Bloody Constraint [Melee Training; Fringers, Eclipse]

[Aran Finn]

Lake Verino, Ascension​

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|@[member="Carré Inirial"] @[member="Jared Ovmar"] @[member="Kitt Solo"] @[member="Morna Imura"] @[member="Rave Merrill"] @[member="Penumbra"] @[member="Andreas Wintergreen"] @[member="Phedre Parenthis"]|​

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Why were they here, amongst the bitter, unrelenting cold of Ascension's tundra? Na'Varro had his reasons, and they were several. Firstly, Lake Verino held every element that one could take advantage of to win a fight, or lose it. It was winter, so the water was covered in an extremely thick sheet of ice. Every inch of the lake was destructible if one possessed the requisite level of power, and surrounding the lake on all sides were large stones and mountains of varying sizes and heights. Using the environment was a huge advantage in any duelists tool kit. Secondly, Ascension was away from the Fringe and away from their enemies. They would be at peace her, able to train without interruption. And who would dare challenge this collection of Masters and Knights? Thirdly, and somewhat selfishly, Na'Varro loved his homeworld. It was his desire to make this place Fringe space one day, and he took pride in showing its beauty.

It was in the early morning hours that Na'Varro awoke, before sunlight, dressing in his winter furs and heading down to the surface of the lake. It was there that they would begin their training ... Na'Varro had a lot of accumulated knowledge that he hoped would be of help to his allies. Today would be rough, full of bumps and bruises and wounds, but it would be worth it in the long run.

 

[Garza]

I smiled. I had given a lesson to the man who was teaching me now today. Looks like what you give out comes back to you. I carried with me a lightsaber, my sword, and two daggers. That was, I always carried the chain whip with me as well. Dressed in a leather jacket, pants, and combat boots, I let the shirt at home. Even in this cold planet, I was warmer than everyone here. Well that was partial to my shaping powers.

At the surface of the lake I waited for @[member="Alen Na'Varro"] to come and teach the people that would soon be joining me in melee and hand to hand combat. Preferably I wanted to learn a lightsaber form that provided good protection while allowed me to attack as well. Smoking a Kolto cigarette as I stood on the lake that was frozen over.

 

[Aedan Miles]

Aedan Miles strode out onto the lake crouching lightly resting his hand on the ice as he closed his eyes and took a moment to meditate. He probably wasn't the first one here but he had only heard about the training not to long ago. He had rushed here in his fighter with his weapons and armor in a backpack. Upon arriving he had vaulted out of the cockpit and pulled on his Iron Skin and clipped on his shoto, lightsaber, and saberstaff. He was interested in practicing the methods he had picked up from the holocron traded to him by a certain friend. It had held the teachings of Djem So and he was going to master them as if his life depended on it.

 

[Peyton Steele]

Peyton Steele wasn’t really one for melee combat. Nope. She had her beloved rifle, and a side arm. What she would do is shoot, and run, and shoot, and run. Really, if it came to it, she could probably adapt to a fight, her father had taught her the basics. But until that point? She would keep on doing what she was doing. Besides, a nice shot from her rifle would put most beings down, unless they had some crazy armor on.

And in the cold like this? It’d hurt, sting, bleed, all sorts of fun. Peyton was actually surprised she decided to make the trip on her own. Her Headhunter was starting to fail, she would need to discuss a raise with @Alen Na’Varro. Until then, though, she was going to observe the combat. She had her winter weather coat on, and her rifle with her. Really, she hoped to just observe. She wasn’t going to go toe to toe with some Forcers, nope.

 

[Antera]

The chiss had arrived dressed for the climate, with a warm hooded jacket, thick boots, and winter pants.

This place kinda reminds me of Csilla. Wonder if I'll ever head out that way again.

She gave a slight wave as she approached the group. She wasn't terribly familiar with anyone here, but an offer to train was an offer to train. Besides, what better way was there to learn about someone than putting them on the business end of a sword? She nodded her head as she reached the others, "Nice day, isn't it?"

Oddly enough, she didn't seem to be carrying a lightsaber. A pistol rested on her hip and a long, narrow-bladed vibrosword was slung at an angle over her back.

 

[Bloodknight]

@[member="Antera"]
"Depends..."
Said the bounty hunter to the chiss.
Garbed in little more than pure white surgrip boots and combat gloves and a navy blue hooded armorweave bodyglove, Andreas stood with the group with his hands clenched at his side. A man wearing what he was on a planet like this would surely have about five minutes to live, but Andreas was no mere man. He was part Diathim and his genes granted him immunity to the freezing cold of the vacuum of space. This? He didn't even feel it. He looked to @[member=Morna Imura] who was also thinly garbed and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Maybe he just had a high body temperature or something because he didn't look like any Diathim to him.

 

[Carré Inirial]

It was peculiar, she mused silently, boots making the softest of noises on the icy path, that she'd volunteered to take part in the training session when Alen had proposed it. But she'd lain dormant with her abilities for too long, and such a training session could only serve to shake the remaining rust from her powers. Clad in white leathers from head to toe, she almost blended into the environment, save for the cascade of raven curls that spilled down her back.

With that said, it was also a tactical decision. Knowing the strengths and weaknesses of one's allies was knowledge worth having. That had been instilled in her long before she'd even become a Sith. There was much in the upper echelons of society that paralleled the way power ebbed and flowed in organizations like the Fringe.

Gloved fingers smoothed her short jacket into place, before brushing carefully over the hilts tucked into their customary thigh sheaths. She spared a thought for Dissero as she approached the others, likely deep into his work in the forge as he usually was. Carré offered a smile and a nod to each of those already assembled by way of greeting as she knew none of them well enough to greet by name just yet. Such was the price she payed for spending the majority of her time away from the daily workings of the Fringe and its associates.

 

[Kassandra Distorith]

Sea green eyes cast across those assembled as she approached, setting down a small duffle bag. It contained the bare bones of her weapons collection and a medkit that she never went anywhere without - those pieces she carried and used on missions most often. Phedre was curious to see how they'd perform in such bitterly cold conditions, and hoped to have the chance to test some of them out.

She spared a smile for Alen and moved to stand by Peyton, setting her bag down on an outcropping of rock. There was a peculiar cord wrapped around her waist over her winter gear, looking for all the world like a strange belt, and thigh holsters with a matched pair of DC-15s blasters secured within. There was a sword hilt peeking up over one shoulder through her riot of blonde curls, a gift from her mother, that she'd trained with for the last several years. It was foolish to carry only ranged weapons to a melee fight where there would be Force users lurking.

 

[Velok the Younger]

Perhaps it stemmed from her time in the Sith academy in her early teens, perhaps from her tutelage under Serrena, under Valkner, under women who'd made her feel like a child. Perhaps it came from the bruises and broken blood vessels that had started to reflect her growing power in the Dathomiri arts -- after all, the only hot Nightsister was a weak Nightsister. Perhaps it was just that she'd slept poorly and eaten breakfast despite an upset stomach, and the food hadn't helped.

Whatever the reason, these women made her feel plain. Two blondes, a brunette, a Chiss, all pretty well coiffed, most of them more generously endowed than the lean alchemist. And they all had great hair.

All Rave had was a set of Force-granted bruises, what felt like a quarter inch of ever-present forge soot, and two alchemical long knives. Plenty of Fringers carried the same knives, the Derriphan's Eye model. She'd made them, all of them. So that was something.

Grumpiness, the Nightsister reflected, was a path to the Dark Side.

 

[Arage Bao]

Right after the powerful, but plain looking Nightsister enter... Jared Ovmar, Lord of the Fringe and a dozen other nicknames and titles; that nobody bothers to remember. Because who cares about that. Looking around he saw a couple of decent looking faces, not as beautiful as himself of course. A finely chiseled chin, that spells the letters M.A.N and cold blue penetrating eyes that could reach into your soul by just one glance. A straight back with his powerf-- well you are getting the picture.

Not that Jared ever cared about such trivialities as good looks, being competent at your job was far more important... of course.

Gracefully he strode over to Rave and placed himself next to her. Simply because he had no clue, who the rest of these people were. Well except Morna of course, but who wants to stand next to a bare-chested man on fire?

"Rave, looking exquisite as ever."

 

[Kitt Solo]

On this occasion, the fellow Fringe council member shared @[member="Rave Merrill"]'s disposition, just like her age. Micro-spiked overlays to her shoes clicked across the icy surface of the lake. She was clad in very plain, comfortable clothes that would dry quickly and allow her flexibility in a fight. Burnt-chestnut strands of hair remained pinned back beneath a simple white-beanie. A slightly bruised and cut-up face, remnants from a shock-boxing match with @[member="Doc"] earlier in the week, silently observed the others.



Boy, boy, girl, girl, boy, girl, girl, girl, Jared.



She nodded to her short time mentor, sliding in on the other side of Rave. She tried not to let her gaze linger on @[member="Alen Na'Varro"] for more than was professional. If only she had a private moment with him…



Attention snapped to @[member="Jared Ovmar"]'s comment and she took a sip of the to-go coffee cup in her thinly-gloved hands. “I don’t know whether you’re hoping she’ll go easy on you with comments like that before a fight, or if you’re trying to get her to beat the crap out of you.”



Coffee did wonders to warm the body, not to mention the small amount of liquid courage mixed inside.

 

[Lucianus Adair]

Though he made use of everything within and without of him to a decidedly advantageous lean when faced with an opponent, Adair did not have the habit of thinking himself at the absolute height of his ability. That is, to say, there was always room for improvement, and Na'Varro appeared to be a worthy opponent and ally to gain knowledge from. Furthermore, always room for a solid Eclipse presence as per his observance upon joining the rest of those electing to take part in this class on melee combat.

Hearing the commentary from @[member="Jared Ovmar"], directed at @[member="Rave Merrill"] as he came in... well, the Sith knight marked Ovmar as a man that needed very painful lessons in consent, etiquette, and protocol. He had worked directly with Rave once, and indirectly a time prior to that, and he held a certain level of respect for the young woman, whose particular skills were apparent and of some interest to him. He was ready give the Lord of the Fringe a bold rebuke when @[member="Kitt Solo"] stepped in with her own flavour of commentary. Silently, with a mild half of a smirk, the dark-haired knight settled into place on the other side of Solo. He did glance briefly at Merrill with his decisive, icy blue eyes, but said precisely nothing, as those eyes tracked over Solo and across to @[member="Alen Na'Varro"], awaiting the commencement of the lesson.

 

[Aran Finn]

"Alright, children! Gather round.." Alen appeared from behind the group, bare head appearing strong amongst the freezing cold of morning. If there was anything you could say about Ascension, it would be that it was a damn cold planet. Out here in the tundra, it looked like hell had frozen over. Na'Varro noticed a high collection of Masters, Knights and skilled non-Force users amongst the group and grinned. They'd be heading into advanced territory today. "It's good to see you all. Hopefully you all pick a few things up today. Now."

Noticing @[member="Kitt Solo"] among the crowd, he smiled and noted her bruised face and functional training attire. You scrub up nice, he joked telepathically ... then got back to business. There was a lot of work to be done today.

"About eight hundred years ago, in the first month or so of me becoming a fully-fledged Templar of my order, I encountered a Jedi Master on Coruscant. We scrapped for what felt like hours, and the guy was strong. Slowly, but surely, he was kicking the crap out of me. Faster, stronger, uglier ... anyway, somehow our weapons go flying out of our hands and down through the sky to who knows where. So, the Jedi Master, big muscly guy, immediately throws a tornado kick at me. Technically perfect, beautiful to look at, devastatingly powerful ... well, it would have been, if it had ever actually landed. Instead of standing around waiting for him to hit me, I did what any practical fighter would do and stepped in while he was winding up, then sucker-punched him in the bean bags. The guy dropped from the air like a sack of pallies, I was laughing so hard I couldn't finish him off." Alen looked around at the group, gauging their reactions. "My point is, technique is only worth a damn when it's correctly applied. And application is only made more effective when complemented by good technique. You can't have one without the other Now with that in mind..."

The Dark Jedi Master started mentally sorting all of his charges into suitable pairings ... sparring partners. Nothing was more important than finding a challenging one, the nastier the better.

"I'm going to be splitting you into pairs, and you'll be sparring with each other. Hand-to-hand, no Forcing, no shaping, no weapons. Just go hard with hands, feet, elbows, knees and whatever. This is going to give me a good indication of how you fight, I'll be coaching when necessary. Then we'll get back together and work on techniques, weapons, and doing some Q&A. Alright, so ..." Na'Varro folded his arms. "@[member="Rave Merrill"], you're with Solo. @[member="Jared Ovmar"] goes with @[member="Morna Imura"]. @[member="Andreas Wintergreen"], could you give @[member="Aedan Miles"] a helping hand? @[member="Carré Inirial"] is with @[member="Antera"], @[member="Phedre Parenthis"] with @[member="Peyton Steele"]. And @[member="Lucianus Adair"], you're with me."

"Please begin, I'll tell you when to stop."

OOC: When sparring with your partner, please provide very specific imagery. i.e. I want to know what each arm is doing, where your feet are, from what angle your attack is coming from, where your balance is weighted, what your intention is ... basically, anything that helps me and your partner see what you're doing in our mind's eye. Visualisation is extremely important.

Posting order is loose for now, I'll monitor things and call it to a halt when I've seen enough. Cheers

 

[Antera]

@[member="Carré Inirial"] @[member="Alen Na'Varro"]

Antera's brow furrowed slightly at the mention of hand to hand. She had been given some training in such fighting styles, but they hadn't been employed nearly as often as her other skills.

Well, if I'm going to get kicked in the head, better a sparring match than when someone's trying to kill me.

She turned to her designated opponent and gave the other woman a slight nod, "Guess it's you and me then. You ready?"

She moved to a clear bit of tundra as she spoke, getting a comfortable distance from the others and shedding her weapons before shifting her feet shoulder width apart and bending her knees slightly. She raised both arms slightly in front of herself and kept her weight centered. It didn't appear that she was going to make the first move, but she attempted to position herself to respond freely to whatever movement her opponent opened with, watching and analyzing.

Of course, she had no idea what her partner was capable of or inclined to attempt. She could only hope her defense could stand against it and reply.

 

[Peyton Steele]

Peyton wasn’t too bothered by being here. Really, she figured she would just be kind of… observing. She did shoot, and run. Also, this part of the world was freezing. She sort of understood Na’Varro’s reasons for still coming to his ancestoral homeworld, but… Well maybe it was that she didn’t have a homeworld, not one to go back to, well, one she cared for at least.

She was using the butt of her rifle as a bit of a crutch and leaning on the weapon, listening to the story about Coruscant. She knew that @Alen Na’Varro was a solid fighterm and could make it through just nearly anything. Still, seeing he wasn’t beyond surviving at all costs, it made Peyton feel a whole lot better about their chances, and what she could pull off with teaching the Eclipse operatives.

And then came the time she was waiting for, to see where people would be fighting one another. Really, she was here to watch, for her own. And then she heard her own name. Blinking slowly, she shot Alen a betrayed look. Right, she could do this. Of course.

Looking to @[member="Phedre Parenthis"], she nodded. “So, fighting, huh?” Right. Could she just shoot now?

 

[Bloodknight]

@[member="Aedan Miles"]
@[member="Alen Na'Varro"]

Andreas listened carefully to what his fellow fringer had to say. It was nothing he hadn't heard or experienced firsthand years ago but he did not come here to learn to fight--he'd already mastered six different martial art forms and was very skilled and experienced with them--he came here to learn about his comrades. Namely how they fought just in case there's a time they're not comrades. Andreas himself did not rely on nut-shots to disable an opponent because of the fact that it is highly unlikely for an unfriendly on the battlefield to not at least have a cup if any sort of armor, but he appreciated Na'Varro's flexibility. He listened to Na'Varro speak his rules and regulations that didn't really apply to him. He didn't bring any weapons besides his own body and no one here looked formidable enough to force him into using the force.
"Try not to embarrass yourself, kid."
The veteran mercenary said to miles as he began pacing around him. He was doing his habitual taunting that he's so infamous for. But it was with reason. He'd like to inspire some sort of dislike of him in the boy so he'd be a little less prone to holding back. Of course if that didn't work, he'd just pummel him to the ground and FORCE him to fight with all his resolve.

 

[Kitt Solo]

@[member="Rave Merrill"]

Great, I get the one that likes to throw out kaggaths like pieces of cake at a party.

She gave Alen one last fleeting look before squaring off with her new dance partner. “Rave,” thumb popped the lid of her coffee cup loose as she lowered it from her lips. Hand shot forward as she threw the hot liquid at Rave’s face with her left hand, stepping in with a swift, right-hook for the fellow councilor’s left ear. Once the cup was released and well on its trajectory path, her left arm snapped back, elbow down to protect her ribs and fist up to protect her bruised-face.

Whelp, there goes the brandy.

 

[Velok the Younger]

Her response to @[member="Jared Ovmar"] would have been biting, incisive, merciless, a propos and thoroughly tasteful. That particular miracle of diatribe was nipped in the bud by Na'varro getting the crowd into pairs, though she was still chuckling at @[member="Kitt Solo"]'s commentary as she paired off with the other spacer. @[member="Lucianus Adair"] got Rave's standard glance -- and one more for the road -- before she doubled down on sparring with Kitt.

Hot caf to the face. Alcohol fumes up the nose. Fist upside the head. Rave staggered back, blinking, her hands coming up. She wiped her face with one forearm quickly. "Oh, it's on."

She settled into the kind of stance that screamed charge me, a back stance, ten percent of her weight on her front foot, the left. She kept her left hand low, right high and across her body, both positions loose and natural. As of yet, she didn't attack.

 

[Stardust Solus Skirae]

stardust apprpached properly drssed with extra padding on her left arm, looking around at the others

 

[Kitt Solo]

@[member="Rave Merrill"]

She didn’t give Rave much time to set-up because her muscles were already in re-coil mode. Her stance shifted into a mirrored set-up to Rave with her legs. However, her arms were already moving. Left hand shot forward into a swift jab as she followed it up with a cross-jab, stepping through with her right, back leg. The first fist swung to pop Rave’s nose and the second to the woman’s left cheekbone.

Game face was on.