10-27-2015, 06:22 PM
The dust slowly cleared away slowly from around the two contestants, the battle finally over.
Gildarts struggled to push himself from the ground and a heavy boot planted on his back, pushing him back down. “Stay down,” the woman panted, sickly amouts of sweat running from her forehead, “I can’t do that again.”
The man huffed, his trembling arms not allowing him to stand. “How...” he began, his words catching on his dry lips, “how did you do that?”
The bandit offered a weak grin, “Hell if I know.” She narrowed her eyes at the otherworldy wizard as she lifted her foot. “We done? Can we be done now please?” He offered a small nod. “Good.”
Her right arm crossed her body and she fished around in her pocket and clumsily retrieved her phone. Her bloody thumb swept over the screen, leaving a streak in its wake.
“Roll over, asshole,” she grumbled and fussed with the buttons on the side of the phone.
“Eh?” Gildarts groaned, looking over his shoulder.
She plopped down next to him and reclined, holding her phone at arm’s length. “Mother fucker I’m getting a picture, roll over.”
“What? I don’t understand,” he complained, but still acquiesced.
Struggling to hold the device out far enough to get a shot, the bandit swore under her breath. “I can’t get this thing far enough aw-“
Her eyes flashed as an idea entered her mind. Scramlbing up, she grabbed the man’s battered metal arm, and stuck the phone into its fingers. She repositioned herself, making sure to hold her mangled stump-limb near his. She then extended the metal arm all the way out, its thumb on the button.
“Say ‘Suck it!’” she commanded, and the picture camera flashed.
Gildarts frowned after the image was captured, glaring over to the ruffian. “Do you have to use such language in every sentence?”
When there was no reply, he looked over to the warrior, only to find her unconscious. Shaking his head, he scooped the bandit up and draped her gently over his shoulder. The mage carried her towards the exit, the crowd cheering their departure.
Gildarts struggled to push himself from the ground and a heavy boot planted on his back, pushing him back down. “Stay down,” the woman panted, sickly amouts of sweat running from her forehead, “I can’t do that again.”
The man huffed, his trembling arms not allowing him to stand. “How...” he began, his words catching on his dry lips, “how did you do that?”
The bandit offered a weak grin, “Hell if I know.” She narrowed her eyes at the otherworldy wizard as she lifted her foot. “We done? Can we be done now please?” He offered a small nod. “Good.”
Her right arm crossed her body and she fished around in her pocket and clumsily retrieved her phone. Her bloody thumb swept over the screen, leaving a streak in its wake.
“Roll over, asshole,” she grumbled and fussed with the buttons on the side of the phone.
“Eh?” Gildarts groaned, looking over his shoulder.
She plopped down next to him and reclined, holding her phone at arm’s length. “Mother fucker I’m getting a picture, roll over.”
“What? I don’t understand,” he complained, but still acquiesced.
Struggling to hold the device out far enough to get a shot, the bandit swore under her breath. “I can’t get this thing far enough aw-“
Her eyes flashed as an idea entered her mind. Scramlbing up, she grabbed the man’s battered metal arm, and stuck the phone into its fingers. She repositioned herself, making sure to hold her mangled stump-limb near his. She then extended the metal arm all the way out, its thumb on the button.
“Say ‘Suck it!’” she commanded, and the picture camera flashed.
Gildarts frowned after the image was captured, glaring over to the ruffian. “Do you have to use such language in every sentence?”
When there was no reply, he looked over to the warrior, only to find her unconscious. Shaking his head, he scooped the bandit up and draped her gently over his shoulder. The mage carried her towards the exit, the crowd cheering their departure.