(no subject)

[truth_is_cold]

Who: Gaheris Rhade and Open
What: Rhade takes a break from city searching
Where: Outside of one of Gediron's temples.
When: A couple of days after his arrival
Warnings & Notes: Some almost violence. He's still at sort of an angsty place in his lift too, so it might come up in thread. Note to mods: if anything is off, I will be glad to change it.

He was scouting the area of the city near the inn where he'd been recieved. The intention that day had been to go to the unemployment office (it was bizarre that, after so many years as a commissioned officer and one expecting his life to end, that he'd find himself in this position). Unfortunately, outside of one of the temples (belonging to the god of war, he thought?) there was a heated game of chess going on with an intent onlooker.

Rhade never shied away from strategy games. He'd played them to conclusion almost daily for over four years, and the last year of which against an artificial intelligence. Successfully side-tracked, he waited his turn to sit at the table against the reigning winner. He could always continue with his mission once he'd won a game and perhaps he could acquire information. So he asked for a turn, and took the place of the losing participant who joined in observing.

The only thing he learned was that he should be dedicating his victories to Gediron. Very well, there would be no expense to him in doing so. And he did. And the next one after the insistance for a rematch. And the next one. By that third, his oponent (a rather sturdy bodied, red-headed and ruddy faced human with a fair share of scars), who had been entirely too underestimating, stood up and his hand went back as if to reach for a holstered weapon.

Before he could even wrap his fingers around it, Rhade's own arm was up, boneblades out and near the increasingly nervous man's throat. He would have been much more cocky, confident about his swift reaction, if the man's friends that had been watching didn't suddenly look keen on joining in on a fight.

He was new to the area. He couldn't imagine anything good coming from this when he killed someone. And he knew he would kill someone if they came after him. The idea of interrogation and the need for self-preservation was enough to stay his hand. Lowering his arm, switched to raising his hands in a vague gesture of surrender and backed away from the table, away from the temple, even if his expression remained daring.

It would be a miracle if he could stay out of trouble past the first two weeks. He despised backing off, but he would take it as his cue to tend to priorities.

Comments

4th wall day at my other game always kicks my butt.

[truth_is_cold]

"Sounds impressive. Most of my people are named after warrior figures and conquerors." He sounds proud of that.

"What are the rules there?" Rules, to him, were games within games. You played with them. Bent them. Broke them in secret. You weren't offended when you were caught because they were supposed to be watching for it. If you couldn't do it so you wouldn't be noticed, you were the failure and the other party was superior.