[ the first thing is, heine was right—ichigo knows how to handle himself in a fight. it's clear from jump, literally, in the way he brings his arms up to defend his core, how his body shifts into and away from heine's offensive. it's a challenge to even get a punch to land, with ichigo moving as quickly as he does, except the ones that ichigo allows to make for a better stance or a cleaner angle.
this isn't how heine's fights normally go. back home they're over before they begin, even when firearms are involved—the number of people living who could best heine in a fair fight can be counted on one hand. so this, the feeling of—of being more evenly matched, sensing that same strength and same restraint in the way ichigo moves is... refreshing?
(a voice in the back of heine's head mutters, you're enjoying this a lot, aren't you?)
heine doesn't see the throw coming until it's too late to pull out of it, but he knows how to roll into it. he takes the cement burn to the shoulder and uses one gloved hand as a fulcrum to hoist himself out of the skid. when he lands, crouched, heine lifts his forearm to regard the scrape of road rash, then shakes it off. it'll be a few minutes while the flesh knits back together, but in the meantime, the bright burst of pain feels kind of good. ]
Oh, yeah. I'd hate to interrupt the mail delivery. [ a little wry, because heine knows there are punishments for these things, but also thinks it's stupid, because who is using the mailbox? exactly.
but in the interest of not spending the day in handcuffs, heine will make at least a nominal effort not to destroy anything else. he's having too much fun(?) right now. ]
no subject
this isn't how heine's fights normally go. back home they're over before they begin, even when firearms are involved—the number of people living who could best heine in a fair fight can be counted on one hand. so this, the feeling of—of being more evenly matched, sensing that same strength and same restraint in the way ichigo moves is... refreshing?
(a voice in the back of heine's head mutters, you're enjoying this a lot, aren't you?)
heine doesn't see the throw coming until it's too late to pull out of it, but he knows how to roll into it. he takes the cement burn to the shoulder and uses one gloved hand as a fulcrum to hoist himself out of the skid. when he lands, crouched, heine lifts his forearm to regard the scrape of road rash, then shakes it off. it'll be a few minutes while the flesh knits back together, but in the meantime, the bright burst of pain feels kind of good. ]
Oh, yeah. I'd hate to interrupt the mail delivery. [ a little wry, because heine knows there are punishments for these things, but also thinks it's stupid, because who is using the mailbox? exactly.
but in the interest of not spending the day in handcuffs, heine will make at least a nominal effort not to destroy anything else. he's having too much fun(?) right now. ]
You're good.