Handsomely built with the oldest logs from the Fortree woods, Flying Sword School stood at the border between the tall grass of Hoenn's wilds and where the city's dense growth began in earnest. The main building stood proud in the village square. Unlike the main city, one could see the sky clear and open from here.

"Hello? Anyone there?"

The unplanned visitor had his question answered by the sound of slashing swords.

"Watch your left!" Finnegan barked, one of his two swords slicing through the air. His opponent - an adept fighter as well - met Finn's sword with his own, parrying it off with a slash so swift it sparked. "Nice one! Stay open - keep your eyes and ears around you - hiyah!" Falker dropped and slashed to the side like an Absol, and the other man caught his sword between his pair. The two duellers pressed up against each other, their backs gleaming like the steel of their swords.

After a charged second, Finn's wrathful gaze turned into an approving grin. The tension between both men dropped with a well deserved chuckle.

"Well done, Starling. I'll see you next week." Finn and Starling bowed to each other, shook hands and separated. Sheathing his swords into the straps tied around his chest, Finn turned to face his visitor. Lanky, black hair, probably a handful of years ahead of Finn. Didn't seem to know what to expect.

"Can I help you?" Finn asked, regulating his breath.

Zev Harcourt

A prospective student?

Well, then Finn better put on a shirt.

Finn strode over, slowly and stately, to a chair by the side. He pulled his green and white robe off its back and draped it over himself, knitting it loosely over his waist.

Finn inspected Zev as they locked hands. He looked like he might be decent with a sword. He might even have had some kind of experience with fighting. But beyond his face, Zev looked like a shadowy haze. Like there was more to him that Finn couldn't see - or was being blocked from seeing.

"I'm Finnegan. Nice to meet you." Finn's smile was stoic but respectful. Still, he wondered why Zev came all the way here. If he'd seen their school online, he could have signed up online.

"It must've been quite a journey to get here. What brings you this far out?" Finn's eyes flickered.

Zev Harcourt

Zev seemed earnest. Well, earnest enough. Finn nodded approvingly in response to Zev's comment about in-person visits. He was right - trying to conduct online sword lessons was a nightmare that Finn hoped to never visit again. Sometimes, his marketing committee pushed him to do some questionable, questionable things.

"Well, I have some time before I see my next student. Shall we have a look at the grounds?"

Finn led the way, opening the grand doors of the main hall to look out at the courtyard, bathed in sunlight and wind. Students in black training robes sparred in small pockets across the big open space. Some Taillow perched by the sides, watching the clash of wooden training swords as they chirped amongst themselves. The forest air laid lightly on the School. All about was the sound of honest hard work, and sometimes a chuckle.

"Have you had much experience with training before? What are you trying to get here?" Finn asked softly, measuredly. They turned a sunlit corner and strolled past some gardens and huts where other teachers and students consulted in private. A refreshment booth stood with a humble pitcher of ice cold tea and some cakes.

"Tea?" Finn asked, making to pour them both cooling glasses of their kitchen's crisp-tasting tea.

Zev Harcourt

Finn's judgment of Zev shifted as the visitor spoke about his experience with MMA. It was like watching a machine warm up its engine. The fondness of Zev's memories melted through his mask, and now he looked genuinely eager to learn, share, explore. He moved and spoke quicker and brighter. Finn's own expression lightened reciprocally. It lit a fire inside him whenever he saw other people glow with passion. It was why he did what he did. 

"You're right," Finn answered Zev approvingly. "When you fight with swords, you have to move your centre of gravity like mercury. Silvery, quick, always adapting to change." As if to demonstrate - but really just because Finn's thoughts wore his body like a glove - Finn slid his weight from one foot to the other like a shadow gliding over a pavement, a dancing Absol. 

As Finn took a long cool sip of tea, he thought about how Zev might fit into his school. He had some prior skill, a good dose of enthusiasm - but what Finn looked for was flexibility. 

"I think you might enjoy yourself here, Zev," Finn remarked, his half-finished glass held loosely in his grip; "I'm just thinking about which level we can slot you into."

A playful smile underlined his cheekbones. 

"If you want, we could do the entrance test right now." 

Zev Harcourt

Finn's smile broadened even as his brows and chin remained strong, as if to reassure Zev that he wasn't going to be in any real trouble. Instead, he would just be in a little bit of trouble - a splash of finely calibrated chaos. 

"Relax. You don't need to prepare anything. We have all the equipment we need right here." 

Finn paused to let the uncertainty sink in. There was nothing much around them. They stood on an earthen pathway flanked by two rows of training huts and a drink stand. What did Finn possibly mean?

Satisfied (with himself), Finn took another sip of his tea, enjoying its cutting coldness as it fanned across his lips. Then, Finn raised his glass as if to offer Zev a toast. 

Some Taillow peered down at them from the red-tiled rooftops.

"Your test is to take this glass off me. No breaking; no spilling." 

Finn's smile shifted into a crafty smirk. 

"Do you accept?" 

Zev Harcourt

OOC: I'm thinking this could evolve into either a bareknuckle duel, a chase, maybe a Pokemon battle? However it flows!

Economy of effort. Why waste energy doing more than you need to get the result you want?

Zev threw his hand forward; Finn responded simply by stepping to his left, barely causing a stir in his tea.

Finn wasn't always like that. Back when he was a hotheaded beginner, neophyte Finn saw force and agitation as the cure to all problems. He learned, as he matured on the path, that not all problems require solving, and that solving them often needed less force than you thought. And so he felt that, with enough guidance, Zev had promise to grow like he did too.

A Taillow's chirp rang in the air.

"I'll see you when I see you."

Finn dashed off in a blitz of green, back down the rows of huts and towards the main training area. This felt good to him. He felt certain that Zev would give him a good workout.

Zev Harcourt

Finn stopped right where the path fed into the main square. He didn't need to see Zev to know he wasn't having a good time - he heard his feet pounding painfully on the ground and his limbs flapping in the wind.

Finn did feel a bit bad for the guy. He looked breathless and lost. Maybe he was really out of practice. But what about his enthusiasm for his previous training, the way it unwound his mask to reveal that excitable, pliable warmth inside?

"Alright, I give you my word - I won't move more than three feet away."

Finn's stance shifted. Instead of resting light on his feet, he let his weight sink deeper into the ground. He lowered his centre of gravity, spread his feet apart, and moved one arm up to guard himself, his other arm holding the glass away from Zev like a treasure.

"You said you've practiced before. Show me." Finn tilted his head gently, almost mischievously, daring Zev to make a move. He was trying to keep things open and jovial, but his students often said - although perhaps not in front of him - that he sometimes came on too strong for them to breathe.

Zev Harcourt