(no subject)

[icy-hot-touches.livejournal.com]

Who: Judge Ralse and Fran!
What: Handling a few more things!
Where: Rabanastre!
When: Right now, yo!
Warnings: Shouldn't be any. :3



Judge Ralse was in top form that evening, having stymied no less than four upstarts who seemed to think that taking hostages was a good way to get him off guard. The trick was to disable such men that thought they had a victory, cut them down utterly and break their spirits in the height of success, so that as they died, they knew they'd failed. Murder had become an art for the Rogue Judge, and he composed with an elegance and grace that were truly chilling. Focusing only on his work in Lowtown, Snow saw his work as Ralse to be akin to nailing boards onto a wall to help stabilize it. After all, if there were violent and criminal elements just waiting to harm those trying to live a happy life, his work was for naught.

And so Judge Ralse bloodied his hands.

Looking this way and that, he stepped from an upper floor of the hovel he'd been in, holding onto the inside of the window for a moment. Frowning as he looked around, Snow nodded, and held out a hand, creating a hanging path of ice. He slid along it and down to the ground, letting it shatter and fall behind him. A man yelped, and stared in horror at the apparition of the creature haunting Lowtown's depths, and begged for his life. Snow recognized him, a baker by the name of Stephen. Stephen had a wife and five children, and worked his fingers to the bone to support them. Judge Ralse smiled behind his mask, and patted the man's shoulder, nodding, "Go home to your wife. You needn't fear me." the man swallowed hard, and stumbled as he ran off.