[1v1] Free Meal (Shik + Alistaire)

[medigel]

A new home, new tasks to complete, new things to consider in his very new life, and what did Shik decide to do? Fall back on his old habits, of course. Then again, it was very hard to break away from occasional visits to the Haunted House: he had found his favorite prey there, after all. White coats just seemed to infest the place, which he found downright hilarious as nobody could really claim the area for themselves. The whispers of Insanity and the creeping fog no longer bothered him like it used to: this was as much a haunt of his as the human world would soon become.

The horseman sat crouched high in the trees, his wings draped about him like a cloak. Shik still wondered if he'd ever get a stroke of luck and bring back a full dead corpse for Shaheen and himself to feast on, and he licked his dry lips at the thought. If not a whole body, at least just a morsel . . . But he wasn't impatient today. The white coats came if you waited long enough.

And right now, he had all the patience in the world, for he was a horseman who knew his birthright, who knew exactly just how much these humans needed to be put to heel, and who knew that as time passed he would have all the power he needed to make sure it happened.

kuroopu

idk intros at 2am ahahahhahahahsob

 

[kuropeco]

He was back in the Haunted House, not because he had an innate desire to cause trouble, or because he had a death wish; but because he was insatiably curious about the creatures they fought against as hunters. Alistaire had already run into several of them, each with mixed reactions that had provided useful information to him; but out of everything, the one thing Alistaire had had yet to encounter was a Horseman.

He'd heard about them, of course; there really wasn't anyone around him that hadn't heard of the creatures, but seeing as how Alistaire had yet to face one, he had yet to properly gauge them to figure them out, to take them apart and decipher them. Whether he was actually strong enough to take on a Horseman was also not a part of his thoughts, mostly because Alistaire simply wanted to observe.

Deep in the Haunted House he made his way through the hallways, Alistaire's weapon already summoned. The chains were looped casually around his neck, and he held each dagger in his gloved hands, making his way from one room to the next as though he was expecting to see something in one of them.

Maybe he was. But so far he hadn't, and so he kept walking.

ol-j-man

 

[medigel]

Movement. The fools always traipsed right into the house without bothering to make a perimeter check. Shik scoffed to himself and with a few beats of his wings entered the house soon after. He was not a fan of its puzzling interiors: while not the most forward-thinking strategist, even he knew that taking advantage of the terrain was one of the basic rules of combat--and he couldn't do that when the infernal building kept switching its layout.

But he did what he must and adapted.

Shik wandered for a while, lost to doors within doors and dead-ends that changed their minds. But when ahead he glimpsed the hunter at last in a one-door room, a nasty grin curled his lips. He was no sage or scavenger, he did not sneak when he found his target. The horseman entered the room with a beastly bellow as befitted War, the sound a call for blood and the hunt that echoed through the misty halls.

He wondered if the white coat would be smart enough to understand what fear was.

"You are a fool for coming alone," he said, the sound of his cry still faintly echoing. Shik clicked his tongue. "Your kind never learn."

kuroopu

 

[kuropeco]

He heard footsteps.

// Someone is coming. // Grimshaw growled, immediately on the defensive, and Alistaire tightened his grip on his blades, gloved fingers curling around the black hilts. He took a few cautious steps forward, his expression sharp, his gaze roaming around the darkened, shadowy room that he was currently standing in. It was a rather large room, with cracked, splintered floorboards, some of which were torn up so that you could see the black spaces beneath them. A beaten up, broken baby grand piano made of some sort of shiny dark wood stood inexplicably in one corner, its ivory keys blackened, half of them missing. There was something stained on the corner, though Alistaire didn't move close enough to see exactly what it was. He'd never been particularly musical, so it didn't really interest him all that much as it was. A few bookcases - once that were floor to ceiling in their size, made of what appeared to have once been mahogany, perhaps - lined the far wall, only half filled, the spines of the books so faded and torn that it was impossible to read the titles anymore. Some were gold, some were brown, and somewhere entirely black, the pages yellowed and ancient. Against one wall was a sofa, stuffing exploding outwards and spilling onto the floor, and it might have been green once, or it might have been blue, he couldn't be certain anymore. Now it was a mottled yellowy orange with faint brown tinges that were reminiscent of dried blood.

Alistaire's lip curled in disgust, but he didn't get to contemplate the contents of the room much further.

There was a deafening roar behind him, a bellowing, feral sounding roar that caused the hair on his arms to stand up. He wasn't afraid, not yet at least, but Alistaire still felt a surge of adrenaline course through him, mingled with a certain sense of anxiety. He stood for a moment, his back to the door, and felt, rather than heard, the heavy footsteps as they came into the room, rattling the broken floorboards.

A voice - low and snarling, clearly dismissive, clearly disdainful. At last Alistaire turned around, slowly, pivoting on one shiny shoe-clad foot until he was facing the creature in all of its so-called glory, his daggers still held tightly in his grasp. He supposed he should have been frightened; he should have been terrified that he was alone in this place with such a creature, because the creature that stood before him was nothing like any of the ones that Alistaire Rahal-Nazari had ever seen before in his life - but he was not, and maybe that was his fault.

Maybe that would be his downfall, this lack of fear.

It was a Horseman, or at least, that was what immediately came to Alistaire's mind. Taller than him, with wild dark hair and dark skin, his arms and legs were broad and enormous, thick with ropy muscles banding his bare stomach. What seemed to be war paint stretched over his face and nose in the shape of a white hand print, and there more markings on his torso and arms. He was dressed, not in the elegance that Alistaire would have expected, but like a savage, a warrior.

That was not expected. He filed away the information quickly, because there would be little time to make any decisions today, he knew that much at least. Alistaire's pulse quickened beneath his skin, and a slow smile crept onto his face.

"On the contrary," said Alistaire smoothly. Grimshaw made a cackling noise inside of his head, then dropped to a low growl, clearly ready for a fight if it came to that. "We learn best when we are put into certain situations, do we not?"

ol-j-man

 

[medigel]

He made a disbelieving noise in his throat, smirking as his eyes quickly took in the room in full. The lighting was awful, but it always was inside the house and he was used to it by now. The floor was uneven but did not seem particularly annoying to note, though the large broken instrument was; it, along with the bookcase of forgotten tomes (why would the house conjure something nobody wanted?) and the torn open couch, would impeded any attempts for him to fly in spite of the otherwise large space. Very well.

The target himself didn't seem very remarkable: the same arrogance, the same airs of supposed superiority. Shik took notice of the human's coat, having begun to pick together a pattern on them: this one appeared to have a sun, whatever that meant, and his smirk grew. They always were so spirited in that clan--or whatever it was the hunters divided themselves by. He wondered if this one would be as fun to toy with as Kat and the little moon girl. Or perhaps he would scream and burn like the small one with scythes.

Weapon: chained, daggers, mid to close range. Excellent. Everyone he had fought from that damn place had long range or otherwise large weapons. This would be more suitable to his combat style.

In the span of mere seconds he had taken in what he needed and moved. Lunging with a beat of his wings, Shik watched the hunter's movements carefully and, with a small warped field of color around his dagger, jabbed from one direction to test the white coat's reaction time.

hp: 50
damage: really shik +2 from distortion crystal = 2
distortion points: 9/10 I guess idek anymore

kuroopu

 

[kuropeco]

This was not a good situation.

Alistaire knew this, somewhere in the back of his mind; but it was overlooked due to his swell of amusement, of curiosity and interest in the creature that stood before him. It was a sort of morbid fascination, really, since he both hated them and was intrigued by them.

The horseman apparently wasn't the talkative kind. His wings, huge and heavy, beat quickly and then he was surging forward, Alistaire only just barely twisting out of the way to avoid most of the dagger's impact. It still managed to glance off of his side, however, and Alistaire let out a little hiss as he slowed his steps, trying to regain his footing. He brandished the daggers, smirking.

"That all you got?"


HP: 38
DMG: 0

ol-j-man

 

[medigel]

Normally Shik would have indulged battle banter, but he was still assessing his prey's abilities. For all of their equally soft bodies, some could be resourceful--no doubt there was a hierarchy of power there not unlike the horseman's. (If hunters could ever truly hold something like "power".)

So rather than answer with some witty or pithy retort, he held his tongue and didn't stop moving, his eyes narrowed with concentration. Once his dagger had finished its arc, Shik planted a foot on the ground, tucked his wings, and pivoted sharply to follow after the hunter. This time it was his free hand that swiped at him, lengthy nails itching to dig into shield and skin. His reach was shorter and forced him to get closer, but he wondered if close proximity was enough to keep his target off balance.

hp: 50
damage: 3
distortion points: 9/10 I guess idek anymore

xxkuroopu

 

[kuropeco]

The horseman wasn't speaking, or maybe he couldn't. Maybe it was one of the more savage ones, the less intelligent ones that spent their time attempting to win with cruelty and sheer brute strength, rather than learn and understand their opponents. It was there that lay most of the weaknesses of those who fought anyway, but this was a different situation, one that Alistaire couldn't afford to waste time on, because in spite of the feral nature of the Horseman, it was abundantly clear that he was not weak.

Alistaire reared back as the hand swiped towards him, the close proximity making him a little nauseated. He gritted his teeth together and spun the daggers, dragging one of them forward to aim at the Horseman's stomach.

"You beastly things will do anything, won't you?" Alistaire muttered.


HP: 35
DMG: 2

ol-j-man

ur europing but yes hi