Elec East High Auditorium

"Fine," Damascus snapped in response, giving off a strong impression of impatience despite the fact that this tedious detour was but a tedious drop in the tedious ocean that was serving MeleeMan. She rose to her feet again, relocated, and resumed her position. "Sixty in a minute is a low metric for me. But I suppose we should be thankful it's not something more arduous," she affirmed, before starting over. If she took offense to being called Jumbo Jugs, she didn't show it. If she found the name flattering or amusing, she didn't show that either.

She watched CourseMan a bit less approvingly, given that he was either cruising for some action with two young cheerleaders or misleading them greatly. She wouldn't ordinarily care, but being caught up in it as an extra observer was terribly awkward and would continue to be so regardless of the result... if they bought in and started getting physical, that would be frustrating to watch, and if he spurned them, then the atmosphere would become hostile towards CourseMan and her (well, it was already fairly hostile towards her).

Ironically, she almost felt a bit thankful that CourseMan had a Courser to spare to spot her. She didn't need it, understood that motivations were probably lecherous, and also didn't particularly care for him in general just yet, but thinking of herself as a tool/weapon/servant, it was always a little uncomfortable for her when she felt like she was left idle. Unfortunate, then, that her face showed the same disdainful expression towards CourseMan once he'd taken that position. He'd get a nice view to watch the heavy movements of her bust and the tantalizing panty-shots offered by her short skirt as she did her work and she, in turn, didn't refuse him the position. Barring any interruptions, however, she'd get thirty sit-ups in under a minute and that fun would be over almost as quickly as it had begun.

---------------------------------------------

"Potential? Yeah, I guess they've got potential," MeleeMan responded. "Potential to grow out," he thought to himself, a smirk overtaking his face. As she continued speaking, it stayed frozen there. "Yeah, what better exercise? Additional coaching, right. Oh yeah, she knows best. Oh, we're going to reach a 'critical stage-'" his thoughts rambled on from innuendo to innuendo, until Hall's booming voice suddenly snapped him out of it. "Geez," he thought to himself, knocking on one side of his helmet to readjust his eardrums. CoachMan had his own interruption to offer; MeleeMan regarded him dumbly with a slow turn of his head. "Bleeping Bub Criminy?" he repeated, not understanding what he'd just heard. When Hall responded, he allowed himself another smirk. "Yeah, Bub! Listen to Hall, huh? Look at this physique! It's the kind of physique that just screams, 'coach!'" MeleeMan added, though it really screamed "champion bodybuilder" more than "cheerleading coach." He felt like adding, "she's a big girl," but he wasn't entirely sure what to make of Hall's mood swings yet, and now that he seemed like he might finally be on the right course to get a lady, like he'd been trying to do... as long as he could remember being created, he didn't want to waste it on a random jab.

He nodded along slowly as he was advised not to speak while they walked. He didn't really have a lot of interest in small talk anyways, and furthermore, he needed the time to formulate his plan of what exactly he was hoping to get out of this experiment... and, less importantly, how he was going to keep the charade going. Well, technically, he was hired as a coach. He could get paper work to prove that. "Nothing but the truth," he reminded himself. "Wait... Damn. Classes in progress. Am I really going to get anywhere during school hours? Damn." For some reason, he'd just assumed most of them would be out, given that the where Rania had gone was having field day or something like that.

Their end destination wasn't quite what he'd pictured (then again, he hadn't really had a lot of ideas), but he figured it would work fine. At the very least, it didn't look like a place anyone else would be coming. He didn't know why Hall's statues weren't watching him... but he had some ideas about it, and damn, he was already warming up to the student council president a bit, thinking she might have picked up on the vibe and decided she'd give him some encouragement. With that in mind, he couldn't help but smile as he composed his thoughts. "I'll enlighten you, alright," he thought to himself, then frowned. The innuendos he couldn't stop coming up with were ruining his earnest attempts to think actual, worthwhile thoughts. "To start with, you're on the cheerleading squad yourself, right? You wouldn't mind putting on your cheerleader costume for me, right?" he began boldly, though he'd already stumbled by referring to the outfit as a 'costume' rather than a uniform, perhaps shedding more light on his intentions. "I'm just thinking, you know, visualization. If I feel like I'm coaching anyone but a cheerleader, I'm not going to fine-tune this routine like I ought to," he proposed. Now was the time for MeleeMan to cross his fingers (except his gauntlets made such a thing more or less impossible). This was the moment where she would either catch on or he'd feel fairly confident that he had an active credit card for all the shenanigans he wanted to purchase through debt.

The twins tittered in response to CourseMan's further innuendos, a mixture of flirtatiousness and expectation in concentrations that were imperceptibly different between the two of them. "Hmm... I guess that's fine," Wand finally responded. "I'll, like, be the bigger woman. I'm at least spotting at the head if I've got to, though. Just wanna get outta this dump..."

"Totally," Twig concurred, taking a spot at CourseMan's feet. The two of them took sloppy form. It seemed like their idea of "spotting" amounted to little more than scanning CourseMan with hungry eyes as he blazed through his set. Of course, they did their best to immediately avert their eyes if they happened to catch him looking, which ought to lead one to question how they were supposed to count his sets at all. Neither was paying any attention to Damascus whatsoever at this point, so whether she finished her sets before or after CourseMan would be lost to all but Damascus herself and her spotting Course-clone. Whenever either of them finished their set, there was a congratulatory "ding-ding" noise emanated from the room around them (possibly the school's sound system?) and the light of the mat went off.

Wand and Twig jumped to their feet again and high-fived. No doubt they'd have far less energy to celebrate if they were the ones who had just done exercise and were currently preparing for more. "We did it! In your face, Hall," Wand exclaimed, happy to rub the absent class president's nose in their questionable victory.

"With Dreamy and Damascus on our side, we'll be done with this in no time!" Twig agreed. She turned back to the two coaches, who would presumably have risen again by this point. "You two didn't, like, even break a sweat on that one. Let's move on to the rope climb, okay? You two can get this over with in no time, and we'll be halfway done!"

"Totally!" Wand added. "Since there isn't really anything for us to do on this one, uh... Twig can watch the door in case CoachMan barges in for some reason, and I'll stay here and watch you two!"

"Ugh, like I'd agree to that," Wand complained, tossing her hair. "Watching the door? Lame!"

"Well, whatevs. It's not like either of us actually needs to watch the door, I thought you'd just, like, wanna make yourself useful, Dummy," Wand replied.

"I am being useful! I'm the one who's activating all the tests. You're the one who's, like, standing there drooling!" To prove the dubious point of her usefulness, Twig proceeded to activate the rope climb (hopefully, Damascus hadn't been too adamant on wanting the obstacle course next).

"Oh, if only we could all be so useful! Poor Twiggy! Getting a little tired from activating those routines, huh? A little too much processing power required?" Wand teased her sister, causing the two to launch into a back-and-forth.

The coach Navi and SP would probably find their time better utilized by observing the sixth of the mat beneath the rope climb. It had begun to glow faintly, as the one before it had. Of course, the ropes were already there, and they weren't going anywhere. There was probably nothing left to do but start climbing...

... Or so one might think. A close look would reveal something a bit odd about this next test: the rope appeared to be becoming wet. It wasn't drenched, but there seemed to be a constant trickle of water running down it now. More interesting, tiny bubbles soon started appearing on the surface, and a faint, perfumed smell that could be found in most washrooms. If neither of the two happened to notice that before beginning to climb, they'd probably notice it quickly once they started. The soapy rope wasn't completely soaked, and the wet texture might even be benevolent, as it reduced the coarse friction one would normally experience holding onto such a thing, so climbing appendages wouldn't become scratched. Of course, the loss of friction was far less than ideal for a rope climb, and it would only become worse as time marched forward, which probably ought to act as incentive to complete the course quickly. The water and soap currently only covered trickling paths of the rope: the two could probably brute force it before it got any worse, or carefully reach for dry, coarse spots in their climb.

For their part, the two twins hadn't apparently noticed at all. "Shut up a sec, Wandy, I need to tell them the rules! You just gotta have a continuous climb from the top, then back down to the bottom. It doesn't count if you fall, and you have to start from the beginning again."

"Of course, if you do fall, the mat should probably break it, even if you fall all the way from the top. Lucky we're not, like, humans... See, Twiggy? I'm helping too, at least as much as you are!"

"Shut up, Wandy!" Twig spat back, and the two were right back into it. If either coach wanted an audience for the sudsy climb, they were probably going to have to catch the sisters' attention again.

---

Hall and MeleeMan remained alone (more or less) in the gymnastics room as MeleeMan continued his finest attempt at subtlety. "Yes, indeed! I am the noble captain of our fine cheer squad, the finest! Any cheerleader who hesitates to don her outfit would be unfit to call herself a cheerleader," Hall complied with a smile. MeleeMan would probably be happy to see she was willing, but might be disappointed to see he wasn't being offered a show: the woman equipped the .GMO with little fanfare, a "blink-and-you'll miss it" swap accompanied with a flash that left everything to the imagination. He might also be interested to see the statues had vanished altogether with this transformation. Hall didn't bother to explain it, so he'd be free to come up with his own theories, if he cared.

MeleeMan hadn't actually seen the cheerleader outfits yet, having left before Damascus and CourseMan got into theirs. Hall's was identical to those of the others, although better fit for her. It was a fairly conservative design, but one she wore well. MeleeMan would get a better view of the girl's glamorous figure. She remained with her hands on her hips even if he took some time looking it over, probably assuming he was taking in the majesty of her school's uniform.

"There's no need to waste time with words of admiration," Hall stated pre-emptively, holding up one of her hands and keeping her smile fixed across her face. "Please, don't keep me in suspense any longer! I simply must take this chance to get a rare look into the world of coaching secrets that are normally so carefully guarded. Teach me your proprietary methods, MeleeMan, so that we might utilize it to turn those twins into the fine young women I know they can be!" Hall was shouting again at this point, and it was impossible to doubt that her enthusiasm was genuine. She'd continue to keep her bright eyes matched with MeleeMan's visor, making eye contact when there was none to be had.

At this point Courser was quite sure that Damascus had no objections to him dominating the girls' attention. Through the eyes of his main decoy, she was simply interested in tearing through her first challenge at impressive speed, and didn't even seem to care that the 'spotter' was getting ample eyefulls and enjoying them with a smirk. For his own part, Courser kept a stead, if slightly slower pace for his; still quicker than was really needed, but relaxed enough to look casual while he was doing it. Every now and then he'd pause for just a fraction of a second longer on the down beat and cast one eye up towards where Wand was kneeling. This meant, of course, that he was looking up at her effectively from having his head between her thighs, over the curves of her body to meet her eyes, but he only ever left enough time for the barest of quick winks or grins, before continuing. From the position, there was not really any chance of Twiggy seeing that he was doing this on the down sets, though she might still see the spotting position he'd outlined for the girl at his head as a little suggestive. they'd gone along with it though, and it wasn't like he wasn't aware of Twig getting her own eye-candy glances, too. It was cute the way they pretended they weren't, whenever he glanced at one or the other, though.

When he was done, he stayed down for a second after the thirty, then reached up with his hands past his shoulders, to tap Wand just lightly on the thighs. As someone exercising to someone spotting, it would have been a completely innocent gesture of completion... as it was his hands lingered for just a fraction of a second more than a 'tap' would have, before he sat up and rolled to the side, standing quickly and grinning. Notably, he wasn't really giving Twiggy or Wand time to over-think or over-react to his flirtations and suggestive action, and the more questionable they might be, the briefer they were and the swifter came a smooth distraction or topic change. In this case, he was done a few moments after Damascus herself and reclaimed his pom-poms to put hands on his hips again as the twins moved on to the next activity. His decoy offered a hand to help Damascus up, guessing already that the steely woman wouldn't take it. Even so, it gave her an approving nod.

As they gave the details of the next test, Courser looked it over; his breathing was a bit more pronounced now, but not in an out-of-breath way; rather he seemed just nicely warmed up. He scratched slightly at the centre of his chest with one hand, pom-pom included. He was still finding himself consciously aware of the chest-level undergarmenting, underneath the uniform and while it wasn't exactly annoying him, it was still present in a noticeable way.

Briefly, Courser found himself wandering if Wand's attempt to shuttle her sister off to watching the door wasn't out of an urge to perv solo, but the white-clad sister soon put a damper on the effort either way. More importantly was the need to quiet the pair's bickering, since that would kill the fun faster than most other dangers. He turned back to the two, while his main decoy walked around the now activated ropes and took a good look at them.

"Ladies please, I'm sure MeleeMan has our privacy well in hand, just so long as we don't get too vocal in our fun here. There's no reason you can't both just sit back and enjoy the show." From over by the ropes, his decoy looked towards the girls and raised an eyebrow.
"Boss is right, girls. Come quietly and there'll be no trouble." It spoke with a wink and a twist of a grin, but Courser turned his head to flash the clone a chastising look.
"Enough. Show some class, man, these are classy ladies!" A statement of truly dubious truth, perhaps, but rarely one taken ill. Despite this warning, a second clone appeared alongside Wand and Twig, standing just beside and behind Wand slightly, with her between the clone and her sister. It leaned in to whisper for her ear only.
"Seriously though, if you really want a one-on-one session later, your eyes only, we can arrange something." It dissipated as soon as it finished speaking, but not before it was clear that the original Courser didn't really approve of his decoys' forwardness. It reappeared beside Twig this time, murmuring further.
"Don't worry, number one over there might be crude, but he's harmless, really." It too, faded away quickly, but though it still whispered to the second twin, this time around Wand would be able to overhear easily enough, and hear that the words offered to her sister were far more innocent than the ones whispered in secret to her first.

"I think we'd best get started, ladies, don't you?" Courser himself intruded on their argument in time to raise an eyebrow at the drooling comment. "Honestly girls, there's only one type of self-lubrication that we need to be worried about right now..." He paused long enough for the phrase to stand on its own before continuing. "I'm guessing that deal with the rope is what they meant by it getting harder, right? Shouldn't be a problem." He stepped onto the mat at the base of one rope, then looked to Damascus with a grin. "Ready on your end, oh iron maiden?"

For his part, Courser had an extra trick up his sleeve, and with a small flourish, he released the Pom-poms and flexed his hands wide at his sides. The soft flow of water started just above his wrists, covering his hands ans swelling out slightly, until the began to stretch and lengthen into two elongated whip tails that trailed down to the ground and wove back and forth calmly. He glanced back over his shoulder and winked at the twins, holding up his left hand in a way that caused the wave whip there to rise and snake back and forth in a clearly prehensile way, before reaching out to take hold of the rope. It was also a chance for the girls to reach, just in case the use of any navigator skills or functions was not allowed; they hadn't said so, but give the pairs level of ditziness, he wouldn't be surprised if they'd forgotten to mention it. If he was in the clear though, the flirty navi took hold of the rope through his water whip; he made sure to wrap his actual hand firmly around the rope, but the rushing water that surrounded the limb washed and scoured the rope beneath his grip thoroughly. Suds might be slippery, but for a navi like him, gripping something that was just plain wet, or submerged, was in some ways even simpler than grabbing something that was dry.

He climbed easily to begin with, making a leisurely arm over arm pace and making sure to wash the rope thoroughly with his wave whips as he reached up to place each hand in turn. As he climbed, of course, those watching would have another look under his skirt and the firm behind that his too-tight bloomers were only really emphasising. About two thirds of the way up, there was a very slight commotion below. Both of his clones had taken up poses next to each other, to the side of the event, and rustled their pom-poms energetically above their heads. Worse, they began an impromptu chant, moving with perfectly synced steps and poses as they did.

"Courser, Courser, he's the one! Climb that rope and get it done! Climbing's fun but watch and learn: If he slips he'll feel the burn!! Come-onnnn Courser!"

They began with their arms out to three and nine, and high kicks on the left leg, then arms in together and a slight bend at the hips, feet sliding out to an 'A' pose with a low-reaching hand-over-hand set with their pom-poms while they reached the rope-climbing line. Another high kick, right leg this time, dropping into a controlled split with the right leg forward on 'slips', accompanied by a rolling rise with the pom-poms up the length of their chests while they leaned back slightly, to go with 'feeling the burn'. They drew in briefly, pom-pom rustling, then sprang up to their feet and into the air in jumps that brought their heels to their behinds for the final cheer, pom-poms overhead in a slightly back-twisted 'Y'.

Courser himself was not exactly motivated by this display. Two-thirds up the rope climb he flexed and curled up, inverting his body so that he could coil his right leg twice around the rope then lock his heel with his other leg bent neatly over the knee; it didn't matter how slippery the rope got in the interim, once he'd locked the grip, it wasn't going anywhere. The same couldn't be said for his skirt, of course, which was compelled to obey the normal laws of gravity completely. He didn't seem to mind the view he was giving the twins. Instead, he folded his arms over his chest as he looked down at his clones.

"Really, you two? Are you going to try out for the squad yourselves, next?" It was probably a good thing that Twig and Wand, and for that matter Damascus, weren't completely versed in the knowledge that Courser's clones were completely lacking in any actual subroutines, and by rights were soulless, emotionless composites of light and shadow, which did nothing that Courser's own mind didn't direct them to. If any of the women in the room knew that, they might be looking at the water navi more strangely than they probably already were.

With a small shake of his head, Courser curled up again, reaching out with his water-clad hand to grip firmly onto a piece of rope above where his ankle was locked, and flipped right way up again. while his skirt fell back to a more proper position, this still only meant that the girls would have to go back to perving on his bum instead of his front. At least the unexpected cheer routine had still been quite quiet, all told. They'd kept their voices down enough that everyone in the room would have heard, but no more than that.

Provided there were no other sudden surprises, he'd reach the top easily enough and begin the controlled climb back down. It wasn't a particularly strenuous task, all told, and his earlier excursions into Hades had been more taxing in just about every way, but if the tests continued to get harder, Courser found himself wondering if the fourth one would really still be acceptable as a competency test for teen girls wanting to cheer. He spared a glance over to see how Damascus was doing, but if she was as businesslike about this task as she had been about the last one, he half expected that she'd already be done ahead of him.

Damascus accepted CourseMan's hand and rose to her feet; even if she was an unfriendly person, she did have a certain devotion to mannerly gestures. Her breathing had seemingly barely elevated at all, perhaps because she was only exercising and not flirting at the same time, which made her exertion a bit less. Still, a wide frown broke across her face as she watched lubricant drip down the rope ahead of her. Not only was that a little vulgar, but more importantly, she had a mostly irrational fear of liquids that are harmful to metallic surfaces. "Are we actually counting on my master for discretion? This mission may be doomed to fail," she sighed, directing her agitation towards a target she could criticize without revealing her misgivings towards household soap.

The sword-lady started up the rope with less technique that CourseMan and, as a result, found it immediately more difficult. She clenched her teeth as she felt the ordinarily coarse material slip from her fingers a few times before she could get started. For a moment, she considered using metallic pincers to try to get a grip and climb up, but her steel would be so sharp that she would probably just cut through the rope, or so forceful even with a blunt instrument as to do the same. The only thing she could do was try to brute force it in standard fashion. Drawing up her lower lip, she used all of her limbs to begin her way up, her thick thighs wrapping around the rope as she jumped up to begin. She found herself wishing she could use her glare to force the rope into submission. Battles were actually easier than soapy rope climbing, as far as she was concerned.

If this mess wasn't bad enough, CoarseMan had amazingly found extra time to put on a distracting, foolish display of cheerleading his own climb. She grit her teeth and tried to remain focused, even as CoarseMan's barely covered, distractingly defined junk hung nearby her. She briefly considered whether or not she'd be "caught" if she swung her rope into him and used his body to help herself in her climb, but decided it was too risky. Instead, she winced one eye closed and continued to slide her cheek up the rope. By this point, her cheerleader outfit was slippery in soap except for the back, which was the only part of her that hadn't been actively involved in cradling the rope. Her shirt had begun to wind up a bit more on the underside of her breasts, thanks to her pattern of sticking close and sliding up the rope...

-------------------------------------------------

MeleeMan nodded with satisfaction, a reaction which thankfully didn't reveal why he was satisfied, all the more so because his eyes were perpetually hidden. Happy though he was, he found himself feeling somewhat at odds with his own direction. "Dammit, why am I tricking her? I don't need to trick anyone, I'm MeleeMan... If I just tell the truth, she'll be sexy putty in my hands one way or another," he reminded himself, perhaps feeling a little guilt. Then again... pure MeleeMan hadn't actually won him any girls so far, despite his ego. He admitted to himself that he wanted to ride this one out as far as he could. Maybe the two would grow a genuine appreciation for one another along the way?

That said... how was he going to follow up? He'd been thinking of making her do some push ups or jumping jacks and just watching, but that was too pedestrian to give him a boner and, perhaps more importantly, too ordinary to seem like an extraordinary training technique. He'd need to go for something more unique... But his brain was just too dense to think up something genius. Instead, he'd have to go with what he knew. "I just have to prove how strong I am... and at the same time, work something sexy into it... and maybe play to her ego, since she seems confident in herself. Like Rania's friend, she seems like she wants a challenge... the question is, does she want to knock boots with me as badly as Rania's friend does?" he pondered, with a slightly inflated opinion of Amelie's feelings towards him.

"Alright, here's the way it goes. It might shock you to know, but I'm more an all around athletic coach than a pure cheerleading coach," he began, revealing the shocker of the century: that he was not, in fact, a sole specialist in cheerleader training. "Still, I'm the best there is, and I'm confident I can lead those girls to victory. You know a thing or two about multiple talents yourself, right? What your girls need is competitive spirit and what fosters that spirit better than contact sports? For that reason, wrestling is really the best way to go. It bonds the coach and the trainee," he continued, stopping just short of BSing about antipodes again, which he had a feeling wouldn't go over as well with Hall as it did with Coachman, "and also gives the coach a good idea of overall potential. It's a great starting point," he concluded, nodding and trying to encourage Hall to nod along. "Now, we ought to give it a try ourselves... Well, assuming you're confident with your own conditioning. I wouldn't want to put you on the spot," he lied, smirking as he said it and adopting a grappler's stance, bracing his knees and spreading his arms, clenching his fingers experimentally. If she was anything as competitive as Rania's friend (or Rania, for that matter), she'd fall right into his trap.

"You ready? Try to submit me... Not that it's possible. But seeing what you try to do will give me an idea of your style, your proficiencies, all that stuff... And help me figure out what the next step should be," he added. That part was genuine; he had no idea how to proceed (or if he was even going to get the chance) and the results of this experiment would be key to deciding how to continue. "Hey, I know it sounds weird, but that old man's tried all the normal stuff with them, hasn't he? To get results, you need to branch out a little."

CourseMan's efforts in getting the girls on-focus again appeared fruitful, as the two shut up and put their heads together to watch the spectacle that was CourseMan's effortless and Damascus's effort-full attempts to climb their respective ropes. The twins looked like they were about to complain about something before biting their tongues. They were probably just realizing the state of the ropes the two were climbing. Either way, the girls were content to stay quiet now and watch the show.

Wand rolled her eyes and Twig giggled at CourseMan's clone pep rally. "He's pretty good, right, Wandy? Looks like he ought to knock out that step demonstration for us quick."

"Impressive hanging on, but ugh, it's just, like, too sad to cheer for yourself," she said, tossing her hair and casting her eyes aside again. "All right, since you're so desperate for it, I guess I'll give you a real cheer."

Twig looked genuinely surprised by that. "Well, that's a weird way to shirk cheerleading tryouts, Wandy! Aren't you trying a little too hard?"

"Shut up, Twiggy. We're gonna have to, like, actually cheer when we actually are cheerleaders, you know!" Wand walked forward and grabbed the pom-poms CourseMan had earlier discarded from the mat. "Uh... let's see... Courser, Courser, he's our man! If he can't do it, no one can!" the girl called out, her voice seeming to grow bored merely from having to exert effort. All the same, she was putting in an effort at projecting. She didn't exactly deliver the pulse-pounding steps CourseMan's squad had, though, settling for merely shaking her pom poms. "Courser, Courser he's the one! Climb the rope and get it done! Climbing's fun and watch it done: if you slip you're one and done! Course-eeeeeeee-er!" she shouted, throwing in some stamps to at least carry the illusion of stepping.

"Ohmigod, what a try-hard. You totally screwed those lyrics, too," Twig commented disinterestedly, watching Courser again (probably with some focus on particular areas, but focus that was masked by CourseMan's relative distance to the girls). "Damascus, Dreamy's beating you! Pick up the pace, all right? Oh, and remember, you've gotta, like, actually climb! If you just fall or slide down, you're just gonna hurt yourself and have to do it again."

It didn't look like there was any further trick to the course. When either of the pair reached the top, they would be free to carefully descend. Touching the mat after a measured climb down would produce a satisfying "ding-ding."

---

Hall nodded politely in response to the revelation that MeleeMan was not, in fact, a professional cheer-leading coach by design, still beaming with her amiable smile. "Yes, that's a correct. I make a point to sharpen a variety of skills so as to best advance the prestige of our academy and its many enrolled. Ah... wrestling?" the student repeated after her would-be coach, showing a note of enthusiasm that was even an octave higher than her usual. "Certainly, I'm willing to give it a shot! I have great admiration for the craft, although I confess I am not intimately acquainted with it. Still, strike that admission from your mental record. I offer no excuse and no quarter: you shall find yourself rendered helpless as I administer... a rear naked choke, with a body lock!" the girl boomed in a way that would probably embarrass many lesser creatures. "Yes, when our forms are wrapped together, causing you to go limp in my embrace as my body, while lacking in experience, ravages you and finds you sweaty, my thigh crossing your- Hm?"

The student council president paused as a "ding-ding" noise emanated from her vicinity. Her eyes went wide and she dropped her grappling stance, her face breaking out in an ecstatic grin. "Ohoh.... Ohohoho! Meleeman, excellent news! It appears the girls have managed to pass the first of their trials! I never doubted their ability for a second. Why, with or without our help, I'm inclined to believe their positivity can carry them through the next trial as well. What say you, MeleeMan? As a coach, do you not feel compelled to travel back to the gym and try to sneak a peek at the spectacle of realized ambition and developing potential? Or... do you still feel the need to demonstrate your teaching craft?" Hall asked. She had re-adopted her grappling stance, and while she seemed incapable of seeming anything less than enthusiastic, there was a marked reduction in her urgency as her goal unfolding somewhere else distracted from MeleeMan's presentation.

From his vantage point at the top of the rope, Courser did pause again to appreciate Wandy's attempt at cheering. Internally he winced, and focused very firmly on not allowing particular thoughts to slip out to his clones... like the errant notion that they would need to be really good on their backs if they wanted to stay in the team at all, after a showing like that. On the outside, however, he grinned for the show and winked, before turning back to his downward climb.

Like Damascus, his uniform had acquired quite a lot of suds as a result of the journey, and he'd been less than careful about making contact with the cleansing water from his hands too, which meant the front of his outfit was wet and clinging in quite a thorough way by the time he had climbed all the way back down. He looked over to his climbing buddy.

"Never fear; we aren't relying on MeleeMan for discretion, so much as we're relying on him to be a distraction. If miss Hall piques his interest, then I'm sure we can feel fairly safe in assuming he'll do his best to distract her, don't you think?" He was guessing, mostly, but he felt the need to do something to reassure the support program that her master was not, in fact, being trusted with delicacy or secrecy. His feet touched the mat a moment later and he let go of the rope.

At the side, the second Courser clone had run out of time while watching Wand put on her show, but the second one clapped and cheered for her when she was done. It stood beside her as they watched the end of Courser's climb and leaned in to whisper.

"Nice work, gorgeous, much appreciated." The clone put an arm about her shoulders in a brief rub of thanks, then let it slip away again, hopefully without protest. Elsewhere, beside Twiggy, the second clone faded back in, hands on his hips and an eyebrow raised as it looked past her towards where her sister had put on her 'performance'.

"Looks like someone's a bit too eager to impress the pretty lad, don't you think? Thinking with her tingly places, maybe? Over-doing it, I'd say..." He was only murmuring to Twiggy at this point - the distance between the sisters after Wand gave her demonstration was probably enough that she wouldn't hear him any more clearly than to understand that he was saying something. "He's plenty interested, don't you worry, just play it cool and I bet you'll get him all to yourself at the end of this." The first clone looked past where he was grinning to Wandy and called out the other decoy with a clearer voice that both girls would no doubt hear.

"Hey, show some respect, mate! No-one picks the wall-flowers!" He lowered his voice again as he returned his eyes to Wandy. "Even if that guy didn't like it, he's got all the taste of a squid. I thought you did great, and I guarantee Pretty Boy noticed it real well, too." This time the comforting brush came in lower, curling about the girl's hip and ever so slightly the side of her rump too. He didn't let the touch linger for long, but definitely long enough to be noticed before it was pulled away a moment later.

Clone shenanigans aside, Courser himself was inspecting his sudsed-up outfit, before giving a small bow with a smirk and a wink to the girls. The soap was slippery, which could be fun, but it was also mildly unpleasant as far as he was concerned, so Courser did what he normally did to clean off, pretty much without thinking about it. For the aqua navi, this was dragging a quick wave of water over himself like a miniature tidal crash, accompanied by a hint of fresh breeze for those who were close enough. The water faded away very close to his body, and didn't make a mess any more than dousing Courser himself. It certainly got the soap off, but unlike the rest of his normal clothing, the cheer outfit wasn't designed to be wet, or to dry quickly. The result was that Courser was left clean of soap, but equally drenched, cloth clinging tightly to his body everywhere. Really everywhere.

Courser himself didn't seem to mind or even really notice this, but shook himself off once quickly and came up with another smile for the girls. His wave-whips were curling around his hands and snaking down to the ground again now, back to their default mode after the rinse off, and given the tone of his conversation and innuendo, it would be far too easy to imagine what else he might be able to do with prehensile water tails.

"There we are, what's next, ladies?" His head turned as he looked across to Damascus and arched an eyebrow. "You wanted obstacles, right, Damascus? Shall we do that next? Say..." Still grinning, he turned to her fully, and the smile became a smirk that showed a flash white teeth beneath. He raised his hands and waved his fingers, causing the water whips to curl and twist. "You've got a bit of that soap mess on you there... want me to rinse you off too?" His eyes twinkled, and one would be forgiven for thinking he intended mischief with the offer here as well.

Damascus grimaced, becoming increasingly fed up with the girl's frustrating attempts at coy flirtation and more so with having her obvious disadvantage at rope climbing harped upon. Thankfully for the girls, the glare was focused more on the top of the rope above her than on anything else. "It doesn't take much to pique his interest," Damascus admitted. "I'm sure she's got her hands full with him and vis versa. Maybe not in the way he wants to, but..." she remarked idly, as she continued pulling her way painstakingly to the top, trying to avoid slipping as the girls had nearly jynxed her into doing. Somehow, it seemed disorienting trying to talk to CourseMan with the knowledge that two other CourseMen were holding conversations below her.

When Damascus was certain she'd reached the top, she secretly hoped that a ding-ding would sound out immediately. When it did not, she growled audibly. This meant that she probably couldn't just let go of the rope and fall back down in metal form, which would be easy, but might betray her movements as not those of an ordinary cheerleader. Instead, she slid down the rope in flesh form, at first slowly, then much faster as she lost control. If CourseMan was still below her or either of the girls for that matter, they'd probably get treated to an unintentional butt-slam (thankfully, not a metal one) before Damscus got back steady on her feet. She looked at CourseMan with an unamused frown for a bit, while arching one eyebrow. "Yes... obstacles," she agreed, her eyes momentarily lingering on his wet outfit, the lower portion now taking on more definition than was kosher and hanging to him in a clingy way. Thankfully, her eyes soon returned to his face, bearing their same smoldering, red gaze. Even Courser would probably find himself distracted from his work if he had three girls hitting on him at once.

Her leering eyes flickered down to her own costume for a moment... the pants under her all-too-short skirt were clinging inappropriately as well, though it wasn't quite as obvious. If anything, it was more apparent on the top, which she hadn't bothered to fix back into place, causing it to ride precariously upon the points of her breasts, with the bra having slid up along with the shirt, given that it was less supporting or cupping her bosom and more taut upon it. "Thank you, no," she answered simply, her teeth clenched behind her frown. Her words were quite an understatement, allowing very little insight into just how little she wanted to be doused in water, playfully or otherwise.

-------------------------------

MeleeMan reflected, as he allowed himself to get psyched up for imminent wrestling, that not nearly often enough did he get the opportunity to share joy with others in something genuinely worthwhile. It was usually other people being happy about idiotic things while he pointed out to them why they shouldn't be, or him enjoying a fantastic joke at someone else's expense (or a fantastic punch at someone else's expense). The looming prospect of spirited MeleeMan-on-girl contact was making him giddy in a way the looseness of his pants thankfully hid a bit. "Well, let's get intimately acquainted then!" he agreed, grinning shamelessly as he played off her words... or, more realistically, misinterpreted her words as being a direct come-on rather than possible innuendo. Keeping his smile, he shifted the position of his legs a bit as Hall mentioned rears and nakedness. He shifted it again as she kept going, looking oddly as though he was practicing some sort of tae-kwon-do style. He couldn't remember feeling this aroused since he'd seen Anyis punch a giant crater into the earth after growing her hair out and getting bigger boobs...

... And just like that, a cloud darkened his perfect blue sky. Not only did the interruption of the bell noise take Hall's attention off of the matter at hand, but furthermore, it required him to improvise more coach-talk. "Yeah, great," he lied, speaking through his grin stiffly. "See, here's the thing about great coaches like me: we're assured of our success. It's about experience and uh, method. You've probably noticed how much those girls resent coaches, right? Well, that's how I figured it out: the best gift I can give them, as a coach, is to keep my distance... give them just enough teaching and then space it out, let them spread their wings and fly the nest. Wander into the jungle and hunt their meat! You get it, right?" he ad-libbed. "But hey, I'll return to them when the time is right to put the right polish on the uh, new-cut gem of their cheerleading skills. You, on the other hand, I get the sense that you're not the kind that needs your space. Just the opposite... I think if you and I get hands on right here, right now, we'll both become better coaches all around. Sponge off each other, right? So if you've still got the guts for it and wanna take it to the 'next level,' why don't you put me in that naked choke-hold you were talking about?" he asked, flubbing the name of the move despite knowing it perfectly well, given that wrestling was one of few crafts he could claim an actual interest in.

MeleeMan was still busily planning out all of the ways he might use this impromptu grappling exchange to his advantage, balancing out just the right amount of appeasing his needy lower brain while not making it obvious he was a fake coach. The one thing that could pull this whole day together was if the student council president was actually interested like he was interested, in which case, he just might come out of this smelling like roses... well, whatever nice you might say about MeleeMan, he'd never have the virtue of a flowery, fresh scent. But some intermingled girl scent couldn't hurt.

"Well, he seems like the type to command attention," Twig spoke of MeleeMan, using a sarcastic tone even though her statement was probably true in a literal sense.

The two continued to watch with varying levels of interest as CourseMan finished up. Wand squirmed a bit under the clone's arm, still looking to the side at nothing in particular. "Yeah, like, don't mention it. Like I said..." she trailed off, not caring to finish. With the clone's second touch and reassurance, however, he could feel her clench with some nervousness, crooking her head even farther from his sight to hide her face. "Tell him not to get ahead of himself, okay...?"

For her part, Twig kept browsing her personal viewscreens as the clone spoke to her. Eventually, though, she flashed him a very brief grin and a wink. "Every time," she spoke in a low, conspiratorial tone, before resetting her face to its usual disinterested lilt and resuming ignoring him.

The time for flirting quickly came to an end, though, as the girls were first distracted by CourseMan's showy personal hygiene, and then by Damascus's unfortunate dismount. Wand held a hand to her mouth to repress a giggle.

Twig, on the other hand, let out an exaggerated groan. "Uuugh! Like, were you even listening? If you slide and fall on your butt instead of climbing down, it doesn't count! Now we've all gotta wait here while you do it again, and do it right this time..."

"Maybe it'd be faster if CourseMan swapped costumes with her and did it instead?" Wand offered, shrugging. "Or, uh... maybe there's a way CourseMan can help her finish it fast. Whatevs, just keep it moving, okay? We've still got two of these chores to take care of..."

If Damascus's patience wasn't already past its limit, she would indeed notice that the light of the mat hadn't gone off. Twig hadn't given any indication she could start the next trial yet, either. More troubling, the climb up this time was likely to be even more difficult, as the rope actually had become quite slick by this point.

---

Hall heard MeleeMan out while keeping her ready pose. Her grin was also fixed on her face, but less out of forcing it and more out of unassailable good cheer. "Hmm, I see what you're saying... a coach only squanders potential when he works too hands-on. Letting them push themselves and find their own limits is the quickest path to breaking those limits. Mm, you have a canny way about metaphors!" the disciplinarian told MeleeMan with a giggle, perhaps the only time he would be paid that compliment in his existence. "As for me... well, I've always believed myself to be the highly independent sort, and I've never acknowledged an imperfection of mine without the immediate intent to rectify it. Perhaps I'll rely on you to push me to that next level with whatever force you feel appropriate. Now... don't let your guard down!"

With alarming speed, Hall zipped across the room, sliding behind MeleeMan's back. Unless he was exceptionally quick, he would soon feel the swell of her bosom against his back. The masculine Navi would reason that she had probably left the ground to initiate the hold, being at a disadvantage to MeleeMan's height. She would throw her left arm around his neck, locking it around to her right upper arm, then hook her legs one-over-the-other around his stomach, leaving him playing the guessing game as to whether her skirt or the crotch of her bloomers was pressed against the small of his back. She would then put her right hand on top of his helmet and begin applying pressure by pulling her elbows together and leaning forward on his back as much as possible. For a man of MeleeMan's stature, being choked out was probably not likely, but (if he was prone to do so) it would be easy to imagine Hall using this inappropriately exceptional strength to incapacitate opponents her modeled age. Frankly, it'd be hard to imagine Wand or Twig surviving it without serious injury.

"How's that? Of course, I recognize the sloppiness in going straight for what is traditionally a finishing hold without first weakening my foe, but this is about the extent of my wrestling knowledge, I'm afraid!" Hall didn't appear inclined to save her breath in light of her situation, seeming to have a near endless fount of energy for lengthy diatribes, even as she tried to wear down MeleeMan's massive form. Furthermore, while she couldn't project quite as well in this position, her booming voice seemed to have its own echo as it reverberated through the firey Navi's helmet. "Feel free to signal your surrender before you pass out! I have no intention of brutalizing a guest coach, after all!"

Despite the different trains of his consciousness keeping mostly separate from one another, all three CourseMen winced in perfect unison as Damascus dismounted the climb much more loosely than the girls had instructed them to. Sure enough, the test failed to complete when she touched down. There was enough time in between the harsh reprimands from the girls for Courser to guess that they weren't going to set the next one up for him before Damascus was cleared as well - it would be understandable if only one could be active at a time. Instead of trying to reason or suggest anything, though, he cast eyes across to Damascus instead. The more he saw of the woman's behaviour, the more he felt as though any offer of actual help at this point wouldn't go down well at all.

"You've got this fine, don't you Damascus? Don't sweat a little miscommunication like that; I'll wait while you nip up and down again." He kept his voice down while he watched her: not whispering or anything like that, but a quiet seriousness that dispensed with all of the charm or flirtation that he'd been putting into his efforts with the girls. At the end he allowed himself a small grin and winked once to her. "It'll give me a chance to dray off a bit, before the next little test messes us up again, I'll wager." One small nod, and he was prepared to step back and leave the climb to the sword-lady; it really seemed like one of those cases where a shining knight would be far less welcome than an understanding comrade. Of course... if Damascus herself professed any want of assistance, that would be a whole other story, but for now, it gave him some more time to play with Wand and Twig.

Speaking of the twins, the experience he was getting through the clone flirting with Wandy was quite interesting. A little abashed, a touch of nerves, desire to leave the door open, but not sure about the pace... the girl seemed like she wanted the train to leave the station, very much so... but didn't want it going too quickly. The slightly-too-touchy decoy backed off just a touch as she turned her head away, removing his hand to very gently rub in the centre of her back instead; a much safer touch.

"Don't you worry, handsome over there is a perfect gentleman. He'd never press a lady to go any quicker than she wanted. Can't promise the same for myself when it's a lass as beautiful as you, but then, I can't really get too frisky with clone hands, can I?" A last small rub in the middle of her back and the decoy withdrew its arm altogether. "Besides, you're right... Shouldn't get ahead of things. It'd be very rude to want a taste of the reward before we finish the games, right?"

About this time, Courser himself was taking the time to wander over tow Wandy, still dripping wet though he was. He cleared his throat, making the clone look up, and for a brief moment Courser struggled internally against the dizziness that came of looking his own clone in the eyes and experiencing the looped feedback. Thankfully, he managed not to let any of it show, any more that an expression that may have been somewhere between disapproving and impatient. To save himself, he flicked his eyes to Wandy herself instead.

"Is this one pushing his luck, Wandy? Do you want me to tell him to back off a bit, or are you fine?" He tilted his head as he asked, one eyebrow raised. For the most part he kept his gaze on her face, but there was a moment or two when it wandered down and up again subtly. Fortune had been with him so far, at least as far as managing his decoys had gone; he'd managed to keep stray thoughts to a minimum, and had more or less avoided having to speak with any of them or himself at the same time - he always ended up mincing his words badly when that happened. It was getting a bit more difficult now, though, as the decoy facing him alongside Wandy very nearly told him to back off in the same breath as his own question.

A short distance away, his other decoy had kept its peace and quiet both while Courser chatted away elsewhere, and while Twiggy had to reprimand the test failure. When a moment of quiet came up, though, it was sporting a wry grin and matched Twiggy's low voice with a dry tone of his own. I wager the costume swapping wouldn't be a good idea anyway. What's the wager she just wants to see tight-buns over there with his shirt off... and the rest. Not that it's a bad view, mind you, but not really classy just to up and ask for it like that, no?" This clone had kept its hands to itself, folding them over its chest while it let its eyes wander around to check on Damascus for a few moments before trying again.

"So how'd you manage it anyway? You've got a sensible head on your shoulders, while your sister is so... breathless. How'd you manage to come away with with all the wits, and the better looks too, huh?" He wasn't looking directly at Twiggy while he asked, instead casually observing the rest of the gym and occasionally flicked the corner of his gaze in her direction.

Damascus internalized various furious complaints about how sliding was the only reasonable means to dismount a climbing rope, especially one covered in soap, but those protests only showed in the usual smoldering, intense anger her eyes displayed. For not the first time, she wished she had her old level of power back so that she could properly threaten those she wished to. Those days were in the past, now; the best she could do was to be as useful a servant as she could, so the least she could do was try to climb a damn rope correctly. That said... she found herself wishing she was wearing something with a little more friction. She adjusted her shirt back down over the swell of her breasts, realizing that a second trip up was going to endanger her modesty for sure. "I don't sweat anything. I'm sure you can entertain yourself for a bit longer while I do this," she responded to CourseMan, sounding irritable as ever... it wasn't clear if she was suggesting he should continue to flirt, continue staring at the view from below her skirt and top, or perhaps both.

The SP didn't spend time reprimanding her employers, seeing as professionalism was the one virtue she had to hold on to right now. As Damascus wrapped her long fingers back around the rope, she reflected over how annoying the first climb up had been and how the next would be even worse than before. She closed her eyes thoughtfully and tried to envision any tool she might use to make the trek up a little easier for herself... Unfortunately, being heavier and/or sharper would only act to her detriment here. She'd just have to take it slow and steady...

Steady turned out not to be much of an option; with the rope as slipper as it was, she found herself alternating hands, armpits, inner elbows, thighs, even her teeth at one point, just to keep a hold of the rope and make progress. Once or twice, she nearly lost her grip, only to save herself with another appendage. This time, it wasn't a matter of her outfit getting soapy and riding up here and there; it was more like watching jello wrestling or something else with a similar expectancy of the performer getting slippery, shiny, and wardrobe-malfunctiony. With one particularly close shave, Damascus grit her teeth and barely managed to avoid sliding back down by clenching both hands into fists between her thighs, which was aided by the rope sandwiched between her breasts, which were mashed together with her upper biceps. Awkwardly, she began to climb again, while her top snaked up more, until just the thin shield of her increasingly soaked, undersized bra was protecting her modesty.

Realizing this, she eased off using her chest as a guider along the rope and tried to use her thighs to perform that function, while moving slowly up the rope, inching her body like a worm's. This had another, equally agitating effect: her skirt slowly began to snake down her hips first, then more quickly down her legs, until it hung on to her calves, doing more harm than good. Still, she realized she couldn't drop it; failing to "wear" the outfit would probably mean game over, as far as the test went. With her soaked bloomers on display and her face beginning to redden a bit in spite of herself, she finally managed to get to the top. Barely, she managed to avoid dropping back to the floor and instead began to shimmy down, even more slowly than she'd gone up.

She took the time to secure her skirt in one hand, but couldn't exactly pull it back into a neat position without the use of both. That wasn't working well enough; she couldn't progress down the rope. Instead, she cradled the rope between her legs more closely than she had before, hugged it close to her upper body as well, and tried to place one hand under the other on her way down, to avoid sliding. There wasn't so much risk of a wardrobe function down below, but she had to admit that having a well lubricated rope-rubbing between her moist thighs was making her tingle in a way that wasn't exactly kosher in the company of others. By the end, she'd bundled her knees all the way up to her chest, showing remarkable flexibility, but not much speed.

... As it turned out, the huddle might have been as much for modesty as it was anything else. The bra had long since given up under the stress of the situation and moved away from her breasts, which were hidden only by her knees. As she got far enough down, she switched to use her arm for coverage, then extended her long legs below herself until her feet touched down. She pulled the bra down, first overshooting, but thankfully still covering, before fixing it over the glistening orbs of her breasts, which jiggled incessantly now that they were soaped up. "I'm finished," she announced, then glared down at the pad beneath her, as if daring it not to signal the event's end.

--------------------------------------------

"Right! Perfectionists like you and me can still be more perfect when we uh, apply ourselves," he smirked, rubbing his hands together tellingly and internally thinking of various ways he'd like to apply himself. "And I never let my guard down-"

As MeleeMan let his guard down (MeleeMan's modus operandi was more so being touch enough that he didn't have to worry about guarding himself), Hall took the opportunity to apply the choke that she'd promised she would. "Hrrgh... That's good," he responded, not lying; it was good from both a competent wrestler's standpoint and from the standpoint of one who spent a lot of time thinking about lady's boobs. He had to add a caveat, though, as a creature with the capability for compassion: "Might be a little tough for teaching your fellow cheerleaders, though. It's on another level," he warned her, not wanting to be responsible for choking deaths within the cheer team.

Her voice was deafening him a bit, so he barely heard what she was actually saying; rather than respond, he'd have to keep on doggedly with his own narrative. However... from a mix of light-headedness (the choke was actually pretty effective, being caught off guard like he was) and the physical contact... he was finding it harder and harder to think clearly. The smart thing to do would be tell her she'd done well, get her to let go, reverse the situation, and plot out a new course of action with a sound mind. Instead, he relied on a mixture of horniness and blood-lust. "For the record: don't try this against your buddies either," he advised her, reaching behind and underneath to grab hold of both of her thighs, before lifting off his feet slightly and attempting to drop over backwards, a process made somewhat easier by his top-heaviness and added back-heaviness from his hitchhiker.

Provided that all worked, he'd attempt to do something that could loosely be described as a wrestling move. Keeping hold of her thighs, he would work to scoop the cheerleading captain up and rise to his own feet slowly, bending his knees and staggering a bit as he got back to his feet. For a moment, he seemed to be raising her into the same position, but instead, he attempted to spin her around to the front of his body, grinning wolfishly as he wrapped her body tightly with both of his oversized arms. It was a bearhug, the simplest of moves, but one suited to take advantage of a size advantage. As his arms restricted, one hand took an appropriate placement, clasping at her waist, and the other took a far less appropriate one, moving from her thigh to clutch one cheek of her butt, which it enveloped in its tremendous grip. An optimist might say he was doing that to keep her level and the pressure on from one arm, rather than letting her slide out, but he'd have a hard time spinning it as anything other than an ass-grab given all the other things his hand could be doing at the moment.

"Hall, you gotta know how to break out of something like this, right?" he smirked; he was 99% sure it would be impossible to do so, but he figured challenging her would just fire her up more... and he liked a fired up lady. He wasn't exactly on his guard right now, though, so provided she wasn't ready to surrender just from the pressure he was applying (or the inappropriate touching), she'd have good chances to slip out, either through a retaliatory strike or slipping out under his arm.

The twins impatiently urged Damascus to get the show on the road again, complaining and complaining until she finally started her climb. The two watched her for a bit with restrained giggles, evidently (but understandably) finding her challenge amusing, but very quickly soured as they saw things beginning to head south. The two instead devoted their attention to CourseMan and his CourseMen. Chances were, they were as interested in holding his attention as they were taking his attention off of Damascus's spectacle.

Wand smiled a bit at the clone's words, seeming to settle back into flirting easily enough with the racier physical contact removed from the equation. "Hey, now, I don't remember promising a reward like that... but, like, let's finish up all this crap and see where the day takes us, okay...?" She diverted her smile to the real CourseMan again, flipping her hair. "Uh, nah, he's okay for now. Hey, though, I guess I should ask... These guys are like, your clones, right? So if I say something to this guy, do you hear it? Oh, and like, how many of them can you make? Cause I'm totally interested in magic tricks like that, you know? They're kinda my thing," she proclaimed, probably struggling to find a good conversation and settling on labelling CourseMan's unique ability as a "magic trick" so they'd have common ground.

For her part, Twig listened with her usual (feigned?) cool indifference. She took a little while to laugh in response to the clone's insinuations against her sister: in all likelihood, she probably thought her sister had meant that as a genuine suggestion to keep the process moving, but was more than happy to join in after she realized it was a laugh at Wand's expense. "Yeah, like, oh my God... Wandy's always like this, though. When it comes to boys she likes, she totally trips over her own feet." Twig continued listening to him, seeming to appreciate the compliments but also seeming unsure how to approach talking about those aspects herself. "Umm... you know, it's just like, uh, what you read in... I mean, it's just, you know, my own technique, right? Wandy's gotta learn you have to play it cool if you're gonna get a stud like him. I mean, uh, like y-" she started, biting her tongue and now blushing a bit in spite of her character. "Like that!"

Twig seemed happy to catch a break when Damascus finally returned to them. It had been hard going, but the frustrated SP was rewarded with a victorious sound when she touched down. Apparently, the system had some loose rules on what constituted "wearing the outfit." The sisters, on the other hand, seemed far less lenient. "Like, what the heck?!" Twig exclaimed. "What are you- j-just put it all back on, all right? Geez, were you taking your sweet time up there or what?!"

"Th-that's on purpose, right? You're totally doing that on purpose!" Wand complained, pointing her finger. "Geez, like, don't take off the costume! You're gonna get the results thrown out again, dummy!"

"Ugh, whatever. Just hurry up and get dressed back or cleaned up or whatevs, all right? I'm gonna start the next test," Twig proclaimed, fiddling with her personal windows again. "Obstacle course, up."

The mats came on under the obstacle course, as before. To start with, the obstacle course appeared to consist of ten rubber tires, arranged in two rows of five and lying on their sides. Following that was a linear set of monkey bars: a quick count would enumerate fifteen bars, each spaced about a foot apart, and high enough so a contestant of average height would have to jump to reach them and would dangle after doing so. The final challenge appeared to be a climbing wall, a sheer vertical face of wood construction that was around the height of two average people tall. Reaching the top of it in a single go, even jumping, would probably be a feat. Notably, there didn't appear to be any holds along the surface of the wall, even for a clever improviser.

"So, the tricky part about this one, I guess, is that you both need to go at once, and like the previous ones, you've both gotta pass or it doesn't count... You start with the tires, you're required to keep moving, there's a time limit where you have to put your foot in the next tire or you'll have to start ov-"

Interrupting the young woman, with very little warning, a series of fire jets began shooting out of the tires, starting with the first in sequence and pluming up one after another, each less than a second apart. Twig's jaw hung open for a moment while the fires died down, but she let out a shriek when they suddenly shot up again. "W-w-what the actual heck?" The plumes would die down, then start up again in a regular rhythm. There was a period of approximately five seconds where no fire was up at all.

While the group might still be considering this, the mat beneath the monkey bars slid open ominously, revealing an unrecognizable statue that slowly drifted upward and began peeking out of the floor at about head level, drifting back and forth in a motion reminiscent of a shark fin. Only the twins were likely to recognize it as Hall, in a position of lifting her arms, her hands cupped upward above her head. The statue was at a scale approximately one and a half times the woman herself.

Last, but not least, two additional statues of Hall appeared on either side of the climbing wall. These were oversized, as tall as the climbing wall itself. One held a marbled body-height spear, while the other cradled a mechanical clock (not lit).

"N-no way! The heck is that lunatic thinking?! There's no way I could ever do this! Is she crazy-" Twig gasped.

"Hold up, hold up. It's not us doing it, right?" Wand reminded her, gesturing to CourseMan and Damascus. "Damascus may have a little trouble with her getup, but I think these two can do it. Now give them the directions so we can keep going."

Twig continued staring at the course with wide eyes, her lips trembling as she spoke. "S-so, uh, then you have to do the monkey bars... then, when you get to the climbing wall, one of you has to help the other up, then the one up top will pull the one at the bottom up. Once you're both on the other side of the wall, you're in the clear... but if either of you take too long for any part, it'll reset. It says... ten seconds for the tires, twenty for the monkey bars, and twenty five seconds starting when you're both at the wall. Geez..."

"D-don't worry about it, Twiggy! This is what we hired those two for, right? Our intellect can still beat Hall's stupid hell-course! Right?" she proclaimed, looking back at the their sacrificial lambs hopefully.

---

"Good, is it?" Hall repeated after MeleeMan, keeping her hold on strong. "I'll have you know it's good for me, too! I never usually get to have a go like this- Ah! The twins seem to have successfully completed another taaaooagh!" The student's diatribe was interrupted as MeleeMan used momentum to force her to the ground, a good escape for anyone not worried about banging themselves up in the process. Luckily, the two were on a mat, so MeleeMan didn't have to worry about beating her up with the fall (if, indeed, he would).

"I'm afraid you won't shake me that easily!" Hall's muffled boom came from beneath him, as she dialogued incessantly in spite of her position. "I'm still- woah!" she cried, being lifted again and having her hold reversed. "This is- guh!" The young woman grit her teeth and squirmed in MeleeMan's grasp, but wasn't able to reverse his grasp. It might strike MeleeMan as very fortuitous that the gymastics room appeared to be soundproofed, as Hall's grunts of discomfort echoed around the chamber. "Eep!" she squeaked, more girlishly than usual, as her opponent did what he wanted with his hands. He would find her bottom to be, again, incredibly firm and toned for her apparent age. She quickly reset her expression to a challenging grin, however. "A... hrgh... classic bearhug, I see! Although I think your... urgh... unique modification of the technique leaves yourself a bit more... open! You could more effectively- hagh- force the air from your opponent's rrrrgh lungs if you applied pressure with, ah, both arms! Now, witness my perseverance as I..."

The woman had clearly intended for that line to coincide with her slipping from MeleeMan's grasp, but still appeared unable to do so. From the way she moved, it was clear to picture she was trying to slide upward, since she couldn't move downward. MeleeMan's arm was still holding her pretty firmly in place, though, leaving her with little to do but writhe in his grip (causing her chest to wave distressingly in his face). She appeared to be fighting the hold recklessly, and probably intended to shoot out of his grasp at the first opening she could get (regardless of the consequences). If MeleeMan relaxed either of his grips, she was likely to make her way out. Of course, there was also no telling what she intended to do if she got free.

While courser himself had opted to take the more respectful path of turning his back to Damascus' second attempt, there was nothing at all to prevent both of his clones for keeping an eye or two on her progress, and consequently the progress of her outfit into unintended places. The clone beside Wandy was subtle about it, standing alongside the prospective cheer-girl as he was, but the one beside Twig, over the other side, had ample opportunity to let his eyes wander more freely - playing casual not-too-obviously interested with her meant he had to look somewhere else for the most part, and where better to turn his relaxed gaze that at his gym partner while she completed her task?

The unusual climbing technique, admittedly born of struggle and desperation, provided quite an interesting and educational show to the careful eyes that watched, and peeking from a few different angles as he was courser picked up most of what Damascus was struggling vainly to keep hidden, all the while maintaining the illusion of politely not doing so with his back to her malfunctions. through the eyes of his decoys, Courser found himself worrying, briefly, that the slippage of her outfit was going to cause another set of problems for their test, and the main navi closed his eyes briefly and let out a small sigh of relief when he heard the system acknowledge her successful touchdown.

Over by Wand, the decoy had taken a slight half step back while the real CourseMan approached, and once it was clear she had relaxed again his fingers returned in a gentle new approach, tracing lightly over her shoulders in a massage that focused mostly just around the base and nape of her neck. It was the sort of touch that would normally be perfectly fine from a girl friend, and maybe just a bit exciting from a cute guy, so he was guessing it would fall somewhere in between the 'safe' contact from before, and the 'bit too much' grab. In an effort to keep her distracted along with this, gentleman that he was, Courser chatted to the magically-inclined girl about her questions. His face wore a soft grin while he spoke, and his own eyes never strayed from her face... not that they needed to while his clone was half watching Damascus and half appreciating Wandy's back and neck from behind.

"Clones they might be, but they keep their own secrets, I'm afraid. They are, more or less, me... if less well behaved at times... but once they're split off from me, I have no contact with them, other than dispelling them again." The decoy's gentle massaging fingers had slipped forwards to very delicately work the sides of her neck as well now, and one finger lifted up to trace over the shell of her ear with a whisper-light touch before returning to its task.

"I can't imagine what it would be like if a single navi actively had to experience all of their different viewpoints at once, as well as his own. Something like that might drive a person mad, don't you think?" Fortunately for all involved, Courser did manage to keep the wealth of bitter irony out of his voice as he spun that particular lie. He shook his head, then idly buffed his knuckle in the middle of his chest - the action was less sexy when it wasn't drawing attention to an actually open shirt, but it seemed like a habit. "Just the two is my limit for now, and keeping them in line is an effort in itself. You'll let me know if he gets more forward than your comfortable with, yes? You can relax; he can't do much beyond light touches." This time he grinned more broadly and winked to her. "You'll need the real article for any more than that." If Wandy had any particular answers for him, or other questions or requests, Courser was happy to stay and listen to her while Damascus finished up, but once the new events were beginning he turned and casually made his way over to the start point of the obstacle course to watch it unfold. Behind him, the decoy added more in a whisper, clearly waiting until his 'boss' was out of earshot.

"Besides... any mischief you get up to with me doesn't count anyway. Pretty boy won't know, and after all, it's not like I'm actually real or anything." The whisper came quite close to Wandy's ear by the time it finished, though the clone was still only making actual contact with his fingertips and hadn't stepped in any closer.

Elsewhere, the second decoy let his hands clasp casually behind his back and turned his eyes to the side so he could look at Twig without obviously turning his head to her. The way she stumbled over referring to the complexity of the Courser collective was quite cute.

"Don't worry, my lips are sealed. Clone I may be, but I keep my own secrets. We're more or less him..." he paused as if searching for the right way to put it, "but once we're split off, he's got no contact with us. Your secrets are safe with me, don't worry." After a few moments he did turn his head slightly, raising an eyebrow as he looked towards Twig more squarely, a smile curling his lip just enough to show a slight flash of teeth.

"We can't get up to much beyond light touches anyway; you'd need the real article for anything more than that." It would be up to Twig whether she interpreted that 'we' as meaning him and the other clones, as before... or this particular clone and herself, though the mental jump to the latter would be quite easy to make. The decoy chuckled softly and glanced forward again. "Besides, it wouldn't count anyway... Pretty boy wouldn't be aware of it, and it's not like I'm actually real in any meaningful way. All the benefits and none of the strings attached, right?" Obviously, not all of the benefits, given what he'd just said about his own limitations, of course, but it was a way of drawing her thoughts to those things the decoy couldn't quite do, without being the one who actually brought it to mind. On that note, Damascus had finally finished her challenge, and it was time to move onwards.

Distractions were many and varied at this point, between Damascus' wardrobe disasters and the sadistic new challenge that spread itself out before them. Courser had wandered over to the start point and folded his arms over his chest. Somewhere along the way he had reclaimed the outfit's pom-poms, which were now the only dry part of his get-up. His features grew grim as the difficulty of the basic test swiftly amped itself up before them.

"You know... I'm beginning to think that this Hall character probably shouldn't be the one in control of a girls' cheer squad try-out. You've got to be fit and capable, sure, but this seems like a bit much to me... What do you think, Damascus?" He spared the sword-woman a glance, though kept it brief if she was still fixing her uniform. "Bit excessive for a high school test, wouldn't you say?" He turned back so he could look at Twig and Wand in turn. "I'm beginning to think you ladies did the right thing calling us in after all. This hardly seems fair otherwise. Don't worry, we'll see that everything gets satisfied." He had turned his body such that Wand wouldn't be able to see him spare a quick wink with one eye towards Twig while he spoke, before looking back to the test before them. Watching the rhythm of the fire plumes Courser began a very slight tap of one foot.

"Plenty of time. I'm guessing the time count starts when either of us begin, but if we've both got the be at the end for the last part, then we'll probably need to be right on top of each other for doing the first two stages. There's enough window for two to get through the fire there one after the other, but it'll be tight, and waiting for a second round will take too long, if it's all on the same timer." The fire plumes roared through their cycle again. "I'll lead off with the tires and you follow, Damascus - I can spot you with my currents for the last few hops if the fire catches up. Pity MeleeMan wasn't game for the snazzy uniform... he looked pretty fire proof." Shaking his head, his eyes moved along to the second part.

"If that's still just an overhead climb, I'd be surprised. All I can guess is that we'd be best to keep ourselves away from that thing in the pit as we go. You're pretty flexible though, and I'm limber, so I think we'll be fine. I wouldn't be surprised if it tried to grab your feet or something, so stay sharp." Courser couldn't resist the pun and flashed an amused smile to Damascus with a wink. "You lead that bit, ok. I'll be right behind you. Since we're on a clock, I think the best way to do the last bit will be with a straight out boost and catch. I'm half expecting spear lady there to interfere, but best we can do is run with it. When you get off the bars, prep for giving me a launch and we'll see what happens. If I make it up without getting stabbed, then I can foot-lock the top and pull you up too. Sound like a plan?" He was looking to Damascus for an honest appraisal at this point; he wasn't about to start his run if she had any concerns or worries, or wanted to suggest something else first. For their own part, the decoys hadn't had anything else to say while Courser went over the more serious details of how they were going to approach the task. His voice had settled back to a more serious tone while he spoke to Damascus; he still sounded mostly relaxed, but he wasn't putting on any other pretences when he spoke to her.

Damascus really hadn't been expecting that she'd be the one to start slipping out of her clothes, with the other three (not counting the CourseMan clones) being ostensibly a good bit hornier than she was, but that was the way things had played out. Thankfully, the worst she got out of it was some tongue-lashing from the girls and a bit of discrete ogling from her ally. She'd been as worried as the others, if not more so, that she was going to invalidate her run, but that hadn't happened. She did her best to follow the demands of the twins, pulling her wet shirt back over her slippery bra. It was almost worse trying to do that, though, because the bra wanted to slip back off center again just from the rub. Frowning a bit more than usual, she decided that as long as nothing was poking out, they'd have to be content.

Next up for the motley crew was an evaluation of Hall's next test/death trap, which proved to pose significantly greater challenges than a slippery rope. Her steel form could probably help her in the fire if needed, or against a stabbing spear, but the second test actually provided the greatest source of fear as far as she was concerned. For one thing, she didn't think her powers could ostensibly help much, except perhaps solidifying her feet if the statues was going to try to gobble them like a shark somehow. More so, however, she couldn't see what was inside the hole that had opened from this angle... she had a hatred of holes since an unfortunate incident during virus busting a while back, but more so, a guarded fear of large bodies of water. Beyond her illogical worry over rust or her tendency to sink when in steel-form, she simply couldn't swim. The possibility of going up in flames while covered in soap wasn't even registering next to the threat of descending into a watery grave. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to decide whether it was prudent to share her worries with her allies, but in the end, her pride won out; she kept it under wraps.

She nodded slowly, taking in a deep breath, before exhaling and turning her eyes back to CourseMan. "Agreed. A bit much," she murmured. The worst part was that, like CourseMan, she had to admit that MeleeMan's presence in this challenge would be a significant boon... He wouldn't worry about the fire and he'd probably have the strength to smash the statues if they proved to be significant hindrances during the test. "You should probably go first. Worst case scenario, I can switch to my metallic form... it won't help us complete the test but it will stop my flesh from melting from my bones. Unless the fire is too intense... then I might start melting. Well. Let's simply hope it doesn't come to that," she murmured, looking off to the side in a way that didn't look so much nervous as uncomfortable in her inability to properly assuage anyone's fears of her potential death by fire.

The pun wasn't lost on Damascus, but her face betrayed little reaction; she wasn't a great audience for any type of amusement, jokes perhaps most of all. "I hope it's simply going to attempt to slash or cut my feet, in which case, I can use my steel skin to deflect it... But if it is something that will attempt to drag me, I'm going to have to swing up to the bars, and will potentially lose some time. We should both be ready to free each other if we get caught... I may be able to destroy the statue. I do have at least one powerful ability available to me," she continued. "The third challenge, however, should be easy enough... I can get you to the top easily enough and deflect attacks with my steel skin. I'll have to deactivate it when it's time to pull up, though, unless you're stronger than you look..." she smirked a little there, allowing her eyes to look CourseMan up and down again. It was an odd thing, that the closest she'd gotten to flirting along at this point was positing the question of whether or not he had the strength to lift her in steel statue form.

She turned her red eyes once again on her employers, then engaged them in some rare conversation. "You two... I did have some questions. First of all, I understand about the tires, but concerning the monkey bars and the climbing wall: is it necessary that we do these just as they appear, or would it matter if, for instance, we leaped the pit rather than climbing the monkey bars? Or if, for example, I became a grappling hook, CourseMan took me over the wall, and we finished that way? Is it necessary that one of us reach the top first, then the other?" she questioned, keeping a flat tone and a voice that betrayed no expectation or naive hope that her schemes would work. "Another question... Just how large is the school cheer team? How many are on it? I'm finding it difficult to imagine many of your peers passing this evaluation. Despite my master's earlier taunts... This test is no laughing matter."

---------------------------------------------

MeleeMan could still barely hear his wrestling buddy, but he was at the very least enjoying his part of that tango. His mind thought, with a feeling of euphoria, "Aaaaw, damn... It's been way too long since I've felt a nice girl's ass." If he was less of an egotist and less prone to blocking out memories that offended his machismo, he might realize he'd probably never actually grabbed a lady's bottom before, nice or otherwise. With the hold working as well as it was and his scheme seeming more or less amazingly bulletproof at this point... MeleeMan found himself with mixed emotions. On one hand, he was reveling in the nicety of having a wrestling match with an enthusiastic partner who so happened to have a very nice rack and a booty to match. On the other hand, squeezing the life out of a girl as she wriggled and gave occassional grunts of pain made him feel a rare bit of guilt. Seeing himself as the perfect male specimen and being a huge chauvinist, he also engaged in that occasional belittlement of girls, and this made him feel especially awkward, using his supreme masculine strength to fight a high-school girl...

In the end, pity, or guilt, or chivalry, or whatever you might call it lost out; he was much more concerned with riding a good thing for as long as he could. "Ha... I guess there's always room to improve, huh?" he responded, not having fully understood her criticism of his technique, but recognizing that she was offering pointers, at least. "Speaking of which, as great as this hold is, there's always room for a twist!" he smirked, relaxing his hold just a bit. At this point, she'd probably try to bolt free of his grasp. He hadn't been planning for that, exactly, but whatever she was going to do, she'd have to be quick. His plan was to keep one hand on her buttock, torque her body to spin until she was upside down, then grab both arms around her waist, just above the swell of her hips. If he managed to, for one, he was thinking gravity might work its magic on her skirt... it was a pervy thing to do, but hey, all bets were off. For two, he would have her in a tombstone piledriver motion, which he intended to threaten her with, while pausing his unsavory behavior of going all out against a girl. In fact, at this point, he was feeling curious to see what she'd do with the opportunity at a reversal, so he planned to leave her hanging like that for a while and see what came of it. On another note, from this angle, if she wasn't careful, she'd probably come chest or face to groin with him and learn just how enthusiastic he was about their coaching session. "Ha ha! I've got a million moves, Hall, and I'm gonna try every one of em on you," he chuckled, feeling confident and speaking honestly: he could really think of a lot of things he'd love to do with her, as long as his luck held up. "But what are you gonna show me?" he taunted, eager to see what she had up her sleeves (and her skirt, but that was already a work in progress).

While it would be fair for either of the twins' minds to be racing with the possibilities of what kinds of "off the books" fun they could get up to with CourseMan, and their collective wheels had most likely begun spinning with the question, the task at hand was not something that could be easily ignored. At least for her part, Twig looked a bit reassured that CourseMan could still flirt in light of the danger he was volunteering for, and gave a hint of a grin at his secret wink. Unfortunately, whatever reassurance the two had received from CourseMan's calm demeanor was pretty easily scorched away by Damascus's blunt interpretation of the danger she was about to face. "This is totally insane," Twig commented, crossing her arms.

"Y-yeah... I mean, I heard Hall, like, humble-bragging about how she did this kinda stuff, but I never guessed the other cheerleaders had to do it, too! Do you think, like, BubblegumGirl seriously went through those flaming tires?!" Wand agreed, her eyes still saucer-like.

The two noted Damascus's question, seeming surprised that she was talking to them at all. Twig cleared her throat and then began to answer. "Well, I wouldn't recommend leaping the pit. If you remember the last test, it, like, bonged you when you fell on your butt, right? So the way you do it seems to matter. But, like, it didn't matter that Courser helped himself out, so there's probably some bending allowed. Sooo... I'd say you wanna grab every bar, but if you find a way to cheat on the wall climb, I don't see how it could mess up, as long as both of you made it over."

"You can really turn into a grappling hook? That's kinda cool," Wand mused, her habitual disrespect seeming curtailed by her current shakiness. "Uh, but yeah, I'd recommend that one of you needs to get up first, then the other. If you both arrive at the same time, the test might beep. It might be able to detect that."

"Still, Courser sounds like he's got a plan together, right? Just follow his lead and I'm sure, uh... you won't melt, or whatevs," Twig finished, fanning herself with her hand nervously.

The course continued its cycles without change, daring two challengers to brave it. CourseMan and Damascus would probably want to take things one step at a time (Damascus in particular, based on her wariness of part two).

---

"Always! Any who doesn't hrrrrgh strive for perfection isn't worthy to stay in this school! At Elec East High, we never settle, always strive! As far as, ngh, twists, allow me to show you one of my own... let me know if your head is about to pop from your neck!" the student boomed ominously.

As MeleeMan had expected, Hall shot from his grasp immediately. What he probably hadn't expected was the speed with which she did so: with the arm that was actually holding the bearhug displaced, even temporarily, Hall bolted upward as if MeleeMan's more lecherous hand wasn't even there. With a force that felt less like a girl and more like a charging bull, the woman left the floor and actually sprang into the air. Unfortunately for her, the coach had already begun trying to spin her, so whatever she'd planned to do became less a graceful amateur hold and more of a flying bomber.

With alarming impact, Hall's posterior crashed into MeleeMan at his collarbone, throwing him to the floor since he hadn't tried to brace. Again, the two were lucky there was a gymnastics mat to break the landing.

MeleeMan, however, was the luckier of the two. It quickly became clear why he hadn't been able to impede her jump with his remaining hold. The student council president had jumped clean out of her skirt, leaving it clenched in MeleeMan's fist as she, alone, escaped. This left her straddling his pecs in a reverse position, her impressive bloomer-clad behind resting inches from his chin and her sweating legs on either side of his helmet.

The girl turned slightly to look behind herself. She wasn't blushing, but she did have an edge of incredulity to her usual confident smile. "That reversal didn't go quite as planned. While I pride myself on my boldness, I fear this position might be a bit too bold. I command a certain degree of respect... nay, demand it! Therefore, I must request the return of my garment to regain my respectability if we are to proceed. Do you mind? Rest assured, this is not an admission of defeat, but simply a time-out for our friendly competition." She didn't actually rise, holding her position with her hands flat on the mat to either side of MeleeMan's abs. Luckily, she wasn't paying much attention to what was in front of her, keeping her gaze fixed on MeleeMan behind (and beneath) her.

Damascus had the foresight to ask a couple of extra questions which, Courser had to admit to himself, were kind of important now that he thought about it a bit more himself. The answers from the twins, too, were information that he was glad to now have, in retrospect. For the most part, though, it sounded like the plan was going ahead more r less unchanged, and Damascus was on the same page. He did spare a quick side glance towards the sword woman as she 'reassured' the others. Tough a she seemed to be, he had to assume that her comments about genuine danger were mostly in jest... although she didn't really seem one for jesting either. Worrisome.

"I'm sure if there was any life-threatening danger involved here, Hall wouldn't be staying in charge of things for very long. " He turned back to the first part of the course and cracked his knuckles. "Though, the girls are right at least in as much as transforming into anything else is probably out - anything that would stop you wearing the costume is probably a risk. We'll be fine... Well, let's get to it then. All ready Damascus? Stay close behind me for the first stage, the window doesn't give us all day."

He took a gliding step forward, then let his water current dissipate - the tires seemed like they wanted proper steps, so gliding over them was sure to be illegal. Still standing behind Wand, the primary decoy had continued massaging her neck and shoulders gently, but stood in a little closer now as Courser himself prepared to start. The fingertips came in to the centre of her back and trailed down for a moment while it murmured in her ear.

"Boss may need me while he does this next bit, maybe..." The hands slipped down to rest very lightly on the top of her hips. "So don't fret if I disappear suddenly, alright beautiful? You know I won't be able to stay away from you long..." The fingertips withdrew from the slightly more daring position after he finished reassuring her, though they dragged delicately back in doing so, giving the impression of pulling her hips to him without actually doing so. A few moments later they had returned to the far safer shoulder rub.

Across the way, the clone that was keeping Twiggy company didn't offer any such warning or reassurance - it wasn't like she wanted him near her or anything! A faint smile curled on the decoy's lip as it was amused by its own internal joke on her attitude. Rather than continue flirting in any kind of obvious way, Twig's clone boy looked across to her, arms folded across his chest, if in a more relaxed way than hers, and still grinning.

"It does make me wonder, you know... If this is all because the tests are meant to get harder as we complete them, what do you think the sit-ups would have looked like as the fourth challenge?" He chuckled softly and arched an eyebrow to Twiggy.

Back at the main event, Courser had waited for one more cycle of the fire, settling into a ready, loose stance, then as the fresh wave of flame plumes began he moved forward, setting foot into the first tire barely a moment after the flames had disappeared from it. Rather than waiting for the window to be fully open, he had begun at a time that made it look like he was practically chasing the fire up the run, rather than the other way around. Ideally, it would give Damascus as much time as possible without her having to step on his heels, and the first few steps weren't a problem close to the marching flames, as long as he was still thoroughly damped down from his quick rinse off before.

While he certainly wasn't anywhere near as strong as MeleeMan, or even as strong as Damascus, probably, and he was significantly less physically sturdy than he looked, Courser was very definitely nimble and quick with his feet. He didn't move quite as quickly as the flames advanced, but almost, and the final set of flares had only finished about a second or two ahead of him as he stepped in the last tires and jumped clear. Come to think of it, the only test here that was a real trial of physical strength - the area Courser was most sorely lacking in - had been the one that MeleeMan had broken initially. Quite a blessing in disguise for him, it turned out. He vaguely wondered what the big guy was getting up to with Hall. She hadn't come storming in yet, so it was probably working, whatever it was.

Courser landed on the far end of the tire section with one foot and turned neatly, dropping to a crouch slightly off to the side to give Damascus plenty of room to finish and go past him to begin the second phase when she was ready. He remained facing the tires and had brought his wave whips out so that he could watch Damascus finish up and send a water current towards any flames that caught up to her if something went unexpectedly wrong.

"Hmph. I suppose that, in a certain sense, it's safest to play this test by the books. In another sense... it's not safe at all," Damascus complained quietly, narrowing her eyes at the pit again. "Then again, if one is doing this test at all, best to do it the way that ensures one will only have to do it once... one way or another." She regretted that she seemed unable to stop dropping ominous footnotes, but the possibility of failure was certainly on her mind. Courser brought up another good point: as hard a time as she was having keeping her clothes on in her human form, it would be even more difficult for her to do so if she was a sword or a grappling hook. She did smirk at one of his comments, though. "The world of the net is vast and endless... almost incomprehensible. Unpredictable. If you think that the same laws that govern the limited outside world apply here in the net, you need to take a look around you. In the real world, certainly, it's hard to imagine such a ludicrous selection practice being put into place by a cheer-leading captain. In the net, well... it's hardly the strangest thing to imagine."

Her weight and tendency to turn into heavy steel might make Damascus seem ill-suited to hopping from one leg to another quickly through tires, but she was actually rather able, having the sure-footedness necessary to be a sword-fighter, which she thought of herself as in addition to a sword. She'd follow along in his steps; her flailing breasts made it clear why she wouldn't typically dress in this way or at least wear a more supportive and properly sized bra, but other than that, she was fairly graceful in her motions. Provided nothing else nasty happened, she'd make it to the pit. She reflected as she did that she much rather would have CourseMan lead on this one; the anxiety of wondering whether she was going to fall or get pulled into the pit almost caused her to hesitate. Thankfully, that was counteracted by her need not to have to go through the flames or the pit twice, so she kept moving as fast as her body would allow her.

The sword lady jumped up onto the bars, hooking both hands and starting across as quickly as her long arms would allow while clenching her teeth. reflexively, she found herself hardening her feet. She didn't know what to expect from the statue beneath her, but she knew that whether it wanted to grab and pull her feet, slash them, or even just tickle him, she'd rather have unfeeling steel on the pads than she would flesh. CourseMan would find it easy enough to follow behind her; she hadn't allowed herself to look down at all, though... If the test was just as it looked, she'd probably barrel back through, but if something was about to come out of the pit at her, she'd never know. Damascus instead saw, at the end of the climb, the faces of Hall looming closer. She was already starting to hate that face...

-----------------------------------------

... Almost as much as MeleeMan was starting to grow fond of it, though MeleeMan wasn't exactly looking at Hall's face right now. He was lucky he was still wearing his helmet at this point, partially because his head needed the protection, and partially because it would make the complete fixation of his eyes a little less obvious, even from this angle. If he could just think logically, he'd realize that following Hall's instructions appeared to be what she liked, and therefore, giving her the skirt back would be a way to get some brownie points and get back to his fun. However, MeleeMan wasn't one for logic, and right now, he was feeling luckier than he had in... perhaps all of his living memory. The girl had said it herself: boldness. If he let this opportunity to enjoy himself slip away, he might end up spending another few months listening to Rania's nagging, doing NetPolice chores, and generally finding himself far away from the touch of a woman. "The most important part of my Soul Fist discipline: no hesitation," he reminded himself, although he'd really never formally defined any such rules.

MeleeMan's expression met Hall's with exactly the same look: smirking, slightly bemused. He wanted to get hands on, but he felt like for now, he might get just as much out of pressing his luck another way. "Oh, well, that's good for me, huh? Cause if we were still going, I'd say you just took me off my feet and covered me in a pin at the same time, which, crap, I guess that'd mean you beat me. But since that's not what you're saying, I guess the jury's still out as to who's better?" he asked, before frowning slightly. "Wait... where was I going with this?" he asked himself, wondering how any of this worked into his plan. There was no real plan, but damn, he felt like there was when he started. At this point, he took stock of what options he had available to him... the skirt in one hand, perhaps, but just as importantly, Hall was almost addicted to eye-contact, almost as dedicatedly as he found his own eyes focusing elsewhere. That meant that it was pretty unlikely that she was watching anything below his chest level.

"Listen, Hall... that technique of yours worked, didn't it? What's 'too bold,' huh? I say, if you've got a weapon like that in your ass-," MeleeMan continued, almost biting his tongue as he nearly let his intentions spill out, "... arsenal and it works, then figuring out how to counter it is my problem. So you understand how I'm feeling right now, don't you? I need training on this! That hip attack of yours is no joke. I've been wrestling for a long time and I don't run into core strength like this often, or anyone using it the way you do." "That I do not." "So the way I see it, it's gonna eat at me as a coach if we don't keep at this problem until I conquer it! Tell you what: you break the time out, just for a moment, and help me get through my problem with handling these moves of yours. I'd give you the skirt back, but I don't know, I hadn't actually been brought off my feet until you jumped out of it, pretty much on your own, as I remember it. That could mean something! You might have actually come up with a new technique!" he added, unsure of whether he was on a roll or losing his audience. It sounded quite good to him, but then, this was a subject he liked the sound of in general. "This could really be a breakthrough in coaching, or wrestling, maybe both. You gotta keep pushing forward," he recommended with a smile that was as confident as it was delusional. "I know that technique just now was accidental, but if you can replicate it somehow or build on it, I think we could be on the uh... cusp of greatness, as they say."

In the mean time... he gently sneaked her skirt into the front of his pants. Thankfully, he also wore an undersuit under those pants, so it wasn't as vulgar as it seemed. Still pretty vulgar, yeah, but if this went south and he needed to find a way to both stall time and maybe get some added fun out of this, he figured it could work. If she noticed, he'd just say he meant to tuck it away to keep it safe. If she insisted on getting it back, well, he could always swing around and tease that all's fair in love and wrestling. If she still didn't take that... she'd have to reach in and get it back, and that might be fun in its own way. He hoped to milk the game for all its worth, whatever it was worth.

Wand and Twig both stood straight, neither fiddling with trying to look disinterested or distracted as they focused on the trial CourseMan and Damascus were about to tackle. Of course, that didn't mean they couldn't be distracted. In an attempt to save face, Wand was clearly trying to keep her eyes on the daring competitors, but CourseMan's clone would find himself able to basically ghost-write her reactions as he pleased. Relatively light touches made her clench from nerves that clearly weren't just from the tense situation, and even though his more suggestive actions were really only the faintest hints of those actions themselves, he found he was able to get a hitched gasp out of her.

CourseMan might not be surprised to see that Twig was keeping half an eye on that even as she tried to watch CourseMan's and Damascus's efforts. She rolled her eyes and sighed again, turning her head to the clone that had addressed her. "I dunno, probably, like, a thousand sit ups in ten seconds with an elephant on your chest? Whatevs. Who knows with that psycho... I don't even wanna think about what's gonna happen next..." The girl went back to watching the challengers with apparent focus... which was normally a tell-tale sign that her mind was on something else entirely. "Was she seriously expecting us to finish all of this stuff ourselves...? Maybe she was messing with us for some reason... I've got, like, no idea..."

As for the genuine article and his mission partner for the evening, the two managed to beat the heat with little extra effort. It might have been more tense and a little hotter than usual, but both of them were in excellent physical condition and possessed of above-average coordination. Helpfully, the individual portion of the mat behind them lit up when they made their way through and a noise played. That relief might be secondary only to the fact that Damascus had managed to clear the segment without getting her buns burned.

It wasn't like there wasn't still a chance for that to happen, though. The two would need to clear the next two segments in succession, or risk being sent back to the start. With that concern fresh in her mind, Damascus tried to lead the way on the monkey bars. She'd probably find herself happiest if she didn't look down. That wouldn't be two much of an issue, though, as there was something else that was likely to catch her attention.

The statue that had been moving below was no longer below at all. As soon as Damascus began her cross, the statue had darted to the end of the course she was moving towards. It rose eerily but quickly, its cupped hands ending up about at the height of Damascus's hips, but still a fair distance away. As Damascus continued making her way across, the statue slowly began moving towards her, picking up speed as it traveled. With no warning, a blast of light suddenly shot out from its hands, flooding the senses of anyone looking into it like an oncoming headlamp. CourseMan's vision would probably be blocked by Damascus's body, sparing his sight, but it'd be hard to miss what was happening. Even after its trap had been sprung, the statue continued moving forward, its luminous palms threatening to crash into anyone who didn't pull their body up quickly. On the sidelines, Wand and Twig were both shouting something to that effect, but combined with the situation the two were in and the fact that they were shouting over one another, it'd probably be hard to make out.

---

Hall smiled more tightly as MeleeMan pressed his luck, even as she pressed his chest. "No, I must confess, I'd temporarily forgotten pins were even part of the equation. It's not as though I can very well earn a three count with no referee. Regardless, I can't very well take credit for any win that comes by luck and not skill, strategy, and effort."

She continued hearing MeleeMan out without changing position (luckily, that wasn't a reprieve MeleeMan was really seeking). MeleeMan would observe her eyes open widely at his slip-up. For as batty as she seemed to be, she seemed to have a sharpness, at least in observation. All the same, her smile didn't falter, and she let her eyes fall back to her usual level enthusiasm as he kept going. "Come, now! I think you're giving me far too much credit for my slip-up. Please try not to focus on my tushie too much!" she boomed, a line that might be alarming for MeleeMan for any number of reasons. "I truly feel it was incidental in my takedown, and we have no reason to be teasing each other for our failures. Still, if you're concerned about your abilities, I would be remiss not to offer my help in improvement. I believe your issue was becoming overconfident and underestimating my ability, or failing to properly read the situation."

By this point, MeleeMan had luckily finished sneaking away her garment, so he was in the clear when she suddenly rotated in place, sitting facing a perpendicular angle to him. MeleeMan had gotten pretty lucky there: Hall swung her right leg across MeleeMan's lower body in order to accomplish this, very nearly clipping his offending member in the process. It was a safe bet she still hadn't noticed it. She rose to her feet, reaching down to help MeleeMan up. "How about this... You can feel free to put me in any hold you wish. I'll make my best attempt at escaping, though I have no doubt you'll be bringing your usual A-game. At a point of your choosing, you will attempt to change your hold into a finishing maneuver, as I sense you were attempting to before. I'm confident we'll both see improvement in this manner. We do need to hurry and wrap it up, though... I'm sure there's only so much time left before Wand and Twig will be finishing up their third trial! I'm looking forward to seeing the looks on their faces when they see the surprise I planned up for their fourth..." The Navi grinned genuinely, and if it looked ominous, it was probably entirely from a projection of the observer's guilt.

As he watched Damascus follow through after him with an agile precision, courser was vaguely relieved that the first part, at least, hadn't had any new surprises. He turned and stood as his partner passed him, and let her get one rung of distance on the next challenge before jumping up after her, hanging lightly from one hand on the first rail. He had let his wave whips disperse for this bit, since they weren't likely to be of any help, but a small part of him was equally sorry that he couldn't realistically cross the bars and hold onto the pom-poms at the same time, either. Oh well.

As soon as Damascus had started, the threatening Hall statue had activated, but Courser himself couldn't see too clearly exactly what was going on. Fortunately, he had the extra eyes of his clones to help out, and they gave him different angles to take in the increased challenge from. This also meant, less fortunately, the that light flare dazzled both decoys, who had been watching on, and even though his own actual vision was fine, the feedback made Courser blink and wince.

The statue was coming right for Damascus, ahead of him, and Courser could only guess that it hoped to shove them both off the bars, and cause a restart that way... at least, he hoped that was its whole goal. He had taken one or two more rungs after Damascus with a smooth ease, but when it became clear they were under assault, Courser did what he tended to do in any hostile situation: get out of the way. In this particular case, it meant that he let both hands come to the same bar, then swung and curled his body tight. Once again the viewing audience would be treated to the views of his gravity-obeying skirt while he thrust his heels up through the gap, braced with his heels for a moment, then pulled through so that he was left balanced on his hands alone, still holding onto the bar as before, but now in a handstand above the apparatus instead. The time it took Courser to execute the shift precluded him from watching out for Damascus, or suggesting that she do the same to avoid the attack, at least directly, but he had an extra trick.

Standing alongside Twig, the more casual and reserved-playing decoy had been showing very little actual reaction while courser himself was concentrating, but that more or less played into the aloofness neatly. Once the attacking statue began, however, he unfolded his arms, and looked side-long at Twig with a small sigh. Both twins had begun calling out the danger fervently, so the first thing the clone did was to gently put an arm over the supposedly aloof girl's shoulder, patting in a calming manner.

"Figures... Easy there, don't fret gorgeous, I'll be back in a second." He nodded, then removed the arm and promptly dissolved into a vapour of shadows. A moment later, the second decoy was slipping into sight again, this time off to the side of the test, and a little bit ahead of Damascus; he was out in the open, and hopefully it would be obvious enough from the formation that it was another clone forming itself out of shadow and light, and not the real deal. He cupped hands to his mouth to call out to her, though it probably wasn't necessary.

"Oi, Damascus! If it keeps havin' a go at you underneath, then see if you can't get on top of the bars instead! Make sure you keep touching every rung as you go, though, ok?" The decoy didn't stick around for long after shouting its warning, though it didn't reform beside Twig right away - only a few seconds had passed since they had started the second stage, but a few more would pass before the decoy returned to stand alongside its designated twin. In the mean-time, the real Courser had begun to smoothly moved from rung to rung, one hand at a time while maintaining his handstand on top of the bars. He was prepared to flip underside again if anything came his way up top - it was a very fast and simple matter of buckling his arms and diving through the gap between the bars again, while maintaining a tight grip on the rung, but he was hoping that the challenge was only counting for attacking climbers on the underside. If he was lucky, it might remain smooth sailing, until he reached the end and could jump free - which he planned to do with a stylish and fancy-looking flip back to his feet, if all went well. If not, well, he'd deal with that when it happened.

When the decoy did return, it faded into sight beside Twig covering it mouth with the back of one hand in a small yawn, then draped an arm over her shoulder in a companionable and non-threatening way - though if the aloofness was a mask for interest she might enjoy the sense of contact, especially since it wasn't like she was really touching the real Courser anyway. The clone shook its head as he watched on.

"This is going to get more horrible before it gets better, isn't it? Though I guess, what's the worst she can do for an endurance test, really?" It was probably tempting fate to ask, but he clone turned its head so it could offer Twig a brief wink, not dissimilar to the one Courser had favoured her with shortly before. "Besides, Pretty Boy seems to have it mostly nailed, don't you think? Sure is a flexible one..." He wasn't exactly sure if drawing her attention to the male-model-esque display of Courser hand-walking his way across the bars in a too-short skirt that had fallen the wrong way would help with calming her down, but it was worth doing all the same.

Across the room, the events of the test were actually one of the more minor points of interest for the decoy that was having its fun with Wandy instead. The small starts from his delicate touches, the barely muted gasps from his more risque suggestions... even if the mission itself went belly up, Courser could certainly say he'd had a lot of fun today, so far. Courser had already made sure to confirm clearly to her that she should say something if anything was too much or too far for her, and as far as the decoy was concerned, that was leave to, very gradually of course, get more adventurous. While Wand was more firmly focused on the trial unfolding, the decoy moved its softly touching fingers from the massage, into a set of fingertips moving with almost aching slowness down the middle of her back. He had steppe din a little closer, to, and the girl would probably be able to feel his, admittedly very minimal, presence right behind her now. He lowered his head to brush her hair with one cheek and exhaled a very slight breath just above her ear. Unfortunately for the clone, she wouldn't feel a passage of air from that alone, but she was likely to hear it, at least.

His finger tips reached the small of her back just as the action hotted up for the contestants, and when Wandy began to call out her warnings, the decoy parted his hands, letting his fingertips glide around her waist and forward, dragging points of sensation with them until he had rested both hands on the front of her hips.

"Shhh, beautiful. They've got it under control, don't worry. See how calm Pretty Boy is?" The hands were around her hips in what might be seen as quite a forward or intimate gesture, given that the decoy was standing directly behind her at the time, but they didn't stroke, or press or rub... he just held them there, still, but present. The reassurance came in the form of a whisper delivered close to her ear and if he was right, the way she'd been responding so far would probably cut her shouts short quite swiftly. He was eager to see if he could get another one of those sharp intakes from her - that cut short gasp of tension from a lady wanting, but nervous. "And flexible too... can't you just imagine getting your hands on that somewhere private?" This whisper was quiet enough that it really did need to be right by her ear to be heard, and the clone followed it with what could only be the suggestion of teeth nipping at the top of her ear, but still just barely the suggestion of sensation - the decoy was being cautious of its limitations still.

Damascus saw the statue in front of her rising, threatening to block her path if she didn't pull up a bit. She knew she couldn't afford to just hang on the bars, though... getting hit by the statue and falling into the pit below would be a terrible outcome, but almost as bad would be getting across the monkey bars too slowly and ending up having to go through the test again. An already bad situation became even worse when a light began emitting from the statue. Dodging the statue by pulling up and continuing to move forward was great and all, but she had to be able to see the bars for this to work at all, given that at this rate, she was going to have to lift her body up and hook the bars with her legs, then pull up, in order to clear the statue with her lower body. From somewhere nearby her... not directly behind her, which freaked her out for a moment, until she remembered CourseMan's little cloning trick... Damascus heard her ally call out instructions. She clicked her teeth in response. "A fine suggestion, but too slow. Feeling my way across the top, bar by bar, crawling like a baby will get me across sometime within the next five minutes; I don't have that long." It didn't necessarily occur to her to handstand her way across the top. It was a good way for CourseMan to get across, but she was only athletic as far as battle skills concerned... she was swift, but not gymnastically talented.

She had a solution in mind, though. Her tool ability might come in at least a little handy after all, she figured, as she cupped her fingers loosely around the bars, tightly enough to hold on with just the last 2/3s of her fingers and arcing her thumb as if holding a much thicker bar. She swung her body once, very hard, experimentally. That was all she'd have time for, so it would have to do... Quickly, her hands morphed, keeping their shape, but joining each finger together and thinning out, until the ends of her forearms ended in curved sickles instead of fingers. With this, she'd lose some of the natural limitations of the strength of human digits and also increase her reach a bit. Damascus would need both boons before continuing on with the next step of her plan, beginning to swing herself hard and fast from rung to rung, clenching her eyes and teeth tight while swiping at each bar above her with the sickle hands. On the off chance that she missed one, which was possible, but hopefully unlikely given that she'd first connect with her steel forearms and slide them down to the cup of the sickle's blade each time, she'd attempt to extend the forearm out as a chain and use the hook hands to stay connected.

That would allow her to move forward; the problem was that she had to clear the statue still. She was moving fast forward; with the statue doing the same, they would collide on the current course. To resolve the matter, she extended one leg out, summoned her sheath back briefly around one leg, then fired it off as as spring. She listened for the sound of a collision; once it came, she would attempt to pull her body up flat against the bars above her, until she heard the whoosh of the statue rushing by below her. From there, she would lower back down and attempt to finish the fast swinging across. There was a chance the statue would "wisen up" and reverse course once it realized she was behind it, but she'd have to take the risk. With just her hands, she couldn't move quickly across the top, and although she'd considered turning her knees to wheels and simply riding across the top, she was worried that wouldn't seem "athletic" or "correct" enough to make the grade. With any luck, she'd make it to the end and CourseMan would be close behind, having not the same urgency of movement but having the aid of being able to see what he was doing.

Damascus was beginning to think she wouldn't mind if Hall was being mistreated the same way MeleeMan mistreated everyone, or maybe a little worse, at this point. She would probably be nearly as frustrated with CourseMan, though less justified in being so, if she knew that he had the mental faculty right now to focus on this rigorous physical test, while at the same time flirting with high school girls.

----------------------------------------------

Hall had given MeleeMan one demand that was pretty hard to obey; with his eyes shielded from sight through the mysterious one-way sight of his helmet, he was finding it very hard not to stare at Hall's tushie. That said, MeleeMan didn't take criticism gracefully, not even when it came from someone as much to his liking as Hall was. "Hah! I wouldn't be so quick to throw luck out of it, Hall. You're giving me another shot? Who's the overconfident one now?" he asked, although the view was so pleasant that he hardly needed to go again. Still, presented with another chance, MeleeMan was sure he would manage to get a bit more out of it. "A bit more? What the hell am I thinking... I'm MeleeMan, the greatest fighter on the net! I'm gonna get a lot more out of it," he reminded himself. He'd be better suited if he could be the greatest tactician right now, but not even his ego would put that bit of self-praise into his head.

MeleeMan accepted the hand up, though, if he'd been in his usual state of not thinking very hard about anything, he'd have probably gruffly shaken it off to save face. At present, his mind was busy thinking about the best holds, the ones that would lead not only to him getting a good feel of his opponent, but also maybe even build some admiration for his skill and strength. "I could take her to the ground and hold her hands behind her back... I'd get to look at that ass all I want and there's no way she'd break out of that... Or better, I could put her in an abdominal stretch, hook both arms and do whatever I want with my hands, while she has to press her butt up against me... that'd be nice... but huh..." he thought silently, rubbing his chin with one armored fist. But as he thought about it... his goal wasn't really to make an unbreakable hold. Actually, his last bit of fortune hadn't come as a result of his skill at all, but happenstance... Regardless of what Hall wanted, to him, that last go was quite a success. If he could replicate that and better it, then that was what he wanted.

The cheer captain's words snapped MeleeMan back into reality. He didn't really give a damn about what happened to that sissy pirate and the bratty girls, or even really to his SP, at this point, but Hall returning to them wouldn't be any good for anyone. Their lie would be exposed, his fun would be over, and Hall would blow a gasket, probably. On the other hand, if he held her here... the lie would continue, his fun would continue, and at worst, she'd get fed up with him. To him, the grass was a lot greener on the side of the fence he was already standing on. It was in everyone's best interest that this impromptu wrestling match continued another round. He'd intend to make it go that way.

And she couldn't logically go to meet them if she didn't have any clothes on. With that in mind, he smiled and nodded to his opponent and entered grappling stance, giving her a chance to get ready for him to lock in the hold. That might have seemed chivalrous, but the next maneuver was anything but: he reached out with one hand to grab to grab hold of her cheerleader's blouse by near the neck, attempting to pull her a bit closer to him. Once that was locked in, he'd bunch as much of it into his fist as he could, then reach out the other hand and grab the back of her shorts in a similar manner. The thumb would attempt to hook into the top of the bloomers while the fingers reached down for the lower hem, trying to hook in and squeeze the fabric (and the flesh). "Leverage," he muttered quickly, as if that would absolve him of all crime. Not holding back here, MeleeMan didn't say "excuse me" for what he'd done, and he certainly didn't distinguish between bloomers and panties; he'd put the fingers under both, if he had the opportunity.

Assuming she let him do that, he'd enjoy it for a moment, smirking as he nodded again to confirm she was ready to proceed. Unless she boomed "no", he'd take the opportunity to lift her into the air in a torture rack above his broad shoulders, keeping one hand bunching her shirt and the other grasping tightly onto the bloomers. "When the night janitor comes in, maybe I'll let you out of this one! I'll tell the girls you wanted to watch their tests finish up, but you were just too tied up. Unless you can escape this, that is!" he taunted. Assuming she hadn't already stopped him from putting this master stroke into action, he figured one of two things would happen next: first, the chance that she really wouldn't be able to escape this hold. His ego might actually enjoy that, as he didn't want to entertain the idea that a cheer leader might be a superior technical wrestler in a contest against MeleeMan. That would also keep her from getting to the others pretty well. The other possibility... If she did escape, he figured there was no way she'd take her shirt and her pants with her; he was holding onto those things with a sense of purpose. He was just an additional body hardening away from being in his Soul Fist: Iron Grip stance; things he grabbed in that stance didn't tend to get away from him very well. Once she was deprived of those, he'd enjoy the view and, moreover, he had to think she wouldn't run out the room leaving them with him. That would delay her just as well.

Hopefully, the ego of CourseMan's clone would not be too greatly bruised at the way Twig was failing to pay him much attention at the moment. Her mind seemed to be quite distracted at the moment: her eyes having recovered from the flash, she was watching Damascus and CourseMan go at the monkey bars with a circus of unusual talents on display. "W-woah... this is, like, totally unreal! I guess we were, uh, super-smart to get you two in on this, after all... there's no way... there's literally no way!" Seeming to finally realize she might be hurting her image with a reasonable display of concern, also, seeming reassured that CourseMan and Damascus would pull through in spite of the student council president's dirty tricks, Twig turned back to her fellow observer with a coy smile. "Mmhmm... he sure is flexible! I'd be interested to see if he's willing to go all the way like that... I wanna know if he knows any other creative positions." From the playfulness of her voice, it was a fifty-fifty call as to whether she was trying to build up some sexual tension herself or just join in on the fun of double entendres. Either way, she seemingly wasn't objecting to his familiar gesture, overtly or otherwise.

Wand, while not yet objecting to her clone's actions, could certainly be said to be bothered by them. As soon as it became possible to only pretend to focus on the scene that had temporarily blinded her and moved her to action a moment ago, she was merely pretending again. With what tactile sensation it had, CourseMan's clone would feel the subtle movements and changes in breathing that indicated her lack of concentration. By the time he'd advanced his position and taken to nibbling, she was beginning to look notably red in the face, her feigned playful grins falling from her face into surprised gasps just as fast as she could conjure them. "H-hey, CourseMan! Knock it off, dummy! Twiggy's standing, like, right there... she's gonna give us both a hard time if she sees this..." Despite her verbal protests, she still didn't make any physical movements to spurn his advancements. In fact, her body seemed to have gone quite intentionally still. It might be fair to guess she was doing so in an attempt to make her "playing it cool" and "ignoring it" more realistic. Alternatively, it might be fair to guess she was aware of the clone's physical limitations and had decided not to make any sudden movements that might break the fantasy of having CourseMan's actual touch on her. Either way, Wand was either giving her sister's powers of observation too much credit, or else her capacity for jealousy. Twig was still very much occupied with her own clone, paying no attention to Wand and hers.

While the actual CourseMan and his challenge buddy had only gotten a minimal amount of genuine attention or appreciation for their feats of skills, they were paying dividends in terms of success. The moving statue was probably a challenge for high school girls (and almost certainly too much of a challenge for the sisters), but was no big deal for NetNavis or their Support Programs experienced with actual battle. Compared to a charging enemy, the obstacle was really only an obstacle, with no killing intent capable of striking fear. As such, CourseMan and Damascus were able to use their unique motor abilities to avoid it and make progress. It didn't seem to be programmed to come around for a second pass, so as long as the two were capable of recovering from their sight-related ailments quickly and avoid any bad grabs, they would quickly find themselves on the other side of the bars. Damascus would find herself there first, by nature of their crossing order. CourseMan probably wouldn't want to cross over Damascus to break that order, considering her method of gaining a grip was to turn her hands into weapons.

When Damascus touched down on the other side of the pit by herself, she wouldn't hear the triumphant noise indicating the sub-challenge was complete. Instead, she might notice the formerly blank digital clock being held by a Hall statue light up with a cryptic display:

"0
15
3"

The spear-holding Hall sprung to life, quickly thrusting the spear over the top of the wall (where nobody was likely to be, within the first second of the challenge). The statue then drew its spear back, angling it down at the floor where Damascus was standing. CourseMan would probably have managed to touch down and see this sight himself, by this point (eliciting a ding and a glow as he did so). The monument's thrust, withdrawal, and re-positioning took about five seconds in total.

The middle number quickly began counting down, timed with the seconds: first to 14, then to 13.

If the spear-wielder thrust in a similar pattern, it seemed likely it was aiming to skewer anyone still standing there when it did so. Regardless, for now, it was simply holding its position as the second number continued to go down every second...

---

"I do so not out of hubris, esteemed coach, but out of generosity and my stated desire for continual improvement," Hall reminded MeleeMan as she helped him up, still beaming. Eagerly, she settled back into her untrained grappling pose. While she was clearly assuming they would be locking hands, as in a traditional bout, that was the trap the lout that was MeleeMan had planned from the beginning. "Aah! I've heard of this maneuver!" she exclaimed as she was pulled in by her assailant. "This is traditionally used in Judo, correct?"

MeleeMan probably wasn't going to answer and didn't care, regardless, instead locking in the second part of his hold, eliciting a narrower smile from his perpetually smiling challenger. "This really is a favorite hold of yours, isn't it? Unfortunately, you don't have the leverage you think-!"

The rules of their competition had always been foggy, at best, so perhaps Hall could be faulted for forgetting she was supposed to wait for the change to try and escape, or MeleeMan could be faulted for not properly preventing the escape when Hall had made her intent to do so evident in their first bout. Regardless, with only MeleeMan's garment-based hold restricting her, Hall wasted no time jumping from the floor and wrapping her arms around his thick neck. So positioned, she then proceeded to lock her strong legs around MeleeMan's waist in a vice.

This had probably been intended to put Hall in a holding position herself, but it hadn't worked. MeleeMan's shirt hold lost leverage at this close proximity, but nothing was preventing him from keeping his grasp on either garment. Furthermore, Hall had really only forced herself into a position that would look compromising and intimate to any onlookers, her face close below MeleeMan's and her bottom hovering close to what could be considered the "danger zone" of making inappropriate contact with her captor.

"Well, I may not have made this a turnabout, but I'm not letting you continue your conversion until you escape from my grasp!" Hall's fierce eyes stared up into MeleeMan's visor. More interestingly, the combination of MeleeMan's dislodging the shell of her uniform and her holding her arms raised had forced the garment to shrug up, allowing her bodysuit-clad chest to slide out, just barely pressing against MeleeMan's own front in her current position. "I'd bet you'd love to find a way to shake me... unfortunately, I'm not letting you go until you've worn me out and forced me to release!"