Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20160716191324/@comment-5543592-20160717013436

(Added appearances and changed the pie around a bit so it's not a re-read now.  Posting before I go to sleep as well since I don't want to have to hold onto this tomorrow.  Will remove and repost it when other character cards are up.) Weeks ago on Kauai...

''Don't know how many times I've been crossed off the list and left for dead. Guess when it first happens the day you were born, you're gonna lose count. So this... this aint nothing new.''

He’d spent the day crawling, fighting wild dogs.

''There are bad days, and then there are legendary bad days. This was shaping up to be one of those.  Whole damn planet wanted a piece of me.''

They circled him now, and he waited for them to try their hand. His leg was busted, so there was no way he was getting up from the spot against this rock.

''Can't stay in the open. Can't risk another attack. It's always the punch you don't see coming that puts you down.''

The pack leader snarled at Randall. Probably because he’d already killed half of its pack. The man narrowed his eyes at the creature in return, and held up the small knuckle blade, daring it to attack.

''But why didn't I see it? Of course they were gonna try and kill me. Death is what they do for a living. So the question ain't "What happened?"''

The pack leader yipped and let forward, jaw’s wide to tear out Randall’s throat.

The question is "What happened to me?"

He rolled to the side and slashed upward, slicing open the dog’s artierty. The animal whimpered and hit the ground. One of the two remaining dogs launched forward now and Randall held up his arm in a defense. He roared in pain as the animal gnawed on his arm, the Caesar’s Legion armor the only thing saving him from becoming an amputee. The dog was stupid, thinking Randall was done. The human fixed a grimace onto his face and buried his blade in its eye. The third came forward now, latching it’s jaw around his ankle. Randall grunted as pain shot up his leg, but managed to lock the animal between his calves, and snapped its neck.

He shoved the dead body aside with his heels and went about binding his leg.

The Legion… they brought me out here.

They had a navy of triremes, comprised out of the scrap hulls of ancient boats, and sent off the Mexican coast south of the Arizona border. Randall had risen in the ranks, although he wasn’t welcome. He’d just managed to fight his way to the top, defeating anyone who stood in his way. Before then he was a criminal, and before then he was a nobody. They wanted him gone. A no-good, criminal Legate was never something anyone wanted. They told him they’d found the place he was looking for. The Paradise. It was obvious they wanted him gone. Fine. Randall’d go if need be. Better that way anyway.

''Somewhere along the way, I lost a step. I got sloppy. Dulled my own edge. Maybe I went and did the worst crime of all... I got civilized. ''

But he’d let his guard down. On the cliff, when they’d landed, and he’d overlooked the island, he heard the click of their guns and went for cover. When his knives were out he killed two of them before they even knew it was happening, and then repurposed one of the bodies as a shield. The Frumentarii who’d brought him this far solved the problem by simply collapsing the cliff.

And then the dogs had come

So now we zero the clock.

He abandoned the legion armor, the weapons, everything that marked him as a civilized man.

Just me and this no-name island.

So he climbed the mountains of the island with not even clothes on his back, starting his life over…

''Gotta find that animal side again. ''

Present day, on Pearl Island

"Do it again!" The raider demanded pounding his rifle butt on the ground.

"Of course." Steven promised, holding out his hands. The Trigger Happy Son ov'a Bitch sitting on the crate across from him slapped the handcuffs on for an eleventh time. Steven let him tighten the cuffs all the way. Once they were shackled he demonstrated that the handcuffs were indeed on tightly, and even when he pulled with all his might, they didn't loosen. The raider watched with intense eyes. Despite his limited vocabulary, Steven knew that this brigand was most definitely not an idiot. He was trying to learn how Steven did it, likely so he could learn the trick himself, or perhaps devise a way so the handcuffs would be impossible to escape.

"Alright, now, watch closely." Steven intoned, holding his arms before him. "You just might-"  His hands were a blur as he sudden jerked his arm back and to the sides, "-miss it."

The handcuffs hung losely, dangling from one wrist.

"How?" The raider asked, dumbfounded for the twelth time now.

Steven smiled slyly. "Can't tell you.  A magician and his secrets and all that."

The raider narrows his eyes, tightening his grip on his rifle. He reached over to grab his beer and poor it through a corner of his mouth, never looking away from Steven.

"But,"  Steven corrected. "There is one trick I can show you.  Here, reshackle my wrist."

The slaver did so, pulling out the key and unlocking the cuffs just to lock them again as his fassen Stevens free wrist, watching the illusionist with narrowed eyes the entire time. They both knew the raider intended to kill Steven or enslave him and take him back to the raider camp at some point, but Steven had been entirely cooperative so far. The raider was expecting Steven to try to escape, or perhaps fight. The Trigger Happy Son ov'a Bitch had no idea how to deal with someone who seemed to enjoy being captive.

"Now, hold out your own arms."

The raider did so.

"Now watch closely." Steven said, holding up his arms as well. "You just might-" he jerked his arms forwards and then tugged them back.

He held his wrists, which were free of the handcuffs. "-miss it."

The raider looked down at his own arms, which were now cuffed. "What the- you son of a bitch!"

"Actually that's you." Steven corrected, standing up and dusting his hands off against each other, unconcerned.

"Smug bastard." The raider growled, launching to his feet. "I can still strangle y- oof!" The raider face planted straight into the ground, unable to stand as his boots were tied tightly together. The raider groaned, his vision spotty. "How did you-"

"I was going to tell you, but it wasn't really an accident that I dropped my cigarette when that hawk flew overhead."

"Dirty no good piece of shit." The radier grumbled as he reached down to untie his boots. Steven hadn't moved an inch, not even going for the rifle that lay on the ground a foot away.

"That's a constricter knot." The illusionist told the raider as the latter tugged at his shoes. "I give you a one in ten chance of untying it."

"Fuck you." The raider retorted, giving up on the knot and pulling his boots off, having a difficult time given the restricted movement of his hands.

Steven raised his brows, amused. "Oh, good idea, that's one way to go about it."

"Shut up." The raider grumbled, standing up, barefoot, and smiled triumphantly  "Now I'm going to enjoy this." He said, taking a lunging step forwards.

Steven reached out, picked the beer bottle up, and then threw it down at the ground with it broke into many small but equally sharp pieces. "Not as much as me, I'm afraid." The magician replied, as quick of wit as he was.

The raider ran right through the shattered fragments, opening dozens of incisions all across the bottom of his feet. Dufrey stepped aside as the raider stumbled past and collapsed to the ground, cursing.

"I'll feed you your own eyes!  I'll cut off your fingers and where'em around my neck!  You- you fucking little shit!" The raider stammered.

"Good luck with that." Steven walked over to the raider's rifle, picked it up, and then looked down the sights at the bandit on the ground. The man froze, in the middle of pulling glass shards from his toes.

"I could kill you right now." Steven said, throwing the rifle aside like a frisbee. It flew through the air, hit the ground, and skid to a stop some thirty feet away. "Crawl to the rifle and fire it into the air when you're done not bleeding to death, it'll draw your friends."

Steven turned and began the walk back in the direction of Pearl City.

"Please don't try to find me." He called over his shoulder. "You were an attentive audience, don't get me wrong, but I prefer a crowd that doesn't pay in lead!"