The Salle, Monday Morning

[bitchprince]

The fight last night had worn away the more passionate edges of anger, and left Arthur in a pensive mood as well as bruised and battered. He didn't mind bruised and battered. Bruised and battered meant that he could now turn his focus inward, make himself a little smaller.

His drills that morning were hence under tight control, slow and focused, like every blow came with a unity of concentration and thought that left little room for anything else. He didn't know if Dinah or Romeo would show up that day, and neither, really, did he care very much.

[[ salle is open, of course, although i might be slow ]]

Comments

[bitchprince]

"If he has any concerns, I'd appreciate it if he brought them to me," Arthur said, almost deceptively mild. "Now, are you ready?"

Romeo was very, very lucky not to have brought up any of the bits about his manservant. Thank you.

[ sorry! LJ swallowed all of my notifs ]

[withoutverona]

"I think one of his concerns is that he doesn't feel he can bring them to you," Romeo answered, in as mild and offhand a tone as he could manage. He stood in a defensive crouch. "And as ready as I will be. Shall I begin again by trying to kill you?"

[bitchprince]

"Of course he doesn't," Arthur muttered. Leto was, at many times, a complete and utter girl about anything he could get away with being a girl about. "I'll take it up with him before he involves anyone else in it. And go ahead. We'll see if you've managed to learn."

[withoutverona]

Romeo debated if he should say more, but decided the potential costs of putting himself into this fight were greater than any possible benefit, to himself or to the reserves. Leto could certainly speak for himself more than well enough, anyhow.

"I don't mean to involve myself in something between the two of you," he said, and, to mark how very closed off the matter was, swung out with a right hook to Arthur's chin.

[bitchprince]

"Good," Arthur returned, ducking Romeo's punch so he could strike his elbow out at the other boy's sternum. He was getting a little faster, Arthur noted, idly.

[withoutverona]

Faster -- fast enough to twist away from the elbow's full impact -- but not so fast that it didn't hit him on the side of the chest. Romeo hissed a little at the blow and backed away a step, then lowered his fist and aimed at Arthur's stomach.

[bitchprince]

Nice change-up, he also noted, but that part was too slow. Arthur reacted on reflex, attempting to knock Romeo's wrist away-- although he didn't add any obvious follow-through. The point of this wasn't to beat the hell out of him.

He'd had Zack for that, yesterday. Time to get back to work.

[withoutverona]

Romeo was grateful for the lack of effort put into beating the hell out of him. Among other things, he had to sell clothes all afternoon, and a broken nose tended to put customers off.

"This much is getting easier," he observed, half to himself as his wrist glanced off Arthur's fingers. He brought that arm back in toward himself, then tried a sharp, firm kick.

[bitchprince]

"You may actually grasp a few basics at this rate," said Arthur, in praise. He really, really, really welcomed the distraction; it kept him from caving back in on himself as he inevitably would when left alone this afternoon.

He shifted his leg to let the kick glance off his thigh, causing a sting of pain, but no real damage-- could've caught the leg, but that was the intermediate class-- but it was enough to let him bring his knee up on the other side.

[withoutverona]

"You overflatter me, Arthur," Romeo said dryly as he stepped to the side to avoid the incoming knee. The dodge was successful, but it left him without an obvious follow-up because he'd managed to forget he had hands; his arms were in a block in front of him.

[bitchprince]

"And now it's like beating on a turtle," Arthur informed him, not even bothering to strike. "You do realise your arms don't cover everything."

[withoutverona]

"Next you're going to tell me I don't become invisible when I pull a pillow over my face," Romeo told him, circling to the side. He finally figured out what to do with those arms and aimed a swift right hook at Arthur's ribs, left arm still guarding his midsection.