THE FIGHT MEME

[memehound]

THE (august) FIGHT MEME



What else needs to be said? Release your inner warrior and partake in some epic (or hilariously bad) battles! Do you use a sword? Are you a martial arts master? Are you a wizard? Can you even fight?

It doesn't matter if you're just having a friendly spar or deciding the fate of the universe. You're suddenly filled with the urge to fight the next person you meet. Cut loose and show off your skills!

RULES

◘ Post with your character! List your fighting preferences if you'd like (Sparring, Death Battles, Anything Goes, etc.)
◘ Reply to someone else
◘ ROUND 1...
◘ ... FIGHT!

Here are some prompts to pick from (or RNG from):



1: VERBAL
Not all fights are physical. Maybe you're just really mad and really loud.

2: WUSSY
This is possibly the dumbest limp-wristed flail fight you've ever been involved in.

3: WITS
Because why would you beat someone into the ground when you can humiliate them with your massive intellect instead?

4: PRIZEFIGHT
There's an audience to watch and a prize at stake that only one of you can walk away with. Best bring your A-game.

5: SPARRING
You're fighting to improve. Whether you know your partner or whether you've
just met, you can be pretty sure you're walking away from this one.

6: GRUDGE MATCH
Your hated rival is in town. It's time for a rematch.

7: BAR FIGHT
Welcome to the mother of all drunken brawls.

8: YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS!
Maybe your opponent is your friend/sibling/love/other cherished person. Maybe
you're a pacifist. Either way, you're in this fight, but you really
don't want to be.

9: TO THE DEATH
This is it. Too much has happened for this to be anything but a fight to the end. Only one of you is walking away from this.

10: OBLIGATORY SMUT OPTION
Hate sex is the best. And some people like smut and some do not.

11: AGAINST THE HORDE
It's you and your ally against many. Demons, zombies, whatever. Rip and tear, until it is done.

12: GODMODE
You and your opponent both have world-breaking superpowers, and frankly everyone would be happier if you weren't fighting. You are, though, and it's awesome, even if there might not be much left when you're done.

13: RANDOM
Your very own personalized scenario.


Original here.

Comments

[pricklywolf]

Once he's finished, Lambert brings their things up to where the fire is, setting them close enough that they'll be dry by morning. When he sees Eskel rubbing at his shoulder, and the bedroll on the ground, he sighs. "Coulda helped you with that, too. Just 'cause you're used to doing it alone doesn't mean you shouldn't ask for help when you can."

It was a lesson he'd had to learn from Aiden.

He grabs his undershirt and pulls it back on over his head, then goes to get his own bedroll set out.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Yeah, yeah. 'A lone wolf is a dead wolf'." I promise not to tell Vesemir you've been spouting his aphorisms." Eskel teases. "Besides, you were already giving me a hand." He gestures to his shoulder. "Swallow feels like it's doing its thing. Should be mostly okay by morning."

[pricklywolf]

Lambert shoots him a look at the mention of their mentor, but he doesn't press the issue. Eskel promised.

He rolls his bedroll out close to the fire, settling his pillow on the end closest to Eskel, so that his head will be near his brother's. Maybe he's letting himself be too soft, but that feels safer.

"Still, wouldn't hurt to stick close for another day. I'd hate to leave you alone and something happen to you."

[wolfdogwitcher]

"A day or two." Eskel concedes, if nothing else than to soothe away that nervous energy he can still feel coming off of Lambert. "Just in case it takes longer than expected. If it's real bad I promise I'll go home." He doesn't want to, there's plenty of work left in the season, but if the injury is going to take more time and effort to cure, he might as well pack it in a early.

[pricklywolf]

Once his bed is settled, Lambert digs out the bottle of pepper vodka. It's only about half full. Not enough to let two witchers get properly stewed, which is for the best. He returns and sits on his bedroll, holding the bottle out for Eskel.

"That's smart. You know if you didn't return for winter, Papa Vesemir would wanna go looking for you." As would Lambert.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"It's not that bad." Eskel says, firmly. The idea of his brothers (if Geralt could be found in the midst of whatever his current entanglement was)-- and Vesemir (the old bastard might be responsible for the loss of his humanity, but he was the closest thing he had ever had to a father)-- searching the Continent for him (or his corpse) didn't sit right. "I'm gonna be fine. You sure you didn't crack your skull? You're not your usual cheerily-an-asshole self."

[pricklywolf]

"Shut up and drink, asshole. I'm just pissed off the way everything went sideways in the tavern." He shakes the bottle a little, rolling his eyes. "Should'a just let me take that inbred whoreson out, before he dragged the girl into it."

[wolfdogwitcher]

"You should have just let it go." Eskel admonishes. "The innkeep could have dealt with it. But there's nothing for it now."

[pricklywolf]

Since the other Witcher hasn't taken the vodka, Lambert opens it and takes a swig. "And let him talk shit like that? Sit back and do nothing while some poor girl gets hurt because of us?"

He knows he's not supposed to get involved, but hearing the little wench yell had brought up painful shit that he didn't want to think about.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"You can't react every time some human gets a stick up his ass! Or you'll have a damn hard time finding a bath and a bed anywhere on the Continent that's not at home." Eskel says, shaking his head. "He'd have given up or the innkeep would have intervened." He waves it off and reaches for the vodka. "Fuck it, nothing for it now."

[pricklywolf]

He's tempted to keep the bottle after that, and if it were anyone other than Eskel sitting there, he'd give them a couple of choice words and walk off. But it is Eskel, so he hands the vodka over and stays quiet for a moment. Takes a deep breath, lets himself calm down. When he does speak again, his voice is softer. "I don't, usually."

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Don't what? Pick fights with peasants?" Eskel sounds sceptical as he knocks back a mouthful of spicy vodka and hands the bottle back to his brother.

[pricklywolf]

"Well...Yeah, kinda." He takes the bottle back and drinks, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Don't get me wrong, I still talk back or mouth off, but...I was gonna let that one go, too."

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Don't tell me it was because I was there..." Eskel said, with a barking laugh. "The bravado is cute Lambert, but we could have gotten into an even bigger mess than we just did."

[pricklywolf]

"Fuck off." There's no heat to it, though. He hands the bottle back to Eskel, then turns his attention to the fire, so he won't have to see the way his brother reacts when he speaks again.

"He grabbed the girl, she screamed, he wouldn't let go of her. The bartender was too slow, if he was actually gonna do something about it at all. Back before, my dad--Fuck, I shouldn't have to explain myself to you!"

[wolfdogwitcher]

The creases in Eskel's ruined face deepen. He allows a long silence, and the two wolves stare into the fire.

"Lambert..." He says, carefully. It's always been a little weird, the fact that Lambert had memories of his life before they had become siblings. "You're right, you shouldn't have to explain yourself. But you can't...you can't just hang on to that stuff. From...before. Not if it affects you like that."

[pricklywolf]

"Horseshit," he spits, then turns to glare at the older witcher. "Do you even remember what your mom looked like? Or what she sounded like? 'Cause I do. And I can't just let go of it."

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Looks like? No. Sounds like? Maybe. I don't know if I was too young or if I lost those memories in the Changes. But I know I might as well be nobody's son, for all that I remember. I'm sorry that you have to remember what came before." He looks away from Lambert, back into the fire. "Especially if it makes shit this hard for you, sometimes."

[pricklywolf]

Lambert looks back to the fire as well, once again letting the conversation fall silent for a bit.

"Wish Vesemir would just...get it. I know I'm a pain in the ass, but maybe we'd get along better if he understood. Probably too old." He grabs the vodka bottle and knocks back another shot, savoring the slight burn as it goes down. "Sorry I fucked things up."

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Nothing for for it now. And I figure having to bandage me up, eat trail rations and sleep outside in your skivvies is probably punishment enough." Eskel says, shrugging. "Try to get some sleep, okay?"

[pricklywolf]

"Yeah...Okay." He lays down, setting the bottle between them before pulling his blanket up to his chin. He doesn't try very hard to fall asleep, though. He just lays awake, eventually turning over to just stare up at the sky.

[wolfdogwitcher]

Eskel sets his swords within easy reach of his good hand and settles on his side. The way Lambert's arranged their bedding, he can easily see his brother shuffling around and staring at the sky. He's a little bit worried. It's been a while since he's seen Lambert and to find his brother so troubled chafes at some part of Eskel's buried humanity. But he has no idea what to say, so he'll just watch over him for now.

[pricklywolf]

He can feel Eskel watching him. And it really is just the two of them. Maybe he can drop his guard, just for the night, so Eskel won't keep fussing over him. He's been a big enough hassle this night.

"I tried to find her. Made Vesemir tell me where he'd picked me up from, just before the passes cleared in spring."

[wolfdogwitcher]

He's surprised that Vesemir had allowed such a thing, but perhaps he thought Lambert needed to learn something, that he would stop asking once he understood what a painful and fruitless endeavor it was likely to be. What it most likely was, in the end.

"And?" He prompts, quietly.

[pricklywolf]

He sighs, still unsure if he wants to speak it out loud. He started this, though. "I saw the shitty little shack we lived in. It was falling apart, abandoned. So I tied my horse to a tree nearby and went into the little town, asked around for the lady who'd lived there." It's still a very raw wound, but he isn't sure he feels anything other than anger. "They're both dead. Have been for years. They didn't know what happened, but she died before he did."