[Closed] Knives in the Dark

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Anaxas' main trade port; it is also the nation's criminal headquarters, home to the Bad Brothers and Silas Hawke, King of the Underworld. The small town of Plugit is nearby.

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Joel Archer
Posts: 5
Joined: Mon Dec 06, 2021 1:52 pm
Topics: 2
Race: Human
Occupation: Stable Hand
Location: Old Rose Harbor
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Writer: Shaido
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Wed Dec 15, 2021 11:38 am

It was late in the evening. Joel had done his chores at the stable and he was out walking. He did not often indulge in alcohol but sometimes there were times when he wanted to unwind and let go of everything. To relax. And it was one of those nights when he was able to go out. He had a rare day off tomorrow, someone else had been tasked to take care of the chores at the stable and even though he loved horses, it was also hard work and Joel was secretly pleased for this opportunity to relax a little.

He was on his way into a liquor store to get the cheapest bottle of liquor, but when a sudden cry of help sounded from the nearby alleyway, Joel’s plans changed immediately. Or at least, his plan was about to get delayed. For he simply could not walk away when someone was in trouble.

And someone, indeed, seemed to be in trouble. He could see it when he crouched and peeked around the corner to see what was happening. Someone was about to get robbed, it seemed. A tall man was cornering someone shorter against a wall, demanding money from him. The tall man seemed to be a human, but he could not quite see the other man clearly from his position. But to him it did not matter if the victim was of a different race. What mattered to him was the violence that was happening. And that needed to be stopped.

Eyes on the back of the tall, muscled man, Joel took out one of his knives. Slowly, yet steadily, he crept towards the men and in one swift motion he was targeting the mugger’s groin, pressing his knife lightly against the fabric of the man’s ragged trousers.
“One wrong move and I’ll cut off your balls,” he spoke in a low, threatening voice. “Back off, slowly.” He pressed the knife further against the man’s groin and the man took a step back, though he could see the stormy eyes now lingering on him like the man wanted to fight him. And perhaps he would. Joel was prepared for it. In fact, given the crazy look on the man’s eyes, he was almost certain that he wouldn’t get away completely unharmed.

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Leander
Posts: 122
Joined: Sat Jul 07, 2018 1:21 pm
Topics: 16
Race: Passive
Location: Old Rose Harbour
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Plot Notes: Plot Notes
Writer: Dizzy
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Sat Dec 18, 2021 1:15 pm

19th Day of Roalis 2720
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Stumbling out of the tavern was Leander’s usual style nowadays. Not much had changed over the past couple of months, except that he had fallen deeper and deeper into the bottle with each day that passed. He was now barely functioning at his work. And either Resha or Silas Hawke were going to throw an intervention at him soon. Not that he cared. What were they going to do to him? There was nothing that they could do that he had not already done to himself. And it was highly unlikely that even Hawke would have him killed for some minute transgression such as not pulling his weight. But even if he did die… did it really matter?

The problem was that Leander was struggling to find value in his life. He was growing older with each passing day, and he was still in the shithole he was dropped off in around ten years ago. He was no further forward. The passive was nothing, he was not achieving the greatness his father and mother always promised he would achieve. He was, quite literally, worthless.

So he turned harder towards alcohol and gambling and women… or men. Whatever took his fancy. Anything that involved risk, Leo was there at the front of the queue offering himself up, just to feel something, anything.

And he was in debt yet again. Tonight he had ben thrown out of the tavern not for being too drunk - no this was nothing - no, he was thrown out because he couldn’t pay his tab. Ridiculous. He has promised to pay soon, he would find the money, he alway did, but it wasn’t enough for the barkeep who knew Leander only too well. So back on the streets he was thrown, and he stood still, gripping the outer wall of the tavern as he tried to stop the world from spinning around him. It took a good two minutes, but he finally felt attached to the ground enough to move one foot, and then the other, and he trudged down the darkened road to find the next pub, where he would try to get more free alcohol.

But he didn’t get far before he felt a hand roughly slam down on his shoulder and twist him around. The world lurched and Leander almost lost his footing, and next thing he knew he was slammed against the wall, the breath being forced from his lungs at the force of his back hitting the wall. He cried out, more in alarm and shock rather than pain. “Your money, now, boy,” came the gruff voice.

Leo blinked once, then twice. “I have none,” he slurred truthfully as he raise his hands as if that would prove it. He didn’t have a single coin on him - the last he owned had been gambled away two days ago. “By all means, frisk me. Gimme a bit of pleasure tonight, because I don’t even have the money to pay for a whore so you’ll do.

The man stared at Leo, processing what he had said, and even in his inebriated state, Leander understood that this man wasn’t the sharpest nib in the drawer. It took a few moments, and Leo waited patiently for the words to find through way from the man’s ears to his brain. When the finally reached there, Leo watched the proverbial penny drop and the man’s eyes darken. Despite himself, the passive smiles lazily. “Don’t hurt yourself, big man.” And the man slammed his fist against the wall, next to Leo’s head. Leander turned to look at the fist, then back to the man, but said no more. “I want-” but the man was cut off by another man, who had just appeared from behind him. Leo marvelled at being so drunk that he hadn’t even realised this new man had approached.

The lazy smile returned when he realised he was being rescued, and his attacker released Leo to turn and face this new arrival. Leo’s knees gave way, not out of fear, but out of inebriation - his attacker had been holding him up while the alcohol continued to coarse through his bloodstream, affecting his faculties and control over his own body. “Go get ‘em…”Leander muttered as he vomited over the attacker’s shins and feet.

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Joel Archer
Posts: 5
Joined: Mon Dec 06, 2021 1:52 pm
Topics: 2
Race: Human
Occupation: Stable Hand
Location: Old Rose Harbor
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Writer: Shaido
Writer Profile: Writer Profile
Contact:

Sat Dec 18, 2021 3:01 pm

He could hear it when the vomiting started. And so could the brute who had been trying to rob the other man. And the brute could feel it, too, the wetness that now puddled around and on his feet. Joel took a step back as well when the taller man yelled his “Oi!” in disgust and practically danced out of the way, lifting his soaked feet up and down and then trying to wipe his feet to the ground in a way that made Joel think this man to be actually quite squeamish.

Joel glanced at the vomiting man, but only for a second, as his attention was soon drawn to the muscled man who was now furiously glaring at both him and his victim. And then the man’s shoulders sagged like he had simply given up on everything. The man looked up into the sky.
“I’m so out of here,” came from the man’s mouth and then he turned and was gone, his heavy boots leaving a trail of vomit behind.

Joel watched as the man walked away, hardly believing his eyes. He had been fully prepared for a downright fight and bloodshed, so now he considered himself lucky that the man had opted to walk away. And he was also lucky none of the vomit had landed on his feet. He turned towards the man who had been the target and silently looked at him. The man seemed rather drunk, something that he was planning to be tonight as well, though he did not want to get drunk enough to actually vomit on people’s feet.

“You… want to get another drink?” he asked, though that was not what he had meant to ask at all. He had meant to ask if the man was okay, but apparently his own brain was too keen to get into the drinking part. Perhaps he could share his bottle with this man, he thought to himself. He just needed to get that bottle first.
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Leander
Posts: 122
Joined: Sat Jul 07, 2018 1:21 pm
Topics: 16
Race: Passive
Location: Old Rose Harbour
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Plot Notes: Plot Notes
Writer: Dizzy
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Contact:

Sat Dec 18, 2021 3:23 pm

19th Day of Roalis 2720
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More vomiting. His body clearly wasn’t done with purging his stomach of whatever he had eaten and drunk that night. This time it didn’t land on his attacker, but the wall behind him… and on his own hands. Leander glared at his hands, as if it was their fault for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He barely even paid attention to the assailant and his rescuer as the attacker spoke. They word just didn’t register over the sound of his own retching.

Wha’?” Leander uttered, still glaring at his hands, as he heard the second voice, the voice of the man who had come to save him, now coming from much closer than it had been a few seconds ago. The passive wiped his hands along the stone wall of the building, trying to clean some of the vomit off of them, before deciding it was pointless and wiping his hands on his jacket. Then he paused - what the fuck was he doing?

Grumbling to himself, he removed the soiled jacket and threw it into his pile of vomit. He could collect it tomorrow when he woke up, if he remembered that he left it… and why he left it. Or he would just have to find himself another one. Whatever, it was a problem for another day. “A drink you say?” Leander was never one to turn down a drink. His stomach was mostly empty now, and he pushed himself to stand up on unsteady feet. Standing still for a moment, he internally scanned his body - everything seemed fine.

Why not? Yes, a drink sounds good. Any maybe some food.” He turned back to guide himself along the wall back into the tavern he had just left. But then he remembered why he had left it… or been thrown out more like. “Uh… not here. Let’s try…” he scrambled to decide where to go, and settled on one of his favourite haunts. They wouldn’t mind if he had no money to pay.

Le’s go this a way. There’s a good place jus’ round… round this way. They do good food. Good fish. And good drink. Yes, a drink. Sounds good.” His words were slurred and much looser than the refined way Leander normally spoke. He, as a general rule, spoke very eloquently, more like a golly than anything else, it was the one thing that gave him away as a passive, if the lack of a magical field wasn’t enough of a clue.

Leo staggered - that was the best way to describe his gait - down the cobbled street in search of this other pub, assuming that his rescuer was following him. He hoped the man didn’t expect a reward. He had no money to pay for his meals, let alone give as a reward to someone. But he didn’t say this. Maybe he could get away with two free meals - one for himself, and one for his new random friend.

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User avatar
Joel Archer
Posts: 5
Joined: Mon Dec 06, 2021 1:52 pm
Topics: 2
Race: Human
Occupation: Stable Hand
Location: Old Rose Harbor
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Writer: Shaido
Writer Profile: Writer Profile
Contact:

Sat Dec 18, 2021 3:53 pm

It was not his problem. The fate of the jacket that was tossed into the puddle of vomit. It was not, even though he was tempted to pick up the poor piece of good clothing and he thought it to be a waste to leave it behind. However, despite getting his hands dirty often enough with his line of work, he was not too keen to help the poor jacket out of its predicament, considering it was now dirty with its owner’s vomit. However, there was a concerned yet peaceful expression on his face as his eyes travelled to the owner of the poor piece of clothing.

Joel nodded to confirm that yes, he had suggested a drink, though he was not altogether sure if the man was paying any attention to his gestures. He remained silent and started to follow the man, only to halt when his drunken companion decided to change direction. He only raised his eyebrows slightly, wondering if he would have to become this man’s guide for the night as well.

But it did seem like the man had a certain destination in his mind. That seemed promising, at least. And he could very well get his drink from whatever pub this man was now leading him to. And he wouldn’t say no to some food, either, though for that he was not planning to pay. He got enough to eat from his boss. He got food three times a day which was more than he had expected when he had first started to work for the Bad Brothers. And that was part of the reason why he had been working for his boss for a solid 5 years already.

Joel kept a careful eye on the man as he walked a few steps behind him. He couldn’t help but be a bit worried, considering how drunk the other man was. Now that he was suddenly accompanying him, he did not want to leave the man alone in his drunken state. He just knew he would feel guilty later and worry for the man’s safety. So here he was now, following a stranger towards some unknown place that apparently had good fish.
“Where are we going, exactly?” he asked, deciding that the unknown part of it all was ominous enough already to him.
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Leander
Posts: 122
Joined: Sat Jul 07, 2018 1:21 pm
Topics: 16
Race: Passive
Location: Old Rose Harbour
Character Sheet: Character Sheet
Plot Notes: Plot Notes
Writer: Dizzy
Post Templates: Post Templates
Contact:

Sat Dec 18, 2021 4:15 pm

19th Day of Roalis 2720
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"We’re.. we’re going… this way,” Leander replied thickly, as if it were obvious where he was heading. He stumbled right, down another cobbled street (damn to this lowest pits of hell all of the fecking cobbles around here, they were not the easiest thing to walk on in his state). “Here, look. We’re here. We’re going in here…” he turned to look at his companion, though in the dark and with his vision slightly impaired by the alcohol, he couldn’t really see the other man’s face. “…right?” It came out as a question, for a moment unsure as to whether he had guided them here, or been guided here.

How did they get here? Were they going in?

It was cool outside and the door was open, with the sweet scent of bodies mingling and good food being placed on tables. Yes, they were going in. “This is the place,” he said, with more conviction this time. And he breathed in the smells wafting out before grabbing onto the door frame and stepping over the entrance and making his way in a beeline straight to the bar. He didn’t even look at his companion as he ordered to portions of fish (their fish was the best in the Harbour), and two flagons of ale. Now that his stomach was purged of all previous alcohols, his faculties were returning and he felt ready to drink some more.

Once ordered, he turned without bothering to pay (which he couldn’t) and searched around the area for a free table. There were none, but the end of one of the tables was vacant, with two seats sitting opposite each other. Leander approached, “Do you mind if we sit?” He asked to the people already occupying the table, but he didn’t wait for a response as he pulled out the chair and took a seat, indicating for his new friend to do the same thing.

It was as the other man sat that Leo looked at him properly for the first time. He recognised him. Joel, the Bad Brothers’ horse man. Or stable boy.. or whatever. He worked for Hawke as well, that was the point. For the last few years, longer than Leo had been at least, who had only been working for Hawke for the past year or two. Joel was an old hand at the game, and Leo had seen him walking or riding the horsed through Ol’ Rose a couple of times. He had watched the other man from his window above the Attic.

You’re Joel,” Leander blurted before he could catch himself. The passive frowned, more at himself than anything else. Clearly he was still a little drunk, if he hadn’t control over his speech yet. Ah well. “I know you. I mean, I’ve seen you, and heard of you.” He’d seen and heard quite a lot about Joel, asking around about the pretty man who tended the horses. He liked the way Joel looked. There, he said it (to himself). He liked the way he looked, yes.

The food arrived, swiftly followed by the two flagons of ale. Leaner ignored the food in favour of raising his drink ready to clink against Joel’s if he would join in. “To… the Bad Brothers, I suppose. May Hawke’s reign be long and prosperous.

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