Assassins of the ages represent!weiss_tankJuly 9 2010, 06:12:21 UTC
[Ken had had enough of this bull shit. Enough of sitting around, and enough of not doing anything about it, so when he stumbled on this strange fellow lobbing Molotov cocktails at the leaders house, he was all for it. Sure this wasn't strictly MG approved and he wasn't used to moving with out a Perisa's orders, but he was fucking fed up. He grabs one and hucks it. Screw the consequences.]
Solidarity, brother!rogue_crowJuly 9 2010, 06:18:56 UTC
[Zevran glances sidelong at Ken - he vaguely recalls the face from that day at the rubble of the pharmacy, but not much else - with some surprise, though he grins when the other man speaks.] Racial disadvantage, my friend - your arms are longer!
Oh quit making excuses and throw! [Ken grinned at him, the fire light making the shadows look wrong on his face. He wasn't fond of fire, but explosions were something he was oddly good at. As long as he didn't have to get to close he was ok.]
We are so going to get it for this but I don't fuckin' care!
KILLERS REPRESENT~rogue_crowJuly 9 2010, 06:36:46 UTC
[Zevran grins right back. He hasn't had this much fun on a suicide mission since - well, the whole Blight thing. It almost makes him feel like he's back home.] Precision is key! Ten dollars says I can take out the middle pane on the top window before your mighty human arm can so much as hit the shutters!
[Ah--there's a bottle pitched, soaring far above Zevran's head into a spot beside his last throw. Turning around would find a famished and overly tired Hughes leaning against a tree. He was totally drinking some of that, but he's hardly even close to buzzed. He's got a few extra bruises and cuts, but... hey, he's not dead.]
I told you I'd be here if it was a good plan, right?
[He was actually working with the others on bombing the place, but after all was said and done with his part he made a quick stop here to see how things went.]
I apologize for losing my patience. I hope it didn't mess up any of your own details.
[Yeah, Hughes' showing up is even more of a surprise. Zevran had no idea what was in store for the man but he didn't expect it to be short-lived enough for him to show up tonight.] Hughes, my friend! I had not expected to see you here...and looking so - not well, but certainly better than I had expected...
[Zevran chuckles. He's actually glad for the company, not to mention seeing Hughes alive and no more injured than before.] Clearly you thought it was a good idea, since you appropriated it. [He's clearly teasing~] You made it a bit harder to gather support, perhaps - not to mention vodka - but how can I begrudge you? Regardless of your reasons, you carried out my plan for me at your own expense, and I could have dodged any risk to myself whatsoever, had I wished. [He looks back at the house. Depressingly, it seems to be weathering the firestorm extremely well.] But I still wished to see if preparation could do what raw anger could not.
[And he looks at the building with Zevran, looking casual as the two are outlined black forms in the firelight. He was just here the other night, in the same position, though in a more frantic state.]
Raw anger, preparation... to be honest with you, I don't even know which I should follow anymore. But... tonight. Tonight was good.
I think... as long as we keep struggling. As long as there are people who don't think at all coupled with those who can use their minds over their innermost emotions, we may very well win someday.
[Zevran laughs.] I am fairly certain I would have been in your place, under other circumstances, so do not label me too quickly as a thinker. After all, what sort of idiot would try the same thing you did the very next night, even after seeing it was a pointless tactic?
[Zevran settles himself on the grass beside his nearly empty crate. The last few bottles weren't prepared as cocktails - the explosions came before he'd quite finished, and he assumed that once things started burning from the first cocktails, any further thrown bottles would simply turn to firebombs on impact. He takes one of the bottles, opens it, and takes a swig - and grimaces; he's used to only the finest liquors - before offering the bottle to Hughes.] Tonight is good. Enjoy it while it lasts, and to hell with tomorrow.
[Zevran's actions have caught Ema's attention, and she goes over to get a better look. She looks like hell from the hangover that still lingers and the disorientation that has hung around after her re-education. He's... doing the exact same thing they did last night, but with purpose. This isn't a man who's venting his rage; this is a man with a plan.]
They droned the lot of us for doing this last night, you know. [It's more for his information than it is a warning.]
Ah, Ema! Is a droning all I am risking, here? I feel almost insulted. [He puts his hands on his hips, tilting his head to look up at the house.] They do not take us seriously at all.
No, but they don't hesitate putting people to death for the horrific crime of not being able to complete an impossible job. Lovely town we live in, isn't it, comrade?
[She looks past him at the house itself. There are many flames.]
You're doing a much better job of it than we did, far as I can remember.
[Zevran laughs and admires the bottle's arc. Scout wasn't lying; he's got a good arm.] I figured it might as well be put to good use. [He wrinkles his nose.] It was cheap vodka, anyway; nothing much wasted.
[Zevran studies the man, but isn't particularly moved by any perceived kindliness of his features or his non-combative approach. He was, after all, an assassin, and has killed kindlier old gentlemen than this.] A weather experiment. [He smiles, mirthlessly.] As you can feel, it is warming up already.
[He has a couple kitchen knives tucked away on his person, though he makes no move for them yet. They are ridiculous weapons and he knows it - and he doubts it would make any difference even if they were good blades - but he felt the need to have something, regardless.
It's okay, I understand!rogue_crowJuly 12 2010, 04:48:14 UTC
I wonder if you truly care what the reasons are...? But, since you ask, you have killed and maimed many men and women. Even if you believe you did it for good reasons - even if you were right - surely you must have known there would be many who would not approve.
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You throw like a little kid!
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We are so going to get it for this but I don't fuckin' care!
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I told you I'd be here if it was a good plan, right?
[He was actually working with the others on bombing the place, but after all was said and done with his part he made a quick stop here to see how things went.]
I apologize for losing my patience. I hope it didn't mess up any of your own details.
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[Zevran chuckles. He's actually glad for the company, not to mention seeing Hughes alive and no more injured than before.] Clearly you thought it was a good idea, since you appropriated it. [He's clearly teasing~] You made it a bit harder to gather support, perhaps - not to mention vodka - but how can I begrudge you? Regardless of your reasons, you carried out my plan for me at your own expense, and I could have dodged any risk to myself whatsoever, had I wished. [He looks back at the house. Depressingly, it seems to be weathering the firestorm extremely well.] But I still wished to see if preparation could do what raw anger could not.
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I'm shocked I'm here, too.
[And he looks at the building with Zevran, looking casual as the two are outlined black forms in the firelight. He was just here the other night, in the same position, though in a more frantic state.]
Raw anger, preparation... to be honest with you, I don't even know which I should follow anymore. But... tonight. Tonight was good.
I think... as long as we keep struggling. As long as there are people who don't think at all coupled with those who can use their minds over their innermost emotions, we may very well win someday.
At least, that's what I'd like to think.
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[Zevran settles himself on the grass beside his nearly empty crate. The last few bottles weren't prepared as cocktails - the explosions came before he'd quite finished, and he assumed that once things started burning from the first cocktails, any further thrown bottles would simply turn to firebombs on impact. He takes one of the bottles, opens it, and takes a swig - and grimaces; he's used to only the finest liquors - before offering the bottle to Hughes.] Tonight is good. Enjoy it while it lasts, and to hell with tomorrow.
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They droned the lot of us for doing this last night, you know. [It's more for his information than it is a warning.]
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[She looks past him at the house itself. There are many flames.]
You're doing a much better job of it than we did, far as I can remember.
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Superficially, yes. There is a great deal of fire... [He frowns.] But it seems to be doing very little actual damage.
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This guy!]
Hey, pally! Got any extras? I got a pretty good throwin' arm!
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[Meanwhile, he'll grab one of the remaining ones, light it up and huck it too. Damn that felt good.]
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Eventually, the door opens just a crack, and coughing, a kindly-looking man emerges from the flames, waving a hand in front of his face.]
Comrades, comrades! What is the meaning of this?
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[He has a couple kitchen knives tucked away on his person, though he makes no move for them yet. They are ridiculous weapons and he knows it - and he doubts it would make any difference even if they were good blades - but he felt the need to have something, regardless.
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