oh! gravity [iskander]

[Jennah Raine Advani]

Jennah rubbed the chalk on her hands and looked up at the bar. Some of the chalk dust sprinkled onto her bare thighs and the bottom of her black leotard. She tossed her head to get her black hair out of her face before she dashed forward, always looking up at the white bar. With a powerful spring, Jennah leapt off the floor and towards the bar. Her palms hit it and her fingers wrapped tightly around the bar. Her body swung aound the bar in a full circle from the momentum of the speed and jump. She made herself go around the bar a second time before letting go and flipping to a bar across from her, but placed a little higher from the bar she had previously been swinging on.

And she repeated the process until she got to the top bar, many feet off the ground. She stopped herself at 180 degrees and held herself in a handstand on the bar. Her long black hair hung in her face. Her back as arched beautifully, but her arms shook a little. It'd been a while since she did this. When she lived with the circus, she did this every day. She bit her lip; she shouldn't have taken so long of a break from her acrobatics.

She could always build herself back up again. And she would. It wouldn't take long. Jennah's body was strong and she had years of experience...years that exceeded her 17 years in this body.

As she held herself in the handstand, she carefully walked on her hands back and forth on the bar. She couldn't help but remember doing like something like this in the days of when she was known as Wang. She did all sorts of crazy stunts when she was Wang. Even crazier than circus stunts. At least with the circus, there's a net below you and you know you won't die from falling. When she was Wang, the possibility of death always accompanied her stunts...but that's what made her stunts more fun.

She leaned back a bit, purposely throwing off her balance and letting her whole body fall back as she held onto the bar. She swung a full circle around the bar again, a smile working it's way onto her face. Things like these....simple things made Jennah happy.

But then, she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Someone. Surprised, her grip on the bar loosened...which was a big mistake. Her grip slipped entirely and Jennah found herself falling. She didn't scream, however. Falling was something she was used to. Falling was how she died many years ago. Thankfully, this time, she knew there would be a mat to break her fall...instead of stone to kill her like last time.

Being an acrobat in the circus, the first thing Mama and Papa taught her was how to fall. Accidents happen...even with professionals. Knowing how to fall was key. It could save you from injury and even death at times. Jennah's feet hit the mat, but her knees instantly buckled and she fell onto her rear...then back. Her head slammed against the padded ground. She laid on her back for a bit, starting up at the ceiling. Her cheeks flushed pink gently. If someone had been watching her, she no doubt looked like a fool now.

[/font]

WORD COUNT: 566
LYRICS: None yet...i was too lazy to make this fancy. i'll do it later
LISTENING TO: my audition music
COMMENTS: this sucks. i apologize

[/center]

[Iskander Rafel Azizi]

After school. Normally, Iskander would be biking home. But frankly, he didn't always. Some days he'd use the school fitness center, just to keep in shape. He didn't have anyone to do this with, but he went well enough on his own, and pondered the meaning to life. Sometimes quite literally. Did death have a meaning? How did it work? If he died, would he remember this life and the past one? Questions with no answer: not even the brightest of them had worked it out. Sometimes he really did hope some Greek philosopher showed up...maybe he would have some answers. Or at least, a better grasp on it than Iskander would.

Dressed in shorts and a school T-shirt (green with "RIVERDALE HIGH" in blue on it), the young man meandered into the school gym, backpack in hand. He'd throw it down beside the treadmill or something. Typical mundane day, right?

Not exactly. It was then he saw the girl on the bars set out - gymnastics club must have been at it today - and holy crap. She knew what she was doing. He watched her go from bar to bar, flipping with finesse that he hadn't seen among the other gymnasts...wait. Did he recognise her? The young Arab man could swear he'd seen her in a RSOR meeting once, but the name escaped him. She wasn't in his grade, that much he did know; so he hadn't paid attention. Now he was. Her actions were simple, to the point, and yet graceful. She knew what she was doing...almost too well, in fact. He decided to watch, and so sat down on the wooden bleachers, curious. He fiddled with a shoelace a little, but his brown eyes were glued to the figure and her motions.

But then she fell. Odd. She didn't seem like she'd be about to. He got up, leaving his backpack where it was, and walked over. He didn't want to embarrass her, but common sense said to go over and make sure she was okay. Since he could be no means do what he just witnessed, there was no loss of pride on her part. If he couldn't do it, he really had no ability to laugh when she fell; unless she laughed first, and that she didn't seem to be doing. Yes, codes of honor had carried over quite strongly. "Are you alright, Miss?" He asked, no hint of amusement or mocking in his tone. He sounded older than he was, which was typical of him. He didn't ever sound quite like a kid. He always ended up sounding a little off for his peer group. It was less noticeable when his vocab had been small, way back in Brooklyn, but shortly after 9/11 (and mainly just in that time) people started watching him, and he started to watch his speech, because it had seemed to the nine-year-old that everyone would over analyze anything. "I'm sorry if my entrance threw you off or anything along those lines." He offered her a hand up, and a slight smile, which made his slightly hooked nose and stern features look a little less foreboding. "That was quite an amazing performance, by the by. Where did you learn that?"


------------
words| 587
tagged| Jennah / Tina
notes| It is a fine post. Dun worry about it!

[Jennah Raine Advani]

Had she known there'd be an audience, there's no way Jennah would have fallen. She was far to professional for that. She wasn't trying to be conceited, but she knew she was good at what she did and falling was something that just never happened. But the boy had caught her off guard. As she stared at the ceiling, she expected to hear him laugh at her for such an ungraceful fall. However, Jennah heard no laughter, much to her silent delight. Instead she heard him walking over to her. Jennah sat up, twisting around a bit to crack her spine. She winced a bit when she did. That fall was kind of hard.

"Are you alright, Miss?"

Jennah's dark eyes went from his legs (which were at her eye-level) to his face. Her neck hurt a little bit as she looked up, but she ignored the pain, studying his features instead. Olive skin...black hair...dark eyes...she'd seen him before. At an RSOR meeting. Ahh, but his name escaped her. She felt for not remembering his name. She knew he wasn't in her grade, but his face was familiar. She also couldn't help but notice he was attractive (in her opinion, at least), however she didn't dwell on those thoughts. She nodded in responce to his question, giving him a small smile.

"I'm sorry if my entrance threw you off or anything along those lines."

..Wait. How old was this kid? And he spoke like that? Jennah's smile grew wider a little. She was impressed. Such intelligence was rare. Or, at least she figured him to be intelligent because of the way he spoke. However, there are some people in the world who have no brains but still do an awful lot of talking. Jennah took his hand - her hand small and white compared to his olive one - and got back on her feet. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temple as her head throbbed a bit when she stood. "It's okay," She answered him politely,opening her eyes again so she could look him in the eye when she spoke to him, "I shouldn't have been so clumsy."

"That was quite an amazing performance, by the by. Where did you learn that?"

She smiled modestly at the compliment. "Thank you," She said. Then came the second half of his statement. Her eyes glimmered as she thought of her traveling home full of colors, animals, all sorts of food and thrills. She tucked her long, raven-colored hair behind her ear and looked him in the eye again. A bright, involuntary smile worked it's way onto her face when she answered honestly and calmly, "I learned it from my life as an acrobat in a circus with my parents. ...That's also where I learned to fall without getting too hurt." She added at the end.

The circus life. She missed it. Sometimes she craved it, hence is why she came in here to perform flips and all sorts of impressive feats and tricks. She wondered to herself if she would ever go back there and join them once again or if she would become just another black-and-white boring member of society. She hoped that in whatever she chose, she wouldn't live to regret it.

Jennah extended her hand to him. "I'm Jennah," She said to him, "Jennah Advani." She hesitated. Should she say this? ...Ahh. What the hell? What did she have to lose? She tilted her head to the side a bit. "Have we met before?" She asked politely, "Your face is familiar..."

She could have sworn she'd seen him at an RSOR meeting. She wished she could flat out ask him, but in case anyone was near by or listening, it was best to just not mention it. Just in case...

[/font]

WORD COUNT: 637
LYRICS: None yet...i still lazy
LISTENING TO: nothing
COMMENTS:

[/center]

[Iskander Rafel Azizi]

Iskander looked down as she sat up and crackled her spine, meeting her eyes as she looked up at him. Her features were fine, but something about her told the reincarnated sultan not to underestimate her. She was quite pretty, he noted. He had to have seen her before. He just had to have. But still, it escaped him. He smiled back down at her as she smiled up at him, glad she wasn't (or didn't appear to be) angry at his witnessing of the fall. That would make things awkward, moreso if they were passed by each other in hallways or something.

"I don't think you're clumsy at all." He said when she said she shouldn't have been so clumsy. The average Joe would have killed him or herself trying that, let alone managing a proper fall! When she explained where she was form, he nodded. That made a lot of sense, now. She was trained to do what she did, probably from a young age. Still, there was something that was more than her years in her actions. Made sense, if he had seen her in RSOR. Maybe she had been some sort of...ninja or something. Really, he had no flipping clue.

"The circus? That must be quite the life!" Enthusiasm worked its way into Iskander's even voice. He'd always liked great shows of skill like circuses. Well, not so much in a past life, but that had been in a medieval middle east. Not many travelling acrobats there. "I've always wondered what it would be like to live in a circus." He admitted. It probably beat having a hairdresser for a mother, and a father that hated him for his race. Not that there was anything wrong with a hairdresser mother. But it wasn't very eventful. He hadn't seen his father for a very long time, which was good. He knew his knife work, but he really rather not face off with that nutball. In fact, it was good that he didn't have to pick up a scimitar against that sort of person again. The Crusades were over. Sort of. Muslims waged Holy War while the US meddled, not totally without reason...modern crusades, he supposed. Maybe he could carve out a name for himself, but he wasn't going to do it with a scimitar in the twenty-first century. Providing an apocalypse didn't occur, at which point he supposed he was better of than most.

She introduced herself as Jennah, and while he recognised neither the first nor last name, he nodded his head...and then she said she recognised him. Huh. Well, that confirmed it. RSOR, probably. Judging by her trailing off, that was probably the case. "I'm Iskander Azizi." He said with a smile. "I recognise you too, but I can't exactly place it to hallways and the like." He glanced over his shoulder. No one. Deserted.

"RSOR?" He suggested. Row-sir. That's how he said it. To most of the school, it was the most mysterious acronym in the world. He'd once overheard someone suggest they were training people for the FBI. It had made him laugh. What rubbish! They could take over the world if they played their cards right, but he didn't know anyone who wanted to.

----------
words| 605
tagged| Jennah / Tina
notes| nothin' to say. : P

[Jennah Raine Advani]

She wasn't too embarrassed that she fell. The situation was only as embarrassing as she wanted it to be. What would truly be embarrassing would be if she fell and refused to get back up and try again. That would be worth the embarrassment. Jennah did get up...after cracking her back.
There was also no reason to be angry. Is the baby sparrow angry when his mother pushes him out of his nest to fly and he doesn't succeed well? No. He simply keeps going until he is a professional flyer. To error is human and Jennah was as human as anyone else in the world. And she had plenty of errors...such as falling off the bar. However, the errors helped shape and push perfection, so why would she be mad?

"I don't think you're clumsy at all."

She smiled and looked down at her toes modestly. "Thank you," Jennah said, looking back up at the boy, their dark eyes on each other's. "My mom's better than me when it comes to grace...but I hope to reach her level."
In her past life, she'd far surpassed that level. But that was her old body and she could never have it back. She had to train and condition her new body to be like her old one. And she was gradually getting there. Becoming an acrobat - the one she used to be - wasn't an over-night thing. It was more like a over-tons-of-years, thing.

She beamed beautifully at the excitement she heard in his voice as he said, "The circus? That must be quite the life!"

She nodded, obviously proud of her childhood. "It was," She said with a smile. "You see new people everyday...see all kinds of animals and sing and dance. There was all sorts of foods and smells." Sometimes she really did miss it all...

"I've always wondered what it would be like to live in a circus."

"Everyday there's something new...like a chose-your-own adventure, almost," She continued carefully, thinking about her words, "However, that can also be the main con. You don't have a real place to call home because you're never in one spot long enough to get used to it." You can see the world, but you never belong in it. That's how she felt in the circus. She wasn't ungrateful for the life she was given, but still...a 'home'...a real home would be nice. When she was Wang, she lost her home. Once her husband was killed, she no longer stayed at home. She moved around with her men. So, really, Jennah couldn't remember what home felt like.

But she knew that if she were to ever find it, she'd cling to it forever.

"I'm Iskander Azizi."

"Iskander," She repeated with a smile, committing his name to memory. "Pleased to meet you."

"I recognise you too, but I can't exactly place it to hallways and the like."

She smirked a bit and leaned in as he looked over his shoulder. That pretty much revealed it. He, like she, was an RSOR reincarnite. "RSOR?" He confirmed her suspicions.

Jennah gave him a sneaky smile. "Ha," She answered with the Cantonese word for 'yes', accompanied with a nod. Her voice got quiet enough so no one passing could hear them, but loud enough so he could hear her. Her dark eyes never left his as she said softly, "My name is Wang Cong'er."
She tilted her head to the side, her black hair falling into her face. Raising her eyebrows, she asked quietly, "What'sreally your name, Iskander?"

She didn't know about him, but she preferred to go by Jennah. Yeah, she knew her name was Wang...but Jennah was a prettier name than Wang. Lots of names were prettier than Wang...but that was just her opinion and preferance. Also...Jennah was easier to pronounce complared to Wang Cong'er.

[/font]

WORD COUNT: 654
LISTENING TO: this irish song ^_^
COMMENTS: i am so tired

[/center]

[Iskander Rafel Azizi]

Iskander noted how modestly she'd taken his complement, and to be honest, he was impressed. He disliked the cheerleader types that had no sense of modesty. Now granted, some of the stuff they could do did make it perfectly fine to show off a little now and then, but still! Maybe it was his upbringing, past, or any mix of factors but he found it quite endearing when someone accepted a complement well. She looked back up and he examined her eyes. They were quite pretty.

She stated her mother was better at the tricks she'd just done, and he shrugged a little. "With practice, I'm sure you could be." With practice, anything was possible. And if she was a reincarnate, anything was possible; surely the sheer range of people in the society proved that much.

He himself would have liked to practice old skills, but he really had little use for the wielding of a scimitar, riding of a camel, horse, or military tactics. Joining the US army was not a wise idea when you were Arab at a time like this. Politics. Intriguing but quite annoying at times. Poetry and the arts, well, he practiced those at school. What a difference eight hundred years made! His interest was again grabbed when she spoke about the circus, obliging him and talking about it.

Oh, it must have been fun! He could well get used to wandering around the world, if he had any skills that were circus worthy...and that was pretty well zip. Nor did he have the qualities of a wandering hippie, which was not something he aspired to. "I suppose moving about could be a con, but isn't it almost everyone's dream at some point or another to run away with the circus?" He asked with a chuckle. To travel and travel like that; such a life wasn't common anymore. "Riverdale must be quite a change from that."

The conversation seemed quite innocent, all things considering. Talk of a circus, and introductions. But then it changed. It shifted ever so slightly. Each wanted to know who the other really was, as she agreed to RSOR. At least, that was what Iskander assumed. 'Ha' in the laughter context didn't make much sense here, after all. She leaned in closer to him, still meeting his eyes. He kept the eye contact as she re-introdcued herself. Wang Cong'er. Hm...he'd heard the name...ah yes! Chinese general, that was it. Some sort of rebellion, a kung-fu master, swordsman. Quite an impressive set of accomplishments. He smiled and nodded, then was promptly asked who he was.

"Saladin." He replied, just as quietly, using the Western translation of name. His other one people rather often found hard to pronounce, and he was best known by this one, anyhow. Personally, he liked both his names. Both unique. Saladin had the advantage of being short, and it sounded more powerful to him, but Iskander just had that ring to it. Sort of like Alexander, but not exactly, and not some obvious alternate sort of name so that people didn't right away connect the two.

Iskander ended up breaking eye contact first. He looked around the deserted gym, at some track-and-field equipment in the corner. Lo and behold, there were some javelins. "This may not be strictly within any set of rules..." He began quietly, "But It's been eight hundred years since I've had a decent sparring partner, and those javelins look like they'd work quite well." They were longer than what either warrior would be used to, not to mention it broke school rules, but what the hell. These chances did not come about every day. "What do you say?"

---------
words| 690
tagged| Jennah / Tina
notes| -hops-

[Jennah Raine Advani]

"With practice, I'm sure you could be."

She gave him a smile. She knew she could be much better than Latika ever was due to her past life. But Jennah didn't want to be a show off. She nodded slightly and said softly, "Well, time will soon tell, won't it?"
Only time would dictate how good she would be at acrobatics. Still, and not to be conceited but Jennah had no doubt that she would surpass her mentor. But, what would she do with that skill? Where could she use kung fu and her ability to speak Cantonese and Mandarin? How could she use her acrobatic skills? Maybe she could open a dojo? ...Or maybe the circus was the only place for her.

Jennah didn't want to even consider that a possibility. She had to belong somewhere. The world was a big place. She would find somewhere that was meant for her. And she'd have a family. A real one. One that was truly hers. ...Maybe she would find her family. Jennah didn't often talk about it, but she prayed to whichever god that would listen to her, begging for a chance to meet her real mother and father.

"I suppose moving about could be a con, but isn't it almost everyone's dream at some point or another to run away with the circus?"

She laughed gently, looking up at the boy with a smile. "I've never looked at it like that before," She mused, "But I suppose you're right. However, people who run away and join the circus always have a point of origin to turn back to." If you're born into it, what then?

"Riverdale must be quite a change from that."

She nodded and simply said, "It is." Her answer wasn't meant to be rude with it's shortness and she didn't say it rudely. Jennah just didn't think it was necessary to go into detail about how different her new life was. Extra chatter was pointless.
She really did like Riverdale, though. The weather was always nice and she didn't have to worry about packing or getting up early to move to another state the next day.

Though the subject of the conversation change, Jennah's attitude did not. She remained polite and friendly. She smiled when he did and her head tilted to the side gently. "You know of me, then?" She asked. Jennah wasn't asking for the sake of her ego. She was just curious. It wasn't like she found herself in history books...

She did find herself on wikipedia, however, much to her own amusement. She found it funny that she wasn't him many history books, but she did have her very own wikipedia page.

And then he revealed himself.

"Saladin."

The Saladin? The Sultan of Egypt and Syria? She was impressed and it was visible on her face. She had read about him and who he was...a well respected knight and sultan. She gave him a smile and said, "Pleased to meet you, Saladin." She paused, "Is Saladin what you prefer to go by? Or Salâh ad-Dîn Yûsuf ibn Ayyûb? Or strictly Iskander?" She could undestand his reasoning for going by any of those names though she herself would prefer Jennah.

Had she known how impressed he was with her own accomplishments, she would probably blush and modestly thank him once more. She did do a lot for her people, but she had to retreat and committed suicide. He, on the other hand, lived a full life and even won the respect of his enemies.

He broke eye contract and she looked down at her feet again. But when he spoke, she brought her eyes back to his face. It was a sign of respect, but strength. It was bold for a Chinese woman to look a man in the eye so. "This may not be strictly within any set of rules..." He began quietly, "But It's been eight hundred years since I've had a decent sparring partner, and those javelins look like they'd work quite well."

Her dark eyes slid over to the javelins. They were a large weapon compared to what she was used to. Still, it'd been 300 years since she got to spar. She slowly smirked and looks back at Saladin.

"What do you say?"

She didn't verbally answer him. Instead she crouched down and swung her ankle around, sweeping his legs out from under him. Then she got back to her feet and dashed to the javelins. She grabbed hers and then tossed him his. Smirking a bit, she twirled her in front of her and over her head and at her side before gripping it with both hands and pointing it at him. She tossed her head, black hair flying out of her face and a smile tugging at the corner's of her mouth. She couldn't help but show off. It'd been a very long time since she got to have this kind of fun with such a worthy opponent.

[/font]

WORD COUNT: 838
LISTENING TO: Laura - Flogging Molly
COMMENTS:

[/center]

[Iskander Rafel Azizi]

When Jennah said only time would tell about her acrobatics, Iskander only nodded, letting the subject fall. He really had nothing to ad; he knew nothing of acrobatics, he'd only seen it on TV and the like. This was the first time he'd seen anything more than cheer leading or the not-that-great gymnastics club in person. Instead, he pointed his attention to the circus conversation. She had a point, but Iskander wasn't thoroughly convinced. She did have an origin. People were an origin, the circus itself was an origin, not the ground underneath her feet. That world was an origin. The only difference was that the backdrop kept changing, the culture was different.

"But you always have people with you. The world may change, but there are always people. I have a home and a place that won't shift, but I don't have such rich a heritage." He loved his mother, she was his mother, after all, but she worked killer hours and they weren't particularly close. They never went to movies or parks or things when he was a kid, and not that he was eighteen, that was not about to change.

He wanted that rich culture he used to have. A place where arts and culture flourished, even if it was something a little more unusual. "The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence." Iskander admitted with a chuckle. Maybe that was why Riverdale had appealed to her. Iskander didn't know, and he didn't ask. A lot of performers were home schooled, and something had sparked the change. He didn't ask, though. Her answer was short and the question could be personal...

Funny thing about personal questions, though; asking who someone was in a past life could be considered personal, yet for the reincarnates of Riverdale, it was a commonplace, almost mundane, question. "Yes." Iskander nodded when she asked if he knew of her. "I've heard of you here and there." Not a whole lot, but the mention had arisen in history class once, and on the history channel once. He didn't watch that channel often (it was weird to watch the life stories of people that he knew, which did happen), but his mother did. He'd been coming home once when there was some documentary on Chinese history. The dude had mentioned something about a 'rare warrior woman', and Iskander had paused a second to watch.

He, on the other hand, was relatively well known in the Western world. He stated his name and took a short moment of inward ego-stroking when he saw she was impressed. He did what he did in his past life, did what he had to. Bloody fucking crusaders had needed to be taught; and at the end of it, he'd come to respect their leader, a man he regretted never meeting. Maybe he'd be lucky sometime this life, and come face to face with Richard the Lionhearted. Maybe. Iskander smiled when she not only knew, but pronounced rather well, his Arabic name. Impressive. "Iskander. Saladin in private. My name in Arabic is a little long, after all. And yourself?" Jennah was a pretty name, after all. She might prefer it to Wang, but how was he to know?

He offered to spar, and when she was silent, he supposed that it might be a no. That was a pity, if it was - suddenly, she lashed out. Not trained in martial arts, Iskander was solidly hit. She felt himself rushing forwards, but managed to keep from bashing his nose into the gym floor with his hands. "I'll take that as a challenge!" He warned, a glimmer in his eyes. Time for some fun! He hopped back up and caught the javelin expertly, swinging it in a vertical circle to get the feel of its weight and balancing, before falling into an easy stance. He was just remembering what he had to do. This body wasn't as accustomed to a fight, but he would deal with it. After all, neither was hers.

He grinned back at her, ready for finally a decent opponent. He held still for a second, looking every bit the sultan (sans beard) he had been, before moving in for a quick right side feint, javelin in one hand as he then swung around with a butterfly sweep.

-------------
words| 790
tagged| Jennah / Tina
notes| FIGHT! >D

[Jennah Raine Advani]

"But you always have people with you. The world may change, but there are always people. I have a home and a place that won't shift, but I don't have such rich a heritage."

"It's true," She nodded, considering his words, "There are always people around and you can learn many a thing from them, which I suppose could count as a substitute for having a heritage." But Jennah would much rather have a heritage, even a bad one, than have the useless skill of swallowing swords. She kept her polite disagreement to herself now. There was no point in arguing with him, even if there was no bitterness behind it. They both were from different backgrounds with different points of view. They had valid reasons and personal experiences behind both of their points of view, so they were both easily right.

"The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence."

She smiled at him. Nodding she said, "Indeed it is. I suppose it's just human nature to never be satisfied, isn't it?" It was true in her case. She wanted out of the circus and she got it. She was happy in North Carolina, but she wasn't satisfied. Jennah wanted to find her real parents now that she was free from the circus. And if she found them, she'd probably want to meet them. Maybe even be a family again. She wanted a lot. She knew well that her chances of getting any of that would be slim, but she still wanted it.

"Yes." Iskander nodded when she asked if he knew of her. "I've heard of you here and there."

She smiled and couldn't help but turn a gentle shade of pink. "Well," She said, "I'm flattered." He, however, was much more known than she. His bravery and chivalry...it was something to be admired. And admire it she did. His legacy was much greater than hers and she didn't mean to seem like she was gushing, but she was very impressed with his feats. She couldn't help but smile when he did when she said his full name. Bhuvan had spoken Arabic and was half Egyptian...so he'd passed the skill of speaking Arabic to his adopted daughter and told her stories of Arab history. Saladin had popped up a few times and her father always used his Arabic name, as long as it was.

"Iskander. Saladin in private. My name in Arabic is a little long, after all. And yourself?"

"No one ever calls me Wang," She said with a gentle smile, "And I think Jennah is a prettier name any way, so...Jennah." But he, and she kept this strictly to herself, could call her whatever he wanted to. She was attracted to him. He seemed polite and intelligent...not to mention he was handsome. She was almost ashamed for being attracted to him physically...but...isn't it also human nature to be attracted to something pleasing to the eye?

She laughed a little as he fell. It wasn't a mocking laugh, at all. "I'll take that as a challenge!" He warned, a glimmer in his eyes. She saw that glimmer. She liked it. She smirked as he swung his javelin in a circle and waited for him to prepare himself. She took the rarely-used hairband on her wrist and tied her hair back in a low pony tail. She let her black hair hang over her shoulder as he took his position. She couldn't help but admire that he still resembled a sultan. She kept her javelin pointed at him, holding it like she would a bow staff. She bent her knees carefully, ready to spring like a tiger if need be. Slowly but surely, she was letting her warrior side take over again and it showed.

When he charged at her she charged at him, twirling her javelin and letting out an ancient Chinese battle cry. She watched him closely, a little to closely as she blocked her right side. Realizing his was attack was fake, she recovered and held her javelin up, blocking his next move. The sound of the javelins was sharp as they cracked against each other. Jennah looked right into Saladin's dark eyes before slamming her foot into his stomach to get him to back away from her. Then she did a back flip to give them a but more space. She looked at her javelin for a moment, tempted to break it and become dual weaponed...

She broke it over her knee. She was never one for bow staffs...She looked back up at her opponant and smirked before beckoning him to come at her.

[/font]

WORD COUNT: 780
LISTENING TO: a ton of stuff
COMMENTS: MORTAL KOMBAT!

[/center]

[Iskander Rafel Azizi]

The conversation was now forgot as Iskander Saladin prepared himself for battle. He had trained a long time for this. Now granted, that had been eight hundred years ago, but he still had it. He had had it when, at the tender age of nine, he had sent his father to the ICU. Bastard deserved it, for stabbing his mother! Yes, he'd much rather be a wanderer. That man would never be able to find them then. But if he did, he'd have to contend with not a nine-year-old, but an eighteen year old, six foot tall guy with a grudge...and incidentally, a lot of scimitar training. However, before he'd trained with a blade, he had trained with a staff, since he was a child. A staff shorter than a javelin, but it would do. A weapon was a weapon, end of story.

He watched as Jennah got herself ready, putting her hair in a ponytail. She looked fine with it either way, and he admitted it to himself - he noticed. She was pretty. No discussion about that. He liked her, and again, he admitted it to himself. That was no reason for him to say so, or, for that matter, be distracted. Wouldn't that be dumb! To be distracted now and make a fool of himself?

He was not phased by the battle cry she let loose, having heard them plenty of times before. Not that particular cry, of course. But Crusaders shouting cries for God, and he did the same. Albeit not for the same God. She countered his move and the poor gym equipment slammed together. He held on well. She was smaller than he was; maybe he'd be able to use that. Their eyes met for a second, and he saw her move. She got out of the way just in time to avoid a kick to the stomach. She flipped back, and Iskander watched the theatrics with an air of amusement. Could he be as flashy? With his weapon, he could. But such thematics were not his fighting style.

When she broke the javelin, he pondered doing the same. He could work with two 'scimitars' or he could do something else entirely to combat the second weapon. There were javelins nearby. Good. He could throw them, or...he, too, took a second to snap the javelin. He'd pay for it, most certainly. Not doing so would be rude. His break, though, was different. It wasn't in half. Instead of an eight-foot-something pole, he now had a six foot pole, and a two-foot-something short one. He left the short one in his left, the long one in his right, and grinned. Now he had a block, and the second one, which was a fair length if he held it in the middle, he could work it was like one. If he wanted to, he could snap the longer one again, but for now he’d leave it. It gave him an advantage when it came to range. And he’d need it. Her spun the longer weapon with ease, then the small one to fully adjust to them. It was all he would need, and it looked good. Which had its point. Not to impress her, no. But it was a simple made you look game. Her whirled the longer staff and took a step to her left, spun around with his back to her for a second, and lunged with the longer pole. It wasn’t exactly a feint. It was mad to attack and if got a hit in, greatly, but just as soon he’d moved the staff from its horizontal position to a vertical one. The twist of his wrist gave him momentum form the attack, and the pole’s potion worked both as a blocker and a pivot point for him to get to the meat and potatoes of the move, which was a diagonal upwards swipe at her torso with the shorter stick. They came close, and he swung the longer pole again to the horizontal, buying him a second to back off and her a moment to attack. It would be no fun – and no fair to her - if he just kept going at it, though he knew how to string attacks as such; just as the highest of the Crusaders attacked only when the odds were against them (to level the playing field against lesser-trained troops), he and his highest often did much the same. To survive, attacking constantly was important. But not here.

Little did either of them know, the poor, normal janitor had slipped in, and was watching out of sight, torn between telling them off right away of watching what looked for all the world not like two teens, but two well-equipped warriors.

----------
words| 835
tagged| Jennah / Tina
notes| I got none right now?

[Jennah Raine Advani]

The circus talk and polite chat of before was gone. The two teens were no longer who they appeared to be. He wasn't Iskander Rafel Azizi. She was no longer Jennah Raine Advani. Their bodies were mere puppets for their ancient souls. He was Saladin (or Salāh ad-Dīn Yūsuf ibn Ayyūb...whatever floats your boat), Sultan of Egypt and Syria, rivial or Richard the Lionheart. She was Wang Cong'er, leader of a rebel army against the Qing regime, kung fu master and exquisite acrobat.

Jennah was a little nervous. He figured her to be a worthy opponent, but he was trained in a different fighting style than she. What if she did not fight well enough and made a fool of herself? And she hadn't practiced kung fu very much...would her body still remember how to move? Would she still remember all the pressure points on the body so she could take him out? But she didn't want to hurt him too much. Perhaps she could just dodge his moves and tire him out, which would make defeating him easier. There were so many choices...

Her cry really didn't mean anything in particular. It was roughly Chinese for "I'm gonna kick your ass". Of course, it sounded much more intimidating when you scream it as she did. It was also better when you refrained from saying it in English...

She also noticed she was smaller than he by quite a bit. However, she didn't see that as a disadvantage to her. She was fast and being smaller made it harder for him to catch her. Perhaps she could use his long limbs against him and trip him up. It'd be easy to roll between his legs and attack him before he could turn around.

Years and years ago, when Jennah was still known as by Wang and she was learning Kung Fu, her sensei instructed her to pick an animal to make a fighting style after. Most student chose a tiger or a cobra, but Wang chose a jack rabbit. The animal was as small as she and as fast and the jack rabbit tired out their enemies before attacking. That was her plan of action for his fight: tire Saladin out.

She smiled when he avoided a kick to the stomach and she was a safe distance away from him. Maybe those long limbs were less clumsy than she had originally thought. She waited for him — which was the polite thing to do — as he broke his javelin as well. She raised her eyebrows at his break: one long piece, one short. Well, if that suited him, then so be it. She smiled when he did and - forgetting that she was not in China - she uttered, "Hen hoa"...meaning 'very good'. Catching her mistake and quickly said in what little Arabic her father taught her, "Jayed" meaning "good".

She carefully inched towards him a he spun his weapon, her eyes carefully searching for an opportune moment to attack. She watched him swing the longer stick. She misjudged it as another feint as she lunged at him, swinging her weapons and aiming her at the wound of his right thigh, a pressure point she found from personal experience to be quite painful when hit. And then he got her across the torso. She grunted as he hit her and dropped one half of her javelin in surprise. She back up for a moment before going at him, springing up and leaping over his long staff as he swung it horizontally. If she really wanted to show off, she could have landed on his javelin and kicked him in the face, but she chose not to.

Rather, she switched hands and held her four foot javelin in her left hand while she bent her right hand so her thumb matched up with the tip of her pointer and middle finger. She wound her arm back and when she landed on the mat from her jumping dodge, she threw her arm and attempted to slam the tip of her thumb, middle and index fingers right into the center of his chest - another pressure point which would most likely knock the wind out of him if she succeeded. She rolled into a backwards summersault to give them space again, in case he were going to attempt to attack. She picked up her dropped javelin half while she was down. When she got back up, she held her two weapons just like she used to wield herself with two swords. Her jaw was set and her eyebrows were lowered over her eyes with determination. Her eyes with alive with the fire Wang Cong'er once had when she fought with her enemies.

She carefully side stepped around him, circling him slowly, never giving him her back once. Her seriously look finally broke when she gave Iskander a small smile. He was doing well. Very well. He knew how to fight and parry her...even if they had two different fighting styles. And, if she may say so, she found him even more attractive when he was fighting. She looked at him, her dark eyes gleaming under her long, dark eyelashes.

She too, was unaware of the janitor, otherwise stickly English would have been spoken and she would have dropped her javelins and probably bottled up the warrior inside out of embarrassment.

[/font]

WORD COUNT: 904
LISTENING TO: Kanashimi No Mukou E...yep.
COMMENTS: google is my best friend

[/center]

[Iskander Rafel Azizi]

It was no longer time to talk, but to act. If truth was going to be told, Saladin was honestly nervous about this battle. He had his skill, but the fact remained that she had skills he'd never been trained to fight. He had to hack and slash at Crusaders in heavy armour; find the sports that it didn't over, move in, move out. Evade, leap, run into the desert and kill them of thirst. It hadn't been pretty, those Crusades. But it had been the way it was. Now she, on the other hand, had martial arts...it would be interesting, to say the least. He was used to being the agile one in combat, for all his long limbs. Now he'd have rivalry in that aspect. But she had not trained for warfare since

Only time would tell, he supposed, and if he had to lose, he'd do it with honor, and still manage to go down fighting. She spoke in Arabic to him, and he simply nodded. He wasn't in a talking mood just now. He didn't get chatty in his battles, he never had. He fought and he did what he set out to do. End of story. Politics and sharp talk was for the aftermath. And that was how Saladin had earned his salt. Literally. Salt was valuable in the desert. Mercy was for out of the battle itself, or facing a civilian. She was not one, not right now, any more than he was.

Jennah lunged when he feinted, making a move for some point on his body, and he managed to get out of the way just in time, avoiding the full hit but still feeling a jolt. Well, that didn't happen during the Crusades, he'd tell you that first hand. He got her across the torso with her shorter weapon, taking advantage of the fact her attacks made her get in close. He could use that, since his arms were probably longer than hers- while a six foot weapon was no good at close range, a two foot one would be. She dropped one of her two weapons as he swung his pole horizontal and she leaped over it, just before he brought it vertical. He used this to swung him around to face her, and get a first in the chest. It knocked the wind right out of him, and gave her time to hop away and retrieve her dropped weapon.

Last time he'd give her that opportunity, he decided. It was time to use his six-foot weapon to it's greatest effectiveness, and leave his short one for if she did get that at close. She'd have to, to attack...but he could probably fend her off. She was clearly more agile and flexible, but he probably had the strength in this battle, and if he dared say so himself, the greater experience level. He shifted his grip on his long pole, to give him even greater reached, and charged.

This, in itself, might have seemed foolhardy, but he knew what he was doing. The charge was a full, head-on charge, and a burst of energy that he knew she'd be able to move out of the way from, or he'd end up impaling her against a gym wall. She'd have to move, and if it worked out, she'd either jump over his long pole, or simply step to one side and try to hit him. Iskander waited until he was almost at her, then raised his shorter weapon, tossing it straight at her. In his mind, they were not so much poles as knives, his weapon of choice. He then swung out in a large, sweeping half-circle behind him with his longer pole, holding onto the end as he came to a half, changed direction, and scooped up the short pole. His face was totally expressionless, right down to his eyes. That was how he worked.

And all this the janitor was witnessing. It was freaking him out, big time. He'd seen both the kids before; Iskander was a local kid, Jennah was new...and they were speaking in God-knew-what and making to kill each other. That and they'd broken school equipment...which he was willing to ignore because these two seemed like they'd jumped out of an action movie. The Jennah kid just leaped around and hit like she thought she was Jackie Chan or something, and it really was disconcerting to watch Iskander fight without any emotion. "Hey! You two!" This interrupted Iskander swinging the long pole forwards. He stopped in place. "That was awesome! But you gotta get out of here, that's really not something that you can do, AND both of you vandalized school property! Out!" if he didn't intervene, after all, he could lose her job. "Now! Back door!" Iskander dropped the pole, grinned sheepishly in a very un-Sultan-like manner, and grabbed his backpack. "Get!" The man snarled, pretending to be a lot madder than he was.

Outside the emergency exit of the gym, Iskander burst out laughing. He looked over at Jennah, who was beside him, and grinned. "You're a very worthy opponent. Thanks for the bout." He meant it, too. Every word. A very good warrior, and he admitted it, a very pretty young lady. He liked her. "On a side note, did you see the look on his face? I had no idea he was there!"

------------
words| 971
tagged| Jennah / Tina
notes| Nupe.

[Jennah Raine Advani]

There was no doubt he was the stronger one of the two. That was reaffirmed when she felt the power behinds his blow when he got her in the chest. But this didn't have to be a game of strength. Really, it was a battle of wits. Their strength and agility was just a bonus. No, this was all wits. They had to out smart each other and be one step ahead of each other to make the proper moves...almost like a game of chess. She couldn't focus any longer on how different his fighting style was...or even how attractive he was. He was her rival in battle right now and he would be nothing more to her until the winner was determined. And she was equally as determined to come out on top or die trying.

...Okay. Dying was an extreme. But she would fight until she just couldn't move anymore. She had a high stamina...this fight could go on for quite some time.

She was a little disappointed that he wasn't one to chat when he fought. She had hoped he'd be the type to just blabber away as he grew confident and give her opportunities to attack while he gave a speech. Obviously, he wasn't. ...She'd better stop under estimating him.

She smirked when she landed a good blow in his chest and heard the breath rush out of him. Her grip on her javelins tightened a bit as she let him catch his breath again. Then he was charging. Her first thought was 'How stupid of him'. She prepared herself to just step out of his way and attack when she paused. Saladin was no idiot. He was probably expecting her to step out of his way and then he'd attack her accordingly. She smirked and stayed where she was, her dark eyes on his as he ran at her. She needed him close in order to attack him. So he could come to her.

He threw his shorter javelin at her, so she swung one of hers around to knock it out her way before dropping down in the splits, hoping to knock his legs out from under him. She raised both javelins up to block his next attack. She looked up at his emotionless expression. While he kept his face blank, she had the smirk a cat wears when it plays with a mouse before it gets eaten.

She held one javelin horizontally in a block and brought the other one down. She swung it back before beginning to swing it at his ankles, another powerful pressure point. She knew full well, he was swinging to hit her. She hoped she could block him...or at least get him the same time he got her-

"Hey! You two!"

She froze when he did. Jennah's dark eyes widened and all the fierceness the held as Wang before left her. "That was awesome!"
Jennah's gaze left Iskander's face and went to the janitor. Had he always been there? How long had he been watching? Embarrassed, she got up from the splits she had been doing before.

"But you gotta get out of here, that's really not something that you can do, AND both of you vandalized school property!" She hung her head in shame, her cheeks turning pink.

"Out!"

He didn't have to tell her twice. Quickly she went to her things and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. She jammed her feet back into hr shoes before swinging her backpack onto her back and keeping her head down as she walked past the janitor.

"Now! Back door!"

She was out of there before Iskander was. Every ounce of Wang was gone and left behind her as she made a beeline for the door. She didn't look back as she walked. She was actually going to keep on walking until she heard Iskander laugh. She paused and looked up at him, wondering what was so funny at first. But the rich sound of his laugh and his handsome smile made her grin and then she began to laugh as she lightened up. She beamed beautifully at her when he grinned at her, "You're a very worthy opponent. Thanks for the bout."

She bowed her head a bit, "Thank you." She looked back up at him, her eyes connected with his. He was smart, polite, a good fighter and he was a very handsome young man. Jennah couldn't deny the butterflies in her stomach when she looked at him. She smiled and said, "You're an excellent fighter, Saladin. I would have hated being a Crusader against you." The obvious winner in those desert fights would be Saladin for many reasons.

"On a side note, did you see the look on his face? I had no idea he was there!"

She blushed a bit, "I didn't see him until he started to yell. And when he did yell, I didn't look at his face very much." Would it be weird that she'd almost been afraid to?

[/font]

WORD COUNT: 844
LISTENING TO: Your Guardian Angel - Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
COMMENTS: none

[/center]