Axel King
Oct 15th, 2003, 06:29:07 AM
Axel had grown tired of the atmosphere in the bar. It was dull. He was bored. So, in his infinate wisdom, he'd decided to take a stroll. Not that the surrounding streets were much more pleasant than the bar itself...but, as they always said, a change is as good as a break, right?
As Axel wandered down a particularly average-looking by-street, he had the strangest feeling...like he was being followed. As he turned, he discovered that he was right. What was even more annoying was the fact that there were also people moving towards him from the front, and from one side, hearding him towards a ferrocrete wall. "Not good," Axel muttered to himself.
"Can I help you?" he yelled, as the gang completed it's semi-circle around him.
"Yes, Mr King," a voice called back.
"We were sent by Fierra," another voice added. "Fierra the Hutt."
"Ah," Axel replied, the seriousness of the situation dawning on him. "This isn't a social visit then, I take it."
"No," answered a particularly deep and menacing voice. "Strictly business."
"How would you like to be remembered, Mr King?" One of the nearer gang-members flashed him an evil smile. "Space burial, cremation, or carbon-freezing?"
"Hmm," Axel muttered, pondering. "How about I kill you all, and then go home?"
Most of the gang burst out in varying degrees of histerical laughter. "Very funny, Mr King. I'd like to see you try."
"You expect me to just lay down and die?" Axel's hands crept towards his two swords.
"No, Mr King, I expect you to resist to the bitter end."
"Good. At least we understand each other." With one fluid motion, Axel drew both swords and, after swining the one in his right-hand around so that it was held blade downwards, he brought the hilts together, twisted the bayonet fitting, and spun the newly formed two-bladed sword around his head, finishing with it gripped firmly in his left hand, behind his back, one blade pointing to the floor, and the other pressed firmly against his upper arm. With his free hand, he beconed the gang forwards. "Come and get me," he called.
As Axel wandered down a particularly average-looking by-street, he had the strangest feeling...like he was being followed. As he turned, he discovered that he was right. What was even more annoying was the fact that there were also people moving towards him from the front, and from one side, hearding him towards a ferrocrete wall. "Not good," Axel muttered to himself.
"Can I help you?" he yelled, as the gang completed it's semi-circle around him.
"Yes, Mr King," a voice called back.
"We were sent by Fierra," another voice added. "Fierra the Hutt."
"Ah," Axel replied, the seriousness of the situation dawning on him. "This isn't a social visit then, I take it."
"No," answered a particularly deep and menacing voice. "Strictly business."
"How would you like to be remembered, Mr King?" One of the nearer gang-members flashed him an evil smile. "Space burial, cremation, or carbon-freezing?"
"Hmm," Axel muttered, pondering. "How about I kill you all, and then go home?"
Most of the gang burst out in varying degrees of histerical laughter. "Very funny, Mr King. I'd like to see you try."
"You expect me to just lay down and die?" Axel's hands crept towards his two swords.
"No, Mr King, I expect you to resist to the bitter end."
"Good. At least we understand each other." With one fluid motion, Axel drew both swords and, after swining the one in his right-hand around so that it was held blade downwards, he brought the hilts together, twisted the bayonet fitting, and spun the newly formed two-bladed sword around his head, finishing with it gripped firmly in his left hand, behind his back, one blade pointing to the floor, and the other pressed firmly against his upper arm. With his free hand, he beconed the gang forwards. "Come and get me," he called.