Closed An Unlikely Spar

[Matthew]

Her quiet analysis of his position was more accurate than she probably knew. While he had not really been taught the specifics of boxing, he had been training by a general practioner of unarmed combat. The stance was a generic one that was shared across many styles, or so he assumed. It was nothing special, merely the stance of a beginner. He had never evolved it any further, for he had never attempted to evolve his unarmed combat skill any further.

Matthew's blade was easily parried, his eyes following his arm as it was redirected to the side, blue hues looking confused for a split second before they understood what happened. A block and a push back, guiding him off in a different direction without fully opposing his force. Interesting.

Her question reached his ears and he nearly dropped his stance to turn and answer her, something he soon realized would have probably been a mistake. He held the position and allowed her to adjust him, moving gracefully with her minor edits to his beginners stance. He bent a bit at the knee to test the strength of the stance, noticing how he did feel a bit more solid and balanced than he was before. Why did he hold the blade like he was? He paused a moment and considered his reply, thinking back to why he had originally decided to assume the simple stance and hold the blade he was. He spoke slower than normal, still thinking about his response even as each word came from his lips. "When you said to assume a stance, the only one I knew of was one that an Akalak teacher had shown me several years ago. It was for unarmed combat. I wasn't sure how to add the dagger into that stance, so I just adjusted it until it felt comfortable. I don't prefer it like this as much as it was all I really knew."

A glance was thrown at her, an odd sort of pause along with a strange tone mixing in her voice and causing him to tilt his head just slightly. He wasn't exactly sure what the tone and the pauses meant, but they were simply different than her normal habits. They seemed different, at least. He couldn't really put his finger on it. "I can see how it would reduce range, but how does it reduce offensive capability? Because of the lack of range?" He worded the questions with this oddly innocent tone to his voice, a far-cry from the normally stoic Harlot and something that was closer to a curious child. It wasn't challenging her point of view, it was genuine cluelessness from someone who was eager to learn the answer to everything.

[Fallon]

Fallon gave a bob round him, eyes looking him up and down as she check him. There was a gentle push against his shoulder at that point, testing the strength of the stance that she had adopted over the years. Gaze flickered, a chew upon her lip followed by the rubbing of fingers against her brow. It explained the stance he had adopted, and in some regards it filled her with some confidence that he was not completely inept with combat - though if there was any curious thought it would be to know how he managed to obtain an Akalak teacher to educate him. Still, it meant if anything that she was not starting right from the basics with him. With a satisfied nod she pulled away, giving him a full circle this time and checking him off.

"Makes sense," she spoke slowly after a few moments of consideration, "It does do the deal on having a universal stance. It can be adjusted as necessary for different occasions and weaponry. Allows movement, and relative ease when trying to evade... at least that was what I have learned from my own few experiences. I mean... using weapon instead of punching." She flexed her fingers around the kukri hilt then, "Not much of a puncher I'm afraid. All weapons here." She shook her head at that thought - she really should get better at throwing a punch, just in case there was a day she did not have her weapons. But she was a mage, came the reflective after thought.

She gave a curl of the lips as she watched the head tilt. Trying to understand how the fighting mind would work. Readying herself before him, arm holding the kukri across at an angle. Holding it there ready to block and parry away once more, she gave a nod to him to swing if he wished to. It was her words however that slowly rippled forth, "Think of the movement of the muscle necessary to bring a blade round. If it is pointing forwards then it is the simple thrust and extension of the elbow. If need be the additional hand can come round and be placed upon the pommel giving additional thrust strength," she paused, and let him consider.

"Now, if you hold the blade backwards, you lose the blade length when you extend your arm out fully. The furthest point would be your knuckles with the edge barely touching. Try it, experiment a little. You have my time after all, not like I possibly had any work." Part of her burned at that notion - she could have been out attempting to find some employment. But instead she was teaching a harlot how to poke someone full of holes, "So, is there anything else you would like to try whilst I am here?"

[Matthew]

Matthew nodded at her words, almost not noticing as she gave him the little push, his knees automatically bending just a bit to absorb the impact of the sudden force and keep him from bobbing to the side. "If you ever want to learn the basics, I could probably pass along what little I know. A simple stance and variations on all sorts of simple blows. That is really about it, I only spent about a summer training with the fellow." He maintained the stance as she circled him, making sure he remained perfectly still for her little examination.

Movement of the muscles... he blinked, thinking back to the very same hand-to-hand combat lessons that he had just put to use when it came to his stance. The dagger absentmindedly rotated in his palm, a slow and lazy sort of spin, eventually slowing to a stop with the blade pointing forward like Fallon had suggested. "If you need help finding employment, you know I am here. I have other contacts besides just those in my own profession. You learn a lot about a city when you spend enough time bedding the men and women that reside within it." Her bitter sarcasm was completely missed, as per the norm. He turned his stance to face her, keeping his feet square with his shoulders but his arms dropped. There was something he wanted to try. He gave her a faint nod, eyes growing distant.

The Harlot thought back to the corpse he had practiced on. He had experimented, seeing what vital points could be reached with a single slash, with a single stab, and where those vital points needed to be struck from. The same thing could apply to the woman in front of him.

He moved, a short step forward and a twist at the waist. Energy transferred with the steps he took, from the toe to the waist, up to the arm that lashed up from the side like a whip. It snapped out, blade shimmering in the air, a sideways slashing strike that was aimed at the side of her neck.

[Fallon]

There was an element of being pleased when he automatically bended his knees and absorbed the blow through those simple movements. It was things like then that assisted in combat, understanding and knowing how the body worked and swayed. For a moment there was consideration to his offer of sharing the unarmed, a long enough pause, before politely she shook her head, "I will consider it, but I am sure I shall learn them in good time anyway. Thank you regardless."

She did not answer to his offer of finding employment at first, part of her was reluctant to accept it and believed it to be some form of a trap. No doubt some ploy in which to drag her into unusual events involving the whoring kind. Part of her shuddered internally at that thought. Lifting her gaze she watched the man slowly consider something, his stance turning to face her. She caught the nod in her gaze, her knuckles of her left hand returning to press against the base of her spine. Her back straightened, her form shifting as she reminded herself of those early years with the kukri. Sucking in the air she looked upon the harlot, her wrist rotating slightly as he considered his experimentation.

Fallon had to be ready, she watched the blade point forward, the quick step inwards to bring the blade edge racing across. It was fast, faster than she thought it would be at fist. A firm slash that arched round to strike against her. She did not want to know where exactly, but it was up to her to make sure both of them practiced with some element of safety. They were live blades after all. She brought the kukri up, teeth gritting as she focused on blocking and moving away. A firm thrust to meet it, a quick rise up onto her toes as she took a leap back to avoid what may have come her way. With her own blade withdrawing, she looked upon Matthew and returned to her original stance, the blade grinding away and left with the tip quivering in the air.

"Good... good," She focused at him from beneath her brow, her eyes narrowed as she took him in. He had been thinking about it, and whilst the offensive was one thing what about the defensive? How would he react, what would he do? She gave a quick step forward, back foot snapping behind the front, the slower slash to him seeking a reaction as to what he would do next, "How do you block? Show me."

[Matthew]

The blade was deflected in what looked to be an effortless motion to Matthew's eyes, his stare following his bounced blade in an expression that was still that rather stoic glimmer of curiosity. He almost looked confused as to what had happened, but he was more just curious as to how Fallon had done that. She had parried his blow and moved away in the blink of an eye. Was it a concept that was similar to the way that he had been taught to parry an oncoming blow from a fist or foot? He moved slowly, turning to square himself with Fallon, still with that somewhat casual air about him. Perhaps casual wasn't the best of words. He wasn't at all disrespectful or unaware of the danger that they put themselves in. He just knew it was a part of the learning process and did not think anything of it.

So, she was skilled. He hadn't seen her in many live combat scenarios. The Harlot absorbed the new information like a sponge, adding it to the inner tome that he already had dedicated to Fallon. It certainly wasn't one for nefarious uses. He just liked knowing as much about the world as he could, including who know what. It would come in handy when he wanted to learn something, like now. He had seen a bit of Fallon's skill, and seeing even more of it assured him that he had indeed made the right choice.

Now she was attacking him. There was a brief blink as he sucked in his lower lip and bit it, mind kicking into a certain sort of action. There was an incoming blade. What did he know about fighting and how could that be applied to what he saw now? She was moving the strike slowly enough for him to react, thankfully. Instinct called for him to use his unarmed knowledge to attempt to scoot the blow off to the side. This was a dagger fight, though. Could the same concept still be used?

The Harlot brought his blade up in a quick arc, moving faster than her so he could make sure he properly reacted. He stepped forward as well, scooting closer to the woman, eyes following his blow to make sure that he was aiming it correctly. It would catch the inside of her blade and then just give it a light push before dancing away, not seeking to lock blades with her, only looking to push her blow off to the side. He applied what lessons he had taken back in Mura, where one practically slapped the inside of an incoming wrist to throw the blow off of its course, all while stepping in to take advantage of the parry.

[Fallon]

Even Fallon could not help the subtle creasing of the brow and the nervous twitch of her throat. It was a bit too close for comfort on her front, the keened edge making way for the exposed flesh. There was only the brief flickering thought of what would have happened if it caught - no doubt a spray of red and a dead body having quickly found itself upon the floor. Her jaw gave a flex, the eyes staring down and focusing upon him as he lined himself up once more.

It was relaxed, or more over fluid - looking almost to find a mould in which to fall into that would be suitable for combat. Everyone had their own styles and ways with fighting, some had to stand and fight, others buckled to fear and looked for escape - or simply laid down and allowed themselves to be butchered. Perhaps it was the seasons she had spent fighting for survival, the years left staring into the hollow that made her repel such a notion. She was a fighter now, through and through - and thus it was up to her to protect and teach those who asked for it. There was a gentle drawing of a circle in the air with the kukri tip, a gentle sway back and forth upon her heels.

She watched his expression, the forming of thought going on behind those eyes as he considered what to do next. What was his options, well he could back away, or he could attempt to meet the blade itself. The other possibility was that he simply ignored it and went for a strike regardless - wound for wound. She watched the dagger arc round finally in reaction, mimicking her earlier moves in an attempted parry. She let it hit, the faint clink as the two metal surfaces collided. Her wrist rotated with it, allowing the push away and the withdrawal of the blade to the side. It was a good and simple trick, one she understood even in her mind that would work in a variety of cases.

He gave a step in, the kurki still continuing its slow curve back round. Keen edge made a large circle, swooping round low and then back up once more. Steadily she brought it up between them, her feet snapping together as she shifted away and out of step. There was an approving nod, a suck in of the air as she made the space once more between them. The stance returned, the point directed towards the harlot once more. Her mind slowly worked through the motions of what to do next. Her mind flickered back and forth between the training sessions over the years, what was needed now? He knew of stance, he knew how to swing the blade and how to push away if need be. It was now the combination of all three pieces in unison. For that was how a true fight happened.

Taking a careful step around, she gave a lunge inwards at him - once more of a deliberately slowed action, judging his reaction and to see how he would react. Would he fight or would he simply hold back and wait? She gave a the firm incentive of what they were to do next, "Fight me."

[Matthew]

He stood there for a moment even as she slowly lunged toward of him, eyes unblinking. It was obvious that there was more thoughts running through his head. The Harlot was a motionless statue as she approached, speedy intellect briefly puzzling over her words. Fight her? A genuine fight? Try to kill her? Or was she asking him to spar? She was approaching slowly, was he meant to do the same? In the pace of a tick or two, he decided to simply do what she said. Fallon was an intelligent person, from what she had shown him so far. She was the sort that knew what she said and meant every word of it. If she had asked him to fight her, he would take it at face value and do what he could to fight her. He didn't have many fighting skills to fall back on, but he did already have a plan. Two, actually. He didn't particularly want to use the second, so hopefully she would be satisfied with the first.

The Harlot whirled forward, twisting in a spin that would hopefully dodge any straightforward strikes that came out of the lunge. It also served to get him closer to his opponent. His cloak was thrown upwards early in the dodge, providing a whirling blur of thick cloth that took to the air, Matthew briefly resembling a pretty ballerina. It was more of a distraction, a shroud of sorts. His dagger arm would then extend outwards, the motion of the spin also bringing the arm around to strike at Fallon.

However, the dagger was no longer in that hand. It was a faked blow, a technique that he was fairly sure had a more specific name than that. It was the other hand that held the dagger, coming in behind the first, adjusting to accurately arc at his teacher if she tried to dodge or block the first blow. He had no doubt there were dozens of other ways to handle it though, many of which probably included getting to know the sharp end of her own blade.

His blue stare shimmered for a moment and the woman might notice that he was looking. His eyes were flickering everywhere on her, dull and blank, some resemblance of thought buried deep within them. Even in the midst of a fight he was the sort to keep thinking. He had no instinct nor did he find joy in the heat of the moment. To him, it was merely a form of survival.

[Fallon]

She watched the moment as he stood there, eyes still and unblinking even as she continued to move towards him. Her own eyes spoke at him, willing him to react and move against her. Teeth gritted as she felt the muscles contract and relax, the kukri still continuing its slow journey forward slowly. It was to test him really, see what he could or could not retain within his memory. And when that was done, the lesson would reach its conclusion - she just silently hoped that it would be of use to him. He became animated, the cogs of the body twisting and turning as he sprung into action.

Eyes turned to the cloak, a momentary freeze up as she watched the fabric be thrown up into the air. Distracting, it drew her attention away for a flash, her free hand rising up and getting ready to grab the incoming cloak. Know where the attack was coming from, eliminate doubt as much as possible and execute the defence. Of course, she also had to think about blocking and avoiding the dagger that came her way. She watched him move, somehow unexpectedly well for a man with supposedly limited experience in combat. Fingers grasped into the fabric now, curling, gripping and pulling it away. There was a crack of the material as she saw the dagger arm extend out to strike, her own form focused on twisting round up onto her toes to avoid.

With the cloak barely out of her immediate vision, she braced for the impact of a dagger, the grinding of steel as blades were crossed and combat insured. But it did not come, and the moment of absence caught her off guard. Eyes darted down, taking in the open hand that was thrust forward to her - a feint in every sense of the word. Her gaze moved, quick, searching looking across the body and to those blue eyes that seemed to flicker to anything and everything. Frightened almost in their glamour - at least, that was as she saw it.

Fear was something that was always useful in combat, it triggered the adrenal, the fight or flight mechanisms within the mind. With that, it set off the thoughts of survival - base instinct in every sense of the word. It was without a doubt how she managed to carve some existence out of the world and live until now. She watched the dagger arc as she sidestepped, the still gripped cloak finally being discarded to the floor. The right leg rose up onto its toes, her left bending in as she took the step back to avoid on coming damage. She felt the ground, the crease of leather onto the back leg, momentum reaching it before she pushed back in once more - slightly faster this time round.

It was the offhand that swung at the dagger arm first, focused on knocking it to one side whilst she closed the gap. Her teeth gave a grit, a downward hack oncoming with the kukri. Eyes burned, keening and looking where to strike - if it was to hit - and aimed her best for the crook of his neck. A final press of much needed analysis.

[Matthew]

The cloak had seemingly served its purpose. She had handled it skillfully but had perhaps not ever encountered the distraction being used the way that it had, seeing as how he still managed to fake her out. It was interesting to notice that her eyes had flickered to the cloak for a split tick, causing him to remember lessons from long ago that had taught him about timing. If he was remotely skilled at this fighting business then perhaps he could have taken advantage of that moment. It was something to keep in mind, at least.

But even the feint didn't do much good. She dodged his blow and then deftly swept back in, a single hand knocking his dagger arm to the side and making it completely useless to Matthew in the oncoming ticks. He had his other hand but it was in no position to be of any use. The muscles in her should were tensing and then suddenly she was swinging in a downwards blow. Another distant part of Matthew's mind made note of how her shoulder had moved in that moment, though most of the details were lost on him. She was clothed after all and it was only a generic ripple of motion that had made him take notice in the first place. At his current level of skill it certainly wasn't enough to even help him out at all. So what was he supposed to do? His mind was working in overtime, processing everything and plotting out things in the blink of an eye. Not that his overactive mind helped his current situation either. It moved faster than his body could ever hope to move.

It did serve one purpose, though Matthew wouldn't actually be aware of that purpose. With the way Matthew had programmed himself over the years, logic reigned supreme over instinct. Where instinct would dictate that he stumble backwards to avoid the hacking blow aimed at his shoulder or neck, logic would dictate that there was a much better way. The Harlot instead slid forward.

The blow would hopefully end with an arm hammering down against his neck or shoulder instead, though hopefully not with enough force to do anything but buckle the Harlot and cause a squeak of pain. He fought through it, moving low, dropping into a crouch even as he moved closer. He had to be low and close, low and close, low and close and take advantage of it.

The Doctor in him shouted a piece of advice. He used his free hand to throw out a sloppy hooking punch, one of the many punches he could remember from years ago in Mura. While the punch was awkward and wouldn't hold much force, Matthew made sure to aim it somewhere where it would hopefully count a little. It was thrown at an upwards angle into the right side of her ribcage, between the ninth and tenth ribs. It was aimed to cause blunt force damage to her liver.

[Fallon]

He stepped in to the blow as opposed to away. The gap was closed instead of lengthened, the entire body existing on a moment in which to simply overwhelm the enemy and tear them asunder. Deal with instead of flee, fight instead of flight. It was the pivoting moment that any one that picked up a blade would have to go through, or raised their fists to let them fly. Teeth gritted, knuckles striking the crook of the neck and rebounding back as flesh collided. She watched the form tuck in, shrinking almost as it dropped lower and took the momentum with it.

Knees bent, the form focused on searching where the next blow was coming from. Speed, strength, where, how much would it hurt her? Her free arm recoiled round, hand open and clawed for use. Not that she was really sure on how to. The gap had vanished to quickly, the harlot making leaps and bounds in his progression. An inhale, the eyes widening as she whole scene was taken advantage of and executed with well thought out, logical precision. The opposite almost to how she ran within the moment and existed upon the border of instinct when fighting.

The fist struck, knocking the air out of her and setting her swaying on the spot. The foot lifted, a stagger as the force rippled through her and a gasp was released. Her shoulder gave a slump, a slow and unsteady step away as she winced. Air was sucked back in, the kukri pulling away from him, whilst her free hand simply opened up and splayed against him to push away. Great sucking in of air, the gaze looking and searching to meet. It was barely she released another exhale, her foot looking to find more solid ground, "Enough. We're done here Matthew."

Arm extending outwards she pushed herself away, the kukri being slid away back into its sheath. It was not long after that her fingers were left probing and massaging her side. With a slight wince and a frown she gave a nod, "Good tactic. I think it's safe to say you have some grounding - you're also not afraid to mix things up a little bit. Just... make sure you can carry through with it. Stepping into a blow might not always help you after all. Need to take other options in. A step to the side and then in for example." Fallon eased herself down into a crouch, her fingers twiddling as she gave a glance back up to him, "But yes... basics are covered. Just keep practicing. Hear. See. Do." Her head cocked to one side then, a chew upon her lip as thoughts flickered about for a moment. A faint yawn was released, the back of her hand smothering her mouth, "Is there anything else you require? You have my undivided attention and I will attempt to answer your questions if you have any."

It was the hand that gave a flick then, finger pointing to him, "Unless of course you are done? Then I shan't hold you back nor eat up more of your time. I'm sure you are a busy man in your businesses."