Welcome to Gaia! ::

The teen stood in the middle of the worn, patched up boxing ring as she waited for the first of her new trainees to arrive. She was excited, and maybe even a little nervous. Not of the meeting so many new faces, not even the potential for violence that came with the type of training she'd be putting them through, but because of what was at stack. This was her baby, her master plan. Surely someone higher in the ranks was watching her, analysis her, and she was fairly certain that person was General-King Zinkenite.

It was make or break time, and she was determined to shine. Po was not content be just another name and rank within the negaverse, she would climb, and she conquer, and she would make herself known. Through one way or another.

So here she stood, dressed as one would expect for the gym, with knuckles and wrists wrapped professionally. She had her arms folded under her chest, and sterling eyes kept flicking up to the old clock on the wall before returning to the glass door she could just barely see through lobby. It wasn't yet 10:00, but it was close.

Bells tinkled softly as the door opened, and the heavy, mechanical click of the wall clock coincided and blended together at precisely 10:00, and Porsha watched with a mingling of eager anticipation and nerves as the woman approached the ring. The gym was mostly empty at this time of the morning, the regulars all at work or not yet awake. The tall blonde at the edge of the ring had to be: "Stroud."

Porsha stepped back away from the robes, retreating to one of the corners before turning to wait for the other woman to join her. "I thought we'd start by gauging where you're at skill wise and go from there. You said you've got some training?" She bent to retrieve a pair of flat pad mitts, then took her time pulling them on, eyes on the taller woman. "Show me."

She was younger then her student, and perhaps that should have left the teen feeling inadequate, but Porsha had been playing tutor for years now. Within her gym she was the unofficial boxing coach. A resource the regulars had been taking advantage of for as long as she'd been there. Age meant nothing, not in the face of such ambition and drive.

Porsha did informal very well. It was sort of her thing. It made for an interesting learning experience for all those that had signed up for her little combat boot-camp. But she wasn't a drill sergeant, and although she expected those that signed up for training to listen, she in no way considered herself their superior.

Stroud sank comfortably into a ready stance, and Porsha was pleased to see the focus, the proper breathing. It had her nodding in approval as she took a balanced stance near the side of the ring, feet apart and planted, hands up and ready. "Start slow, then increase your speed. I want to see where you're at so we can work on advancing."

This should be fun. Stroud looked serious, and it was more then obvious that she'd had some measure of training.

Po had expected a slow start. For them to build up into more skilled and powerful blows as they got into it. She had not been expecting the kick, and iit came as a pleasant surprise. A jerk of her arm let her catch Stroud's heel with the pad of her glove, and she lead that foot down in an easy arc at the woman's side. It was showy, but if this had been a real combat situation, she was pretty sure whomever Stroud was up against wouldn't expect a flying kick to the face. "Nice shot! And great aim and form."

There was something fully rewarding over going up against someone that could hold their own, and Stroud definitely showed promise on that front.

"Alright, keep it coming." She held her gloves up again, palms out and ready. "No holding back either." Not that she expected the other woman had done anything of the sort with that kick, but she wanted to n** that potential issue in the bud preemptively.

The teen was still grinning as Stroud swept aside her arm, but it faltered as a hand came for her neck. She was expecting a hit, and she tensed for one, but what came something else entirely. It pulled her off balance, made her grab for the surrounding ropes to keep herself on her feet. That was different! Certainly something the other woman had taken away from more extensive training in her chosen field of martial arts. It earned her a widening silver eyes, lips pursed to show she was impressed as she straightened back up and pulled the training gloves off her hands.

"I think it's safe to say you have a pretty good handle on combat as a whole," she began, shaking her fingers out at her sides before closing her hands into loose fists and sliding one foot back along the mat for balance. "I don't think I have to worry too much about accidentally hurting you in a controlled setting. So how about we move along to something a little more hands on."

If anything, It was Po who was going to have to really focus. "I expect you to come at me as you would an actual enemy." A grin slid along painted lips, eager and excited.

Not only skilled, but smart as well. It was a potent combination, one that bred grand soldiers. Porsha nodded as Stroud lay out her weakness, appreciating the woman's willingness to learn, to grow, to improve. It was admirable, and it would, hopefully, make things move along smoothly.

The teen was ready with Stroud started forward, and as that foot came up to aim a kick to her ribs she wrapped her hands around that slim ankle, yanking her forward, jerking her off balance and doing everything she could to close that safe distance. If it was closeness she needed to work on, then that was what Po would exploit.

She turned her body. Dropping her elbow and angling it up for a blow to the sternum, but her other hand was there before the hit could connect. It pressed into Stroud's lower chest, cushioned the impact. "When you shield has been breached and they've closed in, it will be your ability to recover to will save you. Either by turning their own attacks against them, or by taking the blow, absorbing it, and moving on."

Adapting was the root to successful self defense and offensive maneuvering. Stroud proved her ability to react to an unexpected turn of events by dropping down and sweeping her foot up against the other woman's legs. It was effective, inventive, and If the younger of the two had seen it coming she still allowed it to hit. Very few soldiers in their secret war had real training. They were brawlers at best, learning as they progressed. In any normal situation Stroud's kick would connect, and that was what Porsha was aiming to train for. So that strong foot collided with her hamstring and rear, sending her forward, and Porsha used that force to drop to a knee, turning her upper body as she fell to lay the length of her arm across the other woman's neck.

But this wasn't real, and she the teen was in control. She landed, but her arm didn't crush that lovely throat beneath it. She arched her arm, creating a gap, and smiled.

"You'll want to be careful with defensive strikes that bring your opponent closer. Some will just fall, while others will turn the fall itself into an attack." After a handful of seconds she sat back, balancing on one knee and the ball of the opposite foot. "As for core blows, that is something you'll have to train hard to over come. An effective blow to the chest or stomach can steal your breath and stun you, make you panic and leaving you vulnerable, but if you can learn to take the blow and function through it then you can get the upper hand. No one expects a solid hit from someone they've just knocked the wind out of."

Silver eyes narrowed as the woman picked herself up. A note of respect, or appreciation, some considering expression that was hard to read flitting across pale features. Stroud was strong, and smart, and she had little doubt the woman would excel in anything you turned her mind towards, and that included filling what gaps she perceived in her own defensive and offensive strategies.

Her question received a nod of her head, Porsha already settled into an expectant crouch.