Author: Vyse, Posted: Thu Dec 10, 2015 4:44 PM, Post Subject: Crack [P][R]

A toothy grin spread across the young face, completed by a playful glint in his oddly colored eyes. "Oh, you know," he said flippantly, "You did a thing, I did a thing; let's just say I'm hard to kill."

Without waiting, he yawned and stretched his arms above his head. "Have you ever thought about taking your talents on the road? I think I could probably find someone willing to pay for your… Services." He lowered his arms to the side and got a better look at the woman who had wreaked such havoc. He leaned in toward her, taking special note of her face in the light. It was then that he did something weird; he sniffed much in the way an animal might.

His grin only grew as he stood upright again. "Rixxan… Rixx… I'll remember that, used to know another one. Even if you don't smell like blood next time. You can call me Vyse, by the way."

Vyse took on a mockingly hurt look, "All I'd like from you is to keep you company. I feel like sticking around you would be very entertaining. What can I say? I'm sly like a fox but just as curious." Another vulpine grin that exposed canine-like fangs.

"So," he said with a turning step, "Where are we headed tonight?"

Author: Rixxan, Posted: Fri Oct 30, 2015 9:52 PM, Post Subject: Crack [P][R]

Rixxan could hear the footsteps coming up behind her, and she was too belligerent to care. Whatever authority figure this was, they wouldn’t fare too long once they caught up to her. She continued dragging her sword behind her, until a man about her age darted ahead of her and caught her a bit more off guard than she would have liked. She staggered backward a step, her left hand tightening its grip on the hilt of her massive sword. While it was too heavy to swing with one hand, she could either use it as a shield in some cases or at least block with it for long enough to get her other hand on it and swing. She hesitated, as somehow he did not seem to be here to arrest or apprehend her. He commented on her ‘performance’ in the tavern, and she was frozen for a moment. She looked back in the direction of the tavern, then at the man again. 

“How… how are you alive…?” She was more shocked than curious, and her hair stood on end, “Everyone in that room was dead aside from the man behind the bar.”  It was now that Rixxan started to look more closely at this man, his mismatched eyes and dark hair and his whole demeanor in general seemed strange. Something was not as it seemed. She studied him more closely, noting now how ragged and torn his clothes were, as well as bloodstained. How is it that someone who was most definitely dead a few moments ago is now alive and breathing without any indication of harm having been done unto him? This is more than strange, there is something here that is magical and strange and I am not sure quite what it is. He looks perfectly alright, and how if I had killed him would he think it wise to confront me and compliment my killings, of which he must have been one? To tell the truth, she had no idea who she'd killed because she had been trapped in her mind, for the most part. Her mind had been preoccupied flashing images of the lost love to note anyone she might be slaying. Rixxan was wary, something very strange was clearly going on. There was a hole in the chest of the shirt that suggested someone had blown a hole through this lad, yet here he stood bright as day and perfectly healthy. 

Rixxan took another step back, her feet now parallel to each other. “But to answer your question,” she said, composing herself and brushing her hair back, “…no, I haven’t had a lot of practice at all, actually. I’ve not killed more than fifteen men in my lifetime to date. Though I imagine that number will be changing rapidly. What is it you want from me, exactly? The name's Rixxan, Rixx for short, and… If you’re not here to arrest me or kill me, you must want something.” Her eyes burned with the adrenaline that was still coursing through her, brightening their rosy pink colour to the point where they might have glowed were it a darker night. Did this man simply come up to her to compliment her psychotic break? While it seemed unlikely, the idea was appealing to Rixxan. As shocked as she was, she couldn’t help but maintain a smirk across her face from the moment he first spoke. 

Author: Vyse, Posted: Thu Oct 29, 2015 4:22 PM, Post Subject: Crack [P][R]

Somehow, whatever gods reigned in this land may only know how, the assassin had been ripped through a portal. There he'd been up in a tree one minute, enjoying the warmth radiating out from the sun through the canopy. The next he was being viciously ripped apart by some sort of violent, poorly formed vortex! It was excruciating and robbed him of the body he'd grown quite accustomed to. When he'd reached the other side, only the fox spirit remained. He was angry and livid and had, in his rage, taken the life of a young man.
 
A man with black hair stirred from amid the bloody mess, a wound stitching itself together as he raised his head. “What a hit,” he said as he opened his eyes, one crimson and one gold. The gaze reached the bartender and came to rest. He seemed traumatized beyond comprehension… Some people just aren’t cut out for violence. Vyse stood, stretching his arms over his head as the last of the wound to his chest healed. His arms fell to his side and he walked out the door, passing the still dumbfounded bartender on the way. He hadn’t paid for his drink, but somehow the assassin didn’t think the bartender cared anymore.
 
Stepping out into the cool evening air, Vyse looked about as he idly played with the gaping hole in his shirt. This would be quite a good night, indeed. He stuffed his hands into pockets and started off, following the scent of blood. His pace quickened as he got closer.
“Hey,” he said with a wry grin as he darted in front of the woman, “That was one hell of a performance back there. Had much practice, have you? Not quite professional, but not bad at all.”

Author: Rixxan, Posted: Sun Oct 18, 2015 9:18 PM, Post Subject: Crack [P][R]

Once upon a time, Rixxan was a nice girl. She’d had very little knowledge of herself, very little knowledge of her life, and of the world itself. That was then. That was before everything that was just a “normal part of life” happened. Before she had met that boy, before their wild romance and love story, and before…

“Fuck it.” Rixxan kicked over a decorative plant, causing it to shatter against the side of the building. She whipped around to look for anyone to accuse or come after her, almost hoping for it. She could really use a good fight, but it didn’t seem like she’d be getting into one here in the dark backstreets of Vilpamolan. Growling now, she stalked around the back of the clamouring building, wringing the hilt of her sword mercilessly. The word ‘mad’ didn’t cut it. ‘Furious’ wasn’t the right brand of anger. It was complete disdain and hatred welling up in her, forcing over the brim and making it harder and harder to keep herself controlled. She used to have lots of control, in fact, more than she had ever thought she would have, but now she was always alone. Always alone. Because of it. It had taken away the only good thing in her life and left her alone. What was she supposed to do? Get over it? Not likely. She wasn’t quite the type to let things go.

Rixxan started back towards the front of the building. A dark vivacity grew in her eyes like flint and tinder trying to spark up an explosion, but this coming explosion was inevitable. She was consumed by everything inside of her, too much going on in her mind to process everything. She had already lost her mind to someone, but that wasn’t what this was. This was different. Like a steady slipping, exponentially gaining in speed until nothing was clear except for the emotions. But those, her feelings, they burned so bright within her that she could not even identify them anymore.

She opened the door, inconspicuous and unperceived to the patrons within who were too engaged with their drinking and reveling to even notice her. Her mind blacked out the world around her as it replayed everything she was striving to consign to her mental oblivion.

…One. She had loved him. Two. He was gone. Three. It was solely her fault. Four. Nothing could change the past. Five. Nothing could remove that guilt. Six. She was responsible. Seven. She needed to accept it, accept that it was all her fault, that her own selfishness had killed him. Eight. She was not a good person, she never was, and now she never would be. Nine. She had changed, and not simply because the demon had been ripped out of her. Ten. She had changed for the worse. Eleven. She had become what she hated more than anything, had become nearly the same. Twelve. 

Rixxan lowered her sword, her mind clicked back to the present and her senses returned to analyzing her surroundings, first inspecting her sanguine-splattered hands. Strange to see such a rich, crimson colour on such paperlike skin. It was beautiful in a way that only Rixxan could think was beautiful, but in her eyes the colour complimented her nearly-translucent skin like a blood moon over the winter snow.

The last standing person in the room she had just ransacked, the barkeep of the tavern, trembled while crouching behind the bar. All she could see of him was the shine of his scalp under thinning hair and his shaking fingers on the edge of the bar. Gritting her teeth, Rixxan fumbled for whatever money she had and laid it hastily upon the counter, not terribly preoccupied with however much she was leaving… but it was the least she could do, seeing as this poor man was going to have a lot of explaining to do to the authorities, as well as a lot of cleaning up to do.  

Rixxan had not started the day quite so volatile. She had a pleasant morning and afternoon, leading her to attempt a solitary dinner at this tavern, which had surprisingly filled with drunkards and scoundrels, and one of the fools had made the mistake of talking down to her, bothering and harassing her as she had tried to eat, as if she were a commonplace whore whose time could simply be paid for at the end of some disappointing and demoralizing encounter. Once he had tried to grab her arm, though, that was the end. Rixxan had lost it and shoved the man away, storming out and smashing the innocent potted plant.

That wasn’t what made her waste the tavern’s patrons. She killed them for no reason, at least not one connected to anyone of them. Trying to make sense of everything was driving her over the brink, pushing her farther and farther from herself. Was that her fault? No. It was the world’s fault, because it allowed such evil to grow within her, and that evil only existed because of an ever greater evil that had caused all of the ignominy and anguish in her life.

“Sorry for the mess,” she snapped without glancing at the man and turned to leave, riddled with disgust and the hate inside her only inflating. Nothing had any importance to her, nothing had any value. Her boots clunked down the steps of the tavern and she stood up straight, and inhaled deeply. Clearly no one of importance had been alerted to her actions yet. She ambled toward the exit of dragging her grisly sword behind her through the streets.