[LOG] New Sparring Partners
Who: Dilandau Albatou and Howard Link
When: Slight back-log. Wednesday of Loveless Week
Where: Biodome
Summary: Allen has escaped once again and Link is frustrated. Dilandau just happens to wander by to offer some relief not that kind you perverts.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Vague descriptions of fighting.
Link paused for few moments in his routine, drawing back from his substitute punching bag (in this case, a tree in one of the far corners of the biodome) to remove and then re-wrap the bits of cloth he'd wound around his knuckles, frowning a bit at where the skin had turned an angry red. Simple cloth was no substitute for proper gloves, of course, but his normal uniform pair were entirely inappropriate for this sort of thing anyway. What he needed was a pair of sturdy leather ones, but it wasn't as if he did this sort of thing very often.
It had been... a very long time since he'd done this. Not once since his assignment to shadow Allen Walker, and rarely even before that. It had been a far more common occurrence when he was younger (if one thought nineteen was particularly old) and less in control of his temper. A man in his line of work could not be allowed to easily lose himself to emotions, and a work out like this would help Link to keep himself in line. That perfect control he was supposed to have was something that the Inspector knew he still lacked at times, and it was just another frustration on top of all his current ones.
Link took up his stance again and loosed a barrage of punches, miming blocks and parries as if working with an invisible partner and letting out small grunts of effort as he poured his anger into the unlucky tree. He shouldn't be here right now. Allen had managed to continue eluding him in spite of the inspector's best efforts, even after three rounds of scouring the facility. After his and Kanda's stunt over the system earlier and Allen's tiresome running afterwards, not to mention the previous week and frustrations and worry the new one had brought...
Link needed some relief before he began his search again.
Link's efforts in fighting off the tree had not gone unnoticed, despite the remoteness of his location. Dilandau Albatou, in the middle of one of his near endless training circuits, had stopped by the wall of the dome to observe the stiffly-dressed man take out a large amount of frustration.
Judging by the blonde's appendages, Dilandau assumed at least part of that frustration was sexual. Not that it mattered to him if this idiot was too uptight or pathetic to find an alternate release that didn't involve bloodying his knuckles on an inanimate object. The only thing that mattered to him was that the little man didn't appear to be using any freaky witchcraft during his practice, and that he looked like he was in the perfect mood for a bit of proper fighting.
Dilandau didn't believe in calm, orderly fist fights. No, you'd never get a feel for battle with that, in his opinion. Better to let your emotions rise to the top and use them, revelling in the blood and the blows and riding past the pain on a wave of adrenaline until you'd proven yourself the best. For that reason he wiped the sweat from under his diadem, put on his cockiest grin and called out.
"Hey, Virgin! Too scared to take on a real opponent when you train?"
Link stiffened at the sudden voice and turned, pulling away from the bruised tree. Of course, it had to be him... Albatou if he remembered the name correctly. A rude boy, but no one worth losing his temper over.
Not yet anyway, though that could change if the other continued he harassment of Allen Walker. The boy's tiresome shenanigans aside, it wasn't something the inspector would tolerate if the threats moved beyond the realm of verbal.
"No," he replied after a moment of hesitation, unsure if he should bother answering in the first place. "I've yet to find an appropriate sparring partner." Sure, there were people he could ask who would probably be more than happy to oblige, but just because they were willing didn't mean it would be wise. Allen was out of the question, of course, Kanda... was more likely to try and gut him before the match was over than anything else, and most of the others who might accept were (as much as he hated to admit it) out of his league.
Dilandau rolled his eyes at the calm answer. Boring. But it was too late for the little man, Link, Chain, whatever his name was, to hide the temper underneath. That temper was just what Dilandau needed.
"So you need a sparring partner?" He repeated, sauntering over, straightening his metal-backed gloves. "How convenient. I was just thinking about how I haven't had someone to hit for too long." He paused his stride, just out of striking reach, gazing cooly down on the other, assessing how much of a sweat he was most likely going to break into.
Short. Short arms, stubby legs, all in all, built well below the average height. His clothes would offer little protection to blows and that hair would make a convenient handhold at the back. He had moved fast in his training, though, and the tail hadn't appeared to hamper him, despite being a new addition. Obviously the man was toned underneath that boring garb, and he had been training for an extended period of time. If he landed a blow, he might even cause Dilandau pain, despite the leather encasing him.
Dilandau considered removing his armoured jacket for a brief moment, just to even things up a bit, but decided against it. What sort of man was the stiff person in front of him? Was he one of those noble fools, who'd let his pride stop him from demanding Dilandau disrobe, or was he the practical sort who knew honour was optional if it lessened your chances of success?
Hmm, an offer to spar. Link's ears perked up a bit, obviously interested. It was something he needed, had been hoping for (again, not that it was something he'd admit to), but had restrained himself from seeking out out for the sake of propriety... but if this boy was offering, cocky as he was...
He looked the other up and down appraisingly, attempting to gauge what kind of a challenge he would provide. That armor could prove slightly problematic, but it wouldn't be impossible to get through, and the way he held himself told of someone not particularly... composed. He'd seen this one lose his temper before, and it would likely prove to be an advantage for the inspector.
"I accept," Link replied as if a formal request had been presented rather than an offer to be beat upon. He'd never seen Dilandau fight outside what the boy could do with that large machine he'd been granted in Hope's End, but he was confident enough in himself for it not to matter. He stepped away from his tree and removed his vest, folding it neatly and setting it off to one side before straightening the wraps on his knuckles once more. "When you're ready," he said, fluffy tail twitching behind him.
Dilandau's face stretched into a predator's grin as he leapt forward without hesitation, jabbing at the Inspector's face. The speed at which the other avoided made Dilandau's grin stretch wider in anticipation of a good fight. He threw another punch with his left hand, trying to take advantage of the momentary focus on his right.
Link dodged backwards again, a frown of concentration etched on his face. This boy was quick, quick enough that the inspector could only barely dodge the second blow. He'd have to be careful, especially if the fight continued this way. Dilandau didn't seem the type to bother carefully engaging his opponent, looking for weaknesses to exploit. He'd charge in without thinking, and while that could prove advantageous should the other slip up, it also made him unpredictable.
Link set himself in a firm stance before quickly dropping low, one leg swinging out in an attempt to sweep Dilandau's feet out from under him.
Dilandau, too, found that Link was moving quick enough that he barely had time to leap over that sweeping leg, throwing himself backwards into a tumble that only years of practice allowed him to do in his armour. He was upright quickly, shaking his long fringe out of his eyes before Link could land another blow.
Link rose from his crouching position, eyes betraying just a slight appreciation for his opponent's skill. Brash and arrogant as he could be, it seemed so far that they were a fair match up. Brushing his own bangs from his eyes in an unconscious mirror of the other man, he charged forward, the barest of smiles lifting the edges of his lips.
The blows Link was throwing were hard enough to jar Dilandau's arms as he deflected them, even with the reinforced outer arms of his jacket. He was stepping back because of the blows, something which made him scowl as his anger began to bubble. Dilandau Albatou retreated before no man! When Link launched the next blow Dilandau deliberately opened his defences, grabbing Link's wrist as the fist went for his chest, yanking at the other man's arm to try pull him off balance.
Link's eyes narrowed a bit. He hadn't seen that coming, and he stumbled to the side a bit as he tried to regain his balance before he could fall. He chastised himself a bit inwardly. He was obviously out of practice if he was allowing this to happen. A split second and one quick glance over his opponent later had Link wrenching his body in the opposite direction, putting his feet back on the ground and his fist solidly in Dilandau's armor-free gut.
Dilandau coughed, his eyes bulging slightly at the force of the blow. Even with the leather, that was going to leave a bruise. He shoved back on the trapped hand, spinning to one side to open up a little space as he caught his breath. His face was flushed slightly from the surprise as his eyes narrowed once more and he launched his own attack.
Link backpedaled with Dilandau's attack, taking a hard blow to the cheek before he managed to recover. Throwing his arms in front of him to try and deflect further punches. He was impressed with the power the other was putting into his blows. Similar to himself, but the inspector wasn't used to dealing with anyone of his level that didn't have the added advantage of Innocence or some other mystical ability. It was almost refreshing.
Dilandau was enjoying himself, his scar stretched from his slightly manic grin as he fought. The inspector was fast, but Dilandau was getting into the rhythm of the fight now, of the way the other man made his decisions. He aimed to hit Link's forearms, rather than going for a body blow, hoping to crack a bone.
But that wasn't bone his fists were hitting. His eyes narrowed.
"Hey, wait a second, what's under your sleeves?" Dilandau demanded, stepping back a pace, his arms held ready in case of another attack.
Link took a pace back as well, breathing just a little heavily as he reached down to unbutton his sleeves. He normally didn't reveal his weapons to others (because what was the point of a hidden weapon that everyone knew about?) but he figured that he owed Dilandau the explanation since the other man had agreed to spar with him. He had not planned on using the blades, of course. That wouldn't be very sporting of him.
The white fabric was rolled back to reveal two large matching switchblades, both strapped his his arms with leather buckles. He lifted one arm in the air in front of him where his opponent could see them properly. They weren't as impressive as his normal weapons, but they were the best that Alphonse had been able to provide considering their resources.
Dilandau looked at the blades, his eyes quickly taking in the mechanisms attached to the ends. Spring knives in the sleeves. He smirked in appreciation.
"Hidden weapons? You're full of surprises, aren't you?" Dilandau said, chuckling. "To think, when I first talked to you I thought you were boring. When were you planning to stick me with them?"
"I wasn't," he replied calmly, pulling his sleeves back down and refastening the buttons. "They're not necessary for this, especially when you have no weapons of your own." None that the inspector could see anyway. Of course, it was always possible that Dilandau had hidden weapons of his own, but he doubted it. Not when he'd seen the man waving broken pool cues about not too long ago.
Dilandau stretched as Link adjusted his clothing, testing the soreness of his stomach from the earlier blow. He was tempted to unbuckle his jacket to have a quick look, but he knew revealing his injuries to an opponent would only encourage them.
As soon as the last button was done up, Dilandau attacked. He'd gotten enough of a feel of the Inspector's abilities to know the man wouldn't fall immediately, so he didn't hold back, yelling happily as his fists darted out.
Link frowned again as Dilandau charged forward. Very rude, this one, but that was nothing he hadn't already ascertained from their few exchanges over the system, as well as his exchanges with others. He used the hidden blades to his advantage once more, fending off blow after blow with them (he'd be bruised where the metal kept slamming into his skin, he was sure), not quite able to pull away from the other's quick attacks far enough to launch his own. He needed some space to move.
The inspector pulled his feet together and crouched slightly before suddenly springing over his opponent's head, landing nimbly about ten feet behind him and setting his stance again.
Dilandau almost fell as his blow hit empty air, and he whirled, his jaw dropping as he saw how far Link had landed.
"What are you, part cat?!" He yelped, remembering the cat-women he'd known and the distances they could leap. Apart from the eyes and the lack of facial hair, Dilandau's opponent could have passed for one of that race. He had the balance of a cat.
Link couldn't help but smirk a bit. His new appendages did nothing to negate the feline idea, but it didn't matter. His ears tilted part-way back and his tail lashed unconsciously back and forth behind him as he took advantage of Dilandau's moment of shock to take a deep breath, muscles relaxing in an odd way for someone engaged in his current activity.
"No," he replied, a strange grin creeping over his face. Something that very few ever got to see from the inspector. "I'm a Crow." And with that he dashed forward again, all swinging fists and whirling feet aimed in Dilandau's direction.
It took all of Dilandau's skill to fend off the kicks and punches, and even then a few escaped through his defences to hit the less armoured parts. Whatever Link meant by 'a Crow', it wasn't some pansy, useless organisation. The hard rush of adrenaline was having it's usual effect on Dilandau, turning his breathing into a quick, cackling laughter as he moved and darted and looked for any opening in the flurry of limbs flying at him.
When the opening came he didn't hesitate, twisting so the the foot coming for him grazed his chest, his hand darting out and clutching at the flapping braid. He yanked as he recoiled from the kick.
... That braid would be the end of him, Link was sure. Never before had he had such a problem with it, but it seemed that in his time here it had somehow become a flashing target that every opponent so far had taken advantage of.
Link felt the pull before he realized just what it was, he was so caught up in his flurry of attacks. His head was wrenched to one side and he fell with a grunt, hitting the ground hard on one knee and elbow and leaving himself far more open than he would ever normally allow.
Dilandau took advantage, crashing his armoured weight on top of the smaller Inspector, making sure to land elbows first. This was what he liked, a rough and dirty brawl, rolling around and biting and kicking until the other person was a bloody mess. Though usually when he took part in such fights, it was on a tavern floor after he'd had a few bottles of vino. Still, beggars couldn't be choosers and Dilandau didn't hold back.
Link coughed harshly, wheezing a bit as he took the hit. This wouldn't do, scrabbling about on the ground, like this... but part of him didn't have a problem with it. The part of him that was lugging around the built up frustrations of this place and his duties and... everything else.
Drawing one leg up towards his chest, he kicked out with one spatted foot, aiming to knock the other man off of him so that he could try to get to his feet.
The kick hit Dilandau solidly in the ribs, enough to make him cough, but the angle and closeness was enough Link couldn't get any proper force behind it. After seeing him jump, Dilandau was glad for that and planned not to let him land a proper kick. Any legs capable of springing like that could probably shatter bones. The blow had taken away some of his advantage, but he did his best to make sure that the Inspector was unable to escape by keeping up a flurry of blows.
A small annoyed sound escaped Link's throat when his kick didn't work out quite as planned. This shouldn't be as difficult as it was proving to be. This wasn't like any spar he'd ever participated in before. It was turning into something closer to the brawls Kanda and Allen had so often. Inappropriate for a man of his rank and stature, but-... Link growled a little, a particularly viscous punch catching him in the ribs.
Fine, if this was how he wanted it to be, then so be it. The inspector rolled over on the ground, blocking strikes with one hand and loosing his own with the other, aiming to roll his opponent right off of him.
More of Link's strikes were hitting as Dilandau's advantage was lessened, though he still kept up his onslaught. A strike to his face, though, got far too near to landing for his comfort, so rather than strike again he pushed away, quickly putting some distance between them for another round off of the ground.
He stopped on his knees, glaring at his opponent, looking irritated as he wiped the sweat that was dripping from under his diadem. He'd have to spend a good long time in the shower to wash the grass and dirt from his hair, he was sure, and polishing all his armour would take most of the evening. He flexed his tried fists, rose to his feet and took position.
Link took the opportunity presented to him and rose as well, eyes narrowing as the bruises now scattered over him twinged at the movement. He was sweating and his normally pristine shirt was covered in patches of dirt and vegetation, his braid close to falling out. He was messy and his adrenaline was pumping... and it was the best he'd felt in quite some time.
Straightening up, he took in his opponent's state as well. If they continued like this, someone was going to come out of it bloody. "Perhaps now would be a good time to pause," he suggested, brushing wet bangs away from his face. He needed a shower, and Walker was still on the loose.
Dilandau sucked in a deep breath, ready to proclaim that he was willing to battle until Link was begging, but another drop of sweat rolled into his eyes, stinging. With a growl he tugged a glove off with his teeth and removed the gold band, wiping his forehead with his bare hand.
"If you're finding yourself flagging, I suppose I can let you off." He replied. "You managed a decent enough fight." Truthfully, it had been one of the best spars Dilandau had been in for a very long time. It was rare for him to find his match. He replaced his diadem.
"I'll let you keep training against me, too. Not everyone would be allowed that, so be mindful of the honour I'm paying you." Even dirtied with sweat-limp hair, Dilandau managed to look cocky.
Link resisted the urge to roll his eyes, annoyed at the other's very apparent superiority complex. Dilandau was obviously in the same shape he was, if not worse. Part of him wanted to continue their spar just to wipe that look off his opponent's face...
But it seemed that Dilandau had rubbed off on him a bit in the short time they'd spent fighting. That was not acceptable.
The inspector composed himself carefully and nodded, tugging lightly at the cloth still wrapped loosely around his knuckles and beginning the process of gathering himself together for the trip back to suite three. Another spar with Dilandau... the man was rude, uncouth,entirely inappropriate... but he'd make a good sparring partner. Assuming he didn't try to stab Link in the back the next time he turned around.
With a silent nod of agreement, the pair took a few, casual steps out of arms reach and turned their backs, heading their own ways.
When: Slight back-log. Wednesday of Loveless Week
Where: Biodome
Summary: Allen has escaped once again and Link is frustrated. Dilandau just happens to wander by to offer some relief not that kind you perverts.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Vague descriptions of fighting.
Link paused for few moments in his routine, drawing back from his substitute punching bag (in this case, a tree in one of the far corners of the biodome) to remove and then re-wrap the bits of cloth he'd wound around his knuckles, frowning a bit at where the skin had turned an angry red. Simple cloth was no substitute for proper gloves, of course, but his normal uniform pair were entirely inappropriate for this sort of thing anyway. What he needed was a pair of sturdy leather ones, but it wasn't as if he did this sort of thing very often.
It had been... a very long time since he'd done this. Not once since his assignment to shadow Allen Walker, and rarely even before that. It had been a far more common occurrence when he was younger (if one thought nineteen was particularly old) and less in control of his temper. A man in his line of work could not be allowed to easily lose himself to emotions, and a work out like this would help Link to keep himself in line. That perfect control he was supposed to have was something that the Inspector knew he still lacked at times, and it was just another frustration on top of all his current ones.
Link took up his stance again and loosed a barrage of punches, miming blocks and parries as if working with an invisible partner and letting out small grunts of effort as he poured his anger into the unlucky tree. He shouldn't be here right now. Allen had managed to continue eluding him in spite of the inspector's best efforts, even after three rounds of scouring the facility. After his and Kanda's stunt over the system earlier and Allen's tiresome running afterwards, not to mention the previous week and frustrations and worry the new one had brought...
Link needed some relief before he began his search again.
Link's efforts in fighting off the tree had not gone unnoticed, despite the remoteness of his location. Dilandau Albatou, in the middle of one of his near endless training circuits, had stopped by the wall of the dome to observe the stiffly-dressed man take out a large amount of frustration.
Judging by the blonde's appendages, Dilandau assumed at least part of that frustration was sexual. Not that it mattered to him if this idiot was too uptight or pathetic to find an alternate release that didn't involve bloodying his knuckles on an inanimate object. The only thing that mattered to him was that the little man didn't appear to be using any freaky witchcraft during his practice, and that he looked like he was in the perfect mood for a bit of proper fighting.
Dilandau didn't believe in calm, orderly fist fights. No, you'd never get a feel for battle with that, in his opinion. Better to let your emotions rise to the top and use them, revelling in the blood and the blows and riding past the pain on a wave of adrenaline until you'd proven yourself the best. For that reason he wiped the sweat from under his diadem, put on his cockiest grin and called out.
"Hey, Virgin! Too scared to take on a real opponent when you train?"
Link stiffened at the sudden voice and turned, pulling away from the bruised tree. Of course, it had to be him... Albatou if he remembered the name correctly. A rude boy, but no one worth losing his temper over.
Not yet anyway, though that could change if the other continued he harassment of Allen Walker. The boy's tiresome shenanigans aside, it wasn't something the inspector would tolerate if the threats moved beyond the realm of verbal.
"No," he replied after a moment of hesitation, unsure if he should bother answering in the first place. "I've yet to find an appropriate sparring partner." Sure, there were people he could ask who would probably be more than happy to oblige, but just because they were willing didn't mean it would be wise. Allen was out of the question, of course, Kanda... was more likely to try and gut him before the match was over than anything else, and most of the others who might accept were (as much as he hated to admit it) out of his league.
Dilandau rolled his eyes at the calm answer. Boring. But it was too late for the little man, Link, Chain, whatever his name was, to hide the temper underneath. That temper was just what Dilandau needed.
"So you need a sparring partner?" He repeated, sauntering over, straightening his metal-backed gloves. "How convenient. I was just thinking about how I haven't had someone to hit for too long." He paused his stride, just out of striking reach, gazing cooly down on the other, assessing how much of a sweat he was most likely going to break into.
Short. Short arms, stubby legs, all in all, built well below the average height. His clothes would offer little protection to blows and that hair would make a convenient handhold at the back. He had moved fast in his training, though, and the tail hadn't appeared to hamper him, despite being a new addition. Obviously the man was toned underneath that boring garb, and he had been training for an extended period of time. If he landed a blow, he might even cause Dilandau pain, despite the leather encasing him.
Dilandau considered removing his armoured jacket for a brief moment, just to even things up a bit, but decided against it. What sort of man was the stiff person in front of him? Was he one of those noble fools, who'd let his pride stop him from demanding Dilandau disrobe, or was he the practical sort who knew honour was optional if it lessened your chances of success?
Hmm, an offer to spar. Link's ears perked up a bit, obviously interested. It was something he needed, had been hoping for (again, not that it was something he'd admit to), but had restrained himself from seeking out out for the sake of propriety... but if this boy was offering, cocky as he was...
He looked the other up and down appraisingly, attempting to gauge what kind of a challenge he would provide. That armor could prove slightly problematic, but it wouldn't be impossible to get through, and the way he held himself told of someone not particularly... composed. He'd seen this one lose his temper before, and it would likely prove to be an advantage for the inspector.
"I accept," Link replied as if a formal request had been presented rather than an offer to be beat upon. He'd never seen Dilandau fight outside what the boy could do with that large machine he'd been granted in Hope's End, but he was confident enough in himself for it not to matter. He stepped away from his tree and removed his vest, folding it neatly and setting it off to one side before straightening the wraps on his knuckles once more. "When you're ready," he said, fluffy tail twitching behind him.
Dilandau's face stretched into a predator's grin as he leapt forward without hesitation, jabbing at the Inspector's face. The speed at which the other avoided made Dilandau's grin stretch wider in anticipation of a good fight. He threw another punch with his left hand, trying to take advantage of the momentary focus on his right.
Link dodged backwards again, a frown of concentration etched on his face. This boy was quick, quick enough that the inspector could only barely dodge the second blow. He'd have to be careful, especially if the fight continued this way. Dilandau didn't seem the type to bother carefully engaging his opponent, looking for weaknesses to exploit. He'd charge in without thinking, and while that could prove advantageous should the other slip up, it also made him unpredictable.
Link set himself in a firm stance before quickly dropping low, one leg swinging out in an attempt to sweep Dilandau's feet out from under him.
Dilandau, too, found that Link was moving quick enough that he barely had time to leap over that sweeping leg, throwing himself backwards into a tumble that only years of practice allowed him to do in his armour. He was upright quickly, shaking his long fringe out of his eyes before Link could land another blow.
Link rose from his crouching position, eyes betraying just a slight appreciation for his opponent's skill. Brash and arrogant as he could be, it seemed so far that they were a fair match up. Brushing his own bangs from his eyes in an unconscious mirror of the other man, he charged forward, the barest of smiles lifting the edges of his lips.
The blows Link was throwing were hard enough to jar Dilandau's arms as he deflected them, even with the reinforced outer arms of his jacket. He was stepping back because of the blows, something which made him scowl as his anger began to bubble. Dilandau Albatou retreated before no man! When Link launched the next blow Dilandau deliberately opened his defences, grabbing Link's wrist as the fist went for his chest, yanking at the other man's arm to try pull him off balance.
Link's eyes narrowed a bit. He hadn't seen that coming, and he stumbled to the side a bit as he tried to regain his balance before he could fall. He chastised himself a bit inwardly. He was obviously out of practice if he was allowing this to happen. A split second and one quick glance over his opponent later had Link wrenching his body in the opposite direction, putting his feet back on the ground and his fist solidly in Dilandau's armor-free gut.
Dilandau coughed, his eyes bulging slightly at the force of the blow. Even with the leather, that was going to leave a bruise. He shoved back on the trapped hand, spinning to one side to open up a little space as he caught his breath. His face was flushed slightly from the surprise as his eyes narrowed once more and he launched his own attack.
Link backpedaled with Dilandau's attack, taking a hard blow to the cheek before he managed to recover. Throwing his arms in front of him to try and deflect further punches. He was impressed with the power the other was putting into his blows. Similar to himself, but the inspector wasn't used to dealing with anyone of his level that didn't have the added advantage of Innocence or some other mystical ability. It was almost refreshing.
Dilandau was enjoying himself, his scar stretched from his slightly manic grin as he fought. The inspector was fast, but Dilandau was getting into the rhythm of the fight now, of the way the other man made his decisions. He aimed to hit Link's forearms, rather than going for a body blow, hoping to crack a bone.
But that wasn't bone his fists were hitting. His eyes narrowed.
"Hey, wait a second, what's under your sleeves?" Dilandau demanded, stepping back a pace, his arms held ready in case of another attack.
Link took a pace back as well, breathing just a little heavily as he reached down to unbutton his sleeves. He normally didn't reveal his weapons to others (because what was the point of a hidden weapon that everyone knew about?) but he figured that he owed Dilandau the explanation since the other man had agreed to spar with him. He had not planned on using the blades, of course. That wouldn't be very sporting of him.
The white fabric was rolled back to reveal two large matching switchblades, both strapped his his arms with leather buckles. He lifted one arm in the air in front of him where his opponent could see them properly. They weren't as impressive as his normal weapons, but they were the best that Alphonse had been able to provide considering their resources.
Dilandau looked at the blades, his eyes quickly taking in the mechanisms attached to the ends. Spring knives in the sleeves. He smirked in appreciation.
"Hidden weapons? You're full of surprises, aren't you?" Dilandau said, chuckling. "To think, when I first talked to you I thought you were boring. When were you planning to stick me with them?"
"I wasn't," he replied calmly, pulling his sleeves back down and refastening the buttons. "They're not necessary for this, especially when you have no weapons of your own." None that the inspector could see anyway. Of course, it was always possible that Dilandau had hidden weapons of his own, but he doubted it. Not when he'd seen the man waving broken pool cues about not too long ago.
Dilandau stretched as Link adjusted his clothing, testing the soreness of his stomach from the earlier blow. He was tempted to unbuckle his jacket to have a quick look, but he knew revealing his injuries to an opponent would only encourage them.
As soon as the last button was done up, Dilandau attacked. He'd gotten enough of a feel of the Inspector's abilities to know the man wouldn't fall immediately, so he didn't hold back, yelling happily as his fists darted out.
Link frowned again as Dilandau charged forward. Very rude, this one, but that was nothing he hadn't already ascertained from their few exchanges over the system, as well as his exchanges with others. He used the hidden blades to his advantage once more, fending off blow after blow with them (he'd be bruised where the metal kept slamming into his skin, he was sure), not quite able to pull away from the other's quick attacks far enough to launch his own. He needed some space to move.
The inspector pulled his feet together and crouched slightly before suddenly springing over his opponent's head, landing nimbly about ten feet behind him and setting his stance again.
Dilandau almost fell as his blow hit empty air, and he whirled, his jaw dropping as he saw how far Link had landed.
"What are you, part cat?!" He yelped, remembering the cat-women he'd known and the distances they could leap. Apart from the eyes and the lack of facial hair, Dilandau's opponent could have passed for one of that race. He had the balance of a cat.
Link couldn't help but smirk a bit. His new appendages did nothing to negate the feline idea, but it didn't matter. His ears tilted part-way back and his tail lashed unconsciously back and forth behind him as he took advantage of Dilandau's moment of shock to take a deep breath, muscles relaxing in an odd way for someone engaged in his current activity.
"No," he replied, a strange grin creeping over his face. Something that very few ever got to see from the inspector. "I'm a Crow." And with that he dashed forward again, all swinging fists and whirling feet aimed in Dilandau's direction.
It took all of Dilandau's skill to fend off the kicks and punches, and even then a few escaped through his defences to hit the less armoured parts. Whatever Link meant by 'a Crow', it wasn't some pansy, useless organisation. The hard rush of adrenaline was having it's usual effect on Dilandau, turning his breathing into a quick, cackling laughter as he moved and darted and looked for any opening in the flurry of limbs flying at him.
When the opening came he didn't hesitate, twisting so the the foot coming for him grazed his chest, his hand darting out and clutching at the flapping braid. He yanked as he recoiled from the kick.
... That braid would be the end of him, Link was sure. Never before had he had such a problem with it, but it seemed that in his time here it had somehow become a flashing target that every opponent so far had taken advantage of.
Link felt the pull before he realized just what it was, he was so caught up in his flurry of attacks. His head was wrenched to one side and he fell with a grunt, hitting the ground hard on one knee and elbow and leaving himself far more open than he would ever normally allow.
Dilandau took advantage, crashing his armoured weight on top of the smaller Inspector, making sure to land elbows first. This was what he liked, a rough and dirty brawl, rolling around and biting and kicking until the other person was a bloody mess. Though usually when he took part in such fights, it was on a tavern floor after he'd had a few bottles of vino. Still, beggars couldn't be choosers and Dilandau didn't hold back.
Link coughed harshly, wheezing a bit as he took the hit. This wouldn't do, scrabbling about on the ground, like this... but part of him didn't have a problem with it. The part of him that was lugging around the built up frustrations of this place and his duties and... everything else.
Drawing one leg up towards his chest, he kicked out with one spatted foot, aiming to knock the other man off of him so that he could try to get to his feet.
The kick hit Dilandau solidly in the ribs, enough to make him cough, but the angle and closeness was enough Link couldn't get any proper force behind it. After seeing him jump, Dilandau was glad for that and planned not to let him land a proper kick. Any legs capable of springing like that could probably shatter bones. The blow had taken away some of his advantage, but he did his best to make sure that the Inspector was unable to escape by keeping up a flurry of blows.
A small annoyed sound escaped Link's throat when his kick didn't work out quite as planned. This shouldn't be as difficult as it was proving to be. This wasn't like any spar he'd ever participated in before. It was turning into something closer to the brawls Kanda and Allen had so often. Inappropriate for a man of his rank and stature, but-... Link growled a little, a particularly viscous punch catching him in the ribs.
Fine, if this was how he wanted it to be, then so be it. The inspector rolled over on the ground, blocking strikes with one hand and loosing his own with the other, aiming to roll his opponent right off of him.
More of Link's strikes were hitting as Dilandau's advantage was lessened, though he still kept up his onslaught. A strike to his face, though, got far too near to landing for his comfort, so rather than strike again he pushed away, quickly putting some distance between them for another round off of the ground.
He stopped on his knees, glaring at his opponent, looking irritated as he wiped the sweat that was dripping from under his diadem. He'd have to spend a good long time in the shower to wash the grass and dirt from his hair, he was sure, and polishing all his armour would take most of the evening. He flexed his tried fists, rose to his feet and took position.
Link took the opportunity presented to him and rose as well, eyes narrowing as the bruises now scattered over him twinged at the movement. He was sweating and his normally pristine shirt was covered in patches of dirt and vegetation, his braid close to falling out. He was messy and his adrenaline was pumping... and it was the best he'd felt in quite some time.
Straightening up, he took in his opponent's state as well. If they continued like this, someone was going to come out of it bloody. "Perhaps now would be a good time to pause," he suggested, brushing wet bangs away from his face. He needed a shower, and Walker was still on the loose.
Dilandau sucked in a deep breath, ready to proclaim that he was willing to battle until Link was begging, but another drop of sweat rolled into his eyes, stinging. With a growl he tugged a glove off with his teeth and removed the gold band, wiping his forehead with his bare hand.
"If you're finding yourself flagging, I suppose I can let you off." He replied. "You managed a decent enough fight." Truthfully, it had been one of the best spars Dilandau had been in for a very long time. It was rare for him to find his match. He replaced his diadem.
"I'll let you keep training against me, too. Not everyone would be allowed that, so be mindful of the honour I'm paying you." Even dirtied with sweat-limp hair, Dilandau managed to look cocky.
Link resisted the urge to roll his eyes, annoyed at the other's very apparent superiority complex. Dilandau was obviously in the same shape he was, if not worse. Part of him wanted to continue their spar just to wipe that look off his opponent's face...
But it seemed that Dilandau had rubbed off on him a bit in the short time they'd spent fighting. That was not acceptable.
The inspector composed himself carefully and nodded, tugging lightly at the cloth still wrapped loosely around his knuckles and beginning the process of gathering himself together for the trip back to suite three. Another spar with Dilandau... the man was rude, uncouth,entirely inappropriate... but he'd make a good sparring partner. Assuming he didn't try to stab Link in the back the next time he turned around.
With a silent nod of agreement, the pair took a few, casual steps out of arms reach and turned their backs, heading their own ways.