Free States of the Crescent

[The Stormfather He/Him]

Just now, Spark of Hope said:

 

Quote

Eventually, one of the guards walked over to their cell. "Get up." He opened the door, bringing them into the main part of the barn.

Guards whispered to each other, sending messages along lines that slowly formed around Mark and Marewill.

One of them in particular stepped towards the two, pistol holstered on his belt. "You two cause a lot of trouble, you know."

Oh, yeah I wonder why-

"Maybe you shouldn't have tried to kill us then." Mark spat. The others around him reacted quickly, readying weapons to see if he would try anything. He backed off, still staring at the one of them who had spoken.

"Watch your tone. Or you'll end up like the Marksmen." The captor said, lifting his pistol out of it's holster, holding it at his side. "Move it." He pointed to the door. "At least your next cell will smell better." He wrinkled his nose. "Not sure why we picked at rusting barn, but whatever."

Mark began slowly moving towards the door, watching those around him warily.

[Through the Living Hope]

2 minutes ago, The Stormfather said:

Eventually, one of the guards walked over to their cell. "Get up." He opened the door, bringing them into the main part of the barn.

Guards whispered to each other, sending messages along lines that slowly formed around Mark and Marewill.

One of them in particular stepped towards the two, pistol holstered on his belt. "You two cause a lot of trouble, you know."

Oh, yeah I wonder why-

"Maybe you shouldn't have tried to kill us then." Mark spat. The others around him reacted quickly, readying weapons to see if he would try anything. He backed off, still staring at the one of them who had spoken.

"Watch your tone. Or you'll end up like the Marksmen." The captor said, lifting his pistol out of it's holster, holding it at his side. "Move it." He pointed to the door. "At least your next cell will smell better." He wrinkled his nose. "Not sure why we picked at rusting barn, but whatever."

Mark began slowly moving towards the door, watching those around him warily.

Her face was red and wet, but her breathing was steady. It was possible it was just sweat from the heat of her hands.

Or maybe not.

She silently, painfully, went along with them.

[The Stormfather He/Him]

5 hours ago, Spark of Hope said:

Her face was red and wet, but her breathing was steady. It was possible it was just sweat from the heat of her hands.

Or maybe not.

She silently, painfully, went along with them.

Mark inched along, eventually stumbling and hitting the ground hard. His aluminum ‘gloves’ (no clue what these things are called but it’s a thing used in prisons for dangerous people to cover their hands idk) slamming hard against a pebble on the ground.

He was lifted to his feet by two of the guards. He did his best to hide his smirk, and hide the fact that there was now a decent in one of the aluminum cases.

He continued walking, wary of what the guards could do at any moment.

[Through the Living Hope]

10 hours ago, The Stormfather said:

Mark inched along, eventually stumbling and hitting the ground hard. His aluminum ‘gloves’ (no clue what these things are called but it’s a thing used in prisons for dangerous people to cover their hands idk) slamming hard against a pebble on the ground.

He was lifted to his feet by two of the guards. He did his best to hide his smirk, and hide the fact that there was now a decent in one of the aluminum cases.

He continued walking, wary of what the guards could do at any moment.

Marewill stayed silent but obedient. She was visibly nervous but tried to stay calm. 

[The Stormfather He/Him]

On 3/22/2025 at 9:58 AM, Spark of Hope said:

Marewill stayed silent but obedient. She was visibly nervous but tried to stay calm. 

The procession continued for several minutes, eventually leading them to a road with a group of (I don’t know whether it’s carriage times or car times) vehicles ready. They quickly loaded themselves in, putting Mark and Marewill in one with two guards up front and two behind.

They began moving.

They didn’t stop for about half an hour, eventually stopping. Some of the guards got out for a few minutes, and muffled conversation could be heard from outside, though too quiet to understand. Eventually, the guards got back in and kept driving.

And kept driving.

[Through the Living Hope]

1 minute ago, The Stormfather said:

The procession continued for several minutes, eventually leading them to a road with a group of (I don’t know whether it’s carriage times or car times) vehicles ready. They quickly loaded themselves in, putting Mark and Marewill in one with two guards up front and two behind.

They began moving.

They didn’t stop for about half an hour, eventually stopping. Some of the guards got out for a few minutes, and muffled conversation could be heard from outside, though too quiet to understand. Eventually, the guards got back in and kept driving.

And kept driving.

She pulled her knees to her chest and stayed silent. While she succeeded in holding her tears back, it was getting much harder to. 

[The Stormfather He/Him]

7 hours ago, Spark of Hope said:

She pulled her knees to her chest and stayed silent. While she succeeded in holding her tears back, it was getting much harder to. 

"Hey," Mark whispered. "We're gonna get out of this, okay? We'll go back to the house, get everything back to normal." A tear formed in Mark's eye. "We're gonna be fine."

Right?

Don't ask me. You got yourself into this.

Edited March 24, 2025 by The Stormfather

[Through the Living Hope]

Just now, The Stormfather said:

"Hey," Mark whispered. "We're gonna get out of this, okay? We'll go back to the house, get everything back to normal." A tear formed in Mark's eye. "We're gonna be fine."

Right?

Don't ask me. You got yourself into this.i

She closed her eyes. The first tear escaped. "Yeah," she said shakily. "We'll get home, it'll be fine..."

[The Stormfather He/Him]

On 3/24/2025 at 3:42 PM, Spark of Hope said:

She closed her eyes. The first tear escaped. "Yeah," she said shakily. "We'll get home, it'll be fine..."

Eventually, the carriages/cars/whatever pulled to a stop, and the guards slowly ushered Marewill and Mark out of the carriage/car/whatever.

They were at the construction site again, on the far side of it from their houses. The guards were much more wary now, and the site was mostly empty except for those who were armed and ready to fight. There would have been around fifty or so of them.

"So many.." 

The group was didn't make any other moves towards Mark or Marewill, though they did recheck the aluminum on Mark's hands.

"Waiting for something." Mark whispered to Mare.

[Through the Living Hope]

Just now, The Stormfather said:

Eventually, the carriages/cars/whatever pulled to a stop, and the guards slowly ushered Marewill and Mark out of the carriage/car/whatever.

They were at the construction site again, on the far side of it from their houses. The guards were much more wary now, and the site was mostly empty except for those who were armed and ready to fight. There would have been around fifty or so of them.

"So many.." 

The group was didn't make any other moves towards Mark or Marewill, though they did recheck the aluminum on Mark's hands.

"Waiting for something." Mark whispered to Mare.

She didn't show a response and stared at the ground in front of her. She'd lost the battle against her tears a while ago and still wasn't speaking.

[The Stormfather He/Him]

26 minutes ago, Spark of Hope said:

She didn't show a response and stared at the ground in front of her. She'd lost the battle against her tears a while ago and still wasn't speaking.

A minute went by, and then shouts went up around the guards, readying themselves as another car/carriage drove up and stopped beside the other.

Three people climbed out, two guarding one between them, who was...

"Oh, rusts."

He recognized that man. He had been there, when Mark had...

KILL. HIM. NOW.

When Mark had killed Sereine.

When he had ended the first part of his life.

He had charged in, quickly killing, or so he thought, her two guards. That face... A scar was still there from his dagger, where he had slashed him across the cheek with one knife and stabbed his gut with his other. He had never stopped to make sure he was dead.

And... He wasn't. He was here, with the Marksmen, or whatever these people called themselves.

Mark dropped to his knees, memories of that horrible night flashing through his head.

Some of the guards laughed, though many readied themselves, knowing what might be coming next.

DO IT!

Mark was barely able to oppose the Killer's words. He was going to die. Of that he was nearly certain. He may as well...

May as well what? Was punching one of them in the teeth as he died worth it? Would it change anything? Would going out in a blaze of not-so-glorious glory do anything other than get Marewill killed as well?

This was his problem. He wasn't about to get the others killed because of him. He needed to listen, to remember, to follow the holy ideals he had sworn in the worst moments of his life. Was killing them worth anything?

Mark! Let me through!

"NO!" He screamed, a feral scream from deep in his throat. "No! I will not do it! I am not a blood-hungry demon like you!"

Those around him backed away, shocked. A few had the intelligence to take aim on him, though most were simply intrigued by the troubled man.

Listen.

Remember.

How does listening and remembering get him out of this? The only way out was to fight, surely. There wasn't anything he could do but fight. He didn't have a choice!

I'm sorry. This is the only thing that can be done! Why do I always get into the positions where the only way out is to-

A thought flitted through his mind, one drawn from someone far back in his family history.

Arc had never fought, not really.

He had always found another way out. He had always schemed, talked, or persuaded his way out of everything. He had rarely had a weapon, but had always found a way through, until his bitter end.

You're thinking madness. How is talking going to get you-

Shut up. 

Mark lifted one foot up, slowly rising back up to his feet. The people around him stepped forwards, guns and knives at the ready. He turned a circle, locking eyes with every one of them.

"Is this really what you want to do?" He said. "Is this really what you want to have on your conscience?" He raised his voice.

"My conscience hasn't been clean since the rebellion." One of them spat. "I killed three men, just to get food for my child. It was you and yours who forced this. You and that stupid gang!"

Mark looked to the scarred man who had just arrived, and smirked. "The Steeles? They caused this? You might just be right about that."

He lifted one hand and pointed. "He was one of them! Before our joining, and before the whole world went wrong. He was part of a gang of spies, criminals and assassins. If you truly think that all of us deserve to die, he is as much responsible as me."

"I left that group long before the rebellion." He said. "After you murdered our leader. After you murdered my friend."

Mark bit his lip, furious. He wanted to protest. He wanted to scream for Sereine and the life he could have had. He wanted to shout and fight for the life he did have, with Astra. He wanted to let the Killer in to finish what he should have done nearly a decade ago.

He could tell that he was getting nowhere. He knew that all he was doing was making them mad.

So he stopped talking. He let them point guns and knives and anything heavy or pointed. 

He stopped.

And listened.

"You..." The scarred man started. "Do you.." He spent a moment thinking. "Do you really think that telling them that I was one of the Steeles would change anything? These people know me. I'm not one for hiding who I truly am to everyone around. Unlike yourself." He spat. "Do you think I don't remember what you become when you fight? Do you think I don't remember who you are when you show your true colors? What do you think I am, an idiot?"

Mark didn't say word, though he was clearly waiting for a response.

"Fine. Not going to talk? Well I think we've got plenty of things to say to you, right?" There were agreements and affirmations from the others around him. "Well tell him. Tell him what he did-"

"Has there ever been a more self-centered group in all of history? Yes, okay, the rebellion changed your lives for the worse. But how many of you are there, fifty? A hundred? It wouldn't matter if there were a thousand of you. The rebellion did more good than harm. What would you rather? Your family, friends, whoever it was, still be alive, or have ninety-nine percent of all people on the brink of starvation and death every single day? Have you spent a single moment thinking that maybe you were the outliers, the odd ones out whom the cosmic scale tipped against? Have you ever thought for one second abou- Scratch that, have you ever thought? Because I'm genuinely curious. If any of you had half a wit you'd be able to realize that the rebellion was needed. The world was never going to advance if we had never rebelled against our bonds, pushed against what was in place to bring goodness back into the general populace." Mark took a breath.

"You should have the basic logical thinking to see that our lives are better than before. Was there any technological advancement being made before? No, it was just people watching others kill each other on a TV. Now, though, those weapons you have can be obtained much easier. Allomancers can find metals, which I know personally was a problem before. Stormlight is available to those who can use it, not like before. We live in a changed world, one that could not have changed if it wasn't for the workings of the rebellion and the Steeles."

Not a single person even contemplated his words. One of them chuckled.

I would be slow-clapping right now if I had hands.

The scarred man looked at Mark oddly. "Do you really think that a speech is going to suddenly change anything? Do you think that a few words can blot out years of pain? Do you know what it feels like to have everyone who you ever cared about die because of you? Can you begin to imagin-"

"I cared about one person. And I killed her. The same day I thought I killed you. Then most of the Rusted died. And then we had to kill Quelkin. If you had to kill one of the only people who'd ever shown you sympathy and their only request was that you stopped the capitol in the end, that you brought about a rebellion, would you not do it? Do you not believe that honoring the wishes of the dead is important?"

"Is it worth it, if one dead person wishes for the death of dozens? Hundreds? What if each of them wish for the same? Are we supposed to honor those wishes until there's no one left?"

Mark glared at him, but didn't respond. He could tell that most of the people around him were transfixed by the debate, though not a one looked contemplative in the least on what he had said.

Quote

Whoo, that's a long post.

Oh, shoot. It's still going. Welp.

A few moments passed between them, both glaring at each other.

Eventually, Mark spoke. "Was it worth it? Was killing me worth the lives that were needed to do it? I killed eleven men back there, who could've been alive if you hadn't developed this grudge."

"They wouldn't have had to die if you just did what all tributes are supposed to have done and simply die."

"It's basic human nature to rebel against any cage put around us."

"And common human patterns when they develop irrational grudges and act on them. So can you really blame me?"

"So you admit it's irrational?"

"No, I-"

"So you admit that you don't actually blame me, you just needed to feel some form of fulfillment or vengeance for the death of your close ones?"

"You assume a lot, Mark,"

"I assume nothing. I say that which I am certain of. Did you not earlier say that fulfilling the wishes of every dead person for the death of another would lead to the world dying? Can the same not be said for vengeance? If you kill the person who killed your friend, and one of my friends kills you for it, will the cycle not continue endlessly?"

the scarred man paused.

Now! Now's your chance!

No.

He felt supreme confusion from the Killer.

The enemy took a moment to take a measure of Mark's body, which had unconsciously moved into a stance fit for a sword-fighter or fencer, side facing the man with hands up.

"You want this to end, then, don't you? Tired of all the deaths and the rage, the vengeance that, as you reason, will never end?"

"Yes. Would any reasonable person not want an end to this?"

"That's where you've erred. I am far from reasonable, not after what I've been through." He lifted a pistol towards Mark. "Let's end this."

Mark dove to the side as a single gunshot rang out across the city. The bullet struck the ground in a puff of dust.

The scarred man looked at Mark, shocked at his prediction of the gunshot. "Wh-"

Mark dropped to his knees, feigning a vulnerable pose in front of the man, and his already dented aluminum 'glove' clanked against the ground once again. He sighed as it stayed together.

He stared down the barrel of the gun. He could see the man's finger twitching, wanting to pull the trigger.

Words flitted through his head, holy words that he had once spoken. And ones that he had yet to speak, not yet formulated in his mind.

The man in front of him was sweating. 

"Never killed anyone, have you?"

"Shut up!"

"It stays with you. Haunts you wherever you end up."

Mark dove to the side, anticipating a shot.

It didn't come.

The man was trembling.

 

[Through the Living Hope]

13 minutes ago, The Stormfather said:

A minute went by, and then shouts went up around the guards, readying themselves as another car/carriage drove up and stopped beside the other.

Three people climbed out, two guarding one between them, who was...

"Oh, rusts."

He recognized that man. He had been there, when Mark had...

KILL. HIM. NOW.

When Mark had killed Sereine.

When he had ended the first part of his life.

He had charged in, quickly killing, or so he thought, her two guards. That face... A scar was still there from his dagger, where he had slashed him across the cheek with one knife and stabbed his gut with his other. He had never stopped to make sure he was dead.

And... He wasn't. He was here, with the Marksmen, or whatever these people called themselves.

Mark dropped to his knees, memories of that horrible night flashing through his head.

Some of the guards laughed, though many readied themselves, knowing what might be coming next.

DO IT!

Mark was barely able to oppose the Killer's words. He was going to die. Of that he was nearly certain. He may as well...

May as well what? Was punching one of them in the teeth as he died worth it? Would it change anything? Would going out in a blaze of not-so-glorious glory do anything other than get Marewill killed as well?

This was his problem. He wasn't about to get the others killed because of him. He needed to listen, to remember, to follow the holy ideals he had sworn in the worst moments of his life. Was killing them worth anything?

Mark! Let me through!

"NO!" He screamed, a feral scream from deep in his throat. "No! I will not do it! I am not a blood-hungry demon like you!"

Those around him backed away, shocked. A few had the intelligence to take aim on him, though most were simply intrigued by the troubled man.

Listen.

Remember.

How does listening and remembering get him out of this? The only way out was to fight, surely. There wasn't anything he could do but fight. He didn't have a choice!

I'm sorry. This is the only thing that can be done! Why do I always get into the positions where the only way out is to-

A thought flitted through his mind, one drawn from someone far back in his family history.

Arc had never fought, not really.

He had always found another way out. He had always schemed, talked, or persuaded his way out of everything. He had rarely had a weapon, but had always found a way through, until his bitter end.

You're thinking madness. How is talking going to get you-

Shut up. 

Mark lifted one foot up, slowly rising back up to his feet. The people around him stepped forwards, guns and knives at the ready. He turned a circle, locking eyes with every one of them.

"Is this really what you want to do?" He said. "Is this really what you want to have on your conscience?" He raised his voice.

"My conscience hasn't been clean since the rebellion." One of them spat. "I killed three men, just to get food for my child. It was you and yours who forced this. You and that stupid gang!"

Mark looked to the scarred man who had just arrived, and smirked. "The Steeles? They caused this? You might just be right about that."

He lifted one hand and pointed. "He was one of them! Before our joining, and before the whole world went wrong. He was part of a gang of spies, criminals and assassins. If you truly think that all of us deserve to die, he is as much responsible as me."

"I left that group long before the rebellion." He said. "After you murdered our leader. After you murdered my friend."

Mark bit his lip, furious. He wanted to protest. He wanted to scream for Sereine and the life he could have had. He wanted to shout and fight for the life he did have, with Astra. He wanted to let the Killer in to finish what he should have done nearly a decade ago.

He could tell that he was getting nowhere. He knew that all he was doing was making them mad.

So he stopped talking. He let them point guns and knives and anything heavy or pointed. 

He stopped.

And listened.

"You..." The scarred man started. "Do you.." He spent a moment thinking. "Do you really think that telling them that I was one of the Steeles would change anything? These people know me. I'm not one for hiding who I truly am to everyone around. Unlike yourself." He spat. "Do you think I don't remember what you become when you fight? Do you think I don't remember who you are when you show your true colors? What do you think I am, an idiot?"

Mark didn't say word, though he was clearly waiting for a response.

"Fine. Not going to talk? Well I think we've got plenty of things to say to you, right?" There were agreements and affirmations from the others around him. "Well tell him. Tell him what he did-"

"Has there ever been a more self-centered group in all of history? Yes, okay, the rebellion changed your lives for the worse. But how many of you are there, fifty? A hundred? It wouldn't matter if there were a thousand of you. The rebellion did more good than harm. What would you rather? Your family, friends, whoever it was, still be alive, or have ninety-nine percent of all people on the brink of starvation and death every single day? Have you spent a single moment thinking that maybe you were the outliers, the odd ones out whom the cosmic scale tipped against? Have you ever thought for one second abou- Scratch that, have you ever thought? Because I'm genuinely curious. If any of you had half a wit you'd be able to realize that the rebellion was needed. The world was never going to advance if we had never rebelled against our bonds, pushed against what was in place to bring goodness back into the general populace." Mark took a breath.

"You should have the basic logical thinking to see that our lives are better than before. Was there any technological advancement being made before? No, it was just people watching others kill each other on a TV. Now, though, those weapons you have can be obtained much easier. Allomancers can find metals, which I know personally was a problem before. Stormlight is available to those who can use it, not like before. We live in a changed world, one that could not have changed if it wasn't for the workings of the rebellion and the Steeles."

Not a single person even contemplated his words. One of them chuckled.

I would be slow-clapping right now if I had hands.

The scarred man looked at Mark oddly. "Do you really think that a speech is going to suddenly change anything? Do you think that a few words can blot out years of pain? Do you know what it feels like to have everyone who you ever cared about die because of you? Can you begin to imagin-"

"I cared about one person. And I killed her. The same day I thought I killed you. Then most of the Rusted died. And then we had to kill Quelkin. If you had to kill one of the only people who'd ever shown you sympathy and their only request was that you stopped the capitol in the end, that you brought about a rebellion, would you not do it? Do you not believe that honoring the wishes of the dead is important?"

"Is it worth it, if one dead person wishes for the death of dozens? Hundreds? What if each of them wish for the same? Are we supposed to honor those wishes until there's no one left?"

Mark glared at him, but didn't respond. He could tell that most of the people around him were transfixed by the debate, though not a one looked contemplative in the least on what he had said.

A few moments passed between them, both glaring at each other.

Eventually, Mark spoke. "Was it worth it? Was killing me worth the lives that were needed to do it? I killed eleven men back there, who could've been alive if you hadn't developed this grudge."

"They wouldn't have had to die if you just did what all tributes are supposed to have done and simply die."

"It's basic human nature to rebel against any cage put around us."

"And common human patterns when they develop irrational grudges and act on them. So can you really blame me?"

"So you admit it's irrational?"

"No, I-"

"So you admit that you don't actually blame me, you just needed to feel some form of fulfillment or vengeance for the death of your close ones?"

"You assume a lot, Mark,"

"I assume nothing. I say that which I am certain of. Did you not earlier say that fulfilling the wishes of every dead person for the death of another would lead to the world dying? Can the same not be said for vengeance? If you kill the person who killed your friend, and one of my friends kills you for it, will the cycle not continue endlessly?"

the scarred man paused.

Now! Now's your chance!

No.

He felt supreme confusion from the Killer.

The enemy took a moment to take a measure of Mark's body, which had unconsciously moved into a stance fit for a sword-fighter or fencer, side facing the man with hands up.

"You want this to end, then, don't you? Tired of all the deaths and the rage, the vengeance that, as you reason, will never end?"

"Yes. Would any reasonable person not want an end to this?"

"That's where you've erred. I am far from reasonable, not after what I've been through." He lifted a pistol towards Mark. "Let's end this."

Mark dove to the side as a single gunshot rang out across the city. The bullet struck the ground in a puff of dust.

The scarred man looked at Mark, shocked at his prediction of the gunshot. "Wh-"

Mark dropped to his knees, feigning a vulnerable pose in front of the man, and his already dented aluminum 'glove' clanked against the ground once again. He sighed as it stayed together.

He stared down the barrel of the gun. He could see the man's finger twitching, wanting to pull the trigger.

Words flitted through his head, holy words that he had once spoken. And ones that he had yet to speak, not yet formulated in his mind.

The man in front of him was sweating. 

"Never killed anyone, have you?"

"Shut up!"

"It stays with you. Haunts you wherever you end up."

Mark dove to the side, anticipating a shot.

It didn't come.

The man was trembling.

 

Even Mare barely registered most of his words. Her eyes were full of terror. She put a hand in her pocket on the photo she’d been sent in the arena. Mom, Meron, Lily. They needed her then. Her eyes closed, releasing more tears. She needed them now. 

[The Stormfather He/Him]

On 3/26/2025 at 5:25 PM, Spark of Hope said:

Even Mare barely registered most of his words. Her eyes were full of terror. She put a hand in her pocket on the photo she’d been sent in the arena. Mom, Meron, Lily. They needed her then. Her eyes closed, releasing more tears. She needed them now. 

Mark stepped up to the shaking man, slowly easing his gun arm to point away from him.

"You don't have to do this," He murmured. "Your life is not yet consigned to crime and murder. You can leave, forget this, and live an actual life."

He shoved Mark back away from him. "Get off of me, murdurer!"

Mark fell back, twisting one hand below him to clank against the ground once more. He felt pain jolt through his arm, and winced.

But he also felt the aluminum casing weaken, dented and battered. He lifted that hand up and slammed it on the ground, feigning rage. His hand was aching from the repeated bashing, but he wasn't about to lay down and die.

The aluminum case popped off on the next hit. Guns were raised towards him immediately.

A Shardblade appeared in his hands, a large, four-foot broadsword in his one hand.

"Like I said, you don't have to do this." He turned back to Marewill and mouthed 'run'

[Through the Living Hope]

21 minutes ago, The Stormfather said:

Mark stepped up to the shaking man, slowly easing his gun arm to point away from him.

"You don't have to do this," He murmured. "Your life is not yet consigned to crime and murder. You can leave, forget this, and live an actual life."

He shoved Mark back away from him. "Get off of me, murdurer!"

Mark fell back, twisting one hand below him to clank against the ground once more. He felt pain jolt through his arm, and winced.

But he also felt the aluminum casing weaken, dented and battered. He lifted that hand up and slammed it on the ground, feigning rage. His hand was aching from the repeated bashing, but he wasn't about to lay down and die.

The aluminum case popped off on the next hit. Guns were raised towards him immediately.

A Shardblade appeared in his hands, a large, four-foot broadsword in his one hand.

"Like I said, you don't have to do this." He turned back to Marewill and mouthed 'run'

Her eyes widened and she backed away slowly, watching the Marksmen. 

[The Stormfather He/Him]

On 3/29/2025 at 10:20 AM, Spark of Hope said:

Her eyes widened and she backed away slowly, watching the Marksmen. 

Mark held his Shardblade out in front of him, slowly rotating around to lock eyes with each of the people around him.

”If you take the shots right now, some of you are going to die. Some of you will lay on the ground with burned eyes. Is it worth it? Is vengeance so important that you will throw away your life for it?” He began turning himself oddly, with unpredictable movements and quick steps. 

“If one of you tries to shoot me right now, I won’t get killed by it. Maybe it’ll hit me, but I’ll sure as hell have enough time to plant a Shardblade in someone’s chest before I go.” Mark started backing away, following Marewill. “You let us go now, disband this messed up group, maybe you wont spend the rest of your life in a prison.”

They kept their guns pointed at him, but none of them took the shot. They all looked to others to finish him.

[Through the Living Hope]

2 hours ago, The Stormfather said:

Mark held his Shardblade out in front of him, slowly rotating around to lock eyes with each of the people around him.

”If you take the shots right now, some of you are going to die. Some of you will lay on the ground with burned eyes. Is it worth it? Is vengeance so important that you will throw away your life for it?” He began turning himself oddly, with unpredictable movements and quick steps. 

“If one of you tries to shoot me right now, I won’t get killed by it. Maybe it’ll hit me, but I’ll sure as hell have enough time to plant a Shardblade in someone’s chest before I go.” Mark started backing away, following Marewill. “You let us go now, disband this messed up group, maybe you wont spend the rest of your life in a prison.”

They kept their guns pointed at him, but none of them took the shot. They all looked to others to finish him.

“Mark,” she muttered, “I’m not sure this is a safe idea.”

[The Stormfather He/Him]

3 hours ago, Spark of Hope said:

“Mark,” she muttered, “I’m not sure this is a safe idea.”

"Have we been safe since we were captured?"

[Through the Living Hope]

1 minute ago, The Stormfather said:

"Have we been safe since we were captured?"

“Fair point.”

[The Stormfather He/Him]

1 minute ago, Spark of Hope said:

“Fair point.”

Mark continued slowly backing away, keeping an eye on the gunmen.

Quote

Do you know whether the vehicle would be a car or a carriage? I'm really not sure considering the gaps in their tech and the extreme HG arena technology.

 

[Through the Living Hope]

1 minute ago, The Stormfather said:

Mark continued slowly backing away, keeping an eye on the gunmen.

 

Quote

Early automobiles

 

[The Stormfather He/Him]

On 3/30/2025 at 4:43 PM, Rick A said:

 

Mark continued backing away, slowly enough, though some of the men’s around them started circling him, trapping him in once more, though, with a much larger circle.

[Through the Living Hope]

11 minutes ago, The Stormfather said:

Mark continued backing away, slowly enough, though some of the men’s around them started circling him, trapping him in once more, though, with a much larger circle.

“Mark…” she muttered. 

[The Stormfather He/Him]

2 hours ago, Spark of Hope said:

“Mark…” she muttered. 

Mark sighed. “What else can we do? Lay down and die?”

[Through the Living Hope]

2 minutes ago, The Stormfather said:

Mark sighed. “What else can we do? Lay down and die?”

Quote

It wasn't a "stop" Mark it was a "be careful and please don't die" Mark

 

[The Stormfather He/Him]

10 minutes ago, Spark of Hope said:

 

Quote

Ah.

can I retcon the last post then?

and respond with something appropriate to that tone of voice?