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 Posted: Wed Jan 28, 2015 6:18 pm
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It was like being on a roller coaster, all highs and lows, and no way to get off. In the evenings, curled around the comforting frame of her younger sister, the anger withdrew like a tied, and in it's wake was nothing but that dull, grinding pain. It tightened like a fist around her chest, tied her stomach in knots, and formed in choking lumps in her throat. She didn't know what to do with it, how to get over it, so she'd started taking the pills America had given her over a week ago.
In the mornings she was numb, and it was peaceful. A little slice of relief from her own mind and feelings. Woefully short lived.
By the time she was dressed and out for the day the anger was back, seeping in like a poison, and more often then not she found her way to the training field. The crack of wood beneath her knuckles brought a measure of satisfaction that little else managed lately, so there she spent hours, pounding out her aggression on the lifeless bodies of the training dummies, loud music blaring through the headphones tucked into her ears.
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Posted: Thu Jan 29, 2015 12:53 pm
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Horace stepped out to the field, using one hand to shield his eyes from the sun. Sparring was something he found he liked even when he wasn't good at it. And maybe he liked more when he wasn't good at it. There was something beautiful in the way people moved as they fought, the muscles bunching with sharp intent - even trainees and their gentle hesitance were interesting to watch. The way long sweeping arm movements were telegraphed down from shoulders and out with sharp wrist movements... and the way pain bloomed across shields, dampened, duller, but still there was beautiful, too. And a spar was a pain Horace chose, not something forced on him.
So he whistled when he stepped onto the field and looked around, only to see a familiar little sun. Peyton beat the dummies like they owed her money and rent was due. He wandered over, hands in his pockets and waited. When she finally stopped for a moment, he darted in and pulled the earbuds right out of her ears.
"Pey, ease up on poor dummy Wilson, he's not done anything to you." He grinned and pointed at the dummy that he'd abruptly decided was Wilson. The others were, of course, Higgs-Boson, Charlie, and Sassafras.
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Posted: Thu Jan 29, 2015 2:49 pm
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The girl turned with a snarl as her earbuds were forcibly yanked from her eyes, and Warrick appeared in her hand with a red flash, the blade up coming up quick, only to stop an inch from the trainee's neck as she got a good look at his face. "Horace. What the ********?" Pissy, certainly, but there was something else there, shakiness maybe, at having almost attacked him wihout proper provocation.
"Don't you know this island is filled with crazy people? You shouldn't sneak up on them like that, it's a good way to get hurt." She gave the cord to her earbuds a little yank, trying to free them from his hand.
It wasn't quite an apology, but then again, she hadn't actually struck him either. Instead she stared up at him, bristly and unhappy, before her chest rose and fell in a long, calming sigh that smoothed features and put her somewhere closer to tired than hostile. It wasn't Horace's fault, and it wasn't fair to take it out on him. He hadn't done anything wrong, not really. Any normal day, and she wouldn't have reacted to being startled quite so violently.
Frowning thoughtfully, her weight shifted to rest on one foot, hip popping. "Can I help you with something?" Because clearly he wouldn't have come to bother her for no reason, right?
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Posted: Fri Jan 30, 2015 2:02 pm
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"It's the hair, halfpint - looks like candy. Sugar sweet." He tugged on a lock of it, but gently, letting after only a second. Horace hadn't seen her around lately - they hadn't even run together. And maybe he'd kind of missed the small sun.
His own grin faded when hers did, brows drawing together as he looked at her, really looked at her. He sighed. "s**t, I didn't know he was stupid." Horace's hand came up to squeeze her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Pey. He's gotta be ******** blind. D'you wanna talk about it or if you want to just beat it out on something that's not a dummy, you can use me." It was said lightly - Horace didn't really know how to comfort people, but if he could do something for her, he would.
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Posted: Fri Jan 30, 2015 4:25 pm
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"Oh." Cotton candy, got it.
Peyton had stopped picking at the dummy, chin touching her shoulder as she glanced back at Horace as he gave her hair a soft tug. It was such a casual gesture, mindless and utterly void of any awkwardness. Comforting in a way.
At least until the word 'stupid' triggered an instantaneous surge of rage. It made her tense under the reassuring touch on her shoulder, lips peeling back from her teeth in a brief snarl of frustration. It was short lived, thankfully, and after a second that tension was leaking away again, features smoothing into something ragged and empty. America had said something similar, that Noah was blind, that Peyton was beautiful. She blinked up at the trainee, wanted to believe him, but just didn't feel all that special at the moment.
Not if someone that was supposed to love her could just walk away. Thought he'd loved her.
Curls spilled over her shoulder's across his hand, as she shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it." She already had. Talking about it just made her angry, or sad, or any combination of the both.
A spar though...that held a certain appeal. Especially against someone that didn't hold back, that didn't expect or even want her to hold back. Lips pursed, she tilted her head gently to one side. "You want to be my emotional punching bag?"
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Posted: Fri Jan 30, 2015 9:27 pm
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Her shoulder tensed under his hand, but he waited, completely still, like she was some wild animal that could bolt any second. Horace waited, watched her face snarl, twist, than change into something that wasn't quite defeat - but close. Too close for Horace to be comfortable with it. Abruptly, he wished he'd beaten Noah more. She didn't want to talk about it and that was fine; not everyone needed words or to turn their emotions over in their hands enough times that the ragged edges smoothed away, leaving their hands torn and bleeding. Pain was a process.
At her question, Horace flicked a curl off her shoulder, finally removing the weight of his hand. "Punching bag? For you - anytime, Peyton." With the barest flicker, Jannisari appeared on his hands, violet runes gleaming softly. She wouldn't have to hold back with him, ever, and he knew despite her size, he wouldn't have to hold back either. Maybe she could sweat out some of her anger.
"Ladies first." He dropped into an easy stance, knees bent.
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Beejoux rolled 2 12-sided dice:
7, 1
Total: 8 (2-24)
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Posted: Sun Feb 01, 2015 10:14 am
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It was a crying shame Horace got so much grief. He was a nice guy. Maybe not the smartest, but didn't they all do and say dumb things? She hoped he got away from Jan, and he hoped he managed to do so as painlessly as possible, but she wasn't naive enough to believe that would be the case. She could have tried to warn him, tried to convince him that America wasn't the person he assumed her to be, but it wouldn't have done any good, not at this point.
So she stayed neutral, especially now. She had enough to worry about without adding Horace's personal life to the mix.
The curl he flicked fell back to lay with the rest, and his hand left her shoulder. A flash of purple, and the Death was armed. So willing to throw down, she couldn't help but appreciate him, as she did Finn, and, distantly, even Jack. No thought, no restraint, just utter abandon.
Warrick appeared in a flash of red, and she snapped forward before that glow had a chance to fade, taking a swipe at the trainee's cheek.
HP: 60
DMG: 2
CHG: 1/3
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The Semblance of Unity rolled 2 8-sided dice:
6, 3
Total: 9 (2-16)
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Posted: Sun Feb 01, 2015 12:01 pm
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So quick. It was a thought had between heartbeats, when the breath shuddered carelessly out between his lips, Warrick's glow bright enough to distract. Peyton always surprised him with how fast she moved, how precisely. This was part of the reason why he felt alright giving her everything in a fight. She was so, so much better than him that it was a guaranteed kind of failure. Peyton could take whatever his unskilled hands dished out and more.
"The face? But what will I do without my dashing good looks?" He frowned comically, but even as his face changed, he was moving back towards her. The spikes on his hands trailed almost lazily down her arm, scratching at her shield. The smile that crawled across his face was just as lazy. He couldn't wait to see the kind of Peyton that existed within fights and spars, that savage joy. And, he hoped, it would help her too.
HP: 38/40
DMG: 3
CHG: 1/3
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Beejoux rolled 2 12-sided dice:
5, 11
Total: 16 (2-24)
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Posted: Sun Feb 01, 2015 3:23 pm
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"Haven't you heard? Scars are sexy." A smirk lay across pink lips as she jerked her arm away from the spikes at the sides of his knuckles. Not a hard attack, nor painful, but enough to chip away at her shield.
Since he'd come to her, she took advantage of their proximity to duck under his arm. A heavy handed jab connected with his side, but she'd twist her wrist, angle her small frame in a way that tore that curve of her blade across his stomach and hip as she moved past him to pivot on her toe, facing him again, ready and waiting.
He was the only trainee she fought at full power. The only one she wasn't afraid of hurting, or frightening. Maybe he wasn't a challenge that lasted, but he was a refreshing change of pace, and she appreciated him.
HP: 57
DMG: 10
CHG: 2/3
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The Semblance of Unity rolled 2 8-sided dice:
1, 2
Total: 3 (2-16)
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Posted: Sun Feb 01, 2015 6:12 pm
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"Some guys just can't pull them o-" And then she was there, jabbing into his side, sweeping her blade up over his abdomen. It wasn't a hiss of pain, necessarily, but a sharp intake of breath, a tightening of muscles, a shock and anticipation. Horace fought spars often and he did alright, but he'd almost forgotten what it was like to fight someone on the level Peyton was. It was exhilarating. There were some defeats that were bitter and some he didn't care about - but these spars were different. They would both push themselves, hurt each other, and enjoy the hurting. It was pure physicality. He reached out to grab her but she slipped through his fingers, faster, faster.
"Sorry," he said, breathless. "Looks like I'm out of practice. Clearly we need to fight more." And that shell-shocked look had slid off of his face to be replaced by a grin.
HP: 28/40
DMG: nope
CHG: 1/3
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Beejoux rolled 2 12-sided dice:
1, 2
Total: 3 (2-24)
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The Semblance of Unity rolled 2 8-sided dice:
6, 3
Total: 9 (2-16)
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Beejoux rolled 2 12-sided dice:
7, 9
Total: 16 (2-24)
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Posted: Thu Feb 05, 2015 3:51 pm
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The jab to her shoulder might have had a little to do with the incredulous look she was giving him at the mention of fighting her outside the safety of the dampening field. She wasn't strictly opposed, of course, in fact it was her preferred preference, but her usual opponents had been around long enough to have formed a more solid bond with their weapons, and weren't all that easy to kill. "If that's something you want." her tone was careful as she answered, hesitant, as if she wasn't entirely certain it was a good idea, but was agreeing anyways.
He was right, she wouldn't go into that sort of a brawl aiming to kill him, but there was the very real chance he could get hurt, and seriously.
But who was she, of all people, to dissuade him from seeking out something he craved?
Her head tilted thoughtfully as she watched him watching her, but she was moving again seconds later, rushing forward and duck under the sweep of his arm to slam her elbow into his stomach, then a fist into the underside of his chin when he doubled over from the first blow.
"I could teach you," she offered as he reeled. "Your weapon is almost identical to mine before he evolved." She could give him more then just the sweet sting of pain and the rush of a good fight. She could give him knowledge, skills, training.
HP: 54
DMG: 10
CHG: 2/3
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