Oh how he loathes him. That smug fucking bastard.. Who does he think he is? Mild mannered Creighton's ass.
"Your a silly little bastard, aren't you?"
Pate coo'd in that sweet and sultry voice of his. Smooth as chocolate, warm as the summer wind. Fucker.
Creighton grits his teeth as Pate lifts his chin up with his own axe. Those dark barrels of rootbeer which reflect none but the very darkness they hold, they gaze upon Creighton like a hungry beast. A tad sunken, whether from being undead or lack of sleep, Creighton will only hate those brown iris'.
Pate was more than what he let's on.. Bastard was strong for how he looked, Creighton will give the bugger that.. And the murderer knew Pate for the conniving, slippery little rat he was, a dirty fuckin thief, petty as he was lazy.. On 'a treasure hunt' pssh! Hogwash.
"I didn't think you were so stupid as to fall for this measly trap i set up.. And here you are. Caught in the spider's web."
Pate hums, the usual disinterested look upon that smug, handsome face is over taken by a playful light in his eyes, and something playfully sick twisted in with his grin. Creighton glares at him with sharp icey blues.
"Shut tha fuck up if ye kno what's good for ye.."
Creighton snarls. His hands angrily form fists, chainmail digs into chainmail in a mild fit of rage, as Pate completely subdued him.
You see, Creighton ended strung up in a tree like a fresh hunt to dry, by his ankles. His axe became confiscated and Pate came laughing unto the scene.
Surpised that Creighton ended up in such a trap, he was amazed the murder didn't catch such an.. Obvious set up.
Pate bound his hands with chains, it was uncomfortable at best. Scuffing his wrists, while being humiliated by this fucker. And then he was cut down, like strung up jerky.
Pate chuckles at him.
"Im afraid you don't know what's good for me, my dear.. Intimidation doesn't work when your the one who's captured."
Pate smartly repeats, knowing Creighton can't do shit to him.
"You ain't captured shit! When i get my fuckin hands on you.. Cheeky prick.."
Venom practically dripped from each word the Mirrah man replied with.
"Ooh~ Im practically shaking."
Pate dully replies with a smile. He let's the murderers own axe caress the tight linked chainmail on his neck, creating a horrid little sound. Creighton sneers at the sound.
"Agh-.. Would you fuckin quit that!"
Pate's grin turns up more.
"Don't like it? What will you do to have me stop?"
Creighton cringes as Pate makes the same awful noise again. Metal on metal, cold screeching steel. And just that little zap of electricity- from the axe meant to slay dragons, turned into a murderer of men.
"Gah-!! Please!"
Gods, it felt so wrong for Creighton, the wandering killer from Mirrah, to beg this lowlife scum..
"Mmh, Good boy.. Beg for it~"
Pate hums gleefully, ceasing the grinding of metal. Creighton snarls at him from under his metal mask.
"I fuckin 'ate you... When i get my axe back you'll be a sorry fucker.."
"Hmhm.. Oh will i? Hm.. Your not very good at being a hostage. Your not even squirming.. Completely helpless and you dare not even attempt to try and help yourself."
Creighton was about to spit back at Pate, but he was suddenly kicked over, or, nudged by Pate's leg. The murderer lands face first into the dirt, sending his mask flying. It clatters against the ground, before laying lifeless.
Creighton, now laying front down against the ground, feels Pate's hand come down to the back of his neck, effectively pinning him. His icey blue eyes widen and he lets out a noise.
"You know how this will end, Creighton.. Don't you? This silly little game of cat and mouse.. But im not the mouse."
Pate coos. Creighton snarls back.
"Yer no fuckin' cat.. Yer a slimy damn rat.. I'll kill ya- I'll kill ya so fast ye won't even kna what 'it ya.."
Pate laughs at him, and hums smugly, his fingers curling around from the back of Creighton's neck. He gasps as he can feel the hard leather gloves of Pate's nimble fingers pressing into the sides of his throat.
"I know you, you chase me like a desperate hound in heat.. You don't want your ring anymore, do you?"
"AN WHA IF I DON'T?!"
Pate's eyes go wide at suddenly Creighton yelling at him. 'Oh my fucking lord...' Is all he can think. He was right? Damn. Not a first, but he was just messing with Creighton.
Sure they had some past, in Mirrah. Pate was traveling through, a young man, just as devilishly handsome as he is now. He's part of how Creighton escaped his sentence.. The murderer didn't just break out on his own.
Of course, two men alone on a rigorous journey to nowhere, there has to be some form of entertainment. Exploring the other's body, in a heated moment of longing that neither knew they harboured. It didn't go too far- usually one shoved the other off of him before anything could progress.
Pate laughs.
"You can't possibly be serious, can you? You really don't want your ring back?"
"...."
Creighton really just fucked himself over, didn't he?
"When you untie me.. I'll fuckin kill you.."
Pate can't help but laugh again.
"Ahaha~ Ah, ah, ah~ You didn't answer the question my dear. I know you wish to see me dead, but goodness, have you fallen for me or something? Have you hit your head recently?"
"Have you hit your head recently, ye twit?"
