#so im tryign to diversify them a bit

[magicalmanhattanproject]

Fight scene practice!! If you can still write a bit of Empires season 1, I'd love to see Pix and fWhip fighting with a trident and a sword respectively. Maybe one of them was pranking the other one and almost got away, but got outpaced in the chase and decided it would be more fun to turn and fight instead of running?

"Well, if we're going to be pulling off this heist together, we should probably know how each of us fights," Pix says, shrugging his shirt back on. "How about a spar? First blood work for you?"

"Uh, that depends. Do you, like, bleed?" fWhip asks. He's still holding a small stone covered in Pix's blood, but, like... he pulled it out of sand that may have also been Pix's blood.

"Of course I do," Pix scoffs. "I'm just as human as you are."

"...Right. But, uh, yeah. First blood works."

"Excellent! Right this way."

It's still late at night, but Pix looks as spry as ever. More than he's been all day, in fact. The training field is quiet and empty except for a single guard lurking in the corner. fWhip gets the sense that she's trying to be unobtrusive.

Pix draw his trident from his inventory and fWhip does the same with his sword. There's no clear signal to start. They just begin circling each other slowly, about ten paces apart. The training field is lit well enough by the stars and the moon. Out here, there's no need to worry about clouds obstructing their vision.

fWhip strikes first. He smacks the trident with the flat of his blade to get it out of his way and darts in to his right.

Pix takes a half step back and parries with the back end of the trident. It's a pretty fancy flourish.

fWhip punishes him for it. Feints high over Pix's guard and slashes at his stomach when Pix pulls his trident up. Pix scrambles back. fWhip follows. He presses attacks every chance he gets and Pix parries as he retreats, though he can never quite get the tines of the trident positioned for a counterattack, not since he ceded the range with that first, fateful flourish. It's almost like dealing with a quarterstaff, though not one fWhip can expect to break.

fWhip follows Pix all the way to the edge of the training field with the wooden wall of the barracks. Ah. That has to be plan. Lure fWhip in close and try to get him to catch his sword in the planks. fWhip steps back a bit to give himself space from the wall.

And gives Pix enough space to bring his tines to bear. Pity the length of the trident keeps him too far away for fWhip to employ his greatest weapon (pocket sand).

Pix jabs at fWhip over and over again and fWhip narrowly dodges each jab, but he can't close the range again. Well, time for his second greatest weapon.

"Flash grenade!" fWhip yells as he pulls the device out of his sandless pocket and squeezes his eyes shut against the explosion of brilliant white light. It shakes his whole head despite his best efforts to scramble out of the way.

When he opens his eyes, Pix is standing there, leaning on his trident. "You have, uh–" he gestures vaguely to his own nose.

fWhip brings his hand up to his face. Sure enough, his fingers come away red. Right. Standing too close to a flashbang always did give him nosebleeds. "I guess you win?"

Pix shrugs. "We just said first blood. Never said whose blood."

fWhip laughs. "Works for me." Winning always does.