Well... Since no one else is posting in here, I will be the first..

The Russian teen just stood there with his hands still in his pockets; still and utterly impassive. Yet the corners of his lips twitched upward a bit in mild exitement at the rising action; fights always amused him.

Ivan didn't seem to notice the Latvian behind him, for he was keeping his unblinking gaze locked on the Swed and the female. In mind's eye, he silently calculated battle strategies for the both of them, locating the easiest way each could defeat the other from their current positions. Strategies came natural to him, and he enjoyed planning them out just as much as he did carrying them out. This dark-haired boy might not look it, but he too, was a killer. But unlike the challenging female, he did so because he was forced to... yet at times, he was willing...

The boy leaned back on his heels a bit and just watched the other two; he was silently seeing their strengths and weaknesses so he could be more than ready for his turn.

He whinced inside at the sudden impact of the strength of his rivial. She was a bit more a challange then he had assumed she would be, but it didn't matter to him. He could match it.. but he knew this was just the start. And finishing was just around the corner.

"Show you what I can do? Now that's just plain silly.." he grinned and then gripped his sword slipped tightly, reasuring himself that it would not slip his grip in his next movement.

He cast sideways with a safe distant's away from the girl's blade, but he kept taking quick steps for a moment. He didn't go from her blade though.. He was to far from actually bodie to bodie close, but he wasn't to far from the other's blade, but the hilt was just closest to him. He missed her hands and hit the bottem of the hilt with the tang of the sword, he suddenly changed his impact so it was lighter with a huge edge as he pulled back, leaving a little looseness in her grip. Before he could give her time to recover, he turned the blade to the sharp edge -each movement quite similar to her's only his footing was strange.. not misplaced.. but rather a trick he could play at the last second- and dead on smacked it at a side attack after taking a single step forward. The difference was that he didn't make sparks, it was just to sudden. He pressed froward until the swords guard threatened to touch her blade, he switched to the sword's flatter side. A soft click sounded as he added a huge impact of weight. He slowly slid blade tip so that he could slide off and collide with her change of speed or colliding of sword IF he needed to. Now his blade was angled almost sidewises, but to his advantage. He could change and fight her with complete offense attacks... But for right now.. he wanted to see her strength.. to test just how much pressure she could take.

The reason for hitting the hilt was something he would keep quite from, but he wasn't going to let her get a good grip in the middle of an arm wrestle... a twisted look of an arm wresle anyway, "Death your companion? Death doesn't make friends.. Nether be tamed.."

"I wouldn't close my eyes if i was you.." he hissed threw his teeth. Though defeated, the past part of him was outraged and wasn't done yet until he was out of the grip of anything that threatened him. Sweden HATED with a burning passion to be looked down upon. It was his largest weakness after Denmark had tried to completely take him over.. He never did want to go through any manner of that again, no matter what the large or small cost was. Being dead, to him, was better then being under the rule another.

He took less then a blink of an eye to jab the blade's tip into teh ground just enough so that he could add a soft push off as he picked up his knees. Taking full advantage of the height deferance, he twisted his upper body, earning a large scartch across his chest and large pain in his lower stomach. He didn't care about the pain at the moment. Just running completely off this impeccable rage that just flowed threw his veins was enough to cover it for now. Rearing his elbow backwards at a quick motion and great strength, he made it to a slight angle and dug dead on into your lower leg mucle. He pressed with all his streghth and brought you down on the floor with him as he watched her,already off balancement with one foot on his chest and one of the ground, fall and land next to him.

"Never pause! Even if you aren't supposed to kill.. name the battle over with whom's victory after you press one's victory to one's chest!" each word wasn't mean, but rather harsh in tone. His blue gaze was completely different then who he was. Glinting with such...enmity towards the whole objection, placements, and outcomes.

He rolled over, pushing off on the sword, and slide a foot away. Not yet standing though he should be..A hand touched teh wound on his chest and whinced in pain.

What a shame.. Oh well.. I did what I needed to do..

He turned and shot you a glare, he clutched his sword and kicked back up to his feet. Being kind enough to give you time to stand.. Unwise chose, but he was a gentlemen in the battle when the other brought soft intrest into things.

- Note* Avoiding god moding towards the end, just saying-

"My turn?"

The dark-haired boy was still sitting quietly on the ground, watching the other two fight. He was a bit confused at how short the battle lasted.

The Russian teen didn't seem surprised that a female beat a larger male; it was somewhat common to see woman fighting furiously in battle.

Now he had his odd glimmering irises fixed upon the Transylvanian. An innocent smile was fixed upon his face, seeming much like the smile a child would wear when he was about to participate in some interesting game.

"Et's dishonorable to back down from a challenge where ai'm from."
The boy stood up with a light smile and took a few steps toward the female. He was also much taller than the girl, maybe even a little bit taller than the Swede, but he appeared docile...

"Ef ai win, ai you to be your friend. Ef you win, you get to me my friend. A fair deal, da?"

His tone was light and almost cheery, but his arms hung loosely at his sides; he had not yet drawn any weapons. A few short moments went by as the Russian scanned his oppenent with an impassive smile. He was studying her... and by what he saw when she fought, he thought he pinpointed one of her strengths... and a weaknesses. The boy shifted his eyes until they met the girl's crimson orbs.

"De winner of de last round goes first."

The Russian boy's smile remained unfaltering at the girl's concern. Well... at least she was honerable in combat.

Two hidden blades slipped out from underneath the boy's sleeves. They wern't long enough to be swords, but they wern't short enough to be daggers. Odd... The hilts couldn't be seen from their position, but the blades themselves were slightly curved, and built especially for slicing through armor and other weapons. Tiny nicks and scrapes here and there that reflected the light in an odd way indicated that they had so far served their perpose well....

But nevertheless, his hands closed around the hilts of the ancient-looking blades before they could fall to the ground. It took the teen a little while to learn how to catch the blades properly as they edjected into view, without slitting his arms or wrists, that is...

"No need to worry about me."

Ivan's head tilted ever so slightly, anticipating the first attack...