being grazed was the least of his worries. if he was in a better mood, maybe he would have actually said something more than just a few words, but that wasn’t his style. if anything, he would deal with whatever came after with his wound later. at least when they were out of this situation and he didn’t have to worry about her fussing / getting worried over him again. he was stronger than that, he was stronger than letting something graze him, and ( usually ) he could just move on from it. of course, with her around, everything changed, and he knew she would want to deal with the wound later on. ❛ lead the way. ❜
her hands are bloody from where she’s been trying to escape her bonds. thankfully it’s not metal and it’s just cloth and she’s got one hand free. she just wants out of this shit hole, why she ever agreed to be a fucking spy she doesn’t know anymore. because it’s not worth the torture that she’s been through. but when the door opens her arm jerks in surprise and her head whips to look over at now open door. but she has no idea if it’s helpor she’s about to be in for more pain.
in truth, he shouldn’t have even been here; he preferred to leave bodies around him… not going through rooms looking for people. it was a reason he wasn’t going to do this again —- he wasn’t going to deal with clean up when he knew it was suited for someone else. then again, it wasn’t like he had a real choice in the matter either, and even if he did…. sometimes it was worth sucking it up.
not to say he enjoyed doing so. by all means, he hated having to do anything that he didn’t feel like doing, and it was why he was dragging his feet on this. taking his time, making a few jokes to himself, and then he found her. just his luck that he would actually have to do his job for once ( something he usually avoided at all costs ).
“well, look who we have here. let me guess, you want me to get you out of there, right?”
“Often whoever or whatever is right depends simply on whoever or whatever is stronger.” The victors write the history, didn’t they? They decided what was the truth, what was good and bad. She’d seen that for herself time and again. Morals rarely had anything to do with right or wrong. Right, more often than not, came down to whatever benefited those in power.
“It’s all a matter of prospective, really. I try to do what’s right, but that might still hurt someone else.” Either because they got in the way, or they were on the wrong end of whatever that right was. She didn’t often bother with such thoughts. They would go in an endless circle in her head and she’d have no more answers than when she started. It was pointless.
“I fight for my people. For my king, yes, but mostly my people.” And her own glory, of course, but that was lesser. Her people came first. “Nothing is black and white. Right or wrong. They’re naught but pretty words, when it comes down to it.”
“When it also comes down to it, all fighting does is avoid the problems, and usually all it does is cause more.” Not to say that Ky hadn’t done his fair amount of fighting, but it was different than simply that. He would willingly let himself lose control in the fray of things if it meant that he didn’t have to deal with the after effects of coming down from that high.
Of course, it was rare that he ever allowed himself to go out on a rampage, and when he did? It never ended up well for anyone… especially himself, “Either way, I doubt i’ve ever fought for what was right. At least to most perspectives.”
Rather, it was that he fought for what he wanted, and almost always came out the victor as failure wasn’t a choice nor was it an option. It never could be one due to the fact he wasn’t willing to deal with any of his family’s scrutiny afterwards ( or at least wha the would get from failure ).
❛ trying to not toot my own horn here too much, but i’m decently confident you would go back on your word. ❜ surely, people didn’t always enjoy every encounter they had, but she found it hard to believe that he never wanted another round with anybody. plus, it had been a while and she was up for a bit of a challenge.
‘you don’t know me that well.’ of course, no one truly knew him well ( or so he thought ), ‘if i went back on my word, that would more than likely be breaking a deal, an’ i don’t break deals.’ well, usually he didn’t, but that was clearly not here nor there.
Head turns to the side, slightly. “I presume you aren’t here to catch up, hm?” Though curious about the other’s presence, he’d rather let them explain as opposed to him ASKING about it.
“Would it really matter too much if I was?” Honestly, Ky didn’t care about the other asking why he was here, but he would play along ( at least for the moment ), “Then again, assumptions get places, but usually not where you want to be.”
Amusement was starting to curl in the Reaper’s eyes as he eyes the demon as large arms come up to cross over his chest, lips rolling slightly as he thinks over the words the other spoke. ❝ So what it was TAKEN from you. ❞ He laughs, making fun of the other – a small salve for the itching want to punch him. ❝ Or are you trying to steal SOMEONE elses. ❞
“The real question is why does it matter?” Even if the soul was taken from him, to go after just one for a deal was meaning less. At least, it was in his mind, but this one was important. The soul he was after was worth more than his own ( if he even had one ), “I simply need to know where it is. Nothing more.”
“I’m feeling SUICIDAL every day. “ Now, that was the UNDERSTATEMENT of the century. “You just don’t see it too OFTEN.” Rather, he at least attempted to cover it up MOST days.
IT WAS no secret that Marrick and Ky’lar were never going to get along. The two hated each other – depsised was probably a more adapt word to use and if the hound was honest. He’d much rather see Ky’lar BURN than be forced to work with him. And it’s why when the opportunity presents itself he can’t help but dig the knife into the others flesh.
Their fights were numerous and never ENDING and the same with their constant arguments. It was who they were and simply a statement of how they should never work together. An eyebrow raises as he watches the other fall against the wall. Amusement colouring his blue eyes as his head shakes
the moment he stopped lying, would be the moment he would have been DEAD. if not that, close enough to the point where it would quite honestly count.
not to say that he DIDN’T have a death wish, he did, and everyone around him knew it. sometimes, he was able to avoid taking action on it, but today, it was of those rare days that he just didn’t care. nor, would he admit just how badly it hurt ( least of all to marrick ).
“you would like that, wouldn’t you? for me to finally admit that you did something right for once.” ky’lar couldn’t help, but ROLL his eyes at that idea, “it’s nothing. you should know it takes more than that to take me down.”
“Rude,” they said. Wanting to look pretty wasn’t that tall an order. “Who can I file a complaint to?” The demon tilted their head, skeletal muzzle permanently fixed in a morbid, doglike grin. “HR? We can’t even unionize. It’s sad.” They brushed against him again, if only because they knew it would vex him. “I look like cheap roadkill, a pretty collar is the LEAST you can do. Not like I get anything for all of the souls I bargain with.”
The brushing against him this time didn’t strike that much of a response. Fists clenching tightly: he didn’t enjoy being brushed up against. He didn’t enjoy his personal space being violated ( even though he wouldn’t say anything ), and he sure didn’t think that anything he said or did would change matters, “ That’s your problem. Not mine. “ The words came out colder than expected, but they would ( for the moment ) suffice, “ If you want a collar. you have to earn it. ”
Hellfirebound 