Let me toy with you

[Cassandra Coven]

Cassandra lay groaning on the floor, the long nails of her fingers digging at the wooden boards looking for something solid to grasp, as if doing so would stop the dizzying spin of her vision. A great weight slammed down upon her midsection, eliciting a choked "Oof!" from her lips, one that quickly changed to hacking and coughing sounds as the Zith's taloned digits circled around her delicate neck. The thing was trying to choke her! Weakly, Cassandra hammered her fists against her attacker's wrists, trying desperately to dislodge the pressure off from her windpipe. But the Zith was unbelievably strong, and all she accomplished was get her neck scratched by the other woman's poison-tipped claws. "Get off!" she screamed, or tried to. All that escaped from her was an unintelligible gasp. Through her clouded senses, the dark-haired woman heard the seemingly distant sound of her door slamming open and a large figure of a man entered her room. His slurred speech came garbled into her ears, an effect of the mild poison coursing through her veins perhaps. Was he an accomplice of the Zith? She could not make out the new arrival's identity, not with the torchlit hallway leaving him as just a dark silhouette against the lighted backdrop, obscuring his features. Still, his entrance caused just enough of a distraction that Cassandra was able to grope about for a weapon. Her fingers closed around something flat and circular: a plate! She could still feel the remnants of that day's breakfast on it. In the part of her mind that was detached from all that was happening, a voice told her that she really should wash up her dishes before leaving off for work in the mornings. It sounded strangely like her mother's. With the last of her strength, Cassandra brought the ceramic piece up and slammed it on the side of the Zith's head before collapsing back on the ground, barely conscious of her surroundings.

[Irriari]

As her hands continued to grip the womans neck, Irriari smiled. It was a detached smile, as she examined the reactions of her prey. A unintelligible gurgle came out of the barmaid's mouth and Irriari tilted her head to the side, confused, before speaking.

“What was that? I would imagine your patrons would at least want you have the ability to speak properly. Silly humans. Can't you fight through the pain?”

Irriari enjoyed taunting the barmaid, but loosened her grip before she knocked the woman out. It wouldn't be sporting of her to ruin her own fun so quickly. Besides, she was sure that when the woman gasped for air, it would be beautiful. Suddenly, the door that she hadn't bothered to lock was thrown open and the booming voice of a man announced his presence, as well as his aching need for something the barmaid, Cassandra, could provide him. Irriari quickly looked down at the barely conscious body underneath of her and she guessed that Cassandra wouldn't be going anywhere soon or pleasing anyone in the standard sense. Irriari didn't know if her current condition would be suitable. Some humans had odd tastes.

As Irriari released her grip on Cassandra's neck, intent on subduing the stranger at the door something crashed against the side of her head loudly. A loud screeching noise was ringing in both ears as the zith collapsed onto the floor, cradling the side of her head that was oozing blood. Shards of a plate came into view once her eyesight stopped spinning uncontrollably. Faint spots of crimson covered a portion of the ceramic and Irriari wanted nothing more than the grab a shard and drive it into the barmaids ivory leg. That petching bitch. She would pay for that. But for now, Irriari's concern was with the man who had entered the room. He seemed to know the barmaid, which hardly helped her at all. Irriari tried moving to her feet, but as she pushed herself up, pain lanced through the side of her and continued wrecking havoc until it reached her other ear. She fell back onto the ground and snarled loudly, hoping to drive the man away.

[Keating Ash]

Breaking up fights was nothing new to Keating, especially after his stints working as a tavern bouncer. But the most dangerous of any fights were always the brawls between two women. Women were unpredictable; angry ones even more so. It was impossible to know what they would do next. Innocent bystanders often got hurt, or scratched, or hit by flying objects. Women… they went berserk, they had no control… it caused all sorts of problems for men. Folks got into fights all the time. And Keating never cared what the reasons were, even now it didn’t matter what had set the two women against each other. Keating just wanted it to stop. The man looked at the two warily, with a watchful and wobbly gaze… Cassandra didn’t look like she’d be much trouble. Was she high again? Or were they just drunk? Or was this a drug deal gone bad? He dismissed it all, it was too hard to concentrate with his sluggish mind. But… the other woman worried him. She looked like she still had too much fight left in her. His muscles tensed, as much as they could in their inebriated state. “Women!” he mumbled as his fist tightened into a hard clinched ball. The night activities were ruined, and Keating was pissed at the lost opportunity. Breaking up a fight was not how he wanted to spend what little time was left of the night. Angered into action, Keating lurched suddenly to bring his large body behind the stunned woman. He didn’t trust her, she had… wings? That was odd, he thought drunkenly, as his large fingers closed around the Zith’s neck. None to gently, Keating lifted her roughly to her feet. She was so much smaller than him. But her wings were tricky and he tried to press his torso and hips against them, to subdue the strange appendages. With his other hand, Keating held one of her forearms mercilessly out away from her body to subdue her further. A strong, alcoholic fragrance s surrounded him, mingled with his sweat. It was a primal smell, from a primal man unwilling to appear weak. The words that came were short, and to the point. His patience, if he’d ever had any was at an end. “Don’t even move,” the dark man said evenly, his hand tightening upon her airway. “There’ll be consequences…” Keating’s grip tightened and lifted her chin higher. “Don’t fool yourself, I ain’t above hittin’ a woman, or snappin’ a neck.” His breath was heavy, intoxicated and the words held a slowness that they did not normally have. “Don’t test me, honey.” Threat was evident in his stance, and tone, as Keating barked, “Best do as I say, and start explain’… right soon. She can’t…,” his unfocused gaze looked to pretty Cassandra on the floor. Damn night, ruined! She was so pretty too… the man’s mind threatened to wander. His body swayed lightly, unable to hold the still position for long, though he refused to let go of his hold upon the winged female.

[Cassandra Coven]

Cassandra coughed and gasped as she tried to recover from having the Zith wringing her neck with its filthy clawed hands. On top of the the tunnel vision that ordeal left her, the world continued to spin as poison coursed through her veins, making her feel nauseous and completely messing around with her senses. At first she knew she was on the floor - she had to be since she was on her back. But then the world spun and it seemed to her as if her back was stuck to the wall. It spun once more, giving her the sensation that she was now flat against the ceiling. Down was now up, and up was now down. She could actually see herself looking down at the large imposing figure and the Zith. It was very disconcerting. The two seemed to be conferring with each other. Probably even plotting her death that very moment! How to kill her, how to dispose of the body...yes, that could be the only reason why this thuggish brute was here. As muscle! The Zith was too small to haul her around so she had an accomplice. Well, they had a thing or two coming. She may be down but she was certainly not out! Fighting through her addled perception, Cassandra pushed her elbows back against the ceiling...or was it the floor?... and crawled towards the pair, feet leading. They seemed hardly aware of her coming, a perfect chance! Rearing back her right leg, its knee moving close to her chest, Cassandra unleashed two vicious kicks, or at least she thought they were vicious. They were probably more like love taps in her weakness and disorientation. But connect they did, the first one she thought had hit the Zith somewhere soft and round - her buttocks, from the feel of it. Maybe. The second one, Cassandra threw a bit lower (she was afraid she might fall down to the ceiling if most of her body left contact with the floor), her feet smashing against something that had a lot of give. She did not know where exactly but she knew her leg went under between the Zith's legs, probably connecting against the thug's scabbard or something. What poor aim, Cassandra thought in defeat as she sagged back up to the floor. In truth, she would never know it, but her kick connected against Keating's crotch. OOCI hope you guys don't mind I took some liberties in Cassandra's attack. The first kick I left kind of vague, but the second one I connected against Keating. They're not that hard considering Cassandra's condition. Please tell me if you guys want me to change it!

[Verilian]

Irriari +1 Stealth +1 Tracking +1 Unarmed Combat +1 Intimidation Lores: Plotting Revenge, Illiciting Fear Cassandra Coven +1 Dagger +2 Brawling Lores: Using Vexation in Combat, Vexation is a Gift, Kicking where it Hurts and not Even Knowing It Keating Ash +1 Brawling +1 Intimidation Lores: Attempting to Decipher the Drunken Haze, Being Kicked where it Hurts You Question My Logic? : I think it's all pretty self explanatory, but if you have any questions on the award given, feel free to PM me. Notes: I was actually stalking this thread the entire time it was active. It saddened me greatly that Irriari left, she was such a cool PC. Oh well, you guys did great with what was written, and I really enjoyed it. As always, keep up the good work!