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| Viewing Single Post From: All for One and One for a Brawl | |
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| Orion de Lacey | Jun 8 2009, 01:20 PM |
Governor of Ashoka
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There were two things that Orion seemed to hate in the world: people, and obnixously warm cities. The former couldn't be helped - people were everywhere, and try as you might, you simply couldn't just make them all disappear - but the latter was something he constantly asked himself. Why am I here? What the hell was I thinking? Why haven't I left yet? Those three questions had become a mantra in his head as he prowled the streets with a scowl upon his face. It wasn't the first time Orion had gone somewhere without really thinking about it, and it wouldn't be the last either. At least there were mildly competent soldiers wandering around - he could easily find himself in a brawl, alleviating his anger and frustration. And that was what he intended to do. With an alignment that could only scream chaotic evil, the devilish face of the young man appeared before a hapless commoner, two pails of water slung across his shoulders via a wooden bar. Orion's mismatched eyes were alight with a fire only seen in the insane; his nose was almost pressed against the older man's. The latter, shocked, staggered back several steps, his water sloshing over the sides. He glared at Orion, whose face had twisted into a wolfish grin. "Look what ya did, boy! You just made me spill my water." "I'm going to make you spill more than just that, old man." The scythe appeared from behind him, both blades attached. The heads gleamed in the sunlight, a warm summer's breeze ruffling the feathers that decorated them. The man's eyes widened, surprised. He really should have been paying attention. The buckets fell to the dry ground as the fighter lashed out. Light on his feet, Orion swung the scythen with toned arms, visible due to his lack of sleeves. One blade bit into the man's shoulder and, with a violent twist, threw him to the ground, backwards head over heels; the second tore into his chest. Amidst the man's dying, pleading, helpless screams, the blades alternated hacking into his body, spraying blood and flesh across the walls, the street, and the murderer standing above him. Blood and water mingled on the sand-dusted cobblestones and Orion's feet sloshed in it, the glee upon his face mimicking that of a young child's. The victim, now a pile of mutilated and unrecognizable flesh and bone, lay upon the street in a bloody heap. The sound of footsteps behind him caused Orion to whip around. The grin had not left his face, nor the insanity from his eyes. "Are you aware of what you've just done, son?!" one asked, incredulous. The Devil's advocate nodded, flashing his teeth. His garb, a black shirt beneath a sort of leather jerkin, and a pair of equally black pants, only heightened the dark aura that seemed to surround him. The wind that circumnavigated his body pushed outward in a violent blast, tearing at the six men who had all gathered beside him. One muttered something about not touching the insane man, while others stared with slack jaws. The apparent leader of the small group pointed his weapon, a spear, at Orion. He spoke wtih an authoritarian tone. "For what you have done you must answer to your crimes, boy! Cease and desist all action!" Orion's grin widened. The blood-stained scythen twisted in front of him, diagnol to his body as he leaned forward, his body adopting the appearance of a wolf about to spring upon its target. "Come and get me boys," he said. Sweat was mattered to his forehead and the hot sun was still proving to be a thorn in his side, but now, at least, he had something with which to amuse himself. He was feeling particularly murderous today; the sheep before him would do quite nicely. The gail that had formed around his body continued to swirl. The men, slightly perplexed, warily prepared for a brawl. Little did they know that that was exactly what Orion wanted. |
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