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... )
She just wanted to get better.
It's for that cause that she cut down countless of bodies one after another, and kept her instincts sharp after undergoing vigorous training ever since she was young to hone her reflex and sense of danger. One mistake can be fatal on the battlefield, and one moment of letting your guard down can translate to death in the next. So naturally, to have come as far as she did and build up the resounding reputation that she has inside the Mercenary's Guilds, she was by far from easy picking.
She hears something. It was the quietness that unsettled: if the steps were muffled with care, that means that the person is actively trying to disguise their presence. She flexes the grip of her sword and sharpens her focus. It seems to be coming from the back...
...
She stops walking after taking a few more steps, stopping at the middle of a crossroad between two streets. Cars? Psht, these things are big and loud. If one is closing in, she'll easily be able to see it and dodge it, but for now, she needs open ground to see who's tailing her. They can't come close without revealing themselves, and even if they use ranged weapons, there's enough room to evade. She takes note of the trees, bushes, mailboxes, and other various things nearby: every normal lawn ornament now could be used as a cover then.
So standing there with her sword drawn, she stares coolly at his general direction. It may look like nothing special, but her stance is angled in such a way to allow her the flexibility to quickly shift into an offensive or defensive position. It'll just heavily depend on the situation.
There, she waits. Whoever it is, they can't just stay hidden and stare at her forever.]
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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 enough.]
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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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