01-29-2010, 10:19 PM
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I'm pretty sure you said that I could disarm Daisuke, so that's what I'm going to do! At least partially. 691.
He had not been quick enough—the golden wolf had managed to get his arm up to absorb the blow before Snake could have gotten around to hitting him square in the chest. It was still a mighty impact—one that Snake thought, bitterly, he might have felt more than his enemy—which pushed the wolf a few feet away before he scrambled back. Looking too calm for the situation (as that was what he did in such times), Snake straightened up once more, taking his usual stance of one shoulder forward and one back. His eyes were sharpening once more, observing the smallest twitch of every muscle. His eyes were obviously attracted to the two blades that Daisuke had strapped to his arms, the same that he had found in the same shop that Snake had found his 1911 Custom. A dark part of him wished that the gun worked—he could end it right now, so quickly, before anyone could blink. The twitch of a finger and someone was bleeding on the ground, dead in under a minute. The genius of humanity, magicians in the ways of death of their fellows.
Of course, that might have been the whispers of a chaotic subconscious. His active mind was telling him that he could not hurt this wolf, one whom had been a good friend to him. He was still amazed that they were fighting like this, but Daisuke seemed beside himself; he was deluded, not seeing Snake at all. He knew that he would either have to knock some sense into him or make him flee from Inferni. If not... well, Snake might have to do what he was trained to do.
Regardless, he knew that this was a fight for steel, so he drew his knife from where it was clasped behind his back. He held it loosely in his right hand, pivoting as Daisuke stalked off to his right. He was watching him so closely, and making no assumptions, so he noticed quickly when the wolf shot off to the opposite direction. Snake waited, as always, to the last second. He flirted with that death strike, and there was a thrill as it came. It might be twisted, but he did feel most alive when in the jaws of death. He took a quick step at the last moment, and to the side. The blade hissed in front of him. Daisuke leaped back and Snake circled, bobbing away from another slash of the blade. He was being too defensive now—if he wanted to get this over with, he would have to get on the offensive. And that meant that he would have to take some risks.
That came with the third strike. Another standard slash, something that Snake had been pitted against countless times. Usually he would dodge backward, but this time he went forward. He slide out to the side, but to the side that was away from Daisuke's body instead of towards it. This would make it harder to use the second arm to counterattack. Within that same movement he struck with that lightning-fast accuracy he had perfected; he could have struck at the wolf's elbow and broken his arm with little effort, but he was merciful at the last moment. He struck the bicep again, where the nerves clustered on the back of the arm. That would make it numb for a moment, and Snake used that opportunity. His knife-hand flashed and the ties that attached the blade to Daisuke's arm on that one side were severed. It clattered to the ground. It was a clean cut—easily repaired if one tried later—but he knew it would aid him no more right now. One down, one to go.
He immediately retreated once more, acting like a squadron of guerrilla fighters—hiding in the periphery until they perceived the right time to strike. He kept dodging swipes and slashes with maddening reliability; it was as easy as reading a book to him. For any opponent, to him, was so much more like an open book than any bound set of human papers in the world.
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I'm pretty sure you said that I could disarm Daisuke, so that's what I'm going to do! At least partially. 691.
He had not been quick enough—the golden wolf had managed to get his arm up to absorb the blow before Snake could have gotten around to hitting him square in the chest. It was still a mighty impact—one that Snake thought, bitterly, he might have felt more than his enemy—which pushed the wolf a few feet away before he scrambled back. Looking too calm for the situation (as that was what he did in such times), Snake straightened up once more, taking his usual stance of one shoulder forward and one back. His eyes were sharpening once more, observing the smallest twitch of every muscle. His eyes were obviously attracted to the two blades that Daisuke had strapped to his arms, the same that he had found in the same shop that Snake had found his 1911 Custom. A dark part of him wished that the gun worked—he could end it right now, so quickly, before anyone could blink. The twitch of a finger and someone was bleeding on the ground, dead in under a minute. The genius of humanity, magicians in the ways of death of their fellows.
Of course, that might have been the whispers of a chaotic subconscious. His active mind was telling him that he could not hurt this wolf, one whom had been a good friend to him. He was still amazed that they were fighting like this, but Daisuke seemed beside himself; he was deluded, not seeing Snake at all. He knew that he would either have to knock some sense into him or make him flee from Inferni. If not... well, Snake might have to do what he was trained to do.
Regardless, he knew that this was a fight for steel, so he drew his knife from where it was clasped behind his back. He held it loosely in his right hand, pivoting as Daisuke stalked off to his right. He was watching him so closely, and making no assumptions, so he noticed quickly when the wolf shot off to the opposite direction. Snake waited, as always, to the last second. He flirted with that death strike, and there was a thrill as it came. It might be twisted, but he did feel most alive when in the jaws of death. He took a quick step at the last moment, and to the side. The blade hissed in front of him. Daisuke leaped back and Snake circled, bobbing away from another slash of the blade. He was being too defensive now—if he wanted to get this over with, he would have to get on the offensive. And that meant that he would have to take some risks.
That came with the third strike. Another standard slash, something that Snake had been pitted against countless times. Usually he would dodge backward, but this time he went forward. He slide out to the side, but to the side that was away from Daisuke's body instead of towards it. This would make it harder to use the second arm to counterattack. Within that same movement he struck with that lightning-fast accuracy he had perfected; he could have struck at the wolf's elbow and broken his arm with little effort, but he was merciful at the last moment. He struck the bicep again, where the nerves clustered on the back of the arm. That would make it numb for a moment, and Snake used that opportunity. His knife-hand flashed and the ties that attached the blade to Daisuke's arm on that one side were severed. It clattered to the ground. It was a clean cut—easily repaired if one tried later—but he knew it would aid him no more right now. One down, one to go.
He immediately retreated once more, acting like a squadron of guerrilla fighters—hiding in the periphery until they perceived the right time to strike. He kept dodging swipes and slashes with maddening reliability; it was as easy as reading a book to him. For any opponent, to him, was so much more like an open book than any bound set of human papers in the world.