WHO: RA'S AL GHUL and LUST
WHERE: The Savolettan city of Deschanelles.
WHEN: To...day.
WARNINGS: MURDER AND MAYHEM. And fire.
SUMMARY: Ra's lets off a little steam with the aid of his good friend. Or good acquaintance. Good bride-to-be.
FORMAT: Paragraph to start.
(
justify my reasons with your blood )
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He turned to Lust. "Don't leave anyone alive," he said, smiling at her. "Their existence is unnatural enough. To offer mercy is to do the world a greater disservice."
Drawing his sword, Ra's pointed toward the faint glimpse of ocean on the horizon. "The wind is traveling from the water. Should the city burn, avoid getting caught in the flames."
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She took his smile as a cue, the corners of her mouth quirking to reveal sharp teeth, and stepped forward with her gaze still on the horizon. His words echoed a little unfortunately in the back of Lust's head--don't get caught in the flames--but making a reaction obvious would only be edging toward self-betrayal. At any rate, it wasn't a desirable impression to make so early.
"I'll try my best, then," she said, her eyes briefly fixing on Ra's' (LOL) face before doubling back to their current target. "Shall we?"
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Fire would be the most efficient solution, but he longed to spill blood himself, feel it coat his hands. He teleported first so that he could light the hills afire, and then replaced himself at Lust's side.
"Apologies," he said, holding up his sword again. "I thought I would start us off."
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"Not at all." Once again she looked in his direction, raising her eyebrows considering as though the idea had only just occurred to her. "In fact... it might be more efficient for us both to arrive like that. If you don't mind, of course."
Her smile widened.
"I'd hate to remove the element of surprise."
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"Where would you like to begin? By the coast, or by the town? They'll be soon fleeing in this direction."
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"Then let's not keep them waiting." She inclined her head slightly. "The town, I think."
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He flexed his body for a moment as if doing Tai Chi, sword drawn out, before he looked at Lust and nodded.
"Shall we?"
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Lust had no sword to bare, but her hands were now distinctly unattached to her hips. A man, 40-something and balding and breathing hard, ran by them. She allowed him to clear a few hundred feet before her fingers caught up with him, closing the gap between her right hand and the insides of his skull, and he dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.
"Let's."
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