Fighting the Blind [Stitch]

[Iasc]

15th of Fall, 510 A.V.

Iasc raised his fist to knock on the door. Once again he looked at the number on the door to make sure he had the right one. The last thing he wanted was to disturb someone who didn't want to be disturbed. Maybe the man who was behind this door, the person he had been sent to see, didn't want to be disturbed. Iasc did not want to annoy a man who, according to the many people he had talked to, was a very proficient fighter and could probably beat Iasc into another city if it so pleased him. He banished that thought from his mind quickly though, for he had also been told that this Stitch, "yes; that's his name I think", was a very nice person, and it wasn't in a nice person's nature to just hit someone if they annoyed them. However, there was always that little niggling feeling of doubt that always seemed to fester in his mind
Slowly, he lowered his hand and stepped back from the door, unable to bring himself to knock.

He could feel the sweat beginning to form on his brow. He wiped it off but more came to replace it. He left it alone since it was only a small bit, not enough to be noticeable. Suddenly, his stomach began to feel as if is was twisting around itself. He had been expecting this. These were the two symptoms of his nervousness, the nervousness he always felt when meeting a new person.
The sensation in his stomach was not a painful one, more frustrating. It made him feel awkward about everything he did, as if he couldn't do anything right.

Iasc walked up the road a bit and then back to the door. It must have been about the fifth time he had stood in front of it. “This is stupid”, he muttered to himself. He lifted his fist again, purposefully this time, and knocked on the door three times. He stood back and put his hands in his pockets. He was wearing black trousers and a white t-shirt, both loose fitting, and he was also barefoot. He felt that this would be the most appropriate way to dress for what was about to come.
He thought again about the people who had directed him here. They all seemed to display quite a bit of reverence towards the man though none of them would tell Iasc why. He felt as though they were hiding something from him but couldn't figure out what. Each person he talked finished their respective conversations with the same smile, as if to say, “aren't you in for a shock.”
Honestly, Iasc didn't know what to expect from behind the door, and part of him was wishing that the door wouldn't open at all.

[Stitch]

Stitch was out with the children, playing a simple game of catch in the backyard. It was perhaps the easiest distraction he had to keep the kids in line, as every single one of them seemed to enjoy tossing the little rubber ball about. Stitch had been able to keep them happy for hours with this, at least once upon a time. Throwing the ball incredibly high, bouncing it quickly along the ground... Stitch could throw a variety of challenges into the mix, and they seemed to adapt to each one quite well. They eventually had started to call for him to throw faster, or higher, or maybe bounce it off a wall to them. Now, each and every one of the children were passing the ball back in forth in a dazzling display of speed and coordination, so fast that even Stitch was having a hard time keeping up with the ball. They had obviously played this game way too much. Even Trish, the youngest of the group, was managing to baffle Stitch with her blazing fast tosses. He was getting a bit awkward with the ball, and was actually managing to fall a bit behind. The fact that he was getting flustered wasn't lost on the children, who only started to hurl it even faster, perhaps adding on a bit of spin when directed at Stitch. Their smiles were obvious, the little buggers. Even though Stitch was a bit irritated that he was getting bested at a game of petching catch, he was happy to see that they were having fun. They could definitely use some fun, as of late. The defining moment of the game occured right when a loud knock echoed through the house, and right to Stitch's sensitive ears. Starting suddenly, having been focused on trying to follow the Aura of the little ball, Stitch jerked his head toward the source of the noise. Right then, the ball flew at him, smacking him hard in the stomach. He doubled over, letting out a rather high-pitched yelp, not really as hurt as he was surprised. The children exploded into giggle fits, winking at each other, proud they had managed to best their mentor at something. Stitch mumbled under his breath, trying to hide the smile attempting to break out over his features, attempting to look sullen at his loss. "This one will be right back, rascals. Don't think you have won. This one was merely going easy on you." The children chortled, nodding at him, rolling their eyes at each other. Damien quickly moved to grab the ball, and they resumed their little game as Stitch headed around the house. He took the alleyway that ran down the side of the house, instead of opting to go through the actual Orphanage. He wanted to avoid seeing the burnt wood, and smelling the charred scent in the air. It brought back memories that he had just managed to push back down, and he didn't want to feel them rising up once more. The newcomer's Aura drifted into sight as Stitch moved closer, even though he had not quite exited the alleyway yet. He paused, wanting to get an idea of who the guest was before he made an appearance. Was it someone he knew, or a stranger? From what he could tell, peering at the Aura through the corner of the Welcome Home, the man was a stranger. An extremely nervous stranger. Stitch couldn't help but chuckle quietly to himself, watching the man pace back and forth in front of the door. Who exactly had directed him to Stitch's door, and what exactly had they told him about Stitch? Satisfied with his brief scan of the man's Aura, he took a step forward, intent on meeting and greeting the newcomer. But not in any kind of normal way. Of course not. Where would the fun be in that? Stitch made sure to make his appearance sudden, and loud. Leaping from the side alleyway, he landed right besided Iasc, who was still staring nervously at the door. Raising his arms high, he let out a single loud word. "BOO!" He shouted it at the top of his lungs, startling even a few passerby. Directly after, Stitch would lower his arms, offering one hand for a handshake, as if nothing had ever happened. "Hello, milord. This one is known as Stitch. And you are...?" Stitch stood tall, hand outstretched, a happy little smile on his face. He looked like a normal man, except for one thing. White bandages were wrapped around his eyes, hiding the damaged orbs from the world around him. To all outward appearances, he was quite blind.

[Iasc]

Iasc continued to wait patiently at the door. He sighed loudly and looked down either end of the street. “How long is it customary to wait at a door before leaving if nobody answers”, he found himself wondering. He took a step to the side, getting ready to leave. “Doesn't matter anyway. It's not something I need to learn. I can just read a few books to pick it up. That's worked for me in the past.” He shrugged and turned to leave. At that moment a loud noise came through his ear and reverberated many times inside his head. He began to fall backwards, but threw a foot behind and managed to stay upright, if only for a second. Before he knew it he was lying spread eagle on the ground wondering what had just happened.

He lifted his head slowly and raised himself to sitting position. One good thing about the shock was that it seemed to have cured his nervousness somewhat.
"Hello, milord. This one is known as Stitch. And you are...?"
“So this is Stitch”, Iasc thought to himself. The man before him was tall, the two would stand about the same height, with black hair and a slim, yet athletic build. He seemed quite ordinary to look except for one thing. He had white bandages wrapped around his eyes.
Iasc gazed at the bandages curiously. “Could he be blind? Must be. Why else would a person wear bandages like that. Although, how could he fight blind? He must have great perception with his other senses.” With a shrug and a smile the man jumped to his feet, a little too enthusiastically it seemed for he landed awkwardly and very nearly fell back onto the ground. He managed to save himself this time by placing a hand on the floor and levering himself up.
He decided to dismiss the man's greeting as no more than an eccentricity. He did not need a new enemy and didn't know how sensitive Stitch would be to any kind of criticism or joking at his expense.

When he had once again regained his composure he shook Stitch's outstretched hand. “My name is Iasc. It is very nice to meet you.” He talked in a friendly tone and with a smile on his face, not that Stitch would know, but it was nice to be nice regardless.
“I was directed to your door being told that you are a very good martial arts fighter. I was wondering if, perchance, you would teach me some of what you know. I would be honored if you could”, he spoke hopefully and sincerely, not wanting to offend the man. “If you accept I would be glad to pay you or even teach you something in return.”

[Stitch]

Stitch yelped as the man began to fall backwards, and he leapt forward, flailing in an attempt to catch the poor fellow. His hands swooped in to catch the man just a second too late, and Iasc was suddenly on the ground, sprawled out in shock. Stitch's face went white, as he realized his childish joke might have been a little over the top. He simply stood there in surprise, magical eyesight gazing down at the man. He had basically just ambushed the stranger. Quickly recovering, Stitch extended a hand down to the man, stuttering out a quick apology. "This one is so sorry, milord! This one noticed you were feeling a little nervous about knocking on this one's door, so this one decided to try and break the ice a little bit! This one really is sorry, this one simply acts a little too much like a child sometimes. This one supposes it is because this one hangs out with them so much, but that is no excuse." Stitch bowed his head, a bright blush rising to his cheeks as he rattled out the hurried words. He was very much like a small child. He looked like a little boy who had just been caught doing something naughty. Iasc seemed determined to get up by his own power, and he quickly hopped from the ground, nearly stumbling back down in the process. Stitch wanted to chuckle at the man's rather amusing awkwardness, but he knew that now wasn't the time. He had already greeted the man in a rather insane kind of way, and he was lucky the man was accepting it in good humor. Best not to press his luck. He simply stood there as the man examined him for a moment, his attentions obviously focused at his eye bandages. Apparently he was new in town, or wasn't really familiar with the orphanage owner. Stitch supposed this shouldn't be a surprise. A mere blind man wouldn't be that exciting of news, even if there was a rumor that he could magically see. The handshake was given, and Iasc quickly stated his request. Stitch cocked his head to the side, mentally studying the man. Apparently he was somewhat renowned inside the castle walls. But for martial arts? Anyone who knew that he practiced those arts likely knew that he was blind too. And they hadn't warned the man? Or maybe they had, and he was just shocked to actually find out it was true. As Stitch studied him a bit more, he lightly shook his head, reforming his first impression of the good sir. He wasn't really shocked. He was just curious at first, and then he had accepted it as a normal thing. What a nice, open-minded gentleman! Stitch allowed a smile to finally blossom across his face, and he nodded, beaming brightly at Iasc. "This one would be happy to teach you a little self defense, milord. You don't even have to repay this one. Simply gaining a new friend, and getting to practice the martial arts... That is enough of a reward. Here, follow this one." Stitch motioned for the man, and led him around the same way Stitch had just came from. The little side alleyway led down the west wall of the orphanage, to the backyard. It was a nice little backyard, with a playset, a few toys laying about, and four children playing ball. There were three girls, and one boy, each of them pausing as Stitch led the new visitor around the side and into the fenced play area. "Children, this is Milord Iasc. Milord, this is Fentya, Trish, Clarissa, and Damien." Stitch pointed at each of the children in turn. Damen saluted, Trish and Clarissa blushed and smiled, and Fentya gave a curt little nod. "Fentya, could you take them inside for a moment? Milord wishes to learn a bit of martial arts, and this one wishes to pay him the honor of a private lesson." Fentya nodded, and quickly began to herd the children, leading them inside the house as they all stared curiously at Iasc. Stitch turned to the man, the warm smile still wide across his features. "Why does Milord want to learn? And is there something specific you wish this one to teach you?"

[Iasc]

Stitch definitely had a unique personality. He seemed to be caught in limbo between man and child, looking like a full grown man but acting and talking like a little boy. His manner of speech was almost as strange as the bandages he wore. He spoke like a child, not really referring to himself in first or even third person. “This one”, he called himself, as though constantly referring to another person beside him who couldn't speak for himself.

A puzzled look crossed Iasc's face as he followed his host down the side alley of the orphanage. He couldn't quite make up his mind about Stitch. Not sure whether to trust him or be slightly cautious. His gut told him to tread warily for behind the playful mask there could be something more sinister.
An over the top greeting, a strange tongue and a refusal to accept his offer of payment for helping him out. These were three things that Iasc had not expected. They seemed to contradict his view of how people should act around strangers. He had no time to contemplate it, however, as they had just emerged into a garden.
Iasc looked around longingly, a smile crossing his face. How he would have loved somewhere like this to play as a child. He would have had fun here.

The four children stopped playing with their ball when the men stepped into the garden. Yet again Stitch managed to astonish Iasc. Not only did he know how many children there were but he knew their names, without seeing them. As he was being introduced to them, all he could do was lift his right hand as a greeting, since he was rooted to the spot and speechless, unable to get his head around the man.
Iasc watched the small children dutifully obey Stitch, turning with them as they made their way into in the house. When they were inside he turned back to the blind man.

“I wish to learn the art of self-defense”, he said when he got his voice back. “For meditative reasons more than anything I suppose. I want to be able to control my mind better. I also plan on taking a long trip soon so I should be able to defend myself at close range.”

He quickly looked to where the children had gone into the orphanage and then turned back to Stitch. “Can you see?” He asked rather bluntly, unable to keep it in any longer. The question had made sense in his head but once he heard it leave his mouth he realised how stupid he must have sounded. “Of course you can't see with bandages tied around your eyes”. He quickly corrected his question. “What I mean is, without the bandages would you be able to see?” He hardly needed to ask the question for he knew the answer already. He was just amazed by the man and his ability to perceive what Iasc thought, no more than five chimes before, a person needed eyes for.

[Stitch]

Stitch watched the children as they filed inside the house, a fond smile crossing his face. He was proud of them for dealing with the fire. They had managed to come out of it unscathed, and it appeared that their innocent minds weren't too much worse for the wear. They had been upstairs most of the time, and hadn't seen as much horror as they could have. Clarissa was the one he had worried about the most, but it appeared as if she was doing okay too. Perhaps he had Priskil to thank for that. He wasn't completely sure, though. Appearances could be decieving. He was giving them a little time for themselves, letting them deal with their own thoughts before he introduced his. In a few days, he would confront them about what had happened, and they could talk it through. That was what he thought was best, anyways. The blind man was distracted for a moment, but as soon as Iasc spoke to him, his attentions were brought back to the present. He lightly tilted his head toward the man, turning to face him, letting Iasc know that he was now Stitch's focus. He nodded slowly at Iasc's reasoning, and quickly responded. "That sounds like a good reason to me, milord. This one originally learned martial arts as a means of meditation and self-discipline, but it did quickly turn into a method of self-defense. This one supposes that was what it was originally designed to be, anyways." He gave Iasc a bright smile, moving about the backyard, lightly kicking toys out of their way in order to clear a small space. "This one isn't as good at the meditation part as he used to be, but this one does think that constant practice is a form of meditation, in it's own right. This one hopes what he has to teach will be of some use, in both goals you are seeking." Iasc was quick to ask the next question, and Stitch couldn't help but let a light smile play across his face, one of simple amusement. He noticed how awkwardly the man blurted out the question. Stitch was rather proud of him for asking it so quickly, really. It was usually the first question that most people thought of, in some form or another. Most were too timid to ask it, and from what Stitch could percieve of the man's Aura, this one was just as timid as any other. Perhaps more so, from the way he had acted at the door. Stitch hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to go about phrasing his answer, wondering if any mention of magic might upset the man. Stitch had originally been quite naive about his Auristics, and hadn't really seen the magic as a bad thing. It had helped him see, after all. He had quickly learned that this world wasn't one that was very accepting of magic though. Mizahar, or what he knew of it, seemed to approach magic with a healthy dose of suspicion and caution. That was likely for the best, really. Stitch knew that magic could harm. He practiced the Flux, after all. In the end, he decided the honest route was the best path to take, and answered Iasc's question truthfully. "This one is blind, milord. This one is assuming that is what you want to know? If this one were to take off the bandages, you would be quick to see two blind eyes, damaged by events that happened long ago. This one simply wears the bandages to protect his eyes from the elements." Stitch motioned around the air, referring to the weather around them. "Sun, snow, rain, and all of that. How this one can see... Well, it is an art known as Auristics. A magical art. It allows one to 'see' magical Auras. Basically, like fire gives off smoke, everything gives off an Aura. This one can see it. It is rather hard to explain, and this one apologizes." True to his word, Stitch offered Iasc an apologetic smile, feeling bad about being unable to explain his art. The only ones who truly understood it were other magic users. Trying to explain magic to a normal person was like trying to explain cold to fire. It simply didn't exist for the other. "Anyways! Milord still wishes to learn, even after finding out that this one is a sorcerer?" Stitch tried to joke about the topic, stepping back a little bit, suddenly bending into a stance. "Here, copy this. It is the most basic of stances, and it is quite focused on defense. The body is turned sideways, making it as small as possible to your attacker. The knees are lightly bent, putting you on the ready. Your feet are set in a position that allows you to dance back, out of trouble. And your hands are close to your face, in order to help you automatically ward off blows." Stitch suddenly snapped both hands inwards, bringing them past each other. If there had been an arm between them, it would have lightly been snapped, had his muscle been into it. He settled into the stance again, and this time quickly swept his hands in an imaginationary circle, revolving them out and back in. "This is just an example of how one could block blows in this stance. A simple punch would be caught, and the arm or wrist would be wrenched... Or, with the second method, the punch would simply be sharply deflected." Stitch showed both blocks again, keeping each of his movements slow so Iasc could see. "Really though, this one's style isn't completely focused on standing there and redirecting a blow. Sometimes you have no choice but to stand there, but usually... You want to move. That is what the stance is for, truly. The feet are positioned in such a way that you can sidestep." Stitch suddenly blurred to the side, turning as if to face a passing attacker. "If they reach out and try and grab you, move. If they try and tackle you, move. In all situations, you want to get your body out of harm's way. Move, and then redirect or attack them. But always move. Always get out of the position that puts you in the most danger, which is in their way. Make sense?" Stitch sidestepped a few more times, dancing side to side, keeping his hands up the whole time. "Basic stance." He finally stilled, once more showing his positioning.

[Iasc]

“Another person who practices magic”, Iasc thought to himself. “That's two in one week now.” Throughout his life Iasc had never been acquainted with any so called sorcerers until the week before this when he met a man named Guido in the Rearing Stallion. It was a chance meeting but he made a new friend from it. Guido studied Reimancy and Glyphing and now, thanks to Stitch, Iasc had heard about a third kind of magic, Auristics, and this one seemed to be the most interesting of the lot.
“Like a fire gives off smoke, everything gives off an aura.” Iasc repeated the words to himself a few times. From that one sentence many questions came into his head: What is an aura? If I have an aura, surely I should be conscious that I have one, unless it is hidden deep within a part of me that I cannot access. Now that I know I have an aura can I even be aware of what it is?
It was quite clear that Stitch didn't mean the word 'see' in the usual sense. He must have some other way of perceiving it, a sixth sense perhaps, something to acquire the knowledge that these intangible things, for lack of a better word, give off.
Iasc couldn't help but feel that magic was calling out to him. Asking him to study it. It couldn't be coincidence that in all the years he had lived on this land the idea of magic had never even crossed his mind, not even once, and in one week he had learned about many different types. He heard the voice inside his head snigger mockingly. He sighed inaudibly, focusing back on Stitch.

Iasc watched as Stitch demonstrated the basic stance, quickly analyzing the in's and out's of it; so quick in fact that Iasc had trouble hearing all of it. “Body sideways, knees bent, feet dance, hands face,” he mumbled to himself, starting to get a little confused as he tried to quickly unravel what the words meant.
The speed at which Stitch moved was impressive. He seemed to be very light on his feet and in control of his movements as he danced around demonstrating the block techniques and how to move. Suddenly, Iasc began to feel very happy that he picked this man to be his teacher and also very glad that he wasn't fighting against him.

Still mesmerized by Stitch's showing, Iasc tried to tackle the stance himself. He decided to attempt the easy parts first and put his hands just in front of his face and turned his body sideways. Next, he bent his knees slightly before taking a deep breath. Slowly, he positioned his right foot so it pointed towards the blind man, then moving his left foot so it made a ninety degree angle with his right. Next, he decided to move onto the balls of his feet. This felt like the natural thing to do if he wanted to move quickly. He began to bounce up and down cautiously, and then pivot using his right foot as an anchor.
As he moved his left foot from side to side he managed to let his right foot lose it's position and he stumbled, losing his stance. Determined not to fail at the first thing that was shown to him by the kind man, Iasc repositioned himself, with more confidence this time, back into the stance. As he set his feet in place he realised that this was nearly the same as the oblique stance he was practicing in archery. All he had to do was turn his body sideways slightly. Knowing this made the task much easier for him.

Iasc stood proudly in front of Stitch waiting for the man to inspect him, not daring to try anything fancy this time.

[Stitch]

Stitch nodded his approval, beaming a smile at the man, and letting off a little chuckle as Iasc nearly fell on his face. Iasc was a bit awkward, but it wasn't an obstacle that they couldn't overcome. With a little training, anyone could turn awkward movements into graceful ones. Stitch had been one of those kinds of people, a very long time ago. He used to trip over blades of grass. Now though, several years later, here he was, more skilled than ever. He liked to think he had gotten a bit more graceful. Iasc would become more graceful too. He was sure of it. "Very good, milord. Do not worry about the stumble. Trying to move as fast as this one did is quite likely to get your legs all tangled up. This one does have one word of advice, though." Stitch stepped forward suddenly, and just like that, shot out a single foot in a violent snap kick. The toe of the boot stopped inches from Iasc's knee, and if the man would remember, he would note that Stitch had just attacked his pivot leg. "Don't leave this leg down, as a pivot. Then, your movement is restricted, and it makes a wonderful target for an experienced opponent. Move both legs at once, in little dashes from side to side. Shuffles, perhaps." Stitch pulled his kicking leg back, and then simulated the kick again, this time from several different angles. "Just don't leave yourself planted in one spot. Keep light on your feet, and keep moving. Don't leave a target." Stitch pulled back his foot, crossing his arms, cocking his head at Iasc and giving the man a bright smile. "Otherwise, you did quite well!" Stepping back, Stitch held up his hands, clenching them into tight fists on either side of his face. "This one is going to throw some slow punches. Just do what you saw this one do earlier. Hold the stance, and slide to the side, away from the punch. Don't get distracted, and watch it. Keep aware of it, but don't focus on the fist. Watch for the next attack, and dodge that one too. Remember, whole body movements." Stitch paused for a moment, giving Iasc time to gather his bearings and understand the instructions, and then lightly threw a sluggish punch. It was a close-fist right straight, aimed directly at Iasc's jaw. It would be fairly easy to dodge. Meanwhile, Stitch focused on Iasc's aura again, keeping a close watch on his mental condition. He was watching for any drops in confidence, any fear, any focus. Everything that pertained to the current training, Stitch kept an eye on. If the boy got too confident, Stitch would gently put him in his place. If he lost focus, Stitch would force him back into it. If he started feeling a bit down about his meager skills, Stitch would praise him. His Auristics let him see so much, and he had to decided to try and work it into his training methods. Hopefully the idea would work. Right now, Iasc seemed fine. Excited, and looking for praise... But fine. He was like an eager little puppy, really.

[Iasc]

Iasc listened for the word of advice. “Anything to make me better”, he thought to himself. “I'll do anything.” He was surprised by his resoluteness, but also very determined in himself to do whatever it would take. The words of advice that Stitch had mentioned never came. Instead, the blind man seemed to lash out at Iasc's leg. A sudden violent kick that was aimed straight for his knee. The motion was so swift, so smooth, so fast that Iasc hardly had time to process what was happening. All he knew, as he saw Stitch move foreword, was that he was in for a world of pain. He had already seen the man move at lightning speed, and been warned not to do it himself. He braced himself for the inevitable, praying to any god who would listen that he should escape still being able to use his legs. He tried to plant his feet firmly in the ground knowing it too late to get out of the way. It was coming, he could feel it, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He watched, eyes wide with fear, as Stitch brought his foot just short of Iasc's knee. He felt relief flood his body, thankful for the man's auristic ability. The fabled advice then came, and Iasc made sure that he would forever heed it, lest he be split in two by an angry man with a grudge. Slowly but surely he regained feeling in his legs and hesitantly began shuffling from side to side, as Stitch had suggested. Iasc braved the next few mock kicks and came through the other side without a scratch. He was visibly shaken from what has happened but he gave a nod, accepting the compliment trying to portray braveness as best he could while knowing that Stitch would be able to sense his fear, whether he wanted the man to or not.

Iasc took a moment to compose himself. He shook out his limbs and tried to focus his mind on the task at hand. “Breath in through the nose and out through the mouth”, he told himself. When he was ready he regained his stance just in front of Stitch. The first punch was very slow, giving Iasc a lot of time to decide what to do. As it came towards his face he moved his upper body to the side. The punches were all quite slow and caused Iasc little trouble. Once or twice he was caught napping, his mind wandering for a moment. He also struggled sometimes to think about the next strike, as Stitch had told him to do. He occasionally got stuck in two minds, unable to differentiate between the current punch and the next one. All in all, he felt as though he was doing well. He tried moving his feet as much as possible, constantly staying on his toes, shuffling to the left, coming back to the right, trying not to be predictable.
He seemed to have recovered well from his early scare and was feeling better about himself, perhaps getting a bit over confident, for he jumped to side well out of the reach of Stitch's fist so he was facing the man's side. He let out a broad smile, testing the blind man's ability to read his aura. Arrogance in his ability to dodge the punches seemed to have gotten the better of him.

[Stitch]

Iasc started out rather awkward, shuffling from side to side, his aura flooding with insecurities. Stitch kept that light smile on his face, just slowly punching at the air, getting Iasc used to the slow motion. As time went on, and more punches were dodged, and the insecurities of the man slowly faded. His footing became more sure, and he started to dodge Stitch's slow motion punches much quicker, also putting a lot more space inbetween him and the fist. He was speeding up, and eventually, he sped up to the point where he swept around to Stitch's far side. Stitch quirked an eyebrow, his grin widening just a bit, bemused at the current state of the man. He had actually gone from scared and awkward, to confident and proud, all in a matter of about five seconds. Stitch dropped his fists, not yet turning to face the man. "Very good, milord. You seem to have the basics down. Most hand blows will be dodged by going to either side, then catching or redirecting the oncoming fist, or wrist. You want to get control of the opponent, because a skilled opponent will be fast, and he will be able to get up close. Then, sliding side to side doesn't work as well as it has here." Stitch threw out another slow punch, making sure he threw it with the correct form. One wasn't supposed to tighten the muscles, which was a major mistake of most. You had to throw the punch, and then when it connected, the muscles would tighten for you. Twist at the wrist, twist the arm just a little bit as you threw it... Stitch practiced the basic principles in a good punch everytime he threw one, just so Iasc would be able to see good form. Eventually he would pick up on it. The punch sluggishly sliced the air, heading for Iasc's jaw, but possibly at a speed that was even slower than the previous punches. Stitch predicted Iasc would move, and as soon as he did, he yanked that fist back and flashed out another punch. They would now steadily come, one after the other, aimed at the very far side of his face, barely grazing him if he bungled up. They were still slow, but they were managing to pick up speed, one after the other. The minute Iasc fell into a pattern of dodging, if he did, Stitch would take advantage of the pattern. Flinging a punch that would intercept his next shuffle to the side, Stitch would simply scare the man, pausing it an inch before it connected with the nose. "Dodging is good, but you can't dodge forever. You will get stuck in a pattern, or your foe will eventually think of methods to stop you with. You must get control from the very start of the fight, and the most simple form of control starts with grabbing the attacking wrist as it passes you." Stitch nodded at his still-outstretched hand, signaling for Iasc to take it.