[Judged] the universe is going to catch you

[Seraphina]

SOME THINGS ARE MORE PURPOSEFUL THAN A KNIFE, BUT NOT MANY-

“You will go gentle on me, won’t you, Sera?” Florentine says, a little too late for her to actually respond. If she’d had time to answer, Seraphina might have said of course; she has rarely wanted to hurt anyone before. (She cannot say never. She cannot say never, least of all now. She remembers how she felt towards Raum, and she knows that she still feels that same, bone-deep loathing now, but it is directionless, now that he is dead. She knows how she came to feel towards Zolin and towards the viceroy, and she knows how she felt when she stalked a slaver down the dark crevices of the Mors only a few nights ago. She knows how she felt when she pulled Alshamtueur from its hilt, so slow and so delicate that it didn’t even make a sound. When she slit his throat, he didn’t even know that she was there, and, as she watched his blood drip out onto the sand, she could only think that he deserved far, far worse for what he had done.)

(She doesn’t like to hurt anyone. The truth of the matter is that Seraphina dislikes violence. The truth of the matter is that she has lived a very violent lifestyle, by her own will or otherwise, and there is nothing she can do to bleach herself free of blood. The truth of the matter is that she doesn’t feel much remorse for most of it, but it does make her feel sick.)

Of course she will go gentle on her.

When Alshamtueur connects with the delicate bones of Florentine’s wing, Seraphina has to swallow a wince, and do it quickly; she is already in close quarters, and, when her teeth come snapping to graze her throat where the thick cloth of her armor is pulled down to leave it vulnerable, she makes little effort to dodge or block the attack. It is not even a bite – the press of lips and teeth to her skin tickles, at worst, and feels more like a kiss than an attack. (She doubts it so much as leaves a mark on her skin.)

Florentine dances back, her violet eyes wide and doelike, and she says, in a tone that strikes Seraphina as both inquisitive and miraculously innocent, “I thought you said you would go easy on me? I am not ready to feel the pain of this fight tomorrow.”

She does feel the faintest prickling of guilt when she thinks of Alshamtueur hitting Florentine on the wing, rather than across the chest, but she doubts that the impact from the sword will give the golden girl much more than a bruise. “This isn’t going easy?” Her voice comes out faintly – but only faintly - amused. “If you aren’t a bit sore, you’ll have accomplished little.” It is a necessary consequence of sparring, though not necessarily a pleasant one, and Florentine, she must remind herself, is no soldier.

She can be gentler, if she needs to be. She makes a silent promise of it.

With Florentine still, she leaps forward again, attempting to close the distance between them; she rises up on her hindquarters and snaps, aiming to graze her teeth against the nape of her neck, suspended hooves dangling precariously close to her shoulder.

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@Florentine || I love Flora ;~;

"Speech!" || "Ereshkigal!"

@

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Summary: Sera has a bit of an internal monologue about her feelings on violence. She whacks Flora with Alshamtueur, and she takes her bite in turn. They have a little bit of an exchange, & then she rushes up to her again, rears up, and attempts to bite her somewhere on the nape of her neck.

Attack Used: 1
Attack(s) Left: 0
Block Used: 0
Block(s) Left: 1
Item(s) Used: n/a

Response Deadline: 8/31 edit : extended for as long as obsi needs
Tags: @Florentine, @Sid, @inkbone, @nestle, @layla