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Post by Silas Bloodthunder on Dec 1, 2007 13:52:44 GMT -5
Already anticipating his preys capture, Silas was completely unprepared for Max's sudden assualt. Her fall combined with the weight of the chains sent of sprawling back into the dune, sand flying with the impact. He could feel her wings battering him, and felt his hat fly away in the tumult. She was vicious, and he could only assume his attempts on her freedom were to blame. Thinking quickly, Silas wouldn't allow her to hurt herself any more then he had already done to her, and certainly not if that would hurt him at the same time. Still, tangled as he was in the sudden mass of chain, there was little he could do about it. He began reeling in the chains, tightening his grip on her leg and waist, constricting her. The chains snapped up into his coat, and with a simply manuever he had freed her of the scythe-ended chain around her leg. Bringing the blade into his hand in an effort to at least arm himself against her. One slam of her wings beat him down into the sand with amazing force, completely disorienting him in the wave of sand that followed.
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Post by Max on Dec 1, 2007 14:04:51 GMT -5
Knowing that she caught him off guard, Max used it to her full advantage. It was amazing that feathers could be so painful. They were soft by themselves, but put together and powered by muscles, they became weapons. The hard quills of the flight feathers beat against his face and skin, leaving thin red lines on any unprotected skin. With the chains around her, she couldn't move as unhindered as she would have liked. It surprised her a bit that he took out the knife from her leg, but then Max saw he meant it to be used as a weapon against her. It was getting harder to fight due to the chains tightening around her waist. One of her arms was caught in the bands of metal, and she had to fight a little for breath while fighting for freedom. With her other arm she balanced the best she could while beating at him with her wings. Knocking him down, she was upon him before he could get back up. Max knew that flight wasn't an option due to the chains still around her waist. So at least knocking him unconscious enough to free herself was her most viable option. With the free hand she sent a fist right towards his jaw, a bit below his ear, in a move that she knew would either knock him out or dislocate his jaw. Maybe both.
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Post by Silas Bloodthunder on Dec 1, 2007 14:19:55 GMT -5
Silas caught the punch full in the face, and was surprised yet again by the amount of force behind it. It stung more then he could remember ever being hit. It stung, but he was used to things far worse. He couldn't clearly see Max through the furious pounding of her wings and from all the feathers that were somehow cutting him, but he knew enough to guess. And he knew what to do. Max was fighting for her freedom now, and that meant she would get far more dangerous if the fight wore on. She had the upper hand for now, and that wasn't going to continue. He threw the scythe in his hand up, catching the wing that came down for his face and letting the blade bite deep into the muscle. Then again, reasching into his coat, he snared as many chains as he could, capping them all with his assortment of knives and blades, and throwing his coat aside launched the half dozen chains out and towards max. Pulling her in by the ball around her waist, he knew she was far too close to avoid them all.
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Post by Max on Dec 1, 2007 14:44:37 GMT -5
Whipping backwards as the dull blade sank into her already damaged wing, Max snarled angrily, her eyes stony gray. Blood dripped over her feathers, spattering Silas as well as she fought. Her wings were her life and her death; she would be almost helpless without them. The left wing now drug uselessly, to injured to contine. Flying was definitely not an option now. Max felt herself being drawn closer, the chains heavy and tight around her thin waist. Struggling, she tried to get away. But the chained weapons came at her unrelentingly. One knife slit her cheek, releasing a thin trickle of blood. It made her look even more terrifying as her eyes darkened and her black wing beat tirelessly. But then the other chains wrapped around her, pinning her wings close and cocooning her in metal. Falling heavily on her back, she rolled and tried to get back up again. Max would not be captured easily, that was for sure.
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Post by Silas Bloodthunder on Dec 1, 2007 15:06:51 GMT -5
Silas sat still in the sand where she had blasted him, breathing heavily from the rush of the fight. He yanked the chains tighter around her, ceasing her struggling as much as he could. Standing up and walking over to her, he knelt down and looked her in the eye, unperturbed by the hateful stare he was reciving. He didn't return her ire, instead her smiled, and reaching into a pocket, produced a reddened cloth and wiped away the blood from her cheek. "Not bad at all. That was the most fun i've had in weeks." He said cheerily. He retrieved his hat from where it had been blown, and began straightening his coat, looking for all the world that the numerous cuts on him didn't matter. To be safe, he threw the last of his chains down on her, sinking the ends deep into the sand to hold her still. "I'm sorry you had to be so badly hurt. You're a bit too feisty for your own good...although I enjoyed the display you put on. I never knew simple feathers could be so useful. I confess myself impressed."
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Post by Max on Dec 1, 2007 15:16:31 GMT -5
Max recoiled at his touch, jerking her head away and struggling against the cold weight of the chains. She preferred the blood on her face to anything he would do to her. Feeling helpless only incensed her to greater anger. And this assasin didn't help. He was cocky and bold. Sorry? If he was sorry he would let her go. Her mind worked furiously at how to get free. But with a damaged wing and chains covering her body, Max was effectively incapacitated. He treated her as if she were a game! Only another enjoyment for him. If he had been inside her mind, he would have found that he just escalated himself to second most hated being. And being on Max's hate list never boded well. The scientists were collectively first, of course. And it was they who had hired him, of that she was sure. It disgusted her what people would do for money. With a glare that could have frozen hell over, Max kept silent, glowering there in the sand. A slight breeze wafted over the dunes, tickling her face with a few tendrils of dark blonde hair. One way or another she would get out of this, even if someone had to die to do so. That was an extreme option, but Max was in an extreme situation.
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Post by Silas Bloodthunder on Dec 1, 2007 21:13:21 GMT -5
Silas sat down in the sand, eyeing her. He smiled, and again from his coat pulled a notepad and pencil. Flipping the tiny booklet open he began writing. "Well, I tried being civil. I would have let you up if you had been a bit more complacent." He muttered under his breath. He shifted a boot and gave the chain nearest to him a kick, sending that length flying up and off her. He caught the end, and had it back around him and under his coat in seconds. The result was that he had left max mostly free, except for her uninjured wing, which he kept throughtly binded and staked deep into the desert sand. he kept her far enough away to avoid getting beat by her impressive wingspan, but close enough to throw more chain if needed. "Now please try and be calm. I'm not taking you back yet; and if you give me a good enough reason I probably won't even do that." He eyed her wounded wing, looking at it with a trained eye, curiocity getting the better of him. "Amazing, really...." He said to himself, scribbling on his pad. "As much as I detest them, those scientists really knew what they were doing. Still, doesn't change the fact they're scum..." he kept writing, letting his unwilling company sit.
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Post by Max on Dec 2, 2007 0:26:11 GMT -5
Civil her butt. 'Civil' didn't attack someone innocently flying along, sprain their ankle, damage their wings, and chain them up on the sand. The last thing he was had to be civil. Now breathing a bit easier with the chains mostly off of her, Max continued to stonily glare at him. He sat there, arrogant in his momentary capture of her, and took notes, much like the scientists themselves. "If they're scum," Max finally growled, "then why did you accept their hunt?" A complete enigma, this one. Her voice didn't quite match the rest of her, tense and bristling as she sat. Clear, with an almost bell-like quality, one could see how she would be rather pleasant to listen to. If only she were not greatly incensed against the hunter. Shifting her wings a bit, she wondered if she could slowly, surrepitously, wriggle out of the bonds. "And you won't be able to not take me back," Max stated scornfully, "it's like signing a contract with the devil himself. They'll find you, you can be assured of that. And then they'll take me and kill you for disobeying. Or cut you up to figure out how you work." She found an almost sick pleasure in telling him this. Max could be quite gruesome at times, and she enjoyed making others a bit unnerved. It gave her power over them, in a way.
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Post by Silas Bloodthunder on Dec 2, 2007 21:37:46 GMT -5
Silas would have laughed if he had found it prudent. As it was, Max clearly had no idea who she was trying to intimidate. He didn't look up from his paper, fixated on his notes. "I kill people for a living. I am the person your creators would hire to cut you apart if they didn't feel like it themselves. And if you had fought them as viciously as you've fought me, its a wonder any of them are still alive to trouble you. And as it stands, your creators have no way of knowing when I'll ever get back to them now do they? So long as I keep "looking" for you, they have no reason to do anything to me. UNfortunate, because I would love to see what they would engineer and send out after seeing you..." He said offhandedly. "And if you keep wiggling I'll tie you up again." He looked up at her, and his smirk disappeared at how uncomfortable she was. Sighing angrily, He stood up, walked around to her tied wing, and removed more of the chain, slipping it all under is coat. With that he sat back down in front of her, and took out his pen and paper again. He looked at her, bored. "There. Better? now sit down."
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Post by Max on Dec 3, 2007 0:47:58 GMT -5
"Well," Max explained as if telling a young child something simplistic, "when you genetically engineer someone and raise them for sixteen years, doing invasive surgeries every month and figuring out thier limits, you get to the point where you can prevent them from even beginning to attack you." Besides, it wasn't until she was about 14 that she actually started to truly rebel. Before that she had been scared of them somewhat, dreaded them, but never dared to think against their wills. But that had changed, or she wouldn't be here right now. As he removed the chains her mind raced furiously. Even if she could get free, Max doubted that she could fly. And running, though she was twice as fast as the normal human, would only mean he would send the chains after her again. So the only option was to wait until he let his guard down. Then Max would attack. Sitting in the sand, Max wondered what he wrote. Did he write some sick log of his captures? As if it wasn't bad enough that he had captured her and agreed to help those scientists. "Oh, and if you take too long, they'll kill you anyways," Max stated cooly, "They aren't very good at being patient."
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Post by Silas Bloodthunder on Dec 4, 2007 21:18:13 GMT -5
"I'd almost be touched by your concern if I thought it was concern you actually meant to portray, my dear." Silas quipped, looking back down to his notes. He heard, faintly, the increase of her hearts tempo, the subtle pounding only he and his kind were able to hear at all; the telltale pulse of thier prey. She was planning somthing. Most likly an attack. He smiled. If it had been him, he would have been planning the same thing. He saw her eying his notes, and he chuckled. He flipped the pad around, showing her the detailsed drawing of herself he was doing, notes out to the side summerizing everything she had said and done since thier abrupt fight. Silas didn't pride himself on his artist talents, but he knew he was at least proficent. He didn't quite think he had her countours completely right, but mistakes could be handled. "Its just notes for myself. I'm not mentally dissecting you. Although I am interested in the wellspring of information you could give me..." He paused eyeing her, and his gaze shifted from pleasently humourus to dark and serious. A look perfected after years of seeing people die and beg for death without ever having the slightest notion of remorse. A look that promised swift and painful death if he was not given what he wanted. "I want you to tell me about yourself. Where you have been in the last few months; what you have done. I want to know everything about what these scientists did to you. You can start anywhere you like..."
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Post by Max on Dec 5, 2007 11:21:17 GMT -5
Max cocked her head at his drawing. She looked a bit off, but the wings were a dead givaway to who it was. The assassin was not too bad of an artist, she decided. Then he began to question her, and her guard went sky high. Max guarded herself ferociously, and questioning her only ensured that she would tell you little. The look in his dark eyes was met cooly by her own gray gaze. She was unafraid of him; the worst he could do was kill her. She had been through probably every torture method - disguised as 'experiments' - that he could imagine, and probably ones he couldn't. In fact, in a way Max sometimes wondered if it would be easier to die than to live this life on the run. But the innate hunger for life that thrived in all was strong within her, and so she kept running, kept fighting to stay on top. "I want you," she replied in a steely tone, "to let me loose of these chains. Even you should be smart enough to see that I cannot run with my ankle and I cannot fly since you ripped out my feathers. Until that, you will hear nothing."
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Post by Silas Bloodthunder on Dec 8, 2007 22:53:14 GMT -5
Silas smiled, slyly. Interesting how someoe so young had eyes so intent when she wanted them to be. He respected that. Mentally he called the links away from her, the stell slipping back and up into his coat at his call. Then he resumed his notes. Not bothering what she really did at this point. At least not for now. Thinking over the nights events didn't take long, but brought up some important clues to him. Max was living on the run, and for that he had to admit she was doing very well. After their brief tussle Silas had a notion of why his employers wanted her back. He knew also that thanks to them, Max was hardly as human as he was. Which made things interesting to say the least. She was also intellegent, but he had known that from reserching her files. It was also apparent that for all her gusto, she was fragile, as her bleeding wing and heavy breathing were attesting too. He had been too rough with her, and it upset him a bit. He stood up, gave a quick crack or two of his knuckles, and started walking past her towards the Nile. "I'm Silas, by the way. If you'd like I can try and help you out for tonight and try and fix some the hurt I've caused you." He said, trying to sound as friendly as he could. "That is if you can trust me not to go immediatly to your employers. I still want my questions answered."
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Post by Max on Dec 8, 2007 23:33:56 GMT -5
Finding herself unbound, Max stretched her good wing out a bit, letting it rest in a relaxed position. The injured wing she pulled around so that she could look at it. Fingering the open holes where the feathers used to be, she was relieved to see that the injury had not gone flesh deep. A few ragged broken off feathers remained and, gritting her teeth a bit, she yanked those out. A few drops of blood fell to the thirsty desert sand as she did so. Pinion feathers, unlike the smaller ones, were attatched deeper in the skin. It made for a more solid wing structure, and more control over the feathers themselves. They would cease bleeding soon. Advanced healing would assure that. But in order for the new to come in, the old had to come out. Normally this happened through molting, not chained weapons. Personally, Max preferred to molt.
"Silas, huh?" Max said, squinting up at him out of one keen eye, "well taking me to your 'employers' would undo pretty much any good you tried to bring my way. And if you think I am a fragile little bird girl, lost and all alone in the cold and friendly world, you've got another thing coming to you. I breathe fast because my metabolism runs three times faster than yours. Hence, as you may know if you took any sort of basic biology, my heartbeat also runs at a rapid tick, making by breathing a lot faster than yours as well. It's amazing what will happen when you fuse avian DNA to human, isn't it?" This last part she made sure to add special sarcastic emphasis on. Information gathering son of a.....she cursed him in French, keeping it in her head, glaring at his back sulkily. And no wonder. He had just rendered her incapable of flying, which meant that for a week she would be deprived of the adrenaline rushes she craved, the rushes that were fulfilled through flight. Max was in no mood to be friendly to this Silas.
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Post by Silas Bloodthunder on Dec 30, 2007 22:01:18 GMT -5
He chuckled, seeing her glaring ever more and more persistantly at him. He could understand, in a way. Clipping a birds wings took a lot from the bird itself, and it left a sour taste in his mouth. a hunt was a hunt, that was true, and he always enjoyed those, but it wasn't any fun if he completely broke his prey before turning them in. Ah well, she had spirit, and knowledge enough to know sense and sarcasm, the latter earning her more respect then the former. "Truly a handbasket of surprises, this night has been." He remarked over his shoulder to her. "Still, your assumptions have been less then accurate. Your creators spoke so highly of your intellegence...I'm disappointed to find that you don't understand the difference between honest curiocity and forceed interrogation." He laughed, more at himself then her. "I don't mean it as an insult, but i am at least trying to make up for my rude behavior thus far. And if I come off as an information gathering son of a....well, you know what you were thinking don't you?" He looked back to her, hands resting easily in his pockets and with a wicked grin on his face. He couldn't read minds, but it didn't take a genius to realize someone loathed you. "I prefer my first meetings that way....it keeps my privacy intact."
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