[He doesn't dodge fast enough (12), so in the split second after the gun fires and Solomon teleports again, Akira gets rainbow sprinkle grandpa staring right back at him whenever he whips his attention back, looking extremely unamused.
He remains silent outside his incantation, one hand moving to wipe the worst of the confetti out of his face as he messily tries to open up the ground right below Akira's feet. (5)
It seems he's not in the mood for someone to listen to him.]
[That's how it goes sometimes, yeah? Sometimes you aren't in the mood to talk or negotiate. Akira can understand that much, giving into the urge to laugh at Solomon without holding back an ounce of amusement. It occurs to him that he'd love nothing more than to deck that salty sneer right off his face, and perhaps he isn't alone in the desire to duke it out until they've rounded the edges off their mutual frustration.
The ground beneath Akira's feet begins to buck and tremble and he manages to roll to the side, raising his gun in one fluid motion and pulling the trigger. There's no fun and confetti this time, only the fiery pitch black of a magic bullet honing in on Solomon's face. Where would the fun be in holding back? If Solomon eats a blast of magic to the face, he'll have deserved it.]
[Solomon doesn't bother dodging beyond the minimum this time as the bullet hits and cracks its way through a magical barrier, though it does earn a flinch for its speed and a skimming past Solomon's temple with a quick flash of red.
Reconstructing the barrier needs his immediate attention, so Akira gets a breather for a split second.]
Is this the energy you're bringing to a promise? To two?
[It's a breather he takes to lob more bullets in Solomon's direction, working himself up off his knees and onto his feet.
He doesn't appreciate that question, not one bit, but he only lets it so deep under his skin. Magic swells and coalesces on the barrel of his gun, growing larger, hotter, deeper and darker. He aims at Solomon's head, finger idle on the trigger.]
I wouldn't waste that energy on you.
[He fires, the magic bullet fragmenting and breaking off into a dozen different directions. The fiery black fragments dance light lightning among the clouds before convening on Solomon, aiming to hit him from all sides.]
[That earns a teleport back, and then another, the repeated bullets skidding off into the dust before the shocking speed of a spell spirals around Solomon like a bonfire in response to the fragments, an immediate and vaporizing heat. When it flickers down, there's a trail of blood against the side of his face. Another near hit.]
Then what would you waste it on?
[The flames flicker back around him as he strides forward again, slowly.]
To hold the power you have under your magic is to understand the responsibility it carries. To accept every consequence. To see what it is your actions and choices are going to do to others, and not just yourself. You do not have eternity.
You know this much, and you're acting reckless anyway. You're withdrawing at your mistakes and stressors. You're lashing out and challenging. Where are these bonds that are so important to you, Akira?
I would rather see you prove it with a confident heart, than to watch you flounder. [To watch another slip under the waves and to not be able to follow... it's the ache of it that keeps his own magic wavering, that lets those attacks of Akira's slip through and crack him apart.]
[He can only claim to be saving his energy for what matters— for the man he's made his promises to. In truth, Akira is going to hurl everything he has at Solomon and then some because he does matter, because it is important to prove what he's worth to the man who's guided him along from the very beginning.
To tame the hydra is beyond him, Akira now acknowledges, but it's not too late to be seen by it, to have his resolve and his dedication acknowledged. If he can leave Solomon with nothing else, let it be with the knowledge that his apprentice is one who will honor what few promises he makes until his dying breath. He hadn't made them lightly.
Akira wipes the forming sweat from his brow. The blood on Solomon's temple is worth nothing more than the sweat on his own. He's barely made a dent, but if it takes every ounce of magic in his body, he'll prove his point to Solomon.
He lies in wait, poised to strike, while Solomon slowly approaches. Akira steadies his breaths and counts his every step, his palms flat to the earth. Beneath Solomon's feet, beneath his own, the earth begins to tremble.]
Do you think I'd make a promise, any promise, lightly? Give me a break. I'm not going to back down no matter how hard you push me. I don't have any regrets!
[He takes note of the rumbling, but doesn't stop his stride.]
If you didn't make it lightly, you would know that pushing through isn't always the answer. Do you want those you care about to watch you burn in seclusion?
[Do you truly want to be like me?
The fire sparking and flickering around him keeps growing, swirling, before twanging back and sharply crackling forward towards Akira like a volley of arrows.]
[Akira counts the mores of fire swirling around him, calculates which he'll be able to dodge and which he won't. He doesn't labor under the delusion of believing he'll deflect them all. When he rises to his feet and calls forth his broom, the earth still crackling and rumbling beneath their feet, he grips its shaft firmly in both hands and waits for Solomon's attack.]
No. Of course not. I'm going to fulfill my promises no matter what it takes, even if it costs me my life. I won't run away.
[I won't cower in fear.
When Solomon's attack comes, Akira twirls his broom in his hands and dispatches with a number of those fiery arrows, but plenty more stick the landing. One strikes his side, the other his temple, and another digs into the side of his leg. No matter how many hits Solomon lands, Akira is determined to remain on his feet.]
[As Akira braces himself through the hits, Solomon reaches to his belt, to the pouch that has sat at his hip since his time in the North. Out of it emerges a stone of brilliant purple, which is slipped into his mouth and swallowed.
The magic in the air immediately ripples as Solomon's expression tightens, as though bracing.]
You cannot be a wall. You cannot stand against everything.
[The air around Akira will start to grow warm, to constrict against his limbs and his neck. Spirit of wind, bind that which stands in front of him--]
You are human. If your promises are as valuable as your life, then you protect them equally.
Are you so determined to keep your chin held high that you'd let anyone, anything, rip you to pieces? Who are you proving anything to, other than yourself?
[Mana stones? Cheater. Then again, did he expect Solomon to play fair? Akira has no such tools at his disposal, but as a bird takes flight in the hours preceding a natural disaster, Akira feels the air around him disturb and begins his retreat. With his front to Solomon, he advances backwards, faster still when the wind surges around him in a bid to chain him in place. Fat chance.
Akira breaks away and runs, around and away, keeping Solomon ever in his periphery while countering with ground-shaking magic that threatens to buck the man off his feet. It's a counter and nothing more, a measure to buy himself time to grow the distance between them.]
Can it with the lecture! What do you want from me?!
[A willing student? A mound of clay to mold? All Akira can do when his life is on the line and his tools are ineffective is run, run, run, until the opportunity arises to strike back and claim victory. So far, his options have only grown more narrow.]
There's the slightest of smiles before that magic knocks him down, his composure breaking as he stumbles for purchase. But a breath, two, and he flickers in place once more, alighting instead several feet to Akira's left. From this close, he looks drained.]
I want you to live. And sometimes, to live means to retreat.
And to retreat, sometimes your legs are never going to be fast enough.
[A snap of his fingers brings the flames right back, even as he slips another mana stone into his mouth.]
I told you this would be training.
Fight, flight, or freeze. They are not your only options. But if you're determined to force your way through, rather than around, all the training in the world won't help you.
[Akira squints, no, sneers at the man. No need to ask if he's gone insane when Akira already knows the answer.]
Are you sure you don't just want to kick my ass?
[Akira summons wind beneath his feet to propel him backwards and away, to give himself a head start so there's more room to navigate between himself and those flames. More distance means more time to react, more time to study whatever the hell Solomon just did. Teleportation, or was it an illusion?]
Oh, Akira. You would know if I was trying to kill you.
...
I don't find pleasure in violence, though. Nor do I in losing another apprentice.
[Good, good, another move for distance rather than close combat.
Solomon doesn't move from his new position, letting the flames flicker and snap at Akira like venomous snakes.]
So no, I don't think I will. Spill, that is. Rather... how are you going to make it to me, from where you are, without running and without raising your weapon in aggression? Do you believe it's possible in the first place?
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no subject
He remains silent outside his incantation, one hand moving to wipe the worst of the confetti out of his face as he messily tries to open up the ground right below Akira's feet. (5)
It seems he's not in the mood for someone to listen to him.]
no subject
The ground beneath Akira's feet begins to buck and tremble and he manages to roll to the side, raising his gun in one fluid motion and pulling the trigger. There's no fun and confetti this time, only the fiery pitch black of a magic bullet honing in on Solomon's face. Where would the fun be in holding back? If Solomon eats a blast of magic to the face, he'll have deserved it.]
no subject
Reconstructing the barrier needs his immediate attention, so Akira gets a breather for a split second.]
Is this the energy you're bringing to a promise? To two?
no subject
He doesn't appreciate that question, not one bit, but he only lets it so deep under his skin. Magic swells and coalesces on the barrel of his gun, growing larger, hotter, deeper and darker. He aims at Solomon's head, finger idle on the trigger.]
I wouldn't waste that energy on you.
[He fires, the magic bullet fragmenting and breaking off into a dozen different directions. The fiery black fragments dance light lightning among the clouds before convening on Solomon, aiming to hit him from all sides.]
no subject
Then what would you waste it on?
[The flames flicker back around him as he strides forward again, slowly.]
To hold the power you have under your magic is to understand the responsibility it carries. To accept every consequence. To see what it is your actions and choices are going to do to others, and not just yourself. You do not have eternity.
You know this much, and you're acting reckless anyway. You're withdrawing at your mistakes and stressors. You're lashing out and challenging. Where are these bonds that are so important to you, Akira?
I would rather see you prove it with a confident heart, than to watch you flounder. [To watch another slip under the waves and to not be able to follow... it's the ache of it that keeps his own magic wavering, that lets those attacks of Akira's slip through and crack him apart.]
no subject
To tame the hydra is beyond him, Akira now acknowledges, but it's not too late to be seen by it, to have his resolve and his dedication acknowledged. If he can leave Solomon with nothing else, let it be with the knowledge that his apprentice is one who will honor what few promises he makes until his dying breath. He hadn't made them lightly.
Akira wipes the forming sweat from his brow. The blood on Solomon's temple is worth nothing more than the sweat on his own. He's barely made a dent, but if it takes every ounce of magic in his body, he'll prove his point to Solomon.
He lies in wait, poised to strike, while Solomon slowly approaches. Akira steadies his breaths and counts his every step, his palms flat to the earth. Beneath Solomon's feet, beneath his own, the earth begins to tremble.]
Do you think I'd make a promise, any promise, lightly? Give me a break. I'm not going to back down no matter how hard you push me. I don't have any regrets!
no subject
If you didn't make it lightly, you would know that pushing through isn't always the answer. Do you want those you care about to watch you burn in seclusion?
[Do you truly want to be like me?
The fire sparking and flickering around him keeps growing, swirling, before twanging back and sharply crackling forward towards Akira like a volley of arrows.]
no subject
No. Of course not. I'm going to fulfill my promises no matter what it takes, even if it costs me my life. I won't run away.
[I won't cower in fear.
When Solomon's attack comes, Akira twirls his broom in his hands and dispatches with a number of those fiery arrows, but plenty more stick the landing. One strikes his side, the other his temple, and another digs into the side of his leg. No matter how many hits Solomon lands, Akira is determined to remain on his feet.]
no subject
The magic in the air immediately ripples as Solomon's expression tightens, as though bracing.]
You cannot be a wall. You cannot stand against everything.
[The air around Akira will start to grow warm, to constrict against his limbs and his neck. Spirit of wind, bind that which stands in front of him--]
You are human. If your promises are as valuable as your life, then you protect them equally.
Are you so determined to keep your chin held high that you'd let anyone, anything, rip you to pieces? Who are you proving anything to, other than yourself?
no subject
Akira breaks away and runs, around and away, keeping Solomon ever in his periphery while countering with ground-shaking magic that threatens to buck the man off his feet. It's a counter and nothing more, a measure to buy himself time to grow the distance between them.]
Can it with the lecture! What do you want from me?!
[A willing student? A mound of clay to mold? All Akira can do when his life is on the line and his tools are ineffective is run, run, run, until the opportunity arises to strike back and claim victory. So far, his options have only grown more narrow.]
no subject
There's the slightest of smiles before that magic knocks him down, his composure breaking as he stumbles for purchase. But a breath, two, and he flickers in place once more, alighting instead several feet to Akira's left. From this close, he looks drained.]
I want you to live. And sometimes, to live means to retreat.
And to retreat, sometimes your legs are never going to be fast enough.
[A snap of his fingers brings the flames right back, even as he slips another mana stone into his mouth.]
I told you this would be training.
Fight, flight, or freeze. They are not your only options. But if you're determined to force your way through, rather than around, all the training in the world won't help you.
no subject
Are you sure you don't just want to kick my ass?
[Akira summons wind beneath his feet to propel him backwards and away, to give himself a head start so there's more room to navigate between himself and those flames. More distance means more time to react, more time to study whatever the hell Solomon just did. Teleportation, or was it an illusion?]
If there's a secret fourth option, spill.
no subject
Oh, Akira. You would know if I was trying to kill you.
...
I don't find pleasure in violence, though. Nor do I in losing another apprentice.
[Good, good, another move for distance rather than close combat.
Solomon doesn't move from his new position, letting the flames flicker and snap at Akira like venomous snakes.]
So no, I don't think I will. Spill, that is. Rather... how are you going to make it to me, from where you are, without running and without raising your weapon in aggression? Do you believe it's possible in the first place?