Training, training and more training. So far his summer was shaping up to be a blur of sparring, form practice and spending longer than he really wanted shooting increasingly harder targets with bows and crossbows. He hated those particularly, but if wanted to increase his options and range, he had to just forge through.

At least today he was getting a chance to kill three birds with one stone. Get in a bit more weapon and hand to hand practice, throwing a bit of power training in all wrapped up in hanging out with Devon. He was a good laugh, their dynamic was pretty give and take, thank god for that. So many people here, even as friends, couldn't deal with a bit of friendly abuse or swearing. Well, that and the lad had gotten him the number of a cute lass on the first day they knew each other.

Since he'd gotten here early, Artair had used the time wisely, running through warm ups, going onto of few standard forms with various practice weapons he got his muscles pretty loose and ready. Just in time actually, since a familiar figure had finally wandered in.

Putting a on joking tone, "Ah cannae believe it lad, you keeping me waiting like this. Almost down right rude." Cocking an eyebrow at his friend, "How you doing today then?"

Devon entered stretching his arms out to either side of him and using the hand of the opposite arm to pull it in for a full stretch. Tennis shoes, loose black pants, and a white t-shirt made up his training wardrobe. He had a pair of athletic leggings from a major brand, worn under shorts normally, but the thought of Artair reminded Devon of eyes watching him and the extended modesty he should consider in his attire. Hence, the loose black pants were his choice.

He approached hurriedly, continuing into some leg, back, and core stretches. His brow knit together and he frowned slightly at Artair’s comment but he didn’t say anything. The cocked eyebrow and question drew a response finally, however.

“I’m alright, just a hard morning… I’m sorry to be late but I was working with a couple agents,” Devon sighed as he dropped to the matted floor and spread his legs wide to do toe-touches. “These two kids… Their parents… I-“ He sighed into a sudden chuckle. “Well, I was with a family. Family counseling. One of the children’s eyes started glowing. Night vision at least.”

The frown widened into a smile as he winked an eye, “Imagine if I’d had some terrible story to tell. Wouldn’t you feel like a jerk?” He laughed again before springing to his feet. Rolling his shoulders he took a deep breath, “So powers first or hand to hand?”

Just, just when Devon had been getting him feeling guilty about the joke he pulled a bait and switch. Fair play, he'd gotten the Scot good. "Nicely done lad, made me feel like a wee bit of a tosser for just a moment. But I'll get you back for that one. Trust me." A bit of back and forth was good in a friendship and, in fairness, Artair had messed with him a little over drinks the first time they'd met.

"I'd say hand to hand first honestly. Powers not as taxing on my body so while I'm practicing that I can catch my breath." He'd always found it easy to separate his physical and mental stress and not let them affect each other. So there were some positives to living with pain.

He quickly toweled off the small sweat he'd worked up before, not wanting it to irritate his scars. If he could have gotten away with it he'd work out without a shirt on since the fabric and sweat made the scars itch, but having people stare at them was worse. So he went with a plain black tank top, leaving only the tops of them showing. The rest of his outfit was pure comfort. black shorts and a pair of worn, well used dark blue trainers.

Testing his muscles one last time, he reckoned he was ready. "How you want to do this then? First down or pin?" He was hoping pin, most of his own hand to hand had been armoured wrestling. Very good for when you needed to knock a bigger guy on his back and stop him getting away. Other than that, he had some basic CQC training from his time at the mansion.

>> "Nicely done lad, made me feel like a wee bit of a tosser for just a moment. But I'll get you back for that one. Trust me."

“I bet,” Devon chuckled, the rolling shoulders moving to loosening his neck. It wasn’t hard to pick up that Artair was accustomed to such back and forth between friends. Maybe his friends or family his age – perhaps both – had chided each other in such a way. Being too friendly and sweet did often make others feel uncomfortable, like you were being insincere or had ulterior motives. Devon had heard that before…

He nodded quickly regarding some fisticuffs first. That seemed a wise course of action considering their first run in, they likely trained with their abilities more, and both had at least some martial training. Devon had a feeling though his skills would have an upper hand considering Artair was clearly more accustomed to weaponry.

If Devon had any comment to make of Artair’s scars, then he kept it to himself. There were some things you didn’t ask about unless invited. The only scars Devon sought out he was paid to find and help heal. Of course, scars didn’t heal. They fade, I guess?

>> "How you want to do this then? First down or pin?"

“Pin. Tests a bit more strength and helps prepare us for the need to hold someone should they need to be calmed down or,” Devon shrugged his smile into a straight line, “Temporarily incapacitated.” He nodded slowly, stepped back a few paces, and then slowly nodded down to a bow, all the while keeping his azure eyes on the Scot's darker sapphire.

His body relaxed as he bent slightly at the knee and crouched maybe an inch or two. Devon’s left foot went forward, the appearance that his weight was leaning in there but it wasn’t. Momentum and support were important if you were going to have leverage against your opponent, especially in jujutsu. He held it actually on his right foot though quick movements were anticipated. A controlled breath left him as he awaited Artair’s first action.

Pins it was, always easier for him, he was used to using less 'honourable' looking fighting methods. HEMA could look brutal from the outside, but then again it's based on historical techniques which people used to, well, kill people. That kind of changed how it was used after all, even if it was a sport now. Made it damn useful though, to him at least.

"Sounds good, so far that's the weakest bit of my kit. Usually I just try to knock them out, or break legs at the moment. Little messy for my liking though." He'd prefer not to cripple friends in the event one of them freaked out or got taken control of. Made friendships a little tense after all. Sending a 'I'm Sorry I Broke Your Kneecaps' card just didn't quite undo the breaking of.....kneecaps. Shaking away the odd thoughts and also bowing to Devon, he moved back a couple of steps and followed all of his opponents moves.

Chances are, Devon would beat him, he had more training from the ease of his movements and stances, but Artair wouldn't make it easy. the guy might have a couple inches on him, but the Scot had the wider build, chances are they weighed about the same. This would pretty much come down to skill. Taking a low stance common with wrestling, his right foot forward. It was a pretty balanced form, weight resting evenly across the body and the arms up with the hands loose. It'd hurt like he'll when he got punched, but he could easily grab an arm or leg.

Looks like the guy was waiting for him to take the first move, that could be bad. He didn't know how Devon fought, so he had no clue on what to expect. He had a plan, but it had to look convincing. Charging forward and keeping low, he made it look like he was going for the legs, but he'd surge up at the last second to tackle the midriff.

Opening gambits were always risky, why not go for one that was just that bit riskier.

>> "Sounds good, so far that's the weakest bit of my kit. Usually I just try to knock them out, or break legs at the moment. Little messy for my liking though."

An eyebrow shot up, quirked at the mention of breaking legs. Devon didn’t know if that was straight up Boondock Saints or Scottish Departed. The way he’d seen Artair fight, either was possible. Maybe it was both. He gave a little nod in understanding.

Devon kept his stance, unchanging as Artair eyed him up and then charged forward. While the momentum the Scotsman used was surprising, Devon wasn’t positive the low approach was actually Artair’s plan. It was hard to pin someone if you only had their legs. However, it did make sense to try and topple a larger target. Either way, neither mattered for Devon’s plan.

When his fellow Havenite came close, it was his hands that Devon were watching. They arched up and Devon went to grasp Artair’s leading wrist, whichever was the side he’d stepped from first. Devon’s other arm swooped at that same arm’s elbow, almost rolling into the chop. He let his friend’s momentum hit and used it as he purposely dropped his own weight to swing Artair down with him. While both were going to the mat Devon kept one hand on the wrist, his right shoulder raising to protect his face and one leg encircling to start a core grip. Normally he’d been taught to head butt at such a moment, but that wasn’t this spar.

Also, normally you weren’t supposed to go down with the target. They’d made the mistake of attacking you; they were in the wrong. You used the grip against them and then stopped it. But Devon wasn’t a regular wrestler and Artair had good momentum, so down he went keeping one wrist in attempted brace and eagerly preparing a hold with both his legs around the man’s core.

Yep, he knew Devon would see right through it but apparently he'd had a fair bit of energy behind the charge, at least knocking them both down. Even if the model had the upper hand.

Bucking wildly to stop the legs getting a good grip and trying to get his arm free, he had to admit, the guy was stronger than he looked and had damn strong hands. Artair could tell his friend was a weapon fighter, not many had that kind of strength from hand to hand alone but there was one advantage the Scot had right now. He swung big and heavy weapons about regularly and had a deceptive amount of upper body strength and endurance.

Rather than wrench his arm free, he put up a show of pulling with it, while he got his knees under him and went to try get around the big mans back and grab on with all his might. If he got it right, it made a person really hard to dislodge.

The major issue is while he might be able to get his legs into play, he was already an arm down and while the pain was minor at the moment, at the wrong angle it would get worse.

Of course he might fail completely and just waste energy. That was a distinct possibility.

Devon couldn’t help but grin as Artair made like a bronco to try and shake him off. He managed not to chuckle – probably due to having the breath somewhat knocked out of him – and instead focused on his breath control as he held onto the one wrist. The Scot shook and pulled, but as he planted his knees it was hard to dislodge someone trying to wrap around you when you were already practically hugging them.

Artair tried to pull around Devon and hold onto his back but one hand was already held at the wrist. Devon sent his other forearm into Artair’s neck and shoulder, limiting the other arm’s movement. Maybe he couldn’t swing onto Artair’s back, or get him flat on the ground as he’d normally intended due to the earlier tackle, but at least Devon wasn’t down into the ground. Instead Devon squeezed his legs around Artair’s core and pushed with the right arm harder into the shoulder and neck, hoping to get him to fall back to that side.

It’d be easy to demand a gust of wind to aid his desire. A few errant gusts of sufficient strength could give Tempest the momentum. Something very strong could send anyone flying back. But this wasn’t about his abilities; they weren’t using them. There was always the chance he’d go toe to toe with an Adapted. They had to be prepared…

Devon inhaled deeply, unsure what Artair’s plan was but hoping to make him tumble to his side for a quick pin.

He hadn't really expect that to work and now he was only more trapped than before and Devon was letting go any time soon. Just staying on his knees was taking a lot more effort than was comfortable and his flailing before had only wasted energy, rather than do anything productive. God he needed to get better at hand to hand, if he ran out of energy or over used his power in the field he'd be screwed.

The grips he was in were limiting his movement and he was already being dragged side wards, if he didn't do anything, he'd be pinned pretty quick. As b----- tempting as it was to pull a shield out and starting smacking his friend with it, he wasn't about to cheat to win. They'd both agreed to the terms so Artair was just going to have to deal with it. Rather than use his freeish arm to get at Devon, he went with a different tack and got it under him, ready to push off.

Taking a few deep breaths, all the while fighting agaisnt the holds, he pushed himself up as quickly as possible, dragging the bigger guy with him and preparing to drop back down, if this failed, chances are he'd be pinned quickly. It was a big stupid movement using to much energy but he couldn't see other ways out.

Maybe getting one of his trainers at the mansion to give him some training tips on grappling would be a very good idea.

Artair’s left arm didn’t have much mobility, but sending it down to stabilize his movement wasn’t difficult. Devon wondered what he was up to as he pulled to the side, but it gave the Scot enough to start rising up to his feet. That wasn’t the plan and Devon had to think fast.

While he jerked Artair’s left wrist toward him, he pressed his right hip and groin into Artair’s stomach with a violent motion. Devon’s right forearm jerked into his target’s shoulder, setting the stabilizing hand off balance while the rest of his body continued the shift to Artair’s right. In essence, he used the man’s standing momentum to aid the violent spin shift. Devon grunted loudly, using the breath control and sound to aid his intent.

Down they went and Devon kept his movement going as he pulled back on his left and leaned in with the right. Artair was on his back with a thud and Devon dug his knees into the man’s core. He pulled the left hand in trapped between them and continued to press his right arm into Artair’s shoulder and heck. Devon’s thighs flexed and squeezed as he pressed his chest against the Scottish psionic energy manipulator. He was well aware that if the man summoned a weapon this would be a far different situation.

Blue eyes looked intently into Artair’s darker. Devon didn’t exactly grin, but the tug of a small smile was there. A series of quick breaths left his nostrils and lips. “Pin,” he said quickly.

One minute he'd be standing up right, the next he was tumbling to the floor, pretty hard, and was on his back. Jesus that was fast, had Devon really managed to take his entire weight out by hitting his hand? That was embarrassing, but good to know.

"Fair play lad, you won that pretty convincingly. Mind letting me up now though? As much fun as it is to have you wrapped around me Xavia might get the wrong impression." Wait, did Devon know he was kind of maybe dating someone. Name Xavia. S---. "Not that there's any who should mind, or anything to that effect." Pausing slightly, "You're not going to let me live this down are you?"

Once he'd been released and bounced back up onto his feet, he was feeling pretty good, weirdly. Sure he was a little tired from the exertion but apparently the adrenaline he got from a fight was more than making up for it. "Nice fightin' there Devon, got me pretty good from the get go. Where do you think I went wrong?"

There was never shame in asking for advice when it came to this. Learning to fight would literally save his life, it already had to varying degrees after all and once you've had your a--- handed to you on a daily basis from a sweet little woman, pride went out the window too. Now he was trying to take everything in and fuse it with his power, make it his own and let it balance with his strengths and weaknesses. His power was strong, scary even in a fight but he lacked a vital bit of kit, a dependable, non-lethal take down.

>> “…As much fun as it is to have you wrapped around me Xavia might get the wrong impression."

Devon was a bit flustered anyway, but a little extra rouge rose up in his cheeks. He chuckled and slid off, breathing a few deep breaths before stretching up to his feet. He’d only met Xavia this afternoon but it did make for a funny training session. It seemed both were on each other’s minds.

>> "You're not going to let me live this down are you?"

“If you want, I can summon a cold rain shower for you,” Devon laughed, stretching his legs as he squatted down and then rose up on his toes. But that was a bit awkward, yeah… He’d been a bit fixated on that waitress for Artair and then of course he met Xavia, but now the memory of Artair’s little admittance – bisexuality – came bubbling back up. Scotch was reserved only for full stomachs from now on.

>> “…Where do you think I went wrong?"

“Honestly,” Devon shrugged, a playful smirk on his lips, “You kind of made it easy. Most of my training is all grips, take downs, and pins as well as disarming opponents. The fake out surprised me at the beginning, but I was watching your wrists for where they were going to try and bring you down. Then I used your upward momentum to swing ya down with the force of my own pushing against you.” He paused, “A good idea would have been to actually not been planning to grab me. Instead if you’d gone to grab me but then turned your arm in to hit me with your forearm I would have had trouble grabbing your wrist and gotten that punch to the stomach. Once I was around you, falling forward was probably your best bet instead of standing or trying to dislodge me. And well,” he grimaced, “A head butt from either one of us would have been a surprise.”

He flexed his shoulders and rolled his back with another deep breath. “It’s all jujutsu really. Give me a cane or umbrella and I can fight like Sherlock or the Kingsman movie,” he nodded. “Against anyone with a weapon charging me I’d have had to do things differently. I’m going to step up my training. If you’d pulled a knife with your free hand there at the end, I’d probably be dead.”

Devon chuckled, though certainly it was no joke. At least now the topic had more than shifted, right? “I think with pretty much anyone other than me, you’d have knocked ‘em out fast. I could show you how to anticipate blows to your arm or wrist or to get your weapons from you, away from you,” he nodded. “And the better you get with that, the better to spar with me in improving my blocks and holds. I can’t really rely on punches as I don’t have the strength there.”

Cold shower? He'd been born in a land of wind and rain, snow and ice. The cold was his. "You could try but chances are it'd be down right tropical compared to back home. When you grow up on an island with nothing between you and the Arctic but ocean, cold is a way of life." He got the context though. Some might call it flirting, he just called it banter. Christ Derek got worse and came back swinging.

Nodding along to the words, he took everything in and memorised it, made sure to tuck away all the tips and tricks he was being offered. Artair wasn't the kind of guy to let pride get in the way of learning how to to anything. He'd lost because the other guy was better and had read him like a book. Anything Devon offered where things he could use in the future to stop himself getting killed. "I'll remember that for next time then and don't worry, when you get a Glaswegian kiss from me it will definitely be a surprise." Maybe not the best phrase but by god the reaction would be great. God he loved some of the weird phrases his homeland created.

"That's all good to know, I definitely want to improve. Maybe I can finally get through a fight without either getting myself hurt, or crippling some eejit who thought fighting me's a good idea. But I see your points, I need to work on not telegraphing my moves and being more thoughtful in my approach. Fair to say with some skill behind me I can hit hard, nowt like weapon practice to build the muscles." He was looking forward to the weapon sparring. There was no doubt his friend was more skilled with weapons, but with his versatility and good years of training he wasn't bad himself. Also very few people in his experience knew how to fight someone using a weapon and shield. It was a very nasty combination to go agaisnt if you were only using a one handed weapon of similar reach.

"What now then? I'm up for either weapons or power so this one's your choice. Haven been working on a few things I've wanted to show off so I'm happy with whatever you choose." With a few session practicing he'd managed to work on some interesting uses of his power. Mostly it was just efficiency stuff, but the bow idea and wrapping constructs he was particularly eager to try out.

"What's it to be then lad?"

>> "You could try but chances are it'd be down right tropical compared to back home. When you grow up on an island with nothing between you and the Arctic but ocean, cold is a way of life."

Tempest grinned, a quick glance thrown Artair’s way but nothing more.

But Artair asked for what happened, for pointers and Devon obliged. He was glad Artair took them in good spirit and as constructive criticism. He had asked, after all. Devon’s training was on his side in this after all, but with some more training it could have easily gone either way. Artair was strong, solid, and more closely rooted to the ground. Devon was light, nimble, and relied on using his opponent against himself. That was easier when the target wasn’t trained similarly or not in a common martial art.

Devon was glad too that Artair didn’t want to learn simply to hurt others, but to do better at protecting himself or taking his target down without ‘crippling some eejit.’ And what the heck was a Glawegian kiss? He’d have to look that one up later. Devon nodded about avoiding obvious moves and keeping focus on his approach.

>> "What now then? I'm up for either weapons or power so this one's your choice. Haven been working on a few things I've wanted to show off so I'm happy with whatever you choose." … “What’s it to be then lad?”

“I think we should go slowly through what happened and then maybe a few quick spars. I’ll do the same actions first to show you, and then I’ll give minimal resistance with increasing effort each time. That’ll at least help develop some of the take downs for an initial training,” Devon nodded.

“Computer,” Devon called, “please provide replay…” A video record of their fight appeared on a HUD video screen near them, holographically provided though two dimensional. Devon took his time instructing on the movements he’d used and even a couple times he should have done something different now that he was thinking about it. Ultimately, it would have been better for him not to fall at all or had to wrap himself around Artair.

Twenty minutes and a few take downs later, Devon was having trouble anticipating how Artair would grab him and he’d gotten Devon down with swift strength. A light sweat glistened Devon’s forehead as he laughed, standing up from another pin. “Alright, I think we’re good,” he chuckled. “How about hand to hand next? I’ll use an umbrella with a sword cane. You manifest whatever, though I won’t use my abilities.”

Devon walked over to one wall and said, “Computer. Common black umbrella with sword cane in handle please.”

“Providing…” it said, cycling through the resources stored below. The wall panel opened and there was the umbrella. Devon scooped it up as the panel shut.

“Thank you,” Devon said with a grin. “You try to strike me, preferably with something light and blunted?” he chuckled, walking back over. “I’ll focus on disarming you. This helps me with my ability to dodge and disarm without powers and gives you a chance to plan counters to disarms. How’s that?”

He always forgot about that aspect of the room. Live playback of all his training and fights, oh what joy. He'd get to watch himself getting his a--- handed to him in full 3D. God he hoped Derek couldn't access this, poor lad would have an aneurysm at the sight of them. "Good idea, makes sense to see exactly where I'm going wrong and see how you moved like you did. Gives me a chance to steal a few moves." Artair wasn't one to stubbornly stick to one method of fighting. Any useful technique was taken and folded into his repertoire.

The follow up took a while, and they'd both worked up a fair sweat during it, but he definitely had a better idea of what his tells where, and how to avoid them in the future. Even managed to get one over on Devon, which was immensely satisfying, as the Scot pointedly ignored all his losses. "Aye, think I've got a fair idea what you mean now." Manifest anything? Oh he'd wish he hadn't said that, it was time to go for his old favourite, albeit without the pointed head.

Watching his friend retrieve an umbrella sword, he was struck again with just how damn rich the guy seemed. This was all high end, swanky tech, the kind not just anybody even saw, let alone afford and yet Haven could. It was a big player, even with it's relatively recent founding. It could do so much good. Or so much harm is used wrong.

"Can do, it's a common tactic people try to use on me, when they don't know the full extent of my power." He was basically impossible to disarm, especially when it came to one on one fights. "As for making it there's no need, got one ready for just this." Running over to his bags he pulled out what looked like a bundle of sticks. "Got this through an old H.E.M.A friend." Unlimbering the sticks, it proved to be a collapsible staff. Normally too weak for real fighting, Artair had been working on a neat trick. Once the staff was unfurled and put together, he focused he mind on it, wrapping it in a mental construct, before pushing power into it to make it real.

"How about this? The constructs light enough to not to damage, just holds the staff together, although if need be I can make it stronger." He was pretty proud of this. It basically halved the amount of energy he was using, it's energy upkeep for fairly low compared to full weapons. Only real weakness was it took a fair bit of concentration to keep together, he could only really do it with one large weapon or two smaller ones.

But this did give him an advantage with Devon. He'd seen the guy fight and with a stick, he was more skilled. The only way he could beat him was the fact his training was in pretty hard to deal with weapons, and his power just compounded it. Not many could fight against a skilled spear user, or someone using a shield. Basically when it came to weapon fighting, Artair was trained to cheat.