Rp Account for Barsad: TDKR
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Here was their belief in action: The men of Blackgate barrel out of their cells and into the corridors like fight dogs being let back into the ring. They push and shove at each other. They stumble and curse and spit as they move up the pathway to the only pair of gates that stand between them and the outside world. But if they want a gun, they have to wait. And they all want a gun. Barsad hands the heavy duffel bag to one of his soldiers and pulls out one AK at a time. These criminals, these dogs, form a single filed line without being ordered to do so. Order from Chaos.
Bane is finishing his speech. One man, one gun. One man, one gun. Until the line in front of Barsad begins to dwindle and the mob forms behind him. They press out of the hole, a nuclear orange spill on already toxic streets.
"You know what’s going to happen right? Now that Bane’s read that letter, told the truth."
Barsad bobs his head and his men move back out to the streets, dragging the last remaining Blackgate cops with them for judgment. The speaker steps a little closer, scars, no, tally marks on nearly every inch of his skin and it is no stretch of the imagination to guess what they symbolize.
Zsaz uses his gun, gestures outside, “It’s gonna be a shitstorm.”
"A little knowledge is a dangerous thing."
Zsaz seems to agree and he joins the others on Grand. There is one face that Barsad knows he missed, and though it does not surprise him as he walks down the long corridor and sees her still sitting at the corner of her bunk, it does not please him either.
"Here or out there. What is the difference now?"
She gives no answer.
His brows pinched further, and he blinked—several times, having been uncertain it worked with the first attempt. “…No, wan’ make out,” he insisted, as if this should have been quite obvious by then. “Please? ‘M not that drunk, swear.”
Gabriel looks up at his Brother with uncertainty feeling embarrassed and ashamed. He can feel his eyes burn and his chin start to tremble and his ducks his head to hide his tears.
Gabriel tries to keep his emotions steady but it’s hard and his lips tremble, “For being afraid!”
"Little one, do you remember what I taught you about soldiers?" Barsad looked down at him as they walked. "It is not a lack of fear that makes us strong. And what else…? I know you remember."