Shadow made his way through the alleys of Domino, looking on every unsuspecting person. Each could be a victim, he thought, but which to choose. So many flavors and he was only going to allow himself a taste of one tonight. He paused in the darkness and looked up between the buildings to the night sky. The moon was barely visible, and he smiled for that. Shadow turned his attention back to the streets, trying once again to find his next playmate.

Rishid had packed a light duffel bag, thrown together things he thought would be most useful for the search and rescue, and left without much more than a polite word to his room mate. His thoughts were mainly focussed on finding Malik as quickly as possible, and so he was only barely noticing the crowd around him--a very unusual thing for the man, who was most often on guard at all times. He paused and cut through one of the darker alleyways, knowing it would take him at least a block closer to the police department.

How fortunate for Shadow that someone was happening to come his way. Now he needn't waste his time trying to find the perfect person; the meal was being served before him. Shadow pressed himself against a building wall in a particularly dark spot, making sure to keep his weapon of choice quietly out of site by his side. Just as the person...oh, it was Rishid, how lovely...was about to pass him, he let out a soft laugh.

Rishid paused to readjust his duffelbag, having just hopped over a fence, and instinctively made sure that his knife was within easy reach. He distractedly turned the corner, going over in his mind the directions to the S&R department.

So it was a game of tag, was it? Rishid sure was a good player. Shadow let himself move away from the wall and rounded the corner, noticing Rishid not far up ahead from him. Now would he be stealthy in this game of tag, or make noisy strides? He decided on the former, creeping up until he was right behind Rishid. After mimicking a few strides, he taped the man in front of him on the right shoulder.

Rishid, distracted and more or less on 'auto pilot', spun around, bringing his elbow sharply back to knock any possible threat away.

Shadow groaned when he was hit, stumbling back a few steps, but stayed on his feet. "I didn't expect you to be so quick," he said, straightening himself up. "But I must say it's nice to finally have someone willing to play a game with me."

Rishid stared, immediately switching from worrying over Malik to protecting himself. "You must be Shadow..." he looked the other over quickly, assessing any weapons as well as the other's stance. "Unless wearing an unusual amount of black is a fashion statement I am unaware of."

"So you like to follow the fashion world? Oh, how great." He gestured to his outfit. "I just find it better to hide with, my dear. Now, let me see, I tagged you, you tagged me back, so now it's my turn!" Shadow raised up a lead pipe as he ran the few steps over to Rishid, swinging it with some, but not all, of his might.

Rishid ducked under it, moving forward so that he was directly beside Shadow's ribs and out of harm from the pipe; then he brought his elbow again into the man's stomach, using his forward momentum to add force to the blow.

"...Hey!..." Shadow let out as he fell back, this time not able to keep on his feet. He landed hard on his side. That was going to hurt for a few days. "It was my turn...to tag you." He staggered up, coughing, using the pipe as a cane. "I can see you are a cheater. I don't like cheaters." He moved even quicker than before, raising up the pipe, but quickly ducking down when he got near Rishid to strike him in the leg.

Rishid slid to the side, not fast enough to avoid the blow but quickly enough that it didn't break any bones. He grunted in pain, but immediately dropped down, wrapping his good leg behind Shadow's knees; then he jerked, tripping the Thief up. "A fight is not a chess match," he growled, trying hard to ignore the throbbing pain in his leg, "it is more of a dance." He grabbed Shadow's arm and twisted the man's wrist to force him to let go of the pipe.

"Shit!" He tried to hold onto the pipe, but he had to finally let it fall. His body was going to hate him tomorrow, but that didn't stop him from wanting to continue. So it isn't a game, huh? A dance? "Let's dance then." The words came out smoothly. Shadow used his free hand and slammed it into Rishid's chest.

Rishid grunted, but didn't release the thief's hand; instead he only twisted harder, until it threatened to break. "Hit...me again, and I may take this off." He raised his top leg and slammed the heel of his boot into Shadow's stomach.

Shadow cried out, both from his wrist and the kick in the stomach. He hadn't expected Rishid to put up such a fight. He'd have to get serious now. Yes, it was time for serious business. "Okay, okay, I won't hit you." As he spoke, his left hand snuck behind him, grabbing an item he kept in hiding for situations just like these. He smiled and quickly brought his hand forward, a tazer poised and ready. He slammed it on the arm Rishid was using to hold him and turned up the juice. It was a shame that these things didn't have as much juice as he would have wanted, but he'd just have to make do.

Rishid was accustomed to pain; he had, in fact, been told that his pain tolerance was "freaky". But this hurt, and he jerked hard, unable to stop a scream. His hand, however, had tightened, the way the rest of him had curled in on himself, and it took Shadow's wrist that final fraction of an inch past the breaking point.

Shadow screamed out, dropping the tazer to grip his wrist. This man wasn't a good tag player or a dancer. And Shadow thought it rude to step on someone's foot. He began digging his fingernails into Rishid's hand and brought his legs up to kick him in the chest and stomach. Tag! You're it! Let me go now!

Rishid was knocked backwards by Shadow's last blow, and while he was glad that the tazer was no longer on him, he was winded and it took him a few seconds longer to get up than he would ever have liked admit to. That and his right hand was now dripping blood; Shadow had nicked one of the veins, he suspected. His first move was to kick the tazer as far from them as possible; then he used his good hand to snatch his knife from his belt and throw it expertly at Shadow's left leg.

He bit back a scream and gave an eerie smile to Rishid before bending down to look at his leg. The knife was sticking out of his thigh, though luckily it wasn't too deep. Red rivers made their way down his black outfit. It was hard to see, but he could tell. He pulled out the knife, grunting, and held it up before him. Little blood drops rained down to the group. Pitter-pat. He eyed it and then eyed Rishid, getting angrier. "When you play tag, you tough the person with your hands, not a knife." He tested his leg out, putting some pressure on it, and when he felt it was okay enough to move, he ran over to Rishid, the knife running across his left side to leave a cut from the front and curved around to just the back.

Rishid bit back a yelp as the knife slit him open--my own knife, he thought, absurdly--and, holding one hand over the new wound, he aimed a back kick at Shadow's hip.

He went stumbling back. For a moment he thought he would fall to the ground again, but he caught himself on a wall and leaned up against it. His hand went to his hip and began rubbing. "Well well. It seems My Little Pony has a few tricks up his sleeves." Shadow's eyes went from the knife to Rishid, wondering what to do. He realized he wasn't in the best shape, and staying any longer could be dangerous. He took his newly acquired knife and put it in the holder by his own, snapping the top flap into place so the knives wouldn't fall out.

Rishid had few enough possessions in the world, and the knife was the only thing he had left from his life underground. He would rather have died than lose it--the only symbol of belonging his adoptive father had ever given him. He rushed forward, and brought the heel of his hand up to Shadow's chin to daze him and, if necessary, expose the man's throat for a fatal blow. But instead, he used the opening to grab hold of the sheaths, fumbling for the familiar leather handle.

The back of Shadow's head hit the building wall behind him. He could see starts and little birdies floating around. His hand came up to try and grab one, but when his hand went through the bird he came back to the real world. Someone's hands were meddling where there ought not be meddling. He brought his arm with the broken wrist up and slammed it into Rishid's head, hissing in at the pain. He stumbled back away from Rishid and took a quick few more steps back to give some distance. "I can't just leave empty handed, you know. I better get something if I'm going to be a nice boy and give it back."

Rishid grunted and staggered back. He was going to have an incredible headache after this...assuming he did get out of this. He glared blearily at Shadow. "What, then?"

"What's in your goodie bag?"

"Clothing and food," he said. "And silver and brass throwing knives." Hopefully Shadow would go for the more expensive objects.

Shadow took some time to think it over. On the one hand he'd have another knife, and it seemed really important to Rishid. On the other, he'd many knives, and he could use those for later play. Plus Rishid had been awfully nice to join in the game, even if he was a no-good cheater. Yes, he'd have to pay for that. "It seems that we can come to a nice little deal here. I'll give you back your oh-so-precioussss shiny, and you give me the knives." He opened his mouth to continue, but paused. Moments go by too quickly. "And I'll be needing the clothes that you're wearing. All of them."

Rishid was silent, unmoving. My clothing? They were nothing special, at all--he'd bought the t-shirt at a garage sale, and the pants were some that he'd bought Malik several years ago and found they were too big for the teen. Both were well-worn and, now, quite filthy. "Why the clothing?" he asked, inching back to his duffelbag where the knives were.

"Shadow didn't say go!" He motioned his good hand for Rishid to back away from the bag. "As for the clothing...well, as the saying goes, clothing is like a good pair of chopsticks." Shadow nodded, not caring to elaborate further on the matter. "Just take them all off and toss them towards the bag."

Rishid stopped, reluctantly. He had hoped for a moment that he would be allowed to retrieve the knives, but...well, he should have known that Shadow wouldn't be stupid enough to risk letting a set of throwing knives into his opponent's hands. "Chopsticks?" He asked, arching an eyebrow. A second later he kneeled down and began untying his boots.

"Yes. To grab that little grain of rice and toss it back where it belongs. And hurry it up." As Rishid was bent over, Shadow took a few side steps to the duffel bag.

"That's rather poetic of you," Rishid said, his tone neutral. "...Am I to believe that you want my socks, also?"

"Yes. Everything is everything is anything." He took a few more steps until he was within reach of the bag. "So tell me, where was My Little Pony going with his bag of tricks?"

Rishid was watching him coolly as he stripped off his socks, tucked them neatly in his boots, and then stood on the cold pavement and stripped off his jacket and t-shirt. "Pony? I'm afraid I don't understand." He looked at the bag, watching, waiting. He tossed the shirt at Shadow. "In honesty I don't know where I am going."

"You know, pony." Shadow gestured to the back of his own head to indicate the hair on the back of Rishid's. "Just like a pony's mane. If I rode you, I would pull on it to make you stop, and hit my heels on your hips to make you go." That actually sounded fun. "Now don't forget your jacket and shoes, too."

Not in all his life had Rishid been referred to in such a manner. He'd been called worse, though. He blinked at Shadow, uncertainly. "...I see. I suggest you not try it." He tossed the jacket and shoes over. "Take my knife from your sheath and toss it over there."

Shadow shook his finger. "I said take it all off. When you do that, you'll get your knife."

Rishid clamped his mouth shut and, after a moment, blanked his mind completely and stripped off the last of his clothing. His tone was empty but firm when he tossed his clothes over and said, "My knife, please."

He bent down and shoved the clothes in the bag. As he got up, Shadow unclipped the top cover and pulled out the knife. The blood on it no longer had a liquid shine, but more of a dull look. It was a good thing he was going to get rid of this. He stood up, flinging the duffel back onto his shoulder, biting back as it hit his wrist. "Okay. Now no funny business." He took a few steps back and tossed the knife just a foot in front of him. Before it had hit the ground he turned around and ran, limping slightly at the pain in his left leg.

Rishid snatched up his knife and, figuring since the asphalt was cold and he'd do well to keep moving anyway, ran after Shadow. This is a bad idea, he told himself.

Shadow heard approaching footsteps as he rounded the corner. It seemed Rishid still wanted to play. Not that he didn't want to, but there was somewhere he had to be very soon. He picked up the pace, ignoring the pain in his leg, and headed toward the fairly crowded sidewalk. Looks like I've found the party scene, he thought to himself. Shadow slowed his pace to a job and reached to his holster, pulling out a gun. He hadn't used this since Little Red Riding Hood. He wheeled around on his good leg and fired a few shots, aiming more in the direction of Rishid then for the actual man himself.

Rishid dropped as soon as he heard the shots; a bullet grazed the top of his shoulder, drawing another yell from him. He winced, mentally cursing himself for forgetting that the man had a weapon like that. Stupid, stupid... He looked up, scanning the crowd for Shadow. All he saw was a crowd of strange faces, staring at the naked, bleeding, bruised man on the ground.

The crowd was much easier to get through then expected. Some were started at the gun, but most were either too drunk or just didn't care enough to worry about it. When he heard Rishid's yell and saw him drop to the ground, he holstered his weapon and made his way across the street, slipping once again into the darkness towards his next destination.

Rishid heard sirens, perhaps headed for another call, but perhaps coming to stop the fight, or to find the public nudist. He picked himself up and ran back through an alley towards home.