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Though not out loud, Peyton could admit that Kitty's weapon was pretty bad a**. At least visually. She suspected in someone else's hands it would have been mightily lethal, but in the baby trainees it was just a pretty, pointy club.

Again she swatted at it, knocking it away even as the blade grazed her arm. She had intended to lay into the girl, like she had with Roland, but even she had her limits when up against someone so seemingly inept.

That didn't mean she wouldn't be the biggest pain in the a** that she could be. Still smiling, the Sun twitched forward, feinting to one side, then came in from the side with an open palm to Kitty's left cheek.

<You're playing with her.>

Pey merely smirked in response.


HP: 36
DMG: 1

Staggered, Peyton had to take a quick step to recover her balance, but once she did, it was all cold smiles again. "Sweetheart, you don't know me."

Lunging quickly to close that small gap between them again, Peyton ducked the long handle of the glaive, coming in low. When she came up, body turning, she threw some of that momentum into her arm, the dainty fist she drove up and into the little twit's sternum to knock her back and away.

HP: 35
DMG: 6

A wild swipe was enough to force Peyton back a step, and even then, the blade bit in anyways. Cutting a slice across the bridge of her nose that pulled a kiss from the dainty Sun and set her teeth on edge.

The smile was fading, and in it's place was the look of determination the woman usually wore on the field. Focused and just a little feral. They were done playing around, it was time to get down to business. Recovering quickly, Pey moved forward again, snapping in with impressive speed to lay a left hook into the trainee's jaw.


HP: 33
DMG: 6

No, Peyton wasn't showing off, she was just getting serious. Kiki had a bad attitude, or so Peyton had seen. From the moment she'd fallen out of her pod she'd been rude, foulmouthed, and an over all pain in the a**.

In an ideal world this would be a lesson, something to learn by, but Peyton knew better than most that the reality they inhabited was in no way ideal. Kitty wouldn't learn a god damned thing from these, except, maybe, that Peyton could pack one hell of a punch, and it was better not to be on Sun's bad aside.

Dodging the jab, Peyton didn't even bother to avoid the slash that came down for her, instead she moved with it, let it slide through her shield like a hot knife through butter. It was a minor hit, didn't even hurt much, but it let her get close again.

The last punch had been a taste, just a little sample of what she was capable of. This time she didn't hold back. She dug a toe in, body twisting as she cocked an arm back, and when she drover her fist up her shoulder rotated with it. Not aiming at that delicate jaw, but at a point 3 inches inside the girl's skull.

She wanted to wipe away those arrogant, bitchy little looks. She wanted to see the brat fly.

HP: 30
DMG: 11

She could feel that last punch like an ache through her hand, and it just made her clench the fist tighter as Kiki staggered up and desummoned her weapon, pale eyes narrowed, not quite trusting.

And that parting shot might have burnt if she'd been the one to pick this fight, but it had been the little princess that had driven her weapon through the dummy's head. The challenge had been made, Peyton had merely answered it. "Didn't have to say yes," she shot back, voice amused as she started picking at the tape that bound fingers and wrist.

"S'what you get for thinking you're hot s**t." Petty. All of it. But Peyton didn't care, not now, not for this arrogant little bimbo. Let her play the princess all she wanted, Peyton would be the queen.