Post by Sadie on Mar 30, 2010 10:22:56 GMT -5
(ahaha what is with that title I FAIL)
Alright, alright. I'll admit it.
This story has no real purpose.
To be honest, I really just had the craving to write a fight scene. So this is a fight scene between Etoile and Divad ('cause they're awesome). It was fun to write, although I feel like I could have done better. But I really don't have time to mess with it; maybe I'll try another fight scene after the application.
Anyway, enjoy!
--
Dim and quiet, the locker room was empty save for a single soul that lingered on the bench, slumped over so that even he was barely noticeable among the spacious rows. Blue, warm optics drilled holes into the floor, almost nervously, listening to the sounds above and waiting for the ones that would call him to action. Until then, he remained in the quiet, left to experience the anticipation that was crawling over his spine.
The noises from above were not helping his nerves; there was cheering and then sounds of surprise alternatively, followed by long groans as particularly sickening thuds crashed on the ground above. He had not bothered to check who was already fighting, but it was clear that one of them was getting a cruel beating, and he couldn’t help but worry that he would soon take the poor soul’s place on the receiving end of the fists.
A quiet presence entered on the other side of the room, and the figure didn’t notice it at first, not until the entering form made a small noise to alert him to their arrival. Turning around quickly, as though expecting that something intimidating had come out of the shadows, there was a moment’s pause before a smile suddenly curved on his lips and he leaped to his feet. “What are you doing here?”
Soft white light gently cast on the newcomer’s features, lighting up the golden eyes and setting the smooth grey skin with shadows. Her thin arms snaked out to wrap around him, and they tightly embraced, the girl not bothering to attempt an answer at the moment as more pressing concerns weighed on them both. Shifting through the thick crimson curls to brush them away from the worried blue eyes, she gave the male a questioning look.
“I’ll be fine,” he promised, touching his nose to hers, blue lenses exploring the golden depths in front of him. “It’s just training, I should be able to handle it.” Scarlet fingertips trailed on the back of her upper arms, lightly, distracted as she pulled out a smaller notebook and rapidly scrawled a note for him, one that made a light laughter bubbled out of his throat.
Kick his butt, okay? He could almost read his girlfriend’s arrogant aura in the written words, and they made him smile even wider.
“For sure.” Even in the low light, he was able to find his girlfriend’s lips, and he captured them eagerly for a few seconds, a thrill running through him when she responded just as enthusiastically. Perhaps it was the looming presence of the approaching event that the boy was going to take place in that poured heat into their motions, like the smoldering of hot lava beneath a calm and peaceful surface.
It wasn’t long before they were interrupted, however, as suddenly the door flew open behind the girl, and the two jumped apart and turned to the entering presence, their cheeks flushing a little, although their expressions were serious when they realized who had entered into the locker room, his frame large and crowding the ceiling that hung a little too low.
Hooded eyes flashed with amusement at the female, glancing between the Telarian and the Chiz and choosing not to say anything. But he didn’t need to; the girl quickly collected her notebook, brushed her lips against her boyfriend’s cheek once more, and silently left the room, leaving Etoile standing alone against the larger mass that he was presented with. His hands dug into the pockets of his shorts as he greeted the newcomer coolly, much more calmly than his insides felt. “Divad.”
“Ganmade.” Divad rarely used his first name. “How’s it going?”
“Alright. . .” Carefully removing the towel from his shoulders, leaving his chest completely bare and vulnerable, Etoile hung it in a locker and then faced Divad once more, lifting his chin to stare at the male with a cool blue gaze. “How about you?”
“Good.” Lazily, as though he belonged there, Divad took a seat on one of the long benches. “Excited for our match. It’s been a while since we’ve fought in casual combat.”
“Yeah. It should be interesting.” His eyebrows lifted a little, a silent question to the other participant in their strange discussion. This was Sector SUN’s locker room, and he was rather curious as to why Divad had decided that his presence was necessary before their match. If he was trying to unnerve the Telarian, it wasn’t working; Etoile was simply perplexed.
A sigh seemed to pass through Divad’s frame, and he gestured to the bench in front of him with a large hand. Although hesitant, Etoile was obedient, and sat to face the male calmly, waiting for him to start the conversation that he had apparently come here for.
“We can talk, man-to-man?” The question came suddenly, startling them out of their silence.
A pause, but Etoile’s voice was sure when he answered. “Of course.”
“Good.” Stretching a little, nonchalantly, Divad sat back and looked at him squarely, suddenly launching into the discussion that sounded almost prepared. “Look, I know this was a long time ago. But I feel like I need to ask you anyway. You know that I wasn’t a part of the whole. . . thing, right? She lied to me, too.”
That didn’t stop it from hurting. “Yeah, I know.”
“She told me that you had broken up with her. . . the same lies she had been feeding everyone else, and I believed her. I didn’t go into that with the intention of doing you wrong.”
Lips parted, purple tongue preparing to speak, but Divad wouldn’t let him, continuing onward.
“I just want us to be cool. I never really had any problems with you, and I don’t have any now, and if you still felt-“
“I don’t.”
The abrupt interruption startled Divad into silence, allowing Etoile to talk quietly, a faint, faint smile on his lips.
“It’s like you said. That was a long time ago. I’ve long moved past any bitterness towards you or her.” A light shrug punctuated his shoulders. “It’s not a big deal.”
“You seem happier,” Divad added offhandedly, a simple observation that he had made as time had passed. “Your girlfriend is really cute.”
The dangerous, flashing look in the Telarian’s blue eyes shut him up immediately.
“Alright, alright, sorry, just saying.” He extended a hand, full of thick fingers, and Etoile gazed at it for a few long moments, considering. “We’re good?”
Suddenly, a pale yellow palm was grasping the larger one, and they shook firmly. “We’re good,” Etoile confirmed quietly, and then suddenly his mouth pulled into a smirk. “But I’m still going to kick your butt in the training ring.”
Divad laughed, a deep, hoarse sound in his throat. “Alright, Ganmade, we’ll see! We’re up soon, and then you can put your fists where your mouth is.” With a lazy wave and a grin still present on his expression, the boy stalked out of the locker room, and Etoile welcomed the silence of the room with a calm expression. Somehow, he was no longer nervous about the fight; rather, he was almost looking forward to it.
The minutes ticked by, but somehow his mind didn’t seem to register the seconds that flew by. Standing, his thoughts were a series of focused distractions, painting slow pictures for his mind’s eye. Muscles, stretching along the lines of his bare arms as he lifted them into the air and curved them behind his inclined head. Heart rate, slow and rhythmic in the quiet of the room, each echoing in different parts of his chest. Lungs, expanding and contracting with each of his silent breaths that chilled his insides. Irises, sweeping over his surroundings and finally settling on the ceiling as another loud burst of noises came from above.
And then it was finally time.
A bell sounded, signaling the start of the next training match, and the boy loped toward the door lazily, waiting for it to open. Blinking automatic lights would tell him when the movement would actually begin, since both participants were made equal by forcing them to wait for both doors to slide open at the same time on opposite sides of the ring. When the shift finally began, Etoile watched it slide upward, upward, light gradually spilling in and filling the room.
A bit of static buzzed and the ring seemed to morph; what was once a grassy plain had now become a mountainous terrain, with dirt and rocks scattered about. But Etoile barely had any time to register the scenery before his eyes found the form on the other side that was already striding forward, and he did the same, edging onto the field with his eyes locked on the approaching form.
He had battled with Divad before, and he could guess how the male would start. A calm appearance, followed by a sudden outburst of movement that was supposed to catch him off guard. Scarlet-tipped fingers twitched a little, eager to let loose the energy that was pooling into the ends, but he held it back. Letting his opponent make the first move was usually a better option for him.
It was as he had predicted. Divad’s steady walking suddenly tore into motion as the teen exploded with dark fur, letting it rip across his skin while his body contorted and morphed until a snarling wolf, almost double the original size of the teen, was advancing toward him in leaps and bounds. Etoile barely had time to throw up a shield before the massive paw smacked him aside, throwing his body many long yards along the field where it hit the dirt and rolled.
Up in the stands, a collective groan seemed to pass among those who had gathered to watch, particularly in a certain section full of intense viewers and a specific green-haired girl, whose expression furrowed a little. “Come on, Etoile!” she shouted to her brother, her robust voice echoing across the field. “Pound him into the ground!”
On his feet in seconds, the pale yellow male crouched down and waited as the wolf-creature galloped at him once more, tearing across the surface of the dirt and making for him eagerly like a predator that had tasted blood. This time, he was met with a thicker red shield, one that deflected his attack and made him snort a little, unhappily.
A guttural sound growled in his throat, and Etoile could almost hear the annoyance in it. But he only grinned from behind the scarlet barrier and then pulled back his arm, throwing a force through at Divad and hurling it into the wolf-creature’s shoulder. Little good his fist did, though; Divad staggered back on his four legs, but then a snarl ripped again and the intent to attack flashed in the lit lenses of the narrowed eyes.
Bounding forward to swat at him again, the wolfoid’s expression changed from smug to surprised as his paw met thin air; the Telarian had taken a spinning leap out of range and was now balanced on top of a nearby rock, crouched down and watching the wolf locate and glare at him as suddenly the creature morphed back into a teenager that didn’t look pleased. “What are you, Ganmade, a ballerina?!” he called upward, anger hinted in his tone.
“You’re funny,” Etoile called back, not bothering to straighten from his position as he eyed the teen warily. “Remind me to laugh next time!” Glancing around for a quick second, he noted a few rocks, smaller than the one he was perched on, and quickly wrapped a few thick bands of power around them before throwing them toward the sauntering teen who had to duck out of the way, barely missing them.
Fur rippled across his skin again, and the wolf-creature burst into action, tearing toward the rock and ramming into it with his shoulder, shaking the boy and sending him toppling toward the ground. A quick fist of telekinetic power stopped him before he hit the ground, but the moment of disorientation was enough for Divad to catch him in his teeth and send him flying across the field once more. His fingers curled around the loose dirt as he landed, staining the tips with a course brown.
Another unhappy noise ripped across the stands, and Tala winced a little when the boy’s lean body hit the ground and rolled to a stop, several seconds ticking by before he got up again. “Come on, Flashlight,” she hissed under her breath, looking a little tense although her body language was calm. “What the heck are you doing?” Next to her, a certain Chiz was in agreement, golden lenses not missing a single thing down on the field.
A few long leaps brought Divad across the field in seconds, and Etoile was once again forced to batter away his form with a hasty red barrier, causing another look of annoyance to cross Divad’s face. Suddenly the wolf-shape disappeared and an irritated face was only inches away from his, newly formed mouth spitting out words. “Hey Ganmade, when are you going to stop playing defense and actually fight me like a man?”
“You want me to fight offense?” Etoile returned calmly, his voice the same hushed tone that Divad was using.
“I want you to fight me.”
Suddenly, a small laughter pierced the frame of the male, shaking it a little. “You’re an idiot.”
“Excuse me?” The boy snarled a little, although the sound wasn’t quite as impressive when it wasn’t accompanied by a set of thick, sharp teeth and bristling fur.
“What are they doing?” Tala muttered from her seat, mostly to herself. Confusion was slowly infecting the audience, most of them wondering why the two fighters were having a discussion at close range on the battlefield.
But two pairs of eyes were burning into each other, completely unaware of the audience around them. “By allowing me to fight defense for this long,” Etoile smirked, his expression entirely nonchalant, “you’ve given me the chance to get to know my surroundings.” The other male made to interrupt him, but Etoile’s next words cut him off instantly. “In other words, I know how to win.”
Suddenly, a hand that had begun to glow discreetly behind him shot up into the air, gripping the ground underneath Divad’s parted feet and yanking the dirt into the sky. The startled teen that had been standing atop it was launched into the sky, hurtling through the air with no idea what was happening. The Telarian moved forward, observing his arc, and as the teen neared the ground again, he didn’t even let Divad hit the ground before another pillar of dirt shot out of the ground, sending him flying in another direction like a tossed rag doll.
“There we go!” In her enthusiasm, Tala had leaped to her feet, her fist punching the air as her brother once again threw the large wolf across the field as though he was nothing. A small grin had taken place on Nalo’s mouth, and Nebulos was cheering a few seats down.
Morphing in midair, the wolf-creature came crashing back down onto the ground and stumbled a little before bolting toward Etoile again, snarls tearing at the skin of his throat. Feet parted, the Telarian raised two hands, counting in his head and waiting for Divad to reach the spot he had marked in his mind before suddenly yanking his arms inward, pulling over two large boulders and watching them fall over onto the wolf-creature.
A few long seconds passed, and Divad burst out from between the rocks, but his steps were less sure, now, confused in the battering that his body had received. The dirt shifted lazily under Etoile’s influence as he waited, watched, analyzed the male’s movements to see if he was going to have to shoot the teen upward again. But he decided against it and merely shifted the ground between Divad’s unsure steps, causing the wolf to stumble and topple over, his large mass hitting the ground hard and shaking the dirt that Etoile had a grip on.
“Give up?” Etoile strode over the huge furred form and stood over it, hoping that Divad would agree so that they could both leave the ring. But a paw suddenly whipped out and batted him aside, into the dust, his muscles shouting at him in protest as he hit the ground.
A noise of disapproval shocked the throats of those in the stands, but Etoile didn’t argue, whipping to his feet again and sweeping his hand horizontally across the ground, creating a wave of dirt and rocks that pushed Divad over, again and again, shoving him and tumbling him across the ground like a tiny object in a vast ocean.
Just to make sure that the teen didn’t pull another stunt like that again, Etoile summoned what was left of his power and shot another pillar of dirt into the air, pushing the large form with it and watching as the shape came hurtling back down, crashing into the ground as nothing but limped teen and sending a tremor through the ground he impacted and then settled, not moving as Etoile approached him again.
Although bells were ringing, signaling that he had won, Etoile bent over Divad and rolled him over, trying to get the teen’s blinking eyes to focus on him to make sure that he hadn’t battered him too badly. Blurred eyes finally settled on his face and an expression of annoyance crossed his face when he realized, dizzily, that he had lost. Laughing, Etoile helped him to his feet, keeping him from falling.
“Told you I’d win,” he teased, ignoring the aching in various parts of his body and trying to play them off. He was suddenly pushed aside as Mercedes took her place at Divad’s side, sending Etoile scathing glares for the damage he had done to the wolf-teen. “Mercedes,” Etoile greeted amiably without really looking at her, busy extending a hand to Divad. “Hey, good fight, man.”
“You, too, dude,” Divad croaked, and they shook hands as Mercedes watched in confusion, looking disbelieving as they exchanged smiles that didn’t seem malicious in the slightest. “But next time, I’ll kill you.” Both teens laughed, and without another word, Etoile saluted, turned, and walked away toward the crowd that was waiting for him.
His girlfriend would probably check the surface of his skin for the bruises that he knew were coming soon, but that didn’t matter, and Etoile met his friends with an inner contentment that was radiating on his dirt-stained face, ignoring the ache in his muscles for a much more significant happiness.
Alright, alright. I'll admit it.
This story has no real purpose.
To be honest, I really just had the craving to write a fight scene. So this is a fight scene between Etoile and Divad ('cause they're awesome). It was fun to write, although I feel like I could have done better. But I really don't have time to mess with it; maybe I'll try another fight scene after the application.
Anyway, enjoy!
--
Dim and quiet, the locker room was empty save for a single soul that lingered on the bench, slumped over so that even he was barely noticeable among the spacious rows. Blue, warm optics drilled holes into the floor, almost nervously, listening to the sounds above and waiting for the ones that would call him to action. Until then, he remained in the quiet, left to experience the anticipation that was crawling over his spine.
The noises from above were not helping his nerves; there was cheering and then sounds of surprise alternatively, followed by long groans as particularly sickening thuds crashed on the ground above. He had not bothered to check who was already fighting, but it was clear that one of them was getting a cruel beating, and he couldn’t help but worry that he would soon take the poor soul’s place on the receiving end of the fists.
A quiet presence entered on the other side of the room, and the figure didn’t notice it at first, not until the entering form made a small noise to alert him to their arrival. Turning around quickly, as though expecting that something intimidating had come out of the shadows, there was a moment’s pause before a smile suddenly curved on his lips and he leaped to his feet. “What are you doing here?”
Soft white light gently cast on the newcomer’s features, lighting up the golden eyes and setting the smooth grey skin with shadows. Her thin arms snaked out to wrap around him, and they tightly embraced, the girl not bothering to attempt an answer at the moment as more pressing concerns weighed on them both. Shifting through the thick crimson curls to brush them away from the worried blue eyes, she gave the male a questioning look.
“I’ll be fine,” he promised, touching his nose to hers, blue lenses exploring the golden depths in front of him. “It’s just training, I should be able to handle it.” Scarlet fingertips trailed on the back of her upper arms, lightly, distracted as she pulled out a smaller notebook and rapidly scrawled a note for him, one that made a light laughter bubbled out of his throat.
Kick his butt, okay? He could almost read his girlfriend’s arrogant aura in the written words, and they made him smile even wider.
“For sure.” Even in the low light, he was able to find his girlfriend’s lips, and he captured them eagerly for a few seconds, a thrill running through him when she responded just as enthusiastically. Perhaps it was the looming presence of the approaching event that the boy was going to take place in that poured heat into their motions, like the smoldering of hot lava beneath a calm and peaceful surface.
It wasn’t long before they were interrupted, however, as suddenly the door flew open behind the girl, and the two jumped apart and turned to the entering presence, their cheeks flushing a little, although their expressions were serious when they realized who had entered into the locker room, his frame large and crowding the ceiling that hung a little too low.
Hooded eyes flashed with amusement at the female, glancing between the Telarian and the Chiz and choosing not to say anything. But he didn’t need to; the girl quickly collected her notebook, brushed her lips against her boyfriend’s cheek once more, and silently left the room, leaving Etoile standing alone against the larger mass that he was presented with. His hands dug into the pockets of his shorts as he greeted the newcomer coolly, much more calmly than his insides felt. “Divad.”
“Ganmade.” Divad rarely used his first name. “How’s it going?”
“Alright. . .” Carefully removing the towel from his shoulders, leaving his chest completely bare and vulnerable, Etoile hung it in a locker and then faced Divad once more, lifting his chin to stare at the male with a cool blue gaze. “How about you?”
“Good.” Lazily, as though he belonged there, Divad took a seat on one of the long benches. “Excited for our match. It’s been a while since we’ve fought in casual combat.”
“Yeah. It should be interesting.” His eyebrows lifted a little, a silent question to the other participant in their strange discussion. This was Sector SUN’s locker room, and he was rather curious as to why Divad had decided that his presence was necessary before their match. If he was trying to unnerve the Telarian, it wasn’t working; Etoile was simply perplexed.
A sigh seemed to pass through Divad’s frame, and he gestured to the bench in front of him with a large hand. Although hesitant, Etoile was obedient, and sat to face the male calmly, waiting for him to start the conversation that he had apparently come here for.
“We can talk, man-to-man?” The question came suddenly, startling them out of their silence.
A pause, but Etoile’s voice was sure when he answered. “Of course.”
“Good.” Stretching a little, nonchalantly, Divad sat back and looked at him squarely, suddenly launching into the discussion that sounded almost prepared. “Look, I know this was a long time ago. But I feel like I need to ask you anyway. You know that I wasn’t a part of the whole. . . thing, right? She lied to me, too.”
That didn’t stop it from hurting. “Yeah, I know.”
“She told me that you had broken up with her. . . the same lies she had been feeding everyone else, and I believed her. I didn’t go into that with the intention of doing you wrong.”
Lips parted, purple tongue preparing to speak, but Divad wouldn’t let him, continuing onward.
“I just want us to be cool. I never really had any problems with you, and I don’t have any now, and if you still felt-“
“I don’t.”
The abrupt interruption startled Divad into silence, allowing Etoile to talk quietly, a faint, faint smile on his lips.
“It’s like you said. That was a long time ago. I’ve long moved past any bitterness towards you or her.” A light shrug punctuated his shoulders. “It’s not a big deal.”
“You seem happier,” Divad added offhandedly, a simple observation that he had made as time had passed. “Your girlfriend is really cute.”
The dangerous, flashing look in the Telarian’s blue eyes shut him up immediately.
“Alright, alright, sorry, just saying.” He extended a hand, full of thick fingers, and Etoile gazed at it for a few long moments, considering. “We’re good?”
Suddenly, a pale yellow palm was grasping the larger one, and they shook firmly. “We’re good,” Etoile confirmed quietly, and then suddenly his mouth pulled into a smirk. “But I’m still going to kick your butt in the training ring.”
Divad laughed, a deep, hoarse sound in his throat. “Alright, Ganmade, we’ll see! We’re up soon, and then you can put your fists where your mouth is.” With a lazy wave and a grin still present on his expression, the boy stalked out of the locker room, and Etoile welcomed the silence of the room with a calm expression. Somehow, he was no longer nervous about the fight; rather, he was almost looking forward to it.
The minutes ticked by, but somehow his mind didn’t seem to register the seconds that flew by. Standing, his thoughts were a series of focused distractions, painting slow pictures for his mind’s eye. Muscles, stretching along the lines of his bare arms as he lifted them into the air and curved them behind his inclined head. Heart rate, slow and rhythmic in the quiet of the room, each echoing in different parts of his chest. Lungs, expanding and contracting with each of his silent breaths that chilled his insides. Irises, sweeping over his surroundings and finally settling on the ceiling as another loud burst of noises came from above.
And then it was finally time.
A bell sounded, signaling the start of the next training match, and the boy loped toward the door lazily, waiting for it to open. Blinking automatic lights would tell him when the movement would actually begin, since both participants were made equal by forcing them to wait for both doors to slide open at the same time on opposite sides of the ring. When the shift finally began, Etoile watched it slide upward, upward, light gradually spilling in and filling the room.
A bit of static buzzed and the ring seemed to morph; what was once a grassy plain had now become a mountainous terrain, with dirt and rocks scattered about. But Etoile barely had any time to register the scenery before his eyes found the form on the other side that was already striding forward, and he did the same, edging onto the field with his eyes locked on the approaching form.
He had battled with Divad before, and he could guess how the male would start. A calm appearance, followed by a sudden outburst of movement that was supposed to catch him off guard. Scarlet-tipped fingers twitched a little, eager to let loose the energy that was pooling into the ends, but he held it back. Letting his opponent make the first move was usually a better option for him.
It was as he had predicted. Divad’s steady walking suddenly tore into motion as the teen exploded with dark fur, letting it rip across his skin while his body contorted and morphed until a snarling wolf, almost double the original size of the teen, was advancing toward him in leaps and bounds. Etoile barely had time to throw up a shield before the massive paw smacked him aside, throwing his body many long yards along the field where it hit the dirt and rolled.
Up in the stands, a collective groan seemed to pass among those who had gathered to watch, particularly in a certain section full of intense viewers and a specific green-haired girl, whose expression furrowed a little. “Come on, Etoile!” she shouted to her brother, her robust voice echoing across the field. “Pound him into the ground!”
On his feet in seconds, the pale yellow male crouched down and waited as the wolf-creature galloped at him once more, tearing across the surface of the dirt and making for him eagerly like a predator that had tasted blood. This time, he was met with a thicker red shield, one that deflected his attack and made him snort a little, unhappily.
A guttural sound growled in his throat, and Etoile could almost hear the annoyance in it. But he only grinned from behind the scarlet barrier and then pulled back his arm, throwing a force through at Divad and hurling it into the wolf-creature’s shoulder. Little good his fist did, though; Divad staggered back on his four legs, but then a snarl ripped again and the intent to attack flashed in the lit lenses of the narrowed eyes.
Bounding forward to swat at him again, the wolfoid’s expression changed from smug to surprised as his paw met thin air; the Telarian had taken a spinning leap out of range and was now balanced on top of a nearby rock, crouched down and watching the wolf locate and glare at him as suddenly the creature morphed back into a teenager that didn’t look pleased. “What are you, Ganmade, a ballerina?!” he called upward, anger hinted in his tone.
“You’re funny,” Etoile called back, not bothering to straighten from his position as he eyed the teen warily. “Remind me to laugh next time!” Glancing around for a quick second, he noted a few rocks, smaller than the one he was perched on, and quickly wrapped a few thick bands of power around them before throwing them toward the sauntering teen who had to duck out of the way, barely missing them.
Fur rippled across his skin again, and the wolf-creature burst into action, tearing toward the rock and ramming into it with his shoulder, shaking the boy and sending him toppling toward the ground. A quick fist of telekinetic power stopped him before he hit the ground, but the moment of disorientation was enough for Divad to catch him in his teeth and send him flying across the field once more. His fingers curled around the loose dirt as he landed, staining the tips with a course brown.
Another unhappy noise ripped across the stands, and Tala winced a little when the boy’s lean body hit the ground and rolled to a stop, several seconds ticking by before he got up again. “Come on, Flashlight,” she hissed under her breath, looking a little tense although her body language was calm. “What the heck are you doing?” Next to her, a certain Chiz was in agreement, golden lenses not missing a single thing down on the field.
A few long leaps brought Divad across the field in seconds, and Etoile was once again forced to batter away his form with a hasty red barrier, causing another look of annoyance to cross Divad’s face. Suddenly the wolf-shape disappeared and an irritated face was only inches away from his, newly formed mouth spitting out words. “Hey Ganmade, when are you going to stop playing defense and actually fight me like a man?”
“You want me to fight offense?” Etoile returned calmly, his voice the same hushed tone that Divad was using.
“I want you to fight me.”
Suddenly, a small laughter pierced the frame of the male, shaking it a little. “You’re an idiot.”
“Excuse me?” The boy snarled a little, although the sound wasn’t quite as impressive when it wasn’t accompanied by a set of thick, sharp teeth and bristling fur.
“What are they doing?” Tala muttered from her seat, mostly to herself. Confusion was slowly infecting the audience, most of them wondering why the two fighters were having a discussion at close range on the battlefield.
But two pairs of eyes were burning into each other, completely unaware of the audience around them. “By allowing me to fight defense for this long,” Etoile smirked, his expression entirely nonchalant, “you’ve given me the chance to get to know my surroundings.” The other male made to interrupt him, but Etoile’s next words cut him off instantly. “In other words, I know how to win.”
Suddenly, a hand that had begun to glow discreetly behind him shot up into the air, gripping the ground underneath Divad’s parted feet and yanking the dirt into the sky. The startled teen that had been standing atop it was launched into the sky, hurtling through the air with no idea what was happening. The Telarian moved forward, observing his arc, and as the teen neared the ground again, he didn’t even let Divad hit the ground before another pillar of dirt shot out of the ground, sending him flying in another direction like a tossed rag doll.
“There we go!” In her enthusiasm, Tala had leaped to her feet, her fist punching the air as her brother once again threw the large wolf across the field as though he was nothing. A small grin had taken place on Nalo’s mouth, and Nebulos was cheering a few seats down.
Morphing in midair, the wolf-creature came crashing back down onto the ground and stumbled a little before bolting toward Etoile again, snarls tearing at the skin of his throat. Feet parted, the Telarian raised two hands, counting in his head and waiting for Divad to reach the spot he had marked in his mind before suddenly yanking his arms inward, pulling over two large boulders and watching them fall over onto the wolf-creature.
A few long seconds passed, and Divad burst out from between the rocks, but his steps were less sure, now, confused in the battering that his body had received. The dirt shifted lazily under Etoile’s influence as he waited, watched, analyzed the male’s movements to see if he was going to have to shoot the teen upward again. But he decided against it and merely shifted the ground between Divad’s unsure steps, causing the wolf to stumble and topple over, his large mass hitting the ground hard and shaking the dirt that Etoile had a grip on.
“Give up?” Etoile strode over the huge furred form and stood over it, hoping that Divad would agree so that they could both leave the ring. But a paw suddenly whipped out and batted him aside, into the dust, his muscles shouting at him in protest as he hit the ground.
A noise of disapproval shocked the throats of those in the stands, but Etoile didn’t argue, whipping to his feet again and sweeping his hand horizontally across the ground, creating a wave of dirt and rocks that pushed Divad over, again and again, shoving him and tumbling him across the ground like a tiny object in a vast ocean.
Just to make sure that the teen didn’t pull another stunt like that again, Etoile summoned what was left of his power and shot another pillar of dirt into the air, pushing the large form with it and watching as the shape came hurtling back down, crashing into the ground as nothing but limped teen and sending a tremor through the ground he impacted and then settled, not moving as Etoile approached him again.
Although bells were ringing, signaling that he had won, Etoile bent over Divad and rolled him over, trying to get the teen’s blinking eyes to focus on him to make sure that he hadn’t battered him too badly. Blurred eyes finally settled on his face and an expression of annoyance crossed his face when he realized, dizzily, that he had lost. Laughing, Etoile helped him to his feet, keeping him from falling.
“Told you I’d win,” he teased, ignoring the aching in various parts of his body and trying to play them off. He was suddenly pushed aside as Mercedes took her place at Divad’s side, sending Etoile scathing glares for the damage he had done to the wolf-teen. “Mercedes,” Etoile greeted amiably without really looking at her, busy extending a hand to Divad. “Hey, good fight, man.”
“You, too, dude,” Divad croaked, and they shook hands as Mercedes watched in confusion, looking disbelieving as they exchanged smiles that didn’t seem malicious in the slightest. “But next time, I’ll kill you.” Both teens laughed, and without another word, Etoile saluted, turned, and walked away toward the crowd that was waiting for him.
His girlfriend would probably check the surface of his skin for the bruises that he knew were coming soon, but that didn’t matter, and Etoile met his friends with an inner contentment that was radiating on his dirt-stained face, ignoring the ache in his muscles for a much more significant happiness.
I also like how the area where they fight isn't a typical gym or something, but had rocks and ground on it. Because it figures Operatives would need to train in different circumstances. It all fits. And the mental image of Divad going wolf is pretty darn hardcore.
