POOHEAD189

The Elder Scrolls: Swords and Snobbery

Markus stepped out, dark hair as thick and long as ever, and with a few more scars along his jawline and shoulder blades. He looked roughened, but still somehow refined in his current state. Squinting, the sun without a cloud in the sky to hamper it, he attempted to look around for any escape route. He saw none, but his gaze kept returning to a blonde haired beauty that he could swear was looking straight at him. There was something familiar about her, but the light of the day obscured his vision, having just stepped out of the shadows.

The gate opposite him began to move, gears churning as the steel gave way and allowed his challenger to enter. Luckily, he needn't look up to see he was fighting a brutal looking Orc. Leather straps across his broad chest, his eyes were bloodshot as if he was under the effects of some drug, and dual axes were clutched in the gladiator's meaty fists. He had faced Orcs before, but there was a measured way in how it moved while still twitching in an alarming fashion.

Briefly he glanced back up at the beauty, and there was something there that he swore he recognized. It looked like she was someone he had met before. He was delving into his mind on this very fact when the gong was struck by the hammer, and it was all Markus could do to survive the first axe that had been aimed at the crown of his skull. He took one step back with a guarded look, taking his sword out of its scabbard as the second axe swept in. He had moved on instinct, and it was the wrong instinct, as the blow was far too heavy to block and it knocked his own sword into him. Luckily, it was the flat of the blade and he merely stumbled back with nothing but a split lip.

The Orc now had his full attention, and as the Mer waded in with a series of X slashes that Markus ducked and caught with his blade to redirect it rather than parry. The spellsword was not weak by any stretch of the imagination, but the Orc was built like bull and it was all he could do to keep himself from being split in half. Markus stabbed forward, the Orc's axe blade turning his own, and he attempted to counter with an upward sweep. Markus spun and sliced, yet again his sword was caught by the under end of the axe head, the Orc grinning terribly before he realized his error, as the axe had only redirected it. Markus stepped forward and simply continued to move his blade, half-swording for a moment to cut open a deep gash into the Orc's midsection.

To his credit, the Orc didn't seem too phased other than giving a small shriek before headbutting Markus. The swordsman blinked, his vision growing blurry as he backpedaled and nearly fell prone. On instinct, the correct instinct this time, he flung himself to the side as the axes sliced downwards. When Markus hit the ground, he saw the Orc's groin was open and he didn't need to be told twice. He pushed his blade deep into the Orc's lower stomach, probably cutting the gladiator's manhood as he did so. This time, the Orc felt it and he let out a heavy grunt, dropping his axes into the arena dust as he desperately tried to hold in his intestines.

"Fucker," Markus breathed, managing to groggily get to his feet with his blade. The Orc looked down at the ruins of its body, then back up at Markus just in time to see the end of its life, and its head flew from its shoulders to land noisily on the floor of the coliseum. What happened next was pure, utter silence.... And then the crowd roared, and as the rugged swordsman tried to realigned his thoughts after having been knocked in the head, he attempted to look up one more time at where the woman was. But she was gone, and he was ushered out to have his wounds tended to and food to be brought, going back into the darkness as if he had never left it, save for a bright dream of blood and dirt.

"Suppose I should be thankful," he told himself.

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Their sudden struggle was turning in a direction Neil hadn't really considered, and he responded into the kiss before he really thought about what they were doing. But as soon as he knew what was happening, all gears turned toward it, and any hesitation he had was lost when she ripped his shirt. It was as if she was tearing his last bit of hostility, as he felt a warmth in his chest from the blood preparing to rush across his body.

Even if indra's entire family and a deathsquad armed to the teeth entered the room, Neil wouldn't have paid them any mind as the two intwined their limbs and tongues, years of pent up sexual frustration being spent. Somehow, the pilot lost his trousers next. If you had asked him later, he wouldn't have even remembered how, only he was glad that they hadn't been ripped either.

They twirled, Junebug's legs around Neil's hips as they hit the bed. Neil groaned. "Put your goddamn back into it," he said, some of the earlier aggression still in him.

"I'll show you my fucking back," She promised, and the evening turned into the night as the two commenced for a timeless period of pleasure. Neil got back to what senses he had while the moon was full, his hair a mess and the smoke having wafted out of the outer balcony. He suddenly realized just how fucked he likely was, but you know, he realized he didn't give a fuck when he glanced over at Junebug.

It was worth it.

---

The Pilot and the Captain slumbered as hard as they had fucked, because the furious knocking went on for Gods only knew how long before both were coherent enough to realize there was a noise. Neil squinted, lifting his head into the warm sun of the window above, and he heard a very familiar voice.

"Captain! Captain, it's Taya!" The girls voice carried, slightly muffled by the closed door. "Captain! Wake up, Neil's gone missing!"
@Penny

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

To say Neil was surprised was an understatement. He wiped something wet from his lip, and he found it was a blood droplet. He guessed her pushing him into the door broke the skin a bit. Well either way, he was glad Saxon was gone and it was fortunate they somehow had similar opinions on him at the moment, oddly enough. Still, her pointing his own gun at him (and his ears still rang) wasn't a scenario he planned on.

He honestly hadn't thought on how they would see Sayeeda and Taya after he had left, and truth be told he probably would have stopped himself from leaving if he thought they'd come to harm. "Look just because I bail doesn't mean they'd put you two in a conspiracy." He spat. Then her other words caught his thoughts and he was angry again.

"I haven't touched her!" He all but screamed at her. "I don't know if you've noticed but everytime we're together it's because she leaps on me!"

"Oh, poor you." She deadpanned, eyes as hard as Xarconian steel. She might be in her birthday suit but at the moment he felt naked enough to be on trial. To his credit, he didn't really flinch from the gun barrel. Be it because he knew that her killing him would complicate things more, he thought she wouldn't shoot him anyway, or he simply didn't care wasn't apparent. "You've been with how many women since we've met? I'm to think this one you didn't jump into bed with?"

The pilot leaped off the bed, and looked directly at her. "I already told you it's because you kept telling me no. Even last night was a no!" he growled. "But even past that, I've never lied about any of them, have I? I'm not lying now. I haven't fucked her. I don't want to fuck her. I only want to fuck you." Well, it wasn't exactly an 'I love you' but it was something. When she still didn't respond, he sighed and held his hand out.

"Can I have my gun back?"

Junebug snorted. "You were about to skip the planet a minute ago. No you can't."

"Oh where'ya going to holster that thing? You're the Captain of the ship, not my shit now give it back."

"I said no, and that's fina-"

Neil tackled her like a cannon ball, and the gun went off in the room and from the sound of it, ricocheted twice and broke something dainty and expensive that neither saw. The gun was now out of her hands on the ground, and the Captain and the Pilot were wrestling with all their strength, now entangled in a cacophony of sweat and emotions.
@Penny

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Neil looked both horrified and disgusted, eyes wide and lips have involuntarily parted. He should have expected the one thing to go wrong in this situation would, and now that it was here he didn't know what to do or say. He started to say 'what the fuck' to Junebug, and she could see the beginning of the W on his lips, before he stopped and shook his head.

Saxon grumbled irritably. "What are you doing-"

Neil casually pulled out his revolver and pointed it at Saxon's head. "You're not going to speak. I don't want to hear one word out of you. If I hear you talk again, I'll kill you." He said, having never spoken so seriously in his life. "One more word. I don't care if you kill me. I will find a way to drag you to hell."

The Hexanagallion wasn't necessarily frightened, but in all of his long years chasing Neil, he had never heard him like this. It surprised him enough to where he didn't immediately respond, and Neil holstered his revolver and looked to Junebug. Neil could feel the rage inside of him, broiling in the pit of his stomach. But something happened. There was a layer of apathy above it, and Junebug could see that he had been broken in a way. He had none of his heart, silliness, or even the hysterical anger that he should have been feeling out.

He shook his head. "Is this what you want?" He asked her. "I won't stop you. But I aint taking this." The pilot seemed very far away. "I don't want any of it. I don't want Indra, the reward, the highlander." He backed up, breathing through flared nostrils. "I'm going to steal a ship and go back to ripping off mobs and fixing ventilation shafts on Ryloc. I can't! I CAN'T!" he made his way to the door, not caring if anyone outside questioned why he was in her chambers. But the door was sealed shut, and needing Junebug's voice command to open it. Likely because she didn't want anyone barging in on her and Saxon.

There was likely no guards out, as it was their feasting time. But still, it was alarming that Neil punched and kicked the door impressively loudly. "Fucking open!"

He still sounded done, but the door being closed made his actual rage surface. Maybe there was still some of him in there after all.
@Penny

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

At first he was somewhat surprised. He had expected her to be furious, not shocked he was there. He didn't quite know what to make of it, and decided to pay no heed to it at the current time. He needed to breathe easier though. She wasn't going at him like a Ranaak serpent from Zolas. "I wasn't set to her marry her, I thought that's what you wanted. I know, I know, I am an idiot." he said, holding his hands up.

"Just..." he didn't rightly know what to say, honestly. Though the consolation prize insult did get his blood boiling a bit. He'd been with multiple women but only because she had kept rejecting him!

"Hey!" he barked, stepping forward. "You're not a fucking prize. And I couldn't care less about these people. They could be thrown into a vat of boiling iron, I don't give a fuck." Briefly he wondered how smart it was to throw caution to the wind and speak like that aloud, but he realized if they had cameras or had the room bugged, they would have confronted him yesterday. "I'm throwing all the shit they want to give me away for you, does that sound like you're just some prize on my belt?"

He was very close at the moment. He could feel the heat from the shower emanating off of her, but he only looked her straight in the eyes.
@Penny

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Neil was lucky the hallway wasn't overly wide, or he would never have been able to pull off such a maneuver. He used to do this back in school often, when the teaching officials looked for him to mete out punishment. Now he found himself doing this to avoid Indra and the guards that she had ordered to find him as to invite him to some frivilious activity he had no idea of. It was a simple one, where he placed both arms out, along with both legs out, keeping the pressure on both sides to keep himself elevated above a normal human's field of vision within the hallway.

His rump touched the ceiling, he was so far up there. About a dozen feet or so, and as the multitudes of guards hustled past him and out of his chambers, he breathed a sigh of relief and still waited for a minute or two, just to be certain. Sure enough, two guardsmen hustled back in to see if he had been in there and had come out of hiding, but when they found nothing, they left. He'd been in too many hairy situations to not know how to get out of one.

"Goddamn..." he growled to himself, unable to even speak more than the single word, but he wanted to add 'Sayeeda' after it. She was making him jealous, and what's more he couldn't even blame her. She had bared her heart and soul and he had been too stupid to realize she had wanted him to tell her she was wrong. Granted, if she had talked to him about it back on Hahn this wouldn't be happening, but it had been a quick confession and-

"Shut up" he told himself, and dropped down to the floor. "Just stay out of sight and do what you need to do."

And so he did. He had to scale the outer walls of the palace, raking in more sweat than he cared to admit and nearly falling twice, but he made it to where he intended to go. It would be just at the cusp of evening when Sayeeda would make it back to her chambers, and she decided she needed to shower. She would have heard some small talk of him being missing, but nothing too serious. Once she was done with her shower, wrapped within her towel, she found the pilot sitting at the edge of her bed.

"You're wrong." He said to her before she could even give a question to why he was there. He looked up at her. "You are worth it. I'm just too stupid to realize that I should have said it yesterday." Rubbing his temples, he stood up. "Fuck all this. Fuck marrying her, fuck any of this. I'm sorry I'm braindead, but you mean a lot to me. More than any woman. So tell me off or order me to leave, but don't look at me like that. You said the same thing to me yesterday. I'm tired of doing this dance, and I'm tired of my part in it. So..."

He crossed his arms, looking at her. "What do you say?"

Not exactly romantic, but she was definitely a conundrum when it came to traditional romance.
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Murmurs began to arise from the crowd, and the spectacle had caused the usual tavern goers to give the enchanting 'seeress' a wide berth, shifting seats or watching her from the side. None of them saw the trick she had pulled other than Amal, however, who had been watching the charade from the opposite corner of the room. He had been sipping his drink as he enjoyed the ploy. Truth be told, he had initially been fooled like the rest of them when she had transmuted the coins, but he caught on quickly when he saw her sleight of hand.

As the man fled into the streets, Amal lifted up both his tankard and hers and made his way over to her around the crowd's blind spots, so as not to draw too much attention to himself. "You know, women of ill repute do not last long in Araby." he teased, sliding her mead across to the table into her waiting hands. She took the drink happily, pleased with herself. He smirked, leaning back casually.

"Then again, if you're to dabble in unknown arts, Copher is where to do it." He conceded, and they toasted to their recent gold and adventures.

Amal had expected to lose sight of her more than a few times throughout their journey, and he believed she likely had thought the same of him. The cutthroat had to admit that without one another, neither would have made it out of Al-Hiekk alive, much less would have made it to Copher. He wasn't certain if he respected her skills, it was his curiosity on the map, or it was simple attraction, but somehow they were still reaping the benefits of other's misfortunes with one another.

He could get used to this.

---

Hours later...

The day was waning, and though the sun still held sway over the sky, it would only be a few short hours before it would fall into the evening, and they still needed to find a place to stay within the city. The establishment they had been within had no rooms, only drinks, of which the two of them had plenty. Perhaps not enough to halt their reason, but it gave them a comfortable feeling as they walked around the city.

Balconies hovered above them, the calls of men and the giggling of women emerging from within the towering spires they were attached to. Amal had the urge to climb one and take his chance at stealing something valuable, but now was not the time. They had left the shops, and the towers of learning and wizardry stood vigil over the northern edge of the city, but between them and there were the western docks that stretched over the coastline.

A crowd bogged down the streets that reached the docks, and even from a distance it was obvious why. There atop various raised wooden platforms were slaves from across the world, bound and chained and being sold off to anyone wealthy enough to purchase them. Some of them looked much like Emmaline, but still others were from Cathay or even further south from Araby, and Amal even noticed a knife eared elf or two being pinched like raw meat.

Emmaline shuddered, no doubt remembering her days as the love puppet of the Emir. Amal remembered days in his youth being chained as well. But it was how things were, and he couldn't change it. "In Araby, you have three choices." He said, glancing at Emmaline. "Enslave, be enslaved, or steal for a living." The thief shrugged, and turned to leave, before Emmaline let out a squeal that took the soft comfort of the drink right out of him.

He spun, his offhand already on the dagger he had hidden behind his tunic on his lower back. She was held by two strong hands, one from two men. Both were Corsairs with rough facial hair and an appraising eye. The man on the left lifted her chin up, moving her head side to side roughly. "Is she for sale?" he asked in Arabyan, and upon closer inspection Emmaline would see his right eye was made of glass. He turned it to Amal. "Are you her owner? Do you have papers?"

Amal grabbed the Corsair's arm, and a dagger materialized in his offhand, now pressed to the Corsair's throat. "She is mine," he said, realizing the futility of trying to claim she was not a slave. "She was not brought in with the others, now be off." He warned, and shoved the man away. The Corsair snarled, but made no move to reach for Emmaline again until he saw his partner grab the hilt of his cutlass.

"Show us her mark. You can never be too careful-" He began, but Amal had lived in Araby too long to know that this could be negotiated out of. The two men looked like they could handle themselves, so he didn't attack with his dagger. Instead, he gave a smile and kicked the dirt and sand that had accumulated on the road, hitting the men in their widened eyes and causing them to stumble back in surprise and pain.

"Allah curse you!" one roared, the other swiping the street with his sword, but there was no only air where there had been Emmaline before, Amal having lead her through the window of one of the spires across the street, closing it before the two pirates knew what had happened. Closing the veil-curtain, Amal winked. "Well, some men steal and enslave. But who's counting?"
@Penny

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

"Isn't it wonderful?" Junebug asked, her face plastered with a smile that could only fool those bewildered like Taya, who honestly didn't know what to think. She had always pushed for Neil and Junebug to stop running circles around each other, but...if he was getting married.

Before 'business' could begin, Indra grabbed Neil and kissed him full on the lips in celebration, much how Neil had kissed Junebug not two weeks ago when they had managed to get off of Hahn. Neil flailed, not entirely knowing where to put his hands or what to do at all, being kissed in public and in front of Junebug, and also before their was even an agreement!

"So, what we offer Neil is obvious." Indra's mother said without even looking. "What we offer you is a very prized, highly sought after plasma weapon. A new rifle we are developing. My husband can give you the details." She said, and gaudily sipped her wine glass. Meanwhile, Saxon had begun to dig a very large hole in the sand a few paces off to the west for some unknown xenos purpose. It almost looked like a hole that a terran sea turtle would dig to lay eggs, but Neil knew that even with his alien biology, the Hexanagallion males didn't lay eggs.

Junebug's vision of Indra kissing Neil would be replaced by a portable vidcaster Gredorius placed in front of her face. It was a triple action, burst fire carbone. Triple action meaning the third action was DNA specific, and only she would be allowed to fire it. It also didn't necessarily fire plasma rounds. It was plasma fueled. The rounds were displacer rounds, that tore the targets apart atom by atom. It was a weapon, junebug knew, that most military's had laws against their usage within the branches.

"So, will you do it?"

"What about Saxon and Taya?" The Captain asked.

"I have an agreement with the Hexan. I could always use top enforcers in my line of work. Taya and I will discuss her employment, but I can only get to each of you so fast, and there is the reward for my daughter's safe return to consider. You will have it, and be ready to go on your assignment in three days time. Is this acceptable for you?"
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Amal should have been waylaid by desert bandits, attacked by Snake Guardians, and nearly drowned more often. The trip was far more comfortable to Copher than he had originally thought. It was true that Trogg ate a bit more than they had, but he had expected it. The bandit was used to rough travel and living roughly, and he spent most of the way either guiding the Camel on foot or guiding it atop it with Emmaline behind.

At first, Copher looked like one single tower standing in the distance, but over the next few miles it was a true spectacle. Multiple towers of swirling majesty filled the sky, with walls the color of bronze flexing their strength over the arid landscape, even as the sea threatened to swallow the land up from behind. It looked a sight more resplendent than Al-Hiekk, though there was still a rundown quality to the stonework. Araby always had an aged look to it, even with all of the gold and the women and the magic.

Some would find it cynical, but Amal thought that was apart of its charm. It meant there was plenty for him to hide in as he stole all of the good shit. The thought brought a grin to his face.

Once through the open gates, it looked much similar to Al-Hiekk. The throngs of beggars and haggard looking citizenry mingling with audaciously dressed merchants and entertainers. The Ogre scratched his 'jumbled parts' as he called them, and picked his teeth with the same hand. "Oi, wa'nt so bad fers some food and that lot of gold. Where else we headed, eh? the lumbering thing asked. Before Emmaline could speak, Amal placed his hands on her shoulders and led her away.

"We'll no longer be in need of your services, Trogg. Hope you enjoyed the meals!" The cutthroat said to him.

"What are you doing?" Emmaline whispered acidly, having gotten comfortable with such a large enforcer.

"We have a trove of gold but as soon as it runs out, so will his loyalty." he whispered back. "I know a backstabber when I see one. I've done it a few times myself."

The Ogre waved them as they made their way down the street with their packs and their lone camel. Usually Amal was content with finding a nice rooftop or abandoned hovel to sleep in, but he had a woman to entertain and gold to spend in celebration! They might not be of aristocratic birth, and they might both be fugitives, but the golden rule was plain. He who has the gold makes the rules. After a small perusal of the city, Amal and Emmaline found a fine tavern to relax in. A famous Ale House and Brewery of the port city where traders from all over the southern sea drank and talked.

As Amal went to grab a drink and some food for he and Emmaline, the woman would overhear a conversation in bumbling Arabic. At first it didn't sound like a native speaker, but soon she would realize the man was fraught with emotion as he spoke to a servant of his, begging to know if there was any word of a caravan from Al-Hiekk that had disappeared not a few days ago. Regretfully, the servant had no word, having no inkling that a sly con artist listening had not only traveled with the Caravan, but survived it to tell the tale. Just as Amal was heading back with the drinks...
@Penny

an abandoned building: a test of courage: a bond brought by horror

@VampiretwilightHello yes, this is a free roleplay. Please pay attention to the guidelines. I'll move it over to free, but next time keep it in mind please :)