Welcome to Gaia! ::

After relaying the message, the captain put her crystal away and strolled the rooftops to the appropriate location, counting out rhymes on the buildings. Eleven, twelve, Dig and delve;

Patiently was the only way to deal with waiting. Preferably on a rooftop adjacent to the intersection. The traffic and the rhythmic red lights were at least something to pass the time. Along with her pipe. What auric energies didn't tell of more specific location to the lieutenant, the scent of the pipe tobacco hopefully would. "Let's see if we can't impart some importances. You won't be a lieutenant forever."

That much was true for anyone who didn't die. Sooner or later they wised up, or stopped sucking, enough that the powers that were seemed to think something was worth promoting in rank. They'd all be better off if the something included some idea of the point of tactics and being part of an organization. Not just willy-nilly teens-in-tights.

"Flattery has its perks and place, " Schörl lifted an eyebrow, pleasant smile around her pipe stem as she turned to take the Lieutenant in gaze. "Let's talk about ...predators. "

"There are differences in how any predator socializes and how it hunts. We'll start with trophic cascades ...and the reintroduction of wolves to Yellowstone. Do you like wolves?"

"Highly social, hierarchical, efficient. They make enough kills that bears, traditionally considered stronger, 'better' predators, scavenge the wolf kills before going into or in coming out of hibernation. Dozens of other species take from wolf kills- ravens, coyote, eagles. The introduction of wolves diversified the environment, made it healthy. The drop in elk let willow and aspen grow without so much grazing. The bears couldn't manage that. The mountain lions didn't. "

"You are part of the Negaverse- a highly hierarchical, meant to be highly efficient team of individuals who can clear this world of senshi and knights. Allow our people to flourish. You are a mountain lion, but you need to learn to also be a wolf when the time is right. We start with a simple exercise, then move on to something more acrobatic. "

The captain put her pipe aside on the roof top. "We're going to sit cross-legged, back to back, our palms touching. Our palms can never stop touching. We have to get up to standing again by communicating and working together. "

The lieutenant's lack of peace with the activity was palpable, from the fidgiting to loosen up to the set of her spine as Schörl slowly rolled her own body back against the woman. For as bony as the captain was, her years of training made her movements smooth as water when she had the mind to.

Schörl starter her own fingertips at the heels of Cinnabar's palms, petting the pads of fingers slowly along the other woman's. She slowly breathed, noting the places the callouses lay and the build of the woman's tendons. "Only when it is needed. This is where we become one body. Breath. You feel me, but you are too eager to move on that you do not know me."

There is gravity in your limbs, the luxurious curves and womanhood, mine do not have. The easiest thing to do is to just set our feet and push back to back, making allowances for weight, strength and balance. What about other solutions? What if we needed not to just get up, but be battle ready doing it? If you knew my flexibility, if you thought of our palms touching but how they could rotate, we could be facing each other. I can feel the strength in your hips, Mishnah.

I suppose I should be grateful she can curb her impulses to to the exercise at all, if not see any deeper uses to it or make good on them. Not that 'grateful' is one of my strengths. The captain exhaled and her boots clicked in shifting, "Go."

The 'wait' for Schörl's likewise shift wasn't a wait at all. It was done in succinct mirror against Cinnabar's move. It was already done. "So uncertain of yourself, or of me? Grasping so limits our movement, unless you expect me to deliberately pull away and blame you for the failure of the exercise?"

"Tactically more the vice than the wind."
The captain expected that with the realization that movements were already being matched, that Cinnabar would take the cue that she didn't need to make pauses. Schörl continued their ascent until they were both standing, matching with measured counter as precise as the first. "Well enough."

"Sparring more your preference." It was toned as a question, though there were hints of it being an observation.

"Plato said that more can be discovered about a person in an hour of play than a year of conversation. The obvious or the plain measures? Sparring works, but not all the war is fought with fists. People act differently in adrenalin than out. 'Team building', is as a measure of how someone problem solves, how they involve others, those vaunted strengths and weaknesses but in character and socialization. It lets me know if and how you innovate. "

"It takes more than brute skills to lead. Chaos increases those per force, it's the rest they can't pump into your starseed. "

Schörl shifted back, finding balance and stance, "But by your pleasure, Cinnabar. You choose your own next. Tell me what you measure in sparring me. Years of offense against years of redirection."

Schörl's eyebrow arched up, almost making a silhouette of question. As ...though SpecOps has nothing to do at all with thought processes? I AM in SpecOps. Are you half-witted, or just never thought to have a look at the roster sheets of the organization you are a part of. SpecOps is where a great deal of thought should be, and is lacking, as it is supposed to be the seat where we police and evaluate our own for signs of betrayal.

But Hammers to Nails as you say. Knowing one's own suited tasks is a start. As Cinnabar shifted forward, reversing attack for a grab, Schörl didn't panic or pull away. Compensation and Flow. Her grabbed wrist was only slightly less common than deflection of a punch- the captain's muscles turned to trying to pull her opponent forward with the woman's own ample momentum, over leg and striking Cinnabar's head to the ground. "There are no advantages in learning. We are all students."

Training with Xenotime, and training since, had addressed just such a weakness inherent in what the captain had at her disposal- never get caught on the ground. Cinnabar had a great grip, and a strong pull. Physics was so much of ground arts, and grip was the rest. The woman was grabbing just her wrist, not getting leverage in the clothing itself as one might in grappling while wearing a dobok, gi, gungfu saam or other such uniform attire.

Schörl's motion as the lieutenant pulled was shift- turn wrist to a perpendicular to the grasp so that her wristbones matched the lengthwise angle of Cinnabar's fingers and then pulled against the weakened grip that relied on pointer finger and thumb alone. It was executed with a crow-hop back from reach. Better to allow Cinnabar her feet than leaving more opportunity for grasping and hauling to the ground.

"Good. Grip is better on the clothes, next time. "

Superior speed, and agility, reaction speed by charge of rank did help, but so did a defensive martial art defending. Schörl's counter floated- cloud hands, lifted and deflecting the lead punch as she stepped to flank to avoid the second. The verbal jabs read as about that much, 'jabs' meant to draw attention or ire and encourage mistakes. The captain smiled, keeping to flank to force her own brand of uncertainty or ire right back at the Lieutenant. "The victorious win first then see to the battle. Who lose rush in."

"Bedroom secrets, however, are best experienced than discussed, luv. "

"But don't you worry, CinCity; I don't need Chaos," Schörl step-shifted to sweep a boot at one of Cinnabar's heels. " To blow your brassiere."

They were rather like virtual towers. Probably have their own zipcode.