Grue And Chill Become Brothers

Location: The Hollow
Participants: Grue and Chill
Summary: Yell yell yell. Compromise. Chop off your own hand!

Grue is currently working on improving the Hollow. Of course, his chosen method of doing so involves finding a previously sealed and overgrown door, tearing away the thorns, forcing it open and then bellowing into the hedge 'No Solicitations!"

Chill, well, he's just arriving. He steps through one of the myriad doors into the Hollow, his expression showing a tossup of annoyance, sadness, and maybe a little hunger too. His sign axe is resting on his shoulder, supported with a single large hand as his eyes survey the Hollow. Grue's noise draws his attention and he pauses in the middle of the Hollow, surrounded on all sides by open ground.

Grue doesn’t hear or see Chill come in. He is too busy in his task.

Chill clears his throat loudly, partially turning to face Grue. He raises his voice, calling across the Hollow. "You there! I don't, uh, recognize you!" Well that's blunt enough, but sure to get anyone's attention.

Grue turns and squints at Chill. Then he shrugs and snorts, "Grue not recognize trollman neither. Who you?"

Chill snarls lowly at the name given. "Grue…" The word brings distaste to the ogre's lips. "I, uh, represent the Hollow in the, uh, matter of retribution and, uh, payment. You took Iola's, uh, hand. I'm here to collect, uh, fair exchange."

Grue bellows with horrid laughter and then spits to the side. "Funny troll. Autumn leads the Freehold. Tink is da Queen. You ain’t got shit till Winter, and bitch queen not stand down till Grue duel her and win. Grue give back her hand at Christmas, if you chicken shit snow people stay in line. That’s the way it works. Seasons turn. Wait for your damn turn."

"I'm, uh, sorry, but you started, uh, fighting. In the Hollow. Freehold law says, uh, anyone fighting in the, uh, Freehold is to be punished. Hospitality, uh, laws. All are safe inside the Hollow." Chill rattles off with a few 'uh's thrown in for good measure. "In the mean-time, uh, you're going to loan her your hands. Both of them. You can, uh, get them back at Christmas."

Grue snorts and shakes his head, "Who make da law? Scarecrow? He a dead bastard. We got no laws till Tink put em down and people give oath. You give oath yet? And dat not a law anyways. We had bad people break in da Hollow and Grue kill em. That law - got to protect the people. Bitch Queen not do that. She break law. She get punished."

"You broke the law, uh, by enforcing the law." Chill grumbles out towards Grue, patting the haft of his axe. "I aint, uh, going to swear to no Autumn fucks, uh, ever. I'm going to, uh, break the law now, uh, enforce it. Maybe whoever, uh, comes for my hands will be smart enough, uh, to get them. We can't, uh, have your noise though, uh, you're too loud. You should have, uh, let Winter handle Winter."

Grue bellows at Chill with a horrible roar born of timeless rage and hunger. His terrible teeth in his oversized jaw proclaiming to the world that this is a serious situation, and someone is about to get bit. "You oath to fucking Freehold now, snow man. Not to Tink, not to bitch Queen. To Freehold. You want to talk laws, then you fucking do them. We one people. Unless you not. If you not, then you is enemy. And Grue kill all Gentry loving sons of bitches. Not just gonna take hand. Gonna take head too!"

Well, that's new. Someone actually confronting Chill. He takes a step back, tightening his grip on his axe with widening eyes. "Uh, you, uh…" He starts to stumble a bit on his words, not able to think of anything 'clever' to snipe back. It seems Grue's shouting had somewhat of an affect on him. "Uh, no! No." He shakes his head a little, trying to clear the confusion. "Punishment, uh, later, uh, for me. Quit trying to, uh, trick me!" His inner-fear is fueling his outer-anger, nostrils flaring slightly as he stares at Grue. "It's, uh, all your fault! Uh, nobody listens and, uh, fucking PIES!" Well that certainly makes sense.

Grue steps forwards and growls at Chill, "Look man. Winter has its place. Autumn has its place. It not your turn yet. We all on same team. Bitch Queen was stupid cunt and she wouldnt back down. You gonna be stupid too? No! You be smart. You help Grue prop up weaker folks who got the brains to lead. You help be a good guy. Grue be bad cop. You be good cop. Way the world works. No more blood on this floor. You wanna fight me. Ok - but we go in da Hedge to fight."

Chill levels his axe at Grue in one hand, arm outstretched. The words 'Slow - Children Playing' are clearly visible on the axe-head, folded into place. His eyes narrow, teeth bearing to reveal some very dangerous canines, but nothing near as terrifying as Grue's grill. "I ain't, uh, no good cop. I'm, uh, Cornelius Chill, and, uh, I do, uh, what needs to be done. I ain't, uh, stupid and, uh, you're in my way." The axe goes back, to be held low, grip in both hands. "I'm, uh, Chill, and I'm already damned. You won't, uh, die, if you give me your hands. Last chance."

Grue frowns and takes another step towards Chill and puts his hands on his hips, "You gonna be a knight huh? You think you do right? Grue know fighting you not right. Should be fighting Gentry. Grue make deal. You and me. We oath to Freehold. We oath to each other. We be the sheriffs in this town. People fuck up, they answer to us! People not lead well - they answer to us. Gentry come knocking, we gonna knock back. You do that. Grue give his whole fucking arm! No shit."

"I don't, uh, do right… I do, uh, what needs to be done. Uh, there needs to be consequences." Chill frowns sharply, Grue's words having the desired affect of sinking into Chill's skull. "You give, uh, just hand, and, uh, I'll do it. Uh, but you promise to let Winter deal, uh, with Winter from now on. And, uh, yeah, uh, just the hand. No magic, uh, in the whole arm."

Grue frowns and nods once, "You oath to Freehold. You oath to be Grue brother, and we do the dirty work that needs to be done? You chop off you hand too? Since you came here to break da law dat Grue broke?"

Chill frowns right back at Grue. "Uh, no… I didn't, uh, break the law. I was, uh, going to. I'll, uh, make the, uh, oaths… but I can't, uh, lose my hand." He hefts the axe a bit. "Too big for, uh, just one hand."

Grue shrugs, "Grue give you hand. And bitch queen not get her's back, you know. How we word da oath. We both protect da Freeghold. Kill da Gentry. Punish those who lead bad, and break da law. If we not, den it the others job to take da oath breakers head?"

"Uh, that, uh, works. Iola isn't, uh, in charge of Winter. I pledge to, uh, let you punish Autumn first and, uh, you pledge to let me, uh, deal with Winter first. Uh, until we can get a Spring and a Summer pledged too. I think, uh, that works." Lots of Uh, Chill gives.

<OOC> Grue says, "This is what I have so far: Nemisis Pledge. task Alliance (-2) - we agree to work together in policing the freehold. Endevor (-2) we seek to punish those who break the freeholds laws. || Sanction - Death (-3) || Duration: Lifelong (+3)|| Boons: Favor (+2) - we will grant each other a big favor when called on to do so. And we now need 2 more points. Maybe something combatish?"

Grue grunts and pulls out his meat cleaver with his right hand. "I chop, after we both make oath. You make sure Grue get to hospital." He then stomps to the center of the room and kneels down next to a heavy crate. He puts his hand out and takes a deep breath. "Grue swear that Cornellius Chill be like brother. For life. We not be friends, but we work together on da same team to make sure nobody else hurt da Freehold. We make sure dat dey laws the Freehold makes are upheld, dat the leader of the current court is listened too, and dat no body hurts any of da lost in da Freehold or we gonna punish them good and hard. We do this and we get stronger to help those in need, and we get smarter to see dey clues when someone screw up. And if dey other ever need big favor, we gotta do our damndest to do it right for dem. We screw up and not do this an break our oath den may we be struck dead. So help me God. Amen."

"Uh, I pledge, uh, to be Grue's uh, brother for life, uh, even if we're not friends. Uh, and to work with, uh, him to protect the Freehold and, uh, make sure the laws are upheld, and, uh, the crownholder is, uh, listened to. And, uh, that nobody hurts the others in the Freehold, uh, or they get punished, uh, severely. We do this, uh, and we gain strength to protect those, uh, in need, and smarter to track those who do, uh, wrong. If we he ever needs a big favor, uh, I pledge to do my best, to, uh, give it. If we, uh, go against this oath, uh, may we be, uh, struck dead." Chill rattles off, pausing every few seconds to take a breath. He leaves off the bit about God too. Maybe he really does think he's damned.

Grue shrugs, as glamour fills the air and the Freehold actually shakes a bit from the force of the Wyrd. "Well fucking shit. Got any whiskey?" Grue doesnt wait for an answer but instead raises his meat cleaver high - the same one that lopped off Iola's hand - and slams it down with all his might on his own left wrist. The bones snap, and the flesh spits. Blood squirts out in a rush and Grue howls in pain and falls backwards. His severed hand sits lifeless and bloody on the table.

Chill doesn't look surprised at the actions of Grue, although he does tense slightly as the cleaver goes down. Maybe he half-expects it come down on -his- wrist. His first reaction is to reach down and pick up the hand before he attempts to grab Grue and drag him towards a hospital… with force if necessary. "Sonofabitch, you, uh, did it!" Incredulous is the tone of the day.

Grue howls and shakes his head, "Hedge mother fucker. Hedge! Get some fruit on this. You bloody chicken shit sone of a bitch!"

Chill laughs heartily now, the first amusement he's shown in some time. Grue's predicament or choice of words, one of them brings mirth to Chill. But it's toward the Hedge he heads, axe held at ready. "Uh, only place I know, uh, with the good fruit is in Central, uh, Park. Did I, uh, mention the briarwolves hunt for me? Because, uh, the briarwolves hunt for me."
Grue rips off his apron and wraps it around his stub of a wrist, trying to staunch the flow of blood as he rises shakily to his feet. "Screw the damn wolves. Doctors ask questions! Get in the mother fucking hedge. Now!" He tries to push past Chill to the door he just recently opened and lumber off in search of some healing fruit.

Normally Chill might resist, but Grue is bleeding after all. He lets himself be pushed into the Hedge, gripping his axe tightly just in case of an ambush. "Uh, we don't, uh, have a doctor here? Uh, maybe, uh, Spring? Okay…" And it's into the Hedge with him! Or something.

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