Murder is an art~ (open)

by **Lyth** on October 2nd, 2011, 7:38 pm

OOCDon't worry X3 I like what you did with him. Also.. I've never really rped a fight before, so if it seems a little one-sided, or something seems off, please point it out so I can correct it

Lyth didn't normally drop his guard so easily, actually turning his back to the man. It was a novice mistake, his judgement clouded by his earlier burst of emotion, and he would pay for it one way or another. He truthfully didn't realize his mistake until he felt a hand slip under his cloak, eyes going wide. The one moment his guard was down! He tried to grab for the offending hand, but it was pulled away too quickly, and his dagger came into 'Mouse's' hands.

Lyth spun to face the man, ready to rip the dagger out of his grip (and possibly get him acquainted with it's killing edge), but he was already in the motion of throwing the knife through the air. To step in now would just end up with him getting hurt. So he watched as it's red tip pierced through the air. It was a bad throw, he could see by the trajectory of the point, just grazing the thigh of one of the bar brawlers. That would only succeed in bringing an angry and enraged man over to them.

And not a moment later, the larger of the two brawlers shuffled his way over to them, a look that promised pain and potential death in his eyes. Lyth didn't get a chance to say anything before 'Mouse' had blamed the entire incident on him. The ridiculousness of it all made Lyth hesitate a moment, numbly gripping the dagger that had been pressed into his hand. It felt awkward and heavy, and Lyth felt himself missing the feel of his own weapon. He'd have to get that back soon. Briefly wondering if he'd be able to talk his way out of a fight, he could see just from the look in the giant's eyes that he wouldn't be dissuaded. A sigh left the half-blood's lips, flicking his glare at 'Mouse'.

"You realize if he doesn't kill me, you are a dead man."

Lyth flipped the dagger so it was held in a reverse grip, taking a few steps away from the counter so it didn't hinder his movements. It wouldn't matter if he was faster if he couldn't dodge right when he needed to. Seeing as he was free to move, Lyth slid his smile into place. He'd have fun bleeding out this man. "What the hell are you smiling about?!" The man roared, lifting his fist into the air, swinging it down in an attempt to club Lyth across the face. The half-blood slipped underneath the blow, bringing the dagger up and letting the man's own movement create a cut on his underarm near his shoulder.

Hmm, it wasn't as deep as he would have liked it, he'd have to put a bit of force behind it next time. The man snarled, turning again to face Lyth. Of course the white haired male still had his smile in place, which only angered the brute further. He came running at Lyth, screaming rage and swing his fists. Every time he swung at the man, Lyth would duck under the blow, leave a cut in his arms or side, and retreat a few feet. It was during one of these retreats that the brute was able to take hold of his shoulder, yanking him off balance and throwing him flat on his back on top of one of the tables.

It left Lyth disoriented long enough for his attacker to pull back, land a hard hit in his stomach. The blow winded the man, leaving him gasping for air, a terrible fire burning in his abdomen. A feral grin crossed the brute's face, bringing a rain of hits down on the smaller male. Lyth grit his teeth, trying desperately to get enough air into his lungs to be able to fight back, arms up to protect his face. One of the man's hits glanced off his shoulder, giving him an opening to strike. The dagger came up, finding it's mark in the man's chest, Lyth making sure to plunge it in as deep as he could.

The brute howled, falling back. Lyth had let go of the dagger hilt, and now it was sticking out of the man like a sick joke. The man screamed in a mix of pain and horror, looking down at the hilt. The half-blood rolled off of the table, groaning as his body protested, ignoring the screaming man and picking up his familiar red tipped dagger. It felt so much better in his hand, like an extension of himself. Only now did his attention drift to the man he had stuck, smiling lightly. "Just pull it out." he said.

That was probably the worst thing the man could do for himself, and Lyth knew it. With the dagger in him, the major arteries that the dagger had cut were blocked, preventing the man from bleeding out. If he was smart, he'd go find a healer before he even attempted to pull it out. Lyth was counting on the man being a little lacking in intellect, and he wasn't disappointed when the man gripped the handle, and with a scream filled with pain, pulled the dagger out of himself, releasing a gush of blood that spilled out on to the floor in a large red puddle. The man fell silent, before falling over dead.

Lyth watched the red pool settle after being disturbed by the falling body, a twisted grin threatening to pull on to his lips. He smothered it with his all too fake smile, walking over to the body. He gingerly picked up the borrowed dagger out of the red pool, wiping it off with the man's shirt until it was clean of blood. Pretending to give the blade a look over, he found 'Mouse' in it's reflection. With a flick of his wrist, he returned the dagger to its owner, the blade sinking into the wall just beside 'Mouse's' head.

Pity, he had hoped his aim was better than that. He would he loved to catch the brat it the forehead with his own dagger. Oh well, the anger he had felt towards him was gone, replaced with the elation of seeing so much blood. Lyth came back over, pulling up a chair beside the other, smiling lightly. "So, what were we talking about again?" he asked, watching the man's reaction.

by **Darik** on October 2nd, 2011, 9:01 pm

oocNa dude, it was great!

“I would hope not, we have such a lovely friendship in the making.” The white haired male, empowered with the thought of Darik’s friendship went and fought the brute. To say the least it was mostly one sided. Till the brute lifted Lyth on the table and pummeled him. That was painful to watch and Darik considered helping him. He stopped himself when he realized he didn’t want a man who couldn’t fight for himself fighting by his side. Especially when there was going to be more than one guard in the heist.

So he was pleased when Lyth finally stabbed him in the chest. He even used his words to cause him to kill himself. He was perfect. Though it was a bit obnoxious he was almost skewered by his own knife. But what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Right?

The man asked him a question but he didn’t even respond. He got up and picked up both of their mugs full with liquid. He walked over the dead body and poured both the beers on it. It had a dual purpose, checking if he was alive, and partly making it seem he died drunker than he was. With the beer gone, he leaned over the man. He searched him, looking for valuables. He found a pouch and undid the string tying it to the giant’s belt. He took a quick look in it. It had money in it, but not much, gambling had almost dried the brute clean. It was so resisting to keep it for himself, but he must appear generous.

He took ahold of the bag and threw it to Lyth. When he caught Darik did his first ever lecture. “Remember to loot your bodies after you kill them. You may not get a chance if you don’t do it immediately.” Darik resumed his spot on his tipped seat letting his eyes drift to the right every so often. He was making sure the men didn’t retaliate for their companion dieing. They were immersed in their game…for now.

”That was fun. Seems like you have earned the right to my name. It’s Darik.” He held out his hand to shake Lyth’s. "Had to make sure you were the real deal. Many people in Sunberth act like your friends when they aren’t.” He withdrew his hand from the handshake. Thing was, he had just called Lyth a friend. If Lyth knew what he was thinking and wasn’t a psychopath he would run away in terror.

“Now I may need to… contact you at a later date for a very important job. That is, if you like killing.” He had seen the man relish the blood so he knew how to convince him. Watching two men fight to the death does yield some benefits! “So, what’s your name? It doesn’t matter if you tell me but it makes my job of finding you so much easier.” Would the man tell him or would he not?

oocWe have about three((unless you know, someone else join)) posts ((you, me, you)) left or one if you leave after this one. Not that I want to end the thread, I LOVE your role-playing, but because a dead body can’t go unnoticed for too long. When we end it, send me a list of the skills you want then I will send you a pm back discussing some stuff.

by **Lyth** on October 3rd, 2011, 1:28 am

Lyth watched with a curious expression as the man stood, taking the two mugs of ale over to the body he had left lying on the ground. While he was intrigued as to why the man dumped the ale over the body, there was still that annoyance that reminded him that he had to pay for those wasted drinks. He made a bridge with his hands, resting his chin there as he watched the man search the body, trying to find something worthwhile to loot, finding a small bag.

It was surprising, to say the least, when the bag was tossed his way, reaching out and catching it in his hand. It felt light, which wasn't surprising, as the man had been doing so badly at his gambling. For the first time that night, Lyth actually listened to what the man had to say, letting a grin pull at the corners of his lips. "Duly noted, I'll have to remember that." He answered, pocketing whatever money was in the pouch.

An amused look crossed Lyth's face; he had earned the right to know his name? Well, at least he had a name to replace the one he had spun for man. Darik~ In some strange way, the name suited him. "So, Darik," Was it strange to enjoy speaking a name? "You caused me to jump head first into a fight, which ended up with me taking an extra life that I'm not going to be paid for, and no that bag is not nearly enough for what I just went through." His voice had an edge to it, though his smile was still friendly. "And now you're telling me it was a test?"

He laughed, quietly. He had to, the situation was just too ridiculous not to. "If I had been anyone else I'd probably hold a grudge over that." He had noticed that Darik had called him 'friend'. It was strange, considering a moment ago he had tried to kill him, even though it failed. Those thought's were quickly pushed away; one mistake, and it wouldn't happen again. Lyth didn't miss twice. Though at the moment, Darik wasn't giving him a reason to try again.

"Well, since you were so kind to give me your name, I suppose it's only fair you know mine." His eyes darted to the other customers of the tavern, seeing if anyone was paying too close attention to them. They weren't from what he could tell. "..My name is Lyth, but you won't be able to find much on that name as I technically don't exist. If you do need to contact me, you'd have an easier time looking for the name Talcum." He wondered what Darik would think when he learned of the man.

OOCAlright, I'll be sure to do that. And thank you for the compliment~ You have no idea how much it means to me to hear people like my writing.

by **Mok** on October 3rd, 2011, 2:12 am

Walking into the familiar tavern, Mok was greeted by the regulars as he took his seat in the corner. Drawing his hood and leaning back into the shadows, he made sure no one would be able to notice him. The myrian scanned the room; nothing particularly interesting was occurring at all tonight. This was exactly the way he wanted though. It would give the myrian a lot of time to think. He had recently gone through a tantalizing ordeal and it was still fresh on his mind. Mok could physically feel pain coursing through his body. Even his heartbeat was slightly off. The myrian had no other choice but to shake it off. He needed to be tough and mean. There was no room for weakness. Never tap out, never give up – no matter what!

Everything was cherry until a fight erupted in the tavern. Mok was half asleep when it broke out, so he only saw the last moment when the white haired man plunged a dagger deep into the man’s chest. The drunk was still alive staring down at the weapon in his chest. Mok knew through experience that he was done for: his lungs had either collapsed or his arteries were cut. Standing up, the warrior slowly edged his way around the bar. The man who had killed the gambler was now talking to some punk ass kid, who just finished pouring good ale all over the man. Getting into hearing range Mok was able to catch both of the men’s names: Darik and Lyth.

Examining both men made Mok sick to the stomach. For some reason the look on their faces seemed twisted and gross. It was something unexplainable, something that just made Mok pissed off. He wasn’t mad at the two men, but just mad in general. Some people just had those looks that rubbed Mok off the wrong way. In a split second Mok decided to take action.

“Oi!” Mok yelled towards the boys, “So you think you can come here and murk one of MY pals and get away with it huh?” The myrian took off his hood to reveal his face. Baring his fangs Mok threw his cloak aside. He was wearing his full brigandine and chainmail. None of the men answered Mok, so he yelled louder, “I think I should take you outside and teach you a lesson -- no reason to further inconvenience Merv. There is already a bloody body on the floor that HE has to clean up... SPEAK UP!

Red = Myrian
Bold = Common

by **Darik** on October 3rd, 2011, 3:20 am

The man’s name was Lyth. Darik had never heard a name like that before. What did it mean? Maybe it meant nothing, a silly name given by two drunk parents. Or it was a gateway into his very being. Which one was it? Darik could find out later, he had more important matters to attend to. Like a very mad drunk.

It was huge, and get this, it had fangs. What had fangs again? Dam, Darik really needed a race book. Whatever the man’s race , it didn’t look friendly.” I think its time that we part ways my friend. I will be seeing you later.” The myrain may have thought it was funny. Because in reality how could a scrawny boy like Darik escape from a giant like him? Like this.

His knuckles became white because they had been gripping the chair so hard. He was apprehensive with his plan, but he knew it would work. He leaned forward and dropped to the ground. Because his hands were gripping the seat it caused the chair to propel in the air. Directly at the myrain. He either caught it, let it hit him, or even deflected it, the reason didn’t matter, he was occupied for at least a second. A second that would allow Darik to escape.

Getting up, Darik kept low, it made him faster and if the myrian tried to grab him it would make the target much smaller. Clearing the myrain Darik realized this was going to be so easy compared to what he had to endure years ago with the bandits. Lost in stupid thought, Darik almost tripped over the dead man’s body. Someone should probably move that out of the way, it could hurt somebody! Still it yielded a reward for Darik, the two empty mugs.

Once he made it to the door he shoved Lyth out of it, the white haired male had been following him the whole time. As Lyth went outside Darik whispered a piece of advice. “Run. Don’t worry about me, this is my expertise.” He then flung both of the glass mugs, causing them to shatter against the counters. Merv who had been mixing some sort of brew in the back came out. ”Don’t you just love fine china?” Merv saw the dead body, broken glass, and a hole in the wall from the knife. Dam, he was pissed. Time to make an exit.

Outside he started to make as much as noise as he could “Wooohhooo ,over here pieces of shyke!” He yelled loud and waved waved his arms; trying to get their attention. He did this till a knife appeared by one of his palms. They were coming fast so Darik took off. He was going to lead them through a figure eight through Sunberth. That’s why he was taking the mob, he doubted the other man could. But then again he might prove himself if any of the people in the bar had remembered the white haired person. But Darik had made the distraction so those numbers would be relatively few.

by **Lyth** on October 3rd, 2011, 5:06 am

Lyth blinked in surprise as a stranger, who had obviously been drinking too much, came up to them, screaming some nonsense about a dead friend. The half blood raised a brow, seemingly unimpressed. Why were people so interested in his actions tonight!? All he did was put a knife into a few people. Things like that happened all the time in Sunberth! The man thought he was scaring people with his fangs; Lyth just smirked. Really, they weren't all that special anymore, what with all the mixing of blood the world was going through.

And while he was sure under normal circumstances he might have been able to talk the man down, he was in no mood. With Darik's chair technique distracting the man, Lyth followed his lead and took off for the door. His body protested the movement, the pain of the battering he had taken earlier setting into a consistent and constrictive ache. But he pushed through, knowing that if he stayed he was going to get hurt worse than anything the former drunk could accomplish.

Lyth lept easily over the dead body, stealing a look behind them to check what all was happening. The action made him nearly run into Darik as he stopped in the doorway, throwing their glass mugs at the counter, causing them to shatter. Lyth raised a brow, looking back to Darik with a questioning look. All he got in reply was the command to not worry and run. He smirked. "Don't get caught." And he turned away from his 'friend', slipping off down the opposite road.

OOCSorry for the short post

by **Archelon** on October 10th, 2011, 6:52 am

Thread Award

"Omnomnomnom... this is good watermelon. Oh... what's that over there ?"

And the Results!!!!:

Lyth :

Darik :

Mok :

Would you like some extra turtle sauce ? :