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Rolling to see who will go first

1 Valhalla
2 Sailor Ganymede

Feel free to rp as usual randomizing betweeen 1 and 3 for each post, or to pre roll the results and go back and fill the posts in after the fact.

Rolling reference for ease
* For every post in a battle thread make sure you randomize between 1 and 3. The number you get will determine what happened during that turn.
1 - Uh oh, looks like you missed this time!
2 - Yay a hit! Your opponent should subtract 1 hp in their next post.
3 - Excellent hit! Your opponent should subtract 2 hp in their next post.

* Keep track of your HP on the top of each post you make please! When someone reaches zero the battle is over. (You can post once or twice more if you'd really like the two to wish each other well or what not)
If the dice decide to be jerks and the battle just keeps going on and on and on I may step in and ask for you guys to roll dice for some outside event to help out. Hopefully it won't be necessary

Ganymede stood in front of Valhalla with a bit of a smug grin on his face. He was doing well so far and he was obviously enjoying the success, but after some of the failures he’d had in the past under different and far more dramatic circumstances, he thought he deserved to feel proud of himself for a time, even if this was only meant to be a game.

To see that his next opponent was Valhalla was the icing on top of the cake. He didn’t expect it would be easy to beat him—he wasn’t that dumb; Val had ten inches on him and a hell of a lot more weight, most of it in the form of muscle. Beside the page, he probably looked a bit runty. He relied on the heels of his boots to add a little more impressiveness to his otherwise minuscule height, but standing next to someone who was easily over six feet and could probably lift him with one arm made the extra boost seem like nothing. If he beat Valhalla, it would only be because his smaller frame made him quicker.

And he was infinitely more graceful. Brute strength did tend to have its drawbacks.

“Val!” he greeted him, not even bothering to disguise how excited he was. He moved closer with a noticeable spring in his steps, his newly provided ornaments attached to the very same places he’d had them last battle—by his right hip and on his left boot. "My fight was great. Better than yours, I'm sure. I'm surprised you could bring yourself to fight a little kid, and then I heard you punched Babs before that. That wasn't very nice. Amusing, sure, but not my usual sweet Val."

Coming to a stop directly in front of the page, he leaned in to smile up at him innocently enough. If he batted his lashes at all, it was only because he knew it would make Valhalla uncomfortable.

Normally he tried not to make him feel uncomfortable. After all the secrets he’d kept before, he thought it wouldn’t be very fair of him to make the guy squirm, but if they were going to face one another in this tournament, he was going to pull out all the stops.

“Why don’t we put a little wager on this thing?” he suggested, reaching a hand out to play with part of Val’s tunic. “Make things a little more exciting. Whoever wins gets whatever they want. If I win, I think I’d like…”

He trailed off, pausing for a moment, though he knew already exactly what it was he wanted to say. The point was to keep Val hanging, and when he thought he had him sufficiently worried, he finally completed his sentence.

“… a kiss.”

HP: 6-2=4
Damage Done: 2

He couldn’t help it. He laughed. He was so amused by what Val came up with that he didn’t even bother trying to get out of the way when his teammate and ex kicked him. He heard the ornament on his boot crack, but it didn’t break. Not yet, at least.

He took a single step back in response, though he continued to grin up at him all the while. “Is that really the best you can come up with?” he wondered. “Like I didn’t clean your apartment for you when we were going out.”

Cleaning was not a chore he was unused to. Cooking, laundry, vacuuming, dusting—he did it all at home. Trekking out to Chris’s apartment to do it for him, too, would hardly be inconvenient. In fact, it would probably prove to be quite enjoyable, if only because it meant he would be able to see him more.

“Unless you really just want to see me that badly that you have to force me to come over to clean for you,” he teased, knowing all the while that it wasn’t true. “I didn’t realize you missed me so much.”

Ganymede rather liked the flush in Val’s face. It meant he was successfully discomforting him. If only he could have heard his thoughts somehow, it would have made the whole experience that much more amusing.

“You could ask for something else, you know?” he said, arching a brow at him suggestively. “Maybe something to take the edge off? You always seem so stressed out. I could help you with that.”

He reached for the ornament by Val’s hip, though only after moving his hand a little too close to something else. “Oops. My bad. Habit,” was his all he managed in apology, lifting his other hand in a rather poor attempt to conceal another broad grin.

HP: 6-2-2=2
Damage Done: 2 previous roll, 2 this roll.

“It’s not my fault you get embarrassed so easily,” Ganymede said, feigning a roll of his eyes. “You’re such a prude. You didn’t care so much when we were going out. I know, I know, back then you thought I was a girl. Don’t start harping at me. I’ll quit it, okay?”

He wasn’t that mean. Okay, so maybe he was sometimes, but the close brush obviously wasn’t sitting well with Val, much less so than the leaning close and pretending to be sweet and innocent when he was anything but.

Ganymede tried to dodge out of the way of Val’s hand but failed and heard another crack. This time when he looked down, he saw that his ornament was definitely broken, but it had shattered against Val’s bare hand, and that couldn’t have felt all that great.

“Careful,” he said, trying to grab the page’s hand to make sure it was okay. “You dumby. I’m just teasing you. You don’t have to get so huffy. I don’t know why you let your temper get the better of you over something like this. It’s just a game.”

Then again, he knew how competitive Chris was. He didn’t expect it to be any different when he was Val. Ganymede began to wonder what was annoying Val more—the fact that he was teasing him or the fact that he didn’t seem to be taking this seriously.

“You gonna punch me in the face, too?” he asked, not sure if he was serious in voicing the question or not. The part of him that missed how things used to be between them wanted to think that Val would never hit him purposefully; the other part of him knew how Chris got when he was angry and looked at Val’s hands with a little more caution.

He stepped to the side and moved in to make another quick swipe at the ornament on Val’s hip, steering clear of any sensitive territory this time around.

HP: 6-2-2-0=2
Damage Done: 2, 2 previous rolls, 1 this roll.

Ganymede didn’t know if he believed Val when he denied it. He looked so angry and annoyed and frustrated that he really wouldn’t be surprised if things got more physical, and he wasn’t sure if that bothered him or not. He was a big boy; he could take care of himself. He’d been in fights before. Plenty of them, with youma, with Negaversers, with punk kids in his neighborhood or guys that just wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. With the Negas he felt afraid, with the youma he did only when they were too big and too much for him to handle on his own, but with everything and everyone else he didn’t really think much of it. It kind of just happened.

He might be a little upset if it happened with Val. Chris had always treated him better than anyone else had. If that ended up changing at some point for whatever reason, he’d be extremely disappointed—not just in Chris, but in himself for taking things that far and earning that sort of reaction.

He dodged again when Val went for his leg and managed to avoid the hit, though now he wasn’t sure how he wanted this to end. Did he really want to win? Maybe. It would be fun, and he'd loved the chance to gloat. But he wanted Val to win, too. He’d been teasing him so far, but he didn’t want to see Val lose, not just because he was the biggest sore loser he’d ever met, but because he cared and rooted for him. Ganymede had just been messing around so far. It would seem sort of unfair if he won over someone who genuinely wanted it.

Glancing toward the ornament on the back of Valhalla’s vambrace, Ganymede considered the dangers of going for it. All it would take was one good whack from the page—on purpose, in defense—and he’d be knocked out cold.

Instead of aiming a hit at it, he reached out and tried to rip it off. He didn't cheer in success when he had it in his and, though he might have smirked a tiny bit. "Looks like I win," he said, and dropped the ornament to shatter on the ground.

Pleased as he was to be continuing on to the next round, Ganymede still felt bad, especially since he could tell that Val really wanted to stomp around and throw a fit. For a second he’d considered throwing the fight and letting Val win, maybe miss on purpose a few times and dodge around enough to make it look like he was still trying, but he didn’t think Valhalla was dumb enough to believe him.

He’d gotten this far, after all. He didn’t completely suck.

Only a little.

He frowned lightly and reached out for Val’s injured hand again. “Let me see,” he said, taking it carefully between his own hands and gently picking out a sliver or two of glass. “Be more careful next time. If there is a next time. You need your hands if you want to play ball.”

He’d really hate if Chris were suddenly unable to do what he loved because of him. That would be like not being able to dance because Val broke his leg. It would be unbearably shitty, and they’d probably both be miserable because of it.

Ganymede tried to smirk again as he looked up at his ex, but he couldn’t force the teasing any longer and smiled at him softly instead. “I get my kiss then,” he pointed out. “I promise I won’t make it horrible. I’ll do it fast. And nothing too involved, okay? I’ll keep it tame. No tongue, I swear.”

He felt a little uneasy about it now that he actually got to do it. He hadn’t thought to grab a final kiss before telling Chris the truth, and he’d been regretting it this whole time. There had been points since then where he’d thought to snag one, keep it short and innocent and hope Chris wouldn’t mind, but his guilty conscience kept him from doing it. He’d pecked his cheek a couple of times, grazed his lips along the side of his neck when Valhalla hadn’t known he was Paris, but he tried not to take it any further than innocent touches, not only because he didn’t want to make his friend and patrol partner too uncomfortable to be around him, but because he didn’t like the idea of teasing himself with something he couldn’t have on a regular basis.

He let go of Val’s hand to place both of his along the page's shoulders, lightly rubbing them to try and get him to calm down. He gave Val a few moments to compose himself, staring up at him until he was sure he wasn’t about to jerk back and run away in fear or embarrassment. Then he pushed himself onto his toes and pressed a kiss to Val’s mouth, quick but firm—fast enough for Val to get it over with, but enough for him to make it worth it.

Once he was done, he settled back onto his feet and smiled again, going back to rubbing at Val’s shoulders. “I’ll try to win for you,” he said. “No more messing around.”

Ganymede’s smile widened at Val’s response. That hadn’t been too bad. He couldn’t say that Val particularly liked it—not like he used to—but at least he wasn’t causing a scene or acting disgusted or making an especially big deal about it, just mumbling in that cute way of his, like he was trying to play it off and doing a very poor job of it. Sometimes Val could be such a grumpy brat. It was adorable.

He kept rubbing at his shoulders for a few more moments since it seemed as if Val was calming down. He couldn’t say for sure if it was being helped along by anything he was doing, but Ganymede liked to think he knew how to manage Val’s foul moods and bad temper.

“I’ll try not to,” he promised. He wasn’t sure if that was a promise he’d be able to keep, of course—but then when had any promise been a sure one?—seeing as he’d won mostly on luck so far. He’d probably have to step up his game next time and give a little more effort than the joking and the teasing.

Now that they were done and their deal had been fulfilled, Ganymede knew they should move on, maybe watch the other matches to see who else would be heading into the next round, but he couldn’t make himself let go just yet. He slipped his hands from Val’s shoulders to throw his arms around his neck, leaning against him and hugging tight. He didn’t say anything while he did so, not really sure what he wanted to tell him. Apologizing seemed pretty pointless, and making even more promises could end up backfiring on him as soon as he faced his next opponent.

So he just held onto him and let himself feel warm and comfortable and safe for a few moments, and then released Val to step away. “If I don’t hear you cheering for me, I’ll be very disappointed,” he warned him, though he remained smiling all the while, and ended up letting out a bit of an ironic laugh. “It freaking figures I’d be the last Jovian left in this thing. I’d have expected you or one of the others. I guess it’s all on me now. Mighty Ganymede, upholding the Jovian honor,” he joked.

“They have big egos,” Ganymede replied, laughing again.

He wanted to squirm around and gush a bit when Val’s hand went to his head—he always liked it when Val touched him on his own, even if it wasn’t anything big, because he could always tell he cared when he did—but he kept himself still. He figured he might as well try to adopt some shred of dignity if he intended to move on in the tournament and be taken seriously by whoever else he had to face.

That didn’t mean he didn’t bat his lashes again and show Val another innocent smile, the ‘I’m so cute face’ he’d taken to showing him recently. Chris wasn’t telling him he looked beautiful every day now like he used to, but he knew Chris still thought he was cute, at the very least. He knew it. Even if it was in more of a kid brother sort of way now, it was better than having Chris find him repulsive for whatever reason and not want to be around him at all.

“You should leave Babs alone,” he told him as he took a couple of steps back. “You get along so well with girls, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you really get along with another guy. Except me, but I guess we bicker a lot more now than we did when you thought I was a girl. And then you seemed okay with that one wimpy looking page up at the Surrounding. I don’t know what it is with you. You can’t possibly feel threatened. I mean, look at you. You’re huge.”

Part of him wondered if it was a superiority thing, some male tendency to prove himself around other males who, in turn, tried their damnedest to prove themselves around him. Ganymede didn’t really get it if it was, but then he figured he probably wasn’t the best representative of the male sex anyway.

“Alright,” he said, preventing himself from rambling further and trying to put on a serious face. “Time to focus.”

Before, he wouldn’t have been concerned about the next battle. It had all been fun and games, and even the knowledge that he was the last of the Jovians still in it probably wouldn’t have been enough for him to start taking it seriously. Things were a little different now. He wouldn’t be completely heartbroken if he lost, but he would be disappointed in himself. He wasn’t going to be finishing last—and he supposed that was an accomplishment in and of itself—but after this, he’d like nothing more than to finish first.

He wanted to win for Val.

Maybe he’d even get another kiss out of it if he did.

It was probably a long shot but, hey, a guy could hope.