His sleeve has the build of an acrobat-- hard muscle, well built and compact. Kovacs, stuck in Ryker's gangly sleeve, feels like some kind of long-legged ghost in comparison.
Of course, he loathes the idea of striking first. He'll be playing right into the man's hand; this Ezio guy clearly has a monstrous strength behind him. He squares up, but he's not as compact as he'd like to be, for this fight.
Fuck it.
A slide to the left, a quick movement to get his leg under a fancy chair, kicking the thing in Ezio's direction. A feint after a feint-- Kovacs is right up there, waiting for a moment of distraction to hit Ezio squarely in the gut.
The face is for chumps. In a real fight, when you're trying to send someone down, the face is purely trophy shit. Knock the wind out of someone, and the move's worth its weight in gold.
no subject
Of course, he loathes the idea of striking first. He'll be playing right into the man's hand; this Ezio guy clearly has a monstrous strength behind him. He squares up, but he's not as compact as he'd like to be, for this fight.
Fuck it.
A slide to the left, a quick movement to get his leg under a fancy chair, kicking the thing in Ezio's direction. A feint after a feint-- Kovacs is right up there, waiting for a moment of distraction to hit Ezio squarely in the gut.
The face is for chumps. In a real fight, when you're trying to send someone down, the face is purely trophy shit. Knock the wind out of someone, and the move's worth its weight in gold.