Half fire field, half ice field.

No items.

The field was perfect; equal grounds in both elements and truly an anomaly in most senses of the word. After all, who knew there was half a snow covered field surrounding a partially frozen lake that melded into a steaming, volcano like terrain with coals and steam vents every which way. No, the woman smirked as she drifted through the veil of perpetual steam that started where the snow and coals met, this place was definitely the perfect battleground for what she had in mind. All she had to do was make sure things were ready to go... and that her opponent managed to get his ass there on time. It'd been a hell of a long time since that day and it was about damn time they finished what they damn well had started back before shit got so complicated and certain events took place.

She stretched, arms reaching towards the sky as she tilted her head back and closed her eyes, embracing the air around her and letting the currents of heat and cold swirl around her. Snow beneath her feet, the chill biting but pleasant as she felt the tattoos and markings on her body begin to respond to the call of her element. It stung like hell, nostalgia and the memories that came with the past as they returned to her little by little. Maybe she needed to take herself to more fields like this more often; get away from the muted senses she had when she inhabited Sekai's body and used it to fulfill her desire for combat and bloodshed. Reaching up to the bun she kept her hair up in, she twisted the tie and let her hand pull it free. A snow filled wind blasted through her body and whipped the long, somewhat wavy mass of silvery-white hair around her.

This was what she'd been missing; the burn of the snow against her flesh, the sting of ice whipping past her skin and the bite of the arctic wind as it stole the voice from her and seared her lungs with every breath. She was reveling in the pure form of her element and regaining the strength and will she'd through she'd started to lose. Sure she risked being sensed by someone other than the one she'd challenged but, hey, shit happened and this place had her in a good enough mood that not much could kill her out of it. Blue over skirt marked with gold designs around the hem and back swirled around her, the odd garment she wore beneath it, no one knew if it was a second skirt or if it were something made to fool people into thinking it was a skirt, hair whipping around as she danced within the flurry of wind swept snow falling all around her.

For the first time in a long, long time; Kira laughed.


((OOC: These are the items Kira is wearing; along with the needed SP and HP:

790 HP
200 SP

Weapon: Jishuwen (Rue Repulse, Rue Wipe)
Head Armor: Ice Hunter's Cap (Repth)
Body Armor: Shiny Ice (Rue Rom)
Hand Armor: Shiva's Rings (MeRue Rom, Life Drain)
Leg Armor: Snow Panther (Ap Vorv)))

He couldn’t figure out why he had agreed to this for the life of him. He had let himself get roped into something that he wasn’t sure why he was doing. He leaned over the strangely deserted bridge in Mac Anu letting the brief wind rustle around him as he thought back onto the days when he himself had been able to make an impact on The World. He had missed it to be truthful. He was grateful to be around, to be with a fine host, and to be able to get out and stretch once in a while, but it wasn’t the same. The ability to roam, to feel the ground crunching beneath your feet, the sense of exhilaration as the adrenaline coursed through your body in the heat of a battle. That was what he missed, and that, he presumed, was the reason that he had agreed to this. Not only that, but the two combatants had an old score to settle.

He smiled as he turned toward the Chaos Gate. Their relationship looked quite strange to the outside eye. They got onto each other quite a bit, fighting and just otherwise bitching. But they had been through a lot, they were friends. Or at least he thought they were. It was always open to interpretation from the other side he supposed, but as the golden rings descended around his body, he stopped worrying about it. The Blademaster was whisked away, and when he was brought back, it was at the base of a rather large volcano. Almost immediately he could feel the heat radiating off of the slope. Beneath his feet the magma pulsed, the heated crust of the earth pulsed. Thump thump, thump thump, thump thump. It beat along with his heart. The heat lifted up from the ground enveloping him. Beads of sweat began to ooze from his pores and before long he was covered in a thin veneer of it. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, body began to relax, shoulder that had unknowingly tensed began to loosen, knots leaving them.

He rolled his shoulders back, breaths coming in and out slowly, peacefully. His eyes flared open, hearing a faint sound in the distance. He stepped off the base of the volcano, gravel crunching beneath is feet. To most this would seem a desolate wasteland. They failed to see the raw beauty of it. He bent down and scooped a small handful of charcoal. It warmed his hand, and the very feel of the charred earth sifting through his hand brought back memories. Good memories. He closed his eyes as he stepped forward again, letting himself drift. The warm air swirled around him, fueling him with life. Whether by chance or some other force, when he next opened his eyes he had stopped directly across his opponent at the line.

Charcoal faded into snow, warmth into cold, heat into wind. The wind blew along the line, framing her in snow and he in ash. The wind died down, his rustling tunic gradually settling down. A small cloak of ashes had formed on his shoulder and his didn’t bother upsetting it as he stared ahead. Amidst the rapid flurries of snow she was there, twirling around among the snow. She seemed happy, genuinely happy, and that was strange. Slowly he removed his sword of its harness and placed it point down against the ground, hands resting on the pommel driving it a little ways into the earth. He simply stood there and watched her, hair swirling along the blue garments that she called an outfit. Snow rested silently for a moment on her body before being shaken off again. When he spoke, his voice was soft, a sort of musical quality to it. It didn’t contain the edge it usually did, the necessity for bravado or harshness.

”You should let your hair down more often.”


((Equipment:
Weapon - Jinsaran (Vak Crack, Vak Revolver, Life Drain)
Head - Fire Dance Hat (Repth)
Body - Nny Scales (GiVak Don, Ap Torma)
Hand - Dragon's Hands (GiVak Kruz, Ap Vakz)
Foot - Fire Lizard (Ap Torv)

HP: 710
SP: 138

EDIT: Edited in my post for the round))

She turned her head, raising an eyebrow as she stopped herself in mid-turn, letting the over skirt and the rest of the looser parts of her garment settle into place along with her hair. One hand placed itself on her hip, the other lying against her side with a somewhat amused expression on her face as she faced the one who'd be her opponent in this particular battlefield. Kira scowled good-naturedly at Torvald, tempted to taunt him into making the first move by teasing the hell out of him about several different things... or seeing how fast he could backpedal if she pretended to take offense to his comment about her hair needing to be down more often.

”You should let your hair down more often.”

Goosebumps broke out along her skin, the moon hanging high in the sky on her end while the sun, well, the sun did whatever it did over on his end of things. She'd have to remember this place for the next time that she decided she needed to beat the hot pants off of Jadin; seemed like a perfect battleground for just about any Rue versus Vak fight anyways. Part of her wanted to curse at him for showing up early, basically just as she'd been about to go diving headlong into the open water at the lake's edge but, oh well, she'd probably have plenty of time to get in the water as it was. Battles tended to throw people from one extreme into the other.

...just the way she liked 'em to be.

“Jadin's probably got her hair up since mine's down; don't ask, it's the 'polar opposites in all ways' complex she's got.”

Motioning over the icy waters, Kira's eyes narrowed as she concentrated, the water bubbling slightly and a blue-white glow emitted from the water itself as a icy weapon rose from the waters and settled in her hand as if it'd been waiting for her to call upon it. Swinging it, as if testing the weight and balance of the weapon itself, Kira watched with a rather satisfied expression as the blade and pole itself had mist pouring off of it and the blue light that streamed behind the weapon itself when swung had her approval as well. The blade was wicked, measuring about the length of the start of her elbow to the tips of her fingers, gleaming sharp and smooth edged on one side with a serrated, slightly curved edge on the other. Near the end of the blade were two wicked prongs, both razor sharp as well and suitable for punching through armor; specifically that of the Heavy Axeman class. All in all, the weapon was about six and a half feet long, rather on the small side for a spear but more than deadly enough for her to wield and master.

A few more test swings and a few basic practice exercises and she was more than satisfied that her favored weapon hadn't gone dormant on her... and that she hadn't lost it yet. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she stabbed the slight point on the end of the spear nearest to where she held it into the ground, wicked end pointing towards the sky as she let her lips pull into a sly smile, the anticipation of battle humming in the very air around her and her eyes damn near glowing with excitement of the beginning of the battle. It had been far too long without a suitable battle, one where she didn't have to be concerned with a Vulcan-thrice-damned thing except keeping herself alive and making sure the opponent died or was defeated. Too long since she'd had the opportunity to fight as she had in the wars long ago and fight as she wished without any restraints.

“Let's make this interesting; don't disappoint me now.”

((HP: 790
SP: 200))

She stopped mid-turn, facing him as the swirling snow gradually calmed down around her. She stared at him, illuminated by the moon that hung on her side of the line.

“Jadin's probably got her hair up since mine's down; don't ask, it's the 'polar opposites in all ways' complex she's got.”

He rolled his eyes at her comment. She always had to bring her into this. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was between those two, but they never got along. But he didn’t think it was because of the polar opposite thing that Kira had mentioned. They were more alike then they realized. Both were stubborn as hell, both could be rash and hot-headed. That’s why they always fought, they were more like twin sisters then anything. And, he admitted this next part grudgingly, they both meant the world to him. He raised one of his hands, scratching absently at his chest as she called her weapon. It was the same spear that she had wielded so long ago when they had last fought together. He grinned, she wanted to be flashy with hers? Perhaps it was time for him to do the same. He focused, his eyes narrowing to slits, as flames embroiled his blade. The flames dissipated to reveal his custom design, one that made his Jinsaran deadly effective. It stood a couple feet shorter than he, a red orb resting as pommel atop a handle of black metal. The hilt curved up slightly, baring way to the red glowing blade itself. A couple feet in width, it shot downwards, curving back toward the end, giving it a sort of scimitar-ish look. The tip of the sword curved back into a slightly serrated back edge that extended for a few inches before straightening back out. Maybe she would recognize this.

He left his sword in the position it had been in, point down hands resting on the hilt. He laughed at her next comment. She expected him to go first?

“Let’s make this interesting; don’t disappoint me now.”

His laugh carried lightly on the winds trailing off into the distance. After all they had done together, with themselves and their hosts, and she still underestimated him.

”You expect me to go first Kirayne,” he added an extra emphasis on the name. ”You should know better then that by now. I have two words in response to that. Ap Vakz.”

The heat washed over him as the sweat coating his body seemed to turn a copper-ish color, the heat recognizing him as one of its own. He felt the aura envelop him, his attunement to Vak being boosted additionally by the spell. Beyond that he did nothing. He stood still, hands on the pommel of his sword, watching the woman across from him. He would not be easy prey, of that much he was determined.

((HP: 710
SP: 129))

”You expect me to go first Kirayne,”

An eyebrow raise was his answer to the use of her full name rather than the nickname she was generally known as.

”You should know better then that by now. I have two words in response to that. Ap Vakz.”

“'You should know better than that by now, I have two words in response to that', Ap Torv.”

She mimicked in a near perfect impression of Torvald's voice, her voice deepening as she spun the weapon around on her wrist, controlling the weight and proper balance needed to perform such a feat before catching it on its way around and holding the shaft comfortably in her hands. An odd glow that faded into a slight shimmering settled upon her, like she suddenly had some sort of luminescent powder on her skin. Tossing her hair over her shoulder and letting her feet slide into place in the snow, blade pointed in Torvald's direction, Kira let a grin slide across her lips, eyes bright with anticipation as she itched to start the battle and feel the burn of heated skin against either the coals or the snow and of muscles straining to fend off another weapon.

“Where's the respect, soldier? I don't remember giving you permission to address me on a first name basis.”

Taunting was definitely one of hers, though the adrenaline in her system was already starting to race, feet shifting ever so slightly in their position as the blue trail from the blade's movement gleamed in the air when she shifted the blade. The chill of the mists and the air temperature rapidly climbing and falling around her had goosebumps along her arms and exposed skin, eyes brightening and smile widening as she fought the urge to squirm in delight over the nostalgic feeling of the oncoming fight.

“C'mon, or are we feeling rusty?”

((HP: 790
SP: 185))

“'You should know better than that by now, I have two words in response to that', Ap Torv.”

Her lame attempt at mimickery had him scowling. His voice didn’t fit her, and it likely ever wouldn’t. It was the difference between heat and cold. Her voice resonated with that biting, frozen tone, his radiated with an overwhelming flare of heat. He wondered idly if the chill and the heat could ever combine into one powerful force as she started to twirl her spear around. His eyes remained emotionless, mind not responding to her movements. His body however, was different. The careful observer would notice a slight shifting in his hands, a sliding, a twisting of the hands and a whitening of the knuckles. The death grip he had on the hilt of the sword would’ve snapped bone. He forced himself to relax, rolling his shoulders back and slowly easing his grip on the leather.

“Where's the respect, soldier? I don't remember giving you permission to address me on a first name basis.”

His eyes flared. She dared to call him soldier? It was with a fair amount of restraint that he remained motionless, only a small twitch at the corner of his mouth. His hands tightened up again, and this time there was no forced loosening. The coarse leather felt comforting on the insides of his fingers; a familiarity about it that few other things granted. His hands felt much more comfortable gripping a sword than a woman that was the blatant truth of it. His left hand remained coursing the path of the hilt, his right hand however shifted up slowly resting on the pommel. The heat that pulsed out from it relaxed him, calmed him. He blinked slowly.

”I no longer require your permission Fallen High Priestess. They’ve already replaced you. The no one doesn’t do nearly as well as you did, she’s submissive and you know that Jadin needs a challenge every once in a while. Guess that shows about Merrows’ dwindling stock to choose from.”

The corners of his lips curled up into a slightly sneering grin. The insult to her god should be enough to provoke her. If not? Then she had better self-control then he had accounted for. He tacked a few words on at the end, almost an after statement.

”Ap Torv. Ap Torma.”

((HP: 710
SP: 100))

A slight gleam in her eyes signaled that she'd seen the way her insult had hit home, so he really didn't like that title, well... she could call him a few other things and see if any of those had an effect of any kind on him. So they'd replaced her with Onida, well... the girl had been a favored... weak willed and painfullygullible as she was. She'd grow into her duty as High Priestess eventually, probably wouldn't be as cutthroat and cunning as she was due to the girl's inner desire for peace but, hell, it was Onida's problem and curse to bear; not hers. A sense of freedom hit her, the shit-eating grin back on her face as she rolled her shoulders, cracking and popping the bones in her upper back, shoulders and her neck. The spear spun in a blue-streaked circle around her wrist, the joints cracking audibly as she gave an all too cheerful sounding retort.

"Ain't nothin' Fallen about me; I chose my path and I'm stickin' with it. Was thinkin' about runnin' out anyways, hate that formal court bullshit, be lucky you never had to sit through it."

Her eyes flickered a moment, as did her expression at the spoken words and how she actually, well, meant them. Never crossed her mind until that moment that she'd been looking for a way out of her forced upon duty; damn, maybe she did owe Garvix a 'thanks for the help asshole' flashmail for what he'd done, well... for her anyways. Torvald probably had different beliefs on the entire matter so, she'd keep that to herself for the time being.

"And watch how you talk about my mother; just 'cuz I'm not on speaking terms with the irritating bitch doesn't mean I don't have the obligation to make a half-assed effort to defend her."

She snickered, eyes dancing wickedly as she started a slow, dance-like rhythm, shifting her weight as she'd taught herself and all others who'd wielded a medium distance weapon like her own and didn't take her gaze off of his. Sure she wanted this fight to start rather badly but, hey, she could be patient.

"Jadin had more than enough challenge in me; I decided to cut her some slack, let her think she'll be the one on top... if you know what I mean."

Kira's voice had dropped to that suggestive, throaty octave she liked to use when flirting shamelessly at the last comment, a flirty expression on her face as she continued to sway slightly, waiting for the battle to start.

"Ladies first Torvald."

((HP: 790
SP: 187))

"Ain't nothin' Fallen about me; I chose my path and I'm stickin' with it. Was thinkin' about runnin' out anyways, hate that formal court bullshit, be lucky you never had to sit through it."

He shrugged slightly, watching her as she seemed to soften slightly. He knew that she had wanted to get out, and he supposed that his worked out well. But still, something was slightly different. He couldn’t quite understand it. Formality had been his life. He had served, and loved Jadin for the better portion of his life. But things were strange now. Being the soldier that she had so kindly pointed out that he was. He had had experiences outside of Vulcan’s area. Skirt-chasings to use the derogative term. And yet, he found himself strangely drawn to another. It was hopeless. And he knew it was. But it didn’t make it that much easier.

"And watch how you talk about my mother; just 'cuz I'm not on speaking terms with the irritating bitch doesn't mean I don't have the obligation to make a half-assed effort to defend her."

She had begun her little fluid dance. The same thing she always did when she was itching for a fight. That was good to see. He wasn’t the only one that would have a hard time restraining it. That was good. Maybe he was stronger than he had given himself credit for. Maybe, he could do what he knew he would need to.

"Jadin had more than enough challenge in me; I decided to cut her some slack, let her think she'll be the one on top... if you know what I mean."

His face heated up slightly. He let her last comment slide by. Two could play this game.

”That makes you wonder though. Does Sekai or Raq end up on top?”

He wasn’t going to lose this battle.

((HP: 710
SP: 101))

”That makes you wonder though. Does Sekai or Raq end up on top?”

The playful mood she'd had, the good mood, was gone in an instant. Laughter and amusement left the amber eyes, leaving them as icy and stoic as her expression. The wind howled around her, the tattoos against her flesh starting to glow brightly as she raised her spear, point directly above her head and swung it down once the blade itself had started to glow bright blue in color with a vicious snarl-like shout.

"MeRue Rom!"

Waves of blue energy shot out from her blade, icing and became the deadly spiked projectiles shooting for the Blademaster in front of her. Holding the staff directly out in front of her, she stood stock still and waited for the next move. He wanted to pull this crap? Fine; she'd show him to pull stupid shit like that around her. And if he really wanted to get nasty? Well then; it'd be time to bust out some of her nastier, bitchier moments and dredge those up from the past.

"Attack."

((HP: 790
SP: 170))

It seemed that he had finally hit a nerve. And a strong one at that. Her calm and possibly cheerful mood evaporated in an instant, and it evaporated in a flash of blue and spikes. He rolled right, ripping his sword up out of the earth and cleaving through some of the icicles. The ice was split into smaller shards, some that sliced lightly at the skin at his arms. It was negligible, the important fact that he had gotten her to move first. Though it seemed like she was intent on his blood being spilled this day.

As she so kindly pointed out, it was his turn now. He wasn’t going to start off with anything fancy, keep it simple at first. His legs carried him forward, the bull muscles tensing under the trousers. He was carried there in a matter of moments, his upward slash leaving nothing back. It started around her left ankle and rose up through her opposite shoulder, the blade whistling in the wind quietly as it moved through its course.

”My, my. Somebody’s a little touchy. Is that jealousy I detect?”

((SP: 102))

”My, my. Somebody’s a little touchy. Is that jealousy I detect?”

Oh like he was one to start that whole conversation, bastard wanted to be castrated or something with a statement like that. Her eyes narrowed slightly in response, watching him bolt forward and the blade sweep up. The sound of metal against metal rang out in the air as the slow trickle of blood soaked into her skirt and dripped down her stomach and leg to the ground. Her thigh and stomach had taken the brunt of the assault, though she was fortunate that the wounds weren't terribly deep and the staff of her spear had saved the blade from going completely across, heavily blocking the blade as she regarded him coldly.

"Unlike your past displays; I am incapable of such a human emotion."

The word human was spat out distastefully, like it was something foul from the ground that needed to be ground beneath her heel. She'd show him that she wasn't in the fuckin' mood to play and banter with him; and make him pay for spoiling her good mood. Her knuckles whitened, grip increasing as she murmured another spell; the blue markings on her flesh standing out in sharp contrast to her skin as the spell activated. The moron had confessed like an idiot in the middle of a dungeon at one point, or had it been Mac Anu... whatever, point being was that she'd immediately laughed him off and shot him down. Tch, he was only in this mess because he probably thought Garvix would have given him some kind of power to impress her.

"MeRue Rom."

Eddies of ice sharpened and grew serrated edges, throwing themselves forward in a gigantic cyclone that encompassed the both of them. Sharp, breath stealing arctic air blasted and the edges of the icicles screamed past; she didn't move during the whole of it either, looking more at home the middle of the icy tempest than anything else. Kira hadn't removed her eyes from the black haired Blademaster for even a moment; had taken the blow and the wound without even batting an eye or showing so much a grimace of pain.

Spear still straining against the curved blade, Kira shifted her foot and attempted to hook her ankle around his to knock him off his feet in a move that she'd taken down several of his fellow soldiers with before slaughtering them with the combination attack she liked to do. What the hell was with him today anyways? He wasn't usually this chatty or anything of the sort.

Must have gotten laid.

....she needed to get laid; might help things out a little bit.

She'd think about entertaining that idea later; after she finished this stupid thing off and wiped that smirk off his face.


((SP: 152))

His blade was jarred halfway through its swing, slicing lightly into flesh before running into the cold hard shaft of the Jishuwen. His arms tensed as he attempted to propel his blade through the metal but it was to no avail. He was too close, not even his greater physical strength would help at this moment. And she knew that. Her cold piercing gaze locked onto his as she spat at him.

"Unlike your past displays; I am incapable of such a human emotion."

His light humor evaporated with the contempt she threw at the word. That was such a load of bullshit. She had been attached to her little one long enough that she was practically human herself. And that’s why she hated it, because she didn’t want to become that. She thought it was weak. His eyes glinted heavily and his lips bared back in a smile as the woman took advantage of their close proximity using the same spell she had cast earlier to attack him again.

”MeRue Rom.”

Winter’s chill whirled up around him again; the long jagged shards of ice attempting to skewer him on their attempts, and her looking like nothing should be better, almost regal in the twirling cold. His blade would be of no use, not in its current position. His only chance would be a spell. Of course, the perfect counter would be his own Rom spell, but of course, the equipment he was currently privy to didn’t have anything of the sort. If he lost because of this small oversight, he would hope that Kira killed him. Switching quickly to Plan B, he responded with the best that he could at that current instance.

”GiVak Kruz.”

The area around the two of them was suddenly framed in an orb of scattered flames, orbs of the essence of heat itself rotating into being. And they collapsed inward, slicing through the air on the way toward the pair of them. Not all of them were intended to reach their destination however, the spell was meant as a counter not as an offensive. The air hissed and steamed as the spikes of ice and orbs of fire had their own little collisions. The spell wasn’t quite as successful as he had hoped, a fair number of the jagged frozen shards slipped around his flames and defenses and sliced along his skin. Both the snow and charcoal below him drank up his slowly dripping blood, the white portion of the line quickly turning red. It stung, but that was all. She was going to have to do better than that.

And try she did. He felt a quick sweep against his ankle, the pressure coming quick and unnoticed. His own ankle slid forward and he stumbled forward, but there was nowhere near enough force to knock him onto the ground. Still the stumble put him off balance, and that could be a disadvantage. Could be. He threw his weight forward, and turned the stumble into a charging tackle of sorts. His arms slew out, his body crouched in a position to wrap around her midsection. His bucking charge was rather idiotic looking, but if it succeeded it would accomplish what he needed it to. If he could keep her off balance, he might be able to win this.

”Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re just trying to deny the fact that you’ve spent so long attached to one that you can actually feel.” The last word was accompanied by a rather nasty looking sneer, assuming anybody could see his head at the angle it was. ”Hurt that you’re not some cold distant bitch anymore?”

((SP: 83))

((EDITED: To fix the hex code error that took place in the last paragraph. Forgot to knot of the color of the first dialogue.))

Looks like she'd hit a sore spot; excellant, maybe that subtle reminder of his past actions would shut his ass up long enough for her to get some of her irritation out and see it reflected in his blood upon the snow. After all, sometimes the entrails and blood reflected in the light the ice and snow cast were good tools to read the future in; though generally her mother had been better at that whole divination in the blood and entrail crap than she had. Her was better in ice, water and mirrors; though the hell if she knew if she still had the ability to do that anymore.

”GiVak Kruz.”

Son of a bitch; of course he'd have to go and pull this kind of crap to piss her off. Well, that was just fine with her, she'd give as good as she got and then some; such was the way of those born under and to Merrows. Heat enveloped and intruded on her territory, flames whirling in spheres to attack and shatter her assault on his person. Burns pinkened her flesh where the fires had gotten too close, the pain almost sweet in a bitter release and distraction as the conflicting energies canceled each other out. Goddammit; he wasn't supposed to stumble forward; backward or sideways was how it was supposed to work!

Gritting her teeth as her spear was knocked into her hip, shoulder and hip in the most irritatingly bruising manner, Kira felt his arms and body hit her; head butting into her stomach in the lamest excuse for a tackle she'd seen in years. Fine; he wanted to play this way? She'd play this way and come out the way she wanted to. His balance was off, hers starting because the jackass had put on more muscle since she'd seen him last, and she forced her body to turn. He'd hit the ground on his back first, the spear clattering as she landed on top of him and immediately took action.

”Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re just trying to deny the fact that you’ve spent so long attached to one that you can actually feel.”

Didn't he ever just, you know, shut the fuck up? Kira asked herself silently with a slight grunt from the impact.

”Hurt that you’re not some cold distant bitch anymore?”

Oh for fuck's sake, she thought in annoyance, wiping the emotion from her face as she was well practiced in doing in severe situations and when the time called for it before putting her weight against the spear shaft across his chest and wrapping her hands around his thick as his fucking skull's neck. Good thing her palms and fingers were on the above average size when it came to things like this; made strangling a fat head easier.

"Wasn't too long ago that I was in this same position with a man; he on his back and my hands around his throat."

Almost conversationally, like the two of them were sitting outside and chatting about the weather and having a drink like comrades of a long finished war. Her eyes narrowed slightly, showing her displeasure as she applied heavy pressure against his windpipe and replied to his 'witty' comments.

"I know my place soldier and I know what I am. Think whatever thoughts in that thing you call a brain but leave me out of it."

Cold distant bitch; so that's what she'd been before? She could see that now actually once she really took a moment to think about it; dammit, she needed to go back to it again. Things were less complicated that way and fuck if she needed any more complication than there was already.

"It's nothing more than a matter of convience in the first place anyhow and you know that; you have a host too after all."

((SP: 154))

He made contact, but he didn’t lay her out like he had been hoping. She rolled right bringing herself down on top of him. Straddling him. The perfect position for . . . a throttling. Her hands, and annoyingly long fingers threaded around his neck intent on crushing the air from his windpipe.

”Wasn’t too long ago that I was in the same position with a man; he on his back and my hands around his neck.”

The force around his neck increased. He gasped fruitlessly for air. If he didn’t do anything about this soon, things were going to turn out very badly.

”I know my place soldier and I know what I am. Think whatever thoughts in that thing you call a brain but leave me out of it.” A pause. ”It’s nothing more than a matter of convenience in the first place anyhow and you know that; you have a host too after all.”

She finally shut up, and the Blademaster took that moment to take action. His left fist crashed into the woman’s wrists, forcing them to loosen around his neck. At the same time, his right hand slammed into her left side, shifting positions as the man rolled with his blow. The force caused her to roll of him, and his roll put him on top of her, a knee driven into her abdomen. His raven hair shocked down from his head, draping loosely over her face as he lowered his head next to her.

”Don’t pretend that you know either me or my host.”

She brought up a good point. What was he? Was he truly just a soldier, the title spat with much distaste, or did he have a greater purpose in life. He growled at himself. Duels were not the place for thinking. He could think after he won this. His voice hissed out another command.

”GiVak Don.” He felt the heat began to swelter on his back, and waited for a few seconds before rolling off the Long Arm and back to his feet, Jinsaran held at the ready. If she took the spell directly, maybe he could finish her soon.

((SP: 64))

A snarl from the impact on her wrists was her response, fucking hell, she was lucky that the son of a bitch wasn't her level or higher; that would have ended up rather badly for her. Broken wrist or hand for a Long Arm was as bad as a Wavemaster out of SP; it usually meant said person was completely and utterly fucked. The blow against her side dislodged her, sent her rolling not quite fast enough to avoid the retaliation by Torvald reversing their positions with his damn tree trunk for a knee cap in her gut. Dammit, that was a bruised rib or two at least. Hair brushed against his face and man was it tempting to pull a stereotypical move and pull his hair like any other girl would have in her situation.

”Don’t pretend that you know either me or my host.”

Every single part of her screamed in violent rejection of the bastard muttering his bullshit in her ear as she tensed, ready to try and kick him off of her as he rolled off with a single command. Fuck. He would have used that damn spell on her. The jackass that he was, he'd gotten better about his strategy and that pissed her off.

”GiVak Don.”

"MeRue Rom."

Not enough time to get out of the way, the icy air around her hardening and sending her own spell to try and cancel out the heat bearing down on her with little success. The elements clashed and warred in a fantastic display of orange and blue, reminding Kira bitterly of the field her little one had been comatose in before the remnants of the attack hit her full force. Oh yeah, that's why she'd hated the Vak element.

Steam rose from around where she lay, catching her breath and managing not to hiss out her displeasure from the stinging wounds she'd received, rolling to one side to put out the smoldering embers and cool her overheated skin before forcing herself on one knee and then to rise in plain sight. Kira was breathing hard, a long gash on her left side and several burns visible on her body with charred bits of her clothing from where the fabric had caught or smoldered. A burn on her forehead and on her cheek completed the battle worn appearance as she glared at him with something more than indignant anger in her eyes. Something had her eyes brighter than normal, wasn't the anger, it was too... glassy to be that. Her spear was in her hand as fast as she could manage it and she went back into her defensive battle stance once more.

Only this time, her hands were shaking.

She knew her HP was about half depleted, that wasn't the issue and her SP was in fairly alright shape too. So then, why the hell was she so damn tired all of a sudden and why were her eyes stinging like they were. Dammit, her sight was blurring too, Kira scowled and blinked furiously. Must have gotten some of the ashes or some ice shard in there or something to make her eyes sting like that.

"Take your words and eat them Torvald; you don't know shit either."

She shot back in response to his earlier comment, visibly surprised to find her voice cracking near the end of the retort.

((SP: 136))