#muse: rage

[private-rp]

"Let me get those off you" - Gwen to Rage

Being this particular arena’s champion had not been his choice, but when the choice was to fight for the money needed to keep his only family safe and healthy or to let them die... Well, it was hardly much of a choice at all was it? It was a pretty shitty deal but a deal nonetheless. Each time he fought and won, a portion of the winnings would be sent to them. Each time he lost? No payment would be given and he would be locked in his cell to think about what he had done. This was the first time he had lost in a long while, and only because he had become so distracted by the one called Lady Morgana, who was later to be revealed as none other than the Lady Morgana’s handmaiden instead. It wasn’t often there were women in the audience, if ever for that matter. So becoming distracted for a mere moment, the other opponent had managed to get a decent hit in, knocking him out. He felt awful, not for losing, but that a beautiful woman had had to witness such barbarity in the first place. He didn’t like fighting in front of women. 

Sulking in his cell, he hadn’t even heard her approach or even escape her own cell until she was kneeling in front of him. She could hear others with her, insisting that she leave him behind; but that didn’t seem to sway her at all, instead she played with the cuffs at his wrists and fumbled with the keys she had taken from one of the guards in her escape. Dark blue eyes looked up at her from his sitting position and blinked in surprise. Why the hell was she here? Why was she helping him? She didn’t even know him. 

“You...” He mumbled, recognising her as the face he had seen mere seconds before he had been knocked out cold. But before he could continue his sentence, more guards came running just as she managed to pull away the cuffs. Standing, his hulking form towered over both her and her comrades as he pushed past them, grabbing one of the guards arms as he swung his sword down at Gwen before lifting him and throwing him into his group; toppling them like bowling pins. Though still in pain, he merely rolled his shoulders with a grunt and turned to the shocked group behind him. 

“We going then?” He asked, a slight grin playing at his lips.

[anarchyfound]

@ottodeo Thranduil & Rage

The rhythm of metal thumping against wood echoed throughout the Kingdom of Mirkwood, a melody heard only by the man holding the axe between strong and calloused hands, muscles flexing and tensing each time he brought it above his head to strike it down. Sweat across his brow, his eyes focused only on the task he had been given, chopped logs thrown uncerimoniously to the side of him in a barely recognisable pile he would no doubt have to sort out later on. 

He had long since discarded his shirt as it had begun to stick to his back in an uncomfortable manner, now using it as a cloth for his face instead as finished throwing down the axe once again. He paused then, forcing the head of the axe into the stump the logs had been sitting. He grunted and stretched his large body, catching a few Elven woman staring at him from the corner of his eye which then ran upon his seeing them. He chuckled, clearing his throat and wiping down his face and neck with the black fabric of his discarded shirt. Looking at the work he had done, he was almost done but he decided then it was best to take a break and sitting down upon the ground with a grunt he reached for a small bottle that he had filled with water that morning. 

He yawned after a moment, his body relaxing just a little too much. Hell, he had actually started dozing off when Thranduil showed up, the Elf that had been so kind to the group as to let them stay, despite them all being human. Seeing the sharp blue eyes of the other so close to him when he groggily opened his own had him jumping up, startled.

“Shit!” He pulled himself to his feet, not particularly appreciating the surprise. However, when he realised just who it was that was in front of him he visibly relaxed, letting out a breathless chuckle and resting his hands on his knees.He shook his head. 

“Don’t sneak up on a man like that,” He breathed, standing straight and rolling his stiff shoulders “Nearly made my heart jump out my chest”.

[anarchyfound]

continued from here

@hoflichkeit

The rottweiler stared at the little kai with keen interest. His head tilted left and right as he was spoken to and as a hand was offered to him he couldn’t help but push his head forward and lick his fingers. Though he may have been human once, he had to say he didn’t quite mind being a dog. It was a nice life, comfortable and kind. God knows he was spoiled rotten by his misfit family. But perhaps it was the power he sensed from this strange looking man that attracted him to him so.

The mention of his eye had the panting rottie stop and tilt his head for a moment, as if in thought. He wondered if he might communicate with the other. None of his charges were nearby after all. Blinking with his single eye, he sat proper but couldn’t help the little sway of his tail. He’d prepared himself to speak, using his mind; it was an ability he had been given by those that helped him. But before he could, he heard the bellowing voice of perhaps his favourite charge.

You’ve got a great timing, Rage... He thought to himself 

“Tyson!” The roaring of an Irish accent came as a rather large, muscular man came jogging up, hair short and an outrageous red “There you are, you had me worried sick you silly mutt!”. He paused though, however, when he noted Shin sitting on the ground in front of his dog. He suddenly became a little sheepish. He knew a breed of dog like this... A lot of people didn’t like them. “He didn’t scare you, did he?” He asked, eyes looking worried as he rubbed his dog’s ears “I promise he doesn’t bite, he’s just a big softie”.

[anarchyfound]

Rage's drumming skills!