OOC: This thread takes place after
this one. Also, the intro post has some strong language. Please use caution when reading, thanks.
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Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck.He was sweating bullets, the curls of his dark hair clinging to his skin as he raced through the gardens. Dogs were nearly biting at his heals, and a man with a gun was spewing promises to kill him off.
Leif Arrant hardly had many allies in the world of nobility, but was no stranger to the dangers of the men he rattled with his harsh words. He was not a man to keep his tongue bridled by the proprieties of his station. No, he was an eclectic man who would speak every single word he had. And would spew every thought along with it.
So he made a few enemies outside of his masked persona, and knowing he was to be married today, he never thought he'd be running away from his bride in this manner, but there he was, making a b-line away from the church of Reajh in order to save his ass...
And hers.
The bells began to ring, chiming across the world to remind it of today's special occasion. Fuck.
And here the groom was, racing across the other end of town...
He knew if he stopped, the men and dogs chasing him would catch up-
and leave it to him to keep only a knife on him. And his mask...
So you see, he couldn't just die here, or let them gut him inside the church, for if they did...
well, how would that explain the mask inside his pocket? And if they hurt his fiance, so help him...
So off he ran, shoes pounding heavily across the cobble stone as he made quick work of his way through the capital's streets...
and when he ducked into a nearby ally, he pressed himself up against hte wall and held his breath.
A moment later he heard the dogs pass.. and waited even longer, hoping the man had followed. Then, glancing around the corner, he noticed a ladder propped against a nearby building. He supposed that was how he ought to get back. Climbing up quickly, he was in the roof top in no time and making his way from one to the next, with a few extravagant and potential deadly leaps along the way. Soon he was almost back at the church where he paused upon the roof top, looking own, and hoped that no body saw him.
He was never foolish enough to show himself like this in daylight but once he slipped off the roof top, he slicked back his hair, tried to wipe away the sweat on his forehead and began to make his way back towards the church.
Glancing up and noting the clock upon the building's exterior tower, he cursed.
Shit. He was half an hour late for his own wedding.