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[assassin_daddy]

Jᴀᴄᴏʙ Fʀʏᴇ "I'm no criminal. I just do as I please."

 

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[dezza]

Pulled it off a corpse.

[ She shrugs, not really noticing that might be an awful thing to say. It was the truth, is all. ]

Then one of my siblings - he was real clever, made it fit me. Been using it ever since.

[assassin_daddy]

[ That makes him laugh, unexpected and true. How many corpses had he looted in his time? A great many. And wasn't that how he'd found the very first addition to his own blade? From salvaging?

But then he sobers up a little, because perhaps that means the corpse she took it from was an assassin. And perhaps that means she's someone he shouldn't be so friendly with.

But his own coat bears the insignia of the Assassins plainly enough, if one cares to recognise it. But she's made no sign that she has. ]

May I see it? You don't need to take it off. I wouldn't ask that of you.

[dezza]

[ She eyes him up, humming a second. Trust. Trust had to be shown to get it back. ]

Sure, alright. But here. I will. You can get a good peek. Good faith, aye? Just don't try to use it. Don't mean anything by it, but you're shorter than me and gotta be my size to not go flying if you grab the wrong thing with it.

[ She shifts up to her chest and the large leather buckle and shoulder piece that holds the magnetic bracer to her body. Then the one at the opposite shoulder, and begins to slide it down her arm and off.

Settling it with a heavy thunk. It weighs a damn lot, and it shows when her upper body is more freely exposed and the thickly corded muscles that support using something like that half as well as she does.

( And a truly terrible series of tan lines across her back and shoulders now exposed for good measure). ]

[assassin_daddy]

[ He really isn't expecting her to take it off, but as she sets about the task, it becomes clear that this is not some adapted Gauntlet, something found and tweaked slightly for the situation and enviroment of the wearer. For a start, it clearly was heavy as hell. Not something easily carried about or worn while scaling a steeple.

But he examines it all the same, the connections that clearly are there to support it, prevent it ripping off the arm of its owner.]

It's clearly very useful. I thought it was like a weapon I've seen used before, but it isn't. Not at all. Yours is clearly more substantial, far more powerful. But I doubt anyone other than you could use it as effectively. It's been tailored to you after all.

[dezza]

Most of the bastards where I come from are nearer to my size than the other way. Something in the water, who knows? We're big buggers and fight even bigger things, so this stuff tends to be the go too, combined with more guts than brains and some cunning.

[ She shrugs a shoulder, that laughing, casual way she seems to take nothing seriously, or everything too intensely. ]

What you packing then? Pretty knife somewhere?

[ Waiting until he's done she goes back to strapping herself back into it, shrugging it on. ]

[assassin_daddy]

Oh, I like them big. The bigger they are, the harder they fall and all that. Holds true in my experience.

[ There's a return of what must have once been boyish charm, a slight note of flirtation which only gets more obvious as she speaks again and he laughs with delight at her turn of phrase.]

More than one knife, I assure you. But whether its pretty or not, I don't get it out until at least someone buys me dinner. But I can manage in a fight, knives or not. As I am sure you can. Sometimes it's more fun if you don't have a weapon handy.

[dezza]

[ She catches it and returns it in full with a drawn-out smile hooking to one side. ]

Sometimes it's good to get in there, take a grip, get your hands dirty.

[assassin_daddy]

I like the way you think. Now, care to put those words into actions?

[ They're back in the main area of the Arena now, at the central boxing ring and Jacob easily climbs up and between the ropes, offering her a hand up.

Once they're both there, he slips off the long leather coat and tosses it down to one of his staff. There's a number of people gathering to watch. ]

Ready?

[dezza]

[ Ah. Home sweet. The sweat, messy, faintly blood tinged scent of a fighting area. Filthy, nasty, never quite clean, no matter even here, how they tried to scrub it off.

She swings herself underneath the ropes, and she grabs his hand, hauling herself up.

Takes a second, because they weren't out for blood, or even display, just a good old-fashioned bare-fist scuffle. She yanks off the scrap metal armor from her arms, and the bracer off her knee. Didn't need to catch him by mistake and tear him a new one.

Then shifts to face him, and it's subtle. That difference in someone who has lived her life on the edge of her knife. Where her weight thoughtlessly balances on the balls of her feet, her shoulders setting in close but back. Loose, somehow, even with the tenseness. ]

Ready.