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It was a very different person that showed up on the dunes, than the Robert that Ofie had once met. Where once he might have come at her with laughter, jokes, maybe a jab or two, now a stone statue stood in his place. Robert summoned Jezebel wordlessly in his hands, and waited.

I can't believe I'm about to say this. The voice in his head whined. But I sort of miss the old you. You're not even going to make fun of her eye? Or rip off your shirt and start flexing at her?

His unkempt hair fluttered ominously over his eyes, hiding them from view.

Oh, don't be so dramatic. Jezebel sighed. Just go kick her a** already.

The weapon was clenched in both fists, and his body took off, whirling Jezebel like helicopter blades in front of him. He could hear her dissonance in his head, as her good and evil sides flickered back and forth each time the weapon turned. It effectively shut her up, with no more than a soft, lingering groan of agony. Sweet, familiar music to him.

HP: 50
Damage: 14

God help him, it felt good to fight this hard. Ofelia wasn't holding back, and she wasn't upset at him for doing the same. They were two animals, slashing and hacking away, testing their strengths and working their weaknesses to the best and worst of their abilities.

It felt so good to let go.

Jezebel came up in a slice, and the handle slammed back down almost immediately after the cut, to bash down on the smaller woman from above. Still, he had nothing to say save for the grunts and groans of battle. His red eyes looked intent on her, but at the same time, he wasn't really there.

HP: 38
Damage: 6

He wasn't used to a woman trying to punch him, besides Petra. When Ofie's fists hit his shield, Jezebel screeched at the damage, demanding revenge. Robert twisted the weapon around so that he could buck her off with it, but she had speed on her side, and the weapon bucked up on nothing but air.

It was the first time in the entire battle that Robert smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Maybe I should put ol' Jazzy away and we can have a fair game of fisticuffs instead, eh Ofie?" He put up his dukes, and winced at the siren screech that pierced his brain in offense of the offer.

HP: 29
Damage: lolarious

Ofie had it right the first time.

The moment she desummoned her weapon, Robert's fists uncurled and his weapon swung freely, twisting in the air until the tip of the batleth was pressed gently under her chin, just barely touching her. It was a cheap trick, and he knew he could have taken a free hit, if he wanted to.

But that wasn't him. He had to remind himself of that, even as the sharp edge threatened to actually damage the shield. He was a good boy, he reminded himself. This wasn't him.

His smile faded. "Bring your weapon back." He hissed out. "I don't hit little girls."

He felt the dig into his side, and winced, both from the pain of the attack, and the bruise of his ego. It wasn't every day a woman called him a little girl.

"I deserved that." He admitted, rubbing his side with one hand. But that was all he would admit. Jezebel was still in his other hand, and she came down hard, right across the woman's body. A typical slash, but basic enough to work. And more importantly, it would put some distance between them.

HP: 24
Damage: 6

Robert felt the struggle in her attacks, and he exploited it, using Jezebel as a spear rather than the closer combat strikes she was best at. They were working, keeping Ofie at bay while plunging deep into her shield, over and over. It wasn't really his style, but it worked. That was all that mattered.

One particular plunge had him stepping forward, pushing down harder, until he felt the real crack of shield protection giving way under his force. It felt oddly familiar, in ways his subconscious refused to remember.

HP: 21
Damage: 11

It was infectious, for all the wrong reasons. Her laughter was clawing its way deep inside of him, forcing the sick smile to curl his lips up when there was nothing to smile about. But she was enjoying the fight, and God help him, so was he. Sparring was liberating, in every sense of the word. It might have been a chance to hone their skills, but deep down, they all knew it was just the easiest, most satisfying way to blow off steam.

And he had accumulated a lot of steam, lately.

Robert's weapon clanged against her fists, blocking the punches as they came, and he ducked down, driving the long edge of the batleth into her body and pushing her back with it. He screamed, and the sound melted into laughter. It only barely sounded like he'd cracked, but it sort of matched Ofie's reaction, and that just made it feel natural.

HP: 21
Damage: 8