[ OPEN ] Well I can't stand to be with myself, this liberation's seemingly rare

[ombranera]

WHO: Zevran and Various
WHAT: Zevran sparring and dealing
WHEN: Throughout Drakonis
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Violence, swearing, usual Zevran Content Warnings Apply. Open prompt below, poke me on plurk for a closed starter. Prose or actionspam welcome!

As much as he'd protested Alistair running off on some mission in the west- the time apart gives him that much more chance to train. He'd been doing so privately in the barn, occasionally squaring off against Settimo when they both had the time and patience for Settimo's paranoia and Zevran's over-adjustments for the blind side. Learning to fight with only one good eye is slowly driving Zevran to frustration. Settimo could not come at him hard enough to be a challenge, he could not learn his new limitations without a solid effort on both their parts.

Setting aside his vanity he takes to the training grounds- but working on stuffed dummies is only good for so much. Soon enough he is picking out soldiers and rogues to come at him in the dirt circle. Day to day it goes much the same. Zevran stands with bad eye covered and his swords, with his hands, with a single short sword and calls any that would step up to help him regain his awareness. It is, to be honest, slow going. More often than not if his opponent has any manner of skill he ends up on his ass. But he grits his teeth, stands, and goes at it again. And again. Afterward he recovers with the highlight of his training- a bucket of water to sluice off the sweat and grit of the day. Whether it's the relief the cold brings or the appreciative looks it tends to earn? He doesn't say. But thus he spends his days, training himself or wrestling with the fledglings, who will offer their own commentary and catcalling in Antivan during his other matches.

Comments

[obi_wanmanshow]

Obi-Wan felt the pull and reversed momentum quickly, pushing off and over Zevran's shoulder as he was bid. His bootheels hit the dust with an audible snap, and he kicked again with a soft grunt of effort, bending his knees and kicking out to sweep Zevran's feet out from under him. It was a slight stretch to get low enough, given their relative heights, and must have seemed comical to anyone watching, an absurd end-over-end flip, the two of them taking turns sharing the fulcrum of motion.

Unseen, Obi-Wan grinned a smile that was half grimace. This Zevran-- He was good. He was very good. And this had been a good idea.

[ombranera]

This was familiar. This was where everything else fell aside save the grip, the mental map of the surrounding area, and the fight. This was how he learned to grapple as a crow, bound hand in hand with someone faster, someone stronger, someone meaner. Mentally kicked back to such a place he fell into old habits. Teeth grit in a vicious curve he clamped his hands about Obi-Wan's arm and lept upward, balancing shoulder to shoulder, weight against the man's next as he flipped up and over yet again, attempting to twist the man's arm along with it.

Neither of them seems to be gaining any ground- but that was not the test.

Keeping in motion, keeping from being pinned- that was the test.

[obi_wanmanshow]

He could feel it, the moment when this went from additional challenge to easy. Unfortunately, it wasn't a beneficial ease for Obi-Wan, as he was the focus of these exercises. The temptation to use the Force, to break free into the more familiar forms was strong, but he stuck with it, allowing Zevran the advantage of air and height. Move with motion, strength with strength, Obi-Wan twisted along with the pull of his arm to prevent it from dislocating: fun was fun, but there was no sense in that.

Instead of pulling down again, he leapt for himself, turning the simple flip into a double, heedless of the fence, free hand flailing for purchase. Whenever they struck, whomever was on the bottom would hit hard.

He could feel, with a wince before gravity reasserted itself, that it would, inevitably, be himself. Not all victories come without pain, it would seem.

[ombranera]

A moment of disorientation as he struggled to adjust, adapt- but he knew that feeling. Recalled enough to add his weight at the right time and braced for impact, grinning wide and vicious when he was not the one trapped under the man's bulk. A crackling of Antivan from the fence- commendation, derision, it did not matter. What mattered was that he found time and space enough to twist and pin the man properly.

With the difference in height and breadth and weight it became a matter of leverage. Finding it blind, holding him down without a hand or knee on his throat in an unsportsmanlike fashion? Took a moment. But find it Zevran did.

[obi_wanmanshow]

Obi-Wan coughed around the choking hold, letting go to hold up both hands to placate him with a strangled, "Alright, alright. You've won."

And when, if, Zevran let him go, he comes up laughing; at his own expense, and at the outcome. Not bad, not bad at all.

"Yes, that serves me right," At least he's enjoyed himself, more or less, "Going hand-to-hand with an assassin. Thank you."

[ombranera]

"If you wish to work on it-" Zevran rolled out his shoulders and patted Obi-Wan on the back as he peeled off his blindfold. "I will be resuming lessons within the month."

[obi_wanmanshow]

"Yes, I can see that," He drawls, glancing sidelong at Zevran with the sneaking beginnings of a smirk under his moustache. You're going to be incorrigible about this aren't you? "I might take you up on that. I'm used to a slightly more-- immediate form of fighting."

Blaster-bolts couldn't be parried, and in most cases couldn't even be blocked. You'd have to have Force-given prescience to use it meaningfully, and even then, without a lightsaber....

"Most Jedi techniques are more focused on getting you back to your weapon."