whatever you say mrs majesty | spar

[BASTILLEPAW]

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BASTILLEPRISONER AURELIUS

BY THE GRACE OF THE FIRE AND THE FLAMES

Once upon a time, Bastille had picked out Roy as his sparring partner, though of course with Gen's interference and Hazel fleeing the scene he'd never actually gotten the chance to have at the older male. He had to admit he was a bit sorry for the loss, if only because that could only be entertaining as hell: Roy wasn't exactly the most practiced, given his history as a human, but Bast was curious to see what he could pull off. He certainly had the warring personality of someone who would fight well, and he was always game for a good match. As he started to get bored with his pointless patrolling exercises, he exhaled and found himself standing in the middle of the Circle, staring about.

The thought of a spar had occurred to him yesterday in a fit of boredom and restlessness, and it came to him again now. After a beat Bast finally called, [b]"Where's Roy? Someone go get his ass up here; we're sparring." Evidently Bast didn't really need him to accept the invitation, and if Roy for whatever reason saw to refuse, he could pick out a new match. Whatever.

[ [member=312]Col. Mustang[/member] ]

[B]ASTRAL SERAPH — THE ASCENDANTS — [color=#e2e2e2]TAGS — [color=#e2e2e2]MOODBOARD — [color=#e2e2e2]PLAYLIST

[Roy Mustang]

While it looks Roy knows what he’s doing regarding fighting- the truth is, he really doesn’t know what he’s doing. Roy has experience with fighting as a human, his life had been surrounded by the military as long as he could remember. Plus, his flame alchemy was almost always his number one defense, unless his ignition gloves were wet- then he was useless. Thankfully he still has his flame alchemy here, which he uses whenever he needs to- like that time Beck attacked him, the raptors surrounded him, and when the Typhoon raided(though that didn’t last long, he was thrown into the star pool). He was going to spar Bastilleprisoner all the way back, but some complications came up that made them unable to actually go through with it.

Roy could only wonder why Bastille thought this was a good time for a spar. They’re stuck inside the observatory, unsure if they can get out and they’re slowly running out of food. If it were up to Roy, he would have asked about the spar after this whole situation passes by. But as soon as he heard those words escape Bastilleprisoner’s mouth, he knew that Bastille must not care if they’re locked in or not. Thankfully the observatory is more lit with candles and lanterns, so the bobcat began to make his way over to the Astral Seraph.

"What a nice time for a spar Bastille, in the middle of a lockdown." The male commented as his gaze landed on the feline, eyes gleaming with determination as he accepted the challenge. Without another word, the bobcat would attempt to pounce at him, making the first move.

[Zjarr]

[div style="width: 45%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]Ah, a spar! The weary demon had come to miss the little bouts with his old Clanmates, those little competitions of strength, stamina, reflexes, and strategy to keep himself sharp and on his toes in the event of engaging in actual combat, may it be a raid, fending off intruders and invaders, or simply a disgruntled brawl with some asswipe. In his home in the second realm Zjarr traveled to, spars grew excruciatingly scarce, likely for two reasons: the first being that it was a quiet and almost empty place, the second being that those who did reside in it were either quite young or merely not suited for sparring with the likes of him. He hadn't really valued the pastime for what it truly was until his chances to engage in them grew terribly thin.

The cyborg wolf knew better than to intrude on their match, so he let his build rest upon the hard floor not too far from where Roy and Bastille brawled, his heterochromatic hues gleaming amid the relative darkness. A cigarette dangled haphazardly from the male's jaws, and a prosthetic digit was lifted, the metal claw erupting with a blaze that was summoned by Zjarr himself, setting the end of the cigarette ablaze before extinguishing the little flame and setting his metal paw down, little puffs of smoke occasionally arising from the canine's direction as he watched the two quietly.

[glow=#f24b00,2,300]how'd it get so scandalous?[/glow] — ☼

[★ HAZEL]

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as love filled night gives way to day

Last time Hazel had been to a sparring event had resulted in the destruction of her art supplies. That was...nearly two months ago, and miraculously, no one knew about it. Not even Margy or Suite. (And honestly, if Bastille guessed it out of the blue, she wouldn't be surprised.) So much had happened since then, including Hazel's want to learn something in the way of self defense. But the concept still had her a bit too unnerved for her liking, so her first step would be to watch a sparring session. It just so happened that the one in question was Roy and Bast.

"Please don't seriously injure yourselves." The chocolate feline tucked her paws underneath her, still a little too far out of her comfort zone but too determined to leave. "We don't have enough medical supplies to save both your lives." There was a teasing lilt to her voice and a smile to acompany it, but sincerity ran as an undercurrent beneath it; they really didn't have a lot of medical supplies, and couldn't afford a major disaster that resulted in more injuries than they could handle. She was also readily bracing herself for the plausible pain that might lace the bond stretched taut between her and Bastille, knowing it would be easier to watch the match rather than to double over in the middle of her room from an unknown cause.

HAZEL E CAELUM — STARSTRUCK GUARDIAN — MOODBOARD — PLAYLIST — TAGS

© MADI

[MirrorEdge]

The word 'sparring' immediately drew Thea close by, like a moth to a flame, as the young leopard made her way over, the glossed-over look in her eyes that had been there soon after the lockdown happened, replaced with a spark, even if she was a bit disappointed she couldn't spar. Maybe ask to battle the winner later.

Materializing next to Hazel, she had come in time to hear her words, tilting her head. "If we wouldn't have enough medical supplies to save them, why not just kill one and treat the other?" A bit of an unsettling question, but it made plenty sense to Thea, who'd never really mourned death, having never experienced the feelings that came with taking a life.

Unlike Roy, she thought it was the perfect time to spar. Something to lift people's spirits, something to do, even if they could only watch.

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[VERSAILLESPALACE]

Versaillespalace remembers sparring with her mother, once. Her eyelids squeeze together and flashes of angry claws sailing past her whiskers lurk in the darkness, writhing in the chasmic abyss of her memories until they're too close, too real that it jostles her out of her unwilling reverie. Her mother may not have been the gentlest of hearts, but she'd certainly been the fiercest of warriors.

She remembers picking herself up at the end of the fight, only to be knocked down again with an angry paw to her head. Do better, her mother had said. Do better or you're dead.  She'd promised to be the one to kill Versailles if she didn't learn quickly enough how to defend herself, and while it was wrong it had done its job, for day after day the young she-cat would fight as if her life depended on it... until she learned. It was never a question of if, just when. It was never a question of whether, but how long.

She wanders over with an unfathomable expression on her face, claws clicking against the cold floor. The air around her is lit up with her glowing, golden markings, warm but heavy with unwanted memories infiltrating her subconscious. The panther comes to a stop next to Hazel, mismatched eyes flashing towards the others briefly in greeting before taking a seat to watch.

Thea's question wrenches her out of her thoughts, and she's quick to press her lips together before formulating what could be considered as a response. "Because it is merely a spar." Her glowing speckles flare out before dimming, not wanting the light they emit to be a distraction to the combatants.

I THOUGHT THAT LOVE WAS A KIND OF EMPTINESS

VERSAILLESPALACE  A.

© LEXASPERATED

[BASTILLEPAW]

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BASTILLEPRISONER AURELIUS

[b]BY THE GRACE OF THE FIRE AND THE FLAMES

Bastille offered Roy a roguish smile as the bobcat finally appeared, heeding his yell fairly quickly; he supposed he shouldn't be surprised, given that he was usually quick to emerge when needed. Grumpy as the damned soldier could be, he was dependable, Bast would given him that; with the shadiness of his initial arrival in the Ascendants aside, Bast actually liked him. Except for when he liked to call him Fullmetal or lecture him like a cranky old elder, of course, and besides-- he had to maintain appearances by not telling Roy as much.

His gaze flickered briefly to the side, and he offered Hazel a boyish grin at her request. He already felt more relaxed, muscles loosening up in anticipation of fluid movements, and the flickering rush of adrenaline was enough to improve his mood before anything ever happened; he might have offered her a playful retort, but there was a flash of movement. To his satisfaction, Roy fought in the same manner that he did: dirty. Bast rarely offered any warning before starting a spar, and was pleasantly surprised to see Roy launching himself at him just as abruptly.

He rolled his shoulders and dropped backwards, letting Roy hit him without resistance; instead he focused his energy on twisting with the sudden impact, using the momentum to try to roll them sideways and push hard with his hindlegs to fling Roy to the side as well. Absorbing the weight of the bobcat wasn't great on his shoulders, the roll not quite taking the blunt impact out of it, but Bast was willing to sacrifice some bruising.

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