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[withintenfeet]

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Re: The day after Edwin kills Richter

[withintenfeet]

[ It's as much a ragged exhale as a word. ]

Yes.

Now?

Re: The day after Edwin kills Richter

[deuceoftears]

Pick us a nice spot.

Re: The day after Edwin kills Richter

[withintenfeet]

Do you mean actually nice, or satisfying to tear apart during a fight?

Re: The day after Edwin kills Richter

[deuceoftears]

That one, yes.

Re: The day after Edwin kills Richter

[withintenfeet]

Then we're spoiled for choice and I'll definitely come up with something.

[ He's already moving, armour be damned. ]

Re: The day after Edwin kills Richter

[deuceoftears]

Jedao puts on some of Hakkai's mostly-already-ruined maintenance clothes, grabs his sword, and heads upstairs.

[withintenfeet]

Zerxus is still keying in the details, and it's quite a sight; his actual clothes are loose and casual, but he's got a sword strapped to his side and a shield to his back.

He doesn't turn around, but his hand pauses as he says, "You'd tell me if you had a problem with fire, right?"

(He didn't in the dre nightmare, but that doesn't mean much.)

[deuceoftears]

"I feel like I have a normal amount problem with fire, combat wise, in that it hurts like fuck. But not specific trauma, no. Anything I should steer clear of for you?"

His sword is, of course, just a handle at the moment; he feels absurdly underdressed.

[withintenfeet]

"Not that I can think of."

He does look back, this time, and his expression is on the grim side of playful. It's probably the closest he's come to light-hearted since the week ended.

"And most importantly, is there anything you really want to wreck?" The incongruity won't matter; if anything, disrupting a certain devil's ridiculous taste in home design will be satisfying by itself.

[deuceoftears]

Jedao shakes his head.

"It's not really about stuff for me. I just want to - move my body that way. You know?"

[withintenfeet]

Emphatically, if quietly, "I do."

He'd be happy doing this in the gym too, really, but with the opportunity at hand... Well, when he leads Jedao down the stairs, it's into a replica of a room that featured in his nightmares.

It's beautiful, is the thing. The arched walls are pristine, gold-veined marble, lined with masterworks of art. Stained glass windows reveal the burning planes outside, but the heat isn't oppressive here. The tables are ebony embellished with rubies, set with cutlery so delicate it barely looks real and dishes from every age and corner of Exandria.

The entire ballroom is bathed in warm golden light, but it gleams brightest in the centre. The dance floor is a precise nonagon of polished wood, lined with gently simmering flame.

Zerxus is surveying it all with a mixture of disdain and excitement. "The fire can be stepped over, I don't think it was that hot."

[deuceoftears]

"Nines, huhn," Jedao observes, holding his sword in an easy low stance to ignite it, sending harsh white and red light skittering off the calendrical blade.

"We're okay to kick over plates?" Jedao checks, because destroying the place is one thing, but he knows some people have a thing about wasting food.

[withintenfeet]

"Ninth layer of hell." Zerxus draws his own with a flare of harmless flame; it throws light, but not heat.

"If we shatter every inch of porcelain here I'll be happy."

[deuceoftears]

"You might have to do most of the heavy lifting," Jedao admits. "Calendrical swords only work on flesh."

He starts moving on work, a viciously fast low swing, without a hint of the shift in his voice.

[withintenfeet]

It's effective; Zerxus doesn't quite block in time, and it earns him a shallow, stinging slice across his arm.

This doesn't seem to bother him; in fact he visibly relaxes, even smiling as he leaps backwards and pulls his shield from his back.

"You could always throw them at me."

[deuceoftears]

It's a good thing he does, because Jedao is making the best of the momentum, surging forward with another riposte, fighting mean and dazzlingly quick.

"We'll see," Jedao murmurs, grinning.

[withintenfeet]

It definitely puts him on the back foot at first, but it's exhilarating rather than frustrating; every time Jedao slips through his guard he smiles again, and the more they move together the harder it gets. Even without armour he's nowhere near as fast, but he wields both sword and shield like extensions of himself.

He's still been playing defence, right up until he steps right into a strike so he can get close enough to batter Jedao with his shield.

[deuceoftears]

Shields aren't part of calendrical dueling, so it definitely catches him - not precisely off-guard, but without a reflexive countermove, especially since he can't even strike the shield with sword. Build for killing in the presence of life-sustaining ship hulls or delicate calendrical devices, the sword only damages living tissue.

So he takes the blow on his forearm, a deep jarring that will bruise wonderfully, buying himself the time to skitter to back, jumping onto a chair and then the table, the better to bring down a high strike above and around the shield.

[withintenfeet]

The move clearly delights him, because he bounds forward with a fierce grin that doesn't falter when Jedao slices right through his guard and deep into his shoulder.

Trying to raise his sword arm would probably hurt him more than Jedao, so he relies on his shield again; as he drops to one knee he jerks the shield upwards. Either it will collide with Jedao's arm, or he'll have to yank it away himself.

Well, that's the hope, but he won't be too mad if it goes wrong.

[deuceoftears]

He'd hoped to kick under the shield, which Zerxus circumvents by dropping down. Jedao kicks out anyway, hard, pushing to pivot the shield or twist Zerxus's shoulder, whatever it takes to get the shield halfway horizontal.

Then he jumps on it with his full weight.

[withintenfeet]

Zerxus is strong and stubborn enough to keep a grip on the shield, but that may not have been the right call; his knees buckle and he topples backwards, entirely unable to catch himself.

The horns make a decent buffer, at least; his head is ringing, but his gaze doesn't lose focus.

"If you break my shield - " His arm whips up again, doing his shoulder no favours; he means to slam his sword down on any part of Jedao he can reach.

[deuceoftears]

Jedao has to scramble not to go ass over teakettle himself, victim of his own success as Zerxus destabilizes underneath him. Zerxus gets in a slash deep into his calf as he stumble-hops back to the ground, twisting to get himself turned around to face Zerxus again.

"Oh, does it break?" he asks, only slightly ruining the cavalier tone with breathy panting - with excitement, more than exertion, even as the pain in his leg oozes, wet and warm.

[withintenfeet]

"Hmm. Looking back, I didn't actually ask."

Springing to his feet looks very badass, but his head is in fact still ringing and he stumbles immediately.

[deuceoftears]

"So it needs a field test, is what you're telling me."

Jedao springs forward on his good leg, feints low - where it will be easier, tempting to block - and then slashes high, despite Zerxus's height advantage.

[withintenfeet]

Zerxus might not have fallen for that, if he wasn't still a bit dizzy. As it is, Jedao's blade catches him right across the chest. Leaping from the blade backs him right against another table, and he leans against it as he tries to catch his breath.

Equally pained and amused, "That - was not - the shield."