Homeward Bound [closed]

[Vincent.]

SPOILER: Click to show

www.youtube.com/watch?v=ifueOjZqEnA

I'll come again some stormy night

Mid-August 2012

---

Dappled, leafy shadows of overgrown trees shifted in a breeze, cast along cracked asphalt beneath the silent highway overpass. The wide mouth of a storm drain tunnel that swallowed the clear morning light seemed to sigh as a draft blew through its terminal opening, miles away somewhere. On its drift through the damp darkness, the summer air grew cold and stale, and when it found its way to the light again, was no longer quite as pleasant. Carried with the bitter breeze, the faint echo of footsteps approached the mouth of the tunnel.

A tall silhouette gradually segregated itself from the shadows inside. The young man with white hair stepped out of the darkness and into the daylight and stood idle for a moment with his hands in the pockets of his ripped black jeans. He narrowed his violet eyes as they failed to acclimate to the light quickly enough, and reached up to push dark sunglasses down onto the bridge of his nose. He sighed, unsmiling and emotionless, returned his hands to his pockets, and began walking due North on Orange Avenue.

[David B.]

OOC: Sorry for asking you for a thread, then not posting. Shits been rough.

IC:

He crouched in the brush, silent, watching, red hair covered by a soft green bandana. He blended in perfectly, his training as a Dragon Shadow in the Sky Force coming deeply into play. August was not used to this tail and wait, watch and observe. He was a former assassin, and knew stealth, but it was always to kill, not to guard or watch. Yet here he was, in Barkers territory, trying to gain intelligence. He moved out from the brush, following closely from the shadows, barely breathing, keeping to the tall grass. He would move through an alley and around the building, only to pop out in front of where the male was, about thirty feet ahead.

He wore camo gear, unzipping the front of the green and brown jacket to reveal a Dragon symbol, flexing his hands a little as he stared. He waited a moment or two before flexing his fists and smiling.

"Hello. My Name is August, and I'm gonna need to take you for questioning."

Yeah. And by take him for questioning, August mean he was gonna need to fight him. The only true question was whether the man was with Barker, and Barkers men fought a certain way. Lets find out where this went.

Stats:

Strength:15
Dexterity: 19
Constitution:23
Intelligence:13
Wisdom:21
Charisma:10

[Vincent.]

Vincent halted in the street at the sudden appearance of the stranger. His violet eyes stared coldly behind the dark shades, his demeanor unfazed, perhaps slightly annoyed at the sudden disappearance of his solitude. He regarded the emblem displayed on the man's chest and narrowed his eyes.

"You're a long way from home to be questioning me." Vincent sternly stated. He began to walk again, casually advancing directly toward the stranger on his original path as if he intended to dismiss the man. He unpocketed his hands so they were in plain sight, nothing held in them. When he came within ten feet of the stranger, however, Vincent kicked his right heel up and swiftly gripped the hilt of the knife tucked into the side of his boot. No sooner than his heel had firmly planted back into the ground, Vincent stood calm and collected with the six-inch blade ready at his side, quite prepared to wet it with the man's blood. It would come to that... but not quite yet.

"Were you following me?" he asked, his tone even and coolheaded, but definitely not friendly.

[David B.]

August wouldn't stop smiling, and as the male withdrew his hands from his pockets, his smile would widen. The white haired male would whip out his blade- as August whipped out his own. About six inches in length as well, it was slightly curved at the end, and his eyes never left the other mans.

The kid was quick, calm, collected. August liked that. Made the hunt interesting.

"So, you've already answered one of my questions- your not with Barker. Otherwise you'd be yelping for your men."

He glanced down at the knife, then back up at the males face.

"You just happened to be in my scouting zone. So yes, I was following you. What's a-" He glanced over him for some sign of a gang. There wasn't any that were obvious. "-civilian like you strutting around at this time of day?"

'Especially around a Barker outpost….'

[Vincent.]

Vincent's head tilted ever-so-slightly in an unamused manner. A pang of concern bugged him at the notion of the Dragons scouting so near to Rogue territory. Already he made mental notes to raise their own patrols and keep more eyes out for any stray Dragons, lest their territory should fall into one of these so-called scouting zones. Unacceptable.

"Looking for trouble, of course." Vincent responded, derisive but deadpan. He wasn't in the mood for putting on façades. While his authoritative demeanor may have warranted suspicion from the Dragon scout, it would be no matter in a matter of minutes. Vincent gripped the knife in his right hand so that the sleek blade extended from the bottom of his fist. A few unhurried steps directly toward the man lead into a lunge on his left foot and a vicious hook with his bladed right fist toward the scout's throat, with his left forearm thrown up in a block to guard himself against the other man's knife.

[David B.]

The kid was a little faster than him- but only just. He would need to, at first, damage the fellow where he could. Hurt him where he could. Slow him down a little. With his knife held in the exact same fashion in his right hand, August waited for the fellow to strike.

As the fist was thrown, he would step to the left, moving clockwise as he did so, bringing up his left hand to attempt to grab Vincent's forearm. He would then crouch and swipe with his arm across Vinces' leg, leaping and rolling to the left as he did so. He tried to do all these movements fluidly, though he knew the kid was faster.

Even if the kid somehow did take dodge, his leap and roll would keep him out of the kill zone. He would, after rolling, come back to his feet in a crouch, waiting for he attacker to push forward once again.

[Vincent.]

Vincent's blade didn't hit its lethal mark, stopped by the man's hand (which it may have drawn blood from if he wasn't careful where he grabbed when his hand reached for Vincent's forearm). Instants later, a razorlike but negligible pain seared across the top of his left shin, just above the top of his boot. Vincent hissed through gritted teeth and immediately lashed out with his right foot, aiming for the man's gut as he tried to leap away. The collision between man and boot (steel-toed combat boot, specifically) would most likely keep the Dragon right where he was, on the ground. Vincent would take this opportunity to draw back and violently kick him again, aiming for the gut or crotch, trying to keep him prone on the ground as long as he could.

[David B.]

August would grunt as the boot connected, sending him to the dirt on his side, facing toward his enemy. As the man kicked again, august would grab at the leg with one arm, and with the other, he would attempt to stab the man in the calf, hoping his blade would pierce clean through the muscle and pop out the other side. Leaving the blade where it was. (Should it actually stick), he would roll away from the man and back to his feet, wanting to make sure that if the guy stabbed down at him, he wouldnt be there, and the extra time it would take to remove the blade would make things difficult.

If all went according to plan, he would crouch and pul a smaller, three and a half inch blade from his boot, waiting for the man to either surrender, or attack again.

OOC: sorry for the wait

[Vincent.]

ooc: no problem, my bad as well... i have the thread bookmarked so theoretically it SHOULD be sending me notifications on posts, but it just... didn't? So i didn't notice your post for a few days xD

---

A pained snarl leapt from Vincent's throat as he felt the blade jammed through his calf, although his tough leather boots would hinder the blade's progress and if his assailant was being truly wary of the time it took to stab him, the blade would only sink in a few inches deep before the man would have let go and rolled away. As Vincent's foot planted back on the ground, a searing ache shot up through his leg to his lower spine, fireworks of pain rocketing off through the lower half of his body. The suddenness of it brought Vincent harshly to his right knee. Glaring at the Dragon with a silent snarl tugging at his lip, he switched his knife from his right to left hand and reached back with his right to grasp the hilt of the protruding blade and tug it out of his calf.

That hurt. A lot.

But now he had the man's knife… and at point-blank range with a blade, Vincent was no less a crack-shot than from hundreds of feet away with a sniper rifle. He swiftly flung the knife with an adroit and powerful flick of his wrist, the dagger point aimed for his foe's throat. If the man blocked, the blade would more than likely pierce his arm or hand or whatever he raised to protect himself, if he was faster than the flying dagger. Not a moment later, Vincent would lunge forward on his good leg to thrust his blade straight toward the man's chest with the aggressive grace of a fencer.

[David B.]

As the man would bend to retrieve the blade, August realized what he was doing. He backed away slowly, holding out his hands.

"Now look- I dont want to kill you. But you have a bum leg and can't keep up with-"

Then the kid hucked the knife. August jumped to the right, feeling a blinding pain rip through his shoulder and down his side. He stumbled a couple of steps before looking at his shoulder- luckily, no knife was stuck there. But his blades were sharp as a fucking razor, and he now had a three inch long cut along his shoulder, half an inch deep, and that bitch bled. He looked up to see the male stabbing at him, his pupils dialating. He was a foot or so from a wall behind him, and as he man stabbed he would turn left as he did before.

Only this time, he would grab with his left hand at the boys shoulder and pull/throw the man face first into the wall, or attempt to. He hoped for success, being that the male would have some manueverability issue with that leg. If it worked, August would stab the kid in the right shoulder, just between the shoulderblade and spine, right below one of his bronchiole tubes. No damage to internal organs, no killing strike. Just muscle and flesh. Using his left hand to pin the man to the wall by pressing between his shoulder blades, August would attempt to use his right hand to bring out a walkie talkie, speaking into it (unless, of course, none of this worked.)

"This is August. I need Task force three, now."

OOC: please let me know if you have any problems with any of this.

[Vincent.]

With all of Vincent's weight thrown into the lunge, he would be easily thrown toward the wall as well. His extended knife-hand hit it first and allowed him to brace for the impact, but not much. His wounded right leg dragged across the ground and curled beneath him as he was pinned, and the knife jammed into his back. Vincent gasped and collapsed a little against the wall, pain and panic and fury threatening to boil over and make things… more difficult. His shoulders tensed, trying to bear the agony for a few moments longer. He needed to escape. With the side of his face pressed against the wall, his wide violet eyes could only glare at the sidewalk for a moment as his body froze, the man behind him calling for backup. Vincent needed a moment to think. He stared. And then he saw it.

There was a manhole in the sidewalk about seven feet away.

Immediately, Vincent twisted his torso with all his strength, ramming his elbow back toward his assailant. "FFFFFUCKOFF--" If the hit was enough to knock the man back for just a moment, Vincent would continue to pivot form his position and swing his good leg around to land a strong kick wherever he could on the man's body, shoving him away. "--ASSHOLE." At that he would scramble backward toward the manhole, leaving a trail of black blood as his wounded leg dragged along the pavement. He hooked his index finger in the small hole in the metal cover to drag it off and then his lithe body would incline toward the dark opening, giving the Dragon a last hateful glance before he'd slip down into the murky darkness of the storm drain with a thud and a splash, if the man wasn't quick enough to stop him. If August had caught up to him, Vincent's free hand would grip fast to the man's shirt and attempt to drag him down into the depths as well.

[David B.]

August grunted as the kid easily shoved his arm away- not for lack of force, but just where it was centered prevented August from retaliating effectively. Then the kick sent him stumbling sideways, hitting a large dumpster. He would shake his head and return to his feet slowly as the boy glared back at him. He frowned. Now where did he think he was going-?

The kid hopped into the manhole, causing August to rush forward, just as three of the Skyforce landed heaving next to him from the sky, looking about for an intruder. August stood about three feet back from the hole, staring down.

No way in hell he was heading down there after him. The boy would have complete advantage, as he had time to hide and ambush, not to mention the light would cause Augusts' eyes to falter for a short period of time.

One of the men watch as August let out a sigh.

"Guy rabbitted. Straight down. Ill bring a full report to the Elder Dragon. You guys can follow me out as escort. Lets go."

They nodded and would follow him, August pausing only long enough to tear off a piece of cloth from his shirt and wrap his shoulder tightly before jogging off northwest, back toward Dragon territory.

OOC: i love fighting. So much fun. Thanks for the combat- having a possible death factor was amazing, and having August get beat on was fun. Enjoy my knives you took, ya crook

I rhymed...