[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

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.

[winged_knight]

And a response he gets!

Wing jerks his head back instinctively, protecting his neck. The move is a well chosen response, with Wing so deep into Drift's guard.

"Disengage. Well played." Drift might not have any formal training in blade work, but his natural talent and instincts performed well in its place.

The knight eases back on his blade extension, falling into a more defensible stance. "What else do you know?"

[sword_redemption]

Drift pulled the blade short of contact, of course. Though, he'd admit that trying not to be lethal was a rather new experience for him. Still it was probably a bad thing to tell Wing that.

Another thing not to tell Wing was probably telegraphed by the slight catch in his ventilation. It was wrong, but the idea of a blade so close to that delicate throat....was a little hot.

Drift cleared his vocalzer, hoping to mask the noise, as he stepped back. "What don't I know is a better question."

[winged_knight]

He might have parried it, or dodged away, but he hadn't.

There had always been something about Drift. The...intensity he had. It had always attracted Wing. He was different by far than any other mech in New Crystal City. The violent ferocity he had when they met, it was quieter now, more controlled, directed. But no less intense. If anything... it was more intense for the focusing.

Wing dragged a long, slow breath through his vents, barely supressing a shiver, before Drift stepped away, pulling his blade with him.

"You might be right about that." He lowers his weapon but does not dismiss it. "So. Are you still willing to push my limits?"

oh god everything he says suddenly sounds pervy i'm so sorry ;-;

[sword_redemption]

It is a broad, open platform, and they were surrounded by nothing but the open air, but it suddenly felt...really intimate here, Drift's EM field flaring toward the other.

He steps farther back, trying to disentangle his field, regain his composure. Swords. Fighting. Sparring. Yes.

He cycles another vent. "Didn't think you had any limits." The cocky smile is a bit wobbly. He'll get there.

But at least he has the wherewithal to drop into a fighting crouch. "Let's see what you've got."

This is whole thread is delicious sword porn, it can't be helped! (I started it anyway, LOL!)

[winged_knight]

Wing is having some trouble focusing now. He ex-vents again, the sensation of Drift's EM field shifting against his own is provocative and only partially in the area of melee combat.

His foot scuffs the ground as he shifts into a more combat ready stance.

"Limits? Depends on what we're talking about." There was no way he was going to evade the subject, so he might as well run with it. Sparring, regardless or swords or hand-to-hand, was sometimes close, intimate work.

He sidesteps, making a slow strafing circle, watching, learning Drift's movements.

"But everyone has limits." His mouth quirks. "Mine is in assuming all people fight fair, right?"

Wing jabs in with several swift, small strokes, testing the other swordmech's guard. Then he returns that cocky smile.

"But if you're willing to stick it out. You'll get to see it all."

and then drift had to go and make it all angsty

[sword_redemption]

"That's not a limit, Wing. That's a weakness. It got you killed."

...welp. That sucked the sexy out of this conversation. But it reminds Drift, again, how miraculous it was to see Wing again. And how much he'd do to never, ever see Wing like that again.

A few of the quick test strikes get through, partly because Drift is distracted and partly because, well, he doesn't really spend as much energy on guarding as he does on assault.

He shakes his head, tossing that mood off, and then lunges in, coming in below a guard toward Wing's thigh. He may not be perfect on defense, but he's got some skills on offense.

"Who says I'm willing to wait that long?"

Of course! Where would Wing's mini sun be without his little black rain cloud counterpart?

[winged_knight]

Wing flinches, it's difficult not to. As much as he's been avoiding the topic, its what all this is really about. He was determined not to have a repeat, but that meant as much experience in practical, live combat as possible.

Most of his blows are pulled, inflicting little to no damage but close enough to make the heat of his blades felt. Drift's timing is good however, as Wing's own defense is a touch shaken thanks to the earlier disruption.

Wing sees Drift commit the energy to the lunge just before it happens and circle parries low to catch the blade, but he's out of position. Even shifting back to pull his leg out of range the tip of Drift's blade still drags a shallow mark over the top of his thigh.

"Nice." The jet concedes, noting his own error. "Impatient. You really enjoy rushing into things, don't you?" Not that Wing would mind...in some cases.

[sword_redemption]

Drift has faced worse than that light, licking little heat, almost more a tease than a threat. Wing was good, very good: his style restrained and elegant while Drift's was...efficient.

He gives a whimper as his blade scores Wing's thigh, as if he were the one in pain, apology written in every line of his frame.

He frowns, straightening. "Not nice. Lack of control.". It proved his point of earlier, but he'd rather have been wrong.

He gives a shrug, "Life's too short for patience, sometimes."

[winged_knight]

What he could read of Drift's weapons work so far was very direct. Drift's own style crafted from logical, instinctive approaches, possibly with some influence from the Great Sword. Wing wondered if that were true.

"I meant more you exploiting the opening." He would have made the same choice.

"A scratch." Nothing terrible. Nothing that would slow him down. And if they were to do this training the way Wing needed it, there'd likely be worse to come. "Learning control comes from needing to have it."

Life's too short is an odd saying to apply to mechanical beings that live for multiple millennia, but then Wing's recently discovered how true that saying can really be. And those regrets he had? He plans to do something about them.

"Sometimes...yes."

[sword_redemption]

"Habit.". For good or ill, he had too long experience in using the blades for one purpose: killing. Even sparring was foreign to him, much less these kata Wing had spoken of,

He gives a nervous laugh. "I'm not used to being the one doing the teaching." He flicks his blade playfully toward Wing's chassis, too far away to make contact. "You'd better hope my methods are gentler than yours."

"It is when you realize what you've got to lose."

[winged_knight]

Blades are good for killing; that was a capability every knight needed to be intimately aware of, but so that it could be their last option.

"Not too late to generate new habits."

He grins back at Drift, optics tracking the tip of the other's blade. "I guess we both get to try new things then, hmm?" A quirk of the mouth, but not due to cockiness, as he resumes a combative stance. "You don't have to be gentle."

A slow nod. "And how swiftly it can be gone."

[sword_redemption]

It was the best possibility to keep in mind, in Drift's mind. That it was always potentially lethal, that one careless stroke, one thoughtless swing, could kill without intent.

It was one reason he kept the Great Sword with him, and the reason he figured the Knights did, too: a reminder of how dangerous their power really was.

He gives a quiet snort of laughter. "You're always trying to teach me new habits. Last time I was with you, tried to teach me to fly." Or at least crash land a lot. It feels strange to even try to make a joke of it, but he's trying. It should be in the past, harmless. He hopes.

"I don't want to lose---" He cuts himself off abruptly, the word 'you' still swelling in his vocalizer.

[winged_knight]

It was part of the responsibility of a warrior, a solider, to have respect for his ability to change lives. Taking lives in order to save lives was a constant balancing act. Anything that helped preserve that balance and keep perspective was a boon, like the Great Swords they bore.

Wing blinks a moment, confused by Drift's comment. And then it hits him, and there's an indelicate snerk of amusement before he catches himself.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't..." He'd cover his mouth if he had a free hand, but the way his pinions quiver slightly in mirth would still give him away. Wing shakes his head to recover his composure, falling out of stance.

There's a catch in his vents at Drift's next words and he looks up, eyes darkly sincere. "I don't want that to happen either. To either of us." Wing can't make promises in this regard, but he can do everything else in his power to prevent it.

[sword_redemption]

Drift gives a cautious grin. It was supposed to be funny, but, well, he's not really that good with humor. And Wing, laughing, was a beautiful sight: not fretting over him, not aloof and distant but just...real, and warm, and almost approachable.

"Wing." The grin crumbles. "I...I'm sorry. About." He can't even finish the thought. And he knows Wing will likely say the words, but he knows...it's not enough. Some things even forgiveness doesn't heal.

[winged_knight]

And now Wing really wishes his hands weren't full swords, because he'd much rather they be full of Drift.

"Drift... I--I know."

It's something that can't be stopped. He's drawn forward, his blades going quiescent, face lambent with sincerity. "Please, you know I don't hold it against you. You made a mistake, but everything else you did was right." He covers the last three steps in one, launching himself at the other mech, both sword grips jammed into one hand, his arms wrapping around Drift in a hug that he hopes is not unwelcome.

[sword_redemption]

"I know you know." A slight sullenness in his tone that he fights. "But it doesn't mean I shouldn't say it. I need to. To say it to your face." It's the least he could do.

And it's all he is able to say, as Wing throws his arms around him. He almost flinches back--his mind screaming that this isn't real, this isn't really happening as much as he wants it to, and that if it was, he wasn't worthy--but then tilts forward, his own hands awkward and hesitant around Wing's waist.

[winged_knight]

Wing's hand slides a little more tightly over Drift's backplate. He tucks his head in near the white audial. "Say whatever you need. I'll listen."

The embrace is the best way he can think to forgive, when words don't feel as adequate as they should. So he lets his actions speak for him, his presence searching, reaching, hoping for healing for them both. Mistakes had been made, bad things had happened, but Wing knew Drift had done everything in his power to make things right. All Wing wanted now was for them both to find some happiness.

[sword_redemption]

Drift pulls himself out of it, abruptly. He has no right, whatever Wing might say. He forfeited any right to Wing ages ago, and more than that, he had no right to make his wants Wing's burden.

He releases the jet, reluctantly, a smile that's almost on the edge of tears on his face. "Swords," he manages, barely audible over the hum of his cooling fans.