PM to join Different Disciplines of Unarmed Combat [Tuvya Sasarin]

[Favchean Hronis]

As his knuckles connected to the other man's face, Favchean felt the satisfying pressure of flesh and bone against his fist, and though he had pulled his punch it still sent a heated thrill within him knowing that he had landed a solid blow.

Favchean danced away as Caelum did the same. If this had been a true combat situation he would never have given his opponent time to recover from the blow. He would press harder, putting in a few knee blows and body shots to just send his opponent's body into defensive shock -if he was able of course.

But this was not truly combat, and Caelum was not a zith or other questionable being. So the taller male gave the horned male a little breather, though he still danced on his toes to keep his muscles from cooling even slightly. "You good?" he inquired blandly, understanding that sometimes an Akalak's "pulled" punch was a bit much for other races, when they were not prepared for the strength of a pulled punch.

While he waited for Caelum's answer, he would not press an attack until he got a positive answer from the other, he went through a few of the middle steps of his Kata. His left arm raised, his hand grasped his right wrist to pull it toward his body and thus it thrust his right elbow out, all in one very quick movement. Smoothly from there he went to into a roundhouse kick, though even he could tell he didn't get the clearance that he should have. He marked his kick, and because he did his leg did not reach the height that it should have.

[Caelum]

When Fachvean backed off and asked after him, something inside of Caelum clenched with surprise. Golden eyes narrowed on the Akalak’s face as if, perhaps, some still badly wounded piece of him suspected this was a trick. Only this was Riverfall and the sunlight was bright, contrasted by the pine rich darkness of Favchean’s flesh. Unexpectedly, Caelum grinned. Realizing how vastly different his present circumstances were to so many other hours of his life made him for a moment almost deliriously happy. His expression was blinding. “Yeah, I’m good,” he informed his opponent cheerfully. A few more ticks pulsed by as he rolled up to the balls of his feet and jittered lightly there, bringing up his arms in the fluid form of his kata. He did this while watching Favchean closely, the kick that to him seemed plenty high, the grace the larger man moved with enviable. Mentally he adjusted the moves of his martial dance to conform with the nature of his opponents practice; and, shortly thereafter, he brought his body to bear upon it as well. He approached Favchean swiftly and hesitated only a heartbeat to be certain the Akalak’s foot was back on the ground before pulling up his fist to aim a punch at Favchean’s midsection. If that connected, he was already rolling back his left shoulder to come up with a follow through blow that would be aimed at the Akalak’s face.

[Favchean Hronis]

This was what Favchean did[/did] it was what he truly [i]was. Everything else was simply time fillers, but this dance with the body was his true state of being. Even though today was simply a sparring, it was still a challenge. More challenging with this man then with the very few humans that had wanted to spar with him. This one was close to his own skill level, and it showed. It was also rewarding for Favchean that the man had taken a direct blow to the face with a grace that even few fighters manage.

Then Caelum grinned and said he was good, and something clicked inside the Akalak's head at the sight of the other. He had always known that Caelum was attractive and peculiarly beautiful but when he smiled so openly like that it actually stunned the Akalak who prided himself on self discipline. It was not a sexual attraction in the least, but the realization that this man was beautiful gave Caelum the distinct advantage for a tick.

That tick was all it took, for Favchean noted the Ethaefal's movement, and managed to drop his left hand to cross and sweep Caelum's punch away from his middle but he didn't have the time to duck or avoid the blow to his own face.

Caelum's fist collided with the stout bone structure of the Akalak, and though the punch was pulled, Favchean felt the impact easily, his head snapping just a fraction of an inch. Barking a laughter at his own stupidity, and acknowledging that perhaps Caelum had a secret 'weapon' in that distracting grin he had given, Favchean took the momentum of the punch, and let the hand that had swept the blow to his middle aside curve around, hoping to hook the ribcage of the Ethaefal and using the same momentum to sweep the man from his feet.

[Caelum]

Favchean's unexpected hesitation was noticed by Caelum, but he failed to realize the cause. It was an irritating habit of his to be less than self aware, both on attributes that could be considered good as well as attributes that were absolutely bad. All Caelum was concerned with at the moment was the enormous hulk of Akalak muscle in the midst of retaliating from the punch to his face. The blow caught Caelum in the ribs and the physician part of his brain automatically began to assess the severity of the injury. Need was flashing through him at the same time, however, his ranuri stirring to headier life with the continued physical contact; and while the ethaefal managed the corresponding step in his kata all the same, it failed to do him much good. He had been aiming to get out of Favchean's reach, and to get in through a hole in the bottom of the Akalak's defenses the third piece of his brain had quietly taken note of. He had not counted on the sweep, and he fell hard to the floor. The breath was knocked out of him for a few ticks, all three pieces of his mind -- healer, ranuri, and combat -- lit up with static as he lay stunned. Finally, he blinked hitched in a thick, hasty breath that was expelled on something dangerously close to a laugh. "Petch," he swore and shoved up on an elbow, then the rest of the way to sitting up.

[Favchean Hronis]

The moment the Ethaefal hit the mat, Favchean began to back up, his breathing heavy now and his body warm. One large squared hand raised to wipe at the slow trickle of blood that came from his lip, it was almost invisible against his dark skin. He shook his head, and gave the recovering male a grin.

"You did well. You pinked me nicely." Favchean praised the other, holding up his thumb for Caelum to see, though to be able to tell the dark blood from his skin tone might have stretched it a little. He dropped back into the fifth stance of his own Kata, his back -left- leg braced against the mat, his right -front- leg bent but his toes still flat on the mat as well. This would give him a good position to pivot if he needed to, depending what the other decide.

Again Favchean is giving the other time to recover and prepare because this was not true combat. If it were, Caelum would already have found himself at a loss for Favchean would never allow someone time to sit up and get his bearings.

[Caelum]

Caelum, noting the faint smear of blood on his opponent's thumb, grunted lightly. He finished hauling himself back up to his feet even while the complex layering of the Akalak's needs began to burrow deeper into the center of him. Favchean's original desire to win was unfaded, but due to their continued physical contact Caelum was now capable of divining his way through the deeper secrets of the dual natured man. The pull of Favchean's dedication to his race, to his city, to the society it formed on the edge of the grasslands was humbling. With one piece of himself, Caelum listened to the soft stories ranuri told him and he shook out his limbs, loosening his joints back up from having been jarred in the fall. Careful eyes studied the position of the Akalak's limbs and compared them with the knowledge the physician part of him knew about muscles and bones and the balance that built up the edifice of a man. It happened much faster that was likely expected. The moment Caelum was back on his feet, he was already moving, rolling forward with a sweeping kick intended to knock the larger man off balance but with forward momentum. Of course, he pulled the blow, and because he did this there was no chance that Favchean would hit the floor. But it was Favchean's forward momentum that Caelum wanted, and that he caught with a straight forward, bar knuckled jab to Favchean's stomach. He aimed for a second, follow up jab with his left fist and tightened his muscles with the intention of springing back, out of reach, before the Akalak could recover.

[Favchean Hronis]

Favchean watched Caelum closely, his body poised and ready, when his opponent finally launched into action Favchean stumbled forward at the kick just as Caelum had intended the kick to do. Some where in the Akalak's mind registered the fact that if the kick had not been pulled he would have lost his footing indeed.

Though this thought did not get much time to develop more then just a fleeting observation before Caelum's fist both landed, one in his tight stomach and the other landed more to his side. Favchean had trained enough to know that you never get out of a fight without taking some punches, so he absorbed the pain that flowed from the punches and his body had instinctively exhaled to prevent the breath from being driven from his lungs.

As Caelum darted back, Favchean took a tick to compose himself. His desire to win was still as strong as ever but there was this sense of satisfaction, of even a sense of pleasure that his opponent was giving him a good challenge. He loved winning, it was in his nature to strive to win, to beat a challenge but the beating a challenge was nothing if it was not a worthy challenge. Just like when he sparred with one of his brethren, Favchean felt a respect grow for the Ethafael, he was a good opponent.

It was just a tick that Favchean took, before he dove back into motion, almost running forward to draw close enough that Favchean was able to reach out, attempting to grab the other's arm tightly. If successful he would use it to pull his opponent forward, at the same time dropping his shoulder and squaring so that he could bring his knee up into the other man's abdomen area.

[Caelum]

Challenge fired through Caelum's system. It spread a smile over his face that was more teeth than joy, but in truth joy could come in as many colors as the setting sun and this was a man to know it. It flushed fresh adrenaline through his limbs, the fading reverberation of the blows he had landed stimulating his muscles. All of that converted desire had his feet moving in the proper pattern even as the Akalak surged toward him, all heady strength and determination. Caelum did not manage to dodge Favchean's reach for his arm and instead felt the grip of dark green fingers. His bicep tightened in instinctive reaction even as he was pulled forward, propelled by his opponent's greater strength. The whole of Caelum's hand to hand combat training had been designed around defense and opportunity, with working with what blows fate dealt you and working with or around them. Thus he stopped fighting the yank after a tick and shoved himself into it, bringing him in close to Favchean sooner than the Akalak had likely expected. That meant that when Favchean's knee made contact with his stomach, Caelum was already barreling an upper cut to his jaw. The wind was hit out of him. That had happened more than a handful of times in the ethaefal's new life of Mizahar. Still mostly bent over, he gulped in a necessary breath and shoved himself to the right and out of his vulnerable position, swiveling around the side of Favchean with the intention of coming up behind him with speed and alacrity that was unfortunately a bit slowed down at this juncture. He hoped for his punch to Favchean's jaw to have slowed him down as well. One arm snaked around the Akalak's neck from behind and he placed a foot against his heel, trying to knock the Akalak's balance off and backwards in a classic chokehold position.

[Favchean Hronis]

If Chealvan was in control, Favchean knew he would be howling in enjoyment, for the darker brother was none-too-quiet now but it did not break Favchean's concentration. Instead let his body, warm and loose, flow through the motions barely registering the sound of flesh hitting flesh. His knee impacted the stomach of the other, satisfaction growing even as pain blossomed at the fist in the face.

Pain was normal in the course of things for Akalak, especially in sparring, though it did cause him to release his hold to readjust his body. In doing so he felt first the arm slip around his throat, and then the leg slipping against his legs. Instead of struggling or fighting the hold, Favchean in a fashion that was more instinct then thought, decided to use his larger bulk and allowed his body to fall backwards, into Caelum. Instead of fighting to go forward, the Akalak threw himself back, and then to the right, hoping that his falling would tangle Caelum against his body, and the twist would -if Caelum failed to release his hold- hopefully pull the Ethaefal over and across, taking him down with the Akalak on top. If nothing else, Favchean was hoping to loosen the hold so that the breath was not completely cut off for too long, this is how he had lost the sparring match to the little myrian girl not too many years ago.

[Caelum]

There was a threshold of violence upon which Caelum had a choice. It was one he had found himself at many times in his time back on Mizahar, though those souls here in Riverfall who could claim to know him well would likely have been surprised to know it. They may well have been more surprised to know what direction Caelum had opted to go the most. The moment before Favchean threw his weight backwards and into Caelum's off balanced hold was the pivotal one. Caelum could have tightened his arm to a true stranglehold, cutting off the Akalak's breath while digging the sharp point of his knee into the larger man's kidneys. He was a healer, and sometimes being a healer just meant that he knew exactly how to cause the most damage and promote the most amount of pain. These were not thoughts through Caelum's mind so much as they were the details of possibilities filtering at hyperspeed through his meditative awareness. And to the last they were dismissed. He fell. It was Caelum's own breath that burst out of him when he hit the floor, Favchean's weight shocking through him. He brought up a knee out of instinct less than practice, and delivered a hard slap to the side of the Akalak's head. He was careful to avoid contact with the man's temple, but it was enough set Favchean's ears ringing. The heel of his palm drove into the Akalak's shoulder and he might have had the leverage, might have had the angle or the viciousness or the skill. Maybe if there was a learned observer of their spar, they would have known. As it was, Caelum's ambitious attempt failed to flip the Akalak off of him.