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Akila was drunk, That state of being wasn’t exactly unique to the pirate. When she was on land, the money that did not go to paying her crew or upkeep on her ship and weapons went to booze. Twas the life of the pirate, whether it be by sea or by alcohol, they shall always be tilting.
Having caused a loud ruckus in the tavern this night, Akila found herself thrown out of the establishment. That, once again, was not anything new. There wasn’t a tavern in Egypt that hadn’t shown her the door, though never was it permanent. Akila found herself stumbling along, looking for the next place that would take her coin.
It was when she was walking alone in the darkness of night did she notice two figures. One was ahead of her… the other behind her. Akila may be drunk, but she was always on her guard. They were eyeing her, a thirsty angry look in their eye. Who were they? The list of people Akila pissed off was too large to count. If she wasted her time remembering them, she had little room in her brain for any other function.
One of the men grabbed Akila and shoved her into an ally. The pirate laughed, “Oh so we met?” She joked at them. The other took a swing, hitting her right in the gut.
Well, fuck you too.
It wasn’t like these men were so overly large. They weren’t soldiers. Still, two men against one woman wasn’t fair odds… normally. But Akila wasn’t one to play fair. When she doubled over, her hand grabbed some of the sand beneath their feet, Coming back up she flung it straight into one of the men’s eyes. The other went at her with a dagger. She swiftly took a step back, narrowly missing the blade as it sliced towards her stomach. Fuck.
Her fist collided with the man’s crotch, where his knees buckled. She brought her arm back and then now knuckle met his face- Hard. Hard enough that he went down just as the other recovered from his momentary blindness. He brought his own dagger to Akila’s arm, ruby-red blood now sliding down her flesh. Her lip curled into a growl and she swept her foot out, causing the perpetrator to trip. It was at that moment Akila got on top of him pounding his face in over and over again.
“Fuck. You.” Akila spat at the pair and stood back up. The dagger was still in her arm, hurting like a bitch. That’s one way to sober her up. Her eyes flickered as someone new rounded the corner. It was a man that was much larger than the two that just thought they could take her on. He had a gait that was much more experienced than the two. A balance that came from fighters, sailors, thieves, and entertainers. He dressed simply, which highlighted the broadness of his shoulders and muscled arms. Akila raised a brow, “What did I piss you off too?”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Akila was drunk, That state of being wasn’t exactly unique to the pirate. When she was on land, the money that did not go to paying her crew or upkeep on her ship and weapons went to booze. Twas the life of the pirate, whether it be by sea or by alcohol, they shall always be tilting.
Having caused a loud ruckus in the tavern this night, Akila found herself thrown out of the establishment. That, once again, was not anything new. There wasn’t a tavern in Egypt that hadn’t shown her the door, though never was it permanent. Akila found herself stumbling along, looking for the next place that would take her coin.
It was when she was walking alone in the darkness of night did she notice two figures. One was ahead of her… the other behind her. Akila may be drunk, but she was always on her guard. They were eyeing her, a thirsty angry look in their eye. Who were they? The list of people Akila pissed off was too large to count. If she wasted her time remembering them, she had little room in her brain for any other function.
One of the men grabbed Akila and shoved her into an ally. The pirate laughed, “Oh so we met?” She joked at them. The other took a swing, hitting her right in the gut.
Well, fuck you too.
It wasn’t like these men were so overly large. They weren’t soldiers. Still, two men against one woman wasn’t fair odds… normally. But Akila wasn’t one to play fair. When she doubled over, her hand grabbed some of the sand beneath their feet, Coming back up she flung it straight into one of the men’s eyes. The other went at her with a dagger. She swiftly took a step back, narrowly missing the blade as it sliced towards her stomach. Fuck.
Her fist collided with the man’s crotch, where his knees buckled. She brought her arm back and then now knuckle met his face- Hard. Hard enough that he went down just as the other recovered from his momentary blindness. He brought his own dagger to Akila’s arm, ruby-red blood now sliding down her flesh. Her lip curled into a growl and she swept her foot out, causing the perpetrator to trip. It was at that moment Akila got on top of him pounding his face in over and over again.
“Fuck. You.” Akila spat at the pair and stood back up. The dagger was still in her arm, hurting like a bitch. That’s one way to sober her up. Her eyes flickered as someone new rounded the corner. It was a man that was much larger than the two that just thought they could take her on. He had a gait that was much more experienced than the two. A balance that came from fighters, sailors, thieves, and entertainers. He dressed simply, which highlighted the broadness of his shoulders and muscled arms. Akila raised a brow, “What did I piss you off too?”
Akila was drunk, That state of being wasn’t exactly unique to the pirate. When she was on land, the money that did not go to paying her crew or upkeep on her ship and weapons went to booze. Twas the life of the pirate, whether it be by sea or by alcohol, they shall always be tilting.
Having caused a loud ruckus in the tavern this night, Akila found herself thrown out of the establishment. That, once again, was not anything new. There wasn’t a tavern in Egypt that hadn’t shown her the door, though never was it permanent. Akila found herself stumbling along, looking for the next place that would take her coin.
It was when she was walking alone in the darkness of night did she notice two figures. One was ahead of her… the other behind her. Akila may be drunk, but she was always on her guard. They were eyeing her, a thirsty angry look in their eye. Who were they? The list of people Akila pissed off was too large to count. If she wasted her time remembering them, she had little room in her brain for any other function.
One of the men grabbed Akila and shoved her into an ally. The pirate laughed, “Oh so we met?” She joked at them. The other took a swing, hitting her right in the gut.
Well, fuck you too.
It wasn’t like these men were so overly large. They weren’t soldiers. Still, two men against one woman wasn’t fair odds… normally. But Akila wasn’t one to play fair. When she doubled over, her hand grabbed some of the sand beneath their feet, Coming back up she flung it straight into one of the men’s eyes. The other went at her with a dagger. She swiftly took a step back, narrowly missing the blade as it sliced towards her stomach. Fuck.
Her fist collided with the man’s crotch, where his knees buckled. She brought her arm back and then now knuckle met his face- Hard. Hard enough that he went down just as the other recovered from his momentary blindness. He brought his own dagger to Akila’s arm, ruby-red blood now sliding down her flesh. Her lip curled into a growl and she swept her foot out, causing the perpetrator to trip. It was at that moment Akila got on top of him pounding his face in over and over again.
“Fuck. You.” Akila spat at the pair and stood back up. The dagger was still in her arm, hurting like a bitch. That’s one way to sober her up. Her eyes flickered as someone new rounded the corner. It was a man that was much larger than the two that just thought they could take her on. He had a gait that was much more experienced than the two. A balance that came from fighters, sailors, thieves, and entertainers. He dressed simply, which highlighted the broadness of his shoulders and muscled arms. Akila raised a brow, “What did I piss you off too?”
After seventeen years, there was a routine to preparing to leave home. First, a stop to make an offering at Sekhmet's temple; to mark his preparation for the new campaign, to pledge each and every life he took to the blood-thirsty goddess. Then, a trip to the markets to find gifts for his wife and daughter; physical reminders of his promise to come home to them. If it wasn't too late, then it was home for dinner with his family, and to tuck his daughter in to bed with a bedtime story. Persenet was well cared for by her mother, of course, and no Egyptian would fault Abrax for his time spent away from home - but, he did enjoy showering his only child with attention when he could.
Of course, it was usually too late to see Persenet by the time Abrax had wrapped up his other business - and the other welcome home many husbands looked forward too was, thankfully, no longer an obligation he had to fulfill. So on those occasions, Abrax found himself drawn to taverns; drinking, companionship, and many opportunities for gambling all pastimes preferable to his wife's bed.
Tonight, the soldier hadn't even made it that far, before his attention had been captured by something else. A pair of matching necklaces hadn't added any noticeable weight to the bag slung across his back, though his insignia had. At home, he was too well-known to require it, and preferred to give strangers little reason to pay him any mind - though as he watched a pair of men shove a petite woman into the gap between buildings, Abrax momentarily regretted the decision. He settled his hand on the hilt of the long knife he wore in the city, and followed the trio into the shadows.
Suffice to say, the sight that met him was not the one he had expected - and feared. The woman, swaying and bloodied, had managed to subdue both men. Though, on a quick glance, Abrax knew they weren't soldiers. Which was just as well, given the complication of seeking discipline for another commander's men. As she finally noticed him, the woman turned - the rancor in her voice causing him to take a slight step back, hands turned palm-out in front of him. She was visibly drunk, and he was more than her match in height and weight; but fighting a woman who'd just nearly been assaulted wasn't something he particularly wanted to do.
"Seems to me if you had, it would be well worth my time to let the annoyance go." Abrax gestured to the groaning men, wondering how much time they had before they got back to their feet. There wasn't any pleasure or glory to be had scrapping in shadows with men who were not his equal. "I thought you might need assistance."
His tone indicated how fully aware Abrax now was, that this was no longer the case; though as his gaze trailed down from her face, his attention caught once more on her blooded arm, and the small knife still lodged in it.
"Here, let us leave them so that I can tend to your arm."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
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After seventeen years, there was a routine to preparing to leave home. First, a stop to make an offering at Sekhmet's temple; to mark his preparation for the new campaign, to pledge each and every life he took to the blood-thirsty goddess. Then, a trip to the markets to find gifts for his wife and daughter; physical reminders of his promise to come home to them. If it wasn't too late, then it was home for dinner with his family, and to tuck his daughter in to bed with a bedtime story. Persenet was well cared for by her mother, of course, and no Egyptian would fault Abrax for his time spent away from home - but, he did enjoy showering his only child with attention when he could.
Of course, it was usually too late to see Persenet by the time Abrax had wrapped up his other business - and the other welcome home many husbands looked forward too was, thankfully, no longer an obligation he had to fulfill. So on those occasions, Abrax found himself drawn to taverns; drinking, companionship, and many opportunities for gambling all pastimes preferable to his wife's bed.
Tonight, the soldier hadn't even made it that far, before his attention had been captured by something else. A pair of matching necklaces hadn't added any noticeable weight to the bag slung across his back, though his insignia had. At home, he was too well-known to require it, and preferred to give strangers little reason to pay him any mind - though as he watched a pair of men shove a petite woman into the gap between buildings, Abrax momentarily regretted the decision. He settled his hand on the hilt of the long knife he wore in the city, and followed the trio into the shadows.
Suffice to say, the sight that met him was not the one he had expected - and feared. The woman, swaying and bloodied, had managed to subdue both men. Though, on a quick glance, Abrax knew they weren't soldiers. Which was just as well, given the complication of seeking discipline for another commander's men. As she finally noticed him, the woman turned - the rancor in her voice causing him to take a slight step back, hands turned palm-out in front of him. She was visibly drunk, and he was more than her match in height and weight; but fighting a woman who'd just nearly been assaulted wasn't something he particularly wanted to do.
"Seems to me if you had, it would be well worth my time to let the annoyance go." Abrax gestured to the groaning men, wondering how much time they had before they got back to their feet. There wasn't any pleasure or glory to be had scrapping in shadows with men who were not his equal. "I thought you might need assistance."
His tone indicated how fully aware Abrax now was, that this was no longer the case; though as his gaze trailed down from her face, his attention caught once more on her blooded arm, and the small knife still lodged in it.
"Here, let us leave them so that I can tend to your arm."
After seventeen years, there was a routine to preparing to leave home. First, a stop to make an offering at Sekhmet's temple; to mark his preparation for the new campaign, to pledge each and every life he took to the blood-thirsty goddess. Then, a trip to the markets to find gifts for his wife and daughter; physical reminders of his promise to come home to them. If it wasn't too late, then it was home for dinner with his family, and to tuck his daughter in to bed with a bedtime story. Persenet was well cared for by her mother, of course, and no Egyptian would fault Abrax for his time spent away from home - but, he did enjoy showering his only child with attention when he could.
Of course, it was usually too late to see Persenet by the time Abrax had wrapped up his other business - and the other welcome home many husbands looked forward too was, thankfully, no longer an obligation he had to fulfill. So on those occasions, Abrax found himself drawn to taverns; drinking, companionship, and many opportunities for gambling all pastimes preferable to his wife's bed.
Tonight, the soldier hadn't even made it that far, before his attention had been captured by something else. A pair of matching necklaces hadn't added any noticeable weight to the bag slung across his back, though his insignia had. At home, he was too well-known to require it, and preferred to give strangers little reason to pay him any mind - though as he watched a pair of men shove a petite woman into the gap between buildings, Abrax momentarily regretted the decision. He settled his hand on the hilt of the long knife he wore in the city, and followed the trio into the shadows.
Suffice to say, the sight that met him was not the one he had expected - and feared. The woman, swaying and bloodied, had managed to subdue both men. Though, on a quick glance, Abrax knew they weren't soldiers. Which was just as well, given the complication of seeking discipline for another commander's men. As she finally noticed him, the woman turned - the rancor in her voice causing him to take a slight step back, hands turned palm-out in front of him. She was visibly drunk, and he was more than her match in height and weight; but fighting a woman who'd just nearly been assaulted wasn't something he particularly wanted to do.
"Seems to me if you had, it would be well worth my time to let the annoyance go." Abrax gestured to the groaning men, wondering how much time they had before they got back to their feet. There wasn't any pleasure or glory to be had scrapping in shadows with men who were not his equal. "I thought you might need assistance."
His tone indicated how fully aware Abrax now was, that this was no longer the case; though as his gaze trailed down from her face, his attention caught once more on her blooded arm, and the small knife still lodged in it.
"Here, let us leave them so that I can tend to your arm."
If this were some sort of story, and Akila was some sort of badass heroine, she’d rip the dagger out of her arm and tell the man to screw off, she doesn’t need help from anyone but herself. That had been her mantra since she killed her husband a decade and a half ago. But this wasn’t a story and Akila wasn’t an idiot. This wasn’t the first time she was stabbed and it certainly won’t be the last. She knew from experience that these wounds healed faster when handled properly instead of when she put the tough girl front and just pulled it out.
So instead she gave the new arrival a good, long stare. A thief would have more self-preservation than to help a wild girl with a knife in her arm. That rolled out that, at least. It didn’t stop the desire for her fingers to wrap around the hilt of the knife stashed underneath her kalasiris. But judging by the fact that the idiots thought two was enough to get the jump on her it was hard to believe they also paid a man to finish the job should they not be enough. If anything, the man would have approached her first.
Akila took a cautious step forward. It was unlike her to accept help of any kind. All her life she forged her own path, not even looking to the gods for assistance. They didn’t care, so why entreat them? But despite this Akila was a girl always looking for an opportunity, and who was she to turn what could be one away? She’d allow it to play out- for now at least.
At the very least she should go now before they came back to their senses and attacked again. There was no point in continuing this game, and her arm fucking hurt. No longer cautiously walking, she moved away from the alley with the man. But never once did she allow herself to relax. While her gaze was forward, she kept him within her peripherals, ready to move back should he suddenly lurch towards her. The pirate made too many enemies, and she still planned to make many more in the future.
“People don’t often make it a habit of inserting themselves into trouble just for the sake of others. You a guard? Soldier?” Akila questioned the man, dark gaze returning to examine him. “Or just a good guy?”
There was no such thing of good guys. People had an agenda, it was in their nature. Humanity was born and created with greed at their core. There were simply people who denied it, claimed to be good and ‘holier than thou’ but really they were just egotistical jerks that liked to put others down. Then there were people like Akila who embodied the greed. She didn’t fight who she was simply because of other’s expectations or societal norms. Most people, however, were somewhere in between. What did this guy want? Simply to do his job, or was he some freak that got off on being the ‘hero’ and expected some sort of reward or praise or what have you?
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
If this were some sort of story, and Akila was some sort of badass heroine, she’d rip the dagger out of her arm and tell the man to screw off, she doesn’t need help from anyone but herself. That had been her mantra since she killed her husband a decade and a half ago. But this wasn’t a story and Akila wasn’t an idiot. This wasn’t the first time she was stabbed and it certainly won’t be the last. She knew from experience that these wounds healed faster when handled properly instead of when she put the tough girl front and just pulled it out.
So instead she gave the new arrival a good, long stare. A thief would have more self-preservation than to help a wild girl with a knife in her arm. That rolled out that, at least. It didn’t stop the desire for her fingers to wrap around the hilt of the knife stashed underneath her kalasiris. But judging by the fact that the idiots thought two was enough to get the jump on her it was hard to believe they also paid a man to finish the job should they not be enough. If anything, the man would have approached her first.
Akila took a cautious step forward. It was unlike her to accept help of any kind. All her life she forged her own path, not even looking to the gods for assistance. They didn’t care, so why entreat them? But despite this Akila was a girl always looking for an opportunity, and who was she to turn what could be one away? She’d allow it to play out- for now at least.
At the very least she should go now before they came back to their senses and attacked again. There was no point in continuing this game, and her arm fucking hurt. No longer cautiously walking, she moved away from the alley with the man. But never once did she allow herself to relax. While her gaze was forward, she kept him within her peripherals, ready to move back should he suddenly lurch towards her. The pirate made too many enemies, and she still planned to make many more in the future.
“People don’t often make it a habit of inserting themselves into trouble just for the sake of others. You a guard? Soldier?” Akila questioned the man, dark gaze returning to examine him. “Or just a good guy?”
There was no such thing of good guys. People had an agenda, it was in their nature. Humanity was born and created with greed at their core. There were simply people who denied it, claimed to be good and ‘holier than thou’ but really they were just egotistical jerks that liked to put others down. Then there were people like Akila who embodied the greed. She didn’t fight who she was simply because of other’s expectations or societal norms. Most people, however, were somewhere in between. What did this guy want? Simply to do his job, or was he some freak that got off on being the ‘hero’ and expected some sort of reward or praise or what have you?
If this were some sort of story, and Akila was some sort of badass heroine, she’d rip the dagger out of her arm and tell the man to screw off, she doesn’t need help from anyone but herself. That had been her mantra since she killed her husband a decade and a half ago. But this wasn’t a story and Akila wasn’t an idiot. This wasn’t the first time she was stabbed and it certainly won’t be the last. She knew from experience that these wounds healed faster when handled properly instead of when she put the tough girl front and just pulled it out.
So instead she gave the new arrival a good, long stare. A thief would have more self-preservation than to help a wild girl with a knife in her arm. That rolled out that, at least. It didn’t stop the desire for her fingers to wrap around the hilt of the knife stashed underneath her kalasiris. But judging by the fact that the idiots thought two was enough to get the jump on her it was hard to believe they also paid a man to finish the job should they not be enough. If anything, the man would have approached her first.
Akila took a cautious step forward. It was unlike her to accept help of any kind. All her life she forged her own path, not even looking to the gods for assistance. They didn’t care, so why entreat them? But despite this Akila was a girl always looking for an opportunity, and who was she to turn what could be one away? She’d allow it to play out- for now at least.
At the very least she should go now before they came back to their senses and attacked again. There was no point in continuing this game, and her arm fucking hurt. No longer cautiously walking, she moved away from the alley with the man. But never once did she allow herself to relax. While her gaze was forward, she kept him within her peripherals, ready to move back should he suddenly lurch towards her. The pirate made too many enemies, and she still planned to make many more in the future.
“People don’t often make it a habit of inserting themselves into trouble just for the sake of others. You a guard? Soldier?” Akila questioned the man, dark gaze returning to examine him. “Or just a good guy?”
There was no such thing of good guys. People had an agenda, it was in their nature. Humanity was born and created with greed at their core. There were simply people who denied it, claimed to be good and ‘holier than thou’ but really they were just egotistical jerks that liked to put others down. Then there were people like Akila who embodied the greed. She didn’t fight who she was simply because of other’s expectations or societal norms. Most people, however, were somewhere in between. What did this guy want? Simply to do his job, or was he some freak that got off on being the ‘hero’ and expected some sort of reward or praise or what have you?