"Alright already, damn! You've chased me from one end of Fiore to the other, you friggin' psycho," the man yelled as he watched the door to his last remaining safe house explode inward. He didn't need to see through the haze to know who it was. This masked mercenary had chased and dogged his every move the moment he had gone on the run. It was almost like he was some robot out of those novels, created for a specific purpose. It was maddening, really...and honestly a little flattering. "I have to say, I don't know who the evil one is here. Sure, I may have killed some people, but you..." he snickered lightly, "you've burned down every place I've been to--even my relatives. They're still alive, you know. They made it out."
The haze shifted as the masked man entered, walking calmly as if he was on a stroll through a park during a day of beautiful weather. "I know," he answered flatly. The man's raised brow of a look caused the masked man to nearly chuckle as well. His near raspy voice let only a 'hnn' escape. "Who do you think warned them of the fire? I've no need for killing innocents if its avoidable."
"Then why burn down those buildings?"
The masked man was silent for a moment. "It's logical. Without those places, eventually you'd run out of holes to hide."
The wanted mage let out a guffaw before he shook his head. "So destruction for you is on a logical basis? How....fucking boring!" Standing from the sole structure in the underground bunker like facility--which was a bed--he stretched. "But...I suppose this is where we fight, eh? Well...alright then, bucko, I'ma lay the hurt you if only for my families estates."
The masked man remained silent at this point, his crimson tattered cape shifting as he brought his gloved fists up. Fire exploded to life around them at this point, and his feet spread apart into a combat stance.
"A....fire mage," the wanted man asked before letting out another laugh. "I'm a fire mage too, you know. I don't know why I hadn't thought of it sooner...with you burning everything down!"
Beneath the mask, the man grinned. Of course he did, and it was the sole reason he took this job. Fire mages were all the same. Overzealous, cocky pricks...who fizzled out rather quickly, once they seen their fire getting chomped on like a fat kid in a candy shop. His legs tightened and sprung him forward, propelling him the short distance towards the man--before he spun and was flung against the far wall. He never reached his target.
"Oh? I meant I control fire...not use it. Sucks for you...," the criminal called as he folded his arms behind his head. "Buuuuut, looks like this is the end of the line for the infamous 'Crimson Tempest'!"
The Crimson Tempest sat up mechanically before he pushed himself up. If he couldn't use his magic to beat the guy, then he'd just have to do it the old fashioned way. He sprung to his feet and launched back at the man with a quick jab to his nose, meant to disorient him. The blow connected and the man let out a grunt as he grabbed the thin broken bones and cartilage. As was natural for the body, he saw glints of tears in the man's eyes and immediately hit his hands back on the ground, falling for a sweeping blow to the man's ankle.
The man proved the swifter though, stooping down and grabbing the masked man's leg mid sweep. He used the inertia behind the sweep (and the lack of anything to grasp onto) to spin the crimson cloaked man around and fling him into the bed behind him, at waist height.
Cloaked man met rickety bed in a crash, causing the frame to buckle and the straw mattress to explode. Having met the object with his chest, his mask loosened and fell to the floor. The sound of the hollow object spinning on the stone seemed to mute out the wooden object having buckled and toppled in a heap.
The formerly masked man looked over his shoulder to the wanted criminal, the cloak hiding half of his face from view still, but allowed the corner of his mouth and left eye to show.
The wanted criminal stopped, blinking as the Crimson Tempest reached over and gingerly grasped the mask. Hysterical laughing filled the small room as the mask was placed back on.
"A kid? A fucking kid!? The Crimson Tempest is a damn kid!? What're you boy? Like 16?!"
"You shouldn't have done that," the masked man called as he made it to a kneel.
"Oh-ho? And why's that?"
"Because I was told you were wanted alive...and anyone who has seen my face, cannot be allowed to live." Silence reigned between the two. "I suppose accidents happen, though."
"You're a cocky little shit ain't ya," the criminal said, agitation apparent in his voice. He lunged at the mask wearing man just as he secured a piece of the broken bed and turned to meet him--the splintered tip of the board aimed upward's, towards the man's chin.
The haze shifted as the masked man entered, walking calmly as if he was on a stroll through a park during a day of beautiful weather. "I know," he answered flatly. The man's raised brow of a look caused the masked man to nearly chuckle as well. His near raspy voice let only a 'hnn' escape. "Who do you think warned them of the fire? I've no need for killing innocents if its avoidable."
"Then why burn down those buildings?"
The masked man was silent for a moment. "It's logical. Without those places, eventually you'd run out of holes to hide."
The wanted mage let out a guffaw before he shook his head. "So destruction for you is on a logical basis? How....fucking boring!" Standing from the sole structure in the underground bunker like facility--which was a bed--he stretched. "But...I suppose this is where we fight, eh? Well...alright then, bucko, I'ma lay the hurt you if only for my families estates."
The masked man remained silent at this point, his crimson tattered cape shifting as he brought his gloved fists up. Fire exploded to life around them at this point, and his feet spread apart into a combat stance.
"A....fire mage," the wanted man asked before letting out another laugh. "I'm a fire mage too, you know. I don't know why I hadn't thought of it sooner...with you burning everything down!"
Beneath the mask, the man grinned. Of course he did, and it was the sole reason he took this job. Fire mages were all the same. Overzealous, cocky pricks...who fizzled out rather quickly, once they seen their fire getting chomped on like a fat kid in a candy shop. His legs tightened and sprung him forward, propelling him the short distance towards the man--before he spun and was flung against the far wall. He never reached his target.
"Oh? I meant I control fire...not use it. Sucks for you...," the criminal called as he folded his arms behind his head. "Buuuuut, looks like this is the end of the line for the infamous 'Crimson Tempest'!"
The Crimson Tempest sat up mechanically before he pushed himself up. If he couldn't use his magic to beat the guy, then he'd just have to do it the old fashioned way. He sprung to his feet and launched back at the man with a quick jab to his nose, meant to disorient him. The blow connected and the man let out a grunt as he grabbed the thin broken bones and cartilage. As was natural for the body, he saw glints of tears in the man's eyes and immediately hit his hands back on the ground, falling for a sweeping blow to the man's ankle.
The man proved the swifter though, stooping down and grabbing the masked man's leg mid sweep. He used the inertia behind the sweep (and the lack of anything to grasp onto) to spin the crimson cloaked man around and fling him into the bed behind him, at waist height.
Cloaked man met rickety bed in a crash, causing the frame to buckle and the straw mattress to explode. Having met the object with his chest, his mask loosened and fell to the floor. The sound of the hollow object spinning on the stone seemed to mute out the wooden object having buckled and toppled in a heap.
The formerly masked man looked over his shoulder to the wanted criminal, the cloak hiding half of his face from view still, but allowed the corner of his mouth and left eye to show.
The wanted criminal stopped, blinking as the Crimson Tempest reached over and gingerly grasped the mask. Hysterical laughing filled the small room as the mask was placed back on.
"A kid? A fucking kid!? The Crimson Tempest is a damn kid!? What're you boy? Like 16?!"
"You shouldn't have done that," the masked man called as he made it to a kneel.
"Oh-ho? And why's that?"
"Because I was told you were wanted alive...and anyone who has seen my face, cannot be allowed to live." Silence reigned between the two. "I suppose accidents happen, though."
"You're a cocky little shit ain't ya," the criminal said, agitation apparent in his voice. He lunged at the mask wearing man just as he secured a piece of the broken bed and turned to meet him--the splintered tip of the board aimed upward's, towards the man's chin.