Tw: Death - Blog Posts
Hey soo I'm making this fic about immortal Cody since I have a hyperfiction on making my favorite characters experience death a lot and making immortal but I can't decide whether to do each death a chapter but make like 1 then 5 then 10 or make all deaths per chapter or do a couple deaths in one chapter
Please let me know what to do. I also accidentally posted my story on ao3 so it isn't even close to finishing it like at all
You should talk about your wof ocs :3
oh boy I got so excited to share my characters that I wrote a short story that takes place at the very beginning of my oc's lore. I'll put the character references at the end
Queen Treefrog was a young rainwing Queen, she had been in power for two weeks when she started acting odd. Leopard, a half nightwing dragonet was the first to notice the change. Treefrog had started doing things that just, didn’t make sense. She assigned battle training to the rainwing school lessons…claiming it was for the good of the tribe. Despite the fact that the rainwings have been at peace with all other tribes for longer than Leopard could remember.
She looked a bit off too, as if a different shade of blue than normal…but everyone told him that she was the same colors and that Leopard must just not remember it right. She had a new scar even though she’d never got into any fights. Leopard could swear her patterns were different!
No matter how many differences Leopard pointed out, nobody believed him. The rainwings assumed the young hybrid was just paranoid. Leopard felt like he was going crazy, something was wrong and nobody else noticed! He decided to follow the Queen that night. She often left to patrol the rainforest at sundown. It proved difficult since he was unable to change his scale color, luckily the sunset helped him stick to the shadows.
His little spy mission led him to a rather hard to find clearing. There was the Queen, standing in front of a corpse. Whoever it was had clearly decomposed a bit, Leopard had to fight his urge to gag. He couldn’t tell who it was. After a few moments Treefrog started to leave the clearing. As his Queen left curiosity flooded Leopard’s mind, he wanted to know who the dead rainwing was. Was it a criminal? Competition for the throne? Someone Treefrog just didn’t like? Upon closer inspection, he froze.
Lying dead in front of Leopard’s own eyes, was Queen Treefrog.
Queen Treefrog's reference
The faker's reference
Leopard's reference
Arctic's death from Darkstalker, I hope you like it this is my first time trying to draw gore. Hopefully it isn't too graphic since the blood is blue
Vague spoilers for sunrise on the reaping
Tw: slight gore, character death
Not actually any like direct spoilers but mentions book topics. Peeta centric
I keep seeing people talking about the body doubles and Peeta and how scared haymitch might have been and first - how do we like actually know it’s not? It’s probably not cause Lou Lou was a not great replacement but they had 25 years to change it -
But I listened to the winner takes it all and got an idea and idk if I have the time or energy to write it but fuck me man -
Peeta who did get replaced. Who is dying and betrayed them and fighting with the last bit of him who only ever wanted to be himself being sat in front of a pale, hallowed blond boy who looks just enough like him to make him pause. The boy who has no name who they say has to become him, who he fights but it hurts them both and slowly, slowly Peeta gives up bits of himself to put this boy back together because it’s always been easier to live for someone else but could he die for someone else? Someone that’s not her??
And being the boy with the bread, feeding and nourishing this boy with a puffy, stitched mime of his face. Slowly realizing he doesn’t leave this but Katniss could still have him, he could still send something, and this boy taking his shape. Telling him you love her you would die for her she’s everything please - until this not-him is a little-bit-him. He’s losing himself, he only wanted to die himself, and is this the perfect poetic end of giving himself a chance to live or the despairing tragedy of how that only hope dies?
Peeta dies and his blood sprays across this boy that’s not him and not his blood and maybe a district 1 defect from another world (oh what his father would say) but maybe they are now cause there’s no separation, just the lost little blond boy who went too far from home.
Ngl with winner takes it all on this felt like a very bloody, very what’s left of you when they gave it all away? concept
Cause then what? Do they notice? Will they let themselves? Does katniss know there’s something wrong past the obvious and realize or does she love him because to not is too much a betrayal for all he lost for her? Does haymitch see his sweetheart with too-sharp cheekbones and accept the loss? Does he spiral, wondering if he’s finally too far gone?
Maybe this is too niche I’m not sure this is worth posting but it was a bad day and here comes the word vomit -
All of you probably don't know this. But I am a multifandom person (I'm in multiple fandoms) and my main fandom is Sonic the Hedgehog... And he is the main character of my big series: Chronicles of The Universe...
Now this is a really fun AU I like to have fun with, because there is a tone of lore and I am here to explain it all (I have no idea how that rhymed) Sonic has the ability to travel into different fandoms (Amphibia, The Owl House, ect.)
But the first fandom he went to was My Little Pony! My childhood show (I still love it to this day!)
The reason he first went there is because Sonic had murdered all of his friends (basically all of the characters ik), and he had to learn the path of redemption, you all are probably wondering "oh, what about Hazbin Hotel!?" No, my OC, Multi-Sonic, the god of the Multiverse chose MLP because it would give Sonic a chance to learn friendship... Here are my headcanon friendships for Sonic. Exe and Fleetway and Sonic himself:
Sonic - Twilight Sparkle (two strong protagonists and I think they would get along very well)
Sonic. Exe - Rarity (he would be a great person to be friends with her as he would help her in the boutique)
Fleetway - Pinkie Pie (two Chaotic characters, they would be perfect for each other in friendship)!
Shadow - Fluttershy (she would remind him of Cream back at Mobius)
---
I hope you like this AU!
Brianna Ghey’s murder hurts.
She was the same age as my kid, just walking home along her usual path. Two other kids have been arrested on suspicion of her murder.
The UK media (in particular the Daily Mail and The Times) are deadnaming her or refusing to acknowledge her status as a trans girl.
The police are very keen to gloss over any suggestion that she was murdered due to being trans, despite people from her school (parents and pupils) raising serious safeguarding concerns.
Brianna shouldn’t have died, and if it is found that she was killed by anti-trans extremists, I hope every single terf, gender critical, transphobic, nasty piece of work (and we all know who the main cheerleaders of them are) feel sick to the pit of their stomachs. Brianna’s blood will be on their hands.
Sleep well, sweet girl.
Mary and Son
I really liked Mouthwashing’s whole story arc between Anya and Curly with the whole [redacted] debacle, so I decided to take a piece from my childhood religion and doodle a little thing with them!
Reference under the cut!
Toothache
Mirror mirror why do you show
The train that can’t be coming that slow
I feel the rumbling under my feet, in my bones and in my teeth
Mirror mirror why do you lie
Showing me a girl when I can’t fly
I feel the ache, the tears and all I’ve ate
Mirror mirror why have you forsaken me
Why don’t you show me what I could see
I see your cracks and blood and flack
Mirror mirror what have you done
What can I do to make us one
I see them here, dead and free
Why do I see them in your face, but only death stares in my place
Hi! Op Loki here in the explain-inator! Welcome those who are curious enough to step foot into the ‘keep reading’ box! I suffer from insomnia and occasional hallucinations during said insomnia episodes, which often can be somewhat useful in helping me pinpoint which part of my mental state caused this little bout of insomnia. Recently (for when I wrote this) I’ve been suffering from bodily autonomy issues due to my education’s strict policies and many people demanding my time and effort for their own conveniences. I usually have a hard time saying no to these people because they’re usually closer to me, and it got to the point where it was like ‘hold on a minute, this is *deadname*, not Legion/Loki’. When I thought about myself. And, well, the hallucination wanted to highlight the unstoppable passage of time, my autonomy issues, and the inherent dysphoria that comes with being LGBT in general. And, to do that, it chose time, mirrors, and vampires. But who am I to question- would this be Apollo? Thanks, Apollo, ik I’m still new to worship, but this helped. A lot. And Ares, for giving me the strength to fight.
Mutiny
(My gods Tumblr ate the quality- click for better quality I guess?)
https://youtu.be/oyAP6PpAzK8?feature=shared this is what popped into my head tbh
Warning: Major major one piece spoilers of wano and egghead!!!!!
Tw: death & blood
The idea of luffy’s vivre card flash-banging sabo in that pitch black bilge is making me laugh so much
Bonuses:
Full pic of that last page👇
Here’s the full pic of this since it being a gif absolutely tanked the quality of the image.
i don’t think ive posted actual writing on here before but omg hi guys!!!! i just cooked some mcd aaron angst ^_^ there’s a few grammar mistakes that i’m too lazy to fix rn cause it’s almost 12am here so ignore those haha
The Way I'm Sure Mice Are Meant To Die
I'm not always sure what God's I worship
I'm not always sure of my own morals
I'm not always sure of my theories of the afterlife
But something I am sure of and always have been is my belief in mother earth
And my hatred of cruel glue traps
I know the mice are not meant to be here
If I were fast enough to catch them to release I would
But I know I am not
So if it must come to a trap I will use something that is fast
Because between a quick bullet to the brain execution or a long tortureous death of struggle and starvation
I think all of us would choose the first choice
Mind you this creature is dying for such a petty crime
Just trying to survive somewhere they don't even know they shouldn't be
When it's over I'll bury him
The mouse in my room that will soon be in a trap that I've set
And I'll feel bad for murdering something more innocent than my own kind
But I will feel better knowing he did not suffer
And that I return him to the earth from which he came
Become throwing a creature of earth
of flesh and bone once granted life
Into layers of plastic with the pollution bound for a graveyard of garbage
It feels so wrong
Even as a child I knew that
It goes against all nature and worse starves earth of her meal
It's take with no true give
I'll likely repeat this to deaf ears of family
When they find me digging a hole for a pest
If I had a choice I'd be buried with no coffin
But I know I don't
So all I can do is hope for the cheapest one
Made of the softest wood
Something easy to rot
I'd rather not keep mother earth waiting long for her meal
For now I'll give her back the small mouse that wandered away from her to my own den
And hope she sees his death not as unatural cruelty but as predator sharing prey
The way I'm sure mice are meant to die
.................................
"A Rule of Fear"
I really wanted to play around with the framing device in this story, as I liked imagining the air of mystery that Defiance cultivated while they existed. I don't know who the unnamed narrator in this story is, it can be you if you want.
However with this framing device, I do understand that some of the details may be a little hard to glean, so here's a quick summary of everything that happened with Defiance. Deepdark got chronic wasting disease by eating the crow that had eaten Wild Rose, and at the end of his life he asked Prowl to kill him so he wouldn't die from the disease. In doing so he also killed Prowl, and after their deaths Defiance collapsed into chaos and became destroyed. Spike and Fang left to their own devices, but occasionally visit Deepdark and Prowl's gravesite, and Ranger and Hacksaw left for a nearby town to terrorize housepets.
A couple cameo characters appear from Issue 28, which I've used here in the panel on Page 2. Please refer to Issue 28 for user credits.
Shoutout to Deepdark for being one of my favorite characters I've ever written. He really was a blast to create, and I love how many people responded to his brand of overdramatic evil. Fly high, my freak. I'm planning to create a short comic about his childhood at some point, but I don't know when it'll be. Just be on the lookout!
The title for this story comes from Theodore Sturgeon's "Microcosmic God": “So he instituted a rule of fear. The most trivial departure from what he chose to consider the right way of doing things resulted in instant death of half a tribe.”
Previous < > Next
reblog to teleport your mutuals to a massive party when jkr dies
I saw your color palette name and I’m not sure if you’ve lost someone, but I’m sorry if you did.
I did, and it's part of why I'm a bit less active on my socials than I was. I didn't want time to just leave him behind, so when I went outside and saw the sun for the first time in what felt like forever, and honestly was a long time as winter tends to be a very dark time of year, I made up my mind that I'd rather have something inspiring dedicated to him, and the palette was one of those things. I also have been slowly working on attempting to draw out some of the memories I have, which has put me behind on some of the art I'm supposed to be doing. He had done so much for me. I do appreciate those reaching out, though. That being said, I wasn't sure if I should respond to it all, so I opted to respond to one, to at least acknowledge those who did reach out between then and now, as it's a bit hard still, even though it's been over half a year now. I promise I'm not ignoring anyone.
it's atom's birthday should do a top 10 truck count down
Self promo don worry about it
I realized I've been beating myself up with the thought that I can't write unless it's for something, and its clean and finished, which isn't good. This is my first step to try and get out of that!
Rise Raph × reader angst!
Red Red Red
Word count: 363
°•.•°
Your vision blurred, the bright things brighter from the cold that teased the edges of your eyelids but didn't dare fall. The pain had been so much just moments before, but too much morphed into nothing, either thanks to shock or something else. You flinched and turned away from an impact you heard to your left, only for light to breach the rubble that had you trapped.
"Softy!"
You recognized that gruff voice, even further recognized the red masked face that looked at yours.
"Hey, Raphie," you murmured, only for the use of your voice to push discomfort up your throat until you coughed it out.
Raphs eyes looked so small, so scared, focused lower on your body rather than your face. You hated seeing him so uneasy. He was rarely free of unease. You felt so bad for doing this to him.
His hand must have touched you, as the buzzing ache turned sharp and ripped a screech from your chest. He pulled his hand away immediately, eyes glancing to the red you saw painting his skin, only for him to instead look at your face. You wondered, same as him, how you were the one so calm in this moment. Tears fell from his eyes, fat and wet and soaking his mask a similar color to his hand.
"I-I can't- not you," he begged, your name coming out a strangled sound.
"You won't," you replied, doing your best to smile just to sell it. He didn't say he didn't believe you.
His hand, painted in red, colored your skin and hair as he brushed his thumb on your cheek. You leaned into his touch, your tears finally falling aswell. It surprised you when his lips crashed into yours.
And he smothered you, and you wanted nothing more. Your lips moved against his like it'd be the last time, knowing it'd be the last time, desperately trying to convey just how much you love him. He returned it with an even greater level of care, trying to convey just how much he needed you.
Everything faded away in that kiss. The world, the pain, sight and sound and touch.
Raph sobbed alone.
I realized I've been beating myself up with the thought that I can't write unless it's for something, and its clean and finished, which isn't good. This is my first step to try and get out of that!
Rise Raph × reader angst!
Red Red Red
Word count: 363
°•.•°
Your vision blurred, the bright things brighter from the cold that teased the edges of your eyelids but didn't dare fall. The pain had been so much just moments before, but too much morphed into nothing, either thanks to shock or something else. You flinched and turned away from an impact you heard to your left, only for light to breach the rubble that had you trapped.
"Softy!"
You recognized that gruff voice, even further recognized the red masked face that looked at yours.
"Hey, Raphie," you murmured, only for the use of your voice to push discomfort up your throat until you coughed it out.
Raphs eyes looked so small, so scared, focused lower on your body rather than your face. You hated seeing him so uneasy. He was rarely free of unease. You felt so bad for doing this to him.
His hand must have touched you, as the buzzing ache turned sharp and ripped a screech from your chest. He pulled his hand away immediately, eyes glancing to the red you saw painting his skin, only for him to instead look at your face. You wondered, same as him, how you were the one so calm in this moment. Tears fell from his eyes, fat and wet and soaking his mask a similar color to his hand.
"I-I can't- not you," he begged, your name coming out a strangled sound.
"You won't," you replied, doing your best to smile just to sell it. He didn't say he didn't believe you.
His hand, painted in red, colored your skin and hair as he brushed his thumb on your cheek. You leaned into his touch, your tears finally falling aswell. It surprised you when his lips crashed into yours.
And he smothered you, and you wanted nothing more. Your lips moved against his like it'd be the last time, knowing it'd be the last time, desperately trying to convey just how much you love him. He returned it with an even greater level of care, trying to convey just how much he needed you.
Everything faded away in that kiss. The world, the pain, sight and sound and touch.
Raph sobbed alone.
someone rigged my boiler and sadly my dog got caught in the explosions
the audacity of people smh
DAY 28: GENOCIDE
(im late)
COTLtober made by @/stychu-stych
commissions open
drawtober board below cut
“How many people have died to achieve this world domination of yours?” “769.” “…What?” “769 people died to achieve my plans. I counted them, and had each of their names etched on my throne so I never forget what my victory cost the world. Now tell me, how many have you killed to see me dead?”
People are not defined by their addictions.
Someone who is an alcoholic isn’t just an alcoholic. Someone who’s hooked on opioids isn’t necessarily a bad person. Someone who can’t help but shoot up on heroin isn’t necessarily crazy. SOMEONE WHO IS ADDICTED TO DRUGS ISN’T A BAD PERSON JUST BECAUSE THEY DO DRUGS. And even if they are a bad person? They should still be entitled to get help. If the cops arrest someone for possession of drugs, that person shouldn’t just be charged for the crime. They should be given legitimate help to stop the addiction. And because this isn’t done, at least where I live in the US, my Papa (mom’s stepdad) is now dead. Today’s his birthday, and two days ago, he committed suicide. He was an alcoholic, who was arrested multiple times, and one of those times was for possession of drugs. I don’t know what kind. All I know is, very little was done to help him, if anything at all was done. Just because someone has an addiction does not make them a bad person. I can say this with confidence because, when I was little, my Papa was one of the funniest people in my life. He made me and my cousins giggle a lot, by telling jokes and making funny faces and tickling us silly. I don’t have many memories of him beyond that, because once he and my Nana (mom’s mom) got divorced a few years back, we only saw him twice. We tried to schedule time to spend with him, but a lot of the times, he would cancel last minute. He would stop reaching out to people as much. He had to give away his cat and move out from the house he and my Nana had lived in. He moved into an apartment. Multiple times, my aunts who lived nearby called for police welfare checks on him.
Two days ago, on March 20th, my Papa was found dead. I don’t feel comfortable sharing how he did it, but he did leave a suicide note- a note that none of my family had access to for about 24 hours or so after we found out what had happened. Chances were that he was intoxicated, due to the location he was found, though we haven’t gotten back the toxicology report yet to confirm this. The day before, one of my aunts had called the police to do a welfare check on him, as he wasn’t answering his phone. Five minutes later, the officer she’d gotten in contact with responded- a time short enough for us to believe that the officer(s) involved in the welfare check were negligent. My personal opinion, though biased, is that since he had been arrested before (not for any sort of major charges to my knowledge), the police were starting to be tired of him, and think of him almost as a nuisance. Like I said, however, this is just my opinion.
People with addictions need to be treated as what they are- people. Good or bad or anything in between, everyone deserves to get treatment for an addiction, and to have their health taken care of. Otherwise, the consequences can hurt not just the person themselves, and not just the people who love them, but our entire society as a whole.
Rest in peace, Papa, and happy birthday. I love you, and I hope you knew that. 🤍
The death of Brookesong.
Here’s a very important plot point in my non-clangen-written story, and also a piece where I’m trying to render again! The lighting is a bit messy on this piece but in my Defense I drew it on an overnight flight extremely sleep deprived so shut up
(One last note yes I’m aware Brooke is a name and not the same as a brook, I swear I have a reason for the E being in there
Anyways I will return to quakes of Cragclan, though I just returned from a ten day trip and am recovering from jet lag, so I may be a teeny bit slower on the next update! Thanks for your understandings and support!
I'm kinda scared posting full version on instagram. Not to even mention tiktok with its "I'm gonna block your content because f you". So here you go - if anyone wants to see uncensored version you can click below to see the whole post
Please be aware that it's not a content for everyone, especially for a younger audience
I was thinking that even after getting the crown Lamb's deaths can still be very painful. But after each time they slowly getting used to it.
Here comes my late @sasori-mini-bang
Day 1
“Blood”
Sorry in advance for any mistake in writting!
Czytaj dalej
one of the harshest realities as a young trans adult is knowing that there’s a high chance that they’ll put the wrong name on your headstone. if i died tomorrow they wouldn’t say ben at my funeral.
i don’t want to be remembered for who i’m “supposed to be.”
A collection of Non-linear Kidd & Killer vignettes using Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list - imagining their pre-canon backstory, based on the crumbs given in the SBS.
Story ranges from them as small children all the way to the aftermath of Wano
Art included with each chapter (minus the bonus ones) First "Chapter" also includes a chronological order as well, but it may not read as smoothly.
This is a story that ranges in it's themes and ratings from chapter to chapter but is VERY MUCH AN ADULT STORY.
18+ !!!
All A03 Archive Warnings apply:
Depictions Of Violence ‡
Rape/Non-Con [not detailed] ‖
Underage [not detailed]
Character Death ‡
Plus
Children hurt/ in danger *
Teenagers hurt / in danger †
Food/Eating Issues
Poverty/homelessness
Self esteem/worth issues
ALL CHAPTERS ARE ALSO AVAILABLE ON MY TUMBLR
Prompts
Partners ¶
Back to Back * † ‡
Coat
Mask
Laugh ‡
Lipstick
Hair ‡
Care *
Loyalty †
Grief * ‡ ‖ >> soft/abridged version
Meeting ‡
Love Language
Diner † §
Punk
Modern
Highschool §
Sacrifice
Trust † ‡
Pirate King
Metal Trinkets * ‡
Battle ‡
Aftermath * ‡
Morning
Evening
Night
Cold ‡
Warm * ‖ ¶
Kimono
Date ¶ §
Tears ‖ ‡
Freeform ‡
No Art Bonus chapters
BONUS: Dialogue
BONUS: Smut § [A03 exclusive]
31. 磁気
Kidd - 6 | Killer - 10
Tags specifically for this chapter:
Killer watches a public execution
one that turns rather gruesome in the end
Killer steals food/money
brief mentions of food scarcity
Kidd gets first dibs on the pilfered goods
Read at A03 linked above or here below cut
Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list
Killer had learned long ago that public executions were one of the best times to steal things - not just from the shops, but lifting money right out of people pockets; adults to wrapped up in the brutal displays to care much about his tiny wandering fingers.
And while Kidd was great and begging, and a perfect distraction for Killer's thieving the rest of the time, big groups like today's had Killer feeling uneasy, and the boy was left to play in the Heaps alone.
With pockets stuffed and a bag of fresh fruit and bread sung over his shoulder, Killer was ready to skulk back to the safety of the junk yards when another cheer went up in the crowd. He heard someone making some kind of announcement, but couldn't really understand it. The crowd seemed to because the cheering was deafening.
Curiosity getting the better of him, Killer climbed up onto the low roofs of a shop patio and tried to understand what had everyone so wound up.
There was a man in a white uniform on the center stage, and some of the men Killer recognized from the City Guard dumping water on him. Everyone cheered when they did.
"Seanmhair,” he called over to one of the women standing off on her own in a balcony above him, "Who is that man?"
She wore a large smile, beaming down at him with her round face, "Marines sent another of of their devil fruit men to bring us to heel. Poor bastard thought we'd be an easy mark with the Heaps - guess he forgot just how much lead they dump on us." She cackled.
Killer didn't really understand what she meant, but she clearly found it funny, so he laughed too.
"Why do they keep pouring water on him?" He'd watched people bigger than him die face down in a barrel of water, but to keep upended it on the Marine-man confused him.
"Seawater dear," the woman explained kindly, gesturing him to climb up and watch from her railing, "When you steal power from the sea, she never stops trying to take it back. Makes devil fruit eaters prostrate themselves before her no matter what form she takes."
They were fitting a noose over the man's head, the crowd seaming to hold their breath. Killer did too, clutching his bag in his lap as he leaned forward on his precarious perch on the old wood beam to watch.
There's more talking, the man trying to scream at that around the gag, and then someone waves their arm and the floor dropped out from under the marine man. He fell, the rope make a 'wrhiip' noise and the he was left thrashing at the end of the line.
The crowd went wild. The lady next to Killer just tutted, shaking her head. He looked up at her curiously.
"Didn't math it right." she told him, voice pitched like some kind of warning, "Really is best for everyone when the neck breaks - now he's gotta dangle. If he had any friends, they'd pull on him to hurry it up, but the Marines have no friends here."
Killer watched as it seemed to take forever. Sometimes, the joints of the buildings would whine, and a few people in the crowd would reach for their weapons, and then someone would dump more water on the man and the world went still again.
In the end, someone either got bored or sympathetic, and a man climbed up on the stage and pulled his knife out.
The crowd cheered and the man made a grand display of strutting around with his knife overhead.
"Dear, you should look away now," the old lady said, hand reaching over to pat his head kindly, before stopping to consider what might be living in the dirty tangles. She tugged lightly on the lip of his bag where it peaked under his arms instead, to get him to look up at her.
"They gonna kill him finally?"
"Yeah, but it'll be messy."
Killer found himself looking back, enraptured. He'd seen men die before; beaten, drowned, burned. Never cut open though. The lady just tutted again, but let him be.
The man with the knife stepped forward to the dangling Marine. And then he draw the blade quickly across the exposed neck. And there was so. Much. Blood.
Killer found his mouth going dry, watching the red get everywhere. The man stopped jerking around under the rope very quickly after that.
All that time spend dangling, and so quick to die once the knife came out.
The crowds below started to break up, and Killer realized his window of getting out of town unnoticed with his pilfered goods was closing quickly.
"Bye Seanmhair!" he called to the lady as he started to lower himself over the railing, judging the drop to the street below as he dangled. She said something back, he wasn't sure what, and he was dropping down with a mostly controlled landing, falling on his ass at the end but unhurt. And then he was darting through the streets, bag clutched close, pockets still stuffed, and today must have been a lucky day, because no one messed with him all the way home.
Later, as Killer emptied his pockets, he described - if somewhat abridged - the execution, though Kidd has a lot more questions about the hanging than Killer knows how to answer.
"Auntie said they didn't math it right. So the rope was wrong."
Kidd looked at his suspiciously. "Math?"
"I guess." Killer shrugged, not really sure himself, "Like... I guess the rope verses how heavy the guy is or something? You want his neck to snap, so it's quick."
"Math someone to death.." the kid muttered, looking in awe of the idea.
"Sure..." Killer chuckled.
Kidd found Killer's laugh funny sounding, and it caused him to join in. But the kid's laugh was.. kind. Not mocking like the other boys, and Killer liked to see him happy.
Killer counted through the money he's lifted that day, counting out some of it and handing it to Kidd. "Hold on to this for a little bit, I'm gonna go hide the rest of this." - It wasn't safe to keep this much money with them, even if hiding it didn't always guarantee it's still be there later. But Killer had a few good spots no one had found yet, and the only others who'd known about them long dead, and he slipped out to go distribute today's money.
Kidd stuck the coins he'd been handed into the bag Killer had left with him as to not loose it, before rummaging though the fresh perishables Killer had loaded up on. Bread and fruit were delicious, and hard to get a hold of, but also not worth stealing in large amounts because they went bad so quick. But Killer had though it worth the risk today, and they had a wonderful feast when he got back.
The problem was waiting for Killer to get back. Kidd's stomach grumbled irritated as he looked over one of the bread loaves, biting his lip. He set it aside, pulling some of the fruit free for inspection.
They weren't rotted or bruised at all, and the kid set them out in a line - some he'd never even seen before. A few had hard peels or something to them, and others were fuzzy. And then there was the one that looked like a bunch of grapes, its vine twisted up all around it still, crooked little spines on the fruit, but curiously not spiny or sharp.
Unfortunately, even if it didn't stab him when he plucked one and bit into it, it sure didn't taste very good. Kidd was glad this was the only one - he didn't want Killer to have had to go though all this work just to find out he stole gross fruit. Kidd would eat all of this one and hope Killer wouldn't try and steal more of them again in the future.
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