clownpierce panted as sweat dripped from his bare face. the hues of the fire colored his pale face. he stood in the right side of the battle grounds, a mess of broken floor and past fights colored the normally dark and red grounds.

he was... used to his mask covering his face, especially during fights? but this was new. he sighed as he stretched upwards, his back cracking into a satisfying pop.

ferre and him had been dueling again, ' training. ' he called it. but really, he enjoyed fighting some close to his level. being a nether prince and all.. it was fun, sure. he loved power more than anything, loved toying and playing with his subjects, loved torturing- having fun with his jailers. whatever else a nether prince enjoys!

but, the netherling still loved fighting with all of his heart, it was gave him all of this power. so he practiced, he always did practice. he always made sure he was able to fight better, better then anyone else he could fight anyway, but... being at the top? it had more pros then cons, sure - but... he did kinda miss having someone to learn from, to continue growing with.

then, he partners with you and ferre... and gosh, he has never had more fun! the jester enjoyed - no, he loved fighting against you both. he smirked as he narrowed in on you, watching as ferre breathed heavily. the wooden swords were a mess of themselves, one hit from snapping it two pieces. ferre let out a sigh, narrowing his eyes behind his golden mask at the sword.

" crappy sword. " the spanish man hissed, throwing the sword to the side of the training ground. the flame caught on it and burned. ferre leaned backwards, the dragon's tail shifting in annoyance. " there's a perfectly good player to the right of us that can fight you, clown. " the golden dragon hissed between the pop's of lava of the totally save lava fall, grabbing a chuckle from the prince.

" alright - alright, you are free to go ferre. thank you. " the netherling laughed at his friend's annoyance. his jester cap flicked slightly as he turned to you. you were... off to the side, sat on a watching area that really wasn't safe from the fighting - but you all pretended it was. clown's own practice sword was piece's as well, the handle was basically dust.

the jester narrowed his eyes at the sword, attempting to cut in the air - caused the sword to actually just fully break from the movement and force of clown's attack. " ... jeez. " he huffed, a playful one this time. his curly dark brown hair stuck to his forehead, a mask of sweat instead of his normal jester painted mask.

" what do you say? want to train? " clown called out to you, his face a happy grin. he was very happy about this outcome; he always had that cheeky grin on his face whenever he got happy. " perhaps we need better swords... "

the jester murmured to himself, his bells ringing together as he moves to the side of the training room where they kept all of the extra training supplies.