"Say it right," he chastised over the comms. "It's bow chicka bow fuck."

Not that last part, never that last part, but Felix was there, looked like what all his nightmares ever promised, and then knifeknifeknife. The sword came to life in his hand, casting a soft blue glow as he side-stepped to the left and back, trying to evade the damn thing as best he could. Maybe he would have better luck than previous encounters.

The hate, the fear reached a cold hand into his chest, squeezing and clawing at the inside of his ribs as he tried to laugh it off like this whole thing was nothing. Easy. That's what he had to keep telling himself, it was easy, Felix was easy. Feet dug into the ground as he attempt to push off as best he could, but fuck this blood, fuck this place, fuck all this for dragging them into this. For the moment, he was stuck defensive, hoping just to not get stabbed. Again.

"Really, cockcheese?" he growled. "Didn't we already do this, and I won? Do I really have to kill you again?"