A Silent Force ((Miriel :3))

[*ƒiƒi*]

BLOODHAWK

Honky-tonk music tingled gently in the background, the shouts of rowdy drunkards overpowering the scenery of the quaint tavern. A lone man sat at the table farthest in the corner, the shadows of the sunlight shrouding his face in darkness. He sat hunched over with a small mug grasped tightly in his hand, taking occasional sips but never uttering a word. After a few moments had passed, the man settled uncomfortably in his seat and glanced around from beneath his rimmed gentleman's hat, just watching. He cleared his throat deeply and traced the rings left from the wet glass on the table with his finger in silent wait.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he shivered, unable to shake the feeling that something--or someone, was here. He bit down on his bottom lip and drummed on the table in anticipation, just waiting.

How much longer will things be this way? Jayden thought with a quiet sigh. Always watching. Always waiting. Never knowing or acting. What more could he do? There was no way of finding out what the flock was up against. So he sat. Just watching, like a lion searching out its prey: a silent force amongst the tall grass.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Jayden shot up and stared the man now peering over him straight in the eyes.

"I was told to bring this to you by the gentleman sitting at the ba-" he began, but stopped as soon as he saw the man was no longer there. The stool that had been occupied just a moment earlier was completely deserted; no tip, no empty mug. With an indifferent shrug, he handed Jayden a slip of parchment and a full mug of a dark liquid that appeared to be ale. He thanked the man with a curt nod, and within a moment was alone once again within the shadows.

Fiddling with the letter between his fingers, he held his breath and carefully pried it open. As soon as he did, he flung it onto the table with disgust, for it was dripping wet.

Wet with blood.

His eyes widened as he folded the sleeves of his trenchcoat over his hands and warily reached out once again for the morbid note, just barely touching it to flip it open, only to find two words printed in the most painstaking of handwritten script:

I win.[/size]

Cursing, he slammed the note back down onto the table and tossed the mug onto the floor, making the glass shatter all over the tile, the contents splattering across the table. In horror, Jayden reached down and touched the liquid, rubbing it between his fingers. It left a stain on his skin.

A red stain.

He stood up and charged over to the man who had given him the message, grabbing him by his collar and yanking him toward his own face until their noses were nearly touching.

"Who gave you this!?" he ordered, making the room go dead silent. The man didn't respond, awestruck by the sudden outburst.

"WHO!?" he shouted again, and the man held his hands up defensively.

"H-he didn't give me his name! He just said it was urgent... I swear on my father's fortune that's all I know!"

"What color were his eyes?" he asked with less hostility, releasing the man from his hold.

"..Ah, pardon?"

"What color were they!?" he demanded.

Taken aback, the poor messenger took a step out of the path of the crazed man. "I-I don't know... They looked rather light, almost colorless..."

Jayden looked down for a moment. "Silver?" he growled.

The clueless fellow nodded timidly.

He closed his eyes for just a moment, knowing how terribly he had failed. There was the man, the man he had been trying to grab hold of for five years now, sitting right in front of him.

Who was he to go up against such an immense force if he were so blind when it was only just beginning? In a panic he slammed his hand against the inconspicuous copper earring implanted in his ear and began to hiss into it, "Kreoa noft daike!" A language he and his followers had developed years ago, those words were the sign of a risk of safety. Someone had to come down immediately. [/color]

[»Míríel«]

"Kreoa noft daike!"

The dreaded warning broke through Miriel's thoughts like a bullet smashing threw her ears. She had been working on her latest piece, a painting. When the warning came it caused her hand to jerk across the page, leaving an ugly black smear across the painting. "Blast it..." Miriel muttered as she leaped up looking for a rag. What should she do? Save the painting or run to help. Miriel knew better than to even think about it, but she couldn't help but throw a last glance at her destroyed painting before rushing down.

"What happened? What is going on?" Her light blond hair flowed about her face, covering her pointed ears. Her white shirt was of a blowy style with long draping fabric with a black belt , giving her a very artistic appearance. Reaching out with her hand she grabbed her sword and strapped it to her black jeans. Her feet were swift and when she arrived she saw something that didn't give her any assurance of the situation. "Sir?" Miriel faced Bloodhawk's back.

Icy blue eyes bored into his back with a tinge of curiosity. Bloodhawk wasn't one to call a red alert because someone got stepped on his toes. It had to be something serious. Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear she cocked her hips and waited in anticipation.

[*ƒiƒi*]

BLOODHAWK

Jayden whipped around and nearly slammed into Miriel before he realized she was standing right in front of him. His eyes were still wild with rage and his teeth were still tightly gritted. Without a word, his chest heaved and he looked back at the bloody mess that was beginning to look more and more like a murder scene as the liquid trickled across the floor. Failure. Bloody failure.

He pushed the hair back off his sweaty forehead as he shook his head sadly, just taking it all in. Jayden knew he couldn't lose himself in the shock; he had to finish cleaning up the mess that his enemy had left behind. This of all things would not be enough to break him. First thing's first, he thought.

He craned his head downward to speak right next to Miriel's ear. "Whatever you have to do, clear them out. All of them." Casually he took a step back into the darkness as he tried to find any sort of vial that would be enough for a sample of the blood pile. They had to find out who this was--or rather, who this had been. The rest he would leave in the capable hands of Miriel.

Just as he was starting to think this could end much more peacefully than it began, that creeping feeling skittered up his spine once again. His eyes shifted around the room from underneath his brow, intense and completely focused. Something made him feel stiff, tense. Or someone. As unnoticably as he could, Jayden pressed two fingers against his copper earring and muttered, "Someone's here. Be careful. The rest of you, prepare for backup if it comes to that." None of that beast's followers were to be underestimated. There was a reason he kept them clenched so tightly in his bloody hands.

[/color][/blockquote]

[»Míríel«]

Miriel sighed in disappointment. Clear them out...clear them out. Her icy blue eyes scanned the room. She hated this part, hated it. A room full of drunken bumpkins who were looking for a little bit more than just a drink. "Yes sir." Her voice showed a shadow of disappointment. With a toss of her head that made her hair seem to come alive her whole body posture changed. It was time to put on an act she hated.

Taking a stride forward her hips had a little sashay to them. With a flick of her hand those blond strands jumped behind her as a smirk curled on her lips. There was a guy that had been eying her. Might as well start with him. The attention already was to much on Bloodhawk, why not draw it away for a bit. "Excuse me." Her voice sounded as smooth as velvet and she sent the guy next to her a saucy look that could melt ice.

"No problem...marm.." The guy reeled slightly and sloshed some of his drink out. His large burly form turned and nudged the guy beside him. "Would you look at that, she likes me!"

"Poor soul.. I bet his mother had a problem liking him." Miriel shook her head as she flashed another look at another guy. Within a glance she noticed that the guy next to him had a small dagger. Working her way through the crowd, joking along with the guys on the way there it didn't take long before Bloodhawk and the dead carcass on the ground no longer was in the front of their intoxicated minds. Finally she arrived at the man she was heading for. Walking her finger up his chest with her right hand she grasped his beer of the table with her left. Pretending to drink from the glass she gave him a warm glance over the top of the rim. "My my, what a handsome face you have there. Though..." She turned to the guy beside her, "It has nothing to compare to this ones."

The guy grunted. It wasn't every day that he had an exotic looking beauty hanging on him. "THat's right." HE glared at the other man. "Stay away from my girl."

Little did the man know that Miriel's hands had slid the dagger from its sheathWith a quick movement she slid it into the others side. a place where it would really do no harm, especially since he was a walking cream puff, but would cause him some pain. The dagger was pretty short. As soon as she did the guy gave a little yelp.

"Hey..how did my dagger get there?" The daggers owners asked stupidly. This of course caused a huge brawl that tumbled out the doors of the Tavern. It grew large and everyone got a flying punch somewhere. But it cleared out the place pretty well. After all a fight was something worth seeing especially at this magnitude. So the tavern was empty, or seemed it. Though it was getting loud outside.

"Despicable..." Miriel rubbed her hands on her pants and sighed. She hated using that act but it worked. "I need a shower now." Then it felt like someone was watching her, and the feeling wasn't a warm one.

[*ƒiƒi*]

BLOODHAWK

[/size]

Bloodhawk's mind was zooming and his heart was racing and his head was spinning. How was he supposed to fix this? How could he give anyone hope if he had let his enemy get this far ahead of him?

As the drunkards bustled themselves out in a rowdy fashion, the eerie quiet was more unsettling than the loud, senseless shouting that had filled the small space a moment before. He sighed at the muttonheads, arguing over Miriel like she was a full keg. Smirking at her disgusted comment, he placed a firm hand on her shoulder in gratefulness, seeing as things would have ended a bit more chaotically if he had to get involved.

"I suppose it's safe to--" he started, but the screech of a chair against the stone floor made him freeze. Within a second his hand slid into his pocket and gripped the butt of his revolver tightly. Bloodhawk, trying to assume a calm air, shifted his body and slouched his back as he turned in the direction of the sound, only to see a slim pair of legs stretching out from the chair, the rest of the figure hidden by the shadows.

Clearing his throat, Bloodhawk took a small step forward and inclined his head slightly as he tried to get a better glimpse of the lingering woman. He placed his hand over his chest and bowed slightly in courtesy, removing all hostility from his voice. "I beg your pardon, madam, but we would much appreciate it if you were to leave at the moment. It seems we are in need of a good cleaning up," he stated solidly. This would be the first and last time he would ask politely. This was not the place for formalities.

[/color]

Rae

[/size][/color]

Rae almost choked on her vodka, laughing at his pathetic attempt at being courteous. Well, that's what you get when you shut yourself off from reality for five years like an autistic hobbit, she thought snidely. Her black heels clacked as she uncrossed her long, lean legs and rose smoothly from her chair, drink still in hand and a cigarette dangling from her rosey lips. Her eyes were smokey, her blond hair wrapped up in a messy bun with a black veil dangling over her brows. She wore a form-fitting, leather black dress that came down just above her knees. Stalking over to Bloodhawk with a smirk on her face, she stood a few inches from her face and exhaled, sending her smoke into his eyes.

"That would be an understatement," she mocked, her gleaming white fangs protruding from a crooked smile. Rae's eyes shifted downward as she caught his hand, shoved in his rather deep pocket. She chuckled and rolled her eyes.

"Oh, wouldja look at that. The little birdie wants to play with the big boys."

Looking behind him she caught the face of Miriel, making her grimace. "Looks like you brought along your pet elf. She does the breast-work, eh?" she snickered, throwing a glance back at the rowdy deadbeats still going at it right outside the now locked doors.

She downed the rest of her drink with one gulp and threw the glass onto the floor, making Bloodhawk wince as it shattered. Looking around, she put her hands on her hips and shook her head, clicking her tongue at him.

"Tsk tsk, dearie. Look at the mess you've made," she sneered.[/size]



Bloodhawk's face twisted with rage as she scolded him, making him whip out his gun and press it against her chest. "In the end, the only blood I will spill is that of your godforsaken leader," he growled.


Rae just continued to smile, clearly satisfied with his reaction. "I just hope you're a bit less stupid by that point. Otherwise it'll be awfully boring..." She wipped out four throwing knives and slashed the revolver away, cutting Bloodhawk's arm within that single swipe. Her deep blue eyes grew all the more catlike with every second passed. She raised the bloodiest knife to her tongue and licked the edge, closing her eyes with satisfaction. Bird blood. A favorite of all felines.[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[»Míríel«]

Miriel smiled at Bloodhawk when he placed his hand on her slender shoulder. Blood hawk wasn't one of many words sometimes and sometimes his actions seemed more heartfelt then his words. This moment of security was shattered at the presence of another character. She seemed to be made from shadows and had a burning cat gaze that seemed to be pinning you down before she killed you. It only took a glance to know that she meant business and wasn't someone to be played with.

Miriel's blue eyes narrowed at the mention of her doing the “breast work”. “Only when it's the only language they know how to process. I'm sure you could have done a better job at “breastwork”, you seem to have practice in that area.” Those blue pools that made her eyes were made of pure ice at this moment. The sword that hung at her hip was calling to be held, screaming for blood. Miriel hated having to use her body to get men to do what she wanted and for this girl to be slapping her in the face with that fact got Miriel on her bad side.

As soon as that dark shadow attracted her leader the sword almost seemed to leap from the scabbard into her hands. How grotesque could the women get, licking blood like it was some sort of candy. “I hope she filet's her tongue on that dagger.” Miriel couldn't help but think. As that girl had her eyes closed Miriel brought her sword flashing at Rae's neck, hoping for it to take a bite.

[*ƒiƒi*]

RAE

Rae just grinned crookedly at the pretty little elf's retort, thoroughly enjoying her anger. She revealed a growing set of four fangs, her lips stained red from Bloodhawk's avian blood. A sound of metal whipped through the air, and Rae opened her eyes only to find a sword being flung at her neck. She thrust her head backward and within a second had her rifle grasped tightly, her finger taut on the trigger. In a smooth, inhuman movement Rae flipped her entire body backward and landed on her feet atop a nearby table, armed and prepared to blow their brains out.

Bloodhawk hollered with the pain as Rae sliced his skin with the knives and grasped his forearm, making his own blood run onto his hands. Within that very second that his attention had been diverted, he heard the explosion of a shot from above, making him whip his eyes upward to see a bullet flying straight for Miriel's head. He slammed his body into hers, making both of them go down onto the tile with a thud. Suddenly a piercing pain surged through his leg as he felt something dig into his skin. He let out with a bird-like shriek of fury as he realized he had been caught by the bullet. Still on top of Miriel he blocked her with his body and exposed his own gun, turning it directly to Raemond and firing a shot that should have sliced right through her chest. The world slowed around Bloodhawk as all else slipped out of focus but that small metal bullet, sent on a course to Rae's demise. He could feel his leg go numb, the pins and needles tingling upward to his pelvis. All of his pain, all of his troubles and suffering would be worth it once that little capsule pierced her black, shriveled heart. His eyes closed in agonizing satisfaction as he heard the bullet hit, opening his eyes only as silence took over.

Instead of finding Rae's body, limp and lifeless on the table, the only thing he saw was a huge hole in the walls, ripped open by the bullet that was meant to be lodged in her chest. Bloodhawk looked around, his eyes bloodshot and wide with frenzy. She was nowhere to be found.

"....Damn it!" he cursed hoarsely under his breath, beads of sweat dripping down his face from the pain of his injury. Just then, a thin object was planted right in front of his face, making him flinch. With gritted teeth he sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. An Ace of Spades. He reached his hand up and pulled his communicator closer to his face, a look of utter defeat making his face go pale as he whispered two simple words, words powerful enough to fill anyone with any sense with fear.

"He's here."[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[»Míríel«]

Miriel felt disappointment rush over her body at knowing that her sword had passed through thin air. "Blast it!" She had just been able to bring her sword back down at a ready position when she realized that Raemond had her gun pointed straight at her head. " Oh sh-" Miriel didn't get any farther before the sound of a gunshot rang in her ears and the weight of another body knocked her down to the ground.

The brawling outside seemed to go quiet for a moment as her focus was upon the bullet that Bloodhawk had shot. "Let it hit...please let it hit...." She sent up a silent prayer and only when she heard the bullet hit did she bother to look, but nothing was there. "Man... I thought there would be one less jerk in the world.." She muttered slightly. Only then did she realize that Bloodhawk was on top of her. A slight rosy hue spread over her face, only a shade pinker than her normal pale skin. He had saved her life. It wasn't everyday you got saved by your boss, who you were supposed to be saving/helping. How embarrassing. "Sorry...I should have been more careful. Are you alright?" She studied his face, the beads of sweat and pained expression answered her question.

Just when she was going to continue the ace of spades came to her peripheral vision. "He's here." Those words echoed in her ears. Great. "Just our luck." Even this slightly cocky statement was tinged with fear. Why did he have to come here?

[*ƒiƒi*]

BLOODHAWK

[/size]

Bloodhawk's eyes grew wide with rage and apprehension as they flicked back and forth, constantly watching every direction. With great caution he rose from his place, not daring to move a single unnecessary muscle. His head rose slowly as he motioned to Miriel to rise beside him, knowing this could very well turn into an ambush at any moment. His face twisted in a painful grimace as another shot of searing pain rushed up his leg, the blood making a small "plip" as a drop splashed against the tiles. He gritted his teeth until they were gnashing against each other, trying with all of his willpower to restrain his scream of pain. The gashes on his arms felt like mere splinters as he attempted to shift the position of his injured leg. Bloodhawk reached with a shaking hand for his communicator, and through gritted teeth he ordered, "Send Woe here. Immediately."

A static-y response sent him into a rage. "I don't care if he's half-way to Hell! Send him here NOW-"

Bloodhawk's orders were drowned out by the sound of an explosion.

The impact threw him back against the wall as a huge clump of shrapnel shattered the bar's windows and sent tables and chairs flying in every direction. Bloodhawk could barely move as he was slammed against the counter, hurrying to stay in touch with the rest of his team.

"Sir? Sir!? What's happening!? What do you need!?"

A stream of blood flowed from the corner of his lips as he croaked, "Help. We need help."

He winced as a black, heavy boot was planted against his neck. His hopes sank as he heard the click of a gun, and felt the cold metal against his temple.

[/color]

Maverick looked down on his enemy with contempt as he growled, "That, my feathered friend, is a horrible understatement."

Behind him, five soldiers armed with heavy machinery walked in a single file, their faces cold as stone as they looked for the girl through the flying dust and rubble. It was nearly impossible to see through the thick, brown cloud caused by the explosion. The confusion showed clearly on their stoney expression, and Bloodhawk felt his spirits rise with hope.

She had to get away. It was their only chance.[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[»Míríel«]

Miriel nodded as Bloodhawk motioned her to rise. Picking herself up she gazed about her for a moment, then her attention turned to him. The blood was pooling beside him, drip by drip. "Sir, you're hurt!" Miriel could heal, but she hadn't used it in some time and healing others was a totally different animal than healing herself. If one healed one's self then just a warm yet cooling sensation rushed over the area hurt, but the strain of healing that Miriel possessed, if she were to heal another the pain transferred for about a minute as the subject she was healing's pain slowly dissipated and a slight itching sensation resumed. This feeling would quickly fade after the skin had knitted back together, but for Miriel the pain would resume for about three minutes. Then she would be left exhausted. So she usually didn't heal unless she was in a safe place. This was not a safe place at all. The brawl outside had gotten quiet, to quiet.

Bloodhawk was calling for Dr.Woe, that would be good. He could help better than she could and faster,more than likely. When things started to go south with Dr. Woe, Miriel started to state, "I could-" That was all she could get out before the explosion erupted. The sound of metal flying about her filled her ears as the force sent her flying against the wall. A dull thud sounded and everything went black. It was a couple seconds later that she woke up, ears ringing and everything blurry around her. Everything looked like a world of brown. Her head hurt, why did her head hurt and why was the world spinning like it was? A dull pain in her side and across her face came to her attention. Reaching down she touched her side, her hand came up spotted with blood. "I'm bleeding..." Her thoughts slugged through her mind. That blond hair of hers was dirty now, it's brightness darkened and there was a thin trickle of blood from her cheek where a piece of shrapnel had nicked her face. "Get up, blast you, get up! Bloodhawk is hurt you have to help." She struggled up. The world was clearer now and her senses were quickly returning. She needed to get away, but how could she? "Fool, you will be no help to the cause if your carcass is found later." She shook her head to clear her mind more, "That is if they are gracious enough to leave anything to find." So she decided on escaping, it was her only chance. Sliding out, eyes narrowed to try and see for any hostile figure. Five figures were approaching, looking like dark ghosts through the dirt. She was against the wall and the only thing to let her go was to create some sort of distraction. Reaching down to her side her hand reached for an empty sheath. A frantic thought raced through her head, "My sword!" It had been knocked out of her hand by the explosion. It's whereabouts were unknown to her. "Hopefully it's by Bloodhawk..." Perhaps he could defend himself if he still had the strength.

Instead she reached down slowly, the movement made her head spin slightly but it soon passed. "That knock to my head was harder than I thought..." Her fingers, this time, found what they were searching for. The hilt of a dagger. Sliding it out of it's holder in her shoe she took aim for one of the men, the one in the back. If all went well this would cause the men to turn and look back at their fallen comrade, temporarily taking their attention off of the search for her. Taking careful aim, she let the projectile fly, ignoring the pain that raced through her side. Healing would come later.