Savannah was fast asleep when her phone went off. She jumped a little, confused and weary with sleep and then reached for her phone. The screen read "One New Message: Dad". She put her phone down without reading the message, she already knew what it would say.

"Good morning" She said when she realized Haeley was awake too, "I hope my phone didn't wake you up" Then she paused and laughed a little, "I hope I didn't hit you or anything when it went off, it just scared the crap out of me."

"Morning kiddo." Haeley still had his eyes closed and was half covered by a blanket. He wasn't an early riser so he's probably stay there until Stan came to get him.

"Nope, it's cool, see that's why when I go to dream land, I turn my phone off, in fact, it's still off, and until I'm ready to get up, it will not be touched. Great rules of Haeley Fornner are of great use." He smiled.

Macey woke up that morning with bed head hair. It was very what's the word? Fuzzy. Crazy. She yawned. "Damn it's early,' she yelled. Then she checked her phone it was 10:30, "Never mind!" she yelled. (LOL Macey is quite a charecter)

She got up to go to the bathroom and see how bad she looked. When she looked in the mirror the only bad thing was her hair really. When she sleeps her make-up never wears off so it was still almost perfect, but he hair was crazy. She ran he fingers through it trying to make it normal. Then she relized that she has a hairtie around her wrist so she put up her hair. Much better, she though.

She walked out of the bathroom and yawned the most unatractive crazy looking yawn ever.

"That sounds like an excellent idea" Savannah said reaching down and turning her phone off. It didn't occur to her until after her phone was off to check the time. It didn't really matter though, she wouldn't be falling back asleep for a while.

"Morning Macey" she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster when Macey came back in the room from the bathroom.

"How did we get down here?" She asked, "I think I was already half asleep." It didn't feel like a blackout, and there wasn't all that much she couldn't remember.

"Morning Macey"

Macey smiled but said nothing. She wasn't sure she should speak, something more stupid then what she usually says may come out.

"How did we get down here?"

Macey pointed to Haeley. She remembered him carrying Savannah down after she started feeling crappy. After that they where all asleep within minutes. But Macey wasn't sure where Stan was she hadn't seen him since last night. He was probably still sleeping. Lucky.

Macey yawned but this time waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay less crazy. She sat down and closed her eye. She hated getting but before lunch. It just wasn't her thing.

Savannah pictured Haeley carying her down the stairs. "Where are Stan and Miguel?" she asked. She assumed Stan was in his bedroom somewhere in the house sleeping, but where was Miguel? She thought he might have gone to see Selena, or back to his hotel room, or maybe he was sleeping somewhere upstairs. "And whats for breakfast?" She asked. Savannah was starving, she had only taken a few bites of her sandwich.

Haeley raised his hand. "Half drunk, I carried you down the stairs and laid you on the couch, then in the process, I fell asleep on you as well." He laughed a little before opening his eyes and seeing Macey standing in front of them.

"Stan's probably still asleep,, but when he wakes up he'll probably cook...or I guess we could all cook now if you two are really hungry, I make grate sandwiches." He gave two thumbs up.

That still left Miguel unaccounted for, but Savannah figured he could take care of himself. "I don't know if I can move" she said and laughed. It wasn't that she couldn't move, she just didn't want to. "Macey we left our roommate all alone last night!" Savannah said.

When Ricky went in for his punching techniques, Chase dodged all of them by moving his head and executed a trip kick to the back of his right foot that knocked him on his butt.
"I thought I said light free sparring," he said with a laugh, "that means no physical blows."
He executed a side kick that stopped an inch from Ricky's face.
"Like so."
He would have extended a hand to help him up, but did not want that to be an opening used for a wrestling move that would put Ricky in an advantageous position on top of him. He kept the proper distance to avoid leg locks or sliding grabs and waited for him to stand.

Ricky fell back, but had already kicked himself upwards, before stopping himself halfway to see the foot stop a mere inch from his face, before climbing up to his feet, and away from the strike.

"Right…right…I'm not used to light free sparring. My…trainer had me going full contact…when I was learning the wrestling that is. That's the way I learned the Snapping Mustang. Now, regular boxing punches and some kicks, I was taught to hold back a bit..."

Ricky moved in with some strikes, only they seemed to be boxing strikes with open hands, mostly to strike with the palms, stopping at least five inches whenever it would reach Chase, but always pulling back immediately. After about 15 strikes, whether successful or not, he moved in for Chase's forearm, still appearing to use a palm strike. Only now, if he was successful, he could restrain the limb, hop on the other boy's thigh, and bring him down into an armbar.

Chase nodded.
"It's fine. I just don't want anyone to get seriously hurt."
As Ricky started boxing, Chase kept his guard up. He knew better than to try any grabs at this point, as his opponent would be expecting that. Ricky went for a palm strike, but Chase saw the hand open up just a little wider and the fingertips touched his skin.

In that fraction of a second, Chase used the back of his hand to hit Ricky's forearm knocking the arm away. In that opening, he put both hands behind Ricky's head in what those in the Muay Thai world call "the plumb", which is the worst place to be in when facing a Muay That practitioner. From here, he could have pulled Ricky's head around and snapped knees into his sides, stomach, or even his face. On the other hand, he could also kick Ricky's legs out from under him to trip him, then sit down and trap his head in his underarm, using the forearm to cut off air; this move is called a guillotine submission. Instead of doing any of that, he transitioned to a single leg take down, since Sambo practitioners love to get hold of the leg, and wound up on top of him in the open guard position, which was a kind of mount.
"Show me how a Luchadore would get out of this," Chase said, genuinely curious about Ricky's fighting style.

Ricky was struggling to get himself free. Being a Luchadore, he must have had it easy, fighting so few as skilled as Chase. He wrapped his legs around his opponent, feeling his ankles meeting as he wrapped around with his legs, his hands moving down to the floor, trying to lift himself up a bit, just near where chase was above the luchadore, his arms being the key to the strange technique he planned to use. He began to shout loudly, elbows bending before a hard push into the ground, trying to get himself going upwards, so he could headbutt chase, and get the fighter onto his back so he could climb off, and end the ground confrontation.

Of course, this sparring variation wouldn't have the head butt, just most of his energy going into his arms for the push. If possible, he'd maneuver himself so he could get his opponent's head between his thighs for the drop onto his back.

"To look stupid, or not to look stupid…" He mumbled, as his muscles strained slightly, his hands blasting into the floor, trying to move up a little, almost moving his head back and into chase's face for the original version, before shifting himself and expecting to see his legs rise just enough for his legs to connect and restrain. Strange, yet realistic techniques like this were his trade, whether it was just for show, or if he was using such a thing in a real fight.

The only thing on his mind at the moment was the finisher he planned on using...