Dirge, therapy
Passing by, Vincent happened to glance outside at the yard.
Steel flashed as Conformer danced through the air, deadly points promising pain and destruction, before it was met and bounced off a partly transparent shield, brought into being by a Shield materia.
Oh, they’re at it again.
Yuffie flipped and caught Conformer, just as Shelke dropped the shield and shot forward, twin blades flashing.
A buzz as the weapons met, a terse moment of staring each other down, and then both were stumbling backward as they exerted force on their weapons back at the same time.
Vincent sipped his coffee, winced, and continued on his way to the door.
Fighting seemed to be their new routine, mako-consuming as it was. Vincent had a vague idea it was their kind of therapy, in a world that had lost its purpose, that no longer needed such fighters as these.
plotbunnies/quotes/etc | Jac the Tripper | 24 January 2008 |
