It Begins and Ends With A Breath [Invite]

[Kyrie Blaze]

. o O ( Disclaimer: I'm giving Corey permission to attack and attempt killing Kyrie--she may die. I hope not, but-- Depending on the outcome of this thread, it will take place either before or after the Wedding of Mathew and Bastille. This thread also happens at the same time Right Step. )

img links to DA page

It was late afternoon, merging into evening. Shadows were lengthening and deepening, and Kyrie, looking at the sky for a moment, figured they would have a burning sunset. Already the sky was showing hints at the fiery beauty it would become with a little more time.

The blonde reached up and lightly rubbed the side of her neck, pondering a moment with a wary glance around. With a soft breath - more a sigh - she continued her trek at a jog, heading deeper into Neutral Territory, looking for places that had possibly carried seeds, that may still have some despite the ravaging and ransacking that had gone on for a few years, now.

She'd given the sketch-drawings of measurements and designs to some of the Dragon smithies that could actually create what she needed. Her projects were going well; she'd already gotten the initial latticework done on several new locations, and she was looking forwards to having Mathew work the rich loam from deep under the surface, above. Her pack was slung comfortably over one shoulder, and her gaze was bright, always listening. Always watchful.

[David B.]

Ahead of the girl, an old man sat against a wall. Next to him, was a duffle-bag. It was empty. On the other side of him was what appeared to be an old record player, and he was singing in a high, frail voice, the Chorus of a song.

"Do You Realize - Oh - Oh - Oh
Do You Realize - that everyone you know
Someday will die -

And instead of saying all of your goodbyes - let them know
You realize that life goes fast
It's hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun doesn't go down
It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round"

As Kiyr got closer, he got quieter, the record slowing as it neared the end of the song. It would skip before letting out silence, the old man groaning as he got to his feet. She would be several steps past him now. He would shuffle out into the street, smiling.

"Ms. Barrial? You are Kiyr Barrial, correct?"

He knew she was. He studied her face for weeks. He would shuffle forward a little more, shadows waving under his steps.

"Well, Ms.Barrial, My name is Frederick Donald Amberhash. I'm going to take your life today."

He said this all with a very sweet smile.

[Kyrie Blaze]

Kiyr's keen ears picked up the white noise and then the melody on her approach. She felt the hairs along the back of her neck rise. Paranoia, most likely, but, she wasn't about to discount it. Such feelings had saved her plenty of times before. But she could act like there was nothing wrong. With quietly projected confidence, she continued to walk though, unwavering.

If she were to stop every time she felt a twinge, she would have just stayed home beneath her bed.

The niggling sensation persisted, gnawing and clawing at her awareness as the old man sang in his high voice, his tone frail. The omens - though she was no longer religious, she still felt there were things that couldn't be explained - weren't good. So when the song ended and the old man spoke, calling out, she didn't pause.

She did, however, turn and take several steps backwards.

Her first instinct was to only see the frailty in this old man, despite his threat. But her eyes quickly hardened and focused; it would be foolish to consider the elder man to be weak.

'...creepy creep creeper creepcreepcreepin'.'

She could act like he was nothing, project an image when she was anything but cocky and overconfident. Her mind urged her into shadow, but she resisted, especially upon catching sight of the tendrils of shadow that shifted around where he stepped.

"Mister Amberhash, I believe you are mistaken. The only life to take is your own."

She spoke calmly, clearly, adjusting her bag and stepping lightly to the side. Her stance was nothing short of confidence, and she almost seemed to look down her nose at him. Her hands, however, flexed subtly, and she listened for sounds of an accomplice. Assuming this man was frail and weak was just as bad as assuming he was alone.

She raised her hands, one palm held upright, elbow close to her center line, about a fist away from her body; her right fist held up, pulled back. She had a few ideas, but wasn't in a position to try and pick up the item, just yet.

[David B.]

The old man giggled, before crouching- he did so quickly, with agusto. Bones cracked, he stood just as quickly, cracking his neck and back before standing straight. He hopped from foot to foot, rolling his head from side to side, humming the song that ended.

"Do you know how many girls i've killed? I pick them special, kuz when they die the horror and emotion on their face is just...amazing. Way better than a boy."

He would dart forward, diving toward the girl before landing on his feet in front of her in a crouch, where he would spin and attempt to take her off her feet in a standard leg sweep, giggling and saying the same words as he did so.

"You're gonna die you're gonna die you're gonna die-"

Stats:

Strength: 28
Dexterity: 31
Constitution: 28
Intelligence: 28
Wisdom: 28
Charisma: 33

[Kyrie Blaze]

"Why, no. I can not say I do know."

Her tone held the hint of sarcasm, and almost boredom, though she didn't look away; a slow breath inward, and one out. He was trying to unnerve her--and it was working, just a little, but she forced her thoughts away. She needed a clear head for this. Her legs spread out, knees bending slightly.

She couldn't help but note she suddenly felt very tall in comparison to him--it only added to his deceiving appearance.

So when he sprang forwards she was coiled, and as he crouched, she used his leg as one might a skipping rope: and skipped over the leg sweep, tucking her legs high and landing on the balls of her feet before her heels planted, and she used her right leg for a basic front heel kick with her right foot, the leg unfurling with a snap at the knee. Her heel's target: his face, hoping to kick him back and perhaps break his nose.

. o O ( Stats:

Strength: 28
Dexterity: 31
Constitution: 28
Intelligence: 28
Wisdom: 28
Charisma: 33 )

[David B.]

The old man, when she jumped, would still be witness to it as he was facing her. Now, this grumpy old fred fella was experienced- if ever there was a combat situation, he had probably been a part of it at one point or another. So as she jumped, he would use the leg still bent to jump after her, throwing out an elbow in an attempt to hit her in the gut and wind her.

If that worked, he would use his left hand to attempt to grab her by the back of the hair, while his right hand would attempt to repeatedly punch her in the neck, fingers hard and stiff, in the hopes of closing her throat and suffocating her.

"You're gonna die you're gonna die you're gonna die-"

[Kyrie Blaze]

..!

There was no time to blink as he came at her, both legs snapping out in an attempt to both kick him back and gain distance--though indeed his elbow connected. It didn't matter to her if her feet connected to his stomach or legs, but she twisted her body quickly as she sprang off him and into a roll.

She twisted after the initial roll, hand-springing back up to her feet, working on recovering her breath even now.

Well wasn't this interesting..?

She tuned the sing-song intonation of those three words out, not wanting to listen, to be distracted.

She circled, angling to move back the way she had came, though her lips drew into a smirk. Very slight, but still there. A breath in.

And one out.

[David B.]

The old man giggled- before drawing out a knife as she backed away. He would move forward slowly, and once close enough would spit in her face before attempting to go low and slash her hamstrings.

"Blood blood blood..."

[Kyrie Blaze]

'Make it rain.'[/i] She thought, shaking her head, backing away with her rear leg shuffling after pushing off with her front leg, hands up to guard positions once again. But as he spit, a hand came up to block some of it as she swept her body in a side-step--her opposite hand grasping a ball of shadow that quickly shaped itself into a baton she used to crack in a downwards sweep against his knife-wrist, sweeping her forward foot to the side, pivoting to face him, but always moving back towards the record player and bag.

Time to test a theory, though getting caught by the knife wasn't something she wanted, and thus she would continue to attempt evading. If he managed to cut her hamstrings, she was as good as a sitting duck.

She hadn't tried to launch an attack as of yet, concentrating on trying to maintain as little effort as she could.

And she stayed quiet.[/font]

[David B.]

The old man's hand would be knocked aside, but his other hand would shoot forward, palm toward Kiyr. In his palm was a ball of shadow as well- but his own would explode like a grenade before reaching the girl, taking the shadows from around her to blow Kiyr away. Doing this consumed less energy than forcing the ball to give the force, and the old man would not seem to miss a beat.

Chasing after the female, he would attempt to stab downward at her with the knife when she landed, his blade likely piercing the shoulder or arm.

[Kyrie Blaze]

"Uhn!"

Pushing up with a twist to try to minimize the area the knife hit - turning it to a slash instead of piercing so he couldn't twist and jerk the knife out, causing more damage - Kiyr used her the outside edge of her hand and then forearm to drive his knife hand away. Her opposite foot to that arm would rise and strike out for his inside knee, looking to make him stumble, keeping her arm connected to his.

If she was successful, she would plant her foot once again and thrust her open palm for the inside of his knife arm's elbow, her other forearm sliding towards his wrist so she could grasp it and attempt to twist it into a trap and disarm him.

[David B.]

Fred would, rather than fight the girl tit for tat, release the knife which would vanish into his shadow, like a pouch. He would bring the arm back, far too happy with her bleeding shoulder cut (which would be about a quarter inch deep) to press it. Rolling off her and out of reach to the side, he would stand and smirk, rolling his shoulder.

"Y'know, they tell us to watch out, that the Dragons and Crows are some of the strongest in this country but... I can't say i'm buying it. You are sooo weak. and not just physically- You can't even get your own allegiances in order, can you, girl?"

A giggle.

"Mathew or David... Fight or flight... A name or your family...you swear oaths but you don't keep any of theml... Sheesh... No wonder everyone finds you such a disappointment. You don't even really know who you are... It's almost sad..."

Another laugh.

"Cmon then girly...let me see what you got."

[Kyrie Blaze]

Her youth was just as much of a liability as it was an asset, at this point, though she felt it was starting to edge more into weakness than strength. She didn't mind being called weak - the point was to constantly underestimate her, just like it must have been with him - but the second topic he broached hit a little harder.

Her eyes widened in response.

She'd been mocked before. Another phantom of her past that crawled out of the woodwork. He'd mocked her, stating she'd never be one of them, never be seen as 'family'...and tried to convince her to sway to him, to join with him. And the attempts on her life? She'd encountered three so far, including this; the first had been the most shocking.

Simply because he'd been close to her, in some sense.

She didn't retaliate with words. The blonde didn't feel she needed to. She understood her reasoning, and came to the conclusion she was only human, and just as liable to be swayed and make mistakes as any other. Why she did what she had done after? Those were her own reasons, and she had no intentions of sharing them with him.

But Kyrie, now, stared a moment, using her body to both lie and tell the truth--as any good actor will tell you the secret, if they deign to share: the trick isn't to act. She was egging him on silently even as she turned and burst for the old vinyl player, almost seeming to flee in a burst of panic. She kept her face angled, though, attempting to be able to see behind her unless there were intact windows that offered some kind of reflection. The girl crashed into the player, using the movement to conceal her motion to break the arm of the needle off, even as she snatched the record with her other hand, springing away from the wreckage.

She lifted her hands, tucking the slender needle to a more concealed position in her hands, seeming to use the record as if it were a shield, as if it would save her: needing him to believe she was truly afraid of him and of dying. On the inside, however, she was simply calm with her resolve and determination. She was good at improvising, changing course and direction. For now, she remained out of the shadows...though they were ever-lengthening and ever-deepening.

A silent count down to when their shared domain would dominate their area.

'N-No."

[David B.]

He giggled as she ran.

"Trying to leave? Okay...How about I find your friends and kill them instead? Amtrums little girls might be fun...Or perhaps the Hikari child...what was her name?"

He watched her smash into the record player, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet before continuing.

"You are smart...sneaky and smart. But I'm not some child on your playground, girlie...I just don't think you have what it takes to use those weapons adequately."

He would lurch forward, running at her before sliding along the ground and stopping, five feet away, to point with his hand like a gun, smiling.

"Bang."

From his shadow the knife would hurtle- directly for her neck. Even if she dodged to the side, it would likely embed in a shoulder, and at that speed, if she ducked or stepped back, it would stick into her forehead. Jumping would put it in her stomach- and she had so unwisely stepped away from the shadows.

He would following after the knife, using it also to pull her attention as he would kick at the front of her left knee in an attempt to snap it harshly.

[Kyrie Blaze]

His taunting words caused a burst of fierce protectiveness to raise its head inside of her. There was a difference between stating he'd killed girls before and threatening her family. It was perhaps one of the most unwise taunts anyone, ever, could use with her.

Her eyes darkened as he came in.

Everything within the past minute or so had been designed to draw him in, to give him confidence and inflate his ego. She didn't know whether she had accomplished it, exactly, but she had to change her course.

And the record's apparent original intent would come into play: she lifted both hands - the record between them - to cause the knife to slam into it and snap it in half as she stepped and lowered herself to the side. Even if it broke through, much of the momentum and force behind it would be lost. She continued: sweeping herself low into a sideways roll, but launched herself for him, nimbly, after. He hadn't caught her in a full-blow to the knee, though he still had struck a hard enough glancing blow. It hurt and throbbed, but she bore the pain and pushed through it.

Her foot hit his shadow and she dissipated, a hand with the record shooting up to hamstring him, should she have managed to surprise him.