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 Posted: Mon Jun 13, 2016 4:25 pm
The scythe presented a problem, mostly because of its size - though Wolfeite knew the blade alone was as sharp as a razor, capable of cutting through skin like water. He couldn't rely on his usual instincts, which would be simply to run through with brute force - chances were the scythe would get to him before he even made a foot away.
Instead, he bowed low and tail switching behind him like a snake in the grass and weighed his options. Labyrinthite would expect him not to be reckless in a case like this - recklessness led to mistakes, after all, and neither Wolfeite nor Labyrinthite dealt well with mistakes.
He lunged forward, keeping himself bent low, and went straight, then skirted to the side sharply, intending on feinting and attacking the general's lower torso.
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Posted: Tue Jun 14, 2016 8:17 am
It was different, preparing to spar with one of his captains with his blade in hand. Still, he was adaptable and he trusted one of his to be adaptable too and so far, Wolfeite had done well to avoid the sting of his blade. There weren't many that welded a scythe like he did, the only active users being himself and the Queen; his didn't have the magical properties hers did, but it was formidable none-the-less.
He stood, fingers tapping against the bone staff, with sharp eyes tracking Wolfeite's movements waiting for the lunge that would inevitably come.
Labyrinthite could not deny that he was curious about how the wolf captain would handle this. His strengths lay in hand to hand combat, getting close to an enemy in order to tear into them; the scythe provided Labyrinthite with an extended range and he fought like his weapon was an extension of him, but after five years it had to be.
The general kept his body still, whiskey eyes shifting with the half-youma's movements and his ears, though not as capable as Wolfeite's, listened for a false step, a poor move. Instead, Wolfeite was darting forward, body held low which allowed him to dodge the first swing.
Good, the general thought even as he shifted his grip and brought the skull side of the scythe back towards Wolfeite when he feinted and attacked Labyrinthite's torso. It was one smooth motion, the scythe head swing back and a step away that allowed him to miss most, but not all of the claws that tore into the layers of his shirt.
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Posted: Tue Jun 14, 2016 10:22 am
He felt the rush of displaced air as the scythe swept towards him; felt the blade screeching through as though slicing the very breath out before it reached him. He managed to claw a part of Labyrinthite's uniform, but the bone end of the scythe caught Wolfeite's shoulder and sent him staggering to the side with a snarl, pain reverberating sharply up and down his arm.
He straightened, did not wait for time to recover, and lunged again. The rush of adrenaline, of fire, of everything that made up fighting was heady, intoxicating. This was why he'd joined the Negaverse. This was why he allowed himself to be a part of Labyrinthite's pack.
There was nothing quite like the high of fighting.
He shifted, trying once more, this time Wolfeite aiming for Labyrinthite's leg in an attempt to knock him down, because the scythe was his main source of defense right now. It would be beneficial to negate that, however possible, to make it easier to attack him.
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Posted: Tue Jun 14, 2016 11:32 am
Labyrinthite was careful not to use the bladed part if he didn't have to. The base of the skull cracked against Wolfeite and in one fluid spin, Labyrinthite righted his grip on it. With the blade hefted in the air, he used the staff part to catch the captain in the chest when he attempted to grab a leg. While more of his attention was given to welding his weapon, it did not detract from his ability to fight outside of slightly lowering his speed.
"Come on, you're treating this too much like it's a normal fight," the general snapped as he grasped the staff with both hands and twisted the blade, slicing through the air diagonally upward at his captain as he slid forward. His grasp shifted, moving closer to the blade so he could rotate it in his hands and come back down in a similar manner, advancing on Wolfeite so that counter attacks would be more difficult.
'You're just dodging, disarm me," he snarled. It would be moot point, to disarm when he could simply resummon, but at least then Wolfeite might be able to invade his space and give a proper counter attack.
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Posted: Tue Jun 14, 2016 11:50 am
The scythe blocked his attempts at sweeping Labyrinthite off of his feet. Wolfeite felt the impact against his chest like being struck by a javelin, completely winding him momentarily. He staggered back with a rough gasp of mingled surprise and anger, his torso throbbing, and pushed himself away from the first of the scythe's swings, only narrowly missing it. The second of them collided with his other shoulder this time and he fell to one knee, snarling.
Disarm. That was the point of this. It wasn't a regular fight, it was a fight involving a lethal weapon. He couldn't approach this as though they were the same thing, he had to work around it, work through it. It was important to keep that scythe away from him.
Wolfeite pushed up and without giving himself time to recover from the blows, leapt forward, not at Labyrinthite's side, but at the arm holding the scythe. Teeth clenched, he swung a foot sharply up, intending to knock his arm out of the way.
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Posted: Tue Jun 14, 2016 1:35 pm
Labyrinthite tsked in disappointment, head shaking as Wolfeite fell to his knee. It had been what he'd expected, but that didn't make it any less disappointing. Still, blood hadn't been shed yet and perhaps that was something to be prouder of.
Wolfeite was back on his feet, kicking at his arms. It was a nice attempt, Labyrinthite would admit, but a poorly executed one. He brought the staff up horizontally before him, hands spreading across the staff so that when Wolfeite's kick connected, it hit squarely but did not dislodge it from Labyrinthite's hand.
"You're not being creative enough," he snapped, irritation growing as swiped the scythe out like a mean backhands now that Wolfeite was in closer proximity. "You have a weapon and you're not using it," he growled, slamming the skull in the ground hard enough to make it splinter beneath the weight and force and using the momentum to swing and kick hard at Wolfeite.
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Posted: Tue Jun 14, 2016 2:50 pm
He could read the disappointment in Labyrinthite's face as clear as day and it made anger surge through Wolfeite. On most occasions he cared little for what anyone thought - but he could not deny that he hated, almost more than anything other than having a loss of control, the sense that someone thought of him of incompetent.
Especially Labyrinthite, to whom he had something - everything - to prove.
The kick from the general caught him in the stomach and sent him reeling. Wolfeite let out a howl of rage and pain, a hand flying up to press against his abdomen as he stumbled. Gold eyes flashed with fury towards the other, and Wolfeite felt a ripple of frustration cascade through him.
Focus.
"You have a weapon and you're not using it."
He did not need to be told what that was - Wolfeite knew that Labyrinthite meant the wolf, meant the youma side of him that was roaring inside of him to be let free. He shifted his feet, closing his eyes briefly, and let the feel of it seep through him, tail flicking sharply behind him.
When he opened them again, there was a burning expression of determination in them - and Wolfeite lunged, pushing himself past the limits of humanity, letting the youma side to him take over, a growl escaping from his throat. He dived straight for Labyrinthite, ducking low to try and avoid the scythe, and with a snarl, opened his mouth to sink his teeth into the general's free arm.
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 12:02 pm
It was important that Wolfeite gave a damn about what Labyrinthite thought because it allowed him to groom and control the wild wolf. He could see the way the captain's features twisted with hatred and anger when his disappointment was evident. It made him sneer, the shark grin spreading across his mouth like second nature. It made the general want to taunt his wolf further until the feral beast was free.
It appeared that he didn't need to when the growl ripped from Wolfeite's throat.
Adrenaline surged through him when Wolfeite's body language shifted into something more wild, unrestrained. Now there was his wolf. Labyrinthite's hands were sliding down the bone staff, adjusting to accommodate the quirk movements of the half-youma. Unfortunately, his hands slipped and his swing was too high, even as he moved to bring the blade back down, tip dangerously close to Wolfeite's back.
Teeth sunk into his arm through thick layers of uniform and a hiss escaped the general when one hand released his weapon and the skull hit the ground with a resounding noise. It was still clutched tightly in his other hand, but with the close proximity, he had to react differently. So, his bare hand grasped at the nape of Wolfeite's neck and tugged.
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 12:16 pm
Labyrinthite remained, so far, the only person to whom Wolfeite reacted to in such a way - the only person that he answered to at all, the only person that he hated to have think him incompetent, because to someone like Labyrinthite, Wolfeite had everything to prove and he could not afford to break now.
The swing of the scythe was dangerously close to him - Wolfeite felt the rush of displaced air, felt the tip of it graze his back, ripping through his uniform to the skin beneath, but it wasn't enough to deter him. Not when adrenaline was pumping through his veins like a toxin, like a drug that heightened his senses and made everything so much fiercer, so much wilder.
His teeth sank into Labyrinthite's arm; Wolfeite let out a growl of satisfaction, the sharpened canines digging through layers of clothing, and he wanted that rush of blood, the sensation of limbs snapping, the heady rush of violence that never ceased to give him pleasure.
The general's hand had closed in the hair by his neck and yanked. Wolfeite gave a snarl of anger, jaw tightening as one hand seized Labyrinthite's wrist beside his mouth. The yanking succeeded in loosening Wolfeite's teeth, but he kept ahold of the general's arm and snapped his leg up instinctively and immediately, aiming for Labyrinthite's leg.
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 2:55 pm
Teeth punctured the skin beneath his sleeves hard enough to draw blood and leave the cloth in tatters in his attempts to dislodge the jaw. Holding onto the scythe proved to be more of a detriment than anything else and so it was let go, a soft thud. Now with both hands free, Labyrinthite could make the fight serious with how close they were.
Putting distance between them was priority.
His arm caught in Wolfeite's grasp twisted, fabric tearing and skin breaking until his hand was pushing against the wolf's face. Wolfeite's heel caught the top of his knee, which buckled in the aftermath but Labyrinthite didn't quite go down. Instead, he grasped at the ankle and yanked as he moved backwards.
If he might go down, he was sure as hell taking Wolfeite down with him.
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 7:03 pm
He tasted blood on his tongue and licked his lips, sliding it along the edges of his teeth to lick the remnants from them. It was a coppery, metallic tang, familiar in a way that spoke of violence and hunting and wolves and a vicious desire to attack.
The humanity was slipping again. Wolfeite was only dimly aware of Labyrinthite's scythe dropping, felt the press of his hand and then fingers wrapping around his ankle. With a hard yank and a howl, Wolfeite felt the ground slip beneath him. His back cracked against the ground, and he kicked out viciously, trying to snap a limb or maybe at least incapacitate Labyrinthite enough to make him fall.
A snarling sound ripped from Wolfeite's throat as he twisted, trying to free himself, gold eyes gleaming with a mixture of pleasure and satisfaction.
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Posted: Thu Jun 16, 2016 11:25 am
The amount of damage Labyrinthite would withstand was astounding, but something that came with years of training, combat, and, of course, the magical enhancements that came with being seeped in chaos. If Wolfeite thought himself to be a beast, he hadn't yet realized that Labyrinthite considered himself a monster, a thing of nightmares if provoked right.
And that monster was bubbling to the surface.
A snarl ripped from his own throat as Wolfeite hit the ground, with Labyrinthite dragging him across the ground. The captain's wild kicks caught Labyrinthite's hand first, earning a hiss when he dropped the ankle, then caught him hard enough in the chest that he staggered backward, breathing slightly labored.
Whiskey eyes were sharp and dark as he focused on Wolfeite while he banished the scythe then resummoned it so it's weight was familiar and sturdy in his hands. He didn't bother blinking when he brought the blade down.
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Posted: Thu Jun 16, 2016 4:01 pm
If he noticed the pain, it wasn't registering. Somewhere inside of Wolfeite, the ability to correctly gauge the amount of damage being done to him was numbed by the youma half of him taking over, devouring anything and everything in its path.
The sound of Labyrinthite's snarl sent a shiver of pleasure up and down Wolfeite's spine. He felt his foot connect with a satisfying thud against some part of the general - it was hard to see from this position - but he felt the gust of displaced air once more that meant the scythe was swinging towards him.
Instinct told him to move, body reacting a split second later. Wolfeite twisted sideways, growling low in the back of his throat, scrabbling along the ground and just narrowly missing the full brunt of the blade. It caught on the back of his uniform, slicing a line through the fabric and skin and effectively stopping Wolfeite's movements abruptly as it pinned the fabric to the ground.
He let out a snarl, twisted back towards the weapon, and slammed his shoulder against the blade, bucking his legs up in an attempt at kicking it away, his back howling with a pain that he studiously ignored.
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Posted: Thu Jun 16, 2016 9:08 pm
It'd taken a while for him to have done damage with his blade, but Labyrinthite had also been careful to avoid anything that might have been critical. It wasn't like he'd be able to take Wolfeite to the hospital if he'd damaged something too terribly. No, anything afflicted would have to be something he could tend to personally.
Which meant, once the blade sliced through clothing like tissue and blood seeped from torn skin, it was time to end it.
It was perfect really, with Wolfeite already on the ground and lashing out horribly. It reminded Labyrinthite of Castor and his violent lashing out that only served to injure himself further. Knowing when to stop would be a lesson he'd have to teach his wild wolf.
So, a heel slammed into Wolfeite's flailing legs and he brought the skull down hard into his chest, resting his weight into the end of the staff to keep him there. It was a heavy thing of a weapon to begin with, with it's size and the way it cracked earth beneath it when it hit too hard.
"Better but not good enough." There would be more trainings because Labyrinthite didn't think Wolfeite was reaching his full potential. "It's over," he stated firmly, a no arguments expressed in the hard look the general gave his captain. "If you struggle too much you'll make the wound worse."
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Posted: Fri Jun 17, 2016 2:31 pm
Labyrinthite's foot connected sharply with Wolfeite's legs, stopping the movement at the same time that the end of his scythe slammed into his chest. A mixture of pain and breathlessness coursed through him, the wind entirely knocked out of him, and Wolfeite's back arched immediately, fingers digging into the side of the weapon as though to try and pry it off.
His eyes were wild and unfocused, glowing gold, but the snarls were starting to abate, easing into lower, quieter growls, until there was nothing but a low rumbling in the back of his throat. Slowly Wolfeite's movements eased, less violent and less lost to the wolf, and his vision began to clear until he was lying quite still beneath Labyrinthite's scythe. His hands were braced on either side of the skull, but his gaze rested securely and calmly up at the general.
For once, there was no snarling argument, no angry retorts, no furious attempts at continuing the fight. Wolfeite was aware of his back throbbing, the cut starting to sting more now that he wasn't moving as much, now that he wasn't drowning in his youma half.
Wolfeite's gloved hands fell away, and he was breathing heavily.
"I yield."
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