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Snippet #2595090

located in The Outlands, a part of Banishment, one of the many universes on RPG.

The Outlands

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Auriel Hawthorne Character Portrait: Echo Character Portrait: Aelia Demetrias Character Portrait: Alastair Helios Character Portrait: Leon Macchia Character Portrait: Leona Inoa
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"ั”ส‹าฝััƒะฒฯƒโˆ‚ัƒ าฝqฯ…ฮฑโ„“ั• ฯƒฯ…ั‚ ฯ‰ะฝาฝฮท ฮฑโ„“โ„“ ั‚ะฝาฝ ั•ฯƒฮทgs ฮฑัาฝ ั•ฯ…ฮทg."
Dialogue Colorโžข#729da1
Thought Colorโžฃ#7db59f

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XXXXXAnd to think it had all started with a pocket watch. A single goddamn pocket watch. Not even a nice one, no. He didn't even have the dignity of knowing, sure, he was going to his death, but at least it was for something valuable. Instead, what he was going to die for was a single, rusted, dented, dingy, worth-nothing pocket watch. He couldn't help but wonder if this was some kind of poetic justice. After all, he'd pulled off better heists than that one for things worth a hell of a lot more. But it's the stupid pocket watch he got busted for? Maybe he's been wrong his whole life. Maybe there was some kind of cosmic force lording over his actions, punishing wrong-doings. But he couldn't see how that would make any sense, considering the greatest thieves of all were rewarded every day of their lives, perched high in the marble mansions, sucking away on their silver spoons.

XXXXXLeon could only sigh softly at his fate--almost in a bored fashion--leaning against the side rail of the corner seat he had chosen and promptly been cuffed to. The ride had been silent for the most part, the other passengers seemingly in a quiet contemplation of their own sorry fates. All except for one girl, just a little thing with strangely colored bright red eyes and silver hair. She was silent for a majority of the ride as well, but likely certainly not in contemplation. Small as she was, the guards hadn't cuffed her to any chair, and Leo watched, bemused, as she scurried about from seat to seat. She reminded him of an excitable child, much like the orphans he knew on the street. As he thought this, his mind couldn't help but wander back to those children. Often, he would steal food for them; he remembered how it felt to starve. He wondered if they would manage to survive without him. He was torn from his reveries by a shout from one of the guards. Glancing up, he saw the strange girl grumbling as she moved back to her seat. He recalled the jarring stop they had come to moments before; she must have fallen. There was silence for a few blissful moments, then a rumbling outside, and a scream inside. Leo winced, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He hated when people screamed. It drew too much attention. The girl only had enough time to ask the man beside her a question before there was more rumbling and, sadly, more screaming. It ceased eventually, and the train was silent once more. Leo took the opportunity to observe the rest of the passengers he was doomed to die with.

XXXXXHe started with the male the young girl had spoken too. He didn't seem too concerned with the going-ons, calmly observing the girl's antics. He couldn't quite pinpoint their relationship, but he settled on a vague care-taker one. After all, the man seemed to be slightly concerned with the girl's screaming, and he spent time correcting her grammar, but at the same time, Leo felt an air of detachment. In fact, everything about the man screamed "distant," from his stark white attire to his cold gaze. But somehow, Leo could tell he was intelligent. He would make a useful ally, but he wasn't sure having the man on his side would be worth having to carry the child along as well. And in this death sentence, he knew he wouldn't have the opportunity to reflect back on his moral choices.

XXXXXHis eyes drifted to a head of dark red hair and the harsh eyes beneath it. The woman he was staring at was beautiful, certainly, and she held herself, even handcuffed to a chair and condemned to death, with poise. Her entire appearance was regal, lovely. But her eyes held his interest. He cocked his head slightly, examining the cold, calculating glances she was throwing about the train. This was the Queen, he knew instantly. The others had gotten trials, but he had none. A mere street urchin, a dirty thief, he hadn't even been granted that right, merely thrown to the wolves. So his crime had occurred much later than the others. And before he had been caught, he heard whispers on the wind of the royal treason.

XXXXXIt stunned him, being in her presence. Not because she was nobility, the Queen, and him a dirty peasant. Not because she was radiant as all the stories told her to be. No, because she was there. Just like him. It astounded him that, at the very least, he was equal in status to her royal highness. So it was true. Everybody equaled out in the end. A mirthless chuckle, nearly soundless, escaped his lips at the thought.

XXXXXFinally, there was one other girl. The first thing his eyes landed on was her hair. Then, they dropped down to her expression. She looked bored, perhaps more bored than him and the white-dressed man combined.

XXXXXBefore he could think any more about the girl's expression, the train came to a halt. Was this it? The oxygen mask being placed around his face told him yes. The tank was threaded through his belt, urgency evident as he was pushed towards the exit. He stepped out eagerly onto the barren land, ignoring the guards and their petty intimidation tactics, glad to be out of the suffocating tin can. As the scorched landscape entered his sight, a smile couldn't stop itself from worming its way across his face. Yes, there was a certain freedom in death.