Ready to Rumble [ Vix & Grimm // Training Grounds RP ]

'What are we doing with my life?' The question was posed with no expectation of answer as Ceathrú moved with relatively little aim. His eyes slitted and focused on a middle distance as he pouted at the nothing that was there. His disappointment radiated at the point of empty space until he was certain his point was made. He didn't appreciate being neglected. Considering the only event that had felt significant to him had been the strange event held by Yumi and Dios, he felt his god had most definitely been neglecting him.

Well, at least it had given him the memory of Alistair to dwell on. Handsome creature that the other blob was, Cea found himself thinking about their brief encounter from time to time. However, as the numbers counted onward Ceathrú became more convinced the initial attraction would likely amount to nothing and fade away. 'After all' he thought while sliding along into the arena, 'with the size of the world and number of blobs, what were the odds of them running into each other again. Probab..ly-' Ceathrú's eyes went wide in disbelief as he rounded a corner into one of the arena's training spaces to find the subject of his thoughts just... there. He swiftly reversed back out of sight.

"Seriously? That's just cliché." In spite of the quietly and angrily hissed words the feline-naga's eyes peeked from around the corner and were on Alistair's seemingly meditative form with undeniable interest. At least until his green faelight floated close and he shot it a glare and quietly hissed, "Just because I wanted-... it doesn't mean I wanted-... shut up."

He swatted the green light away and silently grumbled to himself with a petulant vigor as he pulled himself away from the wall. A deep unnecessary breath to center himself and he was off. Casually, he wandered in the other blob's direction. Sliding close he hesitated. The other blob did seem rather focused... maybe he shouldn't bother him and just-

"Is this what passes for training here?" The words spilled out and Ceathrú only hoped it wouldn't make a complete mess of things.

(WC: 358)

Oh. "Yeah," Ceathrú acknowledged the greeting less eloquently than he'd have liked in his surprise. "Good to see you again too." He had apparently forgotten Alistair's voice. Or perhaps it was the tone? He couldn't recall if the other blob had used that inflection in their last meeting, but damn. The way the other blob said his name, a pleasure indeed. His brows shot up at the other blob's suggestion.

Punch him? He looked over the target he was presented with, gaze both skeptical and appreciating. Shouldn't he at least... block? Or something? What did Ceathrú even actually know about training? Maybe this really was the way to do it? And as Alistair looked at him expectantly he caved, "Sure then, we'll try it your way first I guess."


He had never actually thrown a punch before, but he wasn't about to admit that. Looking as casual as ever he rolled his shoulder and shook out his arm. Fingers curled into a fist- that felt natural enough. He tested the grip by punching his other hand first. A satisfying smack. Yeah, he had this. Giving the other blob a smirk, he asked rhetorically, "You ready?" Arm wound back, he launched his fist towards the other blob.

A flurry of emotions came on far too quickly for Ceathrú to make sense of any of them. It stopped his fist before it made contact. His eyes shot up from the fist, which hovered at the center of Alistair's chest, to the other blob's eyes nearly sheepishly. Quickly grinning to cover his embarrassment he verbally jabbed, "Made you flinch." This statement was punctuated with a blow as his other hand came around and completed the task this time. Landing solidly on Alistair's torso a bit lower and to the side of his original attack.

(WC 301)

 Ceathrú felt rather optimistic about that exchange. It seemed to have gone well. At least Alistair seemed satisfied with the result. His confidence, which had been bolstered by the solid hit was only reinforced at the light laughter from Alistair. Charming. Ceathrú covered the thought with a roguish smirk and crossed his arms across his chest while he waited for the other blob to collect himself.

The smirk became slightly strained at the suggestion that Alistair proves the authenticity of his method further by way of switching roles. Cea hesitated. Alistair had taken the blow fairly easily. It didn't look like it was all that hard to do. All he had to do was brace himself and what? Take a hit? He could certainly do that much. Right?

"Eh sure, why not?" The smirk shifted into a grin as he felt certain this would be fine. It was just training after all. What was the worst that could happen? It's not like Alistair was out for blood anyway. 

A distant string of logic whispered faintly that Alistair had been here training. Meanwhile, he himself hadn't trained a single number of his entire life. That particular bit of logic... went largely unnoticed. The doubt associated with it however, lingered. That doubt had Cea coil his tail up behind him in order to help brace any impacts he might suffer. After a second thought he also brought his arms up defensively. He couldn't explain why he felt the need. Alistair hadn't and had faired just fine after all. He wasn't even sure how he'd block if it were needed anyway. Though, he wasn't one to resist his instincts and much like when he was making the fist, it felt natural. 

"Well then, let's see what you got." He prompted with a decidedly feline-like grin as he tensed up for the hit.

(WC: 309)

Ceathrú found that he had to agree. The waiting part was both nerve racking and challenging in it's own right. It didn't help that he felt as though he had forgotten something. Some important. The feeling only continued to grow as he listened intently to Alistair's instruction. Focused. Tensed. It was fairly uncomplicated and he followed along easily enough as he absently nodded his understanding. He was sure he was as ready as he would ever be. And yet, the nagging feeling lingered even as Alistair's fist shot towards him.

The impact was twofold.

At the same time Alistair's fist hit, Cea realized what exactly it was he'd failed to consider. While he could attest that Alistair's torso was indeed finely crafted and of a smooth texture, Alistair's fists were sharper. But now it was entirely too late to back out or have second thoughts.

It all happened quickly. Taut flesh bowed on impact. It both knocked him back and forced blood into his mouth. His tail had at least saved him from being laid out on his back, but as pain blossomed in full, he found himself doubled over forward instead. Braced up on one hand he looked down at the small splattering of the purple and red that had escaped his mouth.

'Well that doesn't belong there.' 

The overt nature of the observation brought a short delirious bark of laughter from Cea that turned abruptly into a wheeze. "Ouch." The hand that wasn't supporting his weight was already pressing against the wound. Pulling it away from his body revealed four slashes. It seemed the back end of Alistair's claw-like gems had torn flesh. They weren't deep enough to cause concern, but they certainly stung. 

"Ow" The naga reiterated almost accusingly at the cuts. Even as the bleeding slowed he frowned like they had personally insulted him. This was stupid, why had he ever thought this was a good idea? He cast his glare up at the smokey haired blob. 

Ah. Right. That was why.

The glare shifted into a pout as he looked away. "I guess I took it too easy on you, but you really should show some restraint." Cea muttered in a small attempt to save face. Then gesturing at the mess to get the focus off of himself added casually, "You going to take responsibility for all this?"

(WC 393)