[The sun begins to set over Noctium, and Ravus makes his way to the open space behind the apartment buildings. He has no Credits yet with which to purchase a meal in the event of his defeat, but he does not plan on losing.
And with the assumption that Gladiolus is in a similar situation, it seems reasonable to assume the spoils awarded to the victor must come at a later date.
He does not see his opponent yet, but knowing how an impressive entrance can intimidate a foe, he approaches with long steps, letting his coat flare out behind him. One hand on the hilt of his saber, and no hesitation in his movements.
The light is fading from the sky, but the city lights provide illumination enough by which to fight.]
[Ravus' figure is always impressive and imposing- it' just how the man carries himself; probably from years of training put into it too.
It's true, Gladio doesn't have credits either, so the payback on the bet will have to wait for a while. Gladio won't mind putting that on a tab. Because he's not going to lose either
Compared to Ravus' impressive clothes, Gladio barely has anything. He has pants he arrived in and a jacket that Prompto helped him find. And he doesn't mind going shirtless underneath, he's been walking around like that for years. He's already waiting for Ravus at the lot and smirks when he spots him, walking over to meet him in the middle. There are no vehicles around and no people. Maybe someone passes every five minutes or so.]
Punctual, [he grins and then nods to the side-] Go for anything, but let us keep this place whole. We don't have money to repair it.
[Ravus snorts. The shadows make the ripples of muscles on Gladiolus' bare chest even more starkly noticable. Ravus' fist clenches, fighting back the urge to shove the man up against the nearest wall. Out of... anger? Surely that.]
I am not the one swinging around an oversized greatsword.
[Which is both 1. more unintended innuendo, and 2. absolutely ignoring the wildly destructive nature of Ravus' fighting style with his Magitek fist.
Ravus draws his saber and points the blade at Gladio.]
Ready yourself. My alliance with the prince does not mean I plan to hold back.
[And if Gladiolus was weak enough to be seriously injured by him, Ravus would be doing Noctis a favor by ridding him of an ineffectual Shield.]
[Whether or not Gladio is aware of what kind of impression he's leaving it's hard to tell. But he does note that Ravus is already irked before they even began.]
I am sure your magitek arm is the one that leaves craters in the ground. [He points out.
And then summons Genji blade that he won- the handle of it ornately decorated with beads, golden clasp and red leather- as long as a greatsword, but weighted like a katana. He turns it in his hand, making a loud swishing noise as he points with the tip at Ravus.]
And I can't let just anyone make close alliances with our King.
[An obvious taunt if there ever was one. Especially with that smirk he has.]
[Ravus' lips quirk into a quick smirk at the mention of those craters. He probably won't use that here, but he likes that Gladiolus knows he could.]
I am not 'just anyone'. And should you seek to hinder me, you shall learn, definitely, just how dangerous an enemy I can make.
[Electricity crackles as he lunges forward, crossing blades with Gladiolus. A showy, wasteful expenditure of power, but one he cannot resist. Gladiolus Amicitia may have grown enough not to fear him, but he will learn to respect him.]
[It's a move that Gladio easily blocks it off with his own sword- there's a grating sound of metal on metal as he slowly pushes the sword backward towards Ravus, the screech of the metal almost unbearable.
And then he smirks at him from where their blades are crossed, face to face-]
I already know that.
[And with a twist of his wrist, he pushes the rapier down to repel it, freeing his own sword in the process and making and swing for a slash from downside to up. He trusts Ravus can dodge this.]
He spins, getting his saber blade back between himself and the Shield. It is agressive from the start, no coy build-up or feeling out of opponents. Both of them are striking with the certainty that the other will block (or that if they can't, they deserve to take the hit).
Ravus' blade seems more suited for a style based on finesse, but that is not how Ravus fights. He strikes hard, bearing down on his enemy with all his strength, holding nothing back. No taunting words, just growls and grunts as he strikes, blocks, strikes again. Sparks fly, and sweat forms.
It's a relief, to be able to channel all of his frustrations into his blade like this. No need to think, no need to dwell. He can let this dance between himself and Gladiolus fill his mind and distract him from everything beyond this arena.
That is, until his strength begins to flag, cutting through the euphoria of battle.]
[The situation they are in is more than just a little frustrating, so Gladio totally gets it the way Ravus goes all out at him without holding back. Not that he expected anything less from him, but this was up for a few notches. He had to really keep his own focus in check all the time or he'd remain without a finger or two. It was a perfect workout he needed and an excellent distraction.
It had already gotten dark and the streetlights were the only light in this area. He doesn't know how long they've been going at it without relenting, but it has to be almost an hour now. What is time anyway?
When they separate from the last clash of their swords, neither getting an upper arm in battle, he grins, breath a bit raspy-]
I'm fine ending this in a draw if you're tired.
[Perhaps looking for another excuse to have a throwdown like this again.]
[The Amicitia has greatly improved his form, Ravus will grant him that. This has gone on longer than he'd expected it to. But the suggestion of a draw sends a pulse of annoyance in his temple.]
Nay, I will cease for naught but victory.
[Either Gladiolus yields, or the fight continues. Ravus isn't moving as quickly now, but neither is Gladio. They are quite evenly matched, damn the Amicitia.
Ravus raises his left hand, planning to end this once and for all, but the electricity in his magitek arm crackles, then fizzles. His arm goes stiff, suddenly unresponsive and heavy on his scarred shoulder. He'll never win like this. He is going to lose.
No, he won't allow it, it is unacceptable! Making a split-second decision, he rushes forward before Gladiolus has the opportunity to press his advantage. His lunge forces his opponent back towards the wall of the complex. Ravus needs manna to power his arm, to keep his weapon from becoming a handicap. And the way to get manna? It stands right before him.
With no thought other than the fierce need to win, he shoves his lips against Gladio's.]
Let him try. [Ravus grumbles. He has no doubt he could intimidate the man into fleeing his presence. Civilians rarely held their ground before him.
Cor would be a little more difficult to deal with, but that is a concern for later.
The Marshall's affronted tone is a splash of water against his anger. A moment of the flames dying down, though not enough to keep them from rising just as quickly. But it marks Cor as 'not an enemy' in this particular quarrel. For now.]
I'll not repeat it.
[He holds out his bleeding hand, if for no reason other than distracting Cor from talk with medical aid. It was on the... the whatever the network was called, if Cor had a working device and curiosity enough to seek it out.]
I'd rather not. Some assholes don't care if you lead a whole damn army, not when all they care about is their money...
[If Cor sounds like he's speaking from experience...well, he is.
The older man scowls and shakes his head in disbelief, even as he starts cleaning the wounds on Ravus' hand. He doesn't bother warning him about how the disinfectant can sting; they're both big tough warriors who've been thru this a million times.]
I'll read up on it later, but right now? I only ask that you don't kill him....just punch him a few times instead.
[He is not denying that Ravus' rage may be valid. He's only asking him to be reasonable about it...which is still a very tall order, nonetheless.]
[Ravus is still as Cor disinfects the wound. The pain barely registers. It is dwarfed by the ragged pain his mother's mention still evokes, and the phantom throb of a bullet hole in an arm he no longer has.]
He will not die by my hand this day. [Ravus no longer has a device to look up where he lives.] I am capable of restraint, Marshall. I stayed my hand from revenge for years.
[Which would be more convincing without the property damage he did. But it also speaks to the fact that Ravus is willing to take his vengeance ice cold if he can get it no other way.]
[Carver does not have the good sense to ask for any more details before the plans are made, but he figures-- only someone he's made plans with is going to be waiting to meet him, so after a cursory glance up and down, this stern stranger must be the guy.]
Uh, hey. [He gestures, turning to start heading for the bar.] It's this way.
[This is going swimmingly. Ravus' destroyed phone means he can't even go back to verify whether he introduced himself or not.
He course corrects to the direction Carver indicated, and hopes fiercely that the man hasn't chosen the type of establishment that has a man dressed as a mascot crow hanging outside of it.]
Yes, I do. Lunafreya. She has not arrived here yet.
[They are supposed to be fostering some sort of intimacy, so he forces himself to continue.]
She is the Oracle of our star, a high honor and a heavy burden upon her. When she arrives, [He is insistent upon 'when', because 'if' is too maddening to contemplate.] I plan be able to provide for her, that she may rest.
[Oh, those mundane brother of a magical sibling struggles.]
[He braces himself to receive the attack because he's not letting Ravus demolish buildings around them- they can't pay shit. It will hurt like nine circles of hell, but he'll manage.
-yet the punch doesn't really happen. Instead, there's a lunge, that he somewhat parries, getting the swords away from between them and- oh. Well, this type of "attack" certainly caught him off guard. Enough that he's frozen for a solid second, before kissing back. There's a gentle, brief glow from the gem on his chest when he returns the kiss though.
The kiss is not gentle, so Gladio isn't either. He lets his sword disappear back into armiger and wraps a hand around Ravus' waist- and then turns them so Ravus is the one pinned against the wall, and even lifted off the ground a bit. His teeth bite man's lower lip, the briefest of warnings before he deepens the kiss, his hold on him tightening.]
[Of course Gladiolus would not merely let himself be kissed. Astrals forbid a Lucian prove useful. Ravus is pressed against the wall, lifted off his feet by Gladio's brute strength.
Gladiolus disarms and engages in this new battle. Ravus lets his saber drop so he can bury his fingers into Gladio's hair. He gives it a tug as he opens his mouth to lick at Gladio's lips.
As they kiss, function returns slowly to his left arm, first with a twitch of metal fingers, then in the joints of his arm. He could shove them apart, pick up his sword, and keep fighting... or they could keep up this skirmish. It's a simple matter of coming out of it with less manna, or with significantly more than he started with.
Logically, it is no contest. And maybe Gladiolus' shirtless form will be less frustrating to look upon once Ravus has indulged himself. One can only hope.]
[Oh, an important sister; that only makes Carver think of Marian, and while he's not, like. It isn't that he doesn't miss her, but he also doesn't not miss her? It's nuanced.
Still, he nods, because he understands that fundamental feeling of protecting the people who mean the most, if nothing else.]
Right. I know what you mean. My sister Bethany-- from the, uh, thing-- she's always telling me I don't have to do everything.
[But he really, honestly does, is the implication! Of course he does!]
[The place is technically in Carver's name, if only because he went by the Embassy first, but all the better to keep his sister safe if they share a living space. Pure logic!]
We're both used to more crowded conditions than this place, so it works out. Everyone gets their own room, and everything.
And she does not consider it a restriction upon her freedom?
[Interesting. Ravus wonders if Lunafreya would feel the same. Here, she could be allowed to live as she pleased, and that might not include her over-protective brother hovering about. But it is encouraging, to hear that another pair of siblings have made such an arrangement work. For the short time they've been here, at least.]
Is it you two alone, or have you others in your household?
What? No. Trust me, she's having a great time in this place.
[The specific reasons why aren't his to tell, he thinks-- Bethany's business and how much she enjoys having her own room in a house with her brother compared to where she'd been before, she could explain that herself one day. But he says it frankly: no, of course not, he's not her keeper.]
My other sister-- she's not here, but one of her friends from home is. He comes around sometimes. That's all of us.
[A relief, to hope that in spite of its strangeness, this place might offer a change for his sister's happiness.]
There are a number of others from my star here. I have been assigned to board with one of them, though he is at least one of the more tolerable of them.
[They keep walking through the city towards Carver's bar.]
Have you 'synced' with any others yet? I wonder how much we must learn of one another to achieve it.
[Hopefully they can at least afford a drink with their conversation.]
[He is being useful. This is providing manna for both of them, is it not? There's a sizzle from synchrony between them, making Gladio feel a tad bit lightheaded as if urging him to get more of this. And Ravus is not fighting back, even when his arm starts functioning again. Instead, he just grips onto him and Gladio happily gives into this.
Maybe they'll regret it. Maybe they won't. But it's currently helping with their cravings and needs and he's not going to deny it.
From Ravus' lips, Gladio's move to his chin, then up to his ear and down to the neck, biting and dragging his teeth across the skin, his hands gripping firmly onto him, fingers digging into the hips to keep himself from rocking forward. He's not sure how much appreciated that will be.]
[Mostly for drink money, ironically enough. He shrugs-- that's all he's bothered to get into so far; his actual twin sister being here has provided enough daily hugs and the benefits of already knowing everything about her, so... that family sync rules. They get by.]
Some people think it goes faster if you know someone better, but I haven't run any tests.
[Frankly that sounds a little awkward... Holding hands for drink money is, comparatively, just fine.]
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