-5- [Video]

[divine_right]

[Someone appears to have given their Warden the slip, and as she appears on camera, she is thoughtfully considering her bare hand -- which quite suddenly bursts into blue flame. A wicked, triumphant smile passes her lips.]

Now that's more like it!

We'll stay a while, yes? I would so love to mingle.

Comments

[SPAMMAGE]

[slayage]

[Buffy dodges the second blast easily, tumbling to one side of the platform, then flipping to her feet.

She starts to take the steps two at a time, and when she reaches the top, she scans the surroundings and unsurprisingly, doesn't see Azula.

Buffy places her messenger bag at the top of the fire escape and cautiously treads in, reaching out with her senses, focusing.

She then intentionally faces her back to where Azula is and starts to move the other way.]

[SPAMMAGE]

[divine_right]

[Azula didn't figure herself for being that well concealed, but then it's also dark. For a moment she indulges the predatory part of herself that toys with its meal before moving in for the kill. It's a minute or two to savor the fact that she is in control. She already has the upper hand.

As usual, as far as she is concerned. She'll never acknowledge that Buffy probably wordlessly offers an indulgence or two to spare her ego.

She tires of this soon enough, and holds up a palm; it bursts silently to life with blue light. Just as she's letting it fly--]

Too slow.

[SPAMMAGE]

[slayage]

[Buffy knew something was coming, and as soon as she hears the voice of her inmate, she's rolling on the ground and to the side, leaping up instantly. The Slayer starts to charge towards Azula, watchful, light on her feet, and ready.

Losing, especially here, is not an option. No matter how powerful and skilled Azula is, she can't afford to lose. It would kind of ruin everything. Plus, she isn't so sure the girl wouldn't kill her if she had the chance.]

[SPAMMAGE]

[divine_right]

[Azula comes down from her perch, flipping from hand to foot along the edge of the building without any seeming fear of gravity. When she closes in for a strike, albeit sans any burst of flame for once, it is as it was been during their spars in the gymnasium. Her movements to an onlooker who did not know better would seem almost a dance, fluid, sometimes swift, other times slow, but the blows themselves -- how could they have any power behind them? The strikes come from snaps of the wrist or the arm, sometimes the leg, each carrying hidden force.]