( Agility was expected, and Noctis doesn't disappoint. With a lithe, compact form, his domain is undoubtedly speed and general ease of movement. If Kaladin were an amateur, he'd chalk the extreme acrobatics up to unnecessary showmanship; fancy moves don't typically beget clean hits.
But Noctis' total control was obvious from the outset. )
"Not actually that bad," huh? Well... I'll take it. You're not the easiest man to get a compliment from!
( Kaladin switches tactics mid-swing. His comrade's energetic assault is met and matched with its opposite: A calm defence. The careful conservation of energy by planting his feet, connecting with the ground, and swinging his spear in any direction it needs to go to clash with Noctis' sword.
He must also remove his opponent's chances to pause and regenerate stamina. Taking a strike intentionally to draw Noctis in, Kaladin feels the blade bite into his flesh, and heals instantly. He signals with a look of satisfaction that any wounds he accumulates don't hurt him when he's holding Stormlight. He takes only shallow sips from his spheres, refusing to let excess Light enhance his skills. This continues through their advancements on each other, Noctis' a flurry of blows from all sides and Kaladin's a series of opportunistic thrusts.
They keep each other on their toes until Kaladin tires of defence and becomes envious of Noctis' aggressive flow from one swing to the next. Beautiful combat. Beautiful execution.
So, when he decides to break away a second time to pace, the Sylspear grows. A foot and a half, maybe two, from the length of a thrusting spear. His face wears a mist of sweat and a slant of a smile below a focused stare. )
You're not so bad yourself!
( His spear is twirled in his hands, around his back to his front again, in another kata, and his foot slides in an arc on the floor. Then he's gone, leaning into a sudden pursuit of Noctis, leaping high into his next stab down. )
no subject
But Noctis' total control was obvious from the outset. )
"Not actually that bad," huh? Well... I'll take it. You're not the easiest man to get a compliment from!
( Kaladin switches tactics mid-swing. His comrade's energetic assault is met and matched with its opposite: A calm defence. The careful conservation of energy by planting his feet, connecting with the ground, and swinging his spear in any direction it needs to go to clash with Noctis' sword.
He must also remove his opponent's chances to pause and regenerate stamina. Taking a strike intentionally to draw Noctis in, Kaladin feels the blade bite into his flesh, and heals instantly. He signals with a look of satisfaction that any wounds he accumulates don't hurt him when he's holding Stormlight. He takes only shallow sips from his spheres, refusing to let excess Light enhance his skills. This continues through their advancements on each other, Noctis' a flurry of blows from all sides and Kaladin's a series of opportunistic thrusts.
They keep each other on their toes until Kaladin tires of defence and becomes envious of Noctis' aggressive flow from one swing to the next. Beautiful combat. Beautiful execution.
So, when he decides to break away a second time to pace, the Sylspear grows. A foot and a half, maybe two, from the length of a thrusting spear. His face wears a mist of sweat and a slant of a smile below a focused stare. )
You're not so bad yourself!
( His spear is twirled in his hands, around his back to his front again, in another kata, and his foot slides in an arc on the floor. Then he's gone, leaning into a sudden pursuit of Noctis, leaping high into his next stab down. )