Solo The True Colours of Anger.

[Alexander Faircroft]

Timestamp: 20th Fall 516AV

Location: Kenash.

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"


The heat of Kenash was something that Alex never really doubted, especially this close to summer. He was genuinely shocked as to how people withstood the heat and humidity of this place. Even with himself feeling like he was trapped in a steel can. However despite this he didn’t fully register it over the slow grinding feeling of having no leads on the one thing he’d come here to find. His father.

Sat on s small bench near the edge of one of the main streets, staring out over the marshy expanse of the city he sighed heavily, unsure of how to go about this, he’d spent twenty of the twenty five days he’d requested hunting down his father with no avail, no luck, not even a small glimmer of a chance of him actually being here.

Now baking beneath the heated sky and the belated beating of the light of Syna he felt his hope starting to wane. Starting to falter.
Twenty days, nothing. Twenty days of searching for absolutely nothing. His hands slipped up through his hair and brushed the sweat damp strands from his face. He bent over looking towards the ground. Scanning the baked soil for any kind of sign. As if it was going to tell him magically which way to go, which path to take to find him.

“And then I punched him square in the jaw!” The voice roared out before trailing off. Loud and boisterous, and one Alex knew too well. Launching up from the bench almost in slight disbelief Alex took off racing behind the voice. His hands shaking lightly. He wasn’t dead. He lied. And now Alex had a dual purpose. To both find him and find out the real reason as to why. Why he’d just up and left him behind.

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"


Alex chased after the voice turning the corners of the crowded streets and bursting through the main archways and over bridges, chasing the source of that voice. His hands gripped tightly into firm balls his eyes scanning the crowd like he was trying to pull a needle out of a hay stack. The voice simultaneously grew more distant and closer for some strange reason, throwing Alex off the right path, the intermingling voices dragging through the crowded street.

Training with the knights prepped him for none of this instead it just made him more and more confused.
Where are you… Damnit just show yourself! I’ve so many things to ask you… Alex rounded another corner the dust piling up behind him the heart bearing down up on him but something inside of him was blocking the exertion and exhaustion. Not sure whether it was just his own willpower or something else he shrugged it off and pressed on with the hunt. He was hunting down his father come hai or high water. His feet skidded against the tightly packed dirt caking the stonework of Kenash’s streets. The steel sending small sparks from the sudden scrape and reduction in speed.

Five chimes. Ten chimes, fifteen. The time drew longer and longer as Alex searched for the source of that voice. The intermingling shouts and sounds swelling further and further as he slipped through the main market. The one good thing was that the laughter carried. The weighty voice carried over the shopkeeper’s cries and the marketers sales. He had a direct path and as he followed the group lead further and further from the main square almost like they were taking a direct route to try and lose Alex. A mix of determination and something baser pushed him on. Until finally his eyes caught sight of the group that he’d been tailing, four men walking alongside his father. And still out of all of them his father not only towered but loomed over them. Broadness of shoulder and thickness of muscle and sinew.

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"


Alex swallowed dryly and steeled himself drinking down a breath he held it for a tick, his voice cracking the first time he tried to speak, a soft squeak of nothing but anxiety and fear. His hands tightened harder into firmer spheres, the steel creaking and groaning as it slipped off of itself. His determination dug deep his voice finding purchase and with it steel.
“Randall Kravenedge!” The softly spoken voice of Alex found a thunderous weight. The light breeze now a roaring gale. His words found their purchase his voice its strength. The cutting edge lining them was enough for him to cut the silence and even overpower his own fathers booming words. His father stopped mid-step, turning to glance over his shoulder. A short look only catching the edge of Alex’s plated armour.

“I don’t recall giving reason for a Syliran knight to hunt after me. Though then again with the amount of…” Randall paused as he turned to glance now at the fully grown and standing tall Alex. Coated in plate and lined with blades. Sweat pouring down his face and a fragility in his stance.
“Well this is a sight to see. The little snot nosed kid all grown up in the last year, and finally found his voice has he?” Randal chuckled darkly glaring at his son now. Turning his back to his friends and marching towards Alex now still towering massively over even Alex. His signature blade strung across his back. “What boy? Nothing to say now that I can see you? You always were a coward when confronted.”

“Why did you leave?” Alex only asked the question lightly, his words again like a soft whisper on a rolling wind. His Strong posture suddenly starting to crumple at the memories that began to flood his mind, each moment of torment and abuse piling up and compounding. Smothering his determination and his composure, his courage crushed, bravery broken, and now he was the scared little boy again.

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"


There was a pause between the two of them. A sullen moment for Alex as he dwelled and held back waiting for an answer, something, anything. Alex just needed a reason why, why he left him in a strange city alone. Alex’s father on the other hand just folded his arms and cocked his head to the side watching Alex fold up again.
“I don’t need to watch after a child. Let alone one who could barely keep his own feet under him.” Before Alex could react a large fist screamed through the air and struck him across the face. Alex took it hard across the chin a string of blood now pouring from a cut across his lip.
“And I don’t need a useless brat dragging me down!” Randall roared out and another fist came through the space and across the side of Alex’s temple sending white spots across his vision. Alex took a step back and shook his head lightly to shake them free. “I figured if you thought I was dead you’d leave and go finally join your “mother”. Oh sorry you didn’t know did you?” Another third strike came across as a large ringing sound rumbled over his body as Randall’s knee made contact with the steel over Alex’s abdomen. Causing Alex to double over, breath rushing out of his form.

“The more things change, the more they stay the same. You’re still a snivelling coward. Perhaps Rebecca would enjoy having her “adoptive” son with her in death!” A loud cackle emanated as Randall’s fist came down towards Alex’s head. As it was about to make contact a loud clap rang out. The sound of leather against leather.
“What do you mean…” Alex Asked not looking up, a hard edge to his soft almost broken voice.
“Wow, you really are a dumb kid. Did it never occur to you, you don’t look anything like myself or Rebecca?”
“Not that.” Alex spoke again a quaver to his voice.
“Oh you mean her death.” Randall sneered.

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"


A sharp pain ran across Randall’s arm as Alex tightened his grip, anger welling beneath the surface.
“Please tell me you didn’t.” Alex spoke now with a tone of voice that almost sound like a whisper crossing the night. That faint trail that you’re never truly sure if it was ever there.
“Kill her?” Randal spoke masking his pain well. Something he’d grown very used too. “Fifteen years. You wouldn’t know what that’s like. Fifteen years I had to deal with her attentions split between you and her work.” Randall almost growled out anger in his own voice. “Fifteen years I suffered you. I watched her dote over you. And I would have killed you when you were ten, if she hadn’t smacked the crossbow out of my hands. That bolt would have pierced your throat. Instead, it got your shoulder.” His other hand streamed towards Alex’s head, and instead of contact it found Alex’s other hand locking them in a position which Randall normally would have overpowered him from easily, but this wasn’t normal. Gritting his teeth and now spitting out his words Randal continued.

“Why should some snivelling brat get more of her attention than me?!” He wrestled against Alex’s grip and found no give. “So yeah, I poisoned her. I couldn’t kill her outright without everyone knowing it was me, so a couple of drops in her morning tea and that was that…”
“So…” Alex started his voice like crushed glass. “You’re saying it was because of me… You killed her?” A tremor crept into his voice as he spoke.
My fault, my fault, my fault, myfaultmyfaultmyfault… The words circled around his head incessantly like a swirling haze of pain and then something in his head clicked. No…It’s his fault she’s gone, and now he pays. A sound now echoed throughout the empty space, similar to the sound of porcelain shattering. Along with the sound of Randall screaming out as Alex brought his left hand holding Randall's arm down and his left knee up.

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"


As the sound echoed and the scream rang out the four friends charged up behind Randall. Alex instead of letting his father go, he tossed him backwards with a furious rage. Outside he looked calm at least until his face flicked up. There was a look of hurt and sadness mixed with a vitriol that he couldn’t even begin to fathom. Alex wasn’t the most physically imposing, nor intimidating person. Everything about him seemed approachable and easy, if a little melancholic right now however he was the antithesis. There was a feeling of pure unyielding malice flowing from him. A rage he didn’t think he held. The four hardened men hesitated a brief moment as Alex threw Randal between them.

That pause was long enough for Alex to pull free the blades at his hips. The steel grinding into the tight packed ground.
“First one to get in my way… Doesn’t leave unarmed.” Alex’s words were, cold, distant, detached. Yet so full of hatred and anger that they almost seemed like a icy wind through the smouldering heat. He took a step forwards. Eyes hardened and the electricity of determination that filled them was now gone, almost like it had been frozen. His anger so strong in this moment he stood to his full height towering over all but his father.

“He’s just a boy! Get him!” The first one swung at him a large blade straight at Alex’s chest. The steel creaked but Alex took the blow barely even moving with the impact. Rage was a hell of a painkiller. Alex shifted his frigid and icy gaze at the one who’d hit him. Without even a single sound he brought the hilt of his right blade into the man’s gut. The leather doing little to stop the force. Hitting like a hammer the man doubled over eyes bulging in pain.
“I’ll say it again. For the idiots amongst you.” Alex’s soft voice found that thunderous weight again. “The next one to stand in front of me, I’m just going to kill.”

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"


Alex swung his eyes across the remaining three, his knuckles white beneath the steel. It was a strange sight to see three men standing stock still. Each one weighing up the odds of not wining but walking away alive. Another step. Heavy. The steel shook with each step the plate shifting with Alex’s movements. The only one who moved was Randall gripping his right arm in pain. The fingers of it limp and the arm itself already starting to swell. Another step. Each impact with the tight packed ground made it clear that Alex had no designs on anyone other than his father. As such the other three picked up their friend and made a break for it.

“You killed her… Because she wouldn’t devote all of her time to you.” Alex stepped closer again his hands gripping the blades hard enough to make his hands hurt. “You selfish. Arrogant, absolute… Prick!” He stabbed the tip of his blades into the sun cracked earth. Each one now standing free he continued his walk over to his father. His voice cutting and on the verge of breaking not just in anger but in despair.

Alex didn’t even give him the chance to defend himself Charging forwards and driving his shoulder into Randall’s midsection toppling him over. And slamming both of them into the dirt. Alex then swung his leg over and pinned his father to the floor. The ice that loomed in his eyes shifted to a bottomless abyss. Five years he’d looked for his mother’s killer. Five, years. And all the while he’d been within Arm’s reach each and every single day… His hands tightened into fists again, the steel creaking from the force. Alex swung. Hard. Randall lifted his one good arm to try and block the strike but Alex just punched his arm smashing it into his face.
“She wasn’t even your real mother!” Randall spat out in an attempt to stun Alex to no avail. Another fist smashed into Randall’s face. This time making contact and sending a tooth skittering across the ground.
“And you’re not my father.” Alex’s response was cold, hard, and extremely distant.

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"


Alex slammed his fist into Randal’s face again, another loud crack and wet slap of steel on flesh. Again and again his hands found purchase on the subject of his unyielding undying fury. And between each punch he spoke.
“You…Absolute…Petching…Monster…How…Could…YOU!” Another slam. He didn’t wat him to die just yet. He wanted him to feel the pain, the anguish the torture he’d inflicted upon him all those years. He paused holding his anger back long enough to ask questions and now seeing the face or Randal starting to swell. Several teeth broken and cracked.
“I don’t care if she wasn’t my real mother. She treated me like a son. Like I was family.” He hit Randall again this time taking from his bracer one of the daggers he hid on his person. Jamming the blade into Randall’s shoulder. The steel finding it’s way to slip between his collar bone and the ball joint of his shoulder. Alex knew if he moved that arm he was most likely going to render it completely useless.
“If you’re not my real parents where are they…?” Alex asked slowly twisting the knife. Something inside him had snapped. Something twisted and dark had found its way to the surface and now Alex was letting it free. Just, this, once. Randall could see it, and he could feel the blade twisting in his shoulder. Randall's features curled into a smile. “I asked you a petching question.” Alex’s voice rolled out again instead of voluminous and powerful it was cold and dark. Instead of feeling anything else Randall just kept smiling.
“What does it matter?” He started to laugh through the pain and swelling. “You want to kill me either way. What's the harm in telling ya.” Randall pushed upwards curling his body to push his face closer to Alex’s almost ignoring the pain like some kind of monster. “I killed your father….And I would have killed you if Rebecca hadn’t stepped in. As for your mother who knows where she is, two copper whore is probably off ‘servicing' some lowlife for a meal.” Alex held a dark gaze into Randall’s own mocking eyes.
“You’re not a Kravenedge or a Faircroft. You’re just the mistake of some whore and a failure.” Randall started to laugh slowly. “You’re less than nothing.”

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"


With a hard shunt Randal threw Alex off of him and back a few feet. Landing on his ass Alex held still for a few moments as Randall scrambled up from the ground pulling free the blade from his shoulder. Dropping the small blade to the ground. And unhooking the blade from his back.
“Y’know boy. For a failure, no an accident. You’re actually a really good punching bag. You have been for years.” Randall smiled and lifted the blade over his head ready to bring it down on Alex, who sat there unmoving. The blade started its descent and Alex rolled to the side, his weight carrying him across the floor as he rolled back to his blades grabbing them to hoist himself back up.

His hands tightened around the leather grips of his blades. His head still hung and his eyes low towards the ground. The tips of the blades dropped, digging small trenches in the earth.
“Where’d that fire go? That spark? Did finding out that you’re nothing but a waste throw you! Huh!” Randall charged Alex again, the huge blade parting the distance between them. Alex turned to the side the edge of the blade scraping along the steel chest plate sending sparks up and illuminating his face from below. Now Randall could see. And for the first time he sparked a small flicker of fear across his face, and retreated.

There was solid anger on Alex’s face. One that only knew how to project a hollow façade of emotions. A fake veneer of humanity was now truly showing how he felt. There wasn’t a word, not a single sound escaping him. The fury was too strong to speak, he could feel his teeth straining under the pressure like a floodgate holding his words back. He slammed his foot into the ground and rocketed off towards Randall. The gap between them closed in less than two heartbeats.

His mind a white wash through his head only one phrase repeated over and over and over in his mind.
Kill him, kill him, kill him, killhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhim, KILL HIM! Alex lashed out with his right blade towards Randall’s torso swinging his right arm carrying the blade he parried the strike, Alex just twisted to follow through with his left arm carving a deep gash across Randall’s chest. The dry sunbaked earth sucked down the fresh blood staining the once pale and sun-bleached ground a dull muddy red.

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"


Randall stepped back more shocked than angry. Pondering over when exactly Alex had learned to fight.
“Well looks like that time with the tin-cans taught you well. Show me what you can do, trash.” Randal brought his blade up and around looking to catch Alex’s feet out from beneath him. The second strike even with a fractured arm came around. Alex managed to back step the strike at his legs from the blade but the follow up step from the damaged arm caught him off guard, cracking him across the jaw and sending him reeling. He stepped back a flash of white across his eyes, but a familiar pain. One he was used too. He just bore it stepping forwards and Trailing his left blade through the open space the steel catching nothing but air as Randall back stepped out of the way.

“Surprise attacks only work once. Didn’t they teach you that?” Randall Cackled and then swung the blade down from above. Alex raised both of his swords to catch the massive strike and buckled slightly under the weight, dropping to a knee and taking the strain of the impact through his shoulders. “Back where you belong on your knees, teetering on the edge of me killing you…” Randall burst out laughing and pressed his weight into the sword. Alex strained and then as the pressure came seized his chance. He twisted his blades to the side using a technique Revy once used on him although somewhat adapted. He slid Randall’s blade off and into the dirt twisting his own blades. Alex’s sword bit flesh and he tore into it as he pulled back. The gash deep on Randall’s arm, the left bone fractured and a deep carve into the meat right the way down to the bone.

Alex rose again and Randal bled heavily onto the dirt.
“Eighteen…” Alex managed to push the words out. Forcing them past the anger. “Years of torment, pain, misery. Suffered, and endured. You killed the one person that made it bare able. And now you tell me I suffered it because you killed my real parents?!” Alex’s anger boiled over. His eyes cold and hard. “You just need to die.”