raspberryturk | The Preserve, Late Wednesday Morning

Dammit, he was fast. No fair. She was fast enough that she could almost keep up to Tidus when he had Haste on, and she could play to that, but not if he was going to keep up like this.

She ducked the first punch and was aiming a counter when his kick nailed her right in the knee, ow freaking ow, and she stumbled back hard enough that she almost didn't see the second punch coming. She half-blocked with her forearm but still took the brunt of it.

Ow and hey look, that left his right side way open. Shame she couldn't toss a punch there, as she wasn't a lefty. She could, however, pull back, feint a low punch from her right, and turn her hip slightly -- Deadpool was gonna be so proud -- for one of those outside round sort of kicks, the length of her foot headed right for that open spot on his ribs.

That 'hurnff' sound that he made as he was knocked to the side a bit was simply him getting a feel for the terrain and had nothing at all to do with the sudden need to exhale as a result of a turning kick to the ribs. Really. And ignore the fact that his arms were hanging pretty haphazardly in the air as he planted his feet on the ground before launching his left foot forward in an attempt to kick her in the teeth. Or the chest. Or maybe one of her arms.

Reno wasn't ever really picky as to where his blows landed, so long as they actually did.

Take that. Rikku fell back into her crouch - low meant hard to hit, which was good when you weren't, you know, some big burly guy.

How she missed his foot headed right for her face she wasn't sure, until her head snapped back and ew, blood gushing out of her nose. Rikku hopped out of the stumble, wiping at her face with her arm (see, times like this, she totally needed sleeves) and got low again. Guarded stance, Rikku. Hold it. Then you can flash a kick up to his midsection.

Edited 2008-01-09 09:58 (UTC)

Sooner or later, Reno was going to realize that his habit of falling into a smug slouch meant that he was wide open.

Apparently not sooner, though he did manage to throw his shoulder back and mostly twist his way out of a decent kick to the guts. She was good, wasn't she? Sent him staggering back a couple of steps, cartwheeling his arms for balance before he came to two realizations.

First, that she was more capable of fighting than the average AVALANCHE grunt, so he was going to have to start taking this fight a little more seriously.

And second, that her pretty little face was looking a little red.

"I feel kinda special," he said, his words oozing cocky confidence, "first decent amount of blood isn't drippin' out of me, yo."

He turned so that his right side was facing her, leaving a little less of him open than before, and giving him plenty of opportunity to strike with his left hand if she came close. And wow, he hoped she was going to decide to come close.

He wanted to stand and talk? She could totally use that time to catch her breath. Still watching to see if this was a psych-out move, she reached behind her to tear off one of those long blue streamers from her shirt, and messily wiped her face with it before tossing it to the ground.

... Ew.

"Decent amount, maybe, but you left some on that tree," she observed, pulling her hands up again. "And first's blood's not the same --"

Right there, mid-sentence, was a good time to hop forward. Bring both arms to her right, see if she could get his right arm out of the way with an upward diagonal slash of her left elbow. She usually did this when facing someone, but the right cross that followed it up might do nicely aimed straight at his mouth.

"-- As victory," she panted.

And here she came! He was so much better at keeping out of the way of fists when he wasn't flying at them in the first place, so he did a excellent job of deflecting that elbow of hers. But she was quick, too- he'd have to keep an eye out for that. He doubted she was as fast as the fastest Turk, but she was easily more of a challenge than most of the opponents he'd had the pleasure of facing down one-on-one.

Her speed, after all, was what allowed her to get a pretty clean shot at his mouth, a shot which would have knocked a few teeth clean from his head if he hadn't clenched his jaw and turned his head when he had realized that it was coming. Being cocky was going to be slightly more challenging around a split lip, but he was Reno of the Turks. He'd manage.

"I'd hardly call a bleeding lip a victory," he mused as he spat out a gob of blood and saliva before spinning on his heel and trying to kick her legs out from underneath her before she could pull herself back into that cute little crouch of hers.

Dammit, and there she went, sprawling and twisting a little so she wouldn't land with too much of an ooof.

... Ooof.

She punted the bottom of her foot out, hard, for the side of the knee he was still standing on.

"Never said I did," she said, rolling back a little so she could spring up onto her feet.

With one leg still in the air and her foot making that solid crack sound against his knee, Reno probably shouldn't have been as surprised as he was when he found his leg flying out from underneath him, and really should have done a better job at landing properly.

Sadly, neither was the case, and the Turk found himself greeting the ground with a good, solid thump, before rolling over and hauling himself back to his feet.

Which would have worked better if his knee had been meant to bend that way in the first place. He stooped a little as his leg threatened to give out underneath him all on its own, shifting his weight to the one that hadn't just been cracked from the side. Damn, standing hurt.

And there she was, rolled away, and out of the range of his fists.

"You got a good foot on you, anyhow."

Edited 2008-01-09 11:05 (UTC)

Back to her crouch, and ... oooh. Okay. Wincing a little, because man, that crack didn't sound good.

"Thanks," she said, staying low. Not moving. Waiting to see if he'd make the next move. "... Your knee okay?"

"Never better, yo."

Just because he was doing less slouching and more lopsided leaning than usual? Really. Whatever gave her the notion that his knee wasn't up to par?

He was actually torn for a moment between attempting to put his weight on it, or continuing to stand back until she made a move. Because he wasn't going to be the one to step down, here. Long-cultivated stubbornness at its finest.

It hurt, but he'd had worse. A friendly sparring match wasn't any reason to get himself more messed up. He was a Turk. Only idiots got themselves messed up beyond repair if they didn't have to. What a stupid move, leaving himself open like that! ... Not that he ever really bothered to get into a guarded stance in the first place.

"You wanna come over here so I can punch you some more?" His tone wasn't entirely joking.

"No, I'm fine right here," she grinned. "Thought maybe I'd let you come to me and all. Unless you're not up to it."

If he was okay enough to be a stubborn bastard, then he was okay enough to taunt. Uh. She hoped so, anyway.

"Kinda like it over here," he blotted his lip against his sleeve and feigned total nonchalance as he gave a shrug of his shoulders. "Nice view... Of the trees, yoto."

His next move, pulling himself up so that he was standing normally again, wasn't the nicest feeling he'd ever had, but at least he'd managed to gather his dignity again.

"Plus then you don't have to walk on that knee," she said sweetly.

Which was pretty cruel, all things considered, but hey, he'd started the smack-talk. He could deal.

... Nonchalance was stupid anyhow.

Not quite as stupid as his next move, which consisted of about one and a half solid, angry steps, which quickly buckled and gave way into a stumble, a few muttered swear words, and then a grumpy shuffle.

"Yeah," he spat again, "then I don't have to walk on that knee, yo."

Rikku sighed. And then fished in her leg-pouch, coming up with a small vial and tossing it to him.

"Wanna call this a day before one of us cracks the other's skull? I can't go to Cheer with a concussion."

Reno caught the vial and eyed it for a moment, not opening it up to down it just yet. Instead, his gaze flicked back to Rikku.

"If I'm remembering right, I think you started this by cracking my skull, yo." Maybe that was the slightest hint of a smile on his lips. "Even so, wouldn't want to return the favor and risk a single boom-rah-rah. Squad's countin' on you and all."

"That was just me saying hello," she said brightly. "If it makes you feel any better, I think my nose is busted."

Now was probably not a good time to mention that she couldn't remember if they were starting practices this week or next, anyway.

"Makes me feel much better," Reno decided. Didn't even take him a moment to think that one over.

He opened the vial, held it up and tilted it a little, sort of a toast to a morning well wasted.

"Bottoms up, yo."

"Cheers," she said, digging one out for herself. No point wasting the clinic's time on sparring mishaps, right? And she had a good stash going again, thanks to the Omega Ruins.

"How come you're wearing a suit, anyway?"

Well, there was a topic of conversation that he hadn't quite expected while he was trying to down a potion.

"Uniform." He gave a shrug of his shoulders and left it at that.

"But we came out here to spar." Rikku shrugged. "Would've thought you'd want something less constrictive."

"Didn't bother with the tie," he said, as though that was somehow different from the norm. "See, less constrictive already."

"There's supposed to be a tie?" Rikku blinked. "What's the uniform for, anyway?"

Well, here was a topic of conversation that he couldn't exactly afford to delve into too deeply.

So, instead, he shrugged his shoulders dismissively, bending at the knees a few times to make sure everything was in proper working order again.

"The job."

"You're here for work?" Rikku tilted her head at him. "Aren't you off-duty right now, anyway?"

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