[u]Eyeris and athanshadow[/u]

Carl was left to stay behind and guard the living room. A duty that he took very seriously. He posted himself on the couch, which was not only the most comfy, but had a particularly good vantage of every entrance. He laid his head down on the arm rest and took a nap.

Magara had heard them call her name to be paired with Brookes, but had not quite believed it until she was physically nudged away from the wall and into place. The floor of the training room was different from the rest of the base, slightly squishier. She pushed her toes into it nervously.

Sparring without powers. Magara wished she could turn her powers 'off'. She was acutely aware when a presence approached and stood across from her. "Brookes...?" She inquired. She wanted to apologies for him for her own shortcomings. Hopefully her fellow titan would land a blow and get this all over with quickly.

Brookes' heart was already racing and when he heard his and his opponents name called again, Mag, it dropped even more. How could he fight a blind girl? That was probably against some weird law. And even more so against his morals. He walked up onto the mat and looked her right in the eyes despite the fact that she was blind. "Uh...yea." He wanted to apologize just as much but felt it would just make him look stupid. Already though, a plan was forming in Brookes' head. "I know this sounds dumb but could we shake hands?"

“Okay…” Mag held out her right hand toward his presence and his voice. He might have found her’s to have a sweaty palm. The room was full of nerves, including her own.

Brookes firmly grasped her hand, pulling her in for a sort of hug. He whispered in her ear as his fairy dust left his body and crept along his arm and onto hers before it lightly dissolved into Mag’s skin. “Don’t be afraid. You’re going to win.” He whispered as he stepped backwards, assuming what he thought looked like a good sparring stance. He felt slightly regretful for a moment when he realized he was throwing the game to a blind girl. When he loses, he was most likely going to be ridiculed for losing to a blind girl.

Magara shivered as he came close, whispering, he had conflicting feelings which made him difficult for the young empath to pin down. “You don’t have to humor me…” She said as he stepped away, she felt his presence now only a few paces away, wrestling with the regret and embarrassment caused by their circumstances. He really was trying to be nice. “I’ve never fought anyone before. Never mind the--” She paused, she needed to make some sort of ‘stance’. She lifted her thin arms and made small fists. The placement was far from ideal, her elbows far too high and her arms crossed at strange angles. 

“No one expects me to do this.” She told the fairy-boy. That was the truth of it. Her whole life was a series of events that others carried her through. No one expected her to accomplish anything for herself. She didn’t struggle against the flow, she was obedient and did what was expected of her. If she did that then she would not be so much of a burden on others. She learned very early that all she had to do to please them was keep out of the way, stay quiet, and ‘wait right here for now dear’ and there she would wait, even if they forgot she was there.

Then she felt something new. She felt herself begin to tingle, first in her hand where she had touched Brookes, then it swept down her arms and into her body. Her breath would catch as she felt Brooke’s presence flare and expand before her, then, [i]contract[/i] and focus itself.

Where once Brookes was an airy cloud before her, now he was specific and certain. She still perceived that vague aura around him, but now he was a shape, [i]his[/i] shape. She could distinguish arm and hand, leg and head, heartbeat and breath. She was also able to block out anyone else in the room, no stray feelings or presences would distract her now.

“What are you doing?” She wondered if this was Brookes’ power, emanating from him, making him more [i]vivid[/i]?

“That’s not me that’s you.” He enjoyed the look of confusion that crossed the younger girl’s face.

Magara shifted a bit. Subconsciously copying his stance. Which, she assumed, was correct. "Me?" She wondered why this would be happening now. Was it something on the bagels?

"Go on. Fight me!" His nerves were gone, he jumped lightly on his toes despite the fact that using his dust to make Magara stronger was slowly wearing him out. Excited. His remorse for fighting the disabled girl was gone, replaced by excitement and the satisfaction of helping another. 

So she did it just as he asked, her own remorse faded with his. The confidence he felt fed her own. Magara took three steps forward and swung her fist toward her fist as hard as she could. 

She didn’t expect anything to come of the action. He’d be able to see her coming after all. And there was no way she’d have any accuracy or str--

She felt her fist connect, as Brookes stumbled backwards she could hear him mutter “Ouch” under his breath. She felt pain blossom in her cheek and in her fist (which was not tightened or set properly) "What did I just do?" She knew the answer, she had sore knuckles and Brookes had a sore cheek. She had never hit anyone before in her life, not on purpose anyway. She did not even feel as if she had done so now, it felt like an accident.

But it wasn’t.