[SO-Zeltiva] The Best Way to Apologize to a Myrian

[Edreina]

2nd of Winter, 513 AV
En Route to Sunberth Upon the Calypso

A fact well known the world over was that Myrians adore their swords.

The men, even more so.

With the hatches closed, the dawn was ebony upon the Calypso, only instinct noted the change. But, Edreina needed no help finding her target for they were well acquainted. The loincloth's simple ties were no match for a Svefra's deft fingers, even in the dark. Her fingers found it first, trailing faintly along its length, rousing it while allowing the rest of the body to remain unconscious. The pad of her thumb made slow, gentle circles about the crown, using it as a point of reference as she leaned in and slipped her lips over it.

Gently, at first, she would suck upon it, tongue swirling as her mouth ventured downwards and then up. It was a slow tempo, one meant to wake him ever so gradually. A nod was added to her gentle bobbing, the tension in her lips varying nearly constantly so that the sensation was always fresh to him.

Any questioning or (in his bleary state of fresh waking) attempts at refusal would be met with a gentle hand trailing up his flat, toned stomach, across his well-muscled chest, and to rest faintly upon his lips. This was for him, entirely. Later she would be able to explain that this was her way to make up for their brief tiff the day before; there was nothing, in her mind, that sex could not solve. Men were happier after release.

Diligently she would work, silent save for the tell-tale and unavoidable sounds of her act. The tension in his body spoke volumes to her of when she was doing well and when she needed to do better. The speed and intensity of her labors were reliant upon the keys and cues of Razkar himself. A favorable twist of her head here with tensed lips, a long draw against the soft inside of her mouth here, she knew what he liked, after nearly two seasons performing such ministrations.

When finally his pleasure reached its peak, she would still save for her throat and then her tongue as she pulled away, wiping any remnants from her mouth and lips before smiling in the dark at him. "My way of apologizing for yesterday," she whispered, laying down so that she may curl up against his side. "I thought I could finish my apology by requesting that you train me in the way of my new gladius, later today... When you've rested." A grin entered her voice as she felt his quickened breath and faintly trembling form. A woman did have to take pride in her work.

(c) Wanda Endust

[Razkar]

It was, he would remember, almost like being born. The Dreamscape was one reality, ethereal and willowy, but true... and then it started to slide away from him. But rude reality did not intrude with its usual disdain or lack of warning. That morning it seemed to... massage his being. The lightest pressure, almost liquid in its softness, beckoning him towards a light. Then he felt the waves wash over him, into him, through him.

Razkar moaned softly and he felt his actual lips make the sound; his first realization that he was waking. But shunting the mind from dreams to the real was a fuzzy process, rife with confusion and bleary thoughts, words, questions, sensations-

Not that time. He woke to pleasure. To arousal. A familiar throbbing between his legs and a feeling he had become familiar with, soft and moist and speaking of devotion to his own-

"Goddess..."

Before he could add anything else, cool fingers were pressed to his lips and his mind wisely decided to shut the fuck up and enjoy the ride. A fresh roll of her lips against his member and Razkar wasn't about to argue. Every muscle in his torso tightened and he shuddered like one afflicted, daring to look down...

Seeing little in the gloom but shadows, a flash of red, bobbing steadily up and down, dedicated to pushing him harder, further, sending the waves crash through him with every swirl and swipe of her tongue, every suction of her lips, until-

Razkar grunted and moaned and yelped all at once (a sound eminently recognizable to males the multiverse over, if they were honest about it) and his body spent itself inside her. His hardness quivered and shook, spreading the feeling up is body until every inch of him tingled.

"This... is real...?"

"My way of apologizing for yesterday."

Perhaps she couldn't see his shadow-shrouded face as he wiggled her way back to his side, lying flush against his too-tingly and very appreciative body. He assumed as much, because she would definitely have reacted as Razkar's jaw clicked open, surprise mounting on surprise at what she's whispered to him.

A female apologizing to a male, and the way she did it? By pleasuring him to faithfully, so loyally, without care to herself?

She would have to be a Child of Myri to know how... how-

"You are amazing, Edri," he murmured back, nuzzling his nose against hers, teeth shining dully in the first yawning rays of Syna, petering through the porthole. "Never let anyone tell you otherwise..."

"I thought I could finish my apology by requesting that you train me in the way of my new gladius, later today... When you've rested."

He cocked an eyebrow in the darkness, smile becoming thinner, almost... feral. She couldn't see his hands, but soon she would feel them, tracing down her bare body... then her thighs. Soft and insubstantial as his breath on them, teasing around her core.

Razkar grinned wider, like a wolf scenting prey or weakness. It never took her long. Whether it was his prowess as a lover or her inbuilt lust, he didn't know (though he was guessing the latter). Already he could feel the heat radiating off her, the power of her attraction to him goading his member into hardness again. He opened his mouth gently,as if savoring it-

-as he stroked her womanhood with his callused fingertips, stiffening with her as a breath shook from her lips. Round and full and begging for him, the Myrian pressed his own to them, drinking in the taste of her arousal.

Early mornings were often the best time for them both. So much in their dreams to be made flesh... and they had their cabin, after all.

"When I have rested?" I paraphrased back to her, inhaling sharply as he slid one finger into the tight, steaming wetness, gritting his teeth as it flexed around his digit, searching for that button within. "Not just me, my love..."

Razkar was far from a "nice" man, but he did believe in justice. And what was justice if not giving what you got?

[Edreina]

The table was turned and Edreina found herself caught beneath Razkar's torment. At first she was still, caught by a feeling of surprise and pleasure that Razkar would not simply take what she gave to him but also return it. A tremble broke her stillness, racking her from toes to nose. It was odd that fingertips so rough could cause so gentle a sensation. Again she trembled, parting her legs for him ever so slightly and rolling onto her side so that their lips could meet.

A gasp echoed through their shared cabin - Razkar always seemed to forget that bit - before she muffled herself. A leg hooked over his hip gave him more direct access to the bits he desired; a roll of her hips helped the both of them. A tiny part of Edreina was dismayed to have had her apology trumped by his own affections.

A tiny, tiny part. The rest was far too distracted to care.

---

When Edreina woke the second time, light trickled into the cabin through the now-open hatches. Her head lay atop Razkar's gently rising and falling chest. Looking around, she could tell that she was one of the last to wake, but not the very last which was a comfort. Being the last out of a hold was always telling, as if their cabin-mates hadn't already been made aware of their not-so-subtle exploits.

The duties of this particular Svefra and her Myrian were not like those of the rest of the crew. Instead, she was in charge of fine-tuning the behavior of the Denvali to make them passable Svefra and his was to teach them to defend themselves. Edreina was of the opinion that it was best to let him warm up on her instead of some little Denvali who could not even make a fist.

Well, if it had to be her, might as well make it a bit more interesting. In a single, scrabbling motion, Edreina reached over Razkar, took his blade, caught hold of hers, rose, and raced up onto the deck. By now, Razkar had likely been jolted awake and was fumbling for her loincloth; Edreina had been lucky enough to remain with linen about her chest and a pair of thin linen shorts preserving her decency through their exertions.

Most of the crew was sitting on the edge of the deck, on the railing with rods over in the water. Others were sitting together mending nets or working on their personal crafts. A near nude woman running through their midst would not have caused a stir but, one being followed by a Myrian did turn a few heads; the fact that Edreina laughed maniacally did not do anything to avoid attention. His blade found a home hanging from a wooden peg and hers slid from its sheath with a faint hiss.

When Razkar caught up, he would see her grinning, blade pulled back, poised to make use of the thin point. "Come and get it..." she growled playfully in his tongue, blue eyes alight and challenging.

(c) Wanda Endust

[Razkar]

Frantic movement across his chest, his whole being jerked from blissful, tingling oblivion to a reality of flaming hair and grasping limbs-

-and Razkar grasped at empty air on a reflex, but fine as they were, groggy and ill-prepared, she was too fast for him.

"Bitch!"

The word came out in a gasp and a curse and a chuckle all at once. The naked Myrian just gaped for a tick as the grinning Svefra flew across the gloomy cabin, his gleaming blade in her hand a second smile that mocked him, goaded him-

His blade. In her hand.

"Oh, fucking typical..."

Fastening his loincloth back on was the work of a few ticks and his pounding feet chased her like an Akila after a rabbit, stopping short in blazing Syna's light as she deftly hung it up on the mainsail and spun around at him-

-her new gladius hissing from its scabbard, reflecting her smile for a moment as she leveled it at him, settling into one of the several stances he'd taught her. Body angled forward, strong foot in front, blade held in one hand while her other was out, balancing her. Razkar blinked and his warrior training annotated it within that time.

Defensive stance. Ready to parry and thrust. Secondary hand (unarmed) ready to strike and provide additional weight to dodges. Fine use of the weapon, which is designed to thrust...

"Come and get it..."

The analytic ticker-tape crashed to a halt when his own tongue - so harsh and choppy but made lilting in hr own accent - growled out between smiling teeth. Goddess, she did love it when she spoke his language. Always on the verge of arousal in combat, as were most of his race, Razkar felt a ripple of pleasure tingle from his gnosis to his limbs to his cock, and he was grateful for the brisk wind keeping him from... pointing.

They had an audience, too. The Svefra crew going about their work now spared half an eye for the drama playing out on their deck. It was boring work, after all, and a distraction was always welcome. He even saw a few curious head poke up from over the side, barnacle-scraping forgotten for a few chimes. But the Denvali? They were all eyes, already muttering, making bets, judging, weighing...

Ready to be taught. Well, in that case-

"Those under our protection, come forth and pay attention!" He shouted in fluent, booming Common, pacing in front of her, loosening his sleep-heavy limbs as he warned to his role of teacher. "Your lesson for today begins now..."

He waited a few ticks for them to do so, never taking his eyes off his enem- no, his opponent. She'd taught him the difference yesterday; he would not make the same mistake.

"See." He said simply, gesturing to the still-poised redhead, then to his softly-swaying gladius behind her. "Question for today: your enemy has your weapon, their own, and you have nothing. So, how do you resolve the situation?"

Silence. Predictable and expected. Black eyes swept his students, the old and the young, until a wary hand was raised-

"Marius. Answer?"

"Um... you..." Still fighting for words, but the young man's brows were knitted in thought, fixed on the smiling Edreina. "Get around her somehow. Maybe use something to hand, ah, maybe an oar-"

"No!" The single snapped word cut it off and Razkar shook his head. "You would run." He waited again or the shock to wear off. A Myrian advocating the coward's way? Unheard of! "I shall explain. You are not trained in blades nor fists nor spear. I am. An enemy armed and facing you is one you are unlikely to triumph over, especially..."

Razkar gestured to his lover and partner, wry pride in his eyes.

"... when she clearly knows what she is doing. A sword can be replaced. Life cannot. You run, and hope he is slower. Now... what if... it is me...?"

His body tensed, and the sight of it rippled across the deck like a rock thrown in a pond. Unease, anticipation struck a few watchers; the older generation just held their breath, know something would happen and they should-

-his gnosis flared into life and the Child of Myri smiled-

"Watch."

Razkar burst forward as the light and strength of his Goddess-Queen coursed through him; he idly wondered in that last fleeting second if Edreina would appreciate the irony, given how she'd used her mark of favor the previous day. Also like her, he felt no compunction nor guilt in doing so.

She bears a blade, and I only my hands. What judge or tribunal would find me in error?

The Myrian darted in zig-zags, side to side, feet flying off the deck fast enough for its sway not to effect his balance-

-ultimately ending up on her barehanded side, sliding against her with his hands up, half-closed into fists, poised to grab or strike as he saw fit-

Options flashed through his mind; all depended on her. Razkar would burst out with a feint from his right fist to her jaw, but pull it back when she reacted-

So begin the options:

If she thrust out at him with her gladius he would twist his body to the left, the broad target of his chest suddenly contorted away from her, but her body and blade would keep going forward, and his left hand would grip her wrist, holding it in place-

-right foot snapping out to slam into her shin, whichever was closest, sending her tottering away as he released his grip, sliding back and to his side, ending up at the mainsail and his gladius.

Or...

She could strike out at his hand, either with her blade or with her feet, seeking to throw him off balance, too. In that case, he would sway away from her and her slashing weapon or lashing foot, waiting until it passed him before his right arm jerked back and he slammed his forearm into the back of her wrist, shaking her grip on her gladius-

-left hand delivering a short, sharp shot to her kidneys, just enough to send a spasm of pain ripping through her-

-and his left hand would grab a handful of linen and rip her backwards, his twisting torso adding more power into the movement, ripping her away from her position between him and his blade-

-leaving him unimpeded to it.

Yes. Fine theories. Good responses. Let's see how it works. He smiled all the same as the broken tick gave way to the one that followed, full of sound and crashing bodies. Let's see what they learn.

[Edreina]

"No! You would run."

A smile flickered up and onto Edreina's lips at her lover's words, but her guard did not fall. Bright blue eyes studied him warily as he gave a brief lecture, body always tensed as she prepared to dart out and away from him if necessary and to face him if possible. "Sometimes," she added with a wry grin, "even holding a weapon will not keep you safe. Always judge your enemy and, if there is doubt in your mind, flee. This is survival, not a knight's tourney." A few nodded solemnly, a few others smiled and shook their heads, still finding it hard to believe that that woman consorted with the beast of a man before them and somehow came out on top, at times.

And then, in the time it took her to blink, he was rushing at her, Gnosis-fueled limbs allowing him to move with unsettling speed; it was so easy to forget he was a creature of the harsh jungle of Myri, for her. She shied away from his sharp punch, entire body twisting so that she could use the momentum to lash out with her glinting gladius. But, as always, he predicted her response and was able to lash out and catch hold of her wrist as her body met air and continued to lunge, balance off-set as she tried to compensate. He did not even have to kick her in the shin - but he did anyway, sadistic petcher - for she was already in the process of falling. This way, she just did so with a high yelp of pain.

Bile rose as she felt her elbow drag along the deck, skidding painfully along the wood as she tried to catch herself without lowering her gladius. Her smarting leg gave way, forcing her into an awkward one-elbow-one-foot stance. Panic flashed in her eyes for but a second as she saw Razkar take hold of his blade and found herself helpless. It faded as she realized that she was never helpless so long as she had faith.

The Svefra rose shakily - to the glee of some of those around her - forcing her angry leg to support her weight even as the deck bucked beneath her. It was getting easier for her to ignore the urge to hesitate.

In retaliation, she charged quickly, slashing her new blade up and across her body in a backhanded swing at the Myrian. Being left-handed, their blades would meet with the mirrored arms if Razkar decided to block her, giving her the advantage of momentum. She would continue towards him, aiming to ram her shoulder into his and hopefully knock him off balance. If he dodged, she wound continue using her momentum but this time in an effort to drive a sharp punch into the Myrian's side.

If she managed to dance away after that, she would return fiercely again, this time jabbing forward. This time, she was a bit less organized than before. Her grip would fail if Razkar decided to parry this attack, sending her blade skittering across the deck and causing her tense as she prepared to receive his special brand of punishment for her failure. If he dodged yet again, the quick bastard would then see a knee sailing sharply upwards and towards his thigh, hoping to deaden the leg as he had done to her time and time again.

(c) Wanda Endust

[Razkar]

Every time they are together, they become less "they" and more "one".

Razkar smiled thinly at the old adage from his people; a not-too-poetical but undeniable little lesson about the synergy between warrior and weapon. Namely, the more you wielded it, the better would would become with it. He nodded as Edreina scrambled and stumbled across the deck-

-but didn't lower he gladius, and always kept it pointed at him. A murmured chorus rose from their audience - well, class, more accurately - and Razkar waited for her to rise to her feet, readying his eager limbs and felt his gnosis throb-

-as she lunged towards him, leading with a broad, diagonal backhand. The Myrian's eyes shone for a half-tick. Very good. Controlled, but wide-reaching. Forces your enemy on the defensive-

-and the Myrian slid across the deck to his right and swayed away from the blow, jerking his torso back, waiting for the blade to pass up and over his head-

-before using the opposite momentum to deliver a sharp, precise slap from the edge of his gladius against her bruised shin.

"Remember, students!" He called out even as they whirled and traded blows. "You're learning to win a fight, not just swing steel around! There is no shame in striking where your enemy is weak and injured. Believe, he'd do the same to you-"

-and the word ended on a gasped grunt as Edreina's small but strong fist hammered into his side. But despite the brief flare of pain, the Myrian had to smile. Ah, she really is learning.

"Two hands means two weapons, even if one of them's empty! One doesn't work, you try the other, just like Edreina just did-"

Then she was on him again, stepping back only briefly to right her balance and then thrusting forward like some Syliran fencer-

The Myrian nearly winced. Her form... overreached. Off-balance. Almost desperate... ill-chosen.

Well, she'd only just bought the thing. Give her time. And practice.

He slid to his right that time, twisting his torso so her jabbing blade missed its target but continued, gladius whipping around in a tight half-circle to pary her thrust-

-no-

-slap against the knuckles holding her blade. It would force her to drop it as her hand suddenly felt like it was stung by a dozen wasps, gladius clattering to the deck along with her yelp-

"If you must, use the blade to parry, but not block! Unless you have a large blade. That's what shields are for; block too much with your sword, and all that edge will be gone in-"

Her knee was coming up, but Razkar hadn't survived as long as he had by being slow to learn, and when her patella was halfway to him-

-he stabbed down with his gladius, only it was the bottom of the hilt that-

-cracked into her thigh just above her mid-air knee. Not hard; perhaps not even bruising it. But enough to let her know she'd been hit, and keep her in the spar-

-much like the open-palmed blow he snapped out at her stomach with his left hand. Again, Razkar was careful not to unleash his full power. What point would it serve, after all? He didn't want to crack her breastbone: just knock her back and "hammer" home the point she'd made a mistake.

"And remember!" He said as he made a slow turn, eyes resting on his audience one at a time, horizontal gladius doing the same, impressing his lesson on the gently bobbing vessel. "Just because you thought it it, doesn't mean your enemy hasn't... and if not, he'd certainly steal it..."

[Edreina]

The Svefra cried out sharply, blade clattering to the deck as Razkar struck her with the flat of his blade. But, he was talking, perfect time to lash out with her knee!

Or not.

Again she loosed a sound of pain and displeasure, hopping away on one foot, only to be knocked off balance by Razkar's next blow. The wind left her sails and she fell to the deck with an angry thump, glaring up at her so called lover. Apparently, the sight of a waifish woman's indignation with a Myrian warrior was enough to set a few of their class laughing openly. Razkar's spearing gaze as he drove a lesson home was enough to stifle all but the most persistent gigglers.

Growling with the menace of a baby dolphin, Edreina rose to her feet and darted at a particular individual on the edge, body low as she took advantage of his shaky balance, thrusting him over the edge of the ship where he landed with a splash. "Swim or laugh! Make a choice!" She called, grinning at this point. Her heart raced with excitement and giddiness; as much as she was loathe to admit it, sparring with Razkar always set her heart to pounding in a most gleeful manner. The ship was moving slow, today. He could catch up... Or someone could retrieve him. In any case, half of the class was too busy staring at her to laugh and the other half was now staring at the floundering giggler.

Floudering Giggler... Sounded like supper.

Shaking her head, Edreina turned her attention back to the Myrian, smiling broadly. Unlike the day prior, he was not openly making a fool of her, just pointing out her weaknesses so that she could continue working on them. Or perhaps it was their morning's warm-up exercises putting her in such a playful mood. If he wanted to play dirty, she could certainly oblige. "Mmmh..." She whimpered, rubbing her thigh gently, where he had hit her. Before his eyes, her fingertips skimmed up her leg, to her hip, along the line of her tattoo, and about the curve of her breast and still further up. Eyes growing round and lip protruding most pitifully, Edreina brought her knuckle up to her lips, sucking on it gently to ease the faint, ringing sting that still coursed through her hand.

With this in place, Djed filled her blue eyes so that, when Razkar met them, he would feel pity or her, nearly bordering remorse for his actions but more along the lines of wanting to make her feel better. Slowly she started to walk towards him, limbs long and supple as her toes skimmed the deck, enhancing the effect of her swaying, elongated stride. Djed sparked across her body ever so subtly, taking his mind from their spar to the movements of her body as she approached him.

"Razkar..." she whispered, lips curving up into a smirk as she pulled her reddened knuckled from between them. "Kiss it better?" She asked finally, offering him her hand.

What followed would be determined by Razkar himself. If he had somehow managed to evade the draw of her womanly wiles and the magic that accompanied it, she would be left looking foolish. What else was new, though, around him?

If instead he had fallen prey to them, taking her hand as she asked so gently, he would feel himself wrenched forward suddenly as the Svefra took advantage of his addled state. She would catch hold of his shoulders, then, and bring her knee up, stopping just shy of her favorite part of his anatomy - Such a shame it would be to injure that! - eyebrow cocking. Unless he seized hold of her, she would push him away, then, turning to grin at the utterly befuddled students then. "Never ever let your guard down. Especially not around a woman." A wink was all she managed before Razkar drew her back into the battle of wits and wiles.

(c) Wanda Endust

[Razkar]

"Razkar... Kiss it better?"

Oh, she has got to be joking...

If it had been a week before, perhaps Razkar wouldn't have been so cynical when her growling guard was dropped and a hip-swaying seductress replaced it. Gods, she was even sucking her finger! The Myrian cocked an eyebrow and sheathed his weapon. He could even feel some... stirrings... some part of him that rose and nudged him towards embracing her, ensuring that she wasn't harmed...

Anyone else, and Razkar would not have smiled the way he did.

Djed. She uses her wyrd on me, I think. Clever girl. But a day after I pulled the same trick on you, my lovely? Ah, well... some lessons are best learned the hard way.

"Edri?" He murmured, moving closer to her with concern on his face and his frowning brow crushing the mirth dancing in his eyes. "Are you injured?"

The Denvali watched the scene unfold with muttering concern. Well, only a matter of time before the Myrian went too far; after all, they're savages, right? Of course it wasn't it fault, no, he was only doing what came naturally to him. And now he's trying to make up for it, cupping her hand-

-the Svefra was suddenly a blur, arms shooting up, grabbing the Myrian's shoulders, jerking him forwards-

-just as his own shot down, crossed at the wrist, hands and palms slapping onto her knee as it jerked upward, stopping her dead. A tick passed; maybe less. Getting faster, Edri...

"Don't repeat the same trick too often," he said with a smirk, "And-"

Without a word her hands moved again, darting from his shoulder, back to her chest-

-then slamming towards him, palms out, just like he'd done chimes before, not nearly as strong but doubled, catching him unawares and-

-sending the Myrian staggering backwards, hands flailing for support, feet tripping over the rolling deck as a swell battered the prow just at the wrong moment-

Squelch!

"Oh, gods-"

Razkar's foot plopped into something wet, slimy and probably deposited by the cackling seagull above, and he lost enough balance to fly backward-

-landing hard on his arse but going with it, remembering the training he'd yet to impart.

Never stop moving. Never just lie there, or sit there, no matter what. In battle, still means dead.

His vision of the swaying deck, his smirking partner and the stunned crew and passengers was replaced by the rippling sail and the perfect, frosty sky, tucking his knees into his chest, throwing his arms back, palms down-

-landing on his feet and coming up into a crouch, pulling out both his weapons with a flourish, gladius held ahead in his left as a guard, hand ax cocked back, feral snarl on his face...

"Never ever let your guard down. Especially not around a woman."

... which didn't last. It never could, with that triumphant smile on her face and, yes, a very true lesson on her lips. Already Razkar heard Herliz's thundering, shattering tones in his head, a nightmare he'd nigh-soiled himself over so many nights in Taloba.

What's the matter, boy? Year or two outta the jungle and you forget females can be dangerous?! Got what you bloody deserved, now get back in there!

"Indeed they can." He said with a dangerous calm to his voice, dropping the weapons with a clatter and twisting his neck back and forth... not to mention wiping his foot. "And if you have a weapon in your hand, keep it there. But... in the interests of fairness..."

Razakr smiled, or something like it. The Denvali probably saw it was frightening; he hoped Edreina saw it for what it was. A Myrian male proud and flat-out aroused that his weak, barbarian female had proved as slippery and forbidding as any of his race.

The male felt his gnosis burn and darted forwards, lashing out with a right that would snap back - whether or not she blocked the feint, it did not matter - and his left shin would hammer diagonally upward into her right side, right jab to her stomach the coup de grace.

C'mon, female... show me your qaulity...

[Edreina]

"Indeed they can."

Eyes narrowing, Edreina spun back to face the Myrian, foot sliding out to offer her better balance. His weapons fell to the deck and, for an instant, the Svefra's brows knit with curiosity, wondering what he was playing at. With or without the weapons, he would surely best her.

"And if you have a weapon in your hand, keep it there. But... in the interests of fairness..."

And then, she saw it. Without weapons, they would be forced to draw in close to fight. He would feel the stretch and pull of her body as she moved to avoid him, or the power and ferocity when she struck out. If she had learned anything, it was that there was one utterly sure way to tighten Razkar's breeches. Another thing she had learned was off the odd way his wild take on foreplay set her to tingling as well. I do love the feeling of a weapon in my hand... The baudy thought crossed her mind before she could stop it, bringing a smile of childish amusement to her lips. But, despite the innocence of her expression, there was a flame to match Razkar's in her glinting blue eyes.

Myri granted Razkar speed, sending him hurtling at her quickly enough to compensate for the gentle rocking of the ship. Eyes widening at the suddenness of his attack, she swiped out with her forearm, meaning to knock away Razkar's jab only to meet empty air. His knee started to come up and, without thinking, Edreina lashed out with her palm, slamming the heel of her hand into the middle of his thigh. "Whoa!" She gasped, utterly surprised. For the first time in the history of them sparring, she had been able to predict what move would come next. It was not exactly uncommon for him to use that combination, but she was still proud of herself for noticing and being able to ward it off.

Until, that is, he knocked the wind from her sails. Her body doubled automatically, eyes watering and lips moving as she gasped like a decked fish. Indignant fire scorched from her eyes as she looked up at him through her blazing hair.

"Shyke-eating-" she brought her elbow up sharply, straightening her body at the same time- "Tskanna-petching-" a pale fist lashed out, and then another and again as she aimed a trio of blows at his mid-chest and then dropped the two following to aim at his stomach- "inbred-" her knee flew up and to the side, then was brought back down to the deck sharply so that her twisting momentum would launch another punch, this one at his jaw- "snake-licker!" Alright. So, her Myrian insults were far from applause-worthy, but she was trying to see if talking as she fought helped any. It as certainly a relief of her annoyance; so much so that she was grinning broadly as she danced back and away from him.

It may have been his "turn", but there was no such thing as taking turns in a real fight. This time, she lunged forward, dropping below whatever strike he leveled her way in order to wrap her arms about his thighs - face tauntingly close to his manhood, should he take the time to notice - before extending her powerful legs, lifting the dense man into the air. Once she had him there, however, she faltered faintly, unsure of what to do. So, doing what any inexperienced fighter would, she attempted to drop Razkar off and to the side of her, hoping to move out from under him and away at the same time.

That would never work out well, she would surely learn later. Once his revenge was exacted, the bright-eyed woman would rise from whatever heap he had knocked her into and ask how she could have executed the lift better if she ever used it again, at all.

OOCI know I godmodded a bit here. Let me know if I need to change it.

(c) Wanda Endust

[Razkar]

It took much to stroke the fire in her to an inferno, but once that conflaguration was born, well... suffice to say, even gazing too long would see you burnt.

"Shyke-eating-"

The Myrian gave a feral grunt as he swayed backward, avoiding the vicious elbow aimed at his jaw, smiling as he roared his critique and his lesson.

"Good! Elbows and knees! Best things to strike with, for they are hardest-"

"Tskanna-petching-"

Her fists blurred as she last out and his did the same, wrists and forearms knocking away her blows, impacts shuddering up his arms, trembling his body all the way to his crotch. Goddess, but this one knew just how to get to him.

"Speed is essential! Overwhelm your enemy with it, and-"

His knees bent as both his arms swooped out from the inside outward, knocking away the twin punches she'd leveled at his gut, seeking to pay him back for his ruthlessness.

"-never be predictable!"

"Inbred-"

Razkar jerked to his side and both his hands blocked her striking knee, much as she had done ticks before, but he had no time to congratulate her. She was moving fast now, fighting vicious and dirty and Myri, he was proud of her. Especially when she stomped down and swung out again, forcing him to back up sharply, knuckles passing so close by his face he could count the hairs on them.

"Good!" He barked, nearly euphoric in his appreciation. "One move creates another! Never stay still, never stagnate! Knee becomes punch becomes kick becomes-"

"Snake-licker!"

Oh, right, that's it!

But it wasn't apparently, or not what Razkar was intending. He swung out to put her back on the deck but she was already charging, lunging, under his haymaker and smacking around his waist-

-no-

-thighs?!

The Myrian stiffened for that crucial, fatal second, wondering if she'd feel the throbbing, embarrassing thing held tight by his breeches, giving her time to-

"Shyke!"

-hoist him clear off his feet and into the air, grasping at it futilely, his view changing yet again, shattering his-

Focus! You wish for ever-greater challenges, and now your love provides you with one! Adapt and overcome, Warrior of Taloba!

He landed heavily onto the deck but his mind was already buzzing, whirring, formulating and discarding retaliations in ticks, impact of his landing putting him on his stomach, at her side, the Svefra scrambling away from him-

-not far enough as he braced himself with his palms flat on the deck and swung his leg "upward", but moving parallel to the rolling wood, shin aimed at her fleeing legs-

-using the whirling motion to jerk himself upright with a grunt, hands snapping to his back and landing again, one leg sweeping her legs out from under her, the other hiking up to plant a foot on the ground-

With a yell the Myrian hurled himself onto the prone figure, one knee firm and heavy on her chest, left hand gripping her hair-

-the other vanishing to the small of his back and reappearing with all the speed the Mark of Myri could muster, fist halting in front of her face-

-now furnished with his new punching dagger, short, tapered blade wavering not a fraction before her face.

"Last lesson," he said, voice growling now but still audible, broken and choked with panting that was exhausted and erotic both, "Never fight fair. No shame in bringing a knife to a fistfight..."

In one solid, jerking movement he was on his feet, blade lowered and his other hand reaching down to help her back up... and a broad, indulgent smile on his scarred and pierced face.

"... as long as it means you win. That concludes the lesson for today."

He smiled as he question reached his ears, and in scorn of all who watched and perhaps judged, Razkar stroked her cheek with true affection.

"Next time, don't pause when you have your enemy in the air. Drop him and drop him hard, preferably on his knees, his joints... anywhere that can break or shatter." The Myrian rubbed his knee where she'd blocked him... then backed away and bowed his respects to his worthy sparring partner. "Much improved, tigress."