Zorro Means Fox

The exaggerated exaggerations of a daily life.

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Magic - Part 4

Sirus searched through the bodies on the ground, retrieving his knives and tucking them back into their sheaths. There wasn't of course much time that night before Sirus' target got back into to the safety of his house. In fact there was a pretty small time gap between when the target left one house to enter his own, and Sirus intended to be there.

A wolf howled in the distance and Sirus shivered. He'd hoped there wouldn't be any werewolves around town. He looked warily to the full moon, ever conscious that he couldn't outfight or outrun one of those. Well it looked like he had less time tonight than he'd hoped for. And the longer Sirus, or 'William Damasque', stayed in town, the better chance his target had to discover that. Two good reasons to hurry up.

Doubtlessly the footpads would be robbed blind by the time the night was up. Served them right though, robbing innocent people, even girls, even if she is a neko. Sirus knew he should have felt guilty for killing them. The followers at least were no guilty than a dog ordered to hunt down a thief. Still, he couldn't help feel nothing but contempt for them. He'd dealt with thugs like them for years: they preyed on the weak. Nothing like assassins. Assassins went after anyone, and that was what made them special. Sirus occasionally took a job that required him to kill someone. It was a simple fact that any bounty hunter had to face at some point.

Sirus was on his way to pick up his target, the son of an elderly lord in the oligarchic council of Taria. The boy was a 'regular' of bounty hunters. He'd run away uncounted times from his duties as heir-apparent on various missions of peace keeping or conservation. Sirus himself had had the honour of carrying the kid back to his folks twice. They knew each other almost by first name by now. And now Sirus had to find and collect him again.

The night hadn't changed at all, and another wolf's howl broke the silence. In the distance Sirus could hear the faint sounds of a tavern brawl, laughing, the occasional broken glass or yelp. He set out, his long cloak sweeping back in a chance breeze channeled down a nearby alleyway.

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Huh... for some reason I can't exactly get my mind around writing.

Sirus is basically a character who I've been tossing up for a while. He's a kitsune with no skill in illusions at all. This is pretty weird, since very few high kitsune can't use it. A high kitsune is basically a pure-bred kitsune, normally the purest strains are royalty. They come from the land of Tamryn. Sirus instead concentrated on fast movements and agility, becoming a soldier and following his father's footsteps. With no particular patriotism, Sirus left the army during a stay for a diplomatic mission in Taria. He joined the police force, hoping for a better career in a less crowded job.

Gah, I can't concentrate on this.

Anyhow, Sirus quit the police force after reaching the position of Detective Investigator. He found that working in a group wasn't to his style. So Sirus became a Private Investigator, working only on cases that interested him. He was mildly succesful, though eventually he got into some trouble with some cultists, owed more money than he was earning, and ended up taking on jobs a little less savoury to earn it. With a backing in the police force he knew how to avoid them and leave no trace. He adopted a pseudonym of Darius Lacrain and lived a double life, Darian the assassin and Sirus the P.I. He was even asked to take on a few cases where he was the suspect.

Anyhow, that's enough for now.

Friday, August 11, 2006

Magic - Part 3

"I don't have time for this," Sirus sighed. First I get sidetracked to rescue a maiden in distress, now I find out she was less than distressed. Gah, I always do this! He was absentmindedly chiding himself. Every time he was set to work on a serious mission a good looking girl came along and distracted him. It was just his bad luck this time that the girl happened to be of a race which his own actively despised.

Sirus caught a hold of himself to see Siarra leaning over to take the purse from the fallen bandit leader. "What are you doing?" He asked.

"No sense letting this money go to waste," she said with a grin, dropping the formal accent. Sirus tried not to notice her feline ears or her fine curves under her cloak. Her hood had fallen to around her neck, looking like a scarf in the night. Strange eyes peered out from under long bangs: purple and gold irises blended roughly together. "It's not as if this man will need the money. Indeed, most fortuitous it is that it should fall into my possession, owing to the fact that I require such prizes." As she 'aquired' the bandit's posessions, Sirus caught sight of the twinkle of a green gem in the dark. Siarra seemed intent particularly on this prize, studying it in the moonlight before pocketing it in a deep fold.

"I have to go," he said, turning his back on the neko. "I trust you can find your way back home safely?" He didn't know much about magic, especially destructive magic. But from what he did know, it was obvious that she wouldn't have any power left to cast more spells. But she had other ways to survive; sneaking for one.

Siarra looked guilty for a second, then looked about to argue but decided differently. "If you want it that way," she said, kicking the bandit leader before taking off into the night. Sirus shook his head. A strange encounter, but that night he had more to do than contemplate meetings.