my_belfry_of_fun | Shenanigans with Dragon!

Considering the active-plasma on her blades, that his did not instantly break or take damage was hopefully not a surprise. The heat didn't seem to bother him, although if he let her connect with him on her countering strike, it would hurt. At least, as he was right then.

Since their first match, he'd learned and never came to spar with her in more than just a shirt, slacks, and boots. He had also usually powered up and transformed before engaging with her. The change in air-pressure was palpable as Trunks started to glow. Energy swirling around him, where he stood, clashing with the pressure of the plasma of her blades.

Trunks kept a rein on his ki only so he wouldn't hurt her. Knocking her away, making her fight to continue the strike, much less her feet and position, was fair game. Blue-eyes were starting to change to green, hair fluttering up and glowing golden-white like the energy around him.

It was almost like in that first match, when he'd gone through the column of energy she'd shot at him.

No surprise at all. Had his sword been at risk, she expected he wouldn't use it.

Hmph. Blocking strikes with the power of his energy. Again and again she regretted the loss of her Blades, which would have made this point moot. She threw her foot back, so the pressure of his aura skidded her back a yard or so but didn't threaten to overbalance her, then snapped her swords apart with two quick backwards motions so she could lash forward at him with swift and decisive strikes. Sheer force often proved the answer to a resilient barrier, and whipcord strikes of a whipblade had overwhelmed many in the past.

Well, Trunks was mildly impressed--albeit not surprised--when she only skidded back. The whip-strikes were also an unsurprising tactic for her. Now that she wasn't so close though, Trunks had no reason to modulate the energy as much. Keeping his blade lower, but at his side and eyes focused on her, Trunks walked towards her slowly.

Sheer force was something he could bring to play too, and was challenging her now to bring more of it. To withstand his own onslaught of sheer force.

All right, then. This wasn't accomplishing much at all. Switching tactics then; her next strikes sent the whips wrapping around him, aura and all, so she could yank him closer and off-balance. And ideally into her boot, which she raised to aim straight at his face as she pulled.

There was a hint of smirk, as he expected something like that. Yanking him, she could do---just not off-balance. With a shout, Trunks increased the output of his ki again, arms coming up and moving to give him slack from her whips. Careful of the close quarters, further using his sword to tangle the whips away from him and catching her boot.

"I'm not surprised." Voice slightly lower. "But I am impressed."

She glared at him over her leg, using more or less pride alone to keep upright.

"Yes, I'm certain you're very impressed by my inability to affect you in any way. Well, now that we've driven home how unforgivably weak I've become, I have some knitting to learn, if you don't mind letting that go."

That hit him, and he made a noise his throat, dropping her boot and dialing back the aura. "No, you're right..and I'm not. I usually know better than to let myself get arrogant." Still transformed, but his guard was actually down. Despite the low-voice, he was genuinely contrite.

"With power like that, coming entirely from yourself, I can hardly blame you." Her inability to do anything at all galled her something fierce. All her life had been spent training to be the best, after all. In every respect, but most certainly battle above all.

"It burns through me faster." Trunks offered, reaching up and smacking himself lightly in the forehead. "Usually I'm far more my mother's son, than my father's. I'll try to remember that."

"Or y'know, you could beat it out of me." Despite the confidence, there was an awkward smirk on his face, bringing his blade up in guard.

"Well. Then shall we begin again?"

That offered a clue, actually. She might be able to exploit his lowered inhibitions somehow -- though how exactly she was supposed to do that escaped her at the moment.

It had offered her two clues actually. But then, they weren't enemies--and Trunks actually would prefer someone know how to take him out, in case he did become a threat to his friends and their safety. She had a ways to go before that though.

His style and way of fighting was more active than hers, as she'd noticed before. So it shouldn't have been a surprise that he charged forward, both hands on his sword as it came in for a low-strike. Engaging again, and focusing on using his blade against her own. Switching easily between one hand or two hands holding his blade, as well as close-in kicks or strikes. Trying to knock her off her feet or to dodge more than simply by moving to the side or stepping back.

Occasionally his dodging of a strike took him out of the closer range of their blades, where she struck out with the whip-effect instead. This made a combination of his own evasion from quick steps and pivots or more active tumbling and jumping necessary. It also gave him opportunities to strike out with some of his own blasts, power-calculated to sting her if they hit.

Testing her and pushing her as well, before they engaged close-in once more. Keeping each other close once more, with only a pivot or just enough of a roll or flip to avoid a strike. Except now Trunks was, once more, dropping one of his hands and starting to add those stinging-ki-strikes.

As it was she had just caught the edge of one at her stomach, pivoting slightly out of range while he took a half-step forward into her guard. One of her blades locked with his own and held out to the side in a wide-arc with him using greater strength to keep her from pressing it in closer. But Morag was skilled, and a quick twist of her wrist had Trunks moving fast to block the plasma-blade's thrust, energy still glowing as he caught the blade.

Deadlocked for both of them for a few heartbeats.

Edited 2019-12-12 00:06 (UTC)

The longer the exchange went on, the more fluid her movements, as she set aside her irritation and focused entirely on the spar. As she did, and saw that he was at last working on a level closer to her own at the moment, she slowly began to smile. By the time they dropped into this lock, it was a full-on smirk as her shoulder pressed against his, no muscle in her body able to loosen without surrendering an advantage.

"Well. I see now that if we were on completely equal terms, I'd have to teach you a few things so you could keep up with me."

He liked her smile, and he liked her smirk too. Enjoying being able to draw those out, challenging her more even if it wasn't a challenge for him in the same way. His hand glowed with ki where he gripped her other plasma blade to keep it away from his hip.

They were close enough to see the hint of perspiration from her plasma-blades, heat between them from the exertion as well as the energy from him and her swords. Like her, he refused to surrender an advantage, body tense and muscles tight. "I thought I was keeping up pretty well." His own smirk, green-eyes bright and all but sparkling. With amusement, with battle. "What else you got?"

"Yes. Powered up like that, you're keeping up."

She leaned into him, pressing against him with the strength in her legs and back. No, she didn't expect him to tip over or anything like that; what she expected was for him to push back enough to keep his balance. At which point she'd jerk back so that he overbalanced, and make her strike!

"It's what allows me to not get injured by your plasma-blades. Seems like you're having more fun with it that way too." Oh yes, that sass had come back, with hints of teasing it seemed. "Would you rather I wasn't?" A golden-colored brow arched, chin and nose tilted up slightly in challenge.

She would've had to be a great deal stronger to knock him over or push back as they were. Or to strike at his legs, throw him off balance somehow, gain leverage herself. It was subtle, but he was indeed using just enough strength to keep her from pressing him back--and as she increased in trying to push him, he increased that push back.

Yes, there it was. As he put more strength into pushing back, she suddenly stopped her own push. In the moment he was still putting effort into moving against a barrier that was no longer there, she twisted, neither breaking his grip nor releasing her advantage -- the better to make him stumble, and go down with her in the superior position atop him.

That wasn't a position she'd normally seek out, but -- being close to him wasn't particularly unpleasant...

Had Morag actually paid attention to how fast he could move in battle? If he wanted to outclass her again, Trunks would've turned the stumble into a duck-to-a-rolling dodge. Or pivoted around behind her in a blink.

But outclassing her wasn't the challenge--pushing her limits, and letting her practice and train with her weapons was. It was enjoyable too, and probably the easiest way to spend time with her. Which was also enjoyable--spending time with her.

The way they were tangled, unless one of them wanted to drop a weapon, there was no where to go but down. Trunks hitting the ground hard, but not bothered by the impact. Or by Morag looking down at him.

Of course she had. But speed was no substitute for basic principles of leverage! And she certainly did not want to drop a weapon, nor did she think her weight landing directly on him would cause any trouble whatsoever.

"I think I've claimed the advantage," she said, her face only a couple of inches from his since her arms were tied up elsewhere and couldn't support her at all. Complaints?

Leverage was a universal force, and it's why her tactic worked whether he try to correct it via speed or not.

"None, but you have 2 seconds" Green-eyes narrowed, bright and focusing on her, mouth twisted in a cross between smirk and scowl. "before I" It was in a hundred little cues, when he realized their position. Just how close their faces were, how she was pinning his hips down for leverage. How she bent against him to issue that challenge, with their arms pinned. "throw..you..." Trailing off, his mind having just realized quite a few things.

Not the least of which that he had a woman he was attracted, pinning him to the ground. That his the adrenaline of battle was still flowing in his veins but changing to a different heat. The transformed state was not helping, considering he was always a little more reckless, more in touch with the hotter emotions like anger...

Edited 2019-12-12 01:38 (UTC)

"Before you...?" she said, daring him to finish that sentence. Her eyes practically sparkled thanks to the glow from him reflected in them, and her breath was warm against his lips. Go on, Trunks. What, precisely, were you going to do?

Well, he had been planning to throw her off of him. Then a better idea had occurred to him, and while neither he nor Morag had any real experience with dating... She had to know what she was doing.

So hopefully it wasn't a surprise, as his head tilted slightly to the side as he leaned up and in. Eyes closed, energy thrumming around them and through him, to meet her lips in a kiss. No hesitation or hints of shyness as there had been at other times.

No. It wasn't exactly a surprise. Strange, perhaps even weird, and she was so completely out of her depth that a small part of her felt nothing but terror... but wasn't the purpose of sparring to improve a skill, to get better, to make the actions more natural and become more confident in them?

She lowered her head to meet him, catching his mouth with hers quite willing to return that kiss with warmth and delight both.

Granted this usually wasn't what sparring was used for.

Lips to lips, with only the barest of movement in the form of soft tastes and sharing breath. Banked heat and fire from them both, and so at odds with the tension of their bodies, hard muscle still keeping plasma blades at bay.

Well, it should be.

The feeling of their bodies still locked together, and both of them half-aware that slacking their attention would lead to the other taking advantage on that score, added a particular spark to this. Her kiss started to challenge, as if she was gradually considering this another path towards victory -- or perhaps she simply wasn't as cool and dispassionate as she claimed to be.

It was a wonder she couldn't feel or hear his heartbeat, as he could hear hers. Elevated, likely from their sparring earlier although part of him hoped it was staying high for other reasons. The feel of her kiss changed, and he met her implied challenge easily. Mouth slanted against and over her own, with a low noise in his throat and echoing through him.

Frustration, or something else?

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