"So... you like oranges huh?"

Snickering, she took one of the oranges from Ethan's current bundle, tossing it up and down a little in her plam. Her sharpened grin stretched across her face as she watched the citrus fruit fly upward, only to drop into her hand again, before her eyes lock on to the innocent boy. After winding up her pitch, slung the orange forward at a rather violent speed.

"Take this then, idiot!"

The orange then proceeded to miss it's target. Quite considerably.

"W-what? I could have sworn that'd..."

Huffing, she took another one from him and tried throwing it again, this time making sure she'd hit her mark!

"Stand still moron...?!?!?!"

Another miss. A bemused look came over her as she seemed unable to hit what was right in front of her. She had always considered herself a pretty good shot but...

"ARRRRGH!!! WHATEVER!!!"

Scowling and throwing her hands up, she lunged forwards to try and tackle Ethan... only to miss him then as well, falling straight to the ground instead, with her face slamming right into the floor.

"What? What the fuck?"

SiLk was given his next target. His client was a Governor from a corrupted city, a city run by the rich and wealthy, and the Governor was the reason for the corruption. The Governor has hired SiLk to stop a delinquent citizen who has been running rampant in the city. This resident only goes by the name of Replica, an infamous infiltrator; a reputable murderer; a threat to the government.

SiLk arrived to the city at the height of the night. He decides to plant himself on the roof of a skyscraper to get a better view of the city and to his luck, there he was. The notorious Replica! It looks as if Replica was still in the middle of his mission. He was focus, his eyes determined. SiLk quickly moved in and tried to pull his best moves. His game plan was to distract Replica and take him down. Attempts to fluster Replica by tossing unorthodox items SiLk kept in his pouch. SiLk throws the poisonous black widow spider, an unwashed stinky sock. Perhaps the cereal brand Trix? Nope. Nothing worked, nothing was effective. SiLk's silly antics wasn't doing the job. Replica was too seroius, too ambitious, and too driven to complete his task that night. The next thing SiLk knew was that Replica was charging full force, straight at him. SiLk couldn't avoid his punches and blows. Replica was too good, too skillful in the art of fighting. And just like that, SiLk was easily defeated, beaten to a bloody pulp. SiLk falls to his knees to surrender but before he could accept death, Replica was gone. SiLk could finally rest, he faints on the rooftop.

The next morning SiLk feeling crushed and wounded, drags himself to a local coffee shop. He had to be caffeinated for his long trip back home and to explain to the Governor that Replica is still running loose in his city. SiLk sits down to enjoy his coffee. Grabs his phone, and to his surprised, it was hacked... All his files deleted; he would not be able to inform the Governor now. SiLk with a deep sigh... As he looked up he notices a clumsy college student falling over with coffee in hand. The hot coffee spills all over SiLk. A businessman and his colleague points and laughs at the fallen young man. SiLk in excruciating pain, but at the same time, feeling so sorry for this poor kid. SiLk looks at the boy with sympathy, helps him up. "Bad day?"

(Yuh... SiLk is just a silly fool. He won't stand a chance against Replica. LOL!!! At least he tried. That skill-less nut. HA!)

SparklingEntropy

After the almighty Beelzebub had tossed SiLk 10 feet into a building. He laid there, "Ow shit. This would be more painful if I wasn't paralyze from the waist down. I mean that crazy lady literally fling me like a fly! Haha. Lucky me! But damn she powerful. Who on blaz'n earth wanted me murdered! They sent the High Hweeen after me. Haha! Boy I dint know I had such a high price on my head. I am Mr Amazing. Haha!" He laughs to himself and started to drift away in happy thoughts.
(EVEN in DEATH he will still be annoying. LMAO)

2 tired 2 claim rn, but here's a bump >:v

To put it bluntly, Kaevyre wasn't usually summoned for bounties anymore. It's incredibly difficult to summon a High Queen of any circle, let alone wrath, and those who do tend to pay highly, usually with their souls, especially if they're rich. Kaevyre believes in taxing the rich, after all, and if that tax happened to include their soul (Which would inevitably kill them, of course), then so bet it, who was she to complain?

This target, however, was proving to be a major annoyance. She signed up for someone easy, someone to terrify before she likely ripped out their organs and then wrapped them around her victim's neck like an antique scarf. And SiLK wasn't dodging that category, he was just an absolute annoying idiot. She wasn't in the mood for some discount Deadpool, and so, finally losing her interest in stalking from afar to learn weaknesses, the demon strikes swiftly.

And by swiftly, I mean she easily grabs him by the throat and throws him about 10 feet away into another building at a speed that likely causes it to cave in slightly. Normally she'd set him on fire, but hearing his annoying voice, let alone his screams, made Kaevyre feel more keen to ripping her eardrums out, so she supposed this would do.

"Next time I'm summoned, I'm bringing a terms of service," she grumbles, finally lifting her hand to produce a large ball of fire before she launches it toward the crater she'd made in the building with nothing more than a disdainful sneer.

Crystalion gazed down the majesty of the queen's castle. It was his first glance to guage the power that the owner had. Then with a painful grasp on his power, he rips open a black hole... not a sizeable devour-everything-in-the-universe rift. Just a mere simple rip that could be passed on as a mere space disturbance. Despite it's size, it was enough to rip the entire fortress into nothing but discarded rubble and his true intentional target sat amongst the carnage.

Tenebris gave no regards to his prey, every single being ranging from a snack to a challenging foe and Beezlebub sounds like the type that would surely tests his limits. A soft voice introduces him to the queen.

"So you're the one who has been emerging into my land? Well then, I suppose we should make this quick." He purred.

He watched as his enemy prepares to cast her fiery counter attack, his eyes opened and immediately realises what she was capable off. He immediately summons spires of his vicious crystal to tank the streams of inferno, causing them to violently combust in her face and peppering her body with the desolating shards they splinter into. A cackle was heard through the purple mist as the crystal began to eat away her life force. 

"You may have eternal life but all life belongs to me... Even immortality can be poisoned for you shall be eaten away for eternity."  Crystal laughs as he walks over to kick over Beezlebub like a trashcan and lets his boot rest and press down until it began to break and buckle every bone that kept her in her skeptical shape.

"What a weakling, put a bigger explosion next to the fire, sucks the life out of it." He smiled before planting his foot into her face, to knock her out.

Roswell's heart was beating like a drum. There was no way, in the Void's nine hells that he was going to win this. His breathing was quick. As he placed his hand on his single, curved dagger. A tool mostly used to cut thicker cords and leatherpurses. Not so much for throats, let alone gods. "Never thought oi'd would go down dis way, " he spat. He had envisioned going down in a fight, the God aspect was a surprise. Void. The fact that he was still talking and breathing was a surprise. Roswell gritted his teeth. "Listen' sprung, " Roswell told the ancient God of death and Darkness, with not even a weaver in his tone. "Ya think 'igly of herself hu? But we share de same background, we same loive, if Ya can still remember how it is to live, " Roswell said. Before slashing his weapon Tenebris way. A fruitless endeavor. "Yer a coward, and a prick, " he bravely but foolishly said. "Yer forgot who yer are, and hide behind yer stupidly powerful powers. Without dem yer nothin'" he taunted. Foolish last words..

--

He smiled brightly at her. Even though she clearly tried to stab him, lad what's wrong with you. "We're keep tiptoin' around each other loike little birdies, " he told her. His breath a bit raspy from the exercise and the fact that his none dagger arm was hit, at some point in the fight. He couldn't even remember when it happened. "Wish oi could join ya on yisser 'unt, " he said. Showing her a molar missing smile. "But oi can't leave me..business, unguarded here, now can oi." Ah no fosile date :(. He hopes a bit closer when Brown wildly swings her dagger at him. And he pecks a quick kiss on her life, "fur gut luck though, " he said before bolting off

   - CVYUFGVIUDYHF honestly I just... find it infinitely amusing that Brown's infinitely pissed at Ros, and Ros just.... doesn't care.... good for him.... but also YEA DUDE SHE TRIED TO STAB YOU??? she probably would've tried fighting him during the hypothetical fossil date too just saying lmfao.

but yea.... it's probably for the best that they don't actually go out.... maybe later! but not now. you BET that she'd be confused as all hell by the knife smooch though.... so at least that'd stop her from actually going after him in a "wtf just happened???? get back here" mood fyvgsryfuv-

When Johnson told her that he allowed the Crow to take some of his belongings, the woman was understandably... Well... Upset.

"Why the hell would you do that!?" she spat at the middle-aged man, arms flayed out, "You only harm your dignity by being so permissive, don't you know that!? Where is the stoic, rigid individual I know, huh?" Brown's arms almost closed around the stick like she was going to shake him, but instead, she just crossed her arms and scowled at her friend. "I expected better from you," the woman reprimanded while looking off to the side, and after that, the subject changed.

Alas, this exchange wasn't the reason why she thought it fit to fight Roswell... Again. The real reason was that she was still feeling a bit too resentful over the time she tried critiquing the thief's sweet-talking - only for her to be hit by it seconds later. It had been pissing her off for a while now, albeit as a latent disease; that theft relating to Johnson just made her remember that it existed in the first place. Oops?

Though as she flashed the blade of her knife at the man, Brown remembered that winning this fight wasn't going to be like stealing candy from a baby (not that she actually did the latter), but not only because he actually did have some skill in him. Memories of the last time they fought flowed through her mind, and one of them involved him slashing at her face - though it was more like a lucky swipe than an intentional move - that scratched her in the cheek. Unsurprisingly, the woman was still agitated over it even as she dug her nails into one of his arms; the other hand wielded the knife that pointed directly at a vital organ. Which one precisely? It's better left in mystery for the sake of suspense.

The woman snarled while holding the knife, "I hope that you learned from the last skirmish, Crow. At least when it comes to my weaknesses and the like-" She giggled - out of all the actions she could've done - before sighing and attempting to deflect that damn curved dagger of his; the latter ended up failing, and she hissed as the pain in her arm - as well as the blood oozing from it - forced her to let go. "Fine, got me there," Brown muttered before rolling her eyes and hissing, "You at least understand the fact that I tend to monologue. But at least I don't fucking engage in pointless flattery, and that is the one advantage that I have over you." Ummm, said the person who almost gave this man a near-death experience the last time they battled it out? Okay? She swatted at the dagger with her knife, though most of her moves missed or were deflected, though... Brown frowned as the deflections became less and less dexterous, because surprisingly enough, she didn't want this fight to be an easy win. Thus, sighing reluctantly, she stepped back.

Even then, the knife was kept close to her as she brushed some dust and blood off her clothes; then the aristocrat grunted between heavy breaths, ".. Because even if you can barely keep up with me after a few minutes, I still respect you as a fighter... Why else haven't I decided to just defeat you right then and there?" She chuckled while wiping the blade on her blouse. "By the way," the woman teased with the faintest hint of a smirk, "That was just practice for the fossil hunt later on..." Hey, excuse me... What the actual fuck? It seemed like yet another excuse for her to steer the conversation towards fossils, but her voice did remain surprisingly coy throughout her attempt at humor. Nevertheless, she directed the blade straight at Roswell... Just in case he decided to strike while she was supposedly caught off-guard.

hell yea, sandwich posting. that's valid tbh, you go dude. rip Brown for destroying the thread for that long though oOP-

anyways. time for a somewhat long follow-up, with a verrrry slight reference to I'sen in the last paragraph. potential cw for serious bodily injury (specifically an open fracture and sort of a reference to having a lot of bones broken at once)??? it's all fun and games until your sparring partner decides to make you go through a near-death experience!

_{I sandwich a post cause its been a month guys, I have the sandwich rights}
-
"I see that that dagger hasn't been collecting dust," Nathaniel said with a loud laughter. The blade of his kram (dagger) just catch Brown's dagger's blade. She was quick. He smiled, wildly and teeth baring. He stepped a few steps back, observed her and then nodded. "You're a good fighter Brown, not gonna lie," he said. Whipping the sweat from his forehead. "A good practice partner! This must be quite something else then twirling in a aristocratic ballroom I'd imagine," he said with the same bewildered smile. He had this shimmer in his eye that would scare away most practice partners, but not Brown. Of course not Brown. "Right, come at me again!" he said. No, challenged! He softly lifted his kram, arched to his knees and waited. Nathaniel's ears pricked when the inevitable attack came. The curved edge of his kram slit itself underneath her dagger, lifting the blade away from himself, while his bared hand grabbed her now free arm.
He could break it. Right her, right now.
The occultic powers almost shot like lightning in his fingers and he felt his hand automatically lock tight around her arm. Like a anaconda around its pray. Nathaniel could feel her heartbeat, the warmth. First her arm. Then what? Her neck? With slit pupils he stared at the arm, hold in place in his iron lock. Feeling his grip getting stronger. More constrictive. Another corrupted aristocrat  he would not have to worry about anymore. 
Nathaniel smiled, his gaze relaxed and slowly let go of her arm. Leaving white prints where his fingers had hold her. "Kram's are deflecting in nature," he said calmly like nothing had happened. "Just go for a direct attack next time, that's hard to reflect with a weapon like this," he said lifting his kram illustratively.
--

"When are you going to give me some rest," he said. Half joking, 100% meaning it. While Nathaniel leaned mostly on his brute strengths and ocultic powers, he wasn't trained. While I'sen clearly had been. 

Unlike his friend Brown, Johnson wasn't at all inclined to fight - at least not physically. The other party could literally just show off one bicep, and Johnson - knowing better than to mess around with a figure who was more than just bark - would just give up and surrender, hands raised in the air as if he was pretending to be a harmless old man. Ew.

However, like the pirate standing before him, the man did have one aspect that allowed the match to be a little bit more even: quick thinking.

It was this craftiness that caused the aristocrat to veer off to the side, breathing ragged as he glared at the other party and hissed, "Listen, I know that neither of us really want to fight... Something about you screams pacifistic to me, but at the same time... I'd lose easily, and I also have the feeling that you prefer to keep your fights fair..." Yet in spite of his words, he kept a dagger tightly clutched to his side, the one given to him by his friend before she bade him farewell - just so she could spend some time by herself for a bit. He wondered how she was doing, in that stupid little garden of hers - tending to her kudzu vines while he was literally in a life-or-death situation against a pirate. A pirate, but also an engineer, to be more exact.

His eyes drifted off to a little widget, placed somewhat haphazardly off to the side. It looked a bit rustic but was otherwise in surprisingly good shape, and - like the fool that he was - Johnson considered discarding the perfectly good dagger in favor of the widget. But then he remembered, Brown gave that to me. She'd be so uprooted if she found out that precious dagger of hers was dropped on some ship in the middle of nowhere. Come on, Johnson, think of something...

Then his eyes drifted off to the edge of the ship, where the waves gently rocked the craft beneath both parties. Johnson gulped just doing so, and he quickly drew his head back, but... It was already too late. The temptation to escape by jumping off the rail and into the ocean below was too tempting. Sure, there was a good chance he'd drown, but... He had to weigh his options; it was that, or potentially getting mauled by a beast, or some hybrid thereof.

The middle-aged man had clearly picked which option by now as he slowly started to back himself against the side, dagger pointed straight at the other party as more of an intimidation tactic than an actual weapon at this point.

"Let's keep this conversation easily," he assured the younger man with gritted teeth, "just like you want it. Give me some of that money, and... Everything will be okay, but... If not, just know that I'd rather let the ocean claim me first, than let you lay one filthy finger - or claw, or fang - on me. Got it?"

shhhh eden.... that's valid.... I'm always a sucker for the more comedic responses, given that my characters are literal walking angst bags lmfao.

here's.... a follow-up.... Johnson gets his ass kicked, as he deserves!