POOHEAD189

There's Always a Price: Sci Fi Bounty Hunters

Dirk's face was unreadable behind his helm, but it was plain to see even without her powers that he was giving her a look that was a curious mix of vexxed yet appreciative. He was about to speak when she pointed out a threat from behind him. He glanced behind him subtly, noticing the gang of men but noticing just how well they hid their motives. Had he not actively been suspicious due to her warning, he might not have noticed even with his experienced eye. Either she had a great eye, or there was something more about her than he had initially thought.

The killer then saw the white sheet and recognized one of the curvatures from his time smuggling on the West Cliosthenes. There was a slight indention 60 degrees down the left. Riot carbines.

Did he remember their faces? He didn't. Wait, he knew the second one. The stubby forehead, oft broken nose... he remembered breaking it. Dirk turned back to Jocasta and gave a nod, the female hunter seeing his hand already on the hilt of his gun, as if he had the same premonition. His gloved fingers closing around the grip slowly. There was a strict no-shooting policy, lest one get kicked out of the tower for 5 standard years. These men like as not were paid by someone to kill him and take the blame, and getting banned was likely not a worry for them. They also knew he wouldn't dare shoot first, and so they approached another few feet before they were in range of Dirk...

And then one of them clutched their head, a grunt turning into a strange gurgle. Dirk turned around and looked at him, and then he glanced at Jocasta, who seemed to be watching the tortured man intently. Once Dirk returned to watching them, the other three were confused and halted, hesitating. Dirk swiftly got up, walking to the writhing man clutching his head. The bounty hunter slipped his arm under his and helped him stay on his feet, casually pushing him into the arms of the third man.

"You better get him out of here, mate. He seems under the weather," Dirk said quietly, and the point of his DMX Heavy blaster was pressed to the third man's kidney. His face went white, nodding and motioning the others to start moving backwards. The other two didn't at first, watching him cautiously. Dirk simply shoved his gun barrel further into the man's side, and took hold of the cart with his free hand. "In fact, it would be in everyone's good health to leave now. And I mean now."

The menace in his voice was dripping, and they began to back up. Slowly, calmly, Dirk took control of the cart and pulled the stockpile of weapons away from the men, disarming them and bringing his new load of munitions back to the table. He kept himself standing until they left, watching them intently and then taking his seat at their table. He lifted his helmet a bit to take a sip of his drink.

"That headache of his was lucky for us," he commented neutrally.

Blades of the Blood Coast

I caught the Rona, so I've been shut down for the past few days. Even vaccinated it hurts like a motherfucker.

@Lucius Cypher

Oof, then take care and don't worry about this post round. You can just say which spear you bought in passing on the next round. Get better, friend!

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

Neil was high on Emmaline's gleeful joy, smiling like she was and wrapping his arms around her as she snuggled up to him. Her effervescence was addicting to the ne'er-do-well. He did his best not to mess with her hair, trying to keep her curls out of his mouth as the carriage jumbled and bucked. He could peek out the window and spy the occasional aristocratic carriage passing them by or turning down a side street. Neil had blatantly wanted to be there fashionably late, so the horse cantered at a leisurely pace.

"No, it's a surprise..." he teased, lips by her ear. "You'll like it, girly."

He hoped he was right, but he remembered the first time he saw the Glorious Griffon, he was slack jawed. Sitting comfortably in the center of a square between Altestadt and the Griffon Gate, it was a three story establishment of grandly hewed marble. Twin beacons lit the entrance where one could ascend three large steps and pass through yew doors with pewter handles. The inside glowed like gold. They waited for a few minutes as others were let out. Neil recognized a Count Vilgefortz stepping out of the carriage in front of them with an Arabyan beauty at his side, who was very much not his wife back in Marienburg. The count had fled the city a year after Neil had left due to some business going awry, and the young thief Edwards had always joked amongst his friends he would steal from the man. Not that Vilgefortz knew who Neil was. And there would be no theft tonight, of course. Things were expensive enough, and Emmaline was worth holding off on a dare for awhile.

Next, Neil untangled himself from Emmaline and straightened his suit as the door was opened for them by jaunty driver, who took his hat off as Neil stepped out, feeling very out of place but not uncomfortable with the part he was playing. Reaching out, he took Emmaline's hand and helped her down onto the cobblestones, leading her inside with all the grace of a gentlemen, though his grin was anything but. Within, the walls, side barriers and stairs were made of the finest mahogany, rich and red in the firelight. At the center of the establishment were short walls that surrounded a pit on four sides where a collection of ornate braziers stood, the outsides made of steel and wrought in the shape of Magnus and his loyal followers, so to all who looked they appeared as if the flames of all the empire were within their hearts.

"May I announce you, sir?" A cultured and crisply posh voice declared, drawing Neil's attention from the splendor.

"Hmm? What?"

"You are Lord and Lady...?" The chauffeur asked expectantly. He was an elderly gentlemen, and like as not he could claim to have introduced the emperor during his childhood if he worked here as long as Neil theorized.

"Erm, I am Baron Neil von Hresvelg, and this is my date for the night, Lady..."

The Hyborian Chronicles: Of Sword and Sorcery

Despite the strange spectacle, he still watched in a mixture of fear and lust. For a moment he had worried the water hid some great serpent, but instead it held a surprise the cutthroat not been prepared for. This was why wise men did not trust sorcerers, by Dagon. She was toying with him, he angrily theorized. This would not do for the thief, and so he sprang into action. With the grace of a panther, he scaled the incline of the stones and leaped off at its highest elevation, soaring over the water to splash and land right behind the voluptuous woman, pressing his knife to her throat.

By all the gods, he should have cut her slim neck then and there, but her scent overwhelmed him just as the curves of her form pressed to his. Her beauty was even more captivating up close, but truthfully, he was more curious than anything. Why would she seek him of all the theives in Xarame, and there were very many. Amal had the strength and ferocity of an ape, palpably apparent as he wrapped his strong arm about her waist and pressed the knife to her neck, giving her just enough room to gaze into his dark shemite eyes, the smell of poorly bought alcohol on his breath.

"Do not play games with me, Witch-priestess," he said in her ear, deathly calm. The waters began to recede about them, whatever magics she intoned draining away to nothingness. "What is it you want of me? Speak any words that do not answer my question, and you are dead."

His eyes glinted in the torchlight, and she knew he was serious. Amal would not let any sorcerer or sorceress speak any arcane words to cast a spell as long as he could help it, and so he was prepared for the moment she attempted it. But as he looked at her, he added: "Speak what may please me, and you will yet live." softly. She had either cast a spell on him, or he earnestly was too curious to let the matter drop with a slit throat and a quick run from the scene. Some god wished his presence for some reason, and it may prove beneficial to know why.

Plus, he had never had stygian woman before.

Blades of the Blood Coast

Action ? So Lorcan can taunt the enemies with some miserable instant poetry and the others can start shooting!

@Fetzen

Ah the bard approach!