The courtyard's sparring pit (private)

I was sitting on the edge of the sparring pit casually, listening to some music. I hadn't bothered changing so I was still in my chill outfit from earlier: camp tee, shorts, sneakers and shades. My lieutenant whistle was hanging around my neck on the same leather string as the one bead I was now proudly carrying. Pulling a hairtie from my pocket, I swept my dark hair up into a ponytail and waited for Ryan to arrive.

In the time between finding the right blade, a suitable sheath, and changing into something more expendable - a pair of jeans with a long sleeve Dortmund shirt and some steel-toed USMC boots picked up via surplus - Morgan had arrived to the pit. "Well aren't you just an early bird?"

He walked over to Morgan and took a seat next to her, allowing her to get a glimpse of the finer details of his outfit. On his next, two necklaces were hanging; a leather rope containing one bead and a silver rope with a pendant of a sword and torch crossing at the bottom. The latter was tucked into the shirt, but visible enough to be seen at that distance.

"So, when do we begin beating each other up?"

"Nice shirt," I said: Dortmund and Bayern München were two of my favourite soccer clubs.

Sliding into the pit, my feet hit the bottom and I paced over to the other side whilst unsheathing my sword. A tap to the leather bracelet around my wrist and my Spartan shield unfolded with the gliding sound of oiled bronze. "Whenever you're ready, son of Ares," I smiled.

OOC: It's odd seeing a European type out "soccer".

BIC: "Thanks." Ryan slid down, following Morgan's lead but staying on that end. S#!t, she has a sheild. Pulling the kopis out of it's sheath and over his shoulder (OOC: Back sheath, IDK the legit term), Ryan took a stance. "Ladies first."

OOC: It's to avoid misunderstandings. The site's full of 'Muricans.

BIC: I gave him a grin and a nod as in, Well, you go first then. Noticing he didn't have a shield, I tapped mine and made it shrink back into my bracelet -- now we were even.

OOC: Morgan, if someone confuses "football" when a place like Dortmund - which sounds about as American as Shanghai - is mentioned to mean American Football, then they need to use that Internet they're connected to to see there is no Dortmund NFL nor University of Dortmund NCAA D1, 2, or 3 team.

I've really gotta put some effort into this now...

BIC: She didn't move. Ryan offered, and she didn't attack. She "dropped" her shield, but didn't leave her spot. Shhhhhhhh*t... She probably knows what she's doing. And then it hit him: Ryan just signed his death certificate, as he was facing off against someone who not only has the experience of a freaking quest, but is also one of the best fighters of their arrival class. And he was him, Ryan "battle incompetence" Michaels, the only fight he's won being against a socially awkward Athena kid. If Ryan was a betting man, he'd put his odds on Morgan over there.

Now, as Morgan wasn't moving, Ryan was out of luck in between a rock and a hard place. Either charge in and try not to die or take a knee and run away like a p***y. And running away was never an option. So, praying to his dad that he doesn't embarrass his name too much, Ryan charged at Morgan, kopis out, ready to see stars in a moment.

OOC: Oh, I understand that. I'm just saying it's a habit I picked up over the years.

BIC: We engaged into a whirlwind of blocks, stabs and slices. I had a tendency to go with the flow whenever I fought, then use my knees, elbows and feet to deliver additional pain, or just to destabilize my opponent. I wasn't afraid of kicks to the groin or grabbing pressure points -- after one quest, a combat mission, and the battle of Half-Blood hill, fighting honourably wasn't my goal anymore.

One weakness Ryan had in this fight: not wearing a cup. Morgan had, along with somehow not bringing Ryan down yet, exploited the natural weakness of her opponent's anatomy, kicking below the belt and sending him staggering back a few steps. After taking a hot second to get his bearings, the son of Ares went back into battle with a renewed vigor, swinging the kopis at Morgan.

OOC: I tried.

The kopis caught my cheek and drew blood. The pain surprised me and I instinctively touched my face to feel the depth of the wound, but it was fortunately quite superficial. Smiling, I swung right back whilst coming with a hook punch from the other side.

While Ryan was able to avoid the blade of Morgan, his evasive action was offset by a fist to his (unprotected, and not even out of Ares-kid confidence either) abdomen. Morgan's action knocked the proverbial and literal wind out of Ryan, causing him to take a few steps back and try not to be a victim of his own mistakes. (OOC: Aka, his lack of torso armor.)

To Ryan, everything was fair game at this point. He resumed fighting by taking a swing at Morgan's legs, planning to send a more physical attack should she choose to block.

His sword caught my calf and swept it up, causing me to fall backwards. My head hit the floor hard and little red dots twirled around in my vision field. Crackling pain numbed the back of my skull. Fortunately my ADHD and battle reflexes had kicked in so that whilst I was still trying to blink away the shiny red stars, my body had already instinctively rolled away and got back upright. I felt a little dizzy, being back on my feet so soon, but readied my sword for the next attack.

Alright, that worked. But what else will...?

Now on the offensive, Ryan raised his sword and looked his opponent over. A split second later, he was changing at Morgan, his sword raised with her shoulder as a target. If that didn't work, he'd try to get even with a blow to the abdomen; revenge for the earlier hook.

As he was charging, I knew I had about a second or so before impact. Materializing a sphere of water on the inside of my hand, about the size of a tennis ball, I threw it at his face and raised my sword in a block just in time. My shoulders ached as I threw his blade back with mine.

Well that was uncalled for.

It wasn't like Ryan was not used to taking spheres to the head - it was a hazard of stray throws in lacrosse - but when a ball of water slammed into his head, that was just enough to stop Ryan in his tracks. Pulling a really, really stupid move, Ryan held onto his face with his left hand while blindly swinging his kopis at Morgan - or whatever was in front of him.

Sidestepping his swing, I tried to melt into the shadow but there weren't enough in here to successfully shadow-travel. Instead I silently moved to his back, waiting for him to turn around.

OOC: Not to sound like a turd or anything, but where in Morgan's profile is shadow-traveling specified?

OOC: It was approved during my non-admin time, I thought it had been added. Thanks for letting me know, I'm editing the form.

Once the stinging in his face had receded, Ryan moved his hand away and looked around. A quick scan of the area in front of him showed that Morgan wasn't there, but he followed the path of some footprints in the sparring pit's dirt, eventually turning around with his kopis set to strike.

I blocked his kopis with a swing of my xiphos before sweeping underneath our blades and switching my weapon to knife modus for close range, aiming to put the blade an inch in front of his throat.

While Morgan was switching from sword to pen to knife, Ryan was able to get the kopis back into an attacking position, stopping his swing an inch away the fellow camper's neck. "So, checkmate?"

OOC: The sword doesn't go back to pen, it just switches between various modes without any transition.

BIC: "Nicely done," I said, lowering my weapon and taking a few steps back. "Now the warm up's done, you wanna try some real dirty fighting?"

OOC: 10-4; good to know.

BIC: Warmup? Warmup?! That was a warmup?!? Ryan hoped she was just joking. He couldn't refuse, but he also didn't feel like getting his rear handed to him on an iron platter. "Um, sure. Of course. When are we starting?"

"For the sake of fairness, I will tell you that my weapon also turns into a whip," I said, turning around to reach the far side of the pit. "And now..." I raised my sword, smiled at Ryan, then snapped my fingers. The blade in my hand turned invisible. "All hits allowed. This won't be played fair." And I charged.

Ryan backed up to the other side of the pit, just in time for Morgan to charge at him. "Oh- that's...fun." Way, way in over his head, Ryan charged in to war duel.

The son of Ares had damn good reflexes. He seemed to know exactly where my blade would hit and his blocks made shockwaves ripple up my arms. I started using different tactics, keeping my blade as a knife for a few moments before suddenly turning it into a xiphos. Sometimes I'd aim a kick at his legs or a knee at his stomach.