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

[wolfdogwitcher]

"If I'd known..." Eskel says, gaze fixed on a half-moon high above them. "If I'd known I'd have held him down for you while you ripped his guts out. I know that don't mean much now but...you didn't fucking deserve that and neither did your mom. And you shouldn't have had to go back alone." Or maybe he did. All of them had stupid shit they had to face down at some point and gods knew Eskel had no business dictating to anyone how they should handle their problems. "Man, fuck the Law of Surprise."

[pricklywolf]

"Means enough," Lambert says quietly. Then he decides to just stop giving a fuck and moves so he can lay his head on his brother's lap. "It's a shit law. Fuck whoever came up with it. I'd rather just not get paid than risk taking some kid from their family."

[wolfdogwitcher]

"It seems to go against the person needing payment more often than not." Eskel notes, scratching his facial scar. "Just once I'd like to meet somebody who got something small and fun a cask of mead or a dog or something. I mean, I got Scorpion and that was great but also..." He shrugs. He'd rather not talk about his Unexpected Child, or Geralt's.

At least Lambert wasn't cursed, just mouthy.

[pricklywolf]

Lambert raises a brow, looking up to watch his older brother. He was curious about what Eskel had been about to say, but he knows when not to pry.

"Doubt it's ever happened. Destiny doesn't play nice with us. She's a bitch. So fuck Destiny."

[wolfdogwitcher]

Eskel shakes his head.

"Fuck Destiny." He echoes. "It doesn't seem worth it. Like any mistress, it seems fun for a while but one day she's going to be the death of you." He brushes his fingers through Lambert's wet hair.

"You should get some sleep." He says. "I'll sit watch a while, I doubt my shoulder is going to let me really get comfortable for a while."

[pricklywolf]

"You keep petting me like that and I'll be out like that poor bastard I put through a table," he says, grinning up at Eskel. It's the closest he'll ever get to actually asking for what he wants. His past still weighs heavy on him, making him feel like he's still in that village watching his childhood home be devoured by flames, letting smoke curl through his lungs. But something good did come of it. He's got Eskel, who cares enough to listen instead of just writing Lambert off as an explosive force to keep at arm's length.

His eyes close and he finally drifts off. Tomorrow, he'll likely act as if nothing happened, but he doubts Eskel would dare make him talk about it again.

[wolfdogwitcher]

He feels his brother drop off to sleep, his breathing slows and his heart slowing to imperceptibility by human senses. He lets his bad arm rest around the younger witcher's shoulders: it's not doing much else, it might as well bring Lambert some comfort. His other hand supports him, not far from his swords. Alone with his thoughts, whatever they might be, the older witcher allows his brother to get a night of real sleep. They were so few and far between, for men like them.

[pricklywolf]

Lambert gets a couple of hours of decent sleep. Despite the comfort Eskel provided, however, his recently dredged-up memories bring with them nightmares. Flickering flames, his mother's screams, his father's slurred insults and hurled fists. The broken cry of a young boy that is powerless to stop any of it. It gives way to more cries, other boys surrounding him as they're tortured. It's still his father's voice, now telling him how he'll never be good enough, how he deserves to suffer.

That all shrinks to a singular feeling: a noose tight around his neck.

He wakes up struggling, clawing at what is actually an arm thrown over his shoulders.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Shit--!" The struggle shakes him out of a semi-meditative state. Thankfully, his arm (mostly) responds properly, jerking free of Lambert's grasp. "Lambert! Hey, wake up. You're fine, it's fine!" He gives the other witcher a rough shake.

[pricklywolf]

The rough shake is enough to wake him up. His eyes fly open as he sits up abruptly, and it takes him a moment of staring at his surroundings to register that he is not, in fact, dead. "Sorry. 'M sorry," he murmurs as he finally relaxes.

He's used to nightmares. He's pretty sure they all are.

[wolfdogwitcher]

Narrowly avoiding getting his nose broken on Lambert's forehead, he gives the other witcher his space. It troubles him, the way his brother had clawed at his throat. But he gives the man a little space to breathe. And he feels it would spare both their dignities if he does so.

[pricklywolf]

Lambert is glad for the space. He rests his elbows on his knees and relaxes like that, staring at the blanket covering him. He doesn't want to seem weak, though, so he attempts a joke.

"Next time you want a hug, go hug your horse."

[wolfdogwitcher]

And Eskel indulges the joke, ruffling Lambert's hair as if the other man were the small and angry boy he had once been. And with his previously unresponsive hand at that.

"Can't, Scorpion's not a hugger." He says flatly. "You needed to wake up anyway, lazybones." Light, easy, back and forth, affectionate insults. Of course, the witchers were not unaccustomed to one another's nightmares. The hideously empty dormitories of Kaer Morhen often rang at night with the howls of boys in fear or pain. No one likes to talk about how often they wake up the same way as adults.

"Come on, get off me and I see if I can scrape together some breakfast."

[pricklywolf]

He tries to duck out from under the older witcher's hand, simultaneously scooting further down his bedroll. Nightmares were normal, but Lambert did his best to try and seem unaffected, even if he never got rid of the childhood urge to run to an older boy, or even Vesemir when they were particularly horrific.

"Then wake me up before hugging me next time, wiseass." He turns to watch Eskel, mostly to make sure the other man is at least okay. "I see you're using that lame arm already. Want me to check the wound after we eat?"

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Might have you re-wrap it so it doesn't keep scraping up against my armor." He says, shrugging. "Mostly alright, fingers still feel like they're full of bees. But getting better. Another night of rest and I'll be punching peasants with the best of them." He says, flexing his fingers as he extricates himself from the other witcher. "I bet I could find some duck eggs for breakfast." He declares. As much for something to break up the monotony of dried meat and fruit as to give Lambert a moment alone to collect himself.

"Be right back." And with that, the wolf set off amongst the cat-tails and mossy rocks near the edge of the pond.

[pricklywolf]

"You don't come back with duck eggs, I'll leave you here!" he calls after his brother. It's an empty threat. He's not leaving Eskel until he can be sure that hand is fully functional.

As soon as Eskel's out of sight, Lambert scrubs his hands over his face, like it'll erase the nightmare from his mind. He should've listened to their mentor. Vesemir had warned him it would serve no purpose, that Lambert's mother wouldn't recognize him, or worse, would be horrified to see what he'd become. If she was alive at all. It's a good thing the oldest wolf wasn't the I-told-you-so type when it came to certain matters.

He stands and stretches, turning his mind to the task of simply getting dressed. His trousers are dry, and both their boots. Which is lucky, because the morning feels a bit chilly.

[wolfdogwitcher]

Hand works enough to cast the complex sign of Axii, and soon enough Eskel is returning to the campsite, two oblivious ducks now relieved of their clutches. There's some rummaging around in saddlebags for a small cast iron pan and whatever dry rations they can scrape up between them.

He does not ask about the dream but he does watch Lambert out of the corner of his eye, carefully. He knows the other witcher will just walk it off, they all do, but with Lambert's precarious mood last night he keeps an eye on him.

[pricklywolf]

By the time Eskel returns, Lambert has dressed and tidied up the camp as best as he could. His own dry rations are set out and he's going through his stock of potions and ingredients. The watchful eye does get a bit annoying, after a bit.

"What? You go and fall in love with me overnight?" He grins at the other witcher, already working to bury everything as quick as he can under a thick layer of snark and sarcasm. "You know those peasants just wanted to rile us up, right?"

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Fuck off, just worried that stool cracked your skull. But since you're back to being an asshole, I know I can rest easy." Eskel snorted, kneeling to throw together something that might resemble breakfast.

[pricklywolf]

"Fuck off yourself! Pretty sure that between the two of us, you're the one who got his ass kicked by a couple of farmers. Man, I can't wait to tell Geralt!" He repacks the potions, but keeps a small assortment of ingredients out, deciding it's best to keep his hands busy. "Need anything restocked?"

[wolfdogwitcher]

"I'm out Cat, Rook and Swallow." Eskel says. "If you've got the components to spare." Hmmm. Dried fish and eggs it is, with cheese. He tries not to think about the real food they could have had last night, as his shoulder twinges.

"Oh, I got my ass kicked? Which one of us wound up on the floor twice?" He says, with one of his barking laughs.

[pricklywolf]

He sets to work on the potions, laughing at Eskel's response. "Oh, I'm sorry, didn't know falling down was worse than being stabbed by a piece of cutlery! Thank you, oh brave and chivalrous knight, for saving me from a life of sawdust-covered trousers! However shall I repay you?"

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Shut up." Eskel snorts. "Do you want breakfast or not? Because if you keep mouthing off I'll eat it all myself and you can spend the morning listening to your guts growl and groan."

[pricklywolf]

"Ooh, touchy subject?" He knows damn well it can be a touchy subject. They just had a heart-to-heart about it last night. So he doesn't say anymore, focusing on brewing up what his brother needs.