[There's distance because even Cunning's not dumb enough to catch someone's actively moving leg and he steps back, taking the wire with him and tossing it aside. With the distance between them, he's rushing once again to try and strike as Sasuke regains his balance.
It's a good fight, truthfully. Cunning's going to walk away from this being fairly impressed.]
[There's so little time between his land and balance and Cunning's rush. He's so!! tired!! This is incredibly frustrating for someone normally so strong, running off reserves instead of only fumes.
He scrambles to tuck and dodge. The sword glances off his right shoulder, and he hisses loudly as he crashes along the ground after trying to duck even lower unsteadily. This time, it takes him a bit to start to try pushing himself up to his hands and knees.]
[For a moment, with Cunning not attacking, he tries to catch his breath. One hand digs into the ground beneath him, the other rises to touch his shoulder. When he pulls it away, the palm is bloody.
Damn. Senri.
He looks back up at Cunning. When he stands again finally, he turns to the side to balance his stance.] It isn't over... until you give me the lighter... or you knock me out. [The wind up is sudden and like a baseball pitcher.
Even if it wasn't meant to do any damage, he slings the rock in his hand at Cunning with as much force as possible. But as soon as it leaves his palm, he drops and charges.
[Is it not baseball because Cunning takes the blade and swings like a baseball bat anyway to block the rock. It barely gives him time to catch on to what Sasuke's doing but as the swings come he's tempted to drop the sword and switch to hand to hand. Then again, not having a weapon means being defenseless.
He's keeping up, and this is really over a lighter? For a moment Cunning things before he growls.]
Back down, Sasuke. [It's a challenge, maybe, and the sword blocks again.]
The frustration and exhaustion boils over, and he keeps swinging a few more times before he... just... slows to a stop. He stands there, shoulders and chest heaving, trying to catch his breath, his knuckles white from how tight his fists are balled.
As limited as he is, he still wanted to keep fighting. It felt... familiar, natural. Something he could relate to rather than be surrounded by the people in this place, the rules of this game.
[It's only when Sasuke stops that Cunning also stops, sword slung over his shoulder and watching his opponent carefully. It's hard to see under the mask and the robes, but he's pretty wound up even if not necessarily winded thanks to being a god.
...nevertheless, he reaches into his pocket and tosses Sasuke an item.
It's the lighter.]
Don't ever use this on me or my stuff again. Got it?
[His hand is quick when it snaps up to catch the lighter. He brings his hand down to look it over, turning it around carefully. Thinking.
His other hand plucks something out of the pocket of his pants, something small, and he pushes it hastily inside his mouth. Looks up at Cunning. There's a popping crunch, like chewing candy or ice, and then he raises the lighter jerk his thumb down over the wheel. An inhale through his nose.
He knows Cunning is too far away, and he knows Cunning will dodge, but that isn't the point.
Out of his mouth, he spits a blast of kerosene directly through the flames of the lighter in Cunning's direction. It ignites into an arcing stream of flame, expelling outward, but it only lasts for a few seconds before dying away. He turns his head and spits the pieces of the capsule onto the ground with the taste of kerosene.
[For whatever reason, Cunning doesn't even bother taking a step back when the fire roars directly in his face. He just holds his ground and shakes his head.]
[Carefully, he tosses the lighter and catches it, and then he puts it in his pocket. On his way out of the arena, he stops to get the armband, but leaves the sword, and then he gets his jacket to shrug back onto his shoulders.
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It's a good fight, truthfully. Cunning's going to walk away from this being fairly impressed.]
THAT WAS WILD anyhow
He scrambles to tuck and dodge. The sword glances off his right shoulder, and he hisses loudly as he crashes along the ground after trying to duck even lower unsteadily. This time, it takes him a bit to start to try pushing himself up to his hands and knees.]
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no subject
Damn. Senri.
He looks back up at Cunning. When he stands again finally, he turns to the side to balance his stance.] It isn't over... until you give me the lighter... or you knock me out. [The wind up is sudden and like a baseball pitcher.
Even if it wasn't meant to do any damage, he slings the rock in his hand at Cunning with as much force as possible. But as soon as it leaves his palm, he drops and charges.
Here he comes, flying in swinging punches.]
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He's keeping up, and this is really over a lighter? For a moment Cunning things before he growls.]
Back down, Sasuke. [It's a challenge, maybe, and the sword blocks again.]
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The frustration and exhaustion boils over, and he keeps swinging a few more times before he... just... slows to a stop. He stands there, shoulders and chest heaving, trying to catch his breath, his knuckles white from how tight his fists are balled.
As limited as he is, he still wanted to keep fighting. It felt... familiar, natural. Something he could relate to rather than be surrounded by the people in this place, the rules of this game.
But he doesn't try to attack again.]
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...nevertheless, he reaches into his pocket and tosses Sasuke an item.
It's the lighter.]
Don't ever use this on me or my stuff again. Got it?
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His other hand plucks something out of the pocket of his pants, something small, and he pushes it hastily inside his mouth. Looks up at Cunning. There's a popping crunch, like chewing candy or ice, and then he raises the lighter jerk his thumb down over the wheel. An inhale through his nose.
He knows Cunning is too far away, and he knows Cunning will dodge, but that isn't the point.
Out of his mouth, he spits a blast of kerosene directly through the flames of the lighter in Cunning's direction. It ignites into an arcing stream of flame, expelling outward, but it only lasts for a few seconds before dying away. He turns his head and spits the pieces of the capsule onto the ground with the taste of kerosene.
And then he smirks.]
Thanks.
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Anything else? [You goddamn edgelord.]
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[Carefully, he tosses the lighter and catches it, and then he puts it in his pocket. On his way out of the arena, he stops to get the armband, but leaves the sword, and then he gets his jacket to shrug back onto his shoulders.
He pauses.]
Another time.
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If I'm not here, the armory. Another time.