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

[ The first time they fought, he only took it half-seriously - because the point then wasn't to win, it was only to gauge her ability, to get a peek at her semblance so they'd know just what they were up against. This time it's different - there's no prize on the line beyond his own pride and ego, and yet in a way those were the things that mattered most to him.

He has to prove, still, that he's strong, even if the reward he wants for that strength may never return.

She's fast, and he has precious little time to decide on his course of action. He could blast up into the air, but that's probably what she expects now that she's seen him in action. No, he wants to take this into the closest range possible, where fists and limbs can outmaneuver blades and spears. So he charges her in turn, sliding to the ground as they draw near to swing his leg out in a sweep, an attack that would turn into a whirlwind of kicks high and low if left uninterrupted. ]

[ He doesn't telegraph his attack so she's left with precious little time to dodge. In an ideal situation, she would jump over his low sleep entirely and roll to a standing position behind him. What unfolds is slightly less than ideal: with a sidestep, she bears down on her heels to make sure her stance is impenetrable and allows her shield to bear the brunt of his whirlwind, and then... patience.

It's only a few seconds, as these things go, but Mercury's onslaught feels everlasting and relentless as Pyrrha waits for an opening. The moment she's given one, she lashes out toward his face twice. First, with the flat of her shield, and then a hard jab with her opposite elbow. For the moment, her strategy is to force him to use his arms. He's shorter than her, after all. His reach can only go so far.

Not pulling out her main weapon is an unusual tactic for Pyrrha. Even she isn't entirely sure why she's doing so, other than a misplaced and poorly defined display of stubbornness meant for people who aren't even here. ]

[ Each blow against her shield echoes throughout the gymnasium, and he knows she needs to figure out some way to counter him eventually. She can turtle up all she wants, but if she doesn't fight back he will find an opening either above or around her, and she's too smart for that - at least, that's what he assumes from what he's seen thus far. He notices her shield start to move - this must be it. He weaves back out of reach for that swing of her shield, starting to zip back into attack range--

He notices the elbow too late, a solid blow connecting with his cheek and snapping his head to one side, a grunt of pain escaping him and shaking his vision briefly. Yet even in that moment his arm is snapping out, reaching for the arm that just struck him to attempt to grab it and throw her off-balance, aiming to fire a blast from his greaves that will send his knee into her gut at rocket speed. She got the first hit - credit where credit's due, she's good.

But if it turns into a close-range slugfest, he's confident he has more experience in taking a beating than she does. ]

[ She slides a few inches back when thrown. Her stomach muscles turn on when his knee strikes true, trying to spare her aura as much as possible by letting her body do the work. Her battle-corset is hardly flimsy, but she feels the blow rattle through her ribcage regardless.

Well, a bruise or two will toughen her up. She'll need that, if she — when she —

A flick of her wrist and her weapon is in hand, immediately elongated into its javelin form. She bears down with the reach it affords her. Whirling like a dervish, her weapon little more than a reddish glint weaving through the air, she lashes out again and again and again. Ideally, she will also have created some distance between the two of them.

Unless her blows are so significant that she barrels out of her icon and into his. ]

[ Oh hey, yeah, there she is!

--But only for a moment. He had been wondering what was taking her so long to draw her weapon, but as soon as it's in her hand he darts back, narrowly avoiding the first strike as it slices the air in front of his nose. He continues backing up, her assault leaving little room for a counter-attack; he dodges the high strikes and deflects the lower ones with his greaves, trying to figure out when and where best to strike. She's gaining momentum. First, he has to interrupt it.

As soon as the next strike swipes through the air he fires blasts from his greaves again to launch him backwards, spiraling through the air as he takes a few shots at her mid-flight; not so much to do real damage, more to help reinforce the distance he's putting between them. He catches himself on his hands, flipping backward onto his feet; this ought to create a lull, much as there had been several the first time they fought. Brief clashes, separations, reevaluations of strategies... this hadn't been necessary against Coco and Yatsuhashi.

His eyes are still hard, focused, but the grin can't leave his lips; now this is what he was looking for. ]

Not too shabby, champ-- oh, sorry. Pyrrha.

[ Across the floor, he grins - and her chin lifts, stifling a swallow as her body straightens that last little inch. By contrast, her expression is as diplomatically neutral as it’s been since their conversation yesterday, the set of her mouth neither kind nor unkind.

There's still that stupid little epithet he throws at her but... Whatever. She lets it go. The last thing she wants to do is talk.

In fact, she barely lets him finish his sentence before she's pushing forward again. At a run, she fires off a few shots before the rifle morphs to shortsword functionality; all without missing a step or affecting a moment's pause. Her goal is the same as it was a few minutes ago: keep pushing him back as much as she can. As strategies go, it's quite rudimentary; but she doesn't need finesse right now. She needs... She doesn't know what she needs. Nor does she really know why she's even here. Hoping an exhaustive fight will quiet her mind, perhaps.

Not that it actually can be called exhaustive. Not yet. As Pyrrha attacks again (and again, and—), she expends a tiny amount of her Semblance so that her weapon comes down just that much harder on any metal filaments in Mercury's clothing. It results in a downward sweeping swing that's uncommonly brutal — something she fails to really take stock of in the heat of the moment. ]

Edited (Missed an apostrophe! ) 2022-12-28 04:36 (UTC)

[ Her silence is fine - it's not like he needs a conversation in order to run his mouth. Besides, they were having a very different sort of conversation now, trading blows instead of words, and truth be told it's a language he much prefers.

He doesn't charge her in kind this time, reacting first to those shots - dodging most, snapping his knee up to block another, though the impact alone definitely affects his aura. She's fast, efficient, and as she reenters melee range? Ruthless, in her attacks. Thankfully that's why he has metal on his gloves as well, using his forearms to redirect blows that come dangerously close to landing true. Just like before - weather the storm, wait for the opening. Another swing comes from overhead, both of his arms rising to block - and it's a damn good thing, because that strike comes down with unexpected weight, driving him instantly to one knee before her. It's not as all-out as the strike from Yatsuhashi, but if she can land blows like this quickly? Much more dangerous than the other swordsman's powerful but easily-read attacks.

But more importantly, he's kneeling before her.

And fuck that.

He uses his legs to start pushing himself back up against the pressure of her sword, leaning back as he fires his boots to give him the extra oomph to break free - and to flip backwards with the toe of his boot aimed square for her chin. Unlike her, he is fully aware of just how much that would hurt if it hit her, fully aware of the brutality of it.

He just doesn't give a damn. ]

[ The blow lands. Her head drives back, chin jerking upward to briefly expose the scant inch of bare skin at her neck. For once, she wasn't too fast for it. The force of the impact rattles through her teeth and the undercurve of her skull, a brief moment of tenderness at the jaw.

That's fine. Another bruise she won't see, another lesson. That move won't work the next time he tries it.

Anyway, isn't this why she sought him out? For a reprieve from the utter dullness of most of what Beacon has offered her so far. Team CRDL had been four-on-one and she hadn't even broken a sweat. And, of course, for the opportunity to gain a better idea of what the wider world may have in store for her when she — when Amber — well.

Pyrrha obviously has a lot to think about. Not least of which is the way the brief sight of him kneeling had caught at her throat, or her diaphragm, or - somewhere between. This isn't the time for any of that, though; she'll be a terrible ~~Maiden~~ Huntress if she can't decompartmentalise. As the kinetic energy his kick had left dissipates down into her muscles, she ignores the lingering tension in her jaw. He took back a bit of space with his last few strikes. She seeks to reclaim it now. In fact, she takes a page from his book to do it: the shortsword leads off in a flurry of blows meant to get inside his guard, and then she aims a strong kick to his midsection before he has the chance to figure out what she's doing. ]

[ It's sick, maybe, the thrum of satisfaction that pulses through him at the sensation of that blow landing true. When violence is all you know, you start to take pleasure in strange, worrisome things. That one had to hurt, had to make her see stars, and as he lands on his feet a short distance back he raises his head to see his handiwork--

she's already on him.

It's only thanks to instincts honed over a childhood of combat that he can react to the first swing in time, stepping quick to one side so it glances off the armor on his shoulder. She really wasn't fazed at all. He'd seen people go down to kicks of half that strength - hell, the blows that felled Yatsuhashi weren't even as fierce. She's actually strong. She's actually a real fighter in this school of children.

There's a buzz in the back of his mind that he hasn't felt in a while. Excitement, maybe?

But there's certainly no time to consider any of that right now, not with her bearing down on him with strike after strike, and he's almost a little annoyed at being thrust on the defensive like this - he can barely keep his eyes of her swordplay, which is why that kick flies right under the radar and right into his ribs, causing him to double over just slightly as the wind threatens to escape his lungs. Should have seen it coming. Have to be faster.

Don't let her take the moment.

His leg snaps low, aiming to hook his heel behind her knee at close range to buckle her stance - and in a rare change of form, it's his palm that strikes out, a blow aimed between her shoulder and her chest meant to force her down onto her back. ]

[ The downside of getting inside someone's guard is that they are also now inside yours. In those instances, being strong was one thing; and she's been strong her whole life. The subtlety and the guile had come later. There were times when she was painfully aware of what her Semblance could do if she truly let loose, and the sacrifice she made for the impression of invincibility. Even without knowing what Mercury's legs are truly made of, Pyrrha knows he has enough metal on his greaves and vambraces that she could throw him through the wall - with or without disguising it as a well-aimed kick.

Because she's unwilling to do any of that, she's facing the consequences now. There's no room left between them for the momentum of a strike that could conceivably mask a push from her Semblance. She's able to catch the incoming palm by letting her shield absorb the hit, but it comes at the cost of her balance. With his leg compromising her own, her back hits the floor with a distinct, calamitous thud.

Well, at least she lasted longer than Yatsuhashi.

Breathing heavily, Pyrrha uses the tangle of limbs he's already created to loop her legs around his and, ideally, throw him over her head. ]

Edited 2022-12-30 00:30 (UTC)

[ Just as she might have felt a certain way about seeing him on his knee before her a few moments prior, the sight of her on her back beneath him is a treat. Obviously the fight isn't over - the blow was more about getting an upper hand than finishing things outright - but it still brings him satisfaction to know that she has to take him seriously, even if he hadn't done her the same honor in their sparring match not long ago. He has a moment to loom over her, eyes sharp, lips pulled to one side in a cocky grin that flashes teeth--

And then the world is flipped upside-down, her legs doing the job of tossing him in a feat of strength that legitimately catches him off-guard. No, it's possible she's using her semblance... he had considered coming in different attire, but he didn't want her to know that he knew what her Semblance was. It also would have hindered his ability to actually block her attacks directly, and it wasn't like this fight was life-or-death.

Maybe it's because he was still having trouble breathing fully from her kick earlier, but what would normally be a quick and easy spring off of his hands to catch himself has him falter and hit the ground just past her on his shoulder - but she's down for the moment too, and if he can keep the fight on the ground he feels confident in his victory. It's why rather than taking the moment to get to his feet he's reaching for her wrists, trying to pin them both to the ground before she gets out of his reach. ]

[ Her goal had been to roll to her feet the moment she was clear of him, on the assumption that he would do similarly. The fact that he's reaching for her wrists catches her off guard. Through this fight, one very important lesson keeps being reinforced over and over — and it's that Mercury Black isn't one for telegraphs, isn't given to predictable behaviour. He fights on instinct, not pattern, and that same instinct is completely indecipherable. She isn't sure there is anything behind it at all.

But now her thoughts are entirely on him. Not Ozpin, not Amber, not the tournament, not the decisions weighing her down, not Beacon, not even her team. And Pyrrha doesn't even realise it, except for looking - and feeling - clearer and more lively than she has in days.

Pulling her weapon back toward her, Pyrrha is halfway to a knee before he can reach her wrists. Miló's cool flat edge rests a careful inch from his throat.

In her pouch, her scroll gives a warning beep, which she ignores. ]

Yield?

[ Pyrrha, on the other hand, has structure to her style - but what should lead to predictability only makes it all the more hard to react when she makes the slightest deviation, and even without those deviations her raw talent and strength are enough to push past most resistance. He hates to admit he's impressed, but... well, yeah. He kind of is.

Case in point, she recovers faster than expected, and he's just beginning to push himself back up onto his hands when the blade stops just short of his throat, and he glances from the weapon to her eyes. He still has aura left. She couldn't kill him before he swept his legs up, and from that beep in her pouch he might do some real lasting damage. He could keep going.

... But he's gained more insight into how she fights, and that's valuable too. Besides, she's surprised him a few times already. Best not give her more chances.

So one of his arms rests an elbow on the ground, his chin resting in his palm, a gesture which actually leaves the blade pressed ever-so-slightly against his throat. ]

You're wild, Pyrrha. I like it.

[ A shrug. ]

Yeah, sure. I yield.

[ As if it's really his decision, as if she didn't really have him at a disadvantage. ]

[ For the first time since she sought him out yesterday, Pyrrha smiles. Her weapon is tucked aside. ]

I don't think anyone has ever used 'wild' to describe me.

[ She doesn't bother to get to her feet quite yet, instead sitting comfortably on the gym floor and taking a moment to steady her breathing. ]

You're not so bad when you actually make an effort.

Oh stop, you're gonna make me blush.

[ ... fat chance, but he does have some color in his cheeks from the exertion alone. Normally he would just bounce now that the task is done, but...

Instead he mirrors her, sitting on the floor with one leg propped up. ]

At least it's good to see that someone around here knows what they're doing.

Oh, I'm sure there are more of us than you think.

[ It's casually said. She's less prompt to defend her school than she might have been a week ago. Reaching into her pouch, she pulls out her scroll, swipes to ~~idk some stupid RWBY app~~ the school's combat reservation system. ]

Well, we have ten minutes left before we have to vacate the gymnasium.

[ What do you want to do now, Mercury? ]

We'll see.

[ At the mention of time, he considers leaving again. It's not that he had anything to really do, but hanging out with other people was never really his thing, and he would usually just kill time with some exercise or some good old-fashioned lazing.

... But he'd gotten some exercise already thanks to her, and Pyrrha has admittedly piqued his curiosity more than he had expected. ]

Well, what've you got going on after this?

[ Training. Sulking. Nothing. Pyrrha's smile becomes something thoughtful. As soon as she leaves this room, she'll have to deal with everything else again. Thinking of it that way, she's almost ashamed of herself for using him as a convenient distraction; he's not a prop in her misery.

A shrug as she traces a line in the floor. ] Actually, I'm free all day.

[ too bad no one told her how embarrassing it is to admit that ]

That right?

[ There's that toxic part of him that wants to just say "well, that sucks for you" and leave her behind, but it's surprisingly taking a backseat to his newfound interest. There's more to her than meets the eye - and that's not to say that what meets the eye is at all unpleasant, either.

... Oh, what the hell. ]

We'll have to do something about that.

[ With a grunt he pushes himself up off the ground and onto his feet - and then turns to Pyrrha to extend a hand, offering to help her up (not that she really needed it). ]

C'mon. Let's see if we can find another rule or two to bend before the day's done.

[ Stuffing her scroll back into her pouch, Pyrrha takes his hand and climbs to her feet. She'll probably never see him again after the tournament exchange students go home, so... why not?

In a joking tone: ]

Are you just using me to find out all of Yang's combat secrets?

[ ~~Assuming she makes it to "after the tournament"--~~ ]

From what I've seen she punches things, gets angry, and punches things harder. Pretty sure that case is open and shut.

[ ... That's like saying he kicks good and that's all there is to it, but maybe he's being deliberately flippant. ]

Besides, why would I think about her when you're right here?

[ His second remark earns him a skeptical look, but she replies solely to the first. ]

Someone could sum up your fighting style just as callously, you know.

And they'd be right.

[ A shrug, one hand resting on his hip. ]

A little intel ahead of time is fine, but in the end you only get to know someone when you're toe to toe with them. Right?

Mm, not when they forfeit the match after thirty seconds.

[ Never going to let you live that one down, dude. ]

And yet, here we are because of it.

[ Smug as shit, not that that's a change of pace in any way whatsoever. ]

So what's that say about you?

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goddamn fight scenes how do they work

messily, that's how-- if you wanna fast forward i'm 1000% down with any outcome

👍

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