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

"Seriously? What kind of job do you have where you... point fingers like that?" He cannot imagine what you would do for a living to do that. Unless he was a stage actor, but Phoenix didn't seem... artsy enough[?] for that.

A thought that would hurt just a little had Blaine said it out loud. But Phoenix simply laughs and raises up his hands in a shrug, shaking his head.

"It won't be fun if I tell you the answer! Try guessing, if you're bored enough?"

Fortunately, Blaine did have a bit of a filter. A tiny bit. He stroked his chin. "Construction worker or who of those guys who directs planes."

"Bzzt. Wrong. I'd say you're close, but I don't want to lie to you."

Blaine's thinking about it. "Stewart?" He does the motions of a flight attendant pointing out the exits. "I really have no idea."

"I'd make a bad stewart." He laughs, and shakes his head.

"Actually, I'm just a pianist."

"Air sick?" He has to ask, because that is definitely a bad stewart. At the revelation though, his mouth quirks up.

"Really? I'd like to hear you play." He may even ask Phoenix to help him shape up with practicing more, if he felt like one more thing on his plate.

"You don't, believe me. For the most part, I can't play a single tune on it."

Blaine blinked at him. "...what do you do to feed yourself then?"

"Well, I do get paid to sit at the piano, but I also do other things on the side."

He laughs, sounding carefree. "My daughter's a magician, so she works around too."

"Do those things involve pointing? Or are you mooching off your daughter?" He says it with a laugh though. "She must have patience."

"We don't call it mooching, but she's the bread-winner of the family. We also run an agency together and she's the chief." He shakes his head.

"Anyway, the truth is, I'm not sure how much of my past I can risk telling people here without it getting back to some people from farther back in my past and screwing up some time-space continuums, so I can't even give you a real answer."

He gives him an amused smile, but doesn't say anything more about mooching. "Someone has to win all the bread."

The second part has him eying Phoenix more closely. "I know what happens to me twenty years in the future. I didn't have any memory of this place until I came back. Even people who have left and come back when the tech wasn't spazzing say they don't remember this place while they're at home."

"Oh yeah? Well, that's a relief." He takes note of that. The history-changing mechanism might work differently for them than for the Exsilium-United Earth universe (maybe?)

"But I guess, it's best I keep a low profile about it."

"If you don't want them to know, you've got your reasons," and Blaine shrugs, "but don't try to make it for reasons that it's not, now that you know it doesn't effect your own universe."

"Now that I've been told otherwise I'll remember it. It makes things a little easier, too. Thanks.

"Now, though. Can you give me a few tips? I'm not exactly ready to spar right away but I can gather theories, right?"

Blaine let that topic go and switched gears. He wasn't an expert himself, but the basics he had down. Those had come back to him the fastest after not doing it for a couple of years. Thank you, muscle memory.

"Sure," he said. "I don't know what style you're learning, but since your weapon is long range you can't let them get too close. I hold mine like this," and he shows Phoenix. "It makes it easy to switch for a block or parry."

"Like this?" He keeps his eyes on Blaine, trying to mimic his movements and copy his stance. He's a little stiff; he's obviously never held a staff before.

Blaine stands and moves to stand in a better spot so Phoenix can see. "Weight balance, like this." And he sinks into his stance. "Hands positioned here and here."

"Weight balance..." Sandals still aren't the best choice of footwear for anything other than short walks, especially not training with weapons. His feet slide easily across the ground, sure, but it's not easy to plant them in place. His weight balance isn't terribly incorrect though, and he manages to position his hands mostly right too.

"How's this?"

"Good," Blaine said, and gestured for him to straighten his back a bit more. "It'll be easier barefoot or with better shoes."

He shifted his weight stood, curiosity compelling him to ask, "Why'd you choose a staff?"

"I would argue that I know my way around in these shoes, but I'll think about it." He does as he's told, straightening a little bit.

"Well, I didn't feel comfortable with guns, and swords too. I'm really not a big fan of things that cut too easily."

Just keep spinning, just keep spinning--

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