synflux | ( closed ) life like the unplumbed sea;

[ The fact that he understands deeply already that the less he says, the better, is what makes him more of a threat, and Gebura already finds it a little odd that it is such a succinct request and does indeed demand reasons in the event that this is is some kind of ploy.

It could still very well be a ploy, and she keeps that thought tucked close, even as she opts to not bring along Mimicry in favor of a less dangerous blade. She doesn't want to actually kill the guy (probably).

Said blade is balanced casually over one shoulder as she approaches him, choosing to stand there while he goes through his Clearly Very Focused forms until the sun's starting to lift a bit more and that light sinks into the vivid red of her hair. Yeah, that's enough waiting. ]

You good to go?

[ Hi, Elysium. ]

[ Look, he's technically left her to her own devices for a good amount of time by now? A few days' peace has to mean something for their tenuous camaraderie. Sparring may not be the highest on Elysium's list of priorities, but staying active is nor would he ever deny the benefits of it and would agree that it's best to keep sharp.

There's a beat as he finishes his last form—and as he turns to regard her, his smile comes readily along with a lazy wave. ]

'Morning! Not into any pre-spar pleasantries, I take it. But that's fine. [ Expected… he can ask what she's been up to and whatever else later. (ahem) ] Shouldn't we set some ground rules first, Miss Gebura? We are holding terribly real weapons here.

[ Taking the beginnings of another stance, he throws his blade with a twist of his wrist, catching it just so that the dull side faces outwards as he points it in her direction. Showy, showy. More indictive of him as a fighter is that he's looking lighter on his feet than ever, the flag he normally carries with him waylaid to the side. It isn't often he has the chance to fight so unfettered, so perhaps on that point alone what started for show isn't entirely for it. ]

[ Gebura steps forward; there's no sense of showiness or flair to her movements, in direct contrast to his, but there's a sharp gleam to her eyes and a subtle shift to her posture. She gazes at Elysium not as an annoyance but as an opponent she knows better than to underestimate.

She knows better than most not to lower her guard based off someone's outward appearance. ]

So we are.

[ The sword she holds is pointed forward in one hand, straight and unwavering, just like her gaze. ]

We're not doing this to the death and I'm not really into maiming for a simple spar. If you want to go til first blood is drawn or until one of us is disarmed, I'm fine with either one. [ Even dull, a weapon can cut. She can't guarantee an injury-free encounter here. ]

[ She's a presence that commands attention, that's for sure—but he hadn't expected anything less even from their few interactions. By the second, he feels increasingly justified in his judgement call; he pulls back into a stance more befitting of a spar, posture remaining both steadfast and confident. ]

Is drawing blood during spars the norm for where you're from?

[ He keeps his tone and gaze level. Since his initial acknowledgement of her, his eyes never once stray. ]

No matter. Let's go with either or. Don't hold back on my account, alright?

[ There's a wealth one can learn about another from the way they fight—and already, he feels like he's gained plenty before they've even begun to so much as cross their blades. Is he still in the process of judging her, like he'd said he would? Yep. ]

If someone pointed a weapon at me, it was usually to try to kill me.

[ Shortly. She hadn't really learned from things like "practice" or "lessons" until she'd drawn the interest of a veteran Fixer, so to speak. It was all experience learned from trying to survive.

But their terms have been decided, and Gebura breathes a sigh. ]

... I'm not in the habit of holding back.

[ So he doesn't have to worry! And sure enough, when she dashes forward, there is absolutely no hesitation in the way she launches her first forceful strike, a diagonal slash at his shoulder. It's maybe to test his guard at first, but she's also not really giving him any easy openings to exploit off the bat either. ]

[ Trial by fire, was it? There's the hint of a grimace, though he'll refrain from commenting. Those who had a similar background were more common than not in many places within Terra, and theirs weren't his to judge when his upbringing was nondescript in comparison. It's hard not to wander back to their conversation on scars—being distracted isn't the best choice he's making at the moment, but as this was an exercise to get to know her better…

It's instinct that ends up saving his ass by hauling him to dodge, her blade narrowly missing flesh to catch parts of his sleeve instead. ]

… You're no joke! [ But when is she ever? His first priority is to re-establish distance, eyes left blinking at the sheer force he'd felt in the trajectory of her blow. It's a good thing he isn't the type to parry, because he's not entirely sure he would've even been able to. ] Maybe I should've clarified 'til first blood's drawn… but I'm not the type to take back words, either!

[ The implication there is, damn girl, a one-hit KO is technically first blood?? Elysium should probably not be trying to banter in the midst of this, but at least his mind won't be wandering again anytime soon. ]

[ She's come a long way from bristling at every person who thought that they'd had a harder life than anyone who'd just barely survived the Backstreets, but the Nest-born truly had laughable ideas of what made life hard more often than not.

And of course this yahoo is trying to banter and she honestly isn't sure if that's him trying to trash-talk or if this is just his default. Maybe the latter; "you're no joke" isn't exactly a taunt. ]

You're the one who said not to hold back.

[ And so she's not going to give him much of an opportunity to get that distance, dashing forward once more for another strike. She does at least appear to be aiming for his limbs, for disarming more than maiming. ]

So don't regret your words, in the end!

[ Elysium wouldn't give up his flagbearing duties for his life, but he has to admit that fighting without it and enabling the yahoo in him to its full potential is enjoyable in its own right. In adopting one of the more obnoxious fighting styles known to man in incessant dodges and feints, the rhythm in which he spars is much like a dance; quick as he is, it hardly matters if he can't find an opening or land a decisive blow.

Still, with every near swipe of his limbs, there'll be an accompanying yelp. ]

Wouldn't — dream of it——!

[ …is this going to be an endurance test…? It's looking increasingly like it. To his credit, he is trying to get fast ones in on her. Alas, it's looking likelier that she'll be able to overwhelm him through strength alone if she chooses. ]

[ He's fast, she'll give him that. It's almost reminiscent of her time as a Fixer, where she'd definitely been faster. In the Library, she'd slowly been regaining her strength in yet another body that was similar to her first but still different, but short of tapping into that power (and she certainly won't be doing that in a spar), she isn't quite as agile as her past self.

He moves like a dance and if she were the poetic type, it'd be a shame to interrupt it with her own percussive moves--

But she is not the poetic type; the dull edge of his blade meets her arm (not enough to cut it, sadly) and Gebura spares it a glance. And then she moves, grasping his rhythm not out of intuition but observation, to go on the offensive full-tilt with unrelenting blows. It's at least to his credit that he hadn't spent the entire time just dodging, but she's not interested in letting him flit around for too long regardless. ]

[ If there were real stakes, he would be dodging until the end of time, there's no shame in that. Either to bide time for backup or to stall, whichever ends up being necessary.

As is, there's… an itinerary he has in mind, that he wouldn't want to put off for too long. He knows better than to purposefully allow himself to get hit and it would be a disrespect in of itself, so there's nothing to do but be a little more reckless, be a little more on the aggression than he normally would be. It's a good thing, then, that Gebura doesn't have a frame of reference for his usual fighting style to tip her off on it.

It's simply how it goes when you're acutely aware of how you tend to be the centripetal piece of operations—his life isn't only his own, but others'. And as she syncs up on his movements, now seems a better time than any to go for a real parry; any earlier, he thinks, probably would've been throwing much too soon, much too obviously.

To none of his surprise, he's quickly overwhelmed. But his struggle is evident, and he tries; it's because he tries that when the sword eventually falls out of his grasp, it does manage to nick his clothing and leave a bright red gash from where it slashes.

He bites the inside of his cheek, then——nothing, as he brings a hand up to adjust his sleeve. Was there any salvaging it? Questionable. It bleeds and stains the rest of its surrounding area red; looking away from it and back to Gebura, he'll cut through the tense air with a small laugh. ]

If nothing else, I'm glad that I had the foresight not to call myself much of a combatant.

[ Gebura straightens as soon as the sword clatters harmlessly to the ground, letting hers fall naturally back to her side. They'd established the rule beforehand, thankfully, and there's no reason to perform any kind of follow-up, despite her instincts clamoring to do otherwise. It's very rare to engage in a fight that isn't for survival.

But she lets some of that adrenaline ease out of her. There's no real way to tell whether he'd been acting differently in this fight than any of the others, not without seeing him fight again, so she just keeps the thought in the back of her head for another day. ]

You weren't terrible.

[ Wow. ]

Though your movements made it seem like you were far more used to evading than pursuing. [ Which makes sense as someone who specialized more in reconnaissance and information than someone more on the frontlines. ]

[ After not expecting a compliment in the slightest for a glimpse at his rat-like tactics, 'you weren't terrible,' is something that is worthy of a wow. Meanwhile, he's back to lamenting his clothes… geez. Considering it's already ruined, he might as well rip the rest of his sleeve off to tie the wound—it's a practiced movement, one he's clearly done plenty of times before.

While he's tending to himself, he continues yammering: ]

More specifically, I'm used to not being seen at all.

[ Basically, the complete opposite of what one would expect of his personality. But with surprising deftness, his wound is dressed; he gestures over to his flag before he picks it up, making it appear significantly lighter than it is. ]

I brought it this in case you'd want a visual. My suspicions were right—I believe we'd be rather compatible. You'd hold a frontline well.

[ A flick of his wrist, and the banner of his flag expands into its full width, its rustle loud against the wind. With his sword picked up and spun in a similarly stylistic fashion as he had earlier in his other hand, he smiles brightly. ]

This is how I'm really used to fighting on a battlefield. This thing here? [ he tap tap taps his flag on the floor. ] Helps me stabilise communications. Prevents any hostiles from interfering with them. Which, as you can probably surmise, doesn't lend well to me facing direct confrontations.

[ There's a minute twitch to her eye, as though hearing that they would be compatible (even if he means strictly in the capacity of being on the battlefield) is the last thing she actually wanted to hear.

Probably because it is, though he's less annoying when he's bleeding (wow). She can look at the flag with one raised eyebrow, considering it. Definitely not something she'd consider using as a weapon, so it's unsurprising that he hadn't opted to use it in their fight. Spar. It's got its own kind of use, apparently, which she can respect. Reluctantly. ]

I get it. It's more of a supportive role, as you said. So staying out of reach while still providing back-up suits you better. And you have to rely on those on the frontline to keep any hostiles at bay.

[ This is why his captain constantly smacks him around for being glib… the question is, does he do it on purpose or is it unintentional? It's a mystery. Either way, there is truth in his words—her form in combat is striking, and he's glad he'd been able to witness it in a position where he did have the luxury to contemplate it than on the battlefield proper.

He'll be mulling on about it for a while, proably. ]

Mhm. [ A pause. ] Not everyone who carries a flag is able to do what I do, though.

[ His voice carries a pride that's markedly different than the one he uses to compliment his own superficial traits. She might notice it, she might not. Either way. ]

For the most part, they're still meant to be symbols.

[ An important job as is, he believes, but this one might be just a tad more contentious. He sounds fond regardless. ]

But, whew! I'm all tuckered out. [ ONTO THE REAL ITINERARY AT LAST(?) ] Did you have any other plans for the rest of the day?

[ She notices. Observation had been a skill she'd cultivated by the time she'd turned thirteen, out of the sheer necessity to survive. It's enough of a tonal change that it's easy enough for her to pick up on, though she doesn't really see a need to comment on it. It's not an empty sense of pride, she can tell that much, and it's why she doesn't insult it, letting it slide.

Maybe he won't know that's conscious, but regardless, she lifts an eyebrow at him. ]

Not really. If you're that wiped, I'd recommend heading back to your room to rest. [ Maybe get some stretching in, put some actual ointment on that injury. If he's used to battle, he doesn't need that kind of advice to be spoken. ]

Oh, good!

[ Gebura, probably: Oh, bad!

Because it's that exact moment that he grins and sidles up to her, tucking away the sword in its sheathe and his flag in the crook of his arm. ]

I'm starving. No, no, no need for me to rest. There are different kinds of tired, you feel? Too tired to spar, too tired to think. Not tired enough to grab a bite, since replenishing yourself is just as important. It is getting to be about lunch time, isn't it?

[ Oh... definitely bad.

He talks so easily and lightly enough that it's only a few seconds for Something to Click. Like the sparring hadn't been his main intention, but rather a means to an end, in a way that wasn't entirely dishonest, but all the same, her eyes slowly narrow. ]

Then go get some food.

[ Why are you so close, sir. ]

[ he got slashed in the spar and BLED what more does she want from him!! ]

I will! [ No more playing coy: ] And I'm saying you should come with, since I can vouch that I've found some pretty good spots over the last few days. You haven't been sticking with the cafeteria food, are you?

[ look, what if she tries to escape? not that he would physically hold her back, but… you know… the presence of proximity?? is that a thing? ]

[ She should have stabbed him harder-- ]

I don't exactly have a lot of money to be spending it on something we can get for free.

[ She's just going to point that out, because until she's comfortably making a lot more, she doesn't really want to splurge. Backstreets habits. ]

[ And he's going to point out: ]

Considering all our basic necessities are covered, is there something in particular you're trying to save for?

Edited (i should go to bed) 2024-05-21 13:19 (UTC)

Maybe there is.

[ And if there is, that's not an answer he's going to get from her anytime soon. ]

So I don't really see a need in paying for a meal right now. [ Not until she's built up enough to be comfortable about it, anyway. ]

[ It's intended as a yes or no question, and so the answer Gebura gives him is serviceable enough. It's a good thing, then, that he can also read the room… when he wants to.

Picking and choosing one's battles! Any recruit worth their salt knows how to do that. Whether it's in the right way or not is a different story. ]

Then, you'd have no qualms if the meal was paid for?

[ This seems like a very Leading question and it's hard for her to... well, it feels a bit silly to mistrust it immediately, but she's also not from a place that offers things without a price.

If this is what it sounds like (a meal with him in exchange for having it paid for), she has to wonder why the hell. ]

... What do you want from me, exactly?

[ So apparently she'll just come right out and ask! It's not the pleasure of her company, she's not that nice?? ]

[ Immediately: ]

You! [ A grin and meaningful pause later: ] Want me to expand on that?

[ The fact that he hadn't followed-up on it just as quickly might suggest a few things here. ]

[ Ah. This feeling, creeping closer, almost foreign to her...

... This must be...

... A headache. ]

You have five seconds or I'm leaving.

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https://youtu.be/soCkDYAwyyk?si=ugjte67y37rvIJlr&t=123 sheesh.........

I'm very sorry she's strong

never be sorry she deserves to slay

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please go to bed

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