RP:First Death

Background

Bloodshed is common in the slums of Cenrils. And monsters? They find their way.

NPC Dax played by Thistle.

Edge of Pariah's Territory, Cenril

Dax had never killed anyone before. He had a dagger in one hand, and it was the dagger he was supposed to make his first kill with, because Nils had said so and he tried always to do what Nils tole him. He was sixteen, skinny, and full of himself. Or he had been, right until Nils had dragged him off his cot in the middle of the night, smoke wreathing his face, and tole him to go out and kill Pockmark Danny because he'd done something wrong, and Dax hadn't. So he and Rue had gone out, and she'd killed before, she was known for liking it, and she was holding Pockmark Danny by the hair, with him on his knees, and a burlap sack over his head. They was in the back alleys, along the outer slums just outside of Pariah territory. The ground was muddy, slick, and stinking of rotting fish and waste. The walls that marked the boundaries of the alleys were rough, ancient and weathered down like cratered bone. It was dark, and Danny had just told Dax that he ain't done nothing wrong, but then Rue'd shook him up good, and Danny'd started breathing loud and wet, and Dax looked down at the dagger in his hand, and imagined it in Danny's throat. Dax felt sick.

Fingon is minding his own business as he walks the streets of Cenril, mostly Arril street in hopes to find some items to make his potions and poisons. He may love the taste of blood and may have eaten his parents, but he now has a new passion and that is Alchemey. He sounds like a horse with those horseshoes on his feet, but he looks like a Drow with his black skin and crimson hair and eyes. But that is the only color the centaur stud has on him. His good ears and good sight and his really god sense of things, he knew something was up and all he has to do is look and he does, finding a scene unfolding before his eyes. A scene that he isn't causing and he almost wishes that he was, but perhaps he can collect the blood if that one is killed. Perhaps he should tell them, so they don't go wasting that precious metallic tasting substance. As he makes his way closer, he makes sure to keep his distance and act like he is looking for the items he is originally here for.

The alleys were narrow, down there in the guts of the city. They wasn't often traveled at that time of night, nor very often in the daylight; it was that kind of place. But they was where they was, and in the night-quiet was the sound of hooves, behind Dax. Rue looked up, bag and hair all bunched up in her fist, and Dax saw her eyes go wide and then narrow in the moonlight. What he could see of her eyes, anyway. She tucked her chin down, and shadows pooled in the hollows of her eyes, makin' her look like a corpse. Dax pivoted around, mud stickin' thick and slimy to his ankles, between his toes. "Who're you?" Rue asked, 'cuz Rue weren't afraid of no thing. Dax could barely see what it was; the night hid him in the bowels of its shadow, moonlight scattering over the top of him so a faint outline of horse and man was formed, blended and weird. Dax'd heard stories of centaur, but they weren't no common thing in Cenril, and he felt the fear rise up and mix with the sick, and stay there. He stayed silent. Watchful. He was sweating.

Fingon stops then and faces the small group with a white smile that seems to be amused. He moves closer and then and only then can they see his full size, towering over them all. He's a little ovr eight feet tall and his human body is larger than that of a drow, elf or man, yet skinny and muscled. He speaks with a voice that is deep, a voice that comes from the Nameless Desert and the natives there, "I am the blood thirsty nightmare of the night. I am the greatest potion and poison creator in the making. I am the one that can make you and everyone sick, take life from the very plants and animals around. I am the one that can make you wish you never met me. I am Fingon Bloodlust, Angel of the Night." As he says all this, a black smoke like substance appears in both his hands, forming a dagger and a sword, while his breath washes over them, the smell similar to rotting, decaying plants mixed with stale blood.

The moonlight reflected off of Fingon's teeth, giving him a cheshire effect that was not lost on Rue or Dax. Danny, however, was regretfully left out of the loop. Rue looked bored, as Dax snapped a fast glance over at her, and he edged back towards her and Pockmark Danny, bein' sure to keep out of her way. She let go of Danny's head, shoving him with the motion, and put her hands on her hips. "Is 'e ruttin' high?" Her voice was deep for a woman's, just as her shoulders were broad and her body thick. She was cruel in her own right, and Dax had never liked her, but right then she weren't no nightmare like the centaur. When he didn't answer her, she turned back to the centaur. "You high, then? Lost?"

Fingon laughs deeply then leans over to bring his face to the girl's, "No my dear, not high or lost. I'm here for myself, and that is how I like it. Though, if you are going to kill that one there, I ask you do it neatly so I can collect his blood, for potions and my next meal." He sounds like a vampire, but with his face in her face, she should feel the warmth his body produces. He holds his hand out over some dirt, and in that dirt some fungus, mushrooms and toadstools alike, grow, "If I wanted to get high, all I would have to do is eat one of them, or a few. But I like to keep my mind clear so I can make poisons that can possibly be deadly." He gave a swish of his tail and he stood up straight, the moonlight casting a glow over his flawless skin.

Dax took a few more steps back, nose wrinkling at the smell of Fingon's breath. That smell, that face, that body: he didn't want none of it, though Rue just bristled up more like a wet cat. "Ain't y'dear," she snapped, and looked him over as he kept talking. She looked down at the ground at his mention of 'eat one of them' and then back up. And she looked interested right then. Dax didn't know what it was she felt; he'd never much liked her, or being around her, and he couldn't read past the clear intrigue on her face. If it was covering anything. Who knew. Rue was lookin' up at the centaur like him and Danny didn't exist any more, and Dax took another step back. "You a hedge witch?" Rue asked, her voice smooth an' low, and Danny started tryin' to go backwards, though his hands was tied. Dax stepped behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder as if to stop him, but right then Pockmark Danny felt more like a shield to Dax. That was shaming.

Fingon shakes his head with another laugh and eyes all of them, lingering on the one that seems scared. "No. I am a Druid of Decay. Anything I touch rots if I wish it so. I do think its time for me to ask a question... Why so interested in what I am and what I do? Surely you are busy with something else." He motions to the boys with a nod of his head and the darting of his eyes. He now stoof there, his handsome face straight and strict as he waits for her answer. He is not one to rush things, and this is one of those times that patience should be used, and he was doing well, by keeping calm and keeping things slow.

Dax kept his dagger hand free, an' his other on Danny's shoulder. Rue's upper lip curled. "Druid." She sounded disgusted, and gave a look at Fingon. Dax didn't understand how she wasn't scared. The centaur looked and talked weird, and monstrous; he'd never seen a like anywhere in Cenril, and he'd seen plenty of bodies both living and dead. But Rue was old hand, he supposed -- she'd been with Pariah long before he had. "Yer hotfootin' it in th' bad part of town, comin' up like y'mean t'shank me boys, an' here you wanna know all sweet an' nice why I's got 'interest'?" She hit every syllable in the last word hard, and slow. "Y'workin' hexes wi' one a the other gangs? Ain't Pariah, that's fer truth." She spat.

Fingon lifts a brow, "Other gangs? I do not follow. I am not from here and I'm not scared of no bad part of town. I go where I please in search for what I need. I'm not here for your boys, I am here for myself, though the fear in that one is giving off a ery good taste and his heart, I can hear it beating and blood pumping. He has some good blood and his flesh seems to have a nice color to it." He laughed again and showed no fear to these 'kids' and he certainly didn't care if there was gang issues here. He was doing his own thing and looking for ingredients for his alchemy. Then he moved around and leaned over to get a better look at the boys, "That one seems weak." Again his breath carried and he made sure to blow in the boy's faces, before moving back to where he was standing.

Dax shot out, "I ain't her boy!" While Rue said coolly, "Y'go alley totting in strange cities often?" And grinned, looking over at Dax when she realized what he said. "Right now you do what I says. Eh? Or if y'got problems with what Nils says?" Dax pressed his lips together, feeling the heat steal up his neck. His grip on Danny's shoulder tightened, and Danny started prayin'. "But I ain't runnin' no troupe t'perform. If y'want blood yer gonna hafta pay up and go do what y'want somewhere else," Rue watched Fingon, and so did Dax. His face scrunched up in disgust, but he didn't turn away. He weren't stupid.

Fingon hissed and bared his teeth at the group, showing off his fang like teeth then he starts laughing, "I am not scared. I will continue to go where I please and do what I please. You will be lucky if you are able to leave here feeling good. I do have the power within me to make you all sick for days and unable to perform for your boss." He grinned now, and breathed in heavily through his nose and then out, exhaling a green mist that he keeps just around himself. It was th sickly green mist he used against Daisy to make her sick, he even killed a batch of rabbits with it, resulting in their heads being ripped off and their hearts collected.

Rue cocked her head to the side as Dax shrank back without actually taking a step, the dagger not feeling so dangerous as it had only minutes before. "Y'not scared? Bully f'you. Think yer a big dog?" She snorted, "Welcome t' Cenril, death at every door. Think y'the only one with power? Hah!" She spat again and Dax felt an intense need to tell her to shut up. "This is gang territory, every sod under a banner has power, an' you keep your blubberin' quiet Dax, afore I shut you up. Wantin' t'be in the family, pah! Yer weak dirt under m'boots, an' I tole Nils you wouldn't have no guts. Here's a stranger gots more guts n' you." Rue fisted one of her hands. Wind stirred, nothing more than a gentle breeze, and it lifted the putrid stench of the alley. They all smelled that bad. "Now I gots a warm bed, an' yer keepin' me from it. You can step off if y'ain't with no gangs an' no ties." That was spoken to Fingon with another sneer, "Now get it done, boy," her eyes, and words, went back to Dax. His hands were shaking. He couldn't make them stop, and he couldn't seem to make them move, either. Pockmark Danny was still prayin', like there were any gods who might hear them. "Do it," Rue hissed, looking past Dax and towards Fingon with a wicked smile.

Fingon finds this to be amusing, the whole situation. The girl's words are heard, but he is not threatened by them so choses to eventually ignore them. Now he stands, arms folded over his thick chest, a rear leg at rest like he was waiting for something, and he is. He was waiting to see if the boy had guts, but he didn't hope or expect anything. Cenril is new to him and him new to it. Death didn't scare him, he practically enjoyed it. But still he waited to see what would comeof this situation, with a grin. "I don't think he has the guts to do it. I could do it and collect his blood all in one stroke." Now he lets the sword vanish and the dagger now glows a deep, almost blood red as it senses its owner's want for blood. He takes to walking around them now in a circle until the deed was done, "Perhaps I should speak to this Nils and tell him he takes on weaklings."

It was Rue's turn to laugh, and Dax felt the heat creeping up to his face. He knew then that she was enjoying herself, like she always did in the alleys. She was mean, she'd always been mean, but he'd thought maybe faced with a monster she'd show her true colors. Instead, it was making her worse. He felt the sizzle of her attention, knew she wouldn't try to fight the centaur while they was so far off the edge of their own territory. Bad things happened when you shed blood off the edge, too near another's. It was a point, with Danny; he'd been caught spyin, and they was to send a message by way of death. "Ain't th'point, Hooves. Yer flappin' tongue's makin' y'look the more stupid. Dax." He felt his name like a blow, and he put his dagger arm around Danny, thinking to draw a smile across his throat. Rue made a noise, "Y'stupid, Dax? Y'got a stabbin' weapon, not a slicer. Get 'im 'tween the ribs, or gutshot him. Jes gonna mess his throat with that, an' drag it out." After a hesitation, Dax removed the dagger from Danny's throat and pulled back a little. Danny suddenly pulled forward, but Rue was there to grab bag and the hair under it, snarling. Dax wasn't looking at either of them, but at the suddenly looming expanse of Danny's back. His dagger's new sheath.

Fingon waited and watched. He now fell silent as Dax was now to finish the job but seemed to be dragging it out and delaying. This has been the best show he has seen in a while and for once he was glad he wasn't doing it, but then a thought came to his mind and he walked up behind Rue and lowered his head to her ear, "If he doesn't do it, I will be more than happy to end it here, that way you can go to this warm bed you said you had. Or shall I give the boy a paralyzing potion to keep him from squirming around like the worm him and most are?" He puled out a vial of yellow looking liquid and shook it around, as well as brandishing his Bloodlust Dagger. Eventually this had to end and he will get the blood he is craving in the end.

Dax didn't hear what Fingon said. He didn't see Rue turn her head, didn't see her whisper, "Ain't that the fun thought," back to Fingon. He didn't see the way she sized up the monster, cunning in her eyes, and a big smile on her face. He saw the moment stretching out in front of him, felt the sweat on his palms, heard Danny's mumbled words, and a single hand marring that expanse before him. Rue's hand. She held Danny in place. If Dax had been standing in front of Danny, he would have seen the way the bag fluttered in front of Danny's mouth, in and out, in and out. Life, in that breath. Death, in Dax's hand. He'd hurt people afore, and he'd done it without thought, but tired and cold, dragged from his bed and sent with Rue who -hated- him, he put one foot on that bridge between one step and the other, and he hesitated. He wanted to belong to Pariah. He wanted everything it meant. Food. Place to sleep. Acceptance. Brotherhood. Belonging. He moved without thinking, almost without realizing what he was doing. There was a moment when he felt the tension up through his blade, a slight resistance, a wall. Half a moment. Less. Then he felt the meat along his blade, the texture of it in minute vibrations, until suddenly he couldn't push forward any more. Danny's sudden cry trembled up the dagger, and Dax pulled it out. It seemed faster, though he'd stuck the dagger forward without thought and just as quick. At first there was nothing, but a dark spot started to spread and Danny was making sounds. Sounds. Adrenaline flooded Dax, and he stabbed forward again, and this time it was just like sheathing his dagger in something that moved and bled: he made a sheath, custom fit and tight and there like no other sheath that would ever be made for a blade. And he knew then, knew in the way only the initiated knew exactly what that weapon had been made for. What a weapon did. Kill. He couldn't stop pulling it out and pushing it back in, some tremendous act, some parody of play he'd done thousands of times, ever since he was a boy fencing with sticks. In out, in out, the blood dark and wet and thick under the moonlight. Rue's eyes were sparkling, though he couldn't see it, and she smiled and smiled as she turned her head towards Fingon and said, "Y'like makin' things bleed, guv?"

Fingon watched the killing with such lust in his eyes one would think he was in love with something. He watched every moment of it, never averting his eyes. He licked his lips and a smile grew on his face, larger and larger it grew. "Oh I like making things bleed, but I love stealing their blood and using it for dark purposes. I love drinking their blood and I love eating thier raw flesh. There is something about it that is just tantalizing!" He got a little excited talking bout it, but he calmed himself down and stod up straight now, "Boy, you need more guts. You havea lot to learn when it comes to killing and hesitating is not something you want to do when killing. If she wasn't here, that one there probably could have easily killed you, without regret."

"Yer a strange one," Rue said, and whatever she thought about Fingon's gory confession, it wasn't showing on her face. Atrocity got old real quick on the streets, and even the limits the gangs held, not all the night travelers did. Cenril weren't no vampire city, and it didn't particularly cater to drow or shadow gnome, yet those monsters still came. Gods, even the human ones came, and worked their will until someone stopped 'em or they moved on. That was life for poor people: kill, be killed, hope you didn't die in some nasty way. It was what drove Dax to his stabbing, and Rue to her cruelty. There was one way to survive, and it was a rough business all around. Dax had finally stopped, body shaking, his face holding some strange expression he could only feel, and not see. He was a killer. He looked up at Fingon, and just stared.

Fingon didn't even shake his head or nod, he just blankly stated, "No, I am unique. Not strange." Now he found himself staring at the killer and he smiled some, and prceeded to move forward and continue on his search for the items he needed, or something new he could try out. "As exciting as this was, I still have things to do while yall go and do kid things. Fatal poisons and potions are waiting to be made." He said this and moved on to see what the girl would do, seeing as she was the one running the show and not the boy. She seemed like she knew more and she acted like a leader. But he isn't about to tell them that. They would have to figure it out on their on, if they haven't already. "Oh, tell this Nils that if he has any blood to offer up, I will gladly take it."

Rue snickered, and Dax wasn't really sure why. "Y'find yerself back this way again, ask f'Rue. I think I can figger some uses fer you, Hooves." The diminutives he'd tossed so casually only seemed to fall upon the ears of the dying man: Dax was lost to himself, and Rue, well, was Rue. "Yeah, I think we might be seein' each other 'round." She grinned at Fingon, and the moonlight caught at her teeth. To the side, Dax started throwing up. He didn't even know why.

Fingon turns to look back and finds his way back to the boy and hands him a vial full of red liquid. "Drink that, it will calm your nerves and allow you to think clearly." Now he was back to walking away with a tail flick to the girl and a wave of his hand. "I'm sure we will meet again, sooner than you think. The stars say so." He's a centaur, he can still read the stars like his lighter brothers and sisters. But what a use this stallion could be to just about anyone. He wouldn't be surprised if other gangs caght wind of him and started fighting over him. That would be a story to tell.

Rue took the vial for Dax, and maybe she'd let him have it. Maybe she wouldn't. Dax was dazed, one hand to his stomach and the other dangling with the dagger still somehow held in that grip. She pulled at Dax's arm, "C'mon, y'rotter, we've got words wi'Nils." Soon enough, the only thing left in that alley would be a dead body with a sack over its head, and a dozen or more gaping red mouths left to tell the tale of his death.