(no subject)

[forourqueen.livejournal.com]

When; January 4th, evening
Rating; R for zombieness
Characters; Asshole rogue (forourqueen) and lady in distress (misterblackbird)
Summary; Gabriel has had enough of the ticking. His solution? Kidnap some company.
Log;

Tick-tock. Tick-tock..

Gabriel had always praised himself in taking the Forsaken motto into his shriveled old heart, but after a week of increasingly louder ticking, 'patience' was wearing thin and 'discipline' was going the same way. This was rather shameful for someone used to a rather sinister amount of terrible things in his everyday existence. Adding to that, he was used to remaining still for weeks in one place and tolerating the endless sobbing and crying from the text subjects of the Apothecaries. But ticking? That apparently got to him.

That was why he had spent a couple of days watching the general population, hidden in the shadows and moving in stealth from place to place while taking a few mental notes about the people living in this 'City'. Not all of them were human, and many of them were beings he had never seen before. The variations were staggering, so he had to make up a list of what he desired in a companion.

They had to be male. Gabriel couldn't stand women crying and whining, and there was just something about them that made him angry. They also had to be human, or at least elven. Gabriel didn't trust any of these other creatures, and he knew the anatomy of elves and humans well enough to know how to knock them out... and get rid of them later.

He was ticking off possible targets on his mental list, following a couple of men around for a while to learn their habits and possible abilities - no need to rush head first into friends or a spell, after all. Soon, he had narrowed it down to just one. A fairly inconspicuous fellow that seemed about average in most ways. He was also traveling alone most of the time, which was why he seemed like a perfect target.

So here Gabriel was, waiting in a quiet and empty area. Shifted into the shadows and invisible for the naked eye, the undead man rolled his daggers between his bony fingers while waiting for his target to pass by. He knew that this man took the way home, so it was only a matter of time.

Comments

[misterblackbird.livejournal.com]

Very well, then. His head had missed the wall, fortunately, though he didn't know how close he'd come to it (it was best not to know). He would ask no more questions nor say anything more if he could help it. And any threats against his fingers would, indeed, be carefully observed. He held his tongue. He would be useful, such as he could be, and spend what time he had considering other ways to escape. He would keep silent.

But there had been nothing said about movement. He would try to keep as still as possible--no need to bring on any more threats--but it had since become clear to him that he had not been well checked before he'd been set down and tied up. And, as it happened, his Network device was still in his pocket.

The sound of knives being whetted and sharpened was hardly a pleasant one in such a situation, but perhaps, if his captor was distracted, he could still reach the Network--or, if not now, then soon--and at least make it somehow known what had happened to him. He would have to keep his device safe, as best he could, even with bound hands and a blindfold.

He checked his wry smile before it broke on his face, but the thought still amused him: what would his father think to find that someone else had captured him? What a wretched knot to tie in his plans.

He found his device in his hands now and set to work as carefully as he could sending some kind of message...