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[nevermercy]

CHARACTERS: Agravaine (nevermercy) & Ares (wars_passion)
DATE/TIME: May 3, evening
LOCATION: Brooklyn
RATING: R
WARNINGS: Swearing, lots of violence, blood, etc.
SUMMARY: When you hit a lady, you're not allowed to get away with it.

Comments

[wars_passion]

It hadn't been hard to find Julian's apartment once he found the paperwork he had had him and his brother fill out for the cage fighting. AT the time he had been decently impressed by the brothers, but now Arron had one thing on his mind. Vengeance. Arron was not the White Knight Eleanor had claimed he was; he was a down and dirty fighter with a taste for blood that couldn't be rivaled. He had a problem with macho men who thought that hitting a girl half their size was something to be proud of. His drunk ass father had believed that.

A little rain and some quiet threats for stronger weather had never bothered him before and wasn't going to start as he watched the man exit his apartment building. Arron wore his black leather jacket and black quick dry pants to keep the rain at bay. He had fought the urge to light a cigarette as he waited as the scent just might be picked up if the kid was sensitive to it.

Keeping far enough away, he saw him turn the corner into a back alley. Probably cutting through to the next street, he thought to himself. But Arron wouldn't let him get to the next street. As soon as the dark of the alley enveloped them, the only light that of the raindrops catching street lamps' silver glow, Arron rushed forward plowing his shoulder into the kid to knock him off his feet.

[nevermercy]

And knocked him off his feet he did -- but Agravaine didn't fall to his knees, having been propelled forward enough to catch his balance before his face met the asphalt. His steps were clumsy, but he was quick to turn on his heel to face the man who'd thought to charge him like some wild animal.

There was a moment where he relaxed just slightly, unaware of why Arron might've been after him, if he'd been after him. Completely ignorant of the other's connection to Euterpe, the knight held his palms up in a 'what gives' sort of motion, lowering his guard by accident. But he could tell something was wrong with this situation. Something didn't sit right.

"What the hell, man?" he spat out, his tone a mixture of confusion and irritation.

[wars_passion]

A smirk grew on Arron's lips that held that love of a fight and intent to hurt that he enjoyed seeing in his fighters. A few quick steps forward, he grabbed one of the upheld arms and swung him into the closest wall. "I thought you enjoyed impromptu fights." He growled before punching him.

When in the thralls of a fight Arron had little mind to have a discussion with his target. It was hard enough to get the words he did out. His animal instincts jumped full force into the main portions of his brain speeding up the adrenaline production. "Now fight!" The words held the base of his power that he was still unaware of. His innate ability to incite fighting made those few words he said etch into the mind and heart as if he had just insulted what the man held closest to his heart.

[nevermercy]

Agravaine's head snapped to the side with the force of the punch, the taste of blood filling his mouth when he lapped at the laceration on his lip out of habit. So this was how his evening was going to go? Fine. He hadn't had a good fight in a while. The other man's words were hardly needed in order for him to retaliate with a fist aimed toward the side of his head, as the hit alone was all he'd needed to even consider fighting back.

Maybe it was because he'd been a knight once, but he never backed away from a fight, especially if it was a one-on-one. Running away was not an option. It wasn't smart -- it was cowardly. And to die in a fight, in battle, had once been a great honor.

But now he wasn't thinking of dying. He was thinking of rearranging Arron's face.

[wars_passion]

His ears buzzed from the blow to his head, but he pushed through it having been in fights all his life. Arron reeled to the side at the force of the punch, using the momentum he spun around and lifted his elbow up to strike Julian's face once more, then continuing with his leg sweeping upward to hit his hips and throw off his balance again.

The rain poured down harder around them as if the heavens cried out for the fight. Arron wouldn't stop until forced to by the bloody hand of his opponent or he felt that he was no longer a threat. Either way, it would take an act of god to get him to not kill the man.

[nevermercy]

Thunder crackled above them in the aftermath of lightning behind the buildings, daring to boom like some sick applause to cheer them on. Also accustomed to being in fistfights, Agravaine -- or Julian as the other knew him -- ducked to avoid the elbow, but was unable to dodge the leg, and toppled over to his side. He was quick to get back on his feet, understanding that the lower one was to the ground, the more disadvantageous any move was.

Not a second was wasted as he sprung forward, his own leg coming out with every intention of tripping Arron and knocking him off his own feet.

[wars_passion]

Arron moved out of the way of Julian's leg gracefully but slid on the wet pavement almost losing his balance. Grabbing onto a trash can to keep on his feet, he made mistake of turning his back to his opponent. A rookie mistake, though fighting in the mists of a thunderstorm were never something you could anticipate.

[nevermercy]

If Agravaine cared that the fighting conditions weren't at their best, he didn't show it, at least not in his face. He'd fight in the snow if he had to, slipping and sliding until he could get his hits in. He wasn't like Arron, who was trained, skilled -- the ex-knight fought like a madman, only pausing for breaths when he needed to. There was enough grace in his movements to make it clear that he had experience, but in the end, he was vicious and uncaring of how his opponents ended up.

That vulnerable back was taken as an opening, and rather than thinking it could be a trap, he kicked out to knock the trash can from beneath Arron's hands, and aimed an elbow at his spine.

[wars_passion]

The trashcan crashed against the cement as it was forced from Arron's hands. Arron had to take a quick step forward to keep himself from falling on his face, but the step was not helpful as he felt a sharp pain jab into his back. Grunting his pain off, he fell to his knees. Expecting another attack now that he was down, Arron kicked back only to graze by Julian's figure but used the time that he would likely use in dodging to roll to his back and flip up back onto his feet.

Arron grinned at Julian and rushed forward, swinging a right hook toward his face and jabbing the man's stomach with his left. The adrenaline rushed through his blood giving Arron a high. This was what he lived for. He could tell Julian wasn't professional, but at least he had fight in him. This would be a fight Arron would speak on later, a true grit and what each person really needed in their life. He was no longer just fighting for Eleanor's sake or his mother's sake if he bothered to think about the psychology behind it, he was fighting because he loved the feel.

[nevermercy]

Clearly, Arron wasn't giving him enough credit. The hook was avoided with a backward jerk of his head -- he'd feel that in his neck later -- but he couldn't dodge the hit to his stomach. With a few clumsy steps, he backed the fuck up, keeping away from the wall so as to not make himself more vulnerable. Rain slid through his hair and skid down his face, not quite yet soaking him to the bone.

Eyes on the other man, he spat out the blood that'd been pooling in his mouth, not breaking his gaze for a second. The back of his throat tasted of copper; the breath he took in was ragged. Strained.

But he'd keep fighting until the only option left was unconscious.

[wars_passion]

Arron's hair clumped in small groups as the rain drenched his head. It started to curl at the ends and stuck to his face. Lighting flashed across the sky above them, thunder quickly following as the thunderstorm gained speed.

As his opponent backed up, Arron quickly grabbed a trashcan lid and threw it at him. Swinging his leg up, he pushed his body forward so that even if Julian dodged the lid he would still have his foot hit the man's face. If Julian didn't dodge the lid than there would be far more power behind the attack.

[nevermercy]

Well, he wasn't about to let himself get hit by a trashcan lid. The clunky piece of metal soared over Agravaine's head as he ducked, the lid clanking loudly against the wall behind him, though he didn't escape unharmed: that foot caught him at the temple, knocking him back into that same wall rather viciously. His skull might have made an audible sound when it connected with the brick if not for the rain, and sounds of rumbling thunder.

Head swimming as a concussion and dizziness began to plague his skull, he made a weak grab for the abandoned lid and flung it rather pathetically at Arron in some attempt to inflict some harm as a headache began to throb at his forehead.

[wars_passion]

The trash lid grazed his cheek slicing it open as it passed and Arron dodged. Another flash of lighting and crash of thunder echoed closer to the alley. As Arron's eyes adjusted back to the darkness, a memory of a fight long ago flashed in his mind. The trash lid was a shield and spears and arrows whizzed by his head. Julian's image turned into that of a young soldier in bronze plate.

Anger and passion raged to life inside of Arron. He was stronger than him; he was better than this mere mortal. Crying out in a rage, he lept forward again and grabbed Julian by the back of his neck. Every chance he got he would hit the man with his free hand in the stomach, but kept his grip so Julian couldn't get away from him.

[nevermercy]

This time, Agravaine put up much less of a fight. He didn't quite lose his will to retaliate, nor did he go limp just yet, but he made no move to yank himself away, allowing the Greek to use him freely as a punching bag. The nausea that'd been surfacing following the impact with the wall had his knees nearly buckling, threatening to send him crashing toward the asphalt.

Out of some vain attempt to get something, anything, in, he reached up to catch hold of Arron's jacket, gripping the leather as tightly as his fingers would allow him. Disorientation had him literally collapsing up against the other man, disabling him from not only movement, but speech. Clear, concise thought.

This was a battle he wouldn't be able to win.

[wars_passion]

Another roll of the thunder brought more images flashing in his mind of more battles. The clinging of swords and scent of blood mixed with sweat filled his senses. His punches were becoming more precise and he wouldn't stop until the man fell. It was his way. The memories were overwhelming his sense of reality though and he could feel a headache start at the base of his skull and pressure filling his head.

Wrapping his hands together around Julian's neck, he could feel the final attempts to keep up. Arron pulled his head down and spun him into the opposite wall.

[nevermercy]

It was probably a miracle that the knight just narrowly avoided smashing his skull into the brick, but his shoulder connected harshly with it instead, and the sudden bright flash of pain had Agravaine crumpling uselessly to his knees. The sudden urge to vomit had him leaning over onto his hands, putting him into yet another vulnerable position as he tried to focus, and failed miserably.

His head was swimming. There were stars. It was hard to breathe. And painful. He didn't realize it then, but somewhere in his chest cavity, a rib was fractured -- maybe more, hard to tell.

The only thing he could focus on was a bottle cap laying half a foot away from his fingertips.