1672/A Long-Expected Meeting Pt. 2

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A Long-Expected Meeting Pt. 2
Date of Scene: 14 May 2020
Location: Shang-Chi's Home
Synopsis: Round 2: FIGHT ! And also the tea is ready.
Cast of Characters: Shang-Chi, Sandra Wu-San




Shang-Chi has posed:
Tea for the moment forgotten, Shang-Chi leads his surprise guest for the evening, one Sandra Wu-San, back down into the warehouse that he owns, laden with mats and training equipment of a rustic and industrial style. Very functional and not a lot of decoration (though some of the weapons available are quite beautiful in their own way).

"This way...." He moves towards the center, leaving them the full span of the warehouse to utilize for what is likely to be a long, difficult battle for both of them.

He pivots on his heel and faces her, giving another formal bow, a cordial hint of a smile, before adding, "Do you wish to warm up or stretch first? My own training was recent enough that it should be unnecessary, but I would wish no disadvantage upon you, however small." Because in this case? It might make all the difference.

Sandra Wu-San has posed:
Arms crossed and hidden in the ample sleeves of her double-breasted garment, Lady Shiva follows. Not a hint of the upcoming fight shows in her face; she is as serene at Kuan Yin looking out over the universe. Once in the training area, she looks around her briefly and shakes her head, reading Shang-Chi's face both the surface and the man beneath the exterior.

"You are too kind. I am ready." The readiness implies many things, not the least being she came prepared for this eventuality.

The bow is returned precisely and respectfully. Shifting her weight to distribute it equally between both feet, she moves one foot then other offering him horse stance - both a courtesy as it is a humble pose and respect for him. Shiva does not take him lightly and the eagerness to fight someone of his stature warms her black eyes with anticipation.

Shang-Chi has posed:
"Very well." Shang-Chi replies, almost cheerful. He takes in a deep breath through his nose, then exhales slowly as he too relaxes into the Horse stance, expression as placid as a still pond on a windless day.

"If you wish to transition to weapon sparring at any time, simply take one." He notes, two fingers of his lead hand pointed upwards, in line with his body and his opponent, with his trailing hand curling into a fist, held near the chest.

"Let us begin."

Sandra Wu-San has posed:
There is a moment of silence in the dojo while the two masters align with one another, breathing synchronizing, they each find the stillness in the moment. Imagine a tiger walking the quiet of a forest on alert to it prowling, Shiva moves into the fundamental stance in a blur of motion, foot forward, fist moving nearly unseen towards Shang-Chi's face.

Has she softened with age, not seeking to debilitate him in the first blow? Or does she seek to prolong the match out of curiosity and the pleasure of fighting?

Shang-Chi has posed:
Shang-Chi's head shifts, a small motion swiftly executed, to avoid the strike launched towards his face.

And the dance begins.

It is often customary for opponents to feel each other out in the first moments of a sparring match, and while this is no different...it's at a vastly accelerated timescale. And nothing whatsoever approaching tentative. For fighters such as these, each strike speaks volumes, and anything less than "full speed" could be viewed as an insult.

Shang answers the first strike with a quick flurry of probing strikes, designed as much to distract as cause any real damage. But it is readily apparent that it is not so much a gambit so much as reaction. Indeed, for those accustomed to reading body language Shang-Chi is a symphony playing at the speediest of tempos. Thought, action, and reaction all but simultaneous. Feeling the flow of his opponent in the fragments of moments between each breath, strike, shift of a stance, evasion, and block.

Sandra Wu-San has posed:
The standard responses are exchanged as formal as pouring tea for a guest. The dojo resounds with the blows exchanged, the shush of feet across the mats, the wind of their passage.

Their speed would leave an untrained bystander bewildered for once they have moved through the initial forms, it is like the two are airborne, using the walls and weapon carriers as easily as walking the floor.

Horse presents his hoof, naughty bird plays with water, the names are as poetic as the movements are deadly when performed by two at their level of training.

A cry resounds in the room brought up from a deep place inside of Shiva, it is meant to focus her energy and to distract her opponent; athe smack of an open palm striking Shang-Chi's face punctuates it.

Shang-Chi has posed:
Shiva draws the first strike. But it is hardly the last, and the opening such a blow might grant against a lesser fighter never presents itself. It does, perhaps, put Shang-Chi on the defensive for a few moments, but only just.

He is called the Master of Kung Fu...and he more than lives up to the name. It is not simply a matter of flowing between the various styles of that hallowed martial art, but a Tiger-Style claw is seamlessly followed with a Crane style Kick that smoothly transitions into a Leopard Style evasion, and every so often some element of one martial art or another that is not Kung-Fu at all, for while he is the Master of Kung-Fu he is a student of nearly all the ways in which the human body, mind, and soul are honed into a weapon.

Though no less so his opponent.

Still, the battle ebbs and flows, strikes avoided, strikes deflected, and occasionally strikes that land with precisely the amount of force required to leave a good bruise, but not to likely do permanent damage.

And as the match continues, Shang-Chi feigns a backpedal that suddenly reverses into a powerful, deceptively simple strike, accompanied by a KIAI of his own, channeling the force of his strike along his body, and straight into Shiva's midsection.

Sandra Wu-San has posed:
Barely evading the square thump in her stomach, Shiva whirls away riposting with a series of flying kicks that if slowed down to a motion that makes them easy to read float through the dojo room. Shang-Chi earns her respect with every passing flurry of blows; that he knows leopard form, among the more advanced in the kung fu but also used in other teachings comes as no surprise to her.

She nods once before leaping, then feinting to the left then to the right, her fist cocked in leopard strike.

"Shhhhhiiiiiiaaaayy," she lands three blows, below the nose, the throat and then over his heart, alternating hands held in the particular leopard strike. He will know them for what they are, dim mak in Chinese, pulled at the last moment, death not being her final goal. She seeks knowledge of just who the man is before her.

Shang-Chi has posed:
The pulling of the strike might not have been strictly necessary, not that it isn't noted and appreciated, but he can see where that sequence is going, and as the third strike lashes out, it connects not with heart, but with Shang-Chi's own hand, swatting her wrist down and grasping it to yank her even an iota off-balance, as knife-hand launches to the bridge of the nose...striking with just-barely less force than would likely have broken her nose.

The hand releases her wrist, and he drops low to attempt a leg sweep, borne more of the Brazilian Capoiera than any Asian form, and with his head carefully maneuvered to make it quite difficult to strike at should the sweep be avoided, and he's back on his feet in a fighting stance once more, fingers and thumbs bunched together, striking at several nerve clusters in Snake-Style strikes, seeking to deaden one arm and render it temporarily useless.

Sandra Wu-San has posed:
The telling of it takes longer than the strikes. Shiva catches the moment that he acknowledges her pulling her strikes. She has killed with them before, a younger self that did not honor life more than the ultimate fight. That younger woman left a trail of death in her wake, hero and villain falling indifferently before her quest for perfection.

Life has taken to another understanding of perfection. That quest no longer rules her life as it once did. The question, one that she holds deeply in her heart, has changed.

The snap of his block brings a flicker of a smile that disappears in a look of concentration. Leaping high she defies the sweeps, like Shang-chi, she is married to no style but to the flow of the fight.

Lightning fast, he cobra strikes and leaves a stinging memory of the blow, not quite achieving the deadening that he sought but the pain will linger as she ripostes with Happy Bird and Uprooting the Tree, midriff blows followed by kicks that land knee level.

Holding up both hands she signals for a stop to the fight. A sheen of perspiration gives testimony to the prowess of her opponent. She has taken his measure. Breathing deeply, she bows. "Now, we may talk."

Shang-Chi has posed:
If the question is whether or not Shang-Chi could he defeat her? Yes, if there is one thing that may seem clear from the fight, it is within his capability. But what is equally clear is that without a stroke of luck it would be a very long, very painful, and very uncertain process to achieve that feat.

"As you wish," An equally-sheened Shang-Chi replies, straightening and bowing formally once more. "I thank you for the opportunity to learn."

And as respiration returns to normal, he beckons back towards the makeshift apartment. "You are much as I expected. And yet you are not what I expected at all."

Sandra Wu-San has posed:
There was never any doubt in Lady Shiva's mind that she could have killed him several times during the fight. She has had the satisfaction of a good opponent and it shows in the respect she shows him. Her word is the backbone of her life and she had promised him *his* life.

Reading his confidence in his own abilities to take her down, Shiva stores that knowledge without rancor for another time, one that she has no wish to see. Lady Shiva is also called the Death-Bringer - with just cause.

Face composed, she nods her assent, a subtle inquisitive tilt to her head at the paradox he ends his invitation on.

Shang-Chi has posed:
Shang-Chi is silent as the move back to the apartment, pouring two cups of the now-ready Oolong tea, and offering one towards Shiva before he asks.

"All I have heard of you made me suspect you were here for a death match." Shang-Chi notes, "You have been the League's sharpest sword for years. I admit my surprise you were not simply sent against me under their auspices much sooner." He sips his tea and then says quite simply "But I feel as though there is more to the gleam in your eye than love of the fight. You're searching for something."

Sandra Wu-San has posed:
Seating herself formally, fruit of her upbringing under two strict parents that insisted on observing the old forms despite bringing her to the United States, Shiva watches him impassively, at first. Her expression warms after the first thoughtful sip of tea.

"The League is behind me. I have left them for many reasons. You are astute, astute in a way that very few even among those who practice the same arts as we do are." A sip of tea and a reflective silence follows.

"There are many things that one may wish for in our short lives. Glory. Perfection. Power." Another pause as she sips her tea then places the cup down with a decisive click. "You had my word that I did not seek your death. Dealing death for the sake of perfect form no longer interests me, Master Shang-Chi. Tell me about your battles here."

Shang-Chi has posed:
"Then you are fortunate to be among the few that the League would have to give most careful thought to hunting. Their normal retirement plan is atrocious." Yes, he jokes, sipping his own tea and seating himself opposite Shiva.

"You have sought all those things, at one point or another, have you not? Though perhaps not Power in the most traditional sense. Strength may be a better way of phrasing it, I think." He considers a few moments, "There has been little of great interest. I sometimes assist the Batman and his allies. I make sure the innocent people of this neighborhood are not overly troubled by criminal elements. I look and listen for signs of the League at work. Or the Hand, or any number of other such organizations." There's a twist of amusement to his lips as he adds, "And recently I have added miniature dinosaurs and intelligent gorillas to the list of foes that I have battled."

Sandra Wu-San has posed:
"They do not wish to pay the price of my retirement," Shiva mirrors his humor in a gentle laugh. "It would cost them too much."

"These are the things I've heard said about you. I, too, have thought to seek out Batman and his allies. Does that surprise you? Though, rumors of gorillas and miniature dinosaurs have not reached me till now."

Shang-Chi has posed:
"Ah, you must have been deep in your training for a while. It was a strange sort of...affliction that troubled much of the globe for a few weeks. It was..." He sips his tea, looking thoughtful, "Very odd. But the matter has been settled now."

"I suspect you know enough of me to already know that I am most amenable to any that choose to turn their skills towards the preservation of life and the protection of those that may lack the means to protect themselves. But to be more clear, yes, it is somewhat surprising. Not an unwelcome surprise, though, nor a change that I would have judged impossible."

And after some time spent in more philosophical conversation, they part ways with a polite farewell. Perhaps not friends so quickly, but for the moment, at least not enemies.