[ CLOSED ] So I may have tried to kill you that one time

[ombranera]

WHO: Character(s)
WHAT: Merrick and Zevran have a talk
WHEN: Firstfall 2
WHERE: The stables
NOTES: May be some swearing.

Apparently they were to talk. Or rather Merrick wished to talk and Zevran, well. If there were to be words, there would be words. If there were to be blows? There would be blows. If there were to be blades? Merrick would likely find himself short a hand in short order but something made him suspect that, perhaps, it was words the Dalish wished to have rather than anything else. Not that it kept him from keeping his blades upon him as he worked and waited, brewing another round of poisons for his personal use.

Comments

[dalishious]

While Zevran is talking, right in the middle of a sentence, a knife is thrown his way. It snaps through the air toward him, cutting one of his words in half.

Zevran Approves + 5

[ombranera]

Oh good! He doesn't have to have the 'honorable vs dishonorable = alive vs dead' talk with Merrick. That cut down on a lot of footwork he thought he might have to do.

Still they could probably work on the telegraphing of said throws- it's swift and fairly dead on but Zevran has been dodging knives more or less longer than Merrick has been walking. He dips forward as though to peer more intently at the mechanism on the table, knife embedding in the wood just above him "Not bad. Lead a little less with your shoulder, I saw that coming."

[dalishious]

Merrick frowns a bit and looks down at his arm, turning it slightly.

"How should I do it then? Show me."

[ombranera]

"To lead less with your shoulder?" He blinks and looks up from where he'd been working. "Mm. I suppose I could. Also: Never throw one knife when you can throw two. Or three. After the first you've already destroyed the element of surprise."

He pulls the knife from the wood behind him and holds it by the point, testing the balance. "At this distance you don't need as much force as you would with another ten feet. Humans and elves are fragile. It takes roughly a pound of pressure to break the skin and little more than that to cut a prominent artery."

[dalishious]

He files the information away, and looks at Zevran coolly.

"So how should I move my arm?"

[ombranera]

"Hold very still and watch my arm." Were Merrick a Crow he would have thrown without warning but- they are not Crows. As far as anyone watching would tell Zevran looks as though he were relaxed, knife loos in his fingers as his hand hangs at his side.

Abruptly his hand snaps out, sending the knife end over end a good two inches to the right of Merrick. Less with the shoulder, more with the elbow and wrist. Which. Decisive. "Like that."

[dalishious]

Merrick studies every movement carefully, committing each of them to memory. Once he does, he backs up and reaches behind him to pluck the knife from the wall. He imitates Zevran's stance and when he throws the knife into the opposite wall again, it's closer to what Zevran had done than before.

Doing it this way also lessens the force behind his throws, he realizes.

[ombranera]

"A little less- but that is the gist of it. When you follow through, now-" Somehow another knife is in his hands and again, the first throw is the same snap of movement, quick and hard to notice unless one knows it's coming. The second and third knives? With the shoulder as Merrick had the first time. "Thusly. If they dodge the first they will not expect more- and even if they do? They will not be able to watch you to avoid them."

[dalishious]

"But if they do dodge it, they'll know how I'll attack next if I do it the same way," he replies. "Isn't it better to attack differently each time?"

As he speaks he moves to retrieve his knife from the opposite wall again. He moves very casually, acting as though he is still very absorbed in the conversation, and then he spins on his heels and aims s slash at Zevran with his dagger.

[ombranera]

"Depends on who it is you are trying to kill. This is why a little background research never hurts." Merrik's dagger finds yet another dagger held casually in Zevran's hand- crossguards locked. "There is merit in it to be true, but that is also why, normally, you should coat your blades with poison. Even if you do not land a killing blow a scratch can see them dead soon enough."

[dalishious]

"I've done that. Beleth makes better poisons than anyone--" Another slash from the opposite side. "And there isn't always time to research."

[ombranera]

"Mmm, I beg to differ." Another block, another set of locked hilts. Now what? "Which is where focus and observation come into play. It is an ongoing lesson, that. Observing your target and picking out what marks them for who they are, what they fall for, and how it is they fight."

[dalishious]

Now, Merrick flies one knee upward between Zevran's legs and does what Zevran did to him--only way, way harder.

Zevran Approves + 5

[ombranera]

Thoroughly pragmatic! Excellent. Zevran attempts to disengage but, alas, the hilts are locked too tight to get enough room and he takes that knee right to the family jewels with a grunt.

[dalishious]

Merrick takes advantage of Zevran's current pain, diving in immediately for a headbutt. He's taller than Zevran, and stronger, so the blow is forceful enough to send the other elf reeling.

He then uses that same force to push Zevran up against the wall.

[ombranera]

Built for speed, flexibility, and precision Zevran has never been a great brawler. That was for Alistair and Taliesin before him. The blow is a bit predictable but, winded, he cannot avoid it and stumbles back. Right into the wall, as Merrick intended. This, though, he can twist to his advantage.

Still dazed but fighting through it (no crow worth their salt was left wounded and winded and useless after a racking and a headbutt, oh no) he hooks his leg around Merrik's and twists, attempting to shove them both about and get Merrick against the wall in his stead.

[dalishious]

The world reels and Merrick finds himself trapped against the wall. He growls, a low rumble in his throat sounding between his tightly clenched teeth. He still presses back hard against Zevran's blades, however, refusing to relent.

[ombranera]

"Not bad." Something to consider, Merrick's bulk and height. The skills that serve Zevran so well will not do the same for his student- but perhaps something else is in order. Zevran twists his blades, attempting to turn them away from himself and Merrick. If he truly wanted the elf dead it'd be simpler- but teaching? That is more difficult.

[dalishious]

Though it definitely helps to be a Tall Elf (he and Gavin boast 5 foot 7 inches in height) against members of his own race, Merrick is still a very small person in comparison to anyone else. Still, he has that advantage over Zevran right now--at least, he did before he found himself pinned. He can't exploit it anymore.

He frees his own daggers as well, though his intentions are far more deadly. Zevran asked Merrick to kill him-- Until the other elf rescinds that challenge, Merrick is going to follow through.

[ombranera]

"I almost think you are not trying as hard as you are able." The night before Merrick had been wild and ruthless in his attacks- not that he is not now but the rage is either absent or tempered. Perhaps teaching him to call upon it would make for better lessons?

Still. There is lethal intent enough in Merrick's knives. More than enough for Zevran to push himself away for a little distance, a little perspective. Merrick has him beat on reach, but he may have the advantage on speed.

[dalishious]

The anger spikes through Merrick easily. He swings his dagger up, intending to sink it into Zevran's throat.

[ombranera]

And there it is. When you're ready for an attack and have a fair idea of what it might be it's easier to avoid- Merrick goes for the throat and Zevran darts back, knives- vanishing into his sleeves. "I think I have seen enough, you may stop."

Whether or not he does, however, remains to be seen.

[dalishious]

Merrick stops. His pupils are blown and he's trembling, but he stops. He has no real desire to kill Zevran at all, and he isn't stupid-- Killing someone who helped stop the Blight, someone famous throughout Thedas? Merrick's head would be on the chopping block in a second.

And honestly, when Zevran insisted he try to kill him, he'd felt frightened.

His blades are away quickly, and he remains against the wall, gathering himself.

[ombranera]

Some control at last. Marvelous. Such a start stop is difficult to maintain, difficult to hold to especially after being goaded. Apprentice Crows did not manage it quite so easily. "Breathe. You did well. I have some of your measure, enough to begin making recommendations."

Approaching now with an open posture and no knives, he reaches out to rest a hand on Merrick's shoulder, smile warm rather than vicious. "You show a good deal of promise- the temper may be the death of you if we do not, ha, temper it as well. But I think we may be able to manage."

[dalishious]

He'd asked for this. He'd wanted it--and he still does, more than he's ever wanted something in his life. He knows it won't be easy--fuck, it won't even be difficult, he's in for the roughest training in his life. He knows that. Welcomes it, even. And he also basks in the praise Zevran gives him, and is proud of himself for stopping his anger in its tracks before it could overtake him, even if there's blood in his mouth from biting so hard on his tongue. He did well. He knows all of this.

But just for a second, he allows himself to lean forward just a little, fingers curling around Zevran's shirt as his head falls forward into the other elf's shoulder.

[ombranera]

"You did well." he says again, hands coming up to rest against his back. IT is no easy thing to take that rage and fight it down- more difficult still if you are taught late in life. But he had done it. Taken the prod, taken action, come at him with true lethal intent-

And bitten it all back. Zevran is more than impressed- he is genuinely proud.

It isn't a sex thing- it isn't a lesson. It's a reward, the way his hand rests against the nape of Merrick's neck, the way he turns his head to press his lips against his temple. Something light and harmless. Easy. Such gestures were rewards for a lesson well learned in the Crows- some of it still isn't shaken off so easily. "You did well."

[dalishious]

Shortly after his father's suicide, Merrick had started exhibiting violent behavior towards other children. The older members of clan Ashara didn't know what had instigated these fights, and expressed great concern to the Keeper. One day she pulled him aside, knelt down to his level and put her hands on his shoulders.

"Are you angry, Merrick?"
"Yes."
"Do you want to hurt me right now?"
"No."
"And why is that?"
"Because you don't deserve it."

After his moment of vulnerability Merrick takes a step back, still looking down at the ground. Adrenaline was still pulsing through him; even if he'd held it back, that doesn't mean it's going away. He takes deep breaths, his body still trembling slightly.

"May I go?"

[ombranera]

"Do you need to burn it off?" The anger. The tension. However he chooses to do so was his to mind, but Zevran does hope it isn't in violence. "Go ahead. And Merrick? The next time you come at me, only use one hand, mm?"

Challenges helped those that need focus. Something such as this should be easy enough for Merrick to wrap his mind around through the haze provided by anger.