1165/Shall We Dance

Shall We Dance
Date of Scene:	27 June 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Ares, Terra

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Ares has posed:
    Rainfall in the city has a way of making everything smell new. It washes away the dust of the day, and causes a faint haze to drift across the streets during the long hours of a summer evening. The storm fell and broken just an hour ago, leaving but droplets for now to patter faintly upon the windows of the tall buildings that line the streets. What traffic there is at this evening hour splashes at times through the few puddles, and the sheen of water over the warm surfaces causes all of the lights of the city to seem reflected against the dark.
    But the school off of 33rd is still active at this time of the night. Just a block away from Chinatown and a few strides up several flights of stairs. It has little ornamentation on the outside save for a single small sign that hangs from one of the soaped over windows. A sign that says but one word in Cantonese, 'Xunlian' or Training to those that are capable of reading it.
    Inside the textile mill converted to training hall the place is primarily one wide open space where even now six students are training together under the auspices of an older man who seems to be paying not one whit of attention to them. Their footfalls are strong and sound faint echoes within the confines of the room each time they move and plant for a strike. There are short /whumpfs/ of impact when one strikes another, small grunts of pain, and at times when one manages to get the better of his opponent a shouting, 'EISSSAH!' is heard or a, 'KIYEAI!' to signal victory in the moment.
    They train upon a far section of the floor, a set of weapons are hung upon the wall near to them. On the opposing wall is a mural of a dancing dragon and tiger locked in deadly combat. Across the way are a series of doors, perhaps leading to an office, or perhaps a locker room of sorts. But next to those doors is a small shrine from which a bit of incense burns.
    At the moment a tall man familiar to her is speaking to the wizened older sensei who seems to be ignoring his students. Their words are quiet, calm.
    "I should warn you, that the Paper Monkey is in the area again." John is seated in a lotus posture, legs folded precisely and his side given to the sensei as he speaks.
    The old man responds, "Do you believe she will offer challenge?"
    "Perhaps, Zhao. You should ready yourself no matter the answer, however."

Atlee (1034) has posed:
Just as well the rain is done, as pleasant as it is. Means Dinah could leave her umbrella behind at her bike instead of lugging it along. She does have her duffel with her, but already has changed, a black leather jacket worn over a royal blue sports bra top and tight fitting shorts. Still has her boots of course. It took a bit to find this place, as it isn't entirely well advertised.

But the sounds of practice carry enough taht she's sure she's in the right place, stopping in front of the old mill, then tugging the door open as she steps inside, glancing around as she finds a place to kick off her boots and set them aside, setting down her duffel as well to pad silently over to the side of the mat, clasping her hands behind her as she observes.

As she spot John deep in conversation she smiles a bit, but patiently waits for the moment, instead turning her gaze to the students, taking in the style they're practicing. After all, it's part of why she's here...to learn.

Ares has posed:
    Northern style at first, that much she can discern. The way their forms move and adapt to the shifts and flow of their opponents. A curious adoption of Crane style that at times blurs into the close in work of Tiger. In some ways she can tell that the students are fighting in these styles perhaps not because they are most used to them, but perhaps more as a restriction for them to improve on their techniques.
    Yet as Dinah enters they do not break their sparring, they continue to keep their focus entirely on their partners. One girl barely out of her teens seems to be gifted as she is routinely striking her opponent in a steady rhythm. He'll defend, defend, arms swirling and then like clockwork on each fourth movement she strikes, causing him to lose his balance or stagger back. And each time she looks a little smug about it.
    But when Dinah arrives one of those doors opens and a bent over older Asian man emerges, walking to her at speed with a polite smile. Not as old as the master who is holding court, but perhaps an assistant? Whatever it may be, he draws close to her, "Please forgive me miss, but we are closed for the day. Might I suggest the YMCA down the block?"
    He bends over further, a small form of a bow as he tries to perhaps dismiss Dinah. But it is a testament to the closed aspects of his senses that he is not aware of the gifts Ms. Lance possesses.
    Yet an incident is perhaps averted as she'll see the tall man she had come there to meet step forwards from behind the assistant, his eyes meeting Dinah's and him saying quietly, "Ms. Lance is my guest, Tsao."
    Which causes Tsao to look at her curiously, "Ah forgive me," He steps back and begins to depart.

Atlee (1034) has posed:
Dinah watches intently, enough that she doesn't turn her attention to Tsao until he's getting close. At which point she turns to politely give him her attention. At the mention of the YMCA, she raises a brow, her lips starting to part in response, but John manages to cut off any response she might have made with his arrival, drawing a faint smile from her. "Not a problem." she says simply at Tsao's apology, then turns to John.

"Interesting style. Like Crane with a bit of Tiger, but more flowing movements." she comments thoughfully, if quietly, not wanting to disturb the practice. "The stances are modified. Still a lot of focus on legwork."

Ares has posed:
    Turning to stand at her side, he folds his arms over his chest, mirroring her posture in a way as he looks to the students, "Each evening they are given a set of parameters and then set to match against each other." He lifts a fingertip to scritch at the stubble along the curve of his jaw, his attention now on the movements of the students. Several of the students steal glances at them as they circle their opponents. There is something definitely different about Ms. Lance to them, at least John Aaron they know. But then it could also be simply their rather pronounced height difference.
    "My friend, Zhao." A subtly different pronunciation than Tsao, "He teaches them, then presents them to some of the elders of the city, and if they are strong enough students they are offered training elsewhere." As to the where he does not say.
    "They should be finished soon, shall I introduce you?" He gestures with one hand towards where the old master is now looking on the movements of the six acolytes.

Atlee (1034) has posed:
    There has been a shift to her stance, perhaps unconscious, a slight shifting in stance as she watches the strikes being thrown, as if she's considering ways she'd respond to them., even as she absently brushes a lock of her blonde hair behind an ear. There's an approving nod at the explanation of changing practice parameters. Always good to mix it up a bit, Dinah finds, her eyes still on the students thoughfully. "Explains the low numbers." she murmurs, then turns her full attention back to John as she grins. "Please, if you would." she says, nodding slightly. "If it wouldn't interrupt too much?"

Ares has posed:
    A nod is given to her and then he unfolds his arms to start and walk around the practice area. He's dressed informally, just wearing white socks, some grey sweat pants and a black t-shirt that actually fits him as opposed to the one they 'liberated' the other night. But then he steps past that small shrine and to the small dais that has the pillow the older martial artist is sitting upon. He lifts his hand in a wave, not rising as seems fitting for someone of his age.
    "Ms. Lance," He has not a whit of an accent, "John told me of you. Welcome. You are welcome to make use of these facilities as you wish." He offers her his hand for a small shake if she would, and should she accept his grip will be fairly strong though not as strong as hers perhaps.
    "She would observe. And then we may train some afterwards, if that is acceptable." John looks at the old man with a faint smile.
    "Of course, Guan Yu. Of course. We will be but a moment longer."
    And then, as if to punctuate the man's words there will be a short sharp /CRACK!/ with a screamed, 'AIYAHH!' as that one martial artist she saw earlier stands over her opponent even as he clasps his arm to his chest and winces with clear pain.
    Even not having seen it directly, Dinah can most likely read the technique used. The turning arm lock, the holding of his forearm against her knee, and then the palm-hand strike to the elbow that dislocates it. A cruel strike, assuredly. But that practicioner seems entirely pleased at the effect of her finishing strike.
    "Tingzhi yiqie zhandou!" The old man snaps as he rises to his feet quickly, apparently more spry than he lets on. He walks over to the fallen.

Atlee (1034) has posed:
    A smile graces Dinah's lips as she takes the hand, bowing slightly to show respect as she does so. "Thank you for the privilege." she says warmly, straightening as she speaks. She raises a brow at the name given to John, turning her head slightly, curiosity evident in her eyes, before the sharp sound draws her attention, as she spins around.

    There's a faint hiss of air between her teeth as she takes in the injury, following back what likely happened. Once she does, her glance towards the other woman is level, her lips thinning faintly. But it's not her place to step in here. Not her dojo, not her students. She holds back for the moment, stepping a bit closer to John. "...violent girl." she murmurs. "And I know of what I speak."

Ares has posed:
    "Yes..." John's voice is a little sharp as he peers at the girl who steps back quickly from her opponent. There's no pretense at innocence, no remorse. She simply rests her hands at her sides after adjusting the hang of her dark sash. She looks up across the way at Dinah and for a moment meets the blonde's blue eyes. She sniffs slightly, then looks at John and cocks her eyebrow, as if asking a silent question of the man.
    John, for his part, frowns.
    But then Zhao is kneeling beside the fallen student and resting a hand on the young man's arm. "Be still. Shh. All will be well." He looks to one of the other students. "Hold his shoulders, please."
    The other student steps into place and makes to do so. The injured student grits his teeth and nods...
    And then Zhao takes hold of the boy's forearm and lightly rests the palm of his hand upon the elbow. There's a short /jerk/ of motion and a rough _pop_ followed by the student crying out, but now able to move his arm.
    Rising, the old master looks about him. "Class is dismissed for now." He affixes eyes on the girl and then gestures for her to follow him.
    "The school is yours, Guan Yu." Zhao gives a small nod and then executes a short precise bow to the man, curious that the head of the school would show such deference.
    Yet after that... it only takes a minute... two. And they are left alone there.
    John turns to her and says quietly, "The girl, Mei. She will most likely be advanced."

Atlee (1034) has posed:
    Blue eyes watch the master and student step away, her gaze steady even as Mei looks her way. It's only when they're off the mat, the other students filing off to pick up their things and head out, that she turns her gaze back to John. "Ah. Is that a goal of teaching here, to find the most ruthless?" she wonders, her tone neutral. It wouldn't be the first time she was in a dojo like that. After all...being ruthless wins fights.

    She steps away for a moment, stripping off her socks to toss on her bag, before turning back to step onto the mat that the other students have left free, before turning back to face the man called 'Guan Yu'. "Interesting nickname, by the way." she offers, starting to stretch, arms over her head as she limbers up. "Not the best ending for a general, betrayed and executed by a supposed ally."

Ares has posed:
    "Bloodlust and ruthlessness often does decide battles..." The tall man for a moment seems distracted, his thoughts distanced as he considers the door that the sensei had passed through. "And there was a time I would agree entirely." But then he shakes his head and looks back at her, brown eyes meeting her gaze levelly. "But..." He gets a faint smile and tells her, "Sometimes I feel like it's not just enough to win."
    He steps along the mats and lifts one leg to pull his sock free, tossing it aside as he tells her. "You need to win well." But that having been said he switches legs and throws the other sock off towards the edge of the mats.
    "How do you wish to train? Shall I offer what techniques I know and you critique, or did you wish to spar and see what each of us knows?"

Atlee (1034) has posed:
    "True...but honor and discipline play a part too." she returns, twisting at the waist, then down to touch her toes, before coming up and meeting his gaze directly. "And sometimes how you win is as important as being the victor."

    She finishes her stretch, bouncing on her toes before she spreads her feet out, adopting a neutral stance. "Let's spar. I'm curious whatcha got, general." she murmurs, teasingly, bringing up her arms in a guard position. "If you suprise me, I can always ask what just happened." There's a twinkle in her eyes. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Ares has posed:
    As she had been partially through her stretches he had begun his own. Though his movements were not quite as quick or smooth as hers. When he steps onto the mats, feet pigeon-toeing slightly as if getting a feel for the subtle compression of the fabric under step, he'll turn to the side with his hands on his hips. There's a faint crackle as his joints ease, then he bows over smoothly, surprisingly flexible as he bends like a supple reed, grasping at the backs of his calves and bouncing a bit as he holds that stretch.
    It's just held long enough for his shirt to fall to his shoulders, revealing the firm yet powerful lines of the tense cords of musculature that lines his back. Subtle scars trace a small latticework over his bronze flesh and then disappear as he rises, the t-shirt falling back into place.
    When she slips into her stance he looks at her and smiles slightly, turning his hips to the side to face her edge on, dark brown eyes meeting her gaze. "Alright, but don't worry about my ego. No holding back. Promise?"
    And as he says that last word he slips smoothly into his own stance, just one foot edged forwards faintly, and a hand at his side rising but three inches and opening as if ready to accept whatever she dares offer him on this altar between them.

Atlee (1034) has posed:
    The scars draw a thoughful, if quick glance, but she's ready to meet his eyes again when he rises to look back at her. "That's the way I like it, hon..." she says simply, teasing but with a tone of honesty behind it."

    She starts to circle, alert now, moving in a slow, lithe step, measuring the man across from her. Her eyes still retain a twinkle, but now it's more of an anticipatory light...she's in her element, and there's obvious energy to her motions, held tightly leashed but evident in her graceful prowl.

    When he drops his hand slightly, she tests first, snapping out a short, quick Muy Thai kick, not commiting too much to it yet. Just testing defenses.

Ares has posed:
    Like responds to like, as if granted perfect counterpoint. She lashes out and there's a short impacting jolt up her leg as he lifts his own and accepts the impact. Those eyes of his, gleaming with their own subtle anticipation, hold hers as she moves and when she lashes out he smiles even as he turns his hips and offers her a low side kick of his own, but then adding a quick backfist to check if she will be able to catch it in time...
    Which she can.
    But it's just a smooth give and take, a faint thap-tha-thap as flesh strikes flesh there in that old dojo that has seen generations upon generations of fighters.
    This moment, however, this particular moment as they begin to gauge each other, the beginning of a fight when two artists strain and strive against each other. It is often such a strong sensory thing. For him it is all clear. The sight of her, the smile in her eyes even as she looks so intent upon him. The feeling of the mats under foot as he moves slowly around her. The subtle scent of the dojo, the sweat and exertion of so many fighters tasked against each other...
    And the faint sounds shared between them as they focus their breathing in this instant, the rain continuing to patter softly against the windows outside, and their strangely in time heartbeats that signal the focus of the two fighters... each entirely on the other.

Atlee (1034) has posed:
    Dina recovers smoothly from the block, twisting to catch the kick with a forearm block then just leaning backwards to avoid the backfist as it whistles past, lips parting in a grin now. This is what she loves...the challenge, the dance of a good fight against a skilled opponent. Just her and the other guy, seeing what they've got.

    Her breathing remains steady, her eyes staying on John's, looking subconsciously for tells that will give her warning for where the next strike is coming from. Her bare feet make soft whispering sounds as she shifts her stance, continuing the circle before coming together again, this time with a quick one two punch, right than left, pure boxing strikes aimed at John's head.

    Followed a split second later by a hard knee, reverting to Muy Thai again as she tries to slam it into his side, leading with a right hook feint to try and draw his guard up above where it can catch the leg strike.

Ares has posed:
    And yet he seems so calm, so in control of the moment as she presses him. She comes in with those blurringly fast punches and his own arms are up, providing shelter as he ducks behind his forearms. She can feel each impact of those punches, one smacking just under his wrist, but the other pushed off to the side by the pressure of the man's stance and a shift of his hips. His eyes narrow and his own straight snaps out, brushing past her ear and teasing a lock of her hair for a bare moment before it slides back.
    She twists and kicks up and off with that one leg, bringing her knee hard into his side and she'll feel it connect with the rock hard tensed flesh, causing him to wince slightly. It might even be a good enough strike that she might even feel a moderate touch of satisfaction.
    Satisfaction that's short-lived as instead of retreating from the hit, he accepts it, letting her leg slide along his side instead of drawing back he presses in, pushing his shoulder into her guard and then /twisting/ smoothly to try and sweep her legs out from under her with a low back sweep, trying to rob the balance from her and the initiative.

Atlee (1034) has posed:
    She is suprised this time...it's unusual for someone that built to move so quickly, enough that she can't quite disengage by just hopping back. As the sweep comes around she throws herself backwards, arching her body as her feet leave the floor, narrowing missed by the leg as she lands on her hands, flipping backwards to come gracefully back up into a stance again, having put a bit of distance between them.

    "Mmm, you're faster than you look..." she says, approvingly, a few strands of blond hair falling across her cheek, mussed by the movement. Definitely can't get in close...if he gets a hand on her she won't be able to break the grip easily.

    Instead, she dances now, shifting in closer, planting a foot as she spins into a series of whirling Hapkido kicks, low then high, her heel arcing around to try and connect with his thigh, then his upper body. Testing to see if he'll fall back or stand and defend.

Ares has posed:
    "Yah, according to some people I'd have to be." The tall man gives her a small hint of a smile that reaches his eyes as he keeps his guard up, holding his place there some few small feet away. For a time his back is to that bank of windows, and the light behind him limns his strong silhouette, letting him shift his leading foot slightly, the fabric of the mats whispering a faint complaint of displaced air.
    But then she's moving in against him again. Her legs are long, and well developed, each of those kicks would land with the strength of a truck. But he accepts the one into his raised thigh, the impact sharp, then he is able to slip beneath one, swaying to the side and leaning, then coming back in from the other direction.
    There's a flicker of movement as he tries to check that last kick with one of his own, his leg lifting, chambering, and then uncurling with the speed of a whip's crack even as he leans back. For a moment they scissor past each other, legs blurring past as each both twists in time to evade and then pass each other.
    He spins back around just in the same moment she does and he brings his wrist around smoothly as if striking against a shaolin training dummy...
    Only for her to meet him right there, each holding the back of their wrist against the other... it's a moment that lingers as they each lock eyes, holding that touch as their arms tense... biceps bunching and swelling for a bare instant as they both strain holding that side horse stance, flesh warm to the touch.
    His brilliant eyes narrow, something primal coming to life in his gaze. It's there at first... and then slowly there is a ghost of a smile. Before they begin moving in the next instant.

Atlee (1034) has posed:
    There's a flash of distant lightning outside in the storm that lights the dojo through the window for a moment as they strain. The wash of light brushes across both their faces as Dinah's blue eyes meet John's again...the right one closing in a quick wink. Her chest is rising and falling faster now, but it's the hiss of breath, the draw on chi that may warn Ares of her next stylistic change.

    Her left foot slips back, as she slips smoothly into an unusual Dragon stance, sending her spinning away from the locked block, only to return in a flurry of blows: Five Horses Returning to Stable. Thunder comes in a rolling rumbling wall of sound that washes over the dojo, vibrating the windows. "Kiyah!"

Ares has posed:
    His own breathing is level, controlled, and his eyes hold hers even as she draws her strength into herself. If she were perhaps a warrior who believed more in the mystical stylings of two fighters matching against each other, she could almost /see/ the roiling fire of their chis swirling between each other, lashing out, slashing across the distance, even though they hold that stance for that moment.
    But then she swirls away, twirling through the air for a moment and adopting the stance of the dragon. It is but a moment of preparation and then she is back on him. Her hand strikes are fast, slapping out at each quadrant of his defense and drawing him into that smooth elaborate pattern of setting his defense...
    Only for that final kick to lash out as she twists and that 'KIYAH!' shout echoes off of him in the same moment as the thunder crashes. And she'll /feel/ the jolt up her leg as first her toe crashes into the side of his cheek and then the ball of her foot impacts with the force of the blow.
    It's enough to twist his head to the side and cause him to stagger back a single step. His eyes lose focus for a bare moment as he shakes his head to try and clear the sudden hint of cobwebs. Yet his training is strong and she'll perhaps be surprised that he is able to counter abruptly, a short stop-jab that slices out towards her to try and buy a moment to recover...
    But then that could have been her goal all along, to get him to fire an arm forward without thought to defense, exposing the limb in that split second.

Atlee (1034) has posed:
    In a practice bout, this is generally where the person who got the touch on their opponent backs off for scoring.

    But this isn't a practice bout, and the there's no hesistation in Dinah's movements as she follows the stagger, no moment of gloating over landing the strike. The tense of muscles along his shoulder has her following with a twist of her own, letting the short punch skim along her firm midriff as she rolls with it, a faint 'wuff' escaping her lips as she tightens her abdominal muscles against the impact.

    It's a close dance now, as she makes the split second decision to commit, crouching down as her arm comes up underneath John's even as he starts to pulls it back, catching the underside against her shoulder as she grips his bicep. She plants her foot and twists, shifting to an Akido throw over her shoulder to try and send him to the mat before he can recover

Ares has posed:
    She seizes his momentum and plays upon it, bringing him forwards, turning, and then simultaneously pulling over her shoulder while dropping down onto a knee to send him hurtling over her shoulder. For many untrained this would be the end of the bout for they would not be able to fall properly not roll with the movement. But she can feel him go with it at the last moment, turn his body just so and then hit the mats with a smooth roll, his open palm /slapping/ the mats to dissipate the force of the strike.
    Through the entire movement she keeps control of his wrist as Aikido depicts, holding it forth, twisting, her thumb precisely upon the point of pressure. Yet he tries to spread his hand to get a grip on her as well, though she has no loose shirt to seize hold of, it will have to be her forearm should he succeed. He'll use the own momentum she granted him to try and lift a leg and plant it against her hip while wheeling her over him to try and throw her onto the mats beyond him.
    And all told it is a perfectly executed maneuver, accompanied by a barked, "TSEI!" as he seeks to get her on the defensive while continuing the roll as he rises to one knee to her side and above her prone form.

Atlee (1034) has posed:
    Again, Dinah is suprised by the dexterity her opponent shows as she rides him down, naturally moving to try and shift into an arm lock to pin him against the mat. Instead, his twisting motion causes her eyes to widen, another flash of lightning shining in her eyes as she feels it coming in how he moves, how his center of mass changes with the twist.

    Even then, she comes down solidly, releasing his wrist and slapping the mat to break the impact as she lets out a grunt, rolling as John comes down beside her. On her back, she's vulnerable, and she knows it...so she lets herself keep rolling, trying to use the motion to get herself back into a low stance, one foot planting behind her to stop the motion and let the kinetic force push her up to get her other foot under her.

Ares has posed:
    The short whirl of two strong bodies each trying to gain the edge on the other, the soft impacts upon the mats, the grunts of exertion... coupled with the patter of the rain drops upon the windows all comes together as the thunder rumbles past them. It all seems to unite in that split second, as they both roll and move togeher...
    Yet he moves with her as well, another roll that ends with him coming up with his side to her, bowed upon the mat with his fingers splayed and supporting his weight as he lashes out to the side with a kick towards her hip, seeking to break her balance even as she recovers. But no matter what she will gain that distance as he gets back to his feet, spinning around and then snapping to a halt with his fists raised to face her.
    His eyes will find hers and for a moment he'll return that smile. But then his lips part and she'll hear his voice lift as he murmurs, "I thought you were going to show me something, Dinah."

Atlee (1034) has posed:
    There's another 'oof' as the kicks connects...perhaps not as solidly as it might have, but she can't quite get far enough away to completely roll with the impact, taking a quick stumble step to recover. Her chest rises and falls under her top as she breathes in and out, as she stays in her low stance, considering him. "Got that Five Horses by you, didn't I?" she says with a grin "Nice counter...haven't seen many who can pull off breaking out of that throw."

    She straightens, arms coming up in a guard position as she rolls her neck in a lazy teasing motion, never taking her eyes off her opponent as she does so. "Now you're just getting a swelled head...' She shifts her stand, flowing from one style's stance to another, abandoning her Dragon stance for the mobility of capoeria. She bobs side to side in a smooth motion, never crossing her feet to put herself in a vulnerable spot, before she launches forward...and midway switches styles completely again, a spinning tae kwon do roundhouses breaking out of the capoeria motion, followed by a a quick one two snap kick of savate strikes as the distance closes. She's moving in close, trying to push him off balance with speed rather than power.

Ares has posed:
    "Five horses, is that what that's called?" He asks her as he lightly fans himself with his t-shirt in that small moment of respite she's giving him. But he returns the compliment as he murmurs, "You are deceptively strong, Dinah. I may even have a bruise in the morning." His smile shifts to a faint grin...
    Then it's a smooth whorling lash of her long legs. He still has the reach on her, but her speed, the rapid snap of those kicks is enough to set him on his back foot, which is often... all that is needed. When she sees his weight shift she is able to dart in, the twist of Capoeira letting her build up a smooth burst of speed that lends the Tae Kwon Do rapid-fire strikes to uncurl with a short triple crack of movement.
    He grunts as he twists to the side, accepting one kick on his shoulder, the other on his side. But then the savate kicks hit clean into his shin and his calf. He can feel the catch of the knife's edge of her foot striking in and then scraping down, forcing him to favor that. But he takes the hit so they can close in that split second.
    For a moment they're standing so very close, she can feel the intense warmth of him as he moves in. It's only an instant as he turns his shoulders to try and crowd her and then opens with a pair of punches to her ribs, easily blocked... unless she was seeking to lure him into that movement and turn it on him.

Atlee (1034) has posed:
    It's a charge to close...the opposite of her earlier jousting behavior. And unlike before, it's not one style she sticks to. Instead, she smoothly transitions from Savate as she gets close, snapping down her arm in a whirling Wing Chun block to knock the fist past her instead of into her, using the motion of her body to direct it up...then to a more brutal krav maga body blow as she gets in close, trying to overwhelm by keeping him off balance with how to defend. She wouldn't normally be using this in most sparring bouts...but he did want her to not hold back.

    And something tells her he can take it, even if it does land.

Ares has posed:
    They come together for a moment and she's able to feel the whirl of her arm connect with his, the outside of her arm sliding along the inside of his to push and slide his own strike away, letting her seize the command of the inside angle as she then comes around and unloads on him with the Krav Maga strike that hits both his upper left chest and his lower right abdomen. In some that impact, that precise application of force with her focused chi would cause his rib to snap and his heart to suddenly skip several beats.
    It's enough to cause a first gleam of pain in his eyes, his teeth gritting as he accepts it and forces him to lose balance on his front foot, the leg buckling and turning him slightly to the side.
    Yet he tries to counter by turning and lashing out with an elbow to her abdomen, a grunt slipping from him as he executes the move. It's a wild chance, leaving his back open to her should she try and press, but it might as well buy him time to recover in that bare moment.

Atlee (1034) has posed:
    This is the trouble with getting in close...she's strong, but she doesn't have his upper body strength, and in close like this, he has an advantage as long as she can't keep him off balance.

    Her arm pulls in close as she takes the hit to her side, lessening it but still...that's going to be a nice bruise later at this rate. It throws off the attack, forcing her to break off as she rolls backwards, coming up in a ready crouch again, panting now as she rubs her side, breath hissing past her lips as she narrows her eyes, then starts to stalk to the left. "...you're like me...can't read your style easy. Variants on strikes I know, but not the same forms." she murmurs, her eyes on his again. AS she crosses in front of the window, the sky lights up behind her, leaving her shadowed for a moment.

Ares has posed:
    In that flash of light for him there is nothing else. In this moment with the roil of thunder so distant, and the patter of the water upon the windows, leaving faint rivulets trickling down and leaving long shadows over her lithe form... she is his world. There is nothing else than drawing in a breath and focusing on recovering his control, shunting that pain away.
    He shifts stance slowly, turning his other hip to face her even as one bare foot slides silently across the mats, held barely a scant distance off the mat as if ready to kick at a moment's notice. His left arm is held towards her, ramrod straight with the fist clenched. The other is held upwards, open with the palm facing the dark skylight above them. An old stance from the South, known for its balance and flexibility. And as he holds that stance, unwavering, she can see the faintest sheen of sweat upon his brow.
    Facing her has cost him. In pain, in the faint taste of blood upon his lips. And yet he would pay it all and more.

Atlee (1034) has posed:
    The lightning flickers and fades, another booming rumble of thunder rattling the glass of the window as she continues her slow stalk, chest rising and falling as her breathing smooths out again.

    She'll attack...she prefers it. She can defend, let someone wear themselves out against her before she strikes back, but she senses this won't work for him. He's too experienced to spend himself against her like that, to let her tire him out until he's vulnerable.

    AT the hard stance he adopts, the edge of her mouth quirks slightly, before she plants her right foot gracefuly forward, holding her arms out straight, palms flat as she rotates them smoothly into a new stance...strong but flexible, like bamboo, opposing muscles balancing each other as she slips back into Wing Chun. Better for close combat, or at least initiating it....not as brutal as Krav Maga, but a good way to get close.

    And she does, exploding into motion as she leaps at him, driving a series of jabs at his chest abdomen, then throat.

Ares has posed:
    When she begins to move, he moves forwards as well to meet her. The soft thip-thaps of their footsteps almost lost in the rumble of thunder around them. Then they meet, and she lashes out. When she brings her fist in to strike he smoothly brings his arm around in a clean arc to brush it to the side. He twists his hips like so and plants a foot between her legs as he presses forward with a flattened palm strike at her chest...
    That she is able to in turn twist to the side as she brings an elbow towards his abdomen, that shifts into a strike at his throat. He's able to tense the taut abdominal muscles, resisting the strike, but then she'll feel the curve of her hand connect with his throat. It's enough to break that rhythm shortly.
    She might hear the short harsh intake of breath, but when she turns to capitalize it she'll feel a strong hand clench around her wrist and then draw her towards him even as he drops to his knees, his free hand extending to the side to try and help her up and over him as he attempts to throw her over his shoulders and then towards the mats, a text-book Kata Guruma that has been banned in competitions for its propensity to leave a practicioner crippled if they fail to roll with it, yet he can tell she has trained long and hard.
    And should she land upon the mats he will twist to try and bring a fist down towards her throat from above as he shouts a sharp, "SEYAI!"

Atlee (1034) has posed:
    For a moment it's a flurry of blocks and shifting bodies, the soft thud of strikes against flesh, the arch of her body as she leans back to avoid the palm strike in a flexible twisting of her upper body. The faint intake of breath as his hand finds hers, gripping her wrist and pulling her close as he goes low into the throw.

    He did say they wouldn't hold back, didn't he?

    As she's pulled close, she shifts, actually pushing into the pull to get some momentum, but bringing her arm up to catch around his neck. As he goes over, her arm tightens, shifting to a Judo shime-wazu choke as they both slam to the mat, tightening her arm as she braces herself with a grunt.

Ares has posed:
    It's enough to foul the throw and causes them both to go over onto the mats heavily, his back against her chest, and her arm snaking around his throat. When she tightens it she draws him close even as he twists to the side, trying to spread his legs to gain leverage, one arm reaching up to grasp at her forearm to hold off the pressure she seeks to lock down and get into place.
    For a moment the entire world shrinks, for the outside is forgotten. The rain is lost, no pitter patter can be heard over the intense pounding of their hearts, the low grunts of each of them turning and straining against each other. She can feel the firm powerful pulse of blood through his neck even as she tries to cut it off from reaching his brain. They're both so terribly warm, the flesh along his neck is slick from exertion and she can feel his broad shoulders tense... and release as he tries to break free.
    He turns his head, trying to prevent her from getting her other arm in place behind his neck, his bare foot slipping along the mats seeking purchase. She'll feel the short rough impact of an elbow seeking her side, strong... but the angle is wrong to gain any power.

Atlee (1034) has posed:
    If she loses her grip now, it's obvious, in the strength of the muscles flexing under her as she twists, planting her feet as she tenaciously clings, continuing to provide pressure. There's no teasing comments now, no sass. Just a grim determination as the two struggle.

    The flex of his back causes her to lean in closer, body pressing back immediately as she tries to keep her position, her breath blowing against his hair as she pants quietly from the exertion, then lets out a woof as the elbow connects, awkward as it is, her muscular abdomen blunting the hit, not quite high enough to knock the wind out of her.

    She rolls, forcing her arm down as she uses her body weight to push into the full chokehold, her more petite body shifting to keep her leverage against his greater mass.

Ares has posed:
    One hand drops to reach for one of her supporting legs, trying to grab and turn sharply to try and force her back down and make her lose her grip. But then she rolls smoothly and is able to bring the arm against the back of his head. He scowls and she can feel the harsh chuff of his breath against her arm even as she tightens down and stops him from drawing breath in.
    He plants his feet and then /pushes/ back against her, pressing her flat upon the mats as his back arches and he presses his shoulder blades into her shoulders even as he lifts back with his head trying to pin her. It's risky, and she'll either have to give way or lock her legs around his waist to prevent him from breaking the hold.
    But then should she be able to maintain, to cling tenaciously it only takes a handful of seconds for a carotid choke to begin to rob one of consciousness. He'll start to feel the darkness creep in, to lose his sense of awareness until the only sound he hears is that of her breath harsh against the curve of his ear.
    It's only if she can maintain that time that there at the last moment... he'll tap against her thigh, three quick slaps.

Atlee (1034) has posed:
    The slam against the mat draws another muffled grunt from Dinah as she is crushed back against the mat, her breathing getting more labored from the pressure. She's familiar with it though, her legs coming up to grip around his waist to hold her position, squeezing powerfully to try and force what air he has out.

    They're both matches for stubborness, neither willing to give...but this time, she's lucky enough to have the right position, where he can't bring his full strength to bear on her. If he was standing, he likely could dislodge her, slamming her to the mat with more force to knock the wind out of her, forcing her to release.

    But this time...it's John who taps out.

    There's a moment where she has to realize what she's feeling, then she relaxes, releasing to let him breath again, then saying in a slight wheeze. "Off..." She gives him a push from underneath him, as his weight isn't helping her breath any better.

    Though once he's off she doesn't seem inclined to immediately get to her feet either, catching her breath. "Stubbonrn...bastard..." she manages, before she pushes herself up to a sitting position. Oh yes, she's going to have some interesting bruises tomorrow.

Ares has posed:
    Leaning to the side he's still recovering his breath, one leg drawn up and his hand planted next to hers, leaving them almost shoulder to shoulder as they get their breath back. He heaves a small laugh, and for once it's a freely given thing, given life by the moment and the vibrancy of life even as there is that short flicker and flash of lightning outside.
    It's when the thunder rolls that he looks sidelong at her, their eyes meeting. "Tenacious harpy of a woman." But as he says that the words are given almost with a gentle affection even as a small beadlet of sweat trickles down the side of his cheek, clinging tentatively to his flushed skin, then tracing its way down along the curve of his neck to disappear beneath that dark t-shirt he wears, a t-shirt that is no clinging to the subtle lines of his body even as he shakes his head slightly.
    "You are..." He seems about to say something, but then he finds her eyes again and for a moment his eyes distance, as if seeing her anew or for the first time. He lifts a hand to bring a fingertip gently to the curve of her cheek, just a small touch as he brushes an errant lock of her hair from the side of her neck... just back over the supple line of her ear.
    "Amazing."

Atlee (1034) has posed:
    Dinah lets out an indelicate snort at the harpy comment, taking a deeper breath to steady her breathing, beads of sweat running down her cheek, strands of gold sticking to her skin, something amusing her about being compared to a winged creature. She leans back on her hands for a moment, closing her eyes.

    When she feels the touch, her eyes snap open, blinking for a moment as she meets his eyes, stilling as the hair is brushed back over her ear. She doesn't pull away at the touch immediately, but there's a faint flush to her cheeks perhaps not entirely from exertion.

    The moment passes however as she shifts, getting her feet under her to push up to her feet. "Flatterer..." she teases, without heat, seeming to need to say something to break the awkwardness of the moment, then offers a hand up. "Good spar..."

Ares has posed:
    She'll feel his strong hand inside hers as he smiles upwards, and then when she lifts to help him up to his feet he'll say with that faint smile heard in each of the words, "It was," He gives a small grunt as he climbs up, wincing slightly at the bruise that's assuredly going to be there in the morning on his side.
    But then they're standing close for that brief moment, his hand in hers and the warmth of the moment and the night terribly palpable between them. There's another small flash of lightning, and perhaps on some level each of them expects to hear the thunder rumble...
    But it doesn't come. Instead he'll meet her eyes if she'll look up at him, and then he'll say quietly. "Perhaps it's moved on." His dark brown eyes slip towards those obscured windows, even as on some level he holds himself back. But then he looks back to her, his lips parting slightly as he takes in a breath as if about to say something.

Atlee (1034) has posed:
    There's definitely a grunt there, and likely an extra hand added to get a good grip as she digs in her heels. And then they're standing close again. Very close.

    She isn't one to be easily flustered, but her heart is thumping more than expected, and she's not entirely sure it's all because of the bout. It's not the first time she's had that...moment...with an opponent after a close spar.

    She doesn't look away, meeting his eyes, then her lips quirking, partly in amusement over the situation. Partly because it's just who she is. "Seems like." she responds, her husky voice quiet, before she gently lets go of his hand.

    Bad Dinah. You just met him. You barely KNOW him. He is definitely not....

    She lets go of his hand, stepping back as she breaks the moment, not sure what to make of whatever is hanging between them at the moment. "It was...fun." she says. "But...I should get going. Before the rain comes back...."

    Smoooth Dinah. Smooth.    

Ares has posed:
    "If you like," Of course that probably wasn't what he was intending to say. Instead he looks at her with a small curl of the lip at the corner of his mouth, his hands resting at his hips now. "I was going to take a shower, if you like I can walk you back to your vehicle." But his smile grows a touch since really, not like if she gets mugged she'll be in any real danger.
    But then he steps back to give her her space a little more. "Or you could just head off. If you need to go, I wouldn't want to keep you." Oh he probably recognizes the trepidation, and on some level he most likely wants to step forwards and allay her worries. But then he also knows... she's probably right to have them. For there definitely was a chemistry to the moment, to when their eyes met... but no. Best to give her the outs should she need them.
    He turns away and begins to gather his socks, leaning over to grab them. "As you would."

Atlee (1034) has posed:
    Dinah hesistates, then nods. "Thanks, but I should be fine..." She heads of the mat, padding over to where she left her boots and socks to pull them on, then scoops up her bag, sliding it over her shoulder. "It's not often I get a good match like that." she adds after a moment, glancing back his way with a smile. "Thanks for inviting me. I'll have to come back and give you a rematch sometime soon."

    She backs towards the door. "See you later John, have a good night."

    And then she slips out the door. She'll need to to...think about this, she decides, walking back to her bike. Especially if they're going ot be working together....