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[icy_veins]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, ERIDANUS SUNGAZER. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 099.23.886.00 *** Archmage has joined 099.23.886.00 <Archmage> Hello, this is Eridanus Sungazer. <Archmage> In the event I am currently unavailable, please leave a message. <Archmage> I will answer back, promptly. If I feel you are worth the trouble.

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[icy_veins]

[Caught in the entanglement of blades, Eridanus feels the way the weight in Lucius' falchion shifts. The way it slides and presses against the cross-guard of his shorter blade, the vibrations of smooth metal gliding across metal felt in the palm of his hand. Where there's a gap between their sheer strength, Lucius makes up for it in a quickness both practiced and gifted in his feline form. Even if he were to leap from the attack, in such close proximity, the tip of that blade would still find its mark.

So, with no other choices left to him, Eridanus decides in that microsecond that softening the blow is his best chance. A subtle shift in his footing has him turning just as well, just enough so that the tip of Lucius' falchion finds the tougher meat of his back. Still, it wedges into the stone-flesh and pulls a breathless grunt of pain from Eridanus' throat.

Regardless of the wound now soaking his shirt bloody, he focuses his attentions on his short-blade—glancing it off of the falchion and driving upwards towards Lucius' arm. To the onlooker, they would look like nothing so much as lovers entangled within an impassioned embrace; and yet, for Eridanus, he only has the thought of driving his short-sword into the tender meat of Lucius' bicep in his mind.]

[chemoscion]

[ As Lucius feels the cut of his blade into the rocky slab of Eridanus' back, his eyes narrow. The hardness of its flesh holds his weapon there, a sword in the stone, a second longer than he would like; still, that second too long forces him to forego a second strike, Lucius winching his weight onto his back foot to make the space to intercept that stabbing attack with his sabre, the weapon awkwardly long in the slim gap between them.

The falchion gripped by Eridanus' ungiving skin slips free; this time, Lucius does skirt back again, shaking blood from its edge with his eyes narrowed to predatory slits. ]

I don't know whether I should commend you or scold you for that. [ It certainly isn't a maneuver that would have saved him in his rightful shape. He exhales through his nose, tongue slithering between his lips as though tasting the air, as his eyes drop to the broad expanse of Eridanus' chest. ]

Funny, [ he muses, expression glinting with sudden mischief as his gaze flits back to Eridanus' own. ] Right now, this stance would seem to suit me more than it does you, Archmage.

[icy_veins]

[As Lucius puts space between them, so does Eridanus—a few nimble steps, just enough to have the time to formulate his next move. Still, he isn't sure if the expression his consort wears, regardless of his words, is one of irritation or recognition of a proper foe. In the idle span of his thoughts, his grip on his saber loosens, and despite that his skin were like stone, he rolls his shoulder as if trying to ease the throbbing pain in his back.]

Unfortunately, [and as he continues, Eridanus adjusts his grip once more,] I bear the wrong sword for any other style.

[A longer sword, perhaps even one meant to be wielded with two hands, would be better suited to his aggressive form. A nimble sword-style was meant for a nimble race—though if he were to cast aside his off-hand, Eridanus wonders just how well he could fight without it.]

Would you prefer I fight you in a more bestial way, my Eternal?

[chemoscion]

[ Like the heated breath of a lover against his throat, the question washes excitement down Lucius' spine. Beneath the cloth of his shirt—for there would be no honor in meeting an unarmored opponent in anything more—the fur decorating his skin stands on end; the cage of his fangs parts where a rictus grin had pulled it taut, and his tongue lolls free to lick the air with an eager hunger.

He recalls what it had been like—but that had only been seen secondhand, and now, the thought of finding himself overwhelmed by his lover's bestial strength tightens his muscles with shuddering desire. It's a question answered first with laughter, his paired blades twirling restless patterns through the air at his sides. ]

I was going to say I could teach you, the way you have so graciously taught me. [ His grin pulls the muscles of his face taut once more, but even so, the heated gaze that meets Eridanus' swims with his lust still. It's a fair joke, that a marine's style better suits Eridanus in kind, but...

Lucius' weight shifts, falling onto his back foot, and the falchion in his off-hand raises in the air between them. ]

Here. Maybe this would look better in your hand.

[ It isn't a heavy blade, made for graceful slicing movement above all, but it is what had suited Lucius for the last ten millennia or so. ]

[icy_veins]

[Exertion rises and falls his chest with panting breaths, Eridanus' verdant gaze settled upon Lucius unblinking, watching him with a predator's interest as the offer remains hanging in the air. He's known his lover long enough now to recognize when something has caught his attention—the way his tail flicks, the way his pupils tighten into umbral slits, the way his arms strain with barely contained excitement, and of course, the way his serpentine tongue lolls past his lips like some scenting organ. All of it shivers through his skin, whipping his own tufted tail through the air with a hound's eagerness to please.

And then, his master's answer comes, and before words have even formed in his mind to respond, Eridanus' tip-toing steps carry him forward. That space that Lucius had put between them is shortened in just two long strides, stopping just shy enough that when Eridanus looks down upon his consort, he would be able to feel the heat of each excited pant that left his own, parted lips.]

You would allow me to use your falchion? [He asks, the question redundant as he raises his left hand—still clutching his dagger—and offers the off-handed weapon in return.] I am greatly honored.