[ It’s not often she’s up against one of the instructors. In her usual interaction with them, Pyrrha is respectful, polite - nearly deferring. Honoured, occasionally, when lauded by their words of praise. (She’s the Pyrrha Nikos, after all.) To engage one of them in combat is a privilege and she inclines her head, an obeisant gesture meant to indicate such.
And then, with a flick of her wrist, Miló and Akoúo̱ are in her hands. Deftly, she marks the hours with her steps, rounding her opponent. And then, for a first strike, she swings low and sure. ]
[As soon as Pyrrha took up her fighting stance, Kuai shifted into his fighting stance. His eyes just as cold and stony as his nickname implied. His motions were rigid and minimalistic. Once she struck, he lifted his leg just high enough to avoid the blow as icy daggers materialize in his hands, bringing both daggers thrusting downward in an overhead strike.]
[ He fights with ice, she notes. Although having been denied the opportunity to research her opponent beforehand, Pyrrha is observant now. She’s studying the fluidity of his strikes, where his limbs are placed, searching for traces or flecks of metal in his equipment - all while refuting his strikes. Every one of her strikes and parries are graceful; to some, they could easily be confused for perfect. Pyrrha knows better, however. She’s constantly gauging her own performance, successes and fumbles alike.
Miló catches the daggers and a push is all that’s needed to send Kuai’s arms back. She presses the attack almost immediately. Moving like a whirlwind, in half a dance, she's pointedly denying him the opportunity to regroup. ]
[As soon as the shield pushes against the daggers they crumble and evaporate into the air, and with her counter, he brings his arms up to block, a protective layer of ice forming on his arms with jagged hooks forming in an attempt to catch the spear.]
Very impressive, Miss Nikos. It's rare to find someone this in tune with their aura at this young an age.
[As soon as she strikes, he forces one arm down while the other goes up in an attempt to knock her weapon out of her hand before sending a foot shooting outward at her shin with the intent of knocking it out from under her.]
[ He’s almost successful at knocking her xiphos away from her. Almost. At the last moment, Pyrrha’s Semblance erupts. A thin magnetic pulse, invisible to the eye, drives her shortsword back into her hand. The whole movement is fluid, seemingly natural; to the outside eye, all she did was reinforce her grip on the weapon. No one will have seen her nearly lose it.
Skipping back, just so, she dances around his kick and then pushes the line altogether. Like a hurricane, like a force without mercy, Pyrrha rushes him. Each blow is precise, methodical, and lightning quick. ]
[A large shield of ice forms on his arm as she attacks. He does give ground with each hit, sliding an inch or so back, leaving a trail of ice on the ground beneath his feet. After about 30 seconds of being on the defense, the shield explodes outward as he drops to the ground, hitting the ground with both palms, sending a coating of frost over the floor.]
[ Well, if he’s removing all traction from the ground beneath her feet, Pyrrha is left with only one option. Launching herself up, she changes to an airborne attack, coming down hard with rapid strikes - toward any opening he gives her, no matter how slight. ]
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Sounds fab. o/
[ It’s not often she’s up against one of the instructors. In her usual interaction with them, Pyrrha is respectful, polite - nearly deferring. Honoured, occasionally, when lauded by their words of praise. (She’s the Pyrrha Nikos, after all.) To engage one of them in combat is a privilege and she inclines her head, an obeisant gesture meant to indicate such.
And then, with a flick of her wrist, Miló and Akoúo̱ are in her hands. Deftly, she marks the hours with her steps, rounding her opponent. And then, for a first strike, she swings low and sure. ]
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Miló catches the daggers and a push is all that’s needed to send Kuai’s arms back. She presses the attack almost immediately. Moving like a whirlwind, in half a dance, she's pointedly denying him the opportunity to regroup. ]
no subject
Very impressive, Miss Nikos. It's rare to find someone this in tune with their aura at this young an age.
[As soon as she strikes, he forces one arm down while the other goes up in an attempt to knock her weapon out of her hand before sending a foot shooting outward at her shin with the intent of knocking it out from under her.]
no subject
Skipping back, just so, she dances around his kick and then pushes the line altogether. Like a hurricane, like a force without mercy, Pyrrha rushes him. Each blow is precise, methodical, and lightning quick. ]
no subject
no subject