The White Mamba

bad!!! it'll go w him on the walk, it's alive now it swears.

plans: foiled

fun things to do with dusks:

-leave them alone!!!

Other fun things to do with dusks:

“Thanks. She followed me back from a mission. She’s a sweetheart.”

The lioness tilted her head into the scratching and got up a bit to stretch. 

“Of course! She won’t hurt you.”

The lioness perked a little bit and looked at Eli.

Xigbar, he noted. Xigbar has fought this child, no wonder he’s still alive. The sharpshooter was never one to really strike unless needed. Xaldin could see him putting the boy in his place, but not ending him. Now, if it was someone like Larxene, the child would be good as dead.

“I cannot. In the past, I would have done the same. But I learned. There were many times I barely kept my life,” or leg– “but that is the life of a fighter.”

“If you pick fights, you have to be prepared to suffer the consequences. I have been lucky so far - the injuries I’ve sustained have been either broken bones, gunshot wounds, or dislocated wounds. No one really wants to stab me.”

And he’s honestly thankful for that. He’s already got scars on his body, some from taking shrapnel after bomb explosions, while others were from falling in traps, or taking half-hearted swings at his body.

“A safe assumption.” That told Xaldin that this boy had met a few of the others. Is that why he was a sudden target? Well, the boy would certainly learn from fighting different members of the organization, considering they were all unique in their weapons, and fighting style.

Xaldin relaxed as the child lowered his weapon. Good, he didn’t want to strike a boy down, not when they had potential. “It is also better to consider all options and outcomes before you strike, it will ensure that you will see another fight. Losing one target is not the end of the world. You learn, and conceptualize, and then repeat. It’s better to know the routine of a target, than to pick on someone who may be the end of you. Unless, of course, that is your intentions.” Xaldin shrugged. “If you intend to fight for the sake of possibly losing your life, then by all means, continue as you have.”

“I have an idea of what most of the people on this world do. Its when strangers like you and the old pirate come around, that I wonder what you guys are capable of. So---yeah. Maybe I could’ve gone about it better, but.

“You’re correct, not everyone is.” It was his father who sent him away. He decided that if his son was going to so blatantly pick his fights, then he would learn to do so with honor, and skill.

“That doesn’t mean you cannot be smarter about it.” With that, he pulled the head of the spear away from the boy, holding it to his side. “A skilled fighter does not always come from schooling, but they must learn themselves when and who to strike, and how. If you do not know enough about the opponent, then do not risk it until you know how to gain the advantage.”

“I’m going to assume that anytime I fight one of you black-coat wearing weirdo’s, that you’re going to pull some weird weapon outta your asses.”

For now, he’ll lower his own weapon, holding it at his side in his right hand.

“Then you should take this as a lesson to observe and anticipate your opponent, than blindly running at them,” Xaldin scolded. He did not lower his spear, or stance. The boy ran at him once– A boy with a machete– though a child, he was still dangerous. “I was trained to fight this way, and you were taught to swing a weapon about as if your life depended on it. The difference is visible.”

“I taught myself. Because it was either knowing how to fight, or dying on the battlefield.” Before ending up in traverse town, Eli had come from a war-riddled world. He’d been on the battlefield since he was eight years old, teaching himself along the way, until he could handle fighting grown men. 

Granted, his fighting style revolved around close combat, and disarming them as quickly as possible, but he doubts he can wrench a spear away.

Wouldn’t stop him from trying, though, if he felt he needed to.

Sloppy, He thought as he watched the child barrel towards him.

Two lances appeared in his grasp. Wind whipped and lashed with their summoning. One spear lindworm twirled in his hand before he used the long metal rod the smack the boy away from him. His other arm straightened, and pointed the long, dragon like head of the blade towards the blond child.

He hurrumphs, eyes narrowed at the boy with skepticism. “You’re leaving yourself open during attacks,” he spoke casually.

Not only was his attack a failure, but he found himself with a much longer weapon aimed at him. Cautiously - he’s going to step to the side of it, one arm pushing it to the left, ensuring that he had some minute measure of safety.

He had hoped the kid was smarter than that. He had gusto, drive– but that would only save his ass a handful of times. Xaldin didn’t move, his eyes remained on the boy. One brow rose at his challenging words.

“No,” he said simply. “If you plan to attack me, I have every intention to defend myself.” He readied to summon a lance to block the child, should he lung at the Lancer. He had no intentions of harming the boy, but he would not allow a foolish kid to win. Regardless if his threats and thievery was for survival, they were not morals that Xaldin could stand a child to pursue.

This guy asked for it - he tried to give him an out that would let him get off safely, and let him get what he needed, but the man chose to be stubborn.

“How about a third option? Drop whatever munny you have, and walk, and things don’t get violent?” A kids gotta steal to feed and clothe himself, since he refuses to live full-time in an orphanage that doesn’t even treat its residents right half the time - returning there only for a place to sleep safely at night.