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[nevermercy]

CHARACTERS: Agravaine (nevermercy) & Ares (wars_passion)
DATE/TIME: May 3, evening
LOCATION: Brooklyn
RATING: R
WARNINGS: Swearing, lots of violence, blood, etc.
SUMMARY: When you hit a lady, you're not allowed to get away with it.

Comments

[wars_passion]

It hadn't been hard to find Julian's apartment once he found the paperwork he had had him and his brother fill out for the cage fighting. AT the time he had been decently impressed by the brothers, but now Arron had one thing on his mind. Vengeance. Arron was not the White Knight Eleanor had claimed he was; he was a down and dirty fighter with a taste for blood that couldn't be rivaled. He had a problem with macho men who thought that hitting a girl half their size was something to be proud of. His drunk ass father had believed that.

A little rain and some quiet threats for stronger weather had never bothered him before and wasn't going to start as he watched the man exit his apartment building. Arron wore his black leather jacket and black quick dry pants to keep the rain at bay. He had fought the urge to light a cigarette as he waited as the scent just might be picked up if the kid was sensitive to it.

Keeping far enough away, he saw him turn the corner into a back alley. Probably cutting through to the next street, he thought to

[nevermercy]

And knocked him off his feet he did -- but Agravaine didn't fall to his knees, having been propelled forward enough to catch his balance before his face met the asphalt. His steps were clumsy, but he was quick to turn on his heel to face the man who'd thought to charge him like some wild animal.

There was a moment where he relaxed just slightly, unaware of why Arron might've been after him, if he'd been after him. Completely ignorant of the other's connection to Euterpe, the knight held his palms up in a 'what gives' sort of motion, lowering his guard by accident. But he could tell something was wrong with this situation. Something didn't sit right.

"What the hell, man?" he spat out, his tone a mixture of confusion and irritation.

[wars_passion]

A smirk grew on Arron's lips that held that love of a fight and intent to hurt that he enjoyed seeing in his fighters. A few quick steps forward, he grabbed one of the upheld arms and swung him into the closest wall. "I thought you enjoyed impromptu fights." He growled before punching him.

When in the thralls of a fight Arron had little mind to have a discussion with his target. It was hard enough to get the words he did out. His animal instincts jumped full force into the main portions of his brain speeding up the adrenaline production. "Now fight!" The words held the base of his power that he was still unaware of. His innate ability to incite fighting made those few words he said etch into the mind and heart as if he had just insulted what the man held closest to his heart.

[nevermercy]

Agravaine's head snapped to the side with the force of the punch, the taste of blood filling his mouth when he lapped at the laceration on his lip out of habit. So this was how his evening was going to go? Fine. He hadn't had a good fight in a while. The other man's words were hardly needed in order for him to retaliate with a fist aimed toward the side of his head, as the hit alone was all he'd needed to even consider fighting back.

Maybe it was because he'd been a knight once, but he never backed away from a fight, especially if it was a one-on-one. Running away was not an option. It wasn't smart -- it was cowardly. And to die in a fight, in battle, had once been a great honor.

But now he wasn't thinking of dying. He was thinking of rearranging Arron's face.