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Metal hits metal as zanka is yet again forced to block instead of attacking, another stolen opportunity of an attack in favour of not getting touched by those claws.
He’s too weak for this.
A single hit and it’s over, zanka has to hit him over and over and over, jabber likes it, he blooms with the pain of it, and zanka can’t seem to get past the thought of “not enough” as he gets just far enough for just long enough to swirl his body around Lovely Assistaff to slam his boots into the side of jabbers head as he had yet again lunged without really thinking it through, because geniuses like Jabber Wonger, didn’t need to think things through.
Like zanka so desperately needed to
Like he needed to find an opening, dodge the attack, try to attack and try to foresee what the other was gonna do all at the same time, because zanka couldn’t rely on lovely assistaff as a weapon of her own, like he couldn’t rely on instinct, like he couldn’t rely on himself.
He wasn’t made for this,
A sweeping kick
He wasn’t good enough for this
A swift dodge
What else was there?
A brutal swing
Nothing
Jabber laughs as blood rushes from his nose, glee that thrums somewhere deep in the pits of Zankas bones too but that he can’t quite seem to catch, doesn’t want to catch, to even glimpse at, doesn’t want to acknowledge that it rests right at the corner of his vision, that it creeps into fights where he feels particularly high.
This was not one of those fights, he felt low. Lower then how Rudo had explained the pit feeling, lower then the well, lower then himself.
“Cmon man!” Jabber jeers, happily relocating his own shoulder with a too excited keen “quit holding out! Gimme more!”
And suddenly he’s back infront of him, claws out, larger then life, a form zanka can’t even fathom following in the footprints of, can’t imagine lovely assiststaff taking on a ‘better’ form, can’t imagine wielding anything that wasn’t her.
His feet slip back as jabber puts his whole weight and the momentum of he lunge into it, but he holds ground.
His muscles ache, running into Jabber was the worst thing that could have happened to him after a particularly bad mission, just out back of the town that they had managed to pull out of grip of sort of trash beast, so he had simply said that he’ll walk on his own.
Backup wasn’t coming, because Zanka was too weak to not need backup.
He has to dodge, he’s pretty sure the ache in his wrist isn’t natural, one hit from those claws when zankas trembling, sweaty hands inevitably slip and it’s all over, they’re too big, and full of burning, horrid toxins-and no medic is close enough to help
He’ll die, he’ll die by a raiders hands, in a single strike, and his siblings will sit one the eldests office and shake their heads
“Died a worthless death”
“Unbecoming of a Nijiku”
His old classmates will talk under their breaths
“He had it coming”
“A fraud”
Boss and Semiu will talk at the front desk
Follo, griss, and tome will talk in the meal room
And enjin and Riyo,
They will regret even glancing in the wells direction.
Tell rudo that he picked the wrong teacher,
Because he’s weak, he hasn’t accomplished anything yet, he’s worked too little and he’s fallen too far, zanka the cleaner does not give up! He will crawl his way out of this damn fight if it’s the last thing he does!
He can’t die like that, can’t die like this!
He can’t have enjin regret him! Can’t let his old classmates talk! Can’t let his siblings know they were right-
Does it matter?
His hands are shaking,
If those claws get him
He can’t stop them from shaking
It will just
Is he really putting that much effort in right now?
Go dark
Or is it something else
If zanka just let his hands drop, let lovely assistaff fall to safety, out of the weight of another weapon on her carefully smoothed surface, would it just
Not matter anymore?
Jabbers grin drops and he jolts back before assistaff could even drop, like zanka had burned him somehow, and he hadn’t liked it
“Hey! What’s with you man!” He snaps, pointing one accusing claw at him, shoulders hunched as he yells “you’re not even in it! What the hell!”
Pull yourself together zanka, zanka nijiku the cleaner doe not give up
“Shut yer trap! Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me!” He snaps, pulling his feet back into stability, back into a position his mind can’t seem to force itself into, can’t seem to get ahold of like he can force his hands into gripping his instrument, can’t seem to - “now come and get it!”
Too weak
He inhales,
Concentrate, where is he going to come from next? What’s his next move? How long can zanka last if he gets hit
And he will get hit-
“Nah! Man your really out of it! I wanna fight you when youre at your a game! This shits fucked worse then I am!” He scowls and… what an odd expression to see on jebber “I’m not doing it!”
“Hey! D’ya said ya wanted to fight!” What is happening? Get information, toss information you know in the fray to get a response that fills blanks-
“Yeah, someone whose not gonna give up mid fight,” he huffs, pouting like a child as he deactivated Mankira, as he turns on his heels hands behind his head, a gleeful shudder he can’t quite resist running down his spine from the strained muscles in his shoulder, tho he keeps complaining “man… I was right, I really should’ve picked one of the other cleaners”
Give up
Pick
Other…
He lets Lovely Assistaff drop from her guarded stable position, resting against his side,
He’s not,
He’s one good quality,
And he ruined it
Even Jabber didn’t want to fight him,
Jabber didn’t…
Jabber
The horrible strum of emotions he doesn’t want to place, look at or acknowledge even tho they’ve been drowning him solidify take shape over his shoulders, weigh heavy and he can’t find anything to do with them, with assistaff, with himself.
He can’t pull nonchalance out of himself, he can’t seem to calm his shaking hands or his rapidly quickening breath,
Anger is reliable too, because under his nonchalance, hid anger, anger that if looked at too closely wasn’t that, too many layers, all too negative,
Anger is good,
Anger might convince Jabber to come back and fight
Anger might fuel him a bit more so that he could prove himself-
He throws her at him, and the blunt edge of lovely assistaffs head hits jabber in the back of his head, forcing a noise of surprise out of him, because he’s uncontrolled, undisciplined, a no good genius relying on his talent, skilled nowhere else, Zanka seethes.
Grabbing jabbers collar before he can even fully turn around to bitch more, words stolen out from right under him with a heavy punch
Because zanka has the build for punching.
He went through the hellguard academy as a top student.
He lost that position, and then he dropped out
He swings assistaffs true from around, she’s metal and tall, heavy to grip and hit with
She’s a stick, not even a true weapon
And he hits again, and again
And jabbers mind catches up with the situation and he laughs again, letting himself be hit over, and over and over-
Until their in the mud, zanka panting and jabber laughing, bloody and bruised and swollen,
And a laugh escapes zanka too, he doesn’t quite realise the sound is there even after he discovers that his own breathing is coming out odd and shaking his chest with it, hears the noise and can’t quite associate it with himself, because his mind has gone else where, his knuckles finding smooth skin, his fingers finding perfectly twisted locks, his fists pulling at a collar just to push it back into the ground,
And then he does register the sound, right as it breaks into something that isn’t exactly a laugh anymore, right as jabber looks up at him with no more laughter in his eyes, just something he can’t quite name, hasn’t quite seen, right as his hands stop, and the sound comes again.
And again, and again,
suddenly he can’t quite make out jabbers features, eyes bluring for a reason he doesn’t quite want to name
This is shameful,
Too weak
To fragile,
he moves to get up, moves to reach for assistaff, moves, just anything, anything to get away, anything to find a hole and curl up in it and die-
Since when had Jabber been holding his wrist? Sitting up so that he’s practically chest to chest with zanka,
He must look awful, bloody, snotty, crying
Horrible,
Jabber stops his hand from coming up
“Hey, let’s party ‘mother time, key?” He hums, tilting his head like he’s looking at something he just has to see more of and a grin spreads across his face like he wants more of it, like it does when he gets a particularly good hit “you’ve still got something in there for me”
Zanka…
Thinks he really did get hit by one of those claws