#turningpointrp

And if I told you Flitter was gay and wants to murk his boyfriend. What then.

Yeehaw !!!

funhouse rinse & repeat stuck in my head how bout [squidward voice] GEEEEEEEEEEET OOOOOOOOOUT!!!!

Thunk.

Thunk.

Thunk.

The dull impacts of metal sinking into wood echoed around the backyard of the Abbey Clinic. Maes Hughes was practicing again with the knives he'd found three years ago. They were small, light, equally useful as push-daggers or throwing knives, and he'd been learning their uses ever since he'd taken them off a fallen Aerugoan soldier. Ever since then he'd rarely been without them while outside, only removing them while inside the house out of deference to his foster family.

He was getting better, he noted as he moved to pull the blades out of the crude target he'd set up. It was little more than scrap lumber with the rough outline of a man painted on it. When he'd first started he'd been untrained and the knives had been too big for his hands, meaning he could barely hit inside the lines at all, and rarely where he was aiming. Three years later he could hit where he chose 9 times out of ten, and even group his shots.

The tall fifteen year old looked up at the sky to gauge the time. He'd been out here for almost an hour, and the sun was starting to head for the horizon. Time to head inside and grab Martin for patrol duty. All the men of Sweetwater took turns on patrol, and as soon as a boy was thought old and sensible enough he was included on the roster; they'd lost too many and needed every available man. Even if that meant including teenage boys.

Maes didn't mind. He liked patrol duty. It was dangerous, sure, but it also served to keep the Aerugoan bastards from trying sneak attacks in the town again. Technically the patrolmen's jobs were just to make sure everyone was off the streets by nightfall, but often Maes stayed out late, slipping through the shadowed streets and just watching the city.