wewx2>>5196177You spin the length of your rifle along your arm as you direct your stock forward. You heft it back, and with a great heave, plunge the blunt end forward–where you catch the twirling bat dead on. The bat gasps as she’s flung downward along the path of your buttstroke, crashing to the ground with her black rapier.
“Ghh–” Lady Ava chokes, winded. You watch as the bat’s wings curl upward into a human form, gasping for breath and clawing at her chest. Her ears collapse and curl into silvery locks, her fur ruff into a loose poet shirt. As her breath catches, she slowly raises her head to come face-to-face with the end of your rifle.
“You’ve lost, dhampir.” You don’t bother attempting to mask the pride in your voice. “I expect you to uphold your end of the deal.”
“..What an ugly way of fighting.” She says, her voice low. “It befits someone of your countenance.”
“Oh? A sore loser is an ugly look.” You smirk.
>Help the dhampir up. The duel is over.>Allow her up herself. It doesn’t befit you to lay hands a monster.>Shoot her once for good measure. You don’t know what tricks she may pull.>Write-In. 