PM to join Slow kicks, lazy punches.

[Wikus]

44th-Fall-515

Location: Tuvya Sasaran.
Afternoon.


Perhaps for those whom had never seen a building built with the same light materials and illuminated rooms, the somewhat impressed expression drawn across Wikus’ face could be of reference as to what reaction to expect. Throughout his life, he had discovered that tents and pavilions were the closest there is to a place one could call ‘warm’, the stone buildings being the opposite counterparts of that warmness one seeks in a home. But here, where the wood meets padded floor, one whom values freedom could find a home.

Of course, Wikus wasn’t here to claim the building as his home – instead, he found himself stuck in a room full of newbies whom were busy hitting dummies rather than admiring the curious architecture of the colossal edifice. It wasn’t all that clear how it all happened, given his lack of attention towards anything that involved another living being. One of those blue men had engaged in conversation with him back at the entrance, sure, yet due to his lack of knowledge as to the meaning behind the rather long explanation the situation escalated out of control.

Soon, he found himself lacking a few coins and, once again to the present, stuck in a room full of apprentice combatants. Not wishing to remain in place, nor to seem lost, he’d quickly dispose of his white shirt and, thanks to peer pressure, also proceed to bully the training dummies as soon as a couple moved on to spar each-other. The instructed followed constant orders from their overseer, most of them making little to none progress, while the ignorant human unleashed a blind, shabby fury upon the dummy. Little to no progress for him too.

Wikus found himself bored (and exhausted) within a minute, the sweat starting to run down his inked torso vigorously since, well, he quite lacked a physique nor the attributes needed to perform effectively. Sitting down near the hemp that composed the walls, hoping to regain some stamina, he’d glance around and effectively avoid returning to the exhaustive tasks he accidentally signed up for. Instead, he’d daydream as to where such a lazy man would get his next meal as students around him grunted and panted in effort.

[Charsi Terras]

Beads of sweat pooled on her forehead and ran down her face in small rivers. As each one dripped off her chin, another would replace it. Each furious pump with her arms brought a small grunt, and her furrowed brow caused thin red lines to form between her eyebrows. It didn't matter though. She was in the zone. She worked a tight combo on the dummies, two right jabs then a hook. One, two, three. One, two, three. Each time she did, she'd step to either side, working each dummy from each side. She gritted her teeth as she worked another combo, her breathing coming in labored bursts. Finally, she slowed the tempo, working it down to slow, lazy punches. When she finally came to a rest, her cheeks were flushed and her short hair stuck up from sweat. She walked over to the wall that Wikus sat against and rested an arm on it, recovering her breathing to a normal pace. As her heart settled down, she looked around at the other combatants. She grimaced as she saw their half-arsed attempts to please the instructor, and shook her head. She wasn't there for training. Instead, she was there for the workout. She had to remain in shape to work in the forge, and there was no better cardio than working the dummies. With a sigh, she slid to the floor, knees bent. As she looked over at Wikus, she gave a small, curt nod. "Greetings."

[Wikus]

The man, whom lacked any kind of interest to continue the lesson imparted by the instructor, instead leaned back and concentrated on procrastinating. One whole chime of workout was more than acceptable for a man that, if he could avoid it, wouldn’t mind using a weapon instead of his bare fist in order to bring down a man – a dummy, in this case. Whom shall waste time hurting his own knuckles and legs instead of dealing with the problem directly?

True, it’s good to know how to defend oneself, but like he was going to learn that watching the instructor perform the same jab-kick-swing a hundred times. Instead, he could spar against one of the other students and knock them down in a few motions. Yes, that would definitely be more useful. Laying eyes on each fighter wannabe, he was sure that, perhaps with a dirty trick or two, he could take one of them down. Yes, that blue man whom was hitting the dummy as a breeze caresses a leaf. With a knee in the gut he’d be rolling around until tomorrow’s dawn, and perhaps an elbow to the cheek to bring some more intensity to that blue color of his. Maybe, if he kicked him hard enough while he’s on the ground, he’d lose a tee----

The train of thought of the somewhat absent man was quickly interrupted, as instead his eyes were immediately trapped by the image of the approaching female – if one could call that a female. She It was short on height, but wide in frame, and with arms thick as columns – thicker than his, even. Being a man of action back in his past, he had definitely seen some female warriors rise to the top and display enormous strength, but this was on a whole different level. And she was pretty gray color-wise. The immediate conclusion for the somewhat ignorant man is that, this gray and thick woman, was indeed the counterpart of the muscular men that populated the city. It made sense, as he had never seen a blue woman before, yet the traits shared between her and the men that flooded the streets were pretty accurate.

Of course, that did not meant he liked her. His overall serious and unchanging expression took a bit of a frown as the female approached like a bear approaches a rat, unable to look away from the certainly menacing and unappealing features of the female. At least, unappealing to him. Quickly he looked away when she was nearby, focusing on appearing uninterested and neutral to her presence, though every now and then he’d glance towards her.

Finally, she stablished contact as she sat down next to him. For some reason, he found himself very uncomfortable with her decision, for her greet came shortly after and, being somewhat stuck in the room with her, he was obligated to reply. He did so with a plain nod and a small wave of his hand, without pronouncing a word to her as he both lacked the language and the will to communicate with one of these Inhumans he has been seeing all around.

He really wished to be back hitting the dummies right about this moment.

[Charsi Terras]

Charsi's green eyes flitted over the man, who merely gave her a nod and wave of the hand. The Isur were not known for their jovial natures, but being impolite was frowned upon. Her cheeks flushed again from anger, and a spark in her eye told Wikus that he had insulted her. If he cared.

She glared at him, jaw set and chest heaving. To be written off by this man, this Drykas, was an insult that she wasn't prepared to let go. Charsi hadn't been in a real fight in a very long time, but that didn't stop her from raring to go. She rose to her feet, which wasn't as impressive as it was in her head, and stared down at the man. Her jaw flexed and unflexed, and she stepped back.

"On your feet."

She waited for a flicker of recognition for the Akalak language, Tukant. When she didn't see it, she reiterated in Common.

"Get on your feet."

She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for Wikus to stand.

[Wikus]

There was no need of an expert eye to identify the current problem - he had failed to conceive his dislike of the alien being and, now, he was going to pay for it one way or another. While he was certain a few of his coins would be enough to calm a raging inhabitant of this strange location, never would that be the solution he'd choose when confronting a female. Sighing, he took a few moments to think about his next move - since, of course, he realized that the thick tower of grey flesh was now searching for his corpse to be crushed by it's surely enormous weight.

Nevertheless, this place was meant for fighting, and perhaps the female could learn something after she's defeated - there was no way for him of all people to lose against a woman, no matter how strange she was.

Standing up lazily, his height was certainly superior to the female, tho he clearly wasn't as muscular as she was. The hidden arrogance within him shined brightly as his head tilted back and stared down at his opponent, brow arched yet still keeping his unbreakable serious attitude. He had already cooled down enough to perform somewhat efficiently, and his breath had been soothed back into it's comfort zone.

Wishing to discourage the gray muscle monster that stood before him, he'd wave her off with confidence.

[Charsi Terras]

Sitting against the wall, Charsi followed the man's movement as he stood. A fiery gleam leaped into her eyes as she realized that he was measuring up, and without standing, she cracked her neck. She leaned her head back against the wall, and without using her arms at all, shoved herself to her feet. She stood in front of him, a full foot-and-a-half shorter, but that did not seem to matter to her. Her cheeky smirk said it all. She and Wikus may not share a language, but the cockiness in her expression was universal. She took a step toward him to be right next to him, and arched her head up to look him in the face. She never lost the grin.

"Wrong choice." With that, she took two steps backwards and bent her knees, bringing her arms up. Her fists balled, and she settled into a comfortable stance. Though she had no formal training in hand-to-hand combat, she had spent enough time around the warrior-like Akalak to have picked up a few tricks.

Her right arm and leg were forward, putting her Isurian arm as her power-arm. She gauged the distance between the two of them and grinned. Wikus had quite the reach on her, but she wasn't worried. He wasn't very wide, and she was built like a brick outhouse. She stayed in her defensive position, waiting for him to make the first move.

[Wikus]

Few times had Wikus ever raised his arms to defend himself or assault something that wasn't a meal. Violence, specially without the intention to seriously damage the health of someone, was nothing attractive. The fact that the female before him expected a fight meant that, this once, he'd have to bend to the situation and obviously defend himself. Perhaps afterwards he could finally leave the awkward scene he had somehow managed to get involved into, and instead do something more productive than beating a woman.

Because he was going to beat her. Watching as she assumed an apparently battle position clearly meant she was cautious, and in spite of trying to look confident, caution often meant fear. Slowly he moved away from the walls and circled around the room until he was far away from borders - he surely would need a lot of space in order to assess victory on such large female. The instructors and the few novice students that still followed directions halted and moved away from the pair, their interest being focused on learning instead of watching the two visitor's spar. The room was big enough to fit both the improvised spar that was about to take place and the one organized between actually experienced fighters, and still leave room for the dummies to be mistreated.

Finally, it was time to face this head on. The female was way shorter, which was an immediate plus despite her condition - being a woman, that is. The females that roamed the Riverfall streets were no competitions to those that ride across Endrykas, the first simply enjoying the male attention and inflating their egos while the latter fought hard in order to earn their worth. His opponent, even if not quite arrogant as the women outside, was still in Riverfall and therefore part of the same group by association.

Without any training in the hand-to-hand arts, the man's bold and strategically deficient choice was to simply remain neutral regarding stance, and with that same relaxed and unprepared fight attitude he'd step forward and, leaning back as he brought up his right leg, would attempt to break the female's game by delivering a harsh attack on her chest that aimed to shove her with the plant of his foot - if successfully delivered, capable of applying enough force to effectively shove her back and break her guard.

The plant of his foot was, of course, pretty unwashed, as that same flesh was the one to carry him around the world and effectively substitute footwear.
OOC noteThis is going to be fun xD

[Charsi Terras]

Charsi anticipated the blow, lowering her guard and taking the full brunt of the kick to the abdomen. It did push her back, and it hurt like nothing she'd faced in a while, but it didn't break her resolve. It did, however, push her close enough to the wall to have something solid at her back. She smiled a devious smirk through the pain and offered a few right jabs, testing her distance between the man and herself.

It wasn't too much distance, and Charsi was counting on it. She threw in a right kick, trying to draw Wikus' guard low, to defend his legs. Almost as quickly as she planted her foot, she put her left on the wall behind her and shoved off. She flew towards Wikus with her right arm cocked back, aiming for a superman punch to his jaw. If the hit connected, she could use the force of the follow-through to roll right around him and put him in a chokehold.

If it didn't, the force would still be enough to carry her through, assuming he didn't trip her.

[Wikus]

As the female received the hit, no matter if it hurt or not, the simple notion that she was indeed pushed back only brought comfort in the man - there was nothing more pleasant than a plan that actually worked. None the less, the female did not seem to have enough, instead throwing a few jabs that not only wouldn't reach him as he leaned back to increase furthermore the distance between the two, but didn't quite match his relaxed stance as he was somewhat neutrally letting his body flow without any tension. He didn't fear the female at all, reason why he didn't even bother on assuming a guard. Said decision was perhaps effective on providing extra mobility to hinder her attempts, yet would surely cost him dearly if she was to actually connect a hit.

Following her futile punches came a kick, which was pretty poorly delivered as he instead of attempting to block it due to it's lack of any apparent force, he attempted to deflect it with an outward spat from his left hand. As soon as the hand reached the leg, the intent quickly failed - having underestimated the force of the kick that now instead hurt both his wrist and the leg it collided against, somewhat breaking his already unprepared stance and sending him a few steps to the right, completely exposed.

He was no fool - he could see a finisher attack coming when his rival flew through the air towards him. Whatever it was that was coming, it certainly wasn't something he'd want to wait for. While not really conscious of his current position, sub-consciously he imagined that stepping backwards in order to escape the attack would be futile as she not only was approaching at greater speed than he'd be able to retreat, but also his lack of a guard was also a huge fault that wouldn't allow him to escape. Instead, he only had one slim chance of doing something against the one-hit-storm that was approaching - face it head on and approach it before it approached on it's own.

While the idea may seem ridiculous, it was logical to end a motion before it had gained it's most power, and receiving a half delivered hit was far better than waiting for the perfect shot to align. In a desperate attempt to save himself from whatever storm the female had engineered for him, he'd lean forth and somewhat bend his knees intuitively in order to buffer the force that was surely to hit him. Tilting the head down in order for it to remain in a neutral position, soon all his defenses would be brought down as the female's hit would directly impact on top of his head - a blow that was stunning at best, and extremely exhausting as all the muscles from the neck down to the knees were temporarily paralyzed due to the extreme stress they took from the hit.


If the female's balance was sufficient, she'd have room to pretty much do anything - in his current but brief dazzled state, even a push would send him to the floor.