Welcome to Gaia! ::

Another day, another set of wooden dummies to destroy. Evan only dimly registered every dull thwack as his sword took jagged chunks out of their target. Even Gir's nonstop yapping seemed a little easier to ignore today. That was pretty nice. It let Evan focus on other things, like how bored he was. Maybe he should try to get Haunted House duty more, or see if anyone needed help on a mission or something.

Thwack.

The single syllable uttered by a familiar voice was enough to make Evan hesitate before pulling his sword out of the abused dummy. He knew damn well who it was, and while he had long since stopped being actively mad at Peyton, he didn't feel too inclined to go out of his way to be friendly to her, either. They had to work together, and he could and would accept that, but no one said he had to like it. "Hey," he returned over his shoulder, freeing his weapon from the wood.

He turned his attention back to the dummy, letting the sword thwack back into it before adding, "You need something?"

Evan wished he could feel guilty about the tremor in Peyton's voice. He could acknowledge now, free of anger and illness, that what he had done to her probably wasn't right, that other people might see it as horrible and cruel and they would be absolutely correct. Evan wasn't too concerned about it, though; what he had done had been effective in getting his point across, and sometimes, that was worth crossing lines for.

He did feel a little regretful at her apparent lack of fire, though. Evan remembered the way she stood back to back to back with himself and Gnat during the fight against the giant bugs and ghostly waiters on the cruise ships, remembered admiring her spark when other people might have run and hid. It could be an asset in the field even if it was an annoyance off of it.

Regardless of his personal feelings towards her, Evan wasn't going to anything to discourage her from training. It would benefit all of them in the long run, and he was getting tired of hitting these wooden dummies anyway. Besides, Evan knew from experience that sometimes the best way to mend fences was by breaking bones. "Okay," he said, finally turning away from the dummies to face Peyton. "Come on, then."

[[forgot to roll. /shame]]

Go big or go home? Looked lile it! Evan threw himself at her, broad sword swinging in a fast, wide arch. For some reason it caught her by surprise. She couldn't say why, but it had. The blade caught her in the shoulder, sinking into her bicep past the bone. It was horrifying to watch, and brought about flash backs that were enough to raise a startled genuine scream from the dainty Sun before the force of the blow knocked her clear off her feet.

She was resilant though, and she hopped back to her feet in a heartbeat, falling into a defensive stance as she eyed him wearily. "Nice hit." She sounded impressed, but there was some thread in her voice of some strong emotion.

That was all she said though before charging forward, throwing a wicked punch at his hip, tiny fist rotation as she connected with his shield to optomize the damage.

It had been weeks of avoidence. Weeks of falling quiet when he was around and slinking away with her tail between her legs. Weeks of feeling awful when ever she caught sight of him, or even Tuck. As she hit him she realized, with a start, that she was mad at him. Not for his imediate reaction, or for hanging her out to dry, literally, but for how she felt around him every time she saw him.

Unfair, maybe, but true.


HP: 33/40
DMG: 5
CHG: 1/3 | 0/2

Evan was strong. This was something that had always been obvious to the tiny girl, considering he was an ex-marine, and considering just how big he was. However, until this moment, she had never fully appreciated what it might be like to have all that strength directed towards you in earnest. Yes, they had shields, but For as much damage as they absorbed, Peyton still felt her heels digging into the dirt as the force of his next blow pushed her back. ******** Christ, that stung like a mother ******** grunted as she caught her balance and pushed back, swinging at him, only to have the spikes of her knuckles catch on his sword, slowing it, deflecting it, until only the curved edge of her own small blade sliced over his arm. Damnit!

<Calm down! Focus, stop swinging wildly he is going to dominate you. Do you want that?> The angry bite in Warrick's voice wasn't something she'd heard before, and it, along with the words themselves, made the girl flinch. He had a point though. She was angry, and she wasn't fighting smart because of it. She had to get her act together.




HP: 25
DMG: 2
CHG: 2/3 | 0/2

She wasn't usually so outclassed, not by another trainee. Tuck had been bigger, or at least taller, but Evan was pushing her back with every heavy hit. She was having to put everything in just to keep him from beating her down completely. It was a little frightening, and a lot frustration.

Finally she saw an opening as he pushed her back yet again, and she took that chance. Darting in under his arm and throwing her fist up to strike at his stomach from below. She wanted to drive the air out of his lungs. To push him back, if only to get a few seconds time to breath.

Warrick was edgy, and that last hit had siphoned just enough Fear that if she wanted, she could use her charge. He wanted her to, she felt it.

HP: 19
DMG: 8
CHG: 3/3 | 0/2

It felt good when her hit connected. Maybe not as much as it usually did, but it was solid, and the force of it was enough to make her fingers tingle where they wrapped tightly around the metal rings that formed the "hilt" of her weapon.

Whatever minimal satisfaction she'd garnered from her last punch was short lived as Evan swung at her again. She hadn't retreated enough, not by half, but she had placed herself in the perfect range for that jagged, toothy blade, and it didn't matter how quick she might have been, at that distance, all the speed in the world wouldn't have saved her.

There was just enough time for her eyes to widen, then the blade was connecting with her side with more force then anything else he'd thrown at her up to that point. Gir hit her, and he tore at her shield. It cracked under the pressure, and Peyton felt that sharpened edge tear skin before she was knocked off her feet for the second time that day. She bounced once on the dry, worn earth, then rolled to a stop with a pained hiss as she dug her fingers into the dirty and tried to push herself back up.

She was at her limit. One more good hit and she was gone. It would have been insane to continue. That didn't stop her from getting up on unsteady legs, but it was enough to keep her from trying to charge after him again. She hated to lose, but she wasn't stupid. "You win." Tone suggested she wasn't entirely pleased by that, but there was a part of her that felt that she deserved the beating she'd just taken.


HP: 2
DMG: -
CHG: 3/3 | 0/2