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Post by Amri Dukhkin' on Jun 27, 2012 1:04:52 GMT -5
Amri waited on the side of the road, smirk plastered on his face as he saw a figure riding into his view. Sources told him it was Lord Charles Deucamp, a prissy and wealthy man with a beautiful daughter his client wanted to marry. And, like smart people tended to do, they wanted the best, and when one looked for the best when it came to kill people, the person they found was Amri. These were quiet deals in back alleys, and Amri had learned before to get paid up front so his gold was jingling on his side. Clients didn't have to worry, he always got the job done, he liked it.
With another of his trademark smirks, he stepped onto the road while the man pulled his horse to a stop to barely miss running into him. The man's mouth opened as if he was going to scold him, but just sat there dangling when he took a closer look at the size of Amri's sword resting on his shoulder. And then it came, that wonderful moment when their eyes widened and they tried to back up, but it was already too late. With a yell, Amri leaped to the side of the horse, grabbed the man's leg, pulled him down, and then took a hold of the hair on top of the man's head while he separated it from his body. The rest of him fell down while Amri stood there with a head in his hand as he laughed.
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Post by Muriel Black on Jun 27, 2012 22:30:31 GMT -5
----------"A job well done near half done," Muriel said smoothly to herself as she made her way up the road on her white thoroughbred. She smiled to herself in that self-pleased and heartless way which felt both cold and warm. The smile vanished when her horse started rearing his head and making the sounds of sensing danger. "Now now, Bán Réalta," she smoothed his neck and whispered gently to him until he calmed. In one smooth motion she slipped off his back and straightened out the folds of her riding skirt.
----------"Now what was all the fuss about-" Taking a few steps further to see around the bend she stopped short. Her pale green eyes widened in shock which then formed into anger. Not even bothering to put on a mask for a fellow murderer, she stormed up to the man holding the head of her prize. "What in the name of all that is holy do you think you are doing?" She demanded, dramatically gesturing at the head and body. "Do you have any idea how long it took me to get him to trust me? Five months! Five blessed months of my ever wasting away life! And you, you assassin," she nearly spit the word out, "had to come over and chop off his noble head before I could so much as get a half-pence out of his fortune!" She stopped, breathing heavily, her face furious, her rant come to a temporary end.
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Post by Amri Dukhkin' on Jun 27, 2012 22:48:26 GMT -5
Amri listened, amused, when the woman rode up to him and started complaining that he had taken her prize. He had to say it tickled him to see a woman who wasn't disgusted by the sight of him holding up a head and was in fact complaining that it wasn't her doing it. A smirkish smile slid across his face, “Well that's silly, I barely knew his name and I was able to kill him easily.” Of course he got why one would go to such an effort, some people liked to play with their food before they ate it, but the danger in that was someone might snatch it away while you were batting at it and leave you starving.
But Amri was a generous creature, and he could tell that she was upset, so he held the head out like it was some delicious pastry, “Want it? You can take the horse too.” Although he was sure his sister would be glad to take the horse into their custody, it seemed only polite to offer it to this woman, but that was as far as he was willing to go. He had earned the gold in the pouch at his side and he wasn't going to relinquish no matter how much of a hissy fit she had. He supposed he didn't really need it since he was perfectly capable of intimidating his way into getting things, but the thought of just handing it away to a stranger disgusted him.
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Post by Muriel Black on Jun 27, 2012 23:39:03 GMT -5
----------Muriel held up her hands in rejection of the offer. "Like a head will do me any good. In any case blood isn't my style." She crossed her arms in resignment, grumbling. "At this rate the whole fortune will go to his daughter and that suitor of hers. Husband soon no doubt. With him out of the way the won't wait too long to grab a preacher." She turned to face the assassin again. "Earl Greymond Duval, he had enough gold, land, and connections to practically start his own little kingdom. Lord knows why he was only an earl!" She returned to glaring. "My most wealthy and influential client yet and I was this close!" She held up her fingers for emphasis, "This close to getting at least half of that for myself." Crossing her arms, she leaned against a tree, almost pouting, almost glaring. She hated not getting her way. Even more than that she hated almost getting her way and her plans with thwarted.
----------"So," she said, calmed down slightly, "What are you going to do to make it up to me?" She asked, half serious half joking. She knew his type. They weren't the kind for repayments, much like herself in some respects. The my troubles are mine and your troubles are yours resided in the minds of many criminals across the world, partially for self-preservation and partially out of simply self-centeredness. Muriel was no exception and she expected the assassin likewise held true to the school of thought.
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Post by Amri Dukhkin' on Jun 28, 2012 0:09:49 GMT -5
Amri chuckled at her little tantrum, tossing the head to the ground and wiping his hand delicately on his pants. Blood was definitely his style. His favorite was a good head-chopping but really anything would do. His method of deaths ranged from stabbing through the center and shoving under the hooves of a galloping horse. It was called range. “Sorry darling, the horse is all I'm willing to part with, I earned my wage,” he said, jingling the pouch at his side. Most people would realize it was not smart to reveal where your gold was to a person who was obviously capable of killing people, but Amri wasn't the brightest bulb in the crayon box.
“But surely with a face as pretty as that you can move on to the next victim easily,” he said with a trademark smirk of his as he moved closer to her, swinging his blood-strained blade up to rest on his shoulder, seeing as it was too big for any sheathe. He probably shouldn't have been flirting, but as said before, he wasn't smart, and he happened to be the type who enjoyed playing with fire, because it was pretty and made nice snapping noises, and when he was bored he could just throw a bucket of water on it with no harm done. He even decided to go so close as to lean against the tree with one arm, throwing caution to the wind.
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Post by Muriel Black on Jun 28, 2012 19:22:10 GMT -5
----------Muriel eyed the assassin's money pouch with disinterest across her features but allowed its location to be noted in her mind. As he moved closer to her, she would have liked to have said it was new, in fact she would have loved to have called it new as variety in these situations was rarely provided by the other party, but despite its lack of originality she played the part.
----------When he rested his arm on the tree, bloody sword back, with a clearly flirtatious smile, Muriel did not flinch or even show any surprised reaction to his proximity. She looked up to meet his eyes, returning every bit of the attitude he was treating her with. "And with a face as pretty as yours you could be much more than a shady assassin. But never the less here we are." She shrugged slightly at the last statement but never took her eyes off of his. The eyes were the hardest part of the body to train for the art of secrecy, theatrics, and deception. While Muriel herself was an expert, she scarcely met a man who could hide anything from her in their eyes.
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Post by Amri Dukhkin' on Jun 29, 2012 0:06:57 GMT -5
“Well see, from what I can tell, you find joy in deceiving people, whereas I find joy in being feared,” he said with an easy laugh. Amri couldn't find it him to be worried about this woman, even though she'd made it clear she was the type to trick people, but then again, he could at least trust her to not be trustworthy. That was easier for him. He hated the kind of people who helped him out some of the time but not all of the time. Those were the people who lulled you into a fall sense of security that was easy for him to trip into. But dishonest people...they were easy.
“And I wouldn't consider myself shady, I don't lie about who I am.” And with that statement he stopped leaning against the tree and instead performed a sweeping bow, “Amri Dukhkin', at your service,” he said, turning up his charm. He liked the thrill of hunting down a person and feeling the adrenaline rush through his veins as he killed them, but he also enjoyed the thrill of watching a girl fall just a little bit more for him after each word he said. Surely it wouldn't take too long. He could have a little fun and be back in time for supper with a good laugh in his head.
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Post by Muriel Black on Jul 4, 2012 14:17:58 GMT -5
----------Muriel pouted in an overly exaggerated fashion, obviously for dramatic effect, and crossed her arms. "Oh come now, it is merely a means to an end." She looked him over again, profiling him in the back of her mind in one quick glance. If there was every a man who could truly be described as tall, dark, and handsome, it was Amri Dukhkin'. His strikingly blue eyes caught her attention she could not help but think that his good looks had gone to waste on such an occupation.
----------She raised an eyebrow at his gentlemanly introduction. "Muriel Black," she replied, "Though you consider yourself to not be shady, was it? Neither would I concerning myself. Shady is hardly the word I would use to describe anyone who is not completely honest. No. It requires an ambiance of unreliability yet necessity, perhaps even honesty, for every man I ever knew who could truly claim the title of shady was a master of subtle truths."
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Post by Amri Dukhkin' on Jul 5, 2012 2:11:29 GMT -5
Amri couldn't help but scratch his head slightly. Though he wouldn't admit that what she said had gone way over his head...it had. He tended to not think too deeply into things and had simple definitions for things. Of course, he didn't really need to care about people or their motives, he just has to kill them and that was enough. “Awful lot of big words there...” he let slip out. Then again, he wasn't really ashamed for not being a more learned person. Why waste time on learning to read or write or count when that time could be smart getting his muscles tougher?
He just shrugged in response and offered his own interpretation. “Shady people are people who don't give you their real names,” he said simply. He flicked his bangs out of his eyes and spun his sword absentmindedly with one hand, hoping they could move on from talking about different types of people and back to flirting. He wasn't good at philosophy. He was goof at flirting though, really good. Rarely had he ever been refused by a girl, he knew just how to reel them in. He shot a grin at her and said, “You're too lovely to be considered shady.”
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Post by Muriel Black on Jul 11, 2012 15:05:03 GMT -5
----------Muriel rolled her eyes as he returned to his previous statement. As the conversation went on she was beginning to realize why he was only an assassin. Despite his strikingly good looks, his mental capacity was hardly master-criminal quality. As he made a show of, well showing-off, she raised one eyebrow and could not help but let out a bit of a laugh. It was a pity he didn't have any rank or fortune because he was exactly the type she liked to fool. Never the less, the fact stood that he was only an assassin and so she did not bother to even put on an act for him.
----------"Shall I assume that your vocabulary consists of flirtatious compliments and crass insults?" she inquired, almost tauntingly. So far he had yet to surprise her with his words and so she kept at it, trying to draw out something new. Muriel figured that if she could work him past his initial set of pretty-girl-talk he might be forced to think, and she was curious to see what would come out when his mind was in charge of his mouth.
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Post by Amri Dukhkin' on Jul 12, 2012 20:29:01 GMT -5
He grinned. “Not much use for anything else. I've got a few drinking songs up my sleeve though.” Most of his life was spent either flirting or killing, going back and forth between the two, or sometimes doing them at the same time. Though that could get awkward. Most girls didn't find being splattered in blood to be a turn-on, and the ones that did were likely to be vampires and he hated those. He supposed the only thing about him that wasn't related to killing or flirting was his sister, and the way he talked with her, and the way he cared for her, but it was this type of person that he definitely did not want to reveal he had a sister to.
“And your vocabulary? Pretending to be dark and mysterious and deadly?” he said in a joking voice. He knew the type. Girls who thought they could have revenge on the world cause one of their parents died or something, even though in this type of world most people didn't have living parents. Amri only had one, and he couldn't care less about him, and he didn't pretend to kill people for any reason other than the fact that he wanted to. But he didn't know who this girl was, and maybe she was a little more upfront. That would be a nice departure from the norm.
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Post by Muriel Black on Jul 15, 2012 20:00:39 GMT -5
---------Muriel looked up at him with he pale green eyes and laughed quietly. "Deadly? Yes. More deceptive than mysterious and devious than dark." She smirked. "And who's pretending? Is it you or I?" She leaned in to meet his eyes, questioning, challenging.
---------A slight dizziness nagged at the back of he head, not quite effecting her eyes, but coming dauntingly close. For the past day or so the light-handedness plagued her, coming on and off, sometime stronger, sometimes weaker. Inwardly she cursed its timing but her outward appearance was unaffected by her frustration or condition. She was the perfect picture of health and composure, but she knew that she needed to finish this up before to long and go her merry way. The last thing she needed was for her image of self-confidence and strength to be tainted in the presence of one who delighted blood-shed. Weakness was not an option.
A/N: Muriel has Faery Fever but it is still just the earliest stage. However, she is a master of deception and is completely hiding it from him.
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Post by Amri Dukhkin' on Jul 17, 2012 0:10:46 GMT -5
“Well I'm not an actor, and you obviously are, so why don't you tell me who's pretending?” He had to say he was enjoying her. She was the kind of girl he'd buy a drink for. Actually, he was dying to see her do a little fighting, he was turned on by girls who enjoyed taking care of the dirty work. It was a rare thing to find in a girl, and he rarely let them go without giving them a taste of him. He wasn't planning on there being an exception. He was a spoiled guy and he got what he wanted whether that person was willing to admit they wanted him back or not.
“Now I don't think I'm pretending but I can be tricked.” It would be silly if she was trying to trick him though, since she had revealed pretty thoroughly what type of person she was. Then again, as long as she didn't kill him or take his sword, there was really nothing of his which it would break his heart to lose. Hell losing his bag of gold might be worth a time with her, but he wouldn't find that out until he tested that waters.
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Post by Muriel Black on Jul 22, 2012 20:59:19 GMT -5
---------Muriel merely smiled and shrugged in response. "Can't we all if the bait is sweet enough?" She leaned back against the tree, crossing her arms and closing her eyes for a moment, giving the image of slight nonchalantness, hiding the exhaustion slowly coming over her. She need to get rid of him. Though on a normal day a bit of criminal-to-criminal banter was interesting, even fun, today she was not at her best physically and the physical had a way of seeping through in the mental. She licked her lips subtly, tasting the red make-up upon them to remind herself which one she was wearing. Sleeping poison with a slight head-ache afterward. She could kiss him, but then again, despite him being strikingly handsome, it did not seem the best approach. She could fight him but it would be too abrupt and risky...
---------Opening her eyes again she waited a moment for her vision to clear, silently cursing the dizziness. "You owe me a favor, Mr. Dukhkin'." She said, seriously letting only a touch of threat through in her voice, the perfect mixture of warning and challenge with ever so slight a hint of the flirtation which had thus been present in their conversation.
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