exsiliumlogs | Just keep spinning, just keep spinning--

Date & Time: February 6th-ish [Backdated for great justice]
Location: The Hold Gym/Work-out-atorium
Characters: Blaine Thorps + ERRYBODEH
Summary: He's practicing with his staff. Come bug and distract him.
Warnings: Eh, Blaine potentially flirting? Nah, I got nothin'.

The first few days after the last mission had been the worst. The information he got from his older self was kind of shocking, but he really didn't know where the dark cloud that had loomed over him for days had come from. No matter how hard he tried to sweat it out he couldn't get the events off his mind. Now the unintentional sequestering was over.

Blaine felt a little bit lighter and he could push aside the somewhat foreign thoughts and memories and get outside. Well, outside of his room anyway. He found a spot along the edge of the floor to himself and pulled out the flashlight sized rod out of his pocket. He twisted it and pushed a button and it extended out to its full size, a little shorter than his 6'2" height. He spun it once or twice before he went slowly through a practice form by himself to warm up. Once done, he looked around and spotted someone who looked like they might want a partner.

He gave a half smile, "You wanna spar?"

[[ Prose or action tags welcome. Come at me bros. ]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Of course.

[ But rather than a physical attack, she looses one hand from the staff to throw, palm out, toward him. A flash of light leaves it and streaks toward Blaine. Just for him she toned the spell down, and it should only throw him back without hurting him too much. ]

[The first signal that something was off was the palm facing him suddenly, which made him stiffen with caution, and then suddenly light. Instinctively he moved aside, but it still caught him on the shoulder and he spun, managing to keep his balance even though he stumbled back a few feet.

He frowned at her.]

If you want to practice magic, tell me. Don't just throw shit at me.

[A pause.]

I didn't even know you knew magic.

[ oh yeah, she looks pretty smug. But she doesn't move to do it again, returning both hands to the staff. ]

Magic is in the very nature of dragons. And in any case, you said spar. That's what I was doing.

[He lets out a huff.] You're going to make me be specific.

[Coming back closer he gets into his ready stance again. This time, he waits a second and doesn't ask if she's ready before he lunges towards her, end aimed towards her sternum.]

[ The next spell is already prepared at the front of her mind, and all it takes is a quiet whisper. Then Khisanth vanishes from sight, staff and all. Her spell of invisibility won't last too long, but while it does, she takes care to move quietly as she ducks away to the right. ]

[His staff hit air and Khisanth was gone. He blinked, surprised, but was always on the defensive. He backed up, eyes looking both ways but nothing was out of place. He strains to hear but she's quiet. So, what to do? He spun around, staff extended, going from his right to left hoping to catch her if she was close.]

[ Well, she'd almost crept far enough away. The staff clips her shoulder soundly, and the spell flickers off again. She reappears with a resentful frown, rubbing her shoulder. ]

I should pair that one with a teleportation spell, apparently.

[He cocks an eyebrow at her.] Apparently.

[His staff is held at the ready as he watches her.] Do you know how to use that staff?

[ She glances down at the staff, terribly unimpressed by the entire idea of it. ]

You hit people with it. [ She cocks a brow right back. ] It's not a difficult concept.

[He smiles and makes to go back in with a leg sweep.] Then let's go.

[ She's too caught off-guard to catch herself in time, and the sweep knocks her fully from her feet. She's scowling almost before she lands, and throws another hand out toward him once she's thudded down. This time it's fire streaking toward him, and she's too instinctively annoyed to give the spell any padding. ]

[Oh shi-

He scrambles back and ducks around it, but it's not like a ball or something else solidly tangible. It's fire and the heat is scalding and HOLY SHIT his shirt is on fire and he's beating it out wildly with one and then both hands until he's sure it's out.

There really is no way to look smooth and unconcerned when you're on fire and he looks frazzled and pissed.]

What the hell was that? You don't set sparring partners on fire!

Then don't knock me over!

[ Well someone is a poor loser. She looks pretty pissed herself, in an undignified sprawl for a few seconds more before she pulls herself to her feet.

It reoccurs to her a few seconds later that being knocked over is all part of this sort of thing, but that only annoys her more. ]

Our spar is off.

That's the point. [The driest of tones accompanies that as he picks at the singed strands sticking out of his shirt. He lets out a long sigh.]

Why are you so pissed?

Just keep spinning, just keep spinning--

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