"Hi!" Kenzie replied, with a worthy effort at sounding upbeat. "I'm Kenzie." She took on a readied stance of her own, which at least showed some training, albeit just enough to put her experience level around "novice." However, she wasn't angled quite right toward the opponent she was doing her best to squint at through her thick glasses, and she was too stiff, as though she could throw herself off by flinching at any moment.

Kenzie was clearly aware of her own limitations, as she added a moment later "I know I'm not much, but don't feel like you have to go easy on me." That would just be more embarrassing for both of them, in her opinion.

In reply to Kenzie Rinne (msg # 64):

"Right. Okay."Ross nodded slowly, blue eyes flicking up and down the girl, sizing her up. "Do...you want to take your glasses off first?" She says a bit hesitantly, eyes darting to the side awkwardly.

She's still quite guarded however, unwilling to underestimate a student in this particular school.

That gave Kenzie pause. Since head shots were off limits, she figured she'd take a quick body blow and the ref would call it, but now it sounded like she was going to get her face smashed into the mat before this was over. And this girl not telling Kenzie her name in return wasn't exactly a sign of goodwill either. "Um... okay," she said after a moment. "Just a second."

She took a couple of steps back to her bag, then pressed her thumb into a switch to fold out a small wedge-shaped segment with two glasses cases inside. She opened one of them, carefully took off her glasses, tucked them inside, then closed up the whole arrangement again. With that done, she returned to the mat pretty much by memory and returned to her earlier stance, though at this point it looked like she might just be guessing as to the general direction her opponent was in.

In reply to Kenzie Rinne (msg # 66):

Ross raised an eyebrow watching the girl gingerly make her way back to the mat, perhaps her eyesight was particularly bad?

Ross drops her hands slightly, straightening up out of her favoured boxer's stance. "Are...Do you want to do this?" She says a bit sheepishly but still with an edge of caution.

Kenzie zeroed in on the girl's location when she heard her speak again. "Hey, I have eye problems, not... brittle bone disease," she said with a friendly attempt at humor that was marred somewhat by her delivery. She'd realized halfway through that she shouldn't go dropping "osteogenesis imperfecta" on someone outside of her own family. "The principal said my ranking would be better with zero wins than if I refused to fight at all, so I can take a hit for a better grade. Not that I'm going to throw it, though, that wouldn't really be fair." At least on purpose, Kenzie added to herself. She knew she was a sitting duck at the moment, but she'd probably just get banged up worse if she tried to rush in first.

Round 1, Before the Fight

Creighton took off his shoes back to the mat. Bare feet and hands were the normal in his workout life. Of course, so was losing. Most of his one on one work outs were with family members. His most usual work out partner was Father. And while Father knew how to make sure Creighton grew, learned, improved, there was no doubt that he wasn't winning. Occasionally they went to the local and Creighton participated in rounds against people his own age. They needed an outside measuring stick after all.

Breath. This was no time to be lost in memory.
Breath. It was no time to hurt anyone either. They wanted to rank them. It was fine. But they did not need to see every bit of fight he knew either.
One more long deep breath. He turned and took the mat.

The young man waiting for him looked built for American football. Both taller and heavier than Creighton, like nearly anyone else he'd meet. Creighton sized him up. Athlete but not really a fighter.

Round 1, After the Fight

Creighton helped pull Joey to his feet one last time. "Damn it, I even knew you were going to do that again. How did I still end up on my ass?"

"Tell you what, when this is all done, I'll show you how to stop it from happening." He gave Joey a nod. He understood that frustrated feeling of knowing a thing was coming and not quite knowing how to stop it.

"It just seems wrong." Joey was shaking his head and managed a laugh as he got to his feet. "Sorry about running all that smack when we started. Its just part of the game you know?"

"Not a problem. We're all good right?" They bumped fists. It could have gone another way. Good news about athletes was that they could lose a fight and still make a friend.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:52, Sun 22 Sept 2019.

In reply to Kenzie Rinne (msg # 68):

Ross pauses for a moment, slightly shamed before shrugging, "Fair enough." She looks over at the supervisor who gives a single nod. Despite her earlier conviction not to get overconfident Ross comes in quickly. She jukes right, coming at Lesleigh from her left side, assuming that it would be her non dominant side.

Unless Kenzie manages to re position, Ross will try to go for a standard trip takedown, snaking her booted foot behind Kenzie's own, one hand grabbing her by the collar and then dragging her back in an attempt to trip the girl backwards.

If possible, she'll try to guide her down as gently as possible, instead of just letting the girl drop uncontrolled.


Creighton hears a male voice call out to him from behind, "Hey Richy Rich." If he turns he sees another guy, taller than him but slimmer, all corded muscle and sinew, walking away from his own sparring match. He's sweating but it's significantly better than his opponent whose still on the ground retching.

Apparently he'd managed to land a few good blows before the supervisor managed to call it.

The kid stands and spreads his arms slightly, palms forward before jerking his head back as if summoning Creighton to his mat.

It took Creighton a moment to realize that the Richy comment was aimed his way. While he'd never wanted for any necessary things, making him better off than most worldwide, he'd never been considered well off by American standards.

Creighton moved to check on the downed young man but before he arrived a pair of  older students - who appeared to be waiting for just such a thing - came over and began touching and asking questions to make sure he was OK.

While this boy had not broken any of the rules, he may have just as easily bruised some ribs. "I see we don't believe in pulling punches." He paused at the edge of the mat. "Do we believe in introductions?"

Creighton pushed his hair back with his hands while getting a good breath. In the span of time it took to fill his lungs and empty them again black and gold scales came into  glistening existence over his skin. He left them off of his face since there weren't supposed to be head shots.

He took that last step up onto the mat, feet comfortably apart, and nodded like he was ready to go.

In reply to Creighton Knight (msg # 71):

"Lance Corporal Samson Teller" He grins, mouth quirking into a somewhat condescending smirk as he taps the small rank symbol embroided into his left sleeve. His eyes widen as the scales begin to creep over Creighton's body and his smile falters for a fraction of a second before he recovers.

"You shed that stuff as well? I'm in the market for a new pair of shoes..." He drawls stepping onto the mat, his feet still clad in sturdy combat boots unlike Creighton's bare feet.

He starts begins to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet and raises his hands, his posture firm but flexible.

His light green eyes fix on Creighton's intently and the corner of his mouth twitches, giving his smile a hint of eager restraint as he waits for the word to proceed.

Creighton looked unimpressed with the rank and demarcation of it. Maybe he didn't know the meaning of it. Or maybe he just didn't care about it. "Careful there Samson, one good buzz cut and you'll be weak as a kitten."

He caught the eyes of the official to let him know he was ready. And turned one hand flat up towards Samson to offer him the universal gesture of 'bring it on'.

In reply to Creighton Knight (msg # 73):

The supervisor drops his hand and Sampson darts forward fast, lighting fast. He explodes  forward like a sprinter off the start mark. His fist dives then surges upward in a viscious up-jab to the stomach. Creighton manages to twist back and to the side, allowing Sampson's momentum to carry him forward before batting the fist away while allowing the momentum of his own movement to carry his own jab.

Sampson stops and rebalances almost as quickly as he started, unable to deflect or dodge Creightons follow up he twists himself, pivoting like a dancer.

Instead of Creighton's fist hitting his soft belly it instead glances off his ribs. Despite that the hard punch still elicits a sharp exhale from Sampson but at least it's not a kidney blow or worse, a direct blow to the solar plexus that the hall had seen Pandora through her first fight.

Sampson darts back, the whole exchange maybe having taken about five seconds if that.

Touch to Creighton...

Samson was clearly accustomed to catching people by surprise with his lightning assault tactics. In the first furious exchange it didn't work.

Anyone who had Samson pegged as a one trick pony quickly learned otherwise. His posture said he was going to do the exact same thing, charge and fist-stab. Instead he stopped the charge early and took advantage of his longer reach. The initial kick he launched was double-arm blocked by Creighton.

Samson continued the motion as if he'd expected the block and stepped into surprisingly fast striking long range jabs. One hit Creighton in the shoulder that could have been a head shot instead.

It was one to one. Samson stepped back, bouncing on the balls of his feet like he'd just won the whole thing. They paused for a breath, long enough for the supervisor to restart them, and it started up again.

Samson stuck with his favorite charging start but was met on his way in. Creighton ducked in, under, and down. Samson was in the middle of reacting and adjusting when his legs were swept and he hit the mat on his back. His training showed, he landed like he should have but he smacked the mat hard with his hands, angry with losing the point on a knock over.

Kenzie was better at detecting movement than picking out static targets, so she was at least able to orient herself toward Ross as she approached, but it still didn't do her much good. She didn't even see the foot coming in to hook her until it was too late, at which point her inexperienced efforts to balance herself were no help. She wound up making a surprisingly - to her, anyways - gentle landing on the mat, just as Ross intended.

Kenzie kept her guard up for a moment to be sure Ross wasn't going to kick her or anything for good measure, then said "Um... Thanks. Congrats on winning." She wanted to be a good sport, but she had a feeling if she said something like "good fight" it would come off as insulting. Instead she stood up, smiled a little, and offered Ross a handshake.

Talberon's laughably mistimed kick prompts, well, a round of laughter from the large crowd. The Crewcut Kid grins broadly and comes in swinging, but Talberon has no trouble evading the untrained punches while launching a probing counteroffensive of his own.

Which the crewcut kid dodges directly into, taking Tal's fist squarely on his nose.

Eamon's voice echoes over the din, "Oh shit! Hey man, if you're gonna lose, you should try and lose with some kind of dignity. Hey, you okay?" He checks on the flattened freshman and while blood is pouring out the crewcut kid's nose, he seems to be merely dazed as Eamon makes him sit up and then has a pair of his followers help the guy up and haul him off in the direction of the aid station that is rapidly being set up.

Cally doubtlessly feels vindicated.

Since they're moving around so much now, it's hard to avoid noticing that Eamon and all of the other feisty kids with black leather jackets all have the same large patch on the back of them: a demonic-looking skull with a bullet hole in the forehead.

Tal shakes off the fight with Crew-cut. He chalked it up to his long-dead ancestors' residual Irish luck. But seriously, Tal is not much of a fighter, especially not one with these handicaps. He'd rather light someone up like Christmas tree than get physical.

He stood on his mat and waited for his next opponent. Whereas he and Crew-cut weren't ridiculously uneven matches. His next opponent was all of 5'5" and filled out every muscle. Tal's scrawny self gave a silent swear at the sight. Upon which, he crossed himself.

Well, here goes nothing.

"Hey, leprechaun, better run along. Some kid needs his Lucky Charms," bellowed the challenger in a thick Australian accent.

That's fresh. Never heard a leprechaun joke before.

He readied himself. One foot back, one foot planted his shoulder blades, fists up, and ready for a fight. But this time, even Tal's impetuous self wouldn't strike first.

The lumbering mass toyed with Tal a bit. He probed with his fists on both sides of Tal, multiple times. Tal side-swiped and ducked each punch. Tal may not put up much of a fight, but he sure doesn't like getting hit when he's in one.

"Well, if that's so, it turns out you're just unlucky."

Tal finally saw a chance. He let the teen drawback and swing, his fist screaming towards Tal's chest. Tal ducked under and threw a quick jab towards his challenger's sternum. It was enough to take the wind out of the guy's lungs.

The lumbering mass staggered backward, stunned. Trying to recover his breath. But though obviously out of commission, he came back onto the mat, hyperventilating, not wanting to yield to the little twerp. Tal lightly brushed his legs aside. Now on the floor, the teen still struggled for his breath and finally yielded.

Tal was smug at his more worthy victory, "Looks like your luck's run out. I'll get ya a rabbit's foot before there's a rematch. Looks like you're gonna need it." But then he realized that it was just that they were both untrained and, in this match, speed and smarts won the day, just barely. But if he went up against anyone with an ounce of training. He'd be toast.

He isn't a total jerk, despite the trash talk. Tal walks over and helps the boy to his feet, which took quite some effort on his part. "The name's Tal. You did well out there. Hope for you to have my back someday."

The teen took some deep, controlled breathes with his hands on his knees and looked at Tal. "Thanks. The name's Tommy. And you're quick on your feet for a runt like you. Will definitely look forward to it." He did keep a careful eye on Tal as he walked away, having seen the commotion that had ensued surrounding Lesleigh.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:23, Mon 23 Sept 2019.

Ross blinks at the extended hand, a little surprised. She shoots a quick look at the supervisor to make the the round has actually finished and Kenzie is not trying for a cheap shot.

In the end she takes Kenzie's hand, her own is surprisingly gentle, not limp but not over compensating either.

She gives Kenzie a nod.
"Thank you." She starts to move away before turning back, a strange look on her face. "There are...less risky ways to get a grade you know..." She tilts her head towards the rest of the hall, "You could have ended up with someone...meaner..." She nods to Thorne, who despite being winded and battered still cut an intimidating figure, "Like her...or worse..." The blond nods towards Pandora.


Sampson stands up slowly, his grin gone and his face twisted into an ugly scowl. He stands, bracing himself back and in a blink his scowl vanishes into the same cock sure grin as before but this time, Creighton notes, it doesn't meet his eyes which almost glint with malice.

Again he bounces forward, this time slightly more defensively. Fists jabbing forward as he circles Creighton, attempting to get at him from the side instead of head on.

Creighton denies him any easy side swipes however, keeping up with quick side steps that stop either of them from anything but a face to face fight.

As if trying to break the deadlock, Sampson moves forward aggressively,  throwing several easily predictable strikes that Creighton bats away with ease.

A subtle voice instinct nags at the back of Creighton's mind however a split second before he sees the strikes for what they are.

A distraction.

For him and the supervisor...

Just as he parries the last one, Sampson steps forward and drives his booted heel as hard as he can onto Creightons bare, unprotected foot.

Kenzie's handshake was similar to Ross's, gentle without being overly weak. After that, between Ross moving away and Kenzie not having her glasses, it was a wonder she could guess at all who Ross was nodding to. Her nodding toward Pandora as the "even worse" didn't do much to endear her to Kenzie, but she was having trouble getting a read on the military girl in the first place. After a moment she decided to just be direct. "I wouldn't really know, so I appreciate the tip... What's your name, anyways?"

The downkick happened high and hard, with the clear intention of breaking bones. Later on, reviewing the fight in his mind, Creighton would not be able to say for certain if he let it happen or if it really did catch him unawares.

Did he set up Samson or was it just the tiniest bit of luck?

The boot heel landed on Creighton's foot. Like nearly all the rest of him right now, it too was coated in scales. If it would have been his actual bare foot, or even in just a sneaker, it would have had the desired impact. Instead, Samson reaped some of the rewards due to him for how he won the previous match.

Samson's strike hurt but no more than any of the rest of the real strikes he'd landed so far. The surprise of not having Creighton go down showed in his lack of follow up.

Creighton stepped around Samson, bringing a long arm with him for leverage and threw the larger boy down to the mat. At the same time the official came over to stop the match. Successful or not, Samson's intention was clear. Creighton was declared the winner of the match.

The referee in Creighton's contest with Samson motions him closer while a pair of the black leather coat wearers insist, in a friendly way, that Samson shut his mouth and accept the result, maybe sit down, have a cup of juice, do some self-reflection - the smart things to do, essentially. The referee, a gentleman on the older side of middle-aged and dressed more formally than the other faculty speaks with a British accent. "Just to be clear, Mister Knight, I am overlooking the use of your power only because it was in counter to an illegal move. If that's clear, nothing else need be said on the matter."



Over at Pandora's mat, the familiar voice of Tex greets her warmly as he arrives on the scene, but he seems to be there for the other girl, Jill. "Before you get too excited about facing Pandora, Miss Fisher, Ah'd like to point out that the rule is for females to fight the other females."

"Huh!?" She looks like she's about to launch into a tirade but Tex holds up his hands in a mollifying gesture and says, "Ah don't make the rules, and Ah can't change em neither. But seems to me you've got a taker, so if you beat her you're clear to fight Pandora."

"Who the-!?" Jill starts to look for this opponent Tex was referring to and stops dead when she finds Lesleigh standing right beside her. It's at that moment that most of the other people nearby realize that she's there as well, skittering back with muttered curse words and a couple of people crossing themselves.

"If you're willing, of course," she says with her best attempt at a friendly smile.

"... Okay. Okay, that's fine. Then I'll fight the Ukranian."

Tex goes to stand beside Pandora, make small talk, and make sure that she's understanding everything correctly while Jill and Lesleigh square off - if it can be called that. Jill finds herself hesitating as Lesleigh's utter lack of experience combines with her petite form to make her look almost helpless. Almost, when a glance at her eyes reminds one that her real strength is altogether different than this.

Jill's first hit lands firmly in Lesleigh's gut, making her stagger back, but to Jill's surprise and Lesleigh's credit, she doesn't fall and comes back for another round. Then a third. On the fourth, Lesleigh makes her best effort at a punch of her own and gets swung completely over Jill and slammed full force into the mat. "Stay down, damn it!"

She doesn't.

Angry and more than a little unsettled Jill circles Lesleigh and says, "Is there some point to this? Are you trying to look pathetic, perhaps?"

"No, I merely concluded that this was the best way to have this conversation."

"What conversation?"

"The one about you thinking that I might be dangerous to Jason."

"How the fuck do you know his- You didn't."

"We did. We went to New York on my broom. I'd call it a magical evening but I can't decide if that's too cliche, or too literal. It's probably both."

Jill is so shocked that Lesleigh's feeble blow lands firmly on her chest. It seems to be just enough to snap her out of it, and Jill retaliates with a punch to the head so fierce that Lesleigh spins clear around before she falls over onto the mat. Tex and the referee both start yelling, but Lesleigh simply sits up, albeit wobbly, and says, "It's fine. I expected that. Well, I obviously can't win a fistfight so I will admit my loss now."

Jill stares as Lesleigh walks away, more than a little discombobulated...

"Sergeant Ross" Ross replies, "I'm with the military students..." She says, a touch of pride in her voice before she looks down at herself in her uniform and coughs sheepishly, "But you probably guessed that..." She shakes herself, straightening up, "Are you here with anyone else or just as a private student?" Ross queries.

Sampson jumps up, snarling as he rises with the intention of another lunge at Creighton before he's stopped by the Black Jackets. Even then, he looks as if he's considering his chances before Jason steps up from behind him, his own fight finished with only minimal hassle.

"Take five Corporal." The larger kid says levelly.

Pandora turns towards Tex just before he arrives at the mat she was sparring at. She looks up at the tall, barrel-chested man, raises her right hand up in a friendly gesture, and says, "Hallo." Despite her tone being warm, her expression remains stoic.

She watches him step over to the shorter, brown-haired girl and speak with her. She gets that, apparently, the girl called 'Fisher' wants to challenge her, but, apparently, she has to spar against the smaller girl first who, apparently, isn't actually blind despite her strange eyes.

She seems to look at Tex as he comes back over near her and tries to explain the short list of rules to her while she also keeps an eye on the sparring match. She notes that the little girl is tougher than she looks--taking several hits and coming back for more--and that the Fisher girl doesn't like her for some reason that she still doesn't understand. Maybe the Fisher girl is big boy Jason's girlfriend and the smaller girl is challenging her because of it? She mentally shrugs. She blinks when the small girl gets punched hard in the head. That seems mean to Pandora--considering the smaller girl's eye condition. The Fisher girl doesn't seem as funny now as she was earlier when the youth soldier group paraded in.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:08, Wed 25 Sept 2019.

"I did, but I couldn't see if you were wearing a name tag," Kenzie answered Ross's comment. "I'm here by myself. My family does some work with the military, as civilians though." She glanced back at her bag. "I need to get my glasses, so I should probably let you get to your next fight, huh?"

In reply to Kenzie Rinne (msg # 85):

Jill watches Lesleigh walk away for a moment before shaking herself back to alertness. She clenched her jaw and breathed in deep through her nose, her brown eyes flicking to Jason as he lines up on Creighton's mat and her face is a mask.

She pivots on her heel and strides purposefully, past Pandora towards Ross

Ross nods in response to Kenzie's question "Yes. Uh...It was nice to meet you-" She tags on to the end, unsure of how to end the conversation before Jill slaps on the arm and jerks her head towards to door.

"Dave, we need to talk." She says, her tone low and serious.

Ross opens her mouth to retort, probably to bawl Jill out for her lack of proper address.

Then she sees the look Jill's eyes and her mouth closed with an audible click. She starts towards the door, followed by Jill who casts one assessing look over Kenzie before moving off.

Pandora looks at the Fisher girl as she walks past her. She shrugs her shoulders.

She heads over to where Kenzie is at. She steps up close to her--perhaps closer than the American girl is accustomed to--and says, "Hallo. Kenzie okay?" Pandora doesn't seem to think anything in particular about stepping a bit into Kenzie's personal space one way or the other. Perhaps it's just an Ukrainian thing.

Seeing Creighton and Jason getting ready to spar, she asks the auburn-haired girl, "Kenzie want see Creighton fight big boy Jason with Pandora?"

Ross's first name was Dave? Had her parents decided they were going to name their after the baseball player regardless of gender? Well, Kenzie supposed it wasn't really her business. It kind of explained her reluctance to give her first name, maybe. "Nice to meet you too," she said once she wouldn't be interrupting Ross and the new arrival.

She turned back toward her pack to go get her glasses, figuring maybe she could meet up with Pandora next and see how she was doing, but it turned out Pandora beat her to it as she was walking back. Fortunately Kenzie recognized Pandora's strawberry scent, or she might have been alarmed having a blur step so close into her personal space. Instead Kenzie figured she was helping her out, since she could barely see past that distance. She came to a stop to make sure she wouldn't bump into the Ukrainian girl. "Oh, hi Pandora," she said with a smile. "I was just on my way to get my glasses. I'm fine, Sergeant Ross went easy on me. And, sure, I'll watch with you. How did your fight go?"

Kenzie wouldn't be watching much of anything without her glasses, so she finished taking the few steps to her pack so she could slide out the segment with her glasses case and put them on.