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15th roar [ video ]
[ The feed clicks on, and at first, it's dizzying as the view goes up, and down, and up, and down, and up, and down, and up...
Until Strike impatiently snatches the gear away from Pogo the Spoink, holding it steady this time. There seems to be an odd fascination for the pokemon over this kind of display, as a few of Leon's team and most of Yuffie's are assembled to watch, the former relatively more used to it than the latter. The pair themselves are facing off, both in loose training clothes despite the brisk morning, though Yuffie is looking comparatively worse for wear. Apparently, if her whining is anything to go by, mornings don't agree with her.
Leon either doesn't notice or doesn't care, because he beckons her forward anyway. She rushes him fast but halfheartedly, blows that he dodges with the ease of long practice. He clicks his tongue in annoyance. ]
Faster.
[ Yuffie rolls her eyes, but obeys. Her kick flies to Leon's head, and he barely dodges it before more punches and kicks roll in. She's definitely fast, but her heart's still not in it, and while that may not be apparent to the audience, it's certainly apparent to Leon. He barks at her to move faster, smoother. Her strikes are rising in speed and accuracy, but, presumably out of habit, Leon only has mild difficulty blocking them as they come. Judging from the knitting of his brows, this isn't making him any happier. He lets her try to hit him for a few moments before sweeping a leg under her in a neat, precise arc.
She doesn't fall. She just fluidly lets herself tumble, agilely rolling back to her feet in the next instant. They're both still now. She's frowning at him, obviously annoyed. ]
C'mon, Leon, there's no point to this.
The point is to keep you on your toes. You don't have your weapons and you can't teleport out of danger here. You're rusty.
[ The dig makes her tighten her mouth and narrow her eyes. Leon stands this time, and beckons again. Third time's the charm, as it were. ]
I'm not rusty. I'm a ninja—the best one there is!
Then show me.
[ Yuffie surges forward. If she's lost the magic that allowed her to cross a battlefield with a thought, it certainly doesn't show. She's purposely running circles around Leon, strikes never hitting, always deflecting at the last moment to slide into the next movement. She's probably trying to embarrass him if her grin is anything to go by; if he minds, he's not letting anything show. Her body never stops, bending like water. Leon has all but given up on blocking her strikes now, since most of them have come and gone by the time he's raised his arms.
The assault doesn't last longer than a couple of minutes, however—Yuffie's flame quickly fizzles out. As she grinds to a halt in front of him, doubling over with her hands on her knees, Leon's gaze is appreciative. She grins up at him. ]
Not rusty.
...Slightly less rusty than I thought.
[ It's a very mild assessment, but Leon's never been one for pointless niceties. He glances to the side, at Strike, still holding the 'gear. His eyes flash disapprovingly. ]
Turn that off.
[ Strike lowers the camera, giving viewers an abrupt eyeful of long spring grass. ]
Now, again.
What? Again?!
[ The gear is off. ]
[[ ooc: Yuffie used with permission. ♥ ]]
Until Strike impatiently snatches the gear away from Pogo the Spoink, holding it steady this time. There seems to be an odd fascination for the pokemon over this kind of display, as a few of Leon's team and most of Yuffie's are assembled to watch, the former relatively more used to it than the latter. The pair themselves are facing off, both in loose training clothes despite the brisk morning, though Yuffie is looking comparatively worse for wear. Apparently, if her whining is anything to go by, mornings don't agree with her.
Leon either doesn't notice or doesn't care, because he beckons her forward anyway. She rushes him fast but halfheartedly, blows that he dodges with the ease of long practice. He clicks his tongue in annoyance. ]
Faster.
[ Yuffie rolls her eyes, but obeys. Her kick flies to Leon's head, and he barely dodges it before more punches and kicks roll in. She's definitely fast, but her heart's still not in it, and while that may not be apparent to the audience, it's certainly apparent to Leon. He barks at her to move faster, smoother. Her strikes are rising in speed and accuracy, but, presumably out of habit, Leon only has mild difficulty blocking them as they come. Judging from the knitting of his brows, this isn't making him any happier. He lets her try to hit him for a few moments before sweeping a leg under her in a neat, precise arc.
She doesn't fall. She just fluidly lets herself tumble, agilely rolling back to her feet in the next instant. They're both still now. She's frowning at him, obviously annoyed. ]
C'mon, Leon, there's no point to this.
The point is to keep you on your toes. You don't have your weapons and you can't teleport out of danger here. You're rusty.
[ The dig makes her tighten her mouth and narrow her eyes. Leon stands this time, and beckons again. Third time's the charm, as it were. ]
I'm not rusty. I'm a ninja—the best one there is!
Then show me.
[ Yuffie surges forward. If she's lost the magic that allowed her to cross a battlefield with a thought, it certainly doesn't show. She's purposely running circles around Leon, strikes never hitting, always deflecting at the last moment to slide into the next movement. She's probably trying to embarrass him if her grin is anything to go by; if he minds, he's not letting anything show. Her body never stops, bending like water. Leon has all but given up on blocking her strikes now, since most of them have come and gone by the time he's raised his arms.
The assault doesn't last longer than a couple of minutes, however—Yuffie's flame quickly fizzles out. As she grinds to a halt in front of him, doubling over with her hands on her knees, Leon's gaze is appreciative. She grins up at him. ]
Not rusty.
...Slightly less rusty than I thought.
[ It's a very mild assessment, but Leon's never been one for pointless niceties. He glances to the side, at Strike, still holding the 'gear. His eyes flash disapprovingly. ]
Turn that off.
[ Strike lowers the camera, giving viewers an abrupt eyeful of long spring grass. ]
Now, again.
What? Again?!
[ The gear is off. ]
[[ ooc: Yuffie used with permission. ♥ ]]
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All the more reason not to encourage her to get experimental, then.
[ Just trust him on this one, Cecil. ]
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You know, ignore him. You're speaking my language here! Tell me more about knives!
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Maybe I can buy a set here to keep them on hand, for just-in-case emergencies and all that. Although... wait, are we allowed to have weapons, since they took our original ones away...
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--Cecil.
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