YAY VIOLENCE WITHOUT CONSEQUENCES [OPEN]

[inthirds]

WHO: Zelgadis and others just get in here ok
WHERE: A vacant lot all groomed and abused for sword&sorcery practice
WHEN: Next week...pick a day
WARNINGS: Idk yet
SUMMARY: Magic and swords and spars and spectators and whatever else happens happens ok? ok
FORMAT: No (whatever you want)

Comments

Tuesday afternoon?

[batghoul]

Cass had just gotten back from vacation a few days ago, and after a week of not really doing much training, she was eager to get back into the swing of things. And the offer to practice her swordfighting was too good to refuse.

So there she was, walking into the empty lot, a bit more tanned than before she left and carrying her sheathed sword at her side.

access granted!

[inthirds]

And there he was, sitting with his back to one of his magically-makeshift rock spires and a worn-out notebook in his lap, mumbling something to himself without much regard for the world around him--

Until the scrape of feet on gravel and dirt hit his ears and lifted his head. He blinked, taking a second to actually realize who it was on their way over, but realization hit a lot faster than it used to -- with proper name recollection and everything.

"Cass." His tone was a bit surprised, but definitely not in a bad sense. He hadn't expected to see her that day. "Hey."

[batghoul]

"Hi," she said with a smile and a small wave. She'd seen him training in the spot on the way to the dojo the day before, and it seemed like he could use a partner. And she could use the exercise to work off all that vacation buffet food.

"Spar?" she asked, lifting up the sword he'd given her and tipping it toward him slightly.

[inthirds]

He smirked a little. She really didn't waste any time, did she? But he wasn't bothered. Better to set aside the pointless pleasantries he stunk at tossing around anyway.

"Yeah, alright." It'd be a great deal more interesting than cutting up rocks by himself, that was certain. He flipped the notebook closed, stuffing it into a cloth bag he'd brought with him and stashing it on the side opposite, out of the way. He got up, lifting the longsword up off the side of the rock it'd been propped up on and pulled it out of its sheath. What would've taken him two arms and a great deal more concentration needed only one hand, lightly gripping it and letting it scrape the ground as he stretched in place.

"Anytime," he said, giving her a little nod.

[batghoul]

Cass smiled in response, setting her sword's sheath aside. She gripped the sword in both hands, testing the weight with a few practice swings. When it came to weapons, nothing felt quite as natural in her hands as a good sword.

After a few moments of stretching her legs, she nodded, and then darted forward, holding the sword low as she ran and slicing upward when she got within range.

[inthirds]

Zelgadis leaned away and turned his head, enough to spare his eye. The edge grazed along his hair, causing a high scraping note as it blew by. No harm done on his end; he was wire and stone. Instead of rising to block, he waited for the blow to pass before taking a turn; the bastard blade that had been at rest on the ground was raised up in a quick, vertical cut that veered to her right, evading more dire points.

He'd never crossed swords with her as an all-out chimera before; the thought slowed his swing and made him more tentative to get off the defensive. Cass was good, he knew that (would've still had bruises to prove that if he was more a human), but he wasn't sure he could trust her to be that good. The prideful boy in him, of course, hoped she wasn't, because he wasn't a fan of losing, but even so. It'd be something to see if he discovered a spar his equal in her, maybe even give Gourry a run for his money...The thought made him smirk as his body turned to prepare another evasion.

[batghoul]

His stone skin might have seemed like an unfair advantage to anyone else, but to Cass it meant that she could really cut loose for a change. Sometimes it was a constant battle to not take that one obvious move, or exploit a clear opening, because it would be a killing strike. She'd had to consciously prevent herself from using those aspects of her training, and it was freeing to just forget all those restraints, if just for a moment.

But she could tell that he, on the other hand, was holding back. She couldn't help but feel a little bit insulted by that, but Zelgadis had always been concerned about his power. She'd just have to show him that she could handle herself in most any situation. So as his blade came flying upward, she deflected it with her own and then thrust forward.

[inthirds]

He'd have been pierced under a rib if he were made of softer stuff. He knew that, knew relying too much on his hide would leave him more than a little vulnerable if his condition changed for the better.

When it changed. When, when, when. Not if.

Cass hardly offered time to wax introspective about that - or much of anything - so he just clicked his tongue and caught the blow following, putting his weight into the block with means to twist her angle and give her a good shove and him more room to swing wide.

[batghoul]

Now that was a bit more like he meant it--but she wasn't about to back down. After all, you couldn't improve if you didn't put everything you had into sparring. And Zelgadis was about the only person she knew who could give her a good workout at swordfighting. And she knew that he had it in him to be more than a challenge, if he could just get past that stupid 'trying not to hurt her' thing.

He clearly had the advantage in weight, and despite her well above-average strength, his block sent her stumbling back a bit. She recovered quickly and began to close the distance once again and remaining on the defensive, knowing that his sword probably favored a longer range more than hers.

[inthirds]

She was right; a blade that long needed air to breathe, and the best Zel could do with it in close quarters was small, poorly-angled nudges. He gripped the hilt two-handed then, tilting the blade horizontal and took to charging forward, throwing his weight into it, giving another shove after a few steps in effort to throw her back and regain the space he wanted.

[batghoul]

She tumbled backward again, giving him the space he wanted and more. If he could just keep pushing her away with his body weight, she'd need a new strategy. So she remained just barely out of range, holding her sword down toward the ground and waiting for him to swing--a swing she would act like she was going to block, and then let pass harmlessly in front of her at the last moment to hopefully throw him off balance.

[inthirds]

He advanced as she predicted, though his weight hardly denoted slow; his forward motion, sliding on his foot, kicked up dust and left a semicircle of an imprint as he spun on it, the move accompanied by another wide horizontal slash to keep his space wide.

He charged, dragging the tip of the blade in the dirt and bringing it up fast and high.

[batghoul]

She darted just out of the range of the first blow, maybe a bit surprised by how quickly he moved. Given that combination of both strength and speed, she couldn't hope to win by staying on the defensive.

When he charged, she raised her sword, every muscle in her body conveying 'I am going to block this attack.' However, at the last moment, she darted to the side, avoiding his blade and countering with a quick slice of her own. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't see it coming.

[inthirds]

Sword combat was...contradictory. To expect the unexpected while keeping a clear head wasn't as fluid a state of mind to get at, moreso the longer unchallenged.

Long story short: No, he didn't. And neither did his shirt, so suddenly trimmed on one sleeve to be cooler for summer. He clicked his tongue - he kind of liked that shirt - having put up a guard too late, obliged to take the sword into both hands again to better change its course as their little waltz obliged him to slide and turn quickly to keep up.

The swing went high to low, heavy and signed with a thrust at the end to nip at her feet - the root of the problem, as it were.

[batghoul]

He returned the favor, his quick thrust slicing across her shoe as she stepped back. The laces were perfectly cut down the middle, leaving the shoe loose. Well, she guessed she'd be making a trip to the shoe store after their spar.

She could still use the situation to her advantage, however. Kicking upward, her shoe flew off, heading directly for Zelgadis' face. Her distraction in place, she thrust her sword forward quickly.

[inthirds]

That was...

Well.

From the way he staggered back, it clearly wasn't part of any of his plans. "Gyah-!" The longsword barely shaved at the thrust, a forgotten guard, and one sliced shoe was avenged by another slice of shirt. His reaction to that was delayed; he was still shaking his head of the shoe (his hair wasn't making it go away easily). He wound up shuffling backward severl steps hastily, swatting the damn thing off and away with a huff, looking hassled and a bit lost to the situation.

Oh.

Right.

Spar.

His guard stance went back up.