#The thrill of the hunt || Tardif IC

[accusedofsin]

[a continuation of this because the thread got very scuffed for the mun]

Never run from a dog. Never turn back on a man. Here, both applied.

Dismas stood his ground, cocking an eyebrow.

"Loud words fer s'meone he can snap like a dry twig. But 'm glad yer eyes are workin' fine t' call him pretty."

Rey was friends with Tardif...? Now that was an unpleasant development of events.

[bulwark-of-hope]

hey Ray, Tardif! Did you know that people have been calling Crime Boi a "poor little mew mew"?

*hands over a note with an explanation of the reference.*

"That's Reynauld for you, thank you very much." Reynauld huffed. His nickname was only reserved for a few special people and not some random person on the street.

Tardif just snorted and held up the note so Reynauld could read it too. "People really be calling him that?" he asked the crusader.

Who in return just shrugged "Does he know?" he wondered, because he wasn't sure if Dismas was okay with people calling him a poor little something.

"I'd call him filthy little rat." the bounty hunter sneered.

Reynauld rolled his eyes "We know Tardif, we know."

[accusedofsin]

[for @bulwark-of-hope]

Dismas sighed, trying to shake off sluggishness. He hated waking up early - early being anytime before noon at the very least. But Sanatorium had a strict visiting hours policy, and there was no way in hell he'd prefer something as stupid as sleeping (especially sleeping alone, for fuck's sake) to visiting Reynauld as the crusader was recovering.

That ghoul got them all by surprise, yet Dismas still blamed himself for that ambush. Where were his bandit senses when the skull-rattling thing appeared? Yeah, he tried his best to disarm a trap at the time, concentrating on having his fingers not snapped off, and maybe that cultist acolyte had to do something about their silent appearance, but...

Rey took that hit for him. That much was obvious. And despite his fancy tin shirt, it got him good - the rogue himself, with his light armor, wouldn't have stood up from that rend, most likely. The highwayman remembered the stench of blood and his own desperate, rage-fueled lunges against the beast. He remembered his blind panic of Reynauld not making it out alive, too.

Thank his god, the crusader was one sturdy bastard. Neat stitches, clean bandage, a bit of holy magic - and he was almost as good as new. Almost.

Hence Dismas was visiting him now, on each morning of his recovery period, bringing some meager treats he could cobble up and keeping the knight company till he was all but tossed out by the grumpy nurses when the visiting hours ended.

Today was no different. Apart from the rogue's whiskey flask being filled not with his usual poison but with stout. He overheard that the doctors said that his crusader was making great progress in his recovery, and wanted to bring him something nice to celebrate it. Why were the visiting hours so ungodly early though, was beyond Dismas. Couldn't they start at... at least at noon for fuck's sake...

[bulwark-of-hope]

Tardif: Am I going too far?

Reynauld: Oh no, you went too far about 7 hours ago

[bulwark-of-hope]

 @darkestscalpel​ said:  "So are you gonna bleed out or do you want me to patch you up?"

                                                  ----

The bounty hunter just grunted as a response, but noticed quickly that the beaked doctor did not speak ‘gruff bounty hunter’ and nodded “Yea, just... patch me up.” he muttered and started to undress, which took a while. The dagger had managed to find a way through all of his protective layers. This god damn Highwayman had more luck than brains.

[bulwark-of-hope]

@everdaring​ said:  "Grump." The Spark has clocked Tardif as annoyable. Now he's got to deal with the consequences of her having fun.

The bounty hunter just grunted in agreement, he was a grump, nothing to deny about that. What was she going to do about it?

[bulwark-of-hope]

In correspondence to this

@darkestscalpel said: Offended Ques noises. "What do you mean yo left two of my favourite people behind!?!"

“They made it out alive.” Tardif shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. The mission had been botched from the start, he told them to abandon it, they didn’t listen, he left them. Easy as that.

[bulwark-of-hope]

I dough think this is a good idea, there's too much margarine for error.

"I'm moved to tiers." Tardif answered without looking up from the wanted poster he was currently studying.

[bulwark-of-hope]

@intentosolenne cont. from here

« nnnno, i’m nnnot. ». yes, yes he is.     since their return from the dungeon, reynauld has been feeling the particularly strong need to not think for a while, not even at the punishment he should be giving himself for how cowardly ( according to his crusader training ) he has been when insisting with the group to go back, instead of continuing to walk towards a path of certain death. and so he eventually ended at the pub, he started drinking a beer  ——  then another, then another, and as someone not really used to drink, he was already well gone. yet, he ordered the fourth one, now in his unsteady hands.

if he’ll manage to actually drink it, or if he’ll spill it all on the floor, that’s all to see.

« i’m-i’m perfectly lucid, ready for ach... tion. action, there, that-that’s the word. ». one hand lifts, index finger pointing at tardif. « a crrrusader’s aaalways ready, didn’ they tell you? if-if-if i were drunk, i would be shattering my fathrr... father’s honour! ». he suddenly laugh - a very short, brief, maybe a bit suffering laughter, before falling back in his dizzy state. « not that i care that much. » he adds, before drinking from his glass. or, trying to, at least.

Oh yes, this guy was three sheets to the wind. Now Tardif wondered why he asked in the first place. He hated to state the obvious but maybe he just tried to gauge how far gone Reynauld was. It was so far, that Tardif even considered taking away that drink from him. Then again, the crusader was old enough to make his own mistakes.  

The bounty hunter snorted, it sounded like the knight had a lot to unpack. Well, if he wanted to spill his guts, he could, Tardif was a good listener, he only despised talking himself. 

“Your father ain’t here, choir boy, no need to keep up an appearance.” they were all delinquents, runaways and scoundrels here, no need to keep up the holier-than-tho charade. Everyone here could just... be.

[bulwark-of-hope]

If you're even admitting that you could, then what's stopping you from collaring the rat, bounty hunter? Oh, are you actually afraid of the choir boy?

Corresponding to this

Afraid? Tardif barked a laugh. "You don't know shit 'bout me an' choir boy." he huffed. He was not afraid of getting a beating from Reynauld, they had brawled countless times, that's just how they rolled. They knew how they could take each other out, knew each other's weaknesses and strong points. It was just a matter of luck or fate that would show who would be the victor.

No, it wasn't that.

But Tardif was indeed afraid.

Afraid to lose his only friend.

[bulwark-of-hope]

Tardif has quite an obsession with rats. And here I thought he'd be after some bigger game. So much of a hunter

Rats? No, no only one rat!

But the stranger was out of luck today. The bounty hunter had been peeved from the start of the day and this poor fucker had the audacity to question his abilities? Bad mistake.

"How 'bout you say that again, without ya teeth?" he snarled and lunged at the person, grabbing them by the throat and starting to punch their ugly mug in with his fist.

[bulwark-of-hope]

“At least I’m not a filthy rat.”

[bulwark-of-hope]

*snickers* "you act like this is the first time someones thrown up on you bounty hunter"

(Sorry bout before, fat fingered the wrong button)

"If you say so. You seem to have more experience under your belt in that regard." Tardif said slowly. It was certainly not the first time, it was annoying, and he definitely would make Dismas lick it up again. He would save cost on cleaning his gear like that.

[bulwark-of-hope]

You can always beat the scoundrel into wearing the collar, Tardif. And hide it underneath the neckerchief. The rat doesn't take it off much anyway, right?

It wouldn't be much fun though, if nobody saw it. This little claim he would make on the Highwayman. But like this, Reynauld wouldn't come for his ass. On the other hand, he would come for it sooner or later anyway, so who would give a fuck?

"I could." he said, just cover for now. He could always decide on what to do later.

[bulwark-of-hope]

Tardif, you're a sugar babe confirmed now uwu I don't make them rules. So... where are your thongs I can shove money in?

It was true, Tardif valued money a great deal, but he valued his self-worth more. He would not stoop so low to prostitute himself. But maybe he knew someone who would..

"Wrong address buddy. Try the sewer rat or the red-head. Got more luck with those." one had no shame and one was always willing. Who was who? Was it important? No. Did Tardif care? Also no.

"Now scramble, or I take some molars as payment for the time ya wastin'."

[bulwark-of-hope]

Reynauld: When's the last time you slept?

Tardif: Uh... a few days ago, I think.

Reynauld: A few- how many?!

Tardif: Uh... *starts counting on fingers* I need more fingers...

Reynauld: What you need is sleep!