[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

[feverhound]

"Aah." Laughing again, Namae cocked his back for a moment before spitting out a mouthful of blood onto the ground, licking the residues of it off his lips. "Y'know -- I think you're just too soft for a bounty hunter." His tone of voice was matter-of-fact, almost pleasant, in contrast to the Dog's growling in the background, and he gave Spike a crooked smile. "I'm glad you're indulging me."

There was the flash of steel as he adjusted his grip on the knife, idly raising it to point the tip of it in Spike's face. "But -- " Pause, while he laughed, swaying a bit where he stood, half-drunk on the blood-rush through his head. "But I don't like the fact you're going easy on me." Twirling the knife around his fingers, he grinned. "Faggot monk won't be staying in one place forever, y'know. You might wanna hurry a bit before he moves and I lose his location, mm?"

[7livesleft]

For someone who didn't seem to care about anything, Namae was putting a lot of energy into goading him on. It was flattering. Spike took the opportunity to pick up his gun, only glancing up when the knife was pointed at him. He didn't need any reminders. Already he'd wasted enough time searching the city. (How many weeks had it been?) Might even be a lost cause. But he owed it to Nagi, and he wasn't looking to go into any more debt.

Then it was always possible that Namae was stalling because he didn't know. It was his mistake to make.

"You talk a lot. You really must have been bored waiting for me." Spike cocked the gun, before slipping into a joking tone that didn't quite match the look he was giving. "So what if I said, 'If you don't tell where he is, I'll kill you'? Right now."

[feverhound]

"Bored?" The sarcasm dripped from his words, his expression incredulous as he spun the knife around his fingers once more. "Bored -- bored is a gross understatement, Mr. Spike. You have any idea how dull it's been here? I've been going out of my mind, here -- and now, you're almost disappointing. Can you see why I'm not giving you what you want?" He spoke slowly, as if chiding a stupid child.

And only when the gun was cocked did he laugh again, taking a slow step forward. Crooning in a low voice, "Then you won't get your answer, will you?" The knife flashed as he shifted his grip, preparing for a forward slash -- his words were still almost amiable, though, as he took another step forward, staring directly down the length of the gun. "I don't think you're gonna shoot. You're the type to shoot to kill, I'm guessing -- and that's not gonna help your purpose, is it? I still want to know how badly you want the monk's location. How fucking bad you need it."

so sorry this is so late :cccccccccc

[7livesleft]

"You're making a lot of assumptions." The more he talked, the more Spike was starting to think it was just a coincidence that Namae found Nagi's voicebox. It was a good way for him to get some of that attention he was craving. But if he wasn't careful, he might sound like the desperate one.

As generous as the bounty hunter had been, it was starting to get on his nerves. "If you're not going to tell me, what does it matter to me either way?" He kept his finger on the trigger, hesitating only courtesy's sake. "Last chance."

np bb :<

[feverhound]

"You don't get it, do you." There was genuine disappointment in those words, and Namae's wolfish half-smile had faded into something more sullen, more cynical. "You don't get why I'm not telling you. See -- the thing is -- I don't give a fuck whether you actually find the faggot monk or not. I've been watching him torture the poor bastard he caught for ages and I can watch a bit longer, or you can sniff him out on your own, I honestly don't care."

Slinking forward another half-step, he glared down the length of gun into Spike's face, lips curved sharply in a scornful scowl. "But I did wanna see how determined you were. -- I'm sick and tired of how fucking half-assed this place is. I thought you'd actually want this info badly, but I guess I overestimated you, with the way you're not even trying."

There was the grind of dirt under his boot as he turned to leave.

[7livesleft]

For a second he was impressed. It was rare to run across someone that jaded, even if he came off sounding like a kid in need of a hobby. Spike wasn't quite convinced, but he could almost sympathize with the feeling. Not a single fear of death. He wouldn't even defend himself against a guy pointing a gun at him; all because he was so sure he had it figured out.

Most people had hangups about shooting someone in the back. Spike only waited until he dropped his guard. He was shaking his head as he aimed, first at his head, then lowering just below the shoulder.

Not that he needed to. As close as he was, he could have hit him without looking. He wasn't smiling when he fired.

[feverhound]

He really hadn't expected Spike to pull the trigger. Because Namae had been genuinely disappointed, had genuinely thought that this entire confrontation had ended up an enormous waste of time. -- and so, when he heard the whipcrack of the gunshot, then felt the wall of pain slam through his chest, forcing him to stagger forward a step -- a burst of true elation coursed through his veins.

The bullet must have hit somewhere near his shoulder blade, and he coughed, feeling his breath hitch in his throat. Nothing immediately fatal, it seems. Ah, but it hurt. It hurt pretty bad. Cough, gasp -- then he laughed, the sound coming out ragged around the edges.

Half-turning to look at Spike, he gave a leering grin. "-- that's not very nice, Mr. Spike. When you're trying to get information out of someone, you usually shoot their extremities off, don't you?" He was obviously masking the strain on his body as he stepped towards Spike -- ignoring the slow trickle of blood down his back -- "Ah, but, are you being serious now?"

[7livesleft]

"You're going to want to stay still," he said flatly, lowering the gun. "The more you move around, the less time you have."

Spike was annoyed. If Namae died, he'd be back where he started. And he was thinking it was going to be a pain in the ass to find a doctor when there were only one or two left in the city. Then again, he shouldn't have expected anything less from Namae.

He sighed and thought about taking out another cigarette. With luck he wouldn't pass out too soon, but he wouldn't put it past him. "Talk fast."

[feverhound]

"No, you pussy son of a bitch, don't you fucking dare disappoint me now." The words were spat out venomously in between ragged breaths. "Not now, you bastard, not when you're halfway there."

Lips curved in a sharp grin, he gestured with his knife, even as his balance swayed the slightest. The back of his shirt felt damp. "-- don't worry, I keep my promises. I won't die without giving you the location. As long as you don't back out."

A cough, before he lunged forward to aim a diagonal slash at Spike's arm.

[7livesleft]

Spike narrowed his eyes as Namae kept raving on. He really got off on this stuff. Even when he knew he wasn't going to last much longer, he kept on pushing him. Like he really thought it was worth it to die over this.

Spike found himself turning his attention to the dog, wondering why it hadn't attacked him yet with the way it was growling. Unless Namae was holding it back. It was a little late if he was waiting for the right moment to set him off.

"You're a stubborn one, aren't you?" He looked to him in time to see the swipe of the blade and felt the sting on his arm and reflexively countered with a low kick towards wound on Namae's leg.

Since it didn't look like he'd be calling for a doctor just yet, his curiosity caught up with him. "Halfway to what?"

[feverhound]

As far as he was concerned, this maybe was worth dying for. He'd gone far, far too long without the thrill of a one-on-one fight that would end with a corpse -- and that was really the only reason why he was keeping Dog from joining in. Not much fun if he had to share this thrill, hm

[7livesleft]

So he wasn't done yet. Spike ignored his taunting. He didn't need to prove anything to Namae; he was perfectly aware of what he was capable of. That didn't mean he liked it and that didn't make him who he was. Seemed like he still had it in him though. He sidestepped the next attack and got a good look at his back as he turned.

"Further?" Spike raised an eyebrow. It might have been a testament to Namae's willpower that he was still fighting, but he wasn't as impressed as he'd been a moment ago. He was going to bleed out if he kept it up.

Son of a bitch. Spike spoke in cold monotone, already knowing the answer. "Will you think I'm serious before or after you're dead?"

[feverhound]

"Shut the fuck up, you half-assed piece of shit." And he sounded absolutely disgusted by now, spitting the words out between harsh breaths. "The fuck does it matter if I die, since I'll come right back with a flash of magic? I just wanna see if anything here has any sort of fucking passion."

His voice was starting to slur around the edges as he staggered back, laughing under his breath. "-- ah. Such a fucking cocktease. Think I'm gonna die that easily, huh?"

Dog was still snarling at both Spike at the cat, fur bristling. And there was the faint whine of leather against steel as Namae returned his knife to its holster, then gave Spike a bored stare. His balance swayed and he paused for a moment before muttering flatly, "I'm leaving."

[7livesleft]

Couldn't blame him for trying to reason with him. But it looked like Namae was too impatient for that.

"You're not." He said loudly after he finished, smiling again despite how much he was grating his nerves. "You got away with that before. I'm a generous guy, but I've got my limits."

Spike didn't miss how he was staggering already. And he still thought he could walk away. "I didn't come here to listen to you lecture because you won't admit how weak you are.

"If you can't handle it, you should be more careful who you challenge." He gave a pointed look to his missing arm with a charmingly cruel expression. "Handicapped or not, I didn't think you'd be such a whiner."

[feverhound]

He was moving the moment the word 'weak' dropped from Spike's lips. The rage that instantly boiled up in his gut overrode any pain in his system, and in an instant, he'd torn his pistol from its holster at his belt, turned, aimed at Spike's arm, and pulled the trigger. All without a moment's hesitation.

"Can't handle it?" His words had the slurred, hissing edge of a furious drunk, accompanied by a condescending half-smile. "I could have shot you without ever having to talk to you. All I wanted was a fun showdown without your petty holding back."

Another shot exploded the pavement before Spike's feet, and Namae smiled, his teeth bared. Aiming for Spike's head, next, his words curt and quiet in their anger. "I was so disappointed."