Completed [The Docks] The Bad Touch (Razkar)

[Edreina]

The Docks 76th Day of Summer 8th Bell Syna's golden rays illuminated a sleeping redhead's lids, filling her vision with pink. Leth's time was over, now came the reign of the brilliant sun-goddess, the time when mortals walked the earth and accomplished things beneath her glorious eye. The only thing that Edreina would accomplish, however, would be waking stiffly, sore from her exertion the day before. She rose to her elbow to see her lover laying a pace away, apparently their subconsciouses had decided that they were in too much pain to sleep in an embrace last night. Her hair was gloriously ruffled, and her smile soft as her blue eyes roamed over his dark, well-muscled figure. As always, she was tempted to wake him, force him to grace her with his company. But, as he rolled with a groan, looking so peaceful Nysel's realm, her wherewithal vanished. Instead, she rose as quietly as she could and padded her way above deck, purposefully avoiding the squeaky or creaky boards that hid among more solid kin. Once above deck, she stretched luxuriously, a high groan escaping her lips as she forced the soreness from her her lithe frame. Her toes were touched, arms tugged and pulled lightly, back arched, neck rolled, and even her toes and fingers were splayed widely as she stretched, waking herself. Stretches alone would, however, only do so much for a Svefra. To truly feel alive, she needed the feeling of salt-water over her skin, filling her pores and replenishing her soul. And so, after running a whale-bone comb through her messy locks, Edreina slid carefully into the water, to keep from waking Razkar. The water felt fantastic and soothed her aching body in a way that no medicine could. With a deep breath, she sunk beneath the water's surface and did a few laps from the boat, as far out as she could in one breath, and then back to the boat. Once her body was thoroughly awake and her breathing was elevated, she pulled herself back into the boat, spilling out onto the deck with a content smile. She would simply lay there, the Svefra decided, and let Syna's warmth dry her. When Razkar awoke, she would find out what he was doing, and if she could tag along under the guise of his "student", as they chose to do within the city. It likely fooled few, but when rumors were spread Edreina would at least be called the student of a Myrian rather than the weak little woman he had become attached to.

[Razkar]

Contrary to what many would think, Razkar didn't dream often about battle. He couldn't even tell you what most of them were about. Sometimes, yes, they were of conflict and destruction... and then they were so visceral they straddled the line between dream and nightmare, as if Nysel was testing the definition of both.

Wolf was there... that one time he could remember his dreams when his eyelids fluttered open and the images didn't fade from his mind like morning mist. Rosela, as well, that Eypharian seamstress from Riverfall, and wasn't that the most telling part of his psychology?

The Myrians meanderings in the Dreamscape were so... random. As unpredictable as the firings of his own brainwaves, and he had long since stopped trying to focus his subconscious in that place. But more recently... he dreamed of red hair and freckles. Blue eyes and bluer water.

Those things swam in front of him when his eyes opened that morning. Before the muted strain of his fresh stitches and aching chest slammed into him like that first cup of coffee. Before he swung out from the bed and stretched his cramped, stiff frame.

First, he remembered. And then, he questioned. Where was she?

Razkar worked his neck from side to side, rolling it on the top of his spine, hearing bones crack into position, ligaments loosen... then he stood, and regretting doing so. He groaned, hating his own body for taking so long to recover, and wishing again for the minute tide under the 'grotto to be even more minute.

"I'll never get the hang of that," he muttered to himself in that waking growl, throat raw and parched, "Always feels like I'm walking on the back of a sleeping Tskanna..."

Really? And whow would you know what that's like?

A deep, bass chuckle at his own expense as he stretched his arms wide, shoulders and elbows cracking, teeth gritting as sore muscles strained. Goddess... was he really that old? He hoped not. Tentative fingers felt at his chest and he winced. Yeah, that wasn't going away anytime soon. Well, it had been worth it, if only to put Gerard in his place, or at least direct him towards it.

Clothes. That was next on the list. He couldn't strut around naked, not under Syna's light around these people.

Razkar rolled his eyes, groping for his loincloth. Bloody purists...

Speaking of Syna, the Flaming Lady wasn't kind to him as he trudged up the stairs. Harsh, merciless light bore down on him like tendrils of fire and he took the last few at nearly a run, forcing some speed and power into his legs-

-and finding his woman lying on the deck, head rolling lazily towards him, deck around her glistening with seawater, bare and shining and...

Razkar's body sighed, and his soul did... after groaning. Goddess, how quickly he had fallen. How brutally and irrevocably. Part of him thought about rushing her, without a word of warning, though whether it would be to battle or couple he didn't know. Instead, he ambled over and lowered himself down, legs crossed and forearms resting on his knees, smiling down at the Svefra.

His eyes made a long, slow, appreciative journey from her toes, over her thighs... that place between them... her flat stomach and the mounds of her chest... finally resting at those limpid blue pools she had for eyes.

"Good morning." He spoke in his own tongue, teaching her a little bit of it every day, just as she was doing for him. Razkar rested his chin on one fist, propped up with an elbow on his knee... his other hand stroking her shining shoulder. "Sleep well?"

[Edreina]

The pair had often shared words or phrases from their native languages with one another. Sometimes it was a word for food, or an insult, or perhaps a word so potent that Common could not grasp it. For Edreina, the words had mainly been centered about the sea, its color, how it moved, its size. For Razkar, he spoke of weapons, mostly, and food - typical man things. They had both shared their forms of greeting and of leaving, however. So, when Razkar said "Good Morning", it only took her an instant to recognize the guttural syllables. With a smile reflecting Syna's rays, Edreina replied, "Good Morning!" in her own lilting tongue. After so long, Fratavan felt like a succulent dish as it danced across her tongue, quirking her lips in a way that betrayed emotion so vividly, Common became a monotone. "Sleep well?" Edreina smirked, remembering how quickly she had fallen into slumber's embrace after their late-night exertions the night before. To keep from saying something utterly foul, she bit her lip, attempting to find a phrase a bit more fitting. Her brain had, however, already sunken into the sludge. "I slept very very well." She purred, blue eyes dancing as she watched understanding dance into his midnight gaze. It was followed up by something she recognized as plain as day and made her realize- Shyke. His loincloth reminded her that she had forgotten to don clothes... again. Ugh. More unnatural and unnecessary inventions were never conceived. Before they had become intimate, Edreina would never have been caught without her chest bound. But now? Well it was a rather regular occurrence when she woke. After stretching decadently - arms above her head, back arched, toes pointed - the Svefra flashed him a teasing wink before rising to her feet and retreating below deck. Before he could move to follow her, she emerged once again, hands behind her back as she tied a knot in the linen wrapped tightly about her chest. Between her teeth was a yellow bandanna, now faded to a paler color from a season in the elements. Smiling lightly, the Svefra sat in front of the Myrian, reclining back against the side of the ship long, tanned legs stretched out before her. Moving her hands to her hair, the redhead allowed the bandanna to fall to her lap so that her lips were free. "What's your plan today? And can I join you?" No rambling about the reef for this woman, no sir-ee. A loose, almost artfully messy braid was woven from strips of gleaming copper, then fastened with the aforementioned piece of yellow fabric. As the answer was delivered, a small, delicate smile curved the freckled woman's lips, blue eyes sparkling. How nice it was to have something new to do each day, instead of sitting around debating with past time to pursue. Svefra had, she felt, far too much free time upon the Anchorage. Most of the time they flitted about aimlessly, socializing, gossiping, bragging. Other times they were struck with whether or not they should enjoy a nice day on the deck or go swimming as they had the day before. And the day before that. And the day before that. Even one as awed by the grandeur of Laviku's realm as Edreina found it to be a bit monotonous after awhile. 'Twas why she oft felt the urge to go sailing, to seek adventure. If she would have been told that her greatest adventure would arrive upon Tonio's boat, a captain famous for giving high-priced rides to half-wit adventurers, bearing dusky skin, stony eyes, and an affinity for battle, she would have thrown the obviously mad teller into the Suvan with an anchor around his neck. Looking back now, the life she had been content with had barely been a life at all, simply an existence.

[Razkar]

"Good Morning!"

Gods, even their language sounded like running water to the Myrian's ears. Just hearing two words, lilting and bubbling like the flow of a brook, was enough for him to think he was back in the Anchorage Flotilla, hearing the endless thump and slosh of waves against hundreds of vessels. He leaned down and kissed her gently... relishing the tang of salt water that never seemed to fully leave her lips...

"I slept very very well."

Razkar growled against her, face splitting into a smile as he bit his lip, a flood of sweaty memories pleasurably drowning him. The young male had heard the term "sexual gymnastics" before, but his pragmatic mind had always dismissed it as mere poetic license. The idea of two people doing... such things... at such angles... it seemed somewhere between the realm of the gods and sheer physical impracticability.

Razkar was stunned to find out that he was very wrong. You just needed the right partner.

He leaned forward, loins taking over and intending to recreate much of what they endeavored last night right here on the sun-soaked beck-

-but suddenly she was up, rising swiftly and circling round him so far he nearly fell over. The cock strained in his pants and he rolled his eyes, ending with a desperate look at the sun, as if all the gods were looking down on him trying not to laugh.

"This is your idea of humor? Tormenting a young male?"

Ah, but that didn't last long. Within a moment that dreamy, silly smile was on his face and he gripped his knees with his hands and let his head fall back a little, drinking in the gentle, insistent warmth of Syna. He felt a good day in the works, though was much too superstitious to actually voice the belief. He knew that the Fates did not like mortals blithely assuming they knew their designs.

A muted creak behind him, followed by another, alerted him to his lover's returned and he swiveled around on his rear, wincing a little as he did. Petching loincloth. Not much of a... buffer, as it were, between deck and dick.

"What's your plan today? And can I join you?"

It took him longer to answer than she thought it would. Several ticks, in fact. He just sat there staring at her like a piece of meat, and... finally she looked away, realizing the look large and soft in his eyes. Black eyes so frightening and brutal to the outside world, but when he smiles, their terror drained away and became just another exotic quirk of the whole face that looked at her with...

Something that scared her. And if it just scared her, it terrified Razkar.

"Hmm?" Finally the words registered and his mind bullied his mouth into a response. "Oh! Ah..."

The Myrian took a deep breath fell backwards, swinging his legs upward and back as his shoulders took his weight-

-and Edreina's eyes widened briefly as his loincloth fell away-

-but a moment later his feet touched down, knees bending and he ended in a crouch, lifting himself upright and wandering around the deck.

"I am not sure. I need to go to Coin, as usual..." He didn't need to say much more about the arrangement he had with his shadowy employer. Every day Razkar left for the Spinning Coin, asked Duval if he "had anything", and pretty much every day, the answer was a negative. But he still had to go, and still had to ask. "... but after that... I think go to the Pit."

Razkar felt her shuffle and turned, sensing something... then smiled. The rank concern on her face was there only for a tick or two, replaced by a mix of resignation and understanding. He was a Myrian warrior, after all: combat and training were not just parts of his life, they were his life. Many times he'd told her the Myrian axiom of "no best, just better", the credo that there was no limit to how skilled one could be.

Her lover proved that, every day... even so soon after he'd been battered by that bastard Gerard. But even as he stretched sore muscles and limbered up, a look dark and sexual but undeniably... physical, fixed her like a torch would a rabbit.

"But, before I go... I believe must pay rent for now, hmm?" She cocked her head to one side and Razkar cracked his knuckles, voice deepening an octave or two in a way he knew sent a tremble to her core... but for a different purpose. "On you feet, female. Time for lesson."

[Edreina]

"I am not sure. I need to go to Coin, as usual... but after that... I think go to the Pit." So soon? Usually Razkar would wait at least a day or two after receiving such injuries - as far as she knew - before returning to the Pit. She always worried... Even the greatest warrior could fall to a novice's flailing blow. But, she trusted Razkar to know his limits and embrace them. And so, her fear was often placated into silence. "But, before I go... I believe must pay rent for now, hmm? On you feet, female. Time for lesson." Oh now that was cruel. A hot and bothered tremor ran through the redhead's body at the tone in his voice. Surely he must have known what he was doing to her, otherwise he would not have had such a twinkle in his eye. Standing slowly, Edreina decided to make the best of an opportunity to tease the Myrian right back. Her feet were brought up beneath her, and she rose, remaining bent over for a tick before her body slowly started to roll, vertebrae by vertebrae, straightening with a quiet groan. When her back was straight, she continued to roll it, arching forward and raising her arms over her head as she stretched once more. By the end of the stretch, the scatter-brained woman was focusing more on warming her body in Syna's rays than taunting Razkar as she had originally intended. After so many spars, the duo knew when the other was ready to fight. Edreina took a bit more literal of a stance than Razkar did, crouching lightly with her fists raised, body turned so that she is sideways to him. Every time one started to move to the side, attempting to flank the opponent, the other would move in accordance. It was monotonous, allowing neither to gain the upper hand, but it gave them a chance to feel each other out as they moved, looking for kinks in the armor. Immediately, Edreina was aware of how he limped ever so slightly, taking shorter steps because of his injured hip. She was sure that his wounds were wearing on him in other ways, but she could not see them in that moment. If ever a spar was called a dance, it would have been this moment. Each step was taken in sync, with Razkar leading ever so slightly as Edreina remained on the defensive. Their eyes were locked, surfaces dancing with the thrill that came with a spar. In the back of her mind, the woman wondered how their newly expressed intimacy would affect the fight's chemistry. A smile betrayed Edreina. Right before she launched herself at Razkar, her lips quirked upwards, displaying only a sliver of her teeth but putting a new light in her eyes. She started out with a quick jab at his jaw, striking outwards with her right hand. As the arm returned, she slid her foot forward between his, and then rotated back, attempted to slam her ankle back into his and upset the balance on his injured leg. If either blow landed, Edreina would make it a point to step backwards, leaning back and away from his retaliation, swinging again as soon as the strike sailed past her, taking her chances in an attempt to finally land a blow upon her far superior teacher. She knew that he was holding back, slowing himself, creating openings where he would naturally have none, teaching her what to look for and how to capitalize on it. As they fought, Edreina felt a tingle of tension each time their skin came close, as if it was expecting something. At one point, when Razkar caught her by the wrist and spun her, trapping her against his chest, forcing her to throw her crossed fists out and down while popping her hips backwards to finish breaking the hold, Edreina was acutely aware of the way that their bodies ground against one another for a fraction of an instant. In that instant, desire hot and potent flashed through her veins, warming her cheeks and causing her to go off balance for an instant. Well... this would be interesting...

[Razkar]

The Myrian smiled, which was not uncommon to him when he was on the cusp of trading blows. Oh, not all the time. Most often when he sparred in the Pit or for pay, his face was a deadly serious mask, revealing nothing, knowing that opposing such a visage unnerved many opponents. But when it was one that challenged him, he couldn't keep the pleasure of such a bout from his lips... and now it was with her...

His eyes roved over her curves, her lithe, sure movements. The bruises on her stomach, fresh and stark and ugly, weren't impeding her, and she kept her step level with his as they circled for a few ticks. Sizing each other up, checking for weaknesses, that first opening-

-each appreciating the hard, taut body the other had crashed against the night before, cries of passion coaxed out of both with caressing fingers and the slickness or hardness between their legs-

Then she smiled back, and Razkar braced himself-

-a short shot to his face, controlled and precise, her body lunging sideways to close, but he twisted to his left, avoiding her blow, reading it an instant too late as a feint-

-saw her foot slid between his legs, twisting, and a broken tick of curiosity cost him-

-as she slammed it into his weakened leg, vibration of the impact jarring the fresh stitches in his hip, making him stagger briefly-

-lashing out more out of instinct that training as an unexpected shudder of pain went through him, left hand swinging for the Svefra's jaw, but at half-speed and with a half-formed fist, not wanting to mar her further in a training session.

Yeah. That would cost him.

For she swayed back and Razkar realized with pride she had expected his retaliation, swinging her body backwards and away from his fist, letting it pass her, opening up his side-

-crouching and twisting and snapping her left fist into his soft kidney, drawing a grunt of pain from the Myrian, making him realize he'd need to up his game now, that she wasn't the soft and guileless creature he'd met a season ago.

He spun to his right, weight on his uninjured left foot, his right arm cocked out, elbow stiff and aimed at the side of her ribs.

Perhaps she'd slide away from him, which he guessed she would. His lover had learned much from him, enough to know that once you got a good, solid blow in, you didn't ruin that minor victory by getting cocky, staying close and receiving another, perhaps harder one back.

You withdrew, let the shock of that blow sink into your enemy, giving him no chance to strike back... and then you came in again.

So, if it didn't connect, he'd keep spinning until he was facing her again-

-and take a risk-

-putting his weight on his injured leg, teeth gritted as his limb screamed in protest-

-and aim a full-force kick from his left at her. Yes, that would work... just... fine...

Red hair whirled before him. The scent of salt and moisture filled his nose briefly, touching of neurons in his mind that spoke to him of how it had felt grasped between his fingers the night before, tangled in his own as he mounted her.

The Myrian frowned as his spun, feeling it an apt sensation for where his head was. Pain he could deal with. But this strange and beguiling dimension of a brawl? That was challenging...

[Edreina]

There was something perversely erotic about fighting against someone with whom you had lain at night. The growl released as a man loses himself to ecstasy is not so far removed as the growl that is pulled from his lip in that first instant as he- Edreina barely brought her arm up in time to deflect a wide blow from the object of her distractions. With his arm up and out of the way, Edreina brought her arm back to hammer in a few choice punches, only to watch as his other hand whipped around, catching hold of her fist. Arms strained as they pushed against one another. Razkar could likely overpower her, but Edreina guessed that he was either curious to see what she would do, or was still toying with her. Either way, the redhead had to think fast before he decided to make the next move himself. They remained there for a breath, eyes locked as sparks danced wherever their flesh connected. With her arms engaged, Edreina had only her feet, and her forehead. One look at her lover's still swollen and darkened nose had her discount the use of her forehead. Abruptly, she remembered something that she had seen days prior in the Pit. A woman, of about her height and build, had taken on a man taller and more muscled than Razkar. When the two had ended up with their arms locked, the woman had... Hm... She could only hope that she would be able to replicate it from sight alone. Turning her hands so that she was holding onto the Myrian's wrists, Edreina dropped quickly to the deck. She leaned back as she fell, hopefully upsetting Razkar's already hindered balance. If he started to topple over, she would take advantage of the power hidden in her legs beneath freckled skin by pushing her feet up into his chest, lifting and pushing him over her, making him fall flat on his back as his hands remained locked in Edreina's. Hopefully, if this went well, he would be dazed enough that Edreina could roll to her feet and get out of his range long enough for the fight to continue. If it went badly, she would also be on her back and she did not doubt that the Razkar would take advantage of that if he could. No matter the outcome, Edreina would shine a playfully feral grin upon Razkar, like a kitten who was finally big enough to get an old Tomcat to play. OOCAfter all the times you've modded me- Haha if I took this too far just let me know. ^_^

[Razkar]

She slid away from his foot when he lashed out at her, but he followed it up with a flurry of sharp, cagey punches to her torso and chest-

-her forearms soaking up his power, knuckles raining down on her but she just panted and grunted behind the shield of her limbs and waited for her moment-

-slipping to his flank when he finished his last right, arm extended, and suddenly he was the one being punded, body blows rattling his ribs, the speed of her impressive, making him grin with a fierce pride even as his hand snapped out-

-impact sending a tremor up him as he stopped he punch dead. Then they both broke the rules: they froze. Sweat running into their eyes, but still unblinking; bodies already sore and flesh promising bruises but numbed by their adrenaline... and something else.

Razkar winked as he watched he breath blow ragged from her full lips, face flushed, hair loose now wild around her head. He dipped his head just a touch, letting her see a very different fire from the one he usually had in his bouts... something just for her...

Remembering the way she'd panted, just like that. How they'd... struggled... just like now, pressure building and waning, yielding and reinforcing, the larger, stronger male toying with the female even as she tried to push back. More teeth were revealed; ah, how she just loved being toyed wi-

Her hands moved in a blur, gripping his wrists, body falling back, dragging him forward-

-down-

-over-

-and with a stunned grunt Razkar found himself rolling across the deck. Some torch was lit in his mind and Razkar let himself roll once more before twisting around, slamming his feet onto the hot wood and spinning round to face her at the same moment-

-finding her still one her feet, arms out like an amateur boxer... but fists only half-clenched. Just like he'd taught her: be ready to grab and thrust, if the moment calls for it. Fists are powerful weapons, but not the only ones you have.

A high, rolling sound of pure amusement echoed through the air and sent some crotchety gulls flying him and squawking in protest. Anyone who knew the Myrian well, or just his reputation, would have had to pick their jaw up from the floor as he strode around her, wagging an impressed finger her way and chuckling.

"Good... Good... Good..."

It was worth the butchering of her native tongue to see the wry smile crease her face, the sharp eyebrow that followed it. They'd been teaching each other, these two beings whom Tanroa had thrown together, and much as a Myrian's vocal chords weren't designed for the lilting fluidity of Fratavan... well, it was a start.

Remember how Common tasted in your mouth the first season? Like chewing on ash...

"Pick your moment." He said with that same crooked half-smile, body moving slow and sure, confident as some big cat far removed from the stone and waves of the Syliran Docks. "You are learning well. Good teacher-"

He was on her before the final word had fully left his lips, darting forward and swaying away from the right hook she aimed at him as he approached, feet sliding roughly across the deck. Her knee followed, his left forearm jabbing down to block it, right jerking under her knee, spinning her-

-hand around her neck from behind all of a sudden, barely-clothed body pressed to her from behind and... Goddess... concentration was impossible. His face was buried in her red curls and he doomed himself by inhaling them, scent evoking so much... nearly missing the tensing of her foot-

"Ah-ah-ah!" He lifted her a little of the ground, the hand that trapped her knee now splayed on her bare midriff... bottom finger tantalizingly close to her crotch. "If enemy is this close, must wait..."

His hand moved from a grip on her throat to a caress... finger tips toughened by years of hard living still sensitive enough (or practiced enough) to find the beat of her pulse as his palm left her flesh... and his fingers stroked her pulse point...

"Wait for enemy to lower guard." He whispered, breath warming her ear, unconsciously pressing himself closer to her rear... he felt her breath hitch. Gods, she could practically hear his smile as his words slid into her ear from an inch away. "When he is here, he thinks he is on control. Thinks he has won. Let him think that. So-"

Razkar loosened his grip, his control, everything below his crotch (and plenty above) begging him not to do so... but this was still a lesson, and as soon as he provided the opening she needed-

-her elbow hammered backwards into his ribs, head jerking forward, ready to-

-jerk backwards and smash into his already-damaged nose-

-but Razkar was already backpedaling, snapping his hands from around her back in front of his chest, slamming both open palms into her back and knocking her forward even as he moved back, before the back of her head could connect.

Then she whirled, hair streaming around her like a fiery halo, eyes blue but furious now, face heated by more than simple adrenaline and battle lust. Razkar let his smile take on a more knowing quality... tongue licking his bottom lip very slowly as his eyes bored into hers.

"Very good, Edri. Now... make you move..."

OOCEh, karma's a motherpetcher, ain't it?

Much better, love. Like you said before, I don't need the XP and this tells the story much better.

[Edreina]

"Pick your moment. You are learning well. Good teacher-" Oh hells no! Edreina threw her right fist forward, hoping that the Myrian would just... run into it. As expected, he dodged it easily. But not the knee that she brought up towards his- Nope... Blocked that one. Damn him. And then he had her caught against him, unable to move as she balanced on one foot, ankle rolling back and forth as it adjusted, keeping her from having to lean back on the Myrian. But he hesitated. Maybe if she- "Ah-ah-ah!" Whatever she had been planning was lost in the sensation of his hand skimming up her thigh, along her hip to press against her stomach as he lifted her. She felt his muscles rippling, pulling taut beneath his skin. "If enemy is this close, must wait..." But waiting is soooo hard... Her mind muddled what it was that she was waiting for, morphing and corrupting the hold he had her in until it was something sensual... primal... His fingers dancing over her throat did nothing to help this new image as a dire need developed between her hips. "Wait for enemy to lower guard." And was hers not already on the floor... And then she felt him... so close. So damn close she could make out that familiar shape- She had to stop breathing entirely to keep herself from letting out a small, delicate sound of wanting. It was a sound that absolutely did not belong in a fight. "When he is here, he thinks he is on control. Thinks he has won. Let him think that. So-" A fight... That's what this was. Without the space to shake her head, getting it back into what the moment was instead of what she wanted it to be. The moment he gave her an opportunity, she took it, slamming her elbow backwards and into his ribs; he was too close to avoid it and did not have enough time to block it. In the moment, Edreina automatically prepared herself for a headbutt- -but quickly found herself hurtling forward as he pushed her, stumbling or an instant as her body tried to keep her feet under herself. When she turned and saw him smiling, utterly cool... licking his full lips... Edreina's upper lip curled in a feral snarl. This was all part of his game, she realized, use her attraction to him against her. Well... He was not the only one who could play games... "Bastard..." she growled, thoroughly enjoying the way that Myrian curses managed to convey her annoyance in a way that Fratavan could not even begin to compete with. While Razkar sounded like he was growling as he spoke, Edreina's voice was more akin to water dripping over stones. The little Svefra hurled herself at the Myrian. She did her very best to remain in motion constantly, stepping and ducking and throwing punches and elbows and knees whenever she could. There was no form or figure to her movements, simply a need to... get to him. She moved faster, but his strikes carried more damage, so she tried her very best to avoid them. Sometimes she did, sliding beneath his outstretched arm, but most of the time she had to scramble to block or deflect his blow. But she was getting better - or he was going really easy on her - and few of the blows actually found purchase upon her skin. After being knocked back a step, Edreina dropped her posture and ran at the Myrian, sending them both tumbling to the ground. There was a struggle, but somehow Edreina ended up astride him, hands on his wrists as she pinned them to the deck. Each time he attempted to get his feet beneath him, she would lean back, pivoting on her hips, opposing his force, keeping him in place. Her breath came hot and ragged, but there was a smile of simple exhilaration perched upon her lips, a wild, playful look in her eyes as she managed to remain atop the Myrian, rear pressed firmly against his crotch in a way that... She growled quietly, leaning forward so that her chest was against his, lips at his ear as she whispered, "Make your move... Razkar." Her lover's name was warped and toyed with until her tongue caressed it ever so slightly, leaving her lips as a sigh that sent chills dancing over even her own skin.

[Razkar]

"Bastard..."

Ah, Myrian. If ever there was a finer tongue for spitting out insults, I have yet to find it.

Spurred on by his own language snarled back at him, memories of the brutal Taloba Training Yards making old wounds flare to life, Razkar almost bared his teeth as the Svefra flew at him. While not Marked by the Goddess-Queen, her desire was strong, lending her strength and speed. She hurtled at him from the side, forcing him to twist-

-forearms soaking up a pair of vicious elbows before he snapped out a punch at her midsection, but she was sliding away, on the defensive as he kicked out-

-missed, her own foot lashing out at his, and once again the dichotmy changed, the balance shifted. Round and round they went, Razkar forcing himself to let his student pound on him as she needed to. Her knuckles, elbows, knees, shins... they needed to harden as his own had, creaking and battered bones replenishing themselves with fresh muscle and cartridge.

That teaching regime was somewhat stymied by her outright tacking him to the ground.

Razkar's breath was vomited out in one massive "oof!" as one of her shoulders hammered into his guts, full weight of her airborne body behind it. The impact of their landing knocked more out of him, the two twisting, rolling, pounding at each other with elbows and knees-

-until she was straddling him, sweaty red locks hiding her baleful, darkened eyes. Razkar was pinned, and not just by the strong grips around his wrists, not the weight on his...

He hissed and stiffened under her. All of him. The muscles in his stomach tightened angrily, biceps bulged and even the veins on his neck and pectorals seemed tight and urgent, wanting so bad to-

End the fight? Drag her back to bed? What to do, what to do...

But her eyes... they outright impaled him at that moment. Always they were bright and azure in the sunlight. The shone with life, with an exhuberence and... innocence. But now, hooded from the sun, they smoldered; they glittered in intensity like a predator's, and his for a tick he was transported back to their darkened hold, he body lithe and alive with sweat above him, grinding and rolling and that same hooded intensity bore down on him.

Razkar bit back a gasp as her full bosom pressed against his chest; cloth bindings or not, it meant little difference, and his teeth were exposed against when her breath teased his ear.

"Make your move... Razkar."

"With..." His muscles stiffened a half-tick before he moved, a reminder of what he was truly capable of. "... pleasure."

He jerked both arms down to his sides, so fast and hard that they were ripped clean from her grip as if she were a child. Her look of sensual triumph was replaced by surprise, then pain-

-and his fists pounded into her sides, under her ribs, sending twin spasms of pain up her side, blinding her, ruining her coordination-

-as his arms wrapped around her torso and pulled her close, crushing her in a bear-hug before he threw his shoulder up and to the side-

-his heavier frame rolling her onto her back, their positions reversed, feral Fratava curses already spewing from her mouth-

Stalled in an instant as one of his hands slammed both of her wrists to the deck above her head, half his weight behind it... and the other gripped her throat, just enough pressure to get her attention and still her tongue.

"Now..."

Just before patient fingers began to trail down her throat... across the nape of her neck... heading for the valley between her swelling, heaving breasts as she panted. Razkar dipped low, lips torturing her by being so close, until she jerked her face up against her will with a moan-

-and he snapped his head back with a smirk, drinking in her anger at his trickery.

"Do you yield?"