by roelian » Tue Jul 26, 2022 9:09 am
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username: roelian 34199
kalon name: ryker
signature item: the keys
The iron keys clank together as Ryker walks along the cells of the prison. It isn’t a very large jailhouse, but he almost wishes that it was. It would allow him more,,, fun. The ability to test the true limits of the keys.
”Be careful with forces that you don’t understand.”
The words of the old man echo in his mind but he grins past the toothpick he’s got clenched in his teeth. He doesn’t care. He wants to push as far as he can. He wants to see the limits of these keys. Wants to see the way the cells walls shift when he uses that special silver key mixed between the black iron on the large ring buckled to his waist. ‘Demonic forces at play’ the old man had warned him while Ryker had robbed him just because he could. ‘You don’t know what you’re playing with’. Ryker almost laughs at the memory. Just old ramblings of an old man trying to scare Ryker away from robbing him. Pathetic, really.
But it never kills them, no, Ryker is always certain not to let things get too far - though he’s still not sure how much control he truly even has over the key. The way he’s able to warp and shape whatever cell he places that key into in order to bring about what he considers a “more fitting punishment” than simple solitary time behind bars. Perhaps a twist of the key to the left, and the cell will fill with snakes. A right twist and insects will line the wall like paper. Maybe, for the particularly worst of criminals; he’ll jiggle the lock just right such that the floor will set their feet aflame should they try to get out of bed. A twisted game of “the floor is made of lava”
“You’re corrupt” the old man had spat at him as Ryker had taken his possessions and his horse too. “A sorry excuse for a sheriff.”
“And you’re a sorry excuse for an old man.” He’d said back with a shrug as he rode off, the old man fading gently into the dust behind him.
Rykers boots clunk against the floor and the prisoners there slink back into the shadows, pretending to sleep lest they rouse Ryker’s attention. They’ve been through more than enough of his games and don’t want to entice him any further. Even the hardest of criminals has cracked under his smirk and the rattle of their lock. There is a new prisoner here, though, one rumored to have taken out half of the next town over. Not that the crime particularly matters to Ryker. He’s long since passed any sort of “justice” reasoning for his actions.
“Sleep tight.” He says, a wicked grin across his face as he turns the key within the lock, staring at the prisoner in the same way that a cat would watch a cornered mouse. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite~”
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samael || he/they || adult
|| ✧ nep ✧ || ✧ jean ✧ ||