Fighting the Dying Light [Amon/Kabuto]

Amon had spent the day training, focusing his energy into attacks for damage other than physical. Here and there when he really pushed himself there were flickers of deep blue and dark green sparks, a pude compared to the afro and dreadlock crotch energies everyone else had- but hey! It was progress! He signed after another rep of sword swinging… Very intricate sword swinging but nonetheless he was hellbent on finding his own style of fighting with a broadsword. Why couldn't he get a fucking katana?! Shit, he could have done more with a rusted needle than the shit show he produced. All the trials and errors he suffered thus far, missions, training, and more or less getting his ass kicked in Amon thought something had to give! Compared to other members who seemed to climb up quite fast, he was still stuck at a beginner's level or what was considered as such. What was he doing wrong?

The Texas Shinigami, or Texas Reaper as he thought that was a cool name, turned down the country music coming from his stereo, more specifically a lot of Garth Brooks, Lonestar, and a little bit of Shania Twain and the Dixie Chicks. If one thing made him happy it was that there were still old radio stations that played older music between the 1970's up till 2100's. That was a great time for good music, not like the crap they put out nowadays. Moving on from the subject he was getting distracted by, Amon refocused his efforts on trying to figure out his lack in power, his Asauchi which only spoke from time to time, and of course, the odd mark he had on his neck.

Ever since he was beaked from a certain scuffle between him, Hanako and Arkin, an odd black circle appeared on the left side of his neck, which the medical staff didn't put there, the Fourth didn't place it there either and it certainly was no bruise. Oh well, he'll figure out what the hell it was as he went. Amon turned his head slightly to the sound of approaching footsteps, he felt their energy- different and unfamiliar than everyone he's met this far, when he faced the individual nonchalantly his brow raised when the individual approached Amon with a sword out. Ah fuck! The Shinigami put his hands up and said, "Look if you're here for the ring I got the money-"

"You interested in sparring?"

Amon stopped his sentence, froze almost then gave a laugh of relief. Recently he ended up with a wedding ring of sorts that he woke up with in the house. He freaked at first but kept it on him, something about it was familiar, something important. How important? He couldn't remember, he was drunk again! Amon took in a breath then said, "Yeah… Could use a sparring buddy. Name's Amon, Fourth's accountant, you?"

'This guy's packing some weird energy,' Amon thought as he smiled a nodded, taking his place seven to eight feet apart from himself and Kabuto, but despite his confident appearance Amon couldn't shake off the weird feeling of nostalgia and anxiety setting in, 'Keep you eyes on the money, you don't know what this one's all about just yet.'

"Always enjoyed sparring with officers, both current and former," Amon states as he settles into a neutral stance- tension built in his right leg back while light tension built up in his left front, his blade angled toward Kabuto whilst facing the edge of the roof of the Combat Divisions building. This was a way to go both offensive and defensive, for counter and reaction, Amon had been practicing since his spar with Tento and aimed to get better… Why his power hasn't gone up yet he didn't know, "But yeah, a light spar will work."

Amon's skin grew goosebumps, he had an uneasy feeling about this Shinigami… Well assuming he was in fact a Shinigami, his heart pounded in anticipation and excitement but also in underlying concern. This wasn't going to be a normal spar… Or maybe it would. Flash stepping forward, Amon would take the lead and strike first using his longsword. He made a quick diagonal slice from the upper left down to the bottom right but kept that small gap thanks to the length of his blade. What Kabuto would do would lead to the next series of steps and choices.

Normally Amon was able to properly continue with an assault, and normally his assault would be countered, but in this case it was different. When their blades collided the Shinigami felt like his arm hit a solid wall, it stiffened, and that's when he realized the problem. The "problem" was that Amon was still weak as hell, whereas Chad Kabuto was likely about to smash the younger Shinigami into a pile of dust. Or not, while the opponent moved fast it was only as fast as Amon could track… Much like a spar.

Kabuto came to swing his own weapon which Amon would once again meet the weapon, feeling the stiffness in his arm once more except this time gave a little push. Amon wasted no time, instead boosting his speed just a little higher to turn things up a notch, to see if Kabuto could match him. With a flurry of coordinated swings- the first striking horizontal from the left, second was a quick jab with his blade; and the third he kicked off the ground just slightly and tried an upward diagonal slash more toward Kabuto's shoulder. The attacks were basic at best, simple but allowed Amon to prod and see what Kabuto was all about. Right now it was more play than work.

"The fuc- You didn't miss arm day apparently," Amon said more or less giving a compliment to Kabuto, "You're sturdy, given your… Build, I guess. But how good is your speed?"

"Enough, I think. Enough for us to stop. I think it's my apology." Kabuto's reply caught Amon off guard as the large man used his pommel to knock away the next attack. Amon noted how the silverish being seemed a tad sluggish, more in thought than physically, however they either realized something or he was a slow thinker. Their eyes met for just an instant but Amon could catch the distinct water in Kabuto's eyes. Was he gonna cry? Amon hasn't even started to talk smack, maybe he did more damage than he thought?

What further caught the Shinigami off guard was the immediate surrender and apology of a bow, quickly redirecting his attack and catching his own Asauchi with his free hand cutting it. All to avoid hitting his sparring partner. Now gripping the shorts he had on with his bleeding palm, Amon huffed as he sheathed his Asauchi. Well, practice was cut short today, whatever was going on in Kabuto's mind was beyond the Shinigami, but perhaps the individual was strong and didn't want to hurt the much weaker warrior? It was a guess as good as anyone else's.

"Hey- It's no problem man, I've practiced with the likes of Hanako and Arkin. Word of advice? Please, for the love of God, don't bow while someone's in mid-throw of an attack? I doubt I'd hurt ya but still. Anywho, what's up with you? What uhh… What's the haps?"