[OPEN; carnival event]

[todefydestiny]

Who: Eike Kusch, Chief Warden Tamaki, Bellatrix Lestrange, Regulus Black, Sirius Black, Elena, and OPEN.
What: The carnival.
Where: The fountain area.
When: September 15; late afternoon to evening.

Comments

[feverhound]

It had to be fate. A disgustingly cliche word, of course -- fate, serendipity, destiny, and such -- but hey, what else could you call such a perfect coincidence?

Because Namae had just about been ready to take his leave -- maybe go sit on a rooftop somewhere to smoke and take a nap -- when the dog that had been tailing him suddenly bristled, giving a low growl in the direction of the carnival grounds. No doubt distracted by some sort of trinket, Namae thought at first, starting to walk off, until the growling escalated into a low bark. Aah, what was this? Despite how he looked, Dog wasn't easily excited.

And it took only a brief moment for Namae to find what had caught Dog's attention. A little kitty, pawing at the guillotine and -- oh hey, look at that, good old Mr. Spike hanging around just near that. Still leaning against the alleywall, Namae grinned. How pissed would Spike be if he knew that his target was right in clear sight?

It was probably his faint excitement that triggered Dog into breaking out into a hoarse barking fit, one that could be heard easily from the carnival grounds. Namae did nothing to stop it, only watching to see what would happen.

[7livesleft]

Spike kept on looking away when he heard barking. He could guess what was happening, but he really wasn't in the mood for dealing with animals. Whoever thought they'd make good gifts obviously wasn't taking any suggestions from him. It wasn't until he heard them getting closer that he stifled a groan and turned back.

"--Hey!"

A second later the cat bolted straight for him and halted at Spike's feet, then spun around to face off against whatever was threatening him. Like it came all the way over just to protect its master.

Except Spike didn't need the attention. Or a big dog that might chase after him at any moment. "Get out of here," Spike's voice was low and annoyed. He couldn't do anything without drawing more of a crowd. With a deeply frustrated sigh, Spike shot a glance around. The owner must have been close by.

And sure enough, he spotted a familiar figure in the distance, not far from where the dog was throwing a fit. Spike took a long, hard drag of his cigarette before he gave a curt wave in Namae's direction. At least one of them had come out of hiding.

"Would you mind?" He called out, just loud enough for him to hear over the noise. Just a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. "Its giving me a headache."

[feverhound]

"Oh?" Namae had been watching casually, tracking Spike's movements with a leering stare from where he was leaning against the wall, and gave a smile that was almost cheerful save the bared teeth. "Sensitive, aren't we." His words were almost drowned out by the combined barking fit and the cat's hissing, and he made no effort to make himself heard.

He did, however, saunter forward to grab Dog by the scruff of the neck and crouch down to drag the animal in something resembling a one-armed hug. Never taking his eyes off Spike in the process though, except a very short moment where he leaned in to croon audibly into Dog's ear, "Don't worry, that guy's just grumpy. We can go play with something else later. Still got that chewtoy back home, right?"

The barking quieted down into a snarl, then just a low growl, and Namae looked up at Spike from where he was still crouched down. Lips curving into a smirk. "So sorry to disturb. I'd hate to be a bother, y'know?"

Dog licked its lips, and Namae got back to his feet, turning to head back into the alleyway. (Gonna come after me now, Mr. Spike?)

[7livesleft]

Tease.

Spike watched with narrowed eyes as he disappeared into an alley. Namae wasn't a hard guy to figure out. As blatantly antagonistic as he acted, he thought was nice to find someone who so uncomplicated. Spike could even sympathize. If you were stuck in a world where you couldn't even die, what else was there to do but be a huge pain in the ass?

Just as he moved, he shot the cat waiting by his feet a stern look to stay behind. The cat obeyed for about two seconds before it started back up at his heels. It probably thought it was helping him. He sighed into his cigarette and slipped his hands in his pockets as he walked on. Couldn't be helped.

He picked up his pace until he rounded the corner of the conveniently empty alley. The sound from the carnival became muffled and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the shadows. Namae hadn't gone far yet. Was probably taking his time just to see if Spike would take the bait. It was just his lucky day. As soon as he had a clear view, Spike stopped and pulled his gun.

"Namae." Spike's voice was loud enough to echo off the alley walls. "You still haven't answered my question."

[feverhound]

Part of him had even been a little disappointed when he'd been let go without any attempt at confrontation. Ah, well. Looked like Genkaku's location wasn't that important? Behind him, Dog snuffled along the ground, sniffing for blood, and Namae dug a cigarette out of his pocket, rummaging for his lighter -- then paused, at the sound of footsteps drawing near.

Returning the cigarette to his pocket, Namae only watched Spike for a moment, eyebrow raised as he stared into the barrel of the gun. At his side, Dog immediately bristled at the cat, and Namae finally laughed, running his hand through his hair before crooning at Dog, "Heel, Boy. Stay there."

His gait was languid, as if he didn't care about the gun pointed at him, and he stepped forward slowly as he spoke, drawing each word out. "Kill me and then you'll just have to wait for those natives to bring me back. Not very time-effective, yeah?" His lips had curved into a wolfish half-smile (come on, how bad do you want that information?) and he stepped right before Spike. Suddenly lashing out with his hand to grab the gun barrel and press it against his chest, just above his heart. Grinning. "Don't you think you gotta do better than that?"

It was just a challenge, really.

[7livesleft]

He must have been looking forward to this game. Spike smiled back when he came forward, even as he narrowed his eyes. Namae's one hand made a grab for his gun, but he wasn't trying to take it from him. Spike's finger wrapped around the trigger.

"Maybe." Namae really was counting on him being a good guy. Either that or he really didn't care about dying. "Too bad that you're not my only lead. I could always kill you and find him myself."

Spike didn't move yet, just stared back at him. If he was going to shoot, he'd make it count. They weren't that far from the crowds. Close enough for them to hear a gun going off. Not that he was afraid of getting caught, but he'd hate to spoil the party.

It wasn't his only option. Namae had already assumed he was bluffing. Unfortunately, he knew a few things about getting people to talk. And after searching for over a month, Spike's patience was starting to wear on him. "But you're right. It'd be a lot faster if you'd just tell me what I want to know."

[feverhound]

So much talking. So so so much of this dull-shit talking, and for a moment, Namae's eyes flashed with an feral sort of anger. Boredom had been grinding down on his nerves for quite some time now, given the lack of opportunity to get the violent urges out of system, and he'd been looking forward to this confrontation, in a way. Spike was one of the few people he knew he could fight eye-to-eye with, after all. And he'd been hoping that it would be a nice opportunity to let loose, but no -- Spike had to be a nice-guy hesitating to wield any sort of force.

A moment passed in silence, then he snickered, grip tightening on the gun-barrel -- shoulders shaking as he threw his head back and laughed.

Abruptly jerking the gun barrel away from his chest and leaning forward to snarl in Spike's face, teeth bared and features etched with a frustrated hunger. "I don't think you're really that desperate for the information if you're holding back like that. Guess you don't really care about the dumbshit that got his voice ripped out."

Behind him, Dog once more began to growl as he relinquished his grip on the gun, hand instead reaching to his belt to draw his knife. "Is that really all you got, bounty hunter?"

[7livesleft]

He shrugged his shoulders at the taunting, although his expression lost some of its humor as he flicked the tail end of his cigarette away. Spike had known people like Namae before. Back when he was still inside, he was surrounded by them. People who could only get a thrill from pushing the odds. And he wasn't that different back then.

They must not be at the talking stage yet.

In another situation, he might have grappled with him again. Except he wasn't there for fun this time. As Namae released his hold and pulled out a knife, Spike didn't lower his arm. He kept the gun level, aiming low, before letting off two rounds.

The shots reverberated off the enclosed brick. Even if they were heard over the carnival racket, he didn't think anyone would be interrupting them. Seemed that Namae wanted to speed things up, and he didn't have any issue obliging.

[feverhound]

Finally.

The double crack of the gun firing was, in a way, a tiny victory. And Namae's lips curved in a leering grin as felt the familiar rush of adrenaline down his spine. (Yes, yes, yes yes yes why did it take you so long?) The next moment sent a jagged sharp of pain ratcheting down his leg, and he spared a brief glance downward where a splotch of black was slowly spreading across the dark fabric of his slacks. One of the bullets had grazed the side of his calf -- not enough to properly cripple, but more than enough to hurt.

Somewhere from behind him, Dog snarled, bristling at the cat, no doubt hungry for action of its own.

And Namae laughed as he whipped his knife out of its holster with the flourish of cold steel. "That's the spirit!" His voice had sharpened into a hoarse bark as he lunged forward -- slowed slightly by the drag of his injured leg -- aiming a diagonal upward slash across Spike's chest.

nggh /less slow next time;;;; B(

[7livesleft]

Warning shots didn't have much of the desired effect on Namae. Not that he was expecting it to be that easy. Spike didn't miss the way the other's eyes lit up the the bullet hit his leg or that shit eating grin he was wearing. One of those guys, huh? Made it a little harder for Spike to force anything out of him if he was going to enjoy it so much. He'd see how long that lasted.

The dog was growling again, and Spike watched how both of the animals were reacting from the corner of his eye. The last thing he needed was to have them jump in. Distracted, he almost wasn't fast enough to fall back as Namae lunged forward. The blade in his hand was sharp enough to rip into the fabric of his shirt and a thin line of blood trailed after it. "Woah, careful--"

No time for playing around then. Spike made a grab for his arm to yank it forward while he still had momentum to carry him. If he managed to throw him off balance, he'd follow it by pistol whipping the side of his head. Might knock him unconscious if he wasn't careful, but somehow that thought didn't bother him.

hope this is alright :o

[feverhound]

That wasn't so hard now, was it? And any disappointment Namae had been harboring evaporated almost instantly, replaced by the bloodrush thrill of combat. (All he had to live for now.) And sure, he did realize that Spike seemed to be holding back a fraction, but, well -- maybe he could be goaded into dropping that facade in a bit.

The tear of fabric and the faint trace of red made his eyes light up, his wolfish grin widening, and he laughed as he made to draw his arm back. Ah, no, wait -- glance flickering to the hand clamped around his arm, he hissed, then promptly threw his weight forward. But not in the direction Spike had probably intended.

Instead, he aimed to catch Spike in something crudely resembling a tackle, directing the point of his shoulder against Spike's sternum. (Balance was his weak point, he knew, due to his lack of an opposing arm. He wasn't even going to try fighting against a throwing move.) And using the moment as a distraction, he wrenched his arm free from Spike's grip, shifting his hold on the knife to attempt a downward stab into Spike's arm.

yep! c:

[7livesleft]

With the way he grappled with him, it was a lot like fighting a rabid dog; Spike might have been laughing at the analogy if he were in a better mood. Namae would probably take that as a compliment.

The impact of his shoulder hitting his chest knocked him back a few steps. Even with one arm, the guy was quick to cover his openings and he couldn't get another blow in. Spike saw the flash of blade a second later and shoved his weight back before it could hit anything vital. Still got a nice scratch against his forearm from it, and he shot him a cold smile. Maybe he was playing with him too much.

On the other hand, if all he wanted was a good street fight there was no reason why they couldn't both get what they wanted. He held back his gun, instead closing the space again with a low kick aimed at the shin and another towards his face. Anything to get some distance between them so he could have a clean shot. Not yet, but he kept it ready as a promise to finish what he started.

[feverhound]

Aaah, yes, this was what he was hoping for. The blood was singing in his ears, the flourish of adrenaline in his veins easily overriding the numbness that was starting to creep across his leg, ignoring the blood that was steadily seeping through the fabric of his slacks.

Because all Namae saw, really, was the bright burst of red when the knife blade tore through Spike's sleeve. Close. Close close close just a little more -- ah. The next moment found him stumbling back, unbalanced by the first kick -- and he barely managed to raise his arm to parry the second kick. He was just fast enough to keep it from breaking his nose, but the sole of Spike's shoe grazed past his arm and jaw, scraping off skin and bruising down deep.

Staggering back, he laughed, shaking his head to ward off the faint dizziness and licking away a trickle of blood. "Yeah -- yeah, like that. Guess you do want that info. Kinda." The words were mumbled almost to himself, half-drowsy, before he abruptly lunged forward once more, launching himself at Spike with his knife aimed at the unprotected side.

[7livesleft]

Spike could hear the cat howling now as he watched Namae stagger back. He blocked it out as much as he could before he could decide to turn around and shoot it. Part of him was hoping that mutt took it out, but he knew it was wishful thinking. So far nothing he'd tried got rid of it. Namae didn't seem to care about the noise; judging by his tenacity even with the amount of blood seeping out his leg, he didn't have much else on his mind.

"That's right," Spike answered simply as the other charged forward again. "How long are you going to hold on me?" Namae was slowing down, it wasn't as hard to get out of the path of the knife, even if Spike dropped his gun in the process. He didn't make grab for it. Just moved to the side, bringing up his elbow as he did in an effort to catch him in the jaw.

[feverhound]

During this entire fight, Dog had only been watching from the sidelines with teeth bared, frame squared and tensed -- and it was only when the elbow-strike hit home that it finally snarled at Spike and the hissing cat, adding to the noise pollution. But blocking out all that mayhem didn't take much effort at all, and despite the pain shooting up his skull, the obvious copper taste of blood in his mouth, Namae still instinctively lashed out with a sharp upwards kick aimed at Spike's nose.

His head was starting to hurt as the whiplash from being hit in the head sunk in, but he only laughed, shifting his grip on the knife and giving it a wide slash to put some distance between them. Asking, wryly, as he twirled the blade across his fingers, "Why haven't you just shot me already? I'm curious."

[7livesleft]

Spike might have counted him out too soon. The cat was still screeching at him when he saw a flash of red behind his eyes. The impact sent him back a few steps, and when he inhaled sharply he could feel his blood swelling. Good reflexes.

"You don't know?" Spike caught Namae's expression as he rubbed some dirt off of his face with the back of his hand and brought his stance back up. Funny how much that reminded him.

It was true that if shot him, it would save him a lot of trouble. Part of him was still hoping he wouldn't have to. Even if no one was there to see it, he knre better than to take all the credit. The other half of it may have had something to do with pride, but he never liked to call it that. "Where's the fun in that?"