Turn the other cheek

[Mandaz]

Continued from here http://www.xeneth.net/urpc/index.php?topic=2914.0

The sight made the one eyed man raise his brows in curiosity, before he flinched upon hearing the sickening noise of his own organ being mashed beneath those fine shoes. He could feel it, bursting in a water-balloon fashion; it was still his, after all. Why should he not have been able to feel it? Just because their physical attachment had been severed, he still had a mental and emotional attachment to the orb. Markus was quite fond of his grey eyes. With his expression dropping a bit and a sigh he took a seat next to his newfound enemy at the bar. Seems there would be nothing better to do than to grow a new eye. However, that could wait until he wanted to show off.

He perked up a little once Dario ordered for him. If there was anything better than a drink it was a free drink.

“A glass of milk too. If ya don’t mind.” He called out to the bartender, limiting himself to only a glass.

While waiting for their drinks to arrive Markus looked over Dario with his good eye, wondering how to force his hand. Lots of people around, and according to what he knew about his hit he had been missing for a while. So now the question was whether or not he was a secluded man, with no ties to these people…or was he a highly adored public figure by now? Best ease his way into a brawl. Maybe bait him into looking like the trouble maker.

“Say, friend. Care for a gentlemanly challenge? We’re two able bodied gents with nuthin but our wits and strengths about us. Let’s play a little game.”

Markus turned to face Dario, propping his elbow up on the bar while flexing his fingers.

“Battle of arms, whad’ya say?” He grinned

[Syntaphar]

Dario would arch an eyebrow and smile. It was fairly obvious that this Marcus fellow was quite a bit more than your average citygoer, as he had just alluded to one of Dario's aces. It was too random of a challenge to be entirely random. This made Dario a bit relieved, as he had just ordered a special cocktail for him. He would oblige though, and put his arm on the table. "All right then, sir." he would say, "But I must insist that the gloves I am aearing stay on. They are... lucky, you see. It would break tradition to remove them before tuesday."

While Dario was making things up, Markus might notice something odd. As the sleeve on the uplifted arm dropped, a bit of skin would show from beneath that was entirely a different color from the trenchcoated man's skin color. In fact, it looked like an arm that would be more at home on a native Xexorian. Meanwhile, the bartender would bring up three drinks: One milk, one nondescript alcoholic beverage and one "special" drink for Markus. It was infused with a toxin taken from the skin of a deadly salamander found in the nearby wilderness. While not toxic to humans, per se, it would have the dual effect of partially paralyzing the imbiber and relaxing him enough to be in a very truthful state for a while. Dario would thank the bartender and prepare to take on his assassin's "Battle of Arms".

[Mandaz]

“Lucky, huh? Wouldn’t dream of making this unfair. You’re gonna need all the luck you can get.”

He said with a sly smile. Markus took the glass of milk almost immediately after it was brought to him, chugging it down with sickening speed, tonguing the drops at the edge of his glass, eager to inhale every last bit. Seemingly unsatisfied and still thirsty, he moved onto the other glass brought to him.

Alcohol. He wasn’t as voracious as he was with the milk, and only took a few sips. It didn’t move down as smoothly as the milk, and he winced a bit at the new, burning sensation in his mouth. He soon smiled afterwards though, grabbing onto his opponent’s hand tightly. He laced his naked fingers through Dario’s gloved ones. The leather acting as a small barrier between their fleshes, a thin bit of fabric between their touches. Markus was of an average build. Not too scrawny, it looked like he had seen his share of hard labor, yet there was no way he was a body builder.

“On three. Better be ready. One…Two…Three…”

[Syntaphar]

Dario couldn't help but smile at how confident this hitman was in a room full of people he didn't know, against a man that may or may not have ill will towards him. Either way, all Dario had to do was keep him occupied until the poison took effect. Nonchalantly, before truly committing to the contest, he would scrape a stubborn slick spot of his shoe onto the bar. Meanwhile, he was hoping that the backup weapon hidden in his leather gloves didn't poke through and give him fully away. And luckily, his right arm currently was indeed that of a bodybuilder.

He had attached it not long ago, having taken it from a particularly unwilling Xexorian strongman. As such, his right arm was much more well-toned than his left, taken from a recently deceased textile merchant from Algeroth. And although the sleeves on the coat were not at all skin tight, it still showed rather obviously. Nevertheless, when the "three" came along, Dario would start to push at a guaging pace, to see how strong this fellow actually was.