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| Topic Started: Wed Dec 7, 2011 6:26 am (263 Views) | |
| Spectre | Sun Dec 18, 2011 9:21 am Post #16 |
 
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In and out, up and down, here and there... The waves repeated their pattern, just adjusting how far they went slightly with each go, some waes didn't get as far as the others, some managed to touch Spectre's boots where he was standing, yet he didn't care. This was a wonderful place to be and he had no work tow orry about, nothing in the near future anyway... He would make his way back to Balefire when this encounter was done, he had that decided clearly. Despite how much he liked it out here, he needed to work... Perhaps one day he would have a home built out here so that he could always watch the waves. PErhaps it was something from his past, before even he could remember, that always brought him back to the shoreline... Maybe it was the calmness of it, the inverse of the stress that he emphasized when making his kills, working to find where most could not see or hear him, listening close to the sounds reflecting from peoples' own beating hearts. He was good at what he did because he left nothing to chance. Perhaps he was too serious when it came to his work, but he needed to do what he was paid to do... And all of this had started when he was simply in the purple-flamed place wearing a dark cloak... Randomly he had been asked to kill someone... It was a difficult job, but he did it... Several kills later he had come face-to-face with the assassin that they were actually trying to hire... Of course Spectre ultimately won and for the oddest reason at that... Not seeing gave him the advantage, because he didn't rely on the shadows, he didn't rely on light... What he banked that kill on was the heartbeat of the other assassin, who could see quite well, sacrifcing his hearing in the process. The assassin would grip his right hand into a fist, remembering that kill very well... It was his beginning as the Spectre of Death, a skilled assassin whose work came from whispers in dark alleys. He even came with his own supersition, people who spoke of him did it in hushed tones, for fear that speaking his name without a contract would surely earn their demise. He didn't even know about most of the talks people had about him, but he found it quite funny, the thought that he could be perceived as such a monster. His thoughts broke when the woman returned to him, and above the seawater he could smell the coconut she was offering him, "Thank you, J'Hael." He would say, still in his Spectre voice as he would graciously take the piece offered, the piece he ate from it seeming to disappear in the shadow of his hood. "Good coconut." He would chuckle, the food still in his mouth, showing rather poor manners... Yet he didn't care, there was no reason to be formal or intimidating. To enjoy a coconut with an acquaintence was a good way to relax. |
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| J'hael | Wed Dec 21, 2011 6:08 pm Post #17 |
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[OOC: We think alike. I created an assassin that just posted in Balefire. Her name is Kahlan Cyper. We can end this thread and start there because she needs an assassin for hire...] J'hael watched him eat. It was a strange occurrence. Hearing him laugh was another. It was actually pretty frightening, but she tried not to linger on it. She was ready to be done with this so she could continue her job as a mercenary. She needed the cash and she did not think she was getting any where with this man. "I think that I will be on my way now. You have my gratitude and my word that I will be ready when you call for me." She knew she needed to be polite. Anything less and she was bound to have her head chopped off or something worse.. "You have done a good deed today, whether you meant to or not. It is strange, the people you encounter and how it happens. I wish you luck in you.."she looked him up and down,"endeavors." She did not begin to want to think about whatever he did. She may be hired to do unpleasant jobs, but she was normally on the side of good. Yet how could you tell anymore these days? What was good to one was not to another. She made sure she had everything she would need to find her way out of the place. Her pack was soon full of coconuts. They were tasty little treats and could sustain a person for quite a while. It would be perfect to take with her. She would have to find the nearest creek and wash her hair and body off. She could hardly stand the grubby feeling she was experiencing now. It was very uncomfortable. She looked one last time at the creature that had saved her. Waving, she walked away without a glance behind her. |
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| Spectre | Sun Dec 25, 2011 1:01 pm Post #18 |
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The assassin merely listened as the woman took her leave. She was an interesting sort, no doubt burned from such exposure to the heat of day. The Spectre would give no word of farewell, no wishes of luck. And when she was gone the blind assassin found himself once more alone. To this fact he did nothing more than sigh and shrug before retuning to eating the bit of coconut he had. The woman would most likely have no way of poisoning it for surely the pirates would have taken whatever they could. Truth be told the assassin found himself rather interested in the fact that the pirates would leave her with her sword. Perhaps today's thieves of the seas were only interested in things that would sell well rather than keeping their armories well stocked. It would not take more than a moment for him to finish his food, delighting in the taste as he took pleasure in the almost musical sound of the high-tide waves washing upon the sands of the shore. What was it that drove fate to creating such encounters? A question he may never find the answer to but it was one that plagued his mind. He found no fault in questioning the way that things worked for he had done it many times in the past and had not yet found himself stricken down or hindered for his thoughts. He would begin to follow the shore South where he knew a small village to be. For him it was the perfect place to go as he quickly found a traders' caravan that was headed towards Balefire that was more than happy to allow him to ride along for a small fee. It was the way the world worked, services for money. It was the way that the mysterious blind assassin known only as the Spectre chose to work. It was merely business without any emotion and so he rarely gave it any sway over his life. Each kill played in his mind as he rode upon the back of a wagon filled with fruits; the sounds of so many a man's demise at the edge of his blade came as quietly then as it did when he first committed the acts. Perhaps his conscience did not fully appreciate his line of work but it did not often bog him down with feelings of true guilt into the matter. He had it trained to well to bother doing that. None of his clients knew how he worked and none dared to question it. For them he was a useful tool, a shadow that moved through the night and did as it was paid to do. To them he was nothing more than a Spectre of Death, a silent entity that so far held a perfect kill record. Yet only the Spectre seemed to know the truth. There was no going back, there was no slowing down and there was no rest for the wicked... Not until he shut his eyes for good. |
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6:25 PM May 22
