For Her Honor (Amon)

[Sade]

51st Winter 510AV The Courtyard of the Sky was rather quiet today, with only a few Inarta dwelling aimlessly around. The sky was somewhat overcast today, and there was a chill in the air. Evidently the Inarta had decided to stay inside in the warmth for today, a decision which Sade was beginning to support and want to uphold. The warmth of her rooms in the Eagle's Aeries was sounding absolutely delicious about now. Though she didn't know where Amon was today, so she thought it best to stay out of his way. She loved her brother... he was just a hard person to be around all the time. The past hour or so had been her break from him. Her break would soon be up. Sade was playing with her fletching knife. She was not entirely sure why she had it with her, all she knew was that it was a nervous habit to have it on her body at all times. It was not a defence thing - damned if she knew how to stab anyone, and she really didn't want to. It was just a thing Sade had, as if she always wanted to have a part of her favourite thing with her. She tapped the flat on the blade against the underside of her wrist. Ba, da dum, ba da dum. It was to a rhythm that only she knew and it wasn't even a legitimate song. To anyone else watching it probably looked as if she was contemplating death. She wasn't, she was just bored out of her skull. She jumped when a throat was cleared behind her, and watched as the tip of her blade nicked into her skin lightly, causing a couple of drops to ooze out onto her skin. Drat. She looked up at the newcomer, glaring at whoever it was. He was tall, with very light copper hair and piercing green eyes. His hands were covered in scars, though they were more jagged than Sade's - Endal then, not Avora. He had a smooth smile on his face as he extended one of those scarred hands towards Sade. "Mena. Endal. Lovely to meet you." It was clear he expected Sade to be coquettish and flattered. Sade was not one to be conquettish and flattered however. Standing up slowly, her glare dark and angry, she drew herself up to her not so impressive height and lifted up her wrist. She shoved her bleeding wrist into his face, so that all Mena saw was the blood dripping out of her wrist and not the body he wanted to ogle - Sade's. "You petching idiot!" She yelled, angry. Was the man before her, Endal or not, so stupid to believe he genuinely stood a chance? "Do you see what you did? Do you, you petching shyke?! You made me stab myself! Do you WANT me to die?!" Sade was absolutely disgusted and worried for her safety when Mena softly wrapped his long fingers around her pale milky wrist. "I am sorry milady," he said, his voice soft and silky and eyes shining and dark. "Let me kiss it better." His grip tightened and he locked her wrist in place, no matter how hard Sade tried to tug it away.. As he leaned forward, he kept his eyes locked on hers, smiling slightly. When his chapped wet lips (not a nice feeling at all) made contact with the wound, the blood smearing slightly onto his pink lips, he opened his mouth slightly. He sucked on the wound, his tongue lightly dancing across her skin. The entire time his eyes never left hers, and he never once let go of his wrist. Sade was in complete disgust the entire time. "Let petching go of me. Bastard."

[Amon]

Amon, unbeknownst to his wily sister was getting back in touch with his once kind and gregarious self. Perhaps not as fast as others would have liked, but definitely an improvement from the less than pleasant demeanor he had held for nearly a season. The rider, in fact, was speaking with a fellow Endal who he’d neglected to visit and mingled with throughout the majority of the season, and their voices carried a tinge of excitement despite the hostilities of the weather. Not fifteen chimes into the conversation a woman came running down the hall, a Chiet, from the looks of it, and called for the rider. “Amon! Your sister, a man is trying to force himself on her.” Amon glanced at the solicitous woman, whose eyes were round and her skin slick with the sweat from the run. “What man? Who is he? And where are they?” “It-It looked like an Endal, sir. At the Courtyard of the Sky. Light hair, lots of scars on his hands--” “It’s Mena.” Piped in Amon’s companion, whose wise blue eyes glanced at the rider as if in an attempt to transmit the implications of that revelation. “It looks like he’s attempting his way on another woman.” “To my sister? He wouldn’t petching dare.” “Please, sir Amon, come with me!” Amon needn’t be told twice. Before the Chiet had finished the rider had pushed past the bodies wading through the Inner Warrens with a stride that held it’s swiftness until he arrived at the Courtyard. What he saw made him pause, and before Mena could continue his debauchery Amon called his attention. “Mena!” He shouted across the Courtyard, his long strides taking him towards the perpetrator just as a fist collided into the green-eyed endal’s face. “If my sister says to release her, then petching release her.” Laughter erupted from the bloody lips of Mena, who wiped the crimson from his chin and stood to his full height. “So what if it’s your sister? I’ve slept with plenty of Endal’s kin. You’re not a special case, Amon.” A chuckle, and a scarred hand reached out and gripped Sade’s wrist to pull her into an embrace. His tongue trailed along her neck and jaw, “Delicious.” “You filthy petching shit-licker.” Amon hissed, his fury fueling his steps as he slammed another fist into the Endal’s jaw. His hold on Sade slackened, and he stumbled, laughing and spluttering blood. “Gonna have to do better than that,” He spat, grinning red.

[Sade]

"Amon!" Sade called out, relief washing through her in waves. Her brother was here. He would talk to this Mena man, who too had turned to Amon and watched him stride towards them. Mena's tongue never stopped tracing a spine chilling pattern on Sade's wrist. Of course, this was Amon. And of course, he was not going to talk to Mena rationally. Relief disappated and dismay settled in as she watched Amon's fist plow into Mena's face. Though not the most diplomatic answer to the seedy man, it was certainly an effective one. Sade, hoping that his grip may have loosened with the punch, but though she tugged and tugged, she could not get away. She was by no means a weakling, trained in archery - it served to show just how strong Mena was. Sade did not pay much attention to Amon protecting her. He was a big boy, and he could handle it. She knew she was in safe hands now that Amon was here. Instead, she focused on trying to tug away from Mena. She placed her smaller hand on his smooth long fingered one to try and pry away from him. It came as some surprise, then, when Mena tugged her closer into an embrace. Keeping a hold of her wrist, he dragged Sade's arms forcibly around his, and ran his slimy tongue along her collar bone and up her neck, sucking hard enough just under Sade's jaw to leave a mark. Sade cried out in disgust, and would have said something, but Amon beat her to the punch - quite literally. Amon came at Mena, and plunged his fist into his face, splitting Mena's lip. Mena stumbled from the force of the blow, and as he spluttered blood from his throat and down his chin, he released Sade, inadvertently. Sade made no time in wrenching away from him and running to Amon. She placed a hand on his chest, looking up to him and tried to coax him away. "Amon, please. Let's go, it's over. Come on, I'm okay." Sade screamed with shock when she felt two hands grab her around the waist and pull her back to press against Mena's chest. Mena thrust forward, and Sade could feel evidence of his growing love for this game he was playing with Amon and Sade. "Your name is Sade? That's a beautiful name." With this he ran a hand down her side and cupped her breasts. "Too bad Amon is your brother." Sade was shivering. It had gone too far too fast. She looked at Amon with wide eyes, eyes that had begun to water with tears, tears that belied just how uncomfortable Sade was. Her eyes were silently begging Amon, as she swallowed nervously, please, get me out dear brother. Please.

[Amon]

Soiling his sister with those filthy hands was beyond anything the Endal could stand. He was at an edge, his temper flaring, his nerves tingling, and his bloodied knuckles ready to beat the wretched man into a macabre pile of blood, bones and guts. Make him hurt, Sakima piped in, He hungers for your fists, the least you can do is oblige. That was all the encouragement Amon needed. There was a menacing grin curled on his lips and those golden eyes flashed with vehemence; with a frenzy. “You tread the water too deeply, Mena, you want blood? I’ll give you plenty of it.” Amon barely flinched as Mena dragged his sister once again into his arms. The thoughts he harbored coincided with Sakima’s. Kill him. He is filth, he is pathetic, he soils your name and the name of your sister. Leave nothing to spare. The grin widened. Mena glanced up at the stationary Endal, the laughter dying on his lips. He barely had a chance to open his filthy mouth before he felt Amon’s elbow smash into his jaw, dislocating it. Mena shoved Sade aside, who quickly fled to the corner of the Courtyard, her heart making a pounding escape into her throat. The filthier of the two hollered in agony, but his obscenities held no form of their own with a mouth that could no longer move. He spluttered saliva and blood as Amon continued a relentless assault with his fists. Pounding into his stomach with a vicious perseverance, and sending a colliding knee to his groin. Mena doubled over, and the golden-eyed Endal quickly took the opportunity to attack his exposed head. But Mena was not without due retaliation. He grabbed Amon’s leg and tugged it, forcing the rider collapsing onto his back. There he sent his own fists smashing into Amon’s temple, sending sparks of flashing lights into his vision. Warm blood trickled down his cheek, but that hardly deterred the Endal. As Mena was preparing for another pounding Amon sent his knuckles colliding under the green-eyed rider’s chin. There was an audible crack and Mena roared in pain, stumbling backwards. It was there, through the heat of the assault that ensued, Mena pulled out a blade. MOVE! Sakima shrieked, sending a jolt of panic through the rider as the opposing Endal sent the dagger down on his head. Amon, upon picking himself up off the ground, had ducked, but that move had cost him more than just a harmless nick. Mena had anticipated it, and had been quick to make a sweep with the blade across the rider’s face, catching his left eye and carving a deep gash into his cheek and the bridge of his nose. The resulting pain, even dulled by adrenaline, forced a maddening roar from his lips.

[Amon]

I can’t see. Sakima, I can’t petching see, Amon’s thoughts swirled in a chaos of sudden panic and waves of fury. He clutched at his face with a hand, stumbling backwards, blinking furiously as tears from his left optic left a wet trail through the blood splattered across his cheek. Focus! Sakima urged, Use your right eye, focus on it, forget the left, deal with that later. That bastard’s still up. Amon, a hand covering the wound now bleeding profusely, glanced up at Mena, who, despite his now unfortunate deformity managed a literally crooked grin. He dribbled blood and saliva, and whatever other fluids he managed to harbor in that mouth, before charging at the rider with his bloodied blade. Amon’s animosity intensified, groomed by Sakima’s enthusiasm. He clenched his jaw, nearly missing the tip of the dagger by a hair’s breadth, but that left a clear opening for his own assault. He jerked his knee against the man’s groin once more, making him double over with a jumbled groan. Amon slammed his elbow into Mena’s head, sending him collapsing back onto the floor. It was there that the wrestle for the blade began. Sweat and blood coated the both of them, making their attempts at constraining the other futile. They rolled over one another, sending flying fists and grasping at the handle of the dagger that clattered a foot away. A fist collided with Amon’s injured eye, sending a spark of pain and a cry from his lips, but the rider retaliated with another hit to Mena’s broken jaw. It was only in a span of several chimes that Amon managed to extend a hand far enough to grasp the slick handle of the weapon and then immediately stabbed it directly in the center of Mena’s forehead. There was a pause in motion, the widened green-eyes of his opponent, and then the subsequent collapse. But in his mind, Amon only saw it as a final opening. A declaration of victory. He straddled Mena’s limp body, pounding into his face and chest, until his knuckles became raw and bloody themselves, leaving a throbbing pain that subdued the agony of his blind eye. Sade, who had watched the entire exchange, ran to her frenzied brother and wrapped her arms around his back, pulling. “Stop it!” She screamed, “He’s dead, Amon, he’s gone! Stop! It’s over!” It would be several chimes and several more individuals before the Endal found himself torn away from the corpse and collapsing from the pain. And in his thoughts, Amon found no solace, not when the monster that slept in the recesses finally awakened. Fin!

[Flicker]

Character: Amon Skill Experience Award: Brawling 3, Wrestling 2 Lores: An urgent request for his immediate and most honorable presence Mending Ties Jumping to the defense of his sister The business end of a knife fight Eye juice Losing an eye Sakima's kind of crazy Killing another Winning a battle to do the death Comments: Amon can no longer see out of his left eye, it's been damaged and will need serious medical attention to do any repair. Sade XP: None Awarded Lore: Not slicing quite deep enough to do the world a favor An Endal with verbal manners and a detestable personality Having blood sucked nastily When a brother's presence is appreciated Face rape Trying to stop a fight True fear The consequences of the arrogant path What Amon will kill over A brother's love Comments: If you find something I've missed or made a mistake with, feel free to communicate with me via PM or office.