[color=gray][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/AS2MEph.png[/img] [color=gold]Time:[/color] Evening, Ignis 2 [color=gold]Location:[/color] Tough Tavern [center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=32_v17J8qKM[/youtube][/center] [color=gold]Interaction:[/color][@Tae] [img]https://i.imgur.com/PsKHmMI.png[/img] [color=#99546F][h1]₱₳Ɽ₮ 1 - ₥₳ⱤłɄ₴[/h1][/color] [img]https://i.imgur.com/8AgZcIJ.gif[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/PsKHmMI.png[/img][/center] Marius couldn’t help but imagine what that beautiful face might look like if he had carved it apart. Not some messy hack job, of course, but in nice, clean steps. The corner of her mouth first, to see how her smile looked when it could no longer close… Then the eyelid peeled back just enough that blinking hurt. He pictured her teeth showing through a slit in her cheek when she tried to talk. He counted, in his head, how many cuts it would take before even people who loved her had to look twice to recognize what was left. The thought made his pupils flare as a childlike delight filled him. After Garran had given him the nod, he turned toward her slowly, savoring it, an amused [color=#99546F]“hmm,”[/color] slipping past his lips as they parted into a satisfied grin. The razor’s chain stopped spinning mid-sway, and the sudden stillness drew eyes. He stepped in closer to the woman with the scarlet hair, boots whispering over sticky boards, until Kalliope could smell the sour mix of sweat, and blood rolling off him. His bloody hand settled on the bar between hers with a wet [i]tap[/i], fingers spreading lazy-wide, hemming hers in without touching. [color=#99546F]“Look at you,”[/color] he breathed, grin widening. [color=#99546F]“Storm blowin’ the roof off, an’ you’re still tryin’ to [i]bargain[/i]. What a [i]brave[/i] girl.”[/color] His gaze walked over her piece by piece. [i]Hands. Throat. Eyes.[/i] Her pulse seemed to jump harder in her neck the longer he stared. He raised his voice just enough for the nearest tables to hear. [color=#99546F]“‘Any piece o’ my body you choose,’”[/color] he repeated, tasting the words. [color=#99546F]“You lot hear that?”[/color] Heads dipped lower. A couple of drunker patrons flicked their eyes her way: [i]better the brave mouth than them.[/i] Marius leaned in until his lips were almost brushing her ear. He bit his own lower lip, pleased with the sight of her, his eyes dragging over her once more. A slick finger traced along her jaw, painting the line of it red as his tone dropped. [color=#99546F]“You’re thinkin’ I take those sweet fingers,”[/color] he murmured. [color=#99546F]“Maybe an ear if I’m feelin’ playful. Quick little [i]snip[/i], you hobble out with a story an’ a scar.”[/color] He chuckled low. [color=#99546F]“When you say ‘any piece,’ all I hear is, ‘Marius, love, don’t stop ’til you ain’t [i]curious[/i] no more.’”[/color] The razor snapped open in his free hand with a flick. He slid his fingers between hers for just a moment more, squeezing her hand like she was an old lover he’d missed. Then he let go, took his time spreading her fingers out one by one, arranging them neatly on the wood like he was setting a display. He turned the blade in his grip, point angling straight down. [i]THUNK.[/i] The first jab came hard and sudden, the razor plunging into the wood between her thumb and forefinger. The board jumped under their hands, splinters kicking up. A couple of nearby patrons flinched like they’d felt it go through bone. Marius’ pupils blew wide as he wrenched it from the bar. For a moment, he wasn’t in the tavern at all; he was somewhere behind his eyes, counting. One finger off, then the next. The sound each would make hitting the floor. The way her scream would change when there were gaps where her knuckles used to be. Whether she’d watch her own hands while it happened, or squeeze her eyes shut and miss the show. The thought made his breath hitch in a little laugh he didn’t quite let out. [color=#99546F]“Now…”[/color] he said finally as if she was near and dear to him, [color=#99546F]“I wouldn’t go twitchin’ on me, dove. Not unless you’re real eager to find out which [i]piece[/i] I fancy first.”[/color] [i]Tap. Tap. Tap.[/i] Each tap was exactly between two of her fingers. The spacing was perfect, a metronome of how close he could come without touching her. [i]Tap. Tap. Tap.[/i] On the last one, he twisted his wrist. The blade turned on its edge and kissed the side of her pinkie finger before she could flinch. The cut was shallow but purposeful. Blood welled, beading along the curve of her finger and dripping down the side. Marius’ grin was feral. [color=#99546F]“There it is,”[/color] he whispered, eyes never leaving her face. [color=#99546F]“You feel that? Barely nothin’. But your head’s already racin’, ain’t it? [i]If that’s a start, where does he stop?[/i]”[/color] He pivoted the razor again, letting the tip drag up, slow, along the inside of her wrist. It pressed just enough to scratch the skin without breaking it. [color=#99546F]“You thought you were movin’ yourself closer to the exit,”[/color] he went on, and now the sweetness in his voice curdled, the speed of his speech intensifying, [color=#99546F]“Walk the room, count the bodies, slip yourself where the bad guys ain’t lookin’.”[/color] He clicked his tongue, mock scolding. [color=#99546F]“You’re not the first rat who thought learnin’ the layout made ’em bigger than the trap.”[/color] His tone flicked up into an almost sing-song cadence, words tripping off his tongue with manic cheer. [color=#99546F]“You see paths,”[/color] he crooned, [color=#99546F]“I see [i]veins[/i]. You see tables, I see places to strap ’em. You’re dreamin’ two moves ahead—”[/color] He suddenly slammed the razor’s spine down beside her hand, hard enough to make the bar jump and a few people yelp. He didn’t nick her. Not that time. [color=#99546F]“—I’m thinkin’ ten screams deep.”[/color] He burst into jarring laughter. It wasn’t a bark or a cackle; it was reminiscent of the ecstatic laugh of someone watching fireworks. Then it died [i]instantly[/i]. His face emptied, eyes going flat as he brought the blade up and laid it along the side of her throat. [color=#99546F]“Let me paint it for you,”[/color] he said, every syllable slow. [color=#99546F]“You spill so much as a tear’s worth of drink, I don’t take a [i]piece[/i]. I take…[i]identity[/i].”[/color] His eyes brightened, feverish. [color=#99546F]“By the time you’ve cost me a barrel, we’ll play a fun game. I’ll walk you down this room an’ ask: [i]Which one of you knows her?[/i]”[/color] He smiled wider, teeth bared. [color=#99546F]“If they hesitate… your mother, your best fuckin’ friend… that’s when we know we did good work.”[/color] Someone at a nearby table choked on their own breath. The barmaid let out a broken noise and slapped both hands over her mouth, eyes squeezed shut as if that could shut out the picture he was painting. Marius’ gaze never left Kalliope. [color=#99546F]“An’ you offered that to me,”[/color] he said almost tenderly. [color=#99546F]“You put the knife in my hand and said, ‘Do your worst.’”[/color] That was when Garran moved. He didn’t rush in like a savior. He moved into the space at Kalliope’s other side with the calm of a man arriving to check a shipment. Up close, he still looked like someone who should be counting coin, not bodies. [color=#997657]“She’s right about the girl,”[/color] Garran said, almost conversational, nodding toward the barmaid. [color=#997657]“Hands shakin’ like that, we lose a week’s takin’ to the floor.”[/color] The barkeep flinched, shame and terror written together on her expression. His gaze went back to Kalliope,[color=#997657]“You want the tap?”[/color] he said to Kalliope. [color=#997657]“You get it. Go refill everyone’s tankards.”[/color] Garran leaned in just enough that she could feel the dry warmth of his breath at her ear. [color=#997657]“You slip?”[/color] he went on, tone still maddeningly calm. [color=#997657]“I don’t start with you. I start with [i]your little friends[/i]. One spilled drink, one person screams. Two spilled, two scream. You get the count wrong, we [i]don’t[/i]. By the time we’re done, you’ll know exactly how much your clever little gamble [i]cost[/i] before razor–hand here comes back t’ finish writin’ on your skin.”[/color] He straightened, giving her a short, brisk nod toward the taps. [color=#997657]“Move.”[/color] Marius shoved the barmaid roughly into a barrel in the background. She collapsed onto it, hands clamping uselessly over her mouth to smother sobs. The patrons around her flinched away like she carried bad luck on her skin, shoulders hunching as if distance alone might keep Garran’s new bargain from landing on them next. [/color]