A FIGHTER BY HIS TRADE [P]

[Lyric Shikov]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; height:661px; background-image:url(http://i49.tinypic.com/343n79s.png)] Lyric liked to keep a rigorous schedule. He had done it before the Menagerie, and it did it now. He liked to train the tenderfoots, quite frankly. He would look out for ones that needed some "extra encouraging" during fighting lessons, and take them under his wing. Not to say that he was particularly reliable, or kind about it. In fact, he'd had his fair of Tenderfoots simply lose their tempers with him and his goading. But at least he taught them how to defend themselves, by the end of the day. That evening Lyric wasn't looking for a Tenderfoot, though. He was wanting an honest-to-God fight. Or, if not one of those, the next best thing--training. His fingers itched to be claws. His body ached for the pure ferocity of his mountain lion form. And, after having his injury from the flood healed (it had been a bitch, quite frankly) he wanted to gain the strength back into his left arm. So Lyric asked around for one of his "buddies". The guy had a tiger shift, and Lyric was figuring that he ought to prod the other Carna into a bit of training, as well. It was good to keep them from falling out of practice, he thought. So he eventually found August, and proceeded to drag him to the rocky beach, where they would have plenty of open space. There was still enough light for a little spar. "So, Auggie. The Russian was stretching his arms over his head, loosening up. "I think we should put a bet on this. If you win, pick your price." Lyric was grinning ear-to-ear, quite confidently. "And if I win? You've got to do whatever I say, for a week. Not that that is any different from usual." He turned to face his friend, his tawny eyes glinting.

[August Clark]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; height:537px; background-image:url(http://i49.tinypic.com/2ldj31s.png)] Unfotunately, when the Delta wanted you (no matter the reason) it was always required that you went along with whatever the f--- they wanted. So, it didn't matter that he'd just come off a three night hunting trip, or that he was bone tired, and getting sick as hell because of the ungodly amount of rain that he'd had to deal with; he was expected to go. Ironic really that the Delta had once been a little Tenderfoot who had interrupted one of his favorite past times, the actual killing part...not the shoveling in a snowdrift. The pair of shifters trudged to the rocky beaches, hazel eyes not moving away from him as he stretched there on the beach. He probably should have stretched too, if not for the fact he didn't give a care. The younger man was one of the few that Aug considered a friend, even if their friendship sort of depended on the stash of cigarettes that he had. He took one of those out now, lighting it as he took out the skinning knife he always carried and stuck it into a piece of driftwood. Sparring had been the whole point of this, and he shrugged out of his jacket, laying it out beside the knife. No dirty fighting here, at least on this end. A grin split his weathered face, the cig dangling dangerously. "If I win then you, Comrade, get to be my b---- for the week. Let the tables turn back to a simpler time when I actually had rank over your scrawny ass." He cracked his knuckles, giving no hesitation as he rushed forward, his fist drawn back to try to get the first blow. He aimed low, going for the belly rather than the face. Then he feigned back, chuckling a little bit. "It's a nice change of events, to kick your tail without very many repercussions." He teased, keeping it all very friendly. It could go south if he actually did piss the kid off or press it too far.

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[Lyric Shikov]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; height:661px; background-image:url(http://i49.tinypic.com/343n79s.png)] "You might want to keep that knife, Clark, to keep things fair." Lyric's tone was mockingly serious. He followed August's example, though, shedding his jacket and then proceeding to place both of his KA-Bar's into the same piece of driftwood. Next went the brass-knuckles, which clicked when he dropped them (albeit with care). "Sounds like a deal, comrade--" August's punch was solid. Lyric took it to get a feel for just how hard he hit, and Ly decided that it was hard. His eyes flicked to August as he feigned away, and after a second a smile split his face. Light on his feet, Ly closed the distance between them again--he feigned a blow to the left of August's face, and then popped up with a right for his jaw, following through the motion with his shoulder and body, in an attempt to hit him squarely in the chest with most of his weight. Lyric wanted to throw him off balance. He tempered his strength, however--he didn't want to break his "comrade's" jaw, did he? "Lets see what you got, Auggie." His tone was playful, almost goading. But Lyric was still smiling--he wasn't taking the spar too seriously, obviously. It was all fun and games. Until someone starts to bleed, he reminded himself. And then its hilarious. He couldn't help the cliche thought. He was in a good mood. It had been too long since he'd had a spar--an actual fight? That had happened only a week ago, and he was still stiff from it. But a fight for the for the pure enjoyment of it? It had been a long time. recap: he feigned a blow to the left and then tried to hit august squarely in the right side of his jaw with his other hand--regardless of if it hit, lyric would have tried to slam into him after that.

[August Clark]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; height:537px; background-image:url(http://i49.tinypic.com/2ldj31s.png)] August laughed, looking over at the puma shift with a playful smirk. "You may be the Delta now, but I remember when you were a measly tenderfoot." He shot back, feeling a bit like they were school yard bullies about to face off. If you could call the dome a school, and well...the Carna were certainly the bullies. His first throw seemed to go smoothly, which made him cocky that this was going be relatively easy. Position didn't make you a better fighter, though if he had the guts to take on Lovely well...that was more than August had to say for himself. He preferred to stay out of everyone's way, and make his own path as much as he could. The tatted hunter fell for the first counter, a feign and blow to his face that should have made him see stars. The kid had a good right hook, but August had been in enough bar fights that it wasn't as effective as it could have been. It would certainly be one hell of a headache later though. He smirked at the idea of having the Delta hunt him down some cold rags for that later. Lyric slammed into him, causing the hunter to grunt in effort, grappling with him for a moment before he lost his balance in the sand and fell. They rolled, quite dramatically in fact through the sand, until his back hit the sand hard. He wheezed out a laugh, tasting blood in his mouth that he hadn't quite felt before, running his tongue of his teeth. "That all you've got, comrade? I knew Russians were weak but, come on!" He goaded, the shift taking over him. Fur seemed to appear from every pore, the shift instant and painless.

wat even is this crap D<

[Lyric Shikov]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; height:661px; background-image:url(http://i49.tinypic.com/343n79s.png)] Lyric's reply was a jagged smile. He guessed that the change of rank from Tenderfoot to Delta wasn't a typical one, but it was a jump that Ly had taken, and he would happily flaunt that fact in August's face whenever given the opportunity. "Daydreaming about the past won't get you anywhere." He said this smugly, as his fist cracked against August's jaw, and the two of them proceeded to clash--first standing, and then on the ground as August's balance gave way. There was some tumbling and grappling, but then August rippled out of his human body and into his animal one. Oh shit. Lyric's reaction was instant; he rolled to the side, putting some distance between the two of them, and shifted in the same motion so that when he rose into a crouch, it was as a golden mountain lion. His lips curled back in what could pass as either a strange imitation of a smile, or a snarl. "You just wish it was, comrade." He rolled his shoulders and moved in a semi-circle prowl. Then he proceeded to make a leap at August, not a straight-forward one but... Lyric launched himself nearly vertically, gaining some height before intending to slam down over August's head and shoulders, his paws seeking a "handhold" on one side of the tiger's throat., and another one at the scruff of his neck. If that went as planned Lyric would attempt to drop his body, and all of his weight, into a side-ways roll. ooc: ly jumps up almost vertically (mountain lions are super good jumpers P:) and tries to grab August around the throat/neck when it comes back down, twisting as he goes in an attempt to knock both of them over.