Welcome to Gaia! ::

Schörl had found this new lifestyle took a fair amount of getting adjusted to, particularly the imbalances in personal and environmental flow caused by the flux of whatever it was the higher ups did in one's chest to activate or awaken someone into their little club.

It left her feeling more on edge, every waking, like a cup that had vibrated half off the edge of a table with hours passing full of loud bass from a party downstairs...one that needed to be realigned properly before it fell off with another riff to smash into a hundred ceramic pieces. She had the cure. Neijia leveraged the mind and softness, stance and form, against the tension in her limbs. She flexed and stretched step by step through a form, involving every muscle in every breath as her muscles flowed through the more practical rapid motions of actual fighting instead of the patient slow ache of practice only. She had no physical opponent before her, but that was fine, so far, as her opponent as defined was her own self.

At least, until she heard something in the trees, and looked up parting-the-horses-mane. Someone else...practicing...?

She did not pause in her form, wincing a little as the boisterous exclamations interrupted her flow. But the power signature was like to hers. A title of rank...higher...than hers. He was...young. There had best be something that made him special.

"Captain Bazzite," She sped her motions to finish her form quickly with the precision of a scalpel, then bowed to him. "Lieutenant Schörl, I am a new recruit."

"May I be of some service? " that hopefully wasn't just gawking and exclaiming at. An alarming sort of ball of energy.

"Do. not. use. filler. words. " She enunciated.

"Movement and stillness, solidification and fluidity- all these to focus on the movement and use your mind to direct the movements for body and brain meet at the same point at the same time." She narrowed her eyes a little, and flowed back into stance. "I will show you what I do know. You recognize Taijiquan from any other martial art; you must know something. "

And as a captain he should know plenty, perhaps could be her sifu. Was he just acting modest? She wasn't certain. The look of panic followed up by the practical grovelling seemed frightfully genuine. It wasn't unusual for a youth to be so gifted that they became teacher to their elders. But this boy seemed like an idiot. 'Bazzite', more like spazzite.

Schörl struck out with an open palm, trying to catch side of the boy's neck and send him reeling.

I don't think he even followed the conversation? No, he's completely convicted in what he's saying...still asking me if I woudl teach him despite my saying I was about to show him what I knew as a implicit declaration. "Explicit and implicit do not mean anything to you, do they?"

It was half rhetorical, half not. "Learn or teach, lift those hands."

"I use Chen-shi T'ai chi ch'uan. It focuses on chan si jin, silk reeling, and burst-power techniques called fa jin. It is martial efficacy. What has no purpose must be cast away. "

Schörl unpinned her brooch, and removed her stock tie to use - they were meant of old to be useful as a sling if a huntsman was unhorsed and broken an arm, so it would serve well enough as an shorter version of a martial arts ribbon. "Attack me, Captain, and learn."

Explicit? He's not joking... This kid....was an idiot. This kid was her superior in rank. HOW did that happen? HOW was that allowed? Who promoted him?

Still, he was a lot faster than she was expecting. He countermeasure was a little late, meaning that a good deal of the force of his blow was still transferred into her wrist as she tried to lead him through into a throw - take the enemy's own attack and use the speed and force to redirect them.

Her wrist hurt, and he didn't really go flying, just a flip over her arm and landed right-side up on his feet where he maybe hadn't imagined himself standing and still next to her. She had a better idea of his strength and speed though. She danced back to fists' length, flourishing the 'ribbon' at his face to try to confuse him.

When the captain successfully grabbed the stock-tie-turned-ribbon, the lieutenant took initiative to reverse her backtread and use his superior strength and speed again. When he pulled, she didn't let go of her end, absorbing the shock though shoulders and followed in the momentumright into his close range to try to open palm strike him in the nose.

Nose shots weren't crippling, but they did force eyes to water and blind people if they landed. "Tricky?"

"Martial Art means a study of war tactics. There's no trick."

He exploded with noise and praise again...and...just
Got
Up.

Schörl quirked her head a little, her eyebrows nearly forming the question mark that was already formed in the grey matter behind them. He's an idiot, yes. But he's....impervious. It's like a tower shield of energy and enthusiasm that deflects all opposition. He's not nursing wound at all, he's undeterred.

She wasn't sure he was inspiring, but as she let the stock tie drop to leave them both facing each other with bare hands she felt a grudging rise of some purpose to this boy tingling in her need for Flow and Efficiency. Maybe he wasn't something wholly to be abandoned. He could have use. He could learn, perhaps, with enough repetition.

"Alright. You've seen some counters, Bazzite. Let's get specific. What I was doing earlier when you arrived is Form 1. Each move is deflecting, redirecting or throwing an imaginary attack....punches or kicks at different levels from the face to the ankles. Try to punch me in the face, and watch how I deflect it. I will flat my palm against the outside of your wrist and push it to the side while your energy would still travel you forward. Then, I will slowly mimic a punch at your face, and you will slowly mimic how I deflected, palm to wrist and push. We will do this back and forth 10 times, slow motion. It needs to become memory to your muscles, not your brain, so that the next time someone tries to punch you in the face, you automatically move to deflect without wasting thought- your thought could be on the battlefield situation and tactics. But that will come later. "

"Attack. Slowly. Like the Matrix bullet time." She repeated herself to try to idiot-proof the explanation. Hopefully his head was not so resilient as his body when it came to words assaulting it.