Felix Hugo Fraldarius (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
finesseblade) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
middaeg2020-03-07 06:23 pm
finesseblade) wrote in middaeg2020-03-07 06:23 pm
Entry tags:
[Semi-Open] Full Moon Catch-All
Who: Felix & CR
When: The 9th + The Following Days
Where: Blue Lions House
What: Felix's time out in the Wilde has hastened his transformation more than he expected.
Warnings: Possibly some body horror. More warnings as needed.
A. The Full Moon
[ It starts as an ache in his teeth, his nails, his very bones, even.
Felix is attuned to his own moods enough to know that something is off in the days leading up to the full moon, and this month brings with it an entirely different set of challenges from the last. He wheels from one emotional extreme to another fast enough to give himself whiplash—somber and withdrawn one moment, restless and agitated and pacing the floor of the ballroom-turned-training-hall the next.
He's a makeshift training dummy he constructed out of burlap and sandbags, stuffed with straw and nailed to a framework of wooden posts. He thrashes it with a wooden training sword until the burlap starts to fray at the edges and its straw insides scatter across the floor, and then he growls, and he keeps thrashing at it until he hits it hard enough that the dummy splinters and snaps at the base, and the top half collapses with a wooden thunk to the floor.
Weak, Felix thinks, and he growls. The sound comes out like nothing human—an animal's growl, low and bubbling in the back of his throat.
It startles him enough that he drops his training sword, and it hits the ground with a clatter.
Anyone Felix suspects might be about the house this evening receives a message shortly after, brief, blunt, and not at all explanatory. ]
Stay out of the cellar until dawn. The door is locked. Leave it that way.
Sylvain—if you've brought anyone over you plan on seeing a second time? Send them home.
B. The Aftermath
[ In the wake of the full moon and his transformation, Felix finds himself so exhausted he can barely muster the energy to crawl out of bed, much less hold a blade in his hand and go through the motions of his usual morning drills. And he hates it. He's never liked feeling sick, weak, small; he's never liked breaking his routine when he could be practicing, honing his skills, improving his footwork or his technique or whichever aspect of his swordplay he's found lacking on a given day.
He stays confined to his bedroom, door firmly shut, and visitors get little more than a short, sharp, leave me be when they knock. Unfortunately, it comes out more like a weak, raspy croak, because his voice has abandoned him entirely after his change. He knows why. He knows what it'll be like after it returns. He hated that thought, too.
But it's hardly the worst of his changes. There are still other reasons he doesn't want to see anyone, and those reasons are obvious the second anyone dares to crack the door and peak inside. Felix stays curled up in bed, bundled in his blankets, but the creak of a door is all it takes for an ear to flick upward—not a man's ear, but a beast's, tapered sharply to a point and covered in soft, fine black fur, short and new as a month-old puppy's. ]
Did you not hear me? I said leave me be.
C. Wildcard
[ Nothing here quite fit? Have something specific in mind? Throw something up in the comments below or pm/pp me at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
ruddyowls if you have an idea you'd like to plot out or you want me to write you a starter! Anyone who knows Felix and would feasibly have a way to hear about his shift is welcome. ]
When: The 9th + The Following Days
Where: Blue Lions House
What: Felix's time out in the Wilde has hastened his transformation more than he expected.
Warnings: Possibly some body horror. More warnings as needed.
A. The Full Moon
[ It starts as an ache in his teeth, his nails, his very bones, even.
Felix is attuned to his own moods enough to know that something is off in the days leading up to the full moon, and this month brings with it an entirely different set of challenges from the last. He wheels from one emotional extreme to another fast enough to give himself whiplash—somber and withdrawn one moment, restless and agitated and pacing the floor of the ballroom-turned-training-hall the next.
He's a makeshift training dummy he constructed out of burlap and sandbags, stuffed with straw and nailed to a framework of wooden posts. He thrashes it with a wooden training sword until the burlap starts to fray at the edges and its straw insides scatter across the floor, and then he growls, and he keeps thrashing at it until he hits it hard enough that the dummy splinters and snaps at the base, and the top half collapses with a wooden thunk to the floor.
Weak, Felix thinks, and he growls. The sound comes out like nothing human—an animal's growl, low and bubbling in the back of his throat.
It startles him enough that he drops his training sword, and it hits the ground with a clatter.
Anyone Felix suspects might be about the house this evening receives a message shortly after, brief, blunt, and not at all explanatory. ]
Stay out of the cellar until dawn. The door is locked. Leave it that way.
Sylvain—if you've brought anyone over you plan on seeing a second time? Send them home.
B. The Aftermath
[ In the wake of the full moon and his transformation, Felix finds himself so exhausted he can barely muster the energy to crawl out of bed, much less hold a blade in his hand and go through the motions of his usual morning drills. And he hates it. He's never liked feeling sick, weak, small; he's never liked breaking his routine when he could be practicing, honing his skills, improving his footwork or his technique or whichever aspect of his swordplay he's found lacking on a given day.
He stays confined to his bedroom, door firmly shut, and visitors get little more than a short, sharp, leave me be when they knock. Unfortunately, it comes out more like a weak, raspy croak, because his voice has abandoned him entirely after his change. He knows why. He knows what it'll be like after it returns. He hated that thought, too.
But it's hardly the worst of his changes. There are still other reasons he doesn't want to see anyone, and those reasons are obvious the second anyone dares to crack the door and peak inside. Felix stays curled up in bed, bundled in his blankets, but the creak of a door is all it takes for an ear to flick upward—not a man's ear, but a beast's, tapered sharply to a point and covered in soft, fine black fur, short and new as a month-old puppy's. ]
Did you not hear me? I said leave me be.
C. Wildcard
[ Nothing here quite fit? Have something specific in mind? Throw something up in the comments below or pm/pp me at
B-ish, mentions of A
He does give him space, though, because right now, respecting his desires and needs is more important than giving in to his own impulses to fret over him.
He does respond to the message, briefly urges Felix to be careful and to take care of himself, but leaves it at that.
That said, once Felix's end of their bond settles down, once tumultuous Emotion is replaced with exhaustion, and Sylvain senses that Felix has moved from the cellar, he finally acts. He gives him a chance to rest, first, but after that he gathers something to eat for him out of the kitchen, makes him some tea and, despite Felix's distaste for sweets, does sweeten it with honey - his own throat is aching in sympathy, so he can only imagine what Felix must be feeling, and that combined with the warmth ought to help.
And then he does what he does best - ignores Felix telling him to go away, stepping into his room and shutting the door behind himself before crossing to the bed and sitting next to him, setting that little tray of tea and snacks on the bedside table for now.
It takes all his willpower to not call the puppy ear perking up cute, though Felix can probably feel the sentiment over their Bond.]
Rough night, huh? Sit up, I brought you tea and something to eat.
no subject
And, well, he knows Sylvain is coming because his sensitive ears can hear the floorboards squeaking all the way down the hall.
So he's not surprised, really, when Sylvain pushes the door open and slips inside anyway. He can smell the scent of food and something sweet wafting through the air the second the door cracks, and his stomach rumbles a loud and immediate protest that he's not leaping out of bed to eat something. The transformation drained him, and he's starving, but he doesn't want to come out. Not just yet.
The mattress dips and creaks under Sylvain's weight, and Felix's ears flatten against his skull entirely of their own volition, as beyond his ability to control now as his own moods. A low growl tries to bubble up in the back of his throat, but undeveloped vocal chords still somewhere between human and animal offer up only a raspy, broken noise that doesn't manage to sound threatening at all.
He pulls the blankets over his head, tucking his ears well out of sight. ]
You could've just left it at the door.
[ Felix whuffs quietly, and after another moment where Sylvain doesn't get up and leave, he rolls over and pushes himself upright—his comforter pulled over his head like a cloak, leaving only his face, tight-lipped and scowling, visible. His eyes have gone well and truly gold now—and there's an obvious swipe of claw marks across his nose, rendered by a moment of confusion and animal instinct mingled with frustrated pawing at an unfamiliar muzzle suddenly where his normal, human face should have been.
He has his human face now, but it's not entirely his old face anymore, and he hates it.]
Is it not enough humiliation that I completely lost control of myself? That I turned into some kind of a—thing? After all of that, I didn't want you to see me like this, too.
no subject
[Felix isn't wrong - he could have left the tea and food at the door, knocked to let him know it was there, and left. He knows - with no Bond required - that that's what Felix would have preferred, too. But he didn't. He wanted - needed - check on him personally, and so here he was.
And as Felix pushes himself up, shrouded in his comforter, he can't help but think he looks... well. He looks fine, relatively speaking, if one was to ignore the claw marks over his nose and the shift in eye color. He also distinctly resembles a much younger Felix, at the moment, pouting after being roughed up by Glenn, or pouting because he couldn't spar with anyone because he has a cold, so Sylvain is finding it more than a little difficult to not find the whole scene endearing.
It shouldn't be. Felix just went through a lot, but even so...]
See you like what, Felix? I've seen you worse off many times before, and if you're talking about the changes... I'd see them anyway sooner or later, right?
[He has a point. And he'll repeat it as much as he needs to until Felix feels... better? Maybe? About him seeing him like this.]
Now hold still for a second.
[But anyway - he reaches out to not-quite touch the scratch over his nose, taking a few lingering moments to heal it before dropping his hand.
Even if he does want to reach higher and pet those ears hiding under the blanket. There'll be time for that later.]
no subject
Felix blinks his eyes open, wrinkling his nose. When he reaches up to touch his face, he feels only new, unmarred skin. The cuts are gone. ]
...You're getting better at that.
[ It's an easy distraction from admitting that maybe Sylvain is right. What did he plan on doing, anyway? Hiding up here forever, keeping the changes to himself under wraps so Sylvain would never have to see them? Foolish. He knows that. He'd have to come out eventually, to train, or to eat, or just to get some fresh air. He'd never have lasted cooped up in this place; he's never been good at laying idle.
For a moment, he's stiff and quiet, hesitating to budge any further than he already has. But eventually, he reaches up to gingerly tug the blanket away from his face, letting it fall away about his shoulders. His hair is a tousled mess—he hasn't been able to figure out how to pull it back up now that his ears have changed position and shape so drastically. And the ears themselves, well, they raise maybe a fraction of an inch off his skull, quivering slightly. ]
I don't like them. I want my old, normal ears back.
[ If Sylvain thought he was pouting before, he's really pouting now—tight-lipped and frowning down at his lap, refusing to look him in the eyes. ]
no subject
...Maybe the worry was for nothing. Either way, he takes the compliment in stride and gives Felix a wink, because there's no way he's admitting he was concerned.
What he does do is let the silence drag on between them. There's a time to chatter on about everything and nothing, and there's a time to keep quiet, and this feels like the latter. He knows he's right, anyway, and he can tell that Felix is working on coming to terms with that in his own way.
He knows he's managed it when he pulls the blanket down off his head and lets his ears perk up somewhat. His hair is a mess, he's really pouting, and... well, Sylvain isn't all that helpful, because he kind of thinks they're cute, and is kind of wondering just what a headpat would do to Felix - or, worse, what petting behind those ears of his would do.
He gives in to the impulse somewhat - satisfies himself by leaning closer to reach out and run his fingers through Felix's hair, gently pulling out tangles and making it less of a tousled mess and more like himself.]
You'll get them back when we go home, Felix. Might as well get used to these, for now. Maybe they'll help you fight, once you are.
[A... small attempt to make it Not The Worst Thing - if only because he has a sneaking suspicion that worse is yet to come.]
no subject
But they're Bonded now, and he's had to get used to simple exchanges of energy through touch, so he doesn't pull away completely. He's found there's a constant thrum of magic around Sylvain's fingertips now, and this close to his ears it's a sharp buzz that makes him huff quietly and tilt his head. At least it's not an unpleasant sensation. He could easily go back to sleep like this.
No sooner has Sylvain carded out one of the tangled knots in his hair then there's a sudden thump-thump from the mattress behind him, and Felix freezes. The noise stops. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that that's, well, him. ]
Shit.
[ He reaches up and snags Sylvain's wrist, before, goddess forbid, he touches him again and that noise starts back up. ]
Listen, I know you heard that. Don't— [ He's half-choking on his words, totally ashamed of himself. ] —don't you dare say a word to anyone.
no subject
That would, in all likelihood, be more embarrassing for Felix than anything else.
But they are Bonded, and for once, Sylvain's habit of casual, affectionate touch has come in handy. The exchange of energy is always refreshing, and he's mostly used to the sensation of giving raw magic and receiving it back but... refined, in a way. It's nice.
He doesn't have much of a chance to dwell on the nature of casual affection before his attention is drawn by that very distinctive thump-thump from behind Felix, and if there was any doubt at all about what it was, the other's reaction is more confirmation than he could have ever asked for.]
Won't tell a soul.
[Anyone who ought to know deserves to see it for themselves, anyway...
What he can't quite stop is just how endearing he found it, or the grin that breaks out on his face as a result. Usually, casual affection - like carding knots out of his hair, for example - seemed like a surefire way to annoy Felix to no end. But... this was clear proof that at least part of him enjoyed it.
So these changes were annoying, but he can't find them all bad.]
Won't even tease you about it too much if you just relax and let me finish helping you out.
no subject
He wonders, briefly, if he's strong enough now to just pick Sylvain up and toss him out onto the landing.
He abandons that thought a moment later, and releases Sylvain's wrist with a gruff, irritated little noise, dropping his hands into his lap. One ear twitches, still attuned to his agitated state. ]
Fine. Just—get it over with, and don't make fun, alright?
[ The wafting scent of tea and food attracts his attention once more, and Felix, grateful for the distraction, reaches for the tray by his bedside, setting it on his lap.
He takes one sip of tea and immediately blanches. It's warm, and soothes some of the ache in his throat, but it's overwhelmingly saccharine. ]
What did you put in this? It's drowning in sugar.
no subject
He is probably strong enough to pick him up. Whether or not he's strong enough to toss him, or pry him off should he decide to cling is another issue entirely.]
Alright. I'll only tell you this once that they're pretty cute, actually.
[He's sure that'll upset him, but... better to tell him outright, instead of letting the sentiment drift over their Bond and work its way under Felix's skin. Best to get the annoyance out of the way now, too, when there are so many distractions in the form of food and drink and casual, gentle affection in the form of Sylvain resuming the effort to gently work tangles out of Felix's hair with his fingers.]
Not sugar. Honey. I know it's sweet, but it'll help your throat, so drink it while it's still warm, alright?
no subject
I'm not one of your girls, Sylvain. There's nothing cute about it.
[ It comes across as a simmering sort of irritation over their bond, but the effect is ruined and fragmented a moment later when Sylvain's fingers start to stroke through his hair again. That feeling simmers gradually down to nothing, until Felix finally decides to grudgingly sip from his teacup, accepting defeat.
...And then the tail slowly but surely starts thumping again. There's a flash of annoyance, on his face and across the bond, but he lets it be this time. ]
...Thank you. For this. [ Super stiff, but he's being sincere in his gratitude, and Sylvain can probably feel it. ]
no subject
I know you're not. I mean it, with you.
[Okay, so technically that probably counts as him telling Felix he's cute a second time. Regardless - it's a distinction that they rarely voice, but needs to be reaffirmed all the same before he lets it go entirely as he feels Felix's annoyance simmer down.
And as he hears that tail start thumping on the bed again. The flash of annoyance is met with a flash of fond amusement, but Sylvain lets that go, too.]
Of course. If you need - or want - anything else, let me know, alright?
[If there's anything he can do to make the transition even a little bit easier, he's more than willing to do it, and he hopes that tricky, complicated sentiment comes across loud and clear.]
no subject
But they've been here a month now, and he's had time to grow used to the idea that neither of them have their predestined futures hanging over their heads here. They've skirted that line once or twice. How hard would it be, he wonders, to cross it entirely?
Maybe he's overthinking it.
Felix shakes his head, frowning, finding somewhere else besides Sylvain to settle his eyes. He's definitely overthinking it. And he should put it from his mind before the mix of conflicted feelings in him becomes obvious from the other side. ]
I don't need anything, [ he mutters, and then takes a breath, because the next part isn't easy to admit, ] except company. It's easier when you're here, and I'm not stuck in my own head.
B. Mostly.
[Lorenz rapped on the door firmly once again before heaving a frustrated sigh. It was true that he didn't know Felix all that well, but the combination of the note, the moonphase, and the utter silence from the swordsman in the days following had left a distinct feeling of being unsettled deep in his gut. He knew from his own experiences the month before that dwelling on inevitability for too long did no one any favors.
It was for that reason that he hiked up the stairs, his footing firmer than it had been the month before, with a training sword in his hand.
He rapped on the door once more, before reaching for the handle.]
This is unlike you, Felix. I am coming in now.
[Because, from the little he did know of Felix, he was certain that putting a sword in his hands would be a good step to helping him regain a sense of normalcy.]
no subject
So he expects the knock on his door. He just doesn't expect Lorenz, as well-mannered as the man usually considers himself, to barge in.
So this is how Lorenz catches him unprepared, sitting bolt upright in the bed as the door clicks and swings open, ears flattened against his skull and a growl bubbling in his throat. ]
Didn't I tell you—
[ —is what he starts to say, but then his eyes fall to the blade in Lorenz's hands, and he cuts off, staring.
His expression—flat, irritated—gives away nothing, inscrutable as always. But the ears perk up, swiveling forward with all of a wolf's keen interest, telling on him as surely as if he'd said it outright. Felix doesn't seem to notice.
Eyes narrowed and suspicious, after a moment he ventures: ]
Do you even know how to use that thing?
no subject
[Lorenz hefted the wooden blade in his hand, testing it's weight and grip as he spoke. Propriety had it's place in every scenario, but there were times when being aware of the people involved carried more weight than simple politeness. From what he knew, the gruff swordsman didn't care overmuch for manners if they were unnecessary-- and, after watching Felix spend the better part of the week holed up in his room, Lorenz deemed manners to be unnecessary.
A direct approach, at times, yielded better results.
Looking Felix over, Lorenz understood the reason for the isolation. If the ears had shifted and developed fur, then likely other things had changed as well.]
I am no fool, Felix. While I prefer lances, I know how to at least hold a sword. My footing needs work, but that is a daily problem I'm working to remedy at the moment.
[Standing straighter, and mindful of where his antlers and the blade were in relation to the walls and the ceiling, Lorenz adjusted his footing and made a quick slashing motion as a test of it's weight.]
...Do you not think a quick spar will help you adjust to any changes in your senses and awareness that have come from this Moon?
no subject
And his blade strokes read as sharply determined, to boot. Felix recognizes he's not going to get Lorenz to leave without a sparring match. He tears his eyes away, uttering a gruff, irritated noise that comes out as more of a short, sharp animal snarl. ]
Fine, fine. Just let me get my coat.
[ It's hung on the end of the bedpost, and Felix reaches for it to tug it about his shoulders before he dares venture out of the bed—some things are obvious, but some things, Felix isn't yet ready to share.
If he's still a little weak and unsteady when he slides out of the bed and wanders across the room to fetch his training blade, he conceals it well enough—there's only the faintest drag to his step. ]
We're not sparring up here. There's plenty of space downstairs in the ballroom—if you can make it down as easily as you made it up on those hooves of yours.
no subject
[Blasted Moonbrain. Even several days out, the last threads of it lingered to smack him at inopportune times.
Frowning, Lorenz lowered the training blade and politely cast his gaze away as Felix righted himself in the darkened room. Whatever changes had come, they would be revealed soon enough anyway-- but Pride was a temperamental and fragile trait at the worst of moments and deserved it's due respect.]
It's no matter. We shall figure it out easily enough, [He said breezily, ears twitching at the halting cadence of Felix's step.] There are rails, at the very least.
no subject
But as he reaches the door, his eyes fall to Lorenz's hooves—and he sighs. ]
If I let you fall down the stairs and break your neck, I'll never hear the end of it.
[ He offers an elbow, the gesture stiff as Felix himself tends to be, not looking as he does. ]
You may use me for support going down. Just mind your balance, and don't make me fall with you.
no subject
[Please, Felix. The hooves may be new, but he had made great strides over the course of the month in regaining his balance. The half-hearted protest ended with those words, however, as Lorenz made note of Felix's own uncoordinated movements.
They both would have plenty to work on down stairs.]
...I'll accept, only if you allow me to watch out for you as well.
[A sigh.]
I never once imagined we would find our opponent to be an ordinary staircase.
no subject
He just, you know, didn't want to admit it to anyone. Especially not Lorenz.
After a moment, he grunts quietly. ]
—If you're going to insist, fine.
[ And not even an insult to punctuate. He jerks his head toward the stairs, shutting the bedroom door behind him. ]
I never expected to see you breathing again, but it seems surprises never cease in this city. Now come on, before I lose my patience with this.
no subject
Let us go, then.
[Lorenz said, grasping a hold of Felix's arm in a manner that was comfortable enough for the both of them. With Felix's solitary nature, nothing would be comfortable-- but it would Suffice.]
Allegations of my death were clearly exaggerated by whomever it is that writes our histories, Felix. But you're right; the surprises likely will never cease. We'll need to learn to shrug them off and keep moving forward.
no subject
[ He's not at his best, but he's prepared to shift to accommodate Lorenz's weight if he must once they take the stairs. And for all his talk of Lorenz handling his balance for himself, he sets a surprisingly slow, steady pace—not so slow as to be grandmotherly, but slow enough that Lorenz can hopefully manage when they crest the top of the stairs and begin their descent.
Luckily, the stairs are broad, and their slope gradual enough neither of them should have much trouble. ]
There's no point in dwelling on the past. It can't be changed. It can't be fixed.
[ There's a firm note to his voice, a steady gaze straight ahead.]
The only thing we hold power over is the future, to which the past only serves as a distraction—ah, watch your step. This one's a little higher around the middle landing.
no subject
[Attentive to the warning, Lorenz did watch his step-- and avoided the fate of many deer which involved getting their antlers stuck on sundry inconvenient obstacles.]
But, no. I agree. There's no changing the past... however, there's no reason to let it bind us while we are here either.
[He glanced over, curious about Felix's reaction. This mentality of his was not garnered from anyone nor anything besides his own understanding of the world. The past provided ample lessons for them to learn, but they still had the freedom to make their own choices.
It was, in many ways, the only true freedom they had in any reality.]
no subject
[ He can sense the direction of this conversation, and he averts his eyes, exhaling sharply through his nose. He's already agreed not to cause trouble for the Emperor or her friends, but that doesn't mean he wants to go to tea with them, either, no matter how much Lorenz plans on wheedling him about it.
The second they reach the lower level of the house, Felix shrugs Lorenz off his arm and stalks more than anything down the hall to his left toward the former ballroom, leaving the faun to fend for himself on even ground. ]
I've never been bound by the past. [ At least, that's what he tells himself, while his ears twitch in apparent agitation. He's not prepared to admit yet that all his training is still driven in part by a desire to best someone he'll never get the chance to duel again. ] But I'm not going to be bound by anyone's expectations here, either. Can you not just leave it be?
no subject
[Lorenz said primly, looking at Felix with quiet confusion written on his features. Out of everyone, Lorenz felt that Felix was one of the ones who understood what Lorenz was working toward. Cooperation was all he asked-- not necessarily friendship between everyone.
But the continued references to his own passing in Felix's history was uncomfortable. While Lorenz accepted it as a fair possibility, that didn't mean he was fond of the idea.
It meant that he had failed in all of his plans.]
All I was suggesting is that we see each other as we are right here and now, not the versions of each other that we have in our memories. I know for a fact that you are not the Felix that came to the Alliance seeking answers and purpose in the aftermath of everything that happened over the course of the last five years; Likewise, I am not that person who was manipulated onto the battlefield by machinations that were beyond his reach to ultimately be felled by someone who had been akin to a friend in another time.
[Hefting the training sword in his hand, Lorenz stepped onto the platform of the makeshift training hall that Felix had seen constructed.]
...We both seek a sense of control, correct? Let us find it here.
no subject
He doesn't answer right away, his expression tight and distant while he warms up, and in the silence, a bright and querulous prrp?—Leonie, not the person but the cat, pads silently into the hall, bright red tail straight up in the air like a waving banner. She bounds up into the center window and seats herself in the sunlight, slow-blinking back and forth between the both of them.
Felix watches her for a moment, and then, with a sigh, shrugs off his cloak and tosses it aside. His own tail isn't nearly so elegant—a scraggly, stubby thing not yet fully grown out. ]
So long as you can see me as myself, and no one and nothing else, I suppose I can return the favor.
[ The training blade spins in his hand—and then, without warning, Felix lunges, sparing no force in a cleaving diagonal swing at Lorenz's shoulder. ]
Show me how well you fight here, Lorenz.
no subject
Because, in truth, he was only passable with a sword if it was his only option. While he had some skill, what he knew was nowhere near even the level of his skills with a polearm. Matching Felix's level was not even a possibility.
But, that wasn't the point.]
Very well, Felix. Show me how you handle yourself now.
[And, with that, he made to strike.]
no subject
These last few days idle haven't robbed him of his abilities, either; he catches Lorenz's blade on his own and twists, letting it slide off easily to one side, giving him opening to maneuver. ]
Watch those ears, Lorenz— [ He growls, flashing a grin that shows his canines are growing a little longer, and he angles his blade to jab to the left of Lorenz's head, close enough to graze him. ] —else you might leave with a new piercing.
no subject
Barely dodging the training blade as it whizzed past his head, grazing the barest tips of an ear and the long strands of hair that he had left loose, Lorenz couldn't help but break into a grin.]
It would be a badge I'd wear with pride.
[He said, seizing the proximity between them to make another attempt at an attack-- however ordinary it was.]
no subject
If the ridiculous, stubby tail he's acquired from his ordeal starts to thrash, it's got nothing to do with him, or with the grin on his face. ]
Why settle for a badge of failure? Come on—
[ Felix rotates his blade, sending Lorenz's next blow skidding off the edge of it, and then he takes a step and a half back, throwing wide an opening. Come at him, Lorenz. ]
—try harder this time.
no subject
[The opening was too obvious, Felix. Lorenz cast the swordsman a wry, amused look before side stepping and taking a shot at Felix's side with a teasing smile playing on his lips. The viceral glee he read in Felix's eyes
and in the wagging of that stubby little tailwas worth every taunt, every blow.Because sometimes just getting back to work was the best form of comfort and counsel a person could get.]
It's not failure, Felix. [He added, gamely using his words, his 'dirty' moves, to his advantage. No one cared for the rules on the battlefield-- ultimately, war was not pretty. So long as non-combatants were not caught in the mess and sadistic behavior was not exposed, anything was allowable when death was on the line.] It's just finding yet another way of not succeeding.
no subject
He chuckles. ]
If that's you're way of saying you're letting me win, [ There's a glint of mischief in his eyes, and rather than push back this time, Felix lets his blade glance harmlessly off Lorenz's and twists to the outside of the sweep—effectively allowing Lorenz's own momentum to keep going, maybe throw him off balance. ] don't.
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[Graceful enough to catch his own footing before he careened into a wall, Lorenz pivoted on his hooves with an obviously practiced grace. He still wasn't as fluid as he would have liked, but that would come in time.
He merely grinned at Felix.]
We both know that wouldn't do either of us any good.
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You're right, [ He says, and there's something thoughtfully bemused in his voice as he straightens, letting the point of his blade drop down toward the floor. ] it wouldn't.
[ The intended purpose of this little duel has become fairly obvious to him now, and he can't say he's ungrateful. ]
...Your balance is better than it was by far. You should consider using the power in your new legs to your advantage in a fight. They'll serve you well—put more force behind your blows if you handle yourself right.
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[He had done some research into the anatomy for his own peace of mind-- as Fauns were prone to leg troubles if they weren't careful. It amused him to know that some of the leg bones were referred to as 'cannons', and he wondered how much of that could be applied on a practical level.
Shifting his weight, Lorenz offered Felix a sly grin before he lunged off of his hooves. The drop in his center of gravity-- though not significant enough to get an edge over Felix, who even ordinarily was a good deal shorter than he was-- made it easier to use the metaphorical 'cannons' in his legs.
He hadn't expected this; distantly, he wondered if Felix did.]
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But that momentary drop in his guard for the sake of lecturing costs him, because a second later, Lorenz takes off like a shot, powered by the force in his cloven hooves.
Felix yelps, a sound half-animal, and swings his blade up to meet the blow. Lorenz hits him hard enough to rattle his blade and his teeth both, and a second later he's flat on his back on the wood floor, breathless and blinking up at the vaulted ceiling trying to figure out what just happened.
And then he draws his forearm across his face and cackles. ]
You're—ha—a quick learner, I'll give you that.
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Naturally. Would you expect less of me?
Here. Being on the ground like that isn't a good look for you, even if you do seem much better than you were a short while ago.
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Please, you earned it. Just don't get used to the sight.
[ Felix takes Lorenz's hand, this time trusting the man's balance on his hooves enough to allow him to pull him upright. When he's on his feet once more, he stoops to pick up his blade.
He may have lost, but he can't say it particularly stings—physically, maybe, but emotionally he's all pleasant surprise and a sense of quiet satisfaction. ]
Remember that move. It will serve you well—particularly when I decide to demand a rematch.
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I will, and I have you to thank for it.
Shall we have a rematch in the future, the next time we have too much energy to work off? That was... invigorating.
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[ And Felix simply nods. He's not one for sweeping bows as part of these exchanges, but he can at least acknowledge the gesture in his own way.
Speaking of which. ]
For now, I'll just offer you a cup of tea. I'm sure we have something in the pantry besides pine needles.