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Rep was yet to turn down an offer of a spar since he'd come to the island. So when Ro seemed to be offering himself up to be a willing punch bag, there was not a snowflake's chance in hell of turning him down.

personal thing. When either of your shields go down stop. Remember Ofie?>

He remembered all right, but that was partially fuel to try and repeat the same accident. Just accidentally disposing of the guy, horrible regrettable sparring incident, sun trainee distraught by terrible one in a million slip up.



<>



He trotted onto the training field with the usual air of smarmy self confidence, shoulders thrown back, head held high. As soon as he saw Ro, Tracey was summoned into his hands, seeming to absorb the foggy daylight like a hole in the world. As soon as he was in range he grinned toothily.

"Sup runt." he grunted.

"Hope you ******** warmed up before I got here."

"Awrite then."Rep didn't need to be told twice, the moment Ro mentioned skipping the formalities, the intent look he'd been giving the other man cooled off into a focused glare, the axe dropping to his side, letting it swing wide behind him, blade cutting through the air easily with an almost aerofoil lift as he broke into a charge towards Ro. Fighting was the best thing, even without a warm up he was aware of every muscle, every movement calculated and measured. What his brain lacked in social niceties and cleverness it made up in tightly honed co-ordination.

Tracey had begun to feel less like a weapon and more like an extension of himself. Running no longer felt proper without the additional heft and weight of the steel to lend him momentum gravity didn't owe him.

He swung wide but true, feeling the feathered edge of the blade connect with shield in a satisfying spike of charge. His smirk tugged a little broader as he shoved back to pull it free and just let himself just flow effortlessly with the line of motion.

Fighting was his favourite thing.


HP: 50/50
DMG: 10
CHARGE: 1/3

The swings threw him off balance, colliding heavily with his shield and reeling him back - surprising him with the viciousness of the blows. Outwardly though he counted on not giving away his shock, endeavouring to look indifferent as he dropped back into his battle stance.

It was almost like dancing, a brutal and murderous dance where the stakes were forever impossibly high, sensual and tuned into every movement. But to him dancing was shameful, a pointless effeminate eccentricity. A stripper b***h dancing was merely aping a shallow echo of the raw power of a fight. There had to be stakes, punishment in blood for the body that lagged behind.

Somewhere in his head, Tracey found himself swept up in the thoughts, his own memories of claws in flesh mingling with those of the sun hunter until he couldn't tell the primal thrum of power apart, almost forgetting in the moment he didn't have claws of his own, that his weapon was the blades edge. Power lay in the sharp glint of feathers.

Another swing, the gap in defences clear as day, the strain of muscles as he battled the natural inertia of the weapon like the touch of a friend.


HP: 40/50
DMG: 8
CHARGE: 2/3

The hit from Ro this time was a fairly light one, a clash of blade on blade as Tracey deflected the majority of the damage. Still his shield took a hit, keeping a distant sort of attention on the state of it along with everything else. He couldn't multitask well with most things but this, at least he could handle.

His own retaliatory blow was a glancing one of his own, but with one intention, to feed Tracey the last edge of fear he needed - both of them sharing the ravenous need for the charge like a junkie clamouring for a fix.

The sigh of relief in his head as they siphoned off the last they needed was rendered audible as he mirrored it, giving Ro a predatory smile with nothing friendly about it, the charge coursing in his veins like a hit of purest drug money could buy.

"Better ******** brace yourself." he purred huskily. The charge itself was dangerous, often moreso to Rep himself than the other person, but that didn't matter, all that mattered was how this felt.

All that mattered was the fight.


HP: 37/50
DMG: 3
CHARGE: 3/3

The power was like a drug, it was the only thing he could compare it to. A drug he could take till all the world was dead. Superhuman energy, like his muscles were steel tensed to snap into action, the weapon had bled into him, he was more than human, Tracey was more than a weapon. Watching Ro simply wait for the inevitable drove him even further into that dark icy black place in his mind where thoughts took a back seat to instinct.

He couldn't hear the fallen angel any longer, but could feel him. It was like they'd overlapped like silhouettes, too tangled up to tell.

The wild crackling of Tracey's runes, the sound of his boots on the ground and the clink of his chain were the only sounds as he moved, running one step, two, three and launching himself into the air, the axe held over his shoulder, in line with his back. There was a moment where he went higher than gravity should have permitted, haemorrhaging red runic energy in his wake before he slowed and fell in a calculated arc.

As he angled himself due collision with Ro, he gritted his teeth and with every bit of strength he possessed finally slid his grip to the end of the axe and swung it down over his shoulders like a massive meat cleaver aimed direct at the other hunter's shield.

The result was an audible slam as he connected, the force of the blow too much even for him to handle, the jarring shock along the handle lancing pain along his arms, straining his own shield. But it had done its work, he felt the other's shield crack and give under him. Somewhere he hit the ground, still gripping the axe for dear life. All it'd take would be one more swing..

Suddenly apart again, divergent thoughts. The voice was enough for him to dive and roll, suddenly aware he could do fatal damage without the shield to block his assault. Shambling to his feet he staggered and almost fell, sinking the axe into the ground as he leaned on it, panting. It took him some time to gather his wits before he looked over to Ro, blue eyes still wide and wild with adrenaline.

He didn't even notice he was laughing.


HP: 16/50
DMG: 27
CHARGE: 0/3

Anyone else would have panicked at the sharp red sight of blood, realised they'd gone too far and pushed too hard. Rep shoved himself off Tracey's handle, throwing his arms wide as he dismissed the axe with a flourish.

His body ached from the efforts of the axe swing but it was nothing but a distant thrum as he sauntered drunkenly to Ro and looked down at him, finally quiet.

he snarled throatily, his voice almost a whisper.

There was a thud as he brought his foot up and slammed his boot down on Ro's injured shoulder and held it there, standing like a hunter poised over a rare kill. "Not half as much as you deserve."

He leaned down. "Consider this a friendly warning I guess. Since we are friends and s**t now."

"Don't ******** mess with me. Next time I'll ******** kill you."

He pulled out his phone and typed something before turning his back and sauntering off.

"You'd better hope you have friends."

That idiot. How many times had he been in this situation but he'd been taken to the infirmary? Hell, she'd done it when she should have just let him stay where she'd knocked him out.

a*****e.

What made it worse was it had been a Mist. That really got her blood boiling. Not because Ro should have been able to hold his ground better against Rep, she wasn't at all surprised Ro had lost a spar against Mister I-Have-An-Attitude-Problem-and-a-Huge-Goddamn-Axe, but because this was one of her Mists. She wasn't any kind of lead but they were her Mists. She felt protective over them. They were hers.

Getting down on one knee beside Ro, Candace frowned and quickly looked him over to see what Rep did. Oh god, that shoulder looked nasty. She heard her phone buzz and glanced down to check it, scowling as she wrote out a quick tweet and then pocketed her phone again. Candace removed her scarf, sighing. "I'm going to roll you over and sit you up, okay?" She said gently before doing exactly that, being careful with the boy's shoulder and doing her best to keep him sitting up while wrapping the scarf around the wound as best as she could. Candace wasn't exactly a first aid pro but she'd made enough tourniquets on herself to manage something.

"Can you walk, Ro? I'm going to get you to the infirmary."