fandomhighdorms | The Gym, Monday Afternoon

Illyria had been less than pleased by finding that no one worth sparring with had been available yesterday ~~due to how late her player pinged into that thread, shh~~, but she supposed she had managed some of that much-advised 'socialization' at least. Still, words, even exchanged with fellow demons, were no substitute for hitting things, no matter what the demon in question might believe, so. Here she was. At the gym.

Where there was, as Cal had promised, a punching bag. There was also a music system, and the science wasn't so advanced that she couldn't figure out how to load in Pure Disco 1.

At first I was afraid, I was petrified...

The music was nonsensical, but there was something about the words and the beat that made punching and kicking a stationary bag of sand the tiniest bit more satisfactory.

Thinkin' I could never live without you by my side....

The punching bag might not agree. Then again, it also might not survive the experience, so its opinions were of relatively low value to Illyria.

[OOC: Open like a box without a cat in it! P.S. I has a squishee. Mostly Red.]

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Ah, the one who had spoken of avatars to her. Illyria offered the girl a cool nod as she continued to pummel the bag in time with the music, which by now had shuffled to Funkytown.

Azula nodded back then raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Has the punching bag displeased you?"

"Only in its predictability," Illyria replied. "But it stands in for those who have, if poorly." WHACK.

"The bag doesn't hit back," Azula pointed out. "Would you care for an opponent that does?"

Illyria turned sharply at that, and caught the bag with her elbow. "Gladly. You're human though. I've no wish to break you."

"I'm amazingly resilient," Azula said, letting her arrogance show. But after her class, she needed something to relieve the tension she felt. "And anyway, this is a spar. You do know what a spar is, right?"

Oh, this was going to go so well.

"I know what a spar is." She'd never possessed the power to wither beings with a mere word, but oh, how she would like to at times. "I sparred with a vampire before I came here. But humans are brittle. I have no wish to kill you accidentally."

"The only way you could kill me," she said, dropping into a ~~Kung-fu~~ Firebending stance, "was if I let you."

No fire in the fight but she could manage with hand-to-hand.

"That's usually the way of such things," Illyria pointed out, not wasting time with stances that might telegraph her intent, just swinging out with a low, sweeping kick.

Azula leapt away from the low, sweeping kick and executed a drop kick of her own, not afraid to enter Illyria's personal space.

"Nice." Spoken while bending back almost in half to let the kick sail past her, then snapping up to launch a fist at Azula's head.

Which, judging from the speed could have taken her head off. It was fortunate that she was also as flexible as Illyria demonstrated. She let gravity control her movement and she ended up in a split, she released her punch aiming for Illyria's knees.

It connected, but not at full force. Illyria was preparing to spring over the other girl, so the blow hit her shin as she leapt, knocking her off balance.

The graceful roll and leap to her feet behind Azula that she'd planned? Not so much. Instead she landed hard on her side, but struck out again quickly with her other foot.

Azula had snapped to her feet and noticed Illyria's kick too late. She flowed away but it hit her. It was like being hit by a boulder.

Another person would have been limping after the hit but as Azula told Fiona, she trained with boulders. She did, however, did a back flip to get some distance away from Illyria.

She glanced at her foot and then repeated Illyria's tone, almost mockingly. "Nice."

Mmm, bitchy. Illyria could appreciate bitchy. It was a little like having Spike back, minus the streams of inane prattle between the brief flashes of intelligence.

She didn't follow the glance, just noted its path and aimed for the opposite shoulder when she flipped forward onto her hands and launched a drop-kick from there.

Azula expected an attack but not quite that fast. She barely slid away, she did throw out a hand attempting to capture the attacking leg and released the other hand she had chambered to her side and then released hoping the momentum would bring her punch power.

It was a little like punching a boulder, too. It hit Illyria's thigh as she completed the flip, feet a second too fast to be caught by the other hand. The impact knocked her landing off by an inch or two, but she still hit steady.

She landed to Azula's side, and shot a punch in that direction, towards her midsection, with almost the same force she'd been using on the bag. Almost; the bag didn't have kidneys to damage.

The hit was jarring and Azula felt it all the way to her shoulder. She wished she could use her fire now.

Azula turned to the side and knew the punch would have been the end of her if it had connected. She brought up a knee for a strike, attempting the same effect but knowing it would merely graze Illyria's side.

Ironically, if she were using her fire, there was a good chance Illyria would be a nice toasty indigo color. At least about the face and neck; it might prove a fun guessing game as to whether the armor would deflect the flame entirely or she'd roast alive inside it.

Grazed she was, though, and she spun with it, letting the momentum drive the twisting kick at Azula's stomach that followed.

Azula leapt over the kick and once again showed she had no qualms or fears getting into the personal space of someone who could take her head off. ~~Kung-fu~~ Firebending was all about aggressive attacks, releasing and focusing motion into devastating action.

Azula released her left hand in a snapping straight arm punch, aimed for Illyria's throat and just as she was about to crush Illyria's throat her hand stilled.

Illyria could take her head off at this range. It was a gamble. They have, metaphorically speaking, knives at each others throats.

Azula's stilled knife on Illyria's throat was an invitation to cease hostilities. For the moment.

Illyria's throat might have something to say about the crushing -- in another timeline, even Marcus Hamilton wouldn't quite manage that -- but at the very least, the girl was fast enough that it would have knocked the breath from her, enough to give openings she didn't care to give.

Stopping it, on the other hand -- with the other hand -- would likely end in the very thing she'd said she wouldn't do. Instead, she nodded her own head once, then brought her hand up flat between herself and Azula's fist.

"That is satisfactory."

Azula stepped back. Placed her fist just below her left palm and bowed. "Good fight."

The Gym, Monday Afternoon

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