[ It is quite arbitrary, the pretext of honor dictating this duel. But it's this same honor that just might be saving Nightwing's life, as the quick and easy kill well within Deathstroke's abilities simply didn't happen. Dick and Hana could be dead already, but neither of them should take this as an extension of Slade's mercy. Dick knows him all too well, understands that Slade's just priming his prey for a more satisfying kill. Dick laughs, then, as he steadily rises to stand upright, sword in hand. ]
This isn't the first time you've tried this, Slade.
It's probably mortifying to you that I'm still alive-- alive for you to even attempt this.
[ Oh, it won't be much of an attempt this time.
Slade readies his own blade and charges at Nightwing, who can't respond quick enough to his opponent's enhanced movements. Blades clash as Nightwing barely manages a block, stepping off Slade's centerline to attempt a counter with a redondo strike-- slashing Deathstroke's chestplate in a vertical circular motion. But as Nightwing's blade descends after the apex of the slash, Deathstroke steps in to seize the wrist of Nightwing's sword arm with his free hand, which pulls his arm taut. In that same instant, Deathstroke presses his forearm - belonging to his own sword arm - against Nightwing's tricep, compelling him to bend down sideways. But then Deathstroke commits, shoving Nightwing down facefirst into the sand, letting the impact do the work of disarming him.
Because upon falling, Nightwing does let go of his sword. And Deathstroke still maintains control of Nightwing's wrist and tricep, taking the opportunity to shift their momentum so he can swing his legs over Nightwing's chest. Deathstroke keeps his opponent's arm taut between his legs as the two men both land on their backs. It's while he remains locked in this armbar that Nightwing grits his teeth, looking around to search for D.Va in the vicinity.
Upon finding her, he shoots her an imploring look. ]
Whatever you can do, D.Va, do it.
I've distracted him long enough!
[ Distracted, you say? Don't insult me, Grayson.
Deathstroke stretches his body on the sand, pulling Nightwing's arm - already locked straight - with it.
I'm going to dislocate your shoulder, now. And after I dislocate your other one just for the hell of it, I'm snapping your neck. Deal? ]
I don't know, Slade. Gonna need more time to think about it.
Is it okay if I follow up by email?
[ Against the might of Deathstroke's technique, here, Nightwing resists. Actively he fights the pull of Deathstroke's body, which stretches in the hopes of dislocating said shoulder. Nightwing's free hand fumbles for something he can use against Deathstroke all the while... but it's only a matter of seconds before his arm will give and Deathstroke will take its mobility from him.
Before that can happen, and with Deathstroke distracted by the prospect of victory, what follows is D.Va's call. ]
no subject
This isn't the first time you've tried this, Slade.
It's probably mortifying to you that I'm still alive-- alive for you to even attempt this.
[ Oh, it won't be much of an attempt this time.
Slade readies his own blade and charges at Nightwing, who can't respond quick enough to his opponent's enhanced movements. Blades clash as Nightwing barely manages a block, stepping off Slade's centerline to attempt a counter with a redondo strike-- slashing Deathstroke's chestplate in a vertical circular motion. But as Nightwing's blade descends after the apex of the slash, Deathstroke steps in to seize the wrist of Nightwing's sword arm with his free hand, which pulls his arm taut. In that same instant, Deathstroke presses his forearm - belonging to his own sword arm - against Nightwing's tricep, compelling him to bend down sideways. But then Deathstroke commits, shoving Nightwing down facefirst into the sand, letting the impact do the work of disarming him.
Because upon falling, Nightwing does let go of his sword. And Deathstroke still maintains control of Nightwing's wrist and tricep, taking the opportunity to shift their momentum so he can swing his legs over Nightwing's chest. Deathstroke keeps his opponent's arm taut between his legs as the two men both land on their backs. It's while he remains locked in this armbar that Nightwing grits his teeth, looking around to search for D.Va in the vicinity.
Upon finding her, he shoots her an imploring look. ]
Whatever you can do, D.Va, do it.
I've distracted him long enough!
[ Distracted, you say? Don't insult me, Grayson.
Deathstroke stretches his body on the sand, pulling Nightwing's arm - already locked straight - with it.
I'm going to dislocate your shoulder, now. And after I dislocate your other one just for the hell of it, I'm snapping your neck. Deal? ]
I don't know, Slade. Gonna need more time to think about it.
Is it okay if I follow up by email?
[ Against the might of Deathstroke's technique, here, Nightwing resists. Actively he fights the pull of Deathstroke's body, which stretches in the hopes of dislocating said shoulder. Nightwing's free hand fumbles for something he can use against Deathstroke all the while... but it's only a matter of seconds before his arm will give and Deathstroke will take its mobility from him.
Before that can happen, and with Deathstroke distracted by the prospect of victory, what follows is D.Va's call. ]