It's been a while since you've seen my sword....[Kiyr]

A note would be on Kiyrs door in the early morning.

"Kiyr-

Morning. If you have nothing planned, feel free to stop by the practice fields, so we can talk.

- D

PS: Also, bring a sword."

When she arrived David would already be there, sitting on a bench, talking to the Dragon in his hand. He would turn to Kiyr as she approached, offering a small smile. He would put a hand behind his head.

"Hey. You up for a little sparring? I'm curious to see how rusty you got since I last whooped you."

He let the smile broaden into a full grin. Something he wasn't used to doing for her.

She'd risen a little later than normal; and it wasn't hard to notice the white piece of paper stuck to her door when she stepped out into the early morning's light. Blue eyes skimmed over the first line of the brief note. Practice Field? Sounded like she would have to...

Ah. Yes, exactly. Bring a sword.

Kyrie stood, staring at the note in her hands. It wasn't quite what she'd hoped for - somehow it was still her going to him - but, she wasn't about to stoop to playing games over it. She would go.

So, instead of things for gardening, she slipped back inside her earthship house and went to grab something more appropriate for training.

As she approached, Kyrie was struck by an urge that had been programmed into herself for the past five years: avoidance, when it came to David. Still, she ignored the discomfort and took him and Scarlet in, coming to a relaxed stop. A spar would shake the unease, set them a little more to rights. Or so she figured, and apparently David did, as well.

Her eyes softened a little at the grin, disarmed by it. An answering smile curved her lips.

"I would be disappointed in myself if I let my skills get rusty." Her left hand lightly pat against the hilt of the sword at her side, though he would have seen it as she walked towards them. "Good morning, Scarlet."

David would nod, letting his grin fade a little.

"Yeah, I'll be the judge of that."

Scarlet dipped her head in hello before jumping off David and snapping open her sings to fly over and land on Kiyrs shoulder. She would rub her smooth head gently against Kiyrs neck before crawling under her shirt at the front to rest between her breasts. David, meanwhile, drew his sword, walking out onto the field with his back to her, twirling it a bit. He'd turn back and raise his blade.

"Come on then,Kiyr."

Kyrie smiled as the little dragon took wing to land on her shoulder. As Scarlet rubbed against her, she brought her hand up to brush her fingers fondly against her side.

Yet, before she could scoop her up to set her on the bench, the tiny creature slid down her shirt! The blonde inhaled quickly out of sheer surprise, blue eyes widening. Unexpected. Very unexpected.

Exhaling slowly as David beckoned her, she rolled her shoulders, putting Scarlet's whereabouts out of her mind while being aware she now had precious cargo on board. Rolling her shoulders, she slid her sword free and stepped forwards on light feet, anticipation kicking in and making her blood begin to sing. She rotated her wrist, the sword moving with the motion before she relaxed in place, sword point towards her opponent with her arm slightly bent.

"Challengers first..~"

Something about her tone...was teasing. Reminiscent of a "ladies first" gesture. But she was poised, waiting.

He let a slow grin pop on his face, lurching forward and slashing with his sword lightly from her top right to her bottom left. He would follow with using strength to force the speedy little woman to adjust by pushing forward and throwing a snap kick for the front of her knee. It was not done softly- that shit would hurt. David had never been one to take it easy on her- you couldn't truly learn what battle would be like if someone made you feel soft.

If she was able to dodge, it would be assumed she let her eyes drift down a little to catch the movement of the leg, so he would reach up with his other arm to grab her wrist and push it to the side, bending his sword arm and throwing an elbow for her cheek. Yeah, not playing around at all.

Kyrie had briefly considered meeting him head on, but she wasn't cut out for strength. And, against David, that would be utter folly—he clearly outclassed her, and his reach was something that continually challenged and frustrated her.

And made her better.

So when the strike came, she pushed backwards off her forward foot and used her sword to ensure his weapon continued through by angling the point downwards in a deflective movement—but only that much, as she didn't set her foot down, but to the side to step to the outside of his sword arm, and thus couldn't maintain sword-to-sword contact.

His push towards her had her stepping back, double time. The kick was fast, and a surprise. She would throw herself to the outside, the kick clipping and certainly hurting, though not as much as it would have had she been standing. The blonde tucked herself into a brief roll - using her arms as cushions and to guide the direction so she didn't squish Scarlet - to come back onto her feet, still close. It would hopefully enable her to step forwards in a slash towards his midsection from the side, and save her throbbing knee for...well, likely all of a moment or two before she would have to move again.

David's eyes followed her movements, however, her standing would probably not come with the slash as he would take off after her, keeping up the pressure. He would attempt a slash at her shoulder, his intent being to force her back to keep up the pressure, or to force her to duck to avoid the blow. 

Assuming she ducked, he'd tilt his blade so the flat side would hit her as he would simply bring it down on top of her head with a light "PAP" of the metal. At the instant it hit, he would leap back, assuming also that her duck came with a strike. He'd would shake his head, all humor gone. This was training, and if his blade hit there he would have killed her. He wasn't shaking his head because he was disappointed, but more just to indicate he would teach now.

"You have to take my strength and turn it against me, remember? You aren't rusty, I can tell. Just not used to fighting me. Turn my advantage into your strength, while utilizing your speed. Redirection, remember. Go."

He would dart back in, attempting another slash from her top right to her bottom left. 

Though part of her expected it, the immediate pressure in the form of a diagonal strike meant there was little time but for her muscles to react.

And, a duck - and movement inwards - was the natural reaction. The pap of the blade's flat registered around the same time as she pressed in, her elbow strike to his midsection clearly missing. He'd been expecting it, of course. The blonde could feel the tops of her ears burn in embarrassment, and knew it was likely her cheeks were suffused in pink as well.

His words, while reassuring, didn't take it away. She'd been sloppy, and sometimes instinctive movements weren't the best. He had the upper hand.

Kyrie inhaled slowly, letting the embarrassment and frustration slide away with a nod. It was true. She was no longer used to fighting with him, and it would have cost her her life. Time could do that, and did, but she gave herself no excuses, and would not complain. With her exhale, she set back up, and he finished speaking.

Her body would just have to remember. But this time when he came in, she was ready. Twisting with a slight step, she brought her sword up two-handed for some added stability, the edge of his blade crashing against the flat of hers, her blade already angled in such a way and moving to deflect his movement further inwards.

And then take his leg out by snapping her foot to the outside of his knee, his body likely having turned a little with her deflection. Her blade was recovered, and if she should have succeeded in her counter, brought up as though to take his head—provided he didn't roll.

It would, though, stop just short if not.

Theeere we go. His forward force and momentum would be his downfall. Back in the day, he beat her a few times at the beginning, but she perfected fighting him, and he was almost always fought to a standstill. She defeated him as often as he beat her. More often then not, they fought evenly. That was the optimal rest. Where they got so good, they knew their own strengths and weaknesses....he would get her back there.

And she was a really quick learner.

He pulled his knee back, lifting his leg up a little as he turned to the side. Her kick struck home, but his movement took a lot of the force out of it. Still, it pushed him off balance, forcing him to roll to the side. He kept his eyes on her through the roll, and as he came up, assuming she was pressing the advantage, he would whip up the blade, intent to it her on the inside of her right thigh. It was a rash action, and knowing her, he would anticipate a reaction that would be both painful and humbling.

Like usual.

He'd gotten stronger; even with just a deflection, her arms and body felt it. But then, it had been a long time. Despite that factor, her money was on her first thought; years of building and hard labour would do that. She must have, as well, but it was a poor time to judge.

The blonde, indeed, closed in to press her advantage, keeping up with him, her sword close but waiting for an opening she could use that would likely come to light as he moved to regain his feet; and considering what her own intention had been with her roll, it was a fair assumption to make that caution would better serve her.

So, she used the flat of her blade once again as his slash came upwards, in a downward quarter circle, and knocked his blade inward, further, keeping contact to step in, and throw a left cross for his jaw with a slight pivot of her heels and torque of her body, his blade hand's position likely making blocking that more difficult.

He jerked his sword arm back down, slamming into the flat of her blade and deflecting it- but too late did he notice the fist. He brought a hand up to try and block but was too slow, the fist smashing into his face. He grunt, and snatched at her arm, aiming to grab at the thicker area of the forearm, just before the elbow.

With his block, his blade would be between her body and his, so he would whip it up, aiming to punch her back. Not as hard as he could, as he didn't want to damage her too badly, but hard enough to leave a fat bruise. Then he would attempt to put the blade against her neck. It would feel intensely dull, blunt. His Qi was protecting the blade, again a rare use of his ability but necessary for their sparring.

Not even as skilled as he was, would he risk harming her.

"I got you beat."

He would grin, glancing down at his blade. Then he felt a light tap against his groin, causing him to look down further, where her own blade would be pressed against his crotch. He would look back up at her and cock an eyebrow.

"Well played."

The blow jarred her arm, but she was committed to the punch, and had the satisfaction of her blow connecting and causing him some pain, some discomfort. The grab to her arm tipped her off that it wasn't over, yet, and the punch would hit, the blonde attempting to shift her weight and turn, but, it was still going to leave a pretty mark.

She'd turned just enough to slide her sword between his legs as his blade pressed against her neck. Her head turned back, eyes slowly drawing up to his as he spoke with her chest rising and falling fairly quickly; she wasn't winded, but this was exertion all the same.

Her wrist twitched a little as an eyebrow rose.

Tap.

"...do you, now..?"

Not that he would be able to entirely see, but he wasn't the only one taking precautions. Her entire sword was black, covered in her own qi.

"Thank you." She blinked, easing the blade straight downwards despite the protection, disengaging it from its former position. "...that was enjoyable."

And she could still feel Scarlet; hopefully not feeling too jarred for all their moving around.

He smirked, proud.

Scarlet was seemingly unmoved, rumbling in purrs and sleep. She had trained with David so often that this was nothing. She slept right through it. David, meanwhile would nod, sheathing his blade with a hiss as the air burned off it. He would run a hand through his hair before wiping a little blood off the cut on his lip from her punch. She'd gotten much stronger. He was glad. Strength was important to him in every facet that it existed. You either got stronger, or you withered and died.

"Oh...did you think we were done?"

He hurled himself forward, having waited until she sheathed her sword to try and grip her throat, throwing a harsh uppercut for her midsection before turning and throwing her across the field. He removed his sword belt, letting it fall as he chased after her, now ready for them to beat the ever loving crap out of each other.

Well, not totally. They apparently still had to tal—urk! His hand closing around her throat meant she reacted purely on instinct: her knee snapped up for his groin! And if that didn't connect, her leg would be fast to straighten with the momentum.

His eyes bulged with the knee, the pain not setting in immediately-so he shifted his uppercut for her right breast, before turning and hurling her sloppily. Then he fell to knee and onto his side, propping himself up with his forearm as his stomach shattered with pain. He coughed, eyes open and face scrunched up. He would slither back to a knee, taking deep and steady breaths. He was still proud through the pain. Fight dirty, fight true.

"That....all you g-got?"

He coughed again, waiting for her to come forward.