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Lunear was on a roll. If one could call it a roll. He was taking his 'practice' seriously, wanting to better himself with his whip, and also, to rather try his hand at this whole 'friends' concept. It was awkward and new and he found himself rather.. enjoying the company of others? It was strange, given that the blood levels between them varied so but also... he wondered why it was suddenly okay for him to feel it was okay to linger around them. He was blue, and here he was, for whatever reason, feeling fondly over yellows, teals, reds- it was most unbecoming of his station, his reputation.

Yet at the same time he did not care.

Well, he did but then he didn't? It was complicated.
A sigh, Lunear made his way towards the red he knew only in mild passing, tapping her on the shoulder with a light cough, his face and hair behind his usual public mask and dye.

"Odette was it? I was wondering if you might have a moment? I am seeking a few fellows to train with as it were and given ah our.. previous encounter and ah, challenge you seem.. adept."

Lunear wasn't sure how one talked to lowbloods without calling them peasant after a long period of time.

She bowed and it made him warm even more towards her. Respectable. Polite. Mannered. She was all the things he liked in 'low' bloods. Yet she was also a good fighter and did not seem ingenue in her words? A refreshing turn from those who loathed the caste system and were so.. verbal of it.

"It was a great show of your skill none the less. Come, there is some space nearby." A short walk later, and they had a sufficient area in which to clash without disturbance. "My only rules are those of a gentle troll.... barring not to hit a fair troll lady, given the nature of a spar and what not." He bowed, a smirk on his face.

"Ladies first of course."

He would let her go first because well, his honor demanded it, plus he wanted to see what all the fuss was with her sudden power rush back at the fight. He'd been wowed once, and wanted to be wowed again.

The first hit wasn't so much a disappointment as it was a nice wake up call to that she was going to kick his a**. Liberally. A strong strike to his chin, he was pushed back, his wrist flicking his whip skywards in hopes to catch her or her weapon for a counter attack. When he felt it hit nothing he realize very pointedly a single thing:

'I'm going to land on my a** and I will be undignified'.

His only solace when he landed was that he didn't curse. "Perhaps not as ready as I thought I was."

HP: 17
DMG: 0

his gaze narrowed and he bit bat a rather scathing remark about ladies who laughed in public and how she shouldn't be so low class to laugh at something so undignified and low brow- unless she was just as low as a lowblood could get.

But that would have been rude and mean and he kind of didn't want to be mean. Just a bit. Kind of. By a lot.

"I will survive." Was his answer, motioning that he'd need not her glaive for support. Once up, she attacked again, and while he took the blow well, it still knocked the wind from him as it were. "You're better at this than your frame might suggest." His own whip strike went uselessly, far outside where he'd intended it- "Blasted chord-"

HP: 14
DMG:

Lunear could appreciate her frame later, as he was trying to appreciate the fact she'd not hit his face. His back however took the hit and sent him forward into a roll, a small recovery, but not nearly as smooth as it could, should have been.

"I am fine." He spat, though it was clear he was not and he was in fact, terrible when it came to armed combat. "Just.. out of my element." He went for one of her legs, hoping to return the earlier favor of his fall.

HP: 9
DMG: 4

Better or worse? Lunear could never quite figure out which way the weapon would go and who or what it would do when it came to actual damages. But that aside, he had to press on. The fight wasn't over until he was out of juice.

Or the fat troll sang.

Whichever happened first.

That's when he saw something. At first he didnt believe it. Then he didn't want to, but no. He was sure it had been correct. Odette had done something that normal trolls were not capible of. She'd done something beyond the norm.
And that had him tense, eyes narrowing in mild disgust and revulsion. His lips pulled into a thin grim line, he struck out at her legs, a twist in his gut mixing with his pump biscuit.

She couldn't be. He trusted her. He had trusted her to see his face, to have allied himself with them. And if that was real, if that wasn't just some trick. He wanted it to have been a trick of his eyes. He dearly wanted it to be so.

HP: 7
DMG: 5

The second wind only cemented the first. Lunear had seen it, and now? Now he had to face it. Mutants were variants that had the potential to destroy everything. They were anomalies, they lead to erratic variants and to ever worse mutants. Ones that were so defunct they were blights upon every troll.


"You-" He bit his own tongue, rage at having trusted her, only to feel betrayed. This was why low bloods were a rick, good many might be, but society made them hide what they shouldn't have. Made them be insular and think they were better to protect their own than they general populace.

A snap of his whip and he hissed at her, teeth bared. "You're one of them?"

HP: 7
DMG: -

It was a mix and mash of emotions and feelings that twirled in Lunear as he watched the expressions on Odette's face. He felt betrayed though logic told him she didn't owe him to tell. He felt hurt and angry and lost and confused and conflicted. He liked Odette. He thought he could trust her and now? Now he questioned.

"You- you-" He let out a hiss as he sucked in a breath. "You what?" He asked, pain lancing him, flashing in his vision as he didn't back down. "You're- is that why you-" He cried in frustration unable to crush the onslaught of feelings and conflict running in him.

He lashed at her again, conflicted feelings evident in his movements.

HP: 3
DMG