Closed Mizas or Prison? [Ricky Maze]

Black gets caught by a Wave Guard...

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Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]

Mizas or Prison? [Ricky Maze]

Postby Black Onyx on September 11th, 2014, 4:23 pm

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Day 2, Autumn, 514 AV
~21st Bell, Nightfall


A sigh caressed her lips as she leaned against the side of the kelp bar, her right shoulder pressed into the wall beside the door as she hugged her left arm close to her being. The burn on her forearm still pained her greatly, but she needed to make mizas and no one was going to do it for her. Her survival counted on her being able to make mizas, to steal from those that were just plain unlucky to have bumped into her. The name Black… She mused was indeed an appropriate name for her, just as her mentor had described it to her, she was meant to steal. The young equine had strived since then and she hoped that she made her mentor proud. However, she wasn’t exactly sure whether she should be out and about, continuing with her activities in her condition. Her physical condition wasn’t good, for the burn upon her left arm tugged and pulled with every move that she made with her left arm. This kind of pain would make her movements rather slow, so she had hoped to prey upon the drunk. The drunken men were more likely to not pay attention to a small tug at their pockets, or a bump, shove, grab and run. For they were too busy trying to keep their balance.

However, Black was doing this on little to no sleep and most factors were slow to register, in fact, she was positive that at some point, she would just pass out. She lifted her right hand to drag across her facial features that was currently exposed from not having pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head. The young equine was probably no better than a drunk man, however, she just had to try, for her survival counted on her being able to pull herself out of this funk. She would then turn to press her back to the wall as her chin lifted to view the night sky, the sparkly white dots twinkling with their normal night time routine. Sometimes she wondered if they were living things up there, whether they ever grew tired of what they did. She wasn’t exactly sure what part of the thieving life she was tired of, she had food, mizas and a bed to sleep in and that had happened because of her profession. In fact, it used to thrill her to steal a purse full of mizas and get away with it. What had changed in her life that now made her so tired? What aspect of her life changed so drastically that made her re-think some of her own steps?

Jadlin. It was Jadlin she sighed as her brown hues closed at this line of thought. She was re-thinking her steps because she had a lot more to lose now and he was the one that kept her awake at night. Where was he? What had happened to him? Why didn’t he want her to see him? It was then that a man stumbled out of the Kelp Bar and caught her attention, loud curses and words sprung from his lips as he shouted back at whom-ever threw him out. A simple scoff fell upon her own lips as her gaze flickered over his large form. He wasn’t exactly someone that she wanted to tangle with for he had quite the upper body strength, however, his pocket bulged a little, indicting a little profit could still be made. Hell, the drawstring to his purse was swinging from his pocket, she noted as he began down the street, he was an easy mark if she could just manoeuvre it right. She shrugged off of the wall with a pained groaned before she began to make her way after the male, her steps slow, but his was obviously slower, so it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle to gain ground on him.
Last edited by Black Onyx on September 21st, 2014, 9:18 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Mizas or Prison? [Ricky Maze]

Postby Ricky Maze on September 17th, 2014, 10:20 pm

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Slam did the fist of another "gentleman" of a sailor go as it hit the left shoulder of the body, as pain shot through and radiated through that entire area all while the bar rustled about and cheered as bets on who was going to win were made. "My money's on that petcher!" as well as "Keep those fists up vagik!" were all the common ones that the participants could register, all while the drunken haze of the world dulled the excitement that rushed through the mind as only one thing could be focused on. Ricky staggered back into the circle of the crowd and felt hands all upon his back, pushing him to get back in the middle of the ring made for him to fight with the sailor that had a "slight disagreement" with him.

What that disagreement was earlier wasn't something Ricky could remember exactly just now, all he knew was that it resulted in a bet between both men only because he was too foolishly drunk to know what. The exact wording had been forgotten at this point as it was irrelevant anyway, but given that Ricky's mood had been less than cheery lately the Kelp Beer was meant to help lighten that up some. Except it didn't, instead it only resulted in bitter stress that he needed to ventilate. Which is why he wasn't so much against this fight now, compared to before where he didn't really want to partake, that is without good reason of course. As he teetered back towards the sailor he couldn't help but watch in awe as his stumble forward nearly made him suffer a punch to the face, fortune on his side as he felt only the brush of wind tackle his features instead when the fist passed over. That was when he went into a tackle, using what gained momentum he had to push the big fellow over as they both crashed on the floor then.

The bar keep shouted something regarding to the fight and how it started to get out of hand, all while the other men bellowed on and hoped to see a little more excitement before these two where kicked out. Of course that's exactly how it unfolded too, which several more punches traded and a reversal that led to Ricky being the one floored, all he remembered next was feeling another heavy handed hit to his forehead as the impact teamed up with floor to inflict more pain on his skull. Damn it!! The fisherman swore as his left hand sheltered that part of his face, before he would allow the sailor to land another hit though he reached for something he could use. Anything really seeing as how it was a desperate moment, which of course as soon as he felt his free hand grasp at some object, the fisherman unveiled his face so he could see what ever it was as he brought it up to use in self defense. A glass mug. Of course that would be the very object he found, he almost felt sorry for the poor bastard that was on top of him, but that depended on how bad the sailor would be injured upon impact.

There was no way for him to dodge it though, seeing as the damned fool thought he could go in for a second or third punch. Thus when the mug collided into the sailor's face and the sound of shattered glass soon followed, Ricky closed his eyes then as he felt the weight of the heavy man finally lighten enough for him to be shoved off. From there things were in a haze, and before he knew it Ricky somehow wound up being from on the floor to out the front door in what felt like only a few ticks worth of reality's precious time.

Mizas or Prison?
Autumn 2nd 514 AV, 21st Bell
Location: Zeltiva's Streets

"Petchin' bastards!" Ricky called out as he stumbled only further toward the space in front of him, by the time he turned around he'd already witnessed the creaky old door slam shut as the shouting and rebellious laughter continued then. Somebody wasn't happy that they were losing bets apparently, either way Ricky had been kicked out tonight and the only thing left to do was merely walk home and call it a night. He disliked the fact he still felt stupidly drunk given the brawl was suppose to help clear that up some, since that was out of the question now the only thing left to do would be to walk it off of course. With a little bit of bitterness only present in his posture he walked off in the direction to West Street, and he didn't bother to look back either.

The distance he thought to cover though wasn't as much as he thought he would, even if he felt a little miffed with the way the fight ended. But of course that was to be expected seeing as how he was still drunk, three or four mugs of Kelp Beer could do that to a man without a doubt. So the best thing to do was ignore the unsettled nausea in his stomach and push himself forward, let his slightly slow walk let the alcohol wear off as he took in the fresh air of the city. He took a deep breath in at the thought of this, already he began to feel a little bit of his mind somber up some. He guessed it wouldn't be long now until he would have his senses back in full action, thought that would mean the pain which as dulled now would only hurt twice as bad later. Petch...

Though these little matters were the only significance he had to pay mind to now, he wasn't exactly worried nor aware that he was being shadowed. The subtle approach of a woman from behind went unnoticed as he continued to focus on moving forward, which left his rear unchecked to grant her the chance of having the element of surprise. Though there was a catch to this, a minor trick she would have to be clever with as it played in part to his walk. His sway shifted to one side or the other just a little, subtle changes in his upper posture made possible attempts to go 'fishing' a little easier, and then of course a little more difficult when his balance demanded to be changed just a little.
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Mizas or Prison? [Ricky Maze]

Postby Black Onyx on September 21st, 2014, 10:24 am

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Black shadowed every single one of the drunk man’s footsteps, her form sticking close to the shadows of the buildings that they passed, so then the moon would not create a shadow for herself. She didn’t exactly want the male to know that she was following him just yet, for she wanted to be able to grab the man’s purse and get out of the area before he even knew that his purse was stolen. Drunks, they made for fairly easy pickings, mostly because their sense were dull and were not very likely to react in time to catch her. She pressed her left arm to her stomach, pain lancing up her arm and the lack of sleep didn’t help either. Gritting her teeth against the constant pain that riddled her arm, she pressed even closer to the wall, attempting to keep her footsteps light. However, that endeavour wasn’t as easy as it seemed when one's own mind kept focusing upon the pain. That constant throbbing and stabbing pain in her arm, so occasionally, a foot would ’thump’ down upon the cobblestone as she followed him. The only good part about this, was that her target was drunk, although how drunk was the question.

She drew in a long, deep breath feeling it expand her lungs as she tried to push the pain out of mind. She wanted to focus upon this task, she needed to focus upon this task. Shaking her head, her right hand, quickly lifted to pull the hood of her cloak, up and over her head, almost forgetting to pull it up and over her head. She did not want anyone recognizing her and she most definitely did not want this guy to recognize her as she ran off. It would only bring the wave guards down upon her and prison was something that she wanted to avoid. Her brown hues watched the male’s movements, watched as he swayed from one side to the other. The young equine gritted her teeth as she tried to figure a way as to how she could possibly attempt such a feat. Normally, she would have dashed forward, pretend to trip and stumble into the man. One hand would lash out to grasp the man’s shoulder, while the other snagged the purse. Once the purse would be secure in her grasp she would shove the man and be off running. However, she was one hand short mostly and a sigh fell upon her lips. She could still pull it off, but at great pain to herself, every time she that she moved her arm, pain would stab and throb its way up her arm. It almost made her fall to her knees at times, especially when she was careless. Although… She could still pull off the move, just that she couldn’t grab the man’s shoulder. She would just have to run into him, grabbed the purse and run like a bat out of hell. Or in this case, a horse running for its freedom.

Her right hand was gently placed over her left arm with no applied pressure as she drew in a deep breath to not only calm her nerves, but to push the pain to the back of her mind. She couldn’t wait for too long, otherwise he may reach his destination and short of breaking into the house or room, she would lose her target. She pressed forwards towards the man, her right hand dropping to her side as she too dropped her gaze to view the cobblestones. The woman pressed forwards into a run so then her footsteps would pound into the street as she jogged directly for her target. Suddenly, her right shoulder would then smack into the male’s own shoulder, this hopefully sending the male stumbling as she came to a holt. She almost cried out with that movement as it jarred her left arm and she was tempted to grasp for it, but she had to reach out and snag the purse. Her footsteps brought her to the man that was no doubt starting to recover from the bump and she clapped a hand to his shoulder. ”Sorry there mate.” She said while her right hand dropped to snag the drawstring of the purse to pull it from his pocket. Once this was secured inside of her hand, she turned to run, hoping that he was still recovering and a little dazed, too dazed to have noticed her snagging his purse. Hopefully.
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Mizas or Prison? [Ricky Maze]

Postby Ricky Maze on September 26th, 2014, 4:27 am

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It was times like this that when Ricky found himself alone that he somehow enjoyed to think, even when he was drunk somehow his mind would contemplate on certain things that just crossed through his brain without end. It was one of the ways that he gained perspective on things, learned to hold different outlooks really since there were so many ways to look at and understand something. His mind wandered at first to the city itself, and how quiet it appeared to be. Deep down though he wondered what truly lied at the heart of the city, just how twisted or corrupt was their political system at its core. Politics was something he never engaged it but from his simplistic understanding, he knew it was how Zeltiva functioned as a city. One of the ways at least.

Without some political power to dictate how things run, order was never easily found within such a place. Given that the city had its trials and tribulations, they still stood as proud as ever. The Sailor's Guild, The University, event the Lord of Council have no doubt had their share of disputes behind public eye. Not to mention the Denvali's presence as well. With them here there was no doubt unrest still present behind the scenes, tension that remained buried at the heart of their fair city. Strange. Oi never really t'ought 'bout it before. He looked up at the clear sky while Leth shone brightly in the star filled void, his mind already spent on the next relevant subject. The obelisks. They were strange without a doubt, ancient artifacts that opened the gateway to the Ancient Quarter, or so Ricky figured.

He wondered just what their purpose was, and if they were related to Gaius. The wizard that managed to escape in spring, the one who disappeared without a trace to follow. Did he manage to enter the Ancient Quarter? Was there something down there that the University discovered? There were so many questions that loomed, and the more he thought on them, the more he began to make up possibilities as to why they were there. Maybe t'ey 're a gate way t' somet'in... or some sort o' ancient relic o' de prehistoric world. That's right, the Valterrian. He imagined that they were linked to whatever civilization lived in Zeltiva before its event, that they were either weapons or tools of power that secretly resided in long forgotten places of Zeltiva. How much of the city was lost when that calamity occurred? How much had the University discovered and kept secret, while the city remained oblivious to the forces that worked around it?

That left him to question another thing, and that was the duties he served in Zeltiva. How far does de corruption go in de city? 're some o' de guards workin' t' help one o' de political powers? T'ey couldn't t'ough... De Guard 's under de jurisdiction o' de Sailor's Guild. He then wondered if he wasn't just serving to protect, but being led to believe that he was. The people of Zeltiva needed guardian's to defend her after all, and the Wave Guard was just that. Then he began to wonder... wonder if he was even making a difference. There were several reasons as to why he joined the Guard, but he never once questioned whether or not it was something he wanted to do. Now that he started to think about it, he finally found the question of it something he needed to mull over. Only he couldn't. He was too engaged in thought to notice before but when he, or rather she, approached his thoughts retreated.

It was a sudden shock that honed his senses for just a moment as he was surprised, by a black haired woman that couldn't help but bump into him somehow. He about stumbled had he not moved his foot over to avoid it, "Whoa! S'okay lass Oi-" yet she was already off. Her feet quick to shuffle in a hasty manner as though she were embarrassed or... or... Wait a minute....

With Ricky prone to wonder what that was all about he noticed something, as he dipped his fingers in his pocket when he started to think. He noticed that something was missing, and that his coin pouch had been picked out of his pocket. Da petch?! His eyes shot over to the girl, already on the assumption that she'd gone fishing for some coin. He had it in there when he was out the door, he knew that much, and now it was gone after she stumbled into him. Coincidence? Ricky believed not. "Scuse me lass." He called out respectively as he didn't wish to jump to conclusions, but when she only seemed to continue her leave he then felt more inclined to follow her. "Scuse me lass!" Slight aggression built in his voice, if there was one thing that could anger him most, it was when people neglected to listen with reason. She seemed to neglect any chance at all, and that only taunted Ricky to stop her further.

He was after all involved with the law, and therefore he wasn't going to just allow somebody to rob him stupid, his only hope though was that he wouldn't make a fool out of himself during the process.
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Mizas or Prison? [Ricky Maze]

Postby Black Onyx on October 1st, 2014, 2:29 am

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Petching Shyke! She silently cursed to herself as she heard the male’s words call out to her. She knew his words were for her because she was the only one around. She wouldn’t exactly attempt to pick someone’s pocket unless there was a really big crowd where people wouldn’t be paying too much attention to other people and their pouches. "Scuse me lass!" She heard him call again aggression clear within his voice. She pulled her left arm close to her chest holding it close with her right as she started off at a jog, her footsteps thumping down upon the cobblestones as her jagged breath came in quickly and was force out just as quickly. Indeed, her breathing was jagged from the pain that her left arm was causing as her right hand applied pressure to it in order to hold still. She had to turn a corner or something, disappear into a crowd and the only closest crowd was East Street and fast. Her lack of sleep paired with the pain that seemed to be stabbing her arm wasn’t doing her the world of good. In fact, she wanted nothing more than to just simply pass out, but she held on and pushed herself forwards as she made for East Street.

As she made it onto East Street, her footsteps considerably slowed as she weaved through the crowd, her step catching on some rise in the cobblestone and making her stumble into some unlucky person who was more than happy to shove her back. Each time that she was shoved, pain flared in her left arm and she had to try and hold back whimpers of pain that threatened to rise to her lips. Things were beginning to blur, people, the streets even and it was a wonder that she even made it to a small alley that led off of East Street, an alley that she had become well acquainted with when she had first gotten her burn. Stumbling down it, her right shoulder smacked into a wall and she turned her back to it as she slowly slid down it so then she was sitting upon the street, her head leaning back to press against the hard wall. She fought to stay conscious as she drew in deep breaths, her lungs working to attempt to distract her from the pain of her arm, while her lack of sleep threatened to pull her under its embrace. Her head rolled to the side as her brown eyes watched the opening of the alley in hopes that her target had not followed her this far. The very name of East Street was enough to deter people, she just hoped that it was enough to deter the man.

A soft groan fell upon her lips then as her right arm gripped her left arm much closer, while she gave in to the need to express the very pain she was in. She turned her gaze from the opening of the dark alley to look skywards as she wondered what god hated her so much at this very point to curse her with bad luck? Silently, she then closed her eyes as she listened for any sign that might indicate that someone was following her down the alley and she didn’t hear anything just yet, but closing her eyes wasn’t exactly the best thing at the moment for it threatened to sweep her off into a dark abyss. It seemed like the pain was making everything spin around her and she was instantly feeling sick to the stomach. Some god had to really hate her and chances are it was a god that liked Jadlin but not herself, she thought to herself as she drew in a deep breath a pang striking up within her heart. How was Jadlin? He hadn’t even come to see her and although she was silently thankful for that, it also worried her. Was he ok?
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Mizas or Prison? [Ricky Maze]

Postby Ricky Maze on October 3rd, 2014, 6:38 am

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Damn! His mind shot curses to both her and his own self for being so stupid, but given the circumstances he did after all allow himself to be an easy target for her gain. Now here he was having to chase her down, granted she not only got a head start, but also a good amount of distance covered as he tried to tail her down into the East Street area. He hesitated then. His luck down this way never seemed to be so good, given that before he managed to lose a pinky the last time he wound up being drunk... all because of a couple bastards thought to extort a couple spare Nilo out of him. Won't git much luck outta me dis time. He mused as he started to slow down and finally stop hunched over, pants followed as his mind felt as though it were swimming again.

Blast! Petchin bitch... His stomach felt a lurch that sent pain into his abdomen and chest, as he felt the need to place a hand against the wall for physical and moral support. Shyke... It was inevitable. The lurch met with a roll from his stomach that caused a harsh heave to follow, a heave that led the drunken bastard to gag a couple of times while nothing came up. Finally he gave up after a couple of coughs and still nothing to spew, until at last his stomach gave one final push to heave out the contents that resided within. Kelp Beer had a foul smell and taste that burned but by the Gods it was worse when the putrid sludge came back up, Ricky literally felt his entire chest burn as his throat endured the same fate. Vomit gushed straight out the mouth and onto the pavement next to the sewer grating, which thankfully allowed the foul contents to travel where it belonged as he felt small burps follow. With the gas in his stomach now cleared up and his mind more aware, he could finally think a little more clear about his surroundings... although that also meant he lost the damned girl.

Shyke. She couldn't 'ave gone t' far. He thought in disgust as he wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist, after he felt comfortable enough to move once more he started to walk down the street as though the event that just transpired never happened. Not many people out t'night, so she couldn't really blend in so well. He reckoned as he watched the main street mostly, though he reconsidered as a few prostitutes beckoned him for "company" as he passed on by. East Street was always filled with the dirtier type than the rest of Zeltiva, given the nature of it was fueled by harlots and brigands alike while they lived to survive here. Luckily his attention had shifted to the alleyways when he passed by these women, his turn downs being as respectful as possible led him to discover that... a woman sat in the midst of the alley. He would've looked her over and moved on, had he not almost missed the fact she wore a dark cloak.

Found 'er. He thought in between deep breaths as he tried to keep his cool, he was by all means in no hurry to catch her now. By the looks of it she had to be winded or something, out of energy after putting in so much effort to run away.
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Mizas or Prison? [Ricky Maze]

Postby Black Onyx on October 6th, 2014, 6:16 am

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Thoughts of Jadlin flooded her mind, like it always did. It was a constant cycle, sometimes even the same questions would keep popping up into her mind with no answers in sight. She wouldn’t know until he wished to be found or known, but in the mean-time, she had to heal. Make sure that her injury would heal enough so then she could hide it from him, she didn’t want him to know if she could help it, although she wouldn’t lie to him when confronted. A sigh settled upon her lips as she managed to get the pain under control and she closed her eyes again, glad that she didn’t feel as if she was going to fall unconscious. For now at least. Silently she pulled out of her pocket the purse that she had stolen seeing as no one was following her. She could have lost the drunken man; at least, she hoped that she had lost him. Nothing like a target following you all around the city, for it made work that much more harder. She could only hope that he hadn’t seen her face. She drew in a long slow breath for a moment, allowing the breath to still her form, her brown gaze drifted to view the purse in her hand and she slowly exhaled.

Drunken men rarely had much on them once they left the kelp bar and half the time drunken men didn’t realize that they had been robbed until they got to their destination and she was long gone. Tonight was just a taste of what things would be like, difficult. It was going to be a lot more difficult than it usually would be and she would have to do a lot more in the ways of stealing purses in order to keep up. She shook her head, the hood of her cloak falling off of her head as she lifted her left arm to help her open the purse clutched in her right, the stabbing pain returned. She hated the fact that until the wound upon her arm was healed, she was going to be in complete agony until then and she needed her left arm for many reasons. Once she had opened the purse, she looked inside and jiggled it for a few ticks, just to see exactly how much was in there. She pressed her lips tightly together as she spotted only ten Nilo inside. It was Zeltivian currency, this she knew, although, Black normally carried simple mizas, mostly because it could be used everywhere. Oh well, she thought to herself, she couldn’t complain about the small amount in there and she closed the purse, tucking it back into the folds of her cloak.

A soft groan worked its way onto her lips as she then heard footsteps, footsteps that entered the alley and she rolled her head to the side so then she could see the male enter the alleyway. So much for having lost him, she thought to herself as she slid her legs underneath her form into a crouch and then, using the wall as a support, she moved into a standing position. Her right shoulder remained pressed against the wall as her right hand gripped her left arm close to her form and her gaze flickered over the man’s form. She had silently hoped that pressing close to the wall would hide her, but apparently not and here he was. Perhaps she could lie her way out of this, seeing as getting into a brawl or come type of combat, wouldn’t go down well with her. In fact, she was sure that if she did get into a physical fight with this man and he landed a punch because she wasn’t quick enough, then she would surely pass out. ”I lost it, some other thief, better than me, picked my pockets as I was running. I no longer have it.” She called out to him in hopes that she had kept her tone plain instead of reflecting the pain and lack of sleep that she was feeling.
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Mizas or Prison? [Ricky Maze]

Postby Ricky Maze on October 10th, 2014, 8:15 am

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His approach to her had been practically calm and collected given the circumstances, he could reason with this woman after all given the fact she could very well be poor. While he wasn't against helping her out or finding some compromise to make things easier for her, while at the same time stop her from further thieving later on down the line, he definitely didn't feel all to happy that she just happen to decide to pick him as her target for the night. Unfortunate for her though she did, because she'd be receiving quite a lecture once he got to her. But in his approach she had the audacity to try and lie to him, in some desperate ploy that she may very well throw send him off after another person no doubt. This stopped him in his tracks for a moment, the train of thought in his head dissipated then. On the outside it'd be difficult to see but his face would turn red, flushed with a wicked sense of anger that was just beyond his control.

She had lied. Just now. That's all that Ricky knew, his reasoning for it didn't come clear, but then again it didn't matter at this point. All he knew was that she had lied to his face, and deep down on the inside that was the worse possible thing one could do to Ricky. Especially when he was drunk and easily able to lose a temper when chasing criminals, who take things that don't belong to them and hide down alleyways afterwards. His steps toward her were heavy then as he nearly saw nothing but black, his mind in another haze that not even Kelp Beer could put him in. It was a haze that he always hated to fall into, because he knew good and well somebody could get hurt if he allowed himself to lose control. Almost automatically he knew that he was going for her, that he was going to reach for her and demand a couple of things, but whether they were reasonable or made sense was the unsure part. As what he would probably do next, at this point his loss of self control had nearly been out the window, and this woman would hopefully be a tad bit more careful with what she chooses to say to him next.

The fisherman reached her and with no attempt to hold back the aggression he grasped the wrist of her right arm, and with a harsh tug he pulled her closer to him with a stern expression shot at her as he looked down. "Horse shyke ye petchin' bitch! It'd be one t'ing t' steal fr'm me an' git away wit' it, but t' go tellin' me a white petchin' lie like dat?! Yew better 'ave somet'ing good t' say fer yer self, because Oi ain't one t' be foolin' 'round wit' ye heard?!" She no doubt would try to reason with him saying that her "excuse" was true, so before she could he beat her to the punch with the logic he could put behind it. "Fer one, who de PETCH happens t' be so damn good at fishin' pockets while a person is runnin'?! Its by far damn near impossible t' pull such a stupid ass stunt when yew yer self 're tryin' to avoid capture. Now before yew get anymore funny ideas 'bout tellin' more o' dis damn t'ief, ye better start fresh fr'm de start an' change me mind because so help me Priskil's gonna need t' find some hope fer ya."

As much as he hated to drag her into it Ricky couldn't help the fact the Goddess had been revered in this case, considering that this little woman looked to be falling into a hopeless situation. She could very well dig herself a deeper grave and he wouldn't care at this point, but all the same he still had hopes that this could go a far better route than the one he'd already fallen on. "Because so help me yew ain't in de best place t' be as o' now." He warned her with a sharp glare to follow, the promise behind the threat clear as his breathing proved to be quick and heavy. He definitely held a very aggressive demeanor about him which was unusual, yet all the same he'd already fallen into this patter he so desperately tried to avoid. To him it was to the void with regretting this now, he could dwell on that later when he was more calm and able to think clearly again.
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Ricky Maze
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Mizas or Prison? [Ricky Maze]

Postby Black Onyx on October 12th, 2014, 10:26 am

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The moment that the man began to make his way down the alley, Black took an involuntary step back, fear creeping down her spine. She didn’t have a good history with this alleyway and facing people down, her left fore-arm agreed as it throbbed with pain. Her nostrils flared as he reached her, his hand reaching out to grasp her right wrist to pull her closer to him. She ignored the simple fact that she was having small flashbacks of the time where she herself was cornered in this alley and she drew in a slow breath, holding back a pained gasp that wanted to rise to her lips. She gritted her teeth together as she glared at the man that she had thought was wasted, but apparently wasn’t. His words seemed to smack into her and she tried to unsuccessfully pull her hand out of his, wincing at these sudden movements for her left arm sent stabbing pains up her arm. Her breathing picked up pace as her brown eyes darted around the alley, her heart also picking up in pace. The fight or flight response kicked in and she couldn’t exactly run because he held her wrist, so that left fight. The young equine was sure that she couldn’t physically tangle with him, but perhaps she might stand a fighting chance with words.

He mentioned Priskil and she attempted to pull herself together, lifting her chin before she plastered on a smirk to her curving lips. She even managed a small chuckled, ”Priskil? You put too much faith into gods and goddesses that do not give a damn about anyone except for themselves. Priskil abandoned me a long time ago.” She spat, her brown hues glaring at the male before her, who did he think he was? Most that became thieves knew that they were not in it because the Lady of Hope had any hand in it, they became thieves because they were under-skilled and had no other way to survive. Even if one did beg for scraps, they would hardly last very long after a few seasons, so they fell intro thieving to survive. How they came to that was varied and Black had heard a few stories about how a few of her fellow thieves had fallen into the business but she had never shared her own. The only one that knew her story was her father NiNi and she had partially told her story to Jadlin, but not the whole one. She had never felt the need to burden him with her own burdens.

"Because so help me yew ain't in de best place t' be as o' now." A snort of derisive parted her lips as she tried to shake off the fear that she truly felt. His words never rang so true to her and she knew that she was literally balancing on the edge of a blade even as they spoke. The man’s quick and heavy breathing was a dead give-away of an angered man, an angered man that was best left unprovoked, but she really couldn’t help herself. She knew that Jadlin would probably miss her a little if she ever died or ended up in prison, but she also knew that she would only be a blip upon his life’s radar before he found someone that was more appropriate. ”Those words only work on someone that has something to lose,” she smirked at him before she attempted to wrench her wrist out of his grip, which only pained her further. A small gasp parted her lips as her left arm sent more stabbing pains up her arm and she was lucky that she had only gasped instead of whimpered. ”You’re speaking to someone who has nothing to her name and with nothing to lose, they don’t call me Black for no reason.” She lifted her chin a little higher as her nostrils flared in her attempt to hide her pain, her brown hues glared at the male who had a hold of her.
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Mizas or Prison? [Ricky Maze]

Postby Ricky Maze on October 14th, 2014, 6:10 am

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What did she say?! His eyebrows rose at the sound of her slandering beliefs with the gods, but only for a moment as they descended back into that sharp spiteful gaze as he started to feel his jaw grind then. Somehow his world felt a little hazy once again but this time there was no dizziness to feel, no drunken effects but instead a minor boiling rage. Somehow the vision at the corners of his eyes seemed to slowly blur a little, as he felt his mind and heart begin to race only further as she continued to show further jeering on her part as she seemed ridiculed by his own reasoning. To go outright and believe that he hadn't anything to take from her, that was true to an extent and all the more reason to prove her wrong. Were he not so close to teetering over the edge, the temptation would likely not have been as strong to give in. For some reason though... it was.

"Dat's some o' de biggest load o' horse shyke Oi've ever heard..." He dreaded the idea that followed his mind but nothing could stop him now, almost by impulse did it react from the inner reaches of his core, and when it did he felt so very much damn good for letting it happen. Ricky used the iron grip he still had on the girls wrist and with an intensely mischievous look to his expression he pinned her back against the wall once more with her hand elevated above her while he kept her form against it. He felt the sensations from within course throughout his entire body as his eyes grew dark, and for the next few chimes in which he acted he completely lost sight of what was to transpired next. "Black ye say, only because ye got not'in t' yer name an' not'in t' lose. So what does dat mean when yer very life is t'reatened." He boldly pointed out as though it were a dare, but that dare would soon be met with stipulation he couldn't refuse any longer.

That pleasurable sense of power he had was mixed with domination now, and in form the product of the result surfaced out of his skin from the pores in a gaseous form that held a transparent royal blue hue to it. This gas slowly started to envelop his body for a moment, and while he looked down at Black with a feverish grin he watched her, curious to see if she might have any objections as to what was about to occur next. This was after all his Res and it'd started to pour out in an amount far larger than he dared to ever try, but then that was back when he was sane and avoided going near such limits he felt. This time however there was no signal, no red flags he could detect to put him at a stop before going to far. All he felt in this moment was an insane amount of pleasure that he wasn't familiar with at all, and he aimed to intimidate this woman by making her feel like she would breathe her last breath. Whether the air she breathed would become water or not was undecided, but given that the very space between them started to feel colder and malicious he definitely didn't dare to act on impulse. At least not yet.
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Credit goes to Fallon for allowing me to temper with her codings! :)
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Ricky Maze
"Bottom's up!"
 
Posts: 2397
Words: 2035002
Joined roleplay: March 30th, 2011, 9:02 pm
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