District Four Tournament Day One: Merluccius vs Sinclair

He awoke on the morning of the tournament in a cold sweat, once again regretting his decision to throw himself into an environment that he knew he was not comfortable with. Dominic had curbed some of his anxiety within the last year of training, but he still quaked at the prospect of having to go head to head with someone. His partner would always poke fun at him, career or non-career, and although he’d swing his sword or thrust his spear with increased speed and ferocity, his hand still shook while he did it.

Seeing that he had been partnered with Madelyn Sinclair didn’t do much to ease his nerves - career girls could be particularly vicious like their male counterparts - but as he crossed the beach to meet her, he realized that she didn’t seem particularly threatening. You say that now, he remarked to himself.

They made eye contact, and Madelyn introduced herself. ”Hey, Nic, is it? It’s been a pleasure to meet you. Maybe after this, we can surf?” He could only muster a nod before turning to pick up his trident and feeling hers graze against the back of his head.

Dominic turned his body slowing before lunging forward, hoping to land somewhere that would weaken her but wouldn’t somehow accidentally kill her.

Eye for an eye, gash for a gash. Dominic saw Madelyn stumble and gasp, and he fought to suppress the apology crawling up his throat. Then she raised her trident and carved a similar cut into his neck, just barely missing his jugular. He wheezed instinctively, pressing his hand to the new wound.

"Good shot," he spluttered nervously. Fuck. "Hope the next one's not so good."

He didn't say it to belittle her - rather, he genuinely hoped that he'd be able to leave this fight in one piece. But in a fight, anything you said was ammunition. Dominic was hoping he wasn't the one to bring a trident to a gunfight.

Somewhere, his father was probably watching. If he wasn't, someone else was doing it for him. And he would not disappoint.

[dominic attacks madelyn with trident (spear)]
total damage: 14.5/25

"I was never much of a surfer, anyways," Dominic quipped, wincing as the flesh on his arm split open to reveal the tender fat underneath. His hand felt limp as he grasped his trident, but he refused to give in. Not yet.

A weak growl rumbled in his throat, and he tried to emulate what he had learned in training. Feet apart, shoulders loose, non-dominant hand forward. Whether it was made by him or by Madelyn, there was bound to be a last move within the next few minutes. Dominic hoped it was his, but he wasn't so sure it would be. Hopefully pop's not too disappointed. I held my own.

"You know, I like you too, Madelyn," he breathed, and he meant it. She seemed nice enough, or at least good enough at faking it. Most people around here wouldn't even attempt a facade anymore, not when you wanted to build a reign of terror once you entered the arena. "You've got good sportsmanship."

[dom attacks mad again]