the four gryphonmen | bad influence (day 1)

MATTIO
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the four gryphonmen | bad influence (day 1) Jun 21, 2023 14:25:32 GMT -5

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Post by MATTIO on Jun 21, 2023 14:25:32 GMT -5

U L Y S S E S.

I slide down against the arch moments after the strain in Numair's voice fades with an affirmative salute. "I'll be back, friends." But for now, he runs away. Don't ask me how, but as the wisps of unsettling breath subside to four boys standing amongst mountains of supplies, I have not even a bruise on my knuckle. How many people can say that with a pile of loot in their grasp, huh? I lift my fist up towards the rest of the group, a salute toward our victory.

The assortment of medical supplies, food in compact containers, and– of course– the weapons. All for us to claim, and to destroy what we don't need. I bury items in each of my bag's pockets. Medkits, bottles of water tablets. Antidotes to cure venom. With each item stuffed in there, another thing is checked off the mental list. I'm grateful that nobody ran away because gathering all of this stuff naturally just feels like a drag. "We really kicked some ass, huh?" I shout, sifting through the weapons. My axe did what it was supposed to do (make me more threatening than I actually am,) but I think I might prefer something lighter.

Out of nowhere, the shadows capturing the archway burst to light. I turn toward it, my new sword at the ready. Darkness from between the arch forces me back (Rule #18: Don't go near the dark spots! Bad! Boo!)

Heavy footsteps come from the darkness. I whisper to the guys. "I think we might have company."

Table by Rave

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the four gryphonmen | bad influence (day 1) Jun 22, 2023 19:13:51 GMT -5

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Post by Tom on Jun 22, 2023 19:13:51 GMT -5

You will never be enough, Caspian.

The voice in the back of his head speaks with all the venom of his own. Barbs trickling into his skin, piercing the layers of doubt stuck in his his palms. Calloused from all the cleansing he's spent doing his entire life; burning away all the senses to make up for some false hatred of his himself. Destruction in his own palms; the ruin of his own body. Nothing feels quite the same. Hesitation made him weak. He should be dead by now, but instead he stands in a field of rot and roots; entangled by the blood of the innocent. A boy running farther and farther away as the bile wants to rip from his throat; burning with the tinged taste of guilt.

A fist raised in success; there's nothing behind the feeling in his chest, but he tries to muster up a smile. Squeeze his teeth together so tight he can't feel the bruising along his body; slow down the bleeding of his entire soul for just a moment to seem okay. Left behind is everything they could ever need; mountains upon mountains of items that'll make things easier. There's no time to waste as he can feel his chest rising and falling with all the fear. His breath is going shallow as he moves to reach for something only to find his hands shaking with the spear in his grasp. Eyes losing focus on the surroundings around him as his heart is thrumming in his ears. An endless record of his own breath as he drops to his knees for a second, hands splayed out along the decaying root he's found himself residing on.

"We really kicked some ass, huh?" The words leave a dissatisfied taste on his lips as he shakes for a second before steeling himself. Caspian Einfallen's already a broken boy; he can't show them he's weak. Not like this. Eyes peeling forward as he grapples with his breath before sitting back for a moment, pretending he's reaching for some items nearby. Voice shaky as he speaks. "Yeah. We... We did do that." The spear in his hands still runs with the blood of Ten; a reminder of the change he's already made. Death lingering beneath his fingers as he peels himself off the ground and back up.

Shadows dance along the edges of his vision, was his shadow moving? The archway bursts with light; blinding and unnerving. There's a moment where he thinks this will be his punishment for hesitating. Suffering for his own actions. Burning bright light, until it's no longer shining. Heavy footsteps as he looks towards the direction; Ulysses' voice cutting through the air like a knife. Peeling back the fear as he holds the spear out defensively, words cut on the wind.

"W-Who's there? We-We'll uh... kill you."

So much for sounding terrifying.

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the four gryphonmen | bad influence (day 1) Jun 22, 2023 21:08:19 GMT -5

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Post by Python on Jun 22, 2023 21:08:19 GMT -5

{ t o r i a n v i c e }

Torian felt like a fish out of water. He was sticky with blood and perspiration, standing among a mountain of supplies with three guys he had met less than a week ago. By the time the straggler tribute said "I'll be back," Torian had only begun processing the miracle allowing him to stand on his two feet. He might've sustained bruising on his knuckles from punching somebody, but he was otherwise unharmed. Statistics had warned him that this scenario was improbable, yet here he stood with all of the supplies he could possibly need.

"We really kicked some ass, huh?" Ulysses oozed a confidence Torian wanted to absorb and mirror. He knew the fright was written all over his face - he was just a kid, even to these guys. He was surprised they were letting him stick around. "Yeah, that was crazy. Look at all of this stuff!" He feigned excitement. Part of him was still sick after doing what he did to get here, and he should be excited. There were sleeping bags, medical supplies, containers of food, anything a tribute could ever hope for. Everything they said a sponsor would have to send him.

Torian sifted through the useful and the curious. There were oddities like bird skulls and taxidermy butterflies, things he wished he had a microscope for. He snuck them into his bag while the others weren't looking. It shouldn't be a priority to hoard such things, but if he was going to die, he might as well have cool things to look at before he did.

When the stone archway shimmered, he nearly tripped over himself. Four-legged creatures unlike anything he had ever seen before walked through what he thought was a TV screen. "What the-" He should've known this as too good to be true - now the Gamemakers had decided he wasn't worthy, and sent monsters to kill them!

Until one unfurled emerald wings, catching his panicked gaze, and purred at him.

"Um...guys?"

lance
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gay and chaotic? call it gayos

the four gryphonmen | bad influence (day 1) Jun 23, 2023 23:48:31 GMT -5

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Post by lance on Jun 23, 2023 23:48:31 GMT -5

J A Y S O N

The last kid leaves, and you let out a sigh of relief. Fuckin' finally.

Only wait. That can't be the last kid. There has to be someone else around, right? Someone else to fight off so that you can find the boys you'd entrusted with your well being for the moment, so that you can gather your meagre things and flee to fight another day, right?

Only it's silence. Seems the wayward Career really was the last fuck to get outta here. Aside from you and your misfits, huh?

Ulysses shouts a roar of triumph. Caspian mutters a shaky affirmation. Torian attempts to match Ulysses' energy, but even after only knowing the kid for a few days you notice the tremor in his voice, know all too well that celebration for nearly killing a shit ton of kids and escaping isn't really his thing.

You? You're just riding the adrenaline high. The thrill of the hunt will sicken you in a few hours when you settle down in an attempt to sleep, sure, but right now, all you notice is the sting in your eye where some girl managed a lucky shot, the beating of your heart as the utter thrill pumps through your veins like electrified ichor.

You'd never been an adrenaline junkie like some of your flings, mainly out of a lack of interest. Now, belatedly, you realize that they may have had a point. Fuck flirting with men - flirting with death is where it's really at.

It's not until Ulysses shouts again, this time a warning instead of a victory cry, that you realize something's up. You swing around, bloodied axe in hand, as one, two, three, four winged beasties saunter up to you and yours, and where the fuck did they come from how the hell did they sneak up on us-

But then a green-winged one practically nuzzles Torian, and you get it. And when the one with wings laden with sparkling purple gems approaches you, you grin at it in return, reaching your free hand up to pat its beak.

"Fucking dope," you utter, right before it licks you. Like, full on slurps your face. And okay, guilty, it's not the first time you've ever been licked, but it's definitely the strangest.

In a good way though, you decide after a moment.

elegant