A fight for my beloved, Q

I ride atop my mythril laden puma, blazing across frozen tundra into the blinding antarctic sunset. Eye's scarred. Face windburned. Focus like that of a velociraptor. Yearning for another kill. Maybe this time, maybe.

A most worthy of adversaries, a certain @Justin Mezzell mounted gatlin gun clad, rainbow Chocobo. Feather plumed. 2inch dagger. It's not the dagger I'm worried about, it's that machine gun. Damn that gun.

He's got a few pounds on me and his creature can fly, but I've got heart and a willingness to die for this fight. I'd fall on my sword if I knew it'd kill him. Moments to go. Before the clash of gunpowder and blade. Moments.

My mind transports through the fogs of time. This wooden "Q" was a totem given to me by my only true love, my Q, my Quincy. Carved from the ashes of a Hazelnut tree of her burned-down village in the ransacks of the Seregti Warriors, this totem is the only connection to my love.

Mezzell's clan killed her in the blood-soaked battles of Nero. This "Q" is the only thing in my mind. Well, that and the thought of revenge. Of removing the hooks that were embedded in my soul that day. The day Q died.

A TYPEFIGHT TO THE DEATH between @Justin Mezzell (his shot here) and I.

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