knightsoflegend | open ♔ valentine's day

[ With a matching romantic will save of 17, Skye manages to not take Ward's head off. Narrowly. She does, however, press her tongue to the inside of her cheek and bite down until it hurts, which isn't long enough to stop her from answering with something snappish. ]

And getting ready for a rousing game of Battleship against yourself.

[He lifts the book and glances to the box that's at the bottom of the books as if to be all "Oh... that old thing?"]

You're the first one to even mention it. [Busted.] Ice cream isn't exactly a quick snack, I figured if someone was inclined to hang around, they might be interested in a game that apparently involves some knowledge of tactics and strategy. Or so I'm told.

[ This is it. This is the story of how Grant Ward dies.

There's absolutely no masking the loathing in her gaze, an explosion waiting to happen, just simmering behind her eyes and thinly veiled by the sneering curl of her lips. Her left hand curls into a fist, the right still resting on the counter. But she reels it in. She tries to force the murderous tension out of her shoulders, but all she does is lower them and lift her chin. ]

So you're chumming the water. Wow. [ She tightens her grimace into a sarcastic smile and shakes her head, drawing and releasing a deep breath to try and temper her reaction. ] Classy.

[There is a quick thought that he wants to make, because he's fairly certain that she means to refer to him as the shark -- not the ones hunting for sharks, but he doesn't actually want to call her out on that. Maybe she does think he's the one with the boat, dumping fish guts into the water hoping to lure a shark to the surface. Either way, he sets the spoon across the top of the ice cream pint and leans back a little in his chair.]

Are you really this frustrated, or angry, that you can't just actually accept that I'm trying to just read a book and offer anyone that happens to come to the kitchen some ice cream? It's Valentine's Day. I'm not handing out roses or small red hearts filled with waxy chocolate.

I don't want to repeat myself for a third time, but all I'm doing is hoping for some casual company. [He folds his arms across his chest, watching her.] You're welcome to stay if you want to spare any random passerbyers from conversation and frozen desserts.

[ Whomp, there it is. Blackmail is a strong word for it, but that's the one Skye chooses to settle on in the privacy of her own mind anyway. Either she sits down, or she inflicts Grant Ward on some unsuspecting Knight or squire. It's an easy picture, and plays right into her accusation—innocently planting a lure, allowing women to swarm. Maybe he'd even hoped she'd come through—god knows she's about as likely to take a bite out of him as a great white. There's a smugness in the cross of his arms that tells her it's no coincidence, either. ]

You are unconscionably pathetic. [ She shakes her head, and for a moment, it's something akin to pity that tinges her thoroughly disgusted expression. But something keeps her rooted to the spot rather than walking out on him. ] I'm not sitting around playing board games with you, Ward.

[He sighs when she relents. It's not exactly what he wanted, mostly because he can easily see all the hostility that's rolling off of her (sense motive 32) and he knows she's doing this because she feels like she has no other choice. It sits with him a little uncomfortably, but not so much so that he calls it off.

Maybe he is pathetic, but at the very least he's capable of getting what he wants - despite the methods.]

I didn't ask you to. [His arms unfold and he reaches for the pint of his own ice cream, the spoon digging into it once more as he takes another bite. His expression pushing forth that haze of smug satisfaction.]

[ No. He'd never ask. He'd just manipulate and coerce. It's a fine line of control that stops her from sweeping both cartons of ice cream off the counter and flinging them across the floor in a fit of impotent anger.

Silence carries on long enough for him to bring the spoon to his mouth before Skye reacts in a way that, truthfully, isn't much better. She forces the lid onto the carton of ice cream he's been eating from and carries both to the freezer without a warning, carelessly shoving them onto shelves where they land cockeyed among a stack of similar packages. ]

[As Skye opts to put away his ice cream, he pulls the spoon from his mouth. The large glop of melting ice cream sitting on his tongue as he, like a little child, still attempts to talk.] I wa-a't douh- wi-h tha-.

[He swallows, the too cold and still not small enough to swallow so quickly bite of ice cream and clears his throat.] I was still enjoying that. [Note: Even this company from Skye is welcome. He kind of likes seeing all the anger brought to the surface. It's healthy.

Now that she's effectively removed the one thing that would have kept him mostly silent, he's going to accept her suggestion to start conversation with him.]

How's the training going? [He can see what you're wearing, girl. He smirks, because he actually appreciates her all unkempt like this.]

You want to waste my time? It's not gonna be on ice cream and board games.

[ She won't pretend, won't play house, won't give him that, so as much as he's tied her hands to a certain extent into at least being in his company, she's going to do it on her terms. The freezer door swings shut. ]

Get changed. I'll show you.

[ Like any sane person, if she's going to be cornered into spending quality time with Grant Ward, she's going to spend it punching him in the face. ]

[But what if someone steals his books??? Just kidding, he's going to bring his items with him when he goes to change.

Okay, so he'd much rather spend time with Skye in her proposed scenario - even if certain body parts are still very aware of her knees - over the staring at each other in silence option. He dog ears the page he was on (yes, he's one of those people) and sets the book down on the top of the pile, picks it up, and tucks it under his arm.]

Alright. I'll meet you in ten. [He assumes, she'll stand him up, because why would she actually follow through with this, except to kick his ass. Which, again, parts of him aren't so thrilled about this opportunity.

Regardless, he vacates the kitchen and heads to his room where he changes into something more training-friendly. A heather grey t-shirt and black track pants. He shows up roughly on time.]

[ Skye waits in the training room, pounding fists swinging the heavy bag by only millimeters on its chain, and she stops when he comes in. A part of her is surprised he takes her up on it, but a bigger part feels that it goes to show the levels he'll stretch to in order to achieve the nostalgia he's searching for. While he scrambles to regain something he lost, she has no problem taking advantage of that to let some of her frustration out on him.

She looks him over when he enters the room in a look that hesitates and lingers, like a hiccup straining her lungs and throat, but disgust catches up quickly enough; she doesn't greet him. ]

[He moves into the room, reaching for a roll of wrap. Unwinding a length of it he starts to wind it around his palms and wrist. Crossing over toward her, he offers her an honest glance.]

Is this where you tell me you won't be going easy on me?

Well, if I was going to before...

[ Skye narrows her gaze, cocks her head to the side with a snide look, and heads onto the mat, stretching her arms out now that it's been long enough since her full training session for her to lose fluidity. ]

[He lifts his head and offers a knowing, yet smug, smirk. He finishes wrapping his hands and moves to the center of the mat, twisting his torso briefly and then letting his wrists make small cracking sounds when he rotates the flex in his wrapping. He probably should warm up a bit more, but he doesn't want to keep Skye waiting for whatever beatdown she's looking to give him.]

One request - [He'll at least TRY for this.] Try not to knee me in the groin, again.

I'll try.

[ The forced smile she offers him comes with a shrug that joins with the emphasis on 'try' to say no promises. Before he can answer, she's on him (nat 20 init tho) and though she leads with her left, the stronger, more targeted flurry of well-targeted punches come from her right (atk 26, 22, 18 vs flat-footed/ dmg 5+16 sneak attack, 5+7 sneak attack, 5+13 sneak attack bc you gotta get that shit in while u got it, all nonlethal). ]

Edited 2016-04-06 04:28 (UTC)

[Well, right out of the gate that first hit connects. He takes a step back as the second one hits. Clearly, he's had enough and manages to dodge that last one. He's not sure if he should be proud that she managed to get the drop on him or upset that he didn't see that coming. Still, he moves for her leading with his right (atk 23, 9 | dmg 8, 5).]

[ The first hits, staggers her, and Skye gathers her wits about her just in time to raise a hand and knock the other easily out of the way. She then takes a beat to raise a hand to her lip to find that blood comes away from it on the side where he punched her. She tilts her head like it gives her cause to abandon any reservations she had and comes at him with a pinwheel kick—her first kick sails past his face (atk 17), but her foot plants on the ground and she brings her left up from behind her to strike him flat in the chest (atk 26, dmg 6). She tries to follow it up with a punch but she's off balance with her side to him as the final kick left her, so her cross-punch falls short and is possible for him to dip back from, though it comes too close for comfort (atk 20). ]

[As he watches her form come toward him, he leans out of the way of her foot keeping his eye on her as she continues her follow through. He tries to move for the second, but it connects giving him that momentum to barely move out of the way for her final attempt. He cants his head, catching the spot of blood on her and glances to this wraps, seeing her blood there on the surface. It's not something he likes to see and so he'll just stop aiming for her face. His posture crouches slightly, leaning into her space to go for her left side, then bring a second hit to her right (atk 28, 15 | dmg 6, 7)]

[ He catches her in the right side, but she shakes it off and blocks the second hit—just narrowly—with her forearm. Then she lifts her hand to strike him across the face while she's got him close (atk 25, dmg ... 1). She seems discouraged enough by the way he seems unfazed by that hit that her next two hits go wide (atk 14, 15) by quite a bit. Ward might be avoiding the face, but Skye seems pretty determined to make hamburger out of his. ]

[The slap, which is pretty much all it feels like, causes him to blink and watch as she continues to try and put her frustration and anger into her fight. It's interesting, because he knows she has a lot of anger, but she's clearly not doing a good job of filtering it down into something she can use. Once more he opts for lower hits, going to her left side then right (atk 27, 17 | dmg 7, 9).]

Focus on the target as an object, not as someone you loathe.

[ He's wearing her down, and it shows—enough that she can barely restrain her anger in the grind of her jaw and the glower in her dark eyes after she takes only one of the hits to the abdomen and grunts with the force of it. It knocks her back, and she comes back with … even more frustration that seems to spitefully ignore his advice to little success (atk 21, 20, 16). ]

[He reaches out and blocks each of her attacks, the expression on his face growing from one of trying to help her to one of concern. Her frustration is easy to see and the way she wildly attacks -- this isn't going to help her on any level. With his hands raised, he doesn't opt to strike back, instead he offers targets to her.]

Skye, focus on the object, not the person. [He sets his hands up for her to hit.] Be angry all you want; hate me with everything you have, but don't let that side win.

Edited (suddenly all bold....) 2016-04-06 05:16 (UTC)

[ Revulsion twists Skye's expression—the nerve, to act like he can stand here and mentor her. She has a teacher: Kali. She doesn't need whatever Ward's trying to offer her. Skye goes for him with an elbow to the face, but she trips. Her ankle catches and twists her and she winds up stumbling right between his spread hands into him, shoulder blade flat against his chest (crit fail). It's nauseating and familiar and hard to extricate herself from all at once (will save 12), so it takes her a moment to drag herself out of the contact.

It occurs to her—suddenly and resolutely—that it's going to take a sharp break. Her elbow drives back into his ribs (atk nat 20, 29 total; dmg 6). She steps away then, turning to catch him in the face with another punch that flies wide (atk 21). ]

I didn't ask for tips, Ward. [ But her breath is short and it's not just flustered from the fight. ]

[He draws in a sharp breath through his nostrils, a hint of his own frustration at her willfulness creeping through. He knows that she has someone to train her, he is well aware that clearly some of that training is working because she did come into this with a clear attack, but the longer they go at this the less focused she becomes and he knows that it's because of her. Her mentor can't train her for this, they can't simulate this sort of obstacle, because they won't understand where it comes from. The elbow to his ribs earns a groan from him, but it's short-lived as her follow up is easy to duck. He offered her his hands to hit and she still opted for the face. He's grateful that she didn't knee him when she was this close.]

Then don't listen to them, Skye. [That was a little catty.]

You can train all you want and listen to whoever is on the other side of the mat for whatever advice and tactics they can provide you. They did a good job preparing you for the fight, they just can't prepare you for this one. [He even points down to the mat, to signify that he's not being vague for fun.]

So, you can bottle it all up and refuse to listen or you can use this opportunity to get through that haze of being pissed off and actually hit me.

[ This pacifist refusal to fight back might be what irritates her the most—or so she thinks, until he starts talking again. Somehow, nothing manages to get under her skin and stoke the fire of rage in her chest like Ward running his mouth. So, thank you very much, she will bottle it all up and refuse to listen.

She comes at him again in a flurry of easily blocked hits that aren't even well-aimed, as though even if they did come near him, they'd glance off. Each one comes as a punctuation mark between breaths. ]

If you want to teach me a lesson so badly — [ Punch (13). ] stop talking — [ punch (15) ] and fight back! [ The last one comes as a kick that is practically begging to be caught at the center of his chest, it's so tired and poorly formed (atk 8). ]

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