https://blood-and-bone.silhouette-forums.com/ Tue, 20 Oct 2026 09:33:33 +0000 MyBB https://blood-and-bone.silhouette-forums.com/showthread.php?tid=880 Sat, 08 Jul 2023 16:44:23 +0000 Colton Holcombe]]> https://blood-and-bone.silhouette-forums.com/showthread.php?tid=880

He had been played.

If there was anything that was brazenly clear about this entire situation, it was this. Colton had to wonder why. Sure, he wasn't often the brightest or the smartest man in the room. He was cautious and driven by anxiety and consistent concern for his own well being, which made him desperate. Too desperate. Desperate enough to believe a long-time family friend that when Heath said he was the only one Colt could rely on; Colt believed it. He had no reason not to. He had no reason to suspect that Heath would put the needs of the job above his safety without substantial reasoning.

All of which came into question after his latest near-death experience with one particular unnamed hybrid of an infected. Colton had no other way of explaining what had happened other than that. At first he was a man, just a man, assumedly a military man... and the next he was no better than the creatures in the cages in the next room. Circumventing the rather frightening ending to their encounter, he had brought an interesting piece of information. A warning.

Colton paced on the inside of the office meeting space. It was as dark and dank as he had remembered it. A permanent scowl seemed to be etched into his brows as he went to and fro. He waited, waited to implode like a ticking time bomb as soon as Heath showed up. He suspected he would be a surprise. He hoped so. Being early to their "meetings" was not his modus operandi.

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He had been played.

If there was anything that was brazenly clear about this entire situation, it was this. Colton had to wonder why. Sure, he wasn't often the brightest or the smartest man in the room. He was cautious and driven by anxiety and consistent concern for his own well being, which made him desperate. Too desperate. Desperate enough to believe a long-time family friend that when Heath said he was the only one Colt could rely on; Colt believed it. He had no reason not to. He had no reason to suspect that Heath would put the needs of the job above his safety without substantial reasoning.

All of which came into question after his latest near-death experience with one particular unnamed hybrid of an infected. Colton had no other way of explaining what had happened other than that. At first he was a man, just a man, assumedly a military man... and the next he was no better than the creatures in the cages in the next room. Circumventing the rather frightening ending to their encounter, he had brought an interesting piece of information. A warning.

Colton paced on the inside of the office meeting space. It was as dark and dank as he had remembered it. A permanent scowl seemed to be etched into his brows as he went to and fro. He waited, waited to implode like a ticking time bomb as soon as Heath showed up. He suspected he would be a surprise. He hoped so. Being early to their "meetings" was not his modus operandi.

]]> https://blood-and-bone.silhouette-forums.com/showthread.php?tid=873 Tue, 21 Mar 2023 04:12:03 +0000 Remiel Somnus]]> https://blood-and-bone.silhouette-forums.com/showthread.php?tid=873

It was the usual spring weather in Stronghold as Remiel quickly headed home/workspace. While it has been a couple of years since being kicked out of the inner citadel, would it be strange to say that Remiel didn't miss it? While there were some luxuries he missed and took for granted, he didn't mind this life. It wasn't pretty nor was it perfect, but it was better than being his brother's plaything.

However, his uncle Carl has become more challenging as of late. Remiel has tried to detox his uncle plenty of times, the two often coming to blows. The old conversation of "what he should have done" was signed and yelled at him and he would like to not repatch the wall again either.

Remiel doubted he was still served the Military with the way he was. If anything, probably put on the uniform to "work", steal what he could, and go gambling. Usually getting a text from the Casino as a courtesy because one of the security guards there was a friend of his.

Deciding to take a break, he found himself a spot where the rain wasn't angled toward him. His bright hues stared up to the dark ominous sky where it would occasionally glimmer with light. Thunder, he thought and shook some water off of his coat. Allowing his eyes to wander for a little bit to see what was happening around him.

The streets were muddy and not as crowded as it could be. Many had their heads down to keep the rain off their face, some using makeshift protective gear using tape, bags, pieces of a tarp, and whatever else that was water repellent. There were umbrellas scattered about but most have found out that they break way too easily and would be a waste of money. It's funny how behind the wall, where he used to live, it was a common sight.

Remiel's vision focuses on the way the rain hit certain things, like the thin metal roof across the street or the blinking neon sign down the way, how different were the sounds? Did it sound high or sound low? Some of his students have told him that when it hits the sheet metal, it reminds them of a dull bell or like a hammering sound. Again, can't verify, but he appreciates the effort nonetheless.

I probably should get going, who knows if Robert texted me or not about Carl, sighed Remiel and waited for a big enough opening to squeeze himself into. Making sure he was moving at the same speed as everyone else while throwing the occasional shoulder when someone got too aggressive with him.

It wasn't until he reached the safety of his alleyway did he move out of the moving line and reached for the keys. The package inside of his jacket was still dry and that is all that mattered. No sooner did he turn the key to unlock the door, there was a vibration he felt through the door handle. Turning his head, he saw what caused said vibration.

A fight has broken out, nothing new here, but usually he had his uncle around to help break it up. Pushing the door open and closing it, Remiel took off the drenched jacket and placed the dry filter for the water system he created onto the counter. His hand ran through the damp hair with the other checking his belt for what is about to come next.

"You should never turn a blind eye to someone suffering at the hands of another."

Remiel's mother's words played in his head over and over again. There was a fear of him hurting another, but to harm another to save another? It was a rough decision and something that he needed to do. After all, it was three against one.

To whoever you are out there, I am sorry, as he unsnapped the holster. And damn it, uncle, why couldn't you be here this time?

Remiel moved quickly to the door without his jacket and opened it, the rain was warm now, the air humid, and he flicked his wrists as the fiberglass batons extended. Without hesitation, he moved to the first person that appeared to be the biggest threat after a knife was brandished above their head. The man appeared to be in a euphoric state based on the side profile and he noted where the other two were. Holding down the person that wasn't in any condition to fight.

His arms spread out as he brought them together quickly with eyes on the joint of the elbow. The two batons came from opposite ends and connected in the middle and he didn't stop there. Closing the distance as both men slid a little, tripping them, and with a turn of the one baton in his hand, he drove it down onto their chest. Two forces, gravity and himself, drove the other down until the murky concrete stopped them. The baton being given enough force to make it sheath itself.

Flicking a wrist, the baton extended again and made contact with another's face. Catching them in the teeth while rolling away when the other began to move. His clothes were already wet but even he could feel the coating of whatever was on the ground. The one on the ground wasn't moving, most likely won't be, and the other was holding their mouth.

Remiel couldn't see what the other was saying due to them being partially covered by the other, though he was certain they were threatening him. The one holding his mouth spit out bloodied teeth as rage took over his gaunt face and charged him. For Remiel, nature assisted him here. He slipped in the water and Remiel struck him with both batons on the downswing.

Both men weren't standing up and the third one seemed to change his mind and threw the other down as they ran. While he knew that his home and business may get some backlash from whatever gang they were affiliated with, but... A big but that is, they may just be plain muggers looking for a fix.

After a few moments, with both bodies still not moving, Remiel took both batons and slammed them against the side of the building that made them resheath as he placed them back in their holsters. Taking a few steps forward to the man who was injured to help them up and get them to the door of his place where he can patch them up.

You are in good hands, he signed with one hand and took both of their soaked and dirty bodies inside. Shutting and locking the door as the rain washed away the evidence from his step and door as if nothing ever transpired.

Tag Puck Frisk

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It was the usual spring weather in Stronghold as Remiel quickly headed home/workspace. While it has been a couple of years since being kicked out of the inner citadel, would it be strange to say that Remiel didn't miss it? While there were some luxuries he missed and took for granted, he didn't mind this life. It wasn't pretty nor was it perfect, but it was better than being his brother's plaything.

However, his uncle Carl has become more challenging as of late. Remiel has tried to detox his uncle plenty of times, the two often coming to blows. The old conversation of "what he should have done" was signed and yelled at him and he would like to not repatch the wall again either.

Remiel doubted he was still served the Military with the way he was. If anything, probably put on the uniform to "work", steal what he could, and go gambling. Usually getting a text from the Casino as a courtesy because one of the security guards there was a friend of his.

Deciding to take a break, he found himself a spot where the rain wasn't angled toward him. His bright hues stared up to the dark ominous sky where it would occasionally glimmer with light. Thunder, he thought and shook some water off of his coat. Allowing his eyes to wander for a little bit to see what was happening around him.

The streets were muddy and not as crowded as it could be. Many had their heads down to keep the rain off their face, some using makeshift protective gear using tape, bags, pieces of a tarp, and whatever else that was water repellent. There were umbrellas scattered about but most have found out that they break way too easily and would be a waste of money. It's funny how behind the wall, where he used to live, it was a common sight.

Remiel's vision focuses on the way the rain hit certain things, like the thin metal roof across the street or the blinking neon sign down the way, how different were the sounds? Did it sound high or sound low? Some of his students have told him that when it hits the sheet metal, it reminds them of a dull bell or like a hammering sound. Again, can't verify, but he appreciates the effort nonetheless.

I probably should get going, who knows if Robert texted me or not about Carl, sighed Remiel and waited for a big enough opening to squeeze himself into. Making sure he was moving at the same speed as everyone else while throwing the occasional shoulder when someone got too aggressive with him.

It wasn't until he reached the safety of his alleyway did he move out of the moving line and reached for the keys. The package inside of his jacket was still dry and that is all that mattered. No sooner did he turn the key to unlock the door, there was a vibration he felt through the door handle. Turning his head, he saw what caused said vibration.

A fight has broken out, nothing new here, but usually he had his uncle around to help break it up. Pushing the door open and closing it, Remiel took off the drenched jacket and placed the dry filter for the water system he created onto the counter. His hand ran through the damp hair with the other checking his belt for what is about to come next.

"You should never turn a blind eye to someone suffering at the hands of another."

Remiel's mother's words played in his head over and over again. There was a fear of him hurting another, but to harm another to save another? It was a rough decision and something that he needed to do. After all, it was three against one.

To whoever you are out there, I am sorry, as he unsnapped the holster. And damn it, uncle, why couldn't you be here this time?

Remiel moved quickly to the door without his jacket and opened it, the rain was warm now, the air humid, and he flicked his wrists as the fiberglass batons extended. Without hesitation, he moved to the first person that appeared to be the biggest threat after a knife was brandished above their head. The man appeared to be in a euphoric state based on the side profile and he noted where the other two were. Holding down the person that wasn't in any condition to fight.

His arms spread out as he brought them together quickly with eyes on the joint of the elbow. The two batons came from opposite ends and connected in the middle and he didn't stop there. Closing the distance as both men slid a little, tripping them, and with a turn of the one baton in his hand, he drove it down onto their chest. Two forces, gravity and himself, drove the other down until the murky concrete stopped them. The baton being given enough force to make it sheath itself.

Flicking a wrist, the baton extended again and made contact with another's face. Catching them in the teeth while rolling away when the other began to move. His clothes were already wet but even he could feel the coating of whatever was on the ground. The one on the ground wasn't moving, most likely won't be, and the other was holding their mouth.

Remiel couldn't see what the other was saying due to them being partially covered by the other, though he was certain they were threatening him. The one holding his mouth spit out bloodied teeth as rage took over his gaunt face and charged him. For Remiel, nature assisted him here. He slipped in the water and Remiel struck him with both batons on the downswing.

Both men weren't standing up and the third one seemed to change his mind and threw the other down as they ran. While he knew that his home and business may get some backlash from whatever gang they were affiliated with, but... A big but that is, they may just be plain muggers looking for a fix.

After a few moments, with both bodies still not moving, Remiel took both batons and slammed them against the side of the building that made them resheath as he placed them back in their holsters. Taking a few steps forward to the man who was injured to help them up and get them to the door of his place where he can patch them up.

You are in good hands, he signed with one hand and took both of their soaked and dirty bodies inside. Shutting and locking the door as the rain washed away the evidence from his step and door as if nothing ever transpired.

Tag Puck Frisk

]]>