hernes_son (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hernes_son) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2012-06-20 02:11 pm
hernes_son) wrote in exsiliumlogs2012-06-20 02:11 pm
Wrong place, wrong time
Date & Time: After this and before this
Location: Outside the Hold
Characters: Robin of Loxley and anyone
Summary: And the crowd goes wild! ... Not in a good way.
Warnings: Violence, I expect.
The unmistakable sounds of a scuffle can be heard in the street outside the Hold: phrases like “it’s another one of them” and “you’re to blame” float on the air above the general melee, along with an angry male voice.
“I’ve no wish to harm you but you WILL LET ME BY!”
Immediately the sounds change to inarticulate shouting, grunting, the sickening thud of something solid hitting flesh. “Hold ‘im, now” and “watch ‘is left” interspersed with snarls of pain and rage from more than one party.
The group is seething, a furious ball of humanity, limbs and backs and heads flailing and entwined, faces contorted with fear and the madness of a crown gone riot.
An observer might catch a fleeting glimpse of the riot’s angry focus: a familiar face now bruised and bloodied, the curve of a bow at his back.
[Anybody wanting to jump in and help Robin out is welcome to do so! Or, wait until the crowd dissipates if you prefer – he’ll need a hand then as well.]
Location: Outside the Hold
Characters: Robin of Loxley and anyone
Summary: And the crowd goes wild! ... Not in a good way.
Warnings: Violence, I expect.
The unmistakable sounds of a scuffle can be heard in the street outside the Hold: phrases like “it’s another one of them” and “you’re to blame” float on the air above the general melee, along with an angry male voice.
“I’ve no wish to harm you but you WILL LET ME BY!”
Immediately the sounds change to inarticulate shouting, grunting, the sickening thud of something solid hitting flesh. “Hold ‘im, now” and “watch ‘is left” interspersed with snarls of pain and rage from more than one party.
The group is seething, a furious ball of humanity, limbs and backs and heads flailing and entwined, faces contorted with fear and the madness of a crown gone riot.
An observer might catch a fleeting glimpse of the riot’s angry focus: a familiar face now bruised and bloodied, the curve of a bow at his back.
[Anybody wanting to jump in and help Robin out is welcome to do so! Or, wait until the crowd dissipates if you prefer – he’ll need a hand then as well.]