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Lawrence didn't like sparring, not during the day, not in the open. The less people who saw Butch the better. It was a habit he'd carried since he arrived on the island, free to devise new personas whenever he saw fit and unwilling to have his weapon be the thread which linked them. He had not been able to devise new selves of late thanks to various factors, but the aversion remained.

Melvin at the very least was safe, he knew what Butch looked like and was not a threat in any capacity.

"I train at night." he said matter-of-factly, unaware if Melvin had ever woken up when he'd slipped out of bed in the small hours to don his mission cloak and train until he could hardly walk (and that had been more often than not of late). It was all part of control, it was all part of whatever strange construct of routine and habit kept him going.

"So it is not surprising you have not." In his head Butch went crazy, always amped up before a fight.

"At least it is quiet here at the moment." And stepping forward he turned to face Melvin and summoned the large and lethal claws, the long dog chain unhooked and loose. "I prefer it quiet."

Butch was absolutely thrilled to be out and summoned and used the opportunity to ramble enthusiastically about what he felt the fight would somehow entail.

<fureverrr We trained him he's a good dug. Good boy Melv'n. Good boooy.>>

Lawrence tried to ignore it. He felt better this time, less faint and woozy than he had when he fought Harrison, a fact almost entirely down to the fact that he had forced himself under observation to take a few forkfuls of breakfast. Some vindictive part of him hoped that he could work the calories off again under the radar.

He made a few testing swipes of the talons and twisted the chain up in his fist. It felt good to have two hands again, however temporarily. It was symmetry.

"Shoot." he said, and smirked faintly.

HP : 30
DMG: Miss
Charge: No/3

"Just the first one, I promise." he said, with a wave of his hands. He wanted to see how Melvin's attacks felt, point blank, without attempting to dodge or glance it. If he could handle the worst of it, it could only get better from there.

It hurt quite a bit more than he had been expecting and as he hit the dirt, he snapped.

"WHY IS IT ALWAYS MY FACE?"

And getting to his feet again, unable even to brush the dust off his clothes due to the claws, he clarified.

"Please try not to hit my head and face, if you would be so kind."

And then, with a very cold flippant sort of brutality, he went straight for Melvins.


HP: 23
DMG:10
Charge: 1/3

The shot sent Lawrence reeling again, once again back to the dirt, his claws cutting deep gouges in the dirt.

Butch barked furiously at how weak they still both felt, knowing the shield was already low but refusing to take responsibility for it.



He'd had breakfast he thought, why wasn't that enough?

He leapt at Melvin again, surprisingly quick for someone who did so little obvious exercise.

HP : 15
DMG: 3

It felt good to be using his practice against a living person again, and this time it was against someone he didn't need to treat with kid gloves. Rodney flinched at every gesture of violence but Melvin could handle himself.

He didn't care about the low shield, even as Butch snarled at him about it, there were wards and even if there were not he did not much care for consequences.

Digging his long talons into the ground, he threw his weight over in a cartwheel gesture, nimbly using the momentum to launch himself back at Melvin, determined to keep an unrelenting pressure on him, aware that with guns range was everything and that while he was wrapped around the other man he'd find it hard to get a proper balanced shot in.

Butch's runes lit up brilliantly as he dug the talons into Melvin's shield.

HP : 12
DMG: 9
Charge: 3/3

For Lawrence there was always something cold and satisfying about this particular mode, it was action and reaction logic and response. His body was in direct agreement with his mind, they wanted to win and to dominate the other person regardless of if that person was a close friend or a hated enemy. He wasn't angry in the same way others might have been, sloppy and clouded by emotion, he was instead completely calm, finding Melvin's hesitation an opening rather than something to concern himself about or try to soothe.

"Yes." he said, and it was calm. "You should never hit my face."

While Melvin ran up some distance he casually drove the talons into his own fear shield as if impaling himself through the chest and gave himself a shot of Melvin's stolen fear to bolster himself, finding the sensation most curious.

And he started once again walking towards Melvin.

HP : 30
HEAL : Self for 19
Charge: 3/3 - The Chill used

Like this.

Lawrence fixed on the comment. Melvin hadn't seen him like what? Intent? Focused? He couldn't quite understand what he meant. He was after all very often intently focused on things around the other man. Watching Melvin shoot himself he realised his gesture had been mirrored and narrowed his eyes just slightly. Melvin outmatched him in endurance and already he could feel himself tiring.

Still, that was nothing more than physical weakness and he was good at ignoring the physical.

"There is no like this." he said, out of breath as he chased after Melvin, swiping at his legs whenever he got close.

HP : 30
DMG: 5
Charge: 1/3 - The Chill used