WHO: Zelgadis and others just get in here ok
WHERE: A vacant lot all groomed and abused for sword&sorcery practice
WHEN: Next week...pick a day
WARNINGS: Idk yet
SUMMARY: Magic and swords and spars and spectators and whatever else happens happens ok? ok
FORMAT: No (whatever you want)
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good lord zel get a job )
But for all that needed to be done, it didn't mean she couldn't drop in on the person she saw most frequently. She popped into that familiar lot with a practiced warp, landing seated atop one of the still-standing but much abused earthen pillars of Zelgadis's own creation.
The heels of her boots clunked dully against rock, but she made no overtures of greeting to catch his attention. She was content enough to watch, for the moment.
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It wasn't doing a whole lot of good, however. That became apparent very quick, despite the fact that the ground around him was boiling a little more than the ground behind his shield. For all of a few seconds, at least.
Deja vu. On fire. Again. But this time, the source wasn't a fragment of his world's head honcho of evil.
It was his girlfriend.
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Digu Volt was lighting, as directed as it could be for its nature, not worth underestimating as being as small-time as its size. It didn't need to look like Zeus' wrath to carry the impact, especially when the caster behind it had extra oomph to spare. And to be fair, Zelgadis was getting fairly annoyed that he was being so visibly spanked. He wasn't even trying to let her win, okay.
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Now she looked to be showing injury to the fight; regen had already worn off, and the heave of her chest as she panted for breath was more apparent now. Dodging seemed less likely now, but from the glow of her hands, the fight was not yet over. She hadn't even taken a knee, as he'd done to mere poison. She looked like she wanted to, though.
But it wasn't surrender that came out--it wasn't even cure. Like fire against fire, now was electricity versus electricity, and Bolt two came down from a cloudless sky, blue and ( ... )
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He reeled, smoking, and for a few seconds he forgot what he was angry about - just that he was. That...probably had something to do with being struck by lightning. He was still much more fleshy on the inside, after all. And nauseated - where was Slyphiel and a quick Dicleary when it was actually needed?
He needed Power Words, mumbled or otherwise, spat as he stood with his legs spaced to keep him upright. Dust rose and spun along with the wind he called -- "D-Diem Wind," -- the speed rising rapidly and sending anything not stuck to the ground a ways away from him. Clear the field, clear his head?
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He realized winning wasn't going to make him feel better, and dropped to his knees and sagged. One hand lifted to numbly swipe the last shred of sleeve dangling uselessly at the shoulder, still steaming from the lightning strike.
Yield, he thought, but wouldn't say.
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Terra fell once more, but it seemed more of an intentional drop this time; her legs splayed to her sides, feet pulled in, and one palm down held her steady, mere inches from where Zelgadis knelt. Her other still-glowing hand crossed that short distance, laying carefully against that tangle of wire. "Antidote" was a murmur, but just like that the power fled her, chasing through his body, consuming and destroying what toxin she'd inflicted there.
She exhaled in a hard puff, but not even the cuts on her face kept her cheeks from pulling back into a smile. "You've gotten better."
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He grunted, grumbling something that may have been words in thought, but not necessarily in execution.
Poison-free, yet still feeling scummy. That was him.
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"Zel?" she called, trying not to let the worry overpower her voice.
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"I--huh?" He was suddenly unsure if there had been more words before that. "What?"
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With "Cure three," a glittering barrage of white stars burst to life like fireworks, if the sound of explosions were replaced by chimes. Every scrape was sealed up, every bruise blotted out, blisters undone; in the few seconds it took for the spell to run its course, Terra had visibly gone from beaten and bloody battlefield escapee to looking like she'd just rolled out of bed. The same could have been said for him, if he ever wore his damage as superficially as she, but the spell burrowed beneath the skin as well. Even muscle aches were taken care of ( ... )
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His shoulders sagged when he exhaled, all said and done, and he caught her look on the tail end of that once-over.
"I need to learn that one."
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