"Too many open doors." Ki mused as his mismatched eyes watched his blood ooze down his wrist and muscles forearm. Ki's left hand was slowly digging the point of his large bowie knife into the palm of his hand. The running crimson made him lick his lips as he pulled the point of the knife free. A single line of blood traced its way down the metal blade.
A small piece of shrapnel fell free of the wound and bounced on the earthen floor of the small building Ki was sitting in. The miqo'te flexed his bleeding appendage to make sure there was no remaining shrapnel with in his flesh.Â
Satisfied the was not, the male took the blade and licked it clean with his rough tongue; the salty, metallic flavor of the fluid remaining in his mouth after he had swallowed it.
"Far too many open doors." Ki repeated, putting the knife down. He took the bottle of whiskey beside the blade and splashed some of the amber liquid onto the wound. His face tightened and he grunted before he proceeded to pick up a roll of gauze and bandage his wound.
"First Beardy, now Memith, Sis, and Orenji. So many sources of gil, so many people to kill. So many chances for surprises." Ki ran his bloody tongue over his lips as he continued talking to himself "Two million for Flynt, the pleasure of Rae's demise, and a hundred more besides. I'm not going to be able to spend it all."
Ki thought back on the past few weeks. The alliance, wars, and inevitable conflicts he had been drawn into. And through it all, gil kept pouring into his lap. He was starting to feel lucky.
Ki narrowed his eyes.
Lucky. That was a dangerous feeling. Every time he had felt lucky in the past, something bad had always followed. The high before the low. And right now Ki had too many balls up in the air to keep his eyes on them all and anticipate the inevitable surprises.
Though he was less afraid of the coming low. Most people he knew, he could stab in the back easily. Some he would even relish in the chance. And the few he might hesitate to remove by his own mechanations were held so remotely from his emotions that their demise would be recoverable.Â
Least that's what Ki hoped
Emotions had a funny way of defying his objective and materialistic mindset and if he wasn't careful, he would fall prey to them once again. And right now, he had plenty of people trying to claw those emotions out of him. People who wanted to care about him even though he kept telling them to knock it off and stick with just paying him for his blood money. He had no intention of caring for anyone and watch them get ripped from him ever again.
Ki grunted and took a chug from his bottle.
"Only gil, only business, I'm only a dog of war." Ki muttered, taking swallow after swallow of the burning fluid until his emotions were numb and all that mattered was the coin he earned by doing others dirty work. Nothing else.
A small piece of shrapnel fell free of the wound and bounced on the earthen floor of the small building Ki was sitting in. The miqo'te flexed his bleeding appendage to make sure there was no remaining shrapnel with in his flesh.Â
Satisfied the was not, the male took the blade and licked it clean with his rough tongue; the salty, metallic flavor of the fluid remaining in his mouth after he had swallowed it.
"Far too many open doors." Ki repeated, putting the knife down. He took the bottle of whiskey beside the blade and splashed some of the amber liquid onto the wound. His face tightened and he grunted before he proceeded to pick up a roll of gauze and bandage his wound.
"First Beardy, now Memith, Sis, and Orenji. So many sources of gil, so many people to kill. So many chances for surprises." Ki ran his bloody tongue over his lips as he continued talking to himself "Two million for Flynt, the pleasure of Rae's demise, and a hundred more besides. I'm not going to be able to spend it all."
Ki thought back on the past few weeks. The alliance, wars, and inevitable conflicts he had been drawn into. And through it all, gil kept pouring into his lap. He was starting to feel lucky.
Ki narrowed his eyes.
Lucky. That was a dangerous feeling. Every time he had felt lucky in the past, something bad had always followed. The high before the low. And right now Ki had too many balls up in the air to keep his eyes on them all and anticipate the inevitable surprises.
Though he was less afraid of the coming low. Most people he knew, he could stab in the back easily. Some he would even relish in the chance. And the few he might hesitate to remove by his own mechanations were held so remotely from his emotions that their demise would be recoverable.Â
Least that's what Ki hoped
Emotions had a funny way of defying his objective and materialistic mindset and if he wasn't careful, he would fall prey to them once again. And right now, he had plenty of people trying to claw those emotions out of him. People who wanted to care about him even though he kept telling them to knock it off and stick with just paying him for his blood money. He had no intention of caring for anyone and watch them get ripped from him ever again.
Ki grunted and took a chug from his bottle.
"Only gil, only business, I'm only a dog of war." Ki muttered, taking swallow after swallow of the burning fluid until his emotions were numb and all that mattered was the coin he earned by doing others dirty work. Nothing else.
