Post by Ansel Roux on Jan 18, 2011 11:02:56 GMT -5
Backstory 1: Terminated
The things I had heard in that coach, the schemes, the abuse, they were enough to rend any soul! I had told the authorities. They looked into the matter and found nothing. Nothing! How many bribes had been given? Or was it that possible for someone to cover her tracks? Now I would have to deal with the consequences. That’s right, me! I slipped into my lady’s study. Most of the books on the shelves had never been read as the layers of dust indicated.
“You were my most trusted servant. I didn’t realize your stupidity was greater.”
Normally she wouldn’t have heard anything more than a “yes milady” from me. However her actions had, in my opinion, broken any bonds of loyalty. “I was not aware honor was called such these days, a lesson my father forgot to mention.” My eyes were steel as I glared at her, clenching my fists to contain my rage, not at her personally, though that played a large part, but at what was happening.
She just laughed, tossing her black locks behind her and giving me a cool grin. “Honor is relative and you know it. Now before you explode you should go, pack your things, and return to your backwoods parents.”
I was fuming inside, but I swallowed and left, happy now to be rid of the dark halls. I was without a job now, and until I had a new one, financial burdens would fall on Garland. I didn’t want to tell my family. They would be proud but hurt at the same time. I couldn’t bare the latter.
Backstory 2: Justice
It was the night of my dismissal and I was walking along the riverbanks. Some boats and street lamps irregularly spaced provided the only light. I had found that, in the past, this section of the city provided a good thinking spot. And so I began to ponder my course of action…
“HELP!”
It was the cry of a man. He sounded weak and I snapped at once into protective mode. I crept around a pile of barrels and fishnets, most definitely unwashed ones. My hand drifted down into my cloak and felt my minuscule crossbow. I took a careful aim and the abuser, a man in his mid forties, salt and pepper hair, carrying a club and beating an elderly, wealthy gentleman.
It was instinct. I aimed the bow right between the man’s shoulder blades. In one shot the man was down, not dead, for I knew I couldn’t bring myself to end a life. The older man was limping away after gathering the coins spilled from his purse.
I grabbed one of the nets and wrapped it around the man. I knotted it tightly and, finding some rope beside a dock, hoisted him up on a crossbeam connecting two buildings. The last thing to do was write beside him, on the wall, the man’s crime and to sign it, THE RED SCORPION.
The things I had heard in that coach, the schemes, the abuse, they were enough to rend any soul! I had told the authorities. They looked into the matter and found nothing. Nothing! How many bribes had been given? Or was it that possible for someone to cover her tracks? Now I would have to deal with the consequences. That’s right, me! I slipped into my lady’s study. Most of the books on the shelves had never been read as the layers of dust indicated.
“You were my most trusted servant. I didn’t realize your stupidity was greater.”
Normally she wouldn’t have heard anything more than a “yes milady” from me. However her actions had, in my opinion, broken any bonds of loyalty. “I was not aware honor was called such these days, a lesson my father forgot to mention.” My eyes were steel as I glared at her, clenching my fists to contain my rage, not at her personally, though that played a large part, but at what was happening.
She just laughed, tossing her black locks behind her and giving me a cool grin. “Honor is relative and you know it. Now before you explode you should go, pack your things, and return to your backwoods parents.”
I was fuming inside, but I swallowed and left, happy now to be rid of the dark halls. I was without a job now, and until I had a new one, financial burdens would fall on Garland. I didn’t want to tell my family. They would be proud but hurt at the same time. I couldn’t bare the latter.
Backstory 2: Justice
It was the night of my dismissal and I was walking along the riverbanks. Some boats and street lamps irregularly spaced provided the only light. I had found that, in the past, this section of the city provided a good thinking spot. And so I began to ponder my course of action…
“HELP!”
It was the cry of a man. He sounded weak and I snapped at once into protective mode. I crept around a pile of barrels and fishnets, most definitely unwashed ones. My hand drifted down into my cloak and felt my minuscule crossbow. I took a careful aim and the abuser, a man in his mid forties, salt and pepper hair, carrying a club and beating an elderly, wealthy gentleman.
It was instinct. I aimed the bow right between the man’s shoulder blades. In one shot the man was down, not dead, for I knew I couldn’t bring myself to end a life. The older man was limping away after gathering the coins spilled from his purse.
I grabbed one of the nets and wrapped it around the man. I knotted it tightly and, finding some rope beside a dock, hoisted him up on a crossbeam connecting two buildings. The last thing to do was write beside him, on the wall, the man’s crime and to sign it, THE RED SCORPION.