Sven's best friend, a fellow mercenary, stood beside him at the job board, rattling off their options.
The brown coloured paper pinned on the wooden pole flutters to the gentle and cold breeze.
Sven's pale complexion gives out a spectral vibe, a feathery knight basking the holy light who laments to his own personal thoughts. His white eyes distant and unfocused making him seem mysterious and unapproachable. His white hair, meshed together and unkempt waves to the silent air.
Moving to the job board, Sven strides in his brown leather tunic attuned with iron components, black and thin pants with the bottom of the sleeve tucked underneath his brown, steel capped, leather boots.
Placing his leather gloved palms upon a job offer, Sven quietly murmurs, "Lets do this one."
Ripping off the piece of paper from its pin, Sven and his partner, Jensen, a brown haired, tall and masculine male wearing the same outfits, approached to an unclaimed table.
Jensen asked, "Sven, after this mission is over, can I borrow 1000 gillards again?"
Sven looks at Jensen with indifference. "When are you going to pay my other 1000 gillards?" He tone quiet and soothing, but yet the tone was quite off putting.
Jensen doesn't want to reveal his darkened face, he quietly asks again, "Its for my medical bills. They asked for exactly 1000 gillards."
The tension between these two was thick, ice cubed blocks were metaphorically placed in between these two.
Sven who seems emotionally detached, wonders, "Why must you lie to my face when we are partners?"
A subtle gulp, a sound Sven noticed with keen senses, he then thought to himself.
'Why must you fall for such inconvenience in life. The wins will never be taken out, but rather, used for more unethical practices.'
A soft sigh slowly leaves from his rose coloured lips, Sven questioned, "You told me it would be your last one. Why must you succumb to the encroaching darkness which looms at your desires?" Sven whisper-like tone puts Jensen in a tight and unsettling position.
The sweat trickles across Jensen's uneased expression, but yet he wishes not to reveal the faces that he was making.
"There isn't a need for us partners to delve into each other's businesses, am I right?"Â
"That sounds like a relationship between strangers." Sven's white, unfocused gaze pierces through the window beside him.
Jensen lets out a gruff, his brows narrowly pointing in towards his tensed nose, "Come on. Its just 1000. You won't die if you hand over me just another 1000 right?. I will pay back I promise."
"You really do have a way of words. Maybe you should use those abilities to make money rather than asking for it." Sven replied, the edge of his lips creeping up.
With wide eyes, his mouth hanging low, Jensen looked at the subtle changes Sven were making with utter horror. This revelation struck him more than any other responses people have given to Jensen.
"You've changed." Jensen lowers his expression, looking down with subtle cracks in his voice.
Sven covers his mouth with one hand, yawning to the inconvenient conversation they were having.
"I think talking about your financial choices is quite boring. I'm feeling so drained and tired from listening to you."Â
Jensen's face scrunches up, his expression synonymous to a meter nearly reaching its boiling point.Â
"Hey..." He gnaws at his teeth, his face turning redder each second.
"We're partners you piece of shit! Just do what I say!"
The silence afterwards was chilling, the ice blocks that was suppose to melt against the boiling and palpable rage wanes to none.
Sven stood up, sweeping off the spit and dust and walking away towards his headed destination. Then he takes of his leather gloves and throwing behind without a change in expression.
"You can have what is left of that unneeded ego of yours, even these pair of gloves you've bought me."
Slamming the table, destroying it in half, Jensen utters short and foreboding words with his darkened face, "You will pay for wasting my time and ruining our relationship."
Hearing this declaration of unending conflict, Sven replies with a strong grip to his two one-handed axes, "Your head will fall. I will make it be the last thing I will chop if you do what you say."Â
Without knowing what Sven's face was making, Jensen spat on the snow, tucking his hands into his pockets, he walked off with his hunched posture.
Sven's face distorted, his eyes slit, a facial expression darker than the eerie nights with the Nether Beasts. His smile widens, a face so appalling, people who saw such expressions would label these people as, "The Joker."
"I can't wait for the day you will aim for my head..." Sven cheeks reddens, staring into the bright light, he feels as if he was on cloud nine.
"Because I will also come for yours..." A light and uneasing whisper, the very words escaped from his lips brought forth an impending danger.
Reimagining his the past actions, Sven dives into it quietly, as if he was enveloping his warm blanket.
---
Sitting on a steel chair within a jail cell, nailed his palms onto the armrest, the man's muffled screams and tearing eyes were in other words, beautiful.
"Like a canvas... I can wait to make a masterpiece with yours truly..." Sven's expression kept reddening, synonymous to man in the heat.
With a tray of torturing devices stained in crimson blood nearby, the victim's expression heightens to further extremes.
Gently caressing the man's fingers with his feminine hands, Sven feminine lips draws closer to the man's ear. He comfortingly whispers, "Its okay... I will be here in every step of the way..."
In response to Sven's soothing and calm voice, warm and kind gesture, the man sitting on the chair flays crazily, shaking the chair that he was on. His blood soaked eyes stare directly at Sven's joyful face, bawling his eyes out without an end.Â
"We will start with my favourite..." Sven stares directly at the man's exposed crotch with a small knife in his hand.
The blade pierces through the man's skin, his muffled scream intensifies with each moment. As time flies passed, his eyes roll back.