UnForgiven (RP)

Why had he allowed them to go this far?
Why?
Gone were the days of ordinary life...
He had let them end the peace, end it all, and now he was laying in a cell, torturing himself with a mental quandary.
Where had it gone wrong?
Maybe it had been when he had agreed to the experiment, when he had offered himself up for the greater good, as they said.
Maybe it had started when they had discovered his uniqueness, the ability to conjure...
No...
Musn't think about it...
He leaned back against the cold stone wall, basking in the darkness of the cell. No window stood out to offer a sliver of light or a splinter of hope. The place stank of excretement, morbid fears, general pain...
Footsteps tapped outside the heavy metal door and it opened, bright light falling on dim eyes that closed against it.
"You still alive?" The guard's voice was laden with disbelief. They hadn't expected him to live past the previous night's torture.
The teenager remembered them well. Cold metal blades running across his skin; heated oil dropping, dropping onto the tender parts of his arms, his legs; and ice sliding down slowly to hold in the uncomfort.
He nodded slowly, watching the AK47 in the guard's hand fearfully.
The guard scoffed, "Well, you won't be alive tomorrow! You're out to be beheaded! Orders from the King!" He smiled cruelly, but let some curiousity peek through, "Just what did you do?"
The teenager turned from the light, holding his head in his hands.
The guard sighed and slammed the door, cutting off that one spear of hope.
The teen sobbed. What had he done to deserve this? What had he...?
No...
Mustn't think about it...
He groaned as he pulled himself over to the dank straw the guards had put in for him, the straw infested with lice and spiders, but he didn't care. It was comfort, and that was what he needed right now.
He lay down, letting tears wash away the thin coat of dirt that stained his cheeks.
How long had he been here?
A year now?
Eyes growing accustom to the dark, he brought a hand up to wipe a spider off his face.
Had he changed?
Did he look different?
He couldn't tell colors anymore, because, frankly, he didn't care. The dark didn't show them, so why bother?
He stared up at the cell's sky, a hard ceiling that rained down pebbles so often. Letting his mind wander, it came back to the thought he had been dreading.
Couldn't he just escape with the Seven's help?
He shook his head violently, hating himself for the thought. No way he could use their help! They were the reason he was different! Rejected!
A freak!
A monster!
He sighed and gave himself up to sleep. At least his secret would die with him tomorrow.
_____________________________________________________
(ooc: Will continue once I get back from somewhere. Feel free to join if you want to!)

He awoke in a fit of coughing, feeling his lungs struggle for air. Gasping for breath, he felt a low sorrow as he remembered.
Today was his execution.
As if on cue, the door ripped open, revealing the guard from the day before and two grossly huge brutes that would have made anyone feel rather small.
The guard sneered as he pulled a card from his pocket, "Mark Rossay, you have no rights reserved due to your treachery. As direct order from the King, you will be beheaded," Waving his hand and depositing the card back into his pocket, the guard smiled, "And yada, yada, let's just go and do it."
The two goliaths stomped forward, roughly grabbing Mark's arms and throwing him before the guard, who seemed to obviously lead them.
Mark was on his hands and knees, but he didn't care about the scrapes anymore than he would have cared for a spider. Instead, his eyes were trained on his dirty, white and scarred skin, trying to remember what colors he would need to make it again.
The guard kicked him, sending him down on his side, "Ready to die, maggot?"
Mark had no strength to call up hatred for his persecuter, but he didn't care.
Just as long as...
The guard swung his AK47 out in a unprovoked fury, bringing it bashing down onto Mark's head, "Answer me!"
Mark blinked as the pain numbed his skull, as blood trickled down from a hidden cut under his jet-black hair, "Y...Yes..."
Another kick, "Sir!"
"Y-yes... sir..."
The guard's grin reminded Mark much of a predator's, sharp, white teeth mashed together in a more threatening than friendly gesture, "Take him."
The two others hefted him up and trooped him down the torch-lit hall of Prison 1-70, following the guard who carried himself like an officer.
Mark surrendered himself to his fate. He didn't care. He had lost everything. His mom, dead by pneumonia; Jolie, the girl across the street he had loved, now buried in some garden; his older brother Sam, gone off in the war...
He remembered fondly the last time Sam had talked to him. They had been standing on a grassy knoll outside the city, watching the King's army with growing excitement.
"I'll think I'll go join, Mark. You know, fight for our country! Keep the enemy out!"
He had thought the idea wonderful, "I'll go with you!"
Sam had ruffled his hair, "Must be seventeen to join, weirdo! You got one more year to go!"
...
That had been three years ago.
And Sam had never come back.
Why should he? He was out there serving his country. All he had back here was an imprisoned brother with a freakish secret, a dead fiance', and a buried mother.
Why would anyone want to go back to that?
"Halt! Who goes there!"
The sudden command brought Mark out of his memories and thoughts. The guard bristled in front of them, barking at some figure in the shadow, "Identify yourself!"
The figure laughed, a cold, harsh noise, "You really want to know?"
Mark stiffened. He could recognize that voice anywhere! But... how? He hadn't brought him out...
The guard, none the wiser, stepped forward, cocking his submachine gun, "You have till the count of three! One! Two!..."
"Three." The figure finished the sentence for the guard, and a long black whip snapped through the air and circled around the guard's gun. With a quick jerk, the gun skittered across the floor, leaving the guard gaping at his empty hands.
Mark knew what would come next and groaned.
An introduction. This one just couldn't resist...
The shadow stepped forward into the torch light and Mark felt the air grow colder with fear and surprise from the three escorting him to his death.
Six foot something, the figure was a very picture of a freak. Ragged pants covered the lower half of its body, at least, until it collided with the metal studded boots it wore. A spider-web of chains crossed its chest and slithered down the length of its right arm. A cuff on the left arm balanced the image. Long claws on each gray skinned hand just added to the nightmare.
The face was featureless, detailess. No eyes, nose, mouth. Just black shadows covering the right side of this monster's face.
The guard stammered, "What... what the heck are you?"
The figure crossed his arms and let the unseen smirk carry over to his voice, "My name is Lust and I'm a Sin. Now..." He stepped forward, cradling his whip in his hand, "Give me the boy."
The guard pulled a sword from his waist, unsure of himself but remaining dutiful, "This maggot is headed to his execution! I cannot let you have him!"
Mark groaned, not believing what was happening. The guard was an idiot. He'd be surprised if...
Lust cocked his head, "Oh, really? You will not let me take him?" Lust unfurled his whip, and, in a stroke too quick for the eyes to follow, the tough leather had scoured a bloody gash across the guard's cheek.
The guard dropped his sword, bringing up his hands to grab his cheek, and he screamed, "You sick-!"
Lust didn't hesitate. Lunging forward, he wrapped the whip once around the guard's neck and tightened the noose. As the guard struggled, the two carrying Mark dropped him and surged forward to help their leader.
Lust saw them coming and snickered. Jerking the guard's head around, he cast the corpse aside after there was a loud CRACK! of vertebrae snapping. Grabbing up the guard's discarded sword, he eagerly leaped forward to meet the coming threat.
Mark watched as his imagination creature slew the humans, watched as Lust throw down the sword in disgust, watched as Lust turned towards him.
Smirking, Lust crooked a finger, "Come here, Mark."
Mark stumbled up, not daring to disobey after his monster's display of ruthlessness. Taking tentative steps forward, he meekly placed himself before Lust.
Lust regarded him, taking in the dirt that covered Mark, the black bruises that betrayed his hurting body, and the torn, raggedy clothes that hung over a starving frame. Sighing, Lust asked, "They haven't hurt you?"
Mark shook his head sullenly.
Next second, he was on the ground with a bleeding nose, a furious Lust hovering above him like a angry thunderstorm, "Don't you ever lock us out again! I only got through when you were distracted by the pain, and, if that freakin' guard hadn't hit you, you'd be swinging by your neck at the gallows!"
Mark could only whimper around his bloody nose.
Lust grabbed his arm and jerked him up, "Come on! The executioner is bound to get curious if you're gone for too long." With that, he started dragging Mark down the hallway.
Mark could only think, ' Why me? Why, dear God, me?
One of his Sins was dragging him away to who-knew-where, and he had absolutely no power over it...

OOC: I really want to do this with somebody else and not just post a whole random fiction on here.
To give you guys an idea, here are some characters.
The 7 Sins:
Pride
Gluttony
Lust
Envy
Sloth
Wrath
Greed
There's the main character, Mark.
Sam, Mark's older brother.
Countless bad guys, if you want to be one of them.
^_^

So I can be my own bad guy. None of the guys you just listed?

OF COURSE~!
That's the whole point of a roleplay! For a person to make their own character and blah, blah, blah around with them...
I was just giving out a few ideas *Laughs* since no one seemed to be replying...

(OOC okay than)

He stood looking down at all of the skiers, he had a want to kill again... but too many people were watching, if he did kill than there would be witnesses. He thought for a minute as he walked behind a group of people Thats it! He silently pushed one of the people down. the person fell, and kept falling as Wrath pretended to look shoked There, My quota is filled for today. He ran off to his home, pretending to call the hospital. He sat down and turned on the TV "Perfect."

Ooc: Mark and Lust somewhere else.
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Gluttony hesitated as he paced past the door for the thousandth time, half-furious that he hadn't been able to slip through in that one moment of their master's pain. He sullenly reached out to try the knob, but the round ball disappeared, appearing up near the ceiling.
He glared at it, and turned, fuming.
Darn it!
Mark wouldn't give him an opening!
He glanced up once more, a new thought crossing his mind.
He hadn't done it for a while, but he could go through the good old rough-and-bustin' way...
Clenching his fingers into claws, he drew a finger through the air, and a golden portal slid down like a tear in the cloth of time and space.
Gluttony stared into the golden whirls, feeling himself grow dizzier and dizzier.
It was going to be worst than he thought, but pain begat pain, and he needed a bit to remind himself just exactly what he was...
What was he exactly?
He turned from the rift for a moment, pondering this.
He wasn't a human, nor an angel, nor a demon. He wasn't a monster, or heartless, or mindless...
He had sin though.
Heck! He was Sin!
Maybe...
That last thought had brought round the grim reminder of the human world.
While he was out there, they were under his influence...
And that never boded well for him as well.
Turning back to the portal, he paused, gathering his quick-fading courage.
He took one last swallow of air and stepped into the light, wincing.
This was going to hurt.

OOC:
You can be more people if you want... And don't be afraid to kill people.
I'm planning a big, big murder soon!
^_^
Cheers from the asylum...
(Oh... and I only get a few days per month on the computer here, since the workers think it's bad for my mind, so be patient. I'm doing my best here against all these little blue pills and red pills and God knows what kind of medication.
Love you crazy!)

{Later that Night, where Wrath is located)

Police helicopters and medical helicopters finally arrived, the first person the police interviewed was Wrath. "Well I may have filled my quota for the day but some extras are okay." He said to himself as the helicopters landed.

He had a device to shoot explosives anywhere he wanted. Sometimes people would come for the thrill of danger so he would cause avalanches at their requests. It was also the perfect killing tool. He used it and shot an explosive under the helicopter.

Two of the police officers arrived at his doorstep and motioned to knock on his door. Before their hands made contact with the wood the door came open. "Some in officers." Wrath's voice softly spoke "This isn't the first time I have been mistaken for killing somebody on this mountain." He said as the officers entered his house.

Their helicopter was equipt with bomb detecting sonars and radars. The pilot noticed that he was sitting on a bomb and tried to radio in to the officers on foot that there was a bomb. He didn't succeed. Once Wrath ran into this same problem and almost died. So he set up a tower to disrupt all radio signals.

The helicopter got into the air "Where the hell is he going?" One officer said as he peered out the window. Wrath had the trigger for the explosive in his back pocket and he leaned against a wall, setting off the bomb underneath the helicopter "Looks like you had a suicide bomber in your force." Wrath said hastily as he thought of an excuse.

"My radio tower acts as something that trips bombs. Which I hold in lead casings so I dont explode." Wrath said as he adjusted himself as an angered look slowly made its way on his face. He interrupted the police officers "Sometimes I get 'exclusive clients' who come for a thrill so I put an explosive on the mountain and give them a 5 second head start. They know the dangers so I make them sign contracts." He haded over to a file cabnit as a more pleased look came across his face "Go ahead and check the files."

After a while the police officers had finished and believed what Wrath had said. Wrath walked outside with them and presented them with some snowmobiles to get down the mountain. 2 for 2 today, I wonder how much tomorrow. he thought to himself as he reentered his house and turned on his TV.

((OOC: Can I be a part of your big killing spree?))

ooc: Sure.
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Gluttony slowly let his eyes adjust to the dark, anxious to find his protege', the Mark boy.
Last, he had been in a cell at - what was it? - Prison 9-61 in Britain...
He glanced out from the top of a snow-covered mountain, of all things.
Cursing, he turned, looking for any signs of civilization.
Civilization meant communication, which meant transport, which finally turned to...
Finding Mark Rossay.
He picked up a handful of snow and let it dissolve into his mouth, trying to clear his thoughts as he surveyed a stately home just behind the rise.
Then, he heard engines.
Smirking, he silently sidestepped to be behind a tree, and spied as two police officers in large fur parkas vroomed their way over the hill and down.
They were going to come past him...
They did, but didn't see him.
Gluttony sneered as he watched them retreat down the mountain.
Fine.
Now it was time to see if the person in the house had anything he could use.

A group of kids came up asking about what happened to the police copter, Wrath just told it off as the police copter had a terrorist hidden in it. He went back into his house and than some school journalist came. He was getting angered and told the jurnalist that there was a Nazi in the copter and to leave him anonymus.

Gluttony silently slid into the house through a window, grimacing.
He felt something, but couldn't place what. He stalked forward.

"Who the Hell are you jackass!" Wrath Shouted as he approached Gluttony with his sword "If you don't get out now you shall see why they call me WRATH!!"

Gluttony raised his hands, showing he had no weapon but his mouths, "Don't you remember me, Wrath? It's Gluttony. Old time pal from Hell?"

He put down his sword "Ha ha ha! You haven't gotten any smarter have you? I could probably slice you in half."

Gluttony scowled, "And this is from the one who blows up people at the least provocation." He huffed and shrugged, "Have any idea where the others are? You know..."
Pausing, he glanced around and grimly crossed his arms, "Haven't been living clean, have you?"

"No not really. It gives grounds for me not being able to kill anybody, because than my lawyers could say that I couldn't find a weapon. The blowing people up without provocation is the Avalanche which I make them sign a contract saying that I am not liable for their deaths. Besides, my name is wrath, Which means destruction, death, and pain."

"As mine in Gluttony, but you already know that..." Gluttony glanced about, took a deep breath, and sat, "Do you know of the Mark boy? You know... our protege'?"
___________________________
OOC: What did happen to Mark and Lust.... Hmm... Maybe I ate them...

"eeh, no. I dont even remember him. In fact I don't think I have even killed anybody named mark."

Glowering at his old comrade, Gluttony hissed, "We're not supposed to kill him, moron!"