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"Sparring? You do realize I use a gun, right?"
It's not that Schuri is against the idea. The fact that the quiet CIC member had approached him and proposed this was an honour that he didn't dare voice, in fear of sounding condescending or the like. Sez didn't just approach anyone with a request-- from what their tall boss had told him, it was even more rare for him to ask for a fight. He wasn't like the runaway princess in their family who would devour the opportunity to throw hands with someone-- Sez was so, very careful about who he crossed swords-- er, hands with.
"I understand," he says. He's staring at the holster on Schuri's leg, his eyes flitting to meet the sharpshooter's amethyst ones for a moment before flitting away again. With one fidgeting hand in his pocket, he continues. "I just thought it would be nice to change fighting partners for a bit."
"Ah," says Schuri. It made sense-- he had seen Bellona in action, and her fighting style was grace, beauty, and deadly all wrapped in one. Sez only had deadly to his fighting style-- the grace wasn't present, instead consumed by the ominous aura that flickered and pulsed from his arm. He had disdain for people who called who dared to call him a monster, though he could objectively conclude that if you didn't know Sez before you saw him fight, you might be thoroughly terrified of him. Heck, even in knowing him, you might develop a fear for him based on what you observed. It was a thought that people could conjure if they didn't care-- didn't have the decency to shrug off that lurking exterior impression and look deeper. Schuri knew he was anything but a monster.
"Do you not want to?" Sez says. He's already got a foot ready to turn away, the fidgeting in his pocket increasing ever-slightly more. Schuri reaches for Sez's wrist, stopping him before his back is turned away from him completely.
"Wait," Schuri says. "I was thinking. Hang on."
Sez waits. He slowly turns back around to face Schuri, as if the contact is warm, drawing him towards where he wants to be.
"What did you have in mind?" He asks. His eyes study Sez seriously. "If we're going to spar I don't know how fair it'd be for us to be pitting our weapons against one another. They're pretty different."
"That's why it'd be good," Sez says. "You never know what kind of enemy you will have to fight, nor can you entirely predict it. They could have a sword, a mace, a knife, a gun, a magic arm." He nods. "It will teach us both."
Schuri is about to formulate a response-- he reaches for his gun, ready to check the amount remaining in the barrel (four, if he remembers correctly), but when his hand brushes against the holster, nothing is there. He blinks, turning to look at his leg and he sees the slightest bit of shadow in his peripherals.
He looks at Sez. His lips are curled into a smile, almost cat-like with mischief. Dangling in the grasp of his outstretched shadow is his pistol. He shakes his head.
"You know, maybe if you decide to change careers you could be a pickpocket. You're pretty good at it."
Sez shakes his head.
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I know you're too good-natured for that." Sez shakes his head again. Schuri holds his hand out, expecting the gun back; but Sez just splits the shadow of his arm so that a vine-like extremity forms from it and shakes Schuri's now-occipied hand.
He bursts out laughing.
"Sparring," the sharpshooter says, "He says he wants to spar with me but really, he's just here to mess with me."
The noise that escapes Sez is like a repressed chuckle, akin to a little hiccup of joy. It is a pleasant noise despite how quiet it was. Paired nicely with the gentle way his eyes crickled with laughter, too. Schuri grins and shakes the vine-like extremity, twirling his wrist so that the shadow wraps around him. He pulls Sez closer with this, one elbow tug away until his fingers are close enough to brush against Sez's knuckles.
"Well? You going to tell me what's on your mind? I'm all yours, champ."
- - -
Turns out, his pistol was never intended to be a part of the sparring-- so he was left with his rifle, loaded with wax bullets, to fight.
"It's going to hurt," Schuri says. "I can attest that a pistol might hurt less, but a rifle will hurt regardless of the bullet type."
He had tried to explain (and advise) against this--no dice. Sez was stubborn about using this session to train, with only the longer gun at his side.
"Don't go easy on me," the taller blond says.
The situation was simple; all Schuri had to do was get his pistol back from Sez so that he had both guns again. At the same time, if Sez snatched his rifle, that would be game over for him. It was a like a game of capture the flag, except, claiming the flag would entail a bit more struggle than a simple tag. Schuri was reluctant to spar with people in the first place because his fighting styles usually weren't very compatible with others, and he also really didn't want to hurt Sez. But he knew better; going easy would be a a dishonour for both of them.
"Ready?" Sez says. Schuri's pistol is behind him, wedged into some branches of a tree he's guarding.
"Ready."
On the count of three, Sez crouches to the ground, ever ready to receive Schuri and block him from retrieving the goal; instead, Schuri bolts backwards, creating as much distance between them as possible.
He runs, runs, runs, as fast as his legs will take him. It's enough to bring them to a lightly forested area; far from his target, where his pistol is.
He can hear Sez's footsteps, far behind him. They're already starting to come too close, he figures, so he takes this moment to aim, fire at the ground of his pursuer. Sez jumps.
It doesn't hit-- Sez's instincts are cat-like, scarily so; it was almost as if he telegraphed the move, was ready for it, and acted without thought to maneuver around it.
He pulls the trigger again; this time he aims for his foot. Sez dodges again but, considering how little time he had to recover from the last shot, he steps back, a little more faulty this time. Then comes another shot, nearly missing his hand. Another one whizzes past his arm, striking his shoulder; it's enough for him to react to the impact of it and he hisses. It takes him a moment to recover from the shock of the impact, and quickly turns to stare at Schuri.
He's gone.
He mutters under his breath, weaving though the trees to find him.
- - -
He figures he would come back to the target location, so that's where Sez decided to camp. He patrols around the parameter, searching the trees to see if Schuri was hiding there, but not straying so far that he wouldn't be able to react if the marksman decided to come out of nowhere and snatch the target.
And then he hears it: a gunshot.
It comes from the west-- he dashes towards there at full speed, heart drumming as his feet step one after the other, dashing and keeping his eyes upwards to search for the source of the sound. It sounded high, from what he recollects-- Schuri had likely climbed a tree and created a lookout point from there. He searched for movement or colour above, being weary to not stop moving or else he'd make a good target for Schuri's sights.
Finally, he sees it; but it's not what he expects.
The rifle is laying on a piece of wood, with some messy contraption of string and his jacket and some other cloth compiled together; it's clear that Schuri had been here, but that was the thing; he wasn't here.
Shit.
He makes his way towards the gun, climbing clumsily; he's about five steps away from it when he hears gunshots again, this time it has less of the menacing echo that the rifle had.
The wax bullet crushes itself against the bark by his hands; when Sez turns to glance quickly, Schuri's wearing a grin, pistol in hand. His hair is plastered to his face, sweat running down his face and his bare shoulders. Sez only realizes that, oh, if Schuri left his jacket there of course he would only be wearing a tank top. Why did he forget that?
"Just gonna stare, loverboy? I've got the pistol and you've lost, so... " He shrugs. "Guess that's a victory for me?" His grin is triumphant.
"Hmph," Sez says, and because Schuri is busy talking he uses his arm to stretch and snatch the dangling rifle, securing it between clawed, shadowy fingers. He drops from his distance up the tree, landing before Schuri. He stands, towering before the marksman.
"You win," he says. The statement hangs there awkwardly, like he hadn't anticipated their fight would end so soon. "It was smart. I really thought you were in the trees."
"You have to be witty when you have long-range weapons, see. And I can keep my cool if there's distance between my foes. It was one of the things that didn't mesh too well with me when I tried other weapons."
Sez tilts his head. "So you always have this upper hand. What if someone closes the distance, then?"
"I'm in trouble, then." Schuri simply laughs. Sez just stares at him like that doesn't suffice for an answer, waiting for him to continue. "...I just don't let that happen. I always take in my surroundings before I head into a fight."
"No knife? No short hand weapon? Just in case...?"
"The guns are heavy enough. I don't want to carry more."
"Hm." Sez walks a little closer-- he slides his hands down Schuri's arms, until his hands find his. Schuri accepts, smiling softly at him. Sez's hands are warm.
"So what if you're in close combat, by surprise," His hands grab Schuri's a little tighter, and he starts walking towards him. Schuri doesn't have much else to go and, Sez's strength is nothing he could just bat away, so he walks backwards, following after the applied pressure.
"Then I'm in trouble," Schuri says, and Sez seems to harden his gaze-- he's known him long enough that this isn't a glare, but rather, the kind of look you'd give your best friend if they were doing something dangerous. Oh.
"That's not good," Sez says applying a little more pressure. Schuri is taking quicker steps now, losing a bit of his footing since Sez was directing him pretty strongly and he wasn't really a professional in walking backwards and all.
Eventually his back hits a tree.
"Fight me more seriously," Sez says, and his tone his low, gaze serious. "Hand to hand combat, this time."
"I did fight you seriously. And won, mind you," he says, and looks at those golden eyes, a grin surfacing on his expression. "You really gonna propose that while you're holding hands with me? What kind of hand-to-hand things you thinking about?" he teases.
Sez falters ever slightly, cheeks warming a little. He looks away and continues.
"I... can teach you."
"Okay," Schuri says, boldness taking over. He pulls Sez closer, breath tickling his ears as he replies, "I'm listening. Teach me, then."