Crush'em All.

[anarrowtotheeye]

who. Xiahou Dun (anarrowtotheeye) and whoever who's interested.
what. Dun pisses off a Bloodpack krogan and his mouth lands him into a fight.
where. A quiet area in the Zetta district.
when. February 15th.
warnings. It's a fight, so blood and swearing is a given.

Well he was asking for it, and the Blood Packs delivered. Xiahou Dun was salvaging in an isolated area far from the other residents in the hopes of finding better loot. Instead he gets jumped by a group of Blood Pack members. He should've been more careful but Dun has never been one for what he deems unnecessary precautions. His arrogant attitude has certainly gotten him in trouble now. He's not doing too bad on his own but some help would be appreciated whether it's to help him fight his way out or if it's to give him some first aid/bring him to a doctor because he'll definitely be having quite a few injuries after this. Or maybe you'd just like to watch and pass comment? That's fine by him too, it's not like he needs your help although he wouldn't mind it either!

Comments

[unyieldingly]

Once she's absolutely certain he can manage without any aid on her part, she leans back against the rubble to breathe. She's done stronger casts without stopping, long battles keeping her from taking the necessary break, but she still needs a moment. She clenches her hands briefly, the tingle of magic still dancing at her fingertips, and she prepares to slip away without any notice.

His sword comes flying and she jumps back at the sound, glancing back at him. He knows she's there. Careful, her hand back and poised to draw her staff, she steps out into he open.

"Is that any way to greet a fellow refugee?" she asks. Staying where she is, she sets her gauntlet-covered hand on her hip. "I'm not going to hurt you."

[anarrowtotheeye]

So this is the mysterious magician.

"A woman...?"

That's surprising. Usually it's the men who are engaged in the more obvious black arts. Women would stick with their straw dolls and curses hoping to curse the concubine/wife and earn more favour from their lord. Either way, he's never had a high opinion of sorcerers; they don't fight fair.

He sticks his podao into the ground and glares at her from a distance. It would be ungrateful of him to attack her but his own experiences with magic have been less than kind. He will not trust any magician, in this lifetime or the next.

"Woman, were those your spells?" he asks in return. "Answer truthfully."

[unyieldingly]

Oh, yes, that's a very good way to introduce yourself.

Hawke keeps her gaze level, her mouth pursed in an attempt to keep herself from snapping. "Yes, serah, a woman. And yes, they were my spells." At least he's familiar with magic and isn't calling her a demon. Better, still, that he doesn't seem like a Templar. She keeps her hands open and doesn't go for her staff, even if he appears aggravated enough.

"I saw you were in trouble and I wanted to help." And that, too, is the truth. "I'd spoken with the...krogan on the network. He didn't seem like someone who played fair to me." An advocate of violence, too. Not a good combination.

[anarrowtotheeye]

'Serah'. That's a term he hasn't heard used before by any of the locals. She seemed human enough, though he couldn't be certain that she was truly one of the other refugees marooned on this planet. It certainly helps that she kept her hands off her weapon but Dun is by nature distrusting of people, especially those who go around casting spells. That might have to do with the last time he spoke with a certain fire-wielding magician who started a country-wide rebellion that nearly toppled the dynasty.

He's still on guard, but he will listen to what she has to say. That's the least he owes her. The word "help" causes him to bristle slightly; he doesn't need the reminder, thank you very much.

"I didn't need your help. I was perfectly capable of taking down those dumb beasts by myself!"

His stance stated and his ego preserved, he ignores the blood that's seeping through his clothes and grabs his blade, keeping it in its sheath. That done he turns and starts to walk off, eager to get back home and deal with his wounds, but Dun is not exactly devoid of gratefulness. He gives the woman a sidelong glance and calls out to her, "But I am thankful for your assistance."

[unyieldingly]

Ah, so he's someone who doesn't like assistance. She should have gathered that. And despite her curiosity and wanting to know what power he has, she lifts her hands in a gesture of supplication and then drops them to her side, never making a move for her weapon. She doesn't need to. His attitude isn't exactly dangerous.

"Of course you were. But would you have only sustained the injuries you have?" Because from where she'd been standing, it might have ended a little worse for him.

As he starts to leave, Hawke gives him a brief nod, then looks concerned. "...Your wounds. I can heal them, if you'd like. Or you can visit Mordin's clinic. He'll help you out." He might charge, too, but she doubts it. Not when so many of them have so little to their name. "I'm glad I lent a hand," she says after some mulling. "Even if you could have handled it on your own."

[anarrowtotheeye]

Although he's walking away from her, his body is still ready to react at a moment's notice. He's confident enough that he can take her down if she turns hostile, which is why he's OK with turning his back on her, but he's not going to make the same mistake twice and allow anyone anymore free shots.

He does stop and laugh when she asks him that question though. There's a cocky smirk on his face as he turns around to address her. "You don't know who you're talking to. I'm no mere recruit, woman. That pathetic ragtag group never stood a chance. I suppose your help granted me a quicker victory, but your help was never needed in the first place."

And as for her second offer of help, he merely waves her off. "I'll stick with the cricket. I don't trust magicians and parlour tricks."

[unyieldingly]

He's going to be a fun one to work with. She can just tell.

"Neither am I. But I also don't go out picking fights with strangers. Especially not in a world as unknown as this one." His clothes don't fool her; he's not native to Omega nor is he like Joker or Mordin, who know the system well enough. He's just as lost as she is, even if he's not going to admit it. "I'm sure you could handle them. But not ambushed in a dark alley where no one would hear a damn thing."

She shrugs lightly. "Suit yourself. And they're not tricks. I can't pull doves out of my furs."

[anarrowtotheeye]

"And what makes you think I can't handle an ambush in the dark?"

Dun shakes his head with disbelief; the nerve of some people. He's the best fighter in Wei, better than the Five Great Generals and his lord's bodyguards. He might be lacking in strategy but he makes up for it with his deadly skill in martial arts.

This conversation is over; in his opinion all this woman wanted to do was enforce her importance in the fight, but Dun's sure that he would've been OK by himself. It might've taken him a few minutes longer, but he'd have finished it, no sweat. Dun is out of here.