Closed New Year, Same Old Sunberth

[Caela Dorin]

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1st Spring 516AV

Sunberth enjoyed any excuse for a party. Sex, drugs, drink, music, a relatively normal Sunberthian day except for the fact that spirits were higher and the gangs seemed slightly less inclined to slit one another's throats. Of course, life was rough in the Syliran city so parties could only spring in to being on certain celebratory occasions, unless someone else was willing to pay for it! Caela remembered such a party that had taken place the winter before last down at the quay, but it was far more organised than the more traditional Sunberthian shindig. The Watchtowers had heralded a change to Spring and the beginning of a new year and the citizens had jumped on it. Booze seemed to flow out the doors of the various drinking establishments, coins switching hands on the street as tankards of cheap ale and beer were passed around. The piss poor alcohol was more watered down than normal but with something cheap and secret added to it to give it some kick that meant that the patrons didn't complain. The beautiful ladies of Ruby's and Brega's walked the streets in groups dressed in all their finery, treating the occasion as a gay day out although they were still at work, their safety ensured by the burly bashers that followed them conspicuously at a respectable distance. Certain men hovered in the shadows of buildings, ready to provide delights of the mind for the right price. All in all it was barely organised chaos with the streets flooded with drunken and otherwise intoxicated revellers.

Caela picked her way through the streets, glad for an unofficial day off as there wasn't room in the Pig's Foot Tavern for her to ply her trade. Instead she had an opportunity to enjoy some of the revelry herself although she had to be careful. Her thick blonde hair was pulled back severely from her face, the hair tied tightly around itself to form a bun at the base of her neck. She was plainly dressed for her, with the hood of her cloak hanging over her head to hide her features in its shadowy depths as an extra precaution. On a day when whores were wandering on the streets openly selling their ways, the dancer didn't want to be mistaken for one. The young woman knew there was no such thing as too much caution and so walked hunched over, her back bent and one foot dragging and turned slightly to one side. The blonde hoped that she'd be taken for an older woman, too decrepit to be of much interest to the lecherous men of the city. She had no idea of she was a good enough actress to pull it off, but if someone was to speak with her, she knew there was no way for her to disguise her voice and thus the jig would be up despite her efforts. It only had to work while she was wandering around the streets. Once she could mix within a crowd and get some drink, no one would pay much attention to her or so she hoped.

The dancer wandered in the direction of the Drunken Fish, intending to mingle with the sailors and anyone else who might be there. If she played her cards right and was incredibly careful then it was entirely possible that she might be able to get some drinks out of some men. The blonde made her way steadily along Sunberth's streets, most people giving her no more than a second glance as they were too caught up in their own business and pleasures, although for some they were the same thing. There were some who paid a bit more attention to her though, their eyes following her along the street. Caela was sure to let her foot slide a bit more as they looked on so that her disguise would hold, a careful adjustment of her cloak exposing the hilt of her dagger. That weapon marked her as someone who could look after herself, not an easy target in other words. That seemed to settle the matter although there could be someone who still had an eye on her; she didn't have eyes in the back of her head after all. She might well have a tail and she'd be none the wiser unless she was approached. If someone startled her, her feeble disguise would probably crumple in ticks.
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[Ssafirsotibones]

1 Spring 516 Bones had decided to party in his own way, albeit not in a very Sunberthian fashion. The streets were full of revelers, drunks, loose woman, and all other manner of humans. He didn't really get it himself, the big deal about the new year, the need to drink and get drunk, but he didn't oppose it. He just had no plans to get drunk himself. Knowing himself, knowing his strength and abilities, he didn't doubt that if he lost control things would go quite poorly. And the last thing he needed was breaking some person, or turning into his dhani form in the middle of town and thus revealing his nature as a Dhani. No, Bones decided to celebrate in a much more subdued way, to make a small purchase he'd been needing to make for awhile. His school of combat was done, and ready to open its doors. He had some degree of excess Mizas. It therefore wouldn't hurt to spend a few. It was for that reason he'd left his newly finished school and headed out into the castle commons, a merchant district of sorts with all manner of services and things for sale, to buy a weapon harness. So far he'd been stringing his weapons about him, which wasn't too good for combat as they tended to jostle or move about. A simple leather weapon harness would fit snugly but not too tight to his body, allow him to wear his weapons with more confidence, and make things easier all around. The first shop he entered had one, and seemed to be a general merchant. However after looking it over he found it was old and damaged. Bits were frayed, leather was cracked in places, and overall it was in a state of disrepair. On to the next shop, which seemed to be a combination clothing merchant and leather worker. In the window on one side was a supple set of black leather armor, while on the other side there was a cloth outfit which one might wear about town on a normal day. Bones however wanted neither of these. No, he just wanted a good harness to hold his various weapons and armaments in a more fitting manner. Right now he had his gladii hanging loosely across his back in their respective sheathes, stuck on a simple leather strip. It took him half a bell to find what he wanted. In that time he went through quite a few. Some were in disrepair. One had a odd bloodstain. A few others were too small. Finally he found one that would work, a simple enough thing made of leather and a few bits of metal for the buckles and slips through which the leather bits fed. Putting it on he got a feel for it, working out how it moved and worked. "These" bits here allowed him to make it a bit tighter or looser. "These" bits when pulled on allowed the size to be adjusted slightly for someone a bit bigger or smaller in the chest/torso/arms. "These" when pulled in such a fashion loosened it, and let him drop it quickly by pushing each shoulder strap off and letting the entire piece of apparel drop. Useful if he wanted to take it off quickly, though not so much for putting it back on. Inside of it he felt quite secure. A span of leather fed about his waist, similar to a belt. Up from that and over each shoulder was another loop of leather with the accompanying buckles, which allowed it to stay up and ride on his shoulders even if the total weight of what was carried was greater than a simple belt would hold up. Just below the neck, near the upper portion of his torso, was fed another leather loop directly parralel to the belt strap below. Then feeding from that upper strap to the belt one below was a pair of crossing straps forming an X across his back. It was onto these X's which he could attach his gladii within their sheathes. Other smaller weapons could be added to the shoulder straps or along his chest, or even upon the belt. Along with the harness Bones grabbed a small dagger sheath, another thing he'd been needing. He had been in possession of a dagger for ages, but had never purchases a scabbard or sheath to hold it as he had his gladii. He didn't have the dagger upon him, but when he got back to his new home he could stow the dagger in its new slot upon his harness. Going over to the owner or person who ran the shop, Bones paid for his new goods. The weapon harness was 5 gm, the dagger scabbard 2 gm, totaling 7 gm for his purchases. With that done Bones spent another nearly half bell putting on his new purchasing, and strapping into place onto his harness the various weapon scabbards. Strapped almost vertically along his back, though at a slight angle to allow them to be drawn more easily, he placed on either side of the X across his back the scabbards for his gladii. He placed his fathers gladius and its sheath within reach of his left arm, and his Isur made gladius and its sheath within reach of his right arm. On his left hip he placed the new empty scabbard for a dagger, and then settled into his new harness by sliding each of the blades home into their respective slots on his back within their respective scabbards. With that done Bones set out, heading back to his school... Or attempting too. In his journey to find a store to buy what he needed, he had managed to get somewhat lost. He knew vaguely where he was, but until he found a specific landmark he was familiar with he'd need to wander a bit until he found his own home and training academy. Bones however didn't let his getting lost sadden him. It was only another chance to see more of Sunberth, and to grow more acquainted with finding his way about the city he currently called home.

[Caela Dorin]

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The dancer was accustomed to drawing attention and holding it, thus she had a difficult time attempting to convince herself that her disguise would make her uninteresting, at least in a sexual sense. The blonde was somewhat paranoid that her attempt at subterfuge would make her a more interesting target for a robbery, but she hoped that anyone with such a goal in mind would simply try to pickpocket her. The young woman was never silly enough to carry large sums of money around with her and today she intended to get other people to spend money on her. As a result, Caela was carrying even less than usual, just a few gold mizas and they were so well hidden, she knew no one could take them from her stealthily.

She resisted the urge to pat her bun to ensure that it was still there. Women patted their hair all the time but it would mean reaching up under the hood and potentially exposing her face. It wasn't worth that and it was probably fine anyway. There was no one someone would try to pick money out of her hair so she was safe from the typical sort of robbery on the streets. As long as she stayed among people then mugging was also unlikely. Not that witnesses would put off any criminal in Sunberth, the blonde simply hoped that being in a crowd would make it too much hassle to mug her. So she tried to stay among people as much as she could, following those who roamed the streets.

What the dancer hadn't anticipated was that there might be an obstruction on one of the main streets.

A crowd had gathered and an impromptu show had commenced. There were instruments, people dancing, grinding against one another or getting in to fights. There were so many people packed into such a small space that she was amazed that it hadn't spread out so that people could breathe. She hovered at the edge of it but there was no chance of them dispersing any time soon by the looks of it. Worse still, she couldn't push her way through it without making herself vulnerable. In that mass of humanity, it was entirely possible that she could be mugged and no one would even notice.

Caela stood in indecision, chewing on her lip as she considered her options. She could double back to a point where the current street met another busy one, which would probably look strange if any one had paid her more than a glance, or she could go down a quieter street. The young woman reasoned that it would only take her a chime or two to get to a busier street if she took a quieter route now. It wouldn't be for long and obviously she could be careful. All she'd have to do would be to walk a little faster and keep her wits about her and she'd be fine. She could always run if necessary and allow her disguise to fall apart, but she reasoned that if the need to run arose, she'd have a lot more to worry about than her disguise.

Shooting a furtive glance back the way she'd come as she turned down a side street, she didn't catch sight of anyone who seemed to be following her. Her foot was dragged along faster, sometimes become a proper step as she hurried along. The traffic in that street seemed to being dropping rapidly and so she decided to take an even quicker shortcut through an alley so that she could return to a place of greater activity rather than walking in plain sight as an easy target. She ducked in to the alley she'd chosen and immediately broke in to a fast walk bordering on a jog. It twisted and turned and she slowed as she reached a point where she would be visible from the next, busier street. It was as just as she relaxed seeing relative safety before her that she heard the running feet close behind her and strong hands grabbed her.

The dancer screamed in to calloused flesh as she as hauled back in to the shadows and out of sight. The knotted ties of her cloak's hood tightened against her throat as her assailant dragged the material and pulled her back with it. The hood slipped off her head, earning a low exclamation of surprise from her attacker as her youthful appearance was revealed. The world whirled by in blur of colours as she was swung around and thrown in to the fist of another, which caught her in the abdomen and sent the air whooshing out of her lungs. The hand over her mouth vanished as did the grip on her hood as she collapsed in to the arms waiting for her. Even if she'd wanted to scream, she couldn't draw enough air to do so; she was panting for breath. In her shock, her first reaction had been to scream but it would get her nowhere. If she'd been near work then someone might have come to investigate and might have helped her because she was an asset but here she was nobody. She was at the mercy of the Sunberthian streets but out here there was no mercy unless someone thought it would be advantageous to help her.

The arms that held her, moved her around with ease as if she was nothing more than a ragdoll. She hadn't recovered enough from her winding to fight back and the strong arms that spun her around told her that such an attempt would be futile. She was tugged back against a body, a thick arm wrapped around her throat, applying pressure and reducing her air supply once more. Black spots appeared in her vision and it wasn't until her legs buckled under her that the pressure eased up enough for her to be able to suck in a few much needed breaths.

"Lookie 'ere. What a pretty prize we 'ave! We get money and some fun for our trouble," the man in front of her sneered. Attackers, two of them, she corrected herself. As if the number made any difference, she was screwed either way.

"Petch you," she wheezed, earning a rumble of laughter against her body and a chuckle from the man in front.

"She's got a bit o' spirit, eh? Well, we'll see if we can break it! Let's see now, where's your money, eh?"

The talker began to pat her down as his companion held arms tightly behind her back. He found the dagger at her waist and tossed it away with a laugh. Fat lot of good it had done her. The nasty smile on his face seemed to say as much. She hadn't even thought to reach for it. Idiot. He began to feel over her curves, patting her crotch before moving up to her breasts, no doubt expecting to find her money stowed away there. She wasn't going to let herself be felt up so she started to squirm, doing her best to kick at him.

"It's not there, you petching bastard so get your petching hands off me or I swear you'll pay for it! My boss will make you regret laying a hand on me if you keep at this. Don't touch me!" she snarled, earning a backhanded slap across her face that had her head whipping sideways. Her face ached where his hand had hit and she was too stunned to speak for a few ticks. She wasn't inclined to speak when she felt the press of cool metal against her throat a moment later. Her eyes widened, the blonde hardly daring to move.

"You were saying?" he sneered. He returned his free hand to her chest to explore with a purposeful slowness as she looked on in horror, not daring to move.
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[Ssafirsotibones]

Bones headed back down the street he had come down to arrive at the shop, glancing about and keeping a good look at his surroundings. Having been a hunter for a long time, Bones knew how to keep aware of his surroundings. He knew what it was to be surrounded by possible foes and threats all about, hunting for various beasts to eat while keeping clear of any Myrian hunting parties. Sunberth was made of stone and wood, of walls and decay, but it wasn't so different than the jungle back home. Not quite the same, but a human jungle in its own way. Soon enough though Bones noticed unfamiliar buildings, and was fairly certain at some point before he'd made a turn which he hadn't made this time. It didn't help that most of the dilapidated structures throughout the city looked the same, as did the various people moving about in thick knots. A door hanging on its hinge(still occupied), an alley with a pair of humans copulating(consensual?), and a road with a large vomit stain(fresh). After he'd passed these and other similar repeating trends, Bones had nearly given up on finding his way. He'd also fought off two different people trying to pick his pocket, the second of which managed to get there entire hand in before Bones stopped him by grabbing the offending limb at the wrist. He was considering squeezing the hand a bit painfully, when he noticed the person attached to the limb was but a child, maybe 7 or 8 years old. Bones released the hand, and the shocked faced youth raced away into an alley, likely off to pilfer from someone else. He wasn't even certain if he was in the same part of town where he had started, since all the human structures looked more or less the same, let alone the various humans. Next he took a turn down an alley to avoid an overturned cart caused by what appeared to be a pair of drunks attempting to get in a fist fight, and ending up grappling each other and tackling said cart. Coming down the alley Bones thought he'd run into another copulating pair, until he'd noticed a few details. For one there was three people, two men. That in and of itself didn't rule it out. But the fact that one man was holding the womans arms pinned, and the other was holding a small blade(knife or dagger? Bones couldn't tell in the light at this distance) to the woman's neck as he moved his hands along her body. Along with that the woman didn't seem to be enjoying herself, or even faking as if she was if for instance she was indeed a prostitute. It seemed it was more likely a robbery or rape, possibly followed by a murder. Bones let out a loud cough from his position about 15 or 20 feet away from the various humans in their various states of struggle, before responding in his normal serious tone. “N'Got a problem here?” Bones asked with one eyebrow raised, staring at the man with the blade mainly, though also flicking occasionally to the woman and the other man's gaze. He also took in another blade on the ground, a dagger which looked like it had been thrown clear of the fight at some point(possibly belonging to the woman?). Bones kept his right hand perched upon the hilt of one of his gladius, ready to draw it if needed and pulling it a good half inch out of its sheath to make sure it was clear and easily ready to be drawn. With the cold of winter not completely gone there was always the chance that the blade could stick in the hilt, frost and cold combining to make the blade become difficult. Pulling it out just a bit made sure it was clear and wouldn't be a problem if he needed to fight. Of course if the two men didn't drawn a sword or something serious, Bones wouldn't escalate the fight by drawing his. For now he was satisfied with letting his blade stay sheathed, unless it became a blade fight. If that happened someone getting seriously injured or dying became likely, and that wasn't Bones goal.

[Caela Dorin]

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OOCSorry for taking so long with this but I wrote a reply, lost it all and couldn't retrieve it. I was more than a little devastated and had a bit of trouble writing it again (it's never the same), but it's done now!

Caela vowed that she wouldn't beg and plead, no matter how far this went; she wouldn't give this bastard the satisfaction. He might molest her, violate her, possibly even murder her when this was all over, but there would still be some small part of her that would remain untouched: her pride. Begging wouldn't get her anywhere anyway but she could still hold on to some dignity; it was the principle of the thing after all. She would only give him hatred and defiance rather than tears and desperate pleas. Her jaw was locked in place as she didn't dare move for fear of the blade held to her throat--it could be a dagger although she couldn't tell from this perspective--so all that was left to her was to stare daggers at him. She let all of her hatred and rage seep in to her gaze as she imagined his painful death at her hands. If she could have she'd have served him with all of the venom of her tongue and spit at him for good measure, but he had taken that agency away from her. She couldn't really struggle either, not if she wanted the tender flesh of her throat to remain unparted.

She fantasised about her molester going up in flames, imagining his shrieks of pain as she tried to block out what he was doing. It was difficult not to notice the touch of his hands, her body set trembling in disgust. She tried to shrink back from his questing fingers, but to no avail. There was no way of getting away from him, try as she might and it only earned his laughter at her expense. He pinched, grasped and twisted at her body and the pain of it brought the sting of tears to her eyes. The dancer did her best to keep the tears from trailing down her cheeks, gritting her teeth and trying to keep herself calm. There was no way to ignore what was being done to her, but she could only hope that this would be over with soon. It was entirely possible that she'd been killed when this was over and left a cold corpse in this dirty alleyway like trash. Alive, she'd be no danger to them, she couldn't get revenge, unless of course they believed her threats, but they didn't even know who she worked for. Dead men told no tales though and thus if they did believe her, they could cover their arses by slitting her throat.

His hand were drifting lower and lower, and he soon encountered a barrier to his explorations. He was trying to gain access to her upper thighs but she had her legs clamped shut, strong muscles from dancing meaning that they couldn't be easily pried open. The blade was pressed to her skin, a gasp coming from her lips as the skin was broken and she felt the trickle of heat dribble down her throat. He fixed her with a meaningful look, but she stayed stubborn. He twisted at her flesh again and pressed the blade harder against her neck so that she felt more blood begin to come down her neck. There was still a chance that she might come out of this situation alive and she couldn't hold strong when there was a knife slicing in to her neck like this. Reluctantly she gave in, wincing as he moved to get at the newly opened gap.

It was just as he began his groping again that a coughing appeared a short distance away. The feeling stopped, the man in front of her turning his head towards the sound. She craned her neck as much as she dared to get a look at the source of it. There was a tall, muscular man who stood watching the scene. His gaze was keen, his eyes darting this way and that as he took in the situation. To Caela, he was a possible source of rescue, something that she hadn't even dared hope for, but now that he was here, she couldn't allow this chance to slip by her.

"Nah, mate. Shove off," her molester offered in response to the man's inquiry. "We're a bit busy, ya know." She felt the rumble of laughter at her back from the man who held her.

"No! Help me please! He-" she cried out, her pleas for help cut off by the violent press of the knife, an aggressive twist of her wrists behind her as well.

"Shut up, you cunt," the man hissed at her, his face of mask of fury. His gaze turned back to the muscled man, the knife pulled away from her throat to be waved at him. She didn't take note of the blood that was on it--her blood--but only took note of the fact that it was gone, even if it was for a few ticks. The blonde bounced up on to her toes to give herself a bit more height, using her upward momentum to jerk her head up and back. She succeeded in catching the man holding her by surface, the crown of her head making hard contact with his chin in a way that set her head ringing. He took a stunned step back, bringing her with him and she tried to tug free of his grasp. He recovered quickly, jerking painfully at her arms. Once more, he caught her in a headlock and struggle as she might there was no way out of it. Her air was being cut off as she tried in vain to pry his arm from her throat. She followed the arm up to his face, trying to claw his eyes out. He obviously had a free hand though because he wrenched her hand away, pulling on her arm with such force that it set her arm on fire at the socket. She screamed weakly in agony, the world going out of focus as all of the circumstances conspired against her. All of the fire went out of her and she went limp, still conscious but only for now.

She wondered faintly where the muscled man had gone.


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[Ssafirsotibones]

Bones question was of course a rhetorical one. Even a half blind man could see what was going on. Still, he'd made the effort and asked the question, giving them a chance to repent. They had not taken Bones offered chance, and so Bones felt no qualms in what was to come. The second man reacted to the woman's attempt at throwing off her attacker, as did Bones. The difference was in the type of reaction. The man flinched, his eyes darting to the scrum evolving between victim and attacker. Bones took a quiet step forward towards this second man, getting close before he had a chance to fully respond. Bones could see that the girl still had fight in her, even if she wasn't too skilled. If he'd been in the same scenario he'd have been free in moments. But trying was still important, as was fire and will. As Bones took a step forward the second man reacted with another flinch, this time his body seizing for a moment. Once that broke he turned towards Bones, slipping a longish short blade out of some pocket within his ragged clothes. But he was too late, too slow, as Bones swooped in all in one smooth forward sweeping motion. He'd not stopped moving once, hadn't flinched or slowed since the starting point that set him off- the girls fight and thrashing. Up close Bones could see it was a single bladed knife, not a dagger. Continuing on with his upward sweeping motion like a wave coming in to shore Bones swung a hand up palm first, stopping at the offending wrist of the hand holding the threatening dagger. With a deep growl Bones simply said “Drop it.” He gave the man a half moment to respond, to drop the blade, before he started to apply pressure to the wrist of the hand which held the dagger. And more pressure. The man instinctively tried to lash out with his hand, but Bones held it firm. When that didn't work he tried to swing at Bones head with the other fist. That however was a poor choice, as Bones was in his realm of specialty, close quarters combat. With a mix of techniques from basic unarmed combat and more specialized wrestling, Bones fought on two fronts. He applied force and leverage with his left hand on the man's right wrist, pulling him forward and applying pain and pressure and making him off balance. With his other hand he swung out an elbow, catching the man mid swing before he could connect his punch to Bones' skull, a harsh elbow to the forearm. Another twist and squeeze of his left and the mans hand went limp on the blade, and it dropped from his grasp. After that it was a simple turning pull maneuver, as the man was already off his footing and off balance, and Bones threw him through the air head first into the alley wall. Colliding with the wall the man went limp and crumpled in a heap on the ground. Unconscious, not dead, though there was a good chance he had a skull injury. If he was exceedingly lucky it would be bruised. If he was less lucky, he'd have a fractured or even broken skull from the collision. Turning to the other two he saw the man had the girl in a headlock, the arm holding a blade was up against her throat trying to choke her out, while the other arm held her hand away from his face. Reaching back Bones drew his Isur made gladius, pulling it out with the small sound of leather on metal. Unfortunately for the man still busy trying to choke the girl out, he was totally preoccupied with attacking and choking her out. Taking a step forward he brought the blade up and then straight forward, bringing it to rest with the tip just barely touching the man's neck. If he tried to move or squirm he'd likely get cut on the blade, and all Bones had to do was apply pressure and he'd send the light blade clean through the man's neck before he had a chance to respond. “One opportunity. Drop it, and her, and live. Don't, and don't. Up to you.”

[Caela Dorin]

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The dancer was too caught up in her own private hell to notice what was going on between her molester and her potential rescuer. There had definitely been movement but it had really only been on the edge of her vision. It was a bit difficult to focus on the other things going on around you when you were fighting for your life. Proper fighters probably paid attention to a number of things in the environment that they found themselves in but Caela wasn't one and so she could only focus on a very immediate threat. A threat that she had tried to combat but which was now fast throttling the life out of her despite her best efforts to stop the bastard. She'd thought that she'd heard something--or rather someone--hitting something else with violence but it could just as easily have been the blood rushing in her ears. Things were starting to play tricks on her after all. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears, her own frantic heartbeat. Each beat could be her last and she listened to it in terror. Her vision was strange, the colour ebbing and fading, spots seeming to flash in front of her.

There was no fight left in the dancer. Her throat was almost held shut, each desperate breath doing nothing for the growing agony of her lungs as they screamed at her for air. She'd once seen a fish taken out of the water and it too had gasped for oxygen without getting any in spite of its efforts. That's what she'd become now, a fish out of water. She'd die just like that fish once her body used up all her air and couldn't get anymore. She'd been so close to possible freedom and yet it seemed that she would end up a cold corpse in a alleyway all the same.

Movement blurred in her vision as something moved rapidly towards her. She closed her eyes, wondering if it was Dira coming to claim her. There were words but her eyes were so heavy and she was so very tired. The words were received as garbled sounds as her consciousness fell away. She slipped away as the pressure on her throat began to ease, air rushing in to her aching lungs even as her body collapsed to the ground, like a marionette with its strings cut. Any awareness she had was limited; she wasn't truly taking anything in and she wouldn't remember it afterwards courtesy of her oxygen starved memory. There might have been movement above her as the big man stepped over her limp body in a stupid decision to take on the man who had just floored his mate. He was a big man who relied on force and brutality rather than quickness or technique and so for one trained as Bones was he wouldn't take much effort to floor.

When Caela awoke, whatever had happened was already well over and the blonde didn't have an inkling of where she was. To be perfectly honest, she didn't fully know who she was. She was a dry, scratchy throat, a wheezing breath and a being of pain. Her throat hurt, both inside and out, as well as her shoulder, her wrists, her stomach and various other places where the aches were considerably less than the others. She groaned, wincing at the agony in which such a noise resulted. Her eyes flickered open, the lids ridiculously heavy. Blurred shapes, shifting colour, light and shadow, they were all that she could see and she couldn't make any sense of it all. The whole thing made her head hurt and the effort was too much. She closed her eyes again with another groan.

"What the petch?" she croaked, not expecting an answer. The young woman searched her memory, trying to fill in the blank that had accompanied her return to consciousness. Had she been attacked? Raped? There was no feeling of pain in her nether regions so the latter seemed to be out, thank the gods, but what had she done to herself? She hadn't felt this bad since... ever. She'd been battered and bruised before but this was new. What was with her throat?

OOCI left the description of the fight up to you and I also leave the time she's out up to you. You're also welcome to move her to a new location if you like.
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[Ssafirsotibones]

Bones simply stared back as the man holding the woman glared at him. Anger was clear on his face. Anger that his easy victory had been thwarted, angry that someone would intercede. Clearly things weren't going as the norm for him. But then, Bones actions were the oddity, and any other time things would have more likely than not gone exactly as he'd expected with no one getting involved. The man dropped the blade and released his tightening grip on the woman. As he did she began to slide downward, and Bones was forced to pull back his blade lest it should cut her also. Which of course had been the mans intent, using her as a distraction and shield and forcing Bones to back off even if only a step. As soon as Bones pulled his blade back and took a step backward, the woman slid to the floor. Before she'd even fully settled the hard headed man stepped over his victim and came at Bones, holding yet another blade in his hands which he'd extracted from somewhere in his clothes. With a growl the man came at Bones, blade in a downward hold, other hand in a fist as he tried to rush him. With the gladius in his hand Bones made a simple upward sweeping motion, catching the edge of his blade against the dagger and sending it flying out of the assailants hand. The assailant kept on though, trying to punch Bones in the throat. Bones reached out with his spare hand and grabbed the man at the wrist, at first pushing so that the blow went wide by a foot, and then grabbing at the wrist and pulling. The man came off his feet, half jumping to stop himself from falling. While he was distracted Bones lifted his gladius up high, and then brought the hilt directly down on the side of the mans head. Not a clean precise sword strike as he usually used, more like something a barroom brawler would do, but effective enough. And less lethal than if he'd put the sword through him and let him bleed out. The man crumpled to the ground. After a moment Bones went over to inspect the woman. She was lying across the ground, breathing awkwardly as she lay on her face. Bones put away his blade on his back, and then gently picked her up and propped her against the alley wall. As he set her against it, he heard a sound behind him, and came about to see the man he'd hit in the head with the hilt f his gladius racing away down the alley. He'd not even made an attempt to rescue his partner in crime, who at the moment was still unconscious. No honor amongst criminals, Bones thought to himself. Apparently the hilt to the head hadn't knocked him out, and he'd only been faking. As he raced away Bones could see the large darkening bruise on the side of his head, and a small trickle of blood running down his scalp from the impact. But apparently he had a hard head and was still able to make his escape. Bones could have chased after him, but that would require leaving the unconscious woman with the knocked out man. The first man who he'd thrown into a wall was definitely not faking. It was a chime or two after the second man left that the woman stirred, letting out a groan. As she cursed Bones looked down at her, letting out a sigh. “You fight bad. You fail. I fought good. I won. He fall. He run. D'at it.”

[Caela Dorin]

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The blonde swallowed, the movement difficult and painful. It was like she'd tried to eat something sharp that had stuck in her throat, but this feeling was akin to having had the whole of her gullet scratched. It felt swollen, narrowed so it seemed almost impossible to get down her own saliva. Her chest ached and she was slightly breathless as if she'd been pushing her body too much and it had run out of air. Her head ached and there was a throbbing pain in her shoulder at the socket.

A voice came from above her and her eyes opened wide in surprise. She squinted up at the man, forcing herself to blink rapidly to adjust to the light. The man standing over her was tall, muscled and armed. Furthermore, his features looked familiar to her and her eyes lit up with recognition, his face helping to unravel pieces of her memories. She could remember the men who had grabbed her, the sensation of hands touching where she did not want them to touch, pain, fear, adrenaline, the man before her but her memories were fragmented. There was definitely something crucial missing, something that linked those disjointed bits with where she was now. She was sitting against a wall, which definitely wasn't like anything she remembered. She'd been standing he last she could recall.

"How the petch did I get here?" she croaked, she raised a hand to massage her throat. Her fingers moved over something crusty and sticky in places. As she rubbed over it, the crust came off, the stickiness increasing and giving rise to liquid. She pulled her hand back to peer at it and saw the dried blood and the smear of something fresh. She gasped, feeling at the spot again and coming back with blood on her fingertips, the metallic scent reaching her nostrils now. "My neck is cut?" she wailed, her voice scratchy and breaking on the high notes. She stared up at him with horrified eyes, trying to recall when this had happened. Caela tried to stand up, using the wall behind her for support but had the world blur a little, her sense of balance sliding sideways. She clutched at the wall for support but it was too unyielding and unwilling to let her grab it so her instinct made her reach for the man, seeking his help. If she'd thought about it then she wouldn't have made a grab for a stranger, when she didn't know who he was. He seemed to be a good guy though. He'd helped her, she was pretty sure. After all, he hadn't tried to grope her or anything.

"Oh gods, I feel like I'm drunk and hungover at the same time," she complained. She'd had some bad experiences in her time with some unfortunate injuries and hurts but this was definitely the worst one she'd experienced. The dancer felt like shyke. She hoped that it passed some time soon because she couldn't do anything if her body wanted to topple over sideways. She was a mess and she wasn't having it. "I can remember bits and pieces so you helped me, right?" She tried to look at him but his image wouldn't stay still so she closed her eyes again, hoping that everything would settle down.

"I really should be able to fight my way out of things by now but can I? No!" she was half talking to herself but it would certainly be loud enough for him to hear her, even in spite of her croak.
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[Ssafirsotibones]

Bones raised an eyebrow as she cursed once more, asking how she had gotten where she currently was. Shrugging, Bones answered with a simple “I put.” In response to her comment about her cut neck, Bones shrugged and gave an equally short “Not bad, it'll heal.” As the female human rose, Bones stood back, letting her rise on her own. Clearly she wished to regain her feet, even if she was unsteady on them. He didn't offer a hand up, since the human did not request it, instead relying on the not so well made Sunberthian wall. However when that proved too much the woman half fell and half reached out, grabbing at Bones, at which point Bones did assist her. He put one arm under an armpit, hooking around her side, and holding her up easily with a surprising strength. When the human questioned Bones on his role, on if he'd given assistance, Bones replied with a simple nod of acknowledgement. At her comment at her own failing at combat, Bones let a small odd smile cross his lips. Not a creepy smile, or a scary one, more akin to someone attempting to make a smile while not familiar with their own lips, or perhaps someone attempting the expression after someone explained it to him in words but without him ever actually seeing it. “You fight bad. No learning before doing. I do learning for fighting. If want, I teach at my... Fighting Academy. You learn if want.” Bones was of course referring to his fighting school, the one that had opened just this season called Bare Fists and Broken Bones. He was already accepting students, though as he'd only just opened the school word of it hadn't spread through all of Sunberth.