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Remaining close to Rep was more than a little nerve wracking. Dwight could tell the other man was nearing the end of his tether, but that didn't mean anything until he was down and out for the count. At the end of the day, Reid was basically an animal, and was at his most unpredictable when cornered.

There was a time that Dwight considered him just another shitty person. But people learned, and they grew, and they became better. Rep just got stronger and more vicious with that strength.

Tracey hit him solidly in the shoulder and in return he slammed Kiki straight into Rep's nose.

Bad dog.

Kiki's voice was smug in his head, and Dwight smiled in agreement.


HP: 17
Dmg to Rep: 9
Charges: 3/3
(Y3 TF, Y2 SS, Y2 Chill)

Dwight was correct in his estimation, in Rep's head even as his shield faltered on the absolute brink of shattering, there was no room for anything except getting his metaphorical teeth into the other hunter. Even Tracey, well aware their shield was teetering on the brink simply wanted the satisfaction of hauling back a win from the very jaws of defeat. Neither of them really knew fear, it was what had always made him perfect for Sun but so terrible for everything else in his life.

But even close by it was torment, he knew Dwight's blood was right there, his jugular, his weak points, all of them, a ******** shadow's width away but protected solidly by a shield he was doubtful of his ability to chew though.

The staff cracking him in the nose was agony on a level that nothing else ever compared to, his nose was a mess, a mishmash of mended bone, his injuries from before the island sparking like fireworks behind his eyes, making the roar of fury twist into a strangled cry of agony as for a few moments he found himself completely blinded by the hit.

But like a rabid thing, a loss of sight didn't stop him either, and he swung, his breath half-sobs of pain in the direction of the other hunter.

HP: 1
DMG: 3
Charge: BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD

"Never." Rep snarled, his vision returning, even despite the bleeding vessles in his eye from the trauma of the blow. He'd never concede, never ******** surrender, especially not to Dwight. Not to ******** anybody.

He leapt forward with the same rabid tenacity as before, all bristling sleek black edges and red haired fury.

HP: 1
DMG: 13
Charge: BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD

Rep went back hard, crashing into the ground and knocking the air out of his lungs as his shield shattered and gave way. He was forced to scrabble for air, chest heaving as he fought to get air down into his lungs past his compressed windpipe. Tracey had desummoned the moment his shield went, leaving him helpless and unarmed. But it didn't mean he wanted to give up, even struggling to breathe, even bruised, rattled and sore.

He'd been stripped of everything that made him a hunter, torn down to the humanity underneath and even that refused to yield to someone like Dwight, to give him the satisfaction of a win. It was Marie's fault, he thought with nothing but cold rage, Marie who'd restrained him from the enormous cleaving drops which would have turned this fight around. And now he was being pinned by a man he loathed with every fibre of his being, weak, helpless and on the very edge of blacking out.

He clenched his hands around the weapon at his throat and glared at Dwight, making no reply but a strangled snarl of loathing.

HP: -4

Rep rankled in disgust at the idea of having to fetch Harrison or Jordan to deal with him, longing to just have one more ******** hit on the p***k. Kiki ******** hurt like this, up against his adam's apple and putting just a bit too much pressure on his throat, every breath an uphill struggle.

When he spoke it was gritty and strangled, every word slow and determined. "Its what makes you weak. You call it r..rgh ..restraint. I call it.." he bared his teeth in a grin that was one hundred percent malice. "Cowardice."

"Because one day I'll get you." Rep snarled, half crazed. "When I don't have this lizard b***h eating my charges. When there's no one around to witness it. No ******** charges and I almost HAD YOU." One day there'd be an opportunity, and Dwight had shown weakness, shown he wasn't even able to finish the job when the job was knocking him out. Hesitation was a weakness.

He coughed and hauled another breath through. "Shiloh. He just wouldn't kneel. You have to make them kneel."

"I won't die if it looks like a mistake. If its just someone turning their ******** back and letting the horsemen get you." he slumped back more, feeling the energy betraying him the more he snarled. "I'll do whatever it ******** takes to see you fall."

There was an inevitable point where curiosity had gotten the better of Mimsy, as it always did. When it came to spars, that curiosity could typically be sated by waiting another fifteen minutes for a verdict on Twitter, but this was a special sort of case. It occurred to her that she was almost certain that she had never actually seen Rep fight, and when she factored in the bit of importance that was Dwight's continued existence, it became almost impossible to concentrate on anything other than the results of their long-awaited one-on-one.

She watched with folded arms, and did not move to fulfill Dwight's request; it was flawed, to her disappointment, and she couldn't manage to make herself believe it was her job anyway. Instead, she listened carefully to their conversation, an exchange as valuable as the physical strikes they'd made - it was something almost predictable by now, but many of the claims never felt any more acceptable. Her thumb drummed erratically against her arm, and she chewed her lip, refusing to appear anything other than calm.