Tender, juicy steaks flipping on the grill. Warm, fluffy loafs of banana bread sliced and given to the young, greedy hands of children. Women of all shapes and sizes dressed in their most frilly, bright clothes as they would strut down the cobblestone streets, attracting the drifting eyes of the surrounding men. The bustling chatter, the flashing lights, Rose Garden was truly a magnificent place to be after dark! Although the dark hours of Rose Garden submerged the town in beauty, in the deeper, darker cracks of the masterpiece did danger fester. While the women twisted and turned on the dance floor, other girls were beaten and bribed in the alleyways. While the fanatic men drank their nights away, the poor man drank down his sorrows, only for his wallet to be robbed once too intoxicated and local Rune Knights too distracted to do anything about it. It was a dangerous time of night, but a sacrifice you must give for the pleasures of after dark activities. Tonight, a man would find himself on the side of ecstasy, ambling down the cobblestone path in the avenue of bars and clubs. He could feel music pound like thunder through his sandals from nearby buildings and the chit chat from men and women grouped together. As of late, he's gotten used to the city life. Maybe not the howl of trains that would grind in his ears, but the after-dark life was where the mage would thrive! Shakil let his eyes wander about, reviewing the seemingly countless options he had when it came to places to splurge. He only had enough jewels to go to a few cheap places or one expensive night out, but struggled in deciding where to go. Perhaps a club full of beauties, dancing for his delight, or a fine night out with even finer wine and meat to satisfy his deep, swelling hunger? There was no answer the caramel skinned man could give. Lost in thought, he would continue to stroll down the street, blinded by this question. So blinded, that he would be too distracted to pay attention to the very crowd before him. A small thud pushed against his left shoulder, quickly returning back to reality, turning to face what looked to be large, muscular men that he walked into. With arms crossed over his chest, Shakil smiled, "Watch where you two are going, you might walk into a well with such clumsiness. Good day. . .!" he would wave, beginning to walk away, only for the same shoulder to be grabbed again but the beefy, strong hands of one of the strangers. Shakil would turn to face them once more, the pair of thuggish looking men red with anger. "We ain't apologizing for nothing for no one. You the one who walked into us, pal! Apologize!" the largest one demanded, the smaller one nodding in agreement. "I beg your pardon? Boys, I have a night of fun and play ahead of me. I haven't the time for these shenanigans. Now, if you excuse me. . ." he would insist, attempting to pull away, the grip only becoming tighter. "You're 'comin with us, pal!" he growled. Like so, the bustling chit chat of Rose Garden became muted, and the lights the submerged the town dimmed to darkness as the mage was dragged into the deepest alleyway he's seen. With one big thud, the thugs would pin the caramel skinned man into the wall, the other cracking their knuckles with a toothy grin. "You'd ought to cough something up, or we'll beat ya half to death!" he cackled. Shakil would sighed and shook his head, "I only have so much to spoil myself with. If I gave you so much as a jewel, that's one jewel less I'd be able to spend on a fine dinner or a luxurious woman to entertain me. . . as men, we both understand the treasure money is, right? Or, at least, true men do. I wouldn't expect pigs to understand. . . small world we live in, huh?" he would snicker with his usual smirk. He was honest in his words, but the thugs wouldn't take the honesty kindly. "Then your cape! That has a shitload of gold and stuff on it. That'll do. Hand it over, buddy!" the skinnier one would demand again, pointing to his white cloak, decorated in precious gems and gold from travels. Shakil shook his head again. "This is far too dear to me for me to hand over so easily. Even in one of the hundred heavens that I'd do such a thing, you both wouldn't be able to appreciate it. What I can offer is a world map. Perhaps you can see sights and travel more? It opens the mind, builds character, and nurtures the soul. You both are in dire need of it. . ." he snickered again. Their faces flushed red with anger, that of a tomato. The larger, burliest one grit his teeth together, along with the crack of the knuckles, "I'd oughta kill you! Hand them over now!" he shouted. It would seem that things were heating up in the chilly alleyways. WC: 864/2,500 |   MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS |
Wanted! Castle Killer! (Job/Sith/Shakil)
Shakil
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Lineage : Power of Apocalypse
Position : None
Posts : 346
Guild : Guildless
Cosmic Coins : 0
Dungeon Tokens : 0
Mentor : N/A
Experience : 325
Character Sheet
First Skill: Curse Of Oni
Second Skill: - - -
Third Skill:
Sith
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- 
- 
- 
- 
- 
- 
- 
-
Lineage : Gingerbread Man
Position : None
Posts : 97
Guild : Black Sails
Cosmic Coins : 0
Dungeon Tokens : 0
Experience : 475
Character Sheet
First Skill: ReQuip: The Blademaster
Second Skill:
Third Skill:
Darius sighed, finding himself once again in the gorgeous city of Rose Garden. The Desierto mage donned on his usual clothes: a white button-down shirt with the WFTC logo sown onto it, his signature headband, and his arms and neck complemented by high-class, golden jewellery. His gorgeous, golden eyes darted from side to side, fully admiring the amount of content that lay in this city's bustling streets. Despite many thoughts entering Darius' head, most of them predominantly being, where is the nearest strip club or brothel that I can go to, he had a job to do. The young swordsman was on a mission to hunt the elusive Castle Killer, which was ironic, considering that a 10 foot tall crocodile man usually stands out in a crowd.
The mage sighed as he continued to wander the streets, walking by a nice food stall and buying a stick of barbecue. But as he was about to pay for the meal, Darius' peripheral vision caught something quite intriguing: a pair of thugs harassing a young man. Darius couldn't discern what the victim looked like, but he figured that if he could save the dolt who got himself in such a compromising situation, then Darius could probably get paid for being a 'good' samaritan...plus, he had been itching for a little violence since he arrived.
"Let's have some fun~" Darius grinned, strolling a little too happily into the deep, dark alleyway that the other man had been dragged into.
As the Desierto mage walked in on the scene, he noticed a multitude of things. Firstly, the two thugs seemed to suffer from a profound lack of education, and secondly, the victim in question looked like he was from Desierto. The man had olive skin, golden eyes much like Darius', and jet black hair, being draped in the ostentatious gold and jewels that most Desiertan's adored flaunting.
The thugs had not yet noticed the third party peering in on their joyous little interaction together. Hell, Darius was thinking of simply not intruding, considering how calm and level-headed the other man was, either meaning that this stranger was far more powerful than these thugs and was just providing himself with some entertainment, or that he was an unfeeling sociopath...not that the two were mutually exclusive. However, upon them threatening the man to "hand over the goods now", Darius decided to step in, although not due to his altruism, more on the lines of "these thugs are starting to annoy me and I want to hurt them".
"Alrighty, that's enough, friends." Darius casually ordered, munching on his stick of BBQ as he did so, "Let the poor bastard go, and you can have my jewellery."
"Who the fuck are you, asshole?" The smaller thug growled, both of their attentions shifting towards Darius, the large man's grip on the victim loosening.
"Just a beautiful man looking for some honest work," He replied smoothly, taking another bite of his food, "not that I can say the same for you two brutes."
The white-haired mage peered over to his fellow country-man and asked, "Didn't think I'd see another Desiertan here, you wanna take care of these thugs or should I?"
"I'mma kill you! You asshole!" The smaller mugger ran towards the Black Sails mage, unaware of the amount of hurt that he was about to go through.
"I've been called much worse by my boss," Darius quipped, smooth pivoting to the side of the other man, before throwing his open palm at the thug's throat, striking viciously at the man's windpipe.
The smaller thug keeled over as soon as he was struck, struggling to breathe, Darius shrugged off the man in agony and looked towards the bigger brute, "Okay, so, I may have crushed your boyfriend's windpipe...given my expertise in injuring other people, I'm guessing he has a few minutes before the poor bastard suffocates. That is, unless, you rush off to the hospital and save him! Then, you two can happily live in this shithole of an alleyway for the rest of your lives."
The bigger man roared, completely letting go of the other golden-eyed man and charged towards Darius in a fit of rage. The swordsman sighed, "God...dammit, I was hoping you would listen to me."
In a mere instant, two daggers appeared in Darius' hands. The ReQuip mage then smoothly dodged the other thug, before spinning around and impaling one dagger into his left thigh, kicking the now screaming man against the wall, and raising a dagger to his throat.
"Okay, you gigantic moron, answer me these questions and I might let both of you go."
"W-w-what do you wanna know?" The big thug complied, now terrified out of his mind and in unbearable pain.
"Where do I find Garon James...the Castle Killer?" Darius asked.
"What? I don't kn-"
Darius pressed the dagger even further into the man's throat, "You do realise that if you're of no use to me, I can kill you out of self-defence?"
"R-right...I heard he's in the sewer...please let me go."
The warrior chuckled before releasing the dagger from his throat, "Leave, pray you get to the hospital before your pal suffocates to death."
Darius then walked towards the other man, glancing quickly to the side as he watched the thugs hobbled off into the shadows, "You're welcome, by the way," he told the would-be victim.
"Although...I have a sneaking suspicion that you were more than capable of handling yourself. What's your name, Desiertan?" He would then introduce himself, "I'm Darius Al-Sayyid, member of the West Fiore Trading Company."
Word Count: 928/2,500
The mage sighed as he continued to wander the streets, walking by a nice food stall and buying a stick of barbecue. But as he was about to pay for the meal, Darius' peripheral vision caught something quite intriguing: a pair of thugs harassing a young man. Darius couldn't discern what the victim looked like, but he figured that if he could save the dolt who got himself in such a compromising situation, then Darius could probably get paid for being a 'good' samaritan...plus, he had been itching for a little violence since he arrived.
"Let's have some fun~" Darius grinned, strolling a little too happily into the deep, dark alleyway that the other man had been dragged into.
As the Desierto mage walked in on the scene, he noticed a multitude of things. Firstly, the two thugs seemed to suffer from a profound lack of education, and secondly, the victim in question looked like he was from Desierto. The man had olive skin, golden eyes much like Darius', and jet black hair, being draped in the ostentatious gold and jewels that most Desiertan's adored flaunting.
The thugs had not yet noticed the third party peering in on their joyous little interaction together. Hell, Darius was thinking of simply not intruding, considering how calm and level-headed the other man was, either meaning that this stranger was far more powerful than these thugs and was just providing himself with some entertainment, or that he was an unfeeling sociopath...not that the two were mutually exclusive. However, upon them threatening the man to "hand over the goods now", Darius decided to step in, although not due to his altruism, more on the lines of "these thugs are starting to annoy me and I want to hurt them".
"Alrighty, that's enough, friends." Darius casually ordered, munching on his stick of BBQ as he did so, "Let the poor bastard go, and you can have my jewellery."
"Who the fuck are you, asshole?" The smaller thug growled, both of their attentions shifting towards Darius, the large man's grip on the victim loosening.
"Just a beautiful man looking for some honest work," He replied smoothly, taking another bite of his food, "not that I can say the same for you two brutes."
The white-haired mage peered over to his fellow country-man and asked, "Didn't think I'd see another Desiertan here, you wanna take care of these thugs or should I?"
"I'mma kill you! You asshole!" The smaller mugger ran towards the Black Sails mage, unaware of the amount of hurt that he was about to go through.
"I've been called much worse by my boss," Darius quipped, smooth pivoting to the side of the other man, before throwing his open palm at the thug's throat, striking viciously at the man's windpipe.
The smaller thug keeled over as soon as he was struck, struggling to breathe, Darius shrugged off the man in agony and looked towards the bigger brute, "Okay, so, I may have crushed your boyfriend's windpipe...given my expertise in injuring other people, I'm guessing he has a few minutes before the poor bastard suffocates. That is, unless, you rush off to the hospital and save him! Then, you two can happily live in this shithole of an alleyway for the rest of your lives."
The bigger man roared, completely letting go of the other golden-eyed man and charged towards Darius in a fit of rage. The swordsman sighed, "God...dammit, I was hoping you would listen to me."
In a mere instant, two daggers appeared in Darius' hands. The ReQuip mage then smoothly dodged the other thug, before spinning around and impaling one dagger into his left thigh, kicking the now screaming man against the wall, and raising a dagger to his throat.
"Okay, you gigantic moron, answer me these questions and I might let both of you go."
"W-w-what do you wanna know?" The big thug complied, now terrified out of his mind and in unbearable pain.
"Where do I find Garon James...the Castle Killer?" Darius asked.
"What? I don't kn-"
Darius pressed the dagger even further into the man's throat, "You do realise that if you're of no use to me, I can kill you out of self-defence?"
"R-right...I heard he's in the sewer...please let me go."
The warrior chuckled before releasing the dagger from his throat, "Leave, pray you get to the hospital before your pal suffocates to death."
Darius then walked towards the other man, glancing quickly to the side as he watched the thugs hobbled off into the shadows, "You're welcome, by the way," he told the would-be victim.
"Although...I have a sneaking suspicion that you were more than capable of handling yourself. What's your name, Desiertan?" He would then introduce himself, "I'm Darius Al-Sayyid, member of the West Fiore Trading Company."
Word Count: 928/2,500
Shakil- -
Lineage : Power of Apocalypse
Position : None
Posts : 346
Guild : Guildless
Cosmic Coins : 0
Dungeon Tokens : 0
Mentor : N/A
Experience : 325
Character Sheet
First Skill: Curse Of Oni
Second Skill: - - -
Third Skill:
Shakil felt the tension rise between the two men and he, realizing that the time for him to defend himself was nearing. Although these types of fights were not uncommon to him considering what expensive adornments he wore, he still choked on his breath and felt his chest become heavy. What other feeling was there to combat? While others may indulge in the lightness of their forms and their adrenaline coated muscles aching to be used, Shakil still experienced the before-battle nerves. But even this was pleasant for the man. If it was a fight they wanted, it was a fight they would get. Or, so he was led on to believe. To his relative surprise, a man with long chiffon locks and beautiful, tawny skin joined the fray with a barbecue stick . Or rather, he interrupted what was about to begin. Shakil would only rest his hands on his hips and shake his head, a disappointed smile cracking his lips, though eyes fixed on the trio just ahead of him. From that point on, the scuffle went on as it would typically would; a heroic, strong man stepping in to save the day against two muscle-brained thugs, some trash talk and a few lunges following that. When the stranger would ask who between the two should dealt with them, Shakil was quick to shrug. Though, it didn't matter in the end as one of the brutes would lunge for the chiffon-haired man, only to have a crushed windpipe in the end, and the second one following quickly afterwards and reaching a similar fate. The tussle was quickly resolved when the remaining thug would yield and immediately be interrogated. Although the words went in and through his ears, Shakil had hugged his stomach, suppressing the urge to break into a laughter. The tawny skinned man would then approach him in greeting, Shakil returning to a normal state of giddiness soon after, "Nicely done, Darius. Very nice!" he would chuckle, placing a hand on his acquaintance's shoulder, "That being said, I could've very well handled my own. Dangerous streets are familiar ones my feet have walked. You may call me Shakil, if you wish. An equal pleasure to meet a fellow Desiertan, men you do not see so often in such a busy country, yes?" he continued. His smirk would then morph into that of a grin when suddenly recalling the events that just happened. A brawl, of course, leaving two broken and bloodied men and a terribly curious one. Darius spoke of a man who went by Garon James, or the Castle Killer, for quite some time during the tussle and couldn't help be provoke some thought of Shakil's. He fixed his gaze back to Darius once more and cackled, "Tell me, who is this Garon James you speak so eagerly of? A boyfriend, perhaps? Arch nemesis? Speak of it and may you find a unknown help in me. Lend this poor bastard a few words, would you?" he insisted. It was only expected that he would offer his assistance after Darius's own unsuspected assistance. Although a night of fun and play awaited Shakil, he felt obligated to provide him with some sort of appreciation among men. WC: 1,403/2,500 | MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS |
Sith- - - - - - - - - -
Lineage : Gingerbread Man
Position : None
Posts : 97
Guild : Black Sails
Cosmic Coins : 0
Dungeon Tokens : 0
Experience : 475
Character Sheet
First Skill: ReQuip: The Blademaster
Second Skill:
Third Skill:
Darius' brow would simply raise as the Desiertan before him clutched his stomach, attempting to suppress laughter from escaping his lips. And as the ReQuip mage closed in on the would-be victim, the man chuckled and applaud Darius' flawless takedown of the two goons. The man, who identified himself as Shakil, placed a hand on Darius' shoulder, a gesture which visibly irked him, as his eyes glazed over at the hand, and then back at Shakil in a mildly annoyed manner.
"Oh yeah, you could definitely handle yourself...which was why you were shoved in a corner about to get stabbed by two bumbling idiots." Darius responded, brushing off Shakil's hand, and shrugging, "But hey, I don't know what weird, kinky shit you're into."
Darius examined the stranger before him, Shakil seemed like an eccentric lad. The way he spoke was one with eloquence and a suffocating amount of optimism and excitement. The swordsman sighed as Shakil asked about Garon James, and let his seemingly wild imagination let loose on all the possible things that the crocodile-man could be.
Darius raised his hand up at Shakil, gesturing him to stop talking, "Okay, okay I'll tell you...jeez," He sighed, scratching his head before debriefing the energetic man, "Garon James is a wanted felon, and I'm here to collect his bounty. He's convicted of killing multiple people, destruction of property, and a bunch of other shit. He's known as the Castle Killer because he's known to be strong enough to rip apart castle walls with his bare hands...that, and he genetically enhanced himself to be a crocodile-man hybrid."
The white-haired mage took a deep breath, realising how out of his depth he was if he came face to face with a criminal of that caliber. The pay for this job was amazing, but it was only so good because so many people had failed in apprehending the monster. Fuck, if he helps us, he'll want a cut of the pay, Darius thought, honestly, I probably can't kill this guy alone...but I really don't want to split this cut. The swordsman sighed, thinking hard before coming up with a solution, eh, I'll just let myself get a bigger cut, a nice and fair 70/30 share.
"If you want to come along, you're welcome to," Darius invited, adding, "just...uh, know that there's a small chance that he'll rip you in half with his bare hands."
Darius began walking towards the main road again, his back facing Shakil, and gestured for the man to follow him. However, the swordsman looked down to see a sewer grate, "Damn, as much as I'd love to back to civilisation..."
He removed the sewer grate and tossed it aside, going down the ladder that lead to the city's underground, amidst crawling down the ladder he called out, "You coming or what?"
What Darius didn't know, however, was that upon Shakil climbing down the ladder, a man dressed in tattered rags holding a dagger would greet the two. He charged at the two, yelling incoherent nonsense, but remained nonetheless dangerous as he held a dagger which seemed coated in some strange, malevolent green ichor.
"Shit." Darius uttered, ready to fight back the man.
Word Count: 1,461/2,500
"Oh yeah, you could definitely handle yourself...which was why you were shoved in a corner about to get stabbed by two bumbling idiots." Darius responded, brushing off Shakil's hand, and shrugging, "But hey, I don't know what weird, kinky shit you're into."
Darius examined the stranger before him, Shakil seemed like an eccentric lad. The way he spoke was one with eloquence and a suffocating amount of optimism and excitement. The swordsman sighed as Shakil asked about Garon James, and let his seemingly wild imagination let loose on all the possible things that the crocodile-man could be.
Darius raised his hand up at Shakil, gesturing him to stop talking, "Okay, okay I'll tell you...jeez," He sighed, scratching his head before debriefing the energetic man, "Garon James is a wanted felon, and I'm here to collect his bounty. He's convicted of killing multiple people, destruction of property, and a bunch of other shit. He's known as the Castle Killer because he's known to be strong enough to rip apart castle walls with his bare hands...that, and he genetically enhanced himself to be a crocodile-man hybrid."
The white-haired mage took a deep breath, realising how out of his depth he was if he came face to face with a criminal of that caliber. The pay for this job was amazing, but it was only so good because so many people had failed in apprehending the monster. Fuck, if he helps us, he'll want a cut of the pay, Darius thought, honestly, I probably can't kill this guy alone...but I really don't want to split this cut. The swordsman sighed, thinking hard before coming up with a solution, eh, I'll just let myself get a bigger cut, a nice and fair 70/30 share.
"If you want to come along, you're welcome to," Darius invited, adding, "just...uh, know that there's a small chance that he'll rip you in half with his bare hands."
Darius began walking towards the main road again, his back facing Shakil, and gestured for the man to follow him. However, the swordsman looked down to see a sewer grate, "Damn, as much as I'd love to back to civilisation..."
He removed the sewer grate and tossed it aside, going down the ladder that lead to the city's underground, amidst crawling down the ladder he called out, "You coming or what?"
What Darius didn't know, however, was that upon Shakil climbing down the ladder, a man dressed in tattered rags holding a dagger would greet the two. He charged at the two, yelling incoherent nonsense, but remained nonetheless dangerous as he held a dagger which seemed coated in some strange, malevolent green ichor.
"Shit." Darius uttered, ready to fight back the man.
Word Count: 1,461/2,500
Shakil- -
Lineage : Power of Apocalypse
Position : None
Posts : 346
Guild : Guildless
Cosmic Coins : 0
Dungeon Tokens : 0
Mentor : N/A
Experience : 325
Character Sheet
First Skill: Curse Of Oni
Second Skill: - - -
Third Skill:
Darius came off as quite the tough, thick skinned man who seemingly lived off of earnings from bounties and lived a life of danger and adventure all the same. It was quite the exciting thought, as most spent their days in the comfort their nation's have provided for them, few stepping foot outside of those comfort zones and fewer returning as the same person. Shakil's face lit up as Darius would yield to his pestering, eyes twinkling with curiosity and a grin curving his lips, "Ooh. . . sounds scary! Though his nickname is most peculiar, since castles can crumble quite easily if one put their minds to it. Wouldn't you agree? You would, wouldn't you?" he cackled, hopelessly amused by what he thought to be a clever rebuttal. Shakil had proven to be one of the more easily impressed brutes, whether it be by himself or of others. His laughter settled and grin morphed into a soft simper, staring at his unusually quiet companion. But when his silence broke into a familiar silvery voice, a childlike excitement transformed Shakil's face, "Excellent! Perhaps it is I that will be saving you this time? Will you be my damsel in distress?" he bumped his shoulder into Darius's, a mischievous smirk curving his lips, knowing full well that it left nothing but a bad taste in his companion's mouth. The physical form of teasing left the brown haired foreigner giddy and with a warm feeling in his chest. When the bounty hunter twisted into the opposite direction and ambled forward, Shakil quickly trailed behind him until he was to his side, walking at the same pace. Though, what would begin to seem like an on-foot road trip came to an abrupt halt as Darius would pause at the sight of a sewer grate, a feature Shakil had never thought of exploring, though it quickly became clear that that's what they were about to do. Though his face still radiated with excitement, his eyes couldn't help but droop in the realization of this. He was beckoned and nodded, making way to the entrance and down the ladder. All seemed well for the pair, having settled a tussle between thugs already, Shakil remained alert, though clearly distracted by the various trails of mud and other smelly substances that embedded themselves in the stone walls that surrounded them as he climbed down. Only a few steps away from feet touching the ground of the sewer, the belligerent yells of a worn, hoarse voice echoed through the tunnels, turning to see an armed, poorly dressed man who lunged at them in greeting. Well, more lunged at Darius than Shakil. Still, Shakil couldn't help but wear a fanatic grin on his countenance. "Shit? This is a time for cheers, my dear Darius! It has finally gotten interesting!" he shouted excitedly. Shakil would hop down from the few remaining steps of the ladder, only a few feet into the air, and towards the dashing stranger. With legs extended, they slammed into his shoulders, making them both stumble nearly to the ground. Shakil frowned, eyes finally catching sight of the green substance that coated its blade. His eyes rolled and hand gently slapping his own cheek, "Ooooh. . . so that's what you were so stressed about. Well, this makes things more dangerous, huh?" he jested, though his voice not as giddy as it most usually was. Still, the thrill of combat possessed him with a certain pleasure, even if hand to hand combat wasn't an area in which he thrived. The stranger returned to his feet, eyes wet and flashing with bloodlust. It was quite the unattractive face, if it was anything Shakil had noticed. He turned to face Darius with a surprisingly relaxed expression, eyes soft and lips quirking up into an even softer smile, "We shouldn't kill him, right? Right? Don't you agree?" he queried. WC: 2,053/2,500 Notes: DM me when you post, or tag Ezra Aurence or Ahote when you do! I miss things easily, sorry you had to wait so long! :c | MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS |
Sith- - - - - - - - - -
Lineage : Gingerbread Man
Position : None
Posts : 97
Guild : Black Sails
Cosmic Coins : 0
Dungeon Tokens : 0
Experience : 475
Character Sheet
First Skill: ReQuip: The Blademaster
Second Skill:
Third Skill:
Darius' eyes leered upon the Desiertan before him as he spoke, his curiosity piqued regarding the story of how he got here. The way that Shakil spoke with an optimistic and eloquent manner (which Darius found all kinds of irritating), caused the mercenary to take a deep, almost exasperated sigh. Despite knowing Shakil for the cumulative time of 15 minutes, Darius already felt like throwing him into a dumpster and setting the damn thing on fire.
"Yeah, yeah whatever," Darius said, waving off Shakil's incessant pestering, muttering, "god, you're weird."
Upon the mercenary's yielding to Shakil's badgering, the happier Desiertan gleefully expressed his childlike excitement. Darius' eyebrow curved in response, well, he responded way too happily at the prospect of being ripped to shreds. I'm starting to think he's either a masochist or an idiot...although the two aren't mutually exclusive.
"Sure, Shakil; let me just put on my dress, curtsy, then bend over for you while I'm at it." He sarcastically jabbed, visibly getting irked at the the other man's gleeful gesture.
A small, sly smirk appeared on Darius' lips as he saw Shakil physically react to the prospect of entering the sewer to search for Garon, "What's wrong, your highness? Afraid to get a little down and dirty?"
The mercenary didn't wait for an answer, however, and simply climbed down the sewer grate. Despite the gorgeous city that was atop the sewers, the ladder leading down felt grimey and rusty, a sensation that Darius was very much not keen on feeling on his hands. His face contorted in disgust, climbing down as fast as possible, but not before a ragged man with a dagger charged at the two.
"And it wasn't interesting when you were getting mugged like 30 minutes ago?" Darius shot back, watching Shakil have a turn at taking down someone.
While the black-haired counterpart wasn't as bad at fighting as Darius had guessed, it's clear that Shakil hadn't had any extensive training in combat, as he stumbled into the ground awkwardly. Darius sighed as his "partner" finally noticed the dagger which was the cause of such worry.
"The dagger? Nooooooo," Darius responded, rolling his eyes, "I was scared of the deranged bum's wonderful personality."
With the attacker's attention on Shakil, Darius found himself in an easily defusable situation. He sighed, walked towards the attacker and in a smooth, fluid motion, disarmed the poisoned knife and pinned the man against the wall. Darius' hand tightly grasping at the homeless man's throat.
"No, we don't kill him." The mercenary answered, before diverting his eyes to the man who had just attempted to kill the two. "Not yet."
"Okay hobo, answer these questions and I'll let you go live your miserable life," Darius' eyes narrowed, with his inflection changing to a more serious tone, "Where is Garon James?"
The man simply spit in response, snarling, "How should I know?"
Darius groaned in response, "Don't play games with me, I know he's shacking up in this shithole, and from the way you dress, you don't exactly look like you've been living topside."
Before the man could respond, Darius simply said, "Man, I don't feel like playing games today."
With his free hand, Darius grabbed the man's arm and violently twisted it, a loud snap ringing out, followed by an agonising yell. "FUCK, OKAY, OKAY, I'LL TELL YOU," after a few whimpers in pain, the man caught his breath and instructed, "He's in a large lair near the center of the sewer, all the pipes lead there..."
Darius smiled, "See? That wasn't so hard...now was it?"
"You broke my fucking arm, asshole?"
"And be happy that I didn't cut it off. The mercenary threatened, before releasing his grip...although before the homeless man could leave, he was met with a swift jab to the face. The hobo's head got knocked against the sewer wall, his back sliding down against it as he slumped over, knocked out.
Before the two could seek out Garon, though, the sound from their encounter attracted a swarm of deadly looking locusts to chase after them in response.
"Just one after a fucking 'nother..." Darius muttered, looking over to Shakil, "I don't have any weapons that could kill all of them at once, so unless you wanna hightail it out of here, I strongly suggest you pull something out of your ass to kill them."
Word Count: 2,188/2,500
"Yeah, yeah whatever," Darius said, waving off Shakil's incessant pestering, muttering, "god, you're weird."
Upon the mercenary's yielding to Shakil's badgering, the happier Desiertan gleefully expressed his childlike excitement. Darius' eyebrow curved in response, well, he responded way too happily at the prospect of being ripped to shreds. I'm starting to think he's either a masochist or an idiot...although the two aren't mutually exclusive.
"Sure, Shakil; let me just put on my dress, curtsy, then bend over for you while I'm at it." He sarcastically jabbed, visibly getting irked at the the other man's gleeful gesture.
A small, sly smirk appeared on Darius' lips as he saw Shakil physically react to the prospect of entering the sewer to search for Garon, "What's wrong, your highness? Afraid to get a little down and dirty?"
The mercenary didn't wait for an answer, however, and simply climbed down the sewer grate. Despite the gorgeous city that was atop the sewers, the ladder leading down felt grimey and rusty, a sensation that Darius was very much not keen on feeling on his hands. His face contorted in disgust, climbing down as fast as possible, but not before a ragged man with a dagger charged at the two.
"And it wasn't interesting when you were getting mugged like 30 minutes ago?" Darius shot back, watching Shakil have a turn at taking down someone.
While the black-haired counterpart wasn't as bad at fighting as Darius had guessed, it's clear that Shakil hadn't had any extensive training in combat, as he stumbled into the ground awkwardly. Darius sighed as his "partner" finally noticed the dagger which was the cause of such worry.
"The dagger? Nooooooo," Darius responded, rolling his eyes, "I was scared of the deranged bum's wonderful personality."
With the attacker's attention on Shakil, Darius found himself in an easily defusable situation. He sighed, walked towards the attacker and in a smooth, fluid motion, disarmed the poisoned knife and pinned the man against the wall. Darius' hand tightly grasping at the homeless man's throat.
"No, we don't kill him." The mercenary answered, before diverting his eyes to the man who had just attempted to kill the two. "Not yet."
"Okay hobo, answer these questions and I'll let you go live your miserable life," Darius' eyes narrowed, with his inflection changing to a more serious tone, "Where is Garon James?"
The man simply spit in response, snarling, "How should I know?"
Darius groaned in response, "Don't play games with me, I know he's shacking up in this shithole, and from the way you dress, you don't exactly look like you've been living topside."
Before the man could respond, Darius simply said, "Man, I don't feel like playing games today."
With his free hand, Darius grabbed the man's arm and violently twisted it, a loud snap ringing out, followed by an agonising yell. "FUCK, OKAY, OKAY, I'LL TELL YOU," after a few whimpers in pain, the man caught his breath and instructed, "He's in a large lair near the center of the sewer, all the pipes lead there..."
Darius smiled, "See? That wasn't so hard...now was it?"
"You broke my fucking arm, asshole?"
"And be happy that I didn't cut it off. The mercenary threatened, before releasing his grip...although before the homeless man could leave, he was met with a swift jab to the face. The hobo's head got knocked against the sewer wall, his back sliding down against it as he slumped over, knocked out.
Before the two could seek out Garon, though, the sound from their encounter attracted a swarm of deadly looking locusts to chase after them in response.
"Just one after a fucking 'nother..." Darius muttered, looking over to Shakil, "I don't have any weapons that could kill all of them at once, so unless you wanna hightail it out of here, I strongly suggest you pull something out of your ass to kill them."
Word Count: 2,188/2,500
