citylogs | [closed]

[ hong lu grins. the beckoning gesture is one that's universally understood. it reminds hong lu of the days he had practised with his older brother, though those bouts often ended in ways that suggested they were real bouts for at least one of them. without his guandao, hong lu knows his reach to be shorter. but the young man in front of him is also shorter than he is - he has an advantage in reach, he knows. then, he will simply have to press it, and see where it goes.

hong lu's body shifts, a single, fluid stroke of his hand, and suddenly he's crossed the distance between them - because hong lu has never had just the strength of a human. the first blow goes low for a knee, ]

Eyes up here~

[ and the second a right-quick kick up for the young man's chin. ]

[ He's quick. Quicker than he expected for a man of his stature—but no matter. The Wanderer is just as quick to adjust as he spies the faint tensing of Hong Lu's muscles suggesting his attacks—and dodges the blow to the knee. His arm blocks the kick to the chin—Hong Lu hits decently hard, but it's not anything usual for a human—and then he jumps back to put space in between him and the other man.

He's content to be on the defensive as he slowly learns the other man's style. Between the two of them, he's more than confident that he will outlast the other in a battle of endurance, so he can afford to play at patience. He waits for Hong Lu to approach again. ]

[ oh, hong lu thinks. something is wrong. he knows it because he knows his own body. it had been the only thing that belonged to him, after all, this body of his - they'd began his training young. mornings were dedicated time to hone his strength; evenings were hours put away for the blade. hong lu knows the heft of each of his strokes down to the last bit of energy expended - and they're lighter than they ought to be.

fun, hong lu thinks. it means that he needs to work hard after all. hong lu's centre of gravity shifts. he ducks beneath the next swing, and then hurls himself across the field to meet his opponent. again, he approaches. again, he jabs, a flurry of high and low blows meant to disorient. ]

Oh. [ hong lu says, two minutes later, as the young man darts back again out of his range. ] Are you still gauging me?

You don't think me a careless opponent, do you? Or are you suggesting I'm running out of cowardice?

[ Two minutes is enough for a preliminary assessment of Hong Lu's abilities. He switches gears, from defense to offense, and suddenly, he's in Hong Lu's space, returning the flurry with one of his own—a mix of punches and kicks. The last punch is a feint into a roundhouse kick to the taller man's side. ]

[ hong lu laughs. the blows come in quick succession, much like a whirlwind in motion. the little man is quick. hong lu blocks the blows with an up-raised arm, and then flips, twice, to vault over the roundhouse kick, which comes at the heels of a feinting punch. the third flip gets him back far enough to tilts his head admiringly. ]

You're the tricky kind, then. I like tricky.

[ hong lu winks his one, cyan eye. then, he falls into another form, slow, and flowing, and beckons hat guy to come at him once more. ]

[ Is he going to be on the offense while Hong Lu is on the defense this time? He doesn't dislike this role swap—but the change in form has him cautious. ]

Heh. Can you handle this?

[ He dashes forward as the other beckons him but he's careful to watch for unexpected moves as he throws out several more punches in rapid succession, half of which are feints or fake outs. He doesn't have anything to rely on. No Anemo or divine powers, so the only thing he can do is be tricky with his hand-to-hand combat. ]

[ the change in form shortens hong lu's reach. he remembers learning about it from the elders who taught this sort of thing, how they emphasised the switch in forms because a fighter must be flexible based on who they face. hong lu has never particularly cared for their lessons, but there really wasn't anything to do save to learn. so hong lu learned.

hat guy comes forward in a flurry of blows. hong lu carefully parries each one with low, slow movements, arm to leg to the long angles of his body. a feint will bring a blow, so hong lu ensures there is plenty of surface area to hit. he is laughing by the end of it, hopping back just a smidgeon to offer hat guy a low kick in playful reprisal. ]

You're having fun~ But I am too. Hey, who taught you to fight the way you do? You fight as if you've always had to claw for survival.

[ He dodges that low kick with ease and continues the pressure, trying to determine if there are any openings in Hong Lu's defense. It's a learned style, careful and precise. Despite his lack of common sense, he has been formally taught combat, the drifter notes.

It's true that the Wanderer was never truly taught how to fight, at least when it came to hand-to-hand combat. What he was taught was swordplay, but only in regards to testing blades, rather than for actual combat. Everything else, he learned by scrapping it out with bandits and monsters in his travels, but especially with the creatures of the Abyss. To say that he fought to survive would be accurate. ]

What about you? You're not as much of a wild beast as I thought you'd be.

Hm? Why would I be a wild beast? I'm a very well-trained one, after all. [ hong lu laughs, because of course he had been - it had been training since birth, after all. he had been kept in a cage, and so it follows that the way he fights must be the same as all the other caged animals. he wonders if the way people who were caged and people who weren't fought differently. perhaps that's why one was for survival, and one was for sport.

the blows continue. hong lu presses the advantage, falls back with the flow of things. by the end, he is bruised, and aching, and on his back as the young man with the hat stands over over.

hong lu is grinning. he also has a bloodied nose from where he'd let himself be hit just long enough to get a kick in himself. it's that sort of fight. ]

Ah~ [ hong lu splays out his arms. ] That was fun. I haven't fought anyone since I came here, so I was ready to be disappointed, but this place really is a good time. I had a really good time, Hat Guy, so I won't even mind it if you killed me now or something.

[ Though he has no visible injuries like Hong Lu, the Wanderer didn't come out of the spar pristine either. There are dirt tracks where Hong Lu has landed hits, even on his face when the other man had scored a particularly good kick and almost knocked over the drifter. But in the end, it is he who wins. He smirks triumphantly as he stands over the taller man. ]

Now why would I want to do that when I already have a favour in mind that I need you alive for?

[ The Wanderer holds out a hand to the fallen man. ]

[ hong lu looks at the hand. with a smile, he clasps it, and pulls himself up. he is limber as he stands to attention. around him, his hair is a terror of a waterfall, long and murk like an untenable galaxy.

his hand slips into his pocket for his extra hairtie. hong lu says, ]

Ah, right. The bet. I've never done anyone a favour before. What is it?

Did you hear about the upcoming gala?

[ He'll take a moment to pull up the advertisement by Ghost on the network and show it to Hong Lu. ]

It's a black tie event, meaning we're supposed to dress up for it.

[closed]

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I just remembered this thread takes place before wanchan's chat with hythlo but /wiggles hand