[ 1v1 ] A Lesson in Respect. (Senga & Shaheen)

[keiifuu]

The young Executioner had woken up restless, and that was never a good thing.

The return of the Horsemen had come as something of a welcome, but not entirely pleasant surprise. How Senga was supposed to deal with his family and his extended family again after believing them dead for what felt like centuries was unknown to the young horseman. And so he drove himself restless into one thing; practice. The lair was new and took getting used to; twisting tunnels led to nowhere and everywhere, and sometimes he had to slip down one he hadn't explored yet to avoid unpleasant company coming around the corner.

But after awhile, the combination of getting lost, getting beaten, getting overestimated, and winning empty battles had taken its toll. No matter what he was doing, Senga felt himself stuck in a hole mentally dug into his brain. He wasn't improving, and his opponents in the training grounds were either horsemen who thought he was too young to be dealing with weapons, too short to make a proper opponent, or were just seriously incompetent in matters of both the mind and the body.

Which, of course, led him right to where he was now.

Hunting Shaheen down like a starved wolf in the middle of winter.

When he finally found the tall chieftain, he nearly sagged in relief. Landing in front of her, the young executioner glanced up, nearly radiating a restless mood. "Hello." He rumbled, his voice thick and calm, despite the pent-up energy weltering inside his bones. "Are you busy right now? I - " He growled quietly, his lips curling back over sharp canines, "I need someone to spar with - someone who doesn't believe that height dictates the level of ones skill."

His tone was dry and dark humored, suggesting that the next Horseman or Initiate that dared to so much as think that kind of thing was going to get their limbs ripped off slowly, one by one.

Down, boy.

Seussi

HELLO HAVE I MENTIONED I AM BAD AT STARTING THINGS

 

[Seussi]

It was no secret to most of Shaheen's friends that she wasn't exactly thrilled by the return of her own family, after having come to settle her heart and mind around the fact that they were dead and that was the end of it. Her relationship with her parents was not the best, and definitely not ideal, and she spent as much time avoiding them as inhumanely possible. Actually, she spent a lot of time avoiding just about everyone, lately. Something was always niggling at the back of her mind, making her feel as though everyone was out to get her, like there was nobody she could trust. Somewhere inside of herself she knew that it wasn't true, telling herself over and over again that she had friends that cared about her, and hiding herself away wasn't going to do anything to help matters concerning her condition.

And so, she quite often forced herself out and about, making her way around the lair, inspecting construction on building sites, perusing the various new shops and stalls that were springing up on a daily basis, spending time in the baths, though that was by far the hardest thing she had to do, exposing herself to the looks she received from others. Basically, she kept herself busy, kept her mind off of the whispers that nagged at her incessantly now, tried desperately to ignore the strange longing she felt whenever the word "home" sprang to mind, and pretended to be fine even when she clearly was not.

It came to a bit of a surprise to her when Senga approached from out of nowhere, having been just strolling along leisurely, the hood of her newly acquired cloak up to shield most of her face from view. Still, given her height and the wings that were really too big to hide, it didn't really come as a shock that he would recognize her. She halted her steps in surprise, head tilting down towards him, her face set in a grim line as she stared at him in silence for perhaps a few seconds longer then what was comfortable.

"Hello." She finally spoke with a sigh, her voice sounding tired and slightly strained. If he looked closely, he would probably notice the dark circles underneath her eyes, the biggest hint that she had not been sleeping well lately. Even the promise of a spar was not enough to perk her up, but she nodded anyways, the hood falling further forward over the golden glow of her eyes before she reached up to adjust it.

"Of course, I would be happy to." She answered, while not sounding very happy at all, and far from her usual boisterous self. Still, a spar. She told herself it might help, that if she could lose herself in the brutality of armed combat at least it was some respite from all of the rest.

"But not here" That part was obvious, and probably not necessary to voice out loud. There were training grounds nearby, and she nodded in that direction before turning on her heel and striding away, only assuming that the executioner would keep pace with her, though a slight pang of guilt for her short words to the man made her glance down towards him, a spark of curiosity alighting her gaze.

"How have you been, Senga?" There, some polite conversation before the a** kicking began.

keiifuu

initiative roll gooooooo

 

[keiifuu]

Senga watched Shaheen with vague concern, though he did not turn down her acceptance of a spar. He kept her pace as they walked from the lair halls to the training grounds, surprisingly languid and graceful in the way he strode. His silence was simple, his expression thoughtful yet shielded. He didn't dare to tell her that it was fine if she was too tired for a spar; it seemed almost disrespectful now, considering that she had accepted his proposal in the first place.

He tilted his head, the hood of his furred hood resting on his shoulders, the bones and skulls letting out a soft, clicking melody as they walked shoulder to shoulder. It seemed as though the recent events were taking their toll on everyone, and everyone was reacting to them in odd and different ways. Kiwi blamed himself for things that weren't his fault, Jay ignored him, Iyari sulked in places where she thought no one would see her... and the chieftain looked as though the life of her had been sucked away by some godless creature in the night. Senga could not deny that he'd done his own share of sulking and avoidance and blame, but after so many nights pitying himself and loathing his own core, he'd done away with that and put his mind and body into the only thing he knew would take his focus in full; work.

Glancing up when she asked how he'd been, Senga blinked, his gold eyes bright and inquisitive. His wings rustled gently, and he hummed in thought, the tunnels around them branching off into many different paths. "It's difficult to say, I would imagine." He answered finally, truthfully. "Though from the looks of it, somewhat same as you. It's been - exhausting, these recent events..." He trailed off, not sure how much to say in the chieftains presence. He respected her, and did not want her to view him as a sulking mess, even though he'd been that for quite some time. The Insanity that still lingered in his skin was a constant reminder that he had challenges and hurdles that time had still not let him leap over, an illness that he'd yet to find the cure towards.

But they'd grown into him like a second skin. On good days, he hardly recognized they were there. But on bad ones, the word home resonated in him painfully, and he felt as though there was something itching beneath his bones and inside the marrow, begging to get out and break free and take him away from this place. As the path they were walking on opened up into the training grounds - blessedly empty at this time of day - Senga blinked, glancing up at the tall woman with mild concern veiled beneath artificial self control. "How have you been though?" He asked in return, inclining his head curiously at Shaheen. "You look - " He shook his head, tawny locks brushed from his eyes. "Tired." He finished simply, glancing out at the open spaces.

Polite conversation before the a**-kicking began indeed.

Seussi

yahhh lets do thees /A

 

[Seussi]

Recent events. Exhausting. Yes. Though she wasn't quite sure which events he was speaking of specifically, since there had been so many. She continued to look down at him, golden eyes flashing in whatever light managed to reach them. He was talking, but she was studying him, studying the marks on his skin, trying to gauge whether they were expanding across his skin or if they were still the same as they'd always been.

As her's had always been....before.

It took her a moment to realize he had asked her a question in return, and she stopped, and blinked away her initial confusion. "We are tired." She stated simply, not even noticing her own switch from 'I' to 'we'. "We haven't been...sleeping very well lately." When she bothered to sleep at all. Nightmares haunted her constantly. Visions of her most recent experience in the Haunted House, a task that Medea had sent her on that had gone horribly wrong at the end.

Her steps came a halt,and she turned her head slowly to the left, then to the right as she had a glance around, making sure the area they stopped in was open enough for them to spar in, especially where flying and wings were likely to be involved.

And then she lifted her hands to unfasten he cloak, pulling it off and tossing it to one side, revealing for the first time to somebody she might have considered a friend the taint that she had been hiding beneath. Wholly half of her body was covered in grey now. It was etched across her face, it streaked most of her hair. It climbed down her right arm and leg, stretched across her belly and chest. It was consuming her, quite rapidly by the looks of things. And with every passing day she worried that she saw it spread just a little further, that she was losing more of herself to it.

Her skin now exposed, her anxiety flared, but she tried to resolutely ignore it, letting her grey streaked wings flare, stretching out after spending far too long folded in neatly behind her back. She let them settle again, her feathers slightly ruffled but smoothing down again as she straightened up to her full height, gazed down at Senga, and dared him to make any comment at all about her recently changed appearance.

And then, without any warning whatsoever, she lunged at him, her dagger materializing instantaneously in her hand as she charged forward, and drove it down in one quick and brutal strike.

HP: 50/50
Damage: 9

keiifuu

....I wasn't sure whether I was supposed to nerf her dice mechanics for this fight XD if you want me to I can start doing 2d8 next round!

 

[keiifuu]

Senga tilted his head at the chieftain, his eyes shadowed by the long tawny bangs. He wondered what sort of strain Shaheen felt now; if the voices in her head were just the same as his, or if they'd gotten quieter.... or louder. His lips curled slightly, his own fingers bending in to trace the gray fissures on his wrist. Where he nearly seemed to be fighting it, Shaheen almost seemed resigned. A pang of worry flooded his system, but he quickly pushed it down and away - the woman knew what she was doing. Or so he hoped.

"We?" He reiterated quietly. His eyes lifted to his companions, a hooded look falling over his eyes. "Sleep is difficult to come by nowadays for many it seems." He settled on instead, sighing out. "Sleep and peace. But then," His tone turned wry, twisting into a low growl, "when have we ever been ones for peace and quiet." He was nearly bitter in the way he spoke, but it cleared quickly, softening out into his normal, collected tone. He twisted away slightly from Shaheen when they entered the training grounds, taking off the pelt he wore and tossing it to the ground. The bones jangled quietly, but the loss of weight and heat on his skin was welcome. The lair was a humid place, and though he wore his pelt nearly religiously, he wasn't one to battle in it when it meant being smothered in overbearing warmth.

He turned on his heel, looking at Shaheen again. She seemed so different no; as though the vibrance had left her. He remembered her from the festival, tossing buckets of water at people and throwing stones. And her here, now, seemed almost a husk of that person that he'd met. When she took off the cloak, he nearly blanched at the sight of the grey fissures in her skin. They climbed her like vines and invasive thorns, a disease that was visible now and clawing away at the color of her flesh. But this wasn't the time for questions, and Senga flattened himself into a cold calm that came only in battles and spars. Instead of commenting on anything, he merely tilted his head; a sign that he was ready for her whenever she wished to begin.

Of course, that didn't mean he was entirely ready for her. Senga grunted as the dagger caught him in his side, slashing at the flesh there. His heels dug into the ground though, and he pushed the pain away from his mind to vault above Shaheen and into the air, his wings a quick flurry of quiet motion. His own dagger materialized in his hand, a flash of silver and bronze as he landed in the sand behind the chieftain and turned, lunging at her with single-minded determination.

Here the only thing that mattered was the battle. Not the grey of their skin of the hollow shadows beneath their eyes.

The time for that would come later. For now, this was all that he had to think about, and for that, he was blessedly relieved.

HP: 31/40
Damage: 4

Seussi

nope, its all good with me! * V * KICK SENGAS BUTT SHAHEEN

 

[Seussi]

His question of 'we' would have received an almost quizzical look from the war chieftain, until Senga went on to talk about everyone having difficulties lately and she just nodded slowly, confused but willing to move on from the subject.

Especially now that there was a battle to be fought.

Senga was a swift one, faster then she often gave him credit for, but something she should have remembered given that he was an executioner, who were known for their quick strikes and speed. She had only dabbled in their battle tactics, having been risen to chieftain from the position of warrior herself, but had always been one to throw herself into any type of challenge.

He was soon behind her, and she turned herself, not wanting to take a blow to her wings if she could help it, whipping them around behind her and taking the blow he dealt to her side even as she continued to turn, duck, and sweep out at him with one foot to knock him off of his guard. She then beat at the air behind her with her massive wings, giving herself a burst of speed as she darted forward to slash out in large, curving blows aimed for Senga's chest. Her teeth were gritted tight, and already a light sheen of sweat glistened upon her brow.

"You are fast." She grunted, "It does not matter what your size is if you can outwit or out maneuver your opponent." An obvious lesson. It was just too bad for Senga that she was fast as well.


HP: 46
Damage: 13

keiifuu

 

[keiifuu]

Senga gritted his teeth against Shaheen's attack, knocking her away with a quick jab to her dagger and a backwards flip. He landed in a crouch, his hands on the ground, knees bent and wings close to his sides. It was obvious that he'd taken the defensive; a wolf backed into a corner by a worthy opponent. He watched her with wild bright eyes, competitive but respectful, concerned but elated. This was the sort of battle he had been looking for after all. It wasn't a matter of winning; it was a matter of finding an opponent who didn't treat him like he was a little child.

"Not as fast as you," He returned quietly, his long wings ruffling gently. His words seemed musing, as though to imply one day though. He tilted his head to the side, examining the chieftain for a long moment. She was tall and regal, but the grey had escalated to her skin and her hair, fissures becoming giant, gaping holes. For a moment, he could feel the whispers in his head grow strong, like a crashing wave between the lulls. What must it have been like in her head? What did the cacophony sound like to her? His eyes lidded, wondering, but there was still spirit left in him, and his mind quickly turned back to the battle at hand.

Focus, after all, was one of the most important parts of battle. He laughed quietly, tilting his head at Shaheen. "It does not matter indeed - but I would not mind being taller. Our brethren are all - ah - very well built, compared to this - to me."

Without waiting for a response, Senga shot forward, leaping to knock a knee into Shaheen's abdomen before aiming the dagger at her exposed shoulder, as though attempting to knock the woman's balance away from her with a flurry of quick movements.

Shaheen was definitely going to school him, but he wasn't going down without a fight.

HP: 18/40 gj shaheen
Damage:
FEAR: Y2 Battle Cry using

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

Her dagger was driven away from it's course with a clash of steel against steel, her arm forced to the side and leaving her quite open to an attack that didn't come quite as quickly as she expected. No, her brother of war first threw himself into a backflip, and she had to admire his grace for the brief moment that it occurred in, before she found a swiftly kicking foot arcing towards her.

Cursing under her breath, she let her dagger poof out of existence as she blocked the blow with two hands. The dagger strike that quickly followed was a harsh blow that pierced against her Fear shield, sending pain rippling against her body. With a small cry that she couldn't quite stifle from passing her lips, the woman raised an arm to send a backhand back towards the executioner in return, her dagger suddenly appearing in her hand yet again.

And that's when it happened. A surge of voices so strong they were almost overwhelming, rising emotions inside of her like an in controllable storm. Anger, paranoia, it was fed into her at strengths she had never experienced, and her golden eyes blazed in what might have looked for just a split second like panic.

He was not her friend. He was trying to kill her. He was going to keep her away from---

The blade of her dagger suddenly began to glow with a pulse of yellow somehow less bright then it should have been, as though muddied or tainted. The cheiftain surged forward, a strange feeling of power coursing through as she lifted her dagger, and slammed it down on Senga, her enemy, with a satisfying force.

"You won't stop us." She hissed, teeth clenched as she snarled, forgetting that this was meant to be a spar to teach, to help train, not to completely destroy her opponent. All there was, was the voices. They were what guided her chaotic actions right now. She had lost control.

HP: 27 gj Senga
Damage: 24 IDKIDEK THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE!!!
Fear: Y3 Battle Cry-using Y2-???

keiiffu

I--I--uh--- /stares at the dice and weeps

 

[keiifuu]

The clash of steel on steel and the scent of sweat and dirt in the air had lured Senga into a sense of calm. He'd forgotten about the voices hissing and crackling in his head, the grey that marked both of their skin. He parried and thrusted with his dagger, matching Shaheen stride for stride as they moved back and forth across the sparring ring. It was exhilarating - an opponent he was pleased to be able to duel with.

He caught the sight of the dagger reappearing in Shaheen's hands, a flash of steel that he had to be careful of. His lips thinned, and he moved to pull away and gain distance. Lord knew she was a menace up close, and he didn't fancy getting stuck in her claws again. But something caught him just as he was unfurling his wings to give a backwards rush. A change in the air that seemed so heavy it was almost palpable. His breath hitched in his throat, and a sudden sense of danger raked its claws up his spine, telling him to run.

But he'd given Shaheen the time she'd needed to catch him off guard.

He gagged on his own breath when Shaheen caught him hard with her dagger, crumpling to one knee beneath the sudden weight of pain as the FEAR shield around him splintered. He moved to push himself back, out of the range of power, but the accompaniment of sudden pain and foreboding made him slow. He could hear his own voice in his head, dull and diluted and far away telling him to move; he'd been trained to expect pain, trained to ignore it and to make sure to use it to his own advantage. But there was something off about Shaheen, a sickening pulse of color against the cool metal of her dagger that seemed wrong somehow.

He couldn't do anything but crouch and parry and desperately attempt to fend away Shaheen's blows as they came. He could feel his skin opening, tearing, ripping where her dagger caught him, and his own mind seemed muggy and hazed as the exhaustion he'd pushed to the back of his mind came surging forward with a deliberate tidal force.

He opened his mouth, but choked on her name. There was a static black at the edge of his vision, his body heaving from the exertion and pain. His wings spasmed, and his mind went blank for one terrifyingly long moment, centering on nothing but the open wounds on his body, stinging, burning, angry and warm.

The last thing he saw before the black swallowed his vision whole was the sight of Shaheen, the grey of her skin and the expression in her eyes, and as he fell into darkness, the swell of voices in his own head rose up to greet him, a cacophony of sound that lulled him into the welcoming dark.

HP: gj gj shaheen

Seussi

GJ SHAHEEN YOU KNOCKED HIM OUT R U HAPPY NAO

 

[Seussi]

She couldn't stop. She didn't stop until her opponent fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, her breathing heavy, her hands clenched into fists, one with fingers wrapped tight around the hilt of her dagger even once the battle had obviously come to an abrupt end. She glared down at the unconscious form of Senga, her emotions running rampant, voices in her head, and not just those of the whispers, telling her what course of action she should now take. Run. Attack again until he dissipated, attack relentlessly until he never returned. Attack or find yourself at the wrong end of blade in the future when he finds you.

But no, there was something inside of her that struggled to the surface, to take control once more, to talk sense into the thoughts that swirled before a hasty decision was made. Her breathing began to slow as realization and cold horror began to dawn in her eyes, melting away the sudden and unprecedented hatred that had rested there before.

"Senga?" She whispered to a form on the ground that could no longer hear her, and with a choked off sound in the back of her throat she dropped to her knees beside him, her dagger gone in an instant as hands came to fuss over him, laying on any open wounds, willing him to regain Fear and heal. But she was no healer, not like Shik, at least. Her Fear did not respond to her wishes, did not flow into the body of her friend to mend what it could. She was a fighter, a warrior, and could only hurt and destroy.

Still, she did what she could, fussing over bandages, wrapping the worst of any wounds that had occurred, before slipping arms beneath him and struggling to her feet with the weight of a man who might have been small in comparison to her but was by no means light.

She would find him a comfortable place to rest. She might even find somebody who could offer some skills in healing to help with patching him up. She would apologize for what had happened when he awoke. But Shaheen knew now, for certain. Whatever she had lost on that task that Medea had set her own, she had apparently gained something as well. Strength and power. Had it been worth it?

Staring down at the body in her arms, she could only shake her head and close her eyes, and murmur quietly that she would give it back, if she could, before setting off.

keiifuu

here have a closing post!