pyr min solemnly swears he is up to no good (twinclaws) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-01-25 13:41:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, drake liu, pyr min |
Who: Pyr Min & Drake Liu
What: Sparring with claws.
Where: Lindwyrm Hall
When: 1/14 (backdated)
Rating: PG
Status: Complete!
The combination of Councilor Cassul's demon training and Sister Felicity's tendency to rise with the sun (and make him rise, too) had made Pyr resign himself to the fact that he was never going to be able to sleep in ever again. This acceptance didn’t make it any easier to get up at ungodly o’clock every morning, be it to run with Councilor Cassul, spar with Juliette or attend a class, but still, the prospect of training with Drake was something he could get excited about, unlike most of the activities included in his punishment. Which, he supposed, was the whole point. He waited at the agreed spot, early for once. As Drake had promised to lend him an old pair of claws, Pyr had foregone the usual visit to the guildhall armory. He looked down at his hands, at the calluses that had been forming around his knuckles over months of training with claws. Divina had said he had a long way to go still, but he couldn’t help feeling he sucked a little less every day. He was making definite progress, and he couldn’t wait to show Drake how far he’d come. Drake had forgotten the claws, so he’d had to turn around and grab them. Fortunately, he’d left early enough that he wasn’t too late, but Pyr had apparently beat him. He jogged over and grinned. “Sorry about that,” he said, handing over the claws. “Nearly forget these.” Once Pyr had the claws, Drake started to stretch. He wasn’t sure how much practice the kid had had with the gloves - he knew Pyr had wanted to learn them, and he’d seen Divina working with him, so it would be interesting to see how far he’d progressed. It had been way too long since he’d had a chance to work with any of the squires - too many things going on for him to actually have any real fun. “So,” he said, casual. “Think you can get a hit on me?” Pyr grinned. "Sure can. I told you, I've gotten better since last time." This was one of the things he loved about working with Drake: there was no need to be all stiff and polite, it was just training, and it was fun. Just hanging out. He had already put on the claws, but he removed one of them to show Drake the calluses that had formed around his knuckles (from using the claws, and doing knuckle push-ups with Divina). "See?" he asked, preening. Drake made the appropriate impressed face. “Good, but calluses aren’t going to get a hit on me, Pyr. Unless your sister taught you some really messed up magic.” Which, if she had, he didn’t want to know. For all he knew there was a spell to make calluses into fighters of Theo’s caliber, which would just be unfair. Dropping into position, he lifted his hands, keeping his body loose. “Come at me.” Pyr settled into guard stance. Playfulness took a step back as he concentrated on the bout. Drake had left no openings—he never did, unless he was trying to lure Pyr into a trap. Sometimes, though, it was worth the risk, especially in bouts where he only had to get a single hit in to win. And today, he was determined to show Drake that he could get a hit in. He threw a kick aimed at Drake’s leg, to test the waters. Lately, whenever he sparred, he could hear Felicity’s voice in his head, telling him to look for the weak points and strike. He wasn’t going to let all that precision work they’d done go to waste, but he had to find the perfect chance first. Drake stepped back, neatly dodging the blow. He wasn’t going to attack - at least, not yet. The squires he trained with knew his habits, though they varied between them. With Juliette, she got between 5-7 “free” hits without him retaliating. Pyr got about 9. One down, 8 to go. It was always interesting to see how they approached their strategies. The goal of today’s session was for Pyr to get a hit - but it was also to see how well he could wield his weapon. He’d been attracted to claws because it had seemed easy - after all, it was just throwing a punch with a glove, right? He’d very quickly had that misconception corrected. He’d gotten good at it, and it was always amazing to him to see how many people had the same misconception that he’d had. Pyr had come a long way - if he could help encourage the kid to keep going, then that was what he’d do. Even if Drake wasn’t counterattacking yet, his defense was solid, which made it hard to get a good hit in. Still, that only meant landing blows was going to be even harder once he started pushing back, so if Pyr was going to achieve his goal, it had to be now. Feinting wouldn’t work; he used that tactic far too often, and no Councilor was going to fall for those cheap tricks, especially seeing as Drake already knew Pyr favored that strategy. So it would have to be a straight-up attempt. He took a step forward and threw a downward slash that would have raked down Drake’s front, which was obviously blocked; but that was the point. When Drake put up his forearm to stop Pyr’s slash, the squire was already turning to stand behind him. He had speed on his side, and he used the fraction of a second it would take Drake to turn as well to throw a kick at the back of the Councilor’s knee, hoping to stagger him, and slash again. The kick nearly connected, but Drake stepped forward and turned, neatly blocking the next attack. Not bad. He’d almost gotten a direct hit in less than 10 moves. Pyr was certainly improving, and it seemed like he was taking his training seriously. That was good; now, if only they could take some of Pyr’s dedication and give it to some of the other squires. “Nice attempt,” Drake told him, grinning. “But you’ve got to do better than that.” There was a stab of disappointment at his failure, but it was quickly overcome. He would have to do better yes—but he had come very close. Just a little more, and he could do this. Pyr grinned back before moving again. Whatever he chose to do next, he was certain Drake would block it. His goal, then, had to be to make Drake blocked in a way that would leave some kind of opening for Pyr to exploit. A long shot, perhaps—but without small tricks like these, he would never land a hit on someone of the Councilor’s caliber. Sometimes, being short could be an advantage. Pyr slashed up with both hands, knowing that his attacks wouldn’t connect, but ready to exploit that failure. Both strikes were blocked, as he’d expected, and when he made as if to attack again, Drake grabbed his wrists. Had he run out of freebies? Before Drake started countering, Pyr hooked his leg through Drake’s to try and destabilize him or at least surprise him into loosening his grip for a half-second, so he could try again. Unfortunately for Pyr, Drake’s grip remained solid, though his stance did waver for a brief second. Not long enough to get a hit on, but just enough that Pyr could step out. Drake released his wrist and waited. One more, and then he could go on the offensive. Pyr stepped back. He was running out of time, he realised; he probably had another try, two at most, before offense became the least of his worries. Better make the most of it. He moved in again and attacked, alternating punches and kicks and making the most of his speed. Trusting in statistics was his best plan, while Drake still kept the peace. Keeping up with Pyr’s attacks was a little draining, but he managed without much thought. He was really going to have to go back to training on using the least amount of energy while creating the biggest impact. His attention didn’t waver, even as his thoughts turned. Pyr lunged in at him with a quick punch-kick combo, and Drake miscalculated. The kick caught him in the thigh, unblocked. The shock of impact took Pyr by surprise. He fell back into stance, grinning from ear to ear. “I did it, Drake!” he said, as though he didn’t quite believe it himself. Drake laughed, straightening and shaking his head. “That you did.” Pyr looked entirely too pleased with himself. What kind of instructor would Drake be if he didn’t wipe the look off the kid’s face? Felicity would never forgive him. “Now, let’s see if you can do it again, but this time, I’m going on the offensive.” He grinned and fell back into stance. Maybe, if Pyr was good, he’d treat the kid to something to eat afterwards. He’d have to earn it, and Drake wasn’t planning on making it easy on him. “Let’s go.” Pyr nodded, and the second round began. |