He did not often indulge himself in the student body. He liked the fighters, those that struggled against adversity and he enjoyed toying with them in the arena. In fact there had only been been one student that he indulged with, a scrappy fighter and while now he had not been looking for anything of anyone in particular he coupd not help but land and indulge himself with a particular student that he could see.

What was she doing? The canopy of trees disguised his approach as he weaved through the trees landind in a crouch on on of the thick branches.

All three of his eyes gazed down at this student, a twisted grin on his features as he looked at her. She was here, he had spied her by chance and while she might not be a physical challenge he would take her, use her because he could.

Well, mayber she might give him a physical challenge after all. Gersham smile, a fiendish little grin.

It is your lucky day, he called down to her wearing that same grin. “Now, let me give you your prize.[/b] He swooped down from the trees at her then.

It was an old little clearing. Tainted by memory and ghosts of memories forgotten. Time and again Kite decided never to come here again, never to stand again upon the ground where she had fought and fallen so many, many times. She knew how much had spilt upon this soil from out of her body, blood and semen both.

She used to come here to exercise, but no longer, not since finding a sparring partner among the other students with whom she could actually push to her physical limits. And while all sides of her were now at their most calm and comfortable these days when she had some excuse to go see Vera, or better, was so summoned, there was a different kind of calm to be found here.

And so she stood in the centre of the clearing. Upon one so soiled that nothing may take root, spilt seed is soon forgotten. But blood calls to blood. And so much of the blood in this ground remembered her differently.

"i will know you." Kite stood with her left arm extended, palm up, the tattoo of a katana with a fractured sheathe and a wax seal over the join exposed, save for the hilt in her palm hidden by her near everpresent fingerless gloves. "We will know you." Her right hand moves to grasp the seal emblazed on her left wrist. "And when we know you, we will break you."

And so she stood in meditation for a considerable time, until being interrupted by the shout. Her pigtails bobbed as she turned, a wild, almost bestial smile on her face. "i do love a good prize, let's see how much of it i can break!" As he swooped down she did not flee, but actually stepped towards the grinning creature, crouching briefly in order to launch her entire body behind an elbow aimed for the front of his throat.

Too late he had realized that this was some sort of summoning ritual and while he was not whollly a demon but half demon something had to calll to him in order to draw him her on a subconscious.

She was a student and he had expected her to run, it was a fruitless endeavor fighting the effects of the inhibitors though he was surprised that she held her ground rather than seeking to flee. He was in chase mode not fight mode though it would take a mere moment to switch gears as he moved forward he rolled to his left in a wing over to avoid the elbow.

He soon landed before running into the trees out lining the clearing. Having done the wing over and not being high enough when he started it he came down on his knees and tumbled in the same direction that he was doing the wing over in, the black feathery wings vanishing as he made contact with the ground, his head turning towards her as he kipped up from a prone position.

A screamer and not a runner, eh? Then I hope not to disappoint.

Small claws extended from his hands, needle like fangs lined his mouth as he had been pleased not to have to chase her, she was making this easy for him in a way. He wouldn't have been able to use his wings to persue her though that was quite alright, he had other means available to him in that case but considering that she was not running he approached this differently now, curious as to why she sought out this encounter as he came at her, not head on but more to the sied, making her have to shift to keep him directly in front of her.

Running away was obviously not part of the vocabulary of a student who the school's regenerative medical technology had still left looking like she'd been the pass-around girl at the wrong sort of fetish-club on Woodchipper Night.

Kite didn't turn to keep him in front of her as he approached, keeping her feet planted. "Come -on- kriomang, let's see if i can make you pay some blood for your game." He was taller than her, but really, had she ever fought anyone smaller than her? He didn't seem like he was trying to circle at a distance, just to take her from the side. As he gets closer, she expects him to try to grab her, and so instead dives for the ground, twisting as she goes to let her lash out with both legs mid-roll, trying to drive her heels into the back of his knee. He looked hominid in shape and most of his motion, so hopefully, he hurts like one.

Oh, no, he had not tried to grab her. Rather he made a sweeping gesture with his clawed left hand as he cane in from the front but at an angle. It seemed as if he wanted to toy with her, spill more of her blood in this circle thiugh she dropped as he attacked and rolled to the same effect then lashed out at him.

In the arena the attack would have been far more effective though the inhibitors turned aside a lot of the blow. His knee buckled and he growled in frustration, after dealing with folks in the arena for so long he didn't think an actual student could harm him here of all places then his mind turned to how he wwas surprised in his first arena outing.

So no games. He turned to face her, but had not advanced. Instead the black miasma sprang forth on his hand, the dark flame was cold to te touch, chilling. He then hurl the globe at her another of the black darts forming in it's place as he hurled that too, a third spring up and a forth each being replaced as he hurled them.

Kite had quickly scrambled herself a little space after kicking him, in time to dodge the first black fireball, though, perhaps insanely, she actually tried to catch the second in her left hand.

This goes about as well as could be rationally expected, though in combat was not where Kite was often known for rationality. She screams in pain as it throws her against the ground, the flame clinging to her arm, though slowly seeping in, seemingly through the cracks in the tattooed sheathe. It takes her a few crucial moments to get back to her feet, if he allowed her them.

The miasma burst forth with icy flames that were chilling rather than burning. He allowed her to scramble to her feet only because he felt no danger. He did grin at her recklessness though he stalked forward with an uneven gait seeing that her blow to his leg had been somewhat effective so she had to have caught him in the right spot.

He summoned a whip to his hand though so he had not had to get too close. Really a weapon was over kill in a way but he grinned as the shadowy lash trailed to the earth ithself. He studied here a moment, then he snapped the whip to the side as those sickly black flames died down.

I hardly expect you to submit, especially now my dear, let's make this interestining ...

He gestured at the ground near her legs, skeletal hands erupting from the ground clawing and grasping at her legs the same time he cracked the shadowy lash at her, which is it struck would bring with it numbing cold.

"Finally, one of you fuckers with rational expectations." Kite hissed as she sat up, gritting her teeth and letting hate and fury give her strength.

Her focus was on him and the whip, even as the bony fingers wrapped around her legs, and while the lash bit deeply into her shoulder, it's only the tip of a whip that has impact. A whipping victim is usually restrained to keep them from doing exactly as Kite did, refusing to try to dodge the blow to instead catch the whip in the moment of slack when the momentum ends, twisting her hand quickly to crudely anchor it.

Her breathing was haggard with pain and the creeping numbness, but she grinned anyway, here on the bloodied edge Kite was in her most primal element, tugging at the whip, pulling against the digusting bones. "You know what they call a berserk who can't feel her fists, kriomang?"

Kite yanked with all the strength she could muster while hurling herself forward, hoping to tear free of the skeletal hands and launch herself to drive a shoulder into the pit of his stomach, screaming in defiance, "A really bad fucking day!"

Gersham raised a brow at her question not the fact that she had grabbed the whip. That was sensible actual and he had anticipated that move planning on delivering an electric shock straight through the weapon into her but even with the inhibitors in place he misjudged her strength not having a firm grasp on the whip she pulled it from his grasp though once it left his grasp the weapon broke up into the shadowy substance it was formed of braking apart in whispy trails of smoke.

The bony arms held her firm long enough to tip her hand as she lunged forward he stepped back giving that few extra seconds it took for her to brake free.

Shadow Stepping through one shadow and transporting himself to another he appeared some distance away, fling another black dart at her back as he brought that sickly black flame back to his hands.

A bad day only if you get close enough to use them, he chuckled still playing with her a little, at least for now. He had dealt with Iria before and that was without inhibitors, now he had them and wondered what it would be like in an actual fight with her, the inhibitors ensured that this wasn't anything more than foreplay.

There is no path but forward.

Kite charges headlong for him, fucking teleporters. Maybe he couldn't do it again quickly? If not, she'd come up with something. She always came up with something. And unless he's holding out and he can turn those things in midflight, the big telegraphed throws were simple enough to dodge. He was playing with her. She knew that easily enough. But plenty had bled for underestimating her before. A feint of an uppercut might get her a chance to grind a stamp-kick into the ankle of his already slightly injured leg. Or he'll just teleport again rather than deal with her. That was fine too, in its own way. It meant he wasn't laying a hand on her, either.

Gersham grinned as she rushed at him, those matters fluttering through her mind as he chantedwhile tossing the black darts at her which she avoided. He had only meant to slow her but he still needed a little time to completed the spell and thus he stppted back further into the shadows.

He teleported from shadowy area to shadowy area with ease affirming to her just what he was capable of doing but he had only needed a few seconds to finish the incantation. Realizing that she wamted to get close black shadowy flames burst out of his skin, they seemed to be the same substance of the black miasma itself.

If she were content to bring the fight to him then she would suffer. Waves of inense cold would give as good as he got even if it did nothing to mitigate the injuries that she would inflict. Those feather black wings unfurling magically from his back as he began to stride forward as the skeletal hands vanished.

Let's see what you have.

If she proved interesting he might want to see her full potential in the arena sometime.

Dashing about chasing teleporting motherfuckers was not Kite's idea of a good time. She could, and had, marathoned with the best of them, but the frustration built quickly as he kept Running Away!

And then he stopped, and the flame he'd been flinging now wrapped him in a blazing, and presumably frigid sheathe. She ran her right forearm across her forehead to flick away the sweat, "Pounding on you fuckers used to be a hell of a lot easier." But then, IEDs make all sorts of violent confrontations easier, and lobotomies make them harder.

She charged again anyway, straight for his centre. If he was done running away, she'd start by driving the heel of her palm downward into the top of his leg, and spinning to try to drive her elbow into his stomach on the other side. Retreat was something Kite would not conceive of, and she was not flinching from the flames as she struck him. Though with her sustained assault, Gersham's arcane sight could see how. It was not that she was resisting the flame's effects, but magically speaking there was a hole of sorts inside her, remnant of some vast wound of the soul, and she had turned this too into a weapon. The miasma's chill tore at her flesh, but she drew a portion of it into that wound as if to digest it, to accustom herself to it, so that her mind could know what came with each blow and override her body's response. So she could come to know him.

He did not attempt to evade her this time as he came forward to meet her advance. The flames did not deter her. He stayed close to the shados of one tree though rather than moving into the center of the clearing needing sadows to Shadow Step it was more an unconscious effort that he picked up from the arena.

He allowed her to land the blow though, that could washing though her as at the same time he made a quick slashing motion with those small claws against her chest. Provded tat she did not follow up with the elbow He would bring his shoulder against her to test how sure footed She was though if the elbow still came he would only defend against it if it came at his face or neck trying to use a hand to deflect it 0ther wise he was willing to make a bit of a scrifice knowing that the impact would probably effect her more with than she could effect him due to the inhibitors he was willing to leave hinself more opened.

She had to have a brain if she were into summonings, he surmissed this was a summons but yet she contradicted that by falling unto berserker mode so he was unsure about the contradiction, Of couse if she wanted a fight he was more than willing to give her one.

Claws versus cloth only goes one way. Pulling back from his strike, Kite's blouse is shredded, and her sports bra along with it. Shame is for those who believe they have something to hide, exposure will not deterr her, though the lack of support does mean she'll have to choose her attacks a little more carefully. At least she's not 'big' enough that she'll risk hitting herself with a runaway tit.

He'd put her briefly on the defensive with the swipe, but there's a word for when a big man shoulder-checks a small woman. Opportunity. Kite turns partially aside from the blow, crouching again, one hand going for his chest and the other between his legs, if she's lucky he's put enough force into the blow that she can roll him over her and slam that stupid grin right into the turf.

There was more of her blood collected on the ground though his claws inflicted pain they were not capable of cutting deep enough to do much damage. Flesh and cloth tore away though he was guick in driving her back though she recovered quickly essentially scoop slamming him and catching him off guard. He was more surprised than hurt, landing on those wings cushioned the blow some what and ne lashed out a hand at her leg trying to flip her off her feet to knock her prone rather than trying to get up and being pounded for the effort. One thing as a result, he was not grinning any further.