[i]One does not simply parry Irina - especially while she's spinning about like some sort of bloody ballerina.[/i] [i]Predicting said parry, Irina cackled - as both blade's blood transitioned from solid to liquid, still bound to steel like dark scarlet whips. If Mortar had simply stayed back, he would've dodged them - and Y'know, didn't go for the parry.[/i] [i]The bent liquid immediately sliced through Mortar's arm, bone and flesh cut in half as his forearm fell upon the blood-soaked earth. Irina merely laughed, withdrawing the swords as the whip-like blood collected around the steel once more. She began circling Mortar, eyeing him and his next move.[/i] "Is [i]this[/i] how a god intended for combat fights? Ha. Aha! This'll make for a fine tale indeed.."