[1v1] Target Practice (Lan and Shik)

[medigel]

The first reply Lan received was a horselike snort. The second a glare. The third a simple, "Are you ready this time?"

Shik hated his life. Not even just the fact that he was sold off for six seeds, which wounded his pride more than he thought, but for the fact that it had been done thanks to Shaheen's meddling, the woman who had professed to never wanting to see him again. She could plead Insanity all she wanted, but that flip flopping attitude was grating enough that even just thoughts of the chieftain infuriated him. And, luckily, there was a target willing to present herself to vent that anger.  

[medigel]

If there was a way to dislike the noble woman more, Shik was about to find out. The hair toss, the flippant comment, everything about Lan's nonchalance irritated him to the point that when he summoned his dagger, the manner in which he lunged at her was particularly vicious, as was the glint in his eyes.

She wanted a moving target? Fine.

She didn't want to be bored? Fine.

Shik was more than happy to work her Fear Shield until he could cut her a new hole to laugh out of. Dagger in one hand, claws outreaching from the other, he growled and swiped with each in an x motion.

HP: 40
Damage: 10
Fear: Chill Y2  

[medigel]

The whack barely registered in the midst of his fury, her efforts only minute in their effectiveness to stop him. Shik was one who restrained emotions well enough normally, but anger was his weakest point. And her sharp cry only reminded him how of she had goaded and waved away at the auction, all the superior airs of Conquest coming off her in waves he almost could have visibly seen. And even Shaheen had been giving off her own smug aura in how she had restrained him and put him out like a prize pet.

Both of them would get their due. Lan was just unfortunately first.

The executioner shrugged off her bow and pursued after Lan, baring his teeth as he arced his dagger towards her again.

HP: 38
Damage: 9 jeez he really hates you today
Fear: Chill Y2  

[medigel]

The blow was harder this time. Good. Excellent. He preferred it if his prey struggled, as what was the fun in something one-sided? Shik actually managed a dark grin as Lan called him savage because it was the perfect way to describe him - a compliment even.

With the blunt end of his anger past and his point made evident, the horseman made a parting swipe with his nails at her and her layers and layers of clothes and hopped back, dagger held at a downward angle. "As the lady wishes," he said in a mockery of nobility, even effecting a small bow.

HP: 32
Damage: 6
Fear: Chill Y2  

[medigel]

There was a moment where Shik's focus shifted to the result of his last attack, which . . wasn't exactly an uncommon sight for him at this point. War women barely wore clothes as it was, so little accidents such as these happened.

Nevertheless the pause was all it took before Lan was upon him, a fury of fists and kicks and strikes from her bow that he could not stop. Even amidst the damage to his shield, he could still glean a modicum of satisfaction in making her scream. He had said he would make her day a hell, and Shik was not about to renege on that promise. And if it meant shifting backwards and defending himself from the onslought, so be it.

"Clothes can be mended, oh noble one," he pointed out, still mocking her and her customs to feed her anger further. "Shall you put me to the needle and thread as well?"

HP: 22
Damage: it was super effective
Fear: Chill Y2  

[medigel]

The devolving into a foreign language made him bark with harsh laughter. Oh this was just precious: a noblewoman degraded to screeching and beating fists. Now this was a sight - and oh how it empowered him to know that he had caused it.

"Scream for me, banshee," Shik half spoke, half crooned, a dark and impish look on his face as he aimed a kick to force her away. With a beat of his wings he took to the air, just as Lan had asked before. She looked better this way - not simply in wardrobe, but in the purity of her fury, in that base emotion that crept into all creatures regardless of birth.

Even if she struck him from the air and defeated him in combat, it wouldn't matter to him: a different battle had already been won.

HP: 22
Damage: 8
Fear: Chill Y2  

[medigel]

A rock. It had to be a rock like Shaheen's favored weapon second only to her own. It smacked against one of his wings before he could properly dodge and dropped him several feet before he caught himself, hissing with pain.

"Words, words, words. Is that all you can throw at me, Lan?" he challenged as he hoisted himself back up with a few painful wingbeats, refusing to be downed with just one hit on pride alone. "Once again you've called me to battle and failed to deliver. Why make a threat if you won't do it yourself?" He didn't want Shaheen a part of this conversation whatsoever - no, this was just between him and the noblewoman. Delicious, delicious fun.

He threw the dagger down at her as an incentive and tried to not look like he was favoring a wing. "Or does Conquest require minions to do everything for them?"

HP: 17
Damage: 5
Fear: Chill Y2