From Inktober 2016.Didn’t get around to scan this until recently. Enjoy!
Peter Solarz
art blog(derogatory)
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
No title available
taylor price

Andulka

roma★

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almost home
Stranger Things
Xuebing Du
tumblr dot com
Misplaced Lens Cap
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
wallacepolsom

Discoholic 🪩
No title available

Janaina Medeiros
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
hello vonnie

seen from China

seen from Denmark
seen from United States

seen from Singapore
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Italy
seen from Greece

seen from Malaysia

seen from Belgium
seen from United States
seen from Poland
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seen from United States

seen from Denmark

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
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seen from United States

seen from United States
@bladeofthemists
From Inktober 2016.Didn’t get around to scan this until recently. Enjoy!
Daddy’s Little Girl
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to the bar."
"Can I come?"
"No."
"I WANNA COOOOOOOOME!"
"No, it's not safe there." He lies.
"We'll be safe together! Like when I burninated the bad lady!"
"Burni-what?"
"Burninate! Uncle Migi taught me that word!"
"That's not a real wo-whatever. You're staying here with Mom. She can keep you safe."
"But it's booooooring!"
"You're calling Tak boring?"
"Yes! I wanna go with yooooooooooou!"
"Well, when I come back, I'm going to tell Mom what you said about her." He turns from her to depart.
"No!" She grabs his leg and flops on the ground.
Jian sighs, and keeps walking. She tries to hold onto his leg, a dead weight. He scoots his legs, heading out of the estate. She loses her grip and starts throwing a tantrum.
Fearing for elemental retribution, he quickly picks her up. "Oh gods...okay! Okay! I'll take you to the bar."
Instantly the tears end. "Yay!"
He murmurs, "Fuckin' swear Toshiro's laughing in his grave..."
The Wolf’s Legacy (IV)
It became exceedingly difficult to recall the last dozen human bounties Jian had done after a sharp throbbing migraine and a few hours receiving lashes from an over-eager inquisitor. The justicar of the camp watched the session as he prods into Jian’s memories.
“Do you confess the murders of Initiate Cerath Cravenstone, Savant Juliean Voss, late High Inquisitor Alaric and those from his estate?” The inquisitor repeats himself.
Jian remains silent with eyes shut tightly, fighting the mental probing and slowly losing ground. Another crack and another cry of pain. Chains rattle as blood oozes from his newly opened gashes. He coughs.
“I...confess.”
The justicar folds his arm, “Impressive specimen. It would take a day or two to break a man, but you, despite mental scarrings from mesmers you’ve slain years ago, took four days.”
Jian grunts as his face is grabbed by his chin and forces to look at the bald, pale man with dark eyes with a cruel smile.
“What are you, Omega? What sort of demonic powers do you possess?”
The justicar only receives a spit filled with blood. He withdraws his hand and motions the inquisitor to continue. Jian gives out of guttural cry.
“Fuck! I confessed to the murders!”
“Yes you did, but this is an interrogation, subject Omega. We’ve many questions about your powers and your family.”
“I don’t know,” He pants, cringing from the sharp stings. “I know jack shit of my family!”
“Nothing? Are you certain?” The justicar attempts to prod again into Jian’s memories. “That time in the Mists…”
The man grimaces, “I don’t remember anything from that.” “I know you don’t, but your mind says something else. Those dogs that saved you from death aren’t just random mist wolves. They are your family. When one of your members pass away, their spirit transforms into wolves to guide other lost souls to the Mists.”
“What?”
“However, you are different. Your soul left your body, but it somehow returned. I’ve figured that the original soul of the demon your bloodline worshipped has possessed you.”
Jian’s silence neither denies nor confirms his statement, but he continues.
“Yes, and it’s quite a discovery to learn you’ve descended from a mist entity.”
“And you’ve descended from a bald prick.” He seethingly retorts.
The justicar scowls and yanks Jian’s hair back. Jian looks up into his eyes and feels a sharp pain in the back of his head, simmering down his spine. He felt every nerve in his body on fire, and Jian could only give out of silent scream before slumping against his chains, dazed.
The bald man lets go of Jian, leaving him hanging. As he turns to leave the room, he looks over at the Inquisitor.
“Do not return him to his cell. He’s to stay here for his repentance. Keep him awake even if he tries to sleep.”
“For how long, sir?” “A fortnight.”
“You are aware that it might kill him?”
“It might, but I’m certain it might reveal something extraordinary.”
The justicar is somewhat wrong in his prediction. It took three days when the White Mantle camp erupts into a spectacular blue fury of flames. A creature in the fire takes the shape of a wolfish silhouette as it reaches its claw into the sky and summoning a large, ghostly blue greatsword. The sword impales the center of the camp; the shockwave obliterates everything in its path.
A moment later all is quiet. The blue flames have all been snuffed by the shockwave. The wolf creature simply disappears in a forlorn howl, leaving behind the smoldering ashes of what was left of the camp.
(Concept Art by Arenanet)
Oops. [video]
And here we see Yi’s pet snow leopard, Jing, playing with a ball.
“Hrm?” Jian peers at a small box sitting on his bed. The wrapping glimmers from the warm fire of the fireplace Takara is tending to. Matai sits next to her to provide the flames with great childish vigor.
Picking it up, he reads the tag addressed to him: Don’t go barking up the wrong tree.
Merry Wintersday!
- Dalia
“Barking up the wrong-? What madness is she speaking of?” He rips away at the wrapping paper, and flips open the top of the box. Jian sits down to observe the contents. Inside lay a large package that smell of chocolate fudge, hastily written for Takara. Underneath the brick lies a black leather belt far too small for a human waist, but far too large for a human wrist. A small, detachable link of chain connected the belt to a longer strip of leather that ended in a loop.
“Is this a dog collar? We don’t have a dog.” He holds out the collar to show his wife just as Matai quickly snatches the collar from his hands. Takara’s eyes widen with surprise, startled by Matai’s reaction.
“Matai! No!”
“But, it’s a collar, daddy! For my doggie!” She fumbles with the buckle and puts it around Jian’s neck, ignoring his stunned face.
“Did-? Oh no...she didn’t.”
Takara looks at him for a bit, and give him a guilty smile. “...it looks rather hot.”
“Well...err…” Jian tugs on his new accessory. “It might take awhile to get used to…”
“Well, you did say you wanted to try something new for Wintersday...”
“That I did... That I did.”
(Leather Collar ref @tyrianadventureleague)
The Wolf’s Legacy (III)
“That’s the last time I’m taking Jian’s advice.” Yi grumbled as he yanked at his wrists, which were wrapped in blood red chains. Channeling his inner self to break free, he found that they sapped away his reserves, glowing a fierce red. Bloodstone-infused bindings, forged to contain magically dangerous foes of the White Mantle; they figured the Headhunter of Lion’s Arch is one of these dangerous foes.
He was close, very close, to find the man that killed his brother’s parents. The preparations to infiltrate were nearly solid, from crafting the Headhunter armor of his late brother to painting the scars on his face. It wasn’t unknown if the White Mantle was aware of his brother’s loyalty, but it was a fact he rather risk before the opportunity of justice slips away.
However, he paid dearly for it.
They let him in easily, as invitation to discuss of a mercenary contract to assassinate a Shining Blade supporter and steal his supplies. Yi was a fool to believe Jian would accept the contract as his brother previously took the contract to kill his boss, Lord Toshiro Kimura. His eagerness gave his client suspicions, followed by simple questions that gave doubt. He was led down a few corridors decorated with red, gold, and white motifs.
Upon meeting a smiling man adorned in white garments and golden tassels with a red tabard marked with the White Mantle insignia, he found himself surrounded by armored knights with blood red swords styled similar to the ones he unsheathed, but corrupted with bloodstone slivers along the unsharpened edge.
He fought his way out of the room, but met a wall of clones, waiting to be shattered to inflict insurmountable pain. In surrender, he dropped his knife, and then his sword as they bound him and knocked him out.
The pulsing red light peeking from his window annoyed him, and he shifted his shackled body for a peaceful comfort. It won’t be long before they come to question him, his ties to his brother, and soon Lord Kimura. They will probably kill him afterward, probably give Jian his head as a gift. He was not looking forward to the torture before his death, and there were quite a few milestones in his life he regretted to fall short.
Footsteps stopped at his door. Bolts clacked and slid across metal, and the door sung open. The smiling man he met prior to his capture greeted him with a kick into his side and a harsh tug of his pony tail. Yi let out an angered whimper as the guard took him out for his first round of interrogations.
Gods dammit Jian.
(ref Prison 4 by emingokkurt)
The Wolf’s Legacy (II)
Feeling the cold reaching his joints, Yi knows he’s short on time to deliver the news. Once winter hits, the heavy snow will block the passage to Haymal Gore. During the winter, supplies will have to be dropped by air in order to reach the village. Aerial delivery is not cheap, so the village resorts to transport by dolyak, headed by Jian to protect them. And he’ll won’t see him again until spring.
Reaching the Wolf Lodge where he is temporarily staying, Yi finds him hauling oblong paper packages. Nostrils flaring, probably recognizing the earthly dirt mixed with ash scent, Jian turns and blinks with surprise.
“Yi? What are you doing here?”
Words scatters in his brain, and he tries to put it all together as he spoke. Remembering the blades wrapped in parchment, he places them into Jian’s calloused palms.
“I’m here to return this to you.” “Oh? I thought Toshy would be yanking my chain with another mission. He should know by now that I do this routine every year. And this year’s especially hard; I can sense Jormag’s influence creeping really close to home.” He rips through the parchment and gazes as his newly polished sword. The red, leather wrapped handle smells new, tanned from the hide of a cow slain a month ago. The guard shines soft golden glow, a far cry from the tarnished, dull orichalcum of the past. The the waves on the edge has been restored. Pressing his finger on the blade, blood oozes from the tip. His family seal is clean from the grime, dirt, and dried blood.
“Well, actually-”
“You’ve put a lot of effort into fixing this. I thought I lost this sword in the Mists.” “The Mists spat it out when the portal collapsed. I’ve worked on the sword while you were gone, to remember you. Now…”
“I’m alive, now.” Jian curiously opens the second package and changes the subject, “I don’t own this knife.”
“It’s not your knife. I took it from a bandit.”
“It has my parent’s seal on it. What’s it doing on a bandit?” Yi hears malice growing from his voice.
“I’ve snuck in a few camps, as well as a centaur camp. There were more that has the symbol, and I believe that your parent crafted them while they were at the centaur prison camp. A few evidence points to some ministers with connections with the White Mantle.”
Jian fiddles with his blindfold in discomfort; a sight Yi still has not gotten used to. “So, my parents are traitors to the Queen?”
“They were pardoned after their deaths and your rescue. Didn’t you not remember?”
“I have a million things right now on my mind. Minor details of the past isn’t something worth giving a rat’s ass.”
Yi tosses Jian a circular, metal badge with a staff and a sword crossed over like an X.
“Well, my boss has given permission investigate these ministers and flush them out. You can put your sword into practice like the good old times.”
Jian stares at the badge, feeling the burden of the history behind it. After a long look at the supplies piling behind him, he hands it back to Yi, as well as the sword and the knife.
“Yeah, that chapter’s closed. The Headhunter’s dead.”
“You are still a Son of Wrath.” Yi sputters with surprise.
“The Headhunter was an agent, but I’m Jian now.” He tosses the packages of dolyak meat into an open crate. “And I’ve got a kid to look after.”
“You’ve changed since coming back from the Mists and the hellhole of a jungle. Are you really the man that was with me before that happened? The man that I slit palms with? The man who went to prison for nearly assassinating my boss, and then got contracted to carry his tasks? The man who, at first, took his daughter’s maidenhood to spite him, but wound up falling in love with her?”
With a long, tired sigh, Jian gives him no reply as he walks past him in silence, heading out of the lodge to gather more supplies. Yi barks at him, frustrated with the outcome of the meeting.
“What am I going to say to your father-in-law?”
“You don’t have to, Yi. I impersonated you a few times. You can do the same”
And there it is. The reminiscent smirk.
The Wolf’s Legacy (I)
As the lord’s candle is blown out, the household is silent. The guards on duty remained still under the light of the moon. The crickets has quieted their chirps, and the pond surface turned smooth as glass. A flickering, pale light remains in the barracks where the guards go to shower, sleep, or study. The light dims as Yi puts down a recently cleaned blade; its edge reflects a strong light off a candle. He works diligently at the age of disuse that covered the sword. It has been almost three years since it had been used by anyone, as the last owner decided to save everyone but himself from being claimed by the Mists. Yi sighs, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Jian’s return has been a surprise to him, but he kept the questions to himself, as well as his blade. Someday, he will rid of any doubts that the man behind the blindfold is still the boy he grew up with. Clearing an engraving from the hilt, he turns his attention to a shorter sword, dirtied and neglected of care for many years. It was a long while since he picked it off a bandit who decided to bring his gang to steal supplies from the caravan Yi was entrusted to escort and protect. His friends fled, but he wasn’t so lucky. As Yi settled on giving him a fair burial, his interest peaked at the familiarity his opponent’s sword. Dabbing his cleaning cloth into a bowl, he begins his work near the hilt to confirm his suspicions. Jian was a bitter man back when he finally found him, drinking, womanizing, and killing with impunity. He remembers that flash of the blade and the song that follows as it cleanly cuts through flesh. When the poor bandit brandished his sword awkwardly, the song it sang brought familiarity to him, even though it was interrupted by two arrows to the chest. The rust soon disintegrates from his cleaning cloth, and he bring the blade to the light of the dying candle. The engraving matches the the one on Jian’s sword. Yi sits back, putting the sword down. He sighs, “Look like I would need to visit my ‘brother’.”
(Katana by Sabbie89)
OC Outfit Doodle Asks
Send one of the following symbols and one of my OC’s names and I’ll doodle:
👀 OC in their typical underwear 💤 OC in their sleep attire 🔞 OC in something sexy 🏄 OC in what they would wear to the beach/pool 👔 OC in what they would wear to a formal event (such as a wedding) ☠ OC in what they would wear to a funeral 👖 OC in what they would wear to a casual event (such as a birthday party) 👑 OC dressed as royalty 🚪 OC in what they wear when lounging around at home 💕 OC in what they would wear on a first date ❌ OC in something they would absolutely never wear 🎃 OC in a costume they’d wear for Halloween 🎄 OC in an ugly Christmas sweater 🚓 OC in a prison uniform 🚲 OC in athletic gear 🐰 OC in a kigurumi of their favourite animal ❄ OC in what they’d wear on a very cold day 🔥 OC in what they’d wear on a very hot day 👕 OC in a T-shirt with something stupid printed on it (think Zazzle) 🎭 OC in another OC’s typical attire 📦 OC wearing something that isn’t clothes (such as a fig leaf, a barrel, etc.) 👻 OC in a really bad disguise 📷 OC in a stereotypical tourist getup 🙎 OC in something embarrassing 👗 OC in something from the 50’s 💀 OC in goth/emo/scene attire 💃 OC in some radical 90’s clothes 🌁 OC in a hoodie 🌋 OC in camping or adventuring gear ♠️ OC in their armor (or in some sort of fantasy armor if not applicable to their story) 🎨 OC in a cartoon character’s outfit 🏨 OC in a maid outfit 🏥 OC in a nurse uniform 🐑 OC in farmer wear 👍 OC in a crop top
I feel in the mood.
Jian: You are the worst drinking buddy ever.
Yi: And you *hic* are not my brother. Jian: How much have you drank? Yi: Jssssh one. Jian: One bottle? Yi: One ssshayyoot. Hahaha.
That Wolf Tattoo
A moan escaped his lips as he stirred from another drunken sleep. His head popped out of the snow, looking around to see norn and dolyak walking about. Snowfall had waned as the sun peaked through the clouds, illuminating the dark hardwood beams decorated with bronze.
Hoelbrak. He blacked out in Hoelbrak.
Shifting around, he realized that most of his casual wear had gone amiss.
Naked. He blacked out in Hoelbrak, naked.
A familiar whimper emanated from beneath the snow next to him. Patting away the snow, Jian uncovered Yi shivering in his sleep. He, too, was lacking clothes save for a pair of black linen shorts.
Yi. He blacked out in Hoelbrak, naked, with Yi.
Rubbing his temples, he tried to recall last night’s events as he sits up.
---
A large bottle of whiskey and a pair of shot glasses rested in front of Yi. He turned to see his other self with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.
“What is it?”
“A proper celebration between the both of us, my dearest. A reunion worthy of a hard drink, brother!”
“Okay, Jian. I know we do look alike, but that doesn’t mean we’re brothers by blood.” He grumbled, turning away.
“Oh come on! It’s fate we look the same; we’ve must be separated at birth, and our parent’s kept it a secret.” With a wolfish grin, he tilted the bottle over to pour both of them a drink.
“You know, Jian. You’re crazy.”
---
Prodding him awake, Yi moans. “Remind me to never drink with you again.”
Jian chuckled, throwing loose snow at him. “Oh it wasn’t that bad, light-weight.”
“I felt like a norn and a charr decided to double-team and I got the receiving end.” Yi shook the snow from his head.
“I’d love to see that happen to you…I mean…me?” He corrected the comment as Yi threw a death glare at him.
“Though, last night was painful. Did we fight a bear or something?” He groaned, rubbing his right shoulder. He paused, feeling a large cloth bandage draped over his shoulder blade. A memory surfaced from his subconscious, and he turned towards Jian; mouth agape.
---
The norn artist stared at the drunk, obnoxious human twins and shrugged, pointing at the weaving and tribal symbols with pricing on parchment paper that was hung for his customers. Jian shook his head, pulling out a piece of paper of his own, which bore a picture of a pair of fiery wolves. Yi stared, nearly dropping the half-empty glass of firewater.
“You’re kidding, right?”
Jian chuckled. “You and I are brothers. We must look similar. And I want a wolf tattoo.”
His other-self lowered his head, quiet for a moment while Jian slapped his shoulder. “So! Where do you want it? Shoulder, back, arm, leg, rear, groin?”
Yi paled at the later options as he belched. “I… did not agree to a tattoo…ugh… Jian. A tabard would be nice.”
“Too late.” Jian hollered at the norn, who’s busy cleaning the needles. He slapped down a few copper instead of gold. “This pussy’s would like one on his ass.”
The norn rolled his eyes and nodded, wondering about the poor mother who gave birth to these hooligans, “And you?”
“Where ever makes me look better than him.”
“Hrm…ladies do prefer a man with markings on the shoulder blades.” The artist raised his burly eyebrow, as he picked up the copper coins.
“Done!” In a flash, his shirt was off with scars showing. Yi stepped back.
“Whoa! What…?”
“What are you waiting for? Pants off.” Jian haphazardly waved at Yi’s breeches; the bottle of whiskey nearly empty in his hand.
---
Jian and Yi sat still, facing each other. The actions of their previous night soon dawned on them. Jian briskly stood up and met aching pain radiating from his left side of his rear. He lamented; his hand covering his face partly in shame.
“Yi.”
“How much did we pay the tattoo guy?”
Skeletons in the Closet
1327 Zephyr 75
It was a risky contract, but my foolish brother agreed. I do not know what possessed him. Perhaps he did it for the money or out of pride. Whatever the reason, it was not worth it.
“The area is collapsing, hurry!” Yi yelled at Jian, who was busy defending the portable asuran gate from a slender, wispy creature. The staff it held was solid black; it reflected no light. The strange staff consumed everything it touched, except the burning flames of Jian’s sword.
“J-just go!” The hunter gritted his teeth, holding back the enraged creature’s staff from trying to kill him outright. Yi had better leave, as he could feel his reserves empty of magic.
“I can’t leave you here!” His brother barked back. “Your wife will kill me!”
“Well, tell her that I’m sorry-dammit!” His aegis broke, and he slid backwards from the force, nearly tripping himself from loose debris. The ground beneath him crumbled as he slowly rose up with a hardened face. The creature floated over to the cornered man and raised its dark staff to finish him off.
“Jian!” Yi took a few steps forward to aid his brother, only to be deterred by the uneven ground collapsing around the portal. With eyes locked, he knew that his cries won’t help Jian. Stepping backwards, he retreats through the portal just as it flickers closed.
With a final roar, Jian drove his sword through the entity, and the ground fell away at their feet.
He wanted to prove himself that even though he was the most feared headhunter in Tyria, he could still be a hero.
“Huuahhh….” A gasp left his lips, in response to a wave of pinpricks washing over him
He wasn’t sure if he’s dead or alive. Whatever the state he’s in, he wished that the pain would just go away. Debris shuddered as he tried to pick himself up, but his body refused to move.
Seeing pale blue silhouettes dancing in his peripheral vision, his eyes slowly shifted to a pack of blue, misty wolves scavenging the cloudy remnants of what used to be the area he and his team investigated before the strange Mist entity attacked them. Disabled and dying, he silently prayed that they would find him and finish him off painlessly.
“H-help...help me…” The wolf’s ears perks up, and it turns. Blue flames clouds his vision as he reaches out desperately in hopes that it could hear him. A cool feeling grew from his arm where the ghost-like being touched with its nose, but soon his vision blacks out.
But what point is being a hero if he’s not here with us?
“You’re having that fit again.”
“Yeaah-ahh choo!” Another spirit weapon hits the wooden floor, denting the soft surface. A quiet sigh left a middle-aged man as he gets up from his zabuton to search through his belonging in a drawer. Jian groans, lying on the soft, firm bed of his host’s room. “So you went to the jungle to track down Sciath.” “Aye.” He sniffs, rubbing his irritated nose.
“And got hit by some sort of lightning?” The long-bearded man takes out a dull, blue crystal from a dark, leather pouch. “Was following a trail from my pup, and then next thing I knew, I was lying down, getting overwhelmed by all sorts of magic.” “And threw up an army’s worth of mist weapons.” He gestures at the growing pile. There are large shields, swords, spears, and bows, all ghostly translucent yet manifested a soft blue glow.
“You know how this goes, Yi.” Jian grunts, “I need that core.”
“Not going to steal it like last time, Headhunter?” “Could you imagine me going through a sneezing fit in front of my three-year-old daughter? She’s gonna hurt herself.” Yi rolls his green eyes. “Yet you left her with me to babysit, and she decided to cut my hair.” “Huh, that’s cute.” “...with fire.” “Oh, you didn’t tell me about that.” “I told your wife while you went into the jungle to rescue your babysitter. If I were to tell you, you’d give your daughter praise instead of discipline.” Yi hands the hunter the dull crystal. “Go home and rest until your fit passes, then return the core.”
“Thanks, brother.” Jian smirks.
12.) How is your character with technology? Super savvy, or way behind the times?
Jian is not technologically savvy and severely lag behind on new developments, but he does not care much to learn as long as others are around to help him get any sort of job done, such as Aetherblade-hunting.
Demons VII - Blood Runs Stale
The contender in the pit galloped around the ring with its sword and hide-covered shield, spurring the crowd with excitement. The herald trumpeted, introducing Sarang the Trampler. The dark-colored centaur threw its long head back with pride in its strength and battle prowess as it trotted to the middle of the arena. Soon, the announcer signaled Sarang's challenger, and the audience went silent.
Taereus tilted her head as the gates opened, quietly enjoying a small appetizer of Ascalonian salad.
The Headhunter stepped out from the darkness; green eyes narrowed from the bright sunlight. A dark shawl covered half his face. A leather harness now decorated his bare chest with a simple iron longsword strapped behind his back. Bandaged hands gripped the handle.
Strange? Discarded his armor for none? She wondered suspiciously as the women next to her squabbled.
“Look at his ugly scars!”
“He looks frightening, Taereus! How'd you managed to arrest him?”
“He's so thin. I'd imagine him to be a bit thicker.”
“I don't know about you, girls, but he's attractive...in a mysterious way.”
She said nothing, eyes focused onto the Canthan, who looked past his opponent and returned the glance. A flush rose to her cheeks, and she quickly stuffed it with a slice of Charr-raised beef steak.
Sarang taunted him as he circled the human. “Your puniness mocks me. I expected a larger opponent.”
“And what cruel fate that I'm paired with a centaur for my first opponent. You must have known about me, I remember some centaur calling me the Blight of the Tamini.”
The centaur paused, then laughed. “Then I'll consider it an honor to make you suffer for butchering my kin.”
“Good, then let's dance.”
And so they danced with a whirl of steel and flesh. The centaur was relentless, but the Headhunter was nimble and quick. He weaved in and out, turning his blade to block or parry, tiring Sarang out. It did not take long until blood was drawn, and the crowd cheered. Sarang snorted, shaking off droplets of blood from his thick flank.
“Tch. Such a minor cut from someone like you.”
“I'm only getting started.” The Headhunter heaved.
Feet scuffled and slid around the red sands, tainted with blood of previous combatants. Hooves stomped to and fro, followed by a rear kick to the Headhunter's side. Wheezing, he staggered back, feeling his side. Cracked ribs and a bruised kidney. He was not looking forward to pissing blood for a few days. Sarang neighed, charging towards him like an angry dolyak. He slipped to the side, parrying the blade. Ducking down, he slammed his pommel against the centaur's knee.
Sarang stumbled mid-charge, legs and weapons flying in all directions. He tried to get up, but the sharpened end of Hunter's sword met his throat. Seeing the blade rising, he bowed his head, surrendering.
The Headhunter dug his blade against the side of the centaur's neck. The crowd yelled and screamed as he turned and dashed to the edge of the arena, scaling the walls with his lean frame. Taereus stood up abruptly as he climbed over the edge, leaping over a few cowering heads. He snagged the fork from a nearby table, and swung towards her jugular.
She blocked the strike with her arm, and kicked her shin into his bruised side, and he collapsed onto the table, spilling half-eaten food and drinks. Wiping split wine from his face, he snarled with his hands tightly over the handle of a steak knife from the leg of a lamb.
“Really, Headhunter?” Taereus sighed, watching the Lionguard spilling into the arena with swords and shields.
“I've never failed a hunt.” He murmured, swiping at her with the stained knife.
“I thought you'd be a swell guy to talk to, but this? You're just acting like an uncouth brute.”
“Insult me all you want, Lady, but I will claim your hea-!”
An armored charr tackled him.
The Headhunter gave a quiet moan, biting back the stinging pain as the medic placed a poultice across his back, covering another battle wound from today’s arena. The centaur was tough, but he was tougher. He had slain a herd of its kind, and mounted their heads on markers dotting around queensdale. Of course, the Seraph didn’t like that, and rejected his application. An ice pack was placed over the side of his bruised face to ease the throbbing from the thrashing after his second failed attempt to take Taereus' life. He frowned at his prey behind the bars, taunting him with those observant blue eyes.
“Your fighting skills are strong, but unfocused. Definitely an uncouth brute.”
“Shut up.” He snarled, pulling back the icepack in his hands and throwing it at her. It clashed against the bars before she caught the bag.
“Hrm...a juvenile uncouth brute.”
“Why don’t you come in here and say that to my face?” Snatching a roll of bandages from healer’s wrinkled hands, he stood up to wrap the poultice against his skin. The Headhunter limped towards Taereus with light clinks of the chains cuffed around his ankles.
“I did. A few day ago. And again when you tried to escape from the arena to kill me with a fork.” She replied in a matter-of-factly, reminding him of the chains to his feet. “I do admire your resourcefulness. You should consider being a Lionguard.”
He frowned, pointing at her threatenly. “I’ll gut you with a butterknife and string you up with your own entrails once this is over.”
“Or you can leave your fragile ego behind, and walk away from all this. You don’t have to go through this. I’m sure you have the gold anyways to pay the bail from all the killing you’ve done, unless you’ve spent it all wastefully on earthly pleasures.”
“You’re no different, Lady Taereus.” He spat.
Her eyes widened when he spoke her true title and then narrowed. “So it was my brother who hired you. Damn asshat.”
He twitched and snorted, “Watch your language. It’s not becoming of a noble blood like you.”
“Oh, you’re bringing class into this?”
He leans forward with a smirk. She could smell the subtle pine and sweat off his musk. “What are you going to do about it? Turn me into the Ministry? Lady, you’re miles away from Divinity’s Reach for their jurisdiction to reach here.”
“I’ve shot, stabbed, and clocked you once. I can do it again.”
“But next time, I won’t underestimate you.”
She smiled, tossing back his icepack. “I’ll be ready then.”
Day 11 - Is there an animal you equate with your character?
Based on his past and pedigree. He’s more in-line with a wolfdog mix.
He has a predator instinct, but with an occasional playful, curious feel. Jian does feel timid or meek when surrounded by a lot of people, but flash him some coin or a chance at sex or a fight and he breaks out of that real quick. He’s overly protective of those he considers his friends.
Jian stared at a newpaper clipping with a picture of a man with sword for wings. He tucked it back into the folder which he stole from the Inquest at an outdoor lab outside their base of operations. He reached out, clenching his eyes and focusing on summoning the swords he saw in the picture. However nothing happened. He frown, hiding the folder with the name “Subject Alpha” into his rucksack.