Closed That Bloody Boy... (Matthew)

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A lawless town of anarchists, built on the ruins of an ancient mining city. [Lore]

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That Bloody Boy... (Matthew)

Postby Razkar on January 29th, 2014, 4:11 am

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He paced and paced and tried not to listen to those anguished screams, but every time Matthew drew yet another one from the boy's lips, Razkar had to resist the urge to open his throat. Hypnotism. Mind manipulations. Stealing a man's will and toying with it. Nothing made his hackles rise and tremble so blatantly.

You couldn't have got this far without him; not without a heap of dead bodies that would have come back to haunt you. You agreed to do things his way, so here you are. Just endure it for a little-

A familiar slapping sound ripped through the dank air and Razkar's head snapped to it. His eyes widened as he saw Marius' bleeding lip, Matthew spreading the blood on his face, his neck, his legs...

"Not going to be enough."

He muttered the words to himself and they echoed through his mind even as Matthew outlined the rest of their plan... and it was, admittedly, a good one. Everything he'd seen about the male so far seemed to speak of intelligence and, well... Edreina's special breed of cunning. Razkar had wit in the moment, perhaps, but not in the long-term. The human and the Svefra, though... they could attack a problem from five different directions. Razkar would just charge it and hang the consequence.

Exactly why you needed him tonight.

"Good..." He said as he stepped over to the harlot, peering at him in an odd manner and finally coming to a decision. "... but we will need to really convince that brute on the door. So, I'm sorry for this-"

Matthew had just got his mouth open to ask what he meant, then Razkar's fist came up and out in a tanned blur.

++++++++++


"What petching shyke thing is this?!"

Kostaja and half the damn street all jerked around to attention when that enraged boom sounded out around and then into them. The middleman's muscle's hand slipped automatically to the knives at his waist, and he glared into the house, seeing the pair of lurching figures heading his way.

One snarling, irritable in the same way a rouse wasp nest was "a little upset", limp hunk of formerly-living slave over one shoulder.

And the other holding a jaw that seemed bigger than usual, not to mention a different color.

"Fuck happened in-"

"This piece of shit-"

Razkar smacked the boy on the rump, the resounding thwack! covering the sound of Matthew's own smaller slap to Marius' head. At once the Myrian felt the boy go utterly limp, the shuddering heave of his chest topping, too.

"-fucking happen! See man?! See slave did to man!"

"Friend, if he fought back, then-"

"This how you treat custom?!" Razkar stopped before the marked and goateed enforcer, scowling ferociously. "Little rat hit man! Hit my friend! Nearly break jaw, so he had to breaking fucking neck-!"

He shook his shoulder and Marius obligingly flopped around like a boned fish... but Razkar had already started counting. Nearly half a chime since Matthew's slap. They didn't have long.

"You sure he's dead?"

Razkar was far from an accomplished actor, but he had only to tap into his memories of childhood to do affronted indignity very well. His eyes grew even wider and his facial piercings seemed to quiver with effrontery.

"I look like man who not know difference?!"

Goddess, you best make this good.

In one quick gesture he withdrew his kukri and jabbed the end of of it in Mariaus' bicep. Not a twitch... and if there was, Razkar wiggling him around might have covered it... but never did his black eyes remove themselves from
Kostaja's unblinking stare.

"Not move. Is dead. Broke petching neck, that mean dead! Now we go to doctor and you get gold. How much for petching boy?"

Kostaja's grimace was starting to... no, soften was not a word you could ever use with that face. The wolfish aggression of it lessened, though. Suspicion was overridden by the sheer absurdity of the situation: the shouting savage, the swinging boy, the sulking swell behind them. Other customers and the usual Sunberth street carnival were gathering around now, or watching from a distance (probably safer). More importantly, they were customers, and they were being held up.

A chime. C'mon, c'mon...!

"One hundred and fifty." His lips quirked quickly, almost too fast to be seen. They should, Razkar thought with disgust, you made fifty gold coins back on what you paid in a couple of days. "That's the usual. But to kill boy, too... three hundred."

"Three hundred?! You run mad?!"

"Hey, you're taking him, too-"

"You think fun stop in there?!" Razkar's face split into a leer like an Akila Hound, full of drool and too-sharp teeth. "Get to doctor, open him up... fuck warm things. Fuck inside-"

Kostaja threw up his hands, face contorted in disgust. "Gods, shut the petch up, I get the... look, three hundred, for the... fun." He crossed his arms and that seemed to be the sign for a handful of other "customers" to suddenly detach themselves from the wall and flank him. "And that's non-negotiable. Know that word, savage?"

Razkar had calculated the odds by the time the human had spoken the last word. Matthew may have the strategist, but when it came to the tactics of the bloody moment, the Myrian knew he had the edge.

Five men. All armed. One shoulder occupied... for now. Half a tick to drop him, another half to draw, kill the leader first, use his corpse as a shield, swing to the left, block from the right-

He blinked. Not the time. Not tonight.

"... fine!" He dug around and poured a glittering gold waterfall into Kostaja's waiting hands, shaking his head in disgust. "You have luck if we come back! Other place to go!"

"Hey, my friend, you were in there an hour," Kostaja's said with a triumphant grin, "That don't speak to me of you bein' unsatisfied."

Razkar let him have the last word, answering with only a snarl and a quick march away from that damned and dirty place. He lowered his head, pulled up his cloak... so the look of sudden panic overtake his face like a tidal wave. He had to hold himself back from sprinting to the nearest dark alley-

"Now! Myri's Blood, man, now!"

-and waited for Matthew to slap the boy back to consciousness (not to mention breath).

Receipt:-300gm
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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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That Bloody Boy... (Matthew)

Postby Matthew on January 30th, 2014, 10:41 pm



It was a stark difference in strength. Perhaps one of the reasons how Razkar and Matthew managed to work so well together was how completely and utterly un-alike they were. One was pampered and groomed, one was not. One was a physical force, one was a mental force. The difference in their physical abilities would be made plain in mere moments. While Matthew had swung hard, he had only managed to bloody the lip of the boy. He hadn't knocked him aside or knocked him out, only confused him and made his jaw hurt. However, when Razkar swung, he didn't even see it coming before darkness consumed him.

~~~


He didn't recall much else after that. Apparently he hadn't been totally knocked out, he was just almost knocked out. He was walking, he was slapping the back of the boy's head, he was going along with the plan... but his eyes were glazed and his mind was empty. There was a sharp pain in his jaw, but even it felt very distant. Slowly but surely his mind began to come back to him, picking up little details from the surroundings and analyzing them in random order. There watching eyes, there were amused eyes, annoyed eyes. Razkar's voice sounded a bit worried, why did it sound worried? The boy, the boy wasn't breathing. His arms were still tied too, though the ties were hidden by his raggedy sleeves.

Then they were in an alleyway, and he had smacked the back of the boy's head. The boy awoke with a sharp gasp, struggling for air, eyes darting about wildly as his tongue worked in the air. It was no doubt a shocking experience, coming out of a trance like that. The boy's eyes flickered between horror and pain as he remembered what he had been subjected to, and then quickly turned blank as he processed that he was back in the open air and with Razkar. He gave Matthew an odd look at the harlot sluggishly untied his arms, mumbling something about the boy regaining feeling in them soon. It all came crashing down, and he couldn't help the sobs that started to shake his body. He had a mind to keep them quiet, though. He also had the pride to hide his face.

Matthew rubbed his jaw, blinking a few times as the last spots of darkness vanished from his vision. He winced a bit as his fingers brushed over the swollen skin, feeling the jolt of pain in that entire side of his face, a small bolt of it running down the side of his neck. Medical training instinctively kicked in and the harlot knelt down to pack a makeshift snowball, holding it to the heated lump as he surveyed both Razkar and the boy. So Razkar had hit him? He'd have to learn how to deal with blows like that at some point in the future. He wasn't so sure if he could survive on social prowess and mental strength alone. He understood why he had been hit though, he had heard bits and pieces of the conversation. "If you want to get your mizas back, we can work that out. I'll take what practice I can get when it comes to swimming in this city."

Melted snow dripped down his jaw, causing a shiver of cold to jolt him suddenly. He hoped he could get the swelling down before he had to work again. If not, perhaps he could play it off as an injury gained during a particularly rough work session. He stared at the boy a few moments longer, then slowly glanced up to Razkar's black eyes. "Did you really come to Sunberth just for the boy? That seems rather... valiant of you." He didn't mean it in a mocking way. There was just a level of risk and effort to be weighed against the reward, and just rescuing a boy didn't seem to be a logical reason for all of this. Perhaps Razkar was the valiant type though, in his own special way.

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That Bloody Boy... (Matthew)

Postby Razkar on February 1st, 2014, 3:01 am

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"If you want to get your mizas back, we can work that out. I'll take what practice I can get when it comes to swimming in this city."

Razkar managed a laugh, or something similar to it, partially hidden in the shadows of the alley. Marius was gasping and shuddering and shaking and... Goddess, was he doing the same? All that adrenaline and anger and disgust, held inside like bubbles in a bottle, now it was all shaking out of him as his limbs collapsed while still attached to his body. He braced himself against a wall and let his head fall back, hair freezing against the wet brick.

"Goddess..." He whispered as if he'd just ran for leagues. "... my thanks for Your Wisdom this eve. Truly You have shown a warrior must have cunning and patience, as well as aptitude with a blade..."

"Don't worry about it." He finally managed to say, voice more of a sigh than anything else. The Myrian walked over to Marius and frowned at the wound he'd caused, rifling around in his rucksack for his healer's kit. "But you, boy, owe me."

"Y-You stabbed me!" Marius rasped, outraged and still sheathed in sweat, eyes shining. "L-Look what youARGH-!"

With a roll of his eyes the Myrian slapped a palmful of wet salt into the nick made by the kukri. Naturally the boy squirmed and whimpered and Razkar cuffed him lightly around the ear without looking up from his work.

"Oh, shut up, boy." He growled, biting off a length of bandage and winding it around the shoulder. "Your mother's been scared out of her wits for days and without us your arse would be a playground for every degenerate with the mizas in this city. Now shut up and keep pressure on this-"

"Ow!"

"Shut up."

"Did you really come to Sunberth just for the boy? That seems rather... valiant of you."

Human and Myrian both jerked around at the harlot's honest question, but before Marius' face could twist into a sardonic grin, Razkar's ebony glare had him bowing his head. The Myrian sighed and shook his head, like his parents had done before, like he'd seen uncles and cousins and friends do...

Disappointed. Frustrated. But still, despite the odds and all rational sense, there.

"No." He said in tones that dripped cynical resignation, and then whipped off his cloak in one easy movement... before pressing it around the shivering boy's shoulders. "This was... what you might call 'follow-up work'."

"What he means to say is heOW! Stop that!"

"Then stop talking!" The Myrian shoved the boy forward, pointed roughly back towards the Sunset Quarter. "Ruros' balls', boy, when will you learn to shut up and leave well enough alone? Now, we are going back to the Quarter-"

Shove

"-you are apologizing to your Honored Mother-"

Shove!

"-and you are going to start thinking with the big head instead of that thing between you legs-"

SHOVE!

"-or by Cheva's Blessed Cunt I will drag you back here myself!"

Youthful defiance warred with eternal self-preservation across Marius' face. He looked at Matthew for support... yeah, good luck there. Finally he managed a sigh and a barely-petulant pout, followed by a grudging: "Yes, sir."

"Start moving." A few steps later and the Myrian tossed a look over his shoulder, taking in the harlot suddenly without purpose and on the wrong side of town. "Well, you coming or not? I'm sure Margartea would love to thank you..."
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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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That Bloody Boy... (Matthew)

Postby Matthew on February 4th, 2014, 4:21 pm



The interaction between the boy and the savage was odd, to say the least. If Matthew didn't know better, he would have assumed that Edreina and Razkar had somehow given birth to a boy that had aged quite quickly. That was absolutely absurd, though. Then again, Tanroa had been absolutely absurd.

He watched the two as Razkar tried to explain, answering with something that really wasn't an answer. There was more of the odd social interaction between the boy and the man, something that was halfway between family and close friends. It would make more sense to assume that the boy had spent some amount of time with Razkar and Edriena, which would in turn allow certain motherly and fatherly feelings to develop. It was only the natural next step after reaching a certain level of intimacy. Crossing his arms, he just waited for the two of them to finish, blue eyes glancing back and forth between them as they bickered a bit. A flaring ache in his jaw reminded him that he had taken a hard hit to the head, a soft wince rippling his body as the pain blossomed again and again. It was like another heartbeat, but in his jaw.

The harlot stood there, slightly sore and in bloodied clothes. At Razkar's offer, he shook his head no, turning slightly to point himself in the direction that he was planning on heading. "No thank you. I don't enjoy that sort of interaction. It would serve me no purpose, and I have work to do. I appreciate you allowing me to tag along." A short bow of his head was given in thanks, and then blue eyes dipped toward the boy. "If the young man wishes to pay for a prostitute, it would be best if he went to an established place of business. Ruby's Sanctum here in Sunberth, for example. There is less chance of disease and scams such as this one." He had whored himself on the street before. It was a dangerous game to play. He didn't like thinking about it. Giving the boy one last analyzing look, he slowly turned fully and started to head down the street.

"Let me know if you or Edreina need anything else. I plan on being in Sunberth through the Spring, at least." A hand was raised in a wave, and then he was off. Razkar might notice he had headed back in the direction of the Doctor's clinic. Unlike the Myrian, Matthew stomach didn't turn while he was there. He had to clean off the corpse they had left, or the Doctor wouldn't be at all happy to see him next time he came to volunteer. A corpse still had plenty of uses, after all.

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That Bloody Boy... (Matthew)

Postby Vanari on March 11th, 2014, 11:11 pm

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Raz
Interrogation +3 XP
Intimidation +3 XP
Intelligence +4 XP
Acting +3 XP
Leadership +1 XP
Tactics +1 XP
Negotiation +1 XP

Lores :
  • Necessity of Getting a Lead's Name
  • Dispensing Justice and Helping the Needy
  • Matthew: Questionable Innocence
  • Difference Between Good and Nice
  • Pain in the Name of Natural Science
  • Stooping to a New Low
  • Dora: No Shame in Selling a Boy
  • Malum: Slave Buyer at Slaver's Row
  • A Merciful End for Dora
  • Cautious Forethought: Thank God for the Harlot
  • Malum's Hovel: Inciting Yahal's Curse
  • Matthew: Welcome Wisdom
  • A Slap to Help Marius Play Dead
  • Schooling a Young Hot Head


Matthew
Interrogation +2 XP
Subterfuge +2 XP
Intelligence +5 XP
Planning +2 XP
Leadership +3 XP
Tactics +2 XP
Hypnotism +3 XP
Persuasion +1 XP

Lores :
  • Lady Man: New Nickname
  • Perks of a Myrian's Company
  • Showing Raz the Clinic
  • A Special Whore to be Questioned
  • Raz: Distaste for the Clinic
  • Why Did Raz Kill the Whore?
  • Plans to Infiltrate Slaver's Row
  • Wariness with Hypnotism
  • Kostaja: A Customer of the Doctor
  • Slavery is Wrong
  • Raz: Different Definition of Morality
  • Rescuing Marius via Unconventional Means
  • Opposites Make Good Teams
  • Curious Interaction Between Marius and Razkar


Notes :
How horrifically delightful :D

Please don't hesitate to PM me with questions, comments, or concerns! Also, remember to edit your grade request as "graded."

Cheers!
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A lonely heart is better than a bored one.

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