Remus Arkos
After the battle had ended, Remus would soon just be laying in bed under an unconscious state. Where he does not get any healing whatsoever, but just lays there as his chest continues to bleed bit by bit. Seeping through the clothing he wore, it had made the shirt a very distinct color of a darker shade of red with a small hint of orange, the color of a Djinn's blood. Underneath the clothing was just a long slash that the shield had made on him, having been thrown with such great strength after all. If it wasn't him that was hit by this, anyone else had probably soon just died soon afterwards because of blood loss.
But it had been him that was hit, so that was a great thing. He'd always been muscular and tough on the outside after all, with those glistening abs of his with sweat and blood covered over them, glorious as it basked under the shine of the great sun above. Remus had always been a tough nut to crack. Even among his family, he'd always been very tough to actually make cry from sheer pain. Having cut himself sometimes while practicing his ways with his blade before all because he just didn't pay much attention to what he was doing, he'd never really complained about it much. Insisting it was fine, because it was.
It didn't bother him much, the pain. Because to be an Arkos, you've got to be very tough. Tough to go through with some of the harsh training that bearing the name and tradition brought. You see, the Arkos Family are a group of strange swordsman who don't follow the traditional ways of learning swordsmanship. Instead, they went for their own approach to things. They've been given the glorious ability to manipulate, generate and shape to their liking after all, an element that had been so very abundant around the world. In fact, air could be found everywhere so they always had an advantage.
Even underwater, as they could just generated it themselves. The style of swordsmanship the Arkos Family taught was called the Tempest Blade Arts by it's old creators, but to other Djinn who knew of them, they'd called it the Arkos Sword Style. It focused on honing their ability to manipulate air alongside the skill of swordsmanship, and both worked very well together. A user of this style usually coated their blades with air when fighting, but even without it they were a very formidable family. If there was one thing others knew about them, it was their high speed.
Most of the members were extremely fast on their feet, even more so when they used their air manipulation, like Remus had demonstrated in the battle before. And their skill in pure swordsmanship had been nothing to joke about either. In short, the family was just extremely good at what they did. But alas, even a family as great as this one got lost and eventually became non-existent. To the outside world at least, Djinn still knew about them. Nowadays, the Arkos family are just a family of really, really, really great swordsman and are considered very important people.
Remus had awoken just a little bit, by the feeling of touch that a person had brought him. Something that appeared to touch against the bare skin around the area of the wound. The short awakening was met with him closing his eyes and drifting into unconsciousness again, where he'd only caught a glimpse of the same red-headed girl he'd fought earlier. Wright, the person who'd beat him earlier today in a battle. And what a battle it was, he only wished that it dragged on longer because a fight like that was something he'd never truly experienced.
He couldn't even remember the last time he actually lost one. But information like that was a bit useless, to be honest. Right now, his health was something that was much more important and needed attention. A strike like that wouldn't be able to heal easily at all, and there was also the purple bruise that came with the first punch she landed on his gut. The one that caused him to cough up some blood. What a punch that was, strong and powerful. Hit him right at the stomach and almost caused him to vomit in fact, but instead just made him cough blood.
Later on, Remus would eventually come back to the real world. Fluttering his eyes open, with the first thing that he sees being the ceiling and him taking notice that he'd been stripped off his shirt. And thankfully, that was the only bit of clothing he'd been stripped off. He hadn't exactly sat up, but just laid on the bed and moved his head slightly to take glances and such. And he noticed another person in the room, right in the corner. Bright red hair and red eyes, the very same person who'd been his opponent just a few moments ago and the one who'd apparently helped him heal a bit.
"What... might you be doing here, Red? Come to check on me or something along the lines of that?" His first words from awakening, a simple question that anyone could answer. Remus just continued to stare at her, stare at his opponent. Who would've thought that a girl like her would be the one wearing the armor and had such a deep voice? In truth, it actually reminded him of one and only little sister for some reason. A bit cute, he'd admit, but a strong person.
Chachalotte
After the battle had ended, Remus would soon just be laying in bed under an unconscious state. Where he does not get any healing whatsoever, but just lays there as his chest continues to bleed bit by bit. Seeping through the clothing he wore, it had made the shirt a very distinct color of a darker shade of red with a small hint of orange, the color of a Djinn's blood. Underneath the clothing was just a long slash that the shield had made on him, having been thrown with such great strength after all. If it wasn't him that was hit by this, anyone else had probably soon just died soon afterwards because of blood loss.
But it had been him that was hit, so that was a great thing. He'd always been muscular and tough on the outside after all, with those glistening abs of his with sweat and blood covered over them, glorious as it basked under the shine of the great sun above. Remus had always been a tough nut to crack. Even among his family, he'd always been very tough to actually make cry from sheer pain. Having cut himself sometimes while practicing his ways with his blade before all because he just didn't pay much attention to what he was doing, he'd never really complained about it much. Insisting it was fine, because it was.
It didn't bother him much, the pain. Because to be an Arkos, you've got to be very tough. Tough to go through with some of the harsh training that bearing the name and tradition brought. You see, the Arkos Family are a group of strange swordsman who don't follow the traditional ways of learning swordsmanship. Instead, they went for their own approach to things. They've been given the glorious ability to manipulate, generate and shape to their liking after all, an element that had been so very abundant around the world. In fact, air could be found everywhere so they always had an advantage.
Even underwater, as they could just generated it themselves. The style of swordsmanship the Arkos Family taught was called the Tempest Blade Arts by it's old creators, but to other Djinn who knew of them, they'd called it the Arkos Sword Style. It focused on honing their ability to manipulate air alongside the skill of swordsmanship, and both worked very well together. A user of this style usually coated their blades with air when fighting, but even without it they were a very formidable family. If there was one thing others knew about them, it was their high speed.
Most of the members were extremely fast on their feet, even more so when they used their air manipulation, like Remus had demonstrated in the battle before. And their skill in pure swordsmanship had been nothing to joke about either. In short, the family was just extremely good at what they did. But alas, even a family as great as this one got lost and eventually became non-existent. To the outside world at least, Djinn still knew about them. Nowadays, the Arkos family are just a family of really, really, really great swordsman and are considered very important people.
Remus had awoken just a little bit, by the feeling of touch that a person had brought him. Something that appeared to touch against the bare skin around the area of the wound. The short awakening was met with him closing his eyes and drifting into unconsciousness again, where he'd only caught a glimpse of the same red-headed girl he'd fought earlier. Wright, the person who'd beat him earlier today in a battle. And what a battle it was, he only wished that it dragged on longer because a fight like that was something he'd never truly experienced.
He couldn't even remember the last time he actually lost one. But information like that was a bit useless, to be honest. Right now, his health was something that was much more important and needed attention. A strike like that wouldn't be able to heal easily at all, and there was also the purple bruise that came with the first punch she landed on his gut. The one that caused him to cough up some blood. What a punch that was, strong and powerful. Hit him right at the stomach and almost caused him to vomit in fact, but instead just made him cough blood.
Later on, Remus would eventually come back to the real world. Fluttering his eyes open, with the first thing that he sees being the ceiling and him taking notice that he'd been stripped off his shirt. And thankfully, that was the only bit of clothing he'd been stripped off. He hadn't exactly sat up, but just laid on the bed and moved his head slightly to take glances and such. And he noticed another person in the room, right in the corner. Bright red hair and red eyes, the very same person who'd been his opponent just a few moments ago and the one who'd apparently helped him heal a bit.
"What... might you be doing here, Red? Come to check on me or something along the lines of that?" His first words from awakening, a simple question that anyone could answer. Remus just continued to stare at her, stare at his opponent. Who would've thought that a girl like her would be the one wearing the armor and had such a deep voice? In truth, it actually reminded him of one and only little sister for some reason. A bit cute, he'd admit, but a strong person.
Chachalotte
