Rogue Sloth

Amnesia [Suki & Summer]

Yeah, she might be stuck there for a bit, since Cas will have to recover a little before he can do anything.

Amnesia [Suki & Summer]

Distantly, Cas heard Ethan call him pathetic, but he didn’t have any thoughts left to spare to process the mockery. All he could think about was how much pain he was in and hope that the rebel would put him out of his misery with another shot to the head or chest. He’d thought he would be more prepared to handle being tortured, but he understood now why Aspirian soldiers were trained for the experience beforehand. Having his bones broken and his leg shot had practically shattered his will in the span of about ten or fifteen minutes. He was still determined to take the crown’s secrets to his grave, but now he actually wanted to die. To go on living seemed too excruciating to endure.

Squeezing his eyes shut as another wave of agony swept him up in its relentless grasp, he was tempted to let go and pass out. His head felt muddled anyway, and he couldn’t move. Every muscle was taut as he strained against the fire that burned in the worst of his injuries. Whatever was left of his will to live beckoned him to hold on though. Even though unconsciousness would be sweet relief from the misery, there was something foreboding about the prospect of allowing himself to fade. He was too concerned that he wouldn’t wake up again.

When the rebel toed him with his shoe, Cas groaned, his head lolling on the concrete. He didn’t have the strength to shift on the floor, let alone try to get away from Ethan. The hand that was still placed on his leg felt hot and sticky with his own blood, a warning that he was going to bleed out if he didn’t have treatment soon. He could hear voices in the room with him, but when he opened his eyes, he wasn’t able to focus his vision well enough to figure out what was going on. All he knew was that there were more men with him now, none who seemed familiar, and that Ethan was walking away.

For a brief moment, he felt confused. He’d thought the new rebel leader was going to finish him off, but instead, he felt more hands on his body. Someone was touching his leg and pulling his hand away from the bullet wound. The prince moaned and tried to pull back, pained by the stranger’s rough prodding, but someone else knelt down by his torso to hold him down, preventing him from moving. Disoriented and too weak to fight the second person off, he couldn’t do anything but lay on the ground and howl as the first man coarsely tended and bandaged his freely bleeding thigh.

Stabbing pain scorched through his body, sapping away what was left of his strength until he felt darkness encroaching on his consciousness. As hard as he had tried to keep himself awake, he couldn’t push back against the urge to pass out forever.

As the rebels finished up their work and began maneuvering his battered body to lift off the ground, the combination of the jostling of his wounded ribs, wrist and leg became too much for him to endure, and he finally lost the battle, falling limp in their arms.

Amnesia [Suki & Summer]

Same! Cas and Iris are going to completely reverse roles.

Amnesia [Suki & Summer]

Sure! I don't think I have much else I can write from Cas's POV right now anyway, haha. The next day will be a lot more eventful :)

How do YOU do 1x1s?

<Snipped quote by Ruby>

Finding people that meshes? I disagree tbh from experience.

@rebornfan320

What has your experience been? Did you mean that you think anyone can mesh or something different?

Amnesia [Suki & Summer]

That makes sense, since the gunshots would be loud.
Cas definitely hit his limit with how much torture he can take too ^^; Iris might have a hard time getting him to move at first when they need to run. I also see the border patrol freaking out when they get there and calling for an ambulance to take him to the hospital, because he'll have to have the broken bones treated and the bullet surgically removed from his leg

Amnesia [Suki & Summer]

The more Caspian’s temper flared, the more Ethan’s words got under his skin. Driving his fist forward with as much force as he could muster, he craved to wipe the smug grin off the rebel’s face. To hell with respectability and to hell with being the better man. He was sick of being the “nice guy.” Look where that had gotten him, locked up in a rebel cell with the man who was most likely going to take his life the instant he realized he wasn’t going to get any information out of him. When he’d been backed against a wall, the only thing he had left was his will to fight and to survive for a few minutes longer.

Swallowing his kind heart in anger, he felt a twinge of satisfaction when he saw the droplets of blood that stained the other man’s white shirt after his first punch. He seemed to have gotten to the rebel too as Ethan hissed at him, revealing his own frustration underneath the layer of cockiness he wore on his face. It was only a fraction of what he deserved for terrorizing him and Iris, but it was better than nothing. He hoped it hurt him as much as it looked like it did.

Provoked by the rebel’s jeer of calling him a dog, Cas swung again, only to blink in surprise when he felt Ethan’s hand catch hold of his wrist. His opponent was faster than he’d thought. He shifted his weight to pull back but then faltered when the rebel bore down on the limb with unexpected strength. Biting down hard on his lip to stifle a cry of pain, he pulled back to get away from him and raised his other arm to throw a punch. Ethan was much faster though, wrenching his captured wrist downward toward the floor. The jarring motion put even more strain on his bones until a crack could be heard, and the prince let out an agonized howl, dropping to the ground and clutching his forearm as he stared in shock at the broken limb.

Expecting to be tortured and actually enduring the hell of it were two entirely different things. Through the adrenaline, he hadn’t felt the full pain of having his wrist snapped in half, but it was still horrifying to see his own hand bent at an unnatural angle, quickly swelling at its mangled joint. He didn’t have time to process it either, as the rebel was now standing over him with his gun aimed at his chest.

Looking up at him, Cas felt lightheaded as the whole of everything began to overwhelm him. He was going to die. He’d never expressly feared his own demise, but now that he was staring down the barrel of a gun, the reality gripped him fiercely, and he trembled, unsure whether he should close his eyes or keep them open, so he could prepare himself for the bullet that would pierce his heart. Either way, cold terror washed over him as the rebel squeezed the trigger, and he turned his head away, waiting for the lethal blow.

The deafening bang of the weapon ensued, but instead of feeling his heart burst from the impact, the prince was taken aback by an explosion of agony that blossomed in his thigh. He screamed and grasped his leg with his good hand, tears streaming uncontrollably as he watched blood well up and begin to pour from the bullet hole. Even Regis’s knife hadn’t hurt this intensely. He found himself wishing that Ethan had just shot him in the heart instead.

“You psychopath!” he yelled at the rebel, gritting his teeth as the torment of his injuries wracked his body. “Just kill me and be done with it!” almost as soon as the words left his mouth, he groaned and gasped for air. Every part of him hurt so much that he could no longer tell where the pain was coming from. His broken ribs sent shooting pains through his chest, his broken wrist did the same at the end of his arm, and the bullet lodged in his thigh was so agonizing that it almost felt like it was poisoning him. His vision was spotty with black and red, and he couldn’t move from where he laid on the floor.

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness crashed over him, and his head dropped to the concrete. Overwhelmed with pain, it was difficult for him to stay awake, and he panted raggedly, fighting the urge to pass out. He wished he could see Iris again, to find comfort in her presence one more time before Ethan killed him, but he couldn’t even sit upright. All he could do was lay in his misery and hope the rebel would finish him off before he went into shock from his wounds.

How do YOU do 1x1s?

I roleplay exclusively in the 1x1 section and absolutely have a blast with all of my partners. We write player/player, long term stories (that's the key word there) and come up with all sorts of fun things. I got my start in RP with group settings but learned quickly that most of those don't last long enough to get into the juicy parts of a plot, so I switched to 1x1s because my personal preference is long, drawn out stories that go on for years. Out of the six partners I currently have, the newest ones are still people I started writing with about 8-9 months ago. One of my conditions for writing is that I only do long-term stories, and this year, I happened to have great luck finding like-minded people who haven't dropped any of our RPs. ^^ I enjoy 1x1s because I find it easier to plot and communicate with just one other person rather than try to manage an entire group. Also, it gives me the freedom to control lots of characters besides my MC, which is entertaining to me because I write novella style (500-1500 word average).

Tldr; My 1x1s are player/player, long-term stories in novella style

Amnesia [Suki & Summer]

No worries! Cas is at the end of his rope, so he fought back

Amnesia [Suki & Summer]

‘Civil,’ my ass, Caspian though scathingly as Ethan continued to try to persuade him to give up the crown’s secrets. It seemed like the rebel was just as stubborn as he was. Waiting for the sound of the gunshot was torturous in and of itself, but he stood his ground, unwavering in his decision to take everything he knew about the monarchy and the military to his grave. Ethan was wasting his time by trying to scare him into talking. Perhaps if he’d had even a sliver of hope that he would come out of this prison alive, he would have been more careful to avoid provoking him into doing something rash; but with no expectations that he would survive, he was uncharacteristically obstinate. He just hoped the rebel had a good enough aim to kill him quickly, so he wouldn’t suffer for too long before his life was snuffed out.

When the loud crack of the gun finally sounded, the prince felt his blood pressure drop dangerously with a spike in fear. For half a second, he worried that he’d just drawn his last breath, but instead, the bullet ricocheted off the concrete floor beneath his feet. The rebel was still trying to wring information out of him. He felt weak with relief and swayed slightly, unbalanced as he fought to regather his composure. The feeling was premature though, as Ethan immediately chased the first shot by lunging at him with his fist cocked back to swing.

Stumbling to get out of the way, Cas wasn’t as prepared for the attack as he had been the first time. The rebel’s hand grazed his side as he reeled backwards, inadvertently throwing his weight too far just before Ethan struck again. His breath caught in his throat as he realized too late that he couldn’t move fast enough. In the next moment, he felt pain explode across his jaw, and stars danced in his vision when his fist made contact. Already unstable before the impact, he staggered and fell on his rear. Hitting the floor jarred his ribs, and he choked on his own breath, but he didn’t have time to recover before the rebel was upon him again.

His adrenaline surged, and he rolled out of the way before Ethan could land another punch, climbing ungracefully to his feet. If he wanted to fight back, this was most likely the only chance he would get. Tasting blood—the cut inside his cheek had reopened with the rebel’s last hit—he let out a feral holler and fell on Ethan with a punch of his own aimed for the other man’s face. He was sick and tired of letting Iris’s ex throw his weight around like he was better than him, like he knew her better than he did. He was too arrogant for his own good, and the prince was going to put him in his place before he died.

“Fuck off!” he snarled as his own fist connected with Ethan’s jaw, any semblance of dignity forgotten in the heat of the fight. He knew that if his father had seen him behaving like a bruiser rather than a respectable royal, he would have been appalled, but there was no room for etiquette when he was going to be killed. He wasn’t going to play the rebel’s degrading games, and he wasn’t going to lay down and let him walk all over him. Determined to hold his own, he coiled back his arm to deliver another blow to the other man’s head.