Flashback Need a Lift? [Razkar]

[Tinnok]

She had almost been ready to accept his words, his apology, but the second his skin brushed hers the half breed simply couldn't take it. She whirled and threw the appendage away, watching as his gaze went from surprise to anger in the swiftest of instances. Her whole body vibrated with pained tension, limbs still sore from the climb as her slitted eyes hung filled with frustration and some sort of anguish. She was behaving like a starved tiger, a rabid dog, no sense and all primal emotion, but she couldn't care less. None of her anger at him was truly justified, but even so...she didn't want to answer his question.

Not yet.

So instead she merely threw her body head long at him, literally ramming him in the gut with it. He didn't dodge, perhaps out of shock, perhaps out of disbelief, it wasn't much like her normal agile tactics. And the reason why was proved only an instant later. A head butt was not so effective against a mass of muscle, and though she heard the breath whoosh out of his lung, two hands gripped her shoulders, and shoved her away, a hearty throw of the hand connecting with her jaw and sending her staggering backwards.

Now Tinnok smiled, tasting the saltiness of blood within her mouth as a pink tongue lapped it away. It was strange how her anger could so swiftly drain away when put on a combative playing field. Here her emotions only fueled her efforts, they did not hinder. And the confusion was gone from the Eagle's eyes, knowing what lay ahead for both of them. The abomination did not draw a blade. He would be far superior to her in strength and ability. But the sick part of her...the one that hated what she was as much as any pure blood...almost demanded the pummeling that would surely follow. It wasn't as if she was going to make it easy for him to do so...

Not at all.

Tinnok rolled her neck, face straightening from the strangely sadistic expression as the cracking of bones echoed across to her opponent. His stance was familiar and ready, and when she threw herself forward again, The Eagle was more than prepared. She leapt up into the air and clasped her left wrist in her right hand, pulled both appendages down in a blow aimed directly for his collar bone. Let the games begin.

[Razkar]

She butted him like a goat and all other talk and questions vanished in the rush of pain. Training and experience took over, forcing everything else from his mind, and Razkar was more aware of his arms grabbing her shoulders and jerking her up, rather than actively willing them to.

That said, the headbutt was satisfying.

The half-breed staggered but only for three steps. Many others he sparred with would have been on their arse from that blow, but he had not intended to batter her so. He just wanted her attention. Perhaps that would be enough to-

She smirked and spat blood, hands balling into fists.

No. No, I don't think so.

She rolled her neck and every link in it cracked and snapped like a snarling animal. With a smirk spreading across his face, slow yet deadly, he undid his weapons belt, iron and steel falling to the wet grass with a thud. He cracked slippery knuckles but she was already moving, charging his way-

-becoming airborne with a flick of her legs, hands together and slicing down in a singular hammerblow.

Fine.

Razkar twisted to his left and the blow missed as she landed, but the second her feet hit the moist ground she pivoted, swinging her fist into his chest instead. The male grunted as his breastbone creaked, but he let the momentum sway him backwards, jerking his right leg up at the same time-

-catching her in the side of the shin and making her growl with pain-

-but he was already staggering from her punch, unable to capitalize until he had steadied himself, and when he did, he slid forwards, kicking out to the side with his left, going for her damaged shin-

He knew she would block. That was the easy play... but the real question was, would she know that, too? Would she see a true strike, or the feint it truly was?

For his real blow was coming from the right, his fist cocked back close to his side, ready to explode and straighten into her exposed left kidney.

Razkar had questions, concerns, but they had vanished for now. He smirked inwardly even as he forced his mind to clear, thinking not doing anyone any good in combat this fast and vicious.

Perhaps this is her great feint, he thought briefly, right before he stopped being introspective entirely, to stop those questions she fears more than pain...

[Tinnok]

For a brief moment, blasphemous thoughts ran through the half breed's minds. The sight of a muscular male, focused and intent as his smooth motions pummeled her from all angles...she wondered how Myrian society had become the way it was. As her body ducked and moved she knew she was the more agile, yet their was power and finesse in his movements that she could not hope to match, not with her inferior skill...She wondered what her mother would think.

It was around then that he aimed the blow for her already bloody shin. The half breed snarled and twirled to dodge the attack...only to feel gut wrenching pain as the full weight of the Eagle slammed into her kidney.

She toppled backwards, barely able to coordinate the fall into a reverse somersault that raised her shakily to her feet, breath heaving out of already sore lungs. Well that was just grand. She wiped more blood from her mouth, tasting the strange mixture of mud and crimson roll around her palette before walking back towards him, her steps nearly shaking.

She let him come in for an attack then, his body slick with moisture from the jungle and his own exertions. There was a confidence in his posture that perhaps she could use, making sure he thought he had the upper hand...even if it was true.

So when his body charged forwarded she feinted her own dodge. He was clever enough to see it for what it was, but as she backed away and his movement mirrored her own, she dropped her weight to her back hands, gasping out in pain as her whole body weighed upon them, kicking out her feet viciously towards both of his shins. Shortly after the attack, success or failure, her body slid upon the moist ground, and she slid to the side, rolling about to rise again, every part of her screaming with the effort. Apparently it wouldn't take long to beat the half breed into submission.

She wished the fight to last a bit longer...to make sure that his unanswered questions were delayed that much further. That was the blasted thing about this Eagle, he was a clever bird, one that didn't let things sit, and always caught the little details. It was why he was so interesting to her, but could also be a pesky personality trait when one wished to hide or shove things off to the side.

[Razkar]

He was bigger and stronger and, even if he did say so himself, his skill in this brawling, vicious little game was greater than Tinnok's. But her sheer perseverance and unpredictability was surely making up for it.

That and cunning. Always cunning.

She feinted and he saw it, but she used his own trick against him, falling back and drawing him close, then-

-her hands shot down, bracing herself against the ground. He paused, fatally-

-just as he legs kicked out, both at once, slamming into his shins-

-his bleeding, bruised shins, torn open from the fall on the climb up-

-and he yelped in pain as the dull ache became raging agony, stagger becoming a topple as he went down to one knee. He held up both hands but was stunned after that acrobatic display to find her struggling to get up, winded...

But that wouldn't last. He knew from experience that she wouldn't give up, wouldn't stop unless she was either dead or unconscious. He growled low in his throat, shaking the sweat and spray from his face with one furious toss, then got back to his feet just as she did hers.

Razkar slid to her right and aimed a haymaker at her head, knowing she would duck it-

-left knee jerking up towards her belly but she as learning, adapting, and both her hands snapped down to bring his knee to a stop, crossed palms slamming it back down-

-but not his left arm, which swung round, folding almost in two-

-elbow headed straight for her jaw.

No thoughts. No pondering. Just a whispered, buried... feeling. One that told him that whatever she was hiding through this furious display was worth her getting battered and savaged for.

Razkar buried it a little deeper. There was still a fight to win.

[Tinnok]

"Petching shyke, you fecking shat nosed bullocks eating gripe dumper!" It was impressive she could even speak after such a blow to her face, but somehow the half breed managed it. Any harder and he would have dislocated the thing. The only aspect of the whole ordeal that had saved her was the tilt of her head, the blow catching her more indirectly than directly. Didn't mean it hurt any less...there would just be only a dog sized mark instead of a Tskanna sized one.

But this was part of the play as well. She was a careful creature. You had to think on our feet when the whole world was out to get you, and she could always rely on the Myrian to be honorable when he respected his opponent. Even though her arm was covering most of her face, she could see that his stance was paused, waiting for her to recover. She bent her legs, panting to catch her breath (which was certainly not acting on her part), then she jumped forward, aiming to box him square in the nose.

Just as she knew his honor, though, he knew her tricks. His head snapped back like it was built on a spring, and his whole body moved to dodge. Her own tilted with his, so both of the warriors turned, like a strange bloody dance.

She couldn't help but smile as their feet moved in strange syncopation with each other, fists hurled through open air, bodies gyrating and matching their opponents moves. She was quick, but he was clever and strong, and if his blows didn't hit her directly, they left glancing pains across her midsection and legs.

After a time of this, the two warriors circling each other in a strange nearly delirious battle, she gazed into his dark intelligent eyes, blood running down the corner of her lip, red welts crossing her skin from him and the small mountain they had traversed. She saw a glimmer in his eyes, one of victory and satisfaction. Despite her inferior skill, she was a bit taken aback by his confidence. She wasn't so petching weak that he would feel that full of himself, was she?

And that was when two powerful hands sent her flying off the ground...and into the water.

[Razkar]

Gripe dumper?

Razkar opened his mouth to form those words but before he got the chance she was flying at him again, striking as fast as the snake blood in her. He twisted away and felt his shin creak, barely avoiding her, jutting out with his own right fist in retaliation-

-but she twisted away, hobbling slightly but eyes flaring. A moment's pause and she was at him again, body spinning and twisting to deliver a kick to his side-

-that his left forearm only just blocked, right hand snapping inwards to strike at her thigh-

-but she jumped back before the blow could connect. Circling... circling...

For what seemed like a bell they followed that routine: observe, target, strike, defend, counter, release. Sometimes the blows were heavy and painful, sometimes just glancing, and Razkar wasn't having it all his own way... but he was wearing her down. Inch by inch, her stance was lowering, he movements becoming just a mite more sluggish.

But she would not relent. She would not back down. She would fight on her feet or her knees or her belly, but...

Water shimmered behind her, and Razkar stopped circling. She did the same.

Enough.

The male lunged forward with a growl, arms spread wide. She put up her own to defend against his wide strikes-

-but they weren't wide. Not at all.

His arms snapped back together straight in front of him, elbows bent and when he was close enough-

-he yelled and pounded both open palms into her chest, knocking her backwards-

-burying her in cool yet steaming water with an outraged yelp.

Razkar stood there, panting on the water's edge, waiting for her to surface. She did so with a splash and a flash of dark, lank hair. Eyes raged with hatred and a stream of oaths obscene even by Barracks standards was pouring from her twisted lips. Razkar cocked an eyebrow and observed her, arms folded.

"Hey, what's a gripe-"

A low growl from behind him. The padding of soft feet with serious weight behind it. Razkar's face drained of color and his cocky smile fled for the hills.

Oh, no. Back up.

He turned just in time to see Dog suspended in the air, front paws out, apparently having learned a new trick, too.

Eighty pounds of pissed-off dog flesh pounded into his upper body and soon his world was nothing but noiseless, rushing water, too.

[Tinnok]

Cool water pulled away the initial layers of mud, blood, and sweat, pulling them down into alarmingly clear spiraling eddies down with the current of the falls. She surfaced like a water snake, only her eyes and undone hair floating around her in a nearly black halo around her. After her epithets and his posture, she was about to curse at him more when she heard that unmistakeable growl.

"Dog, wait!"

But it was already too late. She could still take a wondrous pleasure in the transformation of his features and the full weight of the male smacking against the water. And the canine came jumping in after him. She was between play and fighting when Tinnok's hand brushed against soggy fur, sending images of two dogs growling and fighting each other for dominance. Of course their fight had been started over slightly more complex issues...but essentially that was what all violence from creature or man came down to...dominance and power. The Deepwoods dog calmed, and the next nip she took at the Eagle was substantially more playful as she paddled canine style in between the two warriors.

Tinnok swept up a splash of water and sent it flying towards the dog, who attempted to catch the spray as one might a stick or ball, jaws snapping as the water disintegrated around her. And just like that the half breed was centered again. Then her shin brushed against a jagged rock and she groaned in pain, taking greater care where to place her feet.

A calm silence fell between the two then, interspersed with the canine catching water, her lithe four legged body slowly paddling off to fight the more powerful currents closer to the falls. Tinnok was content to tread water, splaying her legs and lying upon her back, floating in the cool calm pool. She undid the rest of her hair, and it spread out in a strange fan out around her, impossibly long for how tightly knotted and coiled it lay around her head. There and then was the most Myrian she had ever appeared, her eyes were closed, skin dark enough, and the glistening upon her flesh did not come from her layer of scales, but the reflection of water upon her skin. She felt the most Myrian in these times as well...but only because not once would he mention it...he called her wolf, not snake.

She liked this peace. It was strange to find it with other sentient beings, this tranquility that she generally reserved for beings under her domain alone, and the half breed sometimes why she appreciated the Eagle more...for his intelligence in speech, or silence...

But silence was only there to be broken, as their elder liked to say when referring to the whims of children. She could be rude and wait for him to broach it, with the questions and demands of her behavior he must have, or she could explain.

"I have only had two beings in this world love me unconditionally." She started slowly, and did not open her eyes to see his expression. "One is that petching dog, and the other..." she paused. "Is my brother."

She barely talked about her family with Ayatah...the half breed understood how different Tinnok's relationship with her clan was from Ayatah's wonderful mother...Bennik, the Scattered Bones had never accepted Tinnok with open arms, but they had not been unkind. With her clan...it was a wonder she was even allowed to carry their name.

"He was just like me...the one male in all girls, a failure in my Mother's eyes to keep on her attempted family legacy of birthing all females. She treated him better than I...but he was the only one that accepted me. My older sisters wanted to be just like my mother...and treated me just like she did, only one of them has learned otherwise as she's aged. My youngest sister doesn't even speak to me, but he...He knew what it was like to be considered an inferior being."

She frowned. She hadn't wished to divulge so much, but the words had opened up like floodgates. All of a sudden, the strange illusion of the ethereal Myrian warrior was broken as two golden yellow eyes snapped open to gaze at the Eagle.

"I'm not some little piss filled barbarian sobbing about my life, got me?" They were words said with anger she didn't feel, at least not towards him, and the half breed sighed. "I just wanted you to know why I was so petching angry. You two...you're like some tale out of one of the ancient barbarian scrolls..."

The rest needn't be said. She wouldn't find such companionship and intimacy in this jungle, not from her own kind, not in a century of life. It was inevitable in her service to Caiyha that she would emerge from the jungle and carry out her work elsewhere, but in the meantime...

[Razkar]

Wrestling with the slippery, muscular canine was a breeze compared to what awaited Razkar when he dragged his soaking arse back to the shore. It didn't start immediately, though. For a few pleasurable chimes the two of them just sat there, staring with glassy, exhausted eyes at the shimmering waterfall.

Blooded and battered, of course, and by each others' hand. The way that Wolf and Eagle knew to cleanse their aggression best.

And then the words starts tumbling faster than the water. Moment by moment, Razkar found himself turning to face her, drinking in all that she said. He did not even know she had a brother, but why would he? She'd never mentioned him before. Her family's attitude, well... that was to be expected. She was a half-breed, but worse than that, half-Dhani.

In his mother's day, they would have just killed her at birth, and no-one would have so much as murmured.

"I'm not some little piss filled barbarian sobbing about my life, got me? I just wanted you to know why I was so petching angry. You two...you're like some tale out of one of the ancient barbarian scrolls..."

Razkar almost flinched at the words, but not because of their venom. In truth, there was little behind them, despite how she tried to make it sound. Her toughness in that moment was... hollow. Like a stone wall defending an empty field. Impressive and forbidding but, ultimately, a lie.

He frowned at her, and himself. Had he really been so wrapped up in his own thoughts he had neglected his... no... no, that was the wrong way to see it. You couldn't neglect that which you didn't take care of, and no-one took care of Tinnok but her. That was her choice, too, but...

"Yeah... I'm a lucky male..."

Would she hear the sincerity in his voice? Would he? Did he even believe it anymore? The thought made him bow his head as if in pain all over again. Ever since the Storm and the Cave, the gulf between him and Aya had widened into a yawning chasm, and there was nothing either of them could do to bridge it. As much as he'd thrown himself into his duties, it had blinded him.

The grief for what he'd lost. That selfish, personal pain for his lover that he had always swore he would avoid. A warrior did not need such things in his life.

But love never chooses. It just happens.

"You said... loved." He said eventually, eyes becoming just a little more piercing as they regarded her again. His words came slower, though, as if he were wading a muddy river and didn't know what might snap as his unseen flesh. "As in... not anymore."

Silence. Razkar shook his head. He was wrong to push this. She had never pushed him about his mother, or his sisters, or his older brother. Their friendship was as much about their present as their past. Sighing, he ran a wet hand through even wetter hair, his topknot now thoroughly ruined and coils of black, shining hair hanging past his shoulder.

Almost like snakes. How ironic.

"It was easier just beating the shit out of each other. Or anything else we're pointed at..." he muttered sourly, then shook his head "but you always end up talking eventually..."

Water crashed and splashed before them. Peaceful and eternal. Razkar envied it, and hated it all the same.

[Tinnok]

When he mentioned the phrasing of words, Tinnok smirked "The little petcher is fine with me...even now. It'd be easier for him to be like my sister's, and just ignore and hate me...but he doesn't, gets no end of it from Mother because of it too." She chuckled. Rarik was one of the only reasons she'd ever visit the lodges now, that and to bring back hunts. Regardless of whether her clan would leave her to die given the chance, she still felt that pesky obligation to them. At least for as long as she carried the title of Tempered Steel...and tempered she was.

"If you hadn't notice, Eagle, I don't have many friends I can talk to." This statement was said with more humor than the words would imply, and Tinnok smirked. She was a bitter creature, but considering all the events that had culminated into the creation of her being...she did not mind this solitude, not always. It was just when she was reminded of the alternative...it always nagged at her.

For a moment, gold eyes admired the raven locks of the Eagle, the way the filtered sunlight caught the edges of it and made it glisten, then she ducked beneath the water and pushed herself out. It was hard to push against the strain of the waterfall, and she didn't get far with her weakened limbs. Of course her purpose for this wasn't for recreation. She had spotted a few lily pads out in the water, and coming up for air amongst them, ripped a few of the pads, and a singular sky blue lotus from their perches, thanking the plant before diving back down and returning to shore.

She stood waist deep in the water and glanced at the reddening bloody welts on Razkar's legs, clucking her tongue like a nurse maid, despite the fact that similar abrasions were upon her own flesh. "Shove forward, will ya?" She spoke gruffly, and once his legs hung over the embankment the abomination set her leaves down, saving one and ripping open the thick rubbery leaf with her teeth. A strange almost milk colored liquid seeped out of the gaping wound, and Tinnok rubbed some on her finger. She decided not to warn the Eagle about the stinging sensation that would follow the application of the plant, like one poured alcohol on the open wound, and chuckled as he winced. "Oops." The words held no hint of an apology.

Liberally applying the substance along both legs, Razkar would feel a numbness set into his flesh after the initial pain, followed by a slight cooling sensation. Once that was complete, Tinnok mopped up the excess with the petals of the Lotus, making sure each wound was cleaned. Her fingers and knuckles were cracked and bleeding, but she showed no discomfort as she moved gently over the wounds, wondering precisely how many times the both of them were going to get the shyke beat out of each other than clean each other in the strange platonic way that they had. "I dunno, what precisely is wrong with the two of you, but if it really is like one of those poorly written scrolls...I suspect you two will work it out in the end, yeah?"

And that was that. The tired abomination stood in the water, letting the useless petal drop from her hand into the water, and heaved herself up onto the shore beside him, admiring the roaring of the falls.

[Razkar]

"If you hadn't notice, Eagle, I don't have many friends I can talk to."

His lips curled up as he slid a glance her way, sensing more humor in her voice. He cocked a satirical eyebrow.

"You mean despite your charming disposition?" Something small and rock-shaped flew an inch past his head. "I stand corrected..."

A ripple of laughter passed between them, all the more valuable and precious because it was such a rare thing nowadays. For both of them, he realized. If her attitude with her fang and clan was anything like his had been, her reputation as a hard-ass was only increasing.

Suddenly Tinnok was up and swimming away, leaving him to watch and quietly marvel at the way she moved. Razkar was a young man in love, true, but he was not blind, and he felt his gaze soften as he watched the way her lithe, taut body moved so powerfully through the water.

Images flashed unbidden through his mind, but before they could reach anywhere... interesting, he suppressed them.

Once you begin fantasizing about another, he thought, repeating his father's words to him, whoever you with is no longer good enough for you.

Moral absolutism at it's best, but Razkar happened to agree. Besides which, the idea that Ayatah was "not good enough" for a wretch like him made him nauseous. A smile alighted his face; even more than that, Tinnok was no flower to be picked, like she was doing right now across the pond. She was a warrior, just like departed Erama. Goddess knew they had plenty of chances to get closer (to put it mildly) over the years, and it had never happened.

Because there was no mutual attraction? No. There was. But it was the attraction of two beings whom their society deemed inferior, one for gender, the other for blood. An appreciation of each others' skills and abilities... and a friendship forged in blood and death.

When she came back, the smile was still there, and she seemed to prove his point as she began to tend his bloody shins. No stirrings in his loins... well, that was a lie, but not a big stirring. She was his friend and he was grat-

"Ach, Hells' fuck, woman?!"

"Oops."

Rakar glared at the deadpan delivery as he was sure his wounds began to sizzle. "Your remorse is overwhelming, female."

His glare continued but eventually softened again with a roll of his eyes. Hard as granite that one. A few chimes later she was finished, carefully mopping up the excess sap with the lotus leaves, and Razkar made sure to note the appearance of the little flower. Very useful bit of fauna, that one. She started on her own body now, talking as she fumbled over his knuckles.

"I dunno, what precisely is wrong with the two of you, but if it really is like one of those poorly written scrolls...I suspect you two will work it out in the end, yeah?"

Razkar watched her twist her hands around to get to her back and finally huffed loudly. "Oh, for the gods, let me do it..."

Before she could protest he had slid behind her, spreading the stinking, stinging sap over some nasty lengths of tender flesh that would be purple-ing up nicely within a few hours. Now it was her turn to stiffen and hiss, but other than that, she barely reacted.

"Be here all bloody night otherwise..."

Silence as he worked, and thought. Her words were meant to be reassuring, he knew, but hearing them seemed to just... harden him. Before he could marshal his thoughts appropriately, his words came out in a low monotone.

"Yeah... in the scrolls. In make believe. In a fiction designed to amuse children and make lovers swoon for each other." Bitterness didn't creep into his voice; it battered down the door and took everyone hostage. "The real world is never so pretty, or bright, or simple. All just... shades of bullshit..."

She turned at the intensity of his words, but he did not look up, eyes still focused on her back. When he was finished, brushing the last leaves over the makeshift salve to get rid of the excess, he sat beside her and stared sullenly at the falls.

"Thank you for caring," he eventually said, and hoped she could see that he meant it. The words almost did not matter, and when he smiled again there was a glimmer of apology in them. "Said it before, but it bears repeating: me and Aya... we're lucky to have you as a friend."

There was a roar from beyond the Falls that was far angrier and stronger than crashing water. It came from the skies, a ripping explosion like a hammer on some cosmic anvil. Razkar glanced up and saw the dark clouds massing like an army above the treeline.

"Time to get moving. Storm's coming."