[The stone arrowhead dagger he quickly crafted (and then detailed upon later) on the siren island is what he pulls out of his jacket when he gets to her. She jumps up and over, but he continues with what he had planned anyway, not knowing quite yet which is the trick.
Even looking like a thirteen year old shrimp, it's clear in the precision of his stop and the swipe across off the dagger he's been trained rather extensively. Can he keep up with Sierra? Maybe for a while, but lacking his usual array of gadgets, lacking the long sleuthing of figuring out Sierra's weaknesses, he is still only human.
So the doppelganger gets a horizontal slash of merely stone dagger, but he's quick to tuck himself and roll hastily off to the side out of the way and back up to his face; his biggest concern is leaving his back wide open for her to follow-up. Getting blasted in the front--even punched--will hurt, but...!! His spine is important for survival, listen!!]
[ it’s not like she wants to paralyze him, but she does notice that she couldn’t even if she was aiming to as soon as he straightens up to protect his spine. again, she thinks, he’s good—better than plenty of other humans she’s faced, and she thinks he would do quite well in riou’s army.
the doppelganger disappears as soon as its purpose has been served, but sierra doesn’t follow up immediately. ]
How’s your tolerance for magic? I don’t want to kill you.
[ she asks it playfully, because she’s taking this much less seriously than he is. ]
[Ah shit. His face gives away—not his tolerance, but what he thinks about magic. Hates it. Awful. Magic is the most stupid. But he doesn’t offer her a definite answer to the question. Instead, he tries to give her less of an opportunity.
He rushes forward at her without warning, brandishing the dagger and swiping it cleanly back and forth over and over at her. To which she’ll probably be able to just back up from, but listen. It keeps her busy.]
[ damian is getting his wish, since she backs up from the dagger with every swipe—if this were a real fight, she might just grab it and shock him then heal her hand, but it feels rude to pull a trick like that. she has honor, occasionally. ]
You don’t like openings either, hm?
[ instead of magic, she relies on another ability—damian can probably hear it before he sees it, a swarm of bats suddenly rushing in from the side. they have weight, they cast shadows, by all impressions they seem to be real. ]
[The irony is not lost on Damian. (He hates this.) The moment he hears the start of chittering, he freezes and whips halfway around. He won't be able to duck or run; there's no use trying.
So he brings his arms up again to shield as much of his face and head as he can, ducking his head, hunching his shoulders.] Gah! [Their clawed thumbs and feet scratch, the leathery sweep of the wings smack, but they don't seem to be doing a whole lot more than being a nuisance.
Hurting animals isn't exactly on his list of priorities, but don't think he won't sacrifice a few bats. His free arm starts swinging; the hand with the dagger uses it to try to cut some space--or a bat or two.]
Stop getting your pets to do your dirty work! Fight me!
[ the bats disappear when damian slices at them—although they cry out as if they truly are living creatures that have been stabbed with a dagger, they disperse into shadow as soon as they “die.” they’re nothing more than tactile illusion, for better or worse. ]
But fine.
[ she brought her claws out, but she decides on the same whim she decides everything that she doesn’t need them. instead, she cuts a path straight through the bats as if parting a sea, and decides to meet damian on his own terms—by just throwing a punch at his stomach. ]
[Well, the cry sure feels bad, but if they vanish so easily, he's going to convince himself they're magical and not worth the disapproval.
The claws, though. It's a good thing he was punched, or he would have taken them through the skin more than likely. The bats are enough hindrance; her arm swings out of the opening of their disappearance and socks him squarely in the stomach. Even tightening his muscles, the power behind it is wild.
He flies up and back a few feet, landing breathless and nauseated on the ground nearby with the dagger skidding away out of reach. But if anything, he's persistent, almost too mortally stubborn. He took the blow, and it didn't put him out of commission yet.
Rolling over, he spits a small mouthful of blood into the snow and dirt. Thankfully, not internal; just a sudden, rough bite of his tongue.]
[ the blood is bright on the snow as it seeps in and melts the ice crystals around it, but sierra can’t feel too bad—he’s welcome to tap out whenever he likes, though she imagines he won’t unless she simply knocks him unconscious. ]
You’d go to the death, wouldn’t you?
[ although vampires can’t sweat, metaphorically speaking, sierra has hardly even broken one. her breath is just a bit heavier thanks to summoning the bats and throwing her weight behind a punch, but she’s in much better condition than he is, simply based on their respective stances. ]
[He locks her down with his green eyes as he hoists himself back up to his feet. The bruise might already be starting to form, but there’s a practiced resilience to how perfectly he stands against her for another round.] But you didn’t come to fight me to the death. If you aren’t a husk like Ichinose’s vampires, you’ll already understand killing me will make her hate you for as long as you’re both here. [Regardless, he puts both arms up like he plans to continue.]
Death I’m intimately familiar with. It can’t hold me either.
[He takes off, and surprisingly, not for the dagger that had been dropped on the ground. He’s too confident in his own power, so he charges straight for her with nothing but his agility and his fists, both of which, while impressive, don’t quite compare to someone with superhuman abilities.
It’s fine. The point is he put up a fight at all. More than he would say about others.]
[ as inelegant as it may be, sierra takes a split second to think about it, and then—lets him get that punch.
it might seem strange to others, when sierra has made such a show of being untouchable and confident and infinitely more powerful than this little nugget of a boy, but she can’t gauge him at all if she doesn’t let him hit her just once. perhaps, too, she likes that answer of his.
his fist connects with her as surely as anyone could guess it would, and although her supernatural strength and poise keeps her from flying, she gasps in a genuine sound of pain. he’s strong, he’s trained, not unlike that kid from the dojo. she slides back just an inch or two, and laughs. ]
[Getting a hit would normally make him perhaps too over-confident, but he's learned most of the people here have some kind of supernatural up on him. Reminds him of home really. But it keeps him from following up for now.
As soon as he hits, he puts a good bit of distance between her and himself, no less set up in a ready stance.]
You let me have that. [Again, he turns his head and mildly spits to get rid of a bit more blood in his mouth.] Your stamina is too high for you to be that careless.
I could toy with you all day, but that would do nothing for us but fan my ego. I called you out here to test you, not to torment you.
[ she is amazed at what a solid hit that was from such a small body, but then, damian isn’t like her—where she is small and delicate, with a frame that looks liable to snap in a breeze, damian had to train for that strength and it shows.
[Slowly, his face folds into something both confused and resigned. After a moment or two, everything about him loosens slightly, and he stands up straighter.] I'm fully capable of taking care of myself. [He can survive, but can he live is the question.]
And I'm fully capable of taking care of the girl, too.
[Despite frowning, Damian remains resilient because there's too much intimacy in using her name to someone else much less her already.]
Gladly. I'm starting to get bored with most people here.
[He loves them (shhh), but damn they are a soft, goody-two-shoes bunch. Or they're old, tired men like Guren who won't fight him fairly!! He can't believe he got a decent fight out of Sierra before he got one out of Mr. Lieutenant-Colonel of the Japanese Imperial Demon Army.]
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Even looking like a thirteen year old shrimp, it's clear in the precision of his stop and the swipe across off the dagger he's been trained rather extensively. Can he keep up with Sierra? Maybe for a while, but lacking his usual array of gadgets, lacking the long sleuthing of figuring out Sierra's weaknesses, he is still only human.
So the doppelganger gets a horizontal slash of merely stone dagger, but he's quick to tuck himself and roll hastily off to the side out of the way and back up to his face; his biggest concern is leaving his back wide open for her to follow-up. Getting blasted in the front--even punched--will hurt, but...!! His spine is important for survival, listen!!]
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the doppelganger disappears as soon as its purpose has been served, but sierra doesn’t follow up immediately. ]
How’s your tolerance for magic? I don’t want to kill you.
[ she asks it playfully, because she’s taking this much less seriously than he is. ]
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[Ah shit. His face gives away—not his tolerance, but what he thinks about magic. Hates it. Awful. Magic is the most stupid. But he doesn’t offer her a definite answer to the question. Instead, he tries to give her less of an opportunity.
He rushes forward at her without warning, brandishing the dagger and swiping it cleanly back and forth over and over at her. To which she’ll probably be able to just back up from, but listen. It keeps her busy.]
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[ damian is getting his wish, since she backs up from the dagger with every swipe—if this were a real fight, she might just grab it and shock him then heal her hand, but it feels rude to pull a trick like that. she has honor, occasionally. ]
You don’t like openings either, hm?
[ instead of magic, she relies on another ability—damian can probably hear it before he sees it, a swarm of bats suddenly rushing in from the side. they have weight, they cast shadows, by all impressions they seem to be real. ]
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So he brings his arms up again to shield as much of his face and head as he can, ducking his head, hunching his shoulders.] Gah! [Their clawed thumbs and feet scratch, the leathery sweep of the wings smack, but they don't seem to be doing a whole lot more than being a nuisance.
Hurting animals isn't exactly on his list of priorities, but don't think he won't sacrifice a few bats. His free arm starts swinging; the hand with the dagger uses it to try to cut some space--or a bat or two.]
Stop getting your pets to do your dirty work! Fight me!
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[ the bats disappear when damian slices at them—although they cry out as if they truly are living creatures that have been stabbed with a dagger, they disperse into shadow as soon as they “die.” they’re nothing more than tactile illusion, for better or worse. ]
But fine.
[ she brought her claws out, but she decides on the same whim she decides everything that she doesn’t need them. instead, she cuts a path straight through the bats as if parting a sea, and decides to meet damian on his own terms—by just throwing a punch at his stomach. ]
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The claws, though. It's a good thing he was punched, or he would have taken them through the skin more than likely. The bats are enough hindrance; her arm swings out of the opening of their disappearance and socks him squarely in the stomach. Even tightening his muscles, the power behind it is wild.
He flies up and back a few feet, landing breathless and nauseated on the ground nearby with the dagger skidding away out of reach. But if anything, he's persistent, almost too mortally stubborn. He took the blow, and it didn't put him out of commission yet.
Rolling over, he spits a small mouthful of blood into the snow and dirt. Thankfully, not internal; just a sudden, rough bite of his tongue.]
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[ the blood is bright on the snow as it seeps in and melts the ice crystals around it, but sierra can’t feel too bad—he’s welcome to tap out whenever he likes, though she imagines he won’t unless she simply knocks him unconscious. ]
You’d go to the death, wouldn’t you?
[ although vampires can’t sweat, metaphorically speaking, sierra has hardly even broken one. her breath is just a bit heavier thanks to summoning the bats and throwing her weight behind a punch, but she’s in much better condition than he is, simply based on their respective stances. ]
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[He locks her down with his green eyes as he hoists himself back up to his feet. The bruise might already be starting to form, but there’s a practiced resilience to how perfectly he stands against her for another round.] But you didn’t come to fight me to the death. If you aren’t a husk like Ichinose’s vampires, you’ll already understand killing me will make her hate you for as long as you’re both here. [Regardless, he puts both arms up like he plans to continue.]
Make sure you can live with your choice.
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[ she is not going to kill him, though for a moment, a terrible moment, there’s something cold in her eyes like she just might be considering it. ]
I don’t kill humans, and humans can’t kill me. “Death” is a concept for another day, you little bastard.
[ that last part is said with strangely more fondness than it should ever warrant, like she’s pleased with how far he’s taken this. ]
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[He takes off, and surprisingly, not for the dagger that had been dropped on the ground. He’s too confident in his own power, so he charges straight for her with nothing but his agility and his fists, both of which, while impressive, don’t quite compare to someone with superhuman abilities.
It’s fine. The point is he put up a fight at all. More than he would say about others.]
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it might seem strange to others, when sierra has made such a show of being untouchable and confident and infinitely more powerful than this little nugget of a boy, but she can’t gauge him at all if she doesn’t let him hit her just once. perhaps, too, she likes that answer of his.
his fist connects with her as surely as anyone could guess it would, and although her supernatural strength and poise keeps her from flying, she gasps in a genuine sound of pain. he’s strong, he’s trained, not unlike that kid from the dojo. she slides back just an inch or two, and laughs. ]
Not bad.
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As soon as he hits, he puts a good bit of distance between her and himself, no less set up in a ready stance.]
You let me have that. [Again, he turns his head and mildly spits to get rid of a bit more blood in his mouth.] Your stamina is too high for you to be that careless.
Why?
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[ she is amazed at what a solid hit that was from such a small body, but then, damian isn’t like her—where she is small and delicate, with a frame that looks liable to snap in a breeze, damian had to train for that strength and it shows.
for her standards, she’s satisfied. ]
So take the compliment, boy.
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And I'm fully capable of taking care of the girl, too.
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[ sierra is amused all the same, though, and it seems their little fight has come to its end. she’s happy with what she witnessed. ]
…It was good to see you in action, Damian. Shall we spar again, some day?
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Gladly. I'm starting to get bored with most people here.
[He loves them (shhh), but damn they are a soft, goody-two-shoes bunch. Or they're old, tired men like Guren who won't fight him fairly!! He can't believe he got a decent fight out of Sierra before he got one out of Mr. Lieutenant-Colonel of the Japanese Imperial Demon Army.]
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[ simply because he hates it so much, and although it’s evident in her tone that she’s teasing, she’s a little bit sincere as well. ]