Soft-spoken with a broken jaw

[mouthbreathing]

Who: Warsman (mouthbreathing ) and Sasuke (bondsoflove )
When: 25/10/12
Where: The beach at sector 4, 3PM
Summary: Warsman and Sasuke meet up for a sparring session down on the beach.
Warnings: Violence? That should be all.

[Warsman’s never been down to the beach before- he’s been by the docks, yes, and he’s seen it from a distance from sectors 9 and 10, but this is the first time he’s actually been here in person. It’s not the warmest or sunniest of days and so the area is virtually deserted (no wonder Sasuke picked it), but in a way he thinks he prefers it like this; it’s peaceful and quiet, with only the dreamy sighs of tidal froth on wet sand and the occasional seabird’s cry to break the silence.

His feet sink a little into the sand as he makes his way down to the shoreline, and the vast expanse of grey ocean absorbs his attention as he approaches. Maybe on a clearer day you could see land, but would that make him feel better or worse, knowing it was so close? Certainly part of him can’t help but feel a little wistful in the knowledge that he couldn’t come here by night- by moonlight and in any other city it would probably be incredibly soothing.

As he stands, letting the water lap at the toes of his boots, there’s a sea-wind blowing in that catches in his poncho and whips it, wing-like, out behind him. He’d like to take his helmet off, too, he realises, but he’s not here to enjoy his surroundings: he’s here to fight.

It shouldn’t be too difficult for Sasuke to spot his dark, solitary shape at the water’s edge. Until then, he’s got to stretch off and get himself ready for their sparring match.]

Comments

[bondsoflove]

[The speed with which Warsman reacts to Sasuke's movements is astonishing. It's like fighting Rock Lee, that time at the Chuunin exam--the thought surfaces that he might not get out of this without some bruises.

It's exhilarating, in a way.

But if he's going to come off with marks, he'll give back a dent or two, if he can manage it. So while he can't change the direction of his roll enough before impact, he can kick his leg out, looking for any place where the armor fits together in two pieces, or looks otherwise vulnerable.]

[mouthbreathing]

[Sasuke's too fast for him this time; his foot makes impact with Warsman's shoulder, and even if it doesn't knock off his armor it does throw off his center of balance before he can securely make the hold. He staggers- but he's already recalculating. The piledriver's out of the question now, but while Sasuke's still down on his back he could-- the Wars Legbreaker.

No. Not on someone this small. Sasuke's legs might not even be able to support his weight-- would they? It's the perfect set-up, though, and he can't underestimate him.

With a moment's hesitation more he moves to step into the hold, ready to hook his calves around Sasuke's knees and pull himself up into position.]

ninja abs are hardcore

[bondsoflove]

[He may not have a computer built into his brain, but he can tell when his sparring partner is about to make a move that could break his legs. So he wraps them as securely around Warsman's as he can manage, pushes off on his hands with a burst of chakra to assist his abdominal muscles, and manages to pull himself up and get one hand holding onto Warsman as well. The other, he reaches behind himself and wraps around the hilt of Kusanagi-- if he can move fast enough, he can get the blade against Warsman's neck, signaling a killing blow and earning him a checkmate.]

[mouthbreathing]

[A counterattack, and not one he could have anticipated from someone of his opponent's build on cold calculation alone- Sasuke's legs lock around his and suddenly he can feel him executing a powerful sit-up so that they're back-to-belly and the boy's arm is around his waist, holding him in place. The other hand--

He's armed. This position is no good for maneuverability. Distract him. Thirty processes to the second, with one outcome.

Releasing Sasuke's ankles he drives an elbow backwards; ideally he'd want to wind him out of grabbing a weapon, but with the height difference he's more likely to hit the boy's face.]

[bondsoflove]

[He sees it coming, but with his legs wrapped around Warsman's waist and both arms occupied, he can't drop himself in a safe fall. In that split second where he stops to decide whether to keep pulling at his blade or do something else, Warsman's elbow slams into his nose. Just barely too slow.

Eyes watering, he lets go of the hold and his weapon, one hand coming up to his face--his nose doesn't seem to be broken, but he can taste blood in his mouth where his teeth cut into his lip.]

First blood to you.

[mouthbreathing]

[He feels Sasuke's nose give a little under his elbow- a little, but not too much for any serious damage, hopefully- and the ninja relents. To his surprise Warsman realises he's breathing more heavily than he thought, in quick, shallow ko-hos, and that his heart is starting to race. It's only a warm up, but...

He twists his body around, relaxing out of any defensive position and disentangling them, dropping to the sand behind Sasuke with a little grunt.]

First doesn't mean last. It wasn't a very good start, anyway- I miscalculated your strength. [It's true; Robin could never have praised him for a bout won without technique.

He pauses, concerned; now that they're facing each other again he can see the blood.] I didn't hit you too hard, did I?

[bondsoflove]

[Sasuke grins at that.]

I'm descended from a clan known for our skill in battle. [He wipes off the blood from his face--it stings, but not horribly; he'd managed to pull back from the impact fairly quickly.] No. I've been hit harder. But I'll give you this; you're a lot faster than I would have thought possible, considering your weight.

[mouthbreathing]

I think I get the idea. You move a lot like an acquaintance of mine from home, though I've never fought him personally- he called himself 'The Ninja'. [Which, looking at Sasuke now, seems a stupendously arrogant name, as if there were no other ninja out there worthy of the title.

He has a little laugh of his own at the compliment, slightly self-conscious.] ... well. I'm a choujin. I suppose it comes with the territory.