TRP is a post-Great War AU RWBY RP set in Mistral City and Haven Academy with no canons, no rank claims, no maidens, and no god interference. We offer a progression system and site-wide events that change the setting based on player actions.
The exhibition tournament had begun. The rules for this tournament itself were simple, the fight went on until one of the two entrants was either knocked off of the arena, their aura was fully depleted, or conceded the match. If both participants are knocked off of the arena at the same time, then the first one to get their entire body back on the arena itself is declared the winner. If two people’s aura dropped at the same time, the match is considered a draw and a rematch is scheduled at the next available open timeslot to declare a definitive winner. Draws were so rare as to be a nonissue in the past, but there was a rule for one nevertheless.
The fighting area itself is white concrete measuring approximately fifty meters by fifty meters raised about five feet in the air. The concrete itself is scuffed and shows signs of use, because it was on this area that all classes that used it in the past. The damage dealt in previous years was repaired, sure, but signs of that repair still remained. This was one of the bigger training facilities with some more equipment nearby, and that equipment was put to good use. There was a scoreboard that was lit up with the names of the contestants as well as their faces gracing the board. Contestants started between twenty and twenty-five meters away from each other, with a five meter by five meter block where each contestant could choose to make their starting position.
The matchup today was very much a grudge match between two trainees who hated each other. Kishka Burzanova and Aegle Verdant were both part of an ill-fated Perimeter Defense mission that while technically successful was not considered as such by most involved. The dislike they had of each other wasn’t exactly the most well-guarded of secrets, especially when Aegle picked Kishka and she rage quit the chat room after voicing very strongly worded complaints.
The stakes of this match were simple: the winner advanced onto the finals for the Class Red and had the chance to make it to the Grand Finals against the Class Green. Winning in the finals would not only secure a very prestigious spot in the exhibition rounds of the Vytal Festival with all the media attention that entailed alongside a shot at glory in front of the entire world… but it also meant winning the first Class Competition.
Homeroom became a mandatory part of the day starting at eight o’clock in the morning for everyone involved, and it was a decent half mile distance away from the dorms itself. The winning class of this competition will have their homeroom located as near to the dorms as possible with catering staff to serve breakfast until the next clash between classes. The losing class, however, will be exiled to Training Area Four roughly two miles from the dormitory and will have no catering – being forced to pack their own breakfast or wake up super early in order to eat before heading out. Since winter was fast approaching, this was not an ideal situation for anyone involved and harshly punished the losing team by forcing them to wake up earlier and make the trek in the snow every single weekday morning for an indeterminate amount of time.
Naturally, the stakes were high enough that nobody in the right mind wanted to lose. An extra half hour of sleep every weekday morning added up to two and a half hours of sleep a week – or ten hours of sleep a month. That’s a lot of sleep potentially lost due to the commute over, which could have adverse effects in all of the losing class’s performance in school as a whole. That was a far away concern at this point, however, as the contestants were setting themselves up on the arena itself and waiting for the timer to tick down to zero. Currently it was at around fifteen seconds remaining, allowing for last-minute adjustments on either side to get that little edge they might need before the conflict began.
Post by Aegle Verdant on Oct 6, 2019 22:21:43 GMT -5
Aegle stepped up to her mark without preamble, eyes set unblinking on the open stretch of naked concrete which lay between her and her opponent. She studied that patch of earth, that intervening distance, with the utmost intensity, as though she might find some sought after answer secreted between the scuffed up slabs. She studied that space, because she would soon need to cross it. Cross it with the utmost haste, likely while under a hail of gunfire. The prospect should have been exciting for her. Since coming back from her midterms, wherein two pitched battles had uncovered a previously unknown part of herself, Aegle had sought fights wherever she could find them. She'd challenged Nasrin to a fight within a few minutes of first meeting the pinkette, and Lily within a few seconds. She'd returned to her training and her exercises with Doc, no longer treating either like obligations or a means to an end, but reveling in them for their own sake. It had become her protest and her escape, a means by which she could celebrate her independence and her freedom, rather than dwell in the self-made prison of self-doubt and self-loathing she'd been trapped herself in, before the trials in Haven Forest.
She enjoyed fighting, and she was good at it. Perhaps she was not as strong as Colton Deraine, nor did she ever expect to be as strong as he was, nor anyone else in her class for that matter. Yet her fights with the boarbatusk and the ursa major had taught her it wasn't all about strength.
Aegle should have been excited; This was just another fight after all, and she enjoyed fighting, so why shouldn't she enjoy this? There were no shortage of reasons, as it turned out. Anyone who'd watched the Draft, who'd seen what Aegle had done when the picks were being made, could already guess one of those reasons. Her fight with Nasrin had been a lark, an absurdity, a means for blowing off some steam and, in a way, punishing herself. It hadn't mattered if she won or lost, only that she was fighting. The same could be said for her fight with the faunus girl, Lily. Winning that fight hadn't meant anything, and neither had losing. It was just for fun, a way of getting to know the new girl, with the lowest stakes imaginable, if they had even existed at all. None could deny that stakes existed in this fight however and, though not so high as they had been when she'd put her life and limb on the line protecting Alexandros, Aegle would have felt the pressure even if it weren't for her opponent's identity.
Some freakish fancy had made her into a captain, and put half the first years under her sway, and she'd been made to pick every single one of them. She'd picked them knowing that, before too long, there would be a contest between her team and Deraine's, and that it was a contest they were most likely going to lose. That contest had come, and this was the opening move. A handful of fights on both sides of the divide, to choose who would represent each team in a final battle which would decide where everyone slept for the next couple of months. Not especially high stakes for a girl who'd literally fought for her life not so long ago, but stakes affecting not only herself, but all those poor suckers she'd chosen to be on her team. People she owed for lumping them in with the likes of her... People, most of whom would have been better off if she hadn't picked them at all, and who deserved better than her for a leader... People who were counting on her, and counting on everyone else participation in these exhibitions.
People like Kishka.
Aegle lifted her eyes, peered at her opponent. Kishka had been present for every shameful thing that Aegle had done since arriving at Haven. She'd been there to see Aegle's nerve fail at the walls, during the Argus offensive. She'd been there to see Aegle's body fail, during the escort exercise. She'd seen, and she'd spoken up, and she'd spread the story far and wide of just how ineffective, fragile, useless a creature was Aegle Verdant. And Aegle had paid her back in kind, choosing her to be a part of the rag-tag coalition of misfits the crooked girl had constructed from Haven's First Year Class. Was there some of Van Sange's meddling here too, that Kishka should be Aegle's opponent? It seemed there must be, because surely random chance couldn't account for so a dramatic match up as this. Some conscious effort must have been behind it. Surely.
Aegle flexed her fingers, hands stuffed into the pouch at her front. Despite Nasrin's protestations, Aegle had insisted on wearing her worn out orange hoodie, the same one left shredded by the trials in Haven Forest, the same one which was stained red brown with Aegle's blood. Those stains were still there, showing every place where the boarbatusk had gotten through her guard, tallying each time she'd been too slow to get out of its way or turn its raking tusks aside. More than that, it still showed where an Ursa had sliced right through Aegle's aura, and left four deep cuts in her side. It, like Kishka, was a monument to Aegle's incapacity as a huntress, a reminder of failures which, somehow, had not ended in the crooked girl's death.
Spreading her boot shod feet apart, Aegle rolled her head from side to side and slipped her hands free of her pockets. With swaddled fingers, she raked back her hood, and thereby exposed the downy thatch of thin hazel hair sticking spiky from her scalp. She wasn't sure how long she had before the fight started, so took only a few seconds steeling her nerve. Breathing deep, trying to slow the hammering of her heart in her ears, she forced back the myriad mixed emotions clamoring for attention in her head. Her doubt, her fear, her excitement, all of it, all tamped down hard beneath one single, overwhelming imperative...
The want, the need, to win. words - 1,038 total - 1,038
Post by Kishka Burzanova on Oct 6, 2019 23:19:43 GMT -5
KISHKA BURZANOVA
She understood how Nik felt.
All the time. That burning, intense, rage that could not be quelled. Nothing anyone could say to her was enough to calm the fires, not for long enough, anyways. Argent tried. He did his best to calm her down, and that was probably the only reason she hadn't blown a fuse prior to the fight. She was pissed. And rightfully so- the little bitch had gone out of her way to pick Kishka and not Argent. She knew exactly what she was doing; it was deliberate. Maybe some of the blame could have been shouldered by her, and the way she'd treated the girl, but that was no reason to drag her through the mud- the Red Class wasn't where she belonged, and Aegle fucking knew it.
She also understood how Colton felt. About Qiu'li.
That was why she had very deliberately chosen to arrive to her exhibition match with Aegle in a decidedly unusual fashion. It was a statement- she didn't see Aegle as a threat. She was a stupid, worthless, crippled coward who had no purpose at a Huntsman Academy. Everybody knew that. Her appointment as Team Captain was a sign of Haven's pathetic desperation after The Fall- clearly, Van Sange was a poor choice for faculty, and a loose cannon who should have been sacked at the first step of his hiring process. Just like Aegle should have been given the boot during her entrance tests.
Maybe in another world, she'd have taken pity on the kid. Tried to boost her skills and take her under her wing. She had started to after the Perimeter Defense mission. Hell, she had almost gained a shred of respect for her, then, when she dragged her injured ass off the ground to stand watch with Kishka, silently guarding the two more critically wounded students.
But whatever respect she had for Aegle Verdant had died when she was selected in the Draft.
Colton, she could some day forgive. He'd told her she was worth two points, at best. That was fair. Stupid, and absurd, but fair. But Aegle was trash. Garbage. Not worthy of her presence, let alone her cooperation in the same class. In one decision, Aegle had damned her to two and a half years of wasting her time with Haven's bottom feeders and losers, while Colton swept up all the students who were worth a fuck.
All of her friends.
Every fucking one of them. Niraya, Rose, Holly... Argent.
She was beyond pissed that Aegle had so purposefully separated them. Argent wasn't happy either, but where he was frustrated and a bit betrayed, she was furious. She had to buy a new Scroll. The Draft process had cost her the one she'd had before, when she threw it against the wall. Multiple times. Along with much of her furniture.
When she'd found that her name had been picked alongside Aegle's in the exhibition tournament, it was like fate had punched her in the ribs.
Sure, she wanted to fight her. Wanted to rip her apart, break her down, and show her exactly who she had fucked with.
But Aegle wasn't worth that. No, to fight her in earnest was to show her respect. She deserved none. Kishka planned on giving her exactly the amount of respect she deserved. And that was why she had dragged an armchair into the middle of the arena.
She'd checked with the faculty supervising the tournament beforehand. There wasn't necessarily a rule against it. But she was advised that it was a stupid move, and a shitty thing to do. It wouldn't look good on her, displaying so much disregard for her opponent. She didn't care. Her opponent had disregarded her. Disrespected her almost as much as Bel had done. Except Bel had disrespected her over a lifetime- Aegle, a single moment.
Kishka sat upon her throne, twirling Lucky 13 in her hands, glaring daggers as the short girl stepped into the arena. She didn't react. She just let Aegle take a good, long, look at her. The kid seemed anxious. She almost could have mistaken it for excitement. But that was impossible- if she knew Aegle half as well as she knew she did, the little fucker was shaking in her goddamn boots. A pathetic, pointless, unarmed moron versus a Sanctum graduate? Someone she'd seen in action? Hell, Kishka had put down a Beowolf in front of her, with ease. She'd been the one to bring down both Ursa Majors. It had basically been her versus all the Beowolves, and both Ursas. If anything, the fight would have been faster, and easier, with her at the helm.
There was simply no way that Aegle was looking forward to this. Maybe she thought that Kishka, seated lazily on a plush velvet throne, would be an easy target? Maybe she thought, for one pitiable second, that her miserable ass had a chance? It would be hilarious, if it wasn't so fucking sad.
She would destroy the broken boxer standing before her, and she would do it without having to leave her armchair. It was the easiest thing in the fucking world. Like she was supposed to take a ant seriously when it issued a challenge- something she could crush beneath her heel with less than a thought. Aegle was nothing to her.
Nothing but a thorn in her side. She stretched her arms out behind her, propping her head up against them as they settle against the back of her chair. She offered Aegle a glance and a tilt of her eyebrow, as the clock ticked down until their match began. She thought up all the nastiest insults she could throw at her, but her rage was seething, and she couldn't let it loose completely. No, this was a statement, that she was making. She was doing what Colton had done to Qiu'li, but up to eleven. Because it didn't matter- Aegle couldn't hurt her. She was untouchable. In the end, she settled on simpler words, the only thing she had to say to Aegle before the match began.
"Fuck you. You hate me enough to fuck me over like you did? Come and do something about it." What was it Aegle had said in the group chat? 'You know where to find me.' Well now it was time for her to put her Lien where her fucking mouth was.
Post by Aegle Verdant on Oct 7, 2019 12:30:21 GMT -5
Aegle shouldn't have been at all surprised by what she saw, shouldn't have been at all surprised that Kishka, with the whole class depending on her to take this fight seriously, would jeopardize it with some ill-conceived effort to act like she was somehow above it all. Aegle couldn't really blame her for behaving that way, nor for thinking she didn't have to put in any real effort to win, not given aught she'd seen of the crooked girl and her track record at Haven.
And yet, it still somehow managed to make Aegle angry to see the Burzanova girl nestled in an armchair, like she'd no greater concern in the whole wide world than making Aegle feel less capable. The insult she could have borne, but the dereliction of duty, the presupposition that this fight was for no better purpose than her own self-aggrandizement, the thought that she might, if allowed to advance beyond this bracket of the competition, do something similar in a fight against Colton Deraine... All of that infuriated Aegle. It filled her with an anger and a disbelief she was altogether ill-equipped to handle. "Fuck you." As if she could tell just what Aegle was thinking, Kishka sneered across the arena with all the confidence of a cat who's cornered the mouse, "You hate me enough to fuck me over like you did? Come and do something about it." Aegle bristled at once. She'd gone over what she'd done more times than she could count, and had come to realize it was the wrong decision a dozen times over. Yet, as she was confronted with Kishka's anger, her venom, there was a part of her which was still greatly satisfied in the result of her efforts. She'd hurt Kishka, doing what she'd done, and, though she knew it had been the wrong thing to do, some part of her still felt good to have the hurt and helplessness reflected back at her in Kishka's taunt.
Aegle's expression curdled. She disliked that part of herself. The part which had let her drag Kishka down when, in the end, they both would have been much happier if she'd not been clever, if she'd not understood exactly how to hurt the Burzanova, if she'd simply left Kishka alone. The part which, seeing Kishka's explosion in HavenChat when she'd realized what had happened, had been so incredibly pleased, had been so vindictively self-satisfied, to have done something so petty, mean spirited and, ultimately, self-defeating.
Slowly, Aegle tipped her head back. She forced down her anger, at herself and at Kishka, and the pressure inside grew just the tiniest bit greater. Then, rolling her head back and forth, she pretended not to care that Kishka was seated a couple dozen strides distant, laid back in a recliner like she didn't need to take any of this serious. She pretended she didn't understand Kishka's outrage, and that she didn't wholly deserve being its focus. She pretended everything was alright, that it would all be okay. That this was no more than a training exercise, with no greater stakes to it than momentary bragging rights. That defeat here would not mean proving Kishka Burzanova right, would not also result in Kishka making it to the next bracket, where she might jeopardize the whole team.
No, this was just for practice. Just for fun. 'Smile,' Aaron had told her, 'And pretend.'
Aegle smiled. The expression stretched out, broad, across her lips, as a blossom of bright white in a wan and sickly face. It glittered there for a moment, flashing fractal as the cracks in a shattered pane. Then, beginning with a gentle tinkling, Aegle started to laugh.
And then the fight began.
Aegle threw herself forward, launched into an ungainly sprint across the level stones straight at Kishka, emerald eyes ablaze in her face as a gleeful grin split it from ear to ear. Her laughter was a keening edge, cutting through the air as jagged and sharp as broken glass. About twenty strides lay between her and Kishka, and Aegle was not especially quick on her feet. Had she been taking this seriously, Kishka likely could have outrun Aegle, and done so easily, but, even sitting still, it would still take a few seconds for her to reach the Burzanova, more than enough time for her to fire off a shot, if she was so inclined. If she even thought it was necessary... words - 742 total - 1,780
Post by Kishka Burzanova on Oct 7, 2019 14:14:04 GMT -5
KISHKA BURZANOVA
Were she any less furious, she might have allowed herself a smirk at seeing Aegle recoil, ever so slightly, at her barbed words. She'd struck a nerve. The purple-haired girl could hardly know why- she didn't know that Aegle had spent the last few days agonizing over her choices. Didn't know the regret, the shame, the pain that she had caused herself. All Kishka knew was that Aegle had fucked up, when she tried targeting her. And there was no going back now. If she relented and forfeited the match, the entire school would see her for the spineless craven coward she was. But she was too weak-willed to do even that. She would stand there and allow Kishka to berate and belittle her until the bell rang to end the match. It was pathetic.
Kishka didn't move from her armchair, and aside from her constant glare, did nothing to acknowledge Aegle as a threat. Because she wasn't. It was as plain as day to her. But then she saw it.
The brat was grinning.
Her anger fumed. She made good on the meaning of her family's name- her eyes were electric, a lightning field of lethal violet, glowing like a thunderstorm. Her teeth grit together hard enough to crack steel, and the most she could do to keep herself calm was to inhale, slowly, through her nose.
The little asshole was grinning at her. Like a fucking lunatic. Like a moron. Like she had any possible hopes of coming close to winning this fight. It was so laughable it hurt. And yet, it did nothing but infuriate her even further- how fucking dare she slap a big stupid smile on her face?
She was enjoying this.
She wanted to see Kishka get mad. She wanted her to be angry. It was a game to her. In some twisted, fucked up, way, Aegle was truly enjoying herself.
Kishka would be putting a stop to that.
But not before it got worse. At first, she couldn't pinpoint what the sound was, coming from the girl's mouth. But it hit her. It was a chittering, creaky, sound like a room full of flies, buzzing around, making too much noise. It was annoying. She was laughing.
Laughter.
She was mocking Kishka.
If she was angry before, there wasn't a word for how she felt now. She was going to make the kid eat every one of those ridiculous giggles. She was going to tear her apart so fiercely that nobody could put her back together again- in that moment, she was looking forward to causing Aegle's second heart attack at Haven Academy. And maybe this time, she would get a clue, and not come back again.
She didn't belong here.
Not like Kishka did. She'd worked her ass off to get to Haven. Fought tooth and nail for every scrap she could steal from Bel's plate- every little bit of attention, of recognition, she had earned, and earning it had been twice as hard, because of the damn comparisons. And for Aegle to disrespect her in such a way, disregarding her achievements, her efforts... It was unforgivable.
She had started training early. Gone to Sanctum. Hell, in spite of setbacks, she'd graduated, and managed to get into Haven. Because why wouldn't she be allowed into Haven? She could have been accepted into any of the major Huntsman Academies. But she chose Haven, because that was where she saw herself. Unlike Bel, she didn't run from a challenge- when she'd set out to attend Haven, it was before the Fall. She had intended fully to attend Haven in the presence of Cressida, something Bel was too afraid to do herself.
And here Haven went and disappointed her.
By letting in trash like Aegle. Someone who had nothing to offer. Maybe if she hadn't done what she'd done with the draft, she would have had a redeemable personality. Not everyone was born to fight. But dammit, she walked in here, into this arena, believing she had a shot?
As if she wasn't made of twisted, broken, gnarled lumps of glass.
Kishka had seen her brace. When she had treated her wounds after their mission together. If she couldn't stand on her own... How would she ever make it as a Huntress? If she was incapable of surviving without a piece of metal wrapped around her... Then what hope did she have of doing anything but dying in the field? This was a mercy- she was going to put her down now, so she didn't get any big ideas about what she could do later.
But not yet.
This was orchestrated disrespect.
And with Kishka's flair for drama, it simply wouldn't do to take Aegle out before she humored the girl. No matter how much she hated her, she had to play this out by the script she'd written. Aegle would have the first punch.
Or well. The first attempt at a punch.
The bell rang, and Kishka sat there, eyes fulled with contempt and rage, never wavering from Aegle's clumsy approach. She was much slower than Kishka, and yet, she didn't make up for it in strength. Kishka knew that. She wasn't stupid- she was letting her take the first punch. If there was even a chance it could do more than negligible damage to her, she wouldn't give her the opportunity. But she knew it was as likely to hurt her, than it was to hurt the sky, or the center of the planet. The kid hadn't even managed to kill a Beowolf. Pissed herself, had a full-on panic attack, and nearly died, because of the Grimm Sanctum students were trained on- if there were ever a Grimm equivalent to an entry level part-time job, it was a Beowolf. And Aegle had been scared shitless of it.
She should have let it snatch her up, give her a good thrashing, before she'd killed it for her.
Maybe then she'd have learned.
The thought brought a smile to her face, one filled with malice and arrogance. She opened her umbrella and tossed it over her shoulder, as she waited patiently.
The little crippled girl ran headlong at Kishka, stupid grin still plastered on her face, and her punch rang easy and true. There was no attempt to dodge it, or deflect it, no attempt at a counterattack. It hit Kishka square in the jaw, and sent her reeling, knocking the chair over as she backrolled onto her feet, behind the prop furniture.
In truth, it was a harder punch than she'd expected, lopping off an easy fifth of her Aura. But it was the only punch she planned on giving the girl, so hopefully she would be satisfied with it. She stood confidently where she landed, and should Aegle continue her charge, she would only move to dodge attacks. But from beside Aegle, the wooden chair, lined with velvet cushions, rose up, as Kishka grit her teeth from the concentration required for a heavier object than she was used to, right before she sent it hurdling at the girl, with a wave of her hand.
"I said do something about it, Kid. Hit me like you fucking mean it!"
Notes// R A G E | Tagged// @aglet | WC// 1211 | TWC// 2283
Post by Aegle Verdant on Oct 9, 2019 10:07:04 GMT -5
Despite all her expectations, Aegle was still a little surprised when Kishka didn't even bother to get up as she charged forward. Instead, the Burzanova remained seated, sedately waiting, not even bothering to brace against the inevitable impact of Aegle's fist. It was plainly meant to send a message. A message that Kishka, even under threat of harm, could not count Aegle as a threat. It turned the crooked girl's charge into an abstract game of chicken, one where either party won by holding through to their initial course. A flash of anger sparked through Aegle's guts, but it was one tinged by a sense of doubt and melancholy, and the thought that perhaps she really didn't rate any more of a reaction that Kishka had given her. A sense that, mayhaps, she really wasn't that much of a threat. Aegle knew it wasn't entirely wrong, which made the idea that much harder to outright discount. She was weak, and nothing she ever did would change that. She recalled her efforts to kill the boarbatusk, how her fists had only manage to enrage the beast, and how it had not been until Alexandros intervened, with his makeshift spear, that she'd been able to actually hurt the monster.
Had Kishka heard about that fight too, Aegle wondered. Did she know? It was a question which was easy to dismiss; Kishka didn't know, because her knowing would have required her to take some kind of interest in Aegle beyond what was apparent from a cursory inspection. It was a level of interest well beyond the self-centered, self-obsessed huntress. That thought made her feel better, somehow, reassured her that, even if she had done the wrong thing not so long ago, that she was doing the right thing now. And that, even if she wasn't doing the right thing, it didn't matter. This was the course she'd chosen and, win or lose, she would see it through to the bitter conclusion.
That thought, at least, was a relief. Kishka rolled to her feet with surpassing smoothness, but Aegle did not slow. Darting around the toppled chair, she continued her charge towards the Burzanova, who was making no effort to put some space between them. "I said do something about it, Kid," Kishka spat, as though a punch on the point of her jaw hadn't been Aegle doing something, "Hit me like you fucking mean it!" As if Aegle hadn't clearly meant it. The crooked girl tittered, finding something absurd in Kishka's defiance and her taunt, as if she hadn't just allowed herself to get into close quarters with a fighter who excelled at that range. The smarter course, had Kishka not been so blinded by arrogance and spite, would have been for her to keep her distance and pick away at Aegle's aura at range. It wouldn't have been as showy though, and wouldn't have sent quite the same message. A measured retreat, accompanied by a couple of careful shots, wouldn't have communicated Kishka's contempt, but would have instead suggested that she might actually consider Aegle a threat. Except, by not treating Aegle as a threat, Kishka had turned her into one.
Aegle's next punch was half a feint, a quick jab meant for nothing more than finding her range, intended more to mask the chambering of a haymaker behind the movement of Aegle's upper body. Kishka dodged it easily, without giving up a step of ground; She was quick, Aegle realized, when she had the mind to be.
Aegle was not sure what warned her; Perhaps it was simply the tension which seemed to ripple across Kishka's face, or the minute flicking of her eye, the shift of her attention off of Aegle to somewhere just beyond her left shoulder. Whatever had given it away, the crooked girl had already abandoned her followup haymaker as Kishka raised her hand, and quickstepping to the side as that hand slashed the air before her. The chair caught her by its corner, turning her sidestep into a pirouette as it caromed off her shoulder, filling her arm with stinging numbness all the way to the tips of her fingers. Still, Aegle managed to keep her feet and, despite the fizzing ache that filled her left side, chambered an punch with that self same arm, to turn the spin of her pirouette into an upward hook aimed right for Kishka's core.
It was an immediate response which, made all the more shocking by the fact that Aegle's did not even seem to notice she'd been hit, despite the fractional blow which had been struck to her aura reserves. words - 772 total - 2,552
Post by Kishka Burzanova on Oct 10, 2019 11:51:10 GMT -5
KISHKA BURZANOVA
Aegle threw a quick jab at her, and even in all her rage, she had to appreciate that it wasn't bad. The kid might be a fucking moron who ran around punching shit like a goddamn unarmed savage, but at least she had the technique for it. Kishka could appreciate that much. She wasn't entirely worthless.
But that only pissed her off more.
It would be better if she was complete and utter garbage at everything she did. But if she was a skilled boxer? That gave her a halfway valid in. She could use that to cling to Haven like the fucking parasite she was, wasting everybody's time and resources trying to keep her alive, because she thought she'd do better in the field than in the ring. A joke. A sick, stupid, joke. That was all she saw when she looked at Aegle.
Dodging the feint was effortless. Unlike many, if not most, of Aegle's opponents to this point, Kishka was a trained fighter, and a duelist above all else. She thrived in one on one combat, and if she weren't so angry and upset, she might have even been enjoying herself. But even with the rage and arrogant dismissal making her a bit sloppier than she usually was, she had her Sanctum training to fall back on, and that meant Aegle was far from the first boxer she'd encountered. She anticipated the follow-up punch, and was almost pleasantly surprised to find that Aegle had noticed her trick with the armchair. Almost, anyways.
Maybe this wouldn't be as one-sided a fight as she had envisioned.
But she did notice something, as the chair dinged against Aegle's shoulder. Even a glancing blow like that should have done a good bit of damage... But it looked like it had simply bounced off her aura, which didn't even budge as she deftly rolled by the chair. Her eyes widened a fraction. But she didn't have long to be surprised, as she noticed what Aegle was attempting to do. A bitter grin crossed her face, and as Aegle moved to swing up into her gut, the faster Kishka swung around the punch, deftly bringing her umbrella down towards Aegle's presumably-extended arm, as at least the initial punch missed its mark, before bringing her weapon out to hit Aegle across the face, in what would hopefully be a quick two-step strike, delivered disinterestedly with a single hand, as she didn't bother to move further out of Aegle's range. Aegle was a boxer, yeah?
Well, she intended to beat her down at close range, then. She had planned initially to leisurely strike her down at a distance, saving her melee strategies for Vytal, but this felt so much better. What better way to demoralize and break down the little shit than to get right in her face and conquer her with ease, proving that even the things Aegle excelled at, she would never amount to anything, compared to Kishka?
For a split second, her mind flew to her fights with Bel.
This was what Bel did.
This was how Bel fought her. Bored. Lethargic in her attacking. And anything Kishka tried to do to take the upper hand, Bel had always been just a little better than her at it. Everything. She was always just a little stronger, just a little quicker, just a little bit further ahead. She had never had any hopes of beating her twin in a fight, not until she had redoubled her training efforts, teamed up with Argent and Holly, and set about her goal of destroying Bel with every bit of energy she had.
Just days ago, she had wanted to give Aegle that same chance.
That fire to defeat her, to grow stronger from the adversity. She hadn't hated Aegle until the draft. Dismissed her? Of course. An eagle was always dismissive of the ants littering the ground below. But she hadn't hated her. The kid had something in her that she had wanted to draw out of her.
But now? She only wanted to draw one thing out of Aegle, and that was blood.
She was going to break her down and this time, she had no intentions of putting her back together again. Aegle had seen her fight before. She knew damn well what Kishka was capable of. And she knew damn well that she was going to lose this fight. "You're a joke, you know that? Class Captain, my ass. The fuck do you know about leadership? Or anything?!" That should be me, leading our class. Not you. As much as she wanted to say it, she didn't. Couldn't bring herself to express the envy in her heart.
She couldn't be envious of a sad little broken child. She refused to allow herself to be. She was better than Aegle. She was better.
Post by Aegle Verdant on Oct 10, 2019 12:43:52 GMT -5
Though Aegle had already known about Kishka's past experience with one on one combat, it was another thing entirely to experience it for herself. A flash of a smile broke through the glaze of condescension on Kishka's face, the briefest glimpse of some sort of enjoyment poised behind her withering glare, as her ridiculous weapon came down on Aegle's forearm just as her fist was scything up towards the taller fighter's midsection. Reacting more on instinct that anything else, Aegle abandoned the hook, let her arm get knocked wide, and quickly raised her other arm for the counter stroke she somehow sensed coming. Kishka did not disappoint, flicking, with almost casual ease, up and out towards Aegle's head. "You're a joke, you know that?" She hissed, venomous and dismissive at once, "Class Captain, my ass. The fuck do you know about leadership? Or anything?!" Had she been a bit quicker in melee, her form a bit sturdier; Had she not over-committed to the parry, nor been sluggish in the riposte; Had hand to hand been her focus, and not ranged fighting, the counter attack might have landed. Instead, like it was something prearranged, Aegle caught the rising umbrella on the steel which braced her forearm and, without moving her hand too far, flicked it just wide of her face. She cut it so close that Aegle still felt the air it disturbed as Kishka's umbrella flashed harmlessly past her face.
"Little and less," Aegle said, fading a half-step closer, "I ain't no leader." She had stepped right inside of Kishka's guard, near enough that the taller girl's longer weapon would be a hindrance, and that even Aegle was limited to jabs and hooks, instead of the haymakers she depended upon do deal any real damage. The point wasn't to hurt Kishka however, but to prey on her weaknesses. Aegle knew how Kishka fought, had studied everything she could before the fight, had dug up every detail available on the Burzanova's previous fights. There'd been no shortage of material to choose from, and they'd all told the same story. A competent fighter at range who liked to choose her shots but frequently overestimated her capabilities. Nothing which Aegle had not already known. Something Aegle hadn't known was just how quick Kishka was. A certain amount of alacrity came with marksmanship, but Kishka demonstrated a more than passing familiarity with defense which suggested she did not like getting hit. Moreover, her confidence catalyzed naturally within the rather stressful alchemy of exchanging blows, allowing her to remain collected, if not cool, while under fire. What had been obvious from the videos, however, was that Kishka was not good in close quarters, lacking both the martial proficiency and the temperament required to take punches in melee range. Though naturally quick on her feet, and demonstrably adept at reading an opponent's movements, the fact was that she was most comfortable when striking from afar. In short, she was the polar opposite of Aegle, who excelled in the sweaty confines of hand to hand infighting.
Had Kishka been so inclined as to make this a ranged fight, things would have been much more difficult for Aegle. She would have been forced into an advance under determined fire, trying to catch an opponent who was clearly much faster than she was. In close quarters however, those advantages which Kishka had became moot. She could not keep up with Aegle in melee; Even if they exchanged blows like for like, Aegle had ample practice at taking a punch and almost as much at getting out of the way. Kishka did not.
Two quick jabs, one from either hand, thumped down for Kishka's thighs. Not a terribly damaging spot to land a hit, and not a terribly damaging way in which to do it, but damage wasn't what was important. Letting Kishka know she was being hit was what was important, and the fact was that she was likely to use just as much aura guarding ancillary strikes as she was to guard the one's that really mattered. Kishka did not like getting hit, or so Aegle assumed, and the idea of not using her aura to defend a strike would seem like madness to her. What was really important was that Aegle force Kishka to give up ground. That she should push her onto her heels, force her into fighting from her back foot. That would make her angry, being forced into retreat by someone like Aegle, and angry would make her sloppy and bold. Sloppy and bold enough, Aegle hoped, to stay in melee range and tire herself out.
Because what Aegle had realized, coming into this match, was that Kiskha and herself were set to fight the same person. Kishka, if she was smart and careful, if she took Aegle as a legitimate threat, could have easily dictated the course of the battle. She could have chipped away at Aegle's aura, beyond any fear of counter attack, and she could have run Aegle around the whole arena, tiring her out. She had every advantage imaginable, from a good weapon, the wont to use it, and a genuinely useful semblance. With a bit of patience, she could have easily taken the match. But Kishka was at war with no other person more than herself. Her habit of overconfidence, her tendency to let emotion and sentiment cloud her judgement, and a not insubstantial, nor unwarranted, hatred for Aegle would put her at odds with her own best interests. And so they had, and here was the proof. Kishka, who was best at range, was sharing melee blows with a girl who was only capable of melee combat.
It made Aegle want to laugh the cruelest sort of laugh, because it was like there was someone else in the arena with them, someone else on Aegle's side; Someone who looked just like Kishka. words - 985 total - 3,537
Post by Kishka Burzanova on Oct 11, 2019 18:46:09 GMT -5
KISHKA BURZANOVA
At least the brat knew her place.
She knew she wasn't a leader, and the admission of such was almost a small comfort to Kishka, in a way. It would be easy to take her spot. But it did nothing to temper her anger. Knowing that Aegle knew she was unfit to be a leader didn't make her decisions any better. Didn't make Van Sange's choice any more rational. She might have even been able to accept it if Aegle had genuinely believed she was doing what was best for her class. But knowing that she had no fucking clue what she was doing, and was okay with that?
She was mad.
And she was madder when Aegle dared lay hands on her umbrella. But beneath that anger, stewed something deeper. She remembered the first time she'd caught Bel's blade, midfight- she ate the attack with her hand, clutching onto the sword with all her strength, and the look of shock and dismay on her sister's face had been so priceless, so well-earned... It had distracted her entirely from following up on her plan, giving Bel ample time to recover and soundly bring her down. But it had been so worth it... Just knowing that she could have won.
Kishka remembered for a moment in time that this was what she lived for.
She allowed the grin from before to creep back across her face, wild-eyed with teeth bared like the fangs of some jungle cat. Unlike Bel, she wasn't taken aback for very long, and what was more, she saw clean through Aegle's foolish thoughts. Catching her weapon and moving into closer range would have been a great strategy, were Kishka any less of a versatile fighter- while she was at her best with her weapon, she was proficient enough without it. True, her fists couldn't deal half as much damage as her umbrella, but she was no slouch at fighting hand-to-hand. Not as good at Aegle, of course, but why should she be? What kind of moron trains exclusively with their fists?
Two quick jabs lunged at her legs, but they could have just as well been aimed at the arena's walls. The fact was, Aegle was absolutely correct in assuming that Kishka had taken no efforts to study Aegle's fighting style beyond the bare minimum observed in classes and on their mission together. And with that willful ignorance came a great deal of overconfidence and underestimation- she doubted Aegle's punches could really do much damage at all, and she wasn't wrong. The blows connected, meeting a slight fizzle of black, as her aura met the punches. But while Aegle was throwing punches at her, her face was wide open, and Kishka took advantage of that fact, throwing a harsh elbow at the shorter girl's nose, while making little effort to do more than maintain her grip on her weapon. It was a statement, like every other throughout this fight- she didn't need her weapon to bring Aegle down.
She had to hand it to her, though- the fight was dragging on longer than she had anticipated, and she was actually starting to get a little weary. She'd just have to finish things soon.
The two strikes to her legs caused her to buckle slightly, as anyone punched in the thighs would tend to do, but she gave no ground. If Aegle wanted her to move, she would just have to make her, and Kishka doubted seriously that the bald girl was even capable of such a feat. "Of course you're not a leader- you shouldn't even be here! Best case scenario, you fuck up and get yourself killed. Worst case scenario? You fuck up and get everyone around you killed too. You're a liability, not a Huntress." She didn't even necessarily believe that, in truth- she had seen at least a small modicum of potential in Aegle, from the day she'd met her, and if their current fight was enough to go on, she at least knew how to handle herself without running away. A definite change for the better from their first encounter.
But she wanted to hurt Aegle now.
And if beating the hell out of her wasn't enough to do that, then she had to hit her where it counted- mentally, emotionally, psychologically, taking potshots at her insecurities and fears. Kishka knew she had them- she had them. She didn't think she was good enough; why the hell would Aegle be any different?
With a flick of the wrist, Kishka snapped open her umbrella, in hopes that the hefty, chain-meshed, umbrella top springing out would force Aegle to let go of the weapon, and ideally knock her back. Assuming that strategy worked, she would close it again and lash out quickly with a series of rapid-fire strikes at Aegle with the weapon, as quickly and savagely as she could swing it. If it didn't work, she would attempt to muscle the umbrella around to aim it at Aegle's head, before firing the cannon at her. Either way, her goal was to inflict as much damage as she could- this fight was dragging on for way too long, and it needed to end.
Not that she wasn't enjoying herself a little... It wasn't like the kid was a worthy opponent, but sometimes taking out the trash was immensely more satisfying than it had any right to be.
Notes// kish goin a lil more all out aw boi | Tagged// @awboisleepitimenextturn | WC// 906 | TWC// 4007
Post by Aegle Verdant on Oct 14, 2019 14:37:56 GMT -5
The elbow crunched into Aegle's face, and it couldn't have been more surprising if it had been a wet fish. The blow came as a shocking reminder that, though she was controlling Kishka's weapon by forcing her to in-fight, that in no way rendered the taller girl defenseless. As reminders went, few were more effective than the cartilage crunch of a blow to the nose. Yet, for Aegle, who was used to taking punches from the likes of Qiu'li and Doctor Haragatni, Kishka hitting her in the face did not hurt nearly as much as it should have. "Of course you're not a leader," Kishka hissed, glaring down with that insufferable air of superiority, that ill-concealed, unearned sense of entitlement, "You shouldn't even be here!" With a flick of her wrist, Kishka made something inside her batted aside umbrella click, "Best case scenario, you fuck up and get yourself killed." Aegle had just barely enough time to shove the weapon clear before it sprang open, filling the air with the sound of rattling steel-links. "Worst case scenario? You fuck up and get everyone around you killed too. You're a liability, not a Huntress." Yanking the umbrella back, even as its unfolding body drove Aegle onto her back heel, Kishka suddenly snapped her weapon closed and lunge after the crooked pugilist. Aegle, on some instinct, twitched her head to the side just before a line of fire was drawn across her cheek, just below her eye. She'd just barely enough time to blink in surprise before Kishka pulled back and plunged forth a second time, her aim adjusted remarkably quick to follow the smaller girl's movements.
Aegle was off balance, surprised by this sudden show of competence in close quarters, so counter to everything she'd thought to expect from Kishka. Turning aside the next stab, she once again found herself half a heartbeat too slow, felt the umbrella score a burning streak across her side. The parry came off sloppily, driving Aegle back another half step, then a half step more as Kishka described an arc at head level, missing Aegle's face by only a hand's breadth. The speed of each movement, the form behind them, and the surgeon's calm as each was executed, All these combined to tell Aegle she had fundamentally misjudged her opponent; Kishka was no where near as helpless in close quarters as she'd initially taken her for! She stumbled back, wrong footed, eyes wide, her smile grown strained and uncertain.
As if sensing Aegle's confusion and dawning revelation, Kishka showed the barest hint of a smile, stepped smoothly back, leveled the length of her weapon with Aegle's head, and filled the world with light and sound. Pain, intense as any Doc had inflicted upon her, staggered the boxer back. Her head was torn around, as if by the blow of a sledgehammer, and it took reserves of poise Aegle had not known she had for her to keep standing. A full third of her aura was blasted away, and her whole world was left ringing in the fall out, a blurry daze through a veil of sudden, surprised tears.
The taste of blood was in her mouth, her forehead wet and searing hot where the cannon shot had struck, her vision red and burning. Her legs tried to buckle beneath the blow, her hands briefly twitched down as all the strength bled from her arms, to bleed out down her rapidly reddening face. Every part of her screamed for flight, that she should flee as quick as her crooked legs could carry her. Confused and disoriented, not to mention surprised by Kishka's apparent aptitude for close quarters combat, the only possible recourse could be to get away, to evade and hide. She sucked in a pained gasp, comically belated, half turned to run with one arm half raised to shield her bloodied face. Yet something happened then, in the half a heartbeat before she took the first step away from her opponent. Something not unlike the sudden surge of defiance she'd felt when fighting the Boarbatusk, nor the determined fury from sparring with Doc. A steeling of her nerves, stretched taut by her surprise at Kishka's demonstrable fighting ability.
Conserving her momentum, Aegle transmuted her half turn into a fade. She wove around, pivoting upon her hips, and smoothly changed direction, to throw herself right at Kishka. Just as the Burzanova had described an arc with her penultimate strike, so too did Aegle, a small spray or red mist trailing her rapid transition from giving up ground to back onto the offensive. Going low, Aegle chambered one fist and let fly with the other, leading a backhanded hook to bat aside Kishka's umbrella, before following up with a rising body blow into the taller girl's stomach. Her smile had turned savage in the intervening moments, her emerald eyes, streaked with red, seeming to blaze in her bloodied face. Something had clearly snapped inside the little pugilist, because she attacked with a ferocity she'd yet to show against any human opponent.
It had happened again, just the same as when she'd been fighting the boarbatusk. That sense of consequence, of choice; That she had control, and she mattered. That everything that happened from this moment onward was hers to determine, that, win or lose, she would do it swinging. "That's the joke~" She cackled, "There's nowhere I should be."
Wading in closer, Aegle's movements fed one into the next, her upward body shot masking a leading haymaker, which itself flowed into a fade and an uppercut. She attacked savagely, without pausing, without waiting to confirm a hit before she flowed into the next; The uppercut trailed by two quick jabs from her leading hand, then a hook from the tail, a switch up, into two more jabs from her offhand, now leading. "And that's the worst case for all of us; Not just me, but you as well!" her shrill giggling chased the barrage of blows, lilting up and down as she traded hand to hand, as she flowed between forms and punches, filling the air with the mirth of breaking glass. All the while, her wide eyed exhilaration, her bloodied excitement, burned bright across her bloodless face, seeming maggot white beneath the deep crimson which painted it. All the while, her wide grin flashed white on red, slashing her slashed face, showing too many bloody teeth. "I ain't strong," Aegle keened, eyes blazing with laughter, glittering with tears, and clouded by her own blood. 'Sixteen and Five,' "Ain't clever," Jabs into right hook, "Ain't quick," Right hook into left cross, "Ain't nothin'," Left cross into backhand, not even trying to defend herself now, doing naught but attack. Attacking like nothing else mattered. 'What really does, after all?' "I'm shit, and I know it." backhand into jabs, into hook, into uppercut, hammering away. Hammering. Hammering like the pounding of her heart, roaring like the roaring in her ears. "I ain't special," She screamed, joyous, rapturous, loading back a haymaker as her eyes blazed emerald bright, green flames in a burnt out face... She twisted with the haymaker, put every muscle and motor, every servo and sinew, every gram of flesh and kilogram of steel; Every part of her behind that punch, a punch aimed right for Kishka's chin, as though nothing else in the world mattered. She let fly, a knockout punch, "And neither are you!" words - 1,240 total - 4,777
Post by Kishka Burzanova on Oct 15, 2019 3:54:26 GMT -5
KISHKA BURZANOVA
It was the elbow to the face that tipped her off, moments after she'd launched it.
It shouldn't have crunched that way.
Aura didn't feel like that. She realized in that moment, that her opponent wasn't just a worthless excuse for a leader- she was either grossly incompetent, or... Well, she was fucking deranged. Unhinged. Nobody fought like that. Nobody. Because it was crazy. It was literally insane. And she was angry about it. Part of her wanted to outright refuse to finish the fight, now that she knew what the little bitch was doing. It was twisted and batshit crazy. Further proof that there was something severely, seriously, wrong with the girl. But her body had already committed to the blow. She followed through, and when she caught Aegle on her back heels, she still delivered that same flurry of blows, but she wasn't enjoying it nearly as much now. Not even as she bloodied and battered the stupid, stupid, girl.
Wasn't this what she'd wanted?
Revenge? To beat Aegle down for fucking her over in the draft?
Not like this. Not this way. It felt cheap. She wouldn't have cared if Aegle had suddenly unlocked her semblance and used it to catch her weapon, turning it against her, and winning the fight. She wouldn't have cared if Aegle had gone down like a limp fish, aura shattered, like it was supposed to.
She didn't even notice at first that her cannonball to Aegle's head had bloodied the foolish girl, because in that moment, her fury was white hot. But as she kept beating the girl down, her eyes shot over to where the Red Class faculty member was supposedly supervising this fight, giving him questioning stares between blows. Was Van Sange fucking blind? Aegle was injured. She shouldn't be allowed to carry on! But that wasn't stopping Kishka from tearing into her with everything she had.
But she was taking Kishka's full-strength attacks without her Aura. And it did nothing but stoke the flames white hot. At first, her strikes were meant to simply bring the girl down. But they grew increasingly frantic, as she refused to go down to even her hardest blows. On the outside, however, each was delivered with swiftness and precision she'd been holding in reserve for Vytal. She'd spent the past few months fighting left-handed, so to speak, just to wave off any attempts to counter her unique melee fighting style. It felt bad wasting her trump card on such a pointless fight against such a useless opponent, but she was mad, and she was making a point.
All you can do is fight in melee range. I can destroy you in any way I please, and I'm better than you at the only thing you have.
Images flashed through her mind.
She didn't see Aegle anymore- where there once was a short, pale, bald girl, there now stood a girl nearly identical to Kishka, but for her long white hair, falling like snow down her back, smirking down at her, in spite of being the same height.
Something in her cracked.
She was thinking like Bel. What she thought about Aegle... That was what Bel thought about her. Everything she'd said to Aegle, she'd been told by her sister. For a moment, a split fraction of a second in time, she felt guilty for saying what she did, for thinking what she did. Because it wasn't Aegle's fault that she was weaker than Kishka. It wasn't her fault that she wasn't strong enough.
It wasn't her fault she was weaker than Bel.
Kishka.
Wait.
Fuck.
The distraction halted her just long enough for the length of their fight to kick in. Her weapon felt heavier, and she could feel her aura thinning as the stress of maintaining it for this long started to wear on her. And Bel- no, Aegle- was on the offensive now. Her umbrella gave way easily, midswing, and she coughed as Aegle's hit threw the wind out of her. But Aegle didn't let up. She grit her teeth as the shorter girl laughed again, saying some dumb shit that Kishka could hardly hear through the whirling in her head, the anger and the weariness.
Another punch flew at Kishka, and to her credit, she ducked past it, but that was getting harder and harder. Fuck, she was tired. But how had Aegle survived that onslaught? That would have been enough to bludgeon a goddamn Beowolf Alpha down, but here Aegle was, still fucking standing. Somehow, some way, she was still standing.
A flurry of punches shot at her, and she was having trouble keeping up; where the hell had this Kid been hiding!? She caught the uppercut to the gut, and narrowly avoided the two jabs that followed. Her aura was dropping fast, and what was worse, Aegle, for the first time in their fight, had her on the backs of her heels, losing ground.
She was losing ground to Aegle Verdant.
Somewhere, off in Vale, Bel was sneering. Laughing. Mocking her. "Shut up!" It was half-growled, a vicious snarl, as she attempted vainly to parry Aegle's punches with her umbrella. The girl was the one mocking her, not Bel. It was Aegle. Her words... Talking down to Kishka, like she had any business to be. Like she was better.
"I ain't strong.
No, she wasn't. And she shouldn't have been able to stand on even ground, let alone, back the purple-haired girl into a corner. She was weak. She was pathetic. She was untrained, she was worthless, she was useless, she was weak, she was weak, she was weak! She was nothing! Nothing! Always the second child, never the favorite, always the villain, never the hero, always second best, always looked down on, always pitied, hated, spat on...
Ain't clever.
She wasn't. Kishka was a strategist. A tactician. Aegle was denser than pound cake, and about as quick on her feet as one. So how was she hanging in this? That aura trick she was doing, that was something Kishka had never anticipated, and why should she have? She had doubted Aegle completely. Underestimated her so grossly that now, she could hardly stop the inevitable end, and yet she clung on, fighting, grasping at straws. She dodged another punch, but barely- it caught her on the shoulder, throwing her balance, as she stumbled back.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" She didn't know when her eyes had gotten teary, but she knew that even streaked with tears, they were vivid violet storms, violent and volatile, vicious and void of any hint of mercy, nor of respect. This wasn't a fight, it was a shitshow.
A genius.
That was what she was. It's what she knew she was. It was all she could claim she was, compared to her. But she hadn't foreseen this. She'd been too blind, too cocky. Her pride was her downfall. What could was the most clever brain at Haven, if it couldn't accurately gauge Aegle's skills?
Ain't quick.
And yet, Kishka was slowing down. She was slow enough now for Aegle to easily make up the difference.
She could have beaten her earlier. Bludgeoned her down with her cannon from a distance, before she'd cleared the gap to the armchair. Hell, if she'd taken enough care to aim the damn thing, the armchair would have been enough to throw her down, and give Kishka enough time and space to outmaneuver her pitiful attempts at fighting back.
What had she done instead? She went for humiliating Aegle, but what she didn't think of, what she never could have thought of, was that Aegle was beyond humiliation- the girl had been through enough that nothing Kishka could have done to her would have come as a surprise. Nothing would have made her look good, in the end. This matchup was doomed from the start- she had nothing to gain but hollow vengeance, and she'd butchered that too.
She was a failure. Like Bel had always told her.
Couldn't even beat the worst student at Haven in a fight.
At a one-on-one duel. The thing she excelled at. Her thing. Not Aegle's.
Ain't nothin.
Stop. Stop it. The punches were coming at her, but she didn't feel them. Her glare was leveled on Aegle, and her eyes were wild with fury. Stop it. Her lips quivered, and she knew she looked awful, tears trailing down her face as she fought to regain some semblance of her dignity. Beaten back by Aegle... She felt her aura flex.
This was a joke. It wasn't funny.
I'm shit and I know it. I ain't special.
The Kid was screaming at her, her voice a creaking shrill cry over the din of thoughts rushing through her mind. She lashed out with her umbrella, but found herself too weak now to land the blow- she just didn't have the stamina for a prolonged fight like this. But how did Aegle...?
Lucky 13 bounced carelessly off of Aegle's fist, flung far against the outer walls of the arena, out of her reach. She didn't even have the aura left to use her semblance. Not that it would have done her much good. She'd lost the fight the moment she decided to let Aegle into melee range, uninjured. The moment she arrogantly gave her a free shot. The moment she waited to punch Aegle, instead of immediately opening her umbrella and gaining distance.
The moment Aegle touched a nerve.
She didn't hate Aegle because the girl had taken her away from her ideal Class, away from her friends, from Argent. She hated her because she was everything Kishka was, and she was unrepentant about it. She was all of the things Kishka hated most about herself, all the things her sister had told her. All the things she lay in bed, thinking about until the sun was up, and she could no longer stay awake.
And neither a-
"You're wrong!" It was a shrill shriek, piercing and hoarse, her voice cracking halfway through the word, interrupting what she already knew Aegle was building up to.
Kishka was special.
She had to be. She had worked so hard to be. Aegle didn't know her. Didn't know what she'd been through, how hard it was living up to the expectations she had before her. Aegle was a stupid child who didn't belong. She'd be better off anywhere else.
And Kishka was brutally reminded that these thoughts weren't her own. These were Bel's thoughts, recycled and repurposed. The fist flew hard and true, catching her square on the chin.
If she hadn't had an inch of her Aura left, she'd have been knocked cold, easily. It was a solid punch, delivered well, and with all of Aegle's strength. She had no means of countering it, and was too tired to dodge it. She went down like a limp sack of potatoes, hitting the ground roughly, right as a glow of deep black emanating from her body briefly, before shattering with a crackling sound, like distant lightning.
Aegle had won.
She lay on the ground for a moment. Aegle had won. She wouldn't accept it. Couldn't accept it. It wasn't real. Somehow, some way, Kishka managed to pull herself up from the ground, her knees quaking, and her hands shivering. Her eyes were filled with the most intense, burning, anger she was capable of feeling, and seemed to be the only part of her that was truly still fully awake and capable of processing the world, the arena, the girl standing before her. Still standing.
"I hate you." Quietly, but no less biting, was her tone. "I. Hate you." She repeated herself, but one could question whether she was even talking to Aegle at all- she was staring right at her, eyes fixed into a glare, but she wasn't looking at Aegle, didn't see the shorter girl standing not three feet away. "I hate you." Her mantra, the only thought in her head, as she felt her legs moving, against their will, sloppily and half-stumbling forward. "Quit laughing at me!" She screamed, her voice cracking and as composed as the rest of her, as she barreled at Aegle. She didn't even know if the kid was actually still laughing- didn't care.
It wasn't just her laughter she heard.
"You don't know me! You're not better than me!" She couldn't see past the tears, as she threw her fist at Aegle's head with all of her strength. It wasn't much, frankly- she was tired, and had no aura left. If the fight's arbiter had been more proactive, maybe he would have noticed that, and stepped in already, but she was half-glad he hadn't- she wasn't finished yet. With no idea whether her punch had landed or not, she would throw one after the other, each weaker than the last, as she kept howling the last line she'd said- you're not better than me.
She couldn't be.
She wasn't.
They were twins, for fuck's sake. They were the same.
If Aegle chose to fight back, Kishka wouldn't be too hard to knock back down, and after the second or third time, she might even stay down. But if she chose to wait out the frankly pitiful display of poor sportsmanship Kishka was showing off, then eventually she would lose her balance, and she would drop to her knees, still trying to swing at Aegle, a sobbing, wretched, mess on the ground, her screams long reverted to muttering on the ground, those same words.
She felt worthless. She felt weak.
Had it been worth it? No. It wasn't.
As she lay there, sobbing into the ground, she managed to stare back up at Aegle. "You shouldn't be standing. It's not fair... It's not fair... You're not better than me... Stop mocking me. Stop it. Just- just shut up..."
She didn't care if Aegle had anything else to say. She was done with this stupid fight. She'd made a complete fool out of herself, and she regretted everything. Eventually, Van Sange's lazy ass made his way over and got her out of the ring, if she was injured. If not, then she'd lay there until Argent made his way over from his fight to come find her, pitiful and broken, washed in equal parts bitter, angry, defeat, and crushing self-loathing. She had said everything she had to say to Aegle, and talking hurt too much for her to continue.
All her talk, and she lost. To Aegle.
She just wanted to dig a deep hole, lay down, and die in it.
Notes// holy fuck this was fun to write | Tagged// @angst | WC// 2446 | TWC// 6453
Post by Aegle Verdant on Oct 20, 2019 0:04:21 GMT -5
"You're wrong!" Kishka shrieked, but it was too late; Aegle's final punch took her square on the chin. There was a quiet click as her knuckles made contact, more felt than heard, like the brittle grinding of glass under heel, quickly followed by a sense of give that couldn't have come from punching aura. Kishka's head whipped back, flicked away by Aegle's outstretched hand, as a shell of ebon glass formed around her face, then flashed to fractured dust as she flopped down at the crooked girl's feet. With that final crackling of Kishka's aura, like the roll of distant thunder, Aegle had won. She stood over her erstwhile foe, now her conquest, and waited; Waited for the triumph, the satisfaction of her victory, to wash over her, the way Aaron had always talked about. She waited to start feeling good, if not about what she'd done, then at least for having bested Kishka and proven herself the better fighter. It didn't feel good though, not the way the fighting had. Like Carmim and Ryan, like the ursa and the boarbatusk, like how she'd felt when she'd beaten Nasrin...
Aegle did not like how winning made her feel.
The moment stretched out. Distorting and elongating, like something far away viewed from high above. Like Aegle was standing on the edge of the tallest tower in Atlas, looking straight down to the street far below. She felt strange, almost dizzy, like she really was stood before some fathomless drop. Her palms and the soles of her feet itched, and her whole arm shook as she lowered it back down to her side. She felt sick, of body and spirit, as she looked down at Kishka, where comprehension of what had just happened was only just starting to form upon the older girl's face. And with it, as her comprehension grew, there came disbelief and denial. A shifting, An unlevelling, took place before Aegle's eyes, played across Kishka's swarthy features like the grotesque, exaggerated expressions in some pulpy drama. Aegle could feel that sense of shock, could almost feel the painful wrenching as Kishka's world was forced into a shape she could not bear. It didn't feel good, to be the source of that pain, to have caused it. 'That's right,' Aegle thought, trying to will some malice forward, needing something as bulwark against her own guilt, now that her excitement was ebbing away, 'If I'm so pathetic, then what does that make you?' But her heart wasn't in it. Try as she might to make this victory sweet, it remained as ashes on her tongue. It was the coldest, bitterest sort of revenge that Aegle had ever served up, and it tasted just like it.
Aegle learned something important about herself then, as she so often seemed to do whenever she fought. She learned that, for all she had hated what Kishka had done to her, in spreading the tale of her cowardice at the walls, in acting like she'd been doing Aegle a favor which she ought have been grateful for, Aegle did not hate Kishka. Moreover, she did not even dislike her enough that hurting her could bring more than the most fleeting pleasure, a pleasure Aegle had already felt and regretted at the draft, a pleasure she did not feel now. Because Aegle understood that she hadn't merely beaten Kishka, hadn't merely turned her arrogance against her, nor made her pay for her over confidence... Aegle had hurt Kishka; She could see it on her face, in her eyes. Having forced her to accept a reality which she would never have chosen for herself, she'd hurt her in a way which Aegle had so often been hurt herself. 'Disappointin', ain't it, learnin' that bad things can happen to you?'
As though she'd heard Aegle's thoughts, Kishka's lips peeled back from her teeth, exposing a virulent snarl of bitterness and resentment. "I hate you." She whispered. Aegle's fingers twitched at her sides, her faded smile vanished entirely. 'I hate myself.' "I hate you." Kishka said again, and again. Repeating the words with savage, self pitying fervor. She struggled up and Aegle stepped back, and all the while Kishka repeated those three words.
No one had ever told Aegle they hated her before. Before coming to Haven, Aegle had never done anything worth being hated over. Now she supposed she'd done two things worthy of Kishka's hatred. "Quit laughing at me!" Kishka shrieked. 'It ain't you I'm laughin' at.' Aegle thought, not laughing at all, 'It ain't you I find so funny.' "You don't know me!" Kishka ranted, and Aegle saw there were tears in her eyes, "You're not better than me!" Something in the taller girl's voice, in her tone, made Aegle step forward and reach a hand up towards her, though what she could have possibly hoped to do with that hand, the crooked girl didn't know. She never found out either, because Kishka immediate flung herself forward, punching Aegle across the face. It was a soft blow, so far as blows to the face could be soft, but it still snapped Aegle's head around and drove her back half a step. It was such a shocking experience, as punches to the face so often were, made doubly more so by how little Aegle had expected it, and how much she had deserved it.
Kishka threw another punch, but Aegle turned it aside with her forearm, then did the same for the next. The older girl kept coming however, staggering forward on legs made of rubber, telegraphing every punch a year in advance. Too tired to go on fighting, too hurt, and yet continuing to fight all the same. 'Is this how Nasrin felt, fightin' me?' Aegle wondered, with sudden empathy and guilt, as she turned another of Kishka's punches, knowing she had no aura left and not wanting to answer with one of her own. Not wanting to hurt her, to kick her while she was down. 'Is this what fightin' me feels like in general?' It was getting easier to block the punches, easier still to get out of the way. Kishka, half blind with tears, half dead on her feet, over extended herself more and more with each punch she threw. 'If this is what fightin' me feels like, how must losin' to me feel?' Aegle stepped aside of a woeful lunge, as easily as if she were stepping through a door, and Kishka stumbled on by. She tried to turn, but her legs buckled beneath her, and the Burzanova sprawled down to earth instead. There she lay, head bowed, shoulders shaking, as desperate sounding sobs wracked out of her mouth in ugly wet lungfuls.
Aegle looked down at her, aware that she was trembling, that her own breath was catching tightly in her too-tight throat. Aware she was responsible for this, that she had done this to Kishka. Aware she was to blame. Aware that, as always, she'd made things worse. "You shouldn't be standing." Kishka hacked out between sobs. 'I can't stand.' Aegle thought. "It's not fair..." said the older girl, old enough to know better. 'Life's not fair' thought the younger girl, with sense enough not to say it out loud. "You're not better than me. Stop mocking me. Stop it. Just shut up..." Aegle stared down at Kishka, her own eyes bright and wet, her expression stricken. Then, little by little, Aegle's narrow jaw hardened, her emerald eyes blinked back her tears. She clenched her fists, swallowed, and smeared back the blood from her own cheek. "You're right," Aegle said simply, after a long moment's consideration, "I ain't any better 'n you." Turning on her heels, the crooked, crippled, cowardly girl limped out of the arena, "Try actin' like it next time." words - 1,308 total - 6,085