Post by Deleted on Oct 7, 2017 20:31:02 GMT
cw/ death
Call her a freelancer, if you like. Call her a vigilante. Hell, call her a lawyer unafraid to take things into her own hands. You wouldn't be the first.
Her name is Rebecca Ammit.
Some say that it's an alias, that her entire identity is a fabrication. It lines up too nicely with her...area of interest. Rebecca, meaning "to bind", "to tie", "snare", or "noose", according to some sources. Noose having a connotation far to close to the justice system--and a rumored execution method for some of her immolations--for it to be a coincidence. Ammit is the name of the devourer in Egyptian mythology, who consumed the hearts of those judged to be not pure. Even her birthday, October 12, is in Libra season. Libra known as the sign of the just--even the constellation is of a balance.
But of course, these whispers aren't common or deep--she's not that infamous. She's not well-known enough for more detailed theories to form. She never been an active part of the significant action--only a bystander. Besides, fake names are common for those functioning outside the law.
Perhaps the stars just agreed that a girl would have such an affinity for justice that her name and birthdate would say it too.
There is one more thing that sets this girl apart. It's that she's blind.
Justice is blind.
Some say it's a cruel irony.
Whatever the case, Rebecca's area of interest was justice, and she knew her way around.
In the middle of nowhere, in a washed-out-looking place, there was a gravel road, leading to an old washed-out-looking abandoned warehouse with chipped white paint. Voices, too muffled to make out words, came from inside. One cold and calm, the other panicked and afraid. The calm one was speaking, and the panicked one's voice raised in volume, pleading. The calm one did not seem to be affected by this. There was a faint noise, then a thud.
Rebecca opened the wooden door of the warehouse, holding a white blood-spattered katana, the red striking against the pale background. A green pack was slung around her left shoulder. She tosses the sword in her hand and it transforms neatly into a white cane. If one would enter the warehouse, they would find a corpse of a man who was accused of two murders and a robbery. His head was almost completely be severed from his body.
Rebecca, the one responsible for his death, started walking eastward. There was town a few hours walk away. With luck, she could make it. Or maybe someone would take pity and offer her a ride.
Call her a freelancer, if you like. Call her a vigilante. Hell, call her a lawyer unafraid to take things into her own hands. You wouldn't be the first.
Her name is Rebecca Ammit.
Some say that it's an alias, that her entire identity is a fabrication. It lines up too nicely with her...area of interest. Rebecca, meaning "to bind", "to tie", "snare", or "noose", according to some sources. Noose having a connotation far to close to the justice system--and a rumored execution method for some of her immolations--for it to be a coincidence. Ammit is the name of the devourer in Egyptian mythology, who consumed the hearts of those judged to be not pure. Even her birthday, October 12, is in Libra season. Libra known as the sign of the just--even the constellation is of a balance.
But of course, these whispers aren't common or deep--she's not that infamous. She's not well-known enough for more detailed theories to form. She never been an active part of the significant action--only a bystander. Besides, fake names are common for those functioning outside the law.
Perhaps the stars just agreed that a girl would have such an affinity for justice that her name and birthdate would say it too.
There is one more thing that sets this girl apart. It's that she's blind.
Justice is blind.
Some say it's a cruel irony.
Whatever the case, Rebecca's area of interest was justice, and she knew her way around.
In the middle of nowhere, in a washed-out-looking place, there was a gravel road, leading to an old washed-out-looking abandoned warehouse with chipped white paint. Voices, too muffled to make out words, came from inside. One cold and calm, the other panicked and afraid. The calm one was speaking, and the panicked one's voice raised in volume, pleading. The calm one did not seem to be affected by this. There was a faint noise, then a thud.
Rebecca opened the wooden door of the warehouse, holding a white blood-spattered katana, the red striking against the pale background. A green pack was slung around her left shoulder. She tosses the sword in her hand and it transforms neatly into a white cane. If one would enter the warehouse, they would find a corpse of a man who was accused of two murders and a robbery. His head was almost completely be severed from his body.
Rebecca, the one responsible for his death, started walking eastward. There was town a few hours walk away. With luck, she could make it. Or maybe someone would take pity and offer her a ride.
