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[assassin_daddy]

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

 

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[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.