[The Spinning Coin] Awaiting a Challenge (Stitch, open)

[Elhaym]

Late Summer, 510 AV

The Spinning Coin wasn't exactly Pain's preferred hangout in Syliras. She barely had any money to spend to begin with, but she had been duped into losing a few card games before finally excusing herself from the table. She hadn't intended to gamble, rather she was looking for some interesting subjects to practice her art.

She sat at the bar now, furiously sketching on her last few sheets of vellum. Frustration had set in. She was in too impatient a mood for charcoal, and yet seemed incapable of capturing any detail with her thinner graphite pencils. Her subjects were steady enough, but her heart just wasn't in it today. After botching the arm length of a man playing cards, she jammed her pencil into the vellum sheet on the bar, shattering the tip.

"Ya seem a little angry, lady." a voice resounded in her ear from over her shoulder. "You gonna be allright then?"

Pain peered over her shoulder to the grim face of the owner, Gene. She could tell a fighter when she saw one, and this one would have to the epitomy of the word. Knowing that, she guessed he could tell from her bruised limbs and joints and bandaged fists that she was one as well. Hardly a conversation born out of courtesy, she assumed he was either going to throw her out, or calm her down. Maybe both.

"Yeah, i'm fine." She said, trying to conceal the icy edge in her voice. Perhaps not being able to draw someone correctly was a minor ordeal to some people, but Pain fancied herself an artist, and she took her craft very seriously despite her mediocre skills. "That stage over there, I notice you have a cage. You have fights here often?" Pain asked. Art was hard, and there were days she couldn't seem to get it right. On those days, she found that exorcise was a viable alternative. Although, she had never gone into a ring before.

Gene eyed the young woman before him. He was no fool, she did look like a scrapper, and she wasn't really buying anything. Since she seemed interested in sitting around in drawing more than anything, which didn't make him any money, letting her into the ring would at least produce a few bets and house tips. Business is business.

"Not often enough, lady. You want a go?" He barked, already making a few quick hand gestures to some employees who seemed to instantly get about to setting up the cage.

"Yeah. I do." She said. This time, her voice was pure frost. The last couple of days had been taxing, and she needed to blow off some steam. She left her satchel and art supplies in the care of the bartender, and walked toward the stage. Positioning herself underneath the area where the cage would fall, she began to stretch.

Gene's announcement of a spar opened up the crowd to jeer and heckle Pain. No one had yet come up to challenge her, but already bets against her were being made. The heckling died down a bit after Pain released a couple of stout looking kicks to warm up, pivoting her hips and throwing her legs weight into the air with practiced ease.

Pain bounced on the balls of her feet, back and forth, awaiting the one who wold challenge her.

[Stitch]

The kicks were enough to turn some of the crowd in her favor, and soon, she even had a few bets rolling in for her. There had been some people that had gotten up from their seats to challenge her; after all, wouldn't it be fun to wrestle with a pretty woman? They could easily get a few feels in while going for a hold. The minute she had released those sharp kicks though, those men had sat down. They hadn't even been able to see them, but they had heard the foot slice the air. How good would that feel, landing upon their face? This fight wouldn't be a simple matter of holding her down, and getting a few good gropes in. No, this was going to be a bit more difficult than that. Best to let an actual fighter handle her. Someone would be along to challenge her in a moment, and it might actually turn out to be a good fight.

Out of all the fighters that had stood up though, and out of all the ones who had sat back down, one remained standing. It was a man far in the back, who had been sitting all alone, un-noticed. Several heads now turned to acknowledge him, and as they did, a hush fell over the crowd. Seemingly unpeturbed, the man strode forward, a light smile on his face. It wasn't really a mocking one, or a teasing one, although the girl might be able to interpret it that way. It was more of a anticipating smile, an eager smile, like a little boy who had just been called up to bat. He wasn't particularly dangerous looking. He was in shape, that was easy to tell. His bare arms held slim and banded muscle, the appearance of a man who worked out often enough, but didn't really do any kind of bodybuilding. The odd thing though, and perhaps the thing that had drawn the hush over the crowd, was the fact that he was blind. White medical bandages were wrapped tightly around his forehead, covering up his eyes, protecting them from the outside elements. Magically though, he seemed unaffected, moving through the various people and tables quite gracefully.

A chuckle broke the hush, one of the patrons leaning back in his chair and whispering to his companion. Another chuckle broke out from the companion, and they both looked at Pain, giving her an apologetic shrug. What were they apologizing for? "Good luck, sweetie!" A man nearest to the cage belched, grinning at her, taking a swig of his mug. "You're gonna need it." What was this? Did they actually know who this blind man was? And they were betting on him?

The man stepped up into the stage, smiling at her, in this oddly loving way. He had this gentle feel about him, this rather serene aura. Stepping up closer, he extended his hand, offering the woman a handshake. Motioning to Gene that he was ready to begin, he leaned in close to give Pain a private whisper. "This one will be honest, milady. This one isn't blind, not like milady thinks. You bring all you have, and try to beat up this helplessly blind man. You do that, and this one will forget that you are a woman. Deal?"

The hand remained outstretched, and the warm smile only grew wider. She would have a clear view of his bared arm now, the shirt he wore being sleeveless. His muscles were quite defined, but not bulging. It looked as if he might be quick, but not too horribly strong. Maybe not even stronger than her.

[Elhaym]

Pain paid little attention to the noise of the crowd, although their tone seemed to have shifted away from one of mockery. Her dull brown eyes picked up on odd figure maneuvering throughout the crowd and toward the stage; a man she had never seen before. She began assessing him as he hopped onto the stage, but several things were throwing her off. For one, he appeared to blind. Second, he seemed to move very well, which was a direct contrast to her first observation. He was also somewhat lithe, not exactly a brawler. These observations led Pain to a single conclusion; he is confident, he is unafraid, and he can probably fight quite well.

Only when he grew close did she take notice of his ever present smirk. As he moved, he extended his hand and spoke, the words flowing from his mouth while his smile somehow remained completely intact. Pain shook her head, as if a fly had buzzed in her face, after hearing his words. What an odd way of speaking. This guy was a freak.

"Uh..." she stammered, reaching for his hand and grasping it with her own in a firm shake. "Sure, buddy."

The grinding sound of the cage rattled Pain's ears, but she was thankful for an end to the awkward conversation. She had expected a drunk to stumble up to the stage and unknowingly allow himself to have his face rearranged. Instead she had gotten some blind weirdo, complete with a fighter's build and whimsical personality. Pain released the stranger's hand, and backed to the far corner of the cage. She assumed a stance, typical of her style. Her left leg was positioned forward, with her hands level with her chin. She bounced on the balls of her feet, awaiting someone to announce the beginning of the fight.

Pain wasn't sure if the man who yelled was the referee or not, but she wasn't going to let this guy have the first move. He had already taken his position and was in his stance. Bursting forward, she took two long steps, quickly covering the distance between them before planting her left foot firmly on the stage's surface. She launched herself forward, bending her right knee to her chest before extending her left out in a thrusting motion. Her toes were curled and the ball of her foot pushed forward, indicating that the kick was meant to both batter and push the opponent away. Pain's teeth were bared, flinging her right arm forward and twisting her hips in an effort to pour even more power into the attack, while maintaining her left hand near her chin for defense.

Her opponent was most likely skilled. He had already gotten a small sample of her style when she was practicing, a benefit she did not have. Pain's only recourse to letting herself be attacked first was to gamble on whether or not he could keep up with her relentless attacks.

[Stitch]

She stammered as she returned his greeting, and Stitch cocked his head, a bit confused. He took a moment to examine her Aura, searching for the emotion that could have caused her quick stuttering. She couldn't be afraid of him. He wasn't really that intimidating of a guy, if at all. He knew the smile he kept on his face looked much too innocent, and much too casual for a fight. He had often feared it looked mocking, but almost everyone had told him it didn't. It usually caused opposing fighters to smile too, for they usually sensed that he was smiling a delighted smile. He was just that happy and genuinely honored to be fighting them. Perhaps that is what she was sensing too, and maybe that is why she was stammering. Perhaps it was confusion, that she had met a overly happy blind man who could actually see, and who could actually fight. And she had met him in a steel cage, no less.

Yes, perhaps it was a little confusing. He wasn't so sure why he hadn't noticed it before! He was a bit of an odd character!

Chuckling to himself, he hopped a bit, skipping the balls of his feet back and forth in order to get a feel for the ring. It had a bit of a bounce to it, kind of like a traditional raised wrestling ring. There was probably a single spring underneath the thick raised wrestling mat, which gave it a good amount of give. Someone could take a fall, or take a slam, and not break an arm or a leg. It would stun them, for sure, but it wouldn't be like getting slammed onto pure earth. Still smiling lightly to himself, he bounced back, still hopping lightly. Putting a good amount of space between the two of them, he placed himself in the opposite corner, and waited for an announcement to get shouted out, or a bell to ring. With that small and happy smile still on his lips, Stitch assumed his position, still lightly skipping up and down. Snapping his chin down, he tucked it in close to his chest, keeping his Auristic gaze on Pain. His balled fists came up, and were placed on either side of his chin, spaced out a bit. They were up just high enough to protect his jaw, and nothing more. She might realize what the stance was, if she had ever seen one of the fighters before. It was the most basic, common stance.

He was about to box with her.

She rushed for the first blow, and he hopped back a bit, keeping the now-trapping chain cage in mind. He was about a step from it. He was surprised at her speed, and surprised at her initiative. She was quick. He barely had time to study her movement before she had took that second bound, and then launched herself in the air. It was surprising, to say the least. She had gotten quite a bit of momentum, and now fully flung herself at him, a dangerously sharp foot outstretched. A flying kick? How traditional. She was light on her feet!

He was light on his feet too, though.

She might believe that she had gotten him, as her foot came that close. Suddenly though, he spoke, an odd thing considering that they were in the middle of a fight. "Wrong move." One moment he was there, yet the next he wasn't, his skipping feet taking him dancing to the side of her left leg. He smoothly exited the corner, and at the same time, left her kick flying towards that very same corner. "You are fast, milady. Very fast. A flying kick is fast, but not fast enough to be used on a fresh opponent. Think about it, milady. You move in a straight line with two fast lunges that are absolutely required to get the needed momentum, and then jumped in a flying kick that then has to be straight forward. You completely dedicated your trajectory in a single straight line, and then took to the air. What happens if this one dodges? You are left with nothing but empty space, and no response if the opponent decides to counter. The opponent could have your back, he could have your side, or he could hook your bent right knee and simply drop, dragging you down with him. A flying kick is messy on a fresh opponent who is looking right at you. It is messy in almost all situations. You have speed, and it looks like you have power. But where is your technique, milady?"

Stitch had skipped the middle of the ring, regardless of how she had handled herself in the corner. If she had smashed into it, he waited. If she had caught herself, he waited. Simply in that stance, hopping in place, a serious look now on his face. "Since you had the first move, perhaps you should have trapped this one in the corner? Or engaged in melee, then surprised with a flying knee. Much less momentum is required, and it can really surprise. They tend to come out of nowhere."

How did it turn into a lesson?

[Elhaym]

Pain's body jolted as he leg impacted against the corner of the cage, her knee absorbing the shock and bending to her chest. Her other leg pounded onto the mat as she came to ground, twisting and shifting her whole body back toward's the blind man. She had come so close to catching him with that attack. Now even as she repositioned herself, she could hear his soft voice critiquing her movements.

"Son of a bitch, he's going to tell me how to fight now?"

Words raced through Pain's mind, those of her opponent and her own, creating a jumbled mash that translated into anger. Pain's fists tightened into balls, and she resumed her stance as before. One leg forward, both hands up near her chin.

The thing that really got Pain going was that, despite his apparent need to mock her, he was right. She had little experience fighting someone who wasn't drunk, unskilled, or completely unaware of her attack. More so, he hadn't even bothered to attack her when he had a brilliant opportunity to do so. This guy was a total freak, and apparently he was content to mock her and play around. It didn't help matters that the crowd had completely turned on her, and their shouts were impossible to drown out.

"That cage is shiverin' in it's boots girlie! Ohhhh, mercy!" among other, nastier things. She didn't seem to have much support anymore, and apparently those who had bet on her were the ones spouting the particularly nasty stuff.

That was enough. Her opponent's lecture had ended for a moment, and he seemed content to allow her to make the next move. She had already displayed an array of attacks with her legs, and Pain didn't feel like yet another variation would work at this point. Her only recourse was to close in and use her fists and elbows, and see if she could lock him down. She knew her elbows and knees could do some damage, but the problem was pinning him down.

Without much else thought, Pain pushed forward again. She kept her momentum low, taking quick steps forward while keeping her guard raised. She would start with a left jab, and try her best to take his head off. Subsequent attacks would alternate between her arms, and if she saw an opportunity, she would close in to strike him with her elbows. That however was all supposition at this point. The first punch had yet to be thrown.

Pain remedied that, placing her weight on the ball of her forward left foot and shifting her body slightly sideways. Her left arm shot out like a whip, and if there was any justice in the world, it would hit him square in the mouth and put an end to his mockery.

[Stitch]

Stitch could easily hear some of the jeers that were being thrown her way, and he didn't look pleased about it. If she took any notice of him while she was giving the crowd a listen, she might notice the slightly peeved look on his face. He didn't approve of what they were doing. He would like to see any of them get up here and fight her. The only reason he had dodged that kick was because the technique had been lacking, and the move had been easy to read. If the kick had actually landed, he would be knocked out. He had been a bit nervous that it had gotten as close as it did. Would any of them have dodged it, or would they have just took the "girly" kick? They would be in for a rude surprise if they did. He would have to talk to them about manners, after the fight. She was a talented, worthy opponent, and they weren't giving her the respect she deserved.

He blinked as her Aura throbbed, and he slowly turned the angle of his head back toward her to examine her unique colors once again. The pent up frustration that she had been barely containing earlier was now fully blossoming, the confusion no longer there to hold it back. She appeared to be angry at him, too. Why was she angry? What had he done? Out of a sudden sense of renewed caution, he took a light step back, keeping his guard high and ready. She was about to make another move, and it would likely be as vicious as the first. She wasn't likely to make another mistake like that again, either.

His step back was practically useless, for she was soon upon him, almost before he had time to think.

Her arm shot out in a single strike, and he immediately tightened his guard, moving his forearms together in front of his face. It was the most common defense against a jab that he knew, besides a dodge, and he didn't seem to have the wits about him to dodge. Her fist smashed against his forearms, and he rocked a bit, the sheer force of the blow pushing him back a step. The strike pulled back, but another followed, leaving him no room for a counter. Fist after fist pounded into his tight guard, the girl seeming to have little concern for actually landing a solid blow. His forearms soon burst into a sharp ache, but that wasn't the worst of it. About ten rapid-fire punches later, and several unavoidable backsteps by him, he found his back to the corner. Already? She had already forced him back this far?

A sharp elbow smashed onto the top his shoulder, and he grunted, crumpling a bit at the knees, pain blossoming in that area as well. He nearly pushed his guard to the side, to try and protect what he now knew was exposed, but the girl seemed ready for him. Not slowing a bit, she renewed her assualt on his face, beating away at his bruised guard. Welts were already rising on his arms, and she had nearly put his shoulder out of place. She was faster than anyone he had fought in a long time. Left, right, left, right, left, right. The punches came faster, stronger. Left, right, left, right.

Left.

He was suddenly gone again, Stitch acting out of pure instinct, dropping this whole boxing facade. He wasn't any kind of boxer, and this was no match to practice the skill in. He had no idea how to defend against on onslaught of punches like that. But how to defend against a left straight? He dropped his guard as he moved, rolling at the waist, forward and into her left side. Her left punch went over his right shoulder, and as her arm extended out over the shoulder, he brought the shoulder in further and up. Stepping forward, he shot out his right elbow, now intending to push her away, to knock her out of his space, perhaps onto the ground. The elbow was aimed downwards at her jaw, a knockout blow, or just a blow to scare.

If he had the chance, he would disengage, wanting to hop out of the corner and back to the center of the ring.

[Elhaym]

Pain had at last found a small opening and dedicated herself to a slicing elbow attack. Her technique and speed had been good, and she had managed to impact his shoulder with one of the most dangerous parts of her body. Nevertheless, her opponent seemed to be standing his ground. Her fists were screaming for mercy, and she briefly wondered if they might be hurting worse than his battered forearms. Perhaps it was this momentary lapse of focus that allowed her to fall into his next movement defenseless.

Pain's left fist collided with the cage, sending a shockwave through her arm and causing her to recoil briefly. He had slipped underneath her, no, to the side of her? Pain's arm was momentarily stunned and her body was already off balance. It all happened so fast; his instep, rising with his shoulder to throw her off balance, and an elbow of his own that collided with pain's jaw. She felt a hot sensation in her mouth as her head snapped back, and she began to fall. The soft mat was a cushion, but it still hurt like hell. It was all Pain could do to ignore the blood that was funneling inbetween her teeth, but she did. As her body fell to the mat, she pushed her knees up to her chest, rocking her body back. In that instant, she pushed her legs upward and rocked her body in the same direction. The explosive forward momentum created by her back and legs working in conjunction was enough to allow her to jump to her feet without the use of her hands.

Pain's fists were in agony. She didn't normally use them so much, and she mentally kicked herself for continually pummeling him like that. Everything she was doing was so predictable. She thought of half a dozen ways that she may have been able to end the fight moments ago. Hindsight is always perfect, and Pain despaired as she reminded herself that in the heat of the moment, she had simply kept throwing punches. Punches. Like an some drunken brawler. Her inner monologue was interrupted by the stinging wound on her mouth. Her teeth had cut the inside of her lip wide open, and she could feel a lump rising just to the right of her mouth. Damn fool had almost knocked all of her teeth out.

"That was... a good move." She said, spitting a wad of blood and tissue onto the mat as she paused mid-sentence.

Her opponent had shifted his position back to the middle of the ring, and he seemed to be observing her carefully. His forearms and shoulder had taken a beating, but her fists ached despite the padding her fist wraps provided. Not to mention the blazing fire that had been set in hew jaw.

Her brief statement was the only repose he would get. She launched herself forward, pleased to be on the attack again. She didn't want to throw another jab, and she thought a kick would be expected. She decided to try something she had used with great effectiveness only a few days earlier.

He was bouncing on his feet, back and forth, back and forth. That didn't make this easy. His knees were a moving target, but if this worked, she thought for sure he would be caught off guard. She was upon him, and she began to curl her leg and extend her knee, much in the same manner he had suggested she do before. She brought her knee in an upward motion, but perhaps unexpectedly, she began to flex her stationary knee as well. She was jumping?

Pain's plan was high risk and high gain. She charged him, planning to feign a knee attack, and instead plant the foot of the attacking leg squarely on his knee. If she could manage that, she could push herself up and lean into him, and deliver a crushing elbow blow to the top of his head or face from above. If she couldn't manage that, then she would most likely end up a miserable situation.

But hey, when it came to fighting, Pain was typically an optimist.

[Stitch]

Stitch felt an odd sort of satisfaction when he felt his elbow make a solid connection with the jaw of the girl. It wasn't that he was really happy that he had managed to clock her, it was more of a relief. Earlier, he had gathered some qualms about fighting a lady while walking up to the cage. He had originally dropped the coy little sentence about fighting on equal terms to make himself feel better, as well as help her along too. While she seemed to need little help in warming up to beating his face in, he had still had a few hesitations to strike at her. Not any more. After he had given her a bit of a lesson on that reckless flying kick, she had come in, fists flying. Her speed was a step beyond his, her power a level higher, and her anger on overdrive. When he had landed that elbow strike, it had been out of pure instinct, and a need for survival. He felt happy she had taken the blow solidly, and been knocked to the mat. He had a chance to breath, a chance to relieve his aching shoulder and burning arms.

And she kicked up.

Staring incredulously, he hopped back another few steps, throwing his hands up, placing the palms toward the ground and the fingertips toward her. Breathing out slowly, he settled firmly into the stance, bending at the knee and bending his elbows outwards. He gathered air in his lungs again, remembering the flaming pain in his arms, and his shoulder. Remember the pain. Gather it into your lungs, like the air you breath. Hold for a moment, meditating. It is pain. Everyone experiences it. It is not everlasting. Now slowly release, along with the air you exhale. The pain has vanished, and is replaced with peace of mind.

He cocked his head at her compliment, giving her a quick smile, and a nod. "You are quick, milady. And strong. Faster and stronger than this one." He settled a little more into his stance, bending a bit more at the knee. He wouldn't back down again. He had to be ready for her.

Gather air. With the air, gather your Djed. The Flux. Swirl it from your veins, and gather it into your chest. He merely had a moment, but he used it anyway. He focused for a split second, seeing his own Aura, letting his Sight focus in on his personal existence. If he looked hard, he could mark out the slightly brighter lines in his Aura, the magically lit pathways that existed inside of every human body. Breathing in again, a bit more deeply this time, Stitch focused a little harder on those special pathways. Pulling at them, tugging at them in the same way he tugged for his Sight, he let the Flux flow to his lungs. There was no muscle to pull them too, not yet. But he could pull it to one location. That wasn't all that hard. He wasn't able to pull on separate pathways of the Flux yet, just all of them at once. Breath in the Flux, then breath out. Let it return to its natural flow, its natural home.

Why was she on his knee? How had she gotten such a dangerous foothold onto his position? Had he been out of it this long?

Stitch was once again saved (somewhat) by pure instinct, snapping out of his stupor and jerking his body to the side. Her footing on his knee would be offset, and her blow wouldn't strike the planned location, but it would certainly still strike. As he tumbled to the side, confused and disoriented, her elbow made contact with that same shoulder as earlier. A loud snapping sound echoed out as she either broke, or cracked something, Stitch's face contorting in pain for a brief second. A brief grunt echoed from his lips, but from his white features, he was obvious he was holding it in.

They both tumbled, unless Pain got her footing, Stitch landing roughly on his side and hurriedly trying to regain his footing.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

[Elhaym]

Pain felt an elevated sense of wariness as her she was in the midst of her attack. She had managed to get right on top of this guy without much of a reaction at all. In fact, he almost seemed to be in a stupor. She was upon him, digging the ball of her foot into his knee and bringing her elbow down in a most brutal fashion. This sort of attack could end a fight quickly, and a flash of smug content at landing the blow danced throughout her mind.

Then it all fell apart. Pain lost her footing, her balance lost. She felt a collision between her elbow and bone, but she had no time to celebrate. Her foot pivoted and slipped from his knee, sending her into a freefall towards the ground.

"Shyke." was the only thought that crossed her mind as the world spun around her. The impact was hard. Pain landed squarely on her right shoulder, causing her head to snap and also impact the mat on the right side. Her body impacted next, and put even more stress on her right arm as it folded underneath her weight. She rolled onto her back, and then back onto her stomach, attempting to push herself up with her hands. Her left arm faired well, but for the moment her right arm failed her. Pain managed to get to her feet, swaying, and turned to her opponent. The impact to her jaw earlier was hurting more with every passing second, sending a steady stream of blood running down her face and off her chin.

She had hit the cage twice, both bone jarring blows. She had taken a vicious hit to the face, which was major source of pain. Her knuckles were bleeding. Her right shoulder throbbed and her arm was awkward for the moment, and hurting. Not to mention two hard impacts onto the ground, and another blow to the head. Pain surmised that she was probably in worse shape than her adversary, despite her continuous offensive.

Now, dazed and hurting, Pain rose her fists to her chin and pushed her left leg forward, adjusting her weight distribution and bouncing from foot to foot. She concentrated hard, keeping her weight on the balls of her feet near her toes. She had no idea how hard or where she had hit the blind man, but she could see he was gathering himself for another round. Her right arm was sluggish; it had taken longer to position it than her left. Pain became distinctly aware that he would have seen this, and would monopolize on the opportunity. And at that moment, the oddest thing struck Pain; a notion that she had somehow managed to overlook throughout this entire bout. There was absolutely no way he could see that her right arm was hurt.

"This guy is blind! How is he managing to be so effective? This guy is really strange..." she thought to herself, squinting at her opponent. She didn't know his name, or how he became so good at fighting. By the looks of it, the two wouldn't be friends by the end of this match. Despite, she intended to find out exactly who this guy was.

[Stitch]

Stitch's fall was a little more intentional, and he was lower to the ground than his opponent was, so the ground treated him a little better. It was still a rough fall, but he was able to tuck his shoulder in a bit and point it at the ground, nearly pulling off a nice recovery roll. He was lucky he didn't land on his other shoulder, as he wasn't so sure what that would do to it. He hurriedly pushed himself up, using his right arm to do so. It was the left shoulder that was injured, best not to use it. But how bad was the damage? Quickly springing to his feet, he rotated that arm a bit, as if working some of the kinks out of it. He couldn't help but to wince though, a sharp pain flooding from his shoulder, to his collarbone. He was still able to move it, that was a good sign. He was pretty sure she had cracked it though, which was going to leave it weak. Too much agitation would cause a break. He grimaced, starting to bounce back and forth from foot to foot, checking out the rest of his body. He was aching a bit from the exercise, but that was it. His arm muscles were the worst, flaming from the pain of blocking all of those aggressive blows. She was a powerful and quick opponent, and he was lucky he hadn't been injured more. That was one of the reasons he disliked fighting here so much. People tended to break bones before they were satisfied.

He glanced his Auristic eye to her, and studied. She was swaying a bit, and was bleeding from the mouth. It looked like her right arm was a bit injured, as she was moving it slower than her other. Was she right handed, or left? He should have made a note of that when the fight had started, but he had been too excited to begin. As much as he hated to admit it, fighting was fun. A civilized spar was much more tasteful, but a good brawl was okay to. He didn't much like random violence, but it gave him good practice. It helped him learn control. He could still be civilized and peaceful in a brawl, even if his opponent wasn't. That was something he was putting into practice here, in a way. She had done nothing to really make him mad, and he hadn't lost control of any of his blows. He had really only made one blow. She, on the other hand, had anger rolling from her Aura. It was a bit dimmer then it had been before, but it still lingered. So did curiosity. Had she just now noticed he was blind?

Grinning like a fool, he stopped his hopping from foot to foot, tilting his head toward her. The fight was about to reach its peak. She had slowed down, and she wasn't pressing the attack. While his single joint might be more damaged, and more in pain than any of her joints, he believed that all of her damage combined was a little higher than his.

Or at least, her fatigue was farther along than his.

Stitch's smile was back, and that might be enough to feed her now tiny flames of anger. He had a bit of an idea, now. Another lesson he could teach her. Stitch flexed a bit, rolling his shoulders, painfully aware of his collar bone. He settled into another stance by bending sharply at the knees, right foot forward and pointing at her, left foot pulled back and pointing to the side. He faced her head on, not wishing to be afraid, not wishing to be cautious. This was not the time to back down from her challenge. She was a challenge. A flicker of fear was alight in the back of his mind, fear of her speed, fear of her power. He took a deep breath, raising both of his palms to about chest level. Pain exploded once more in his collarbone, and he went white for a second, his entire body twitching.

Remember the pain. Gather it into your lungs, like the air you breath. Hold for a moment, meditating. It is pain. Everyone experiences it. It is not everlasting. Now slowly release, along with the air you exhale. The pain has vanished, and is replaced with peace of mind.

"You do well, milady. But you have much to learn. Anyone who angers you, conquers you." He took a step forward, a strong step, the single step shaking the floor of the ring. The smile grew on his face, perhaps annoyingly happy. "Anger is only a natural reaction; one of the mind's ways of reacting to things that it percieves to be wrong. While anger can sometimes lead people to do shocking things, it can also be an instinct to show people that something isn't right.” Another step forward, slowly advancing, only pausing if she took the initiative. He was pretty sure she wasn't planning to, any time soon. If she had learned anything, she would learn to use this time to catch her breath. To think up a plan. "Something isn't right about this one, is there? Is this one angering you? This one is starting to try."

Gather air. With the air, gather your Djed. The Flux. Swirl it from your veins, and gather it into your chest. He could see it if he looked inward, glancing in at his own bright Aura. It travelled like a lazy stream, gently flowing from all of his Djed pathways to gather in his chest, then to return. She might see it, the short, but powerful flexes of his chest. The muscles were always bulging to a bigger size than his other muscles, but only for a few seconds. "Remember, anger can be useful. Perhaps controlled anger. But uncontrolled anger...? Then you are left with no control, and this one is left with all of the control."

He was close, now. He took a final step forward, the ring shuddering once more. Twisting at the waist, he shot out his right heel, aiming directly at her chin. It was a powerful strike, simply a thrusting hand that would easily knock her out, or stun her. He let the muscles relax until they made connection with her chin, if they did. The muscles would react appropriately if he landed his blow, and transfer the needed power into his strike.

Had he made her madder, or had she gained control? He had either won, or taught her something, either way. Or at least in his opinion. He had it won both ways, he figured!