12100/(Night) Birds of a Feather II

(Night) Birds of a Feather II
Date of Scene:	31 August 2020
Location:	Central Heights, Old Gotham
Synopsis:	Sparrowhawk continues to develop her techniques and Nightwing edges closer towards actual combat training with her.
Cast of Characters:	Nightwing, Sparrowhawk

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Nightwing has posed:
Nightwing brought Sparrowhawk to the same location via a different, more swingline intensive path. A couple of really long swings and a even a couple that were fairly precise. To call it an obstacle course would be too generous. It is simply more intensive and pushes her strength, dexterity, concentration and general conditioning to a higher extent than Nightwing did two weeks ago.

The final swing though, he takes faster than he has. The reason is obvious; he performs a triple somersault and lands it with bent knees before whipping about to see her swing and dismount. He's worn her out a little bit, and now Nightwing is testing her. His voice is quiet over the coms. "Sorry to interrupt you, Oracle, but keep your peepers peeled on our location. I want to be able to concentrate on flying for a bit. I promise to make it up to you later." It is barbara's birthday. Might be best not to imagine what he means to do with, for, or to Barbara for that particular milestone.

Oracle and Nightwing are this odd juxtaposition of immaculately professional behavior broken up by almost juvenile bickering and then almost steamy tones that are unique to them. If Oracle has a retort, it is on their private channel. His grin suggests that she said something.

Sparrowhawk has posed:
    Sparrowhawk is aware of her limits -- and how much catching up she has to do to be at the level the others are. She's also aware that she may never get there, that her powers will just have to make up for what finesse and gymnastic ability she lacks.

    She has tried her best in their aerial follow-the-leader. Her shoulder aches slightly, but she was able to slip through most of the way. When she releases, her wrist is kept open -- the tip with the wrist support had helped, immensely, and when she releases it's much, much better than the last time.

    She tucks herself neatly, tumbling through the air, and when she lands it's in a three-point landing, slightly off-center, but ready to spring up. She's breathing a little heavily -- the suit hides it. Mostly.

Nightwing has posed:
Nightwing's smile goes from a particular shape of his mouth that seems to be reserved for Oracle to another one; one that has been flashed her way before. It is a pleased smile. If there is any ribbing incoming, it is gentle and good-natured. 'That three-point landing looks cool, but it is rough on the knees and you are going to get gravel stuck in your palm. Careful with that." The tone is warm and that of a teacher with a student that they approve of.

"You've kept up. Swinglines are your best friend. They are an emergency exit. They are a way to cut corners and to get ahead of other people. You can set up ambushes. You can chase folks down. If you get good at it, you can do both of things to the same person. A badguy who escapes from you only to land in a second trap is very liable to just give up. You are getting a lot better. Your wrist action is greatly improved. You've done great so far tonight."

The quiz comes immediately after the compliment. "What do we need to do now that we have done all that swinging?"

Sparrowhawk has posed:
    "Still not used to having the same gloves." Sparrowhawk replies as she stands up, and gives a soft huff outwards, looking to Nightwing as he gives approval. She gives a roll of her shoulder, trying to conciously stop her powers from focusing on the muscle.

    "Thank you. Pretty fortunate to have a good teacher," the teen gives a grin back to Nightwing as she takes stock in their surroundings.

    "... either make sure your environment is secured or reload in case you need a quick escape..."

Nightwing has posed:
Nightwing's smile grows at that answer. "Well, we rarely operate in a secure space. I get what you mean, though. You are exactly right. Am I safe here? That is the first question." Nightwing pops his grapnel launcher and stows the spent after reloading a new gas cartridge. The launcher goes to his belt.
    He waits until she starts on her own before the kick comes. It is a slow one, by his standards, and he telegraphs it. The spin is a rotation of the hips and the kick is a soft push off the gravel rooftop, scattering only a couple of pieces. Still, it is telegraphed to give her a chance.
It's a cheap thing to do, but it is essential. Nightwing hasn't really gone after her hand to hand skills yet. He's let the others focus on them. Still, every night is a new challenge.
Though she might not know it, he isn't sure he wants to test her on this yet. That is why the trained vigilante telegraphed the blow. Still, he needs a bead on the young lady. She can fly like a bird on a swingline, but if she cannot fight it will be a short career, and she might get Tim hurt or dead at the same time.

Sparrowhawk has posed:
    "Fair enough." Sparrowhawk replies to Nightwing, and she pops out the cartrage to replace hers -- and she sees the kick coming.

    Aikido is her friend here, the scrabble of the gravel as her eyes turn to Nightwing, and the way that his hips swing.

    She breathes out as she braces herself for the blow, stretching her fingers a moment, and she embraces her training. She brings her arm down, her elbow bending as she steps into Nightwing's kick, stepping to place her ankle behind his to try and knock the older, taller and more experienced vigilante to his back, trying to keep her arm around his leg to twist his knee out of muscle memory.

Nightwing has posed:
It's a good move. She absorbs and deflects the power of the kick with her arm. Nightwing actually laughs as she entangles his plant foot. As she goes to push him to the ground though, he pulls some sort of mixture of a gymnastic training mixed into his jiu jitsu to bend over backwards, sweep his previously planted foot upward into a kick as he somersaults backwards away from her.
The move turns into a backwards roll and the man whips out a wingding with one hand as he comes to a stop. The wingding goes flashing and flitting out. He misses, no doubt because he means to, sticking it in the rooftop with enough force the razor-edged throwing iron vibrates in place about two feet from the woman.

"Excellent."

Sparrowhawk has posed:
    She's not sure if the laughing is Good or if Nightwing is being a... well.

    She releases the kicking leg, drawing herself back as he somersaults backwards, and she draws to the side. Like Red Robin, she's adopted an expanding pole, and she etends the staff and assumes a defensive position as the wingding flicks.

    The metal shape vibrates, her cowl picking up on the dangerous piece of weaponry, and she knows that could have been her face -- if Nightwing was an attacker.

    Luckily, the black-and-blue clad gymnast seems pleased with her, and she keeps her guard up in case he comes at her again, her eyes narrowed behind the white lenses.

Nightwing has posed:
The laughter fades away. "You would have had almost anyone other than one of us." Nightwing compliments her. "Most people do not know how to fight. They think they do." He reaches to his back to pull his escrima sticks into his hands and then slides his feet into an offset, crooked position, supplying her with a really poor angle of attack. He doesn't press the attack, instead starting to shift his form to another position to see if her guard shifts. "The real question is, in the real world, would you even still be here if someone did that to you or would you have gotten the hell out of dodge? Walk me through what you are thinking." HIs tone is quiet, cool, calm, collected, and calculating. He is talking to her the way he wants her to think.

Sparrowhawk has posed:
    "Oh, I know. I got made fun of for Aikido. My sensei though? She taught police forces and private security in Japan before she came here." she states, and she spins her staff a moment as she adjusts her stance, watching Nightwing with their impromptu spar. "You practically shouted out that you were kicking. You didn't put all your strength behind it. If you did? That would have probably broken my /arm/." she replies, talking herself through. "Best way to avoid a blow is to not be there, second best way is to re-direct. Use their own inertia against them, twist their faces into the dirt and into submission -- but that doesn't work with me. You get too close, you're in my aura. Redirect. Strike. Fade." she replies, and she gives her staff a spin, shifting her weight as she circles.

    "Also most no one's gonna be slinging shuriken at me."

Nightwing has posed:
"Flawless." Nightwing compliments her. "Redirect. Strike. Fade. Why didn't you execute?" Compliment followed by critique. "Your thinking is above reproach. Why didn't you fade when it was obvious the foe was beyond your capabilities?" His stance continues to shift, now offering her a better angle of attack from her position as if to taunt or bait her into another strike.

"You are right about the throwing irons. I think, though, that bullets are more likely." Nightwing doesn't talk smack, he is merely being a realist. His chin moves in a slight nod to her, as if to encourage her to continue to speak and walk him through her reasoning.

Sparrowhawk has posed:
    "If you had a gun, probably wouldn't kick first." Phoebe replies, "Luckily, if I do get shot I can retreat and heal. If someone else does? Retreat and heal. Pretty sure that's why Red Robin doesn't want me taking on anyone bigger than a street thug." she stretches her fingers again. "... my powers being good could mean life or death." she spins her staff, as she tilts her head at Nightwing. "... not just for me, either."

Nightwing has posed:
    "Good." The batons are spun a couple of times and then stowed on the vigilante's back. he makes a simple gesture with his left hand. "Put your broom handle away." She can almost hear the older vigilante wink. Nightwing moves over to pick up his throwing iron, running his gloved thumb over the edge of the blade before flicking it closed. "You are thinking through scenarios. You are are making plans. You are using your head. I'm content with your continued efforts and improvement."

Nightwing tilts his chin at her and asks, "Can you lead me back to where we parked?" From one test to the next, it never lets up.

Sparrowhawk has posed:
    "Red Robin would feel a little offended, I should think." Sparrowhawk replies, giving her broomhandle -- err, shrinking staff -- a click, and closing it. She does take a deep breath then, securing the staff to her pack.

    "Thank you." she states with the utmost ernesty in her voice. "I just hope it's enough."

    At that, she taps the side of her cowl a moment. "Unless you moved it, have it saved to GPS."

Nightwing has posed:
"Cheater." Nightwing scoffs. "Lead on." HIs left hand gestures for her to swing out first.

Sparrowhawk has posed:
    "Still learning my way around the rooftops." Sparrowhawk replies to Nightwing's scoff, and she gives a grin over to Nightwing with the same cheek that someone might get from a younger sibling, and then she makes her way to the rooftop, fires off a line, and takes off, swinging along the side-route, back towards their ride.