Hold On [closed]

The last week had been a riot of misery. As if the food and water deprivation wasn't enough, Rohaan Ja'aisen spent two days vomiting, not including the day and a half before that in which he fell ill. Two days of curling up in the secluded aqueducts where cool, sweet water tempted him, two days of wrangling a retching stomach that bucked more than a wild stallion despite being empty. He doubted his cause at first as it seemed much too absurd to be true. More than once Rohaan brought the flowing water to his lips and yet never swallowed. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong and now, now he knew. There was something wrong. Very wrong.?

He'd survived the worst of it. The violent withdrawals tortured his system in painful and unique ways that he scarcely believed possible. Yet there he was, clinging to life with beaming pride. He was, however, still struggling to put everything together. He did not remember how he became to be in this place, nor what it was called, or even how long it had been since he'd seen the other side of its walls. he barely even remembered the fact that he became sick inside the stony walls of a dark prison. The thought was there, but like a half remembered dream, it was faint. Rohaan praised his luck. If he never became ill, thus refusing to eat or drink, he would have never discovered the trouble that had plagued him.

The next few days were spent re adjusting to free life. Air felt cooler at night and hotter by day, the silky smoothness of water became as smooth as a shadow, and the harshness of stone became heavy and hard. Moreover, Rohaan remembered the joys of music--real music, not the kind the overlords fed their people. It was the kind of music to be danced to around a towering firewall into the night, the kind one listened to the night he had his first kiss, or the music that plays as a woman gains the courage to choose her soulmate. When he was far from this place and free to scream and holler and crash and bang as he pleased, he would reproduce such a song. Now was not the time. It was now time for Rohaan to make his escape from the walled in city--something he would have scoffed at before. Without food or sufficient water, Rohaan had become incredibly weak and his ability to morph his shape at will had not yet returned to him. No, muscling through it couldn't be done. He had to be sly.

The blonde crept out from the shadows, still damp from the aqueducts. His muscles quavered in protest but he urged them onward. From what he could tell from crawling through the belly of the city, his best escape was through the east gate, which was occasionally opened for messengers from other provinces. He headed that way, always mindful of his surroundings.

"But then, there are no.....th-that's him! That's the prisoner!"?
Rohaan heard the hissed words of a nearby soldier and immediately began to lead him and his two comrades on a wild chase.
"Ja'aisen! Halt, or we'll kill you! Ja'aisen!"
"By order of national law, you're under arrest!" another called after him. The three men were in prime condition and were well trained; naturally, they began to overtake him. Rohaan's legs starved for reprieve, wobbling under him like two sticks trying to hold up a lion. He even stumbled once, nearly falling. He needed a backup, needed a change of plans. Hoping for some camouflage, the blonde dove into the bumbling masses of people at the marketplace who had no idea who or what was in their midst. Yet.

Source: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RolePlayGateway/~3/S8dnkS_F_Ss/viewtopic.php

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