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| Fist-n-cuffs; Pwny | |
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| Topic Started: Apr 23 2012, 04:38 PM (506 Views) | |
| RFalque | Apr 23 2012, 04:38 PM Post #1 |
God-Emperor of all Belugas
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Finally, a day where he didn't have to run around outside. Not that he didn't mind the fresh air or the quiet mornings, but Eric simply didn't like the monotony of running around a trail for a couple hours. He'd much rather be practising something...you know, like swordplay...than just working on cardio. So what if it wasn't as effective as running? At least it was less boring, and for Eric, that meant quite a lot when his routine called for a good portion of his day to involve it. This time, after much protest, Eric was granted his time to spend in the Bushido Chambers. From there, he could occupy his activities with a far more fantastical reach than anything the outside could lend to him. In here, Eric could play out any sort of adventure he wanted to. Maybe swashbuckle with pirates, or run from a chasing dinosaur. At least then he could experience something. Or, maybe he could be distracted by someone else. The doors of the Chambers had small viewing windows, and Eric never really knew why. Maybe it was to discourage certain...uncouth types from wasting away their hours feeding their loneliness with gratifying junk food. Though...Eric himself had been tempted more than once to at least try one of the more sensual settings. But what need had he for that when he was getting a nice view of one already? She was beating up some poor punching bag. The scars along her body reminded Eric of Andreja, and the boy had a mind to pin her as one of the more rough and rowdy types. No doubt, were he to unfortunately step into her little lair, he'd probably be in for a mouthful if not a fistful. But there was one impressive difference between her and Andreja. This woman was fucking hot, and that said a lot when Eric gladly boned Andreja to his deficit (and not just once). Granted, much time had passed since then. Eric was still a little heartbroken from his own bout of idiocy with Vera, and there wasn't quite as much appeal to laying himself down to a woman. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't try, and after a few months there was no doubt in his mind that maybe he could at least try and play with a bit of fire. Eric quietly stepped into Fiash's chamber and shut the door behind him. He wasn't exactly sure what to say, and for a few minutes he simply watched her unload some fury onto the bag. She seemed to hit hard...much harder than he'd expect out of someone of that build. She was definitely athletic of course, but something in her hits...maybe she had superhuman strength? Or maybe the bag was lighter than usual. ”Seems like you've got a lot of pent-up rage.” Eric smiled politely, shoving one hand into his sweatpants pocket while the other dropped his sports bag, his fencing gear inside, down beside his feet. This probably was not what his coach had in mind for cardio, but Eric didn't see the trouble in at least a little bit of fun. He did stick near the door though, in case this woman had as much of a temper as Andreja. |
| Elena Madison Teague | |
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| Pwny Express | Apr 23 2012, 05:26 PM Post #2 |
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The morning hadn't been too eventful thus far. I'd thankfully stopped getting stares from random passersby now, and those that did were generally new kids, which weren't showing up as much anymore. Good enough for me. I was tired of the whole affair, and welcomed the relief from constant stares and the like by those that hadn't seen a well-scarred almost-20-something woman clumsily passing them in the hallway. Since I spent most of my time between my room and either what passed for a cafeteria or the gym-slash-training rooms, it wasn't as much of a common occurrence anyhow, but still something that got the blood running every now and then when some twit just stopped and stared. Where I came from, women - and even girls - with scars weren't all too uncommon; mostly lower-class, they were those that hadn't the resources to afford plastic surgery, and generally had a history of being - for lack of a more subtle term - prostitutes. Not something I wanted to get into, but all the same not that rare either. Then again, most weren't the type to look that good to begin with, and in some cases the scars actually improved certain aspects. Anyhow, simply put, kids had best not be starin' at me like I'm the freak if they know what's good for them. So imagine my frustration when I finally have a room to myself (that possibly might have been badgered from another runt), and no less than a quarter of an hour after that some little shit walks in all smug like he owns the damned place. Of course, I didn't notice him at first, being quite enthralled in the workout I had going, but just his voice made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Good gods, even his tone was grating. My head whipped around, laying eyes upon him, then turned back to the bag for one last swing. With that out of the way, I rotated around on one foot, leaning up against the bag, arms folded as I bored my eyes into the individual in question with an intensity that suggested some level of irritation at being interrupted. He was a scrawny lil' piece, but I wasn't going to take that at face-value; most of the kids around here were more than they looked, and seeing how they admitted me here that probably should've said something. Handsome, for what seemed to be his age, enough that I felt the overwhelming need to correct that mistake. But that smirk... that's what got me. I could feel the irritation building already, part of me just wanting to wipe that grin off his face with one swift, well-aimed-- No, down girl. Not yet; maybe that's just what he wants - an excuse for ya to underestimate him. "Yeh? Who doesn't, cabrón?" Again, I know the translator thingy works for any language, but it was habitual to use Spanglish just for kicks every once in a while. When he didn't immediately cough up an answer, I frowned, rolling my eyes as I stated "Unless you've got somethin' to say, then scram." Turning back to the bag after a moment with a bored sigh when there still wasn't any reply, I began the routine again, hoping the annoyance would just... I dunno... leave. |
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Rane's* Soundtrack Leader: Bush - "Sound of Winter" *Rane's | |
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| RFalque | Apr 23 2012, 06:00 PM Post #3 |
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God-Emperor of all Belugas
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Oh yeah, she was definitely a lot like Andreja. Fortunately, she wasn't smoking (yet?), so Eric had a little more tolerance to her attitude than he would have for a certain other similar hothead. Still, the boy was undoubtedly taken a little aback when she snapped at him. The smile on his face faded, though not entirely. He was a little more wary, if only because he wasn't sure whether the woman was ready to jump out at his throat. Eric threw his hands up in defence, ”Not in the early morning I don't.” There was a hint of angry condescension in his tone, more of a lecturing retort than anything falsely snide. He huffed and shook his head slightly, keeping himself from rolling his eyes. ”I figured you'd be used to onlookers, with a body and skills like that.” Eric didn't follow through with a raise of his eyebrows, or a doofus smile. His head titled slightly, taking on an air of simple frankness. ”I'm Eric.” He scratched the back of his head looking down at his bag. Maybe he should just leave. It wasn't like she was going to entertain him as a fencing partner, and as much as he'd love to dive into her pants he had a feeling he was about to rub the girl the entirely wrong way. Still, there was too much temptation in at least trying right before she beat him half to death. Or tried to. He was just lucky to be in the Bushido Chambers, where bad luck wouldn't end with his neck busted and spine twisted the entirely wrong way. Once he managed to claw his way out of the Bushido Chamber, he'd be no worse off than when he went in. Fiashandra, huh? That wasn't a name readily, but also not readily forgotten. It looked like he had to pick up the pace with his discussion though, else she'd be ready to boot him out. And to think, he just wanted a little time to know her. ”Look, if you want to beat me up so badly, how about it then? Just every moment you can't drop me cold, you have to deal with me afterwards. Simple enough for you?” Eric crossed his arms and stepped back from his gear, wondering if Fiash would take up his challenge. Edited by Falque, Apr 23 2012, 06:02 PM.
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| Elena Madison Teague | |
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| Pwny Express | Apr 23 2012, 06:57 PM Post #4 |
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Settling into something closer to animosity rather than outrightly hostile, I thoroughly ignored the kid. Okay, so he wasn't a midget; far from it, actually, but that didn't mean I was falling head-over-heels for tall, dark, & handsome. When he mentioned his name, I gave a groan, glancing back with a look that stated very plainly "Why are you still here?" before returning to the routine, though I did eventually grumble out my full name (first name, at least) between strikes. Just because I was treating him like shit didn't mean I wanted to go nameless when I did inevitably turn around to knock his jaw into next week when he refused to leave. Most of what he said became nothing more than background noise as I let the heavy bag be my outlet for anger at the moment... ...Until that suggestion came out of his mouth. One fist had just connected with the bag, and it froze as he uttered the words. I cocked my head slightly to the side, towards him, a moment after he finished, my attention now fully diverted, considering the offer. Hell, it's what I was waiting for, and no one could blame him if I broke his face in - especially in here. Then again, it could be just what he wanted, and I wasn't stupid enough to just hand anyone a victory because I'd underestimated them. Of course, the bruiser types seemed more inclined to be violent, and not cockily well-assured, as this asshole was. Huffing a muted snort, my response came a moment later as I snarked "Heh... a'ight, deal. This shouldn't take long." Turning around, cracking my knuckles, I took a moment to shake out my limbs, which were a bit stiff from the previous practice, and called upon all those feelings of irritation and anger, letting them simmer at the surface as I faced Eric, sizing him up. Granted, he probably had a longer reach than I did, but that could easily work against him; up-close, speed was more important than reach, so keeping him close would make that reach work against him. 'Course, jumping right at him would be stupid, so instead of immediately rushing at him I took my time, carefully circling around him with no guard up at all, waiting to see what was going to happen before I opened up that can of Whoop-Ass. One thing was certain; once the kiddie gloves were off, I wasn't going to hold back, not even if I was losing... somehow. There would be no pulled punches. There would be no 'practice jabs'. I didn't believe in 'holding back' for anyone who started a fight with me and had some idea what they were starting... |
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Rane's* Soundtrack Leader: Bush - "Sound of Winter" *Rane's | |
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| RFalque | Apr 23 2012, 10:01 PM Post #5 |
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God-Emperor of all Belugas
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Eric huffed and grinned. Man, he was so going to die. But maybe it'd be worth it, if he could last for long enough. The problem was just that, lasting. He didn't need to knock her out, though probably by some unspoken rule if he managed to, he'd get her for the whole day. All he needed to do was not get hit and, when hit, reduce them to minor injuries. If he was lucky, Fiash couldn't hit as hard as she was doing for very long. If he was unlucky, she had even more endurance than he. Still, Eric had a few tricks up his own sleeve. He was a skilled fencer, and with that talent came the knack at moving his feet. He'd be able to keep the right amount of distance between himself and Fiash, and also able to dash out of the way fairly efficiently. He wouldn't be able to dodge very well if she came in for a blow somehow, but with his powers he could manage. He could only use them for a short time though...he wouldn't be able to rely on it. Still, with his reach added, it meant Fiash would be playing a slow game. Perfect for the kind of match it was. Unfortunately for Fiash, the problem with not engaging in Eric was two-fold. For one, Eric didn't actually care about dealing out damage. If he and Fiash stayed away from each other the whole time, then the benefit was on his side. Furthermore, she would not be able to see Eric's talents from a distance. He didn't put up a very inspired guard, his hand position practically betraying the fact he didn't know how to defend himself from a mixed martial artist. His feet were unusually positioned as well, but unlike his hands they didn't betray a sense of inexperience. Perhaps he was a skilled kicker? ”You can just give up if you want and hang out at my place. I'd be all for that.” Eric smirked, hoping to provoke Fiash into charging at him. Otherwise, they wouldn't be getting anywhere circling each other. Eric could dance all day, with those impressive legs of his. |
| Elena Madison Teague | |
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| Pwny Express | Apr 23 2012, 10:27 PM Post #6 |
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I took in all the information I could get as I watched. Eric hadn't even bothered putting up much of anything defensively either, but he wasn't charging. A glance at the footwork might not have given much as to what he could do with them, but they weren't randomly spaced either - there was something going on, some method to them, but I couldn't figure out what exactly. As well, he seemed too relaxed, and though I couldn't tell what was in the bag he'd brought with him, something told me he was used to fighting with more gear than just his bare fists. Again, what that was and what it meant, though, wasn't something I could discern just yet. Again, he belched out another line, obviously smug about his 'performance' so far. That would have to change. "Ningunas gracias. I don't baby-sit." And then, it was on. Whatever abilities he had, whatever strengths, he'd better put them up now; there's a distinct difference between going toe-to-toe with a street punk who's fought all his life, and facing an opponent who can bust out some real speed and strength if they need it. The latter applied here. Taking several steps forward, I closed the distance between us faster than most people can think, winding up for an obvious haymaker with my right hand while the left was held down and out just in case he moved that way, or if he stepped backwards out of my current range. If he moved to my right instead... well, I'd figure something out. Needless to say, if he didn't move at all, he was going to get the spit knocked out of him pretty hard. |
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Rane's* Soundtrack Leader: Bush - "Sound of Winter" *Rane's | |
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| RFalque | Apr 23 2012, 10:39 PM Post #7 |
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God-Emperor of all Belugas
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Eric wasn't exactly smug about his performance. As Fiash herself could deduce, Eric was hardly putting up much of anything. As far as Eric himself was concerned, he'd have at least expected Fiash to think he was provoking her. Maybe she did, and figured to indulge his foolishness, or maybe she was just a little too pissed off. Either way, Eric could hear the woman growl something back. He frowned a little, ”You can't be that much older.” Suddenly, the woman burst into speed. Eric was used to sudden movements, having seen time and again a lunge from another opponent. This was no lunge, however. There was far more information to take in right at that moment, including both of Fiash's hands. One seemed to be winding up for a heavy hit, and the other wasn't doing anything. Were Eric more skilled, he'd have probably shifted just enough to the right to keep Fiash from using her left, duck, then smash her exposed side with heavy left hook. Had Eric his sword, he would have driven his sword right into Fiash's face then pulled it down to block her swing, or maybe he could have stepped to the side and cut her down But he wasn't with either, and so Eric did the next best thing and lurched over to the right. He at least knew enough to get Fiash unbalanced. Eric couldn't follow up with anything, however. He had no speed and no will to go in and punish Fiash, and so he did the next best thing and put distance between them. His arm tensed, allowing the bracer on his arm to deactivate. Eric could tap into his powers now, and maybe through there get a better idea of what to do against Fiash. ”Besides, I don't need a baby sitter. Unless you're into that kind of roleplay.” Eric taunted Fiash again. |
| Elena Madison Teague | |
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| Pwny Express | Apr 23 2012, 11:07 PM Post #8 |
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Shit, I'd half-expected that. And made no preparations for it. The haymaker whiffed completely as Eric moved to the right, and I saw him touch something on his wrist as he taunted some more. Growling for real this time, I turned to face him, planting both feet as he hung back a bit out of direct punching range. "Pha. I ain't gonna change your diaper when you shit yourself!" Another lunge, though this one was slightly faster than before. It wasn't something anyone without experience would notice, but those that had some might see it. This time, it looked like I was going for a straight one-two jab, but as my right arm swung out, the hand opened, and I tried to grab anything within range as I took a swipe. If I could get hold of something, then the pummeling could begin. Whether that failed or succeeded, the next was definitely coming from the left hand. Not necessarily outright telegraphed, but it was there. What it would be, though, wasn't so readily available; from where it was, it could just as easily turn from a left hook to a jab. Whatever it became, though, it was going to hurt if it connected. Edited by Pwny Express, Apr 23 2012, 11:08 PM.
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Rane's* Soundtrack Leader: Bush - "Sound of Winter" *Rane's | |
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| RFalque | Apr 24 2012, 04:01 PM Post #9 |
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God-Emperor of all Belugas
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Ah, that's what he liked. A little banter between exchange of fists. Not only did it give Eric the chance to make some less than polite conversation with a hot piece of ass, but it encouraged a little more sportsmanship in the way they fought. Or at least so Eric liked to believe. He was lucky enough to set his powers on, since he could tell Fiash had decided to charge in faster and harder. It was unfortunate she had so much time to warm up, and without his help. The small space between her two attacks allowed for Eric to warm up his eyes, however. Though Fiash was measurably faster, Eric's mind processed her movements at an impossible speed, every molecule of her muscles mapped down in meticulous detail. Eric didn't know what sort of fighting moves she had, but he did have the capacity to react accordingly to how her arms moved. He wasn't any faster though, but speed didn't mean so much when he could map out his own reflexes before it mattered. Normally, Eric wouldn't have expected her hand to open up and go for a grab. This time, the small twitches in her muscle were laid bare to Eric's processes, and he could react accordingly. Eric double-stepped backwards, practically leaping out of the way of her grab. Unfortunately, Fiash continued her charge, and Eric didn't have enough speed to properly get out of the way of her left jab. He pivoted on one foot, swivelling his body out of the way, but the fist grazed his side with excessive force and Eric gasped out a small cry. Yeah...that was going to leave a bruise. ”A diaper? Do I get to suck on your teat at least?” Eric rubbed his side as he gathered more distance between himself and Fiash. He slouched down a bit, trying to keep pressure off the small wound, but it was just that. The graze wasn't enough to really slow him down, just a small nuisance. Eric could be far more of a nuisance, as his smug grin would suggest to Fiash. |
| Elena Madison Teague | |
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| Pwny Express | Apr 24 2012, 05:10 PM Post #10 |
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The hell-- No one normal should've been able to dodge that fast. Granted, I wasn't expecting anyone 'normal', but it still caught me off-guard that Eric could react that fast. My second attack, thankfully, landed - well, sort of - but it didn't even hardly slow him down. Whatever power or powers he was using didn't offset his injuries, but I couldn't afford to wear him out with side-swipes and minor injuries. But his... comment was what really put me off. Even just the mere idea of that-- The calculated strikes quickly devolved into a flurry of punches, each one seemingly aimed at random in a "spray & pray" method, a roar of fury following on the heels of the first set. Still, the madness wasn't without its method; every sidestep he took was matched with a turn of the body and a hook or jab from the opposite arm while the other one continued to throw out barely-aimed punches, and every time he stepped back I stepped forward twice, aiming to put myself inside his fighting zone. Undoubtedly, a few of the dummy punches would land or glance him, but if I could keep boxing Eric in like this it wouldn't take long to wear down even a lithe bastard like him. All it was now was a matter of time, unless he started taking the offensive - then it would be my turn to have some fun. And I had a few ideas of my own right now if he decided to stop pansy-footing around... |
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| RFalque | Apr 24 2012, 05:32 PM Post #11 |
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God-Emperor of all Belugas
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Now, wordplay and teasing was fun and all, but Eric could tell from the change of her expression that she wasn't just mad anymore and wanted him to shut up. She wanted to personally bust his throat so he couldn't speak again. Eric frowned very quickly as the woman charged straight at him. He muttered to himself at first, the fear and additional adrenaline overriding most any of his thoughts. By the time Fiash threw the first in her flurry of swings, Eric wasn't out for careful calculation. She wasn't getting any more tired, and Eric was running out of room to move. He tried his best to dodge, but it wasn't enough to avoid everything. Fiash seemed to like to throw only punches for now, and Eric threw his hands up to guard his head most importantly. However, what hits did connect took a lot out of him, and he could feel his arms become increasingly battered from the force. After every hit, Eric grunted and twitched in place, trying in vain to double on his footwork. It wasn't enough, and Fiash eventually managed to knock him right in the chest, sending Eric flinching away from her and twisted over himself. He was facing away from her now, almost as though trying to protect his vitals with his back. He wasn't completely out of the count however. Maybe just right then he could try to surprise her with something before things got worse. He threw a wild and choreographed left haymaker in hopes it'd knock against her head. Short of that, his best option was to just try to ease her a bit before she wrecked him. ”H-hey, I didn't mean to offend...” Unfortunately, it was probably far too late for apologies. |
| Elena Madison Teague | |
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| Pwny Express | Apr 24 2012, 06:37 PM Post #12 |
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That flurry finally did the trick, throwing him off-balance and eventually eschewing his footwork until he tripped over himself, trying one last desperate thrown punch to fight back. It didn't work; I turned as soon as I saw it, and the fist only connected with the nearest shoulder, barely even registering as anything painful. In my fury, I almost ignored those feeble words he spoke, but something halted me before I went down on him to in a complete fit of rage to beat the snot out of him. Another time, another place, a different fight with a sibling - but a similar result, and similar words spoken. Don't get me wrong - I'm not the honorable type; if an opponent is down for the count, I have few reservations about beating them until they're unconscious, or worse, if I'm pissed enough. But that was if someone was trying to kill me - this was just a stupid decision by another reckless kid who didn't know any better. Where was the amusement in that? Granted, he wouldn't die, but with the strength I'd found I could easily snap a few bones on someone - or worse, push joints in ways they weren't meant to go. Yes, the medical facilities here could work some pretty unsettlingly good 'miracles', but what if they didn't get it right? I'd seen wheelchair-bound kids before; it's not something I'd want to put someone in, especially someone who has plenty of years ahead of them. And this wasn't a fight to the death - it was a bet that was supposed to be (loosely) "friendly". The next moment was a near thing, but I pulled my next punch, directing it to land on the ground right in front of his face with as much power as I could direct into it. Hell, the force surprised even me, and I felt a couple of bones in that arm groan in protest at the amount of force used. Leaning over until my face was right next to his ear, I used my other hand to pull his head around until he faced me. "Then if you know what's good for ya," I remarked, my voice set in an eerily-calm tone a few notches above a whisper - a complete switch-up from a moment before, "then don't go there again. I don't take shit from people too well, 'specially kids." Standing back up and letting go of him, I walked over to throw a few more fists at the heavy bag - letting the steam out, so to say - then started for the door, giving him a deflated kick to the back that had just enough energy left in it to give him a jump. Out of curiosity, I stopped next to the bag he had, poking at it with one foot. When I saw what was in it, I... well, I didn't know quite what to make of it. "The hell...?" Never seen gear like that before; I gingerly picked up on of the stick things, as if me just touching it might break the thing apart. It looked... something like a thin sword, like one of them that pirates always use in the movies (gawd, can't remember the name of that thing...), but the rest of the stuff... well, it was weird. Like gear for a catcher in baseball, only with less padding - and lamer. |
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| RFalque | Apr 25 2012, 01:08 AM Post #13 |
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Ugh...well...that didn't end as well as he suspected. Or rather, it ended a lot sooner than Eric had hoped. Predictably, his one desperate attack was shrugged off as nothing, and Eric soon found himself flat on his face, the pain of his welts finally kicking in where the adrenaline had abandoned him. Well...that was that. Eric could only be thankful that Fiash didn't decide to beat him up even more, and maybe the Chamber would be merciful enough to heal him quickly. Eric didn't struggle when Fiash pulled on his head. His eyes wandered up to Fiash's own, and Eric very nearly gulped at the sight. Was he lucky, and she took his own words into consideration? Or was she just planning on giving him a little warning anyway? Honestly, he didn't think she'd take his comment so poorly. Maybe this was why he was always getting into trouble. He didn't really understand the gravity of his words. ”I didn't start it...” Eric mumbled back weakly, grunting after his head hit the floor again. He was too sore to get up right then and there, and Eric nearly forgot to address Fiash again before she started out the door. Fortunately, she did kick him, and the surprise also got him thinking and remembering. Ah, right. He wasn't down immediately, so he did clock up some time with her... ”It's fencing gear. I was going to...” It honestly surprised Eric that Fiash didn't recognize what was in his bag. In some ways, he was very tempted to ask her to stop snooping around, though he imagined such a demand would only end with an extra broken rib. Eric struggled back onto his feet and looked at Fiash. Maybe...he could get a little revenge on her, or at least change her perception of him somehow. Eric didn't like being treated like some 'kid', even if it best suited him Hmm...maybe he could turn this in his favour. ”Try and learn to sword fight. You didn't kick me down immediately, so you owe me some time. Rematch?” Eric stumbled his way to his bag, but instead of putting anything on, he mumbled to the computer, ”Uh, practice swords, please.” Two wooden swords appeared, one in front of Eric and another hovering in front of Fiash. ”I can...maybe...erg...do a bit better with a weapon?” Eric was lurched forward, trying to reduce the pressure on some of his cracked ribs. He had one eye swollen nearly shut, and one of his legs was bent out of shape. Still, he tried to point his sword up at Fiash. He looked completely feeble, the way he improperly spaced his legs and haphazardly held his blade up to point a few inches to Fiashandra's left. It was, however, all just an act. He wanted to convince Fiash it would just be another routine beating. The problem was, if all things went well, she'd have the wrong person in mind for the beating. |
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| Pwny Express | Apr 25 2012, 07:46 PM Post #14 |
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And you didn't finish it either... I mentally grumbled to myself, but didn't actually say it out loud. When Eric mentioned what the stuff was, though, it did spark a few brain cells into action; it wasn't something I knew a lot about, obviously, but I had at least heard a little of the 'sport' at least. Dancing around poking people with sticks didn't exactly appeal to me - but I did 'owe' him time for not knocking him senseless in the first few steps, and I kept what promises or deals I made. Shrugging, I grabbed the other stick after dropping the foil (now that I remembered that's what it's called), taking a moderate stance, imitating what I always saw in those pirate movies. Of course, I had no idea what I was doing, but Eric hadn't either when he made his claim earlier. However... something was up. I couldn't tell immediately, but some niggling little instinct I had nagged at me from the back of my mind, telling me this was a setup. Not that I could do anything about it, but I kind of assumed beginners didn't have gear that was of that quality, even if they were serious on learning. Hell, all I had when I started learning to shoot was a grummy little .22 that jammed up all the time, working my way up from there. That, and the faulty stance seemed... well, a bit too deliberate, especially from the footwork from earlier. Then again, maybe I'd messed the kid up worse than I thought I had - wouldn't be the first time. Tilting my head, I asked "You sure you up for this?", some genuine concern creeping its way into my tone. I didn't want to leave any permanent marks if I could help it; by what rough figures I could make, it wouldn't be that hard to jam this thing at him hard enough to break skin and crack bones, even if it was made of wood. Then again, the way he dodged earlier, maybe he was going to be pansy-footing his way out of here again... When Eric didn't relent, I shrugged again, stating "A'ight..." and retook that last stance, adding an enthusiastic "Engarde!" for effect. Maybe I should be a swashbuckler when I got out of this place... hot buccaneer chicks were surely still in demand somewhere in this world. |
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| RFalque | Apr 25 2012, 08:19 PM Post #15 |
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Huh. It actually worked. It wasn't quite the quality of gear that Fiash should have been paying attention to, but rather the wear on it. Maybe she wouldn't able to nice, but had she smelled the helmet at least, she'd have perhaps noticed several hours worth of dry sweat built up in the gear. Eric didn't make any reaction when she didn't seem to notice. Instead, he just stumbled a little too the side, as though he was struggling to even stay standing. There was a bit of truth to that, but Eric didn't need to stand straight to end this. Now, to his fortune, Fiash seemed to think that Eric either didn't know what he was doing or was far too damaged to do anything about it. Both rather untrue, but Eric didn't want her to know of course. Deceit was a vital aspect in any battle, and Eric considered them at war right from the very start. If Fiash couldn't read her opponent properly, then she had no place winning. It was just a matter of proving it to her now. ”I think...urg...” Eric clenched his side and smiled, ”The reward is worth the risk.” Eric didn't take a proper stance. Rather, as Fiash likely wouldn't realize, he put his weight on his back foot and set his sword pointing back. Essentially, he was already in mid swing, and now he was just waiting for Fiash to come near him. The sword didn't have a sheath to properly execute the technique, but it was all in the motions. He just had to pretend he was drawing his sword. The rest would flow naturally. ”Engarde...” Eric muttered, and carefully shuffled his way towards Fiash, still keeping weight on his back foot. She was right, hot buccaneer chicks were always in demand, for Eric anyway. Unfortunately, Eric imagined he'd have Fiash swear off swords for good once he executed the swift and overpowering beating awaiting for her. Once Fiash was in range, and she probably wouldn't even realize she was in range, Eric would spring his trap. With one heavy push from his back foot, Eric covered a good deal of ground and sprung right towards Fiashandra. With one smooth motion, Eric's sword took off like a lightning arc, and hammered right against Fiash's wrist. If all went as expected, she would likely jolt from the impact and drop her sword. The rest was follow up, and Eric also pulled no punches when immediately after the strike, his blade swung right over Fiash and crashed against her spine. Eric spun around, and with the added torque pitted the blade right against Fiash's ribs, intending on cracking them. Eric wasn't just a sword master. He was one of the quintessential artists of his age, if not every age. He had an unnatural talent for the art, and his swings rivalled the brush strokes of Picasso. Not to say Fiash would appreciate the beauty of his skill, no, she was probably pissed, but by the time Eric finished he no longer feigned weakness. He was still injured, but he was holding out against the pain. ”Computer, damage reset.” With a simple command, both of their wounds would heal, and Eric sighed. ”Well, I deceived you I guess. You should know better than to underestimate your enemy.” It didn't seem entirely right to claim any sort of prize when he just walloped her like that. Eric looked over his fencing gear and tensed his right arm before picking up his bag. If he was no longer welcome for a beating, then he may as well start heading out. |
| Elena Madison Teague | |
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| Pwny Express | Apr 25 2012, 11:02 PM Post #16 |
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Ow... owowowowow. Hardly even saw any of the attacks coming; first my wrist, then right in the middle of my back, followed by a strike to the ribs. I was down on a knee and my good hand before my body even registered the extent of the damages, the practice 'sword' dropping to the ground only a second or two before I fell. Really, I was just thankful they hadn't been real swords we were toying with, though it was doubtful I would have stuck to such things if it were a real fight. And I couldn't call it cheating either; I'd pulled out the big guns as well, probably only my fault that it went that far. Then again, I could have beaten him unconscious earlier, and had pulled that punch - not that it mattered, since it seemed the damage reverted on command. If I'd known that earlier I wouldn't have left here with all those bruises and muscle aches from those days when training wasn't quite as smooth as it normally was. At least I could breathe now. Stupid lesson or not, there was no way I was letting this go. I'd never been good with computers, so having one that could simulate just about anything... well, it was news to me. But if the pain was that real inside of here, and it could simulate anything... An idea formed in my head - a crazy one, but here'd be my only shot at this, and I sure as hell wasn't about to let some cocky asshole get the better of me like that. Without moving anything but my mouth I whispered under my breath 'Computer, beach,' quietly enough that it shouldn't have been heard unless Eric also had superhuman hearing as well, hoping the machine would come through. And it did; the area around me instantly shifted as the usual backdrop was replaced with a calm beachfront, sand and all - though bizarrely enough, the heavy bag still hung suspended in mid-air behind me. That didn't matter though, as I used the hand that was still supporting me to grab a fistful of the grainy matter, rolling the hand around as the other, now not-injured hand moved to push me up. Without any warning given, (well, except for the change in scenery), I launched off the ground in a low run, both fists ready to bring on more pain - though with a bit of sand leaking out of one. Getting as close to Eric as I dared with that gear in hand, I waited until the last moment before flinging the sand grains out in a wide arch in front of me, effectively making a screen out of them. If it worked, he'd get a face full of sand, some of it going right into his eyes, but even if he didn't face me it might be reflex to shut his eyes. I wasn't stupid enough to go for a straight strike; turn a little, I took with a left-sided hook, aiming for his ribs again. It was desperate, sure, but I didn't have anymore than four, maybe five minutes left before I exhausted myself for the day, so anything was better than admitting outright defeat - even if this didn't work as well as I planned. |
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Rane's* Soundtrack Leader: Bush - "Sound of Winter" *Rane's | |
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| RFalque | Apr 26 2012, 01:00 AM Post #17 |
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God-Emperor of all Belugas
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Eric never did take his eyes off Fiashandra. Not necessarily because she was hot and worth the look over, but after making a statement of never underestimating your opponent it would be unwise to simply turn your back. Eric did so, however the gesture was little more than bait to let Fiash try and get in one more shot on him. Eric was fully ready to take her own and beat her back down if she tried anything funny. Unfortunately, he didn't realize she'd try something so drastic. He couldn't hear Fiash say the words, but when the chamber melted away into a picturesque and sunny coast, and when Fiash herself started to stand up and charge with a full load of sand in one hand, Eric knew he was in trouble. He threw his fencing bag aside and took a stance, not even bothering to try and trick Fiash into thinking he didn't know what was going on. Still, he didn't turn around. He could tell she had a pile of sand in her hand, and if he got any of that in his eyes he'd be thoroughly screwed. Predictably, Fiashandra threw the sand right at him, and instead of turning around Eric sprinted away from the throw and tried to run towards the water. He didn't want to fight Fiash, not in the sand anyway. His superior eyesight was his best weapon, and it would be much easier to cope with his feet in the water than with sand being kicked in his face. Not to mention the sand at the water would only be good for making Eric dirty, being too heavy to kick around haphazardly. ”What the hell? You won't stop 'til I'm dead or something?” As Fiash got too close, Eric pivoted around and lashed out his sword in hopes to give himself a little more space. It didn't really matter if he hit Fiash, he was done trying to beat her up. Still, he also needed to be careful not to have Fiash grab his weapon and take it from him. Without it, he'd be in a load of trouble. |
| Elena Madison Teague | |
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| Pwny Express | Jul 21 2012, 11:40 PM Post #18 |
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**first post in for-frakkin'-ever @___@ whoo. sorry if my descript of Eric is off... not sure what he's wearing** Good, he was on the run. No doubt he expected things to keep going like this; well, that was going to change soon enough. Hell, he even panicked, throwing his arm back and around in hopes of throwing me off. Unfortunately for him, I was accustomed to pain, and apparently running away from somebody with a sword in hand made it less practical than running after somebody with one. Nevermind that it wasn't even a real one - the worst it would do was leave a bruise behind, and I had plenty of those. Granted, I had to nab him before he got too far away, or he'd outpaced me - which wouldn't be too hard, considering I wasn't exactly in the best shape to begin with and had never been much for running anyhow. Instead of ducking or backing away, I held an arm up when I saw the blow coming, and leaned into the strike, stretching out the nearest hand to grab for the hand holding the fake blade as it came at me. Yeah, it hurt quite a bit, but the move was wild and uncoordinated. On my current path, that wild swing Eric was sending at me would land right across the upper section of ribs on my side, but as far as I was concerned, it was nearly inconsequential. Whether or not I grabbed him or if he pulled back before I could get hold of his hand, wrist, arm, or even the fake sword itself, the move would put him off-balance, and it could be enough for me to gain on him, or at the very least trip him up and make him fall on himself. If I did manage to grab something, though - even the sleeve cuff of that ridiculous suit he had on - it'd be over in a heartbeat, unless he was hiding super-strength somewhere in there as well. Edited by Pwny Express, Jul 22 2012, 05:30 AM.
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Rane's* Soundtrack Leader: Bush - "Sound of Winter" *Rane's | |
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| RFalque | Jul 22 2012, 09:16 AM Post #19 |
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God-Emperor of all Belugas
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Shit, she was fast. Worse yet, she was bold. Eric was not pleased the moment he realized Fiash decided to just absorb the blow, and though he tried his hardest to let her feel it, he must have overdid it on himself. He was not able to correct his position, and Fiash grabbed his blade quite neatly and soon enough was going for his arm. Eric was still tumbling backwards, trying to put distance between himself and Fiash until he could make it to the water. But as Fiash continued to charge forward, she overtook Eric and the boy fell backwards. Fiash now had his arm, as well as his sword, and Eric was already on his knees in the sand. There was no realization of her victory just yet, but Eric could tell with his own eyes that the sparring was over. She could easily knee him in the face, or just pound on him until he couldn't move. With one arm in her grip and his knees collapsed, the only thing Eric could do was surrender. Well, not exactly. Eric was starting to fall backwards, acting as if he had completely toppled over himself. It wasn't the case, however. His free hand hit the sand, and his fingers curled into a fist in the sand. As quickly as Eric could, he swung his left hand up and released the sand straight into Fiash's face. If he was lucky, she'd at least loosen if not release her grip and Eric could scramble towards the water where his ATRFs would let him stand on it. |
| Elena Madison Teague | |
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| Pwny Express | Jul 22 2012, 10:19 PM Post #20 |
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Well hell, it worked. Off-balance and stumbling, he went down in an almost-comical fashion. However, I hadn't quite planned things out anywhere beyond that; I tried to plant my feet, but instead started wavering forward as well. And before I could fully stop myself, the bastard flung a wad of sand at my face! Of all the nerve! Well that was that, at least. I let go of the blade - no way even his tricky little arse would be able to use it with my other hand on his arm, since it wouldn't cut or anything - but clamped down harder with my occupied hand with all the force I could muster while my now-freed hand covered my face as best I could. Though I didn't have the strength to crush said limb to powder, it would leave some dark bruises for a few days if he didn't get it checked out afterwards. It also sent a very simple message, one that consisted of 'I'm done fooling around.' Didn't help with the sand in my face; with one final spastic kick in his direction (I don't even know how strong it was, given how preoccupied I had been at the moment trying to spit and scrape the grains out of my mouth and eyes), I tossed the limb aside, bending over a few paces away spitting and cursing in several languages at once as I tried to wipe my eyes clean...er...ish. Apparently, the computer finally took the cue and the beach faded away, along with the itching, burning feeling in my eyes and the nasty taste in my mouth for the most part. By now I didn't even care if he ran or not, mostly because all that pent-up anger and whatnot was expended during the last scuffle. Well, if he wanted me to stop fighting, then he got his wish. Just as long as whatever he had planned wasn't too outlandish I might actually go along. Of course, I was just as liable to just ignore him - or go back to full-rage mode, but that was less likely, since I was pretty winded as it was. |
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Rane's* Soundtrack Leader: Bush - "Sound of Winter" *Rane's | |
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| RFalque | Jul 23 2012, 07:07 AM Post #21 |
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God-Emperor of all Belugas
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It certainly didn't seem like much, but Eric would take whatever advantage he could get in getting away from Fiashandra. Just as he hoped, she let go of his sword but not his sword arm. Eric tried to pull away, scrambling from both her grip as well as her wild kicks against the sand. She did get him once, hard in the ribs that nearly cracked them. He'd feel the bruise soon enough, once the adrenaline wore away. However, to his fortune, Fiash eventually relinquishedd Eric and the boy scrambled towards the water. But in that same moment, the beach vanished. Fiash and Eric were back in the bushido chambers, and Eric thought that Fiash looked she was done with fighting. He kept his distance of course, expecting a possible sucker punch once he got too close. He wanted to make peace (well, and something else) with her, and while not gloating would be a good start, giving her some personal space would probably also beneift. Eric rubbed the back of his neck, stowing his wooden sword in its bag. He looked back to Fiash and noticed the sand was also out of her eyes now. "Hey uh...sorry. My mouth got carried away. I'm surprised, though. I thought you'd have kept it up and kicked my ass for sure." Eric didn't expect Fiash to just...stop everything so suddenly. Not that he wasn't thankful about escaping a beating, but he did feel like he deserved it after throwing sand in her eyes. Not necessarily for the sand throwing, but just everything else. "So, how about drinks at my place? Or well...I don't do alcohol, but maybe some coffee?" Eric gave Fiash a small smile, tilting his head. He'd understand if she turned him down. Or decided to chase him across the campus. |
| Elena Madison Teague | |
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| Pwny Express | Jul 24 2012, 06:06 PM Post #22 |
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Despite the fact that the virtual sand or whatever it was happened to be well and gone, it took a minute before I could even begin to see straight again. Phantom pains still sheered through my head, warning me of things that were non-existent anymore, and irritating me to no end. I only mildly indulged myself with listening to Eric's suggestion - and in all reality I had every right just to ignore him and walk out of there. But a bet was a bet, and I'd lost to some degree; that wasn't something I turned my back on, no matter how poorly I'd done. "Feh," I waved off the interpretation of my last act, giving my brain a moment to catch up while I finished blinking and rubbing imaginary grains from my eyes. "Lost interest. Kinda lose the fun when the person your fighting is desperate enough to turn your own tricks on ya." A couple shakes of the head later, and I was back to feeling more like myself, sans waking up hung over in the back alley of a bar in the middle of nowhere feeling sore all over. Long story, maybe some other time. His next suggestion made me shake my head a bit slower, laughing coarsely under my breath. "If this is what I think it is, it's a wonder you've ever gotten laid. Let's start at the cafe and go from there; I'm still deciding whether to pound your face, or... something else. Be there in half an hour or so, or I'll be disappointed." I'd leave his imagination to wonder what 'something else' was for the time being. So what if he beat me with a few tricks; that didn't prove jack shit, especially whether he could handle what I was going to give. Though I'm not much for talking, that doesn't mean I can't be civil - I'm just not as good at sitting down for tea and cakes as I am at knocking teeth out and making lots of noise. Besides, if he wasn't getting drinks, then someone had to. Screw the Campuses' policy; I was legal-age, and I wanted something stiff to wake me up after this little scrap. Nevermind Mother's disapproval, 'cause I'd get booze one way or another. Now the only question was, what kind? Whiskey sounded good, but straight vodka would probably be easier to sneak in. |
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Rane's* Soundtrack Leader: Bush - "Sound of Winter" *Rane's | |
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| RFalque | Jul 25 2012, 09:31 AM Post #23 |
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God-Emperor of all Belugas
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Eric crossed his arms, studying Fiash. She seemed less than amused about his own attack with the sand. He shook his head and scoffed, "Likewise." He didn't see the logic in that she was allowed to huck sand at his face, but not him. Yeah, he thought it was underhanded, but she started it. But it didn't matter much anymore. He 'won', sort of. As in he got time to hang out with Fiash and, if he was lucky and a bit less stupid about his approach, seduce her. He didn't comment about getting laid. Maybe it really was a surprise, but he did quite frequently. Somehow. It didn't even sound like Fiash was completely convinced he was worthless. She wanted to punch him, sure. But everyone wanted to punch him, he was used to that. It was the 'something else' that caught his attention and curiosity. "Wouldn't miss it." Eric smiled slightly and watched Fiash leave the chamber, his eyes lingering on her butt. Well, thirty minutes was enough time to have a quick change of clothes and shower. Eric stretched his arms up over his head and grinned, feeling the little painkiller endorphins rush through his stiff muscles as he released. He happily picked up his gym bag and strolled out of the Chamber. It'd be nice to have a simple date anyway, even if he didn't manage to drag her back to his place. For once, Eric decided not to dress up in a suit. He wasn't used to going out in just a simple button shirt and jeans, but it was mighty comfortable anyway. His hair was the same slicked back style, however. After a half an hour, maybe a few minutes late, he entered Enso Café and looked around for Fiash. She was sitting alone at her own table, maybe having scowled any would-be neighbors away from the table. Eric quietly sat down in front of her, his eyes looking over her smooth copper skin tagged with scars. "I was wondering," Eric spoke up, his eyes still lingering on her neck, "How come you've never bothered to remove those scars? Do you keep them around for something?" If she hesitated to answer, or if it was short, he'd follow up. "And uh, did you want me to get you something? I can buy." |
| Elena Madison Teague | |
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| Pwny Express | Jul 25 2012, 06:28 PM Post #24 |
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When he finally showed, I was dressed in my usual attire; brown leather pleated skirt that fell clear to my ankles with a small flap in the back, the more-recently acquired brown vest (which happened to have more pocket space than I expected) over a plain white T, and the checkered bandanna, along with the usual fingerless gloves. It definitely looked a bit odd, but was comfortable, partially because it carried more weight than the training outfit I had on earlier. Plus it was somewhat more conservative than the previously-stated get-up, which helped keep the stares down a bit. I took note of the attire he wore - certainly beat that silly monkey suit he had on before. His first question, however, raised an eyebrow almost immediately. Eric seemed to have a way with words; namely, in making himself out to be a complete imbecile with them. Of course I could already tell what he was staring at. Still, he was competent as a fighter, albeit not very good at improvising. I have to admire a man who doesn't skip around the obvious, but there is a limit even to that. "Do you always point out the blatantly obvious?" I retorted, a hint of light sarcasm creeping in beind a lack of outrage. His other question was answered simply enough when I raised the glass I already had, which smelled something like strong coffee - and something added. Maybe he could make good with that offer on the next round. One finger touched the scar clefting my lip almost in two as I mused a moment over what would have been an offensive question for most anyone else. "Too much trouble, really. I'd just get more before too long anyhow. Also... I have to scare off the weaklings somehow, and nothing does the trick quite like a few scars in obvious places." Taking a sip, a sigh escaped my lips as I set the drink back onto the coaster provided. Leaning on the tabletop with one arm holding my head, I inquired "So, do you always spar with the ladies before asking them out? Or was this just a special case?" Giving a sly smile before reassuming a bored, non-threatening look, I let him mull over whatever answer he would give while taking another sip of the elixer. Vodka was a good choice for the moment, definitely. |
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Rane's* Soundtrack Leader: Bush - "Sound of Winter" *Rane's | |
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| RFalque | Jul 25 2012, 08:03 PM Post #25 |
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God-Emperor of all Belugas
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Well, she certainly didn’t let off the hot temper since he last saw her, though Eric wondered if she was being just a hint playful with her choice of words. Eric, in large part, was a bit confused over her accusation. He couldn’t help but feel indignant, and he did retort with a narrowed gaze in his eyes, ”Oh, come on. I didn’t ask about them in the Chamber.” He sighed and shrugged, rolling his head as well as his eyes around to give them some exercise. Or at least, just the neck. Eric leaned back as Fiash indicated she had what she wanted. Eric would probably grab something for himself later, maybe. Before he could go anywhere, Fiash started about her reasoning. It sounded a bit like Andreja in all honesty. Just couldn’t be bothered, and she’d inevitably end up with more as time passed. Maybe they really did start to grow on people after a while. Eric didn’t think he could manage on, at least not on somewhere where most people could see. ”If you say so. My brother could do it in under an hour though, easy. No magic involved either.” Well, he may as well pay some respects to the ridiculous surgeon that was his brother. The man could make just about any miracle happen under the knife, probably cure every kind of cancer out there if he really set to it. Scars? Simple deal. Fiash changed the subject though, one to something a little more general, ”I guess not.” Eric leaned his elbow on the table and propped his head with his hand. He smiled at Fiash, ”You remind me a lot of someone else though. Scarred, could pack a huge punch, vicious...I didn’t exactly ask her out, but...” Eric smelled something. A smell he didn’t quite enjoy. Ah, shit. She was drinking alcohol wasn’t she? Oh well. Eric would manage. The wrinkle in his face was gone in a moment, and he followed up with a question of his own, ”And how many losers like me do you actually put up with like this?” |
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