( it's the difference between truly being an apex predator, and simply acting like one so nothing gets close enough to hurt, then. a type a personality and fierce drive to win can't truly compete against heightened senses and superior muscle percentage, but clarke does her best to put up a good fight. they're separated by the entire air hockey table, it's impossible to reach over and ruffle his feathers. so, instead she's just stuck in a loop of hitting the puck as hard as she can, being blocked, and subsequently scored on at lightening speed.
this continues for at least two whole games, clarke stubbornly insisting let's go again despite natsuno just continuing to rack up points.
then somewhere halfway through their third game, she catches on. just stares at him and lets the puck sail past her hand into her goal once more. stares, then squints, and almost asks if he's doing what she thinks he's doing. because that's rude. anyone can reach over and kick a fake motorcycle, not anyone could pull from a well of untapped supernatural skill to flex over an arcade game.
but then — no. nope. didn't need to call him out yet. and next time she goes to serve afresh, clarke absolutely digs her upper teeth into the scabbed over split in her lower lip from earlier. reawakening the wound, causing a fresh wave of black blood to bubble between lacerated, painfully stretching sensitive skin.
...admittedly, it's a tiny bit of a test. mostly a low blow, underhanded attempt to cause a distraction. but they'd never sat down and discussed what being a shiki meant in terms of abilities, and clarke wants to see how much of a stir a few drops of blood can cause.
and she really wants to score at least one goal! )
no subject
this continues for at least two whole games, clarke stubbornly insisting let's go again despite natsuno just continuing to rack up points.
then somewhere halfway through their third game, she catches on. just stares at him and lets the puck sail past her hand into her goal once more. stares, then squints, and almost asks if he's doing what she thinks he's doing. because that's rude. anyone can reach over and kick a fake motorcycle, not anyone could pull from a well of untapped supernatural skill to flex over an arcade game.
but then — no. nope. didn't need to call him out yet. and next time she goes to serve afresh, clarke absolutely digs her upper teeth into the scabbed over split in her lower lip from earlier. reawakening the wound, causing a fresh wave of black blood to bubble between lacerated, painfully stretching sensitive skin.
...admittedly, it's a tiny bit of a test. mostly a low blow, underhanded attempt to cause a distraction. but they'd never sat down and discussed what being a shiki meant in terms of abilities, and clarke wants to see how much of a stir a few drops of blood can cause.
and she really wants to score at least one goal! )