Kiss from a Rose

Bastien was the faster man with his Ascension, perhaps, but he had never been one for fighting. He had always preferred to put his energy into learning how to draw and create rather than attack. Perhaps that was what made him stumble back with shock as Jigano rushed forward, his mind struggling to connect fear to the sight of the gentle bard, even with the monstrous turn to his face. Trying to recover quickly (though feeling unsteady on his feet) he acted aggressively back in the hopes that after one hit, Jigano might return to his senses. Bastien had not thrown many punches in his life but he had spent a lot of time developing muscles in his arms. Taking all the strength he had he tried to pull his arm back and hit it into the side of the bard's jaw, hoping to knock him over then rush to straddle him. Holding the rose and the reluctance to hurt worked against him as he tried, the painting things behind him wobbling as a stray foot or bit of clothing struck them. Bastien I must say, it’s nice This pageant of vice For life’s just the rice But sin is the flavour