Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
|
Post by Derick on Jan 8, 2012 11:58:01 GMT -6
Clair's lance resisted his strike, causing him to step back into a more guarded position. Her lance was still spinning, so Derick held his lance in a diagonal stance, as a safeguard against a strike from either side. Unfortunately, he misread her, her lance slipped behind her and then came crashing down from on high. Derick had no time to react, the shaft behind the tip of her lance slid down his own and crashed into the fingers of his right hand with a vicious *crack*. Derick's hands instinctively released their grip, and he jumped back as he shook his right hand out.
His mind screamed with hate, and Derick's thoughts were black. He felt his combat reflex seep into his bloodstream by the bucket-full. He bit his lip and tried to focus. The pain gave him a point to fixate on, and he held on to it like his life depended on it. His teeth ripped through his bottom lip, sending blood pouring down his chin. Derick drew in a slow, deep breath, then casually looked at Clair as he unsuccessfully tried to wipe the blood away. "Right, sorry. Forgot." He stared at her poker-faced for a moment, then howled with laughter and doubled over as he tried to manage the blood.
|
|
|
Post by Clair Feldsky on Jan 8, 2012 16:47:44 GMT -6
Ohhh.... that looked like it hurt. Yep. A lance shaft to the hand. The healer would need to take a look at that before they left. At least he hadn't taken it right on the hand, or it would have more likely been shattered, rather than pinched. It would make the battle difficult to continue, so she watched Derick, wondering how he would end up reacting.
For a moment, it looked like he would attack. He was dangerous because of what he was. Even with her trying to help him gain control of this reaction she'd seen a few times, that didn't change. She stayed ready to repel him while stopping her attacks. The match was over.
Seeing him bleeding from his lip was a surprise. Had he actually bitten himself that hard? When he bent over from uncontrollable laughter, that was it. Great. The one soldier she'd decided to work with. She'd had her eye on the young man, seeing a great deal of potential there, and he turned out to be insane. She'd known he needed some work, which was why they were out here now, but this was just rich.
"Derick. Derick? What's wrong? Why are you laughing?"
|
|
Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
|
Post by Derick on Jan 8, 2012 17:06:14 GMT -6
Derick choked back his laughter while simultaneously spitting blood into the snow, staining it crimson red. "I--hahaha! I'm sorry! It's just--" he paused to spit out some more blood, "that was incredible! I mean--" Derick realized Clair would have no clue what he was talking about, he laughed a bit more, allowing it to peter out before he continued. "--it's just, usually, I can't even stay awake through a fight." He winced at how that might be misinterpreted and backtracked, "I mean...I pass out." Derick gingerly felt his lip, the bleeding had slowed to a trickle. "Usually, I black out when the fighting starts. I wake up and there's blood on my lance, that's how it's always been." Derick shifted uncomfortably, "Truthfully, I usually don't remember fights until after the fact."
|
|
|
Post by Clair Feldsky on Jan 8, 2012 18:21:25 GMT -6
The Falcoknight realized that the sun was high enough for her to be able to see the color of Derick's crimson spittle on the ground. Yep they'd be needing the doctor before leaving. As she listened though, some of the concern over whether he was crazy or not began to fade. He still was a concern, but he could make progress. Today proved it.
"Well, it's obvious you didn't pass out this time...." She said slowly, a small smile beginning to form on her face as she spoke. "You remained concious, and you stopped yourself in the middle of a fight."
As near as she could tell, that was something that didn't occur on its own.
|
|
Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
|
Post by Derick on Jan 8, 2012 18:28:13 GMT -6
Derick laughed it off and turned away but stopped dead in his tracks, "I...I really did, didn't I?" He felt bittersweet as he said this, mastering his reflex meant he would have to face battles now, but as he remembered the pure bliss he had felt fighting Clair, he realized that it was an improvement, not a fault.
A drip of blood dropped from his chin, Derick hastily brought his hand up and wiped the blood away, it had nearly stopped now. He looked up at Clair, she was smiling, At me!...beautiful. A smile stole across his own face, "I--" The wording of whatever he was going to say evaded him, he took a breath and tried again, "--thank you." He smiled at her as he nursed his hand, it was probably broken, this was a commander he could respect.
|
|
|
Post by Clair Feldsky on Jan 8, 2012 18:47:13 GMT -6
"I'm proud of you, Derick." Clair told him. It felt weird to be saying it to someone so near her age, but that was how things were. "Don't think your out of the fog yet though. I'm going to be expecting more of you next time." She'd always had people expecting the best of her, and talented people had enabled her, while she learned to enabke herself. This was what she wanted for Derick.
"We should go and get that hand looked at. And probably your mouth too. Cold can do strange things to even minor injuries, when it's Illian cold." She leaned down to grasp his fallen weapon, and picked it up, hefting its weight a bit before holding it out for him to take back.
"Come on. We need to leave soon anyway. We should finish up packing the necessaries too." She waited for him to take his weapon back, and then started walking to find one of the healers in the camp of the ruined town.
|
|
Derick
Soldier
A deserter from Bern, struggles to reign himself in.
Posts: 170
Profession: Amateurish Mercenary
Affinity: Anima
OoC Alias: Derick
|
Post by Derick on Jan 8, 2012 18:54:20 GMT -6
Derick nodded and saluted, as was still his reflex from boot camp, before taking his outstretched lance. "Yes ma'am!" she noted his injuries, his hand was swelling and his lip was starting to burn, she was probably right. He followed in her footsteps, smiling into the blinding sun glare, he would be ready next fight, that was for sure.
|
|