Another Headache (Private; Beyril and Atlas)

Avaline nodded, "Alright everyone, get in your teams for drills. Mercer, you're with me." She strode onto the field, into a ring with five targets set up, "Alright, Mercer. Let's see what you've got." Avaline shifted into her weapon form, the heavy round metal forming into his arm. It was surprisingly light, given the steel appearance, and smoothed on the surface with leather straps forming around his arms to hold her in place, "Feel free to show me some creativity. I know you're capable of it."

Harrison flexed the fingers of his shield-bearing hand, eyes fluttering closed as his wavelength extended to hers. Her power flowed through him like lifeblood, settling into his bones with an unnatural warmth. The meister could feel his heart racing, pounding the steady beat of a war drum into his chest.

This power...I've never felt anything like this. Is this what it is to partner with a Death Scythe?

Avaline's voice echoed in his head, "I know it can be a bit much all at once. It's okay if you take it easy at first." Each word brought with it the thrum of warmth, strength, that power that came with holding a Death Scythe as a partner. Pairing with any other weapon, the ease of resonance with Ezra, the electric touch of Addy... none of it felt as raw as holding Avaline's shield in the open field behind the academy. The naturalness of it, the way the body felt like it could jump further, reach higher, strike harder all relaxed into the fibers of Harrison's muscles like it simply belonged there.

Harrison allowed a small grin to settle onto his lips as he slid into ready stance, legs widening into a strong base stance. Eyes lowered to the first target, gaze set on the weak joint connecting the head to the body of the target. The meister luched forwards, feet dancing in a crow hop as his shield arm coiled back in preparation. A snarled grunt escaped him as his arm whipped forwards, fist straightening to a flat palm as the straps passed over it, the shield flying forwards as a streak of silver.

The shield whipped forward, knocking with a loud, "Pang!" against the joint as the dummy's head flew backwards sharply into the ground. The shield bounced back once it made contact, sliding back onto his arm.
"Good job, Mercer."

"We aren't done yet," the meister's voice echoed in the void. We have four to go. He sprang forward, letting the shield slip from his arm as he caught each strap in a separate hand. Coiled muscles released, forming into a leap that carried the pair between two targets. Harrison punched forwards with both hands, knocking the target directly before him backwards as one leg connected with the flanking dummy. Three down, he thought, pulling his arm back into the shield straps, wheeling to face his final targets.

"Doesn't mean I can't congratulate you along the way. Come on, let's see what you can do to this last one." Avaline echoed, though he could feel the vibrations from where she sat on his arm reflecting her thoughts. She was impressed.

Harrison eyed the remaining targets, settled like a 7/10 split in a bowling lane, smirking slightly as he weighed the options before him. I'll take the left-most target myself. As for the other...I remember doing this trick with my frisbees as a child. He coiled his arm once more, whipping it well overhead of the right-most target, watching the streak of silver soar overhead, falter, and descend in a straight path back towards the dummy. Sinking back into a coiled stance, the meister charged the remaining dummy, wheeling in a reverse spin to kick the target square in the chest. Wood bowed under his foot as the dummy lurched away from him. Unrelenting in his advance, he shoved off quickly, a rising knee shattering the dummy's torso entirely. Satisfied, he stepped back to watch as the falling shield found a direct path through the remaining target, scattering wood and straw in its wake. With all due respect, ma'am...I may need to call on you the next time I go disc golfing.

Avaline's shield whipped back around to Harrison, and she shifted back to stand next to him, offering him a high five, "Fantastic, Mercer. Your aim is excellent."

She looked over the students as they finished up their drills, "Alright, class. I think we're ready to have a few mock matches." She quickly partnered off a few teams, then looked to Savannah and Akira with a smirk, "Savannah, you and Akira will be up against Harrison and I. Think you can handle it?"

Akira stood casually, long black hair falling off his shoulder with the movement as he lazily strode up to Savannah, "Yes, ma'am." He cast a steely cold gaze to Harrison, a coy smirk behind his gray eyes as he rolled his head across his shoulders, cracking the joints.

Over a foot shorter than him, golden eyes turned from her partner and fiance to the instructor and student standing several feet off. She raised a brow, slowly easing out of her skirt to stand in plain black leggings and a fitted top, knowing, though hating, that she could not keep her legs hidden forever. "As you wish," she said, holding her hand out for the man to shift into it, skirt kicked aside. Beyril would reprimand her for the action later, but at present, she didn't rightfully care.

"He's big," Harrison murmured simply, eyeing the weapon as he worked the tension from his hands. "Thankfully, size matters little when you're flat on your back." Fingers worked at his shirt, undoing each button as he cast the garment aside to reveal a plain tee beneath it. He was fully aware of the pair's potential; letting his fashion sense hinder his mobility could prove a costly mistake. "Ma'am," the meister offered, extending an arm to her.

Akira shifted into his partner's hand like a crack of thunder, a red hot bolt of flame licking the air menacingly as the metal chain links clattered together at her side.

Ever a fan of simplicity, Avaline's shift was an easy one: the leather tightened on his arm as her voice echoed in his head, "They're tough. I won't offer any strategic advice, Mercer, because I think you can handle this."

Savannah held the handle at eye level, tossing it up and catching the dart at the end. She tossed it again, catching at the middle before tossing the end pieces as well, holding Akira folded in her palm. You were watching him, right? He's close-combat.

Harrison eyed the pair through narrow eyes, sweeping them for any signs of weakness and calculating his next move accordingly. "They have range in their attacks, but I can't imagine a whip serves as the best defense. Closing the gap will make this much simpler." The meister held the shield aloft, looking it over with a curious fascination, as one may look at a lover. Without warning, he wheeled in place, whipping the shield in a direct path towards Savannah's torso.

Akira agreed with a slight grunt, directing Savannah's attention at Avaline, who was barreling toward them at breakneck speed.

Savannah had dropped in half an instant, timing the strike of her whip such that it smacked the shield before it could reach her. Attack averted, she retracted the weapon, slinging it under her armpit and around so that it hung over her neck. Rolling to the side, she lashed the qilinbian out, extending the length of his chain with her soul energy, and cracking it towards the meister.

Harrison pushed off with one foot, weight swinging to one side to avoid the glinting streak of chain lashing at him. The dart embedded itself in the ground beside him with a sharp hiss, allowing the meister a slim moment to recover his shield, pulling it back over his arm. Even amidst the hurry, he couldn't avoid noticing the barbs dotting the chain links, catching the sunlight against the metal. "New plan. We don't lose the shield."

Avaline chuckled, "Smart idea. Akira's form, the quilliban, is akin to a whip made of barbed wire."

Akira growled a bit with the miss, a spark at the hilt of his handle begging to be ignited.

Easy, there, hotshot. Savannah cooed, gentle and calm as she swung him around and back to her, spinning him around her form as a sort of weaponized shield. What looks like a weak point? She inquired, though she was already building momentum with which to launch him forward again. Continuing to swing him as a guard against either side --- first one then the other as she stepped --- she made her way closer, finally ducking down, extending a leg out and swinging it in a wide arc. Stretching his chain once more, she followed the motion of her leg with it, aiming for the opposing meister's shins.

Harrison mumbled a curse to himself, skirting backwards to allow a fraction of a moment with which to form a strategy."She's trying to get me off the ground. I'm going to have to take this one." Dropping to a knee, the meister tucked himself behind the shield. The crack of the whip against the metal would have surprised him if he wasn't busy worrying about the sudden movement of the ground beneath him. A twist of his torso allowed him to turn the fall into a graceless roll, sighing as his feet touched down to right himself. "Death's breath. How can that whip carry that much force behind it?"

Akira sparked again, "How about now?"

Avaline chuckled, "They've got more than just that up their sleeves too. Mercer, do you know how to resonate?"

Patience is a virtue! She scolded, yanking him back. But fine. You'll pay for this later. Resonate. The thought barely escaped her mind before she was feeding him her soul energy, bouncing it back and forth against him as he amplified it. As the exchange continued, the chains thickened, hardening as the barbs extended and multiplied, the heat of the metal expanding until the entire weapon was aflame. She smirked behind the flaming pinwheel that guarded her, still swinging the weapon as a living, mobile shield. All but coiling herself towards her back leg, she kept the other extended, balancing herself as she continued to move the whips, sparking flames on the ground in front of her.

Harrison stepped back instinctively, teeth gritting behind the thin line his lips had reduced themselves to. "That is going to complicate things," he noted, observing the tight wheel of flame shrouding the meister. Eyes followed the smoldering chain with ease, though he knew asking his body to match them would be near-impossible. "If you're offering an attempt at resonance, now would be a great time to do it."

Akira smirked in the whip's path, "Is that a promise, petto?"

Avaline's soul wavelength thrummed against his skin like a live wire. All but electric humming across the surface of his skin as steel became like flesh against his arm. "Bet you can get him now."

Not now. You'll distract me, aijin. Savannah didn't even bother to fight with him over titles, as such would do nothing but break their concentration. She watched as the meister managed to achieve his own tier one resonance with the teacher, a fact that caused her to quickly grind her teeth. Remaining level-headed was not, under normal circumstances, an easy task for her. Now, it was certainly no easier. Studying the pair took instances, her golden eyes catching more than most people could see when actively observing. The shield seemed to have retracting into a full-on arm guard, covering him from shoulder to fingertips. There was no telling how well the metal would fair against the whip, even with it ignited from the leather grip to the angled dart. It could potentially be risky, now, to try to launch a direct assault, but while Akira was a ranged weapon, he was not a projectile one. She was fairly limited on options. Still, the fire that sparked from their resonance was one fueled by her own soul energy, thus leaving her immune to its effects. With this in mind, she could, in theory...

Fuck theories, let's go.

She folded Akira into her palm once more, though the fire at her feet remained, building slowly as her concentration increased, fueled by remnants of the contact made with their resonance. She watched, still observing, before recalling just how much the other meister had been _favoring_ the now metallic arm.

The other is injured. The revolution was an obvious one, noticed from an overly observative nature. To most, it wouldn't have been an abundantly obvious fact, but the elder Mercer had been taken greater care of his right side lately, and only recently seemed to have the range of motion back in tact. The extent and details of the injury, she knew not, but that seemed only relative information, in context. Raising from a forward stance to crane, she let the whip drop, letting the sparks fly loose and land where they may across the ground.

Charging once more, she repeated the process of spinning Akira, alternating which side he was on with each step and building the momentum of it. As she approached, she slung him under her arm and over her neck once more, wheeling around to strike at Harrison's back, right shoulder blade, ducking and pulling Akira to her as quickly as she could, retracting the chain in the process.