[Stumble Alley] A meeting in Stumble Alley [Casper]

[Desya Gold]

Desya stiffened at his hand, so surprised that she nearly growled at him. She wasn't used to the physical contact, though after glancing over her shoulder she saw the reason for it. She did as he said, practically forgetting the pain in her leg. "So, where are you from?" She murmured, considerably more serious and much less cheerful than before. She slid her hand into her cloak and wrapped her fingers around her dagger again.

[Casper]

"Are you petchin' sseriouss?" He whispered harshly when she asked him the question. Why was this Desya so intent on... getting to know him? It was infuriating. "Thiss iss hardly the time," he said, turning around to see if he could still see the men. Gone. Had he imagined it? No, he hadn't. But maybe they had given up-- "Why, hello," The stranger's voice sent a shiver down Casper's spine. He turned to see where the words came from. He could make out the silhouette, only a few meters behind them, creeping in the shadow of a building. He couldn't tell if there was one or two men behind the supposed leader. "Say, that's a real pretty lady ye got there. I hope you won't mind if we share." The man was clearly loving the intimidation act he was pulling. There was a glint of a blade. Casper quickly glanced at Desya, hoping that she actually knew how to use that knife of hers.

[Desya Gold]

This time Desya did growl, though it was nowhere near as threatening as it would have been if she were in her other form. Baring her teeth at the men she drew her dagger from her pocket. The group of men stank of ale, and they swayed gently as they leered down at her. It took her a moment to understand what the leader meant by 'share', but her blood began to boil as she understood. If only I could shift. she thought to herself. She was much more comfortable fighting in her wolf form than in her human form, as she wasn't nearly as talented with her dagger as she wished. She drew the blade from its sheath, and glanced at Cass, wondering if he had a weapon to defend himself. She doubted it, unless he had some clever place to hide it. Glaring Desya took a slight step back.

[Casper]

The leader of the group laughed without restraint as Desya took her fighting stance. "That's cute. That really is. And ye ain't gonna draw yer weapon? You'll let the girl fight for ye, eh?" Casper's eyes flared in response. He clenched his fists hard, feeling his own nails digging into them. "Ssay that again when you show your face, Petch," he retorted with a snarl. It was enough to provoke the thug into action. He swiftly closed the distance between them, thrusting a short sword in his direction. His movements were clumsy and predictable enough for Casper to move off to the side, smelling the strong stench of alcohol in the proximity. In his peripheral vision, he saw another man emerge from the shadows making his way for Desya. Whatever, Casper's hands were full with the one man already. Let the girl deal with the second assailant. The man took a while to notice that his thrust had not hit anything, and, spotting Casper off to the side, took another swing, almost losing his footing in the process. Casper jumped backwards. He found it easy to dodge his attacks, but he couldn't exactly get up close as the drunkard flailed the menacing weapon around.

[Desya Gold]

The other man lumbered towards her. He was tall and thick in build, easily twice the size of her, and probably twice as strong. She took a few light steps backward, hoping to lure him out of the alleys mouth, and he followed easily, a thuggish grin playing over his unpleasant mug. He barreled towards her, raising a heavy fist and swiped at her, which she ducked easily. Glancing over to where Cass was, she saw him facing off with the armed man. She bit her lip, hoping he would be okay without a weapon. He seemed to be doing fine, but still, it was in her nature to worry. She turned back around just in time to dodge blow that probably would have broken a few of her ribs, maybe even kill her. She slashed at the man with her dagger, opening up a shallow cut across his forearm, and wondered if he was from the blood pits. He had that look about him. She didn’t necessarily want to kill him, but she would if she had to. She hoped that she would be able to find a way to knock to guy out before her luck ran out.

[Casper]

He had to think about what he could do before the man did something too unpredictable. For now, he simply kept his distance, and when the thug lurched forward, Casper would merely jump back a few steps in response. "Stop movin', you petchin' weasel!" The man cried in frustration, making another dramatic thrust with his weapon. Casper simply stepped back, but this time, had woefully miscalculated the distance between him and a pile of broken chairs that someone had thrown out. His heel caught on a chair leg and he fell backwards without grace into the wooden pile. Suddenly panicked as he saw the dark figure looming in with an unbearably large grin, adrenaline shot through his body at a speed that Casper could have compared to a... well, he could have compared it to something, if his mind wasn't focused on the imminent danger that was a sword being raised right above his head. Just as the sword descended toward the ground, he rolled over to avoid it, and kicked the drunkard in the knee, who promptly lost his balance and fell to the ground. Grabbing a splintered piece of wood from under him, Casper got up to his knees and dug it through the man's chest before he could recover from his fall. Scrambling up to his feet and taking a few steps back lest the man had energy left to swing the sword he still gripped tightly in his hand, he took a moment to observe what he had done. A pool of blood was already starting to form under him as he took his last shallow breaths of air before dying. Panting heavily, Casper put his hands on his knees, chuckling in pride at his victory. It felt like minutes before he remembered that he had been with a girl before the attack, and he looked around, wondering where she was. They had gone in different directions when the fight began. Perhaps she had retreated into that alley? Still drunk with adrenaline, he made his way there, curious as to who had turned out victor in her battle.

[Desya Gold]

The man charged at her and she leapt back, barely avoiding his attack. He made a grab for her and she dodged, slashing at his unprotected side. The man staggered around to face her. Desya stiffened, realizing that the man had turned her around so that now his back faced the mouth of the alley. He grinned at her, and Desya felt fear coil in her gut. Glancing over her shoulder quickly she noticed that the alley was much smaller than she had first assumed, the end, a tall brick wall was barely a meter behind her. The man slammed into her with his full force, pushing her back, into the wall. The surprise and force of the impact caused Desya’s hand to spring open, her dagger clattering to the ground. Desya gritted her teeth. The man was huge, and it didn't feel to great having a man his size sandwich you against a wall. The man’s hands came up around her throat and he began to squeeze. Desya wheezed and chocked, kicking at him. He ignored her kicks, an awful grin on his face. Concentrating Desya aimed her kicks this time and kicked him as hard as she could muster, still chocking and gasping with her nails scrabbling against his meaty wrist. Her aim was true and the man released her, staggering back a step before doubling over to clutch his manhood. Desya sucked in a few hurried breaths before scrambling for her dagger and straightening up to stand over the man. She raised the dagger above her head and plunged it down, into the mans muscled shoulder. He man grunted in pain and the one arm holding him up collapsed, taking him to the ground, and Desya, dagger still plunged into his back, with him. He was still alive though, and he strained to push himself back up. Desya pulled her dagger free and stabbed again. Blood spurted, gushing around her hands. She stabbed again. The man fell limp, but was still breathing. She stabbed again. Blood splashed into her face. Finally Desya staggered back, pulling her dagger free and slumped against the wall, breathing heavily. The man was still, dead. Blood covered her hands and had stained the front of her white top, and blood had splashed onto her check. A movement before her caught her eye and she looked up. Cass stood there, looking oover the scene in interest. There was blood on his own hands.

[Casper]

There she was at the end of the short alley, just getting up from where the corpse lay, dislodging her dagger from his body with a quick jerk. There was a certain dark humor in the way her small frame towered over a man twice her size. Her golden eyes met with his, standing out eerily from the tangled hair that fell over her face. There was a deadly alluring quality to the way the blood on her cheek matched those inhuman eyes of hers. He walked up to her with a satisfied smile, stopping a few paces from her and peering over at the carcass behind her. Seeing the man sprawled out awkwardly across the floor, there was something more than the pool of blood under him that suggested that he was indeed dead. Coming down slightly from his adrenaline rush, Casper realized that this was the first time he had actually murdered someone. For some reason, it felt like something he had done before, and this one kill was like riding a bicycle again after learning it a lifetime ago. It felt terrific. "Sso you do know how to usse that," he looked up from the body and back to Desya. It was strange that a few minutes ago, he had found her unbearably annoying, but now he felt a certain attraction towards her. "We should probably get out of here," he said after a few moments, realizing that he had been staring at her, and it would be dangerous to linger in this dangerous street any longer.

[Desya Gold]

Straightening Desya wiped her dagger on the hem of her shirt and sheathed it, sliding it back into her pocket. Nodding to Cass in agreement she turned leading the way out of the alley with a sigh. Her entire body hurt. Her leg, the cuts across her cheek, and now her throat. She massaged it, taking a few deep breaths. She was looking forward to going home and sleeping for the entire next day. She cringed as she passed the other man’s body, looking away from the ragged hole in the middle of his chest. "Are you alright?" she asked quietly, glancing around to Cass. He didn't look to bad, he actually looked pretty good, happy even. Her voice was raspy and she coughed a few times in an effort to clear it.

[Casper]

They got out of the alleyway and started heading back down the street, passing by the man Casper had killed on their way. He took a good hard look at the wound that killed him as well as the man's face. He felt that he ought to remember this moment properly, as his "first kill". As they walked, he tried to recollect his memories while they were still fresh in his mind. He tried to remember his fear that spurred him into kicking the man, the sensation of hope when he saw his chance to strike. The abominable sound of something being squashed when he sunk the splintered wood into his chest was music to his ears. He repeated it in his head, but already he could tell that the memory was fading. He wanted to do it again, just to hear that satisfying sound again... "Are you alright?" He jerked his head up, remembering that Desya was there. He couldn't tell for how long he had been smiling to himself, daydreaming. "I'm fine," he said quickly, wiping the smirk off his face. Thinking for a moment, he remembered death was rather frowned upon among humans, and what he did was considered wrong even if the drunk bastard deserved it. He personally could not wrap his head around something so absurd, but it was a lesson he was taught by his mother many years ago, and he tried to respect it. He replayed the event in his head, but besides the ache in his back from his fall, he could see nothing wrong. The girl, however, seemed to be in much worse shape than he was. Along with the cut on her cheek, there was a long, red mark across her neck that provided enough explanation as to why her voice was so weak when she spoke to him. Not to mention the limp that she had already had since before. Strangely enough, his new-found fondness for the girl made him feel a certain sympathy for her. Perhaps he could help her back to wherever she lived after she showed him the way to Pig's foot. It was common courtesy, as his mother told him, and he might as well jump on the chance to do it now that he actually wanted to. It would be good karma.