Its Disgusting (Stridercest) Chapter 1.

Your name is Dave Strider and you are beginning to wonder if you should be escorted into an asylum for the clinically insane. An obnoxious ringing rattles your ears as you lick your swollen lip, tasting the metallic consistency of your blood. You cranium is pulsating sporadic rhymes in tune with your heart beat as you gaze back at your older brother towering over you like some sinister being. His face is expressionless, stoic and cold and that really pisses you off.

You are not quite sure why you had agreed to this strife, maybe it was the fact that he had threatened to cease your supply of savory AJ or the fact that he had you up to your neck in plush smuppet ass. Either way, Bro's bribing methods were unbeatable and now here you were, getting your ass handed to you like some little girl taking on a UFC samurai fighter.

Or it could be the fact that the two of you have been preoccupied with other matters and now was the perfect time for some brotherly bonding. What was more bonding than a smoldering hot battle filled with passion, frustration and a few broken ribs?

You release a rattled sigh as you grapple and search for a clear head. You just needed to focus. Sure Bro had far more experience than you in every aspect of swords and strifing, but you have been working on your own little techniques for a while now too. If only you could steal a little time to get your head into the game.

Body rocking to the electrifying vibe of 'Beatdown', you draw a deep intake of breath through your nose, getting a cold hard whiff of asphalt and concrete. Shutting your eyes, you begin to fine tune your ears. You snake your way through the wind, through the rush of digital beats and right into the center of Bro. You could hear him breathing and the faint whistle from the metal of his silver blade is all too clear for you now.

You wait patiently for the right time to strike, the grip on your blade fighting with anticipation. You wait for it, and when it finally comes you lash out your blade, metal grinding with metal, hot angry sparks flying as you lash open your fiery eyes to glare are Bro with outmost confidence. Bro's jaw drops slightly, caught off guard by your sudden change in stance. There it was. Now was your time to shine and steal the spotlight.

Gyrating your arms, you jab the butt of your katana between his ribs and stomach, causing him to omit a startled grunt as he staggered backwards to catch his balance. Clawing at his torso, he glares back at you, pissed to all hell and at that moment you knew that when this was all done and over you wouldn't be getting that new camera you had been bugging him for since last July. The tension between the two of you was escalating quickly and in truth, it was beginning to develop a sour taste in your mouth.

Yet you plug on, determination flooding through your veins like some kind of drug. Today was finally going to be the day that you had officially whooped Bro's ass. You were going to enjoy every moment of this; save for the fact that you were going to be swept away by a tidal wave of revenge and remorse. Of course, you quickly found at that moment you didn't give two shits. Gliding your right leg outwards, your feet gracefully danced along the concrete roof, almost as if you were skimming along butter.

Your motions are so fluid and delicate that it would make the most skilled ballet dancer fall to their knees and weep at your feet. You lock legs with Bro and he is yet again caught off guard by your eager encounters. He sucks in an airy gasp before he topples backwards, his head bouncing hard off of the concrete flooring like some sort of spring. You hover over his dazed person and he gazes up at you with tender eyes of defeat.

You direct the tip of your blade under his chin and he quickly tilts his head up, exposing a veined neck.  Pearls of perspiration begin to tickle your flushed skin, your breath now ragged and labored. It had only been a brief strife but that did not reduce the effort it had taken in bringing Bro down.  Mounting over his motionless body, you flash an endearing smirk at him just to rub it into his face.

He grunts in pain as the pressure of your ass begins to crush his already damaged torso. "So you think you're hot shit, kid?" he rasps in a husky voice, his shades slowly straying away down the side of his face. You could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest lift you up and down like some soothing quarter ride fit for a toddler. You find it to be oddly comforting but you do not waver, swiping your tongue over your spilt lip. It had ceased bleeding but you remind yourself that you would need to apply ointment on it later.

You drop your katana onto the concrete omitting a soft sigh in relief. You listen to the soft vibrations of its metal, body dazed and unreal. It was like you were floating in the clouds of bliss and heavens gates had opened their gates to shed you some light. So it was over, you had finally won.

You equip your katana back into your sylladex and throw out a welcoming hand, offering the older Strider some much needed assistance. There was a slight waver of hesitation before Bro accepted your invitation and pulled himself onto his feet.

"So about that deal we arranged earlier? About if I won this little strife here?" You drawl in question as you cross your arms, a victorious smirk still plastered high along your face.  " I've got something in mind that I'd like you to do for me."