Captain holds his stance. He stares, gaze hard, calculated, sweat damp along his collarbones and knuckles an angry white. The crowd watches awed. Eden versus Levi in a spar for the ages.... Who will win? the tension coos. (Electric. The room sings electric.)
Two forces of nature, mythic, feared by the mightiest – they face each other now. Even a friendly spar seems charged. Levi maintains his stance, planted, his arms raised. And Eden prowls; feet pad the ground, she flashes claws as she opens and flexes her hands – and she closes them again. Her eyes study him, scanning every move of the muscle, every rise and fall of his chest. She knows he's studying her too. Calculating, predicting. The two read each other, and by this point have memorized each other – but that makes things all the more interesting, now doesn't it? The Captain and his second-in-command; they know each other by heart, which means they know how unpredictable the other can be.
The crowd that has formed around them murmurs. Recruits place their bets, vets mumble amongst themselves. Even they are intrigued.
❛ You're just gonna stand there? ❜ Eden calls out, fists raised. Is that a smirk behind those hands of hers? Those nicked, calloused hands. She's finding a thrill in this – a real challenge. ❛ Making me do all the work, as always. ❜
Playful taunt – and then... she's swift. Light on her feet, yet moving with purpose; every step is calculated, well-placed. She's at a distance, which means she's at the disadvantage. But she'll swing, duck at the last moment, aim low. She'll brace herself, dodge those knees of his that he will no doubt utilize.
It's a dance between them – one so dangerous, yet exhilarating. The Captain, humanity's strongest soldier... and perhaps one of the only people that could make him sweat a little.
