blackhand: ([srsbsns] Tʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏssᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴀɪɴs)
GARRETT » 「 ɟǝᴉɥʇ ɹǝʇsɐɯ ǝɥʇ 」 ([personal profile] blackhand) wrote in [community profile] nestbox 2014-04-03 04:05 am (UTC)

[If there is anything the Master Thief is prepared for within the City, it is an impossible heist, with impossible rewards. A challenge that forces him to be at his best, a motive that makes him think and move and react at the utmost that he can. He's been doing this for over twenty years, and this heist shouldn't have been different. The plans were laid out, he had everything he needed, and everything had gone just as it should.

Just as the Thief Taker General had predicted.

Sometimes Garrett wonders why he never killed the man, choosing his morality over the possible future consequences letting him live would bring. The humiliation had been worth it, of course, hearing the man still angrily yell at him and wasting his exploding crossbow bolts long after Garrett had gone. But now, standing where he was...

Garrett isn't a fool, and the Thief Taker General knows it. It's in an open courtyard of a manor, with very little to keep him from sight. There's light everywhere, too few shadows for him to hide in, and every time he shoots one out, they know where he is and relight the torches once more. It's a chase of cat and mouse, and while more often than not, he enjoys these kinds of games, this one is getting too close for comfort.

There's a scramble made by the thief, Claw reaching for a grate up the wall of where he first arrived, cloak tailing behind as the guards shout to shoot. He gets halfway up before the sound of an incoming hail of arrows meets his ears, and he picks up the pace, swiftly moving upwards, hands reaching the top of the wall with ease-

And the first arrow goes right into his left leg.

Garret slips at that, one hand hanging onto the wall edge and the other dangling down, trying to swing back up and grab the ledge again, ignoring the pain that screams through his body, when a second arrow lodges itself into his back, close to his heart. A third nicely slips into his shoulder, and by some amount of either sheer stupidity or perhaps insane amount of will, the thief grabs into the ledge and pulls himself up and over, crashing to the other side below. It's not a graceful drop by any means, he lands on his hip and can only remain there in crippling agony for a moment before forcing himself up once more, and dragging himself along the roads back home. Rain begins to pour, making the travel and visibility more of a hassle the further he goes.

By the time he comes close to the clocktower, he's leaving a trail of blood behind him, and is crawling rather than walking or running into his place of safety. Rounding a corner, he collapses where he is, thankful at least that there's shadows everywhere so a guard doesn't happen upon him. But he's lightheaded and his eyelids are getting heavy, breathing is becoming a chore and the searing pain he felt is now dulling into an aching throb.

So this is what it's like to die. What a way to go.

There's sounds of pain as he pulls out the arrows that he can reach, then finally leans back against the wall, waiting for whatever comes. Pathetic, really, to be dying because of a man he should have killed so long ago. There's irony somewhere in that, but Garrett doesn't have the care or willpower to really search for it anymore.]

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