caughtinanetwork

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Everyone, we're coming up on a very important day, the last of its kind before we turn over to a new year.

As with all such momentous occasions, I think we at the Villa should host a holiday party. On that date, precisely.

[This is actually a message intended for other Villa residents, but whatever, the rest of the bubble will get to enjoy the rare sight of the young reaper looking, dare we say, a little jolly? A little affected by holiday spirit?

Actually, more like he's being a fanboy.]

Of course, I'm speaking of December twenty-first, being the last day of the year that is a perfect palindrome, the numbers of the month being a mirror-image of the date.

[Good old 12/21.

Death the Kid's fingers, gloved and interlaced, tuck up under his chin as he exhales with contentment (and a little longing, that total weirdo), letting out a plume of steam. The moment is abruptly shattered by a snowball planting itself against the side of his head, startling him out of his reverie.

It's a good thing the SFC cuts out when it does. No one should witness the Snowball Retribution Apocalypse (Shinigami Version).]

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Whether it's in two hours or twenty days, the outcome will be the same; you'll be soundly defeated.

I suggest you decide how soon you'd like to get started on improving your technique.

Then let's make this happen. Come at me, bro.

[Finding his soul isn't difficult; he's been glaring it down enough times already.

There's a very, very brief flicker on the SFC screen, and following the tap of one sallow finger on Dirk's shoulder, Kid's voice comes from two sources.]

I'm already here.

[Dirk may have been the only person around to train himself, but that doesn't mean he'd been sloppy about it. If there's one thing he needed to learn to do more than anything else, it was fight, and for all he makes up silly stories about his Katana, he's proud of knowing how to use it. And considering how jumpy he still can be around people, well.

It's probably no surprise that his automatic reaction to the tap on his shoulder is to take out his katana and attack.]

[Even if he's self-trained, those reflexes are really something else.

Someone else might have been too surprised by the sudden arrival of a katana to even have time to dodge; Kid is not only somewhat familiar with the seeming popularity of a sylladex, he's gifted with twitch reflexes and flexibility beyond that of humans.

He turns sideways, the keen edge of his sword skimming the air a mere half-inch from the front lapels of his jacket. The inevitable follow-up warrants a step to the side, and this time, something metallic scrapes along the flat of the blade, as the back of Kid's hand slides down the length of the weapon.

Sure did just deflect an attack with his ring, totally heedless of the jet of bright sparks that ensues, stepping forward--

--and intending on finger-flicking at his forehead with the other hand as soon as he's close enough.

Hi, Dirk.]

[The flick connects, but barely- it's clear that the follow-up isn't going to do anything, and now that he's realized that it's Kid and isn't simply blindly reacting, he flashsteps back, several feet away from Kid, katana still held readily in hand but not about to charge in on the offensive for the moment.]

Do you greet everyone that way?

[He doesn't reach up to rub at his forehead where kid flicked him. Instead, he resettles his shades.]

Let's do this.

[And there it is again -- a technique that isn't some magical or supernatural phenomenon, just sheer, practiced skill, superb for something so mundane.

He may have called it graceless, but the fact is, it's impressive.

Just imagine, then, how much more formidable he might be, if given just the right push. To have a direct hand in the molding and shaping of another's greater learning and experience...

The apple really doesn't fall far from his father's proverbial tree.]

Only the ones with promise.

[He places his hands into his pockets, and a moment later, he isn't there.

Dirk's only warning is the stirring of air behind him as Kid's heel sweeps out at the backs of his knees.]

[There's no time to retort. Before he can even open his mouth, Kid is simply gone. There's no time to think, just to move, and the puff of air has him moving, just barely dodging being tripped up.

This time, he doesn't stop just because he's dodged. Instead, he moves again, flashstepping past the range Kid had appeared in before.

Already, he's beginning to see just what Kid meant when he talked about keeping up with a reaper. This is more than he was expecting- but like hell will he give up so quickly.]

[The heel of his shoe catches against naught but air, and letting the momentum of his sweep carry him around about-face, he observes the way Dirk moves. He's testing his range? No, Kid may be reading too much into it, he might just be seeking room to navigate, but still--

Once again, gone, and then the reaper's lean form is inside that ever-changing sphere called Another's Personal Space, gold eyes like concentric circles constricting in focus independent of any relation with any human's, strange for a number of reasons.

Such as the fact that he's upside-down, as he's descending in mid-somersault, twisting midway to drop his heel towards Dirk's head.

How the hell Kid manages such momentum with a low ceiling to work within is anyone's guess.]

...

[And yet, for all the flurry of activity, not a single stick of furniture has been harmed in the brief skirmish. Too precise to tolerate bumbling through objects, Kid instead chooses paths that take him around obstacles to get at his target.]

Edited 2012-12-28 02:27 (UTC)

[This time, it's a matter of ducking to the side, rather than getting a huge amount of distance. Maybe he had to duck a little himself, considering the low ceiling, but the important part is getting out of the way.

He's not going to settle for dodging for much longer, though. It's time to take the offensive, even if this isn't a true battle.

In a moment, his katana is stowed away again, pulled out by a puppet. It's not quite Cal, but it has the same floppy limbs and ventriloquist dummy's face.

He doesn't hesitate, simply shifts into constant flashstepping, moving around Kid, barely appearing as a black shadow when he pauses, keeping the dummy in the air. Within moments, it's flying at Kid.]

[Ready to push the offensive, Kid straightens up with a haughty toss of his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. For as much as he told himself he was testing his capabilities, this is turning out to be kind of--

Wait. What the hell is-- the sudden introduction of some kind of floppy-limbed doll brings Kid up short, and in his mute surprise, he pulls his hands from his pockets, taking a step backwards.]

...What--

[THE HELL.

He's fighting him with a doll! A doll! He's never been so humiliated in his life!]

[That dark silhouette's flash-stepping progress around Kid is cut off by the reaper's hand snapping out and grasping Dirk by the throat about as much as the collar of his shirt--

Really, how dare he! He's a reaper!]

Get that hideous thing out of my siHRFH--?!

[Oh yeah, that would be Kid catching a face full of puppet.]

[That isn't the kind of reaction he's expecting. Kid has claimed to be much better than him, and was already well on his way to proving that, but Dirk was not expecting a hand at his throat.

Maybe later he'll appreciate Kid's reaction to the puppet, figure out a way to use it against him.

Now, he tries to gasp in a breath, and grabs at Kid's hand with his own free one, trying to find a weak place to dig in his nails. Anything to make kid let go.]

[It's noteworthy, particularly given Kid's pointed effort to literally not lay a hand on him when this started, to the point of giving himself a handicap. This is something more personal, too visceral a reaction to be anything less than instinct.

He's not afraid of the doll so much as utterly disgusted by the way its limbs go in too many different directions at once, and now it was in his face!

Dirk may indeed dig nails in and hope to wrench him free, but ultimately, Kid makes the choice to let go, both realizing he had him in a choke-hold and he needed to breathe, and in favor of trying to tear the offending thing away.]

How dare you bring something so foul, that's not playing fair!

[As soon as Kid lets go, Dirk goes into a crouch. He lifts one hand to his throat, and breathes carefully. Behind his shades, his eyes are fixed on Kid.]

It's just a fucking puppet, not a big deal. But if it offends your delicate sensibilities this much, I suppose I might be persuaded to leave it alone for a while.

[He rises to his feet again, walking back several paces until he's further from Kid than he was the past two times.]

I didn't think playing fair would matter to a reaper who supposedly has so much more power.

My sensibilities are hardly delicate, you obviously have deplorable taste, keeping something like that around!

[That repetitive banging would be the slap of his shoe sole against the floor, as he stomps to lend vehemence to his point, stiffly pointing in the direction of the offending puppet.]

Fairness and balance always matter, no matter the context! Do you really think a reaper would try to educate anyone by giving them more than they could truly handle? Implying otherwise makes me sick!

[Wow, that sure is a temper tantrum. Dirk would be amused if it weren't so irritating. But in that case, he'll just put the puppet back in his sylladex. That done, he spreads his hands, showing off the fact that they're empty now.]

Fine. Since you need this to be to your standards. Now, are we going to keep doing this, or are you going to rag on my choice in weapons more?

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