(ooc: The fight with Martin comes first, all others happen after that)
Khan had felt no small amount of aggression earlier in the day. Fortunately his self-control was such that it had been safely vented on paper targets long since shredded. Or at least he felt he'd safely vented it. The shopkeepers may have felt differently, or perhaps their own
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Annatar had not dressed in his usual fine attire, choosing only shirt, trousers, and boots. Yes, they were expensive-looking and well made, but not his usual silk doublets. He wasn't wearing any jewelry at all.
He just couldn't decide what to do with himself. He'd woken (!) feeling not right with anything and that Man walking down the street looked entirely too self-satisfied for his own good. Sad, pathetic human.
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Khan, in turn, measured Annatar, weighing his visible advantages and potential weaknesses. It was a matter of course for the ex-dictator, but usually he was more circumspect about it.
Today, for some reason, he didn't give a damn who knew he was measuring people up.
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"What are you looking at?"
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He kicks at the next best stone and, as he observes its flight, he spots that Khan guy and everything clicks into place. The man who looks weirdly like Martin, at least his face does.
"You! Just who do you think you are?!" Not a way he usually addresses people, especially not ones physically superior, but today, logical thought and caution aren't foremost on his mind.
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"You seem to think you can get away with just any behaviour! But I've had it up to here," not that 'here' is all that high when you're Martin Crieff, "with being held responsible for your bad manners!"
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