"ow," he says rather anticlimactically, eyebrow raised and lips quirked in amusement at their predicament. she'd come here to witness an animal come alive, but as of now? he was under no threat. she was a nobody, nothing. she could fight, surely, but so far?
[break][break]
she exhibited nothing of the dragon aforementioned.
[break][break]
the knee comes up to his stomach, and he deflects it with the flat of his forearm. the blunt force impact spreads across the thin area, and it's painful, but not enough to stagger him in anyway. instead, he follows up with a swift, well-aimed fist to her gut.

[attr="class","ooc"]freya morningstar[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-lucario"]

he deflects easily. frustration wells but before she can rebuttal and use that to her advantage, he's knocked the air out of her. she doubles over reflexively and snarls as her eyes water. but what really stings is the look of sheer rand utter boredom on his face as he dominates her. 

so she tucks and rams her shoulder into his chest. arms come up to wrap around him and her fingers tighten against his sides. 

☉

in the face of her defiance, he only laughs. it's rough, gutteral, mocking and amused all in one go. she rams her shoulder into him, but it's entirely in anger. king accepts the blow, feeling the crashing weight but pushing past it, as he moves his own arms to wrap around her head.
[break][break]
"ye know, with a little pressure, i can have yer neck bendin' far enough to get just as good a look at yer ass as i do right now." he gives his own little viewing from here, a small whistle escaping.
[break][break]
"it's a good view, i can tell ye that."

[attr="class","ooc"]freya morningstar[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-lucario"]

evidently what he doesn't count on is her other training. while she may not be a prodigy in hand to hand, she's more of a contortionist than he seems to realize. aerial acrobatics is her specialty and her morning katas have kept her limber. 

both in body and mind. 

so she does not panic as arms encircle around her. instead, she snorts, throws the rest of her weight and her momentum forward. legs come off the ground, knees and ankles crossing above him, thighs squeezing his cheeks. 

"shut up," she spits halfway through the swing. 

☉

his eyebrows widen, all hints of amusement gone from his face for a second, then he's sprawled ass over backwards onto the mat. king lays there for a moment, arms splayed out like a dead pidgeot, before he blinks and laughs.
[break][break]
"well fuck me," he says, kicking himself to his feet with surprisingly agility, "that wasn't half bad." turning his head left, and then right, he works out any kinks.
[break][break]
"not how i expected ta find my head 'teween yer legs though." he grins, clicking his tongue. "suppose it's my turn then, ye?"
[break][break]
a second delay.
[break][break]
then he charges her.

[attr="class","ooc"]freya morningstar[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-lucario"]

"funny," she says as she tucks, rolling on the floor to spring back up to her feet. "that's how i always saw it." she narrows her eyes at him, swallows. her every muscle tense, fight or flight response bubbling back to the surface. something primal. something savage. and she sees the same in him, in his deadened eyes, wide-smirk-mask. 

but his anger doesn't whip about him like a tornado. it contains every travesty imaginable, wrangled and forced and tamed, ruled with a precision she can only hope to emulate. 

he charges and at first she goes to take it head on, like a bulwark, like lyune, but instead she whips to the side, fingers digging into his shoulder to use his own momentum against him and spin him out. 

KING WAYLAND

☉

it was a good plan - or, it would've been, if king was actually intent on keeping his momentum. feinting his charge, he comes to a near dead-stop as she reaches for him, and he responds in kind, fingers wrapping around her smaller wrist. while his left hand pulls her arm out, and past him, the other forms into a fist, and he rasps his knuckles against her ribs. hard.
[break][break]
"we gotta get on the same page," he starts, and provided his attack worked, she'd be a little out of breathe, "seems like we both want the same thing, but have trouble gettin' there tagether, y'know?"
[break][break]
if things went to plan, he'd carry on the momentum. still holding out her other arm, like half a cruxifiction, he grabs her mouth with the other.
[break][break]
"do better."

[attr="class","ooc"]freya morningstar[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-lucario"]

and there goes another punch to her gut. she keels into him, toes curling, blinking away tears from the pain that lances through her back, down her spine. her breath wheezes out of her, but she still manages to catch his taunts, as rasped as they are against her ear. 

his hand covers her mouth and she's flung back to that moment in the baths, body lost to a hunger not her own, the primal pulsing of a deity belonging to another, whispering to her to free him, to free his corruption. but her senses are still her own here in this moment and all she gets is sweat and salt and the smell of something undeniably human. 

she narrows her eyes at him. you want to play dirty? fine. 

she strikes with an open hand, her one arm still free, and reaches right for his crotch. 

and then she snickers against his palm. and twists. 

KING WAYLAND

☉

there's satisfaction in a fight like this. with nothing to hide behind, other than your own skill, or talent, or cunning, you're truly splayed open for your opponent to see. here, it was just as much mental, as it was physical. and that's how he preferred it.
[break][break]
her silence in the wake of his taunts is expected. with each passing second, he was pushing more and more into her comfort zone, and gearing himself up further and further into the fight. neither was giving their 100%, they both knew, but that was the beauty of something like this. the build up. the gradual drive up to a beautiful crescendo.
[break][break]
the blow forces him to shift his weight to his heels, but he leans into her, fingers squeezing around her pudgy cheeks. it was a mistake, considering her next move. an instinctive threat pulses as her hand reaches for his jewels, and right as she twists, his rage flares.
[break][break]
it's there for a moment, fleeing as quick as it appeared, but king couldn't hide it. but it's enough. it guides him to a course of action that he otherwise wouldn't have, and for good reason. it was painful.
[break][break]
his hand lowers to grip her neck, and in a shift of movement that has his thigh and leg pushing out, partly to escape her grip, but also to carry his plan further, her places it behind her leg and pushes. hard.
[break][break]
a modified choke-slam that carried his full weight and aggression.

[attr="class","ooc"]freya morningstar[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-lucario"]

with this, they grow ever closer. he'd asked for his hands on him and this is what he fucking gets. so she snickers as pain contorts his face, as she watches the monster finally bubble to the surface. it spills over, cascading as he stoppers her breath, threatens her death. momentum carries her up and she's hanging, toes leaving the earth, air expelled from her lungs. 

her cheeks go red and her hold is loosened as she's ripped away from him. the world comes rushing up to meet her. shoulders slam painfully into the ground and, unpracticed as she is, her teeth chatter, clipping her tongue. blood gurgles up and she has to twist her face to the side so she doesn't choke. 

"you mother-" she starts in a very un-freyalike way, but her back twinges and the curse tapers off into a pained hiss. 

she shoots a fist up wildly in an attempt to clip his face and get him the fuck off of her so she can return the favor. 

KING WAYLAND

☉

her strike's aim is true, clipping him wildly on the chin. it was like trying to topple a skyscraper with a snowball. he pulls back slightly, fumbling and fussing to grab her other arm and drape it uncomfortable over her body, all while keeping pressure on her neck.
[break][break]
he leans close, teeth flashing and spittle dripping from an twisted grin.
[break][break]
"tap."
[break][break]
or sleep.
[break][break]
he doesn't include the last part. the blood-pressure in her skull was the only truth she'd need.

[attr="class","ooc"]freya morningstar[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-lucario"]

tap. but she won't go out like a coward. dashed against rocks, body broken, limp and bleeding, half-dead monster dragging her down, down, down/up, up, up. into shadow and fear and lost to madness. her vision darkens here and there, again she sees their eyes - haunting and smiling wickedly. 

give in. tap out. 

light and its beckoning and then he goes and does the thing that really breaks her. dying. and she's so angry at him. so angry for promising her the world, that everything will be alright. 

back to shadows, but these are tinged pink. 

she snarls up at her adversary. pink mist dribbles out from the corner of her mouth and she begets a visage of a rabid animal, sputtering and choking against anything it can. she bucks. nature's madness coalesces and gives her renewed strength. 

she writhes under him, arm slipping free, and rakes her nails down the arm that pins her down. 

KING WAYLAND

☉

against her thrashing, angry body, he sees a shadow fall over her eyes. a ghost; a specter; a wraith, her anger displaced, and centered on something. it wasn't him. then there's the fucking mist again - or whatever the hell it was - filtering past his face and dispersing somewhere behind him.
[break]
[break]
she bucks, strength renewed, her nails clawing at his scarred flesh. his grip tightens around her throat, pressing her airway closed even further. his breathe comes hot, quick and heavy, as rage pulses to the tune of his heartbeat. his voice comes even more guttural and rage-filled, a rising crescendo of emotion.
[break]
[break]

"TAP."

[attr="class","ooc"]freya morningstar[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-lucario"]