[The upended table is all noise, like the growing tantrum of a child, when Alucard’s attentions would prefer to be hinged squarely on the show of her abilities with each passing moment. The delicate and theatrical spin of sharp-edged glass (which he can appreciate, in his own showy way), glinting in neon, before disappearing. He wants to ask about it, wants to know how it works, why the twin shard he keeps in his hand remains solid and solitary from the rest. Notes her quickness of settling into a fighting stance — would like to ask where she learned how to fight, with such readiness that implies both experience and constant practice.
And so these individuals, these ruffians sporting body mods and sneering looks, are all becoming quick inconveniences in his mind, despite his willingness to help. One of them is already down, the oxygen cut off from his brain forcing a blackout, making his body go slack and crumpling to the ground. Alucard steps over him as another large man rushes towards the dhampir, shouting something about minding his own business.
A duck to avoid a fist careening towards his face in he form of a hook. Glass shines in his hand, adjusted lightning quick at just the right angle—]
Where’d you learn to fight like this?
[—to be embedded directly into the assailant’s shoulder as his arm whips up to meet it, sharp enough to break through clothing as if it were paper. A scream resonates in his ear as a result, the other lurching away.
This is fine, right? A good place for conversation.]
[ Well, there's no harm in answering now, is there? To Emily, the fact that it would be a curiosity is a curiosity in and of itself, but her situation is only well-publicised in the Isles. Outside of it... ]
My father.
[ Not that she even has access to the full breadth of skills he passed down. That, like many other things, is locked away under the dulling ink stamped across the back of her hand. Each day, the murmurings of the Void get a little quieter; and with it, her gaze gets less sharp.
She'll explain -- ]
When my mother died, she was defenseless. She couldn't lift a single hand against her assailant.
[ Daud, his Whalers. They had the Outsider's gifts too, and rendered Corvo irrelevant because of it. It's still the worst day of Emily's life - worse than any too-long meeting, scolding, hangover or fussy dignitary.
Dodging an incoming blow, she hooks a leg around her attacker's foot, and pulls him right down. Her knee ends up digging into his back. ]
It was important that I not share the same fate.
[ She would not rest on careless expectations like Jessamine, or so Emily told herself - until she did exactly that and Delilah swept in. Maybe she isn't so different from her mother, after all. ]
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finalflight2018-12-25 12:21 am
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And so these individuals, these ruffians sporting body mods and sneering looks, are all becoming quick inconveniences in his mind, despite his willingness to help. One of them is already down, the oxygen cut off from his brain forcing a blackout, making his body go slack and crumpling to the ground. Alucard steps over him as another large man rushes towards the dhampir, shouting something about minding his own business.
A duck to avoid a fist careening towards his face in he form of a hook. Glass shines in his hand, adjusted lightning quick at just the right angle—]
Where’d you learn to fight like this?
[—to be embedded directly into the assailant’s shoulder as his arm whips up to meet it, sharp enough to break through clothing as if it were paper. A scream resonates in his ear as a result, the other lurching away.
This is fine, right? A good place for conversation.]
no subject
My father.
[ Not that she even has access to the full breadth of skills he passed down. That, like many other things, is locked away under the dulling ink stamped across the back of her hand. Each day, the murmurings of the Void get a little quieter; and with it, her gaze gets less sharp.
She'll explain -- ]
When my mother died, she was defenseless. She couldn't lift a single hand against her assailant.
[ Daud, his Whalers. They had the Outsider's gifts too, and rendered Corvo irrelevant because of it. It's still the worst day of Emily's life - worse than any too-long meeting, scolding, hangover or fussy dignitary.
Dodging an incoming blow, she hooks a leg around her attacker's foot, and pulls him right down. Her knee ends up digging into his back. ]
It was important that I not share the same fate.
[ She would not rest on careless expectations like Jessamine, or so Emily told herself - until she did exactly that and Delilah swept in. Maybe she isn't so different from her mother, after all. ]