Not Acceptable



Written By: PapillionCameo & Artist Poison

During the day all is well, friends are made, enemies are hidden,a nd the world is as safe as it's commanded to be. Not everything is perfect, not everything is safe, but, those that are the safest, are the ones in the most danger. A hunter hunts within the night, befriends by die, but, kills without fright. He hunts and hunts until the job is done, but, what is so different about this new prey of his? Find out soon within the chapters of "Not Acceptable"

(I couldn't figure out how to start it honestly)

Anselm peered down at the unsuspecting crowd with a smile. All he needed to do was catch sight of his target and it would be easy to lure him away. He didn't care why he'd been hired, though he suspected it had something to do with magic. With a shake of his head, the cinnamon skinned man settled back onto his booted heels and rested his hands against his legs. Ripped jeans might not have been the best thing to wear in the middle of the night, but it made an impression and that was what mattered to him.

Besides, comfort was essential to his mind, which explained the casual t-shirt and jacket he wore so easily to conceal the weapons he had scattered over his person. Soon his prey would materialize, and then the fun would begin. Busy cities tended to take a while to notice someone's absence, everyone was always so wrapped up in their own matters.

Kuraon, Kuro for short, was out on his usual hunt for magical stores across the city. Once the evening would come, he would leave his house just to find a store with more magical items. He was deeply involved, especially since he learned it from his bloodline, and there would have been no way to refuse it without it destroying him in the end. Or so that's what they say. Kuro had just left the store and wandered out to the park, not many went to the park, in fear they might get hurt or attacked by someone or something.

Fear isn't one thing Kuro had for many things, he was more stubborn than anything else really, and sometimes that would be his death card. Kuro had short brown almost touching his ears, it was a dark caramel brown, and his eyes were darkened within the night. However, whenever he passed under a light, you could clearly see his eyes were green, with just a bit of a silver indicating he was a magic user, but, not very advance. He was alone as the lights were his only light and the full moon above him. It was autumn, his outfit consisted of jeans, sneakers, and the casual hoodie he normally wore.

(Kura-ron)

Anse felt a grin spread across his features as he caught sight of silvery green eyes catching the light. The mark of a mage drew him across the roof tops like a moth to a flame. It was his prey! Light blond hair had been tied back in a tight braid which fell down to the assassin's shoulder blades elegantly, but not now. Anselm was in action, running across the rooftop with the thick length of air flying behind him, and his bangs being swept from his eyes with the speed of his running.

Soon he was leaping down from a brick building and landing in a dark alley. Quick as a cat slinking after it's prey, he leaped out to capture Kuraon's arm. Before the other man could react, the assassin was slapping a bracelet onto his wrist. "Don't struggle, and don't try using your magic. The person who hired me wants you alive and well for some reason, and that means I'm not allowed to rough you up any.... No matter how much I might want to." He preferred the killing jobs to this. Anselm did so love seeing people squirm and panic once they knew they didn't have a chance anymore.

Kuraon felt the bracelet on his arm, he knew the other would be right about using his magic, however, his magic was his strongest when he was angry. "Like that would stop me" Kuraon's eyes showed determination, not to live, but, to fight back since he was so stubborn about everything he did. Right now, he was certain that even something like this wouldn't stop him "Tell your boss, I won't be going" Kuraon actually tried to activate a little...he was never good at listening to people. 'All I need is a little distraction' he thought before using his magic. Kuraon had been a mage for quote awhile now, he was training to become a sorcerer.

The assassin's laughter sounded wrong, like he wasn't quite normal. "Fine, I suppose I'll just keep you for myself then." He'd always wanted a mage plaything. All the others just broke so easily under his care. Anselm reached out with a dangerous smile and very casually gripped one of the man's fingers. "Now behave, or I'll start breaking them one by one. No one will hear you scream. I might not have magic of my own, but there are other ways." What they were, he preferred to leave to his prey's imagination. Often, they supplied him with oh so wonderful ideas for their own torment.

((I was thinking the bracelet could be a magic suppressor, if not it's a future slave marker or something of the like, your choice. ^^ That's why I didn't put in any specifics yet. And Anselm wasn't supposed to be such a ... bad guy.))

(okie dokie, that works) (my guy has an attitude :P)

"Your threats are useless against me, I don't fear anything" that was a lie, the only thing he feared was those he cared about getting hurt and he didn't keep too many of his relatives around to bother with that fear. He had a few minor ones that would make him jump, but, nothing too big. The only other fear he had, he never told anyone about it, he figured he would be tormented over it. Kuraon tried to pull away, but, he wasn't strong enough to get away, and if he did get away what would that do? Well, he was going to make it that easy on his capture, and he pulled away somehow getting the luck he needed to be able to run off, speed was his main thing he had on his side, when his magic wasn't working.

(my minds a bit tired, it should wake up soon, I haven't been home from work very long)

The hunter, for he was more that then anything else now, counted silently til he reached ten. Now the real fun began, though really letting his prey escape past the alley wasn't really all that intelligent. Anselm was rather quick himself, and so set off. The man smiled upon hearing a satisfying crunch beneath his feet as he ran, and oh the smell of the crisp night air only served to excite him all the more.

Adrenaline pounded trough his veins as he reached out to grasp a trailing arm firmly. A dangerous gleam had entered Anse's sapphire eyes as he reached down to snap a finger with one quick movement. "I warned you not to run," stated the blonde man simply without a hint of remorse.

Kuraon raced as fast as he could, he was making as many obstacles as he could, but, he was finally caught. His heart beating so loud it was almost too hard to hear the hunter speak when he was caught. His blood was rushing, he pulled back, he knew he wouldn't be able to get away so soon again, but, there was no way he was going to let the hunter know what he thought. Kuraon felt his finger snap, the pain was excruciating, pain was something he couldn't handle very well, not like this. Kuraon fell to his knees screaming out, and then hung his head down. He so wanted to bring his hand closer to his chest, but, even if he did that, he knew it wouldn't matter. The pain took over all of his thoughts and he didn't think about escaping now.

Anselm nodded once in silent satisfaction. He'd made his point. With greater care then one would have first thought possible for the assassin, he bent down to take hold of the hand he'd wounded. Carefully, he set the bone he'd broken and splinted it with a pen he had handy. Using string to tie the all together, Anse then moved the supporting hand to Kuraon's elbow. "Now come on, and don't make anymore of a fuss then you already have."

It didn't cross his mind to give his victim anything for the pain. If the situations had been reversed, the assassin would never have expected it. "My home isn't too far you know." Well one of them anyway. He had places all over the city under different names. It paid to have hideaways when he wanted to lie low, as he did now.

Kuraon didn't make any fuss, he was more focused on his finger which was now broken, and was helped up. He tried to stay quiet about the pain, setting his enemy off again wouldn't be a good idea. Kuraon walked with him, but, glared the whole time, he was concentrating on ways to escape, things to do, without his magic, it would be hard, if he could play it that he wouldn't do anything, he might have enough time to find a way to get the things off of his hands. "You're home? I thought your boss wanted me..." he spoke through his teeth, trying to hide the pain.

He waited for a while before answering. People were beginning to glance at them in a way he didn't like. Soon though Anselm had tugged Kuraon into the archway of an older building, of the richly decorated stone kind. It was his home, temporarily, and his favorite of many. It truly was a house, and all his.

The assassin slipped a skeleton key into the lock and smiled with satisfaction upon hearing a clicking sound. "You're the one who doesn't want to go to my boss. I'm just making that possible." Besides, the contract had been null and void since the moment Anselm had realized the skinny old man had secretly been planning on poisoning him. Greedy old fool. This was the very least of the consequences that might have crossed the blond's mind.

The thoughts made his mind drift. He chased them away with a quick shake of his head and forced his prisoner into his home. It was decorated with antiques, brown and gold dominated the color scheme of the living room. It was a surprising contrast to how the owner of this peaceful place earned his living.

(was going to write this after you did, but, I took sinus medicine and went to sleep)

"Making what possible? The fact I don't want to go or the fact that your boss wants me?" Kuraon asked as his hand was feeling numb a bit now, at least he couldn't feel the pain one hundred percent now. Kuraon didn't understand how this...attacker or killer, whatever he was, brought him back here and not directly to his boss that hired to get Kuraon. Mages were only rare because everyone wanted their powers or magic abilities for their own personal gain. 'I'm not going to his boss, there is no way it's going to turn out this way' he thought to himself.

Surprised at the way the house looked compared to his captor, Kuraon spoke raising an eyebrow, "You live here? Doesn't seem to suit your outer character" though Kuraon still felt the pain at his hand and winced at the feel of it, it wasn't pleasant and would most likely hurt for awhile, a couple days to a week or two, that is until it healed.

He moved away from his prisoner to a rich wooden cupboard. The clinking of glass filled the room as he rummaged trough jars. Jewel colored liquids swished around as their containers were shoved aside to reveal a cream colored jar. He reached out to grab it and sauntered over to his prisoner's side. Deftly, Anse smeared some of the green salve onto the broken finger. Sure some of it got onto the splint.

"Just shut your mouth and look pretty." Snapped Anse at last as his home was mentioned. Even someone like him needed place to relax. Besides, maybe Anselm wanted to be the kind of person who could fit into such a warm place ... But he'd known no other life then his and so could only pretend.

Kuraon winced as the salve was applied to his finger in pain, he closed his eyes until he would feel it being over with, applying the salve that is. He wondered why he was making his hand feel better, wouldn't it be better if Kuraon was in pain? Some didn't think of the possibilities, but, that was more of a human nature than anything else. Kuraon didn't fear anyone or anything, but, when Anse snapped at him, he couldn't help, but, think how scary that was.

"Sorry" he mumbled, thinking of different travel or teleportation spells to use, most required both hands and no just one, so it was't easy. He wasn't sure what this guy would or could do to him as long as Kuraon wasn't killed, though the thought of death was more exciting than feared.

With a stern look for his victim, Anse tugged him along. His hand brushed against the cold silver bracelet making him remember that the mage didn't know yet. "That bracelet is very much like a slave collar. Trying to disobey my will ... It could make things unpleasant." That was an understatement if there ever was one. Firmly, the cinnamon skinned man dragged him up to the second floor. Soon they stood before a beautiful wooden door, which Anse walked into with Kuraon in tow.

"This is where you'll stay. My room is next door, so I'll know if you try to escape." The man nodded to himself and released the other's arm. It was time to make up some food. Perhaps it was late, but he hadn't managed to grab a bite to eat all day. He turned and began to walk out of the room with a deliberately arrogant gait. Anse wondered how Kuraon would react to all of this.

(I am a bit tired...okay really tired...from work, so if you have questions, do ask)

Kuraon followed reluctantly, Kuraon was almost afraid to ask what would happen if he disobeyed, but, he probably would figure that out one way or another. Kuraon was trying to think of ways to escape, he looked at the room, trying to find vents, windows, doors, even the walls would be noted.

'What would happen if I did disobey him? Just another broken bone?' he thought to himself as he walked over to a chair in the room and sat down. It wouldn't be safe to sleep nor eat anything while in this house. How would he know if this person, Anse, however, he still hadn't learned his name, he was certain they hadn't exchanged names yet, but, if he was a target then his name was already known. "What to do, what to do" he was found lost in thought, though, he almost felt as if he should panic, but, that wouldn't help his situation.

((Alright will do))

He turned his head at the sound of his prisoner asking questions to himself. Anse shook his head and slipped out of the room. Down the stairs he went with a sense of loneliness which plagued him from time to time. Just having another person in the home reminded him of it. It shouldn't have made him feel so horrible, but it did. There was no regret in him for having done his job, and taken matters into his own hands.

Rather, he simply wanted to find someone who wouldn't fear him even knowing what he was and how horrible a person. These thoughts fluttered trough his mind as the assassin pulled ingredients from the shelves of his modern kitchen. Stainless steel gleamed as he chopped onions to sauté them and then throw them into a sauce. It simmered and boiled, just as the water did with it's fill of noodles. Cooking calmed Anse's mind when nothing else did. It was a magic even the assassin could use.

(can my guy use magic at all with the bracelet on? Well I will find out soon :P)

Kuraon tried using his magic after talking to himself here and there. He wasn't sure what would happen, but, he had to figure out if he could use magic with this thing on or not. Outside it was late, Kuraon hated the night, it reminded him of everything he wanted to have or just didn't have. Too many memories he had to force back, too many thoughts he blocked, and waaaay too many reasons he hated the world.

Kuraon remembered how he ran earlier, he could have tried using a large amount of magic again, but, for some reason he chose to run. He didn't understand it, he might not fear much, but, a person of any kind wasn't his type of thing or someone to fear. Kuraon focused and tried to use electricity, it was a possible choice to use, and most of the time it got him out of tight spots.

((He can use it if he's not trying to escape. Sound alright to you? Doesn't mean Anselm won't freak out about it though... If your chara dodges, Anselm would just yell at him. As for the pain thing the bracelet did, I can change that if you don't approve.))

A twinge in his mind alerted Anselm to the use of magic. He could sense the stuff buzzing trough the air. Anyone could do that much if they trained their mind and paid attention. He knew the other wasn't trying to escape otherwise the bracelet would have stopped his playing cold, even so a growl of anger escaped his throat as he threw away the plate he'd been preparing for his guest. It crashed to the floor with a horrific sound. The pile of carefully laid spaghetti and bread lay upon the floor like in a slimy, ugly, swirl of gooeiness amidst the shattered glass.

Anselm pounded up the stairs to shove the door open with anger plainly in his eyes. "You filthy mutt. Stupid, idiotic, son of a ... a ... " Speechless now, Anse leaped forth to pound his fist into the other man's features. The bracelet communicated his ire more effectively then any fist could as it shot pain straight trough Kuraon's arm. "Never use your magic in my home again. Ever!" Suppressed memories had surfaced of a white clad mage and his parents, blood splattered everywhere and him hiding alone in a closet peering at it all in terrified silence.

Killing others was easy after that. No one had helped him, so what right did they have for his compassion? None at all. Anselm had tried so hard to forget that horrific night, and now this mage had brought it all back. It was his place, his home ... Magic wasn't allowed there.

(no i like it honestly, it's a great way to show realism within the story)

Kuraon didn't think of what the other would do if he tried to use magic, however, he wasn't expecting what was happening now. He heard the door slam open and his attacker, Kuraon felt the pain go up his arm and throughout his body, closing his eyes "Shit" he stated out loud when he felt the painful energy, this was almost as bad as feeling his bone breaking earlier, though, he tried to ignore it. Not really what he would call easy; catching his breath, Kuraon looked up to Anselm, he (Kuraon) was now on the floor sitting there trying to calm down.

"Why..." Kuraon spoke adding "Magic isn't bad..." only those who use it would be considered bad or make magic seem bad, it wasn't black or white magic, it was simply magic. If the user was dark, demented, or anywhere near the shadow side of life, the magic was black magic and used to harm not help. If the user was the opposite, then it would be there to help, or to heal those around in need. However, alot of people didn't see it the same way Kuraon saw it, he saw it as beautiful.

Anselm collapsed onto the quilt covered bed with an insane sounding laugh. "You ask why? Magic destroyed me. Take me as your evidence." The worlds were snarled with hatred at the mage. Anselm stood with full intent to harm Kuraon again, but thought better of it. Instead he slammed the chair away, shoving it trough the door. Then left the books laying upon the bedside table in a flurry of pages. Soon after the quilt disappeared in the same way, leaving only a meager blanket upon the bed. The room seemed far less comfortable and pleasant all of a sudden.

"Anselm the wrathful, that's what they call me you know. And oh how it suits me perfectly!" His hands moved to take in the mess he'd made of the room as he laughed bitterly. He moved to kneel before Kuraon with a dangerous smile. "Aren't so cocky now are you?" The plate of spaghetti he'd so carefully prepared remained in his mind. He'd actually wanted to make this experience comfortable for the other man, but no ... He had to go and misbehave.

With all the thrashing about, throwing random things, Kuraon went into defense mode. Once something like this would happen, even if it was not to hurt him, he always acted in defense and seemed to have changed a personality from there before. Kuraon almost regretted using magic, nonetheless, he couldn't. He could never regret it, magic always had a way to change things, sometimes for the better or the worse.

Kuraon's original green eyes switched, silver rushed through them taking over the emerald color, almost fully. His brown hair flowing softly up with the amount of his energy he was trying to use. Kuraon used a defensive blast which usually sent his enemy flying into whatever was behind them. He was a lot stronger involving magic than most would come to believe and he hated when someone confronted him and he couldn't do anything. He would always try though, it was in his blood, and it would forever be that way. "Says you" he stated with a deadly glare. Suddenly the mage's aura was different from the playful one before, now he seemed...dark...

The sight of a mage using his magic so fully made a mad gleam appear in Anse's eyes. The sound of steel slipping forth rang trough the room as the assassin advanced upon Kuraon. Pressing steel firmly against the other man's throat he extended his freed hand. "Care to delve into my mind and see the horrors there? Come on, I dare you." Images flashed trough his mind already, catching again and again on blood splattering and something purely evil issuing from nothingness. Then the mage had left, leaving only carnage in his wake.

It had been reported in the news, covered everywhere. From time to time the double murder and ensuing massacre was brought up again with the insane mage being used as an example for keeping track of them all. That was why there were no televisions in Anse's home, nor did he care to get the newspaper. Anselm wasn't even the name he'd been born with, but it served him well all the same.

Kuraon's magic faded as he felt the shock from the bracelet and screamed out in pain, his magic was gone now, used up, and it wouldn't return until he rested. Kuraon had tried to use a large amount of magic to attack Anse, meaning, he wouldn't be too focused on himself now. With the magic drained out of him, he was breathing heavily, trying to keep breathing is what his brain decided to do. His eyes were dull, the silver was gone now, and he looked almost human without it.

Kuraon couldn't move, if he was more aware of the situation, he would have spited something back, he would have said he didn't fear him, and would never fear him. Nonetheless, it seemed Karma was no on his side this late night. Right now, the only thing on his mind was, to be calm, and breath. If he somehow forgot about that, he would probably forget how to breath. A small, unnoticeable tear slipped from his eye and faded down his chin. It was always horrible for a mage not to be able to use magic, it created an empty feeling, and was the reason for Kuraon to keep moving. He laid there, unmoved, except for breathing.