Strutting (open)

[Lysandra]

Lysandra stood her ground as he came forward and laughed a slightly…mad laugh. She didn’t know how to describe it.

Lysandra chuckled “A fair maiden Myrian or not wouldn’t fight a gentleman”
She said this with a sarcastic twinge to her words. “But since you ask so kindly maybe the maybe fair not so maiden certainly a Myrian will oblige”

Lysandra didn’t draw any weapons…yet.
She came forward until she was only steps from him calculating his weight and its advantages.
She pulled her dark red hair back with a hair clasp.
Always seemingly relaxed but in reality balancing on the balls of her feet, waiting to spring Lysandra smiled.

“Do you love rules Skylar or do you like to play…dirty?”
Lysandras smile became a bit maniacal with those words revealing her darker side. The side which rejoiced in folly and blood.

[Skylar]

Skylar could see her darker side as it exposed itself to him, and his rather stoic smile didn't once shift an millimeter, but there could be no doubt in his own mind about how he felt about the situation. He liked what he saw! This new, more menacing and bloodthirsty image was one he enjoyed seeing. Why couldn't ever creature be so honestly murderous! So in touch with their own inner defilement!

Skylar licked his lips. "Play by the rules or fight dirty? Well, about that, I..." And without another word of warning, he threw a punch directly at Lysandra's face. So much for the rules. The first thing the Myrian would notice about Skylar's punch and indeed every move he made during the fight was probably this: He was slow. He was really slow. Not just compared to a Myrian, he was just slow. Part of the problem when the brain and the body have a disconnect like Nuit do, it takes time for the body to do what it's commanded. And, thanks to the diet of slowly decaying, his body was also weak and soft.

He was by no stretch of the imagination a fighter. As he tried to land a blow on the Myrian with a barrage of poorly placed punches, he spoke, lunacy in his eyes. "Finally showing your true face, eh, Lysandra? It's far more beautiful than that coy mask I saw before! Show me your bloodlust, you strange amazon!"

[Lysandra]

Her true face? She lauphed then said through her teeth her tone dark
“You have no idea…”

Lysandra blocked his punch easily with her elbow and upper arm, twisted and planted a roundhouse kick on his stomach, he was so…slow.

For some reason she had changed her aim quickly aiming lower. Her instinct had planned a kick to his sternum, and if she had followed it, she would have cracked it or at least broken some ribs. If he knotted his muscles nothing would happen…much.

Her normally dark green eyes had a light yellow tinge to them, her lips twisted into a sly smile.
She jumped on him on pinning him to the ground, using all her body happy that she was still wearing the clothes she had worn in Falyndar, her bare limbs were free.
She looked at him and said “It’s your lucky day, the strange Amazon has decided not to break your ribs…” She licked her lips and chuckled and continued “Yet”

[Skylar]

The fight had gone pretty much as Skylar had expected. In truth, it hadn't really mattered if he'd won or lost, but this had been the probable outcome. Despite the recent exertion, there was no flush to Skylar's cheeks, and he was not breathing heavily.

If she were perceptive, Lysandra might be able to notice that he wasn't breathing at all.

That, combined with the cold skin under her hands, might already be enough of a hint to her what the man she was fighting was, exactly. Skylar knew that the moment he'd removed his shirt she'd have a much higher chance of being able to tell, and his own body was not in the best of shape.

Well, it'd been worse.

"So, I have lost then." Skylar said, he was still smirking, and the woman's threat hadn't so much as fazed him. (And why would it, he could always get more ribs).

"And now, you have me at your mercy. Since I'm sure you don't want to leave just yet, perhaps this is a good situation for us to talk about our feelings?" He seemed to be joking, but within her mind he was implanting a subtle hypnotic suggestion: He was altering her feelings, making her feel more comfortable with himself and the current situation. It was a vague, clumsy effort, but hard to notice, too.

He smiled. Time for the real fun to start.

[Lysandra]

For the first time noticed how cold and strangely soft his skin was.
She bent down and pressed her ear to his chest looking for the tell tale noise of a beating heart she then pressed a finger to his wrist, nothing.

She sucked in her breath, more a snarl than a sigh and narrowed her eyes until they were venomous green slits.

She then relaxed letting her tense body go something about what he had just said caught her attention. “Our feelings? How so?”
She looked at him bewildered for a moment then a clear piercing thought went through her mind, it was a warning she raised an eyebrow.
Feeling his cold skin under her broke the effect she was under for just a moment as she pressed her face closer to his until they were just centimetres away and said “I see the battle has just begun”
Then she slipped back into the slightly puzzled thoughts she had before, a hesitant smile breaking her scowl.

[Skylar]

"Looking for something?" Skylar laughed as the woman searched his body for a pulse she wouldn't find. There couldn't really be any doubt now: She'd definitely uncovered his identity. He wondered briefly what she knew of Nuit. Most cultures learned one or two things about them, although most of it was filled with legend and hearsay which would have made Skylar blush from the sheer inaccuracy of them, if he could indeed blush.

He studied her reactions carefully, there was no reason she could have possibly noticed his minor hypnotic thrust. Such a subtle thing wouldn't have had much of an effect, but that was also a blessing, it was a lot harder to pick up on too. He decided to push it a little further and see what he could get from her before resorting to hypnotism again.

After all, he'd set the mood already. She seemed to be more comfortable, and the combat had brought some vigorous energy to her, he hoped. Plus, that crack about feelings must have at least lowered her guard.

"I'll go first. I'm Skylar, I'm a Nuit, I'm nine hundred years old. I'm an undead abomination that lives by jumping from corpse to corpse until eventually even my soul will rot away to nothingness. I'm told that my people are a race of immortal, body-snatching monsters without any redeeming quality. What does Lysandra the Myrian think?" He asked, he moved his head towards her a little, and he stared into her eyes with a strange intensity. They were close before, and now their noses were touching.

The question hung in the air.

[Lysandra]

He laughed as she looked for a pulse, she kept her face frozen as she found none, she then put her hand above his mouth he didn’t suck in or breathe out air.

She had heard about the undead race when she was just a child, she hadn’t cared much for stories then and had chuckled at the mere idea. But now, now she was pinning one to the ground, she just didn’t know what to do her prism of experience and training hadn’t included this.

“I’m Lysandra, I’m a Myrian. I’m an outcast an exile from my home, and I chose this.
I like to go beyond limits and I find pleasure in folly in tumult and in pain.” She licked her lips “Call it bloodlust I don’t care, and I don’t think you care either.” She looked deeply into his eyes centimetres from hers and said “Lysandra thinks she doesn’t care if you are an undead abomination because we are all abominations alive, dead and undead.” She smiled.

[Skylar]

Skylar laughed, but it was a shallow, mirthless sound, filled with a hollow mockery and a derisive disinterest, he wriggled in his bonds comfortably, this was not the first time he'd been restrained in some way. Actually, he'd had centuries to get used to this sort of thing. He'd probably spent multiple lifetimes in captivity of some sort or another. Oh well, time flies when you're having fun.

"Well said, well said. You're right, I really don't care. To me there are two kinds of people in the world: The winners and the losers. And there is without a doubt only one way to tell if someone has won: They live. The living are those that have won, and the dead are those that have lost. You and I and every body here today, we're the true winners. I know you agree with me, because I see that violent hate in your eyes, I can feel that bloodlust pounding through your veins." As Skylar spoke, he stared into Lysandra's eyes, never flinching or blinking. Slowly he broke into a triumphant smile. This one wouldn't need hypnotism. Not her.

"It's beautiful to me, your hatred. Your desire for battle and blood. You have stood against another with no more chance of winning than your opponent, gambled it all on your own strength and luck and won. You made another lose and ensured your own victory in the process. It is tremendous to take a life, is it not? It's a lust greater than that of flesh, stronger than that of power. The lust to destroy. You know of what I speak."

[Lysandra]

She returned his unwavering gaze her dark green eyes inscrutable.
“You can’t generalize so much, what about you? And there are also the people that stay alive to lose another day! But in general I agree with you” She cocked her head and her hair fell forwards, it was the colour of dried blood a rare trait in her race.

“Nobody found my bloodlust beautiful” She said in a detached voice, she peered at him and smirked “Some say love will save all, I don’t believe it, and do you?”

“And yes I know what you speak of so eloquently...the driving lust”
She licked her lips “Oh yes I know exactly of what you speak” She smiled.

She released him and stood up “What do you do Skylar?” She grinned and continued “and most importantly what do you want?”