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Description
DO NOT FAVE-FARM!!

Character and story is copyright of me and FelgrandKnight34!! Do not steal!

(***)

There is a certain calm in the night air, some strange difference that separates it from the sun-soaked air of the day, that I have come to love. In my line of work, the dark is truly your friend, shrouding you from sight and making those who respect it invisible.

I see my target, high upon the brick wall, his rifle in hand, and I swear I could see the glint in my eyes reflect off of my mirrored aviators. These guerrilla fighters have taken refuge in this little shop, keeping to the rooftops to plot their little rebellion. I have nothing against them or their work, and in fact, I agree wholeheartedly with them that their regime is run by the greedy and apathetic and worth a revolution. But I am not here to stop nor start a war, I must remind myself as I draw my blade from its sheath; I am just here to do my job. And my job, at least tonight, is just one man.

Tonight is my big night.

With a careful leap, I reach with all I have, holding on with one hand for dear life and trying to keep my knees and feet from making a sound by impacting against the wall. I wait, still, holding on close. He does not hear me. He is lost in thought, or concentration, which certainly suits me fine.

Behind my mask, I exhale slowly, softly. This is it. This is the moment. It has to be done now, when everything has lined up just perfectly, and done fast, before anyone can hear or see me. I may be well shrouded in shadows now, but up on top, the moonlight can betray me. Besides, there is always the chance some passerby or, worse, another guard, with good eyes will happen to spot me if I waste anymore time hanging here.

Swinging my body in an arc, I feel my leg connect with the edge of the rooftop as I pull myself up, my other leg going underneath to land standing behind him. I squeeze my blade tight and lunge forward. I have rehearsed this a thousand times, practised it a thousand more. My left arm wraps around him to clutch his mouth shut and restrict his movement. My right, angled, thrusts forward to meet with his back. I feel the fabric and flesh yield as I slip the knife in, up at a decent angle, just between two back ribs. With one of the lungs penetrated, the victim loses consciousness quite quickly, and is less likely to scream. It is a vicious death, but a quick one. I believe that it is better to do these things quickly, not to protect the victim from pain; dead is dead, after all. I just do not want to inspire any vengeful potential survivors; I have enough to deal with without that sort of aggravation.

He lets out a gasp of shock and pain, stifled by my gloved hand, as he tenses up. This is normal, I would imagine, and in just a moment, he will grow limp again. He drops his rifle. I could catch it if I wanted, balance it on one of my feet, but that would put me too off-guard with him and there is always a chance he may surprise me; besides, nobody will hear it anyways through a thick roof reinforced to handle explosions.

It only takes two seconds. I lean forward, feeling the last of his life fade, seeing his roll up and glaze and, with a soft whisper like the faintest of winds, I speak to him to the last sound he will ever hear as I let him fall, let the blade leave his body. “Let go.”

Tonight is my big night. Tonight, by taking my first life, by completing my first kill, I have become one of them. Tonight, my initiation into the most elite of assassins and mercenaries is complete at the ripe young age of fifteen years old. Tonight, I am one step closer to taking all I have learned and planting this knife into the back of the only one it truly belongs in.

Soon, father. Soon your little boy will come home. Soon he will show you what he learned.

(***)

So... combine waking up super, super, super freaking early and not being able to go back to sleep with a sudden mad overwhelming desire to draw when all you got is a ballpoint pen and a napkin and a half available... and you get this little addition to my gallery.
The Blood Legionnaires, the ultimate assassins of my EATHS world, have a very specific belief; that you must enter their world truly by taking your first life. Maybe it's in a grand duel, maybe it's on your first mission, maybe it's just in an execution. But once you do that, you become one of them; the true masters of the world, the lords of life and death. And our masked student here, young Levi Veikko, only fifteen at the time of this series of vignettes? He's just on his way to become the first-placer, the top... number One.

Description
DO NOT FAVE-FARM!!

Character and story is copyright of me and FelgrandKnight34!! Do not steal!

(***)

There is a certain calm in the night air, some strange difference that separates it from the sun-soaked air of the day, that I have come to love. In my line of work, the dark is truly your friend, shrouding you from sight and making those who respect it invisible.

I see my target, high upon the brick wall, his rifle in hand, and I swear I could see the glint in my eyes reflect off of my mirrored aviators. These guerrilla fighters have taken refuge in this little shop, keeping to the rooftops to plot their little rebellion. I have nothing against them or their work, and in fact, I agree wholeheartedly with them that their regime is run by the greedy and apathetic and worth a revolution. But I am not here to stop nor start a war, I must remind myself as I draw my blade from its sheath; I am just here to do my job. And my job, at least tonight, is just one man.

Tonight is my big night.

With a careful leap, I reach with all I have, holding on with one hand for dear life and trying to keep my knees and feet from making a sound by impacting against the wall. I wait, still, holding on close. He does not hear me. He is lost in thought, or concentration, which certainly suits me fine.

Behind my mask, I exhale slowly, softly. This is it. This is the moment. It has to be done now, when everything has lined up just perfectly, and done fast, before anyone can hear or see me. I may be well shrouded in shadows now, but up on top, the moonlight can betray me. Besides, there is always the chance some passerby or, worse, another guard, with good eyes will happen to spot me if I waste anymore time hanging here.

Swinging my body in an arc, I feel my leg connect with the edge of the rooftop as I pull myself up, my other leg going underneath to land standing behind him. I squeeze my blade tight and lunge forward. I have rehearsed this a thousand times, practised it a thousand more. My left arm wraps around him to clutch his mouth shut and restrict his movement. My right, angled, thrusts forward to meet with his back. I feel the fabric and flesh yield as I slip the knife in, up at a decent angle, just between two back ribs. With one of the lungs penetrated, the victim loses consciousness quite quickly, and is less likely to scream. It is a vicious death, but a quick one. I believe that it is better to do these things quickly, not to protect the victim from pain; dead is dead, after all. I just do not want to inspire any vengeful potential survivors; I have enough to deal with without that sort of aggravation.

He lets out a gasp of shock and pain, stifled by my gloved hand, as he tenses up. This is normal, I would imagine, and in just a moment, he will grow limp again. He drops his rifle. I could catch it if I wanted, balance it on one of my feet, but that would put me too off-guard with him and there is always a chance he may surprise me; besides, nobody will hear it anyways through a thick roof reinforced to handle explosions.

It only takes two seconds. I lean forward, feeling the last of his life fade, seeing his roll up and glaze and, with a soft whisper like the faintest of winds, I speak to him to the last sound he will ever hear as I let him fall, let the blade leave his body. “Let go.”

Tonight is my big night. Tonight, by taking my first life, by completing my first kill, I have become one of them. Tonight, my initiation into the most elite of assassins and mercenaries is complete at the ripe young age of fifteen years old. Tonight, I am one step closer to taking all I have learned and planting this knife into the back of the only one it truly belongs in.

Soon, father. Soon your little boy will come home. Soon he will show you what he learned.

(***)

So... combine waking up super, super, super freaking early and not being able to go back to sleep with a sudden mad overwhelming desire to draw when all you got is a ballpoint pen and a napkin and a half available... and you get this little addition to my gallery.
The Blood Legionnaires, the ultimate assassins of my EATHS world, have a very specific belief; that you must enter their world truly by taking your first life. Maybe it's in a grand duel, maybe it's on your first mission, maybe it's just in an execution. But once you do that, you become one of them; the true masters of the world, the lords of life and death. And our masked student here, young Levi Veikko, only fifteen at the time of this series of vignettes? He's just on his way to become the first-placer, the top... number One.