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A Battle In The Nightmare 240808


(A battle in the Nightmare)

[Wed Aug 7 2024]

In The Forest

It is morning, about 71F(21C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. It's raining.

Korina is in the nightmare, and she's damp. It's a mystery.

Peyton peers around curiously, slashing her sword through the nightmare sort of aimlessly.

"Always a trick to finding way through deep nightmare," Nikolai murmurs, deep and Russian and prone to echoing. "Where is our prey, do you think?" He charges off in a random direction, keeping an eye out - and then finally spots Peyton, a small smirk coming to his lips. "Poor woman," he says. "Always alone. Where are your friends?"

Nikolai launches himself through the air like a missile, swinging his hammer through the air to launch a speeding pellet of flame past Peyton's ear. He tucks into a roll as he lands, then clucks his tongue in disappointment for having missed. "Impress us, Bennett. Show what the Order has taught you... If anything."

Another leap, and Korina darts in claws-first at Peyton, all the strength in her deceptively diminutive strength bearing down on the blonde when she brings her katana up to parry.

Peyton lets out a half-hearted 'hee-yaw" sounding more like a backwards yee-haw. As the strike slides off her parry and catches her perfect and beautiful legs. She goes for an overhand strike, she looks about as excited to be here as anyone would be, another day at the office, being brutally cut down in a nightmare."

Made nimble and swift by the wings flapping at his ankles, Nikolai throws his hammer out and begins to spin, spin, spin; a blunt-force dervish that sucks in towards Peyton as he goes. It's hard to keep track of his exact positioning - and then his hammer slams into the angelborn's ribs, forcing her back a step.

Korina has to dodge under Nikolai's hammer-swings to poke Peyton with her claws, and she lets out a dissatisfied little noise in the process, ducking low to stay out of the way and poking at Peyton's leg again.

Peyton spits blood as the hammer slams into her chest, her teeth slamming together as she jolts back with an oof, then she's poked right in the leg, the haunch of legends. She droops down over her sword, and the angle she comes up from as she slashes at Nikolai makes for more of a golf swing than any valid angle of attack. Pathetic.

The curve of Peyton's blade rings out in metallic protest as Nikolai catches the attack along the steel haft of his weapon, and the Russian smirks confidently. "You should never have left us," he declares - and then he twists her sword out of the way, rearing back to knock Peyton's knee out of its socket with a wet crunch. Something that would heal... but it would hurt in the process.

Peyton fades out of the nightmare.