Private Tales Reckoning

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Fuck. Mako thought as he stepped into the doorway just in time to see Emilie stab the other Reckoners directly in the eye.

A spurt of blood sprayed over her face, and the man let out a harrowed scream. His fingers pulled away from her, and like a ragdoll he fell onto the floor dead. Several more curses echoed through Mako's head, and as he looked down at the freshly made corpse he felt the itch on his back turn into a full on burn.

A wince carried over his entire body, as though someone had smacked him across the face.

It was like the Mark was trying to push him, force him to take action. Lips thinned for a few seconds, and he stepped forward into the room. His mind was racing, head spinning as he looked over at Emilie and the other man. The man he was supposed to have killed.

Now both of them were marked for death.

Fuck fuck fuck. Mako thought. FUCK.

The word rang in his head he realized he didn't want to kill her.
 
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Emilie's eyes closed against the second spray of blood, and the instant his grip loosened she clattered to the floor with deep, rasping breaths and pained coughs as she dragged the air back into her burning lungs. She was frantically wiping the blood from her face, though there was so much of it she was only smearing it and making it worse. Her breaths became whimpers and trembled sobs, her body shaking in catatonic shock.

She had seen only two people die in her life, but this was the first she'd ever caused death. Her eyes were wide as she looked at the two bodies on the floor, and then to her father who sobbed over his son's still body, cradling it in his arms.

It was too much to process, everything came together so quickly, they'd found them, they'd killed her brother, they'd tried to kill her, she'd murdered them both. She leaned over and vomited onto the floor, coughing as she heaved. She hadn't even noticed Mako, she'd forgotten he'd been there at all.

"Who are you?" her father asked, staring up at the mute with fear in his eyes. It was only then that her attention snapped up, the back of her hand dragging across her mouth as she looked up at him, a trembling mess.
 
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Mako trembled as he stood there.

What was he supposed to do? What could he do?

The mark on his back burned, ached, throbbed. It was a constant reminder, a push. He was now near not one, but two people that he was supposed to kill. His stomach dropped, and the fingers on his sword tightened until his knuckles grew white.

He heard Emilie's father speak, his words echoed in his ears...but it didn't matter. He took a slow slumberous step towards him. It seemed as though he was about to stumble, fall over, as though he were fighting against some unseen force.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Boots echoed against the wooden floors of the workshop until he loomed over to the two of them, bright amber eyes staring down.

He wished he could speak. He wished he could say something.

Slowly he crouched down, his hand still shaking as he pointed a finger towards one of Twins that lay spread across the floor. His index nudged the mark upon his throat, the brand of the Reckoners. It lingered there for a moment, and then slowly he gestured towards himself.

His gaze cast towards Emilie, filled with only pain, regret, and horror.
 
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Emilie could only stare back at Mako, wondering what in hell he must be thinking. How dramatically their little whirlwind romance had turned into chaos. "I.." she frowned, watching him stumble toward the bodies. She didn't know what she'd been about to say, but even if she'd had something in mind, it'd have been wiped clean as realisation dawned on her.

How often do strangers come to town?..

Em's head slowly started to shake, tears falling from her eyes, streaking flesh coloured lines through the crimson that covered her face. "No.." she said quietly, her throat bruised and aching. "No.." she said again, her head still shaking.

She dragged herself into the corner of the room, her body wracked with sobs so hard she almost vomited again. Her hand found hold of some sort of chisel and she lifted it into her tremulous grip, holding it in front of her.

He'd been fighting them..

Nothing made sense..


"Don't come near me!!" she managed to scream at him, though her voice cracked.
 
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Mako frowned for a moment, his fingers tightening again for a few seconds.

A moment passed, he glanced down at the sword in his hand, at the man that was cradling his dead son. Lips thinned, and then slowly he forced himself to release the blade. It clattered onto the floor, the sound of its fall echoing through the room.

He let that sound echo through the room, his fingers opening and closing slowly as Emilie's voice clung in his ears.

A breath filled his lungs.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched the old man, knowing the danger that was still there. Teeth sunk into his lower lip for a moment, and then he pointed to her.

His finger drew towards his eyes, claiming her attention. Then slowly he gestured towards the Reckoners, towards himself. A second later his finger drew across his throat. Then he moved on to point at her father, then to herself.

Mako mimed slowly with his fingers, trying to tell her, trying to force her to see that this wasn't the end. That they would keep coming, that they had to.

There wasn't a choice.

The burning on his back was almost unbearable now. Painful. His eyes squeezed shut for a moment, and he pointed towards her, the gesture desperately emphatic. His other finger then gestured towards himself, and the two quickly interlinked.

It was the only thing he could think to symbolize what he meant. What he needed;

Her trust.
 
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She couldn't focus on his gestures but she knew, somehow she knew what he was trying to say to her about trusting him, but she couldn't stop sobbing or shaking her head at him in disbelief.

"Leave us alone!" she croaked at him, brandishing the sharp chisel in her shaking hand, her knuckles pale with the grip she had on it. "Leave us alone or I'll kill you too." she frowned, pure rage clouding the fear in her eyes.
 
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Mako hesitated a moment.

Not because he was afraid. Not because he thought she might lash out. The twins had been caught by surprise, but he wouldn't be. Hesitation flickered over him because he didn't want to harm her, because he wanted to keep her alive.

For a moment the mute simply stayed where he was, squatting over the corpse. Then slowly he looked down. A grim expression crossed his fingers, and then his finger swiped through the pool of blood.

They will kill you.​

He wrote within the crimson pool.

They will keep coming and coming. No matter what you do. They will find you, and they will slaughter you both.​

Mako looked towards the old man as he ran out of blood to write in, his finger stopping for a moment before he drew back.

Then he made the same gesture as before; Trust me.
 
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Em grimaced as he started writing in the blood of on of the men she'd killed. She felt like she might throw up again, but she reluctantly read what he had to say. Tears continued to fall and she grit her teeth at him, still holding up the chisel should he dare to go near her or her father.

"You mean YOU will kill us. You're one of them!" she growled and sobbed, her head shaking in disbelief at him. "How could I trust you?! You knew who I was! You used me to get to my father!" she yelled, rage and pain fighting for dominance on her face.

"Get out! Let us go. Please.." she cried, glancing at her father who still held onto her little brother's body.
 
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He hadn't known of course. Not really. He'd known she was helping someone, but he'd never put the pieces together. She was his daughter, the dead boy her brother. It was a heart breaking truth, and it only made him angry.

Angry that he was stuck. Angry with himself. Just angry.

Mako's frustration flickered over his face. Hands coming to his head for a moment as he squeezed his temples. Head shook for a moment, lips thinning as he again pointed towards the twins.

Then he jerked his hand towards the both of them, then towards the writing.

There wasn't any escape. There wasn't any getting away. They could go on the run, they could head to the ends of the earth, but the Reckoners would find them. There was no solution to this. None-save for the one that he had come up with.

He reached down. Dipping his finger in blood.

They will find you.

Mako wrote in the blood.

I can help.

He looked up at her, a pleading look in his eyes. Had he wanted to kill them they would both already be dead.
 
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She watched him gesture, read the words, and still her head was shaking in shock and disbelief.

"Who--Who is this man, Em?" her father croaked out as he coddled his son's lifeless body. Em couldn't look at it. His throat had been cut and his face was pale, her father soaked in his blood. It had to be some vicious nightmare..

She didn't know how to answer that. He's one of them? He came her to kill you and slept with me to get to you?.. What had changed? Murderers like him didn't feel pity or remorse, did they?

Em ignored her father and caught her breath through her choked sobs as she stared up at Mako, weapon still brandished. "Help us how? Aren't you supposed to kill him?" she jerked a chin at her father, and her gaze fell on the two bodies, her mouth parting for a moment.

"Aren't you supposed to kill me?" she added. Someone had warned them after her father had killed the man in the alleyway. They had known about reckoners, and insisted that they get far away as quickly as possible. She had just simply thought they'd hidden themselves well enough in Old Ashton. Obviously not.
 
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A grimace flickered over his face as another ebb of pain lanced over his back. The mark was pressing him now, trying to force him to do what it needed. He knew that eventually it would be debilitating, such agony that he wouldn't be able to move lest it got him closer to killing his targets.

Lips thinned and he nodded, answering her question.

A hand quickly shot up a second later, his weapon clattering to the floor to show that he at least did not want to kill them. It was hard to communicate, hard to tell his intentions. Mako wanted to scream, yell, tell her what he wanted.

Eyes squeezed shut a moment.

He took a breath, then scrambled to gather more blood. The pool was quickly coagulating now, taking his ability to write his grizzly messages.

But. I want to help.​

Mako looked up at her, desperation in his eyes.
 
She watched the weapon clatter to the floor and her hand trembled, but she didn't lower her own 'weapon'. Her eyes fell on the message he'd written and she grimaced, her eyes squeezing shut. "Stop doing that!" she snapped, as though she'd just realised how he'd been communicating with her.

"Then what do we do? How many of th-- of you, are there?" she asked with a scowl, her eyes glassy with tears.

"He's one of them?!" her father barked as he finally caught up, and he clutched the dead boy in his arms, as though it might've been possible to kill him all over again.

"You, led them here?" he asked, looking between Emilie and Mako. She wasn't sure which one he was asking, but her heart sank and another wave of nausea crashed over her.

"I..." she tried to answer, but she could only drop the tool and bury her hands in her face as she cried. This was her fault.
 
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With a frown he looked to Emilie, shrugging his shoulders and holding up all ten of his fingers...then again, and again, and again. He did it until the count reached one hundred. It was close enough, though give or take a few.

Mako shook his head to her father's question.

He had not signalled any of the other Reckoners, mostly because he hadn't needed to. The Mark had been their guide, and unlike him they had known how to read it's signals better. The magic was an enigmatic sort, and knowing it took time.

If he'd known better he might have been able to tell that Emilie wasn't just hiding the killer, but was his daughter. Something that he all but cursed himself for now.

Curse.

Mako quickly scribbled, pointing to the Rreckoner sigil on the twin's corpse. Then he quickly pointed to his earlier writing telling them that they would always be found.

It was magic. Old, and lashed onto them as soon as they'd landed their blades. The curse set upon them would remained until the Reckoners ended their lives, or...if he was right, until they became Reckoners themselves.

He paused for a second, then spun around and lifted his shirt.

There they would see the symbol, carved deep into his flesh and long since having become a scar. He then turned back towards the two and pointed.
 
Emilie frowned at the scar on his back, the one she'd felt under her fingertips when they'd.. She felt, betrayed, and on top of grief and fear, she was outright furious. She launched the chisel in her hand at him with a growl in exertion and pushed herself to her feet.

"How COULD you!?" she yelled at him as she stormed toward him and attacked him with pounding fists and shoves. "You used me! You were going to kill him and leave!"

"Get OUT! Get out right NOW!" she cried, panting heavy breaths in panic.
 
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The chisel flew through the air, Mako took half a step back in panic.

A flicker of something happened. The slightest flicker of lightning running over the length of the thrown chisel. It would have been near impossible to see if one weren't looking for it, but the purple light sparked over the length and the handle seemed to shift and darted over Mako's shoulder just barely.

It landed on the ground in a clatter just as Emilie reached Mako and began to push him away.

Her fingers pounded into his chest, shoving, practically throwing him back. He didn't fight back. He took slow retreating steps, moving back towards the door as he looked towards her desperately.

As they reached the doorway Mako suddenly snapped his hands up, catching Emilie's wrists in a viper like grasp. There he held her for a moment, his lips thinning, his golden eyes peering down at her. For a moment he opened his mouth as though he were about to speak, and then he shook his head.

You're going to die without me. He thought bitterly.
 
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Emilie stared up at him, hissing heavy breaths through her teeth, her trembling fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white. She didn't fight the firm grip he had on her, if anything the longer she remained within it and the longer she stared at him, the more she eased, as though he'd given her some sort of anchor to pull her back down. She seemed to read what was in his eyes, and she knew that if he had wanted to kill them then he would have done so by now.

Suddenly she eased too much, her legs giving way as she fell against him to cry into his chest.. "Just kill me." she whispered amidst her sobs. She couldn't face running any more, they'd already run this far, it didn't seem to matter. There were so many of them and they'd find them wherever they went. What sort of life would it be to live in fear?

"Kill us both and make it quick.." she whispered again.
 
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Mako froze for a moment, not entirely sure what to do next.

He should have killed them. Should have cut both their throats and simply called it a day gone by. It was what he was supposed to do. What would have been 'just' in it's own sort of way. Radic would have approved, might even have praised him.

But it didn't feel right.

Emilie had just been protecting her father, her brother.

Mako didn't know if the same could be said of the old man, if her father had done some noble deed or simply killed Charos to get out of some debt. As he held Emilie he peered over her head and tried to read the man, judge him. A frown touched his lips, and once again he found himself wishing that he could speak. Even a few words might have helped.

He longed for a voice.

Perhaps then he could have explained.

After what seemed like an age Mako shook his head. His frown deepened, and slowly he broke away from Emilie. Without a moment of hesitation he broke through the doorway passed her, slipping a knife from his sleeve and stepping towards one of the twins. Silently he glanced at the old man, grabbed the twins hand, then began to carve through his wrist.
 
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It was a terrible few moments, waiting to die. She wondered where he'd put the blade, or if she'd even feel it. Her eyes squeezed shut and she'd tightened her grip on him, but her eyes snapped open as he broke from her and strode away, her brow furrowing as she watched.

Her heart stumbled as he drew his blade and she took an instinctive step forward, believing he'd been about to turn the blade on her father despite the fact that she'd told him to. She still couldn't bear it.

What he did next though caused her stomach to churn uneasily and she grimaced, dragging her gaze away.. "What the hell are you doing!?" she demanded, feeling the colour drain from her face.
 
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The hand came loose with a sickening crack of bone.

He wrenched it free, some blood splattering onto the opposite wall as he carried it over towards the other twin. There he proceeded to do the same, carving the mans hand off. There was no hesitation from him, no moment of pause to explain.

When he finished his butchery Mako turned towards Emilie. His stare was hard, golden eyes peering up at her as he took one single finger and pointed to the Mark that had been carved onto the twin's throat.

He let it linger there, then jerked his finger pointedly at her.

With his other hand he flicked up the knife, as if adding to the suggestion.
 
The sound of snapping bone caused Em to double over and slam her hand to her mouth as she leaned against the wall, gagging on the thought of what he was doing. "Gods, please stop." she asked in a shuddered breath.

"Boy what..what are you doing?!" her father squawked in shock as he stared for as long as he could before having to look away.

Em's gaze was narrow, wary of seeing too much as she turned to look back at him, meeting his stare. She frowned as she tried to understand what he was saying, and her head slowly shook, certain she was mistaken.. "You want to carve one of those things into me?" she asked incredulously.

"You want me to be like you?!" she asked, her tone a little more venomous.
 
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Mako stared at her, watching in silence for a few moments before looking at the twins.

His knife gently gestured towards what he had scribbled in blood earlier. The phrase telling her that they would be hunted, found, killed. He turned back towards her with the same hard eyes, his gaze fixed. Only way.

He mouthed the words slowly.

There was no other way. No other solution. He wasn't a mage. He didn't know any wizards, and even if he did there had never been a single person to remove the Mark. Not that he'd heard of, not that Radic had ever mentioned.

The Reckoners were final.

A family you could never leave, and one you didn't always want to be a part of.
 
Emilie could only stare at him, her gaze distant as she considered what he was asking her to become. Her father had been looking between them both in confusion until he noticed the blade and he let go of his son's body to stagger to his feet and stand in front of Em, pulling her behind him.

"You'll not touch her with that blade, son." the older man pointed at Mako with glistening tears in his eyes. "Your lot have taken my son from me, you won't be hurtin' my daughter." his head shook.
 
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Mako dropped his head and sighed.

How are they not understanding this?
He could well understand Emilie's fury, grief. All of it was natural, normal, at least for...ordinary folk. Mako had never had to endure such a thing. His family was...well, his family had always been distant at best.

Their emotions didn't change the issue at hand however.

The Reckoners would be coming for them, would still be coming for them. The mark on his back was burning, aching with so much pain that it was practically debilitating. His lips thinned, a grimace pushing over his expression as he once again gestured to the twins.

He pointed at the two dead men, then at the two of them.

A motion of a cut across the throat quickly jerked with his free hand, then his shoulders raised in a disbelieving shrug.

Did they not understand?

He pointed in frustration at his scribbles.
 
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Emilie set a gentle hand on her father's arm and stepped around him, turning to face him. She couldn't stand the pain in his eyes. She stood up onto her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around him. "It's alright." she whispered, her brow knitting. Em did understand, she knew enough about the Reckoners to believe Mako when he said they'd keep coming, and that if she too were marked with those runes she'd have the same need to kill as they had.

The thought made her feel sick again, but this wasn't just about her. They would stop hunting her father too, and perhaps the old man would be able to live in peace as he grieved for his son. Until there was someone to kill, that was.

"They'll stop hunting us. He's trying to help.." she whispered.

"You don't trust this m--?"

"No." Emilie cut him off quickly as she stepped away from him. "I don't, but it's the only option right now." She offered her father a tight smile and turned back to Mako with a look of fear and disdain as she slipped her top down to bare her shoulder to him, her jaw clenching tightly as she huffed at him.
 
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Finally. Mako thought to himself as Emilie began to argue in favor of the plan.

He was in enough pain that if she'd fought against it one more time...Mako hadn't been entirely sure he would be able to hold his hand. The urge from the mark was intensely powerful, and he knew eventually it would overwhelm and compel.

This would stop that. At least he hoped.

In truth he still wasn't entirely sure that it would work, but Radic had told him how the ritual needed to be conducted.

"The Hands of three Reckoners must carve it, each a third, and only then will it work."

He had three hands. That would do.

As Emilie leaned down beside him he flipped his knife around, slipping it into the hand of the first Twin and closing his fingers around it. Then he quickly looked at her, and used the hand to press the tip of the blade into her shoulder as he began to carve.
 
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