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It was a peaceful, sunny day. Soft, puffy white clouds flowed across the baby blue sky, creating the perfect weather. The air was pleasant — not too hot and not too cold — but it was certainly full of loud sword clashes, either against one another or whenever they struck a piece of armor.
The culprits of said sounds were none other than Jude and Sharp, going at it again in a sparring session. The reason for this one was nothing out of the ordinary. Both of them were just like that, waking up on a random beautiful day only to decide it was the best time to ragebait the other. This time around, it was Jude’s moment to shine.
From the break of dawn, he couldn't help but follow every step Sharp made, acting like a devil on his shoulder, reminding him of every single time he had successfully trapped the other, how many tricks he had made Sharp fall for, and, most importantly, how such a good PvP’er couldn't even win against a basic stalagmite trap.
That’s how they ended up here, over the arena, doing nothing more than a simple duel on basic survival settings to unload their energy.
It was all going great. Sharp won several times without so much as a sweat on his forehead, pushing the other down to the ground with an iron sword just swiftly enough to cause him a respawn.
All good things must come to an end, though, and who would Jude be if not a madman for stupid ideas? After all, you can't call yourself a great trapper if you aren't just a bit crazy.
It took only two wins on Jude’s count for his confidence to grow. Neither of them was caused by the rabbit hybrid overpowering his opponent, but rather thanks to embarrassing tricks and stunts meant to distract and lead Sharp into making stupid mistakes.
With one swift move and a few commands, both of their equipment turned from steel to diamond. Their hearts were no longer the easy-to-recover red ones, but instead the far more threatening-looking hardcore ones.
From now on, they no longer strived to deal damage, but rather to make the other fall to the ground as quickly as possible. It was all about speed and trickery — something Jude was particularly good at.
“Two wins was all it took for you to up the stakes? Interesting,” was all Sharp said as he felt the heart tattoos over his right wrist pulse with newfound energy.
“Stop yapping and let me get another win.”
Jude laughed out loud, his posture and gaze drenched in confidence he was about to lose.
“You are aware that you can get seriously hurt, right? Just ’cause you win twice with stupid tricks doesn't mean I’m gonna go easy on you. Hardcore or survival.”
“Well, tricks are like the number one thing in my book, and we're no longer striking for damage. I think I will be fine.”
They were both quick to figure out just how bad of an idea that was — and just how not fine Jude came out of it.
One wrongly placed desk block by Jude and one wrong step from Sharp led to the downfall of their playful rivalry. As much as Sharp wanted to wipe that smirk from beneath the other’s mask, he didn't actually want to cause any serious scars. Sadly for him, as his leg slipped, his diamond sword cut a smooth, straight line across Jude’s left mid-arm that had come up to block the unexpected strike.
—
It wasn't long after the damage was done before Jude was sitting on a small bench near the arena walls, a glass bottle of instant heal in his good hand and Sharp kneeling in front of him, needle in hand, slowly fixing up his mistake.
“Ouch! Can you be any more un-careful than this?” Jude whined as his eyes squeezed shut from the small dose of pain the new break in the skin caused.
“Well, I’m sorry that getting stitches isn't the most pleasant experience out there, bunny.”
At that, Jude’s ears pressed just a bit closer to his skull as his left foot made a quiet stomp onto the grass, yet nothing more than a small groan left his mouth.
“Don't be mad now! It was your idea to fight on hardcore with diamonds of all things. This wouldn't have happened if we’d just stuck to the previous rules!”
As he said this, Sharp's eyes never left the damaged area his sword had caused, keeping full focus on the task before him.
Hearing that, Jude’s ears perked up in the most shocked way.
“Oh, you are not blaming this all on me! If it wasn't for your clumsy fucking feet tripping over the planks, my arm wouldn't be a beaten-up mess!”
As the words left his mouth, Jude could feel the effects of the instant heal finally kicking in. The wound slowly but surely began patching itself up along the line of stitches Sharp had just made. It itched like crazy, but it was certainly better than the pain it had previously caused.
Making the final stab through the skin and a simple surgeon’s stitch at the end, Sharp could only snicker at the accusatory tone the other gave him.
“Okay, alright. So I guess it was fully my fault that Mister ‘Best Trapper in the World’s’ stupid trap and idea failed so badly that he got hurt.”
Jude could hear the hint of mockery running through Sharp's words. He was about to say something about dropping the attitude when he was swiftly cut off by the other.
“The instant heal might have stopped the bleeding, but I still need to wrap that, and I don't have any bandages on me.”
With that — without skipping a beat — Sharp got up from where he was kneeling in front of Jude’s arm, the braids in his blond hair slowly coming apart from all the running as well as the friction from taking his helmet off. Then, as if it were completely normal, Sharp's gloved fingers cupped Jude’s cheeks, tilting his head forward just enough to land a small kiss right at the top of his head, almost perfectly between his ears.
“There. I kissed that stupid head of yours better. Now stay here and don't crumble away while I go find an E-chest.”
Jude’s brain crashed in the span of a second. If one could get a bluescreen over their own eyes, Jude certainly would have one right now. His long ears waved up and down as if trying to find a position that fit his current feelings. He wanted to keep them down because of the mix of emotions, but at the same time keep them up to catch the sound of boots walking away.
Boots walking away…
Oh, that son of a bitch.
Sharp knew what he just did — Jude was sure of that. Sharp might be a stupid human who fell for one too many of his traps, but he was definitely not stupid in this department. They’d spent one too many times arguing about the difference between bunny hybrids and rabbit ones after Sharp kept insisting that Jude was nothing more than a “honey bunny” just to enrage him.
Jude knew that Sharp knew all about different instinctive reactions — foot thumps, ears standing up or flattening, even something as stupid as his tail lying long and flat over his ass when he was comfortable and curling up during a fight. Sharp knew all that, and yet he still did something that, for anybody else, might have just been embarrassing — but for Jude, it was doubly so.
“You son of a bitch,” was all Jude said as he watched Sharp walking farther away from the arena, still close enough to hear him but far enough not to be an easy target. As soon as he heard Jude speak up, his walk sped up, his quiet giggle still audible even with the distance.
“YOU'RE A DEAD MAN WALKING, SHARP!! I WILL RIP YOUR BATTERIES OUT ONCE YOU GET BACK HERE!!”
The threat lingered in the air as Jude angrily stomped his foot into the grass. Even with his anger, he stayed seated in the same spot, visibly furious — but if his right hand grazed over the top of his head as he waited for the other to return, and if the quiet chatter of his teeth beneath his mask resembled a purr that filled the air around him… that was only for Jude to know.