you can't take me {darla/cass}

[k!ah]

E  V  I  E    ♣    H  A  R  L  O  T

"You held me down, but I got up 
Already brushing off the dust"

Adrenaline pumped through my veins, roaring in my ears. I could hear the distance howling of the crowd, the chanting of my name mixed with the name of the girl how stood in front of me. She was in a fighting stance, one leg slightly behind the other in a wide stance. Her arms were up, shielding her face, her eyes watching my every move closely. A smile crept onto my lips as I eyes the woman down. You wouldn't often see this sort of confident air about me. Only the ring and the atmosphere that surrounded the ring brought it out of me. 

"What are we waiting for?" I ask, tailing my hear to the side as I straightened my ponytail and got into my own offensive stance. "Lets fight." With that I strike out at her, my hand curling into a fist. She's slow, I note as I watch her move. But as soon as the thought crosses my mind I regret it. The girl moves with a speed that I had not been expecting. I had watched her fights, I knew her moves... So why did it feel so different to be in the ring with her, to face her head-

My breath is knocked out of me.

Winded, I struggle to breathe, my lungs refusing to open my airways and to let the air in. Cursing, I shake my head, finally managing to inhale some much needed oxygen. The girl laughs, her lips close to my ear. "Didn't expect that, did you," she hisses as she prepares for another shot, her fist coming straight for the side of my head. Not so swiftly I manage to duck out the way before regaining my balance and using the momentum to throw my body at the girl. Our bodies collide and we fall to the mat,the girl hitting her head hard. Our limbs tangled together. I manage to get my co-ordination first, trapping the girl on her back. My legs were wrapped around her torso and before I can manage to get a hold of her arms she manages a swift punch to my chin, causing me to lose balance. Taking advantage of it she knocks me onto my stomach and suddenly my neck is wrapped in an iron grip and once again my oxygen supply is cut off. 

Clawing at the girls arm I can feel my bodies consciousness start to fade, darkness creeping into my vision. 

I was going to loose.

[cass]

d a r l a .

"We'll come back home
We'll come back home one day
But right now we are called to see a place
Where you and I will change the world we know
Anywhere that I'm with you is home"

She hated watching Evie fight, and she was vocal about it, never letting Evie forget that she didn’t like it. She could count on a single hand how many of Evie’s fights she had attended: Three. Three fucking fights, that was all she had seen, that was more than enough to last her a lifetime. Yet, here she was, adding a number four to that growing tally. If Evie could see her right now she would be frowning, a deep scowl pressed onto her forehead as she stared down at the cage in the center of the room.

For a girl who thrived in avoiding the spotlight, there was nothing more to the opposite then what she was watching. Evie hated being the center of attention, and Darla was always trying to drag her into the thick of a bustling party. But this? How was being thrown around and

oooh-

Darla cringed, shrinking back into her chair as she watched as Evie was punched in the stomach. The crowd let out an appreciative roar as Evie’s opponent struck, she could picture the way the air had been torn from her lungs. Being winded was not a fun experience, and Darla had to force herself to look as the two girls fell to the floor in a heap of flailing limbs.

Fists, she decided were the most unsophisticated weapon out there. The spear was a good weapon, elegant, long, designed to be danced with. Darla didn’t even mind the glaive, it was long, a little more jerky, but still swift and deadly. But fists, they were messy, the dance was abrupt, heat fuelled and ended with too much contact. It wasn’t pretty.

Darla let out a loud tch as Evie is thrown off the top, within moments her opponent has an arm around her neck. She groaned, regardless of how much she didn’t want to be here, she knew how much Evie did. She had seen her best friend train day after day, but in all the hours to earn her way to this fight. It couldn’t end, not now, not after just a few short minutes.

”Fight harder, Eve!” Darla yelled, standing up, and leaning on the chair in front of her. She hoped her voice was louder than the crowds. But then, she had always been good at making herself be heard, no matter where she was. “You can do this!”

[k!ah]

E  V  I  E    ♣    H  A  R  L  O  T

"You held me down, but I got up 
Already brushing off the dust"

”Fight harder, Eve!” 

The words cut through the impending darkness. They fill my ears pushing away the growing shade of black. My consciousness slowly back with grasp.

“You can do this!” 

Darla. Her words reach me, and my eyes search the crowd until I see her, leaning over the chair in front of her. She always knew how to stick out of the crowd. Fight harder. She was right. I had to fight harder. I had trained for months for this. The fight had only really just begun. I wouldn't give up. I couldn't give up. Summoning all my energy I force my legs to push my body and the girls up, until gravity does its work. We fall but the girl lands beneath me and I hear the gasp of air as it is knocked out of her lungs.

Winded.

I take this opportunity to rip her arm from my throat. gulping down a lungful of air. I could almost sigh in relief, my energised, I quickly throw my body onto the girl, I bawl my fist brining it down in a wide arc it knocks into the side of the girls head. She groans, her body which had begun to tense, ready to push me off, softens again as her body is tackled my pain, temporarily distracting her.

Straddling the girls I lean down, my lips almost grazing the other girls ear lobe. I could feel it coming, flowing through my limbs the familiar presences of confidence that usually engulfed me in the midst of a fight. It embraced me and I relished in the feeling as it raced over my tongue encouraging the words to slip past my bruised lips, "is that all you've got?" The words drip with arrogance, arrogance that should not exist considering the fact that a couple seconds ago I was the one in a head lock, losing consciousness. But I could never stop myself, I could never hold my tongue once the adrenaline started pumping. It wasn't something that I was always proud of.

I wrap an arm around the girls head, resting the back of her neck on her forearm. Then I rip her opposite arm from her side and press it against her ear before I lean into it. The arm triangle choke. I had practiced with over 50 times. I held tight. The girl beneath me struggled, her legs flailing as she tried to far herself from my hold. It was no use. She became weaker, her movements less. Why wouldn't she just tap out? Frustrated I glance at her, face red, eyes bulging. There was determination in her features. She didn't want to give up. 

Understanding dawns on me and I tightened my grip. She wasn't going to willingly back down. The only way she was going to bow out was if I finished the job. So I would. I watched as her features slacken and she loses consciousness. She doesn't move and I release my grip. I had won. Suddenly the crowd erupts in cheers around me. They chant my name.

'Evie, Evie, Evie, Evie...'

Standing up tall I turn in a circle, my eyes taking in everything. I couldn't believe it, after the months of pain, sweat and tears I had finally done it. I had won. Really won. A smile spreads across my lips and I thrust my fist into the air. A yell erupts from my lips and I turn to face Darla in the crowd. 'Thank you' I mouth in her direction. I would have to thank her properly in person in a few moment. But for the time being I turned back to the crowd and took it all in, absorbing the energy that surrounded me. 

[cass]

d a r l a .

"We'll come back home
We'll come back home one day
But right now we are called to see a place
Where you and I will change the world we know
Anywhere that I'm with you is home"

When she was younger she used to watch the seals fight by the dock. During the spring a whole bunch of them would drag themselves onto the sand, right where the rocks were. It was sheltered from some of the harsher waves when the wind picked up, and at night the breeze bounced away from there, she could understand why they liked it so much. The space would be calm for a few days, she liked to compare it to that little bit of peace, where your breath stilled and the air around you was damp and seemed to hang in a tense moment before the clouds unleashed themselves.

The seals were the same, before long the sand would be buried by their bodies, and there was no more space for the ones that were in the water, edging their way closer, seeking some small spot on the dry land. The fighting erupted, the call of the seals wild and chaotic like the mess that rang around her. Evie’s body crashing on the ground with her opponents reminded her a lot of the seals. When they fought there was smacking and crying, blood and howls of pain. It was ungraceful, undignified, but just like the seals one always came out on top. Darla watched as Evie straightened, searching the crowd for her.

For a brief moment their eyes met, and within seconds her best friend was swallowed as the men and women around her jumped from their chairs, thrusting themselves forward in cheers and roars as Evie was declared the victor. They all wanted to congratulate her, shake the hand of their new champion. Darla sank back into her seat, folding her arms over her chest as she nibbled anxiously on her lip.

There was a mess waiting for her down in that ring, covered in blood, and tomorrow she would be full of bruises and swollen lips and fingers. She would piece her back together, sitting up with her for the rest of the night, making sure to change the ice on her hands every twenty minutes. Darla would stitch her up if any of the cuts were too deep, making sure that her friend would be as beautiful and perfect as she had been before she’d gone and got herself beaten up. It was the one time she was the one that looked after her friend, her protector, and helper. The rest of the time Evie was chasing behind her, trying to make sure Darla didn’t get herself killed from jumping off a cliff or holding her breath too long under the water.

The way they worked was like magic, in step with one another. Best friends.

The crowd around her had started to disperse, Darla glanced down at her watch, the day had turned to morning, and she stood, stretching her stiff limbs. An ache had settled itself into her butt from sitting for too long, and she gave it a gentle massage as she moved through the rows of chairs and down the steps to the changing rooms. By now everyone should have gone, Evie wasn’t the best at telling them to leave her alone and any remaining stragglers would be scared off with a quick word from Darla. She was good at sending them scampering.

Much to her surprise the room was empty aside from Evie who sat, gently pulling at the wraps around her knuckles. Darla moved to the first aid kit that was tucked into the first locker, she pulled it open grabbing the instant ice pack. As she moved over to Evie she snapped the centre, giving it a good shake to awaken the chemical reaction. “Here, let me do that,” she said, placing the ice pack into Evie’s free hand. She sat down beside her friend, lean fingers pulling at the wrap with practiced precision. It fell away quickly, and she grabbed the ice pack, using a cloth as a barrier before putting it against her skin.

“You did well tonight, congratulations,” she said, avoiding Evie’s gaze. It was hard enough to come to these things, and she often found herself choking on her words when it came to congratulating her. “Are you going to need any stitches?”

[k!ah]

EVIE HARLOT

I couldn't put into words how it felt. It felt amazing though, I knew that much. To finally have achieved something that I had only dreamed of, to have it in my grasps. I was the champion. And the crowd was chanting my name. Soon people were flowing down into the ring, surrounding me. Embracing me. Congratulating me. And suddenly it felt like a lot. Like too much. I wasn't one who liked to be centre of attention. That was Darlas forte. She would have loved it down here, to have all these people buzzing around her, well if the reason for celebrating were different. For any other reason she would have come alight in a situation like this. Meanwhile, I couldn't quite form coherent sentences, stumbling over words. But I don't think anyone took that much notice, too hyped at the result of todays event.

The fight was over, the adrenaline fading, my shyness starting to creep in tempting me into its familiar embrace.

Hands clasped my shoulder, faces floating in and out of my gaze.

"Congratulations!"

"You fought well!"

"A true champion."

"Your family will be proud."

"Congrats."

"Well done!"

"Evie! Evie! Evie!"

The words merge together until I don't know who says what, faces rushing past me as supporters reach down to celebrate the new champion. I smile, and bow, and thank them. I clasp so many hands, I embrace so many people. I was exhausted. My injuries had begun to ache as the adrenaline left my system. I could feel the swelling begin to set in around my lips where my opponent had smashed her fist into it. I could feel my ribs begin to protest with each breath, reminding me of the brutal hit I had taken that had left me gasping for air.

The hours seemed to drag on and I begin to find myself hoping that each face that walks through the doors will be the last. And my wish comes quickly. The last person exits, leaving me on my own. My eyes travel to the door way, to make sure that I am alone. After a minute when no one else enters, and sigh of relief escapes my bruised lips. I slump over, and the pain of todays events finally takes over. My body is battered and bruised. My lips it swollen and my ribs ache with each inhale and exhale. But despite this I still smile. I smile until my cheeks ache. I smile because the proud that blossoms deep within my chest is something that I will hold onto tightly, with two hands, and not let go.

My fingers gentle begin to pull at the wraps that encased my hands when I hear a disturbance at the doorway. I look up to see Darla enter the room. Instantly she grabs for the first aid kit, it was almost like deja vu watching her reach for the kit. It was not the first time that she had come to my aid. Her patching my up after a fight was something that was a common occurrence between the two of us. It was part of the rare times when she would be chasing after me, making sure that I was okay, instead of it being the other way around. Often it was the other way around.

Her hands make quick work of the icepack, as she takes a seat next to me. “Here, let me do that,” she places the icepack into my free hand as she gently pulling the warn wraps from between her fingers. She doesn't look me in the eye. She never did after a fight. For a moment we sit in silence, I watch her hands as the work on the straps, freeing my bruised fingers from their entrapment. “You did well tonight, congratulations." Unlike the people who had flooded the room earlier her words feel forced. At one time that may had offended me. To anyone else they may have seemed cold. But no to me. I knew that it would have been hard for her to say them, that it was against her beliefs to thank me considering how vulgar the event is.

"Thank you. Thank you for coming. I know that you hate these things. And I know that watching them- well to be blunt- make you want to hurl..." I trail off for a moment, as I turn too face my best friend. "But I really appreciate you being here today. To have you and the rest of the family here supporting me, means a lot. So thank you.

And no, I think I'm good for stitches today."

[cass]

d a r l a .

"We'll come back home
We'll come back home one day
But right now we are called to see a place
Where you and I will change the world we know
Anywhere that I'm with you is home"

This was more like the Evie she knew and she smiled gently, comfortable with this familiarity. It was one of the only times where she sought the old, where her nerves were eased by the predictable. Otherwise she was an explosive mess, always seeking out new ways to test her limits. Just last week she’d gone cliff diving with some friends from school. There was a thrill, a terrifying thrill jumping from the edge of a cliff, wondering if you had leaped far enough into the abyss. As you fell, flipping in the air you balanced against the rough, limb tearing rocks of the cliff face, stomach in your heart hoping that you wouldn’t touch.

Then you’re falling into the cool embrace of the waters below, and that fear evolves. It flows through your limbs like pure adrenaline and a thirst to do it again, to tempt fate and ask her to play with you. It was the same with sparring in the Training Centre, when they were allowed to use weapons to fight. You forget that the rules existed and suddenly you’re swinging, trying to stay alive in a match that’s only meant to be fun. There was an elegance, to this game of death, where a slice of flesh was so different than a punch to the skull.

Darala listened, working carefully, as she moved to Evie’s other hands. The wraps were done up tightly, and her fingers fumbled with the base, she dug them into the knots, pulling gently until it released. From there she unwound the bandages, rolling them up as she went. They were slick with sweat and she wrinkled her nose, scrunching up her face as she finished off the first one and tossed it into Evie’s bag.

“Well then,” she said, dropping her hands from the ice pack, and slapping them against her thighs, “looks like we’re all done here.” She stood up, reaching down to pick up Evie’s bag, slinging it over her shoulder she looked at Evie. “Keep that ice on there for another ten, then swap, okay?” She shrugged her arm through the other sleeve, there was no need for Evie to carry the bag, she was beaten up enough as it was. “Come on, let’s go.”

She spun, moving through the door, making her way into the cool night air. It bit at her exposed face and hands, and she tugged on her sleeves, trying to protect herself a little bit more. Darla always enjoyed colder nights, she loved watching the way her breath billowed out in front of her like a cloud. They walked in silence, making their way through a sleeping district and towards their home by the edge of the water. The stars danced in the sky above them, the moon shining boldly as the clouds lazily moved across the sky.

“What would you do if you got reaped?” She asked, breaking the silence. “Your fists aren’t going to save you in that Arena, you know that, Eve.” It was a question that always loomed heavy in her mind, she knew that they were both confident and capable Careers, but Evie had always been better with her fists than with a weapon. The reaping was just around the corner, so it felt necessary, almost required, to ask. She had gone too many reapings without asking, but as they grew older there was one more ticket with their names in that bowl. One more reason to ask.

[k!ah]

EVIE HARLOT

Darla works on her other hand now, and Evie sits in silence, watching as she pulls the strap from between her fingers. They were starting to throb now, the days event finally getting to them. She still remembers her first fight. It had ended terribly. Darla had tried to stop her, grabbing her hand, begging her to forget it, to choose someone closer to her level. But Evie was stubborn when it came to her pride, and she had already set her eyes on this mission, and would not stop until she or her opponent were knocked unconscious.

The boy she had decided to pick a fight with was two times her size, and three years her senior. He had been training for years already, and was the top of his class. Anyone would think she was mad, and maybe she was. Maybe she truely had lost her mind, but she had wanted to test herself. to see just how weak she really was. Break herself down, so that she could pick herself back up, piece by piece, making sure that the new structure was ten times stronger.

She had marched up to him, brimming with confidence, Darla trailing behind her with pleas to stop this madness. But this was one of those rare occasion when she had flushed her voice out, pretending that she could not hear her. Tapping him on the shoulder, her eyes burned with a fearlessness that she had not known before.

He turned, and was greeted with her fist connecting with his jaw.

Obviously this didn't go down well.

She learnt the hard way that there were better ways to approach a situation like this.

Evie often struggled with the social side of things, and she had not known exactly how to ask the boy to fight her. She had believed that he would take one look at her and turn her down. But she knew, this way that he would have no option but to hit her back. He would look weak otherwise, in front of his cohort. And she knew enough about him to know that he would not do that. And he did respond, with a fist to to gut, quickly followed by another. She had gasped for air, not so confident as she prepared for another strike. But that time never came, because she was on the ground, stars dancing across her vision. Cheek burning. She tasted blood.

"Don't start fights you can't win."

He'd spat at her before, her world had faded, darkness taking over.

“Come on, let’s go.” Darla's voice returns her to reality. Evie looked up to see had her bag slung over she shoulder, her feet already carrying her towards the exit. Evie quickly jumps to her feet, chasing after her best friend. They walk in silence, the cold air refreshing against the battered flesh of her face. She welcomed it, allowing it to soothe her aching face.

The icepack was pressed against her knuckles, reducing the oncoming swelling when Darla broke the silence, “what would you do if you got reaped? Your fists aren’t going to save you in that Arena, you know that, Eve.” Evie comes to a halt. Yes, she favoured her fists more than anything. But she new how to use other weapons. Yes she was considered mediocre when it came down to it, and she would never be able to wield a spear like Darla. The spear looked like it belonged in her hands when she wielded it. It was something magical to watch the way her it moved in her hands, around her body. Like a deadly dance, one you did not want to get too close to or risk being punctured.

"I- I don't know." She had never really thought about, which surprised her. She had always felt safe with her abilities to use her body to protect herself. She was a Champion after all. But Darla was right. In the Arena, surrounded by others wielding deadly, life destroying blades, her fists seemed sort of like a joke. How would she fight her best if she was not able to utilise her favourite weapon?

She wouldn't be able to. She would be put down.

"I would find a way to make it back, Darla." She hoped she sounded confident, "I know how to use a spear. Sure my skill really lack in comparison to you. But I still know what end to poke em' with. And that would be more than some." She winks as Darla, trying to use humour to hide her unease and to put her friends mind at ease.

[cass]

d a r l a .

"We'll come back home
We'll come back home one day
But right now we are called to see a place
Where you and I will change the world we know
Anywhere that I'm with you is home"

She felt almost cruel saying these things to Evie, but by now her best friend would be used to the fact that she tended to let loose the words from her mouth before she had properly thought about them. The air between them grew still, and Darla glance over at Evie, trying to read the expression on her face as they walked towards their house by the beach.

The answer she received surprised her more then she thought it would have, stumbling over an ‘I don’t know’ had her eyes widening as she turned her head to the sky. Her breath billowed out in front of her like a cloud, and she watched it disappear into the darkness, fading each time to reveal a glimpse of the stars before she exhaled again. She listened, without looking as Evie continued to talk, taking in everything she said.

Although she agreed, Darla was better with weapons, she didn’t think Evie’s skill was anything to laugh at. Darla wasn’t perfect with everything she used, and likewise, if the Arena didn’t hold a spear or a glaive she’d too find herself feeling more awkward with hands wrapped around a sword. Both of them were still going to do better than some lower district kid who had never held a knife before, but they still got their asses handed to them regularly in training.

“I’d have thought that was a given,” she turned to Evie, grinning at her friend, “you know, the entire ‘trying not to die’ thing.” She playfully punched Evie in the shoulder, trying to turn the conversation into something lighter and gentle after the hard day Evie had already experienced. Pushing and prodding was Darla’s specialty and more often then not it landed her in a heated conversation of thrown about insults and blunt attacks. The thrill of having her voice heard above the crowd was always too enticing for her.

The house arrived before them in a matter of no time at all, the walk from the fighting ring to the two-story building that sat by the edge of the ocean had melted away with her thoughts. As they moved towards the front door, Darla caught a glimpse of one of the older boats, some of the fish-netting was sticking out. Pursing her lips she dropped Evie’s bag by the door before wandering over.

“Let’s practice,” she said, waving Evie over towards her as she pulled the fishing spears out from underneath the netting. They were a little more awkward than an actual spear, but practicing with the imperfect made you a better fighter, Darla believed. There was no way in hell the Arena would be perfect, therefore practicing under those circumstances made for a more realistic situation. “I know you’re a little beat up, but if you were in the Arena you’d most likely have a wound or two.”

Darla tossed one of the spears at Evie, before moving herself into a fighter’s stance, “do you need a handicap?” She teased, putting an arm behind her back, “would this make it a fairer fight?”

[k!ah]

EVIE HARLOT

“I’d have thought that was a given, you know, the entire ‘trying not to die’ thing.” Darla playfully punches her in the shoulder a grin spread across her lips. Evie mirrored the grin, glad that most of the unease between them had melted away into the night air. Evie didn't like it when Darla worried about her. Evie was often the worry wart of the pair. Always making sure that Darla wasn't getting herself into to much trouble, or that she hadn't provoked the wrong person with her words that always struck truth- her truth- weather the recipient wanted to her it or not.

As they walked Evie looked out into the dark swirling ocean, her mind still preoccupied with Darla's question. Evie would be okay, she would make sure that she would be. Her eyes glance over at her friend as they walked. Darla was lost in her own thoughts, and Evie found herself wandering what she would do if Darla was reaped. Darla was strong, she was smart, but her sharp tongue and lack filter might cause the target on her back to expand before even setting foot in the arena. It worried her, having the status of 'career' was already a big enough target.

Shaking her head she looks away, pulling the icepack from her bruised knuckles. Spots of purple and blue had started painting her pale skin, spreading across the rough surface of her knuckles. Grimacing her she flexes her fingers, pain shoots through her hand, climbing up her forearm. She would feel that for the days to come. But it was worth it. She had won. She had finally claimed that title that she had trained for hard for. And it felt pretty damn good.

A smile spreads across her face as she looks down at her hand, her fingers flexing through the pain.

I was the champion.

The gentle sound go her bag hitting the ground causes her to look up. They had reached home, but Darla wasn't headed for the front door, her feet carrying her towards some fishing gear. Her fingers fish through it, pulling out two hunting spears. “Let’s practice,” she waves Evie over, tossing one of the staffs in her direction. “I know you’re a little beat up, but if you were in the Arena you’d most likely have a wound or two.” The stick was lighter than the spears in the training center. She tossed it from hand to hand, getting used to the weight, her eyes never leaving Darla.

She was right. In the Arena she wouldn't have time to lick her wounds, she would always have to be prepared.

She watches as her friend moves into her fighting stance. Her spear held between the two of us. "do you need a handicap?" she teases when Evie doesn't move. "Would this make it a fairer fight?”

The torment strikes perfectly and Evie lips pulls back into a smirk, "champion's don't need advantages." Biting her lip she watches Darla closely. "But if you want me to go easy on you... Sorry I cant even finish that," she laughs, lunging forwards with her spear extended, "I always put in 100%."

She hits, sweeping her spear in a wide arch she knocks Darla legs from beneath her.

"Always."

[cass]

d a r l a .

"We'll come back home
We'll come back home one day
But right now we are called to see a place
Where you and I will change the world we know
Anywhere that I'm with you is home"

Darla rolled her eyes the response, her free hand dancing over the tip of the spear as she eyed her friend. The spears were haggard and she knew that it’d be their paychecks on the line if they broke them. But, Darla had never been one to hold back. Even though she preferred the elegant dance of fighting, she still enjoyed putting everything into the hits she delivered.

Besides, fighting was more than the techniques used with a weapon, it was how you used the environment around you. It was using the person's emotions and getting inside their head. It was fighting with every part of your body and using the weapon as just another element of your attack. Perhaps if Evie learned how to entwine her brawling into her weapon fighting she would get better.

The idea sparked, but before she could even speak Evie’s charging at her, a devilish grin plastered in her face as she wings her spear. Darla didn’t even have the time to deflect before it’s whacking painfully into her legs, the momentum sweeping her off her feet. She landed with a huff and thud, spear clattering into the dirt as she grunted with surprise. Her butt yelled in protest and as she scrambled to her feet she rubbed at the sore spot, she’d have a bruise there tomorrow.

With a sigh, she picked up her spear, the rough wood beneath her fingers was familiar. She preferred the way these spears felt in the water, where the splinters softened and allowed her to grip the wood with more ease. But here? It dug into her skin, the taste of salt on her lips as the wind blew restlessly.

“Aye, aye, my butt is gonna hurt tomorrow,” she pouted as she raised her spear, angling the tip to point at Evie. Circling around, she moved effortlessly, the sound of her feet washed away by the echoing of the ocean that raged within the darkness.

Her eyes glint, seeing the path before her as Evie moved to keep Darla in her eyesight. “You’re already so bashed up that a few more bruises and cuts won’t make a difference, right?”

As Evie stepped again, Darla moved in, sweeping the bladed edge of the spear against Evie’s injured hand with enough force to make Darla almost regret it. The spear twisted, as she moved in closer, spinning the spear in one moment to send the opposite end right into Evie’s shin. It threw her head back, the sound of dry wood on skin made Darla smirk.

She twisted once more, spinning behind Evie and extending her arm with all her might to whack the spear against the back of Evie’s knees.

“You sure you don’t need that advantage?” She asked sweetly. The innocence in her voice was at odds with the cheekiness that twisted her lips.

[k!ah]

EVIE HARLOT

“Aye, aye, my butt is gonna hurt tomorrow,” Darla complains, her lips pushed out into a pout as she quickly picks up her spear, climbing to her feet, the whole time her spear directed at Evie. She was proud of herself, for getting in the first move. She loved the feeling that washed over her as she grasped her wooden spear, aiming the sharp end at Darla.

Grinning at her friend, her eyes taunting, "suck it up princess, we can put some ice on it later."

The two girls circle around each other. Darla's footing is effortless, her steps silent and deadly as she moves around Evie, her eyes twinkling with mischief. She taunts her some more and Evie respond with a playful growl, rolling her eyes at the threat of a few more cuts and bruises. Darla would have to hit her first, she thinks to herself, moving her feet with ease, years worth of practice making it feel like second nature. "To add to the pile," she gestures at her numerous cuts and bruises, "you will have to land a strike first," she teases gripping her spear tighter.

She spots an opening, her lips pulling back as she makes her move lunging-

Darla moves quickly her spear striking her injured hand. FUCK, she grunts at the searing pain that spreads through her hand, climbing her arm. She tries to step away, to protect her injured hand but Darla moves like a killer whale in the ocean, hunting its prey. One quick flick of the wrist and she is seeing stars as the end of Darla spear knocking the daylights out of her. Her teeth knock roughly against each other as her chin is knocked causing her head to be thrown backwards.

"Oooww, Darla-" But she is gone again, her body quickly skipping to the side before she sends her staff in one last sweeping arch. It connects with the back of her knees, knocking her off balance, causing her to tumble to the ground. Palms connect, staff thrown from her grasp.

“You sure you don’t need that advantage?” Evie turns her head slightly, Darlas voiced laced with sweet innocences. Her lips were pulled back into a cheeky grin. Shaking her head she picks herself up off the ground, wiping her palms against her pants. They were grazed slightly, small beads of blood forming into uneven dots across her pale skin.

"Seems like I do need that advantage," she laughs not bothering to pick up her spear once again. "I think I have been bashed up enough for one day. But rein check on me kicking your ass next time?"

~ thread end ~