Go For The Hearts, You've Got The Diamonds., Stanfield

[Voltus Severus]

He stood there. Stanfield just stood. He didn't get it. Oh, and he was smiling too. Voltus felt mocked beyond belief. His sleight of hand had given him a chance to strike Stan's back, but not much damage was done. His arms felt like jelly, as they sat by his sides. It was getting harder to maintain these forms; it really took a lot of energy. This Exorcist shit was hard work. He had already mastered the Spade Forme, and the Diamond was taking too much energy from him, so he contemplated switching.

"Cheeky. So do you ever make a move?" Putting emphasis on the word ever, he wanted it to drive home. It was a bit prudent in his mind, to allow only the opponent to make moves. Although it was an intelligent fighting style, there was no fun. He wanted to at least exchange words out loud, so he had more time to think about what to do with his overworked hands. Blood was still running freely, still coating the Claws. It seems like the blood flow had lessened, but gravity had pulled more from his veins and down the Innocence weapons.

This was stupid. He had been just standing here. Voltus was just standing there. It really was troublesome, but he was the one who asked for a good sparring partner, so he really couldn't complain about the other person's tactics. That just wouldn't be right.

He sighed, and began to walk at a normal pace towards his partner. "Spade Forme." As he uttered the words, his hands stopped hurting, and a massaging sensation took over them, as they slid through the Daimonde Forme to the Spade Forme. The Claws seemed to mold together and form two sharp points, foot long knives, or short swords to whoever would view it. But they weren't just knives or short swords to him. His blood ran through them. Innocence pulsed and pounded in them. They were living death machines. And they were his.

He was still walking towards Stan, blood now slowly trickling down the single blades. Nearing his opponent, he raised his hands; or rather, his blades.

" Come on then."

[Stanfield]

Stanfield did not move even a muscle to Voltus' challenging words, as if he never heard them, and it seemed like there was no limit to the swordsman's patience, even though the blood freely flowing from where he had been injured made it appear otherwise.

The reasoning part of his mind panicked as his opponent's weapon shifted into another form which, in addition to being more matched for fighting against him, Voltus seemed to have a better control over. Stanfield had no tricks up his sleeves, and if Voltus had been hiding his trump cards up till now, then... this could be bad.

None of these weak thoughts even got close to surfacing through his expressions, though, and they were as calm and tranquil as they had been the entire fight, kept to a simple smile that was undoubtedly quite annoying by now.

While his silence and passive approaches may simply seem like a psychological aspect of his strategy to most, the truth was apparent to only Aether's wielder himself. The formless artefact had slowly cast its influence over the body of its user, shutting off functions of the body that it had deemed to be unnecessary, most notably, his silence was more of an induced muteness, and his perpetual smile was due to him no longer being able to emote in ways other than what was simply the most natural to him. In other words, it was taking over Stanfield's body, and rewiring its functions so it could be fully and most efficiently devoted to the cause of the item it was possessing.

Right now, that item happened to be a sword, and naturally, the duty of a sword was to cut one's enemy down.

A final step forward by Voltus seemed to flip the switch that broke Stanfield out of his inaction, and as he dashed towards his opponent in a straight path, he delivered two strikes, one to the right side of the neck and one to the left thigh, in such rapid successions that they almost seemed to reach their marks simultaneously.