Post by REHEMA JELANI SCAR on Mar 8, 2015 3:10:20 GMT
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Scar, Rehema [break] 35 Yrs Old & Male & Villain [break] Played by Ollie |
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[attr="class","LD1textarea"] Irony was the sparkle that kept life interesting. Scar let his brother die by falling now he in turn was going to plummet to his death. The wind rushing past his body served as a calming feeling. He was prepared to die, he was going to die. There was no question about it. His legacy, his short lived kingdom, was all gone. He had worked far too long. His blood, his soul, his sweat, his tears….All his work was for nothing. His dark eyes closed in preparation. He could see his future before him. His back would hit the ground first, then his head. His bones would smash, jutting out of his skin. Blood would pour out onto the ground. His skull would likely shatter, his powerful brain wasted. He would die and it would all be for nothing. He sacrificed everything for his rightful position, suffered making deals with the idiots and scum of the world. [break] [break]
He was ready to die and yet there was something so primal in him that was pleading for survival. He had to live, maybe there was some way that he could survive. Maybe there was some way that he could survive this fall, lick his wounds, heal himself through time. That he could come back, stronger and wiser and better for the experience. He could live. He could make this. He had not let anything else in this world beat him before. He most certainly would not let anything as lowly as a fall let him die. He would not let this happen. He couldn’t. He refused to die without a fight. He would reclaim what was rightfully his. And everyone would see how immortal he was, that he was the rightful king of this kingdom. [break] [break]
With that thought in Scar’s head, he flipped over, rolling mind air. His paws hit the ground with a force that radiated in his bones. He howled as he felt his ankles break at the sudden impact. His ribcage was the next to suffer the blow. He could feel parts break, something jutting into an organ deep inside. He howled, a beast in pain. He collapsed on his side, his chest heaving painfully. He was in agony. He could not breathe. He could barely move. [break] [break]
But he was alive. [break] [break]
He did not know how long he lied there. He drifted in and out of consciousness, his pain disallowing him from enveloping fully into the darkness that would have otherwise awaited him. His head was pounding and the silence around him was deafening. He was sure that Simba would be celebrating his newfound kinghood. [break] [break]
A sneer crossed his lips at that idea, his fangs curling as he thought about Simba letting his guard down. He would come in when Simba least expected him and take what was his. And he would make sure that Simba was the one that would be dead at his feet. He would make sure that the boy would never rise again to take the crown from him. He did not deserve it.
Scar began to register the rain cascading on his form. He was relieved that he could feel something besides the torture in his body. He could feel his wet, heavy fur. And now his left paw was twitching. He could feel it. He let out a growl, pushing himself to get up. He had to move. He had to get to safety. With a powerful roar, he propelled himself to get up on his feet. He almost fell, his broken paws unable to sustain his weight. But now he was moving to the depths of the jungle to lick his wounds and return once more victorious. [break] [break]
***** [break] [break]
It was so hard to find good help these days. Rehema could not help but scowl in annoyance. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he clenched on the pittance of goods that his men had been able to “collect”. “Morons…imbeciles,” He muttered to himself. He had sent the offending boys on the way, making sure that they knew that they had to work much harder if they wanted to stay in the ranks of his gang. [break] [break]
The Outsiders was a collection of out of work, out of place miscreants who so desperately wanted a place where their demands and wishes could be heard. He ran the group with an iron fist. You could not take without giving. Rehema did not like taking new boys in, especially if he did not know them before their enlistment. This proved it. They were shoddy in their pickpocketing and had given him cheap, useless baubles that he could not use to trade. He had sent them both out in the cover of darkness, warning them that they could either return with a king’s ransom or not return at all. [break] [break]
He was not their father, he was not their caregiver. He was their boss and they should be grateful for the opportunity he was giving them. Rehema released his fist and dropped the trinkets on the floor. He put his shoe to the cheap jewelry and crushed it. He needed help now. [break] [break]
He was ready to die and yet there was something so primal in him that was pleading for survival. He had to live, maybe there was some way that he could survive. Maybe there was some way that he could survive this fall, lick his wounds, heal himself through time. That he could come back, stronger and wiser and better for the experience. He could live. He could make this. He had not let anything else in this world beat him before. He most certainly would not let anything as lowly as a fall let him die. He would not let this happen. He couldn’t. He refused to die without a fight. He would reclaim what was rightfully his. And everyone would see how immortal he was, that he was the rightful king of this kingdom. [break] [break]
With that thought in Scar’s head, he flipped over, rolling mind air. His paws hit the ground with a force that radiated in his bones. He howled as he felt his ankles break at the sudden impact. His ribcage was the next to suffer the blow. He could feel parts break, something jutting into an organ deep inside. He howled, a beast in pain. He collapsed on his side, his chest heaving painfully. He was in agony. He could not breathe. He could barely move. [break] [break]
But he was alive. [break] [break]
He did not know how long he lied there. He drifted in and out of consciousness, his pain disallowing him from enveloping fully into the darkness that would have otherwise awaited him. His head was pounding and the silence around him was deafening. He was sure that Simba would be celebrating his newfound kinghood. [break] [break]
A sneer crossed his lips at that idea, his fangs curling as he thought about Simba letting his guard down. He would come in when Simba least expected him and take what was his. And he would make sure that Simba was the one that would be dead at his feet. He would make sure that the boy would never rise again to take the crown from him. He did not deserve it.
Scar began to register the rain cascading on his form. He was relieved that he could feel something besides the torture in his body. He could feel his wet, heavy fur. And now his left paw was twitching. He could feel it. He let out a growl, pushing himself to get up. He had to move. He had to get to safety. With a powerful roar, he propelled himself to get up on his feet. He almost fell, his broken paws unable to sustain his weight. But now he was moving to the depths of the jungle to lick his wounds and return once more victorious. [break] [break]
***** [break] [break]
It was so hard to find good help these days. Rehema could not help but scowl in annoyance. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he clenched on the pittance of goods that his men had been able to “collect”. “Morons…imbeciles,” He muttered to himself. He had sent the offending boys on the way, making sure that they knew that they had to work much harder if they wanted to stay in the ranks of his gang. [break] [break]
The Outsiders was a collection of out of work, out of place miscreants who so desperately wanted a place where their demands and wishes could be heard. He ran the group with an iron fist. You could not take without giving. Rehema did not like taking new boys in, especially if he did not know them before their enlistment. This proved it. They were shoddy in their pickpocketing and had given him cheap, useless baubles that he could not use to trade. He had sent them both out in the cover of darkness, warning them that they could either return with a king’s ransom or not return at all. [break] [break]
He was not their father, he was not their caregiver. He was their boss and they should be grateful for the opportunity he was giving them. Rehema released his fist and dropped the trinkets on the floor. He put his shoe to the cheap jewelry and crushed it. He needed help now. [break] [break]
[attr="class","trinCredits"]TABLE BY TRINITY @ ADOXOGRAPHY
