icicle

Just My Luck[Icicle and HiddenBeauty13

Drake heard what he assumed to be the voice of the lady he met earlier, so he continued on through the entrance to the building. Immediately after entering, an almost unbearable heat shot across the room as a foundry crucible passed by. A few men looked over to see the faces of the intruders, but quickly returned to their tasks after seeing the walking tank charging through. Six anvils were lined up along the left side of the large room, along with two large furnaces. A group of men were busying themselves with hammers and tongs, forging and drawing tools and weapons with surprising fluidity.

Steam erupted from a bath of water which one of the metalsmiths dropped a metal rod into. The painfully loud sound of metal on rock pierced the air as a man spun a grindstone. The right side had a wall of molds and a rack of tools and materials set in an organized chaos. At the far wall was a wall of buffered and finished-looking items, a few doors, and a flight of stairs. Drake continued his quick pace until he reached a table with what seemed to be a merchant behind it. “Ahh, you’re ba-“ the man behind the table started, a fake smile lining his face.

He was instantly interrupted by the guard as he shouted, “I need light armor, something I won’t laugh at.” He then gestured behind himself and added, “suit her up and put it on my tab.” With that said, the merchant nodded at Drake, who then shifted over and rushed up the stairs, his footsteps heavy on the wooden surface. The man reached the second floor and walked over to a lady at a leather molding station worked at her task. He stopped a few feet away and gave a quick bow, then waited for her to respond.

“You’re too polite,” the leather crafter commented, smiling over at him, “give me a minute, I’m almost on quota.” Drake then nodded and walked over to a chair, cautiously taking a seat. “You’re getting careless,” she added, continuing her craft as Drake watched. The guard was silent, more concerned than nervous. The leather crafter looked up after a minute and asked, “what’s wrong?” Drake sighed, then pointed to his helmet. “You know how much I hate taking this off,” he started. The lady giggled after hearing this, her voice bemused as she responded, “want me to handle it again?”

Drake shook his head, quickly adding, “Delta six.” The leather crafter looked up in disbelief, but said nothing. With one last tug, she finished making what looked like a quiver and set it on a mold to dry. “I’m honored,” she commented, her voice laced with venom as she wiped off her hands on her apron, “that you would ask me for something like this.” Drake rose from his seat, then began walking back towards the stairs as he said, “don’t let him down.” The guard then walked back down the stairs, a frown set across his face beneath his visor. I’m sure she can, but this is definitely pushing the limit he thought, looking around to see where the merchant took the thief-lady.

Just My Luck[Icicle and HiddenBeauty13

The two men watched as Raine glanced at Flake, more-or-less silent. “How much would I have to pay you to get some new armor from you?” she asked, pulling up the hood of her cloak. Drake answered quickly, wasting no time, “I’ll assume that’s a yes. Follow me.” The guard then set a quick pace and made his way over to the shopping district, motioning for a nearby guard to take his spot at the stand. As he walked, people noticeably altered their paths so as to avoid bumping into him.

Flake followed the behemoth with a skip to his step, grinning all the way. After leaving the alley, Flake hopped off in a different direction and started sprinting away, surprising a great many people as he flawlessly avoided them. After a few seconds, he hopped up on a sleeping person’s head and managed to grab hold of a balcony. From there, Flake launched himself up, onto the roof of a short building and started to run and jump from building to building, steadily working his way up.

“Ignore him,” Drake said, assuming the lady was still behind him, “by the time you’re suited up properly he’ll still be messing around.” The armored man gently brushed aside a drunk man who was in his way, then continued walking through the shopping square, his location in mind. The shouts of a nearby vendor caused him to turn his head, “buy bread! Cheapest in Talgot!” the merchant shouted, a fake smile plastered across his face. He didn’t bother to respond to questions and accusations flying at him, mostly because he was busy. He couldn’t tell whether or not the lady he met was still following him, or talking, but he continued through the chaotic shopping district anyways.

Every step was met with a shout, and each one steadily brought back Drake’s grin. No matter how stupid he is, he’ll never take what matters away from this town, the guard thought, waving thoughtfully in response to the greeting of a jewelry merchant. “Thanks again!” came a shrill voice from below, a little boy running by in glee. The soldier eyed a large building in the distance, one which was isolated from the rest of the chaotic market. The building had a large banner hanging above the entrance with the town guard insignia on it. “When you walk in, ignore everyone and continue following me,” the guard ordered, turning his head back slightly in the hopes that the lady could hear him.

Just My Luck[Icicle and HiddenBeauty13

The assassin smirked and sheathed her dagger, then responded with a curt shrug, “I slept rather well, actually. Thanks.” After her response, she pointed towards Drake and continued, “I assume that you know this guy here?” Drake grunted and Flake nodded after hearing the lady’s question, then the guard said , “too well sometimes.” For the next few minutes, Raine walked over to her armor and attempted to get suited up once more. As she did, Flake approached Drake and whispered in his ear, “Delta six.”

Drake bellowed out a laugh, then Flake started to chuckle as well, leaning against the wall in the alley to support him. “You’re kidding,” Drake begged, still laughing under his visor. “I’m not,” Flake retorted, serious once again. Drake looked over at Raine for a few seconds in disbelief, then whispered in Flake’s ear, “that’s more than just a favor.” The bounty hunter quickly whispered back, “that’s a lie and you know it.” The exchange of whispers continued for another few seconds, then stopped as Raine walked back over.

Drake sighed, then asked, “do you need any armor, miss?” Flake smirked at Raine as she approached, fitting the stop-pin back into his sheath as he watched. Only one person from the original crowd remained by that point in time, a red-haired boy with a wooden sword at his hip. A lady swiftly walked by and rushed him away, thus ending the crowd scene. “Plates like that couldn’t even stop Drake’s fist,” Flake commented, grinning at the hunk of metal next to him with a competitive grin. At this comment, Drake rose his arm and flicked the bounty hunter’s shoulder with a loud thwack. The only response the guard got was a quiet chuckle, so he looked back over at Raine.

Just My Luck[Icicle and HiddenBeauty13

Drake noted and ignored the low whistle the lady behind him uttered, then listened as she whispered, “My name is Misti.” Drake grinned as she continued, instantly checking off “meet a smartass lady” from his bucket list. “and I saw movement about ten feet from where we’re standing at an angle of elevation of about sixty six degrees. Any plans on how we’re going t get him to show himself, Mr. whatever-your-name-is?” After hearing her speak, all Drake could do was roll his eyes and continue looking sharp, hoping to notice when the enemy made a move.

Flake carefully listened to their words as they attempted to quietly speak to one another, then decided to reveal himself. Who would’ve known. So lady assassins do learn something at that academy he thought, silently drawing his saber. He rested it against his arm, then picked up a rock, adjusted his voice towards the back wall once more, and shouted, in a new, scratchy voice, “Fire!!” After doing so, he threw the rock at a trashcan and jumped from the balcony, launching himself down with aid from the railing.

Drake braced himself for a heavy projectile, but none came, instead the plink of a rock hit a trashcan. “ABOVE!” he shouted, instantly pulling his sheath down along his back, drawing his blade with a loud, metallic screech. The figure was falling so fast that his features were nearly indistinguishable, besides his black leather armor and glinting blade. The guard’s huge blade only barely made it out of it’s sheath as Flake’s blade slammed onto the captain’s helmet, releasing a few bright sparks and a powerful thud. Drake stumbled back for a second, trying to pull his sword back towards his chest, but Flake was moving too quick for the heavy soldier.

“Hey buddy,” Flake said, swiftly chopping at the joint of the gauntlet against his radial plate. The heavy soldier’s hand instantly released from shock, causing his weapon to fall to the ground. “YOU!!!” Drake roared, reaching for the man with his other hand. Flake instantly brought his saber over to the man’s other arm, savagely whacking the same spot on his other arm, this time with the blunt side of the blade.

“Yeah,” Flake said, quickly shifting positions. At the moment he finished speaking, he delivered a sideways thrust-kick directly at the soldier’s chest plate, tossing him back at the assassin, “me.” The soldier landed on the ground with a resounding thud, and as the sound echoed across the alley, Flake sheathed his saber, a wide smirk on his face.

“How’d you sleep, missy?” Flake asked, directing his attention towards Raine as his royally-pissed-off friend started to get up once again. The crowd near the entrance to the alley was erupting with conversation as Flake watched the lady, the sounds of metal plate thundering as Drake quickly got to his feet, grabbing his large sword with a grunt. “You owe me five for that act, ya idiot,” Drake mumbled, sheathing his sword smoothly as he stood up once more.

Just My Luck[Icicle and HiddenBeauty13

As Drake continued walking down the alleyway, the lady with the dagger turned around, her narrow eyes piercing through the tax collector’s soul. “You gave me a warning for attacking you, not for standing here and minding my own business., So why don’t you go on back to your tax collection booth and cheat more people out of their-“ then came the second voice. Drake looked around, trying to find the source based on the reverberations, but the sound seemed to come from multiple directions, clearly an amateur ventriloquist.

After a second, Drake being considerably closer to Raine, she turned back around and said, “Is this what you do to people that don’t pay taxes? Get your buddies and interrogate them when they’re alone?” Drake continued walking, ignoring her words as he did so. I wish I’d just taken her coin to shut her up, he thought, grimacing. Before long, she was talking yet again, this time in a mocking tone, “Well, mister tax collector? What do you have to say for yourself?” Drake brushed past Raine quite casually, but was then greeted by two more voices.

Flake adjusted his voice towards the back end of the alley once more and, in the same voice as before, he said, “one more step and we’ll shoot the girl.” The sound reverberated off the wall perfectly, but then, Flake decided to add one more voice, this one a bit more raspy and aged, “Yeah, don’t take another step, ya’ punk.” Flake then watched as Drake stepped in front of Raine, shielding her from the unseen enemies at the back of the alley. He reached for his sword, saying, “You know who you’re messing with?” He grasped the hilt of his sword, his knuckles popping from the sudden strain.

Flake adjusted his voice once again and, in the raspy voice, he retorted, “dern’ straight. We’re talking to the drunkest bas** in Talgot.” Drake gritted his teeth, but the voice wasn’t echoing in the same way. He quickly looked up, but all he could see were balconies. He’s on a balcony, but which one? Drake was glad for the excitement, but he didn’t want any civilians getting hurt, especially due to him. In a low voice, Drake told Raine, “hey, miss whoever-you-are, look up, see if you spot any movement.” Flake sighed silently, knowing that they were already on to his little plan. He closed his eyes and retreated from view a half-minute ago when Drake first started to look up. He was now waiting, thinking up the next move in his little game.

Just My Luck[Icicle and HiddenBeauty13

Drake continued with his daily tasks, dealing with the hundreds of annoying, whiny and overall weak citizens of Talgot, cursing the nobles with each clink and pencil mark. He noticed the Harold run out of an alleyway in a hurry, later followed by the lady from earlier. He watched her from the corner of his eye, and noticed her going back towards the alley behind his stand. So that’s who she was he thought, a smirk spreading over his visor-covered face, maybe next time it’ll be me doing the interrogation.

---

Immediately before sunrise, Flake arrived at the Sweeper’s hall. The place was filled with statues, suits of armor, town banners, and plenty of other superfluous decorations. Torches lit every square foot of the huge room, and tables were set at both walls, excluding the entrance and the far end. It was more-or-less empty, with the exception of a few bounty hunters and desk workers, but the noise was still exceptionally loud due to the acoustics of the place.

At the far end was a long table where the Sweeper sat during his shift. Of course, at this point in the day, the Sweeper was still sleeping. Flake grinned in excitement and quickly sprinted over to the bulletin board near the first table. On the board were a few assassination requests from townsfolk, missing persons, pets and possessions, and other such random requests which, of course, only the strongest of all the men in the world could possibly handle.

Flake eyed the papers, then quickly ran over to one of the staff members. He chatted for a few mintues, gathering details about the continuation of town politics, then sprinted out of the hall with a blank expression. Immediately after slamming through the doorway of the Sweeper’s hall, Flake long-jumped over the railing of the long stairway leading up to the hall’s entrance and landed in a roll on top of a building’s roof. From there, he began to run, jump, grapple and climb like a madman, catching the gaze of a few city-goers who weren’t yet used to his activity.

An hour or so later, Flake hopped off a clothes line, smiling innocently back at an angry lady as she threw random objects at him. “What part of privacy don’t you understand!” she screamed, invoking an innocent chuckle from him. “My pardon, I was merely transversing the city and your clothes happened to be in the way,” he replied, bowing low as he dropped from the balcony which the clothes line was attached to. The lady screamed once again, this time in terror, as she watched the gentleman fall, however, he disappeared as the wind blew a shirt into her line of sight.

As the sun rose, the trouble-making bounty hunter finally arrived at his destination. Peeking out from behind a chimney, Flake stared down at the west central shopping district, eyeing each face, on the search for his target. He was panting from exhaustion, having ran, jumped, climbed, and hit the ground an immeasurable amount over the past few hours. Once he finally spotted her, the new lady in town, he darted out from behind the chimney and leaped down to a balcony, beginning his descent towards the alley.

It took a minute, but he managed to safely return to ground level, and hid behind a trash can. He adjusted his ears to see if anyone had seen him, and, to his shock, people were talking and looking in his general direction. He frowned, annoyed at his misfortunate discovery, but was reassured as the people started to renounce their beliefs in his presence. After another few minutes, Flake had finally caught his breath, so he looked back out to see his target, flushed bright red, talking to Drake with a single coin in her hand.

Flake felt sorry for Drake, because he himself could only barely hold back laughter at the sight. Of course, he eventually heard Drake’s roaring laughter, but Flake was honestly surprised at how much he fought to keep from laughing. As Flake adjusted to watch where his target was leaving, he noticed something a few feet away. There was a chestplate, some leggings, and other armor and clothes pieces.

The bounty hunter recognized a few, so he closed in on the objects in a single, low-profile sprint, and slid casually next to the objects. He could tell, just by seeing them up close, that they belonged to Raine, so he decided to wait there instead of pursuing her. After trying to fit on few pieces of armor, he decided that she was quite a few sizes too small and gave up his silly sub-quest. It didn’t take long before he noticed Drake’s head turn slightly and footsteps approach his position.

Flake quickly darted up into the balcony above the trash can, then watched eagerly as Raine walked through the alley. I haven’t practiced ventriloquism yet this month, maybe now’s my chance Flake thought, watching her slowly draw her dagger. Drake turned his attention forward, but he started standing up at his tax stand, clearly suspicious. Flake adjusted into a prone position on the balcony, watching Raine with a heavily squinted eye from between the posts in the railing, and listened as she spoke.

“I don’t know who you are but you better make yourself visible in the next ten seconds or we’re going to have a problem here,” Raine said, her voice laced with guile and venom. Flake tossed a tiny pebble towards a far trash can, then adjusted his voice forwards and towards the wall(to make it sound like it was coming from the shopping district) as he said, “I thought I gave you a warning, miss,” matching Drake’s voice as best he could. He couldn’t get the same muffled sound the visor made, but the walls echoed the sound enough to disguise this fact.

Drake heard his voice and, in confusion, quickly turned around. He then saw the lady with her dagger out and quickly began to march towards her. The clanking of heavy metal on the cobbled ground was loud enough to disguise the remaining echo from Flake’s ventriloquism. Whoever’s doing that is getting a massive beating, Drake thought. He slowly walked towards the lady, searching for the ventriloquist as he moved.

Flake then moved towards the other side of the balcony and cupped his hand over his mouth, adjusting his voice away from the wall and downwards slightly(so it would appear to come from the back wall) and, in a crackly and menacing voice, he declared, “Ya’ should’ve listened, cuz’ now yer’ ours, missy.” He then voiced a cruel laugh in the same direction, and went silent, turning back to his first position to watch Raine. Needs some work, but this area is perfect, he thought, watching the people react.

A loose rock from Flake’s descent from the roof found its way loose from a higher balcony above, and then began to fall. It reached the ground rather quickly, slamming into a piece of metal, resulting in a footstep-like sound. Flake couldn’t have planned it better. He watched with anticipation as his drunk guard friend and his renegade assassin friend scanned the place, a wide smile covering his face.

Just My Luck[Icicle and HiddenBeauty13

Drake got back to his stand without any further interruptions, then continued his dreary task of reading the tax list. “Mrs. Zeneeda, a hundred sheckles,” he growled, barely retaining his posture. “I-I-I o-only have f-fifty f-f-five…” Drake slammed his gauntlet on the table and shouted, “Then get a job!” After recognizing his actions, he quickly added, “and pay me fifty for now. I’ll add sixty to next time, be sure you can pay.” The lady in front of the stand quickly pulled five coins from her purse and dropped it onto Drake’s stand, running away quickly, tears in her eyes.

“It’s a wonder how people can’t find jobs in this city,” he mused to himself, helping the next citizen in line. After a few more people, a strange-looking lady approached. She was very young, and he did not recognize her at all. “Hi,” she said, her voice and smile clearly forced, “Nice day we’re having here, huh?” Drake grinned under his visor and retorted, “What’s your business here, and what is your name?”

A few people from further back in the line began to watch intently, some annoyed at the hold-up, some generally amused. The shouts of the Harold next to the stand were rather loud, but the sound of the crowd and the other merchants drowned it out. Drake watched, intrigued, as the lady in front of him reached into what seemed to be her skirt. He decided to keep silent for a second, instead of questioning the nature of her actions. There was a slight separation down the midsection of her garment for a second, but she swiftly ended the awkward moment by revealing the fruit of her labor.

The lady held out a single coin to the guard, who was barely suppressing laughter, and a heavy blush spread across her face. After a second, Drake finally burst out into laughter. The sound was muffled under his visor, and it only lasted a few seconds, but it was a warm, hearty laughter which only a burly man could utter. “Lady, I can’t charge you unless your name is on the list,” Drake commented, pushing the lady’s offer back with his palm. “Unless you want to make a donation,” he added, leaning back slightly.

From the back of the line, a man shouted, “Hurry it up Captain!” A few other people quickly shushed the man, but Drake took no notice, staring intently at the lady for her response. At the very least, her expression is priceless, he thought, bemused. Next to the stand, the Harold continued shouting loudly, words such as, “The town will meet its end! The council of sin will adjourn, and all the guards will die! So say the Assassin guild council, the most fearsome of men!” Drake quickly interrupted the people in front of him and shouted at the Harold, “SHUT UP ALREADY! The guards will crush any assassin who oversteps his bounds!” After hearing this, the harold quickly nodded at Drake and changed the subject of his banter.

A man from the crowd, who happened to be looking towards the alleyway, saw what seemed to be a black figure dropping down from the roof, softening his fall by clinging to each balcony and wall-sliding on the way down. The figure landed in a soft roll, then quickly hid behind a trash can. From there, he disappeared from view, watching behind the shadows, waiting for something. A slight murmur started to roll across the crowd as he commented on what he saw. Others started commenting, but it was treated with disbelief and pardoned as “a figment of your tired mind.”

Just My Luck[Icicle and HiddenBeauty13

As Flake looked back, his last words spoken, Raine picked up the pouch of coins and replied, “No, but I do have a request. Call me Misti from now on. My old name is getting old.” Flake nodded after hearing her request, then walked over to the throwing tournament area. A few men started to voice complaints as he walked up, but soon after, he picked up eleven of the knives sprawled across the table and threw all of them at the targets, each knife whistling from the speed of the throw. Nine knives landed in the targets perfectly, sticking out perpendicular to the ground. The tenth knife hit the back of the first knife and wildly ricocheted back at the table.

The rest of the somewhat-sober people in the pub stared in silence for a few seconds as Flake turned and left. “Don’t you want your prize?” one of the contestants asked, a subtle annoyed tone lacing his voice. Flake sharply turned and roared, “My prize is your promise to stop acting like such blithering idiots!” He then pulled out one last knife and, turning his entire body, threw it straight into the banner on the wall which had the rules in it. The knife sank into the wall down to the hilt, however it was a very crooked stab.

“Rule eight!” he shouted, slamming his hand down on a table, snapping the midsection in half from the impact, “if you see me, SHUT THE HELL UP!” With that said, he calmly walked out of the pub, a smirk growing over his face as the room behind him fell eerily silent. The bounty hunter walked silently through the town for the next few minutes, however, his meditation was interrupted by a crowd of people surrounding a man. The man looked to be one of the street-types, and from what Flake could make out through the crowd, he was just waking up.

“I swear, I saw this woman and accidentally bumped into her,” the man started, massaging his swollen face, “and she knocked me clean out! One hit! Boom! Out!” Flake’s ears perked up at the mention, then he picked up his pace slightly, his smirk present once more. “I wonder…” he thought, picturing a signpost in his head.

After a minute, Flake encountered another group of people, but ignored them, continuing onward. It didn’t take long before he arrived at his destination. The bounty hunter calmly entered the inn and walked up to a middle-aged woman behind the front desk. “Did you rent out any rooms to a single woman tonight?” he asked, his voice cold. The woman watched Flake with a suspicious gaze, silent for a few seconds, then responded, “why yes, just a few minutes ago.”

After hearing this, Flake grinned and turned around to leave. I knew it he thought, smirking once more as he stopped in front of the door. “Hey, Milly, is it?” Flake asked, still facing the door. The lady behind the front desk looked at him in confusion once more and responded, “who, me?” The bounty hunter growled, “tell that lady to spend her money wisely. Time’s limited.” With that said, he rushed out of the door and rushed into the alleyway with surprising speed.

The bounty hunter hit the side of the building hard with his boot, then launched off and nimbly grabbed the restraint-bar of a balcony of one of the rooms of the inn on the second floor. After pulling himself up, he repeated the action to jump up another floor, going higher and higher up the building. A few people from the street gathered in the alley to watch the spectacle, some shouting curses at him under suspicion that he was trying to trespass.

After reaching the roof of the building, the bounty hunter walked over to the edge of the roof and hopped off onto the roof of the next building, around twenty feet down. He landed in a tactical roll and got up running, adjusting the sword at his side as he ran. The bounty hunter hopped around the roofs of the town for a good hour after this, running under the light of the rising moon, his face covered in a satisfied grin. Sleep well, Misti Flake thought, hopping off a really high roof, falling straight towards a street-lamp.

The night was long, but eventually, Flake managed to make it to his home, a decrepit shack on the outskirts of town. Few people passed by, and the few who did didn’t find it worth noticing. All the same, Flake called it home. He carved a bit of mold off a piece of bread and cheese, then ate and slept through the night, waking every now and then account nightmares.

By morning, Flake felt more miserable than he had the last night. Despite the weight of his armor, he felt as if he could fly while transversing the rooftops of the city. Of course, after waking up in a full suit of armor, he started to feel as if it was a bit heavier than he remembered. You know you slept well if you wake up feeling worse than you did falling asleep he thought, gritting his teeth as he worked through the pain of getting up. There were still plenty of mending bruises and other such injuries all over his body, but one gets used to the pain after a lifetime of injury.

For a few minutes, Flake massaged his limbs and stretched, trying to warm up his muscles and ready himself for the day ahead. He pulled out another piece of moldy bread and cheese, scraped off what filth he could, and ate gingerly, quickly thinking over the day ahead. Without wasting a second, Flake barged out of his shack with the last bite in his mouth and sprinted through town, desperate to get to the sweeper’s hall before sunrise.

---

Meanwhile, At the shopping district, a bulky man in unnecessarily heavy armor sat at a puny tax-collection stand, his bloody, unpolished armor covering every part of his entire body. The man looked ready for a five-year battle in his get-up, and the massive longsword on his back didn’t change that. The man’s name was Drake, captain of the city guard, and he wasn’t the least bit sober.

A few people passed by to drop off their taxes, leaving Drake with something to do, but he was in an outright fowl mood. Why the hell do I need to sit here? he thought, grimacing beneath his visor, I’m the captain. Might as well be corporal of an army. Time passed slowly as he sat there, waiting for the sun to rise, mortally pissed at the nobility for assigning him to his place. Teach me to be patient, eh? he thought, gritting his teeth, barely restraining himself from smashing the stand with his gauntlet-covered fist.

After awhile, Drake noticed a lady walk around the back of the stand. Suspicious he thought, beginning to turn around. He was stopped as he noticed a piece of foreign metal placed against his backplate. “Don’t say anything and I won’t stab you,” a feminine voice whispered behind him. The man nearly erupted into laughter, but he decided to go along with it for fun. “Just slowly back up into this alley here so I can get this over with,” the voice continued.

Despite the situation, Drake managed to restrain himself and remain silent, going along with the lady’s plan. She ‘shoved’ him against a wall and pointed the puny dagger at his neck, declaring, “tell me what you know about Rinjuko.” Drake finally lost it and started chuckling, leaning forward towards the assassin. “Or what, you gonna poke me with your needle? I hate to break it to you, but only one weapon has pierced this armor before.” The guard then laughed as he started walking back towards his information stand, ignoring the lady.

As he walked, he said, “I’ll let you off with a warning this time. Do it again and you’ll be staring at iron bars for the next year.” With that said, he gradually calmed down, listening to see if the lady would heed his warning.

Just My Luck[Icicle and HiddenBeauty13

“Ya know,” the assassin started, smirking at the bounty hunter as she spoke, “I’ll end up bald if you keep throwing these knives at me, Flake.” And whose fault do you think that’d be, huh miss imperceptive? Flake grinned at the thought, then watched as Raine threw the spontaneous knife back at the classless tourney-goers from whom it originated. He watched as the blade-end sank into the wall a foot away from where a man was leaning against a wall. It was a fairly good throw, from that range, but the angle wasn’t quite perfect.

Raine didn’t take long to add, “Well, you told me to come and find you once I was ready to take back what’s mine, so I came.” She then shrugged and felt along her neck as Flake’s smug grin grew wider. Unconscious gestures of crotchety Flake thought, watching as the assassin preemptively inhaled. “Tough I could be asking you the same thing. Why are you here? I would’ve expected to see you in a more,” Raine leaned forward onto the table with her elbws, smirking again, “Civilized area.”

Flake dropped his smug grin and his expression became completely serious as he paused for a few seconds. He then mused, “you thought I’d be in a more civilized area?” After another second of staring at her, he burst into a mad fit of laughter, violently falling onto the floor in the aisle as he desperately gasped for breath. The sound coming from his chest was louder than the murmur of the crowd, and the tone was oddly condescending. Thirty seconds passed, then he instantaneously shot up, completely serious, and sat back down, his posture ramrod-straight. “I hadn’t thought that you’d picture me as a civilized man,” he retorted. He squinted at Raine as he began speaking, then adopted a gentle smile.

“Now, let me enlighten you,” Flake said, unphased by the confusion and annoying laughter of the other members of the pub as they watched his spectacle end, “I wished to be in a place where neither the guards nor the assassins bother watching. There are only three such places in this city.” The crowd slowly returned to its normal cycle of drunks shouting and thieves getting beat up as he spoke, however his expression only got more and more serious.

“I am called Flake, as you know, however that is not my real name. You need a new name. Also, there is a herald with information about your uncle at west central square next to the info broker’s stand. Do with that as you wish, and at noon tomorrow, meet me at the sweeper’s hall with some new armor.” Once he finished speaking, he tossed his guest the purse she tried to steal earlier and got up from the booth. “any questions?” he asked, looking back at her with a cold expression.

Just My Luck[Icicle and HiddenBeauty13

(OOC: (This is a continuation of the murdered role play from the previous incarnation of our beloved website. Tears and cheers, let's continue.)IC: )

Flake calmly reclined against the wall as the bustling pub erupted with noise once more. His eyes were starting to numb, the nice pain getting dull. His mind was bustling with images of prediction and recollection. The minutes seemed to shoot on by as if he had just finished a long run and decided to play a game of cards with Dane. More memories flew on by, his attention falling further away from his ears.

Near the entrance, he heard the crusty door slam open, followed by the thunk of a few knives sinking into the wall. Cut the crap he thought, throwing knives at people is an offer for war. Sure enough, before he had time to complete his next inhalation cycle, the familiar sound of a pickpocket’s comedic act came to ear. Flake’s ears picked up a familiar voice for a moment, but it faded before he could make out who it was.

It didn’t take long for the bounty hunter to notice that the floor was warping linearly in his direction, but without any sound. Many humans thought that sight and sound were the only means for detection, however Flake knew better. His boot rested on a loose floorboard which shifted when weight was shifted along the aisle. As a result, Flake could tell that someone sneaky was approaching. He had his thoughts as to who it was, but he did not reveal any sign that he had detected his sneaky friend.

The bounty hunter appeared asleep, his arms sprawled across the wall, resting on various surfaces, his head leaned against the backrest of the booth. His chest rose and fell with each breath, and his eyes were still. As the sneak grew closer, Flake shifted his wrist slightly in preparation to draw a blade. He doubted he’d need to use it once he spooked off the amateur, but better safe than sorry.

The shifting in weight got close enough to the point where he could lift his leg and catch the trespasser between the legs, but nothing seemed to happen. Flake could barely perceive the sound of his money pouch hovering off the table as a coin shifted and clinked against another. He continued waiting in order to see if the thief would step back, but he or she didn’t. The thief’s weight shifted into the seat at the opposite side of the booth.

At the moment the weight was gone, Flake pictured possible locations for the thief’s head and neck, one leaning forward, one right against the backrest, a few to either side certain degrees. He waited a second, and his patience paid off, because he heard the soft grinding sound of hair against wood as the thief rested his or her head against the backrest.

At this moment, with one fluid motion, Flake pulled the knife out of his sleeve, positioned it in his hand, and flung it straight at the backrest beside the point where the sound was emitted. As his hand was still moving, the bounty hunter opened his eyes, and leaned toward the thief, snatching his money pouch out of the thief’s lingering hand. The knife landed point-first in the wooden backrest, the dull edge facing away from the thief’s head. As the instant passed, Flake had a revelation.

“Ahh,” he grumbled, a smug grin edging across his face, “so you decided to return after all. Typical of a person with a vendetta.” The bounty hunter then rested his right boot on the seat beside his company’s left thigh, facing her as he continued, “what’s your business in a filthy hovel such as this, Raine?” The moment he finished his question, a knife flew from the other end of the room and slammed against the wall, clattering onto the table. Flake continued staring at his company, unflinching, as his smug grin narrowed, clearly annoyed at the sudden emphasis on his negative description of their location.