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[uzubuzu]

“clinch”

 “Fuckin’ hells, Egg, that was me wrist!”

 “It’s a godsdamned spar, y’idiot! I ain’t gonna be nice!”

 “Aye, but that don’t mean ye gotta ruin me ability to hold shit!”

 One would think that after Fox Veron and Uzu had gone through together, the petty bickering and banter would have ceased, as differences settled and compromises were met, owning up to their fellow struggles...

... yet, it seems at the moment they met, shared a cigarette, and beat one another in the Coffin and Coffer, it seems their fate as a bunch of close idiots was sealed.

 However, Uzu wasn’t complaining much about it. For Fox was actually a decent friend, apart from the others. Sure, their friendship was filled with non-stop bullshitting, be it from pranks, disputes, or constant games of getting back at one another, there was something about Fox’s... integrity that made Uzu able to endure the wraith of Fox’s personality with a smile.

 ... well, there was no smiling now, because Uzu was too busy brushing blood from his mouth.

 “... think y’loosened one of my teeth.”

 “Bahahaha, good! Toothless egg!”

 Uzu spits out a wad of blood to his side, and goes ahead and grapples Fox by the shoulder and headbutts him.

 A violent, dumb friendship; Uzu couldn’t ask for more in life.

[uzubuzu]

“muster”

 “We survived the Garleans, you think some foreigner will stop us!?”

  Uzu quickly turns the flat of the blade of his gunblade on the Pugilist’s kick, denying him the service of kicking Uzu in the jaw. He shoves him back away to his entourage of other Ala Mhigans, all brandishing their arms.

 The hassle of hoofing it all to way to Ala Mhigo was a hassle in its own, but now dealing with not one rogue, but an entire group of them, which the bounty failed to mention, is a trial in its own.

 Two of them charge the lad, a bob and a weave quickly dodge their punches and slashes. They bear aggressiveness, sure, but they are too obvious with their moves. Three inexperienced fools against one well-versed one. The fight was obviously in the lad’s favor.

  Amid the chaos, a bit of... remorse, crosses the lad’s mind. These fools, they’ve suffered as well. The Garlean occupation, a life of suffering; Uzu was not unfamiliar with the feeling. He almost related to them, despite being on the opposing end of their blades and fists. It’s a tragic kind of thing to think about amid a fight...

 Also amid the lad’s melancholy thoughts, one charges him with a knife. He’s at the right enough angle for Uzu to simply catch the thing, mid-thrust.

 And that’s exactly what he does. The knife is caught in his palm, the blade lacerating into his palm, coating the thing in his blood. Curling his fingers around it, he yanks it from the Ala Mhigan, and kicks him in the gut, pushing him away. He glances the blade, partially in his flesh, and quickly adjusts it so he holds it properly.

 Now was not the time for a change of heart; the time to cast aside feelings and muster up the strength to cut down those alike the lad was needed at this point in time.

[uzubuzu]

“sway”

 “The Siren’s Game is a beautiful schooner, is it not?”

The Seeker’s boat was more of a cargo ship than anything that Beexu tried to claim it was. Regardless, it was a fairly nice ship, indeed. So much that Uzu decided to tag along for a small, spontaneous voyage, despite a recently broken leg.

 In the dead of the night, the Seeker desired time on the mast, and Uzu was neither in a state or a mood to join her. So he was left alone in the Captain’s Quarters, with his thoughts.

 One Beexu Spiritbreaker. An eccentric little thing, yes. Opened the boy up to the wonderful world of open love, open sex. Open... living, one could suppose. And on one hand, the boy is happy with it. The thrill of many partners, the thrill of being able to fuck and love multiple people! It’s a dream for the inner pervert that lives within all!

 And yet, on the other hand, it makes the boy miserable. Ideas of not being enough, incompetence, being... forgotten.

The boy glances out at the swaying seas through the quarters’ window. Pondering the second hand of things. Despite her clear devotion of words, holding burning coils, and even moving in with the boy, it’s clear that the Seeker’s heart desires to be a wandering thing until it ceases to beat. She had even told him herself:

  “A symphony of hearts is what I want.”

 A reasonable thing to want, yes. And she made her stance clear. And what kind of person would the boy be to deny a woman’s wishes? Hells, the boy wanted to follow in her footsteps, he’d want his own symphony. And yet...

After a while, the Seeker returns from her moment of isolation within the skies. A cute yawn, an undoing of boots, and the lass is already back in bed with the boy, coiling her arms, legs and tail to him. Gets all nice and comfortable, enjoying the warmth of the hyur without much of a melancholy thought.

 It seems Uzu’s heart and the Siren’s Game are at a bout, to see which could sway the most.

[uzubuzu]

“crux”

 The hyur jolts awake with a gasp. Ragged breathing, sweat dripping down his brow, the usual affair of a night terror. A few moments pass, and his breathing regulates with a groan, a quick rub of his brow, and folding his arms into a grasp.

 The same schizophrenic dream, time and time again. The same beast-- was it a voidsent, or just something else? --biting into his arm, the same clash of blades with a Gridanian Poacher. The same stitching of that godsdamned arrow in his arm. And that same circle of those... familiar figures. They looked like all the people Uzu knew, whether he butt heads with them, loved them, or were just friendly through similar vocations. But something, at the same time, made them foreign. Uncanny almost. Yet, they all acted as if they knew him all the same, and mocked him, stoned him with insults and rocks alike, leaving the hyur at the mercy of these deja-vu enduing figures.

 “... Gods, I’m so fuckin’ sick of that...”  is all the hyur can mutter out, as he glances around, grounding himself in reality once more.

  It’s the same cluttered backroom. The same shoddy posters. The same messy table with dishes Uzu’d keep telling himself he’d clean. The same dusty windows. And the same Seeker, sleeping at his side, quietly breathing away as she does, every night.

 With an exasperated sigh, the hyur lies his head back on his pillow, taking a few deep breaths, in and out. Was it a reflection of how life is, or is it a premonition of what’s to come?

 One last groan leaves Uzu’s lips, as he closes his eyes to at least attempt to salvage the night of sleep.

[uzubuzu]

this is going to be a terrible idea but let’s get it