Chibi Magician likes this
Jan 1, 2021 19:15:32 GMT -6
[attr="class","chaerinbackdrop]
[attr="class","chaerintext"]determined
[attr="class","chaerinposting"] It had just been like any other mission. Chaerin had received a mission and had geared up with the other hunters in his division, ready to stop some sort of AP shenanigans. The nephilim was as confident as he normally was, visiting Nero before he would have to go out with his group. ”I’ll be back with another successful story, okay?” Chae’s voice was vibrant, happy and certain of their success. It wasn’t a sentence he would have figured would go so terribly false.
At first the mission was going just like any other. There was some back and forth, though it was sliding in their favor as usual, until .... unexpected reinforcements arrived. The nephilim ground his teeth together and pushed back as hard as he could, but it was a fight they were losing. Panting slightly between swings of his broadsword, he heard an ordered retreat, they’d have to abandon the location for now. Violet eyes turned towards the others and in a flash split of a second, realized that retreat wasn’t going to plan either.
There was no way everyone would be able to escape ... AP was too hot on everyone’s heels. Quickly sheathing his blade and turning on his heels, sprinting as fast as he could, Chaerin found himself intercepting an AP attack from another member of his unit on instinct. At the last second, his palms connected, bodily shoving forward his teammate, at the cost of his own momentum. Wincing as a blade cuts through skin and muscle, Chae’s quickly reacted action saves his comrade but not himself.
Turning to lash out in retaliation, the air grows heavy as a storm impends due to his sheer emotions, static tingling over his skin as his wound attempts to start healing itself. Chaerin’s blade is able to bite back into someone’s clothes and flesh, his vision blackening as he starts to lose himself to that familiar sensation of bloodlust. He holds back as many a she can with an onslaught of savagery - but eventually he had been taken.
The treatment of the usually cheery nephilim was something that was horrific. Information was something that was sought after - but Chaerin refused to budge. They could try to drag it out of him with increasingly more painful and brutal tactics, because if they ventured to injure him or almost go too far - he’d use his own healing ability to avoid the grasps of death. Ever refusing to budge, not giving an inch - the nephilim knew the cycle couldn’t reliably go on forever. They were becoming more savage, more restless. He couldn’t allow himself to die, however.
As time stretched on, his stubbornness began to wane. He offered less resistance, healed himself slower, though still he offered nothing of value. The security became more lax, his lack of energy became something they didn’t feel the need to keep on high alert. What he was still kept alive for, he couldn’t begin to grasp at. Eventually after time seemed to blur and blend together, something seemed to be happening. There was a lot of shouting about something - something about abandonment of this particular encampment. So .... this wasn’t even their main one?
The weakened nephilim gathered all the energy he could muster, rising from the chilled cool of the surface he had been lying upon. The last few days ... or he thinks so anyways, he had hardly moved around, hoping for the conservation of what strength he had left. If he was lucky...maybe he could escape in all the urgency and confusion. It could be his time to escape and make his way back to those that mattered, hoping that he had been able to help some of the others escape when the skirmish had happened.
The malnourished and weak nephilim eventually did manage to find a way out - though his surroundings were nigh unrecognizable. Swallowing back a sinking feeling in his stomach, he placed his first priority on avoiding any sounds he heard on the off-chance it was someone who would just recapture him again, or potentially just permanently strike him down. He has to stop and take a breather often, pushing away feelings of exhaustion and weakness as he continues to get as far away as he can.
Eventually, through hours and the sun set at least .... twice? Right? The barely functioning nephilim found himself in more familiar settings with a jolt. It caused his steps to hurry with urgency, his breath catching in his throat for a few moments. Lit silver by the moon, these buildings, this setting ... it was Lorsette. Just a little further....he would be home again.
As if on some animal instinct, Chaerin was naturally moving towards the location the person most near and dear to his heart was located. Unaware that a year and a half had almost passed, the dirty and thin nephilim, barely recognizable through how terrible he looked - knocked at Nero’s door. He would surely be home by now right..? Biting back the wave of exhaustion that pulled at him harder than ever, Chaerin leans against the door heavily.
Tag -- Nero Walton
Notes -- pain
At first the mission was going just like any other. There was some back and forth, though it was sliding in their favor as usual, until .... unexpected reinforcements arrived. The nephilim ground his teeth together and pushed back as hard as he could, but it was a fight they were losing. Panting slightly between swings of his broadsword, he heard an ordered retreat, they’d have to abandon the location for now. Violet eyes turned towards the others and in a flash split of a second, realized that retreat wasn’t going to plan either.
There was no way everyone would be able to escape ... AP was too hot on everyone’s heels. Quickly sheathing his blade and turning on his heels, sprinting as fast as he could, Chaerin found himself intercepting an AP attack from another member of his unit on instinct. At the last second, his palms connected, bodily shoving forward his teammate, at the cost of his own momentum. Wincing as a blade cuts through skin and muscle, Chae’s quickly reacted action saves his comrade but not himself.
Turning to lash out in retaliation, the air grows heavy as a storm impends due to his sheer emotions, static tingling over his skin as his wound attempts to start healing itself. Chaerin’s blade is able to bite back into someone’s clothes and flesh, his vision blackening as he starts to lose himself to that familiar sensation of bloodlust. He holds back as many a she can with an onslaught of savagery - but eventually he had been taken.
The treatment of the usually cheery nephilim was something that was horrific. Information was something that was sought after - but Chaerin refused to budge. They could try to drag it out of him with increasingly more painful and brutal tactics, because if they ventured to injure him or almost go too far - he’d use his own healing ability to avoid the grasps of death. Ever refusing to budge, not giving an inch - the nephilim knew the cycle couldn’t reliably go on forever. They were becoming more savage, more restless. He couldn’t allow himself to die, however.
As time stretched on, his stubbornness began to wane. He offered less resistance, healed himself slower, though still he offered nothing of value. The security became more lax, his lack of energy became something they didn’t feel the need to keep on high alert. What he was still kept alive for, he couldn’t begin to grasp at. Eventually after time seemed to blur and blend together, something seemed to be happening. There was a lot of shouting about something - something about abandonment of this particular encampment. So .... this wasn’t even their main one?
The weakened nephilim gathered all the energy he could muster, rising from the chilled cool of the surface he had been lying upon. The last few days ... or he thinks so anyways, he had hardly moved around, hoping for the conservation of what strength he had left. If he was lucky...maybe he could escape in all the urgency and confusion. It could be his time to escape and make his way back to those that mattered, hoping that he had been able to help some of the others escape when the skirmish had happened.
The malnourished and weak nephilim eventually did manage to find a way out - though his surroundings were nigh unrecognizable. Swallowing back a sinking feeling in his stomach, he placed his first priority on avoiding any sounds he heard on the off-chance it was someone who would just recapture him again, or potentially just permanently strike him down. He has to stop and take a breather often, pushing away feelings of exhaustion and weakness as he continues to get as far away as he can.
Eventually, through hours and the sun set at least .... twice? Right? The barely functioning nephilim found himself in more familiar settings with a jolt. It caused his steps to hurry with urgency, his breath catching in his throat for a few moments. Lit silver by the moon, these buildings, this setting ... it was Lorsette. Just a little further....he would be home again.
As if on some animal instinct, Chaerin was naturally moving towards the location the person most near and dear to his heart was located. Unaware that a year and a half had almost passed, the dirty and thin nephilim, barely recognizable through how terrible he looked - knocked at Nero’s door. He would surely be home by now right..? Biting back the wave of exhaustion that pulled at him harder than ever, Chaerin leans against the door heavily.
Tag -- Nero Walton
Notes -- pain
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