here be random shit [it's an open post for open post things ]

[sarcaskick]

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i get to defile it

[feudelenfer]

[The fight went roughly as expected on Jeanne's end. Carrying him home had turned out to be a great boon as far as knowledge of Mercury goes. Holding him meant feeling the imbalance in his weight, and the way there was no give when his calf rested against her arm.

Prosthetic limbs aren't exactly unheard of where she's from, so it was no big concern, and she accepted it simply as a fact. A fact she would use to cripple him in their fight. Purposefully putting his legs out of commission just enough so that he could still hobble around if he wanted.

Jeanne had him pinned. His chest under the weight of her body as she rests her knee on his sternum and his wrists in her hands with a grip that could shatter bone if she tried holding any harder. And while the victor is incredibly clear, so much so even Mercury has a hard time denying it (though he still tries, for he is stubborn), something makes Jeanne stop. Her whole body freezing up as a familiar scent hits her longs.

That stern gaze of hers changes as her eyes blow out wide. Those yellow-gold pupils shift into an eerie glowing red.]

Are you bleeding?

[sarcaskick]

[ He's so. Fucking. Angry.

She knew. Going into the fight, she knew about his legs. Knew to target them, knew how to target them, how to cripple his ability to hold his own. He'd picked up on as much as he could during the fight - her patterns, her tells, her range and her speed - but even if things had been totally even at the start he wasn't sure he could win.

But she knew about his legs, so the fight was more uphill from the start than he had even thought it would be.

Logically, there's no reason not to concede. There's virtually no chance of swinging this fight into his favor, not with his legs out of fighting condition and with her above him like this. But he had sworn to himself, not terribly long ago, that no one would ever make him feel helpless again. No one would take that from him ever again. No one.

And now here he is.

Angry. Furious. Helpless.

So when she asks her question, even as he notices a change come over her eyes, he all but spits his answer back at her. ]

Wasn't that the point, genius?!

[feudelenfer]

Go.

[She had tried so very hard not to make him bleed. Or, at least, not to break the skin. Jeanne's hands tighten ever so slightly around his wrists before she releases them entirely in favor of covering her mouth. Even as she trembles above him Jeanne forces herself off his chest and tries to put distance between them.

But her body won't let her go far. Already her nails are starting to point and grow into claws. She can feel her fangs ache to sink into soft flesh and be quenched with blood. Swallowing nervously her eyes are quick to zero in on the spot where he bleeds, and when that happens it's as if she might die if they ventured anywhere else.]

Leave, now.

[sarcaskick]

[ It isn't even a terrible wound - a glancing blow near his shoulder, easy enough to shrug off if she hadn't done so much damage without breaking skin. It wouldn't even leave a scar, most likely. In a vacuum, not a problem.

In this situation, apparently a problem.

On pure instinct he's pushing himself back away from her on the ground before rising quickly - shakily, thanks to her - to his feet, wobbling as his prosthetics don't respond to his body as quickly as they normally do. He can walk, but it's going to take some serious conscious effort. And now she wants him to run? ]

... Like you're in any position to tell me what to do.

[ SHE LITERALLY IS THOUGH ]

[feudelenfer]

I said get out of here! Before we both regret it!

[Her retort is practically snarled at him, and her trembling hands lower to reveal her growing fangs. Almost getting to the point where it may be difficult to close her mouth properly.

All she can think about is the smell... how he'd taste... the feel of that fluid against her fangs, and the thunderous beating of his heart.]

[sarcaskick]

[ It's right about then, as she lowers her hands, that the full picture sinks in. The fangs. The claws. The eyes. But more than that is the feeling, that overwhelming sense of danger that comes from his particular set of skills and abilities, and the way it's skyrocketing well beyond his level of comfort. Well beyond his level of things he can handle. It isn't the worst he's ever felt it.

But it's bad enough.

This, right now, with him in this condition, is way beyond his capability. ]

... We're going to finish this another time. Count on it.

[ But this is very clearly not that time. So, with one last once-over, one more glare, he'll turn on heel to start moving as best he can.

Which isn't very great. Thanks, Jeanne. ]

[feudelenfer]

[Very pathetically she will try to distract herself with what blood he's left behind. The small splatting on the grass and rocks beneath him where he was pinned before he started to escape.

Jeanne's eyes grow watery, and tears threaten to spill down her cheeks as she smears her palm with what little blood she can pick up and put to her mouth. After biting her own hand she searches her pockets, and pulls out a medicine bottle. Though... it may or may not be placebo. She takes two, dry swallowing. He'll hear how she chokes and coughs, but he may feel that same threatening aura still lingering. As if it takes every last bit of strength just to keep herself from hunting him down.]

[sarcaskick]

[ He slows, for a moment, glancing back over his shoulder. Too far to make out the details, but she's compromised. She's escalated to something absurd, but there's a faltering period when she tries to restrain it. A time when the potential for danger is there, but her own conscience is impeding it.

A window of opportunity.

An opening.

A weakness.






But not this time.

This time, he keeps running. ]

[feudelenfer]

[Jeanne absolutely will not contact him again after that. He saw the side of her that is a monster, and he's sure to find her disgusting for it. After all, wouldn't most humans? (Most only used because there is at least one human that intentionally provokes it)

If he's to be tracking her like he would any other animal before approaching it he'll find that Jeanne spends most of her time as Chevalier for a young boy she calls "Master Luca". Though today she will be out along. Granted leave because he'll be with his brother, so she's left to be productive on her own. Running errands, mostly.]

[sarcaskick]

[ It wasn't just animals he had learned to track - his father had done well in raising him to track people quietly and discreetly, waiting for the moment to secure a kill away from prying eyes. He wanted his son in on the family business after all, even if to call them a "family" by any definition other than blood was laughable. Suffice it to say, Jeanne isn't attempting to hide her movements, so it it's far from the hardest mark he's tracked.

And now here's his chance for the kill.

It's while she's picking up food at a local market, browsing produce of some sort, that a hand will reach past her to pluck an apple from the display. ]

Even when you get out you're on the job? You know what they say about all work and no play, right?

[ oh no it's this asshole ]

[feudelenfer]

[Jeanne practically jumps out of the way like a cat leaping from any object vaguely snake shaped. There's clear surprise on her face. As if she'd never thought she'd see him again - likening Mercury to a ghost. After all shouldn't he hate her for breaking his (probably very expensive) legs, and being all to close to sucking his body dry?]

You...

[She's actually too stunned to say much else.]

[sarcaskick]

[ He flaps his hand dismissively. ]

Yeah, me. Anyway.

[ It isn't that he isn't still bothered by the defeat. He's been punishing himself with some grueling training every chance he had, once he got his legs up and running (ha!) again. But that didn't make her any less fun to bother, as he had been growing a bit accustomed to as of late. No sense kicking the habit just like that. ]

I know I said that I wanted our night to be special, but I didn't expect you to take it that far. You must really like me. My heart's aflutter.

[feudelenfer]

[—Oh. That certainly sobers her up quick. Jeanne returns to her spot just to grab a couple apples and stuff them in a bag before turning her back on him.]

Don't conflate things to boost your bruised ego.

[He's not getting to her! He's not!]

idk what is a timeline can you eat it

[auriferous]

[ By the time the doubles matches roll around, Pyrrha has a lot on her mind. The fights themselves are a convenient distraction; there's always something to be learned by watching her fellow combatants ply their trade. No one on her team notices if she's a bit subdued. Sitting between Nora and Jaune, back rod-straight, hands folded into her lap — it's a pretense, sure, but if she pretends long enough? Maybe she'll convince herself.

Mercury and Yatsuhashi's match is quite exciting. She can't pretend it isn't. Emerald and Coco disappear into the copse, obscured even to the cameras, and Pyrrha's attention is wholly focused on the combat she can see. Mercury is quick and deft, somehow light and heavy at the same time. He leaps and jerks like his bones are hollow but he comes down on his more experienced opponents with enough force to make the stone ground crack and shudder. His feet are his weapon; his hands supplementary, support.

It's very impressive, she thinks, but that thought is accompanied by a creeping disappointment as she remembers the only other time she had seen him fight. He had challenged her and then put in alarmingly little effort if this is what he is capable of.

The victors are announced. The crowd reshuffles, murmuring. Some disperse, some are waiting for the next match.

She tells her team she's going to go get a drink, spends a few minutes patiently waiting as Nora and Jaune take their time giving her their drink orders, and then disappears into the crowd funneling through the exits. Rather than head to any of the food tents, she turns and goes the opposite way: toward the small cluster of green rooms where combatants are placed before, and after, their matches. ]

i'm allergic to them anyway

[sarcaskick]

[ Honestly, what a letdown.

It's not like his expectations were too high. Even if these students were huntsmen and huntresses in training, they hadn't been exposed to violence like he had, hadn't been made to live and breathe combat and survival on a near-daily basis. Plus, he'd seen some of the sparring matches; most of the work was pretty shoddy, and he figured there wasn't going to be much in the way of real competition at this event. But Team CFVY had a reputation as being some of the best Beacon had to offer, and...

Well, look how far that got them.

It isn't like he really cares about winning for the sake of the tournament, and of course there's some serious satisfaction in beating someone down in front of a live audience, but as someone who wants to keep getting stronger, it's not very productive. He whines about this to Emerald (who rolls her eyes and smacks him upside the head) and Cinder (who coos him with some cryptic remark about the best having yet to come) after the match before he goes to change into a fresh set of clothes (which are, naturally, identical to the clothing he was wearing before), just beginning to think about how he'll kill time as he steps out of the room--

And nearly has a head-on collision with Pyrrha Nikos herself.

She'll be treated to a moment of actual surprise on his face, but sadly it gives way to his usual bored smugness. ]

Hey, champ. Here for an autograph?

[auriferous]

[ It ends up being disquietingly easy for them to run into one another, as luck would have it. She steps around a corner and he's right there. For a moment, Pyrrha wishes she had just gone to the food tents instead. His expression is hardly encouraging; but she meets it with an insolent quirk of her eyebrows. She can't dredge up the energy for warmth, feigned or otherwise — not when her mind keeps dragging her back to a half-dead girl in a glass pod. This is as much as she can do.

And then there's that little nickname — champ. Her rigid manners are the only thing keeping her from rolling her eyes. ]

No, nothing quite so banal. Congratulations, though. It's rare to see a sporting victory so... thorough.

[ Like, damn dude. Will Yatsuhashi ever play the piano again? ]

[sarcaskick]

[ "Sporting" almost earns him a laugh, but he manages to hide it behind the slightest widening of his smirk instead. They were still under orders to keep up appearances, keep their noses clean... but frankly Emerald was much better at playing the part than Mercury was. It's why she did most of the chatting with the Beacon kids while he did his own thing.

But even in faraway mountains the name Pyrrha Nikos rings a bell, and he can't deny some curiosity at the opportunity to get a closer look at the so-called legend herself. ]

What can I say? Em and I don't mess around.

[ "Not that we really had to try." ]

Saw your team in the 4v4. Pretty sure you and the shortstack would have been fine against those guys on your own.

[ Oh good he's coming up with fun little nicknames for everyone-- ]

[auriferous]

[ Em and I don't mess around, he says. Her nostrils flare as she thinks once again about their abbreviated spar a few scant weeks ago. ]

Nora [ said with the subtlest emphasis ] and I are very fortunate that our teammates have our backs.

[ As opposed to, you know, an uncomfortably sultry twenty eight year-old in a Beacon uniform. Just as an unrelated, completely fictional example. His remark is quite backhanded but Pyrrha would be lying if she said she hadn't heard worse. ]

Truthfully, I'm surprised you didn't resign halfway through the fight.

[ Maaaaybe she's being a bit passive aggressive. Look, she's stressed. ]

[sarcaskick]

[ That last barb actually earns a laugh as he shrugs one shoulder, running a hand through his hair. ]

Ohhhh, I see what's up, now. C'mon, did you really think I'd show off my best moves before the tournament?

[ It wasn't a lie, not really - obviously he didn't want to let people see everything he was capable of so soon. It just wasn't entirely about the tournament itself. ]

Maybe you'll get lucky and get a remach in the finals. [ A pause - a dangerous lift of one eyebrow. ] Unless... you wanna have a match off the books, that is.

[ A good idea? Maybe not. Certainly not keeping a low profile as per orders. But coming out of a fight like that, he still felt like he had an itch to scratch. ]

[auriferous]

[ It isn't a good idea. There are rules about unsanctioned combat on, or off, school grounds, although Pyrrha has never hesitated to break them for Jaune's sake. And she knows she wouldn't be at her best. If she sustained an injury before her her and Nora's next match, she'd be disappointing her team.

With all that going through her mind, the only thing Pyrrha says is — ]

You're not tired after your match?

[sarcaskick]

I'd say I'm warmed up, if anything.

[ Trash talking beacon's finest? You bet your ass he is. ]

But I didn't necessarily mean right now. Then again, if you're that eager... I'll clear my afternoon.

[ There's a certain gleam in his eye - as if daring her to take him up on the offer, to give him a real honest-to-god fight today. ]

[auriferous]

[ That dare skirting his words goes unacknowledged. In the face of his swagger, she's cool and composed. She doesn't need to prove anything to him; and, more importantly, she doesn't feel like she needs to prove anything to him. He's the one that forfeited. Not her. As far as she's concerned, he's had plenty of opportunities for a real fight. He doesn't get to control the timing of their rematch and she's not here for CFVY's scraps. ]

My team is expecting me, I'm afraid.

[ On the other hand, she's been terribly bored with— with most of it, honestly. Going at half pace for Jaune. The little matches in the classrooms. Her muscle memory itches for more.

So, this, then: ] Tomorrow? [ After he's had some rest. ]

[sarcaskick]

[ Truth be told, he didn't think she would accept. Her reputation was as Beacon's golden child, after all, and he did get a certain goody-two-shoes vibe from her. It was a fun thought to entertain, a rematch, but there was no way she'd seriously entertain the thought. Her remark about her team aligns with that - a convenient excuse, and he waits for her to follow up by telling him that they could both get in trouble for fighting unsupervised, that they had to act with honor or integrity or some other bull--



tomorrow?

Oh. Oh, okay, so this was happening. So much the better. ]

Think I can make that work, yeah. You know the area - just tell me when and where you want me.

[ phrasing... ]

[auriferous]

[ She pulls a bit of a face at his word choice even as she's pulling her scroll out from her pouch. ]

We can reserve a gymnasium.

[ With the tournament well underway, the staff is likely going to be a bit too busy to finesse the requests coming in. Besides, the professors at Beacon typically fall all over themselves when it comes to Pyrrha. A week ago, she would have hesitated to take advantage of it. A few quick swipes and thumb presses and his own scroll should be beeping with an airdropped calendar invite.

Helpfully: ] The administration won't approve the reserve unless you accept the invitation.

[ if he thought she was a goody two-shoes before, well guess what ]

[sarcaskick]

[ ... Okay, so a goody-two-shoes with rare exception, then. He had hoped for something less formal, but whatever. He'll roll with it. He tugs his scroll from his pocket as it beeps, glancing at the screen briefly. The credentials offered by a certain cowardly lion were enough to sneak them onto Haven's roster, but he hadn't really tried to do anything else with them. Would they work, or would this send up some kind of red flag?

... Eh.

He taps the invite, and thankfully (for him, at least) the process goes through without a hitch. ]

Aaaaand there we go. Looks like we're all set. [ Slipping the scroll back into his pocket, he eyes her with - you guessed it!! - a smirk. ]

Don't be late, champ. I hate waiting.