snakecharmed | teleios | i will remember you event

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teleios | i will remember you event

For the better part of the morning, I'seth had been trying to fight the feeling like there was something wrong somewhere, that something was coming, some great disaster, and that she needed to get to higher ground before it hit. It was probably nothing -- just because she looked the part didn't mean she possessed any animal instinct to avoid and run from natural disaster -- but the last time she'd felt like this had been on the eve of war, back home, and she wasn't ready to write the feeling off entirely, just yet. Maybe given time, she'd let it go, but not now. She was too restless for that.

That in mind, dressed in full armor rather than the more casual clothes she'd fallen into the habit of wearing lately (possibly at Clem's insistence, possibly not), she left her home, more command tent than actual building, and took a lap around the city. When she finished, still feeling uneasy, she went in search of familiar faces, half looking to check up on them, half hoping for a distraction. If only Paz was still here; a fight would be the perfect thing for her, right now. Oh, well. She'd take what she could get.

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"It's not you," she answered.

With a shrug, she reached up to undo the clasps on the front of her breastplate, working it off as she watched him go for his knives. Armor didn't feel fair, in this instance, either, and she really didn't want to see it ruined as part of a game, so stripping down to the shirt she'd put on under leather and scale seemed the only logical option. Setting it down on top of her sword, she moved to join him, straightening slowly, stretching idly, before relaxing. A gesture towards the door followed. "After you, then."

That did make him smile. She knew the truth of it, the way he was as a man. It was more than impressive, something he hadn't ever thought he might share with another since Alice.

He twirled one of the knives against his palm, adjusting to the weight of it. He hadn't used them often in this place, and in that moment he realized how much he missed of it as well. He perhaps needed this as much as she did.

Winking at her, he headed through the back store room and out into the small courtyard where he grew many of the herbs and flowers for the tea. The center was clear though, with several small paths radiating outward from there. "Come then, my dear."

If she were capable of blushing at the wink, she might have, maybe. As it was, she just lowered her eyes briefly, a dim smile on her lips, and followed him out into the courtyard.

When the stopped, she took a moment more to ready herself, stretching and uncoiling her tail from its usual positioned curled around her leg, and then took up a fighting stance, not entirely far removed from one belonging to one of Earth's martial arts. It wasn't exactly the same, of course, but clearly martial training translated more or less the same way across realities. Not that she gave him much time to consider that, instead circling him briefly before darting in for an open-handed strike, more testing his reflexes and how adept he was with that knife than to actually hit him.

Most of Daschell's training was in assassination. That would mean sneaking in, slitting a throat or putting a knife into one's lungs and killing them before they could take a breath to scream. He knew well that in this moment, going up against l'seth, he was going to lose. He wasn't made for this, and he didn't expect to win. He did though expect to give her a bit of a fight. Just to help her with the whatever tension it was bothering her.

He was quick though, steady on his feet and rarely rattled by anything. His hand came up, snapping his arm up to deflect the blow, making a feint in with the second knife. Not even trying to strike, but to give him the look of being skilled in combat. He wasn't entirely blind to it, after all, just not the warrior she was.

She took a step back as he came at her with the second knife, out of his range and hands still up, and made a small, pleased noise. Maybe he wasn't a fighter, not like her, but if he kept up like that, win or lose, this would at least be worth it.

"Good," she commented, as if the sound and the look on her face wasn't enough.

The compliment made him pause, chin lifting and offering l'seth something few saw. A genuinely pleased smile from the man. Impish, dangerous and mocking tended to describe his smiles but that single word from her delighted him and it showed.

"That is my goal," he said, knowing that she would in the end best him but he would not make a fool of himself before her either. That he wouldn't be able to stomach.

"Come now. That couldn't be all you wanted."

She smiled, too, amused and fond both, and then shook her head. "Not exactly."

That said, she moved all at once, coming at him in what appeared to be another openhanded strike and one aimed for his face, only to drop at the last second, hopefully under the swipe of his knives, to rake her other hand across his midsection or try to. Whether or not the hit connected, however, it was a somewhat pulled punch, albeit still a flawless one, form-wise. She wanted to make him bleed, maybe, since they were going to first blood, but she didn't want to disembowel him in the process.

It was a show of faith that he was even playing this game with her, knowing she could kill him if she wholly and truly wanted to. He knew that and yet he had offered her this, trusting in her as much as he held faith in himself that he might make this good for her. He couldn't help but want to impress l'seth, to prove that while he was a different sort of warrior than she was, he could hold his own.

Or try to. It was tough though, jumping back, ducking down and almost flinching into her torso blow. The sound he made may have been a yelp but he'd never admit it, ducking in and trying to slide the blade into her thigh, a quick death blow he'd used numerous times but never in actual combat. His job was much easier because his targets rarely knew he was coming.

She slid away from the knife as it came down, rocking back so that it found empty air above her knee rather than her thigh, as intended. A careful sweep of her leg followed, to put it out of range entirely before he got the bright idea to keep going, to try and plant the thing in her calf, and then she rocked forward, half-turning, her tail lashing out.

If she was lucky, she'd manage to loop the thing around his ankle and pull his feet out from under him; if not, no great loss. Either way, however, the move probably made it glaringly obvious that the tail was for more than just balance.

While he was actually acquainted with a gentleman with a tail from his own world, Daschell's experience with them was not with a skilled user. Bill was, to be kind, dense, and he most certainly was not the warrior that l'seth was. So it was, in lunging for that killer shot that he had never expected to connect, he suddenly found himself on his back, staring up at the brilliance of the sky and the wind knocked out of him.

"Flirt," he managed to croak out, even while rolling to one side, trying to gain his feet before he felt the quick bite of claws. Not that he was certain he might make it but he wouldn't go down in this fight without trying.

"You were the one that mentioned knocking your hat off," she shot back, albeit a touch hesitantly and if only because flirting in earnest was still unknown territory. "I just figured this was the next logical step."

She moved all at once, trying to pounce on him before he managed to find his footing. Whether or not she managed, she continued with, "Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong about that."

He gasped, hand going to his head even as he tried to gasp a full breath, dizzy and finding bracing his foot difficult. Nothing.

His gaze dropped to the ground, only for a second to see that battered hat on its side. He was stunned. "Why you naughty little minx," he growled, eyes bright and excited. He wasn't upset, not in the least, but he was spurred to further his cause. Maybe, just maybe he had realized this was his moment to show her he could hold his own, flirting in ways that had nothing to do with teasing words.

Whatever stability he had hoped to gain was gone, falling back with a thump. Even as he found his gaze a bit hazy, he tried to bring up one of the blades, not even with expertise, but trying for a blow nonetheless.

Without comment, she made a grab for his wrist. If she managed, she'd dig her claws in a little -- not enough to cut him, to end this, but hopefully enough to make him drop the knife. She said he could use weapons, yes. She never said she wouldn't try taking them away from him.

He fought to keep his hand gripped around the handle. For Hatter this was as close as anyone had ever gotten to taking them from him, and he knew that despite it being practice, it was not play. Not for him, and not for l'seth.

Shifting, trying to brace his feet flat to the ground even as he bucked, heaving his entire body to try and throw her. She had the leverage, as well as those long legs and the advantage of the tail but he was trying it anyway, even with the way his fingers began to go numb around the handle.

I'seth had been expecting a great many things from Daschell, in an effort to get out from under her or to get control of the knife back; the bucking, however, was not one of those things. That in mind and caught off guard, the throw worked to a certain degree, forcing her into a hard sit at his feet.

Rather than sit there and look surprised, despite the fact that she was, however, she crabwalked a feet backwards, out of the range of any kick he might try leveling at her. The distance between them to her satisfaction, she moved to get to her feet, tail swaying like a cat's a play, a smile on her lips.

He hadn't expected it to work, already trying to think of a second way to keep his knife. A second laying there, breathing, trying to catch his breath as he realized he had clearance. Rolling, hopping to his feet as he flexed his finger around the handle, working to get a better grip on it.

His gaze raked over her, smiling as he bounced on the balls of his feet. "You look much too pleased with yourself," he teased, winking at her. "But I still have a knife and I'm not bleeding," he teased. "Coming?" He asked, gesturing for her to make another play.

"Half the fun is the dialogue," she told him, the smile growing just a bit. After a moment of regard, however, it disappeared and, as asked, she came at him again, aiming a kick at his knife-hand, this time, rather than a punch.

"You just like hearing my voice," he teased, though for all he knew it was the truth. He didn't know a damn thing about what kept her coming around but he'd keep being himself as it seemed at least that was working.

He worked to jump back but the toe of her boot caught him, hand spasming and the knife falling to the ground with a clatter. "Nicely played. You think that's enough?"

"I meant more the dialogue of the fight, not you rambling, but ... " But if the look on her face was any indication, she didn't really mind hearing him talk, either.

Rather than say that, however, or even give pause to punctuate her statement with a shrug, she half-turned here, tail flicking out to bat the knife away. It skittered across the ground loudly, and satisfied, I'seth turned back. "Do you?"

"I'm sure that's what you meant," he teased, giving her a coy smile and an impish look. "So you like my voice. Good to know."

His gaze followed the movement of her tail, smiling to see that. He did like that movement, the advantages she had from her nature. "Oh no. I'm not bleeding, am I?'

Then he suddenly dove at her, trying to spear in the midsection with his shoulder.

Opening her mouth to offer some smart answer in response, she stopped when he dove at him, very literally hissing out a swear, albeit in her own language, and darted to one side. While it wasn't enough to keep him from hitting her, however, or to keep them both from going down again, it was, at least, enough to stop him from pinning her completely under his weight.

She'd deal with that in a moment, when she got her breath back.

Another time and place and he might have been wicked and enjoyed it. Instead he was focusing on giving her the most distraction he could. Certainly she was attractive to him, but he realized she had become the closest friend he'd known since Wonderland was destroyed.

Which was why he had no plans to go easy on her. Rolling instantly toward her, working to try and leverage his weight and keep her down, pinned if he could.

Like he had done before, to her, I'seth bucked, trying to keep him from pinning her and regardless of whether or not he likely saw it coming. Her hands moved at the same time, at random, trying to keep a shifting target both so he couldn't hold her down there and in an effort to create an opening to scratch him. Not maul, mind, but if they were going until first blood, the opportunity for it might be enough to get him off of her to avoid it.

He wasn't as quick and trained for this as l'seth was. What he did was kill, quick and quietly. This though was new for him but that didn't mean he would stop trying. Yet even as he fought, almost catching one hand, he felt something. Sharp and painful and... wet.

Dash went still, glancing at her and then down at his forearm. Yes, there was blood there. "Well... Damn."

"Looks like you lose," I'seth said, following his gaze down to his forearm, assessing the wound. "If you want to get off me, I can bandage that up for you. Or ... " Or if he didn't want to get off, well. Maybe she could work with that.

teleios | i will remember you event

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