Blood and Sweat {Sulavik}

by **Robert Cithon** on March 31st, 2011, 11:45 pm

15th of Spring 511AV

It was a warm spring day. The sun had long since risen from it’s resting place beneath the tree line. He decided he would take advantage of his day off. Robert had no duties today, Syndre had not informed him that he needed his assistance today. And his employers at the Silver Sliver gave him the day off, said he deserved because of how well he maintained his composure under bad circumstances.

Robert left Ravok in the dust this day. He tried his hardest to escape the confines of the city at least once a week. He was beginning to feel homely in the city, it’s unforgiving streets, dark secrets, and hidden watcher called to him now. He was becoming a full fledged Ravokian. But in order to survive in the city, one must conform a little. It was a brutal place to those who attempted to resist it fully.

He had left early in the morning, taking his weapons, a waterskin, and a change of shirt. He had every intention of staying outside and sweating all day. Robert was a firm believer in hard work and dedication. You would get no where in life without one or the other, both were preferred qualities to him though. So many seemed people to lack either nowadays though, it was depressing to think about.

He came upon a nice outlet on the shoreline, with a clear view of the floating city from his viewpoint. He decided this would be an excellent place to spend the day and sweat out his troubles. Robert dropped his waterskin beside a nearby log, the shade would keep the water from the suns penetrating rays. His sword, he shoved point down into the ground. His chipped axe he removed from his waist, and leaned against the same log as his waterskin.

Robert scanned the surrounding area, he was in an opening in the forest surrounding Ravok. The grass was fresh and brightly green, spring fully setting in here. The opening was probably only 30 paces wide every direction. It made a perfect secluded spot to train in. Privacy being the main reason. Satisfied with his discovery, and the fact he spotted no hidden dangers, he slowly removed his jacket. With it, majority of his hidden blades as well.

Robert began stretching his worn body. First he stretched his somewhat lengthy legs. The longer h held a position, the more comfortable he was becoming. Then he moved on to his arms, it had been a few day since he had actually used them. One over the other, then reverse. The Robert moved on to his cramped back. Bending as far back as he could, his bare chest absorbing the sunlight and feeling him with a sense of peace. “Ahh..feels great to be out” He said to himself smiling.

Satisfied he had stretched enough to accommodate his training he slowly made his way back toward his belongs. Only a few feet away, it was not long before he was reclaiming his sword. Robert pulled the sword out of the ground roughly, he took his spare hand and wiped off the sharp edges, clearing any remaining dirt of his blade. He quickly go into a standard defense stance, his sword held high, point down facing an invisible opponent. Robert began te motion of countering invisible attacks. It as only moments before his body was sweating profusely, he was a hard worker. And trained harder than was necessary. But he loved every minute of it.

OOCEnter however you want. Consider we probably aren't good friends right now, especially because of the other thread. Where I imagine we will have a few choice words and a good brawl.

by **Sulavik** on April 9th, 2011, 6:21 am

He kept rising early. In Riverfall, he had been a late riser. He ‎would stay in bed for as long as possible before he had to run to the Tuvya Sasaran to train. ‎His father had been irritated whenever he had done that, but instead of being direct about ‎dealing with a lazing, dozing Sulavik, his uncle had often been sent in to ramble about the ‎finer point of the Council of Elders until Sulavik yelled at him to shut up, and jumped out ‎of bed merely to escape the incessant chatter. Those days were light hearted.‎

After he had killed his uncle, he had woken early from nightmares. He kept reliving the ‎events of that day, kept seeing the blood spurting out of his uncle's throat, kept hearing the ‎roar of Makil in his ears. It had woken him early, every morning on the travel through the ‎Wildlands, and his beginning days in Ravok. He hadn't minded so much - it was a blood ‎pumping way to start the day.‎

But then he had met Solat. Now Solat was in his dreams. Betraying him to the Ceruleans, ‎making a mockery of him. He had loved Solat. Not entirely, they had not reached that point ‎before everything fell apart - but if they had stayed together, and Solat had been who he ‎said he was, they could have grown into something amazing. Now, the only piece of Solat he ‎remembered was the cruel ex-knee breaker who betrayed his lover without a thought. These ‎dreams he minded. He woke up from these.‎

It was this morning he decided to go out and play with his Lakan for a bit. The weapon was ‎so sacred to the Akalak. He felt it was time to devote several hours to it, just feeling the ‎smooth steel that meant and held so much. The dreams, and the occurances on Winter had made Sulavik even ore driven than he already was. He had been beaten by the Ceruleans once. It was likely that he would be again, after he had killed his father. He needed to train. he needed to improve.

He had gotten up from his room at the Boarding House and left, walking quickly and quietly through the Nitrozian Plaza. as he walked, he saw a stocky familiar figure. A sarcastic smile graced his features. It was the bouncer from the Silver Sliver! He too had his sword at his side, and seemed to be hurrying out from the plaza. Oh this was just too good. Carefully, quietly, still trying to keep unnoticed - or as unnoticed as an Akalak in Ravok can be - he began to follow the man at a reasonable distance.

They exited the plaza, exited Ravok, until they were walking along the admittedly beautiful shoreline of the lake. The bouncer lead them to a clearing, secluded and quiet. The perfect place to train. Evidently the bouncer thought so too, as he took out his sword after stretching and going through a series of forward attacks. Sulavik watched, smiling.

You're not feeling too angsty and depressed today.

Nah, Makil. I'm not.

Good. You have my full permission to go and kick the shyke out of that petching bouncer then.

Yessir.

Sulavik waltzed from his spot in the trees out into the clearing, still behind the human. A wolf whistle escaped his mouth, waiting for the human to turn around. When he did, he would find that Sulavik had his Lakan out, a sadistic smile on his face. He was dragging the tip of the dagger lightly along his forearm, a slight raised scratch appearing on the blue skin, but no blood. Not yet, anyway.

"You look good sweaty," Sulavik drawled, a lazy grin on his face. He was trying to get a rise out of the human - literally or figuratively, he didn't really mind. "Should love to see you all tired and worn out like you are now under me in my bed. What say we give it a go?"

‎

by **Robert Cithon** on April 20th, 2011, 8:54 pm

When Robert heard a voice disrupting him, he was truly surprised. No sense of being watched, sign of being followed, or a distant figure had given warning to the Akalak’s presence. Robert lost his sense of balance, nearly falling forward. His sword sliced into the ground in an ugly swing. The move was an easy one, only the appearance of the blue giant had ruined his movements.

Regaining his composure quickly, Robert straightened his back standing proud. “Watch your tongue, Akalak.” Robert spoke scornfully. He was in no mood to be interrupted, much less antagonized. He would not stand for such open insults.

Eyeing the newly appearing giant, Robert weighed his options. If he fought bloodshed was sure to occur. Especially with the past he shared with the opposing man. If he tried to avoid a fight by means of negotiation, that would undoubtedly fall through. And lastly, if Robert attempting to run, which was by no means an option. The Akalak could easily gain ground on him quickly, those long limber legs would have no trouble overtaking Robert.

“What brings you out, on such a beautiful day?” Robert asked sarcastically. He had no personal qualms with the man, feelings unlikely shared by the Akalak. Robert remembered the look of pain on his face while departing the tavern. A look more of hurt pride than anything, also one of the worst pains to ever overcome. Robert held his sword to his side, at ease to an untrained eye, He was in fact ready to defend himself if the need occurred.

by **Sulavik** on April 23rd, 2011, 12:16 am

Sulavik whistled innocently as he walked out into the clearing, his thoughts far from such. The man had embarrassed him in front of a whole tavern of people. He deserved to be equally as embarrassed as Sulavik still was. His nose was still swollen and bruised and twinged whenever he grinned, but it did not stop him chuckling at the human when he began to fall, his sword slicing the ground like it were a body.

"Watch my tongue?" he scoffed scornfully. "You should watch your knee. You broke my nose, bouncer!" His voice was still cheery, but there was a definite malevolent undertone to it. Sulavik held a grudge, and he would not let go of it easily. He did not let go of his father's; a matter of infinite more magnitude, what made this man think he would let a broken nose slide? His smile was vicious, predatorial, speaking of revenge and pain and everything violent. He would not realise it, for Sulavik doubted he knew much of the Akalak plight, but Makil was dangerously close to the surface - and Sulavik was perfectly fine with that.

Sulavik sighed, mockingly, as if he were disappointed. "I feel so unloved," he moaned. "Nobody wants the poor gay Akalak." He was joking to be sure, but as he said it, he realised how true the words were. Instead of wallowing in self loathing, he let that sink in, fuelling his and Makil's anger, all too willing to use it against the stuck up bouncer.

He took the Lakan in his right hand, and slowly, he trailed the tip down his left bicep, as if accentuating the muscle there. "You sure you don't want some of this? Last chance!" A thin scratch appeared on the skin, and in one spot, it oozed a light trail of superficial blood. Tentatively, he raised a finger to it, touching and dousing the tip of it in the blood, and brought it slowly to his mouth, touching it to his tongue, tasting the blood. A moment passed before Sulavik made a face.

Ew, Makil, why do you like this stuff?

How do you NOT like it?

His attention turned back to the bouncer, the grin reestablishing itself on his face. "Do you doubt that I came out here to get another glimpse of you?" In a way, it was true. He was out here to spar, but the man had led him to this very spot. He was here for the human in a way. "What's your name? I can't very well call you 'bouncer' or 'human' all the time." He liked to know the name of those he fought. It made them more real, rather than just a defeated broken body on the floor.

‎