[Open] En Garde!

[winged_knight]

WHO: Wing and anyone
WHERE: One of the larger lower platforms in Vector's Quadrant.
WHEN: Now (Wing personally practices twice a week, anyone may join/visit.)
WHAT: Melee sparring sessions, hand-to-hand and weapons combat. Anyone may watch, participate, receive or offer instruction. Technique discussion welcome as well.
WARNINGS: None yet.

Just enough light from Prima's quadrant touches the network of crystal cables crisscrossing Vector's domain that they turn slightly golden. One wide hanging bridge connects the main approach to one of many large platforms, Vector's tower standing vigil farther behind it. The platform has little in the way of walls, barriers or guard rails, but it is quite large with ample room for several groups to occupy should they choose to. There's a section near the middle, bare except for a large ring on the ground formed from bits of rope and cable knotted together. There's what appears to be a makeshift sparring dummy constructed of various bits of junk nearby.

The knight begins with a warm-up kata, slow and measured with empty and open hands, his movements pushing and pulling with a grace something his size and made of metal would not be expected to have. The warm up eventually transitions into faster flowing movements, punctuated by stronger, tighter fisted and more aggressive movements. Finally it escalates to drawn weapons, their plasma charge singing in the air as the blades move around the jet's body in a combative type of dance.

In several centuries of study and practice, Wing has mastered several forms of martial combat. Offensive and defensive stances, evades, holds, throws, parries, feints, disengages, missile deflects, but most importantly, incapacitates. Using knowledge precisely and intentionally applied to debilitate but not kill one's opponent was a key element to upholding the Circle of Light's philosophy.

All this, and yet Wing has had opportunity to apply but a small portion of it in true combat.

It's time now to expand that into practical application and test it in a much more informal setting. Wing seeks to expand the breadth of his experience while offering a vast knowledge base teachable to others.

Comments

[patokichi]

He actually hadn't come here with purpose. Deckerd just couldn't sit still after everything that had happened, and his mind was busy with worry. Far too tense to sit and fret without at least trying to make use of himself. He'd managed to find a half-can of gas in the junkyard so at least he wasn't in any danger of starving.

"Patrol" as he had assured himself, had turned much more into aimless wandering and blaming himself for Gunmax and Drifts little hospital visits.

But here is is, finding himself sitting at the edge of a small platform, watching Wing.

What is he doing?

Some kind of martial arts? Not like Power Joe, however. Something he might associate more closely to Shadowmaru, but not quite accurate either.

Definitely not his style of fighting. Deckerd is more conventional- uses guns, mostly. Hand-to-hand is secondary. But he can't help but be a little envious of how peaceful it looks. Taking a few steps out of the archway and to the edge of the circle to get a better look. He says nothing for now, just watches.

[winged_knight]

Wing notes the presence of the other in between movements. Awareness of his surroundings was just as important as the exercises themselves, though some days he allowed himself to get lost in the tranquility of the flow of forms regardless. As his routine approaches its finish, he adjusts a few of the steps to carry him closer to his visitor. The knight ends neatly a few paces from the circle's edge, carefully stowing his plasma blades.

"Deckerd!" Wing nods a friendly greeting, smiling as he moves to join the Brave's leader outside edge of the circle. "It's good to see you. You've recovered from the trials of the invasion I hope? What brings you out here?"

[patokichi]

The Brave Detective uncrosses his arms and lets his face open into a smile. He's still banged up, filthy, missing the edge of one of his lapels, and the red glass on his chest is cracked and chipped, but he somehow manages to still look cheerful.

He refused to have his cosmetic damage fixed in lieu of rescources for the other, far more critical injuries of others.

"You too, Wing," He says, resting a hand on one of the partitions for Wing's small ring, "I was just on patrol. Trying to stay active..."

Trying to get his mind off of Gunmax and Drift. Still his fault.

"That... dance you were doing," A smooth change of subject, "What is it called? It's very ah."

He pauses, hand moving to his chin as he searches for the right words.

"Pretty."

[winged_knight]

It’s refreshing to see Deckerd’s cheerful air. The Brave Police force gave them all a bit of scare at the end of the invasion, so seeing a less grave demeanor was heartening.

"It must be an interesting challenge to adjust to this new place. We don't realize how much we rely on routine until it's been disrupted." He has a quiet, knowing expression. "Still, order needs to be kept even here."

Wing takes note of the damage still evident on Deckerd’s frame. Given what little he know of the other mech, he’d guess that the detective was putting others before himself again. "Haven’t seen to your maintenance yet." His tone isn’t accusatory, but it’s obvious he wants to be certain Deckerd is taking care of himself. “How are you all fairing?”

Wing glances back into the ring as if remembering the movements he performed but a moment ago. "It’s a mixture of a few different styles, designed to keep skills from getting stagnant. Most of the names have long been lost to all others save my order, but most Cybertronians would see it and call it Metallikato."

[patokichi]

Deckerd only nods, agreeing quietly until it's pointed out that he really hasn't seen to any sort of maintenance, even when Ratchet offered it. He saw it as a waste of resources and time. It takes him off his guard a little.

"Well," He shifts his weight awkwardly, "I was watching over Gunmax and Drift in the medbay for a while. I've been worried about them. And between that, patrolling for any of the straggling monsters, as well as looking for more fuel..."

He shrugs.

"It's not important. Just cosmetic," Cosmetic is right. He's utterly filthy. His usual white plating has a nice brown tint to it, "Everyone else is varying. McCrane seems to be dealing well at least. He's always been of a good, sound mind. Gunmax is in good spirits, but a little bored being cooped up. We're all surviving."

Certainly not thriving, though. It's been harder for them than many of the Cybertronians even.

Matallikato?

"You Cybertronians have such a rich culture. I must admit, I've been intensely fascinated by it. I only wish I had some time to sit down and really learn more."

[winged_knight]

Wing smiles, his suspicions confirmed. This mech obviously had a good heart and deserved someone watching out for his well being the same way he did for others.

"Thank you," the knight says, "For watching over Gunmax and Drift. I was quite concerned as well but...I got the feeling my presence might be troubling Drift so I did not linger as long as I would have liked." He smiles. "It's good to know there was someone else there to do it."

He shrugs with a rueful smile.

"But I digress!" He laughs gently. "Cosmetic indeed. But sometimes washing away the grime of battle helps sweep away the weight of the things we must do in it. At the very least, it can help make us feel better and more capable of handling the larger challenges."

Wing tilts his head and regards the detective thoughtfully. "Have you visited the washracks at Prima's since you got here?" It occurred to him that maybe the Braves needed a cultural primer there too.

A nod. "You persist, that is good. And you have friends and allies to help improve that condition. Soon, I'm sure." Wing reaches out to give Deckerd's arm a companionable squeeze. It's a thing he does, social touch, perhaps a little more than most Cybertronians here.

"Well thank you. Our race is quite old, which may have something to do with that. A single lifespan can span several million years. We do not reproduce very often however, so there is balance."

[patokichi]

Deckerd, for what it's worth, does not pull away from the touch. It's almost endearing in a way, how friendly Wing is. He doesn't mind it. It's comforting in a way, a surrogate for the lack of a child at his ankle or on his shoulder.

"It was my pleasure to look after them," He says, some of the weight of responsibility lingering there.

"Ah- no. I haven't, actually. Yuuta used to wash me every Sunday but..." He makes a vague gesture implying that's obviously not possible anymore. He's also a little helpless when it comes to that. Sure, he could suss out washing himself, but it has more to do with the emotional bond they shared and the routine and...

Well. Deckerd lowers his head.

"Hmm. Is it troubling, living so long?"

[dontasktrix]

Slipstream had been spending megacycles in Vector Prime's domain, since the horror-show monster invasion. Sure the drive-in theater in Detroit had been abandoned, but she had piggybacked media feeds from neighboring buildings; it was work even a moderately skilled human could manage. To her, the invasion had sure seemed like something out of an Earth movie.

However, her continued presence had nothing to do with having helped defend Vector's temple. She hadn't even spoken to the Prime or found much in common with the residents, except those that flew.

It was the network of connected platforms set in the canyon that attracted her: an aerial obstacle course on three axes, through canyon-focused winds and so many eddies about the structures and natural outcroppings. It was challenging to fly, more like the flying within Detroit than the sortie against the Omega Sentinel over open country. And, for now, flying the course gave her a sense of accomplishment little else here did.

It was fun.

Fun, however, was not more important that gathering intel or allies on weirdo-Cybertron. Playing nice with others had advantages. Slipstream knew how it had felt to fly with her brothers and the potential for greatness there, with proper leadership. Playing nice with Megatron had kept her from getting shot on sight, like Starscream, and found her added combat experience. Cooperation worked for Autobots. Seeing bots on a platform and Wing doing some kind of martial arts seemed an excellent opportunity for nice playing.

Slipstream tried to see if she could sneak up on him. She reversed, made a pass just skimming the forcefields below the platform, transformed, caught the edge of the platform, then pulled herself up.

[winged_knight]

Wing was fairly deeply involved in his current task, an exposition of blocks woven with pushes and redirects, all designed to break his invisible opponent's balance. His weapons currently stowed, he worked with the simpler blade of the open hand, his motions cutting through the air with similar ease.

White audial flares twitch as he noted the sound of a jet engine passing through the area, cocking his head as he tries to trace it, but loosing track of it as it echoes through the gorge. With a twitch of his head he shakes off the distraction and returns to the task at hand.

How any giant robots sneak is beyond me!

[dontasktrix]

Slipstream stood. The crystalline structures that refracted and reflected light down into the gorge meant shadows were more complex than when standing in open terrain under bright starlight. Hers were multiple and faint.

She took a step forward. Slipstream was no Cyber-ninja. Stealth, for her, often meant having a low radar profile or deco that inhibited visual detection. Cool tones were fair camouflage in Earth atmosphere or shadows of an urban landscape, but not here. Yet, she tried to sneak up. She worried that the click-clack of her heels sounded above her usual operating noise.

If Wing could miss that, she didn't suspect he could smell her. Personally, Slipstream thought she smelled funny, now she was drinking the energon provided by the acolytes, rather than Earth fuels.

Bots could often sense energy signatures. A signal dampener would have been useful, but she wasn't sure that would dampen the AllSpark energy. On Earth, they had only hidden Megatron's Decepticons.

Slipstream shifted her weight to take another step.

It's a mystery of the universe!

[winged_knight]

White audials twitch again because this time he's heard it. The gentle click of metal on the platform's surface. He slows his movements, keying his audio receptors to his rear.

Wing's really only made one enemy here so far, the purple Starscream, and Wing is pretty certain that the seeker would neither land nor bother trying to sneak up on him. Not if he wanted to do any serious damage at any rate.

This could be a fun exercise. More interesting that what he'd been doing before anyway. He wound down to his cooldown forms which kept him relatively stationary, waiting for his visitor to make another move.

later session let me know if this needs to be changed.

[sword_redemption]

Ratchet's finally let Drift leave his scowly care, probably because he'd reached the limit of his patience. And he didn't really feel like going back to Liege's, at least not yet. He should at least try to thank Vector for what he'd done.

At first, the Acolyte who had greeted him in the vestibule of Vector's palace had tried to take him to a room. He didn't want a room. He wanted to see Wing.

It figured Wing would practice in such an open area. It was exactly like him, that confidence just on the shiny side of ego.

Well, he'd earned it.

There was only one bridge out there, to the platform, so watching unobserved, which was what Drift really wanted to do, was out of the question. If Wing manages not to notice his approach, he certainly will when his pretty dancing blade cracks down across one of Drift's short blades.

Later session works for me! :D

[winged_knight]

There are times when Wing liked to loose himself in this. The purity of purpose, a simple evolution of one form to another, not harnessed but guided by his hands, his body, as he moved through the stances of this blade dance. His optics were dimmed in concentration, focused on the flow of his EM field as he paced out the motions, letting it ebb and rise with the movements of his limbs.

It's only because of this--and the intrusion of something foreign, yet familiar?--that he had any warning of the other mech suddenly in his space. Wing started a bit as the weapons connected and his awareness snapped back abruptly. He felt the pulse through the plasma blade at the joining with its metal cousin, the stray bits of cyan energy that flicked over it a match to the optics of its wielder.

"Drift." Wing said with more than the touch of a smile. "I wondered when you'd come."

[sword_redemption]

That kind of inward focus was pretty, but it could get you killed. Then again, Drift had never been formally trained: he'd never held a sword until that....that day. What he knew weren't pretty katas, but more like reflex, honed by centuries of fighting.

It wasn't to say his was more effective: Wing's skill at hand-to-hand proved that much.

A slow smile, as Wing looked up.

"Out here playing with yourself?" He couldn't help himself. Sorry.

[winged_knight]

All of Wing's techniques held more than one purpose, honing not just physical skill but mental, spiritual and the connection between them. Some reinforced the basics while others refined the advanced techniques. Still others were not meant to be used in combat at all, but were exercises to maintain general health and well being. A select few were traditional displays, solely meant to be an expression of the Circle of Light’s philosophies expressed through bodies in motion.

All of them brought some level of enjoyment to the knight.

A loud chuff of laughter springs freely from the white jet, followed by a smile and glint in his amber optics. "I've had to make-do on my own, yes." A gentle turn of his wrist and the plasma blade slowly licks its way down the length Drift's blade. "Care to change that?"

[sword_redemption]

Unlike Wing, not all of Drift's associations with his blades are so...uplifting.

It merely means he values what few bright moments all the more for their rarity.

He scrapes one foot along the ground, hoping to mask the rev of his engine, as their blades caressed each other. "Don't get cocky. I've learned a lot since the last time we met.". He couldn't really call that sparring: it might have been in fun for Wing, but it had been deadly serious for him.

[winged_knight]

Wing locks optics with Drift, engines humming in anticipation. A flick of his pinions and he lifts his chin at the word 'cocky'. Maybe it's too late...in one context at least. He flirts with a little pressure, pressing his blade against Drift's, testing for a response.

"I'm certain that you have." It's genuine, there's no patronizing there. "Show me?"

[sword_redemption]

Drift knows enough not to commit too much to resisting Wing's push with the blade, letting his wrist bounce back into Wing's.

Before flicking his wrist around the edge of Wing's blade, his own steel, simple, plain, and serviceable, aiming for Wing's throat.

ooc: can i handwave and say wing had mentioned a spar before to korra?

[not_halfbaked]

[ooc: It's kinda true, we discussed at CR Meme. ^^;]

Korra pulled on Naga's reigns, making them calm to a halt before Wing's practice. Korra watched him do his kata in awe.

When he seemed done, Korra finally called to him, waving a hand. "Hey, Wing!"

He talked about it plenty so that could easily have happened! We can all this a later thread.

[winged_knight]

He turns at the sound of his name, and there's Korra, and... a (proportionally) large white organic creature that she's apparently riding. Fascinated, he turns to approach.

"Korra! It's good to see you well! You had us worried for a while but I'm glad you're back." He looks again at the white creature, curiously trying to make eye contact. "Who's your friend?"

Re: He talked about it plenty so that could easily have happened! We can all this a later thread.

[not_halfbaked]

Korra jumped off the polarbeardog. "This is my best friend, Naga. She must've come through the Lambda thingy. Naga, this is Drift." And the polarbeardog, tail wagging, stepped up to Drift and began sniffing at him.

I'm going to assume you mean Wing instead of Drift. XD DARN WHITE KNIGHT MECHS

[winged_knight]

Wing's not sure what to make of this new creature, but that's most of the fun part. Being in this new places was allowing him to take in so many new experiences and see so many new things, it was amazing.

He assumes the sniffing is a form of greeting, so he kneels slowly, reaching a hand out, palm up in offering, to the white creature. "Hello Naga. I am Wing."

He's half expecting a response. He's not certain if he should be, but he'd rather look the fool for such an expectation than insult a new friend by assuming they were just an animal.

Ohman I'm so sorry! DX

[not_halfbaked]

Korra giggled as Naga licked Wing's offered hand.

LOL No worries! XD

[winged_knight]

Wing is both perplexed and strangely delighted by Naga's actions. He's not sure what to make of them but given Korra's laughter he's going to assume that it's good.

"So...this is how Naga says hello?"

Good... but maybe a little slimy.

Re: LOL No worries! XD

[not_halfbaked]

"Yeah, pretty much." Korra ruffled Naga's fur, and the polarbeardog turned her attention to her, licking her in earnest. Korra smiled, and scratched her friend's chin.

"So, what kind of kata was that? It looked totally cool!"