sheriffexe | [ WEEK SEVEN – KILL LOG (MILLA) ]

[it hurts]

[twisting that way hurts and leaves her breathless as her ribs throb in protest of the movement. the sheath getting stuck between her blade and arm make matters worse, and she doesn't have time to do anything about it before Damian shoves her off balance]

[she stumbles, trips, and one knee hits the ground. her back is towards her opponent (never turn your back on an opponent) but everything hurts and her lungs are begging for air as she fumbles to dislodge the sheath and cast it aside. she needs to move, to stand, but no matter how willing her spirit may be, the body refuses. this is what six weeks of exhaustion can do to even the Lord of Spirits]

[she's wide open, but she struggles to her feet, to lift Higekiri's sword to block an attack she fears is coming. her breath comes in shallow gasps. not yet. she can't give up yet]

[This feels dirty. Worse than killing in general, something he's forced himself to be disgusted by, to react with horror toward. This feels dirty, fighting Milla when she is at a disadvantage.

Winning doesn't feel like winning.

No attack comes. Damian has loosened his stance.] Stand up.

Warriors die on their feet, fighting.

[she hates being at a disadvantage. she thinks, if only she had Undine's power, she could cast a healing spell to ease the pain in her body. if she had Sylph's, she could use his wind to guide her feet. if she had Efreet's and Gnome's, she could use their strength to add power to her blows. she's missed them since the moment of her arrival, since the moment she realized they weren't here with her. but it isn't until now that she actively wishes they were at her side]

[it takes her far longer than she'd like to climb to her feet, but when she's upright again, she turns to face Damian. he really is a warrior with honor, refusing to attack her while she was incapacitated. it's admirable]

I have-- [another breath. the pain has eased somewhat, but it still remains in low pulses, preventing her from breathing properly] -- no intention of dying any other way.

[she hefts the blade up, holds it in front of her in a defensive stance. she doesn't attack]

Good. [Not that she's dying, but that she's fighting to live, even against him, even at a disadvantage. Even if Bruce doesn't fancy murder, Damian can at least appreciate someone with code.] It's an honor to battle you.

[He raises his sword. The attack won't be brutal, but it will be long enough to tire her out. (Not that she isn't already tired.) He goes, pushing off. He's fast, being small and trained. His swings aren't wild so much as just many.

The look in his eyes is focused and determined.]

[another smile at his compliment. the smile of a warrior]

And it's an honor to battle you as well.

[she stays on the defensive, blocking every swing that she can-- left, right, center, left, center-- but his assault pushes her back. she stumbles, though she tries to maintain her balance, and it's that mistake coupled with her exhaustion that leaves him another opening to strike]

[at her heart]

[There's no use drawing the battle out. As cheap as it feels, Damian takes the opportunity to end Milla as swiftly and mercifully as possible.

His strike is true, right through the heart, and there's a surprisingly amount of power behind the thrust. The al Ghul blade is made for killing. It's razor sharp, and can pierce the toughest pieces of protective material.

It splits cleanly through Milla from front to back. Damian doesn't dice her; it's in and then right back out just as fast. He steps back and straightens up respectfully, lowering the sword at his side.]

[it hurts. it's sharp and white hot with pain that's even worse than when her legs were injured so badly she couldn't walk. surprise and shock registers on her expression, even though she knew-- she knew-- that this was coming. she knew from the very beginning she wouldn't be able to best him in a fight, just as much as she knew she that she couldn't back down from one]

[she doesn't have time to register the warmth of blood soaking the front of her clothing. she doesn't have time to register the way her knees hit the ground. she doesn't have time to register anything but the pain and a brief, fleeting thought of it's up to you. . . Damian. . . before her world goes black]

[her body slumps forward, collapses onto the ground, Higekiri's sword lodged loosely in her hand]

[Milla Maxwell is dead]

[ WEEK SEVEN – KILL LOG (MILLA) ]

HAHA s-so true... but I'm having fun!!1

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