[INCOMPLETE]
Who: Seifer, Squall
When: beginning of the unsealed powers event, right after this.
Where: up north, toward the borderline of the city.
Rating: PG13 for now.
Warnings: violence, language.
Summary: Squall and Seifer doing what rivals do best: beating the crap out of each other.
Yeah. Seifer was positive of it now.
Leonhart definitely had a death wish.
Not that he minded - oh, no, of course not. He had taken the brunette down from his high horse many times before, and he certainly had no problem doing it again. If that's what Squall wanted (and it obviously was), Seifer was more than happy to knock him back down into his place. Again and again. Over and over. However many times it took before the stubborn bastard finally got into his head that he can't play hero to Seifer's anti-hero all the time.
He'd have to learn, eventually.
And so, it had been with great amusement that he had set out from the place he was staying, heading in the general direction of the location Squall had given him (however brief it may have been). Hyperion was at his side, glinting in the dim light, and his hand moved down every so often, gloved fingers brushing affectionately over the hard steel. If he had to, if Squall forced him to, he'd make a couple more marks - just for good measure - on that pretty little face of his. To make up for the one that, you know, Squall gave him.
Didn't matter that it had been in self-defense. Who cared about that shit, anyway?
It took him fifteen, maybe twenty minutes, to get to his destination, which vaguely surprised him. He had expected it to take quite a bit longer, but as long as he was there now, it didn't really matter in the end. His chin brushed against his shoulder when he looked to the side, training bright eyes on the dark landscape in front of him.
"Here, kitty."
When: beginning of the unsealed powers event, right after this.
Where: up north, toward the borderline of the city.
Rating: PG13 for now.
Warnings: violence, language.
Summary: Squall and Seifer doing what rivals do best: beating the crap out of each other.
Yeah. Seifer was positive of it now.
Leonhart definitely had a death wish.
Not that he minded - oh, no, of course not. He had taken the brunette down from his high horse many times before, and he certainly had no problem doing it again. If that's what Squall wanted (and it obviously was), Seifer was more than happy to knock him back down into his place. Again and again. Over and over. However many times it took before the stubborn bastard finally got into his head that he can't play hero to Seifer's anti-hero all the time.
He'd have to learn, eventually.
And so, it had been with great amusement that he had set out from the place he was staying, heading in the general direction of the location Squall had given him (however brief it may have been). Hyperion was at his side, glinting in the dim light, and his hand moved down every so often, gloved fingers brushing affectionately over the hard steel. If he had to, if Squall forced him to, he'd make a couple more marks - just for good measure - on that pretty little face of his. To make up for the one that, you know, Squall gave him.
Didn't matter that it had been in self-defense. Who cared about that shit, anyway?
It took him fifteen, maybe twenty minutes, to get to his destination, which vaguely surprised him. He had expected it to take quite a bit longer, but as long as he was there now, it didn't really matter in the end. His chin brushed against his shoulder when he looked to the side, training bright eyes on the dark landscape in front of him.
"Here, kitty."