synflux | closed.

Ready.

[ idly cracking her knuckles.

We are doing a montage/timeskip because I'm not strong enough to write fight scenes in the month where we're also doing a kaiju fight-- ]

[ help

He doesn't bother replying back, his question enough of a confirmation of his own status. There's no hesitation on his part as he launches forward, the bulk of his attack centered on what he knows best - his fists. Gebura, embracing every ounce of her well-deserved confidence, parries back, matching him beat for beat, the strength behind her own strikes catching him off-guard.

But instead of feeling panicked, there's a certain exhilaration that floods his veins the longer they spar, and even though he's clearly unmatched, his lips are quirked upwards for a good while despite how often a kick catches him in the side hard enough to bruise or a punch sends him skidding backwards.

I'll let you decide how much more of a montage this needs in your tag….but regardless he ends up on the ground soundly beaten. ]

[ Fights for a purpose other than To Survive are few and far between and Gebura appreciates them when they happen. She's not being forced to analyze Wriothesley's style as she goes, to try and pick it apart so that she can destroy him to the point where he'll never again rise from the ground. She can observe, as usual, which of course she does.

His fighting style is simultaneously controlled and savage; there's a lot of force behind his fists, enough to leave searing patches on her face when a blow lands, to make her ribs ache when he does score a kick.

But she pushes through, releasing a long, slow exhale as she straightens--and then reaches down to offer Wriothesley a hand up. ]

Not bad. You've got a better guard than I expected.

[ He'd take more pride in the compliment if he weren't ass up on the ground, completely wiped. Even the simple movement of pushing himself up to take hold of the hand offered to him has him wincing. ]

Still not good enough to last long enough against you. But thanks.

[ A good handful of seconds later and he's finally upright on his feet, if a little wobbly. ]

Next time we have to fight a kaiju, I'm sticking behind you.

You think you can't take on a kaiju now? You know I'll have to protect the people who actually need it, right?

[ She sounds amused, though. ]

Depends on the size. The smaller ones [ he gives a wobble of his hands ] sure, but the big ones?

[ There's a decisive shake of his head. ]

I know my limits. Though even what I can do now won't always be good enough. Fists alone can't punch through everything.

Have you ever thought about taking up a weapon? For the times that the fists don't do it.

[ That was one thing she'd learned, becoming a Fixer. What was important was arming yourself, but what was also important was giving yourself multiple options when it came to a weapon. ]

[ Another wobble, leading into a slow stretch of one arm. (Yikes, he's definitely going to be beyond sore tomorrow, or even as soon as later today.) ]

More and more recently. A friend offered to make me something but I'm not sure where to start.

[ Get used to using one thing over and over again for ten years and everything else starts to feel alien. ]

Fair enough. I've had enough experience with a few different weapons, so depending on what you choose, I might be able to help train you.

... Informally. [ As ever, she didn't really do rigid, formal instruction. ]

[ He lets out a small breath of laughter, and then winces as the movement jiggles his bruised sides. ]

Informally like how this was informal?

[ Did he technically learn something? Yes, but could have been more efficient done in almost any other fashion? Also yes. But he did ask for this, so it's not like he can complain. ]

What weapons do you know, other than the sword? [ Her big honking sword... ]

Axes, my fists, spears, knives... anything either heavy enough or sharp enough that'd keep me alive at the time... [ She shrugs. ]

Killed a guy with a television once.

Training's different than sparring, though. I have to hold back at least a little there.

[ ........the fuck. Hold on. ]

By throwing it at him or beating him with it?

Both happened, but the beating killed him.

Good to know.

[ Is it? Did it really require this particular tangent? (Yes.) But back to the main topic at hand. ]

You're not wrong though. In moments of duress, just about anything can become a useful weapon. Still, I'd like to be a little more prepared than that when the next mission rolls around.

Which means you should probably look into deciding on a weapon now.

[ Just saying. ]

Not one to mince words are you, Miss Gebura? [ But he knew that already. ] I'll give it some thought and give you a call when I decide.

[ Sorry, but she's stuck with him for now. ]

Got it. I'll see if I can lend a hand, if you're willing to go through hell again.

[ It's fine. She doesn't mind him. ]

[ There's a tiny smile at that, wry and a little personal. ]

I've gotten pretty friendly with all different kinds of hells so...I think I'll manage somehow.

[ But anyway! Another stretch, another groan. He could really use a hot shower right about now but: ]

How about lunch after I clean off? As thanks [ for beating him up ].

[ Well, if he insists? She hasn't missed that smile, but she doesn't ask for further details. ]

I'm surprised. I thought you'd be begging off for a nap after that or something.

[ Sorry for the thrashing. Maybe. Maybe not sorry. ]

[ The smile turns a little more real as he pats his stomach (and lets out a groan of pain). ]

That's what the food is for. [ His impending carb coma... ] So is that a yes or a no?

Sure. I'm not about to turn down a free meal.

[ That isn't going to be drugged or be fellow parts of human or any other concerning thing, at the very least.

... Poor Wriothesley, though. ]

Did you have a place in mind?

Your choice. [ ....With one caveat. ] As long as it serves more than just spicy food.

[ Please don't beat up his taste buds after she already beat up the rest of him. ]

Edited 2024-08-06 21:27 (UTC)

... Not too good with spice, huh. You'd have a rough time in the City.

[ But she nods; she's got his back. ]

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