Xuu Shu's Story

Xuu Shu cleans their sword and dagger whistling a bit as they did so. He runs a finger down the blade testing the sharpness as it cuts him. “Yep…sharp.” He mutters as he sucks the blood from his finger and shakes his hand. He was only here to train again today, but you couldn’t get any better if you didn’t train.
Once done with his preparations he stands up holding the sword and the coil of thin rope that was attached to the dagger in one hand as he looks at the empty arena before he slices through the air with his sword as if fighting an invisible opponent, his steps fluid but nowhere near a master level. He was still learning after all, the passion though was there.
He flicks the dagger out of his hand guiding it’s path with the rope as if it was a weight on a ribbon, before guiding it back to him, feeling the blade hit the leather arm guards, with a sigh. “And this is why I wear these…” he murmurs softly as he looks at the door as he coils the rope once more, a soft yawn escaping his lips.

All he fleels is the slight vibrations of his muscles put out by standing idle. Patient, beyond his opponent by several meters, his eyes shift to study his environment. Nothing ambient tickles him besides his cheeks, and the tendrils of hair that bounces off thereof. He feels nothing besides curious anxiety, a product of his manifestation. And for all of the structures that facilitated the upcoming, he fondles the grounds. With his toe, staring down only with his eyes just for a bleak second, he traces a random crease. When it fades say, he would part.

And then he jots his stare back to where his opponent partitioned itself. His throat groans a gurgling growl. His right arm, instantly erect, extends straight from the socket of his shoulder. A bellowing fume spawns, gloom from his fog machine palm, distilling in the air a slight aura of itself. The mass mostly congeals the shape of his beauftul, shimmering weapon. As his fingers wrapped on the hold that built conveniently for him, the gasses expanded to become nothing. His arm collapses, although not flaccid, from assuming weight of the item relaeased. But all so swiftly his left arm grasps for the remaining space the hold offered, suspending the blade in an angle through the air that swished before him.

Xuu Shu turns to his opponent with a grin, the dagger hooked to the end of his sword as he gives him a bow. "So you are the guy I am fighting? Or at least sparring against? Pleasure to meet you. I am Xuu Shu. Call me Xuu if that is easier for you." he remarks holding his stance in an easy going manner.

"That...is a big sword you have there, good for keeping most opponents there distance with a shorter weapon...but a bit bad if they get close to you." he offers as he walks over to him in a peaceful manner and holds out his hand, "Let's have a good match, first blood sound go to you?" he asks with a smile as he rubs a hand through his unkempt hair.

As his opponent approached him, Uileam pulls his instrument much closer to his body, over his shoulder and leaving the grip to his right hand's jurisdiction. At every swift movements he watches intensely. His eyes are the only apparent animation of his being. But when his head is reached for, Uileam's head lifts. His back arcs in, and twists to the left a small angle. Squinting, he makes eyes contact with his opponent. Using his left hand, he would force his opponent apart by grasping the corresponding shoulder.

"What are you getting through? Are these lingoes and gestures a ritual in your preparation, or are you legitimately engaged?"

He'd force the stranger back by rotating his wrist and pushing his right arm forward, extending his weapon. He jabs in the direction the blade faces. "I beg you to appropriate them only if necessary."

Xuu Shu blinks at the mans’ apparent…well defensive reaction to a handshake and greeting. He feels him grab his shoulder as he slithers out of it. A half smile on his face as he looks at him through half closed eyes. Again he rubs his free hand through his messy hair.

“Hey now, just being friendly. I think it is a good idea to introduce oneself to their opponent before fighting them.” He explains to him as he dodges the hand grabbing for his wrist, “No need to grab at me, if you want to do it afterwards that is fine too, but remember this isn’t a fight to the death, well on my side. I just need some sparring practice.”
“As for legitimately engaged, if you mean if I am ready for this fight, then yeah I am.” He says as he tugs on his armguards a bit before giving him a light bow, his brown eyes not leaving him though.

Marcus steps into the arena, watching. He's restless for a fight, tapping his baton against his armored thigh. He waits for one of the many people to prepare for a match, so he can approach them and ask them for a fight.
In the meantime, he's going to do a full check of his equipment.