WHO: Sheriff of Nottingham, Will Scarlet, Friar Tuck WHEN: Backdated to December 11th, Five days after this and the day before Stutely arrives. WHERE: Dungeon WHAT: More torture because we thought of things shhhhh WARNINGS: Torture, hanging, some teeth stuff, beatings up
After four days of Marian refusing to eat anything he had provided for her, and her throwing it on the ground, Malcolm had had enough. He was sick of watching Scarlet and the friar scramble to pick up any scraps they could from what she'd thrown, before he could stomp on their hands, and kick the food out of their reach. He had pulled Marian out of the dungeon temporarily with the excuse that he was going to feed her up there so they couldn't get to the scraps.
Really though, he just wanted to work out his frustration on his captives. And he didn't want Marian to see.
By the time he returned to the dungeon, moving silently and carefully, both men were asleep. Little wonder too, they'd gone four days without a meal, and even before that there hadn't been much. Malcolm made his way towards Tuck's cell, the neck shackle in one hand. He moved with cat-like grace, opening the cell quietly and carefully. That was, until he tripped over the edge of the cell and right into it.
Tuck awoke, grunting, and once he saw what was in Malcolm's hand - as sprawled on the floor as Malcolm was - he let out a terrified shout, and he was scrambling up out of his bunk. "No no no no, don't put that FUCKING THING ON ME" Tuck screamed, immediately trying to run past the sheriff to the open cell door. Malcolm caught his leg and Tuck went sprawling too, and then the fight was on, the men wrestling each other, the neck shackle beside them. Tuck desperate not to have the damn thing anywhere near him, and Malcolm determined to put it on.