin deep enough to draw blood. “Shhh, just relax... You will learn to enjoy the curse...” He could feel something seeping into him. His panicked scream turned into a howl. With a disgusting crack of bones, his limbs twisted into paws. Fur sprouted from his skin. The beady, green eyes turned pitch black. In a matter of seconds, the criminal disappeared and a mangy dog took his place.

Richard whimpered. He could feel his mind slipping. Memories were getting hazy. Who was this... Richard...? What was... a mind...? Thoughts disappeared. Feelings faded away... All except hunger. The cursed woman watched her new pet with smug satisfaction. “A fitting look for you. Now... Sit.” The command was met with a raspy growl. “I said SIT.” Suddenly the mangy dog wrenched itself free and lunged. Sharp teeth gnashed. A shrill scream pierced the mansion. The taste of warm crimson filled the hungry mouth... It’s not wise to test the loyalty of a hungry dog... They were once wolves, you know.

And some instincts never fade away.

________________________________________________________
Wanted Dead or Alive: Richard 'Plague Rat' Maxwell
Jeremy Filth
Tracker

Name : Jeremy Filth
Age : 19
Height : 6'2"
Weight : 220lbs
Species : Human
Faction : Marines
Haki Level : 1
Hitpoints (HP) : 150
Attack (ATK) : 100
Defense (DEF) : 95
Reflex (RX) : 110
Willpower (WP) : 100
Level : 10
Experience Points : 1000
Berries Berries : 50,000
[[hardboiled]]
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Posts : 11
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[Event] Halloween Contest 2020 and More Quest Grader Tryouts Empty Re: [Event] Halloween Contest 2020 and More Quest Grader Tryouts

on Sat Nov 07, 2020 12:08 pm
“What the f...? Where...?”

Marine ensign Jeremy Filth stirred in his bed as he woke from his slumber. At first he was confused. Where was he? Why were the lights so bright? Why did he feel so nauseous? And cold? Shit! Why couldn't he move!?

As the fog of sleep lifted from his mind a thousand questions like these seemed to race through his head and confusion quickly gave way to fear. The metal bed frame rattled loudly as the young soldier began to thrash about violently, desperate as he was to break free of the bindings. He didn't know what was going on or where he was but his gut told him that he needed to get out of there. Now!

“Hey!” he screamed into the bright, white room. “What hell is this!? Let me go!”

After several minutes of this, or perhaps just a few seconds (it was hard for him to tell) he heard the steady creak of a door opening. Jeremy could hardly move his body but he could move his head and so his eyes snapped to the source of the sound as in walked a portly looking, elderly gentleman in a lab coat. This man had short gray hair that looked as though it'd been slicked back. In the old geezer's slightly wrinkled hand was a clipboard with some papers on it. Following him was a tall, slender, young, olive skinned woman with reddish brown hair. She was wearing what looked like a nurse's uniform. In her hand was a syringe of some sorts.

The man walked over to young Jeremy, his pace slow and deliberate. Jeremy's eyes fixated on the old man the way a trapped animal might fixate on it's trapper. The older fellow, Doctor Inu according to the name tag on his coat, looked at Jeremy then at his clipboard then back at Jeremy, then over to the younger woman.

“Nurse, please administer the sedative to Mr. Filth.” Doctor Inu's voice was a little raspy but his tone was calm and deliberate just like his gait.

Jeremy tried to protest but it did no good. He hadn't noticed right away but the reason he couldn't o move was because, at some point, he'd been placed in a straight jacket. This jacket in turn was connected tightly to the bed with thick leather straps. In Jeremy's arm, puncturing one of the veins in his wrist was a thin metal needle. The needle was attached to an only slightly thicker, clear, plastic hose. The hose snaked it's way out through a slit in the jacket where it was attached on the other end to some sort of IV drip. To administer the sedative the nurse simply detached that end from the drip chamber of the bag and inserted her syringe into it. When she was done she hooked to the hose back up to the bag.

Whatever was in that syringe, it acted quickly and Jeremy began to feel calmer almost immediately. He was still on edge but at least now he could think more clearly. He still didn't know what was going on or why he was bound up in what he could now clearly see was a hospital. His eyes had adjusted to the bright florescent lights above him and he began to notice the lingering smell of vomit and the pungent, slightly metallic smell of whatever chemicals had been used to clean it up.

“Ensign Jeremy Filth,” Jeremy's attention snapped back to Dr. Inu (if that was his real name) as the doctor began to speak again in the same calm, deliberate tone as before. “Age 19. Blood type O negative. Born on Black Drum Island. Marine for just under a year. No devil fruit consumption. No cybernetic enhancements. My name is Doctor Yoi Inu. How are you feeling Mr. Filth?”

“The fuck you think I'm feeling Doc?” snapped Jeremy, his voice angry and his tone hostile. Doctor Inu seemed unphased by this.

“Do you know where you are?” asked the doctor.

“Some hospital somewhere,” answered Jeremy this time in a slightly more subdued manner.

Doctor Inu smiled and nodded before writing something down on his clipboard. “That's correct. You're at Saint Anthony's Hospital on Baterilla. Do you remember when you arrived at the island?”

“Yeah. Must of been a few weeks ago doc. I remember that because it was pitch black that night and storming like nothin' I'd ever seen. Damn boat nearly capsized on the way in.”

Doctor Inu continued to take notes. “And do you remember why you were coming to Baterilla?” he asked.

Jeremy nodded. “I do,” he said, futilely yanking at his restraints “but first why don't you tell me why I'm tied to this bed.” Something about the way the good doctor was speaking to him was getting on his nerves.

Doctor Inu's calm and deliberate demeanor never wavered. Not for a second. “You're here because about 24 hours ago you failed to report to your post. When your commanding officer, Captain Timothy Dillon, went to your bunk to find you he found you clutching your rifle ranting about the hounds. Captain Dillon tried to get you to calm down but you attacked him so he was forced to subdue you. That's when you were sedated and brought here.”

Jeremy leaned his head back and closed his eyes, unable to believe what he was hearing. He knew what they were talking about of course. He remembered it quite clearly. On the night the doctor was talking about he'd woken up with a sort of primal fear running down his spine. He remembered how his hands shook when he noticed those horrible, frightful eyes, at least half a dozen glaring at him from the shadows of his room.

Fearing for his life, he had grabbed and loaded his rifle. He had stayed on his bed, afraid to move, with his rifle trained on those awful, ghastly yellow eyes. After he didn't know how many hours those eyes started to move and he could make out the shapes of the creatures they belonged to.  They were wolves with fur blacker than tar and long, sharp, bloody red teeth. They moved in ways that were hard to describe, ways that were...unnatural. The last thing Jeremy remembered from that night was one of the wolves lunging towards him. When that happened he'd opened fire only to be greeted, not by the yelp of a wolf like he'd expected, but by the screams and curses of his captain.

To him it all felt so real, but this doctor, if they were a real doctor (and if this was a real hospital) was now implying that it had all been what? A dream? A delusion? Jeremy closed his eyes and sighed. He didn't know what to believe anymore. Ultimately he decided to answer Doctor Inu's questions. What choice did he have?

“We came here to investigate reports of children going missing in the woods 'round here. They don't tells us ensigns shit so I don't know all the details but I know there's been a lot of issues with human trafficking in the South Blue lately. Higher-ups probably thought it was related.”

It was at this point that Jeremy noticed that as he spoke, he'd begun to salivate a lot more than usual. To the point where his spittle seemed to form a thin watery foam around the edges of his mouth. Yet when Jeremy tried to swallow it he just...couldn't. In fact he realized that he couldn't seem to swallow anything. At all!

Jeremy quickly began to panic and strain at his restraints, desperate as he was to lift his arms and wipe away the foam. He did not want to drown in his own spit. Not while helplessly strapped to some rickety old hospital bed in some dirty, piss smelling straight jacket. Seeing and perhaps anticipating this Doctor Inu pulled a rag out of his pocket. The good doctor walked slowly over to the young, and clearly frightened marine and wiped the young man's mouth before allowing him to spit the rest up into the rag. Then as a sign of good faith, he loosened (a little) Jeremy's restraints.

“Now you were saying?” asked Doctor Inu, urging Jeremy to continue his story.

Jeremy simply nodded.

“Right so we were here looking for human traffickers. We spoke to the parents of the kids that went missing, the local school teachers, the local authorities and asked around the ports to see if there'd been any suspicious lookin' ships or anything. I'll spare you the boring details but for the first couple of days it led to a whole lot of nothing. We didn't learn anything useful 'till some kid came to our station one morning. She was a ragged looking thing, with some nasty lookin' bruises on her arms and legs. Wasn't from 'round here.”

“How could you tell?”

“The way she looked. The way she spoke. Hard to describe but she was real exotic. Like nobody I ain't seen before. Anyways...she tells us about some bad men who'd kidnapped her from here home island of...of...I  don't remember where but they had taken her here. Guessin' this was only a quick pit stop. Told us she managed to slip out of her shackles and run away. Came to us once she figured out we were the good guys.”

Doctor Inu nodded.

“Then what happened?”

“Well after we got her settled down and convinced her she'd be safe with us we got her to tell us where they'd been hiding. Apparently there was an old cave by the shore, through the woods, on one of the far sides of the island. We sent out a scout to find it an' sure enough they found it. The entrance was half covered by debris from the storm and barely big enough to fit a man through, but they found it. Inside of course was a different story. More than large enough to hide a whole crew but man that entrance was a bitch to squeeze through.”

“And did you find them?”

Jeremy shook his head.

“You mean the pirates? No, we waited till the early hours of the next morning, just before the sun rise. Captain Dillon said that'd be the best time to catch 'em with their pants down. Well the captain ain't always the sharpest tool in the shed and this was one of those times. By the time we got there they were long gone. Nothin' but the remains of a camp fire, some trash and a mostly dead dog.”

“What do you mean mostly dead?”

“Well it was some flee ridden, skin an' bones lookin' blood hound. I honestly thought the damn thing was dead till I accidentally got too close while investigating the camp site. Then I used one of my pistols to make sure it was dead.”

Doctor Inu flipped through his notes on Ensign Filth and raised an eyebrow when he came to something.

“I see? One last question Mr. Filth. Exactly how did you find out this dog was still alive.”

“Well I was digging through some trash looking for clues when that sum bitch jumped up and bit me right on the leg.”

Doctor Inu smiled and Jeremy found himself getting anxious again. Something bad was about to happen. He could feel it.

“Mr. Filth,” said the doctor, “you have rabies.”
Goldmonger
Tracker

Name : Dax Morgan
Epithet : Goldmonger
Age : 25
Height : 6'3''
Weight : 210
Species : Human
Faction : Pirate
Crew : Nox Pirates
Crew Position : Cook | Treasure Hunter | First Mate
Devil Fruit : Goru Goru no Mi
Haki Level : 4
Hitpoints (HP) : 230
Attack (ATK) : 215
Defense (DEF) : 225
Reflex (RX) : 235
Willpower (WP) : 260
Level : 36
Experience Points : 3636
Berries Berries : 321,537,500
[[hardboiled]]
Posts : 101
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[Event] Halloween Contest 2020 and More Quest Grader Tryouts Empty Re: [Event] Halloween Contest 2020 and More Quest Grader Tryouts

on Sun Nov 08, 2020 12:34 pm
[Event] Halloween Contest 2020 and More Quest Grader Tryouts Scoobd10

WIP

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[Event] Halloween Contest 2020 and More Quest Grader Tryouts Roger18
NPC
Name : Variable
Epithet : Variable
Age : 0
Height : Variable
Weight : Variable
Species : Variable
Faction : Variable
Crew : Variable
Ship : Variable
Crew Position : Variable
Devil Fruit : Variable
Haki Level : 0
Hitpoints (HP) : 0
Attack (ATK) : 0
Defense (DEF) : 0
Reflex (RX) : 0
Willpower (WP) : 0
Level : 0
Experience Points : 0
Bounty : Variable
Berries Berries : Variable
Posts : 815
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[Event] Halloween Contest 2020 and More Quest Grader Tryouts Empty Re: [Event] Halloween Contest 2020 and More Quest Grader Tryouts

on Tue Nov 17, 2020 4:14 pm

Excerpts from 'The Diary of Lily of the Valley'


October 31, 1825
Today marks the first time I write in this diary. It has been two years. Not a night goes by when I don't see her in my dreams. I can't decide if I should be happy I still see her, or if I should be upset that I forget in my dreams that she's gone. Every morning, I wake up to the crushing realisation of her absence.  

The only comfort upon waking is the fact that the bastard who took her from me is now dead. I am not ashamed to admit I preened some amount of pleasure watching him hang. But, the satisfaction of seeing the lights in his eyes snuffed in no way fills the hole left behind in my heart. And so, I'm going to follow a friend's advice and spill my thoughts into Lily's diary. I hope she would forgive me for making use of it since she could not.

November 8, 1825
This season's first snow fell last night. An unending blanket of angel dust will soon fill the valley. I haven't finished stocking up for winter yet. I remember the first time Lily experienced snow. The thought of her wading through the fluff in her clumsy snowsuit with her palms out to catch the falling flakes brings an unhealthy blend of warmth and heartache.

November 14, 1825
Last night, Lily visited me in my dreams as usual. But, this time, I somehow remembered she's gone. I held her tight and refused to let go, but, she squeezed my cheeks and swore we would be together soon. As ominous as her promise was, I was still elated over the thought of reuniting - even if it were in the next life.

November 16, 1825
While I was gathering firewood in the forest today, I heard a wolf's howl. It was a strange and lonesome sound. The valley has never had wolves, so, I wonder where it came from.

December 2, 1825
It is Lily's birthday today. Or at least the day we had decided to call her birthday. Ever since the promise she made of us being together, she stopped visiting me. Her departure from my dreams makes me wonder if she moved on. Even if she has, I'm not ready. I don't know if I will ever be.

December 4, 1825
The wolf I had heard in the valley was no wolf at all. It is a dog - an Akita, I think. I found it sitting on the porch by the door this morning. I was startled and panicked when I first walked out. But, the dog was calm, as if it had been sitting there every day for years.

It is a beautiful fluffy animal, with round blue eyes which remind me too much of Lily's. She somehow had her father's eyes, despite not being related by blood.

I fed the dog some lamb chops. It lapped up the meal as if it were a God-given gift. Once fed, it was even eager for me to pat its soft, black and white coat. I tried to see if it was a boy or a girl, but, the fur and flesh along its belly and genitals is burnt and disfigured. I felt nagging pity for the creature, so, I set out a folded blanket for it on the porch. This winter has been colder than ever. I am unsure how long it will survive.

December 8, 1825
The dog is still here. It has been waiting at the porch every morning to greet me. Today, while I was petting it, it licked the rope burn that son of a bitch left around my neck. I felt comforted by its attempts at consoling me. We were not able to keep a dog before due to Lily's allergies. With her gone even from my dreams, I think I might keep this one. It has been just a bit less lonely with another living soul around. I wonder if I should give it a name yet.

December 25, 1825
I received the greatest gift I could have this Christmas.

Today, I found the dog pushing Lily's swing on the ash tree. Later, it dug out the time capsule the three of us had buried together five years ago. Then, the strangest thing happened. When I scolded it for unearthing our memento, the dog whined "mama".

I don't know if my mind is addled and playing tricks on me after drowning in grief for so long. But, with the promise she made and the dog's behaviour today, I am convinced it is her. Lily has come back to me. She kept her promise. It may not be the same as it was, but, I am once again reunited with my sweet daughter.

January 1, 1826
Lily has been sleeping in the house next to me since Christmas. Today was the first time I could bear to step into her room in two years. This time, she was right beside me, so, I was no longer afraid of opening the door only to find my poor child's body hanging from the ceiling again.

I tried to reintroduce her to her room to see if she preferred to sleep in it as she once did. As I presumed, she came right back to my bed. I brought out some of her favourite toys but she showed no interest. I feel like a terrible mother for taking her back to that room. I think I will lock the room for good.

January 28, 1826
The past two winters had been dark and melancholy. This winter has been anything but. Lily and I wade through the snow together every day as we once used to as a family. We even built a snowman together. For the first time in two years, I laughed. I watched Lily try to roll up a ball of snow. She dug snow into a pile and then tried to push it from one side at a time only to dive into the heap and pop out frosted. Once I helped her put it together, her bright blue eyes lit up and she barked up a happy storm.

February 14, 1826
I have come to a new realisation. All those years ago, when her father and I had heard a toddler crying in the woods, I thought we had found her. But, in truth, it was Lily who had found us... found me.  When her father admitted he was sterile, I had lost all hope of having children. But, Lily came to me as the blessing I needed most. Just like she has come once again. Every new day I spend with her brings me one step back out of the dark murky waters I had been sinking into for the last two years.

April 14, 1826
Spring is here. The last of the snow melted yesterday. A few days ago, I found Lily sniffing around her father's old shed. I had not been that way ever since I burned it down to ashes. Even the thought of going around that bastard's hideout brings back memories of those rotting corpses hanging by the neck as if in a meat locker.

I realise it was my fault he murdered Lily. If I hadn't found his dirty secret, maybe he never would have turned his family into victims of his sick addiction. I still cannot fathom how a vicious freak like him could hide his true colours and play a convincingly sweet husband to me and a kind father to Lily. Even so, my bad habit of referring to that pungent monster as her father must stop.

May 5, 1826
Lily barked savagely at a frog by the pond today. I could've sworn she was going to tear it apart. Maybe she picked up some dislikes from that demon after all.

May 25, 1826
We visited the town for the first time this year. It took almost a week, but, I thoroughly enjoyed the journey together. Lily is more attuned to nature now than she ever was.

My friends in town were all delighted to see my spirits lifted by Lily's return - except for Monica. Ever the stick in the mud, she scoffed at even the thought of my daughter coming back to me. Lily never liked her before, but, this time, she seemed eager to win her affection. Maybe she wanted to convince Monica that it really was her.

This year, I invited my friends to stay with us in the valley for the summer. The guest house has gone unused since that bastard got caught. And though I feel terribly for the summer visitors whom I found murdered in his shed, I do miss the busy summers we had from the added company. It was healthy for Lily as well to be around more people for a few months.

June 17, 1826
Lonnie, Mary, and Hannah decided to join us for the summer in the valley. We all travelled back together and I made room for them in the guest house. Hannah and Mary will be leaving in two weeks, but, Lonnie plans to stay the whole summer. With Lily returned to me, I once again feel joy rather than misery when among my friends.

June 2, 1826
Mary and Hannah left for home yesterday. Their visit went by in a flash. Lily was spoiled by the multiplied attention and was sad to see them go. I think it's good for her to have the influence of other women besides her mother. I believe she appreciates it too.

June 12, 1826
Lily came home with a dreadful present today - another rabbit. This marks the second time this week. She used to hate going on hunts with the savage she called father. To think my innocent girl who loved animals might grow to enjoy hunting somehow breaks my heart.

June 25, 1826
Thankfully, Lily's predatory phase was exactly that - a phase. I think she noted my disappointment the second time and remembered her true delicate nature. Lonnie seems relieved for me too. I am happy that Lily has decided to leave the food gathering to her mother, even if her animal instincts might be wasted.

July 7, 1826
A messenger came from town yesterday. He was looking for Mary and Hannah and claimed they had not yet returned. They had pondered the thought of stopping by another village first, so I suggested that as a possibility. Even with the greatest danger in these woods brought to justice, I worried for their safety.

Lonnie apparently knew the messenger, so, she decided to leave early to have his company on her journey home. I agreed it was for the best, despite Lily's whining. The messenger stayed overnight and they departed together this morning.

Lily treated the messenger with contempt the entire time. She growled and grunted and paced around him. I couldn't admonish her for it. She never got a chance to be around men, and the one man who was in her life betrayed her in the most disgusting manner.

July 17, 1826
It started storming a few days after Lonnie and the messenger left for town. The rains have not let up for a week. Lily has been so brave. She used to cry and shriek at every crack of thunder. I don't think I would be able to handle her howling now if she were still afraid.  

August 4, 1826
The rains still continue and I fear the valley is flooded. What's worse is that I have come down with a fever. I have not been able to go out gathering or fishing, and all my dried stores had run... dry because of the summer guests. Lily sensed my desperation and managed to hunt down a rabbit and a wild goat through this unending storm. While I'm not entirely pleased with her having to resort to hunting, I am proud of her for providing aid and relief to her mother.

August 20??, 1826
I have been bedridden for the past few days/weeks. I have lost my place on the calendar. With no one around to remind me what day it is, I fear I must guess until I can visit the town again. I still don't have much strength and I can barely bring myself to write this entry. Lily has been keeping me company and sharing her warmth, but, she has developed a bothersome habit of nipping at the rope burns on my neck. While adorable, it is a bit painful, especially with my sickness.

September 14??, 1826
I have now fully recovered. I was able to go out fishing yesterday. The valley is flooded, so, fish are abundant. But, it also means I cannot visit the town as I had hoped to. I just hope Lonnie, Mary, and Hannah all made it home safely. Lately, Lily has been howling at night. I noticed that Lily lost one of her teeth. I believe that might be the reason. I assume she lost it when hunting the goat. My brave girl's sacrifice saw me through a tough time.

October 4??, 1826
A disgusting, putrid smell has filled my nostrils for the past few weeks. It seems to fade when I go out on longer walks with Lily. Maybe the fresh air helps. I wonder if it's an after-effect of my illness.

October 15??, 1826
The rotting smell is still in the air. I can hardly breathe these days unless I  go far away. The floods are receding and the valley is clearing up. We might get to visit the town soon. It would be a heaven-sent if this repulsive stench is here to stay. I don't know how Lily can take it.

October 30??, 1826
NO! Lonnie... Mary... Hannah... I found the three of them along with the messenger... They were... they were all dead... Their corpses were rotting and almost unrecognisable. What's worse is that I found them amidst the rubble of that evil demon's burnt shed! I had to run straight back home. I have locked all doors and windows. But, I cannot get rid of the smell. Lily seems confused, but, I dare not tell her what I saw. This valley is cursed. I am taking Lily away from here come morning.

October 31??, 1826
I could not sleep a wink last night as I felt I was forgetting something very important. A distant memory tugged at the corner of my thoughts. Lily hadn't yet fulfilled her promise after all, because, a foreboding realisation came to me. Her father's favourite dog... was an Akita.



Miku E. Sato
[Event] Halloween Contest 2020 and More Quest Grader Tryouts Rowdy_10
Tracker

Name : Miku Etsuko Sato
Epithet : Rowdy Rascal
Age : 18
Height : 5'0"
Weight : 106 lb
Species : Human
Faction : Pirate
Crew : Meddling Kids
Ship : The Scorned Lady
Crew Position : Captain
Haki Level : 6
Hitpoints (HP) : 250
Attack (ATK) : 475
Defense (DEF) : 200
Reflex (RX) : 375
Willpower (WP) : 375
Level : 60
Experience Points : 6003
Bounty : 105,000,000
Berries Berries : 298,312,500
[[baneoftheweak]][[childofdestiny]][[barrelcrazed]]
[[atkt2]][[deft2]]
Posts : 196
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[Event] Halloween Contest 2020 and More Quest Grader Tryouts Empty Re: [Event] Halloween Contest 2020 and More Quest Grader Tryouts

on Fri Nov 20, 2020 12:30 am
The moon was full in the dark sky, the only source of light for the poor child running down below. The tall ramshackle buildings, boarded up, abandoned, dark, all towered over him as he ran down the streets alone. The sound of his footsteps echoing off the walls around him, echoing further from a lack of any other source of noise. Though if he stopped to strain his hearing he could almost imagine the sound of baying in the distance.

In his hands was a small bundle held together with a frayed string, the boy clasped it closely to his chest and continued running down the street. The streets were uneven and the floor caked in fresh mud from the sporadic showers during the day, each step grew more difficult as his feet sunk an inch before being immediately pulled back out. His breaths were already heavy before but the lack of any type of foundation here only made them more erratic. His eyes searched around him for anywhere to take refuge.

Eventually he spotted a door that was so rotted that it had collapsed partially, allowing just enough space for him to crawl through. As he approached the door he paused as a sound in the distance sent shivers down his spine. This time he was sure he heard the distant barks. He quickly crawled through the door and started to hurriedly look around the room. The room itself was rather bare of any furnishing, with a few piles of what seemed to be rags, miscellaneous grime, and what seemed to be fragments of what was once furniture. Nothing he could use to block the entrance at all. The sounds of chains echoed from outside and forced him to search another room for somewhere to hide.

The only options were a single door frame that held no door or the staircase that had several boards missing and seemed to be barely standing. Blue wide eyes darted between the two before shutting close for a second. The parcel was squeezed tightly against his chest as he tried to think of the best place to run. A decision was made and the blue eyes reappeared, the fear still present but no longer stricken with panic. They settled on the staircase and the boy moved quickly. He lightly stepped on the first step, easing his whole foot onto it as it creaked with each additional pound he laid upon it. Eventually he discovered that it could hold him and proceeded to do this with the next step, however the sound of barks caused him to panic and forgo caution.

He began to take each step at a faster pace, as he got half way up his left foot landed on a particularly rotted floorboard and broke right through it causing him to drop until his entire leg had fallen through the board. The boy cried out in pain as he felt several scapes on his leg from the jagged edge of the floorboard. After a few seconds of pained whimpers and making sure he hadn’t dropped the package, the boy placed it on the next and used both his arms to brace himself and pulled up his leg. His breaths were ragged and pained as he could feel blood trickling down his leg as he pulled it up and flexed it to fit through the board without touching the edges.

He crawled up the rest of the stairs, taking a deep painful breath each time he moved his injured left leg, and finally managed to reach the second floor. He sat on the top step and pulled up his injured leg to his chest, hugging it and feeling warm tears going down his cheeks. He was almost positive he had splinters in his leg but didn’t know what to do. His eyes went to the wrapped bundle beside him for a moment with contemplation, however he furrowed his brows and furiously wiped at his eyes with his torn sleeve. “That’s… *sob* That’s not for me.” The boy said to himself as he steeled himself to stand back up. With a silent sob he forced himself onto his feet but was leaning heavily on his right leg. He picked up the bundle and looked around, the hallway was small and only had two rooms he could go into, one to his left and one to his right.

He wiped his eyes again and started limping into the room to his right. Inside he saw a broken bed frame that seemed to collapse in on itself, a trunk at the foot of it, and a window that overlooked the street in front of the building. As he looked towards the window the sound of rapid footsteps carried up through the window along with the rattling of chains. The boys breath picked up and he realized he didn’t have much time. He began to look at the trunk and shook his head as his breath became even more erratic, however as he began to turn around he heard a voice drift in from the window.

“I know you’re around here, boy…” Said a deep voice from the street, it sounded as if it carried over from maybe a building or two. The boy ran a pale hand through his blonde hair and began to panic. His blue eyes shot back to the trunk and widened, filling with tears as the thought of what he had to do began to form in his mind. He clutched the parcel to his chest and slowly limped towards the trunk. He stood in front of it, staring at it in fear, before the sound of banging came from below. He quickly reached for the trunk's lid , closed his eyes once he had a hold on it, pushed it open and blindly lowered himself into it. Once he was inside of it he closed the lid and kept his eyes closed the whole time.

As the lid shut the sound of splintering wood came from the floorboards along with barks. A man's deep voice could be heard but the boy simply curled up and tried to control his breaths. They were short and rapid causing him to slowly go light headed but he couldn’t help it. The walls of the trunk felt as if they were growing closer and the boy couldn’t resist letting tears flow down his face as he felt as if he was running out of breath. The sound of footsteps and claws from below only made it more difficult for him as he couldn’t calm down.

Though the sound of barks coming from what sounded like the staircase finally scared the boy enough to open his eyes. The trunk wasn’t completely devoid of light as it had several cracks in it but it only made the illusion of the walls closing around him even worse. Though his fear was redirected to the noises beyond the encroaching walls as the sound of heavy footsteps started to ascend. Each step caused the boy to curl in on himself tighter and tighter until they reached the top of the staircase. The sound of a chain going taught, claws scratching rotten floorboards, and barking caused a feeling of despair to fill the boy and he realized he had no chance at hiding or getting away.

The sounds grew closer and eventually he could see through the cracks the shadows of his pursuers. A large shadow being dragged by a smaller one entered the room, it only took a moment for them to quickly approach his prison and stand over it. “Found you.” The boy suddenly felt his prison get lifted into the air get tossed across the room, for a second he felt weightless before reality set back in. As the trunk struck the ground it shattered and the boy was sprawled out on the floor before his pursuers.

“Sic em, girl.” Was all he heard before a heavy weight landed on his back and he could feel claws piercing into his back and drawing more blood from him. A hot pain tore through the boy as he felt rows of teeth bite into his shoulder and start yanking at his shoulder. He cried out in pain and started to flail with all his strength, trying to roll and eventually managing to get his legs underneath him to buck off the large black dog that nearly torn off a large chunk from his right shoulder. The boy crawled away and towards the window, crying openly and whimpering in pain with each draw of breath and movement.

The dog was quickly back on him but the boy flipped onto his back and tried to fend him off with his arms. The dog simply latched onto his left forearm and started rearing its head back and forth causing the boy to be dragged along with his arm. Rivulets of warm blood ran down his arm and began to stain the canines teeth red as the boy ineffectively tried to beat the dog with his right arm. A lucky strike managed to hit the beast’s eye and forced it to let go of his arm. He took the moment to pull his left arm against his chest to protect it even more. He then kicked against the floor in an attempt to get away from the dog, scooting backwards until he felt his back hit the wall.

At this point he saw the only reason the beast hadn’t pounced on him again was because the large man in white and blue uniform was stepping on the metal chain wrapped around its neck. The blonde boy followed the foot up to find the man’s stubbled face grinning as he brought a small wrapped bundle into his view. “You thought you could steal government property, did you boy?” The Marine asked with a malicious glint in his eye. “This isn’t meant for street rats like yourself, it’s for proper people like myself who have actual value in this world.” Each word was bit out and all the boy could do was cry and stare at the package longingly. He could feel blood beginning to pool around his left leg, spread from his shoulder down his back, and the blood from his arm staining his chest.

Despite it all he stared at the bundle with intense focus, trying to think of any possible way to get it. The Marine noticed it and simply tucked it out of view into his shirt and sneered at the boy. “There’s no getting through to animals such as yourself, the best we can do is put you down. Honestly the world will be better without another of you leeches.” As he finished he raised his foot releasing the dog which immediately pounced upon the boy. The blonde did his best to fend off the dog from his seated position but it wasn’t long before the dog had managed to land more bites and scratches on the kid causing him to start losing strength.

The whole time the marine was laughing, enjoying the show and cheering on his dog. This was why he never noticed a new presence slip into the room from the hallway, sidle along the wall, and get behind him. He also didn’t hear the slight sound of a piece of jagged bed frame being picked up from the floor, though he did hear the sudden sound of running footsteps behind him. The marine quickly turned around and saw a lanky brunette boy but by the time he registered that the boy was running he felt a sudden pain and immediately coughed up blood. Looking down a rudimentary stake that looked like it was once a corner of a bed frame was sticking out of his chest. He simply stared in shock as blood poured out of his wound and more blood was forcefully ejected from his mouth despite his body craving oxygen. He sunk to his knees and fell forward which only caused the stake to pass through and out the back of his chest.

The blonde boy had stopped fighting back and was simply being ragdolled, semi-conscious, when he realized that he’d stopped moving and was simply laying on the ground. His lidded blue eyes were unfocused and his thoughts were barely coherent. All he could feel was a coldness creeping in on him despite the sheer pain radiating all over his body and the warm blood sticking to him all over. He blinked and was suddenly sitting against the wall again, a shadow looking back at him. It was making noises but he couldn’t understand them, instead he leaned to the side in an attempt to look past and saw a familiar shadow on the floor in front of him. The boy fell on his side but managed to move his arm in a way that it landed on the floor while pointing at the large shadow.

He blinked again and was greeted to a new rocking sensation, something was beneath his legs and his cheek was pushed against something warm. The world around him changed and he could feel wet pin pricks all over his body. He mumbled something incoherent before blinking again. This time his eyes opened and he was no longer rocking or feeling any tiny lances of ice all over his skin. Before him was a brown wall, he was laying down and staring at a ceiling. The boy turned his head and saw another prone form with light blue hair across from him, the name slipped his mind but the person’s presence felt right. He blinked again.

“Nick. Nick, wake up. I need you to sit up so I can change these.” This time the blonde boy, Nick, woke up to feel someone forcing him into a sitting position. The brunette with a stern face but genuine concern in his eyes was holding dirty wet rags and was supporting him. “Good, now don’t move. I need to clean these.” Nick simply nodded and swayed slightly but stayed sitting and silent. “You fucking idiot. Don’t ever do anything that stupid again.” The brunette, Ced, said angrily as he began wiping away fresh blood from the reopened wounds and wrapping them.

“Is it… Did it work?” Nick mumbled out, struggling to speak due to how dry his mouth was. Ced simply continued wrapping the wounds and ignored the question. Once he was done he pushed Nick back into laying down and patted him gently on the shoulder before looking at the third occupant sleeping on the floor near them. “Yeah, his fever broke after I gave him some of that medicine. Jude will be fine.” Ced said as stood back up from his sitting position on the floor.

“Good. Worth it.” Nick said as he could feel sleep reclaiming him again and drifted back to sleep, dreaming of a world where they never had to steal or kill for a little medicine.

________________________________________________________
Miku E. Sato's Bio | Miku's Stuff |
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