What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger and all that crap l Open

Lev had been in a gym before. They were normally large and full of annoying, loud people. Mostly males, though Lev had seen his fair share of females running around on the court. But gyms were beautiful places when they were empty. The sleek, clean floor, the challenging bleachers. It was all such a feat of building skill. It was too bad they were used for sweating and games that Lev would have only called appalling. But this gym was different from the many he had been in before. This one included separate training rooms for practicing powers or even combat skills.

Combat skills! The idea thrilled Lev as he wandered across the large gym toward one such room. Lev had trained in a couple of different styles of martial arts from a personal master but he had never been encouraged to use a weapon or practice with one. It was a smaller room, but it was decently sized for what it required. There was no way he could practice his gift in here, he would need the taller ceiling of the main gym for that. But this room was amazing! It had dummies and punching bags and fake weapons to practice with. There were even a few real ones lining the walls. This was exciting! Lev felt the blood boiling in his body and the adrenaline shoot through his veins. He needed to do some practicing here or he was going to lose his mind.

He had come dressed in casual clothes he owned for this purpose and had his hands in some thick, lightweight gloves made for punching things. His feet had similar glove-like coverings for any foot kicks he managed to do. He was actually fairly skilled at kicking and could almost kick his leg completely vertically. It was something he prided himself on. With sharp, quick movements, Lev tested out the dummies with a few placed punches, his swing a bit weaker than it used to be, but it had been a while since he had punched or kicked.

The day provided bright rays of sun and a warm breeze that moved the tree tops ever so slightly. The sun would go down in a couple hours and start to cool the night, but there was still time left in the day. A black haired student was leaning against a tree, his eyes closed and small breaths escaping his chest. He wore dark jeans and a loose fitting grey shirt, black leather gloves laid on the grass not far from the student's leg.

Riley took in a deep breath and sighed as he opened his eyes. His hands spread against the grass, their leaves wilting at his touch. Once he was up and swiped the gloves off the ground and began to put them on, fingers readjusting to the new feeling of the material. Riley ran a hand threw his hair and he began to walk along the sidewalk.

It wasn't long until he reached a building labeled 'Gym/Training Rooms' "Hmph" Riley pushed open the door and noticed another student punching away at a dummy. Perhaps he could train with his power today... Or at least attempt to. The other students punches were precise and harsh. Riley's hands slipped into his pocket as he approached the student, "Have you been training long?"

Punching and swinging at the dummy, Lev felt the power find its way back into his arms and legs, feeling the rush of the air around them and the freedom of the quick jabs. It felt good to do something quickly and Lev remembered the feeling of flying and nothing beneath his feet. Punching and kicking was like flying for only a few limbs at a time. If only he was better at his power, he would be able to fly anywhere, like that one flying boy in the children's story. He had only ever heard it once but it enthralled him to be relatable to a chldren's tale. Still, he had so much work to do on his power and this room was far too short. Instead he remained where he was, beating the pulp out of the training dummy. If it were a real person, it would be dead from the injuries.

Someone else entered while he was punching through the air, but he didn't stop his movements. In fact, natural instinct kicked in and he got just a bit faster with each move, but this took away some of his precision and he cursed himself for feeling competitive toward someone who he didn't even know.

With a final, swift blow fueled slightly by anger, he sent the dummy a foot or so away from him and turned toward the person who had entered. "Yes. My father has been teaching me since I was old enough to throw a punch." Lev responded, brushing himself off as if he had collected dust from the training session.

Riley pursed his lips, not only was this kid precise in his training but he seemed to be precise in his character and attitude. "Well, you seem very talented." He wasn't bad at punching himself, he tended to get into a lot of fights back home. He didn't focus on the kicks as much considering his power thrived threw his hands and fingers. "I've been training in agility and flexibility recently. Not so much on strength. If you want, we can train together?" It was a simple question, he could either say yes or no. It didn't really matter what answer he gave, in fact Riley would love to be sitting on his couch right now snacking on chips. The autumn student waited patiently for an answer, it would be the first time in a long time since he trained with anyone.

Lev tried his hardest to be polite. He was a rather blunt, straightforward person and when that got through he tended to make enemies. He had been raised by a proper family and intended to be as proper as he could. Which was almost always successful, so getting into an argument didn't seem very likely. Nor did losing his cool. "Please, I would not say that I am talented." Lev responded after reveling in the praise for a few moments. It was rare that his father ever complimented him so when it came to other people complimenting him, he let it happen even if for mere seconds. He was skilled in fighting, that was a known fact. But he was not skilled with his gift and that was the real reason he was here at Beata.

Agility and flexibility were Lev's strong suits. Due to his small size, he was far more agile and flexible than any other boy his age. "I would be more than happy to train with you." A good training with someone else would be well within reason. Lev had only ever trained with his father and Anton Volkov was a far better fighter than Lev ever hoped to be.

A small smile rested on Riley's lips, "Alrighty, I'd just like to warn you of my power. I have pain manipulation, so that means what ever I touch feels instant pain. So I should probably train with my gloves on." Last thing he wanted was a broken kid on the floor in constant pain. He needed to tame his power before using it on anyone. Right now if he would touch someone, pain would simulate through out their entire body. He needed it to where he could touch someone and focus how much pain they would feel and for how long. Riley scowled at the fact he was so bad with his power. This was the reason he came to Beata, so he could actually not kill people by touch. Riley's glazed eyes brightened back up as he looked at the other student, "Name's Riley by the way!"

American's were interesting in the way they spoke. Lev always wondered where slang came from and why it was easier to use than formal speech. Everyone knew formal speech, those taught English spoke formal speech better, why not use it all the time? But the word 'alrighty' was easy enough to guess the origin of, so he let it slide. As long as this person didn't use other slang words Lev didn't know, he would feel mostly comfortable around him. Wait, pain manipulation? The thought of this sent a shiver down Lev's spine. "I appreciate that warning and the use of gloves. I have flight, though I do not know it very well. It would provide an advantage only if I could lift more than an inch off of the ground. But I will refrain harder to make this more fair."

For a moment it seemed as if the boy lost himself in thought. Lev waited patiently, figuring he would either snap out of it soon, or Lev would have to draw his attention back to reality. Luckily, the former was true and the boy even introduced himself. "My name is Lev. It is nice to meet you." Lev said, extending his hand for a formal handshake before they began. He figured Riley was okay with a handshake, since he appeared to be wearing the gloves he was talking about.

Riley grinned at the student before him, "Well it's nice to meet you Lev." He returned the handshake, leather separating the two. Riley strolled over to the training mat and took a readying stance. He didn't have any weapons on him, but if Lev did it could help him train with dodging and blocking.

The autumn student quickly jumped up and down and loosened out. He would have to be speedy if he were to avoid the flying-boys hits. He looked at the blue eyes that stared him down from the other side of the mat. "Let's say we have to hit each other four times. Who ever gets hit four times first loses the match. Sound good?" It would be simple enough, he would try to control his power during his training with out actually using it. Considering Lev was fairly new to his power as well, it would be an even fight.

It was nice to get a firm handshake from someone. Lev had been afraid American's wouldn't know how to properly handshake but Riley seemed to know what he was doing. After the handshake they both moved to the mat. Lev was as ready as he would ever be. Sure, weapons would help Riley dodge and block, but Lev's sharp, fast movements should be enough for that. Being small had its advantages and disadvantages. In a fight it was almost purely advantages.

Lev needed no loosening up. He had been practicing for a good several minutes before Riley had come in and all he did was roll his neck a few times and take a couple of calming, deep breaths. He had been taught by his father to never get worked up by a fight. It was easier to accomplish this than he had originally thought when training, considering a training match was not something he often got angry at. He had discovered that keeping his through an entire match with his father was a real struggle because the man was so much better than him and it frustrated him. But he had trained for years and was mostly able to keep his cool throughout an entire match. One with Riley was going to be no problem. Lev smiled, glad he had found someone alright with taking charge. Sure, Lev loved being in charge himself, but most of the time he ran into people who couldn't make up their minds. "That sounds good." It was fair and would hopefully keep this match short.

Taking a deep breath Lev closed his eyes a second and then opened them, calm stretching across his face. "Ready when you are." He said, using a phrase his father had always used on him. Its purpose was to invoke the other into making the first move since the number one rule his father had taught him was to never make the first move.

Riley interlocked his fingers and stretched out his arms, popping his fingers. He waved his arms by his side and once again took a readying stance. Lev intended for him to make the first move, which wouldn't be a problem, but he still needed to build a strategy before attacking.

Riley began by sprinting a quarter circle before stopping and sprinting back to the middle and coming at Lev. Now this would easily make him vulnerable, but that is where his training would come in handy. Riley began to sprint in zig-zags to make him a harder target. He slide against the ground, like most baseball players do to reach a plate, but his objective was the other student. As soon as he would come close he would quickly grabbed Lev's legs and throw him onto the ground. But this would all be determined as to what Lev would do in the next couple seconds.

It wasn't really intimidating, fighting a bigger student. Lev had fought his father so often in practice that size wasn't an issue. It was that he didn't know his opponents weaknesses or skill level. His father was large, so he was slow and a little clumsy. He had been training for thirty years and Lev for ten. He could guess what might happen based on his fathers lessons, but Lev had no idea who Riley had learned from and thus, was at a heavy disadvantage. But so was Riley.

Lev watched carefully as Riley moved, turning toward the other student with every move he made, making sure his was watching Riley's smallest twitch. It appeared he was trying to evade Lev, though Lev wasn't going to make a hit, there was a slight possibility he would have landed one even with Riley moving the way he was. But instead he watched, waiting for the strike. And then it came. A little unexpected Lev watched Riley slide toward him. Thinking fast he figured Riley was aiming to knock him over, rather than his real intention of grabbing and throwing. Lev shifted his legs out of Riley's impact but was surprised when he felt something grab his leg. In the split second it took for Riley to throw him to the ground Lev made the connection that it was his hand and that he would need out of this quickly.

Curling his hands in a way that the tops hit the mat first, he somersaulted clumsily, yanking his leg out of Riley's grip as best he could. Stumbling slightly, Lev reached his feet and whipped back around, hoping to find Riley standing (his father always said to never hit a man while he's down) before whipping in three sharp shots; shoulder, shoulder, gut; before a quick swipe at his feet, aiming to take him down again. He figured Riley might block the first one or two hits but would be too distracted to notice his footwork. It was the one move that had worked on his father. Granted, once he used it again his dad would see it coming from a mile away. He figured it was still worth a shot on Riley.

A small smile spread across Riley's face as he felt the contact with Lev's legs, he quickly yanked downwards causing the student to fall completely. His head whipped back and watched as Lev somersaulted out of his grip. "Tsk." This was going to be tougher than he predicted.

Riley sprang up and turned around to face Lev who was making his way up as well. Both opponents were at a lost. Riley had no idea how much Lev trained throughout his life, and at the same time Lev didn't know how much Riley had trained. Every time he would look back on it, it sounded cliche, but he did train in a martial arts studio for karate. He trained a total of 8 years but only ever reached his brown belt. Speed, agility, and hand punches were kind of his thing.

Three punches. That's what he counted as Lev quickly jabbed his hand towards Riley. Three dodges. That's what he counted after every jab that came his way. Riley grinned at his attacker, glad he was able to avoid all of the punches. What happened next caught him by surprise. The grin was replaced by a scowl and his head hit the floor. Pain erupted through his body as he felt the hard mat make contact with his head, shoulder, and hip. Riley rolled over and let out a groan. He glanced at Lev and muttered his opponents victory. "One for you, zero for me." He pushed himself up and stretched out his back. That was a hell of a move, it definitely wouldn't be getting him next time.

Quick movements and swift dodges were Lev's specialty. He was very smooth at breaking out of a tough grip since his father's had been legendary. So Riley's provided little issue for the small boy. However, as he rolled to his feet, he silently wondered if it would have counted as a hit though Riley hadn't managed to strike him. There was no show of emotion on Lev's child-like face as he made his next move, watching Riley carefully to get and idea of his skill.

The jabs were naturally fast and with added training they were even faster, but Lev wasn't fighting his father instead he was fighting a faster, swifter opponent. Still, Lev was able to successfully knock Riley clean off his feet, the jabs successfully distracting him. So that was something Lev could use against him. Distract him, take away his focus. Perhaps there were other ways this could be done and Lev could take him out again. Since this was a polite sparing match Lev waited for Riley to regain himself. It was only polite. In any other fight, hitting his opponent while they were down would be advantageous.

Lev nodded at Riley comfirming he understood he had gotten a point. It wasn't a habit of Lev's to talk during a fight but he wasn't with his father and it wasn't going to disrupt his concentration. "You are much faster than I expected." Despite his admiration of Riley's speed, they were still in a fight. Quickly Lev moved toward Riley, straight at him, hopping from foot to foot as if in zigzag. When he reached the other boy he swerved and spun, watching his feet and aiming to face Riley's back. If he succeeded he would aim a couple of sharp knuckle jabs to a few pinpointed locations. Being as rusty as he was, even if the jabs landed, the likelihood of him hitting the exact right location was slim.

Riley only gave Lev a side smile as the compliment filled his ears. He was pretty fast wasn't he? The cocky kid watched at Lev zig zagged towards him. He knew this move well, it was one he preformed in most of his attacks and one he used in the beginning of their fight. His eyes traced Lev as he got closer, when he spun around Riley watched his hands clench and got ready to strike. He wouldn't let the small kid throw him down this time. The springs knuckles came hurling towards Riley who quickly reached out and grabbed Lev's fist. His left hand kept his opponents left fist locked in place while his right hand came extremely fast towards Lev's stomach. His right leg adjusted on the ground in case Lev made a move to knock him over again.

Ooc: I'm so sorry been super busy with school. In school rn

Watching Riley's face, Lev realized that complimenting him might have been a distraction. The look on his face suggested that he liked hearing it, meaning Lev had fed his pride and his confidence. That was a bad move either way. If it filled his pride, he would be thrown off balance if Lev was faster than him and that would make the fight unfair. If it filled his confidence, it would make him more powerful and would thus throw Lev off balance. Lev swore to himself that he would stay silent the rest of this match other than when acknowledging a landed blow. That way he wouldn't risk making the fight unfair in either direction.

Lev gasped as Riley snatched his hand right in the middle of the air. Sure, he had just mentioned how he admired Riley's speed, but Lev's size had always been to his advantage. No one was faster than him. But Lev had been fighting his father and a few friends of his father's all his life, and every man was always far larger than he. Riley wasn't larger than him in the same manner of speaking. Each man had been well built, large Russian men reaching heights of six feet and taller. But Riley was under six feet and his body was still a teenagers body, granted it wasn't flabby or anything of the sort. So Lev was surprised again at Riley's speed, not having calculated this move.

The back shadowing game had been one of his favorite moves because no one larger than him had been able to hit him. But with Riley, he had not only managed to grab him, but also to face him before he had even landed a single blow. This was bad. Lev's shock at this distracted him and, when he finally saw Riley's other hand coming for him, it was almost too late. He lifted his right knee with as much speed as he could muster, hoping to block Riley. But he missed the other boys hand and the fist landed a solid punch to his stomach.

Lev doubled over. Whether Riley let go of him or not, the small Russian boy tightened his body into a ball and fell toward the mat. His stomach was by far his weakest point. His entire torso, really, but his stomach and the region just below it were the most sensitive. His small body was caused by being born early, something that very nearly predicted an early demise. But due to Lev's early fighting spirit, he had managed to live on and, as a result, his father had taught him to fight to make sure he wasn't weak. Still, training his stomach wasn't something that could be done and, as Lev doubled over, he found his stomach protesting breakfast and lunch as he coughed, face toward the mask. They were in the middle of a sparring match, he could do this. Slowly his coughs turned to heaves, but his body didn't move.