|
|
Post by Marcus Prasad on Mar 13, 2013 17:40:19 GMT -8
"I was unaware round one was over."
Marcus said with a smirk, echoeing her previous words back at her. He would love to, unfortunatly there was something about getting into a sparring match with a woman who was not only pregnant but with the children of Mathew Amtrum.
"I have an idea though if your up for it."
Shooting straight up onto his feet, Marcus reached his hands up high and stretched.
"You wanna improve your marksmanship right? Well I always followed the school of thought that live targets made better incentive."
Without explaining himself, the man casualy strolled over to a nearby tree, reached up and plucked an apple before leaning his back against it and putting the apple upon his head.
"Well? Take your best shot."
He teased with a mischivious smile.
Was Marcus crazy? Yeah kinda. Did he believe Bastille would actualy try to hit him? Probably.
Was he scared?
No.
With his arms crossed over his muscular chest, Marcus simply stood there and waited.
|
|
|
|
Post by Bastille Amtrum on Mar 13, 2013 21:12:57 GMT -8
Bastille....rather confused on this turn sighed. THATS WHAT SHE GETS FOR TELLING PEOPLE SHE WAS PREGNANT. They suddenly realized she was a female. But Bastille rose to the challenge, walking over and taking up the bow and an arrow. She pointed and aimed...
|
|
|
|
Post by Marcus Prasad on Mar 13, 2013 23:22:10 GMT -8
She didn't seem too happy with this turn of events which was just too bad for her then! Besides, most people would have killed for the chance to loose arrows on him, and here he was letting her do it for free!
"Well common!"
He taunted her with an impressive imitation of her accent.
"I haven't got all day here luv."
|
|
|
|
Post by Bastille Amtrum on Mar 15, 2013 12:07:16 GMT -8
"In gods name, what have you done to your voice?" She said with a smirk- ignoring how good it was. Quickly she released the arrow so it narrowly missed his cheek and planted into the tree, and quickly she released the bow and followed the arrow hoping to press her sword clean up against his throat.
|
|
|
|
Post by Marcus Prasad on Mar 16, 2013 1:41:30 GMT -8
Marcus winced as the arrow thunked into the tree so close to his cheek that he could feel his beard scruff burn from the friction. This was about the point that Bastille began her run on Marcus. Seeing this, he did the only thing any rational human being would do! He tipped his head forward, letting the apple roll off and land in his hand before sending it straight at the young british woman with a flick of his wrist, hoping to distract her long enough to pluck the arrow from the tree. It wasn't much for a sword, but he had already proven what he could do with a stick.
|
|
|
|
Post by Bastille Amtrum on Mar 16, 2013 1:51:47 GMT -8
Bastille sliced the apple in half, her eyes never leaving him as she did so. But he did have time to grab the arrow, narrowly. Shed close in and her sword would go still to the throat if it could- the arrow possibly being in the way. Meanwhile her leg would go quickly to jam itself into his stomach.
|
|
|
|
Post by Marcus Prasad on Mar 16, 2013 2:10:36 GMT -8
Marcus found himself pressed back against the tree, a slender blade at his throat, but not before having speared both halves of the apple Bastille had cut in half onto the tip of the arrow he had snatched.
With an impish grin, he slowly extended the top of the arrow towards bastille, obviously offering her a half of the apple. Or she could take both for all he cared. Most likely he assumed she would slap the thing out of his hand though and judging by her actions so far, he calculated that the latter was the most likeliest to happen.
|
|
|
|
Post by Bastille Amtrum on Mar 16, 2013 12:35:41 GMT -8
Bastille took to staring at it for a second, keeping herself poised and ready- but her expression returned to bored.
"See, the problem with that is- I know where my sword has been" She said staring at the apple.
|
|
|
|
Post by Marcus Prasad on Mar 17, 2013 3:27:33 GMT -8
{OOC} I know the sword's location is abit of a stretch. Lemme know if you have an issue with it. {OOC}
"Ppppfffffft. Fine, be that way."
Making a big show of pulling an apple slice off the arrow, he slowly moved his foot under the hilt of the sword that Bastille had lent him. When it was knocked from his hand, it landed here which was why Marcus picked this particular tree in the first place.
At the same time as taking a bite from the slice, his foot would flick up, sending the sword into the air where he would reach out, hoping to catch it deftly and knock Bastilles own blade from his throat before digging into her with a series of quick jabs to her upper body, obviously trying to avoid striking anywhere NEAR her stomach.
|
|
|
|
Post by Bastille Amtrum on Mar 17, 2013 20:45:17 GMT -8
Bastille watched and snickered under her breathe blocking his downward thrust and immediately moving into the defensive from the constant jabs. She would then fully turn- which might be dangerous accept she went down and crouched, immediatly using her hands as her hold and kicking her legs up to cartwheel -hopefully- into and taking his arm with her legs, knocking him down on the ground. Lets see if he was ready to feel his body weight knocked off from the side.
[[ooc; perfectly okay]]
|
|
|
|
Post by Marcus Prasad on Mar 18, 2013 20:19:15 GMT -8
As Bastille went for the crouch, Marcus did the rather sensible thing and hopped back a pace, completely bypassing her attack.
Sword fighting was a game of timing, both sides testing each others defences and combining attack and evade into an intricate dance.
Ever the gentleman, he would begin to circle her, waiting for the young red eyed blond to get back onto her feet before stepping in with a quick figure eight slash, aiming for one shoulder on the downswing and the other on the up swing. Marcus had to admit, her displays of acrobatics were seriously reminding him of Silk and her chaotic fighting style.
'Hopefully I wont twist my ankle this time then....'
He thought with a reminicing smile as he awaited Bastilles riposte.
|
|
|
|
Post by Bastille Amtrum on Mar 20, 2013 0:48:06 GMT -8
Bastille would deliver, blocking both his attacks with simple swings, albeit a little close to call. She then would take the second perry as the opportunity to lock her blade with his sword and try- sliding it down hopefully so she could make contact using her elbow to his nose as she twisted into him like a salsa.
[[[ooc; pretty song]]]
|
|
|
|
Post by Marcus Prasad on Mar 21, 2013 21:30:53 GMT -8
In a flash the crimson eyed woman had thier blades locked and as she went in for the kill, Marcus would angle his own blade upwards and hopefully forcing Bastilles sword up as well before taking a step with a pirouette as he ducked under her elbow swing and manipulated her blade up behind his head.
If everything went according to plan, then Marcus should have ended up nose to nose with Bastille, His sword held up and behind his head with Bastilles blade locked against the outside of it, making the whole arrangement looking like an awkward half embrace.
"Ah. A Dance is it?"
He would purr with a smile.
"Would you like to lead?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Bastille Amtrum on Mar 21, 2013 22:02:07 GMT -8
"Careful tiger" She said with a smirk, immediately bringing her knee up to meet his groin and her head went to crash against his, using her locked arm to lock his head in place. Hopefully one of the moves met.
|
|
|
|
Post by Marcus Prasad on Mar 21, 2013 23:01:46 GMT -8
The Groin shot was obvious and was stopped with a simple pinching of his knees, keeping her from being able to raise her own knee high enough to strike and his precious manhood. The Heabutt was a different matter, with Marcus having pegged Bastille as the type to eschew such a brutaly simple style.
Kudos to her! He was pleasently surprised.
In alot of pain and seeing nothing but stars, but still pleasently surprised.
Letting a low vicious growl erupt from deep in his chest, Marcus would smile again, but this time far less pleasently.
"I'll take that as a yes then."
She had him in some strange headlock. Well fine, he would throw his free arm around her slender waist and pull her close, The arrow still in his hand with the point aimed upwards and digging slightly between her shoulder blades.
And then he would wait.
|
|
