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zaiusrhalseer · 8 years

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Sophia & Zaius: Blood & Bullets

It had begun with a simple exchange of letters.

Zaius Rhal'seer had learned of her survival through chance, which he would admit quite easily was how he ended up intertwining through a great many people's lives. He'd penned something, almost out of curiosity more than anything else, and mailed it. To his pleasant surprise he'd received an answer within a few days.

Surprised to hear you're still kicking around as well.

Meet me at Scorpion Crossing right outside the Goblet.

The letter wasn't signed, which he'd expected, but given that he'd only sent out one missive of his own in the past few days, it wasn't hard to figure out who it was from. No date, either, which made him assume she meant as soon as possible. Good thing that he'd gotten together what he'd needed earlier. The hulking Keeper placed four metal plates into a large satchel, each one differing color according to the metal used to make it. Darksteel, adamantite, and two others. They were the same size and thickness, baring the fourth, as the metal inserts he would sometimes put into the chestpiece of his leather armor. This would be a good testing ground for those as well.

Assuming she didn't just shoot him in the head the moment he started down the path from the Steps of Nald to the Crossing. That thought made him grin. It was a warm day, something he was fine with, and he was dressed to fight as always; a personal set of leather and metal gladiator's armor that he'd been fine tuning over the years. He drew a few looks from the usual guards, the Blades eyeing him curiously; he was an oddity for his build alone, not to mention the strange, large satchel he was carrying over his shoulder, the leather and fabric straining under what must have been something very heavy within. They let him pass all the same, perhaps reasoning that he was just here for trade like so many others were.

Zaius looked around once he'd passed the entrance, scanning the pile of cargo ahead of him, then the walkways higher up. The heavy satchel he set down against the wooden palisade, just near the entrance, after making sure there was no enterprising trader, or Brass Blade, that had been eyeing him in a plan to make a move for it. Before he could find her, a familiar voice called out from behind, just past the entrance he'd gone through.

"Ah, thought that was you."

The Keeper sighed, and grudgingly turned around to face its source; Sophia Grave.

At first glance, she could have been any young adventurer crossing across Eroza, albeit one of the rare types; a machinist, complete with hand cannon on her hip. She wore a soft brown sweater, leather armored leggings, and thigh high riding boots. Even from where Zaius stood there were certain parts of the 'sweater' that were a touch bulkier, and certain parts of her leggings as well; likely reinforced with further protection, a favorite approach of the Keeper as well. Her arms were folded across her chest, each hand holding an elbow, the definition of relaxed. Under a straw-blond tight bun, deep blue eyes looked him over as she smiled slightly, knowing full well she'd gotten the drop on him.

"You look good," she commented idly.

"Flattery? Uh oh. This is a dangerous start." The Keeper looked her up and down, appraising her. "And you still have the same number of parts, from the looks of things." Sophia shrugged in response.

"No more dangerous than thought of you with a gun. Didn't think they were your style, honestly." The Keeper waved his free hand dismissively, grinning.

"They're not. What am I going to do with a gun I can't do without one? With my luck I'm going to be a terrible shot," he replied dryly. Sophia chuckled lightly.

"And I'll make fun of you relentlessly if that's the case. C'mon." She headed around the side of the Crossing, but the Keeper had something to retrieve first.

"One moment. Have to get something."

She nodded as she began walking out of the Crossing. "I'm just over here."

Zaius shouldered his metal-filled pack and followed Sophia out of the Crossing and around its outer wall, coming upon several of the training dummies that were used by adventurers and others. She was standing about 10 yalms away, arms folded, watching him catch up. “These here?" He asked, indicating the targeting dummies, and she nodded.

"Do you have a weapon on you?"

"No weapon, no. Something else." He set down the pack on one of the large raised rocks that adorned Western Thanlan, and Sophia looked on curiously at the sound of clanking metal it made. He reached in and removed a plate of unpolished steel, then walked to the training dummy she was standing across from. The body of the dummy was enchanted to be able to repair itself from almost any amount of damage, as were the weapons and shield it could be fit with. The shield in particular was Zaius' objective, and he gripped it with his free hand. There was a mild grunt of effort and he tore the wooden shield free of its mounting, replacing it with the metal insert he'd been carrying.

"That the metal you use for your armor?" Sophia asked. The Keeper grinned, and nodded as he walked back towards her.

"A copy of the original plate you shot up so many months ago. I need to see how my work is standing up, because I can't imagine you left it at that."

"Ah, good times." She removed her hand mortar from its holster as she spoke...and then bent over and removed a second one, slightly smaller, from her boot, offering the latter to the Keeper. "Alright, basics. Eorzean firearms are a touch different, but the basics are the same." Zaius looked at the offered hand mortar for a moment, then removed the clawed gauntlets that were usually always in place on his hands. Then he took the weapon from the Garlean's hand.

"Understood."

"The main difference," she continued, holding out her own weapon and pointing to the middle, "is this circular mechanism here-- the cylinder holds ammunition in Garlean firearms and gun-weapons. Eorzeans don't seem to have that bit down yet, but in any case, it pops out quite easily, if you get your hands on it. Its an easy way to disable a firearm."

"Less reloading. No wonder I have to dodge so many more bullets when I'm fighting Garleans."

"Many would also carry one of these. Loads ammunition quickly." Sophia pulled a speed loader, a small metal clip with six rounds facing forwards, from one of her belt pockets. Nearly faster than Zaius could follow, she opened the cylinder, loaded the hand mortar, and clicked it shut. He watched the motions, and after a second or two, opened the cylinder in his own weapon. At this point, he was curious if it was loaded or not.

It was not.

"And as far as firing goes, it's really as easy as it looks," she said, and offered him a speed loader as well. "Point and pull the trigger." The Keeper wasn't nearly as dexterous as Sophia was at loading his own weapon, being slow and deliberate in his motions in an attempt to make sure he didn't mess up. The cylinder clicked shut, and he nodded again, ready. "Point, then pull the trigger slowly. Any extra movement in the wrist will throw you off no matter how much you aim."

Zaius raised his right hand, and pointed at the plate on the dummy preparing to follow her instructions...then lowered it. "You first? I haven't usually seen you shoot from this angle. Usually I'm standing in front of you."

"Ha. Alright." The hyur raised her own weapon, but unlike before, it was pressed in close to her chest, and turned slightly on its side. Zaius stepped back for a better view, focusing intently on her motions and how she held the hand mortar. She used the trunk of her body to steady her aim, tilting and turning ever so slightly, and then she fired three shots in quick succession, all of which pile on top of each other in the metal sheet. The first shot alone punched a neat hole into the sheet, the next two shots so close on its heels that they barely expand the 'wound'. He raised an eyebrow.

"...tch. Good thing I decided on this first before challenging for a rematch." He moved closer to Sophia, refocusing on her. "Hold your stance." She nodded.

"Standing like this makes it a little easier on a shooter in a close range encounter. Such as when entering a building or room. It doesn't do to hold your weapon out at arm's length in front of you at all times, you know?" Zaius nodded, he along with many adventurers had gotten a great deal of practice in dealing with gun-toting soldiers ever since the Empire had invaded.

"Easier to take it from you, or point it away. Fewer options to hurt someone if they have control of the direction." The Keeper then mimicked her stance, doing a fair job of it. Instead of three quick shots, he fired once...and the round punched through the lower left part of the shield. An ilm or so more and he'd have missed completely. Zaius scowled, despite having hit the target on the first try! "...tch."

"You're pulling too hard. You're tense. I tend to fire as I exhale. Many novices tend to hold their breath, which can throw you off. In addition, try to use the flat of your finger rather than the joint. That way, you won't accidentally angle the barrel away when you pull." She instructed, and Zaius nodded, but never took his attention from the target.

He turned the mortar slightly in his hand, making the adjustments to his grip that she recommended. Briefly he glanced to her again, then focused in on the metal plate. The Keeper closed his eyes, began to exhale, and then they opened with a flash. The mortar went off again and...hit roughly the same spot. He growled. Sophia just smiled.

"The shot itself should be a sort of... foregone conclusion? You need to be calmed and relaxed when you pull the trigger. Take all the time you need to line up your shot, but don't pull the trigger until you know you have it."

"This is...absolutely not my thing," he growled, but all the same he tried again. Zaius lined up the shot, taking a few more moments with aiming. Watching him for a third time, she could see one of the simple mistakes he was making; his finger squeezing the trigger like he was trying to crush it, and pulling the barrel down and low as he fired again. This time the bullet missed the target completely, striking the dummy holding it. A better result if this was an actual fight, but not the objective.

"Mmh. Relax, Zaius. These are built to be fired by anyone-- no need to pull so hard. It's just a tap. Like a piano key. That's all it takes." While she worked to improve his aim, it was becoming apparent to her that the hulking Keeper was struggling to just stay calm. Sophia had seen enough target practice, and trained herself long enough to note that the Keeper's frustration was only rising. Indeed, his empty hand was curled into a fist! This time, when the mortar went off, the shot blew a small chunk out of the stone supporting wall behind the targeting dummy, and the Keeper's golden eyes were ablaze. She'd seen this before; they'd just been trying to kill each other the last time. Holding one hand out in front of him to stop him from firing again, her other hand went to the barrel of the gun and carefully pushed it down until it was pointed towards the dirt.

Zaius turned his head at a flash, his eyes locking onto Sophia's. Briefly, there was nothing there but rage...and then an eyeblink later, it was muted. Still there, but muted. Sophia's own eyes narrow just slightly when they locked with his.

"Alright, look. This isn't your fists or claws. It won't work harder for you with more force. You craft your own armor, you ought know how delicate you have to be building some components?"

"My hammer and forge generally do what I want them too," he rumbled, but obligingly closed his eyes, his broad chest expanding as he took a deep, slow breath, and exhaled in the same fashion. When he opened them, the fury was absent entirely, replaced by sly amusement. "But, before we go on, I'm going to change the plate. I'd like to know if *some* of these are bulletproof." Zaius glanced at the hand mortar in his grip, noted he had no way to holster it, and offered it back to Sophia.

"It takes practice. A different mindset, nearly." She took the weapon back and reloaded it for him.

Zaius walked back to the pack and pulled out a different plate, clearly heavier from the way he pulled it out and into both hands, and scraping sound it made being pulled from between the other pieces of armor. This one seemed to be similar to the last in shape, but was made of darksteel, and had was itself plated on the front with another, silvery material. He replaced the bullet ridden plate on the dummy with the new one, tossing the failed one aside and returning to the firing line. Silently, he extended his hand for the mortar, and she gave it back. "If you want, you can try a simpler stance. Would be easier, though a traditional stance is less useful in a practical sense."

"I don't think I'm close to 'practical' yet. Show me."

She moved into what at first looked a horse stance, but her legs are merely relaxed instead of bent at the knee. One foot shifted in front of the other by a few ilms, and she extended both her arms towards the target. "You're right-handed, if I remember correct?"

"Both. Trained for it."

"Smart, but for now you'll have to pick one."

"You don't shoot with both hands?" He asked, raising a brow.

"I do, but I learned with my right," she replied. The Keeper closed his eyes and growled once more.

"Fine. Left handed." In response, Sophia's left hand wrapped around the grip first, cradled by her right, with the gun lying squarely at her center. She leaned forward slightly from her previously straight-backed position, and then pushed both hands forwards at the target like she was going to punch it. After a moment, she fired another volley, using the remainder of her rounds. Before Zaius could comment, she quickly flicked the cylinder loose and reloaded, then fired once more, more shots echoing out over the desert landscape.

The first two rounds were tightly grouped, making noticeable dents in the armor where they struck, tightly clustered, in the center. The next cylinder worth of ammunition finished the job, punching holes through the plate. When it was clear she'd finished shooting, the Keeper looked at the battered metal, and scowled...and wordlessly went to replace it yet again, pulling out a third sheet from the back, this one dark blue. Once that was done, he once more mimicked Sophia's stance, since she'd remained in it even after finishing shooting.

"How does it look?" He asked, not taking his eyes off the target. The hand mortar was held in his left hand, his legs down in a stance closely matching her own. Sophia straightened her back and turned away from the target, eyeing him.

"It's good. But it does little if you jerk the weapon around when you pull the trigger," she says with a stern edge to her tone.

"Fine," he growled, and took visible effort to calm himself yet again. He closed his eyes to try and steady himself, opened them, breathed out, and fired. The shot was closer to the middle this time, and the Keeper's sour dispositioned lighted somewhat. "Progress."

"Indeed! Good shot," she nodded in approval. "You have a good eye for the form, you just need to keep your head and you've got it."

"...tch." The hulking Keeper rose out of the stance, and shook his head. "No. I could manage the form, but the calm, the focus. It's not really me." The Keeper said with a deep chuckle, his anger bleeding away. He looked back to Sophia.

"You're a good teacher. Me with a gun just wasn't meant to be."

"I'm almost relieved. Heh."

"Relieved?"

"Yeah, you don't really need another way to kill in your repertoire."

"Thanks for the compliment," and he chuckled. "Do me another favor? I've got one more piece of plating in my bag. I'd like to see if your gun can beat my metalwork."

"Absolutely. I brought a proper blunderbuss as well-- we can test that too if you'd like."

"...a what?"

"Ah, its a…" Her brow furrowed for a moment as she thought how to explain the very Garlean weapon. " two-handed firearm meant for close or medium range. S'got quite a kick."

"Two handed? Garlean?"

"Yes, although the Ishgardians are close to something similar. There's also the arquebus, meant for long range." After a very brief moment of thought, Zaius nodded and gestured at the plate. "See what it takes."

"Right." Sophia fired first with her hand mortar, adopting her guarded stance from earlier.

Zaius watched as the two shots sparked and flashed, ricocheting off the plate, and then he grinned. The Garlean herself flashed a frown. "Huh." She almost sounded surprised. "Let's try…" She reached into her belt, withdrew a small, ringed device and held in in front of the gun barrel, before letting her hand drop away-- it hung freely in front of the gun. The device spun wildly just before Sophia fired again. With a keen eye, Zaius noticed the bullet accelerated markedly when it passed through the spinning device...and his grin widened as the bullet struck flush..but didn't quite punch through. Sophia scowled. "Pff."

She took a step or two back, and holstered both her own hand mortar, and when she gestured for it, the one Zaius had been using as well. She moved towards a different set of rocks than the one Zaius had set his satchel on, nudged aside a small one, and reached down, retrieving a large case. This led Zaius to wonder just how long she'd been here waiting for him, although that train of thought was swiftly derailed as she took a knee and pulled a much larger firearm from it, his grin fading. She couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"I don't get to use this nearly as often. Your Machinists would know it for Garlean in a second." It was quite a bit heavier, judging from Sophia's stance. Curiously, she seemed to load it with pointed bullets, rather than round shot, and from the bottom of the grip at that. Zaius wasn't terribly pleased by that. She poked and prodded at the machinery-- Its length adjusted and a proper scope appeared from a compartment on top of the . She takes several steps back, then takes a knee, getting comfortable, and then…

The rapport of the weapon echoed much louder than even the hand mortar, and Zaius watched as the round punched a hole through the plate the size of his own head, his lip curling in irritation. Only the magical nature of the striking dummy prevented the bullet from very badly ruining the days of the people at the Scorpion Crossing. Sophia chuckled and stood up. "Looks like I win."

"Not yet," The Keeper replied, and went back to the bag he'd brought one final time. He pulled out one last plate; a mixture of the same dark blue metal from before, but mingled with some kind of black steel as well. He hold it up in one hand, his arm flexing tightly from the effort; that one was clearly not light. At all. "I wasn't planning to use this one...too heavy to wear all the time." The Keeper moved to the dummy, tossed the third, now-ruined plate to the dirt and dust below, and set the final one into place with an audible 'thunk'. Sophia noted that it wasn't just a different set of metals, but it was noticeably thicker as well, and she pursed her lips.

"Alright, let's see." As she had with her hand mortar, Sophia attached her gauss barrel from before to this weapon, settled into her kneeling stance once more, then fired. The kick jolts her frame, but it was clear to Zaius she was expecting it. He watched as the round created a noticeable, head-sized dent in the plate...but it held, and the Keeper grins broadly.

"Should have made a bet on this. Looks like I win."

Sophia Grave bit her lower lip, looking thoughtful. "... Say, how much does that material cost?"

"Enough." His grin faded slightly, his eyes narrowing into a look of suspicion very quickly. "...why?"

In response, Sophia pulled yet another device from her belt. She tossed it towards the striking dummy, and it hovered just above the plate Zaius had set up. Then she tapped a button on the side of her blunderbuss and fired... at the device she threw. Instead of shattering, the round caused the device to split into multiple, smaller hovering angled bits, and she fired again, and again. Each of the rounds bounced madly between the bits, which shifted ever so slightly to catch the rebounding and ricocheting bullets. The metal plate was struck from not just the front ,but the back, meaning that whoever was wearing it would have taken at least one or two of the bullets. His lip curled, showing fangs, and the plate eventually gave way, just as the rounds ran out of momentum.

"So I need one for the back as well. But I doubt that I'd just stand still and let you shoot me. I'd ay that's still my victory, Sophia Grave," he stated. Sophia shook her head, and walked closer to him.

"Back to the lab, until I can do it in one, then," she sighed, then shook her head. "Perhaps Mk.3 will do it."

"....Mark 3?" He raised an eyebrow, and turned to face her as she approached. "I've got a gunsmith working on some new toys back in the capital. It's prohibitively expensive though, so don't expect these to become standard issue."

"I suppose that's something to be thankful for." The Keeper went back to the plate, removed it from the striking dummy, and returned. He showed it to Sophia, turning the heavy metal about. The middle point had taken the most hits, and between the front and back impacts had finally given way. "I wouldn't be too disappointed. You probably would at least crack a few of my ribs with that first shot."

"Hm. Wouldn't be enough to stop you, I'm guessing." Sophia eyed the plate carefully as he presented it, taking mental notes.

"I'd be very angry?" Zaius offered.

"Sounds like that would be worse," she mutters, amused.

"I have to ask. How come you haven't just shot me in the head from a high rock?" The Keeper grinned when he asked this morbid question. She paused halfway through removing the gauss barrel from her blunderbuss, then answered him.

"Oh, I figure so long as you're amused, you won't bother me too much, unless you were bored or something." The gauss add-on was scorched all over, parts of it still hot to the touch. The Keeper's eyes gleamed in said amusement. With a shrug, she tossed it in the dirt. Let the Crossing wonder what it was.

"Well you're not wrong. I would like a re-match...one of these days."

"Likewise. You're interesting, I think." She went back to the case and set her blunderbuss into place on her back, for the moment. "You're all instinct, I'm all academics, and yet we aren't too different..." Facing the musclebound Keeper again, she crossed her arms. "To kill you like that would be a disservice to us both."

"Really?" Zaius asked, thoughtfully. " And I was going to say we're not that much alike at all. You have a lot of redeeming qualities. Loyalty, that kind of thing."

"Well yes, there is that, but... ah." She struggles to find the words. "...I don't need to do this, Zaius. Be here. I'm pureblood, I'm nobility-- I could have had it easy as a Magistrate or some such. But I like it here in the dirt with the savages. You can probably imagine, but spycraft isn't respected even by those who benefit from the work. I do it because its me."

"...tch. Savages? Now we're finding common ground, Sophia Grave." The Keeper grinned, and tilted his head to the side. He reached up a bare hand, almost like he was going to actually touch her face. Sophia watched it come forward, but didn't retreat. His hand then pulled away from her cheek before it would make contact, shifting down more in front of her throat....and slowly squeezed into a tight fist, his eyes growing half-lidded. The Keeper let out a low, rumbling purr, one that prompted the Garlean to open her eyes, as he went through the pretend motion of crushing her throat. "I never cared much for what others thought of me..."

"...So long as I get to test myself against death, I'm content." Sophia said, as if to finish his thought. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. When Zaius saw her eyes close, his own opened wide and wild, gleaming...and she felt his fingertips lightly touch her throat. Incredibly gentle, strangely, and missing the the normal razor-sharp claws he wore seemingly everywhere.

"I'll be your savage, Sophia Grave. Just so long as you promise one thing; to always do your best." Her chin dropped and she tilted her head, letting her jaw and cheek graze his fingertips.

"I expect nothing less from you," she said. His fingers continue to graze her jawline, her throat. He was more than capable of squeezing the life from her; she'd seen him to do it to others. The vicious, savage, base, primal joy of him, unleashed. She'd seen it as close as anyone had, but for one very significant difference than most; she was still alive. Sophia reached out and took his larger hand in hers. Her fingers shifted forward from his fingers to his palm.. then wrist... Her eyes open, locking with his. Her gaze was blank. No distant flirtation, no feigned interest or innocence. The tension was palpable, fierce, and the Keeper looked into her eyes for only a moment, before leaning in slowly, until he was close enough for his words to be warm when he whispered them;

"You first."

It doesn't take long after those words. With both her hands, she wrenched his wrist down and forward, then swung an elbow toward his face to create space between them. As big as he was, there wasn't a great deal of space Sophia had to haul him across. Instead of resisting, he leaned /into/ the move, and while he snarled in pain from the strike, the impact also sent a nasty jolt up Sophia's arm as well. She got the space she wanted, but instead of pressing an attack, Zaius straightened and looks over to his armored gauntlets where they lay discarded a few feet away. When Sophia didn't immediately press the attack, now a few fulms apart, he reached up and unbuckled several of the straps on his armor. His pauldron bounced once, but the 'leather' chestpiece landed with a loud 'THUNK'. Loud enough for Sophia to guess it had one of the plates he'd had, one of the stronger ones, in it.

Sophia shook the pain from her elbow, watching as his plated chestpiece hit the ground, leaving his torso vulnerable. "Get them," she ordered, unholstering her handmortar and small, curved dagger. "The gauntlets." The Keeper didn't move, not wanting to take his eyes from her, but when she gestured with the dagger towards the aforementioned armor, Zaius walked over and retrieved the armor, settling the gauntlets into place. Flexing his fingers, he turned back to face her.

Sophia tucked her hand mortar close to her chest just like before, cradled by her left hand holding her curved dagger. She saw him tense and lean slightly, readying himself. Could he actually do that? Read her well enough at this range to dodge a bullet? She takes a breath, then fired squarely at his chest.

Zaius skirted to the left, the bullet 'spanging' off of the armored plate on his right upper arm. He lunged forward, going in low and fast at her. As fast as he was, Sophia was faster, and adjusted her aim ever so slightly, firing at him again before he reached her. The Keeper couldn't avoid the second shot, not driving forward as he was, but he did turn as much as he could. All the same, the round pierced his right shoulder, above the upper arm plate, and he snarled in pain a spray of crimson gleamed in the sun behind him. Now that he was closer, Sophia swept her curved dagger in front of her to ward him off.

Zaius knocked aside the cut with his other armored hand, landing in a crouch. Sophia took a step back, and Zaius turned his frame sideways as she fired yet again, the bullet cutting a shallow line across his chest. The Keeper then took a short hop towards her, turning to the side and rising from his crouch, lashing out with his right leg at Sophia's torso, a simple side kick...but with nearly three hundred pounds of raging miqo'te behind it. Seeing it coming but unable to dodge, Sophia pulled her dagger-bearing arm down to cushion the blow...but it still struck hard enough to make her muffle a shout of pain, and barrel her over as well.

As she went, her other arm pointed at the Keeper. With a flick of her wrist, a wire spooled out from her gauntlet to wrap around the Miqo'te's outstretched leg before he could pull it back. Zaius knew exactly what might come next, a a result of their last near-fatal encounter, the many tricks it could deploy. His leg still extended, he brought it down...then threw himself backwards, turning himself over in midair as well. It seemed impossible that someone that size could move like that, but she'd seen it before, the wire rapidly unspooling with a 'whir' as he turned. Seeing what he planned, she quickly holstered her weapon and dagger both, the whirring from her wrist growing louder and more shrill. In a flash she'd drawn her two-handed blunderbuss from her back, extending the barrel and taking a knee all in one smooth motion.

Zaius landed, and at that moment two things happened in tandem. Sophia drew a bead on his upper body where he was crouched, and the wire finished unspooling from her gauntlet with a soft 'click'. A heartbeat passed, and then Sophia gently squeezed the trigger, while Zaius swept his leg backwards, the limb now wrapped in the wire several times over around his his armored thigh. The wire snapped loose from Sophia's gauntlet, while the blast from the blunderbuss went wide as it yanked on her arm, the errant shot flying past the Keeper, narrowly missing...and blowing a good-sized hole out of the corner of Scorpion Crossing's wooden palisade instead.

Sophia scoffed and flexed her arm, trying to will away the jolt of pain that had thrown off her shot. In almost the same motion, she reached into a pouch and she tossed a handful of shimmering dust into the air between them. With one hand, she fired another round haphazardly from her blunderbuss, igniting the dust into a sudden shower of sparks and embers and she dives backward to win more ground.

The Keeper narrowed his eyes, grimacing at the bright flash of light and flickering flames. Yet a moment later, Sophia was greeted by the sight of Zaius emerging from the flames, lunging through the air, arms wide and clawed fingers splayed. His eyes are wide with fury...but then parts of the wire around his leg, primed and ready to detonated, popped and explode, shattering the metal around his leg. The Keeper roared in surprise, pain, and fury as metal dug into both legs; fortunately the wire was thin, and not all of it exploded, or else the damage might have been crippling. As it was, his lunging dive, while still one target, lost its main threat as his clawed hands reached towards his ravaged thigh.

The smoldering hunk of steel and muscle crashed into Sophia's frame just as she recovered from her dive backwards. She lost her grip on the blunderbuss and pulled her knife once more, as she scrambled away from him while cutting at his exposed bits.

He rolled over her, her knife flashing at his frame, adding more narrow slashes to him but not finding purchase to dig in, not with them going in opposite directions. That did give her more space, though, space to pull her hand mortar again...space the wounded Keeper was not interested in letting her keep. Even with one leg all but pouring blood in rivulets down into his armored boot, he didn't seem to feel any of his injuries. So many beasts only became more dangerous when wounded, after all...monsters even moreso. So once again the moment Sophia thought she had room to breath, he was on her, snarling golden-eyed rage and hunger, clawed gauntlets slashing and punching at part of her she didn't defend range, any part of her they could reach.

And there was little she could do as the Keeper kept pulling her back in as she tried to scramble away. She pulled her arms in to take protect her torso and face, and the carbontwine underlayer was holding up...for now. Shreds of thread leapt off her arms, soon stained red as she began to bleed, and then a punch found its way around her guard and crashed into her side, just under her shoulder. Her arm trembled, her knife clattering to the ground, and the Garlean screeched in pain through her bared teeth. Disarmed now, unwilling to expose herself to more brutal attacks by going for another weapon, she rolled her body trying to find a rhythm to his strikes. Finding a brief gap she made her move, knocking one of his meaty arms to the side while she jabs at his burning eyes with a balled fist.

Zaius took the blow square between the eyes, too focused on tearing Sophia apart to parry the strike, his head jerking back from the blow. She followed it up with another elbow strike from the same arm, but underneath him she can't turn enough to bring her hips, her torso, her full technique to bear. His lip split neatly all the same, blood staining his teeth, only for him to roar at her and drive a clenched fist towards her sternum, not bothering to tear through the underarmor this time; just go for the bone and meat behind it.

As she had with his side kick earlier, Sophia pulled an arm out straight across her chest. She can't block the blow, but she'd at least soften the force. Whether it was enough, she couldn't tell in the next moment as she loses her breath from the blow, her arm exploding into pain before briefly going numb.. Again, she jabbed at his face, and when he seemed to absorb that blow as well, she grabbed his collar. Pulling him down slightly, and herself up a great deal, she swung her skull foreward, her forehead colliding with his nose. As he snarled in pain, she threw her right hand back, and another wire fires out from her gauntlet, twin to the first and still intact, to bury itself in the rocks. Even as Zaius reared back to strike again, the mechanism whirred loudly as it began to pull Sophia away!

The Keeper slammed his hands down on her as she was pulled away, his armored claws raking savagely down her form from shoulder to thighs, and she muffled a cry of pain as the carbontwine layers of underarmor, tattered and shorn, barely protected her from being torn to pieces. Once again, she'd gained space. Her wire pulled her straight into boulders-- hidden or not, she felt that headbutt in her third eye and her vision was off as a result. She slapped a hand on the gauntlet to release the wire and grabbed her hand mortar, pointing it Zaius' way should he pursue, hands shaking from pain and blood loss.

By now though both of them were beginning to feel the effects of the brutal duel, Zaius dragging himself up on his one good leg and growling low in his throat at Sophia where she lay between the boulders. He pounced forward. He was slower, but her aim was off. She shot ahead of him, the bullet passing through the air just over his good shoulder, and he landed right on top of her, his clawed fingers closing around her gorget-protected throat…

And she pressed her hand mortar to his bare chest, just below his sternum, making him freeze. It slid up quickly, along his throat and then notched under her chin. Sophia grit her teeth, pushing at his jaw, and tilting his head up slightly as her finger curled around the trigger. The Keeper's golden eyes blazed with souless, primal rage at one more, fatal obstacle to him. Sophia could feel his heartbeat through the barrel of the gun, and he could feel hers beat against his claws. As if on cue, a rush of footsteps interrupt their reverie of violence. Both of them could hear the telltale twang of bowstrings and wood stretching.

"Unhand the woman! Now!" The guards of Scorpion Crossing had clearly had enough of the violence and gunplay, and now stood prepared to act on that decision. But they had come across a massively built miqo'te looming over a wounded hyur...and drawn their own conclusion. Zaius let his eyes flick up towards the guards, breaking the locked gaze he'd shared with Sophia, and growled. That clearly wasn't the result the guards had asked for, and one of them loosed an arrow...but the Keeper had been dodging bullets all afternoon. He skirted to the left, his clawed hands releasing Sophia's throat...but the other guards quickly readied their arrows to loose at the Keeper as well.

With a trio of sounds like lightning, the guards fell one by one. Zaius eyes snapped back to the Garlean agent, to find Sophia with her weapon pointed towards the three fallen Eorzeans. Before he could act on this rapid shift in situation, she was back on her feet. Sophia looked towards Zaius with the same expression she'd had when they'd been ready to slay one another a few seconds ago. Only, moments later it softens as her usual wit returns. "Another stalemate, then."

Zaius looked at Sophia, and growled. Briefly, he seemed about to renew their battle...but then closed his eyes. As she'd seen him do in the past, he spent his rage on himself; the mortal wounds on his legs slowing their bleeding, the split lip healing neatly as he drew on his chakra. "...no fear in your gaze this time," he rumbled, straightening back to his full height.

"It doesn't help," she replies simply, stowing her weapon again, but keeping a ready footing.

"...unfortunate. It looked good on you. I'm used to defiance,. But I've never fought someone that could go for that long and still looked at me like you did."

"I wasn't expecting it then," she said after a moment. "Now, I know."

Zaius Rhal'seer glances to the Crossing. "That won't be the end of them. There's always more. " His gaze returned to the Garlean infiltrator, and the grinned savagely at her. "Another draw."

"Don't go dying until we meet again, Zaius." She intoned, beginning to rise up in a haze of aether as she teleported away to an unknown destination. The Keeper nodded, his grin widening.

"Same to you, Sophia."

As she disappeared, the sound of more mobilization from the Scorpion Crossing began to ring out, and Zaius decided to depart as well, on foot, however. While already regretting his decision as the pain in his badly injured leg flared up, he saw something glinting from between two boulders. Quickly making for it and picking it up, he held up his prize; Sophia's blunderbuss, knocked loose from her hands during their violent fight. Deciding this would be far more interesting to recover than the remains of his armored plates used in target practice, he keyed into the aetheryte network to begin teleporting away as well.

This was going to be an interesting letter he got to write...

(Rewritten and edited in collaboration with @sophiagrave-ffxiv compiled from in-game RP. Thanks for reading!)

#zaiusic #ouch #rplog

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zaiusrhalseer · 10 years

Text

A History of Violence - Part 8

"So, ever tried to break out of here?"

André didn't answer, not aloud at least, and instead shot Zaius a withering glare, a good mix of 'don't ask stupid questions' and 'really?' all rolled up into one glance. The elezen was leading Zaius through the underground building that they called home. They, and many more, if the assembly they'd left behind in the dining hall was any indication. The scale of the place was surprising, but as they rounded a corner and began to descend deeper, Zaius realized that it went down, not out as he'd thought before. That made sense, given how many people lived in one area. Still, the sheer amount of gil that something like this must have cost...he shook his head. They'd already walked through what looked like barracks, several rooms with multiple beds, some stacked on top of each other, very similar to the first pent Zaius had found himself in. As they descended the stone steps, familiar sounds reached the Keeper.

Fighting.

"Finally," he murmured, again earning another glare from André. Zaius returned it this time, narrowing his golden eyes at the elezen. "Anytime, André. Just say when."

"I was told to show you around, not cave in your skull," the other man replied coldly.

"By Valentine, right? Your boss?" Zaius pressed, trying to needle the other. He really wanted elezen to start something. Eating hadn't helped settle his stomach, hardly surprising given the type hits he'd taken, and while he wasn't one hundred percent, he was still confident he could break bones. Stewart had mentioned that André was a demon when it came to wielding weapons, but unarmed, he wasn't that dangerous. As they rounded a corner, the sounds of combat loud, Zaius wondered to himself exactly what 'that dangerous' consisted of in an underground prison full of trained fighters and killers. He grinned at the sight before him, André mockingly gesturing towards the open room.

A series of columns were evenly spaced, supporting the ceiling above. Between them were scattered familiar sights to the Keeper; weights, ropes, racks of wooden weapons, padded straw mats of varying thickness, a few raised pits full of sand ranging from barely enough to cover the stone floor to ankle deep, judging by the size of the stone barrier around them. A few of them were already in use, despite the food being served upstairs, a fact that André didn't seem to appreciate; the elezen striding with purpose towards a hyur that was using a wooden longsword and striking at a practice dummy.

"We've talked about this, Farrel. Food's upstairs," he said. The hyur stopped and turned to face André, frowning.

"You can't be serious. I thought you were joking when you said that there wasn't to be any practice while meals were served," the hyur replied. Zaius kept his peace, noting that while the hyur wasn't being overtly threatening, the wooden sword wasn't resting point down, either. This could be interesting.

"Valentine doesn't joke about this sort of thing. It's been three months. You should know that by now." The elezen kept his hands by his sides, meeting Farrel's gaze evenly. "I could make all kinds of threats, but that's not my strongest talent. Come upstairs, eat with everyone else."

"I'm not hungry," Farrel replied flatly. "Besides, who cares if I'm down here practising? I'm not hurting anyone. Who cares if I break one little rule?"

"Funny," André said, his tone turning icy, "but I'd think after your petty theft ended you up down here you'd take even little rules more seriously. Put. Down. The. Sword." Farrel didn't answer out loud, instead raising the practice sword and pointing the blunted point at the elezen. Rather than seem concerned, André glanced at Zaius for a moment. "I was hoping I'd get the opportunity…" He murmured...and then darted forward towards Farrel. The hyur's sword crossed in front of him, but being a practice blade, André was able to easily catch the weapon in his left hand. His right came down like a hammer, striking Farrel's wrist where he held the weapon, the hyur shouting in pain and surprise, his grip loosening. Quickly squeezing the bruised hand, André twisted it backwards, the blunted wood arcing and smacking Farrel in the face; humiliating, but not that harmful beyond what would probably be a solid bruise. The sudden turn in his fortunes however only drove Farrel on to hit back, kicking up at André and catching him in one of his thighs. The elezen grimaced but didn't lose his grip on Farrel's wrist, both hands twisting roughly. With a cry of pain, Farrel lost hold of his practice sword.

Zaius raised an eyebrow as André caught the weapon on top of his foot, and flipped it upwards, pushing Farrel back as he went. The sword spun awkwardly, but the elezen caught it all the same, and while it may have been wooden, when Farrel found the point of it nudging his neck firmly, he froze. "Upstairs, if you would be so kind," André said, his voice considerably softer than it had been initially. Cheeks heated with embarrassment and anger, Farrel shot a withering glare at the elezen before moving past him. Attempting to save face, perhaps, he went to shoulder his way past Zaius...only for the miqo'te to lean into it, staggering Farrel. The hyur glared at him, then went upstairs, taking them two at a time. André looked at the wooden sword he'd taken from the other man, then put it back in its place on the weapons rack.

"Nice trick," Zaius commented. "Can you take anyone apart like that?" He inquired. André's lip curled in response to the question.

"Of course not. No one technique is perfect." The elezen glanced around the room at the various weapons, training implements and the like. "No one is unbeatable." Zaius smirked at the other's words.

"I've heard that before."

"You don't agree?"

"Oh, no, I agree entirely," Zaius said with a shake of his head. "No one is unbeatable. Anyone that thinks that is asking to be humbled." He would have to rethink his opinion of the elezen. Then again, it's not like he could have grabbed a real sword blade out of the air like that. Right?

"So glad we've found some common ground," André said dryly. "Now that Farrel is dealt with, I'll finish showing you around." The rest of the tour was fairly simple, as all that was left was the training room itself. Zaius couldn't help but be grudgingly impressed. From what he remembered of his own training as a child, this underground set of rooms was at least its match, and certainly far superior to anything that he'd had access to since arriving in Ul'dah as a refugee. What surprised him though was the collection of actual weapons; swords, spears, shields, all made of real metal. The swords were unpolished, with a few marks here and there, and the shields had clearly seen a good bit of use, but still. He had to ask.

"This seems kind of daring, leaving out real weapons," Zaius commented, walking over to the rack and the glinting steel that had drawn his attention. There weren't many, two of each weapon as far as he could tell, and reaching up to run a finger along one of the swords he noticed the edges of all the weapons had been blunted as well. Still. "Could have a rebellion on your hands very quickly."

"If you mean rising up against the guards out front? Sure," André said. "Right up until they decide to choke us all to death with these damned collars." The elezen tapped his own soft leather accessory. "We would get a few of them, but not all of them, not fast enough."

"You make it sound like you actually did try to escape."

"No, but the last Alpha down here, before Valentine? He was all full of big ideas, big ideals." As André spoke he gestured back towards the stairs; apparently he was done with the tour. "Thought we could band together and escape…" He frowned, glancing off at nothingness for a moment as he recalled what had happened. "I wonder what he was thinking when he was choking and writhing on the floor."

"Probably something along the lines of 'I can't breath'," Zaius replied, heading back towards the stairs. "So the collars don't stop if the person with those enchanted gems of whatever dies?"

"No," André followed the miqo'te up. "At least not that I've seen. There's some fighters among the guards, a few ex-Brass, a few adventurers just on board as long as the gil keeps coming. But no one up there fights and trains like we do down here." Zaius nodded, thinking over all that he'd learned. He'd been promised all the fighting he could ever want, which was well and good. But there was that nagging problem of 'freedom'. Not to mention the fact that while picking a fight with Valentine, and André, had certainly become the talk of the fighters in the pit, it could easily swing the other way depending on how the tale was repeated. The Keeper growled to himself at the memory of being so handily defeated. The lingering aches in his lower body were ready reminders. He'd been arrogant to assume that he'd be able to take on everyone he walked across in this organization as easily as he'd taken on Furious Tusk. To his building anger, Tusk had actually put up more of a fight against him, than Zaius had put up to Valentine. His fists clenched tightly at the thought.

"Something on your mind?" André asked from behind him. Zaius just growled again, the elezen's answering chuckle doing nothing at all for his mood. "Well then. Sorry I asked." Zaius knew all too well that there was no apology meant, and could already picture the other man's smirk. Instead of focusing on it he imagined how André would look on the ground, after he'd pounded his skull into the unyielding stone below…

Estrild and Stewart had finished up the day's meal, and were simply chatting by the time Zaius sat down with them again. Judging by the way their conversation came to an abrupt halt, the Moonkeeper knew that he wasn't doing a very good job of hiding his bristling anger. Fine. He didn't really care one way or the other. Let them wonder. Let them guess. Stewart turned on the bench to face him more fully, brow furrowing slightly.

"Everything...okay?" He asked cautiously.

"<b>Fine</b>."

"Sure sound fine," Stewart muttered, suddenly finding the table he was seated at very, very interesting. Estrild pursed her lips as she looked at Zaius, but didn't add anything. The miqo'te glared, but she didn't look away. At least, not immediately. Rather she stood up, nodded at Stewart, and then left, walking towards the main hallway. Zaius half-turned on the bench to watch her go.

"So, are you two together?" He asked Stewart. The hyur sighed.

"Yes? Sort of? It-" He stopped abruptly, and shook his head, giving Zaius an incredulous look. "Why would I tell you? You're obviously not hear to make friends."

"I don't think anyone's here to make friends," Zaius replied wryly, facing Stewart once again. He paused for a moment before continuing though, considering the other's words. "Thanks," he said at last. "For the information earlier. It could come in handy." Stewart was silent as well as he seemed to think over the apparent olive branch offered to him.

"You're welcome," he sighed out. "Just. Try not to stir anything up, alright? If you make trouble for any of us, it makes trouble for all of us. It…" Stewart trailed off, looking past Zaius towards the hallway. Zaius turned and followed his gaze. Valentine was standing there, right in the middle, hands on her hips, legs slightly spread. Zaius felt his jaw clench and his hands tighten up into fists. She was asking for a fight. Challenging everyone in the room. It said a lot, and more given that it seemed she'd just gotten back from a match; a white bandage ran diagonally across the right side of her face, hiding one eye, and there were a few other signs of injury as well. A cut that on her left thigh had been magically repaired, a rare occurrence in this day and age. The wound ran around from near the top of her thigh down around to the back of her leg, how she'd gotten that kind of injury Zaius couldn't begin to guess. Even though it appeared healed, the Keeper noted she was still favoring the leg. Interesting. She still wore what passed for armor; a leather harness top with small metal shoulder guards, padded Zaius guessed, and a leather subligar. They were decorated with some kind of emblem, one that he hadn't seen before. The room had fallen silent much like Stewart had, and it took a moment for everyone to realize that she was looking at one person in particular.

Farrel had turned a rather pale shade, before grimacing, and getting to his feet. The few others seated at his table stood up and backed off, more fighters clearing a path between he and Valentine.

"We talked. You didn't listen," she said plainly, glaring with her one good eye at him. "Anything to say for yourself?" Farrel held her gaze, then shook his head. "Downstairs or right here, right now?" Valentine continued, her tone turning harsh. As she spoke, André and the monster of a roegadyn, Zaenmhas, moved to flank her, standing slightly behind as well. A classic demonstration of the authority she possessed; the two toughest occupants of the pit falling in line. Zaius smirked. They'd done this before, obviously. Unity, a strong front against superior numbers.

"Right here right now is fine by me," Farrel answered grimly. Zaius looked between the two, Farrel and Valentine. It looked like he was going to get the chance to watch Valentine work earlier than he'd thought.

Good.

#zaiusrhalseer #zaiusic #Zaius Rhal'seer #ffxiv #story #ahistoryofviolence

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