animus_network | [video/txt]- A restless Nord

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[video/txt]- A restless Nord

[Over the last few weeks Brunwulf had become increasingly restless. He wanted a fight. A sparring session with someone at least. His Nord blood demanded that he fight with someone to hone his skills, which were going to waste in this place. Aye, he had Floor Thirty Two to hunt and things, but sparring with another man would be better. He narrowed his eyes into the screen, as he sent his message.]

I am in need of some fighting action within this tower of torture. Would anyone wish to spar with me? With either blade or fists, I do not mind. A fist fight would be welcomed, as I have not had one of those for many moons. If anyone wishes to take up the challenge, meet me on Floor Thirty Two. This is where I often go to hunt and practice my blade skills.

[He wondered if anyone would be man enough to challenge him. Or perhaps a strong woman might even challenge him. Who knew?]

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[His move indeed. Brunwulf steeled himself for the next lot of punches he was about to deal out. He cracked his knuckles and smirked. He wasn't going to be beaten by this man.

He side stepped to the left, before letting off a volley of quick, powerful punches to Sephiroth's arms and chest area.]

[One. Two. Forearms Shudder. Three. Fou-

There is an audible crack as Sephiroth turns and Brunwulf's powerful meaty fist meets head on with his right forearm. Pain blossoms instantly and is accompanied with a gasp as Sephiroth steps back and away from Brumwulf, keeping more of his guard up on the left side to block the punches that may keep coming.]

[Brunwulf heard and felt the crack against Sephiroth's forearm. He never intended to break the man, just test him. He did smirk slightly though. The Nord felt pride rise up in his chest for one brief moment, before steeling himself for the other man's next move.]

Are you injured?

[The fact that the Nord stopped in his attack tells of the polite arrangement here; it's a spar only, not a real fight. This satisfies Sephiroth, he'd not engage in a real fight on a powerless floor (as far as he could help it)

As it was he took a few seconds to take two deeper breaths in, and rub his forearm gingerly. He flexes the fingers of that hands carefully; if it had been broken then he couldn't have moved them. Then flashes Brunwulf a smirk.]

Just another bruise to the ego-mostly.

[Then he resets both his stance and his guard. A second later he'd be in close to Brunwulf again, offering a series of jab-jab attacks which he dodges from one side to the other with to avoid a counter.

His intention to get close enough to hook a booted leg behind one of the Nord's while punching forwards - a trip tactic.]

Hmph. [The large Nord snorted at Sephiroth's reply. The man's ego nearly matched his own. Brunwulf goes to try and place the taller man off balance, as he places a few well-aimed punches at his forearms and elbows. He never saw the boot coming to trip him, as he cried out and felt his balance fail him.

The huge Nord went tumbling over, as he growled and held his arms over his face, in case of punches from above.]

[Those last few jabs before hooking his boot around were shakier than he'd like on account of Brunwulf's counter punches to his arms. They were just starting to ache from the continued assaults when suddenly the bulkier mass of his opponent vanished back and crashed to the floor beneath him.

Sephiroth paused for a moment to consider continuing his attack, but then instead offered a hand in offering to assist the Nord to get back on his feet.

It would be a question of the other mans pride indeed, whether he took the offering or used it to his advantage. The test being Sephiroth's intention.]

[Brunwulf felt like smacking the hand away but thought better of it. He took the hand and gave a sharp nod to the general. This was a battle between friends not enemies.

He brushed himself down then prepared for the next lot of volleys.]

[One with the size such as the Nord takes an additional hand at his elbow to help to lever him back to his feet. Not that Sephiroth doesn't have the strength, just not the right leverage in his stance to start with. He'd half expected the Nord to neglect his offered hand.]

Two out of three?

[Sephiroth suggests, clearly indicating he's got one up on the Nord already, as he himself steps back, wipes a line of sweat from his forehead with the back of a leathered fist and then brings his arms back up again into their ready position.

Perhaps his suggestion will rub just enough salt to get the Nord to start pre-emptively-]

[The Nord just grunted and furrowed both his brows. He wasn't going to let this man wan against him. He buried his pride under his ego and hoped the next lot of blows would strike true.]

It would seem so. You are skilled, yet no one bests a Nord in combat. [Brunwulf readied himself, then let a flurry of strong punches towards Sephiroth's chest area and began to use my force towards the punches.]

[That bruised forearm crumpled under the second strike even as Sephiroth fought to try to turn into and against the force of the Nord's blows. To try and redirect some of the momentum rather than having it all shake at his guard.

Strike three and four both knock Sephiroth's arms wide open and strike five connects squarely in the window of his chest. His breath knocked away Sephiroth manages to take a step back before crashing to a knee, one hand at his chest while he fights for his breath back. The other hand at the ground to hold his balance.]

[Brunwulf grunted at each strong punch he was aiming towards the lighter man. He wanted to see a weakness, a chink in the armour he could strike at. The punch to his chest caused the Nord to smile in achievement. He looked down at the man and frowned, before smiling softly.]

Up you get. [He offered a rough hand to Sephiroth and hoped the taller man would take it.]

[Persistence, powerlessness and an already weakened forearm won Brunwulf his window and the silvered warrior is still heaving for breath as the Nord approaches him to first admire his handiwork and then offer the hand in much the same way that Sephiroth had himself.

Doesn't stop it being bitter though but at least it's adhering to some unspoken etiquette that they have in this fight. After a pause, a few deeper breaths, Sephiroth does take the large hand and hauls himself to his feet.

His chest still blossoms with thudding pain as the pressure of the winding strike works it's way through his too-human condition, and Sephiroth tries hard not to hunch over with it. If he could, he might have asked the Nord to give him a moment, but he's not sure his pride could really take it. It's obvious he's still recovering.]

[Brunwulf can see that his punch did more damage than he had thought. The taller man was obviously still in pain. The Nord was pleased that his punch had strike true but he wasn't out to kill the man.]

Do you need more time to recover? [He wiped some sweat from his forehead, as he met the gaze of the other man.]

[A blood-spattered chuck of spittle is expelled to one side with a slight turn away as well. Though Sephiroth wipes his mouth then with the back of a leathered hand again and coughs the last of the winding away. It wasn't a fatal blow by any means, though he really doesn't want to have to take a blow like that again. He can die much easier on this floor.]

Let's go.

[His voice sounds clogged a bit with the last of his passing difficulty to breath. Curling arms in and upwards once more.]

[Brunwulf nodded and readied himself for the next round. He was beginning to lag himself, feeling a dull ache spread throughout his arm muscles.]

If you are not able to fight, I will not see you as weak to give in.

I'm fine. [He insists, stubborn as ever not to back down from a fight he still feels strong enough to participate in. Despite the hot sensation still coiled around his diaphragm and the slight nausea starting to eat at the corners of his vision.

Sephiroth swallows it all back and then comes in with a new, more rabid series of quick jabs at Brunwulf.]

If you say so. [The Nord shrugged and immediately began defending himself against the next lot of quick jabs. He aimed to block them with his strong forearms and elbows, yet the man was fast.]

[Despite not being a trained boxer at all, Sephiroth's breath comes out in the quick hisses as he continues the sprint against Brunwulf's defense.

For sure though, his knuckles are now starting to ache and throb from their use in the fight. He's also, admit it or not, starting to tire. Damn powerless floors of this Tower.

Any window presented is taken, as Sephiroth draws in close and aims a knee up and underneath the Nord's wall of strong forearms.]

[Brunwulf grunted, as he took the full force of Sephiroth's jabs. He was beginning to tire himself, as a brawl would not nearly take this long. Either opponent would be down on their knees by now, not still taking and receiving hits.

Yet, the Nord persevered. He wasn't going to show any weakness to this man. Brunwulf felt the knee penetrate his armed defence above his chest and grunted. He staggered back slightly, but counter attacked with a volley of strong punches to the general's forearms.]

[Why he hadn't monopolized on the knee that curled around the edge of the Nord's defense Sephiroth would look back on this and wonder. He could have won this spar with a follow up kick and that would have been the end to it.

As it was, Brunwulf's counter met not with forearms this time; Sephioth turned his stance some and the fists impacted again and again with the meat of the side of his bicep. the first handful his stance held but but around the fifth the impact was knocking his defense too much with the momentum. The long silver haired monster backed up significantly and paused before lowering his guard.

He bowed his head slowly, not even blinking in case of a further attack. He trusts no one, after all.]

I'm sure you'll agree neither of us needs any more lasting damage.

Aye. So, you are giving up, friend? [Brunwulf breath came out heavy and spent, yet his still had fire burning in his heart. He felt a victorious smile spread over his rugged features. Had he beaten this man?]

If you do not wish to continue, we will not. [He slapped a strong hand onto Sephiroth's back.]

[The rather satisfied expression Sephiroth's face had for just a moment drops immediately into a scowl at Brunwulf's words. How dare this man accuse him of giving up. Of not having the necessary strength or stamina to finish this fight. Of being weaker than him.]

Hmph.

[Sephiroth forces his battered forearms back up into his guard, fully expecting to carry on. Yet then the other comes close and slapped him strongly on the back. Perhaps it wasn't such an insult after all, to lose to one who indeed shows him some fraction of the respect he deserves. The arms are dropped once more.]

Not giving up. Tactically retreating.

[He corrects. After all, he couldn't allow himself to die again. Much less on this floor where he had died before on account of the same nagging problem - the lack of access to his more superhuman abilities.]

Wise words, Sephiroth. [Brunwulf did not know if the man was giving up because he knew he could not win or that he was regaining what honour he had left. Either way, the Nord excepted the man's response.]

Our brawl was a good one. You fought well. [He offered a hand to shake.] Perhaps we could share a drink or two after this?

[It seemed accepted, better to leave it at that. No matter how it had irritated his sense of ego.

It can been a good fight, of that there was no question and so Sephiroth took the meaty hand in his and shook only once before stepping back. No trickery, no masculine extra squeezing at the same time; Sephiroth has no need for such.]

I think not. I neither indulge in such a pastime, nor have any wish to take the risk with any beverage this place can provide.

Until next time then.

[Sephiroth nodded once more, almost turning the gesture into a slight dip in a bow towards his opponent. Before taking a few more steps back and finally turning away.]

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[video/txt]- A restless Nord

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