Handyman

[Onyx Featherstone]

She watched him take his stance and hers shifted to the balls of her feet as he tensed and then took a step she dove away from him, avoiding him widely, her blade coming from it's sheath. Onyx twisted the knife in her grasp so it was in the ready position. Her gaze narrowed, the adrenaline was running through her, that sweet high that caused her body to sing with pleasure made her shiver. She wanted this if only for the fact that she would get the satisfaction of getting her next high from it. That annoying buzz in her body would leave and the sweet rush would claim her.

A quick step toward Eli's side as Onyx lifted the blade in a quick flicking motion, a small cut was all she was aiming for, just on his right bicep. The flush of excitement stained her cheeks a beautiful pink and her eyes flash with the thrill of the fight. She loved fighting, sparring mostly. She just wanted the thrill without having to kill. But this Dragon she would have no problems hurting, even if she didn't feel like killing him. She just wanted to show him that he shouldn't mess with her. That she should be feared just as much.

"It's dishonorable to fight someone who is not armed," she said, her voice chastising. "Why are you so interested in fighting me anyway?" Her voice was breathy and heated, the adrenaline clearly showing and affecting her. It was the kind of voice one might have when committing lustful acts, but she didn't notice, all she noticed was the next step he was to take. And perhaps some part of her noticed the way his skin glowed underneath the sun's rays and how she enjoyed it. He was a beautiful man, she just didn't notice things like that immediately. Her eyes lazily flicked up and down his form, oblivious to his presence for a single second.

Words: 333
Muse: GREAT
Song: N/A

[Eli]

Seeing her once again use the graceful movements to avoid the initial lunge Eli had to think on his toes. His instincts told him to use a rolling motion to dodge the flicking blade and counter with a hard right hook, it it landed he could then move on to create a fluid motion of rapid hooks, the acceleration added to each punch from his body rolls would probably be enough to knock out the most stoic opponent. However Eli couldn't. It was really starting to frustrate him now, evident by his feral grunts and displays of anger as he went red in the face with rage at his own inability to defeat one cocky woman.

Elijah noticed the blade moved more with speed than intent to inflict a serious wound, which was good because he couldn't dodge it anyway. The metal sliced through his vest top with ease, the tip catching against the side of his bicep and rolling onto his pectoral, creating a neat cut along the definition in his breast. He didn't wince with the pain of the blow, it was a scratch, though the blood immediately began to show on his off white clothing, already wet with sweat.

Using the moments after the blow he lowered his body as if losing his balance, dipping down to a crouch. From this position he waited, hearing her words echo through the back of his mind. If she didn't shut up soon he'd have a headache. Using the moment to recharge his knees he piled his torso forward, his head shooting up for a viciously attempted head-butt, though as he rose he remembered his lack of intent to hurt her. Immediately he tried to restrain his momentum, leaving him off guard and vulnerable to a certain degree. He began to twist his neck, if for nothing other than to keep his head. Instead now he was trying to make his attack a body slam, using his weight to throw her backward and then attempt another lunge to close the distance and begin his flurry again was the only tactic he could come up with after making a blunder like that.

"Why do I need a reason? I'm your enemy, that's all you need to know to have a reason to fight." He was restraining himself from letting her know he wasn't serious in this match-up. It was imperative to him that he maintain at least some of his sanity. She really was starting to grate on his nerves, why couldn't she just fight? Why did she need a reason to fight? Wasn't it fun? Eli had always thought of fighting to be a requirement to survive, the fact that he enjoyed it was a bonus. And from her smirk she displayed he could tell she was just the same, so why was she so pedantic about the whole thing? Eli reminded himself yet again that women are certainly difficult creatures.

[Onyx Featherstone]

She felt a delicious shudder rack her spine as her blade sliced through his flesh. The sharp scent of blood hit her nose and her head went dizzy with pleasure. It was almost as good as a hunt, almost like feeling the earth beneath her paws and smelling the stench of fear on the wind. But this, this took actual thinking, when hunts usually just took muscle memory from Onyx. The smell of blood was still as familiar as an old friend, embracing her in a warmth that she recognized as one of the few constants in her life.

The body slam caught her off guard as did his words, combine the two and she stumbled to hit the ground. Her eyes looked incredulously at him as she sat splayed upon the ground, "I never called you an enemy. If I thought you an enemy you would have been dead long ago." There was no arrogance in her words, merely cold hard facts. "Where did you get the idea you were an enemy of mine? I no longer have any true enemies." She shook her head and didn't seem to realize she was on the ground, though her hands were dug into the dusty earth.

Her dagger was still firmly clutched in her hand, pressed into the dirt. Was she searching in the wrong place? Perhaps this man could not be an ally. Though he seemed strong and powerful his mind seemed fractured, for what little she had seen of it. She didn't need those of crazed mind frames hanging around her, she had enough problems already with her constant search for adrenaline rushes. She needed some who were of sound mind, and yet here she was seeking out this man's company. She was kind of enjoying it too. Whether she wanted to or not, she found this man attractive both in personality and body, but she had no intention of seeing him again. So what did it matter.

Words: 333
Muse: GREAT
Song: N/A

[Eli]

Eli twisted his tongue and slid it against the roof of his mouth, his saliva building up infront of his teeth. He cocked his face to the side and spat hard on the ground, the globule of translucent liquid landing a few feet away from him. The clouds were starting to roam over the wastelands, soon the sun would be covered and the stifling heat that enshrouded that place would fade. The problem with that was that it would turn deathly cold once nights grimace engulfed them. Knocking her out could be dangerous, realizing she might freeze to death had him a little worried.

Again he contradicted himself, he was a soldier, giving a damn about some vagabond who had been exiled wasn't something he had the right to do. He looked over to her again, listening to her words, and again finding himself lost in the contrived facts she stated. She didn't have an enemy? She didn't deem him a foe?

Eli didn't know whether to be angry or happy about it. She was a painful existence, the definition of what he was trying to wipe off the face of that world. He should have been glad to see someone like her, a being that was idling in that war-zone without the need for the comforts of combat. Eli envied her. No. Envy was the wrong term, he despised her but couldn't tear himself away. Why should there be a need to fight? Who decided upon this conflict? If she didn't see him as an enemy could he just walk away?

The contemplation to holster his weapon and turn his back was strong. But surely his method was quicker. Why avoid the fight and sit by as many suffer when you could simply force the battles to a climax and ride out the evils until there was a clear victor. Ignoring it seemed much worse to him.

"You're a fool then." The words were somewhat mumbled, filled with a bitterness that seemed odd for Elijah to have. "Whether you are a human, a shifter, or a cockroach. It's all the same. We're slaves to this era, there is a war. And all wars need soldiers." He spoke as if he was in denial, though the fact of the matter was that it had been beaten into him for as long as he could remember. "You should stand up." He took a step back and lowered himself so that he could perform another powerful dash. He had a plan on how to end this meaningless confrontation.

[Onyx Featherstone]

She didn't stand she just sat there and stared at him. Sure she loved to fight but the war seemed so pointless anymore. Onyx didn't exactly like the Dragons, but she didn't see them as evil. She saw the Griffin's as her family, that much was true, but that didn't mean she followed them blindly. She wouldn't just attack others without a reason. Angrily she shook her head at his words and responded with her own, "I don't believe that we are all slaves to this war. That means that we have no will of our own, that we can't think for ourselves. We all have the ability to stop fighting if we wish to, most just don't want to."

She stared at him with a determined expression and moved into a sitting position, crossing her arms across her chest. There was no way she would believe what he was trying to tell her, because she knew even when she was part of her family that she had her own mind. She controlled who she decided to fight or not fight. Frustration with this man was flowing strongly through her.

"Let me ask you question, why do you fight?" Onyx asked. She believed that all fights usually had a reason, or at least should. So why did Eli fight? It was a wonder if he would even have an answer. A press of her fingers in the dirt relaxed her, reminding her that she wasn't alone. The Earth was always with her. She breathed deeply and noticed the sky darkening. Glancing up, she noticed clouds covering the sun, a chill of wind pressed up against her. She shivered as the breeze brushed passed her and grew annoyed. She wasn't done talking to Eli yet.

Words: 306
Muse: Ok
Song: ET -Katy Perry

[Eli]

A pause hung around Eli, the air felt like it stiffened, stifling his movements. Even on the ground she took a defiant pose, what a woman Eli thought to himself. She just wasn't going to see things his way no matter how much he tried to persuade her, that was clear. If he told her to stand, she sat. If he told her to fight, she would turn her blade away. It was hardly fair in his mind that she always have her way. It infuriated him. It dragged on his nerves and scratched away at his patience. If she wouldn't give herself to combat then why didn't he just leave? Was her presence that addictive for him that he couldn't simply ignore her? He turned his side to her, focusing his attention on an ominous cloud formation to calm himself down.

Of course he did not enjoy the fighting, that's what he told himself every day. It was a lie of course, it was all he knew, it was the only purpose he had found in that world that he could cling to. It was his only way to justify himself, the be all and end all of his existence. And she put it down so simply that it made him seem almost pathetic. Why did he fight? He had no choice. If he chose to put his weapon away then how could he protect himself? Better to strike the enemy first and take comfort in the fact that there's one less person to kill you than let yourself be vulnerable. He searched his mind for an answer she would approve of, as though her opinion of him held some significance.

Unknowingly she had began to crack his determination to avoid her, he didn't like the fact that she wouldn't fight, but he had no control over it. He placed his hand against the small of his back to balance himself and stretched his spine, working out the kinks that came from his excessive bending during his battle stance.

"A rolling stone grows no moss." He laughed, using a phrase like that really didn't explain it at all did it? "If everyone put away their blades then this war would end, but then the moment someone steps out of line it would only begin again. Peace is fragile. People are fragile." He was being honest with her, to him there was very little difference between the calm before the storm and the storm itself. His adopted father had taught him how to fight and win, but not what he should be fighting for. It was something that crept up on him quickly through the years of bloodshed. "I would rather see the conflict end completely than spend days of 'peace' worrying about when it will all kick off again." He turned his face to her again, waiting to see her reaction, wondering if any of it made sense to her. "Do you not have anything worth fighting for?"