imatreenow | seven [action]

[Do you know what's exceptionally awkward?

Waking up to discover that you've turned into your sister, whom you love to the point of obsession and whose memory you have placed on an ivory pedestal. And your clothes are suddenly far too tight, for numerous reasons. Most of which you'd rather not think about (two in particular).

This is how Mithos began his day.

There was a certain shock and thrill that came with seeing Martel's face, very much alive, reflected back in the mirror. He almost couldn't tear his eyes away, but knowing that it was actually himself and not his sister helped dampen the enchantment.

Then there was the matter of his clothes...

Mid-morning finds Mithos scurrying across the village to the clothing shop. Very thankfully, he owns a larger cloak for outdoor use, and this adequately covers Martel's (his?) body and the embarrassingly-tight clothing. Not well enough for his concerns, but it will have to do. The other options are hardly being able to breathe for several days, or else...no, not even going to think about that. Passers-by, feel free to notice the troubled, somewhat frazzled look on this poor woman's (?) face.]

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You dare raise a sword against my sister?

[Pushing his blade off of Yuan's, Mithos leaps backward before going in again from a different angle. He wants to see Yuan's blood, and he wants to see it now.]

[Another block. It's a good thing Yuan's blade is so big; that means it can cover more of his body. Even so, he's still not fighting back. All he can do is defend himself from harm.]

I'm raising it against you! [He's not entirely convinced that this is true, but he knows he doesn't have any other choice. Mithos won't hesitate to kill him if he wastes time on feeling guilty. Then it hits him that they're still in the middle of the village. He can't let other people get involved in this.]

Now put your sword away, you fool! Do you really want half the village to intervene?

I'm not withdrawing my sword until it's dripping with your traitorous blood! I don't care who tries to interfere; I'll cut them down too!

[Regardless of how massive the blade is, it can't cover all of Yuan's body at once. Hoping to take advantage of this fact, Mithos launches an attack at Yuan's left side - when Yuan moves to defend himself, he'll change his blade's course entirely.]

[Oh crap, not this again! Just like last time, Yuan falls for that trick and fails to correct himself when Mithos' blade suddenly changes direction. This time, he's not as lucky. As much as he tries to move out of the way at the last second, the blade slices through his side, just above his hip.

It's only a fleshwound; not too deep, but damn does that hurt.

He grits his teeth against the pain, quickly flipping his saber around to force Mithos' blade away. Once that's done, he hops back in hopes of gaining some distance, one hand automatically moving to his side. He can't let this battle just go on like this. He can't fight Mithos while he's in Martel's body.]

[Mithos smirks maliciously, feeling his blade connect and seeing the blood darkening Yuan's side. One blow isn't nearly enough, though. Not for the man who continually impeded his efforts to revive Martel, so many hundreds of times. No number of hits would even begin to suffice; it is something that can never be made okay.

He isn't about to let Yuan create any distance between them. As soon as Yuan leaps back, Mithos is rushing forward, sword ready to spill more blood. His objective this time is the shoulder opposite to the wounded side.]

[Once it's clear to Yuan that Mithos isn't about to let him go, he does the first thing that comes to mind. In fact, it didn't even fully come to mind until after he'd already done it. Reflexes are very prone to kicking in when someone dashes towards you, brandishing a sword, regardless of whose body they're in.

He pulled his free hand away from his injured side again, moving it horizontally in one swift strike to unleash a shockwave of lightning magic. In doing so, he probably also splattered Mithos with a bit of blood. That is, if Mithos wasn't fast enough to avoid it.

He needs to get the hell out of here, whatever it takes.]

[He can't quite dodge in time at such close proximity; the lightning strikes him in the arm, halting his attack and forcing him to stagger backward. He grimaces painfully. His face and upper body become flecked with the droplets of Yuan's blood. Mithos lifts the hand of his uninjured arm to wipe his face, but as he returns it to grip his sword he sees the red smeared across the backside.

And he freezes. Blood. Martel. It isn't his hand, it's Martel's. And there's blood. It's his hand too, though. Stained red like when he'd lost her, when he'd clung to her still body long after she had slipped away, wishing desperately that maybe if he held on tightly enough the blood would flow in reverse.

These thoughts all flood his brain in the span of about ten seconds. Then his eyes fall back on Yuan, and they are like wildfire. In the next instant, Mithos is hurtling toward him again.]

[It's a good thing Yuan hasn't lost himself in the moment just yet. Those ten seconds Mithos spends staring at his hand, he spends trying to think of how to solve this. He can't fight- Regardless of who he's facing, Martel's body just brings up painful memories of her. He could never earnestly raise a weapon against her. He can't defend himself- It's clear Mithos found his weakness and won't hesitate to exploit it until Yuan's dead.

Time for a strategical retreat. His eyes close for just a second as a pair of shimmering lavender wings appears on his back, covering the Filial ones and extending beyond that. He doesn't even give a damn that anyone could see- he just shoots straight up into the air before Mithos can reach him.]

[Mithos skids to a halt in the snow just feet from where Yuan had stood and quickly cranes his neck to look up in the sky. If looks could kill, Yuan would be plummeting right down to the ground in an instant.]

I'm not through with you! I won't be satisfied until I spill every drop of blood in your body. [Nevermind the fact he just had a minor freak-out regarding that...]

[Yuan certainly doesn't look like he has any plans of coming down. Now that he's got a chance to breathe, he lingers in the air for a moment, his free hand once again moving to his injured side. It's starting to bleed more profusely after his forced movements and kicking off from the ground sure didn't help. His face contorts and he can't help but curse under his breath.]

D-damn it all.

[There's no point in lingering and quite honestly, he doesn't have the strength to respond to Mithos' screams. Not that he's physically exhausted, he's just tired of these petty arguments. Without another word, he turns and flies off into the direction of the forest.]

[Mithos growls in frustration, knowing that the odds of catching up to Yuan in the forest are next to non-existent. A stalemate must be conceded to for now, but the next time he sees Yuan...Mithos will tax him every ounce of blood in his body, and then some, for saying that he feels no guilt over abandoning Martel. He cleans his blade in the snow and returns it to its sheath.

...And glancing down, he realizes that now he needs a new cloak. Thanks, Yuan. Blood doesn't come out of white, asshole.]

seven [action]

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way to go, Yuan

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