Set this place on fire
Who: got_it_memorizd and princessprodigy
When: [backdated to] Monday, 30 May, sunrise
Where: The field in the park
What: After (literally) bumping into Azula last week, it's time to have a friendly duel at sunrise. No pistols necessary.
Why: Because Vatheon needs more arsonists and Azula needs friends. Or something.
Axel was not and never would be a morning person. Granted, his sleeping habits had gotten progressively worse over the course of his life, but he'd never been good at getting up early, no matter how interesting the reason. And so he had groggily left a note for Roxas and Xion (jeez, even they weren't up yet, and they were much earlier risers) so they wouldn't think he'd been kidnapped in the night or something, then threw on his coat, shoved his gloves into his pocket, and portaled on over to the park.
It was something of a pity sunrise had to happen so early--it really was a pretty sight. As much as Axel enjoyed sunsets, their early morning counterpart was just as pretty, even underwater. Sure, the colors were more diffused and the light wasn't as bright, but maybe that was better. Early morning + bright sunlight = headache, so far as he was concerned. It was in the little victories.
He slid out of his coat and draped it over a branch--he'd gotten used to sparring with Xion in jeans and a tee-shirt; the coat almost felt too constrictive anymore. Sure, it still served its purpose (and looked damn snazzy), but there was something freeing about casting it aside when it wasn't needed. Useful though it was, the coat remained a reminder of something he preferred to keep on a back burner of his mind. He had opted for long sleeves today, though, figuring it wouldn't do to reveal the scars on his arms. He hadn't been born a... Firebender, as it were, and practicing with his element had had its consequences once upon a time. He wasn't going to let his opponent see that, however; he wasn't ashamed of them, but he had a feeling Azula would see them as a weakness or a flaw in his art. He wanted this match to be on as equal ground as possible: he wasn't going to give her an inch of high ground, despite her lofty title.
Tugging on his gloves, he hoisted himself up into the tree where he had hung his coat, folding his arms and leaning against the trunk, his ankles crossed to wait for his sparring partner. He had a good feeling about this.
When: [backdated to] Monday, 30 May, sunrise
Where: The field in the park
What: After (literally) bumping into Azula last week, it's time to have a friendly duel at sunrise. No pistols necessary.
Why: Because Vatheon needs more arsonists and Azula needs friends. Or something.
Axel was not and never would be a morning person. Granted, his sleeping habits had gotten progressively worse over the course of his life, but he'd never been good at getting up early, no matter how interesting the reason. And so he had groggily left a note for Roxas and Xion (jeez, even they weren't up yet, and they were much earlier risers) so they wouldn't think he'd been kidnapped in the night or something, then threw on his coat, shoved his gloves into his pocket, and portaled on over to the park.
It was something of a pity sunrise had to happen so early--it really was a pretty sight. As much as Axel enjoyed sunsets, their early morning counterpart was just as pretty, even underwater. Sure, the colors were more diffused and the light wasn't as bright, but maybe that was better. Early morning + bright sunlight = headache, so far as he was concerned. It was in the little victories.
He slid out of his coat and draped it over a branch--he'd gotten used to sparring with Xion in jeans and a tee-shirt; the coat almost felt too constrictive anymore. Sure, it still served its purpose (and looked damn snazzy), but there was something freeing about casting it aside when it wasn't needed. Useful though it was, the coat remained a reminder of something he preferred to keep on a back burner of his mind. He had opted for long sleeves today, though, figuring it wouldn't do to reveal the scars on his arms. He hadn't been born a... Firebender, as it were, and practicing with his element had had its consequences once upon a time. He wasn't going to let his opponent see that, however; he wasn't ashamed of them, but he had a feeling Azula would see them as a weakness or a flaw in his art. He wanted this match to be on as equal ground as possible: he wasn't going to give her an inch of high ground, despite her lofty title.
Tugging on his gloves, he hoisted himself up into the tree where he had hung his coat, folding his arms and leaning against the trunk, his ankles crossed to wait for his sparring partner. He had a good feeling about this.