Flashback With feeling.

[Razkar]

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Taloba, home to the Myrians, is the thriving core of Falyndar. Inhabited by a fierce and savage tribe where blood sacrifices are normal and a way of life, they are untamed and proud of it. Warlike, and with their numbers growing, the Myrians are set on reclaiming what is rightfully theirs. [Lore]

With feeling.

Postby Alva on April 5th, 2013, 4:37 am

oocIt might be bad of me, but I was amused too much with your last post.

Back on dirt, head throbbing painfully, Alva found it hard to look at him straight. Dazed and a bit dizzy, the anger she felt building in her chest throbbed with her forehead. She might have laughed at being laid out on the ground for the second time that day, done in by two unexpected moves, but she hurt too much to do anything more than snarl at her defenselessness, even though that made her ache further.

He lectured her still while pinning her with his foot, she caught up with his words at a faster rate now that she was regaining her precious composure. Another bruise, this would be. She would have to wear this one with pride for a long while, yet the pride she had already found itself wounded by being knocked down by a man again.

He let her up after his hardly kind words and she got up, snapping her jaws at him when his back was turned and, after a split second of thought, she acted on her overflowing anger and stepped forward after him to swing with her unarmed hand at the back of his head, nearly ready to shift her form and take him on that way. Still, sore and battered as she was, she knew doing anything of the sort without some form of energy intake would not benefit her. She would not gain anything from challenging him like that. She would take her punishment for this small show of insolence, and then later come back and find him for some more opportunity to beat him up.

"What is cruel is if I play with my prey before I kill it," she snapped at him, flying high on her one little show of disobedience that would, admittedly, lead her to being punished heavily for her daring. "You are only fun on the other hand, worth the chew but not the kill." She spoke with difficulty, obvious in her strange use of comparisons that she did relate most things to things she would experience as a tiger. She knew her own weakness with words and tried to make up for them with venom. Not a threat, merely a response to him. She was childish, needing the last word, and obviously lacked discipline, but rarely was it she got to talk back to the Myrians that enjoyed themselves in looking down at her that she could only take advantage of a soldier's turned back when she reached the breaking point.

Then, only after she had her say, she returned to her Fang and their stares, dragging her hook sword behind her. The punishment was coming, she would take it with the pride the tiger she tried to hide would want her to.
Alva
Harsher of the mellow.
 
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Location: Updating my facebook status in Taloba.
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With feeling.

Postby Razkar on April 5th, 2013, 5:11 am

Image
Razkar's world exploded like his head was a drum that had just been pounded, and he staggered on his feet. He heard her words with a bleary dullness, that right hook certainly having some force behind it. But as he turned and saw her walking away... it was laughter that followed her tread.

"You are never too old to learn, recruits." He said with a smile, even as fresh waves of shock washed over them. An instructor assaulting a recruit?! It was... almost blasphemy. "Never turn you back on an enemy!"

His smile grew a touch wider. "And always know where you enemy is."

Erama hit Alva like a raging Tskanna, and the tattooed female warrior made her blows count. The first was a rabbit punch to the back of Alva's head, stunning her, disorienting-

-the second, her left fist, was a blow to her wounded kidney that prompted another howl of agony, making her wobble-

-Erama finished her work by dropping like a stone, spinning as she went, one leg jerked out-

-taking Alva's legs from under her and putting her on her back once again. This time, though, there was no threat of force or pain: it was right there on top of her.

Erama's lips were sneered upwards like she'd trod in dog shit, one knee across Alva's throat, barely allowing her breath. Her other knee pinned Alva's arm, while Erama's other arm grabbed was gripped with Erama's right around the wrist-

-and her left was raised, clear for all to see, a cocked and tight fist, wavering not an inch...

"You know what the punishment is for assaulting an instructor?" She hissed, low and venomous as an enraged Dhani, face taut and whitened with anger, making the masses of intricate inkwork on her face all the more stark. "Fucking shitstain, we should break you on the rack and cut your-"

"Erama? Let her up."


The female's head did not jerk up; she did not want to take eyes off this devious little barbarian. Her eyes narrowed even further and her words did not lessen in intensity, even for her comrade.

"Raz, you know-"

"I know she must be punished."
Calm and pedantic as ever, but... was there something else behind it? "And she will be. By me. Let her up."

Erama did, stepping away quickly in case Alva was entertaining any ideas for further retaliation. When the Kelvic was up, she found Razkar facing her, his face set as granite. Her fang shuffled and whispered among themselves; some worried for her, most looking forward to the coming bloodshed, some-

"Silence, fools!" Erama hissed, gripping her blades with a glare cast over the lot of them. They did as they were told.

Razkar unfolded his arms... and shook his head with a sigh. She showed great promise, the Kelvic. She was strong and fast and learned, but she could not keep her composure. He knew what she was, and what she could become if she wished, but that changed nothing. An army was no place for loose cannons or renegades. If such things were allowed, the order and unity they prized would fall apart and there would be naught but chaos.

Now Alva recognized what she had seen in his yes, fleeting but definitely there.

Regret. Regret for what he had to do.

"We will resolve this without a mark on your record," he said simply, striding forwards, gathering speed, "For I see potential in you, and do not wish you to be dogged by a bad reputation. But disobedience will not be tolerated."

He unsheathed his practice weapon, and his every move was deadly serious now. Contained and controlled as it would be on a battlefield, already seeing gaps in her composure, her stance, her weakened form. He would not enjoy this. But the mistake was hers.

"Assaulting an instructor is punishable by mutilation." He said to her popping eyes as he raised his ax. "A finger or ear, usually. But in this case... we shall settle with a sound beating-"

He raised the ax in his right hand over his head with a flourish-

-and his left fist slammed towards her jaw without even a drop of restraint.
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My Words | Your Words | Myrian | Fratavan | My Thoughts
Razkar has been cursed by Yahal, and as such finds little acceptance from others; they will instinctively view him as being deceptive and traitorous. However, when close to one blessed by Yahal, the effect is negated. The curse is etched onto his left pectoral, and viewing the mark causes others to feel dirty and unclean.
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Razkar
War Is The Answer
 
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With feeling.

Postby Alva on April 5th, 2013, 6:20 am

Adrenaline flared one last time at the first blow, singing in her veins even as she slumped forward, sharp teeth showing in a feral grin that was half a ferocious, gleeful smile, and half caused by excrutiating pain that rippled out through her and fused with her bones. Her hair fell over, covering her face, and soon she was recieving the brutal punishment she deserved, although not from the superior who deserved to give it. She rather appreciated it more that it was Erama who was beating her, despite the pain. Again, she could barely see the woman from the blow to her head, eyes wavering at some point just over the Myrian's shoulder. She did not let herself smile, not now, knowing it wouldn't help her. She couldn't see nor hear her Fangmates, having lost them when she was dropped.

The Kelvic could hardly breath, hardly focus, but what she was intently aware of was the presence of the woman pinning her down, nearly ready to rip out her throat, and Alva wanted to rise to the threat and not go down without a fight, but she bit her tongue, hard enough to draw blood, and kept herself as restrained as she could, trembling with the effort to not do something. It was almost painful on it's own, trying to hold back what she wanted to do and let herself receive the punishment she had brought upon herself.

Relief came when Razkar spoke, the male's words bringing Erama off of the prone Kelvic. Nobody offered her assistance to rise, she did so herself, despite the increasing pain. Blood from her tongue washed down her throat, inciting her adrenaline rush further, and she faced Razkar with what pride she could muster, gold-green eyes flaring with her pride, her resentment, and her regret that she had hit him so hard. The cuff was meant to be as hard as a tigress would give a disobedient cub, but she underestimated the force behind the blow. She resented the regret she saw in him, her eyes recognising the emotion. She regretted little but for the few things she had already done and wished she could change. He had to punish her, she understood. She had pushed their boundaries knowing the punishment. The curl of her lip spoke this, but she didn't raise a hand as he approached her.

The prospect of mutilation did not appeal to her, but she held still even as he raised his axe, eyes narrowed in focus. She didn't expect the fist to her face and that showed as she staggered back with a howl, giving him more opportunity to beat her as she fell back, before she shook back her hair and straightened as best as she could, clinging to the pride that had been wounded so easily. She would not let herself fall, even though every moment her body sagged further, exhaustion, her past beatings, and her injuries taking their toll on her. She found it hard not to show defiance in her face, found it hard not to smile with anticipation at the beating, but some small part that bolstered her resistance to her instincts reasoned that this was as much an educational experience as it was a punishment. Even as he knocked her down with blows she might have been able to weather under normal conditions, she continued to rise to her feet, but not in defiance. The sound of her pained grunts resounded in the silent yard. It was not the best day for her pride.
Alva
Harsher of the mellow.
 
Posts: 48
Words: 25224
Joined roleplay: January 20th, 2013, 3:49 am
Location: Updating my facebook status in Taloba.
Race: Kelvic
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With feeling.

Postby Razkar on April 5th, 2013, 6:43 am

Image
She did not fight back. She did not look away. Even when she saw, in that last broken moment, his fist coming for her face, she just curled up her lips slightly and took it.

That made it harder for Razkar. But it still unfolded as it had to.

Her Fangmates flinched and one or two looked away as the wet, sickening sound of flesh and wood smacking into flesh ripped around the Training Yard. Erama was not so squeamish, looking on with a grim satisfaction.

The blow to her jaw knocked Alva back, but despite her thin, lanky frame, she didn't go down. Blow after blow hammered into her chest, her stomach, but only that first punch marked her face. Razkar was holding back now, not wanting to permanently damage such an asset.

But it had to end sometime. Thankfully.

Another chop to her gut doubled her over and his foot lashed out at her bruised kneecap. Finally, she went down to her knees... and to his silent astonishment... with blood and sweat dribbling down her chin... she began to rise again...

"One day," he said softly, so only she would hear his words, "You will make a fine warrior, recruit."

His last blow ended it. Short, sharp, smacking into her forehead with just enough force. In tiger form, even, it would have knocked her down. In this form, even with her prideful defiance, it knocked her out.

Silence. Broken only by Razkar's steady but ragged breathing. Then steps, slow footfalls from sandaled feet on the sand. He circled her prone form and lowered his bloodied ax.

"You two!" He barked, making the recruits jump as he jerked his finger towards the ones closest. "Take her to the infirmary. No delays."

They nodded sharply and between the two of them they carried the unconscious Kelvic away from the sand. Razkar watched them go, until the three figures vanished into the shadows under the arch... and then were gone.

"Prideful." He muttered. "Uncontrolled." His voice grew louder. "Stubborn." Finally his black gaze swept back to the recruits and he tossed his ax down. Erama blinked. She could have sworn there was a note of disgust in the gesture. "And through all that... I see in that barbarian the of our people. Of Myri's own children."

A steady finger moved along them all.

"Mark her well. Erama? Pick one. We begin again..."
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My Words | Your Words | Myrian | Fratavan | My Thoughts
Razkar has been cursed by Yahal, and as such finds little acceptance from others; they will instinctively view him as being deceptive and traitorous. However, when close to one blessed by Yahal, the effect is negated. The curse is etched onto his left pectoral, and viewing the mark causes others to feel dirty and unclean.
User avatar
Razkar
War Is The Answer
 
Posts: 1795
Words: 2242619
Joined roleplay: October 8th, 2012, 12:04 am
Location: Sunberth
Race: Myrian
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Journal
Plotnotes
Medals: 9
Featured Character (1) Featured Thread (2)
Trailblazer (1) Overlored (1)
Donor (1) One Thousand Posts! (1)
One Million Words! (1) 2013 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)

With feeling.

Postby Logos on April 6th, 2013, 4:28 pm

Skill and Lore Rewards


Razkar

Skills Lores
Rhetoric - 3 An Instructor's Pride
Teaching - 4 Abuse: It Has It's Purposes
Handaxe - 3
Brawling - 3
Acrobatics - 2
Intimidation - 2




Alva

Skills Lores
Brawling - 3 The Price Of Insubordination
Observation - 4 Kelvic Vs Tiger: Restrain The Beast Within
Tiger-Hook Sword - 4
Acrobatics - 2
Intimidation - 1


Additional Notes :
Nice little thread, I look forwards to more :) Alva, you have not deducted your Seasonal Expenses from your Character Sheet. Once to do so you may add this grade to your CS


Any questions or queries, please PM me.
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