Chapter II ⚔ The Hunt || Backdated to Saturday
[Action ; Around town]
[Her makeshift sword already spilled blood on Friday, the first day. A boy probably not older than her named Hilbert - she recalls him being called for on the phone, but being a simple mercenary drafted to kill, she saw no point to answer any of the calls. Someone seems to have finally found out, anyway - she did have the ( Read more... )
[Her makeshift sword already spilled blood on Friday, the first day. A boy probably not older than her named Hilbert - she recalls him being called for on the phone, but being a simple mercenary drafted to kill, she saw no point to answer any of the calls. Someone seems to have finally found out, anyway - she did have the ( Read more... )
Some part of even attempting to elude the other man is selfish - fellow mystic or not, Silence is an IRPO agent, and they do generally frown upon murder. Another part of it is privacy, though. The freedom that comes from being able to do what you will, knowing you're alone with your victim... it makes it much easier to analyze the effects of one's actions.
Regardless, it'll take some time for him to find Marisa - he knows what she looks like, but calling around would be like sending a calling-card - and equipped with little more than a myriad of syringes and scalpels, he can't afford that, especially not knowing if she's made her first kill yet. In fact, he's actually surprised to find her prowling the streets, armed... but a smile twitches at his lips ( ... )
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She's as young as she looked on the picture... and as adept as he could have hoped for. He looks almost nonthreatening, too slender to be well-muscled, too pale to have spent a lot of time training out in the sun.
Though he says nothing, the scalpel in his hand, catching the light as he walks, speaks his intentions just fine. It also tells her that his options are limited - barring throwing the blade, he'll have to draw quite near to fight effectively.]
Observant. I suppose, then, that this should be quite a match. [The first words that spill from his lips are uttered in a deep tone, laced with the slightest curiosity and ill-bridled excitement. The first decision is up to her, then. Offense or defense?]
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The amethyst irises don't seem to see him. Ah, she doesn't care about what he's expecting or what he wants. His words were the final confirmation she needed to know that this man is here to kill her, so of course talking to him is unnecessary. There's nothing to say to someone who's trying to be your killer.
She doesn't hesitate. Her left arm is her dominant arm, the one that held her sword. With nothing in her eyes, she rushes forward to get into striking range, and if he lets her get that far, he has to defend against a diagonal slash aimed for the arm that carried the scalpel. All that she can hope for now is that this man gives more resistance than the boy she killed yesterday, but his stance itself has already been enough to give her a hint of his experience.
Win or lose, maybe she'll be able to learn something from this. And if that's the case, then it's good
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It's been some time since he last did battle with anything, but he's quick on his feet. The slash catches somewhat shallowly in his shoulder as he slides - their dominant arms are opposing, a fact that gives him just enough extra time to dodge complete removal of the limb, pushing forward instead of pulling back. It's more than deep enough to draw plenty of blood, though, seeping into the pristine white fabric.
The exchange begun, his wrist flicks, twisting upward and, with any luck, into her forearm. There's little power behind it, what with the wound on his shoulder, but he doesn't much need it. The razor-sharp implement requires little strength to slice through flesh, and even the slightest hindrance is important in neutralizing her considerable advantage.
It doesn't occur to him yet that taking this stance might prove a dangerous move, as his body is human again, but he'll deal with that later.]
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