Flashback Testing Mettle (Razkar) [Arena of Ancients]

[Tinnok]

She snatched up her last spare dagger, bring up her number of weapons to two once more, eyes turning back to Razkar just in time to see his hand pulling back in preperation of, No, he wouldn't-

But he did, the larger weapon slicing through the air. She bent down, leaping up and trying to pull her legs as close to her rear as she could, but she was a bit too slow, and the hilt of the blade caught her upon the knuckles of her toes. It wasn't as serious of a pain as her spine cracking against stone, yet the feel of it was sharp and immediate, her body tumbling off balance, off of her pillar, hurling towards the earth, and subsequently, right into the vicious arms of her opponent.

Take you disadvantages and turn them to your favor. The calm voice in ehr mind told her. Easy for such a voice to say when it wasn't falling into the sweeping stroke of a carefully honed axe blade, a fist coming out of nowhere towards her side.

Tinnok twisted. She was falling face first into her attack, but she rotated, sending another pain shooting up her back, falling beneath his attacks, shoulderblades first upon the ground, head passing dangerously close to Razkar's groin. Time for her own experimentation was nigh as her head landed next to his left foot, and she pushed her shoulders down, knees bent and feet kicking straight upwards to what she could only hope was Eagle's chin.

Regardless if the blow hit Tinnok let her legs continue up and over her head, tumbling backwards and behind her opponent, jumping shakily to her feet and taking both dagger handles to swipe horizontally across Eagle's back, left foot kicking out into the back of his right knee in the hopes to get him grounded for half a tick.

[Razkar]

How is that even possible?!

The how didn't seem to matter, since Razkar's bell was well and truly rung regardless. A tick after his face crumpled from triumph to shock after seeing her dive under his ax and use her head and shoulders as her feet-

-she completed the reversal, punching out with-

-her actual feet, one of them smacking into his jaw. Not hard, but hard enough to just add to his surprise, send sparks dancing before his eyes-

-but he heard somewhere inside his own head; that primal part of the brain that never switches off, never ceases looking for the angles; the one that civilization and comfort dulls and tries to murder.

Myrians did the opposite: they fed it, trained it, then let it loose.

Roar like a jaguar growling from his throat, Eagle planted his feet and twisted himself around brutally, ax swinging-

-then yelped out in a very un-male fashion as he slashing daggers caught his lurching arm instead of his back, his facing her ruining her strike (well, initially)-

-and he barely kept his grip on it, trying to rally, ignore the red, dripping lines across his forearm as he leg lashed out at him again-

Gotcha!

-free left hand snapping out to grab her around the ankle, hoping to hold her for a precious tick-

-long enough to smash the hilt of his ax into the side of her knee, repay her back for his burgeoning bruise, maybe slow her down a touch-

-and his right foot kicked out low and nasty to take out her other leg straight afterwards. Frustrated anger was marring his features now, making a harshly handsome face cruel under the vast light that hid nothing from Wolf's eyes. Typical male: his previous pride had been wounded, and now he sought revenge.

Doesn't mean you'll get it, boy.

[Tinnok]

She grinned in delight as crimson streaks opened up on Razkar's flesh. Perhaps that shouldn't be the first emotion to cross her mind at injuring a dear friend, but there was the Myrian psyche for you. This triumphant grin turned into a yelp as Razkar's hands curled tightly around her ankle, rough to ensure she couldn't escape.

She had time to shake his grasp once, leg twitching like a fish out of water, but it wasn't enough to get rid of his vice like grip, and then her yelp turned into a yowl as the hilt of his axe smacked into her knee, his kick sending her sprawling forward into his chest, an ungraceful grunt the only noise she could manage as her face smashed into his sweating chest.

She recognized the look on his face, one that was all too familiar to her. In fact it was usually how her sparring opponent's started out looking instead of evolving into it. She let his frustration seep into her, a low growl emenating out of her throat as she placed both dagger hilts against his shoulders and shoved as hard as she could manage pushing him backwards and herself back upright only to realize that her leg was now not as stable as it had been.

Her lips pulled in a wince as it gave partially out under her weight, another raking pain spiraling up her spine. Why was it her spars with Aya never ended in her hurting everywhere?

Yellow eyes glinted, and the abomination surged forward again, forcing her injured leg to stay strong, which resulted in twice as much pain. Snarling she threw herself up, dropping one dagger in favor of both hands reaching up and grasping the hilt of the one dagger simultaneously before driving it downwards directly for the center of Razkar's chest.

[Razkar]

Typical. It always goes too far.

And whose fault is that?

She cut my arm!

But we don't have time for that, and neither did Razkar. No time to enjoy his victory before the supple female had fallen against him, under his guard, a threat, a problem-

-and the male found himself stiffen for an instant in... well, very male uncertainty. He looked down with slightly-wide eyes and saw Tinnok there, not just "Wolf"-

Not that it lasted, naturally. They were still sparring, still brawling, and as long as she was breathing, upright and armed, he knew for a fact the bitch was lethal. Razkar braced to push her back but before he got the chance-

-both hilts were against his shoulders and she pushed herself backward-

-doing the same to him and his knee wobbled dangerously under him-

-the two of them glaring at each other for a tick. Trembling and with their bad legs burning under them, but unwilling to back down. Panted breath that echoed around the gleaming stones, Suna-bleached over the centuries, reverberating back and back until it sounded like a whole Fang sparring down there.

Then she leaped at him, lips curled back from her teeth in a rictus of anger, one dagger abandoned as she gripped the last one with both hands raising it high-

-eyes flashing like a golden storm, split down the center by night-

She's not sparring. She's trying to kill me.

Whether or not that was the case, Eagle squared his jaw and decided this was over. He threw his ax low, in her path, knowing she'd be able to dodge around the ax jutting in her path-

-but only barely, with her groaning, unstable leg, slowing her down, throwing her off-

-allowing his right hand hand to swing up horizontally, bent like one would hold it with a shield attached, angled so that her wrists would slam into it before her dagger ever got to him-

-his left hand lashing out to his her low in the stomach, then he'd move-

-sliding to her side, left hand snapping to his back, grabbing the double-bladed dagger Ayatah gifted him, shoved down the back of his breeches-

-and put it to her neck, both of them freezing, Razkar perhaps with his forearm slashed open, fresh gash added to the two newly birthed-

But Eagle would stop. Hold her there, with his knife at her throat, breath hot and panting in her ear, sweating body pressed to her back and side... and despite the pose and the riot of emotions mingling with adrenaline flooding through them-

"C... Calm," he'd try to gasp, briefly shaking the sweat from his eyes, "Not... in anger. Anger... makes mistakes. You know this." Perhaps even manage a chuckle rank with self-scorn. "I know, I am... not one to talk... but I wasn't trying to carve your heart out... hmm?"

[Tinnok]

Part of her always wondered how much better Eagle was than her. At acrobatics they were nearly even, but at nearly everything else she knew he held back. Perhaps that wasn't fair, for his stance, his breathing, the cuts. They weren't all taken so easily, but part of her knew that if Eagle wanted to slay her, he would be able to, quickly, concisely and with no fuss.

So part of it was the anger, the rage, that he had begun if she was to remember correctly, but also to see what he would do.

Golden eyes, tired, lagging, watching everything carefully. Every move he made was quick and well thought out. Slow her already limping legs with the low attack, which of course she could half leap, half dodge over. His arm was like a rock stopping her arms in their tracks and incapacitating any follow up with a warning punch in the gut. And as if that wasn't enough to halt her attack, like lightning, a new weapon, hidden the whole battle, touched against the soft flesh of her neck.

He had to do this to her. To hold her back. Is it really from injuring himself though, or what he could do to you? That made her grimace again. He urged calm, but she felt something apart from that roiling within. He had planned and decided to end the battle all with several ticks, and all she could manage was triyng to stab him in the chest with a single dagger.

Part of her was loathe to seperate herself from the male. It was little enough that he ever ventured so close to her, save in the heat of battle, but the tickle of his breath in her ear was stirring something other than frustration, and she didn't trust...

Tinnok ripped herself away, rotating, stepping back one slow and wobbly step at a time, flipping her dagger hilt high up into the air and catching it from the tip, eyeing her reflection in the steel. It was then slid into her belt, and she retrieved her water skin, taking it back over to Eagle and snatching his arm roughly before pouring the cool clear water over the cuts she had given him. She did not respond to his words, knowing whatever she said would simply be a childish retort. In the end she was simply too upset to realize how inferior to him, and it was a feeling that had little to do with her Myrian upbringing. Long ago she had thrown away the idea that females were greater than males. In all but a few ways she had found this a silly notion, yet what would her mother think of her having seen that fight?

The same thing she thinks everytime she sees you most like. Tinnok took the least sweaty corner of the loose cotton covering her chest and wiped away the blood and sweat from around Eagle's wound, shaking her head.

[Razkar]

She wasn't trying to kill him anymore, but true to form, Eagle just felt worse for abruptly bringing their spar to a close. Her silence was all the critique he needed.

She wanted to keep going, and you made her feel... weak. Unskilled.

Well, what else is there? You only become better by fighting your betters. Give it a few years, and blood will out.

Razkar knew that little phrase had been spat at her countless times. All who knew Tinnok sneered at her if they were feeling charitable; a lifetime's worth of bruises told of those who were not so "restrained". But the young Shorn Skulls was perhaps the only one who meant it the other way.

She is more than tainted; more than an abomination. She is Tinnok of the Tempered Steel, fine warrior and loyal Daughter of Myri. One day... Goddess, one day, the rest will see that...

The thought was enough to take the sting from her ministrations as she as she roughly tended to him-

"Shyke!"

-well, most of it. A cocked eyebrow was all it took to quell his complaints, keeping still as she cleaned the blood from his arm. Razkar reached down and pulled a length of vine free from its roots by a fallen pillar. He held one end tight in his mouth, winding the rest around his arm, a makeshift tourniquet and bandage for his wound.

Tight as well, because-

"We're not done yet, Wolf," he said in a low, animal tone, trying to raise some light in her eyes with his name for her, "Just the first part..."

He stepped back and undid his belt, letting it fall to the dusty stone, naked now save for his loincloth. Eagle cracked his knuckles and flexed his arms, making his muscles rippling, tensing and testing them with his eyes squinted and his knee aching-

-until he bent low... teeth gritted... and rose with a slow exhale.

"Perhaps I just feel safer with you minus a blade, hmm?" He said with a wink, assuming his stance: perpendicular to her, arms up, half-closed into fists, "Your move, female..."

[Tinnok]

She couldn't keep her lips from slipping upwards at his complaints. So tough in a fight, but just a little bit of a sting in a wound and all men went crying like babes. She took a step back, watching him haphazardly dress the wound as she took a long swig of water, droplets dribbling down her face and chest.

And then genuinely smiled at his words. She took a moment to stretch her wounded knee, arching her back and then took half a pace back and held up her fists as well. She knew a bit about Brawling, but found it far easier to lash out and make unarmed or dirty fighting decisions with a weapon in hand. Now he was unarmed and so...

She undid her belt as well, throwing it backward with the rest of her armaments before stepping up to him.

She did this slower, partially because of her injuries, and also because this was for learning, not for beating. her right foot twisted perpindicular to her body through the dirt, then she pushed off of it and stepped toward him, her right arm in a defensive position, forearm up and blocking her face as her left swung out in a hook towards Razkar's jaw.

[Razkar]

Well, at least she isn't stomping away...

The grin that split Eagle's face was an embarrassment to males everywhere, and he couldn't have cared less. To coax one sad smile from that face... that made it worthwhile. Wolf so rarely smiled, for anything or anyone, and even a young dumb male understood that wasn't fair.

She settled into her stance well enough and her block came in at half-speed, the female wishing to learn more than cause damage. Razkar understood: Tinnok had always been best with a blade in her hand (or both), and without them... well, she was good and dirty when it came to a brawl, but that wasn't everything.

"Good form," he said simply when her fist hooked towards his face, "Good defense... and you put your foot into it, too. Gives the blow more power-"

Speaking of which-

-the male jerked his right forearm up and blocked her, knowing her right would be moving a mere tick afterward-

-and he twisted to his side instead, left shin jerking upward between her legs, coming in at an angle and negating her sideways slant to him.

"Two things," he said lowly in that frozen second afterward, eyes locked on hers and doing his best to not make his voice an eerie imitation of fucking Herliz, "If you can block a blow, fine... but it's best to avoid it altogether. Sway away, duck, dodge... let them waste all that energy on the empty air. And second, when you've got these up-" he waggled his hands "-that's where your enemy will look... so that's the best time to hit 'em low."

Lesson over (Goddess, are you really giving them now?), Razkar slid back a touch and waited for the next round, arm throbbing wetly under the rough bandage.

[Tinnok]

She watched his arms closely, but true to his follow up advice, she wasn't looking down, her body suddenly stopped by his legs, his defensive blows hard, though not as hard as they could be as she watched both arms neatly knocked away one after another.

She took a deep breath, stepped backward, then tried again. You can duck and dodge. That idea held in her mind. She was quick, quicker than most.

Tinnok came in again, this time she left her right arm in a non defensive stance, since defending wasn't really going to help her. She brought her elbow up, pushing off with her left foot, rotating her right, and came in with a right hook this time. She watched as he neatly dodged it, her follow up a left hook to the stomach, which unsurprisingly, he turned away from true to his own advice. But as the left hook flew, her left foot surged forward to stamp down on his right, which she knew would be moving to dodge, and she brought back her right arm agiain, fingers pointed staight outwards for a jab at his throat.

Sweat trickled down faintly shining scaled skin, yellow eyes focused. She loved the heat of the battle, which they had been in only chimes before, but this was perfect too, every step and motion was filled with the potential of use in future bouts.

[Razkar]

Whatever the lesson, she learned it quickly. She had to, after all. No-one - kin or stranger - ever passed up the chance to beat one tainted by the Ancient Enemy into the sand. When they first met, even Razkar had relished the chance to punish the abomination.

Much had changed; like his realization that you couldn't "punish" someone for being born.

Eagle drove the thought from his mind as he swayed and blocked, forearms shuddering, bound gashes on his right grinding against his nerves until he bit down and blocked them away. Pain could heighten you, but it was best controlled and ignored.

His mind whirred as he processed her moves, trying to anticipate them, but she was tricky. She slid and swayed from his fists as well as her lithe body could accomplish, and her blows were becoming more precise, ruthless-

-the male yelped as his toes were nearly crushed, brief flash of pain distracting him until he saw the blur of her arm from the corner of his squint-

-fingers jutting towards his throat-

-and Eagle's left forearm snapped up horizontally. No room or time to dodge that one, and if it connected he'd have more than a bruise to worry about-

-knocked it up and away, passing in front of his face-

-and as soon as it did Eagle's head jerked forward, powered more by his neck than his shoulders and back, though. A measured blow, briefly mashing their foreheads together-

-sending them both staggering back, stars absurdly blossoming in the Synay sky and their brains pulsing irritably at the effrontery of being sloshed around in their homes so much. The male grunted and pressed his palm to his temple for a moment, taking time before finding his words, shaking away the cobwebs and the red flare behind his eyes.

"Now... that... was how not... to throw a headbutt," he said wryly, tapping the crown of his skull and wishing he hadn't, "This is what you hit them with. Much harder than your forehead, and hurts you less. And you use your back and shoulders to throw it, not your neck. Not nearly enough force."

Eagle spread his arms cracked his head from side to side. Ah, yes, the makings of a wonderful headache, but he'd survive. Even his knee seemed a little more numb... perhaps because the pain in his head and arm was jealously hogging his attention.

"Everything hard on you is a weapon, Wolf. Head, knuckles, elbows, knees, the heels of your feet and your hands... any blow you can land and get away with, you take it. Never let them think they know all your moves-"

Before the last word was fully formed, Eagle was acting on them all. He lunged to Wolf's right, left arm coming up low in a stomach shot-

-but it never connected, forward momentum stopped in a flurry of dust as he zig-zagged-

-jumping to his right-

-landing on a fallen pillar and using it as a springboard, flying at her left in the space of a blink, right foreleg waiting until his was airborne before kicking out-

-aimed at her ribcage-

She'll block, or dodge, or both-

So prepare accordingly.

-planning to let the momentum of his kick keeping him spinning once his left leg landed, whirling him around-

-left forearm already cocked out to slam a backhanded elbow into Wolf's torso.