An Evening Stroll (FINISHED)
May 28, 2015 13:15:55 GMT -6
Post by Tiz on May 28, 2015 13:15:55 GMT -6
A Sacaean's last thoughts should be of home, he had always been told. Although, with the military having all but stripped him of his home identity, he thought mostly of the time he spent with the man he was about to be slaughtered by. They had been pals-- maybe not the best of friends, but close. They had suffered together. That had to have meant something, right? Tiz thought. He was confused, and above all, at peace with himself as he was about to die. Perhaps this was about Dak's wife...
Then, Tiz heard noises that absolutely confounded him. As he opened his eyes quickly, he saw the beautiful woman he had just met on top of his friend, stabbing him right in his axe arm. Dak dropped his axe, scrambling around the immediate area trying to get the woman off of him, but he was clumsy, frightened, and not in control of his own power. Tiz knew he had to do something, but wasn't sure how to help the woman without hurting her. But it was better to hurt her than let her die if Dak got ahold of her. Instinctively, Tiz grabbed the man's axe and threw it across the street. He wouldn't be able to retrieve it so easily. Tiz would have used it, had he known how, but he was really only good with a sword, and the occasional small knife.
Racing forward, Tiz pinpointed Dak's pressure points across his front, making a series of quick, flurry-like jabs with a half-open palm, finishing his flourish with a sweep kick that landed Dak over on his side, giving his friend a chance to get off of the man without being seriously hurt. This was a technique the two men had been taught in the League. How to disarm and disable an opponent who was armed when you weren't. He couldn't use it any sooner, because the man was too focused-- too hardened, too full of anger. It was strange and confusing... Dak hadn't been wearing military garb. He was in plainclothes, covered by a cloak. This wasn't military business. Perhaps it was about his wife, after all.
Winking at Charlotte as an indication that things were probably okay, Tiz bent down cautiously in front of Dak, who was relatively immobile and grunting with pain. He didn't have his axe, and in a fist fight, Tiz could tire him out. Dak knew that.
"Hey-yo," Tiz said, sort of carelessly. "Dak, what's going on? What is this?"
The man growled at Tiz, refusing to answer his question. He spit in Tiz's face, and Tiz recoiled a bit. He stood up, and using a cloth he carried in his pocket to wipe his face off. "Okay, so you don't want to talk. But I DO want to talk, Dak. It's been years... why are you here? Why are you trying to kill me? Come on, on the night I FINALLY made some new friends, budd--"
Dak was on his feet again, and used his massive arms to quickly and efficiently pin Tiz against the wall of the building they were near. Tiz didn't flinch, though-- he couldn't sense the killing instinct in Dak anymore. Not since he lost his axe. Perhaps he would be spoken to, finally. The man had tears welling in his eyes, but not ones of sadness. He was angry. He was very, very angry. He squeezed Tiz's arms so hard that Tiz thought they might rupture.
"You are a liar, a thief, a murderer, a slanderer, a traitor, and above all, you are scum who must be held responsible for his actions. What you did in Ostia... Tizato, that was unforgivable. I am here to claim your life, so St. Elimine may not have the chance to take you so peacefully. You will suffer by me. You will die by my hand. I will make you pay for what you did."
Tiz stared at him, wide-eyed, and then his eyes sunk to the ground, heavy with grief. "Dak, I..." Tiz couldn't say much more. He was speechless. As he looked at his feet, ready to accept death, Dak let go of him, sped over to the unconscious body, slung it over his shoulder, and grabbed his axe. He pulled the hood back over his cloak and sped off with great haste down the street, towards somewhere unknown.
Sinking down to the ground, leaning against the wall, covered in small cuts that were bleeding more than they should, Tiz looked defeated. He looked up to Charlotte, and his red-haired friend, and wondered what they thought. He might've laughed if his heart weren't so overcome with grief... After all, he hadn't spoken to anyone about Ostia since it had happened.
Then, Tiz heard noises that absolutely confounded him. As he opened his eyes quickly, he saw the beautiful woman he had just met on top of his friend, stabbing him right in his axe arm. Dak dropped his axe, scrambling around the immediate area trying to get the woman off of him, but he was clumsy, frightened, and not in control of his own power. Tiz knew he had to do something, but wasn't sure how to help the woman without hurting her. But it was better to hurt her than let her die if Dak got ahold of her. Instinctively, Tiz grabbed the man's axe and threw it across the street. He wouldn't be able to retrieve it so easily. Tiz would have used it, had he known how, but he was really only good with a sword, and the occasional small knife.
Racing forward, Tiz pinpointed Dak's pressure points across his front, making a series of quick, flurry-like jabs with a half-open palm, finishing his flourish with a sweep kick that landed Dak over on his side, giving his friend a chance to get off of the man without being seriously hurt. This was a technique the two men had been taught in the League. How to disarm and disable an opponent who was armed when you weren't. He couldn't use it any sooner, because the man was too focused-- too hardened, too full of anger. It was strange and confusing... Dak hadn't been wearing military garb. He was in plainclothes, covered by a cloak. This wasn't military business. Perhaps it was about his wife, after all.
Winking at Charlotte as an indication that things were probably okay, Tiz bent down cautiously in front of Dak, who was relatively immobile and grunting with pain. He didn't have his axe, and in a fist fight, Tiz could tire him out. Dak knew that.
"Hey-yo," Tiz said, sort of carelessly. "Dak, what's going on? What is this?"
The man growled at Tiz, refusing to answer his question. He spit in Tiz's face, and Tiz recoiled a bit. He stood up, and using a cloth he carried in his pocket to wipe his face off. "Okay, so you don't want to talk. But I DO want to talk, Dak. It's been years... why are you here? Why are you trying to kill me? Come on, on the night I FINALLY made some new friends, budd--"
Dak was on his feet again, and used his massive arms to quickly and efficiently pin Tiz against the wall of the building they were near. Tiz didn't flinch, though-- he couldn't sense the killing instinct in Dak anymore. Not since he lost his axe. Perhaps he would be spoken to, finally. The man had tears welling in his eyes, but not ones of sadness. He was angry. He was very, very angry. He squeezed Tiz's arms so hard that Tiz thought they might rupture.
"You are a liar, a thief, a murderer, a slanderer, a traitor, and above all, you are scum who must be held responsible for his actions. What you did in Ostia... Tizato, that was unforgivable. I am here to claim your life, so St. Elimine may not have the chance to take you so peacefully. You will suffer by me. You will die by my hand. I will make you pay for what you did."
Tiz stared at him, wide-eyed, and then his eyes sunk to the ground, heavy with grief. "Dak, I..." Tiz couldn't say much more. He was speechless. As he looked at his feet, ready to accept death, Dak let go of him, sped over to the unconscious body, slung it over his shoulder, and grabbed his axe. He pulled the hood back over his cloak and sped off with great haste down the street, towards somewhere unknown.
Sinking down to the ground, leaning against the wall, covered in small cuts that were bleeding more than they should, Tiz looked defeated. He looked up to Charlotte, and his red-haired friend, and wondered what they thought. He might've laughed if his heart weren't so overcome with grief... After all, he hadn't spoken to anyone about Ostia since it had happened.