their punches. Not the same as fighting a real warrior!” Snarling, Heero showed fiercely and drove his lighter adversary away from him, breaking the lock and gaining several feet of space. “I don’t see a real warrior here,” he growled. “Just a pretentious little court flirt who likes to play with swords.” “Oi! Is that all you see me as?” Duo exclaimed, affecting an air of wounded feelings. “Small, maybe -- in the bones, I think -- and flirt, yes, but hardly effete!” He circled around Heero, holding himself back warily, searching for the opportunity to strike. “What would you call that useless braid, then?” Heero sneered, motioning slightly with the tip of the sword to follow the tail’s motion as it twitched behind him. “No real warrior would keep something so frivolous and impractical. It’s nothing more than a weakness!” “You don’t want to touch this braid,” Duo announced, feinting in briefly before darting away again. “I’m very attached to it. A weakness? Maybe, maybe. Some things are worth the risk. That’s a good lesson to learn.” “I hardly need any lessons --” Heero snarled, before launching into his own attack -- “from you!” His sword crashed against Duo’s again, the force of his momentum carrying them both back several steps. Now it was Heero’s turn to press the offensive, his own thrusts and slashes lacking Duo’s lightning-quick speed, but more than compensating in sheer power. Duo blocked every stroke, but the jarring force of the blows half-numbed his arms, and when Heero suddenly changed direction and sliced upwards towards him from the side, he had to twist and dart clear. The long rope of chestnut hair flashed suddenly into Heero’s face, momentarily blinding him. Infuriated, rather than immediately pressing his attack, Heero grabbed for the braid, intending to immobilize his slippery opponent. His hand closed on the braid, and instantly something clamped around his own wrist. There was no time to react before the world twisted sideways and Heero found himself flat on his back on the ground. Duo stood at guard a few feet away; Heero’s sword lay on the ground between them. He raised his head, slowly, not willing to believe that he had actually been defeated. A collective gasp ran through the spectators, and Rashid took a startled step forward before Quatre grabbed his arm, forcing him to a stop. The outlaw still had his own sword, and he was too close to Heero. The collective expression on the faces of the Sweepers was one of great satisfaction; Maxwell looked more smug than
Re: Tenku no GUNDAM
Date: 2006-02-21 06:46 am (UTC)Snarling, Heero showed fiercely and drove his lighter adversary away from him, breaking the lock and gaining several feet of space. “I don’t see a real warrior here,” he growled. “Just a pretentious little court flirt who likes to play with swords.”
“Oi! Is that all you see me as?” Duo exclaimed, affecting an air of wounded feelings. “Small, maybe -- in the bones, I think -- and flirt, yes, but hardly effete!” He circled around Heero, holding himself back warily, searching for the opportunity to strike.
“What would you call that useless braid, then?” Heero sneered, motioning slightly with the tip of the sword to follow the tail’s motion as it twitched behind him. “No real warrior would keep something so frivolous and impractical. It’s nothing more than a weakness!”
“You don’t want to touch this braid,” Duo announced, feinting in briefly before darting away again. “I’m very attached to it. A weakness? Maybe, maybe. Some things are worth the risk. That’s a good lesson to learn.”
“I hardly need any lessons --” Heero snarled, before launching into his own attack -- “from you!” His sword crashed against Duo’s again, the force of his momentum carrying them both back several steps. Now it was Heero’s turn to press the offensive, his own thrusts and slashes lacking Duo’s lightning-quick speed, but more than compensating in sheer power. Duo blocked every stroke, but the jarring force of the blows half-numbed his arms, and when Heero suddenly changed direction and sliced upwards towards him from the side, he had to twist and dart clear. The long rope of chestnut hair flashed suddenly into Heero’s face, momentarily blinding him. Infuriated, rather than immediately pressing his attack, Heero grabbed for the braid, intending to immobilize his slippery opponent.
His hand closed on the braid, and instantly something clamped around his own wrist. There was no time to react before the world twisted sideways and Heero found himself flat on his back on the ground. Duo stood at guard a few feet away; Heero’s sword lay on the ground between them.
He raised his head, slowly, not willing to believe that he had actually been defeated. A collective gasp ran through the spectators, and Rashid took a startled step forward before Quatre grabbed his arm, forcing him to a stop. The outlaw still had his own sword, and he was too close to Heero. The collective expression on the faces of the Sweepers was one of great satisfaction; Maxwell looked more smug than