Building slow Who: Cheng, Taro When: Early afternoon Where: The Sword and Fan; one of the empty practice rooms. [closed log] What: Just a little staff practice and friendly conversation. Warnings & Notes: None.
Cheng's opinion found the facilities of the Sword and Fan quite nice, for all that the practice rooms were enclosed but for the windows allowing light and airflow. They weren't too enclosed, thankfully. And the practice room was large and built with a high ceiling. Considering his height and how his staff was several inches taller than he was, ceiling height always had to be a consideration. He also had to admit it was much nicer to practice in the shaded room than out in full sun.
Shirtless, barefoot, and with his hair tied back, he held his staff lightly in profile, the upper end pointed up and out, braced by an open palm. The lower end pointed to the area next to his feet, and his grip on the staff was relaxed, ready to tighten or loosen at less than a thought. He gripped the earth with his toes (he would smooth it over again when he finished), then as his breathing reached the right rhythm and pace he began working through the basic forms his father had taught him. The staff moved slowly, smoothly, only lightly pausing between forms. His earthbending was never something so graceful as Naida's waterbending, but he liked to aim for the flexibility of sand when it came to his staff. With it, he had to be fluid and able to adjust while also maintaining control.
He liked the forms for the simplicity and meditative qualities. His concentration was focused completely on the forms, how his staff moved and the way his muscles felt as they alternated between contracting and relaxing. There was the added though arguably completely negligible strain of manipulating a staff with a granite core. As his practicing continued he would start feeling a comfortable burn in his arms and legs and torso that would let him know he was actually making his body work. One didn't stay in shape if one didn't push their body, and he was hardly all that old. He imagined he could still improve his 'bending stamina over the next decade or so.
After running through the basics several times, he began expanding into the more complicated forms learned from his extended family. Keeping everything at the same slow and steady pace took an application of will and effort as the forms and flourishes typically functioned better at greater speeds than the snail's pace he currently used. Speed was easy. Speed came with long practice and little thought. Control came with longer practice and greater thought. When you had the ability to tap into an element that could shake very buildings to the ground, you had to learn not just how to achieve control but how to maintain it.
He had worked up a nice, healthy sweat when he felt the vibrations of someone approaching. Normally that wouldn't garner his attention all that much as people came and went all the time, but these particular footfalls stopped abruptly just past the door before backing up a pace. Cheng smiled inside; so he had a spectator. He wondered how long they might stand and watch so he continued his forms, his earthsense paying close attention to if the vibrations would begin again with the spectator's departure, or remain absent as they looked on.
That particular practice room was usually vacant, this time of day, so its occupation didn't register with Taro at first. The sound (and feel, honestly) of someone moving around quite purposefully inside the room was what caused him to pause and step back. If anyone had been around to ask, he was checking to make sure that whoever was in there had a good reason rather than simply lurking, but in truth he was curious.
When he saw the older man going through staff forms inside, suspicion evaporated down to its usual levels and curiosity turned into interest. Kaja had beaten him earlier, meaning he needed more practice. There was a fine line in losing between being sore over the loss and acknowledging what it taught, even if it was just 'need more practice.' Taro liked to think he usually stayed on the right side of that line, but either way he opted to stay to watch the man, and see if there was anything he could reasonably learn from observing someone so clearly at a higher level of skill.
He wasn't disruptive, though - he stayed well out of the man's range of movement, with his back to the inside wall just to one side of the door. Taken at slow speed and performed with skill, the staff forms looked easy enough, but that was deceptive with any weapon. It didn't take long for Taro to get absorbed enough in his observation that his one motion was to shove his hair away from his eyes every once in a while.
The spectator was staying. Excellent! Cheng smiled briefly before his expression returned to somber concentration as he continued the forms.
~
After what he judged to be half an hour, he brought himself to a stopping point with a final thrust of his staff. He straightened up and did a little flourish which ended with the staff laying diagonal across his back where it was held in place with a little earthbending to 'magnetize' the granite core to his back. "Hello there," he said peaceably to the boy who had been watching.
Cheng walked to the bench where his shirt was folded next to a large water-gourd, and a towel. He removed the staff and placed it so it leaned against the wall, then began the process of wiping himself down. It allowed the boy a little time if he needed it, and it let Cheng get a look at him before saying anything else.
Taro firmly suppressed a twitch and the urge to duck out of the room again when the man earthbended his staff (there was rock in there somewhere, there had to be) to his back. Associating with other earthbenders was a risk to his secrets, but running away immediately was a different kind of risk. It was better just to be extra-careful, mind his actions even more closely than usual. Accordingly, the suppressed twitch could have been mistaken for a slight you-caught-me tensing of muscles, and he didn't move from his position at the wall. "You seem to be pretty good," he observed, without returning the greeting. "Thanks for letting me watch."
"You are welcome," Cheng answered before taking a drink of water. "My name is Cheng. Do you know the bo? You were watching quite critically." The tensing of the muscles didn't go unnoticed. Was the boy just shy and hadn't expected to be spoken to?
"I'm Taro." Lack of manners or no, one couldn't get out of an introduction once the other person had given their name. And since people at school knew Taro, it wasn't like he could lie about it even if he'd wanted to. "It's not exactly my weapon of choice. I lost a sparring session earlier, though, so I clearly need to work on it."
Cheng's eyebrows lifted lifted even as he gave a slight, polite bow of an elder to youngster. "Oh? Is that so. You are learning here, I take it? I have heard the Masters are quite exceptional. You should be in good hands."
Taro half-laughed before he could stop the expression. "You're right, I'm a student here. Single-blade, archery, and unarmed combat mostly. So I think if I added bo to that, the Masters would start to worry that they'd never get rid of me." Fortunately, he didn't need to be a master at everything, he just wanted to be close to competent with everything. Just as impossible an ambition, really, even if it sounded a little more reasonable. "I watch, I sit in on random classes, I spar now and then. It seems to suit, mostly." He eyed Cheng curiously then. "How long have you studied it?"
"About forty years, give or take a few." Cheng smiled. "It starts to blur after a while. A jack of all trades, master of none," he mused. An admirable goal. It took determination and no little skill to have competency in many areas. "If you're interested in bo, you should go for it. I'm sure the Masters here don't mind your presence. A teacher's greatest pride is seeing their student succeed." He drank more of his water. "You said you lost a sparring session earlier. Have you time and inclination for a lesson? I would be willing to offer some advice."
"I'm sure I'll find a weapon or style to commit to eventually. In the meantime, I spent enough time on the road to get here in the first place that I know I never want to be caught without options." It wasn't that Taro intended to go back on the road again at any point, but really? He'd never intended to be on that road in the first place; it was impossible to predict the future. It was only possible to be ready for it.
"I'm up for it if you have the energy, sure." Cheng was an earthbender, stamina came along with that - he wouldn't have offered if he were tired, in any case. And while he wasn't a Master at the school, he was more than skilled enough to have advice and to spare. "Learning's what I'm here for, after all."
Smart boy, Cheng thought as he nodded approvingly. "I have the energy," he added. His dark eyes twinkled in merriment.
Next to where his staff leaned against the wall was a stand supporting regular bo. Cheng gave Taro a glance again before selecting a weapon more suited to his size and tossed it lightly. Then he chose one for himself. Using his favored weapon would grant an unfair advantage. Teacher met student on as equal ground as possible. Even if the wooden things were so darn light and flimsy.
He walked to the center of the room and spun the staff around slowly, getting a feel for it and deciding how he would need to compensate. "What do you feel your strength is, and what do you feel is your weakness?"
Taro caught the staff tossed at him, then held it out to test its balance. It was about right; one of the many good things about the Sword and Fan was the wide variety of training weapons. "I have good balance and solid stance, but I can move quickly when I have to." He'd had to more than once, after he'd left his parents' house. "And I'm physically much tougher than I look." That was one facet of his earthbending talent Taro hadn't ever learned to despise... partly because it was useful in general and partly because he had never figured out how to turn it off. "I'm... persistent. Which is good, sometimes, but it means I tend to stick with losing tactics a lot longer than I should. And I have a temper."
The words had the sound of something recited by rote, strengths and faults explained many times before, and accepted without really being felt. If Taro's own opinions of his strengths and weaknesses were different from the analysis he'd delivered, though, he wasn't sharing.
"Hmm." The speech was pretty...for a speech. And the toughness...could be interesting. Still, actions tended to speak much louder than words in Cheng's opinion. "Offense or defense, Taro?"
That took a little considering. One the one hand, defense was where he was comfortable, where he generally preferred to start matches. On the other, there was only so far a really good defense would take you, in a real fight. (Another thing to consider, later, if the thought came up, was whether or not most people or even most students, thought in terms of future 'real fights' that way.)
It seemed like a better idea to display his current skills and style, in the end, so Taro replied with a simple, "Defense."
Cheng grinned. "Then defend, young one." With a sound that was less a cry and more an exhalation, he surged and attacked.
His specialty was defense. When it came to earthbending, it was a somewhat static in the broadest term, but his options were more limited when it came to staff. Therefore he followed the old adage of the best defense was offense. Gaining ground meant you had that much more to give if it became necessary, and simultaneously deprived the opponent of same. If there was one thing Cheng really lacked when it came to fighting, it was the desire to actually hurt someone. He preferred to restrain the opponent, and make them unable to fight without serious harm. It showed in his attack - when he wasn't trying to knock Taro's staff away, or sweep the feet out from under him, Cheng aimed for points on the body that would debilitate Taro or knock him off balance enough to gain an advantage.
Starting off on the defensive was the best way Taro had ever found to size up an opponent. When he sparred against Kaja, he expected a high-energy attack, breaking to impatience after a while. Like... hah, like fire striking a stone wall. The old man was... different. It was all Taro could do to maintain his defense in the face of the attack, but there was nothing impatient about it, and the younger man was forced to fall back more than he really wanted to, jaw tightening in dual irritation and determination. Eventually, he noticed Cheng's aim - to disarm or disable, no vital strikes. Defending vital points, therefore, was a waste of time.
After that realization, defense came a little easier, though not enough to start pressing an attack of his own. He started meeting attempts to sweep his feet out from under him with a twist to the side and a block with his own staff, and also started trying to turn Cheng's apparent desire not to cause damage against him by using a convenient foot or leg to block disarm attempts. Practice weapons never hurt that much, especially against someone who was pulling his blows a little anyway, and who knew? It might make enough of an opening to counterattack.
Well, didn't those moves look familiar. And Cheng would bet money that the way Taro used his limbs in addition to the staff that he was earthbending. Cheng's eyes half-closed as he felt for the particular vibrations associated with earthbending, and found them. Taro probably wasn't even aware of the way he was using earthbending to give him the balance and counterforce that allowed him to be more effective against the disarm attempts. It wasn't anything overt; it actually was more like Cheng's own style.
Feeling oddly pleased to have found a 'kindred soul' of sorts, Cheng opened his eyes fully again and pressed the attack, increasing his speed and the force at which he struck. Spying something a little odd about the boy's defense, he feinted a strike at the solar plexus. It wouldn't connect--Cheng would be sure of that--but he wanted to see how Taro responded when the established 'pattern' was broken.
The sudden strike at a vital point very nearly caught Taro flat-footed. He managed to parry about two-thirds of the way through Cheng's strike - effectively but clumsily; in a real fight it might have signaled the beginning of the end. That exploitation of his evidently-obvious not paying attention plus the urge to just earthbend instead of parrying properly, made Taro just angry enough (at himself) to try and take advantage of the shift and launch a counterattack. Which, honestly, would probably have been his response in a 'real fight' as well; after a block that clumsy, he would have been dead anyway unless his fortunes changed in a hurry.
Cheng tsked softly to himself at the clumsy parry and added a mental headshake to the angry counterattack. Who had the boy been practicing with to let him fall into a rut? He allowed the attack to go mostly unchallenged and shifted smoothly to defending because he wanted to see how the boy handled himself at offense. His own movements remained just as patient and unrushed as he had been throughout the spar.
Taro was no slouch at this. Excepting the defense-rut, he knew what he was doing when defending and when attacking. He had skill and probably talent as well, along with what Cheng would judge to be actual experience in fighting outside the rules of a dojo. It was the little things that hinted - the quickness, the searching that Taro's staff did for weaknesses to exploit, the controlled strength behind the attacks that declared Taro was only using a bit more force than what would normally be required. (The goal of a fight, Cheng's father had told him long ago, is to make sure that your opponent is unable to hit you back. Any blow taken, return with interest until the opponent is either disarmed, disabled, or simply surrenders.) Truly, for all that Taro had implied how the Masters at the school would be unhappy to remain so long, Cheng doubted the Masters actually minded. Eager students were the best students.
There were two problems to watch out for, when sparring against a clearly superior opponent. The first was a tendency to pull back, not go all out, due to the knowledge that strikes would never land, to save energy, to wait for an opening that was unlikely to come, whatever. The second was at the opposite end of the spectrum - the knowledge that strikes would never land led to a temptation to go more than all out, to attack recklessly and with style, show off, and just have fun with it. Taro resisted both problems and focused on showing that he did, in fact, know what he was doing... more or less.
In general, Taro's defense was stronger than his offense, but he'd done enough training (and actual fighting) that the difference wasn't as marked as it could have been. He tested Cheng's defenses with seemingly random strikes, looking for a hole or something else to exploit. Patient and methodical, even if he was careful not to follow any easily-recognizable pattern. It was a better way to show off than any flashy tricks would have been, or so he thought.
Nice. Taro was relaxing into the spar more, using more of his head rather than simply reacting. Cheng found himself smiling; he was having fun. He hoped Taro was, too.
Wood clacked against wood as Cheng made sure that Taro's bo never connected with actual flesh. He could see the bruises on Taro already forming and had no desire to get his own. (Mostly because Naida would likely scold him for not being careful than for anything else.)
Fighting was fun, even when it was just sparring. Some people compared it with dancing, but in dancing you were never really competing against anyone. (Except in contests, but that hardly counted.) Still, Taro didn't smile... but then, he didn't smile much anyway. He did, however, go into a series of attacks that very nearly mimicked the disarm and sweep moves that Cheng had used earlier in the spar.
Oh ho! What fun this was! Trying to use Cheng's own moves against him! Very nice! Not enough to succeed, but give the boy time and practice and he would be a wonderfully worthy (and fun!) opponent. If nothing else, Cheng hoped to be able to do this more often not just to help Taro, but to encourage Cheng to keep himself capable. Nothing like a little honest competition and a reason to push yourself to keep in shape.
He let himself continue defending until he spotted a hole in Taro's attack. A nifty and strong flip-twist of his staff to get Taro's out of the way and Cheng commenced his attack again.
Taro went back on the defense fairly smoothly, all things considered; this wasn't his first match of the day, and his endurance was beginning to flag. About ten minutes of careful-attention-paid defense later (to prove to himself if no one else that his earlier error had been precisely that, a lone error) he stepped back and raised his staff in the universal near-salute gesture meaning I give, I'm done. "Time to bow out before something I'll need later twists on me. Thank you for the match." It had been instructional - he'd picked up at least a few new tricks and patterns.
Cheng chuckled. "It's a good man who knows when to stop before hurting himself unnecessarily." He bowed politely. "Thank you for the match as well, young Taro." He hoped that perhaps another day, they could do this again. Maybe when the boy was fresher, too. Either way it would be beneficial to them both.
"It only takes one sprain before you learn your lesson." Or a dislocation, in his case, followed by a very severe lecture from the healer about Limits and how He Had Them. Taro returned the bow briefly, then returned his practice weapon to its place. "I learned mine very, very early in my time here."
"And hopefully only a sprain," Cheng murmured. "Take care of yourself, Taro. Maybe we'll meet another time?"
That earned a full, open smile - something of a rarity from Taro. No, it hadn't been only a sprain, but Cheng's tone said he understood, even if he'd learned his own lesson with only a sprain. "If you're here often enough, I have no doubt we will." Not that he'd keep an eye out. No, not at all. Rather than bow again, Taro waved slightly on his way out the door, back the way he'd come. There was a meditation area that way, and meditation was easily the best way to sneak a rest period into the day.