And they're off!Some minor bunnies. If anyone has any problems, feel free to PM me and I'll be happy to edit as required.
Aurelianus smirked to himself, dancing back a few steps and watching the opening act of the bloodbath. A shiver ran up his spine and he growled deep in his throat, the sound thick and wet as he tasted the magic caressing his skin.
But from where. Or who? he wondered.
He rattled through a quick mental list of the other competitors, making sure to mark their movements, trying to make sure and watch all of them at once. A lifetime of paranoia, in this instance, proved extremely useful. Earrings and charms rattled all over his bladed frame as he swung his head between the other occupants of the chamber, leathers creaking as every muscle tensed and relaxed. He wanted to start gutting them, but he couldn't decide for the life of him where to begin. They were all such juicy little morsels, just waiting for his blades to put them in the dead-book.
Deaders, deaders everywhere, and not a sod to nick, he thought, a grim chuckle on his lips.
Aurelianus recognised the chit from Emma chamber who had spectacularly made herself explode - hard to forget someone like that - as she took a sneaky swing in at Flint's back, even as he moved to block the attack and Resolve dived into the cluster-fuck. It was only then he noticed the competitor, little more than a boy, by all appearances, standing off to one side with his crossbow trained on the tiefling. Though actually making out his appearance was exceptionally difficult, with the way the shadows clung to his frame like.. like a cloak.. Talen's scent touched his nostrils, and Aurelianus licked his fangs with a vicious smirk. Here was another cutter he recognised.
"Tails," he hissed, wondering if this was yet another sod likely to turn on him. Already, the list of people in this room who likely despised him was rising with every passing moment.
Behind the mystic, he marked the tell-tale gleam of faint sunlight on armour and only his demonic eyes allowed him to make out the swordsman at the rear of Kyla and the creature he knew as Tails. A small smirk played out on the plane-touched's face as he recognised what he was watching; no-one could see a betrayal in the making like the half-breed con-artist, and he was glad to see that, for the moment, the shadow-creature and his apparent ally would be preoccupied.
The tiefling found his eyes drawn back to Flint above the others; he had marked the expression on the basher's face when Resolve had let slip Luned was in attendance. For a man feared, or downright just dismissed as an urban legend by the nobles of Salvar, Flint Skovik had looked worried.
Like the predator he was, heart and soul, Aurelius had locked on to that. Now, not only did he have something to use against the grotesquely over-muscled little brute, but he had a plan. A cruel smile split his features, all yellow eyes and white fangs in the darkness of the dungeon. He slid one of his twin knives from the sheath at the small of his back, and wrapped his fingers lovingly around the demon-hide grip. Every vicious serration along the green-steel blade caught what little light the holes in the ceiling allowed, glinting much like his own smile.
Flint blocked the mystic chit's blow and dodged back, making way for his dusky firecracker ally's attack. That was all the opening Aurelius needed.
Darting forward in a blur of black leather and sadistic steel, the tiefling sprang into the air - just as Astarelle sprinted past on her way to aid Talen - and caught the bars of the cell before him. Keeping his Baatorian knife held loosely in his right hand, the half-demon scurried up the wall of bars and landed lightly on the roof of the cage. Right above Flint.
"A quick word, mate," Aurelianus hissed from above, grinning down as the human turned to face him. There was a hint of hate on that chiselled, hard face, but for the most part the Salvaran kept a rein on his temper.
"I've got two in mind right now," Flint shot back with a deadpan voice.
"Cute," the tiefling smirked, leaping gracefully down to land in front of his.. companion? Enemy? If he had tried to actually label the relationship he had with the man before him, Aurelius might have realised he actually had no clue how he would class it. But, he had other things on his mind.
Keeping his weight kept on the balls of his feet, even inside the heavy, buckled boots he wore, Aurelius gave his opponent the once over, noting the new gauntlets. And the speed at which Skovik had turned to defend himself against the sword-bitch's blow had not escaped his notice either. Still, with an air of arrogant calm, the tiefling stopped a few steps outside the brawler's reach, his knife held casually low at his side. The glyphs etched along the blade pulsed in the gloom, from deep black to arterial red and back again, the bleeding enchantment on the already savage weapons making itself known.
"There's no doubt in my mind that right now you'd love nothin' more than to break me in 'alf," Aurelius stated merrily, cocking his head and setting the many earrings jingling. "Am I right?"
Flint nodded, allowing himself a tight smile.
"An' I 'ave no doubt you could at that," the cocky Cager allowed. He saw the tension humming along every tendon and muscle on the muscle-bound man's arms. Forestalling him with a raised hand, the snake-eyed deviant stepped back. Back in Ettermire, Flint had seen firsthand the hideous magicks Aurelius could call forth from those hands, so the gesture may not have been quite as reassuring as he might have hoped.
"Wait! I 'ave a proposition you might be interested in," he said. He could see the doubt in Flint's eyes, almost as bright as the small spot of light shining on his bald pate. Aurelius was also keenly aware of the limited time he had to work in as well, casting a quick and peery glance at the other occupants, mostly occupied squaring off against their chosen opponents. For the moment.
"You turn those wreckin' balls," he gestured to the human's metal-clad fists, "on every other sod in 'ere 'cept me - and that includes 'er," he added with a nod at Resolve's back coupled with a sly grin.
"More than that, you watch my back 'til we're the only two cutters left standin', and I'll wipe the debt clear.."
Flint started to move, to bring his fists up; no doubt to make good on his offer of breaking the smug bastard of a half-breed like a toothpick. He knew better than most not to listen to the honeyed words of the murderous hellspawn.
".. for Luned."
The Salvaran stopped cold, registering the words that were penetrating his ice-cold killer psyche. Aurelianus flipped his knife to his left hand with a little flourish, running his fingertips across the hydras inked on either side of his bloody-red crest of quills.
"Do we 'ave a deal?" the warlock asked, the loathsome joy in his voice telling Flint he already knew what the answer was going to be.