Reaver knew someone had bought his beloved mansion. Now all there was to do was take it back. Forcefully, with any luck.
As he strolled through the streets of his coastal paradise, he wondered just who had bought it. With any luck, it would be some up-and-coming crime lord that he could kill in a second. Or maybe a real crime lord, that would get him some more gold. That's always nice, regardless of how much gold he already had.
Bloodstone not changed much in the few years he'd been gone, though it seemed a bit more bustling in his opinion. As he walked up the streets towards his home, he heard people mutter as he passed. He frowned, wondering why the name Sparrow was being muttered along with his, but he pushed it out of his mind.
He walked through his garden, and walking confidently into his home. Then, he walked forward into his study, drawing his gun as he opened the door.
The gun ended up being pointed and cocked at a very lovely, very familiar woman. She looked up from his desk, writing with his quill on his paper.
She stared at him with a coldness that made Reaver a little bit uncomfortable. She was still slender and very pretty, but she was still... old. He had to admit though, age wasn't a bad look on her. She pushed her thick grey curls out of her face, her blue eyes glaring at him like blue agates.
"Oh. It's you." Sparrow said coolly. Reaver scowled. Her tone hardly seemed fitting for the owner of this house, in which she was trespassing.
"Yes. Me. The owner of this house." He snapped, lowering his gun. Sparrow raised an eyebrow.
"Actually, you're wrong." She said.
"Oh, my dear, I'm never wrong."
"You are now, Reaver. I bought this house. I'm it's legal owner. I "usurped" your home, as you so eloquently put it in your little note." She said, holding up the note.
"Oh, you kept it? My dear, if you wanted something to remind you of me, there's things like that all around you."
"You mean like these?" Sparrow asked, holding up a piece of paper. Reaver smiled.
"Depends, my dear. What is that?"Sparrow cleared her throat and began to read.
"Something quite extraordinary happened to today. An adventurer paid a visit; one who toddled out of Wraithmarsh without lose of neither life, limb, nor sanity."
Reaver frowned. Then he cringed. Oh... Yes... that's what I wrote.
She continued to read the diary entry, but then, finally got to the incriminating bit.
"-I can already feel the wrinkles being to form on my face- I sent the poor cow-"
Reaver snatched the diary entry away from Sparrow.
"You know I didn't mean that," Reaver said nervously. "Really." Sparrow stood, glaring.
"You called me a cow." She said darkly.
"Really! I didn't mean it!" Reaver said, backing up slowly, his hand twitching for his gun.
Hell hath no fury...
"I told myself that I would do this the second you came back." Sparrow said. Reaver took another step back.
Sparrow strode forward with her long legs, brought her hand back, and smacked Reaver to kingdom come.
He held his cheek, staring at her in shock.
"That's for calling me a cow." She said. Then she kicked him in the shin, hard.
"Ow!" Reaver snapped, stumbling back. "That hurt!"
"That's for sucking my youth away like a youth leech." She snapped.
"You don't look that bad!" Reaver snapped. A couple of people poked their heads through the door, wondering what the ruckus was.
"This," Sparrow popped him over the head with her fist, hard. The crack made the people watching wince. "Is for shooting Lucien when I was going to."
"Look, you were taking too long!" Reaver said, stumbling backward, trying to escape from more abuse.
"And this..." She brought her hand back. The backhand slap resounded through the house, and the small crowd that had gathered all either winced and applauded (these were mostly women). Reaver clutched his left cheek in shock, staring at the elderly woman who stood before him, the very picture of righteous vengeances.
"THAT'S FOR KILLING BARNUM, YOU BITCH!"