Tekuka wasn't afraid of dying. To him, dying meant falling from the ninth floor window and hitting the pavement below. Life meant being revived and allowed to live as something that wasn't quite human anymore. And to see someone in front of him who also died, and to see someone who also was given a chance to live again, Tekuka couldn't help but wish that Sir wasn't his assassin, but instead someone he could talk to. He was only... two years younger than I was... when I attempted.
He shook away the painful memories. He understood why he had most of his memories removed when he was brought back to life.
"What did I do?" asked Tekuka. "If your boss is someone named Satan, what did I do to him? I don't think I've met anyone by that name." Tekuka tried to search his amnesiac mind for anyone by that identity. They would have to be someone powerful, so does this Satan person work for Ares? For the Myrios police? I don't know what someone powerful like that would want with me. He gave up trying to search his mind.
Then again, why was he worried? If he died, the company that revived him, Ares, would just repair him again. If he took a bullet or two, his cyborg body wouldn't break.
But... I really just want to talk to him. I want to make sure he'll be okay. Is that... wrong, if he wants to kill me?
I felt like this would be kinda fun.
Basically your OC finds out that the OC above is going to assassinate them at any given point.
How do they react to this? What do they do? How intimidated are they by the OC above?
So, I will use my assassin OC Scourge for this. (partly because he was what inspired me to make this) So basically whoever comments IC next has to react to hearing the news that they are about to be killed by this guy. They might survive though if they're lucky.
She giggled, swinging her nailed bat around casually. "He's going to have a, fun time, trying to get me!" she said, face twisting into a grin. "I'm the one here who has experience killing and i'm the strongest person alive" her eyes glinted maliciously. "I am almost a god, seeing how powerful i am and I would like too see someone who can get me to stop!"
Her eyes glinted and she leaned on the nail studded bat, her maniac grin still lining her face, "I'd kill him before he even got to me!"
She looked like something that came out of a nightmare. Rigel took a few quick steps back from the woman, his hand darting for his plasma blade. It activated in an instant, filling the corridor with orange light. He kept it's point trained on the assassin, it's steady glow reflecting off her bloodstained bat.
He knew his own weapon could slice through hers like butter. Still, he'd rather he not fight her at all. That creepy laughter. That fiendish glint in her eye. That unhinged smile…
He shuddered. She was much too confident about this situation despite her apparent disadvantage. It made him uneasy.
“Listen. You don't stand a chance against me,” he said calmly. “This sword can cut through just about anything so… how about you give up?”
It was too much to hope for, wasn't it?
,,Thrust it deep inside me, daddy~" Anthos moaned loudly before flashing a toothy grin. ,,Honestly though, it´s fair enough. I had my fair shair of kills. Might as well become another kill on a sexy guys list." That wasn´t all true - Anthos sure was scared. The grandson of Aphrodite had experienced death twice, and he considered both times as the most terrifiying experiences he ever made. But he´d rather die at the hands of a sexy guy than his grandfather or a monster, and, despite the fear, was rather okay about the concept of dying now. At least in death, he would get to be reunited with his lover.
---
,,Calm down there, big guy. The only scenario in which i will order you your beer is the one where you shove your fist up my ass. So unless you begin considering that, consider your beer out of reach. I´d be glad to be your obedient woman, big guy, but only if i can get my daily fuck out of it~" Anthos gently let his fingers run over Rylex´ face, tracing his cheek bones. ,,And just to let you know, hun, one does not need tons of muscle to shoot a bow or wield a knife. Being quick is the key."
Rylex bursts into a huge laugh, slapping his knee, tears in eyes. The soldier gestures Anthos to stop with his hands, as he keeps chuckling, "Stop it. Stop man. Hold up! You kill me!?" He points to the legacy of Aphrodite, then to himself. He pauses for a sec and shakes his head, "Yo man. Naw. Only way yo puny gay ass can assassinate me is with this laughter here!!" He then continues to laugh and mock the charmspeaker.
"Tell you what brother. I'm sorry why I gotta keep calling you a man when you is clearly taking it like a gurl. Cuz dat ass seen too many brothers! OHHhhh!!" He does a pretend basketball dunk over Anthros' towering over him, with chest and body weight all over his face. "Ho ho ho ho!!!" He growls like a hound then explodes into another loud laughter. "Woof woof woof!"
Rylex wraps his arms around him tightly, forcefully pulling Anthos in close, looking down on him. Slaps his face hard a few times, "Let's forget this 'you ass-ass-in me' thingy here. Sounds too gay for me woman. And just do something more manly and get us a round of beer instead! WOOO!! YEAH!" He cheers loudly into Anthos' ears, spewing spits on him.
(Perhaps Rylex is really scared of being murdered by a being with that shares the bloodlines of the Gods. Why he probably rather befriend Anthos instead. LOL)
"Ohhh SHIT! Get OFF of me yo!!" Rylex steps back as the thing leaped at him! He falls on his back and tucks his legs in as it aims for his shins. "The fawk is you tryna do!!" He attempts to block the knife blows with his battle riffle that he was holding. He scoots far enough from Quincey just to say,"You call that a knife!" He pants hard, catching his breath. Then whipes out his own knife!! "THIS IS A KNIFE!" Dramatic music plays, "KNIFE FIGHT PUNK!"
"Well looks like someone finally caught on!" The 'toy' robot chuckled.
"I was hoping for someone..." Quincey looked the soldier up and down, he wasn't impressed, "taller."
The robot let out a loud, fake sigh before drawing out his well-polished knife. "Well meathead, I don't plan on making this easy!" He got low to the ground and lunged for his would-be killer, taking aim for the shins.
"You're here to as...assass..assassinate me?" Alouise tilted her head to the side, looking vaguely confused.
She remained silent for the next few seconds, her face scrunched up in thought.
"What's assassinate?"
Her confused expression remained for only a moment before she lighted up in happiness.
"Oh oh! you want to play with me!"
So she picked up her would-be assassin, skipping all the way.
Sibyl looked up and down her so-called assassin, letting out a tired sigh. Now she had seen and heard everything.
"I'm just gonna assume my ex put you up to this. Does that sound about right?"
She started slowly and subtly backing away from the canine in front of her. She was prepared if things got ugly; all it would take was one smoke grenade and she'd be out safe. Not that she really wanted to waste one.
"Listen, I dunno what you've heard, but I ain't a demon or anything like that. So how about we just put this behind us, huh? I don't wanna fight you, I doubt you really wanna kill me, it's three in the morning, and I'm sure as hell too tired to really wrap my head around any of this. I'll let you go easy now if you do the same for me, okay?"
Sibyl desperately hoped that would be enough to get herself out of the mess ahead of her. Knowing her luck, the guy would lunge for her throat before she could blink... Or maybe she'd gotten through to him? Whatever the case may be, she was ready.
Footsteps. Alec could hear footsteps. Human footsteps in his direction.
"From an ex-assassin to another assassin, you should take a little more care into being quiet," Alec spoke, slowly turning around to face his enemy. His faux red eyes seemed blank, void of emotion or expression. He wasn't going to take any shit. Especially not without a fight.
He swiftly pulled a knife from his pocket, looking and his hand and he pressed the cold metal against his finger.
"It's not a challenge to find out who put you up to this. One of those rebellion freaks probably saw you and assumed you'd be a good fit, hm?" He hummed, taking a few steps closer, looking up. "You look a bit stronger than what they usually send, but you know what? I don't mind."
He smirked a bit, "I like to have a challenge every now and then."
Alec scoffed, "I don't want your damn pity." His eyes narrowed, and he pulled a small knife from his pocket. One of many. Many more than a young adult his own age should usually carry. He stepped closer.
"Pity is the reason why people like you are undeserving of my mercy. I'm not some broken little baby. I'm Alec. I'm a king," He snarled, pressing the point of his knife against his fingertip, putting more and more pressure on it as he stepped closer. He knew how much stress was building up, and he knew that his target could see that. But he couldn't let himself burst. Not here. Not now. Alec took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a brief moment, before looking back up at his target.
"Defend yourself if you wish. I'll watch every last drip of confidence drain from your eyes while you bleed out."
"Oh?" was all Skinner initially blurted when he heard the news. He had set his glass down and turned to face the messenger before stating with an unusual calmness, "As unusual as it'd be for someone to try and kill me, I wouldn't be too surprised about it either." The middle-aged man gave them a quick nudge with his elbow, a grin starting to creep on his face in the process of his growing amusement. "Fame comes with those who want to see you suffer... Or die, for that matter, hm! I'm flattered by that, really! At least I know that I have enough notoriety for that!" From there, he proceeded to laugh heartily, although it was a bit questionable as to how sober he was given that the drink he had consumed before then was wine.
Nevertheless, despite all the alcohol having since left his system, Skinner seemed unfazed by the young man standing in front of him. He's so... Young... I expected someone older. He scratched his head in slight confusion before shaking his head. No, this had to be some bizarre case of mistaken identity; he just... Knew it. Young targeted young, old targeted old. He'd rather believe sooner that his wife was out to kill him than a man who appeared to be barely out of childhood.
Yet at the same time...
The lack of emotion in the other man's eyes; it was definitely something worth being concerned about. Perhaps the various reinforcements and punishments that had occurred throughout the youth's life had influenced him to be this way. Or - as much as Skinner personally disagreed with the notion - he was just... Born that way. Born a husk. Born a shell. Skinner glanced down at his hands, his frown in confusion eventually fading into that of pity, with the fact that this other party was sent to kill him being ignored in favor of an "Oh..."
Said "oh" was more of a revelation than anything else, with the middle-aged man shaking his head and taking a few steps back. "I don't know what got you to this point," he stated quietly and almost solemnly, "but I nonetheless want to assert the fact that I never meant any harm upon you." "Kid" almost slipped out of his mouth for a moment, but he was quick enough to catch it before looking back into his eyes. Subconsciously, his hand started to creep ever so slightly to his pocket. "Although... As much as I'd rather not hurt someone like yourself any further, if you're going to try and end my life right here, I won't hesitate to defend myself, sir."
*slides in with... a follow-up*
Upon spotting the woman seated besides her desk, Skinner suddenly felt a well of regret swell up in himself as he took a step back. Not much was on her face except what was told to him: a solemn, almost reflective frown as she focused on pinning bugs to her collection. Still, it made him realize that this wasn't just a nobody he was targeting, but rather... A person. A person with passion, a person with interests... He shook his head and frowned, but this time more at himself than at her; it was one of shame, one that asked himself, "Why?"
He didn't clearly remember the reason why he had agreed to the arrangement; perhaps it was because a certain someone had told him that she was no good and couldn't be trusted. That seems all so false though... The middle-aged man dropped whatever weapon he had - a knife provided to him by the other party - and let it clunk itself to the ground. Then, he stood himself up straight. Might as well own up to your actions, right?
"I thought so too," Skinner muttered while wringing his now empty hands, "I really thought you were like what they said about you for a second, but..." One glance at those bugs did wonders, apparently. The middle-aged man shook his head once more and gulped. She could definitely use those pins against him, he believed without blame. "I was mistaken in my beliefs, and I do apologize."
Skinner stepped forward but kept his distance; however, he placed emphasis on showing his hands to the woman, just to show that he was now harmless. He glanced down at the bugs with a small smile, despite seeing them impaled against the pins like that, before shooting awkward glances around the enclave. Yes, if he actually went through the act... He wouldn't have known what to feel. He might've felt validated for a short time, but once reality kicked in... Regret.
Yes, he was a practical man, and he normally wouldn't let moral situations like this get in the way of his pursuits. The costs and benefits, though, demonstrated that the cost of killing someone - ethical or otherwise - would be far greater than the reward promised to him from earlier. What even was the reward anyways?
In an attempt to shift the subject, Skinner merely asked, "What sorts of bugs do you have on those pins, by the way?" His question was filled with genuine intrigue, but there was also that uneasiness associated with potential rejection. Still, excepting the rocky start, he did feel that he could turn things around... Maybe...
She, even in her young age, wasn't unfamiliar with danger. Having far too many brushes with death, she thought of herself, to some extent, insanely lucky, sometimes insanely unlucky. She'd lay awake at night and wonder if everything had been a dream, as she heard so many describe death being like, a hallucination. She doubted herself to be alive. It took more pondering to believe otherwise, but then she'd be right back in her bed, in her room, lost in thought.
Maribelle's eyes were wide when Skinner announced himself, but they lacked any reaction to the situation at hand. She stood, unsure if he was serious, or if, again, this was another silly nightmare, and she would wake up unscathed. She shifted her gaze rather awkwardly from the man, down at her desk where she had spent what was probably her last hour studying and trying to organize her insect cases, one of which was a dobsonfly that still had yet to be pinned. She chewed her bottom lip until blood oozed from the little cut. She thought about... just going back to her work. This couldn't be real, right?
"Well, I..." She started to speak, but just as she did she stopped. She faced Skinner again. Or tried to. She focused on his shoes. "There... There's something about..." Another stop. At this point, she seemed more contemplative, still gnawing on her lip, moving on to bite the inside of her cheek. It was a good way to tell if she wasn't making this entire thing up.
And then, she stopped. Her face fell. She felt nauseous. She didn't know if biting herself was making things any better. It certainly didn't get rid of Skinner.
"I don't know why you would want to kill me... I thought you were nice, maybe..." A half-assed shot at convincing him not to kill her. Honestly, however, she wasn't entirely closed to the idea.
She thought she would survive again, and then she could get back to her bugs.
follow-up to below.....
A good man she knew and met many months ago had a job for her. She always knew to obey him, to carry out his wishes as delicately as possible. This wouldn't be like Verona, or Marina, neither of the two cities. She scoffed at the thought, and wondered if she would ever be allowed back within the province for as long as she lived.
Truly, she could care less about Mimi, or what of the older woman thought of her. Her eyes dark, dull, she carefully studied Mimi. A quivering sigh eased out between her lips. There was something to the girl. It was human, of course, but not quite so. Something animalistic. She dragged her fingernails along the wood of her loaded crossbow. When she entered the room, she didn't say anything. It took a long time for her to, even after the other's laughter.
"I don't think you realize how much trouble you're in." she murmured, "If you're going to be a bitch and not take this seriously, then fine. I don't care how you die."
She had already made up her mind, it seemed. Spare her life and she certainly wouldn't do the same for anyone else. She leveled her crossbow to her eyesight and took slick aim at Mimi.
Mimi was used to the role as killer, not the person being killed. She just liked harassing one person in particular, move on to another person, and then target everybody. But when this girl waltzed in without invite, she didn't want to have it. This girl, with a full on assassin outfit, was looking straight at her. She couldn't move, she just sat there, staring blankly at her, her dry, weary, bloodshot eyes stared at the girl.
Is this what she got for murdering one person, this surely couldn't be revenge, who would want to avenge her sister? A friend wouldn't go that far, they couldn't, she'd make sure of that. She knew she went overboard with threats but come ON! Her assasin looked the exact opposite of intimidating to her, despite being a good two inches taller, she couldn't be any older than 16. She let out a dry, hollow laugh. " What are you going to do, attack me with a plastic fork? " she chortled. This little girl couldn't kill her, hopefully not.
,,Aw." Anthos flashed Mimi a grin, golden eyes sparkling with amusement. ,,Baby´s first assassination over here? Baby learns killing?" He teased her, drawing his knife. ,,Go get me, sugar, i´ll be right here." It was rather obvious he didn´t take her serious at all. After all, he was a skilled assassin, and what was in front of him there seemd to be nothing more than a woman, maybe even just a baby deer on shaking legs. He kind of rooted for her, though. Maybe she could land a hit or two. He´d be proud of her, and if she did very well, perhaps he would even give her a cookie.