WRATH - C!TECHNOBLADE

𝗜𝗜𝗜 - brawl

       Then the voices turned on Eun as easily as the sun shines, where suddenly like the flip of a switch her whole figure was glazed with hate—only if you looked through Technoblade eyes. And his eyes were clouded with the judgment of many.

       Technoblade often found himself in a predicament, but right now, in this day and age, his thoughts shun out any rational thinking. And as his thoughts pivoted to red, the voices encouraged and warned;
    'too minacious to be kept alive'

       Like a sixth sense, the shift in demeanour might aswelll of been a physical thing, for Eun sensed it like bad news. In reality it was bad news, how his eyes had darkened, precautionary hand now revealed a sword.

        Eun didn't wake up to be heaved into a fight minutes after, but things never go to plan.

     His stained fingers toyed with the engraved hilt playfully, like he knew that whatever he had willpower to do would succeed. A grin expanded on his lips. Deep garnet-red eyes didn't slip an ounce of emotion. And as fast as lightning is to hit the unexpected ground, his stealthy hands forced his weapon upon the figure with a devious grin.

     Unlike the ground, Eun presumed it, for she'd stepped to the side smoothly, her movements almost like a blur.

    Maybe technoblade thought Eun had no experience, that one felt swoop and she would cease to breath, that her eyes would roll to the back of her head lifelessly.

That in fact was not the case.

       His axe lodged violently into the wood behind Eun, a quick attempt in freeing it before his mind said 'fuck it' abandoning his previous weapon which gave him leverage. And presently his fists were swinging left and right, they were not usually his preferred weapon but they struck as much terror as his axe.

A series of fast paced steps and punches, a dispute like waves opposing wind. Rough knuckles directing at her face, to where an arm had blocked it, and definitely not without repercussions, she'd felt the blow fully, and frankly she didn't see how violence was really the answer.

   A series of blocks and attacks, repetitive with Eun on the offence, one step forward and the other taking steps back. Constantly landing hard-hitting punches on each other. Now her back collided forcefully with the bare wall, a wisp of air escaping her lungs before in the span of a few seconds his fist collided with the wall while Eun had swooped under his other arm.

Anger radiated off him like sunbeams, a blind rage swept over him like a tsunami, eyes holding a fiery blaze but all so cold, his gaze was the messenger of chills to her spine.

Throughout their extensive brawl not one showed symptoms of any type of fatigue, reflexes coursing their veins, warning for instincts pulling on limbs to attack or dodge. Both of them on offence and defence like tug of war.

Being a quick thinker, Eun took advantage of her swift dodge, leg swiftly swiping in line of his stance, toppling him over, laying defeated on the floor.

She stood tall (although she already was) a serene appearance on her features—not that he had time to observe because—he grinned, and as he grinned she extended her leg for a kick.

Catching her by surprise his hand caught it firmly, then yanking on , now both on the floor. He was quick to get up, now enough willpower to free the axe, he'd brought it up high, up and then higher and the air rushed away in hushed whispers as his blow impacted downwards, right onto her face.

Blood burst out like it's had been waiting for years, spilling down her face like erratic tears. Hands immediately cupping under her nose, no move to fix it, just ferocious eyes meeting his currently widening ones, stance retreating slowly to an upright stand.

Taking special notice in how he took a second to pause before speaking. His lips parted at the aftermath of his killing blow, the outcome wavering from what he had in mind. And here comes the questionnaire—or really in how technoblade gets his answers.

       "You should be dead."

In the mist of his bleak statement a spot of disbelief bled through his expression which was then quickly covered up by the mist.

       "I should." Eun responded lightly.

       "What are you." He asked in concealed disbelief.

       "A product of war." In where two esoterically alike ratiocination minds knew what such a bleak quote meant.

       "An immortal." He deadpanned.

"Yes. I am." Eun corroborated.

Then he went soft, retreating back slowly, enough ground for them to stand up fully, throwing a hand out like it was a friendly brawl. Hands that held similar history held each other.

       "Sorry." Technoblade apologises sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

"I appreciate you letting me stay here." Eun hums, fixing any objects affected by their previous interaction.

"Okay I guess your staying then." Technoblade said, eyes following the figure as they made them self at home, adjusting obscure paintings by the pressure of blows.

A few hours passed. It was nearing night. Eun could almost believe Technoblade if he avowed he was nocturnal. He sat staring at the raging fire, and being an honourable guest so did Eun. He wasn't one for petty small talks, he spoke when he deemed worthy. It would've been a problem if Eun didn't fancy the silence themself .

"What do you do around here?" Eun asked, they migrated to the second living room, a velvet couch facing the fireplace.

"Normally, I wait for a battalion scheduling a war for my head." Technoblade replied nonchalantly.

"They do know you are unwillingly opposed to being dead. Right?" She muses, finding in humor in how ignorant people can be.

"Ignorance." A short answer, suffice to her question.

An airy hum escaped the back of her throat softly.
"Want to play cards?

Technoblade blinks. Once. Twice. Face turning inquisitively away from the fire.
       "Cards?"