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eskimolander Member
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- eskimolander 11 yrs ago
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>Bump<
I'm back and ready to roleplay! Rather than driveling on and on about myself, I'm just going to cut to the chase.
1. I'll roleplay any gender combination, but I have a strong preference for MxM. And in MxF roleplays I prefer to play the guy, but this is negotiable.
2. With very few exceptions, I always fade to black when sexy times present themselves in roleplays.
3. I roleplay at a low-advanced level and ask my partner to be about on the same level with me.
4. Communication is key!
>< = Craving
Game of Thrones-esque - Either taking the world and creating our own houses, or inserting our own characters into the current story obviously altering where needed.
Alien - Pretty much any construction of this works. Something Avatar-like, abduction or Area 51 style would be ideal though.
Post-Apocalypse - I have a small penchant for >Walking Dead-style< zombies, nuclear mutants, that type of thing but this can be pretty flexible.
Fantasy - Demons, elves, magic that sort of thing.
>Fandoms< - Harry Potter(CanonxOC, OCxOC), Naruto(CanonxOC only, will double), InuYasha(CanonxOC only, will double), Legend of Zelda(OCxOC only, will double), TES: Skyrim(CanonxOC, OCxOC).
If you're interested please PM me, as I might not notice a new post to this thread!
1. I'll roleplay any gender combination, but I have a strong preference for MxM. And in MxF roleplays I prefer to play the guy, but this is negotiable.
2. With very few exceptions, I always fade to black when sexy times present themselves in roleplays.
3. I roleplay at a low-advanced level and ask my partner to be about on the same level with me.
4. Communication is key!
>< = Craving
Game of Thrones-esque - Either taking the world and creating our own houses, or inserting our own characters into the current story obviously altering where needed.
Alien - Pretty much any construction of this works. Something Avatar-like, abduction or Area 51 style would be ideal though.
Post-Apocalypse - I have a small penchant for >Walking Dead-style< zombies, nuclear mutants, that type of thing but this can be pretty flexible.
Fantasy - Demons, elves, magic that sort of thing.
>Fandoms< - Harry Potter(CanonxOC, OCxOC), Naruto(CanonxOC only, will double), InuYasha(CanonxOC only, will double), Legend of Zelda(OCxOC only, will double), TES: Skyrim(CanonxOC, OCxOC).
If you're interested please PM me, as I might not notice a new post to this thread!
Isaiah rolled his eyes at the man’s excuse. Just a little bit too full of himself that guy was. And Isaiah was quite sure he wasn’t the only one who thought so. Removing himself from the wall Isaiah gave the man a strong knock to shoulder. Half serious and half joking, but not enough force to actually hurt. The force throwing him off kilter for just a moment.
“You know damn well what time it is Demetri,” His voice was laced in annoyance. This was typical Demetri behaviour though. He was a serial killer no doubt about that, but when not on the ‘job’ he was little more than a glorified clown. Isaiah pulled some keys out of his pocket and fumbled with a door that stood only a few feet from where they stood. It was an old piece of wood that showed a significant amount of rock. The once bright oak was now a muddled gray that almost blended in with stone walls around it.
“C’mon y’prick,” Isaiah said has he entered the door. Instantly they were hit with a large plume of haze, partially from smoke, but mostly from the absurd amount of cheap incense that was scattered about. The inner structure of small rooms and hallways faired only a slight better than the outside door. Through the thick haze women could be seen scuttling about, leading men to and fro from the many rooms. Some of them were less discreet though, accepting clients in plain view of others. It was the typical picture of a back road whore house. Quickly they made it to Isaiah’s office in the back of the house, stopping once for him to grab some papers from check in.
“Alright Demetri, let’s talk business,” For the next little while the two men sat and shared information for their future victims. Isaiah would pass on the location of noble clients for Demetri to target, while Demetri would inform of the whereabouts of their widows to sell. It was dirty work, but in their slice of the world, dirty work got you paid.
The next morning, on the other side of the city, a young man fought to stay asleep in his bed. He pulled the covers tightly to his face, relishing in the warmth. His curtains were letting in more light than was really appreciated so early. After only a few short moments a loud clicking on the hardwood floors could be heard from down the hall. Cyrus groaned as he could hear it rapidly approaching his bedroom. Holding his hand out, it was almost immediately greeted with the wet feeling of a dog’s nose. Not satisfied with just a hand the dog, who was an English springer spaniel, turned her attention to her master’s face. Trying to block her with his hands he laughed wildly at intrusion.
“Okay, okay I’m awake!” He managed out between breaths, finally managing to get him off of her. Finally out of bed, the rest of his routine went by quickly. Grabbing his mask, a plain solid silver with thickly lined eyes, he made his leave. Within minutes he had made to the courthouse and took position at the podium that had been set up. Announcers around the city were bellowing for people to make their way to the city center so he could release the list of contenders for the lottery. Once everyone was gathered it took a fair amount of time to quiet them all before he could speak.
“Good morning ladies and gentleman,” He began, observing the varying looks of interest and admiration to contempt and anger. Many people were less than thrilled about losing working hours. Their employers on the other hand were delighted at the prospect. “As you well know it is time yet again for Tarrin to host its lottery,” A few faces perked up at the mention. “The drawing is now complete and it is time to announce the winners,” Suddenly the crowd erupted in mutters, confused over the use of plurals. He waited yet again for the crowd to be silenced, pulling out the list to read in the meantime. Quickly Cyrus tore through the names, only slow enough so the crowd would understand him. When he only had three names left.
“Mr. Isaiah Coldbrooke, Miss Gabriella Vaslyn, and finally Demetri Downes.” Finishing the list he took a deep breath. “Those whose names were called, please meet at the Opera House to receive the rest of your instructions. For the rest of you, information will become available closer to the event.” Finally done with his speech, Cyrus gladly stepped down and headed to work as usual as the rest of the city—except those who were called—did the same.
“You know damn well what time it is Demetri,” His voice was laced in annoyance. This was typical Demetri behaviour though. He was a serial killer no doubt about that, but when not on the ‘job’ he was little more than a glorified clown. Isaiah pulled some keys out of his pocket and fumbled with a door that stood only a few feet from where they stood. It was an old piece of wood that showed a significant amount of rock. The once bright oak was now a muddled gray that almost blended in with stone walls around it.
“C’mon y’prick,” Isaiah said has he entered the door. Instantly they were hit with a large plume of haze, partially from smoke, but mostly from the absurd amount of cheap incense that was scattered about. The inner structure of small rooms and hallways faired only a slight better than the outside door. Through the thick haze women could be seen scuttling about, leading men to and fro from the many rooms. Some of them were less discreet though, accepting clients in plain view of others. It was the typical picture of a back road whore house. Quickly they made it to Isaiah’s office in the back of the house, stopping once for him to grab some papers from check in.
“Alright Demetri, let’s talk business,” For the next little while the two men sat and shared information for their future victims. Isaiah would pass on the location of noble clients for Demetri to target, while Demetri would inform of the whereabouts of their widows to sell. It was dirty work, but in their slice of the world, dirty work got you paid.
The next morning, on the other side of the city, a young man fought to stay asleep in his bed. He pulled the covers tightly to his face, relishing in the warmth. His curtains were letting in more light than was really appreciated so early. After only a few short moments a loud clicking on the hardwood floors could be heard from down the hall. Cyrus groaned as he could hear it rapidly approaching his bedroom. Holding his hand out, it was almost immediately greeted with the wet feeling of a dog’s nose. Not satisfied with just a hand the dog, who was an English springer spaniel, turned her attention to her master’s face. Trying to block her with his hands he laughed wildly at intrusion.
“Okay, okay I’m awake!” He managed out between breaths, finally managing to get him off of her. Finally out of bed, the rest of his routine went by quickly. Grabbing his mask, a plain solid silver with thickly lined eyes, he made his leave. Within minutes he had made to the courthouse and took position at the podium that had been set up. Announcers around the city were bellowing for people to make their way to the city center so he could release the list of contenders for the lottery. Once everyone was gathered it took a fair amount of time to quiet them all before he could speak.
“Good morning ladies and gentleman,” He began, observing the varying looks of interest and admiration to contempt and anger. Many people were less than thrilled about losing working hours. Their employers on the other hand were delighted at the prospect. “As you well know it is time yet again for Tarrin to host its lottery,” A few faces perked up at the mention. “The drawing is now complete and it is time to announce the winners,” Suddenly the crowd erupted in mutters, confused over the use of plurals. He waited yet again for the crowd to be silenced, pulling out the list to read in the meantime. Quickly Cyrus tore through the names, only slow enough so the crowd would understand him. When he only had three names left.
“Mr. Isaiah Coldbrooke, Miss Gabriella Vaslyn, and finally Demetri Downes.” Finishing the list he took a deep breath. “Those whose names were called, please meet at the Opera House to receive the rest of your instructions. For the rest of you, information will become available closer to the event.” Finally done with his speech, Cyrus gladly stepped down and headed to work as usual as the rest of the city—except those who were called—did the same.
With his pistol at the ready Julian made his approach on the barn. The only light available to him were the headlights. This meant that the closer he got to the barn doors, the darker it became. His blood ran colder with every step as he began to regret his decision. The back of his mind kept screaming at him, this is where you die. As if it was a line in a play he kept forgetting. He shook his head, trying to ignore the recurring thought. This wouldn’t be the first time he did something stupid, and he’d be damned if it was the last. By now he was far enough that just about everything in front of him was pitch black. His steps had become more like shuffles, sliding his feet across the grass one by one. Begging that he wouldn’t bump into something. It had only been a few days since he had been this barn with his last group. They had left of their own will and not because of a herd, but he had no idea how quickly it could have filled up.
As he stepped inside the barn, he heard a growl and a lurch. Turning sharply to his left he saw the culprit, one of them had gotten it’s caught on a hook on the wall. With it unable to move he gave it a good whack with the butt of his gun, wincing at the sickening sound it made. With a glance behind him, he waved for Calvin to come further. Silent he went further in holding his gun from the wrong end, ready to hit something with it. At this point he could feel his veins pumping hard beneath his skin.
Continuing forward he slowly made his way across the barn to the other door. Once he was only a few feet away he made a mad dash to close it, tightening the latch.
“I think we’re good,” He was mostly reassuring himself, but it was easily taken as being towards Calvin. “Mind bringing the car closer, so we can see?” Julian asked, significantly less tense than he had been only a few moments ago when driving. Looking around he decided peer inside the pens, once upon a time animals would’ve been kept here, now he’d be likely to find a half rotted body of one. Finally he found the right one, a smaller one that was probably used for chickens before the world ended. There was a small fire pit inside it, the one he had helped build a little less than a week. For some reason, he got the feeling that he was going around in circles as he began searching for something to light it.
@red_massa
As he stepped inside the barn, he heard a growl and a lurch. Turning sharply to his left he saw the culprit, one of them had gotten it’s caught on a hook on the wall. With it unable to move he gave it a good whack with the butt of his gun, wincing at the sickening sound it made. With a glance behind him, he waved for Calvin to come further. Silent he went further in holding his gun from the wrong end, ready to hit something with it. At this point he could feel his veins pumping hard beneath his skin.
Continuing forward he slowly made his way across the barn to the other door. Once he was only a few feet away he made a mad dash to close it, tightening the latch.
“I think we’re good,” He was mostly reassuring himself, but it was easily taken as being towards Calvin. “Mind bringing the car closer, so we can see?” Julian asked, significantly less tense than he had been only a few moments ago when driving. Looking around he decided peer inside the pens, once upon a time animals would’ve been kept here, now he’d be likely to find a half rotted body of one. Finally he found the right one, a smaller one that was probably used for chickens before the world ended. There was a small fire pit inside it, the one he had helped build a little less than a week. For some reason, he got the feeling that he was going around in circles as he began searching for something to light it.
@red_massa
For the next several weeks Isaiah carried on like usual. Get up at the crack of dawn, do whatever work was available to him, check up on his girls. Rinse and repeat. At first he had paid attention to how many days before the drawing. Though by now he had lost track. In fact, he had almost forgotten. He probably would have forgotten completely if there hadn’t been an announcement in the square that it was to be on the next day. The rest of the day Isaiah thought about how great it would feel to win, and then remembering that he had less than no chance of that happening. Today he had managed to get a shop owner to let him sweep, for a small pittance. It was well into the night when the shop closed and his services were no longer wanted. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he accepted the cash and thanked the owner. Having to refrain from mocking the man and his gaudy appearance.
He spent the next twenty minutes navigating the narrow pathways that made up Tarrin’s roads. With the only carts allowed in town being hand-pulled, the streets were designed for walking. They were efficient, though perhaps a little crowded at times. However as far as Isaiah was concerned, this had far less to do with the amount of people that lived in the city, and more to do with how much room it’s residents took. Then there were those like him, who took up so little space that most people didn’t even realise they were there. After a seeming eternity, Isaiah reached his destination: A dark, seedy alleyway that few people went down. Leaning against the wall, he stood and waited for the person he was to meet there.
“You’re late,” He said as the man came around the corner, wearing a mask that covered everything except his chin and the metal stud that sat upon it.
Meanwhile across Tarrin, there was a loud tapping on the marble road. The tapping was the sound of two figures walking side by side. They both were wearing elaborate, brilliantly blue, get-ups. The only discernible difference being the colour of the masks the adorned. The taller one with a silver face, the other-who by his posture seemed to be a fair bit older-a face of gold. Having left the courthouse only a few moments prior, they both seemed quite ready to be at their homes and relax.
“So this is the roster then?” The silver one confirmed, holding a list of 24 names in front of him. The lucky, if that’s what you would call it, souls who would be in the running for the lottery. The other man nodded in a response for a moment his headdress threatened to fall off had his balance not been impeccable. “And I am to announce them at noon tomorrow?” Just from his voice it was easy to tell that this man was fairly young. Early or mid-twenties at most.
“Yes, they should all be about by then,” While you couldn’t see it, a devilish grin could be heard on the man’s voice. “And Cyrus, make sure to tell your brother I want him as the building manager for the event, want to keep a close tabs,” The younger man, apparently called Cyrus, made a sound of compliance before parting ways to his own home where after speaking to his brother he wasted no time getting to bed.
He spent the next twenty minutes navigating the narrow pathways that made up Tarrin’s roads. With the only carts allowed in town being hand-pulled, the streets were designed for walking. They were efficient, though perhaps a little crowded at times. However as far as Isaiah was concerned, this had far less to do with the amount of people that lived in the city, and more to do with how much room it’s residents took. Then there were those like him, who took up so little space that most people didn’t even realise they were there. After a seeming eternity, Isaiah reached his destination: A dark, seedy alleyway that few people went down. Leaning against the wall, he stood and waited for the person he was to meet there.
“You’re late,” He said as the man came around the corner, wearing a mask that covered everything except his chin and the metal stud that sat upon it.
Meanwhile across Tarrin, there was a loud tapping on the marble road. The tapping was the sound of two figures walking side by side. They both were wearing elaborate, brilliantly blue, get-ups. The only discernible difference being the colour of the masks the adorned. The taller one with a silver face, the other-who by his posture seemed to be a fair bit older-a face of gold. Having left the courthouse only a few moments prior, they both seemed quite ready to be at their homes and relax.
“So this is the roster then?” The silver one confirmed, holding a list of 24 names in front of him. The lucky, if that’s what you would call it, souls who would be in the running for the lottery. The other man nodded in a response for a moment his headdress threatened to fall off had his balance not been impeccable. “And I am to announce them at noon tomorrow?” Just from his voice it was easy to tell that this man was fairly young. Early or mid-twenties at most.
“Yes, they should all be about by then,” While you couldn’t see it, a devilish grin could be heard on the man’s voice. “And Cyrus, make sure to tell your brother I want him as the building manager for the event, want to keep a close tabs,” The younger man, apparently called Cyrus, made a sound of compliance before parting ways to his own home where after speaking to his brother he wasted no time getting to bed.
Mesmerised by the horse-riding duo, Esme had stared at them for so long that she had fallen a fair bit behind her father’s army. She couldn’t take her eyes off the pair though. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen foreigners, not by a long shot, but it was definitely the first time she’d seen foreigners from wherever they were from. It was also the first time she had seen people who looked so much like her. Esme had long since noticed the differences between her and the rest of the Tilden children. She was surrounded by people who sported fair coloured skin, eyes and even hair. These two however, much like Esme herself, wore darker olive-coloured skin with black hair. Though Esme was perhaps even a bit darker in her skintone, and unlike them her eyes were nearly black in colour. Still, she watched them in wonder until the disappeared over the horizon. And when she turned around she realised that her father had disappeared in the opposite direction. Panicking she began to run in the last direction she saw them going.
Back at Carsley Keep the entire castle had been thrown into a riot. It hadn’t taken long for Lady Olira to notice that the young girl was missing. It took even less time to get Perienne to reveal the truth. Immediately guards had been sent out in a ten mile radius while everyone inside scoured the grounds. Shouts of “Have you found her?” were being tossed left and right as the panic grew steadily higher. It had been no mystery within the castle that Lord Warreck favoured Esme over his other children, including his only son. So the prospect of her going missing, or worse, was not something anyone inside looked forward to. Least of all his wife and children.
“We should send a message to father,” Teora said, shyly approaching her now frantic mother. Her only response being a look that seemed to question her sanity. “Well,” Her voice wavered, now unsure of herself, “She probably followed him… and he has more people who can look…” She trailed as the look her mother gave her only became increasingly horrified. Realizing that her advice wasn’t entirely welcomed she decided to check in on the guards at the gate, hopefully some news had come in.
As she approached the gate on of the guards held up a hand, stopping her.
“M’lady, there are people requesting an audience,” He spoke quietly so that only she could hear him.
“At a time like this?” She sighed heavily, “I’ll greet them.” By technicality she had no authority to do so, but they didn’t need to know that right now. Turning around the corner she was greeted by a dornish man and woman on horseback. Suddenly she felt very out of place. At only thirteen she wasn’t even an adult, while these two clearly were. Being greeted by a child, she only could wonder how offended they must have been. In an attempt to look older Teora stood straighter and tried to carry herself in a more ‘lady-like’ fashion. “I am Lady Teora, second daughter to Lord Tilden. To what do we owe this visit?” She tried to sound haughty and important, but got the impression that she sounded much more like child playing make believe.
Back at Carsley Keep the entire castle had been thrown into a riot. It hadn’t taken long for Lady Olira to notice that the young girl was missing. It took even less time to get Perienne to reveal the truth. Immediately guards had been sent out in a ten mile radius while everyone inside scoured the grounds. Shouts of “Have you found her?” were being tossed left and right as the panic grew steadily higher. It had been no mystery within the castle that Lord Warreck favoured Esme over his other children, including his only son. So the prospect of her going missing, or worse, was not something anyone inside looked forward to. Least of all his wife and children.
“We should send a message to father,” Teora said, shyly approaching her now frantic mother. Her only response being a look that seemed to question her sanity. “Well,” Her voice wavered, now unsure of herself, “She probably followed him… and he has more people who can look…” She trailed as the look her mother gave her only became increasingly horrified. Realizing that her advice wasn’t entirely welcomed she decided to check in on the guards at the gate, hopefully some news had come in.
As she approached the gate on of the guards held up a hand, stopping her.
“M’lady, there are people requesting an audience,” He spoke quietly so that only she could hear him.
“At a time like this?” She sighed heavily, “I’ll greet them.” By technicality she had no authority to do so, but they didn’t need to know that right now. Turning around the corner she was greeted by a dornish man and woman on horseback. Suddenly she felt very out of place. At only thirteen she wasn’t even an adult, while these two clearly were. Being greeted by a child, she only could wonder how offended they must have been. In an attempt to look older Teora stood straighter and tried to carry herself in a more ‘lady-like’ fashion. “I am Lady Teora, second daughter to Lord Tilden. To what do we owe this visit?” She tried to sound haughty and important, but got the impression that she sounded much more like child playing make believe.
Julian watched the man from the corner of his eye. He was beginning to question if he really was better off with this guy. Since all this started, and even before if he was honest with himself, Julian had depended on safety in numbers. Ever since he was in grade school he had always thought it better to be a part of group. That ideology had proved itself after the dead began to rise. The more eyes you had watching, the harder it was to get caught off guard. And if you still managed to get stuck with a bunch of hungry zombies, you had plenty of distractions. Right now though, Julian was thinking that this Calvin guy would be distracting him instead of the zombies. Not being a talker, Julian was perfectly content driving in silence. That was apparently not the case for Calvin.
“Someone’s a bit passive aggressive,” Julian tutted, having to put in effort to not shake a finger at him. “We’ll get to your kid soon enough, in the meantime we need a place to camp up,” As if on cue Julian released an enormous yawn, slowing to a crawl as it went through his whole body. It was then that he remember it had been almost three days since he had last slept. He had spent the all of last night driving and the night before he had been on guard duty. He could feel his energy stretching itself thin, briefly wondering how bad he looked.
Having a significant amount more difficulty keeping his eyes open, Julian was even more desperate to find somewhere to park for the night. It took several more minutes before they came across a small-sized barn with the doors strewn open. Julian pulled into the drive and turned off the engine. And for a few moments he just sat there, waiting for something to come out. When nothing did, he took his gun from its holster and turned his attention to his passenger.
“We better make sure it’s clear first,” He said holding back yet another yawn. This was getting bad. Opening the door he stepped out and began inching his way towards the open barn, praying that Lady Luck was on his side.
@red_massa
“Someone’s a bit passive aggressive,” Julian tutted, having to put in effort to not shake a finger at him. “We’ll get to your kid soon enough, in the meantime we need a place to camp up,” As if on cue Julian released an enormous yawn, slowing to a crawl as it went through his whole body. It was then that he remember it had been almost three days since he had last slept. He had spent the all of last night driving and the night before he had been on guard duty. He could feel his energy stretching itself thin, briefly wondering how bad he looked.
Having a significant amount more difficulty keeping his eyes open, Julian was even more desperate to find somewhere to park for the night. It took several more minutes before they came across a small-sized barn with the doors strewn open. Julian pulled into the drive and turned off the engine. And for a few moments he just sat there, waiting for something to come out. When nothing did, he took his gun from its holster and turned his attention to his passenger.
“We better make sure it’s clear first,” He said holding back yet another yawn. This was getting bad. Opening the door he stepped out and began inching his way towards the open barn, praying that Lady Luck was on his side.
@red_massa
It was a day like any day. The streets of Tarrin danced in a sea of colour. A thousand bodies moved in a thousand directions. Each costume putting on its own display. One could get dizzy looking at it. The streets held an entire spectrum. Every hue and shade made present on the bodies of Tarrin’s many citizens. Yet, despite the thousands of bodies swaying to and fro, not a single face was to be seen. For to reveal ones face was the ultimate of shame. Though, no one could quite remember why. It was as such that Tarrin’s people took to covering their faces. Mostly with hoods and masks, but most anything would do for those who couldn’t afford such luxuries. Overtime one’s mask became a symbol of their status. And now it ascertained a person’s position in Tarrin’s rigid hierarchy, with the lowest wearing no coverage at all.
Today would not be like any day though. As the sun climbed higher in the sky the sounds of streets grew equally higher. So it was with an eerie atmosphere when the street became silent. Every head turned in the same direction, a few gasps escaped the crowd when they saw what approached. A large group of black shrouds, a large hourglass held by the one in front-center. The leader of Tarrin’s small council came darting from the courthouse, ushering the figures in. No one was to know what happened once inside.
However it was but two days later that Tarrin’s lottery was announced. The first one of its kind in over a hundred years.
In a dark alleyway a mother stood alongside her children. The trios ginger hair stood out against their dirty, tattered clothing. One could scarcely tell dirt from freckle. Her daughter, a girl of only three, wailed and fought her brother’s grip wanting to be earthbound. This only made him hold onto her tighter, it would only take a small crowd for her to go missing. He was use to standing for hours with his sister on his hip. It was their daily routine as his mother would wait for men to partake in her services. Already having two children, she was less than desirable and didn’t fetch a high price. So naturally when a man wearing a golden mask walked through, they had expected to be passed by. With their gazes to the ground they listened as every person on the road clamoured for the attention of the absolute. Yet shockingly the one he whisked away had been his mother.
“Isaiah, stay here until I return.” His mother said in her usual beautiful tone. So he did, and in that same spot he watched as a night passed by. Despite his mother’s instruction, by morning he had decided it best to return home. Turning the corner that led to the small tent his family shared he was met with a horrific site. Dropping both his jaw and sister, he fought back the tears and rage that came with seeing his mother’s crumpled body at his feet.
That was where the nightmare ended. As it always had. With a cold sweat Isaiah sat up in his bed, which was a wooden palette covered in cloth. At twenty-seven he had been plagued by reliving his mother’s last moments every night for fifteen years. On the way up from his bed each of his joints made a sickening noise, like one would expect from an old man. Quickly getting dressed he headed to the marketplace of Tarrin to pick up whatever work was available before dawn.
It was there he heard people talking about the lottery. Curious he asked everyone he saw, before finally getting an answer.
“Can’t you read?” The man he questioned said gruffly.
The woman next to him giggled, “Probably not Frederick, look at him.” She whispered something into her partner’s ear before turning back to Isaiah, “It’s a contest to win a sixteen million creds. Anyone can enter.” She pulled a piece of paper from her bosom and handed to him before continuing on with her husband. Isaiah‘s mind swam for moment at the concept. That would be enough to send his sister to college, with a little left over to buy an apartment slot. After pestering a few more people to assist him in filling out the application, he wasted no time submitting the slip and prayed that his name be drawn.
Today would not be like any day though. As the sun climbed higher in the sky the sounds of streets grew equally higher. So it was with an eerie atmosphere when the street became silent. Every head turned in the same direction, a few gasps escaped the crowd when they saw what approached. A large group of black shrouds, a large hourglass held by the one in front-center. The leader of Tarrin’s small council came darting from the courthouse, ushering the figures in. No one was to know what happened once inside.
However it was but two days later that Tarrin’s lottery was announced. The first one of its kind in over a hundred years.
In a dark alleyway a mother stood alongside her children. The trios ginger hair stood out against their dirty, tattered clothing. One could scarcely tell dirt from freckle. Her daughter, a girl of only three, wailed and fought her brother’s grip wanting to be earthbound. This only made him hold onto her tighter, it would only take a small crowd for her to go missing. He was use to standing for hours with his sister on his hip. It was their daily routine as his mother would wait for men to partake in her services. Already having two children, she was less than desirable and didn’t fetch a high price. So naturally when a man wearing a golden mask walked through, they had expected to be passed by. With their gazes to the ground they listened as every person on the road clamoured for the attention of the absolute. Yet shockingly the one he whisked away had been his mother.
“Isaiah, stay here until I return.” His mother said in her usual beautiful tone. So he did, and in that same spot he watched as a night passed by. Despite his mother’s instruction, by morning he had decided it best to return home. Turning the corner that led to the small tent his family shared he was met with a horrific site. Dropping both his jaw and sister, he fought back the tears and rage that came with seeing his mother’s crumpled body at his feet.
That was where the nightmare ended. As it always had. With a cold sweat Isaiah sat up in his bed, which was a wooden palette covered in cloth. At twenty-seven he had been plagued by reliving his mother’s last moments every night for fifteen years. On the way up from his bed each of his joints made a sickening noise, like one would expect from an old man. Quickly getting dressed he headed to the marketplace of Tarrin to pick up whatever work was available before dawn.
It was there he heard people talking about the lottery. Curious he asked everyone he saw, before finally getting an answer.
“Can’t you read?” The man he questioned said gruffly.
The woman next to him giggled, “Probably not Frederick, look at him.” She whispered something into her partner’s ear before turning back to Isaiah, “It’s a contest to win a sixteen million creds. Anyone can enter.” She pulled a piece of paper from her bosom and handed to him before continuing on with her husband. Isaiah‘s mind swam for moment at the concept. That would be enough to send his sister to college, with a little left over to buy an apartment slot. After pestering a few more people to assist him in filling out the application, he wasted no time submitting the slip and prayed that his name be drawn.
This between VerusEbullio and myself.
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