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Nemo's hardly unused to battle. Both real and projected, though real battle is a quite a different struggle than that of Illusion. Life or death, surrender not something that can be faced. Still, this isn't the first time pirates have decided to board their deck. They've stormed across it, but it's a tide that the Bonadventure's crew is surely pushing back into the depths. Many of them are already unable to fight back. The battle is turning in their favor—but the fight's not fully won yet.
So, the enemies that are remaining should be what's keeping his attention.
They really should be.
But…
Mary Katharine tears through the deck like nothing he's ever seen, a cutlass in one hand and an entrancing snarl upon her face.
She handles her blade like it's just another extension of herself—flipping it from one hand to the other like it is no trouble at all as she moves, with whatever best fits the situation. It gleams silver-sharp, as deadly and unyielding as the woman who wields it. She weaves through enemies, lashing out wherever she can, a force of nature all her own. A dancer, an acrobat. She leaps and dodges, moving as fluidly as the waves that crash against the ship's hull as those who catch her attention falter before her. Her latest enemy, a taller man with a slightly smaller cutlass attempts to get in a low blow—but then she storms further in, parrying and then crossing her blade against his with a brilliant clang!
Faster, faster, faster—their blades clash, making noise that seems to resound across the entire deck. They swing and stab, but it becomes more and more clear that this is not a balanced fight the longer Nemo watches. Mary Katharine doesn't falter once, even as the man she is fighting begins to get sloppy. His jabs become more frenzied, repeated—but none of them land a true hit. She dodges each easily enough, her own steel a barrier against any harm. Parry, jab, thrust—each movement she makes in this battle is calculated, the sign of someone well-trained, almost too fast to keep up with.
She's mere metres away from Nemo now. He counts himself lucky for it, that the fight managed to draw her this near to him. This close, Nemo can see every inch of her movement - the way her muscles flex as she handles her sword, the callouses upon her hands, the assured glint in her eyes as she pushes the man further back into the railing, the determined way her lips twist and the way her eyes narrow. A woman utterly focused on her goal, one that will not be denied. She makes one, two more thrusts at her opponent, and then—
There.
She finds an opening in the man's faltering defenses and strikes, letting out a victorious sound as her aim hits true. Her blade pierces his flesh, and he lets out an agonized scream. He stumbles back, hands reaching up to clutch at his newly inflicted wound. Mary stands tall above him, steady—a fighter to the last, not even that out of breath.
Her fight did not take long at all, Nemo admits. With her skill, he is hardly surprised by that. But he doesn't think he'd have been able to look away, even if it had taken an age.
With a final thud, the man falls to the ground, groaning. Mary's snarl turns victorious, and she lets out a quick, satisfied exhale. Her blade falls to the side, red beginning to slide off of it. She rolls back her shoulders, head tilting a bit to the side. It only draws attention to the line of her neck, the way sweat has begun to drip down it. He also can't ignore how the hair loosely tied out of her face falls down her back in this moment, greys and browns interwined.
…By the Gates, she's stunning.
It's not a new thought for him, but Nemo really doesn't know how anyone could look at Mary Katharine and not think that. Victory suits her well, settling upon her head better than any crown he could have worn. Fresh from battle, she looks as stunning as any he’d seen in the parties in his younger days. Breath stutters in his chest at the sight, heat rising within him. He watches her take in one more deep, steadying breath, begin to look around, and—
Her gaze falls onto him.
He shouldn't be surprised by it. With the way he's been staring, the way he's still so close—well, he would be a fool to not expect someone as sharp as her to not notice once her attention wasn't focused upon an opponent. Still, an electric jolt shoots through him as her gaze turns from surprised into aware—one that is stronger than his Radiance could ever hope to be.
A grin draws itself upon her face.
Nemo begins to feel pinned by her returning gaze, as it further shifts into delight. With the way she's looking at him…his throat starts to dry up. He watches once more as Mary starts to move towards him, a different sort of light beginning to shine in her eyes. Her gaze rakes up and down him as she advances, soon close enough that she's mere inches away at most.
It seems he’s become her new target.
"Enjoying the show?" she asks. It's said lightly enough that it's not really a question.
Nemo was a Prince once. Words should not be something he struggles with— any proper response should be within his grasp. But all of them seem to have all abandoned him now, and he curses himself a little for it. He manages to come up with, "Yes."
…Gates, he's usually better at this. In his defense, he's not sure how eloquent anyone would be after witnessing her in her element like that. Still—one word, really? Especially one word that could never fully encompass all of what he's currently thinking?
She laughs, but it's far from cruel. It does not mock him at all—instead, it's warm, a sound he'd want to hear over and over again. "I'm never going to say no to an audience!” she says. “Especially such a sweet one. Really, your jaw looks like it was this close to dropping!" she teases. "Flatterer."
…Honestly, Nemo is a little surprised his jaw hadn't fully dropped. He hadn't been sure if he had or not, what with how focused he was on her. He is still trying to find the right words, and not finding them as quickly as he would like.
"That said, we're still in the middle of a battle," she reminds him. "Perhaps I'm not what you should be focusing on right now, as nice as it is to see my talents appreciated." She lets out a hmm, tapping her foot and furrowing her brow, as if deciding upon something. And then, with a quick twist of her wrist, a flick up—
Cold.
Metal, pressed up against one of the softest parts of him. The flat part of her cutlass rests just under his chin now. With that, Mary Katharine raises her blade ever so slightly, and Nemo's chin raises in turn--tilting upward, facing her even more. Not quite fully under his own control anymore.
Oh.
Nemo stops breathing.
It's as if fireworks are exploding within him, his mind this close to going fully blank. His eyes widen, and his mouth falls slightly open. Everything seems to narrow down to this moment, this sensation upon him now.
“Keep your guard up, Nemo," Mary Katharine chirps. "Let’s not get too distracted, hmm?”
The metal of her blade is so, so cool under his chin. He thinks it might still have traces of the blood she's spilled. All he can focus on is the chill of it now—the way he wants it to stay. It's not dangerous, not truly. She'd never hurt him. Nemo has long since learned that, would never doubt her when it comes to that. But it is still there, still something he could never ignore—really, he's vulnerable right now. His stomach swoops, far from unpleasantly, at that realisation, starting to feel a bit dizzy. He fights the urge to clench his jaw, to suck in an unsteady breath.
He has etiquette still, doesn't he? I am under control, he tells himself, and I—
Mary Katharine tilts his head up further with the cutlass.
A smirk, wide and knowing, falls onto her face in the next breath.
Nemo's heart feels as if it completely stops for a moment—but in the next, it starts to feel like it's thrumming fast enough to properly burst out of his chest.
—am going to die here, he realises.
He is not going to survive this. Mary Katharine is going to actually kill him. There is no way he's coming out of this the same.
Mary raises an eyebrow, a silent well? Delight dances across her face, the look of a woman who is seeing exactly what she wants to.He really can't look away from it—absolutely caught in her gaze. "Nemo?" she prompts—remarkably casual, as if she doesn't know exactly what she's doing to him. He'd almost believe she was truly being so nonchalant about it if he wasn't close enough to see her pupils dilate. "Give me a response, baby."
It takes everything Nemo has not to make a truly embarrassing sound at that.
“…Yes," he manages to get out despite everything coursing through him. "On it.”
He prays he sounds like he's not about to squeak. Given the way MK's smirk doesn't falter one bit, he is sure he has not succeeded. “Good boy," she praises, drawing the blade away from his chin.
Oh. Oh, that's not fair at all!
He's already fighting hard enough to not make any mortifying noises—that's just tinder upon the fire! A sudden pang of want for the cutlass back strikes him, the feel of it under his chin something he already knows he's going to be thinking about often from here on out. He can already feel his cheeks heating up all over again.
She nods—he would call it business-like, assured, if she wasn't still smiling. She absolutely knows what she's doing with that. She's always been one to be focused on her goals as long as he's known her, but Nemo knows that's never stopped her from having her fun. It's just that often enough that that fun applies to what she does to him, too.
…But, it's hardly like he minds.
"Cover my back, will you?” she orders, easy as anything. "I want to end this. I think we're nearly done this battle. "
"Of course," he replies. He may still be feeling slightly dizzy, but that's not hard to listen to—none of her orders ever have been ones he wants to fight back on him, oddly enough. And this one? There is no better use for his magic than to protect those he loves. That is his, a Way he can control.
She gives him one final smile before she moves.
Mary turns away from him, charging back into the fray. Her blade flips back up, drawn and ready to strike. She races towards one of the final opponents still standing, hand clenched tightly around the hilt of her cutlass. Determination courses through him as he sees the way she's once again taking to her element, moving within it.
Let's finish this.
Nemo's hands begin to glow—a shield beginning to form, as he weaves his Protection into something he'll make unbreakable. He'll keep her safe, making sure his magic will be put to good use. That same shield begins to form, glimmering green with promise—raising higher and higher, barrier blocking any that would dare to strike. He hears Mary Katharine cackle in sheer victorious delight behind him, sending a thrill straight to his heart.
For one thing, he thinks, blood rushing through him, adrenaline and longing, I want to know what she would have done next if we didn't have this to focus on.
Winning the battle will be worth it just to learn that.