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SPECTATOR POST

Lucky knew better than to sign up for a 'beat each other to near-death' competition. So he watched from the sidelines instead, occasionally taking notes on technique so that he'd have some advantages at the next test spar with Mimsy. If anyone asked, he was there to help drag the loser away.

One of the matches seemed particularly interesting to make it to, and here he was, leaning on a forgotten folding table that had been scattered in the half-circle of debris around the ring. He didn't go out of his way to make his presence known, and it was probably a good thing too, because they both fighters seemed pretty intense about the match.

He'd never expected to see Robert so bloodthirsty. Very interesting.

"Skopać jej tyłek, Robert!" he finally cheered.

Spectator Post

Before couldn't believe how shitty his timing was. Here he was, wanting to cheer Ofie on and of course he would arrive at the tail end of the fight. Not only that, but his girl was losing! And someone else was cheering her opponenet on!? OAO

The Mist took a deep breath, cupping his hands around his mouth, he bellowed:

"GOOOOOOOOOOO DINAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!"

She was still up. Ofelia had taken the hit and was still standing even though her legs felt like they were going to go down beneath her. Rue's voice had turned from screaming to a muted buzz as she raised her hand back and closed the distance, a strong backhand indicating she was much more deadly when backed.

There was no way she was going to win but there was also no way she'd surrender. The voices calling her name were unheard, there was only the buzzing and the screaming and the sound of her heart in her ears.

hp 1
damage 10

There would have been a silent scream as Ofelia's shield shattered, but it wasn't from her. It never escaped her mouth, never escaped her head. Instead only silence into the air as her shield crumbled beneath the weapon and her body readily accepted it all. There was no sign she registered the attack, no sign that she even moved to try to avoid it. Slice after slice, strike after strike until his momentum would end and his attack would stop. Ofelia took it all in stride and silence, all the while looking him dead in the face. When it finally stopped so did she, her legs swaying for a moment as it looked as though she would finally fall.

Instead she remained standing as her weapon vanished and her shoulders slumped over. She made no sound, no movement. There was only standing in silence her wounds not serious enough to kill her but certainly serious enough to end the fight.

She had lost but had remained standing. A Sun Hunter never stopped standing, never let the enemy see their back or their motionless form on the ground. Her face was set in a twisted smile, the eye open even though all sparks of awareness were long go. Robert may have won but she was still standing.

hp 0 oops

Robert was ******** up. His life was crumbling to his feet and everything he'd worked for was being slowly destroyed. And yet, for some reason, when he looked at Ofie, and that sightless stare - the way she stood there even though she was shieldless, weaponless - the smile plastered on her face -

He felt sorry for whatever had her that wound up.

"Oh.. kay." He whispered, slowly desummoning Jezebel. "Good fight. Seriously. You don't pull your punches, Ofie. Never did." He still couldn't smile, because the fight was over, and he didn't know if she was really standing there or if she was about to collapse to the ground, so he turned and gave Before a worried glance, gesturing for him to take care of the situation. He was cheering her on, after all.

And he had his own fish to fry.

Jogging over to the spectator stands, he stopped a few feet before he got near Lucky, and wiped the dust off his brow with one arm while regarding him carefully.

"Hey," He muttered hesitantly. "You're.. you."

That made sense only in Robert's head.

Lucky let out a low whistle. That damage dampening tech really was experimental, because it didn't seem to have worked. He gave the other spectator a sidelong glance, trying to look concerned, and hoping they'd spare him the trouble of any body-dragging duty by taking it upon themselves.

When he looked back again, Robert was fast approaching. He froze inwardly for a moment -

< Well? What are you waiting for? >

"Hey," Lucky answered in kind, putting on a friendly smile. He hopped over the broken debris of the outer ring, giving Robert a small wave and a laugh as he closed the distance. "I vould hope so."

"I saw most of the fight," he chatted, casually unraveling his scarf from around his neck. He was right in front of Robert now, black cloth in hand, standing on the edge of his toes to reach up. Delicately he brushed the scarf across one side of Robert's face to wipe away some of the sweat, grime, and blood. "Is very impressive, vhat you did. You are okay?"

"Uh-huh." Lucky didn't sound convinced, but he was still smirking, even when Robert caught him by the wrist. Slowly he eased his hand away toying with the fabric of the scarf instead and laughing at Robert's description of the competition. "You get used to it, somehow. I do not remember the last time I smelled anything. Except the ocean. Is very distinct..."

In a quick sweeping motion he'd thrown the scarf around Robert's back. He paused. With a hand gripping either end of it, he pulled inward, temporarily drawing Robert down to his level.

"But I still insist," he murmured. "You can get it as dirty as you please. Is only a scarf, Robert. I am sure I did vorse to your jacket. Do not be so modest."

Lucky let the scarf fall around Robert's shoulders so he could reach up a few fingers to wipe away one of the spots of blood still staining Robert's cheek. He glanced at the dark red on his fingertips with pale green eyes, before finally running his fingers along the scarf to clean it away. "Not a scratch on you. You vill have to teach me a few of your tricks later..."

"You are blushing," he added, quietly observing with a half-smile.