Clone Verse: Test
Jun. 19th, 2013 10:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
esp_dragonFandom: Noblesse
Summary: X-87 and L-68 testing each others' powers.
Rating: PG-13
Contains: Swearing. And more swearing. L-68's a little, ah, annoyed. And a casual swearer. Yeah
Notes: Set between Introduction and Bind.
Genre: General
Word count: 961
Status: Work in progress
L-68 eyed X-87 across the room from him, not sure what to expect. The scientists had told him the X-series were better than the L-series, their transformations stronger and more widespread than their own. Rather than accepting what the data the main server had told her, B-01 had wanted to see their strengths first-hand so there they were, about to spar.
He transformed his arms, feeling the familiar itch of his fur spreading up them and he flexed his hands, preparing for whatever was going to happen next.
X-87 did the same, only one of his ar -
"Are you fucking kidding me," L-68 demanded, gawking at X-87's transformation for a second. A line of white spikes ran down from his shoulder to his elbow - the reason why they stopped at his elbow was because the rest of his arm decided it wanted to be a fucking tentacle monster, thick black tendrils spreading out above his hand like they were extra fingers. Except each of them were the width of his wrist. And if that wasn't enough, X-87's transformed black hand was three times the size of his regular one, every joint tipped with a spike. It was like the scientists decided, 'Well, fuck, I don't think they have enough spikes – let's add more'.
X-87 quirked a small smile at him, only one side of his mouth going up and L-68 scowled. Whatever. He was going to give it all he had either way. He wasn't going to back down just because of what X-87's transformation looked like.
L-68 dashed towards X-87, slashing straight at him. He wasn't surprised when X-87 leapt out the way but L-68 kept going, using the wall as a springboard and redirected himself at X-87. His next attack actually connected with X-87's arm and L-68 shoved-
"Fuck!" He scrambled back, yanking his arm away from the fucking tentacles that had wrapped themselves around his arm. So they weren't just decoration.
Shit. Attacking at a distance meant X-87 would see him coming, and moving in close meant he got in range of the tentacles. If he had a couple of knives on him, they would have helped, but he didn't and there no point whining about it.
And that was all the time he had to think, X-87 closing the gap between them and fuck, L-68 was just able to block but even then, X-87 had been so fucking close to breaking his guard straight away.
As soon as they made contact, X-87's tentacles grabbed his arms and L-68 snarled, twisting his wrists to slash at them.
It worked, X-87 backing up a step, letting go and L-68 lashed out again, trying to make more space for himself.
They went on like that for a few minutes, X-87 nearly overwhelming him through sheer fucking power and L-68 only just able to hold him off.
One arm. X-87 was like this with only one fucking arm transformed; it was no fucking wonder the scientists said the X-series were stronger than them.
But X-87 was tiring, his attacks a hair slower compared to earlier and L-68 spotted a gap in his attack. It would have been covered by his tentacles, but if he could force X-87 back again properly, then he could get away from the fucking wall and maybe start his own counterattack instead of def-
L-68 halted when blood splattered across the floor, surprised he'd managed to connect. Yeah, X-87 was slowing down but he hadn't expected by that much.
Thump.
L-68 stared incredulously, wondering if this was a trap because all he'd done was scratch X-87's face (and his regeneration should have started to kick in already) so what the fuck was he doing falling to his knees? Was he that unused to pain?
"L-68, stop."
He jerked back at the order and glared over his shoulder at B-01. "Why?"
She was staring at X-87, her eyebrows drawn in. "His heartrate is currently 260 over 170."
L-68 blinked, lowering his hands. That was not normal.
"I'll be fine in a minute," X-87 wheezed, his arm reverting back to normal with a hiss.
"…You sound like you can't even breathe," L-68 said, gazing at him. He reverted his own arms back, scratching them when they done. This was the powerful X-series?
"I – I can."
"X-87."
X-87 lifted his head to look at B-01. L-68 could see the sheen of sweat on his brow amongst the blood – the sweat was too much to have come from just the spar and he looked paler than before.
X-87 fucking smiled at her. "Heh," he said, his chest heaving. "My body's pretty unstable; I can't hold my transformation for long before I get tired."
"You're…kidding," he said flatly, looking X-87 over. He had pretty much been getting his ass kicked by someone whose blood hadn't stabilised. …So how strong did that make the others?
"Nope." X-87 held his relaxed smile, but his tensed shoulders were easy to see and so were his clenched fists on his knees.
Well, fuck. With the re-evaluations, they could be shit out of luck, but it wasn't like that was anything new when you were owned by the Union.
L-68 crossed his arms, sighing. "Fine," he said, shrugging.
"Eh?" X-87 blinked, his smile melting away to confusion. "You're not mad?"
He glanced at him and then looked away, rubbing a spot where X-87 had left a bruise. "You can fight." That was what mattered, and once his blood settled… It would be interesting to see what X-87 could do then.
"Ah, you're good too," X-87 said as he hefted himself to his feet. The smile on X-87's face was smaller than the one he wore before, but it seemed more real.
L-68 smirked at him.
__________________________________________
I'm amused how Key and I know and write similar traits about Xeno that we didn't actually discuss with each other. XDDD;;; (Or did we? It's been a while, pfft.)
Summary: X-87 and L-68 testing each others' powers.
Rating: PG-13
Contains: Swearing. And more swearing. L-68's a little, ah, annoyed. And a casual swearer. Yeah
Notes: Set between Introduction and Bind.
Genre: General
Word count: 961
Status: Work in progress
L-68 eyed X-87 across the room from him, not sure what to expect. The scientists had told him the X-series were better than the L-series, their transformations stronger and more widespread than their own. Rather than accepting what the data the main server had told her, B-01 had wanted to see their strengths first-hand so there they were, about to spar.
He transformed his arms, feeling the familiar itch of his fur spreading up them and he flexed his hands, preparing for whatever was going to happen next.
X-87 did the same, only one of his ar -
"Are you fucking kidding me," L-68 demanded, gawking at X-87's transformation for a second. A line of white spikes ran down from his shoulder to his elbow - the reason why they stopped at his elbow was because the rest of his arm decided it wanted to be a fucking tentacle monster, thick black tendrils spreading out above his hand like they were extra fingers. Except each of them were the width of his wrist. And if that wasn't enough, X-87's transformed black hand was three times the size of his regular one, every joint tipped with a spike. It was like the scientists decided, 'Well, fuck, I don't think they have enough spikes – let's add more'.
X-87 quirked a small smile at him, only one side of his mouth going up and L-68 scowled. Whatever. He was going to give it all he had either way. He wasn't going to back down just because of what X-87's transformation looked like.
L-68 dashed towards X-87, slashing straight at him. He wasn't surprised when X-87 leapt out the way but L-68 kept going, using the wall as a springboard and redirected himself at X-87. His next attack actually connected with X-87's arm and L-68 shoved-
"Fuck!" He scrambled back, yanking his arm away from the fucking tentacles that had wrapped themselves around his arm. So they weren't just decoration.
Shit. Attacking at a distance meant X-87 would see him coming, and moving in close meant he got in range of the tentacles. If he had a couple of knives on him, they would have helped, but he didn't and there no point whining about it.
And that was all the time he had to think, X-87 closing the gap between them and fuck, L-68 was just able to block but even then, X-87 had been so fucking close to breaking his guard straight away.
As soon as they made contact, X-87's tentacles grabbed his arms and L-68 snarled, twisting his wrists to slash at them.
It worked, X-87 backing up a step, letting go and L-68 lashed out again, trying to make more space for himself.
They went on like that for a few minutes, X-87 nearly overwhelming him through sheer fucking power and L-68 only just able to hold him off.
One arm. X-87 was like this with only one fucking arm transformed; it was no fucking wonder the scientists said the X-series were stronger than them.
But X-87 was tiring, his attacks a hair slower compared to earlier and L-68 spotted a gap in his attack. It would have been covered by his tentacles, but if he could force X-87 back again properly, then he could get away from the fucking wall and maybe start his own counterattack instead of def-
L-68 halted when blood splattered across the floor, surprised he'd managed to connect. Yeah, X-87 was slowing down but he hadn't expected by that much.
Thump.
L-68 stared incredulously, wondering if this was a trap because all he'd done was scratch X-87's face (and his regeneration should have started to kick in already) so what the fuck was he doing falling to his knees? Was he that unused to pain?
"L-68, stop."
He jerked back at the order and glared over his shoulder at B-01. "Why?"
She was staring at X-87, her eyebrows drawn in. "His heartrate is currently 260 over 170."
L-68 blinked, lowering his hands. That was not normal.
"I'll be fine in a minute," X-87 wheezed, his arm reverting back to normal with a hiss.
"…You sound like you can't even breathe," L-68 said, gazing at him. He reverted his own arms back, scratching them when they done. This was the powerful X-series?
"I – I can."
"X-87."
X-87 lifted his head to look at B-01. L-68 could see the sheen of sweat on his brow amongst the blood – the sweat was too much to have come from just the spar and he looked paler than before.
X-87 fucking smiled at her. "Heh," he said, his chest heaving. "My body's pretty unstable; I can't hold my transformation for long before I get tired."
"You're…kidding," he said flatly, looking X-87 over. He had pretty much been getting his ass kicked by someone whose blood hadn't stabilised. …So how strong did that make the others?
"Nope." X-87 held his relaxed smile, but his tensed shoulders were easy to see and so were his clenched fists on his knees.
Well, fuck. With the re-evaluations, they could be shit out of luck, but it wasn't like that was anything new when you were owned by the Union.
L-68 crossed his arms, sighing. "Fine," he said, shrugging.
"Eh?" X-87 blinked, his smile melting away to confusion. "You're not mad?"
He glanced at him and then looked away, rubbing a spot where X-87 had left a bruise. "You can fight." That was what mattered, and once his blood settled… It would be interesting to see what X-87 could do then.
"Ah, you're good too," X-87 said as he hefted himself to his feet. The smile on X-87's face was smaller than the one he wore before, but it seemed more real.
L-68 smirked at him.
I'm amused how Key and I know and write similar traits about Xeno that we didn't actually discuss with each other. XDDD;;; (Or did we? It's been a while, pfft.)