|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri Mar 30, 2012 5:11 pm
 His day was not going well.
Not that it ever went well, not really, but today happened to be a little worse than usual. He'd already had a small 'disagreement' with another Blackheart earlier in the day, although that one had been neatly resolved by a ten-minute sparring match. It'd ended in a draw, which, though not as satisfying as a victory, had been enough for him to prove that he could fight a bigger opponent to a standstill. Good enough. But then the other man had ruined it by claiming there was no way he'd won fairly and demanding a rematch, so proper satisfaction would have to wait until then.
He was plagued by mosquitoes -- tiny, but annoying and unavoidable. And worse, he'd probably have to fight alongside these very same people. While he was pretty good about cleanly dividing work and not-work, he still didn't have to enjoy their company, and he anticipated potential problems down the line. Bothersome.
At least his patrol was looking to be fairly quiet. His route this night had taken him all the way out to the outskirts of Poena Privus's grounds, almost to the border of Moonfall. This route tended to be peaceful, even at night; most of the other Reapers and Blackhearts had retired for the night, and not many Witch Eaters would venture this close to the organization's stronghold. Still, he stayed on alert as he walked, tracing a path that was becoming familiar to him.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed May 02, 2012 12:08 am
 When Jarek had a lot of free time on his hands with absolutely zero outlet, he tended to get incredibly violent. It wasn't even a nice, restrained violence, where he could carve or air box, or even go for a jog. No, when the urge to hurt something came over him, he had to get it out or things would go south very quickly. Then again, he supposed that it didn't really help that his familiar had a terrible habit of egging him on and pissing him off, but nobody was perfect.
Finally he'd had enough and, with a flick of the metal circle dangling from his collar, he stormed out of his home, doubling back to lock it, before heading for the woods outside of Moonfall. Many would say that it was reckless for him to go alone, his only light that of Grimm, the ball of sentient flame that floated by his shoulder, matching his pace easily; the whole mental bond thing came in handy. However he didn't care about Witch Eaters, not in the mood he was in and not with his abilities. He was no Cerberus Knight but he could definitely hold his own in a fight and that was all that mattered; he wasn't some punk kid anymore.
Jarek wandered until he came to the edge of the forest, far enough away from the city that he could make noise and not disturb everyone, but close enough that he could send Grimm to get help if necessary. With a slow smirk he allowed his magic to roll through his body, a sigh of pleasure passing his lips as he shifted his stance, facing down an old gnarled tree before launching into an attack.
He didn't put as much force into his blows as he could have; he wanted the tree to last and didn't want to get splinters. However his breathing was coming faster and a faint sheen of sweat was beginning on his exposed stomach and upper arms. Jarek's cheeks were flushed and, even as he grunted from exertion, he was smiling as if what he was doing was the most amazing thing he could be doing and, really, in his mind, it was. After only a few more punches the tree groaned, cracked, and topped, causing the Ars Lilium to lift a hand, shielding his eyes from splinters.
When he lowered his hand, peering at the fallen tree he noticed movement, amber eyes flicking up to stare at the shadowed figure. In the moon he caught a flash of blue and white, eyes narrowing a little as he watched the figure move; there was no way that this individual hadn't heard the tree collapse, so he decided to be a little brazen, stepping up onto the fallen tree and joggin in the direction of the other, keeping his senses around him; if it was a Witch Eater then there was no way in hell he was letting them into Moonfall.
"Hey, Girlie! he called out, a smirk, twisting his lips. "You lost, Princess?"
After all, the figure was rather feminine. If it wasn't a girl then... Well... Then he supposed that he could go for round two.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed May 09, 2012 2:53 pm
The distant sound of fists meeting wood gave him a moment's pause, and he left his designated patrol route to check it out. He could see a person punching a tree with surprising power, and as he approached, the tree went down with a crash that made him wince and check the shadows. If there was anything unfriendly around, it would undoubtedly have been attracted to that racket.
With a short shake of his head, he turned to head back onto his proper heading. If the man was attacked, he'd probably make an even bigger ruckus, and he could deal with that then. As it was, he had no desire to deal with someone insane enough to come out and have a punching match with a tree in the middle of the night. Then, a sudden call from behind him made him freeze.
So much for quiet.
His hands curled into fists and he gritted his teeth, holding back the immediate retort for a count of ten while he turned. "Don't. Call me that." Despite the shortness of his response, his irritation and anger was clear in his voice. The strange man had managed to hit a nerve in just a few words, but he was on patrol, and he couldn't afford to stop and teach the Ars Lilium some respect. Even if he wanted to.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu May 10, 2012 10:31 am
Jarek let an amused grin curve his lips as he watched the figure pause, angry tension practically radiating off the strange. It seemed that he'd already struck a nerve, not that that was something that was incredibly foreign in his interactions or anything. When the figure whirled his grin widened and he paused a few feet away from the stranger, flashing teeth at the other... Man's words.
"s**t, you're a guy? Damn. My mistake." he retorted, waving his hand dismissively. "You'd make a fabulous woman. Anyone ever told you that?"
Now that he could see the figure clearly he could tell that they most likely weren't a Witch Eater. Judging from the coloration of the armor he immediately pegged them for a Cerberus Knight... A really grouchy one at that. However he felt a bit more relaxed now that he'd determined that he wouldn't have to take any form of action to defend Moonfall or anything; being a good little servant to the kingdom tended to be rather exhausting... Mostly mentally.
"Cerberus Knight, eh? I suppose I should stop heckling a superior." Jarek mused, tapping his bottom lip with a claw. "Unless you're just... Wearing that armor for show. Are you playing pretend, Pretty Boy?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu May 10, 2012 4:52 pm
And the b*****d had the nerve to laugh at him. His gauntlets creaked alarmingly as his fists tightened further, metal shifting so that it wouldn't cut into his hands. "No. Most people know what respect is." He couldn't care less what people thought of him, so long as they kept it quiet enough that it never reached his ears. But he didn't have to tolerate disrespectful actions or words -- or wouldn't, if he hadn't been on patrol.
"Blackheart, actually." He glanced briefly down at his jacket -- he was dressed in much lighter clothes than most Blackhearts, and he wasn't as heavily armored as them. It was a common enough misjudgment that he didn't mind. He glanced up at Jarek's next comment, eyes narrowing. Two could play at that game. "No. Luckily for you, I'm on patrol and I don't have time to stop and beat the s**t out of you to prove it. Aren't you out past your curfew, Ars Lilium?"
Without waiting for an answer, he turned to head back to his patrol route, shoulders still tense with barely-restrained anger.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 07, 2012 11:35 am
"Sorry, Princess." Jarek countered, smirking. "I only give respect to people who have earned it."
It was obvious that the other man was starting to get incredibly annoyed with him. Jarek couldn't really blame him considering that he'd started the conversation by getting the man's gender completely wrong. Then again he was also itching to hit something that hit back instead of defenseless inanimate objects thus wouldn't hesitate to goad the other man into hitting him.
"Ars don't have curfews, Sweetheart, just Witches and Witchlings. Didn't they teach you that at Pretentious a*****e Academy?" Jarek countered, smirking and moving to follow him. "Scared to get your hands dirty, Princess?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 09, 2012 9:29 pm
It was like Jarek had picked up a manual on the fastest way to piss Theron off. He stayed on his path though, determined not to let some trash-talking goody-two-shoes distract him from his responsibilities.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me that," he snapped over his shoulder, heading through the forest. At this point, he almost hoped that a Witch Eater would pop up -- a target he could legitimately beat the s**t out of without having to worry about things like accidental deaths sounded fantastic. At the perceived slight, his tone went frosty. "I know a lot more about getting my hands dirty than you do, Ars." But he didn't intend on proving it while he still had half his patrol left. He wondered, briefly, if this infuriating man intended to follow him all the way back to the castle. That would be a true test of his patience.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
