[ the sight—and taste—of his own blood is not one that he enjoys, but in the absence of anything else, it helps him get a handle on his situation. it centers him and reminds him of the purpose he doesn’t really want to bear. there is no joy for him to be found in battle, but the sooner he can end it, the less everyone else has to suffer.
the dagger is fast. dextera doesn’t plan to use a weapon in this fight, since he hopes to leave no lasting damage to the people he might encounter, and so his only goal as it cuts through the air with artful precision is to make sure it doesn’t hit him anywhere vital. he throws his arms up in a clumsy block, but it does the trick. though the dagger cuts his forearm, the angle and timing keep it from sinking into him. thrown off its course, it clatters to the floor. dextera will leave it for someone else.
having taken two hits without any counterattack, dextera knows he can’t just stand here and allow eustace to ‘stop’ him. as soon as the dagger hits the floor, dextera drops his arms. as he does, a light seems to trail from his fingers; he curls his hands into fists and hopes the surprise appearance of a kind of magic will give him a little time as he charges to knock eustace breathless.
with nothing but wishful thinking, he hopes one hit with his purification behind will be enough. his fist surrounded by an energy that seems to go beyond burning in its white-hot light, he aims squarely for eustace’s chest. ]
no subject
the dagger is fast. dextera doesn’t plan to use a weapon in this fight, since he hopes to leave no lasting damage to the people he might encounter, and so his only goal as it cuts through the air with artful precision is to make sure it doesn’t hit him anywhere vital. he throws his arms up in a clumsy block, but it does the trick. though the dagger cuts his forearm, the angle and timing keep it from sinking into him. thrown off its course, it clatters to the floor. dextera will leave it for someone else.
having taken two hits without any counterattack, dextera knows he can’t just stand here and allow eustace to ‘stop’ him. as soon as the dagger hits the floor, dextera drops his arms. as he does, a light seems to trail from his fingers; he curls his hands into fists and hopes the surprise appearance of a kind of magic will give him a little time as he charges to knock eustace breathless.
with nothing but wishful thinking, he hopes one hit with his purification behind will be enough. his fist surrounded by an energy that seems to go beyond burning in its white-hot light, he aims squarely for eustace’s chest. ]