Hecate vs. Cirno

[Dane Regan]

Some overlap with Warren's post

With his knee already bent, Xx_Yandere_Lo♥er_xX rolled forward, picking up his sword as he tumbled intentionally. Just as he was about to steady himself back to his feet, a large spear gored his right shoulder, digging in but not piercing the whole way through. With a grunt, he jerked his torso, letting it fall out of its own accord. Blood pooled down his back, but through sheer force of will, or simply adrenaline, his movements were mostly uninhibited. Parts of the solid bone were exposed, and a congealed mess of red gunk glutted out through the gap, clotting and lumpy as torn clumps of tissue joined it. 

Firmly clasping his ōdachi with both hands, Xx_Yandere_Lo♥er_xX twisted around almost instantly, shifting his stance to favour his left. He swivelly his wounded shoulder experimentally, only to be met head-on by his charging foe. He chanced a swing, but Warren closed in too quickly for it to connect. Holding his sword solely with his right hand, he lifted his left, throwing a hook square on Warren's temple - just as the prime had summoned his ice sword once again. A fake. An insult to his Waifu.

They rolled, each trying to scrappily shank the other with blades too large for the job. A fresh coating of crimson was cast over the grass, dirt, and shrubbery, shifting to a more dilute orange as it mixed with the ever-present jungle dew of the greens. Knees, heads, elbows, and fists cracked - neither could land a solid strike throughout the brawl. Both had keen eyes, searching for an opening.

Deft fingers flicked over a watch, pressing a button on the side. It glowed faintly, just out of Xx_Yandere_Lo♥er_xX's vision. The wannabe samurai grunted, ducking his head down and thrusting it forward, smashing Warren's already bleeding nose. The bone shattered, snapping to the side. Making a clear effort to avoid howling in pain, the middle-aged prime raised his arms, dropping his sword and trying to protect his face by pushing away Xx_Yandere_Lo♥er_xX's head with blood-soaked hands.

Instead of fighting the losing battle of neck vs hands, Xx_Yandere_Lo♥er_xX thrust an open palm down on Warren's throat - the curve from his first finger to his thumb clamping down and shifting up to the man's jawline. Coughing and choking, the Quarterback of Chaos slapped the wrist away with his now unoccupied hands, causing Xx_Yandere_Lo♥er_xX's thumb to scratch over his throat but giving him the much-needed opportunity to breathe.

Not letting up the scuffle, Warren tried to swing out a hook of his own. It was easily blocked, but the prime managed to roll on top, closing his hand into a fist and bringing it down with a very obvious yet strong strike. It connected with Xx_Yandere_Lo♥er_xX's left forearm, glancing off and making both of their arms ache from the recoil.

In the brief respite from his parry, Xx_Yandere_Lo♥er_xX weakly flicked his right wrist, sending the steel blade into Warren's side. It drew a long shallow cut, scraping through his foe's armour like it was a cardboard box - rough yet easily pierced.

Grunting and rolling off, untangling from the brawl, Warren steadied his wrist. The watch made a faint ding noise, pulsating and glowing a vibrant pink-purple. With little warning, his target dodged as best as he could. A laser shot out, flying the short distance from Warren's wrist to Xx_Yandere_Lo♥er_xX's twisting chest. It dug in, firing with a crackle and searing into his side, just below his ribs. The wound seared shut, flesh burning, pain wracking through his brain.

Shakily, his clasped his sword, prying himself to his feet with the help of a tree. He could tell he was going to wake up with a lot of bruises tomorrow, but Warren still looked to be a worse off - namely from his open chest wound. He panted, each of them staring their foe down. The faint shattering of ice and the clanging of steel rang out in the distance, quieter than the rustling of leaves in the wind.

Xx_Yandere_Lo♥er_xX cracked his neck, watching Warren create his spear for the third time today. Dodging to the side and easily evading a blast of purple, he stumbled in, firmly grasping his weeb sword with both hands so it reflected the sunlight just right. Menacingly reflecting it into his foe's eyes. It was time to end this. He sidestepped a spear thrust, then moved on the offensive, raining down one heavy blow after another, barely giving Warren any time to dodge. He knew the feeling - sluggish arms and legs. It was much, much easier to hit than be hit.

Hack.

Slash.

Cleave.

Ssschting.

Clang.

Nicks littered Warren's sides, and the purple covering of his spear fell to the ground in tatters. Snarling, Xx_Yandere_Lo♥er_xX lashed out, kicking Warren's wounded chest.

800 words again. Woo.