Step into the Darkness (Open)

[allistair]

Allistair stood alone in the middle of a maze of dummy monsters of several varieties. Mostly they were Dracanae, Centaurs, Cyclops, some Human-like ones as well. Best to be prepared for all kinds of enemies. In both hands he held large golden war axes, a unique roman style, crescent blades on either end, with an arrow tip on the top between the blades. His long raven black hair in a long braid, reaching about his mid back. He stared directly at the nearest dummy to him, only one out of the nearly 30 surrounding him. He had taken it upon himself to design and build many of the dummies, he and a few of the campers had it worked out so they could train almost as much as they wanted to with them without having to worry about running out very often. His eyes were already pitch black, his eyes narrowed in a glare. The first dummy was a Dracanae, snake people. Two snake-like trunks instead of legs, but otherwise very human. With hardly a sound and a surprising quickness, he lunged forward, spinning, pivoting on his right foot as he threw his right arm to the right in a horizontal arc, severing the dummy's head from its wooden shoulders. He followed through with the motion, weaving low and to the right. He raised back up to nearly fully height as he threw his left hand in an upward arc, slicing through the middle of a cyclops dummy's chest and up, slicing through the head, cleanly splitting the middle. Continuing forward, his gaze fell upon a large centaur dummy, its false bow drawn back as if had an arrow trained on him, just about to fire. He pivoted again, this time on his left foot, moving into a spin while drawing his right arm back. As he completed the 360 degree turn, he threw his arm forward, releasing the axe from his right hand, launching it with great foce toward the centaur. In a fraction of a second, the arrow would likely have been released, the golden axe cut through the air, a small hum sounding as it flew. The sharp blade cut deep into the dummy's head, splitting through the head, the blade all the way in.

He spun again, this time to the left, another large cyclops dummy in front of him. He tossed his other axe up, catching it with his dominant right hand, going into another spin as he swept in close, throwing his right hand inward, a quick horizontal arc, slicing through the dummy's midsection, immediately throwing it in an upward diagonal arc to the right, slicing up through hits stomach, chest, and shoulder. He drew back, pivoting again, lunging forward toward another dummy. He was almost outside the ring of dummies now, swinging the axe to the left, slicing through a dummy's would be throat. He had reached the outer circle of the dummies. His eyes darkened, becoming a virtual bottomless abyss. A dark shadow enveloped his left hand. He pivoted on his left foot, throwing his arm back to the left. With a roar, the shadow enveloping his hand dissipated and formed a large crescent made of shadow in front of him. Almost immediately after it formed, it launched forward, growing into a 10 foot long crescent of black crackling energy. With it it sliced through nearly all of the dummies, cleaving the majority of them in half, leaving a couple enveloped in shadows, with a strange sort of electricity crackling through them. His breathe became heavy, and he dropped to a knee, looking at the devastation he had caused with a wide and rather malicious sort of grin. He had decimated an entire group of dummies single handedly in the matter of two seconds. He was fortunate that they were only dummies, at this point. He would have needed at least a minute or two to get his strength back. With effort, he straightened himself out, drew his arm back, and threw his second axe with all his strength, sticking the axe into the chest of another centaur. He exhaled slowly, standing up to full height to look over the dummies. He hadn't done badly, considering it lasted only about 30 seconds.

He retrieved his axes, placing them on his back in an X pattern, crossing them. He walked out of the training area, figuring he may as well let someone else clean up the mess. After all, warriors were never expected to clean up the battlefield after a great battle. Besides, let them see what he was capable of, maybe it would show them that he wasn't one to be messed with. His grin returned as he walked away.

Note: 797
(I hope this is okay for an intro. Just want to get some experience with the character. ^_^ Anyone can feel free to join, have them see him or run into him or something. lol)

[zidane]

Just another day on the field of battle, Zidane thought to himself as he ambled towards the Fields of Mars for another set of training exercises. What to do this time? He’d already been to the arena in the last two days and although he’d met some pretty girls there, he was in the mood for something a little different. But… He really wasn’t sure what he felt like. He paused his motion for a moment and looked around at the different types of training going on, then towards the walls that snaked around the dummy training arena. He had the impulse that there was where he wanted to go, but not for the dummies. He stretched himself out in a catlike manner and resumed his stroll, now towards the walls but there was a specific spot he was looking for where the slope of the ground next to the wall was such that a skilled jump could get him atop the walls. Sometimes he liked to stroll around on them as a balance exercise, using his twin blades against invisible foes. Or sometimes if someone was in the arena fighting, he’d take a moment to observe them. Usually it wasn’t a problem because Romans seemed to have the habit of wanting to show off to an audience and make a show of how great they were. For him it was worth watching the displays because he wanted to know how people fought without actually having to engage them. It was an exercise in itself to decide how he would approach and parry certain attacks, etc. A good warrior always needed to know strategy, but a master thief craved intell even more. It also meant that if a girl was the one training, he could enjoy the view. A fighting girl was almost always a hotter girl.

At the apex of the hill where it loomed near the wall, Zidane hopped easily and quietly onto the brick, knowing that someone was there because he’d already heard the sound of weapon-on-dummy action from a little ways away. As he looked down he almost thought he was having some luck on getting to watch a girl thanks to Allistair’s long, braided hair. But no, the feeling of all the light being slowly sucked out of the world told him it was the son of Lady Darkness he was watching. He quietly sat on the wall and hung his legs down, watching with interest as he’d never actually seen the other boy fight. Another dual-wielder, he noted mentally, watching the axes fly expertly around. Pretty fast, but slowed down by the shape of the axe. Weight distribution can be a factor and I’ll bet those are heavier than my swords. Nice technique though, I guess.

As silently as he sat he pulled his pair of blades from their sheathes and examined them, running his fingers over the pommel of the first, one he affectionately called “Alexandros”. Alexandros’s pommel was carved obsidian, twisted into elegant twists and turns, and a mixture of imperial gold foiling and leather for a grip, while the blade itself was obviously made of imperial gold. Alexandro’s twin’s name was Garnet, which featured a silver pommel with a brilliant garnet on the very end and several preceding the bladed part of the weapon, which was also imperial gold. He refused to disclose all of the trouble he’d had to go through to get the Vulcan kids to make the two weapons for him, but it was incredibly worth it. Besides, Vulcan had some surprisingly beautiful daughters and it was a really good excuse to talk to them. He examined the blades closely, remembering his time back at the wolf house nearly eight years ago when Lupa had decreed that his speed and skill would make him a good Dimachaerus, which he later found out was a type of gladiator who fought with two swords instead of using a shield. He’d taken her advice of course and trained hard to become as good as he was with the two blades in his lap.

He was jerked back to the present when he sensed the sudden blackness of the arena and the collective “thud” of dummies breaking and hitting the ground. Startled, he flipped himself back up into a standing position on the wall, Alexandros and Garnet still in his hands. He put them away hastily and watched as the boy dropped to his knee. Holy hell, batman. Never seen that move before. He was silent, wondering if it would be advantageous for him to take his leave now, but he remained instead, watching until Allistair got up and started to walk out. It was then that he decided to applaud, loudly and a little obnoxiously to get his attention. Why? He had no idea. “Well, well. Devastation. You are good, my man. But I dunno if you should just leave the evidence lying around. Might have some angry Romans after your ass for not resetting when you were finished.” He grinned at that point, knowing that the boy was probably leaving it as an intimidation tactic. Oh well. Zidane practically dancing on the wall with the adrenaline he was feeling at the moment.


Word Count: 852
Notes: .oO( Hope you don't mind, but I couldn't resist getting Zidane in on this one. )

[allistair]

Allistair heard a new sound as he was walking away. It sounded like...someone clapping? What was up with that? He turned toward the sound, looking up to see Zidane applauding his work. Then, the sound of his voice rang out, congratulating him on his work. Then, came a warning about what the other Romans may do because of the condition he was leaving the place in. He wasn't worried about the others being upset with him. As long as they still respected him and were still loyal to him. That was all that mattered in that regard. He found himself curious as to how long he had been standing there. He figured must have seen at least a little of it. Yet, he didn't seem intimidated at all. That was good. He had found himself wondering lately how many warriors they really had among them. It was likely that this boy was one of them. He looked up at him sternly, his eyes slightly narrowed, but they had returned to their normal state at least. "I'm not concerned with that. Warriors don't clean up the battlefield after a battle. Why should my training be any different? If they want it cleaned up, let them do it. Besides, it would do them well to observe this." He said loudly enough for him to hear, a smirk crossing his lips as he swiped his hand toward the dummies, as if he were displaying them for the world to see.

He crossed his arms in front of him, an idea forming in his mind. He knew a small amount about the boy before him. A skilled combatant to be sure, a warrior who duel wields swords. This would likely make him a speedy type fighter, one who would attempt to outmaneuver his foes in order to gain an edge, utilizing swift strikes as opposed to powerful ones. Of course, Allistair was a dual wielder as well, but while his strikes were fluid, they weren't as swift as he would like. The axes made for more powerful blows at the expense of speed. But then, he had learned ways to make up for that speed, one of the simplest being to let the opponent act first. Plus, it was easier to use his Axe as a ranged weapon than many to use a sword as one. But then, he wasn't familiar with Zidane's skills. Who knew what kinds of tricks he had up his sleeves. This of course, just made him want to find out. "What do you say to a little bit of sparring? Brave enough to step up?" He called up to him, his smirk forming into a mischievous grin.

note: 454

[zidane]

Sharp grey eyes narrowed, but it was hard to tell whether it was in amusement or annoyance. If anything, Zidane felt that his shenanigans would have been far better spent where there were members of the female species. Pretty girls that didn’t grin arrogantly and waltz around like king. Or emperor, since this was New Rome. Who wanted to be like that anyway? His grin gained an edge as he listened to the other boy speak , meeting his eyes evenly. Sure, they sometimes looked like soul-sucking black holes, but it was just something novel that was of passing interest. Zidane crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows at the decree Allistair had just made, a decree that had the ability to automatically endear him to be Zidane’s bosom friend. Not. This was the kind of character that had the ability of eclipsing his desire for a hot date temporarily if only to see that smirk smacked off his face.

Maybe it escalated his feelings a little quickly, but only because the other boy had blatantly laid out that he didn’t care about exploiting people or intimidating them, which Zidane thought was an asinine approach to life (and disregarded the fact that womanizing in his free time maybe wasn't much better, but at least he wasn't rude about it). “I see. You seem to have the misfortune of mistaking dummy-killing for the battle royale of the century.” He examined one of his dirty nails for a moment before looking back at him. “Thinking many people care to see your… Adventures left lying around. Also, if I recall correctly, REAL monsters disintegrate on the field so there would barely be anything to clean up anyway. So… Basically you’re just proving you’re a douche. For all anyone knows, excluding present company of course, that," He made a guesture over the field that could have been mocking Allistair's previous one, "Could have taken you several hours to achieve.” He grinned at that, considering that this encounter was probably passing its point of entertainment value and prepared to be off, when Allistair extended a challenge.

Zidane made a show of thinking about it for a minute, making exaggerated motions with his eyes. He scratched his blonde head and looked down at the other boy, realizing that a) he was being sized up, and b) it would be UnRomanly to turn down a match. It made him all the more annoyed when he realized that meant exposing Alexandros and Garnet to potential damage from guarding against the other boy's axes, but he decided with a loud sigh that he’d just have to ask someone to care for them if need be, but who knew what the dark wave might do to the metal. Without a word or a warning he dived off the wall into a roll and popped onto his feet, crossing the dummy graveyard, pausing to kick one of the fake corpses toward the trash area. he was going to retrieve some light armor from storage. He strapped on some arm and leg protection that was strong but light, then found something a little heavier for his torso. It was unusual for a dimachaerus warrior to wear much armor, but he would adapt to whatever enemy he was facing. He looked out again at Allistair, or his axes more importantly, considering what sort of strategy to adopt. Axes in his experience were much slower than swords and a swing was usually a oneway trip. The kid had already proved he had a good throw, but considering the weapon, he figured the offense was the sum total of the defense. Perfect.

When he was finished outfitting himself, he wandered back in a blasé manner, leaning against the wall. “Where are we doing this then? Assuming you still want to.” He couldn’t keep the sarcastic tone completely out of his voice as he’d asked, realizing that he’d be doing arena drills today anyway, except there were no pretty faces around to motivate him. Whatever. He schooled himself into a business-like state of mind, knowing that there was no point in bragging about advantages against someone he'd never fought. Instead, he ran through the moves he'd just witnessed from the other boy, his muscles tensing unconsciously as he considered how he'd adjust.

Word Count: 602
Notes: .oO( Oooooh boy. Allistair just has that attitude that hits Zidane's berserk button.)

[allistair]

Allistair raised a brow to him as he began speaking, his smirk fading a little bit. it would be a lie if he had tried to say that this boy wasn't irritating him. But then, from what he heard, he had that effect on several of the campers. Mostly the female ones, at that. It wasn't that Allistair wasn't attracted to some of the girls, it was just that he felt he had much better and more important things to do than go skirt chasing. This guy was apparently the exact opposite. To him, it seemed, that it was the only thing to do. What a waste. He shook his head slightly as he progressed toward him, twirling the axes in his hands slightly. "It is unfortunate that the monsters do that, leaving behind so little to show for the exploits. But then, I'm usually just happy eliminating them. I don't need a trophy." He said sternly, looking to the ground as he stepped a few feet closer before stopping, looking to him again. "Your insults mean nothing to me, aside from the fact that it just gives me more reason to beat some sense into you." He said with a slight smirk.

He watched him with a grin as he put a lighter set of armor on. "Armor, eh? So you're not only a loudmouth, but you're a coward too? Oh, I am going to enjoy this far more than I should." He said with a rude laugh, twirling the blades again as he readied himself. "Where? Isn't it obvious? Right here and now. I'll do you a kindness and leave out an audience for your embarrassing performance." He said quite proudly. He was likely going to enjoy this fight, there wasn't a shadow of a doubt in his mind that this fool would be able to challenge him, at least not to a point that he could be beaten. But then, wielding two blades at the same time, would likely pose a problem for him. Sure, he was quick with his axes, but the swords have less mass, and by nature, are quite a bit faster. But then, the axes packed more punch. He trained extensively on how to handle pain and hits, more worried about blocking and taking hits then dodging them. It would catch many human-like opponents off guard. Wouldn't work on giants or anything, but against others like him, it was perfect.

Since this boy was a demigod like him, who knew what kind of tricks he had up his sleeve. This would likely be a very interesting fight indeed. He had only fought a few of the other campers here, and so far, he had a pretty good record. But then, he was no fool, he could admit that there is always someone better. (Praetor) But that didn't really matter at the moment. What mattered, was knocking that annoying smile of this guy's face once and for all.

note: 517
tag: Zidane
(Sorry for the shorter posts)

[zidane]

The first thing Zidane was certain of in this situation was that beating this punk would be a pleasure. Despite Allistair being a year older than him, it was difficult to see him as such. In his own opinion, the way he was acting was childish in a way that was nowhere near being entertaining and it was grating on him again that he was caught here instead of getting back to someone with a better sense of humor. He knew that in terms of being childish that he could be no better per se, but he was confident that he was way easier to put up with. Domination and gathering a following was way less appealing than making real friends. Maybe this guy had some kind of a chip on his shoulder, but Zidane was certain that whatever it was, it wouldn’t make him dislike this guy any less. His stare was guarded as the boy walked towards him and watched the way he twirled his axes. Not terribly clumsy with them, meaning it might be something to watch.

He automatically scowled at the condescending drawl that came from Allistair’s mouth. “I’m sorry, are you confused or something? ‘I wish I could show all my amazingness to the whole wide world with the blood of my monsterly enemies...’ or I guess plastic corpses in your case since that’s all I see here, then ‘I don’t need no stinkin trophy to prove how cool I am.’ Who are you trying to impress anyway? I can’t imagine many girls hearing you run your mouth like that.” If he was a girl, he would have still felt the same way he did now. Maybe even have a PMS rant here, or whatever it was that girls did when they got annoyed. He noticed the boy’s gaze move away from him which confused him a little, but his usually devilish smirk was sharp as a razor at the next remark. “Alright, we’ll see.”

He was walking back from having fitted himself with the armor when that irritating tone assaulted his ears again. In response, he irritably twisted his pinky in his ear as if he hadn’t heard the other boy right and the smile was completely replaced with a mild glare. “Listen, Sengir. Just because you make the decision not to follow sparring protocol and protect yourself accordingly does not mean I have to be an idiot too. And dude, I’m rather more vain than cowardly… I don’t want you to get lucky and leave me a scar that will force me to think of you every time I have the misfortune of looking at it.” His expression was deceptively calm as drew his pair of swords once more, the blades ringing as they came free of their sheathes, giving them a lithe little twirl themselves to loosen the muscles in his wrists. “I almost think you’re scared someone will see me beating the arrogance out of you. But it’s okay if you’re too embarrassed to admit that. En garde!” He figured he would make the first move, needing to test for sure how this boy would defend against a speedy assault. With that in mind he rushed his opponent, slashing forward with his swords, aiming the flats of his blade since he didn’t intend to draw blood at this point. One raced for the boy’s neck, while the other aimed for his hips from the opposite direction. Show me what you got, kid, he thought to himself mid-motion.

Word count: 589
Notes: .oO( Honey, it is ON. )

[allistair]

Allistair scoffed at the other boy's words. "You focus far too much of your attention on girls. How can you be a warrior when you're so busy flirting?" He said to him with a slight glare. He was beginning to get irritated by this guy's attitude. It didn't bother him that he wasn't being intimidated, but it did bother him that he was being such a smart mouth about it. When he seemed to be finally getting angry, Allistair felt that he had finally struck a nerve. That was oddly satisfying. Once it seemed that the boy was ready, he spoke again, twirling his own blades about, seeming to be getting himself psyched for the fight. "Oh, I am going to enjoy this far more than I should." He said with a slight smirk just before he charged. He honestly hadn't expected him to be charging at him so quickly, he was ready for a more reserved fighter, someone much less aggressive. He dropped a step back, dropping the axes so they were upside down, rising one to block one blade, lowing the other to block the other. He wasn't fast enough to guard against the lower one, but the flat of his blade struck the handle of his axe, while the other blade hit his hip. Fortunately, it was the flat of the blade, otherwise it would have cut him. How annoying that would be.

He cursed quietly as he threw his left leg forward, attempting to kick his adversary in the gut, drawing his weapons back before swinging his left arm at an upward diagonal angle to the right, attempting to slash Zidane from the waist to the shoulder. While it wasn't likely to strike him, it would at least show him he meant business. He took a few steps back, twirling the axes in his hands. He was faster than he had anticipated. He couldn't let himself slip up like that again. Especially if this had been a real battle, and that thought was becoming all the more prevalent in his mind. "Not bad. I guess I underestimated you." He said plainly, the words sounding almost like they were difficult to get out. It was obvious that he didn't enjoy complimenting others, especially people he didn't like, but he always respected combat prowess. He could respect a person as a warrior, and despise them as a person, it wasn't exactly an uncommon thing for him. Perhaps he should try and get some offense going. It was becoming apparent that they were both offense fighters. He lunged forward, twirling the axe so the handle was facing Zidane, thrusting it forward, attempting to drive it into his gut. He didn't want to kill him, just hurt him. Because of this, one of his best methods of combat was null, he couldn't throw his axes. He twirled the other axe, gripping it just below the blade. For this battle, he would just use the handles, for the most part at least. it was an unorthodox style of fighting with axes, but he found it to work decently in some cases.

note: 547
note: (Sorry if its a bit hard to understand. Haha)

[zidane]

As Allistair criticized Zidane’s lifestyle decisions, his grin was back, but it was sardonic now where it was usually lackadaisical. It was a criticism he expected though, because there were few roman campers that he'd met that were able to look past his facade and discern what he really thought. “It’s actually a pretty perfect way to deceive bombastic pricks such as yourself into thinking I’m useless. I mean, I guess I can’t be too egotistical and say I’m not useless sometimes, but on the battlefield isn’t one of them. It’s so much better to look like an idiot and surprise the overconfident ones than to actually be the one who's surprised. Don’t make the mistake of underestimating any opponent, Sengir. That’s the first rookie mistake.” He emphasized the word rookie, his tongue rolling it into a curse that he though this particular boy might appreciate… or not. The not would be way better. Zidane noted that his irritation with this kid was making him pull out his larger vocabulary, which was usually reserved for people he hated or very intelligent girls. He always had a bit of sarcasm and a tendency towards the dramatic when he was transitioning between façade of the guy who barely cared about anything except female conquests to the guy behind that façade who was the calculating thief but who actually cared a lot about a variety of things.

“Ah yes, me too. Especially to see who comes out the winner.” He was back in action now, his preemptive strike hitting home: the neck shot hitting the axe handle with a chime, the hip-shot meeting with a satisfying “thwack”. He answered the other boy’s remark with the flash of a self-satisfied grin but no words. He had to admit to himself that he was actually surprised that his attack had managed a hit. Surely with all this boy’s boasting he would have been faster. But he would not be lead to underestimate his raven-haired opponent. Ah, there. He sensed the twitch in the leg Allistair was rearing for a kick, leading him to throw himself backwards into a quick handspring, earning him several feet of ground away from his opponent to avoid the slash and the kick. However, he was solid on his footing just in time to see the handle of the axe aiming for his gut. No time to make a good backward leap, but he brought Alexandros in his right hand up to knock the weapon away from its target and follow up on the defense in a flash with a low horizontal sweep of Garnet in his left hand, a potential slash wound across Allistair’s midsection in a real battle, but here it would be just another hit with the flat of the blade if it met it’s mark, but he expected that the boy had learned his lesion after the last attack and anticipated a stalemate block if he was fast enough.

His mind was going several miles a second as the battle sharpened his mind and he was vaguely interested that his opponent had opted for attacking with the handles instead of the usual side of the axe. Certainly it was safer for Zidane, though he pissed of enough opponents to be avoiding shots attempting to actually harm him that it wouldn’t have fazed him terribly much to be looking at the axe-blades. It was better for his sword-blades though, so he wasn’t complaining. He was curious to see how the style was adjusted with handle-fighting and whether it would slow the other kid down. It was too early to know for sure, but his quick silver eyes were tracking the movements shrewdly.


Word count: 585
Notes: .oO( You're good, I can understand what you're intending. Lol. Fight fight fight...)

[allistair]

Allistair listened to his words, watching him carefully. He didn't want to give his foe another chance to lash out while he was unprepared. He wouldn't make another mistake like that. "Deception? How cowardly." He said with a grin. He was never one to try and give people a false view of him, to make them think he wasn't as intelligent or powerful as he really was. Why not just be up front and honest? If you are powerful, show it. If you are intelligent, prove it. If you have a claim to power, claim it. He wasn't surprised this time at least, he could tell that this boy was fast. After all, he did do a backward handspring to avoid his previous two attacks and gain himself some ground. "So, you've proven you can run away? Am I supposed to be impressed?" He asked him in a belligerent tone, as he charged forward and attempted to drive the handle of his axe into his foe's gut. Not surprisingly, the boy managed to parry the strike, and counter with two of his own. He was accustomed to striking with multiple weapons, no doubt. Allistair wasn't accustomed to defense, and was becoming slightly agitated that his less effective offense was failing.

The lower swipe, and a mid swipe, two separate attacks aiming for separate targets. What a nuisance. This was going to have to end, and quickly. Not the battle, of course, but his disadvantage of the two swords. It was time for Allistair's superior physical strength to turn the tide of this, with a little bit of his own surprise. As the strikes neared him, he dropped the axe in his right hand slightly, catching the blade between the crescents of his axe and the arrowhead-like blade between them, immediately twisting his hand, causing the axe to turn, as well as his opponent's blade, attempting to disarm him. During this, he also dropped the axe in his left hand, turning it to parry the blow upward while also dropping the axe. In one swift motion, he parried the blow upward, released his axe, causing it to fly off to his left, while lunging forward, throwing his left hand out, attempting to grab his foe's face in a claw lock, following through as he attempted to grab his face and slam him into the ground. If this maneuver worked, he would have a hold of his foe while he was not only grounded, but he would likely be down to only one weapon. Advantage: Allistair. "What was that about underestimating your opponent?"

note: 447

[zidane]

Zidane’s return smile to Allistair’s comment about his preferences in his attitude in battle was more present because of his feeling the other boy to be just as asinine as he supposed the raven-haired boy thought him to be. At this point he was starting to understand that the day they saw eye to eye on just about anything except that the other was an idiot was when hades froze over. Fine with him. “Intimidation? Tactless. Uninventive, and proof that you have very little intelligence to boast.” His eyebrows rose to drive the insult home, his expression one of ‘really, dude?’ For a moment, Zidane wondered if this was what it was like when girls got into catfights, just with swords an axes instead of nails and hair-pulling. As a snarky aside in his brain, he saw that Allistair certainly had enough hair to be at a disadvantage if it was coming to that. About the time he pulled out of his handspring during the action, he heard that irritating voice questioning him for running away. “You’re a fool if you think I’m going to stand around while you clumsily swing your axe and your legs. There is nothing wrong with taking a few steps back. You did when I landed the first hit . So cut the hypocritical bullshit, man.”

Finally, Allistair had enough ability to block his double-assault again, feeling Garnet’s hilt in his left hand jerk and he held on as the raven-haired boy tried to pull it away from him. His eyes caught the movement of the second axe as well, and instead of letting the sword go and hastily trying to block the boy’s attempt to grab his face (Oh HELL no, he’d bite his fingers off if he had to), he let the momentum carry him forward, his face meeting Allistairs hand but continuing forward as he fell into the other boy, bargaining on knocking him off balance. At that point as he barreled into the boy’s midsection and pushed, Garnet was finally wrenched out of his hand by the axe, leaving them both at one weapon… for the moment. After Zidane had knocked into the boy, he turned up the speed and slapped the offending hand away from him, twisting alexandros in for a swift bite of revenge aimed for the wrist of the and that held the remaining axe. “Mmhmm, and you were saying? Glad you finally decided to join the fight.”

Word count: 413
Notes: .oO( This is starting to get a little difficult to understand, but bring it! o.o )