atop the hill, thinking // open

[les victor alistair]

He pulled at the coat that covered most of this armor. It was indeed cold outside, but what kind of combatant would he be if he couldn’t stand a little bit of chill? Les was sitting at the top of Calton Hill, thinking to himself as he gripped onto the handle of Vlad. His brown curls brushed against his forehead, for every now and then a brief breeze would come by that set chills up and down his spine. Sceith wasn’t known as a “happy” place… at all, for that matter, so it was logical for him to feel some sort of fear. The main fear that he felt in the place was that you never knew when someone would attack you from behind.

Would it bother him if he just died like that? He thought about it and decided that it one, wouldn’t be a noble way to die, and two, he wasn’t sure what would happen to him if he did die. It was a touchy subject with him, something that he didn’t like to think about but his mind would bring it up every now and then.

They said that the view from this hill was the best you can get in Sceith. But, for some reason, it didn’t impress Les. Was it because he came here so often to think? Maybe so, but he needed to have some time for himself. Some “Les” time, if you could call it that. No one really showed up when he was thinking… and if anyone did, he never noticed them. Would someone show up today? Who would? Les concluded that he worried too much for his own sake.
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word count: pitiful [279].

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[Amri Amatzya]

There was one word to describe Amri when he was in Sceith, and that was bored. He obviously hadn't been hired to kill his fellows, so that was a no-go, and all the pubs were filled with vampires and werewolves and other creatures like that whom Amri hated. To put it simply, they pissed him off, for they had been born with extra powers that made them stronger, and he had had to work for his, cause he was human. Nothing ever came easily to him, like the world was trying to prove to him that his choice of life wouldn't work.

He was looking his usual fearsome self, wearing his newly cleaned hakama, armor, and of course, Banryuu on his shoulder. He had spent the morning polishing it to a sheen and washing the purple slip over it by hand. He didn't trust any of the slave girls at the fortress to do his cleaning, so he did it himself. His hakama as well, was now bright white and without any blood. You could've pointed out that being a warrior wearing white wasn't particularly wise, but white and blue were his colors, and the blue ferns that marked his armor were reminders that he was the blue-eyed curse.

His eyes were sharp as usual, but he wasn't really in a bad mood, which was good news for anyone he came across, and come across someone he did. There was someone on the hill, a young man like himself, only older. Was he human? Amri sure hoped so, otherwise he'd have to fight him, Sciethian or not, which would get him in trouble later.

"Yo," he said simply, walking slightly past the man and stopping, keeping his eyes forward and letting his braid fly in the breezes.

[les victor alistair]

He wondered if any women would walk out to the hill and, sure, that subject excited him a bit. But some of the women in Sceith were rather brute, whether women were considered property by men or not. He remember the one time he came into contact with a brute woman, and the outcome was ugly. No, he didn’t lay a finger on her, but she sure did lay one on him. The way he handled the whole situation, he could’ve been considered a saint in Sceith by the way he got out of the event without touching her. Usually a man would resort to that, but to Les that was his last resort.

Les gripped his sword instinctively as he felt the presence of another person. But, his hope for it being female was crushed. A male, rather short in size, walked past him and halted his movement, before speaking to him. Time and time again, Les had to make himself see past someone’s physical appearance, because any man that owned a sword within Sceithian boarders was lethal.

“Hello to you, as well,”

[/b] he spoke with a harsh nod of the head. He inspected the gear of the man; his clothing seemed to be from a faraway country. Because Les searched in his brain to see if any man he had killed before was wearing something like this guy was, but nothing came. Though, instead of worrying about his fashion choices, Les should’ve been more worried about the rather large sword the man had owned. “That’s a nice choice of weapon, if I may say so.”
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word count: 267.
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[Amri Amatzya]

Amri smirked, but the man wouldn't be able to see it. So far, he was satisfied, and fairly certain he was human. Then, something struck him. It was one of the rarest things to ever occur in Amri's existence. It was something that made him question who he was and what he stood for. If you told someone who knew him that this had happened, they would demand to know where the real Amri was, for this was something that happened less than once in a million years. Still can't guess it? If you guessed love, you would be dead wrong. In fact, that was more likely than this. Doubt? Still pretty rare, but not the same. Give up?

An idea.

It was so odd that even Amri blinked his eyes slightly, but he did in fact have an idea. Though he liked the idea very much so, he still thought it too soon to jump right into it. After all, a guy has to have standards, and this was something very important, something that could affect whether he lived or not, but it was still something he had dreamed of, something he had always wanted to achieve.

He turned around and swung Banryuu off his shoulder, holding it in front of him with the tip on the ground, grinning like a schoolboy...a scarily strong, murderous schoolboy. "Isn't it, though? Some people have their favorites, I have my one." He tossed his head slightly to get his bangs out of his eyes. He inspected the man carefully. Yes, he was human. Taller than him, which irked him slightly, but he supposed that would be good. He looked like he was wearing armor, which was also good. "You have a good eye for weapons, but can you read?" Yes, it was true, Amri was already thinking about carefully selecting a group of comrades. Being strong was the most important, but he also wanted to have a group of guys whose strengths and weaknesses completed each other. Amri was strong, but he needed someone who could read, and maybe even write. If this man couldn't, he would still considered him, but finding a literate warrior was his top priority.

[les victor alistair]

He continued to inspect the person, noting his choice of style and his selection in weapon. He quickly drew his conclusion, ”He must have some muscle under all that baggy clothing.” Les also had a nice build, but it was easily noticeable, but it was nothing for a Sceithian man to gloat about. He could have been much stronger, and he could have chosen a bigger weapon. No! He couldn’t think of ever having a different sword than Vlad. Vlad was irreplaceable.

To carry such a huge sword around all day, the male must have been strong. Eyeing the man as he swung around, Les got a better view of the sword. A small smirk crossed his face and Les pushed himself off the ground. The boy appeared to be acting nice towards him, but all it meant was that he wanted something. He looked down lovingly at Vlad, “…same here.”

[/b]

Though, once he mentioned something about weapons and couldn’t help but silently agree, but… what was with asking him if he had the ability to read? Of course he did, but Les never thought that he had more education than the next person. Though, he did know how to write, and not a lot of people knew how to do that, unless you were upper-class or extremely lucky. Les considered himself lucky. “Yes, I do know how to read.”[/b]
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word count: 230.
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[Amri Amatzya]

Anothersmile came onto Amri's face. So far, so good. If he could write...then he could send warning letters, something he had tried to do in the past for his own amusement. He kind of knew the letters, but in short, he had utterly failed. The piece of paper looked like she had attacked it instead, which he had ended up doing. The only legible words were 'wwwwaaaaasn,' 'fffak,' and 'ammmmmmmmpi.' It would not have been very threatening at all, and so he had decided to go without it and just attack the dame place instead of letting them simmer.

But still, reading was not the only thing he wanted to know. He needed someone he could count on in battle, someone who wouldn't scream, someone he wouldn't need to go running to save. And of course, someone willing, but the test for that would come later. Right now he needed to develop a more discreet way to ask, 'how strong are you?' After all, he didn't want to be too obvious, or that would ruin the way he'd go about offering. But, thankfully for him, he thought of a way.

"Try to lift Banryuu, it's easier than it looks." Actually, it was probably harder than it looked, but he wanted to appear as casual as possible. If he did make a group of mercenaries, he knew he would be the leader, but he didn't want to be 'untouchable.' He enjoyed chilling and drinking with friends, which he hadn't had as much of since he came to this country. He was fairly outgoing when he wasn't killing or attacking, which many found odd, but his goals in life were to be strong and enjoy it while it lasted.

[les victor alistair]

The size of the boy’s sword intimidated Les, and that was for sure. How could he go about the whole day holding that thing without getting sore joints, muscles, or anything like that. Les looked at the boy, before his eyes slid back to take a peek at Vlad. He wondered if this boy had some kind of proposition for him, but killing mere humans was easy. This boy seemed to be stronger than Les was, and Les gathered all of that information just by his choice of weapon.

Les listened to the boy and a slight look of surprise caught his face. Wait… what? He wanted him to lift such a heavy-looking sword? It was probably lighter to the boy if he had owned it for a long amount of time, but… Les knew it wouldn’t be easy. “…`Doubt it,”

[/b] he said quickly, his face becoming serious. He sheathed Vlad, before reaching out to the huge blade.

He took it and lifted it, but not well above his head, like he was sure the boy could do. He did, however, manage to lift it up to his head, but that was probably pathetic in the boy’s eyes. Wow, was he that out of shape? Shaking his head, he placed the sword’s tip to the ground again and extended the end to the boy. “You must have incredible endurance and strength,”[/b] he said, pausing, “… just carrying this… Banryuu around all day impresses me.”[/b]

But Les doubted that the boy was just fishing for compliments.
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word count: 254.
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[Amri Amatzya]

Amri watched him with a scrutinizing, but impressed eye. So he could actually lift it? Yes, that was good. Right age, right gender, right race, could read, and was strong. He nodded his head at him, and took Banryuu back within his grip and put it back and his shoulder, then turning around, but not moving forward. He looked out over the hills, with a strong yet somehow elegant silhouette. This part he had already thought about, which made three ideas in one day, very impressive for him. He thought that this was by far his best, thought.

"Ever heard of Amri Amatzya? He's a mercenary, and he's looking to make a group that he can be the leader of, who will follow him even after he leaves this area. Sounded interesting to me." Now everything depended on his answer. This way he could know what the man thought of him without his judgment being clouded by, well...his sword. He wanted to know the most pure, authentic answer. If the man passed, then he had won a great ally, if not, well, then, Amri would move on and continue his search, for his comrades had to be perfect.

"By the way, what's your name?" He had almost forgotten about that part. Speaking of which, he needed to come up with a name for his group, but he supposed that could wait until he had gotten an appropriate number. But he should really start thinking about it, for it needed to be good.

[les victor alistair]

Les stroked the stubble on his face and wondered what to think of the little group this other man was planning. It sounded to be serious, though, and he needed something to pass the time. “I’ve never heard of this Amri Amatzya, but…”

[/b] his voice drifted off as he thought more deeply about it. Was this what he truly wanted? He wanted to pass the time and get out of his more lazy habits, but would this small power-struggle inside of him get the better? No, he wasn’t like that, he didn’t need power.

The boy’s question caught his mind back to reality; Les blinked rapidly for a while and he shook his head. “Oh… yeah, my name’s Les. Les Alistair,”[/b] he said with a small grin. He rubbed his stubble more before running a hand through his brown curls, “… oh, and about the group thing…”[/b] Was he sure that is what he wanted to do? It may just pay off, but there was something, some seed planted deep inside his brain that said it was a bad idea. Oh, wait! He had nothing to fear except for death, and that is something he had fought off before, right? No worries!

“It sounds like something very interesting, something I’ll be sure to do,”[/b] he said, his small grin turned into a tiny smirk. He touched the handle of his sword, but he wasn’t going to draw it, rather just make a conversation. “So Banryuu is what you call your blade? That’s an interesting name…,”[/b] he said with, now, a more sincere smile. This boy could probably kill him with one swing, but Les didn’t worry too much about that. Right now all he wanted was a little bit of conversation.
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word count: 290.
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[Amri Amatzya]

"Yes...Banryuu." It was one of two things he had gotten from his short visit to Japan, that and the outfit he wore. Other than that, the Oriental country had been disappointing. He thought that with their feudal system there would be wars left and right, but he seemed to have gotten there during an annoying time of peace. He had shaken things up a little, but he had taken more from the country than what he had given to it. "Means 'Barbarian style,' seemed to fit it pretty well." In fact, it was hard to argue that Banryuu didn't have style. The enormous blade gave that kind of aura.

He turned around to face him again with a smirk on his face, looking him up and down for a last minute check. It would take Les awhile to prove to him that he could be trusted, but he was definitely willing to give him a chance. After all, he had a tendency to rush into things without second thought...and probably without a first thought either. And anyway, the sooner he started this group, the sooner it would be completed, and that was what he was really looking forward to; a group of the strongest mercenaries. They would be the terror of every country. Eventually they would become a household name that everyone would fear. Whole villages would relocate when they heard they were coming into town. And they would all be human, to prove to those stinking other races that anyone could be strong as long as they worked for it. Maybe one day they'd even go back to his village, and they'd wish that they hadn't been right. They would wish that Amri wasn't a blue-eyed curse, but he was, oh how he was.

"My name is Amri Amatzya," he said, holding out his hand, "I like you."

[les victor alistair]

Les smiled at the strong young man. He seemed quite attached to his blade, something that Les deeply admired. It even appeared that he held a deeper love for Banryuu than Les did for Vlad. He had made plenty of kills himself with the helping hand of Vlad, but how many had this boy made with his Banryuu? Gripping his words back, he replied in his same friendly tone, “… ah. I named mine Vlad, after Vlad the Impaler…” Les laughed, brushing his brown curls from his face, “… whenever people hear me call him that, they refer to him as Dracula.” He had actually considered to call him Dracula, but it would have been wrong to change his name. Les wouldn’t want someone to just come in a change his name, right? Vlad was to be treated as a human, like his son almost.

The boy turned to face him, and Les saw the smirk come across his face. That facial expression could mean a verity of things, such as laughter or waiting for a new, easy kill. If it were the later, Les wouldn’t go easily. Though, he waited, to see what his intentions were. He wasn’t going to ruin something just by assumptions. He, the boy, spoke to him, stating his name and outreaching his hand. Oh, so this was the Amri fellow who wished to start a group?

Les smiled, looking as if he were satisfied with meeting the lad. He shook Amri’s hand heartily before dropping his own hand. “So, you’re the Amri fellow, eh?”

[/b] He looked to the side for a brief moment before setting his eyes on the boy. His smile changed into a laugh, and then back into a smile. It seemed that Les was having a decent day today. He rubbed his neck, “… that’s great. I certainly wouldn’t wish to be not to your liking, with that huge specimen at your side.”[/b] Les’ smile slowly grew in size.
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word count: 328.
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[Amri Amatzya]

Amri furrowed his eyebrows as the man talked about Vlad the Impaler and Dracula. What was he talking about? When it came to his head, he was skilled only in three matters: street smarts, strategy, and common sense. He did not know about legends or stories, because they didn't matter, unless he was in them. He knew in a few places around the world there were tales about him, the man who had received his blade from the devil and then killed him with it, which actually wasn't far from the truth. But the devil had been an evil little blacksmith. Amri didn't believe in the devil or God, or anything except his own sheer force.

But at least it proved that this man did have some education. Pretty much anything would help. Maybe he could even get him to teach him, things like how to write his name and at least counting the amount of fingers he had. That's right, Amri didn't even know how many fingers he had. He knew only five numbers (Yes, and five was one of those numbers) because they were the ones that mattered. He didn't even know how much it cost to hire him. He always just required, 'a lot,' and was given that much. And it could be helpful to know his name.

"I'd imagine so," he said in reply to Les's statement about being glad that he liked him. No, you definitely didn't want to be on his bad side. People he didn't like seemed to have tendency for not living very long, but then again, Banryuu did have a rather short temper. Amusement came to Amri's face as he tossed his bangs out of his eyes once again. They were always getting in the way, but he had grown rather attached to them and just couldn't cut them off.

"Well then," he asked, "Will you join me? Become the second member in what will become a group of the strongest mercenaries? I could do with someone who can read and write."

[les victor alistair]

Les caught his eyebrows rut, but he played it off as if he didn’t see it. This whole ‘meeting’ and ‘recruiting’ thing was getting old quick; he desperately wished to be doing something else. Something else that had to do with the opposite gender. Like, meeting women at the bar, which was, oddly, becoming more of a trend. But, hey, Les had no problem with women showing off their rogue side. Wait… where was he again? Oh, yeah, right! He was talking to this Amri kid about joining his group, which meant that he would be killing a lot more people now. That part didn’t really bother him as much as that little, nagging voice in the back of his head… Plus, why did this young man need someone who could write? Was the lad that horrible at it?

Of course, Les would never ask such a shameful question to someone who could cleave his arm, head, and/or other various body parts off with just a few swings of his Banryuu. So he just kept his mouth shut. Les nodded to the young man, with a pleasant smile on his face. “Sure, I’d be honored, Amri,”

[/b] he said in his best charming tone of voice. But was he really honored? ‘Privileged’ or ‘thrilled’ was more of the words to use, but ‘honored’ just rolled off of his tongue. All Les could do was shrug mentally, for once you say something you are completely unable to take it back.
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[Amri Amatzya]

"I see, wise choice," Amri informed him while nodding his head slightly. After all, this was a deal, but he hoped to truly develop a friendship with this man. "From now on, you will call me Big Brother." He had actually thought about that quite a bit. He wouldn't want to be called Amri by his comrades, but nor would he want them to call him their leader. He had decided on, 'brother,' but realized they should call him 'big brother,' to show that he was indeed in charge, but he had wanted it to be more subtle. Yes, it could be said that Amri worried the most about the things that weren't very important, but then again, what else did he have to worry about? Many people misinterpreted his desperate desire to become strong as a symptom of a fear of death, but it was more like something to pass the time until he did die. He knew he was going to die or get killed, and that his life would be shorter than your average one, he had no misgivings. Which was why he was going to live it to the fullest now.

Now that the pleasantries were over, he could really know this man; have conversation that lacked tests. He wanted to know what made him tick. What his battle strategies were. What his reason was. Of course, he wouldn't expect that all to be done on the top of this hill. He reached over and put a hand on his shoulder is a display of the brotherly affection he was already beginning to show, "Now that business is over," he stated, pleasant expectation flitting over the edges of his youthful voice, "let's find a pub and get drunk off our asses."

[les victor alistair]

It was indeed a wise choice, but was it a wise choice for Les? Only time would tell. His first order of business with this young man, Amri, was to call him big brother. Seriously? It wasn’t that bad, but did he have to call him that around the ladies? He wouldn’t reject the idea of it, nor would he simply not do it, but it would be something that he would grow to detest until used to it. Nevertheless, so was everything new that you had to learn to live with.

A pleasant smile rolled onto his face, and his eyes glimmered a bit from the whole upturn of the day. Becoming part of something was a lot more satisfying than just lying around on the hill thinking. Les would have been asleep by now, for his thoughts always turned into slothful nothings. He could imagine himself floating on a cloud, up in the sky without the fear of falling; of course, women would accompany him on that cloud. Women seemed to clog his thoughts, now a days.

He felt a brush, a touch of the shoulder. Les blinked his now glazed over eyes, his mind was snapped back into reality. He nodded his head and his smile decreased to a smaller size. “Yeah, I agree…!” At least they both had something in common: booze, liquor, alcohol. He turned and began to walk, hoping that he and Amri could have some man time.
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word count: 244.

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