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Snippet #2291807

located in Hallowbrook, Illinois 1925, a part of Torture Circus, one of the many universes on RPG.

Hallowbrook, Illinois 1925



Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Samael Barker Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu
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Ezekiel Felton
22:00 P.M

There was no time for comprehension, just the expression that changed Avalin's visage from a pleasant rush to fright, then the way she pushed herself onto him in a way that made fear spread through his spine. It was disrupted by a crack that came from his wings, the snap of a few hollow bones that made him shut his eyes so tightly that wrinkles appeared on his young face. His lips parted to emit a sound of distress but it was muffled by his hand, and he began to wonder just how much on his side was she after all.

When he opened his eyes he saw spots of block, they blocked pieces of her body, hovering too close, and the heat of embarrassment mingled with the violent pain that caused his hands to shake. He curled his fingers, dug crescent shapes into his palms, willed it to go away. A few broken bones in his wings was nothing to him, he had felt much worse, and soon his vision was clearing, the red on his face growing when Ezekiel realized their compromising position. He glanced away, looked to the crates and heard the approaching footsteps that could belong to anyone, finally given insight as to why she pushed him down in the first place.

The boy shifted, trying to put less pressure on his wings and winced when his nerves brought him inflictions that forced him to bite his tongue. He raised a hand from the ground, took her wrist and pulled her palm away from his lips, and was frozen in place as the gap between them grew even smaller. At this position he could smell her, and she so unlike the people that worked here. She smelt clean underneath the layer of dirt and sweat, while he simply smelt of dirt and nicotine. Ezekiel's eyes narrowed, and he could just barely see the freckles of her eyes, and when his heart jumped he let go of her as if she had burned him.

A rock was lodged in his throat when he noticed that she was protecting him, of all things. Not herself, she hadn't ran off at the first sign of real danger, but her instinct had been to hide him as well. It was all too hot, both from the summer, the proximity, and the conflicting emotions that battled within him because it made him feel what could be considered more dangerous - thoughts that made him want to believe that she could be trusted, that she had only good in mind. He cursed himself for thinking that, it was too naive and he wouldn't fall back into the completely foolish person he once was. He may be a fool, but at least he didn't let himself get swept up in his feelings, didn't hold onto people because it was inevitable that they would eventually betray him - right?

Ezekiel looked away from her, tried to see through one of the spaces between the crates and out to the path, this time his heart was skipping a beat for a different reason. He recognized those boots anywhere, each scuff reminding him of the times he was kicked, or held down by a heel. Of course, it was none other than Mr.Torture, and Avalin must of saved him from a brutal beating because if he was caught trying to escape when he was already on the man's bad side he would be left so bruised that the general public wouldn't be allowed to see him for the rest of their stay. Underneath her he shuttered, holding his breath as minutes past by them like hours. The air was so thick that it felt like he couldn't breath, like his lungs had honey in them that kept them from inflating with oxygen.

Instead of peaking behind the crates that man yelled towards someone he couldn't see, but recognized the names of a couple of men that had been hired to walk through their camp to make sure no one tried anything funny. Most of the time they did nothing but smoke and drink beers and for that he was grateful, because Mr.Torture was angry and shouting and was going to be busy giving them an earful. Ezekiel stayed still, like a statue, the process so perfected from practice that it was eerie and he waited for the ringmasters footfalls to disappear down another path, away from them until his ears heard nothing but silence.

A long exhale escaped from him, a breath he didn't know he had been holding in, and he looked up at her, beaming with an ebullient smile that he was unaccustomed to wearing. The pain existed as nothing but a distant throb now when relief took him over, as now they had a real shot at getting out of here, and maybe for good. "Cash or check?" He flirted, drunk from the epinephrine that invaded his brain, the chemical lessening now and leaving him with false exhaustion and loosened inhibitions. The winged boy chuckled a bit, giddy as he tried to sit up, shaking his had with either amazement or from their dumb luck. "I owe you big time - oh, and you can get off of me now." Ezekiel added, face becoming scarlet when he looked back up, their faces only mere inches apart.