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Post by Locke (DP) on Jun 7, 2010 23:09:34 GMT -5
OoC: OPEN.
As the prince rode from the castle the rain came in a form of mist. The nature of this gentle mist was the only reason he did ride outside that day as Darius usually preferred indoor arenas; after a couple hours of pounding rain he and Ice would come back soaked and miserable. Today only a slight sheen of wetness dusted Ice’s sides and while it was still wet by all means it was a relief to not have water relentless pounding on their backs and shoulders. Today was a better day to ride than most before it.
Darius didn’t truly mind the rain. It always rained in Silvereye and being a noble he knew no other way. The man was no depressed neophyte to this city, the kind who lived in the sun all their lives and promptly committed suicide after the rain in the city had washed away all of their happiness, for he hardly remembered the sun. The man did not long for the sun either, as few of the nobles did. It was only the throne his family wanted and Darius didn’t play that dangerous game. Easily content, they called him, or sometimes ‘lazy’ and having ‘no ambitions’. The prince didn’t mind this either.
Ice’s heavy hooves clapped against the wet streets. Following behind the horse was a car, a prettier car than any common man could afford, moving slowly. Darius glanced back at the vehicle and gave the driver a clear look of disdain. Earlier he had told the guards not to follow him. ‘What good do you do aside from interrupting a peaceful ride?’ the prince had argued. Bodyguards wouldn’t be able to stop a speeding bullet and if Darius was killed or kidnapped his family could care less. It seemed the men had waited until Darius was out on the streets and then made an attempt to stealthily sneak up behind him, but car engines did not do well for stealth, and the castles own royal guards were too pampered to take out horses of their own. Nudging Ice’s side Darius pushed the destrier into a trot. I have to lose these goons before they cause a scene.
Nudging his mount in a way that conveyed his urgency, Ice immediately bolted forward. The car engine spat angrily as the driver pressed on the gas, in hopes of keeping up with Darius. The vehicles the kingdom owned were faster than most nobles could even afford, but they were still only cars. Ice could outrun and outmaneuver them any day. Darius gently nudged Ice to the left and the black beast complied immediately, darting to the left and into a blacked alley. Easily stepping and hopping over bits of garbage in the streets, the horse was slowed down for a little bit, but it was a sacrifice the team could make. The horse and rider passed through one more alley before making a left and racing carelessly down the streets of Silvereye. The guards should have realized how easy it would be for Darius to escape their watchful eyes. No doubt they felt like fools now.
After Darius had gotten a safe distance away he let Ice ease back into a walk. The prince rode on the fringe of slums. The people had homes of their own here, but they were not as privileged as the middle class, with their grand manors, or the truly noble. The houses on these streets were cramped together and although the streets themselves were rather clean, the alleys were packed with trash that had yet to be compacted and thrown out. Windows were lit, for it was midday after all, and there were a few people in the streets, huddling under umbrellas. Most of the population of Silvereye could be found in the business districts, but on a day when the rain was mild people took advantage of the opportunity. Even city folk needed some time outdoors. Few people looked at him and no one seemed to recognize him, so he felt fairly safe.
Odd, really. I am safer on the streets of my own city than I am in my own home.
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Kazgrax
Gremlin
The scorpion sleeps right in my hand
Posts: 12
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Post by Kazgrax on Jun 10, 2010 19:36:58 GMT -5
A thin veil of sweat clung to the mans dusty skin, smearing in dark rivulets down his cheeks and neck. The coarse blue fabric wrapped around his neck like a scarf was heavy and sticky, dark spots of color appearing as the moisture saturated the cloth. Inside the leather gloves strong fingers tensed, instinctively clenching into tight fists as he shot up from the seedy table, sending the brittle wooden chair tumbling to the floor with a dramatized crash. "What you callin' me a liar?" Kicking the table leg harshly with a steel toed boot, a sinister smile curled Kaz's wide mouth as he watched the table collapse from the force of the blow, spilling the contents over a large red faced man with watery blue eyes.
He looked as if he were going to say something, the loose jowls quivering with rage as his mouth opened and then closed silently. Kaz pounded a fist into his open palm, long golden lashes blinking in a horrible play on innocence. "Cat got 'ur tongue you fat bastard?" His taunting words exploded like the Sun bomb that destroyed Errare. A spray of saliva peppered his face as the other man rose in a flurry of rich furs and velvet, jabbing one sausage finger in his direction as if condemning a hanged man. "Get out! Cheat!"
Pale blue eyes sparkling expectantly, Kaz easily dodged the first punch, bending back lithely and kicking up the fallen chair into his assaulter's stomach. Dropping low the agile fingers unsheathed both daggers at his hip and plunged them into the next mans thigh, twisting so the leg would be too crippled to bear his weight. "You gunna make me?" This was fun, this was what he had been looking for. A good fight could quell the nervous twitches of an unemployed mercenary, satisfying his ache for blood and control in the most socially acceptable way. Springing away from the table now swarming with thugs he chuckled darkly as the pig of a man scrambled away and to what he thought must be relative safety. Wrong. Twirling the elongated piece of steel between his fingers, Kaz deftly flicked his wrist in one fluid motion, releasing the weapon like a bullet from a gun.
"Bullseye." A shrill scream cut through the chaotic shouting and grunting, freezing the patrons for one shredded second as they all searched for the origin. The mercenary had managed to pin the doughy man by the ear, his dagger embedded deep into the wooden wall, pale saggy flesh caught between the solid surface and a wickedly curved hilt. It was in that minute distraction that Kaz slipped, darting away towards the door his soft black boots lost traction and slid on a stream of frothing amber beer. "The fu-" Mid curse a jerking action yanked him back, dragging the smaller mans body across the floor and back into the mass of ticked men. They hauled his struggling frame off the ground, supporting him between two burly sailors that kept him locked down.
"Lil demon, give us the money or I'll break your fucking neck." Kaz eyed the hulking dark man threatening him, shaking his head back and forth as a spasm of laughter shook his body. "No." The globule of spit splattered across his assailants cheek as if in slow motion, they appeared to be in shock from his blatant disregard for any self preservation. Kaz took the opportunity to sink his unnaturally long incisors into one of the mens arms, biting down hard until the fangs scraped against bone. It was enough to wriggle away. Smashing an elbow into the closest exposed flesh, he hooked the remaining dagger up and into the others chin. "Well g'day mates." Crouching low over the fallen bodies his experienced hands swiftly pilfered any and all jewels or items of worth, pocketing them on the run.
A cool mist broke over his face as Kaz tumbled out the open door, rolling to avoid the furious barrage of beer bottles flung at his bronze head. The moisture clung to his rough 5 o'clock shadow and tickled, he rubbed an irritated hand over the orange bristles and hopped to his feet like a cat, careening around the nearest corner and nearly getting trampled by a large black horse. Skidding to a stop he made some guttural noise between a hiss and a growl, glaring icy daggers at the unfortunate rider as he felt his temper rising.
And thats when it hit him. "Keep quiet." He seethed from between clenched teeth, moving fast enough to attempt to boost himself up on the backside of the large animal. If this maneuver was successful, a pistol would be drawn from its holster on his hip and trained on the back of the mans head. He would persuade him to get moving. If however, the mercenary fumbled or missed he would roll fluidly to his feet and with one backward glance towards the obstruction, climb the alley wall and flee.
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Post by Locke (DP) on Jun 17, 2010 15:56:26 GMT -5
The sense of security he had gotten was a false one. When he was escaping his guards, the sound of horse hooves against the paved ground prevented him from hearing the brawl that was happening inside a nearby building. The pair wasn’t expecting someone would drop in on them and rain on their parade.
The man was momentarily oblivious as to what had happened, but Ice knew when someone was attempting to mount him. The great black beast screamed bloody murder, piercing Darius’ ears, and flung his head wildly. Entwining his fingers in his horse’s mane in an attempt to stay in the saddle, Darius was allowed a glance backwards to see that a stranger had jumped on Ice from behind and was pointing a pistol. As fearful as Darius was of having his head blown off, he was more concerned with his horse. The prince had no control of the beast now as the stallion had gone into rampage mode. All he could do was entwine his fingers in the oily black mane and hoped for the best.
Darius couldn’t expect a street urchin to understand that Ice was a warhorse with an attitude problem larger than his weight. If the prince had any time to speak he would have warned the fool, but there was little opportunity now. Darius expected Ice to rear or buck and dump them both on the ground. Instead the great black beast lurched forward and demon quick he streaked down the street. Clinging to his mane, Darius could do nothing to stop the horse now- he was there for the ride. The destrier didn’t even seem to touch the pavement, or perhaps Darius was deceived since he couldn’t hear the hooves over the horses enraged shrieking. The prince could only hope this was a good thing- if the thug got his ride maybe he would leave Darius alone.
Assuming he does not blow my brains out.
Wind tossing his hair, building flying past like a blur, Darius would have possibly enjoyed the ride if the situation was slightly different. People shouted angrily as the great beast almost plowed them over. A common car came crawling along on the road and swerved towards the left when the destrier came straight at it. Undaunted, the horse pushed forward. The prince snatched the reigns and made an attempt to pull the horse to a halt, but Ice forced his nose forward and ignored the feeble tugging at the corners of his lips. Ice would have his way with them.
Nearly a mile from where they had started Ice decided he was done with the free ride. Darius felt the great beast lurch forward as he kicked his back legs up in a powerful buck. The prince was no fool- the longer he clung to Ice the more dangerous the landing when he finally did fall off. Darius dove to the left, hoping he would only land on the pavement and praying he was clear of Ice’s powerful hooves. As he smacked the wet ground he felt a stinging sensation in his hands on which he landed. Not having time to inspect the damaged, he pulled himself away from the bucking horse as fast as possible, and narrowly missed having his leg crushed. Once free of his riders the black beast loped down the street, making certain he would not be caught again. Even Darius doubted he could catch him now- the beast was bitter from being mounted without permission and this was Darius’ fault.
Now the man surely couldn’t be pointing his pistol at Darius, so the prince drew his sword. Darius had a gun of his own, but there would be no such luck shooting it off in the humid air of Silvereye. The sword was his best defense in this situation, but he wasn’t looking to use it.
“My apologies, sir” Darius said in a quiet voice. “The horse does not take kindly to strangers. I fear I do not appreciate you pointing a gun at my head either when we could simply talk it over.”
((OoC: Was totes going to write more but I feel I’m rambling. I’ll let ur dood respond. xD I'm also too lazy to check this over so it's probably filled with evil errors.))
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Kazgrax
Gremlin
The scorpion sleeps right in my hand
Posts: 12
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Post by Kazgrax on Jun 18, 2010 2:27:25 GMT -5
((OOC: Yay I spy a reply, now things are getting exciting! It's late so im typing a speed reply while the momentum is still here, forgive any errors lol))
Okay, in hindsight maybe it wasn't a great idea to leap on a strange animal as large and powerful as that monster of a horse. Maybe. With a grunt of surprise Kaz lurched foreword, pressing himself as close to the riders back as humanly possible to get away from the flailing hooves. Hastily shoving the pistol into the belt on his pants, both gloved hands smoothed across the beasts sides, searching for some sort of hold to dig into. Damn crazy animal. Just as he thought the thing was beginning to calm, like a bat out of hell it took off, forcing the mercenary to wrap a strong arm about the other mans waist for fear of being blown off backward.
Kaz had never been good with animals, actually any living thing. Since he was a child feral dogs, horses, birds, even rodents had regarded him with a fierce savagery one would expect only from mortal enemies. Not cats though, never cats. So it was of no surprise to find himself flying down the streets on a massive black war horse and pressed up against a strange with not much chance of an escape. He had to admit, on some level it was enjoyable. Peeking his head up to get some sense of bearing in the wild dash, what part of town were they in now? He quickly ducked down again, burying his face away from the stinging wind and mist that burned his cheeks.
The momentum was becoming almost bearable as he felt the horse come to a sudden standstill, throwing the weight of his body foreword and smothering the other man. He had ridden horses enough to know what was coming, or, tried to ride them. As he felt the powerful muscles underneath bunch and tense in preparation, Kaz felt the rider squirm out from in front of him and leap somewhat messily to the ground. Oh fuck. A cry of surprise was knocked from his lips as the horse twisted and bucked like a demon, flinging Kaz off its back like a sack of potatoes and to make sure the job was completed a thorough stomping on the pavement where their bodies would hit.
A crunch and a groan as his side met the earth, moving instinctually the mercenary rolled out of the way of the flailing hooves, stopping finally in the ditch. Sure he had expected the horse to throw him, but that was like a fucking catapult. Blinking dazedly to clear small blotches of color from his vision, he flexed his fingers and toes, wincing at a shock of pain that lanced up his right arm to the elbow. "The fuck was tha.." Strange, when he tried to speak it felt as if his tongue was swollen and too big for his mouth, tripping over the words and slurring them together like a drunk. He hadn't drank that much today, just a little at breaky.
When he managed to stagger into a half crouching half standing position, two dark figures assaulted his sight. Twins by the looks of it, with the same sword and stance, and clothing.. Wincing he slapped a hand to the bridge of his nose, rubbing furiously to clear a pounding headache that beat in time to his racing heart. His fingers were clumsy as he tugged at the pistol, the leather slippery from a dusting of rain made it impossibly difficult to keep a firm grip, and as he tugged it a bit too enthusiastically from the confines of his belt, it went spinning through the air and landed with a crack some feet away. That crack was the sound a bullet makes as a gun is fired, never throw a loaded gun children. There were some shrieks of surprise and fear, one woman screamed and slapped him with her purse as she ran by.
Kaz laughed uproariously, snagging the expensive looking bag from her manicured hand, the other man forgotten in the face of such fun that was plundering. Now as he regained his sense of balance and the orchestra in his head died down to a mourning whine, the mercenary looked over to the horses other passenger. Dully noting the long gleaming sword pointed in his direction. He shook his head, waving his uninjured hand in a shooing gesture. "You kin put that thing awa' boy." Dipping his fingers into the woman's possession he smiled as a cold hardness resisted his prying hand, pulling out to reveal an expensive looking gold neckless with large sapphire embellishments. "I got wat I wanted."
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Post by Locke (DP) on Jul 16, 2010 18:52:17 GMT -5
Darius had been the fool to hope the man would come to his senses and they could have a nice chat. The thug struggled to draw his pistol only to fling it carelessly onto the ground. The prince was having a hard time deciding if the hooligan was extremely shit-faced or had bumped his head when he fell. Darius would have laughed, but the gun went off when it had hit the ground, and the loud crack was a reminder that he was still in trouble. The bastard knew how to fight. Inebriated, he was still dangerous.
The prince strafed foreword as a defensive warning to the thug as he filched a purse off of a fleeing woman. Well, he couldn’t know that it was only the purse he was after, could he? The thief was like a child opening a box of chocolates for the first time. Darius couldn’t keep the look of disgust off of his face.
So…simple! So pitiful! I cannot believe this!
“May I, sir? No offense, but you did threaten me with a gun,” Darius reminded him. Then in an aggravated tone he added, “Twice.”
Darius looked down the blade of his small sword and studied the man. Man? No, this was no man. Men did not have horns. This was a fel’asar. The sheltered man had never seen on this close, but he had heard enough about them to know what to expect. Fel’asar were vagabonds, thieves, and demons. The fact that the stranger had acted out every dark deed expected of his race on fueled Darius’ ignorant prejudice towards the fel’asaris. Keeping his sword steady, the only sign Darius gave that he acknowledged the thief’s race was to frown disapprovingly at his horns, as if looking upset about it would fix the race issue.
“You’ve gone through all that trouble for a bloody necklace?” His tone was incredulous and slightly louder than normal. Could thieves be embarrassed? It was unlikely, but Darius could try. “You haven’t thought this one through, have you? You’re setting your sights a bit low.”
Taunting the criminal was a bad idea unless Darius wanted to start a fight. A fight was exactly what he was looking for. The prince realized this was risky business, but if he didn’t do anything now this fel’asar would walk away free. If Darius let the monster do that he would only cause more trouble. More people would die. Darius could at least do something about this predicament.
I must stop him.
Darius finally made a move, closing the inch or so left between the tip of his sword and the fel’asar to slash at the bastards knees. The prince wouldn’t kill him, that seemed too harsh, he would merely keep the thug from fleeing…or so he hoped.
“I’m sorry it has to end this way, sir,” Darius said, his voice sincere. “It’s simply my duty. I hope you’ll understand.”
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