#ofprivation

a blaring siren would be better than the noise in his mind. it rips him apart inside, begging for a cure. it's pristine and sharp, like the edge of a knife newly sharpened and ready for slaughter. he feels as though he's been THROWN to the wolves, picked by random selection. or perhaps this was his own personal hell, chosen by something or someone bigger than him, urging him to live a more FULFILLING life for once. but ronan refuses, opting to ignore it all.

it's with that, a sudden feeling of nausea plagues him, and he's bending over, releasing this afternoon's lunch onto the sidewalk before him. ❛ shit.. ❜ he mumbles out, the palms of his hands resting harshly on his knees. he lifts his eyes to scan his surroundings now, a pang of HUMILIATION coursing through him, feeling like a load of bricks inside his chest. ❛ sorry you had to see that. ❜

currently, she’s rummaging through  the closet of a woman she can only imagine must  own  the house because it’s--  exquisite.  what possessed her to break in through the  second story window  continues to be a mystery -- it’s just one of the  quirks of anne. pulling a beautiful, red cocktail dress from the closet, she holds it up by the hanger, hand smoothing over the back of it.   ❝  red velvet? -- if only it was  cake, ❞  she speaks to herself  (  it never hurts as long as you don’t answer yourself...  ),  lips coming to a pucker as she muses, thinking over her options. truthfully, she wouldn’t be caught  dead  in this thing. she cleans up well, it’s just that she doesn’t  want  to clean up ; her red shirt that’s tied off to the side shows just enough tummy, and it goes along with her blue jeans and boots. it’s more  her style.

quiet is something cruel,  it isn’t something to be  enjoyed. those who attack in these woods aren’t loud, they don’t run full force at you with a blade in hand and shouts to echo. they’re in the trees, in the bushes, in the  water...  -- they’re seasoned hunters and warriors, and if they want you dead then  so be it  --  you  will  be dead. where there is one, there is  all, and when one is shook loose they all come out, scattering like cockroaches. 

but this stranger, the one he sees wandering like a lost  dog,  he isn’t experienced. he’s careless, moving along the land like it’s his  home, like anywhere on the earth can be considered safe. crouched down behind a tree among the camouflage of foliage, brown eyes catch glimpse of a wild  beast, jet black in color. what possesses him to even  think  about protecting someone from skaikru is sheer  curiosity. shifting in his position to stand tall, he draws an arrow back on his bow, sending it shooting through the air to pierce through the animal’s skull. it practically  drops  at the boy’s feet, and brian takes the opportunity to make himself known once the stranger has followed a trail back to him and their eyes  meet. 

                                 ❝  chon yu bilaik? ❞  a pause.  ❝ yu beda nou be hir. ❞

                    In. Out. Call the team for clean up.

                    Zacharie always preferred working alone. He really didn’t like anyone else around his job, making a mess of things. And there were very FEW exceptions to this rule. Zaiden was one, and the only other was the little blonde knife wielder. He had to admit that she was FASCINATING to watch if he was being honest. One look at her didn’t tell you that she could cut out your heart without a second thought. His brother always had his back, perched on a rooftop just close enough to assist should he need it, but Zacharie did his work well enough that extra assistance wasn’t needed.

                    He didn’t really like getting quite so DIRTY while he was on a job but he could see the FASCINATION and ADDICTIVE NATURE of it. Taking a life was addictive in and of itself after all. The ability to know that you were the one thing standing between them living and dying. That POWER was one that Zacharie truly lived for. He liked having that power. Perhaps a little too much. But if Zacharie knew how to do anything, he knew how to toe the line. He had a JOB to do. And that didn’t include becoming some random SERIAL KILLER.

                   He knew how to control himself. Though if whoever was behind him didn’t stop trying to FOLLOW him, he may have to reevaluate his motives. Zacharie was making his way back to the safe house when he first noticed it. Someone was following him and they weren’t doing a good job of hiding it.