knightsoflegend | open ♔ valentine's day

[ 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). ]

[He's not asking to teach her, he's barely imparting a lesson here except trying to get her to shake off enough of that raw emotion that she's letting cloud every single thing she tries to do. Her insistence that she doesn't need his help isn't really convincing him as she lobs easy blows at him and then actually puts her foot somewhere near his chest to the point that he can take a loose hold of her ankle and then let it go.]

We aren't fighting, Skye. This isn't combat and I'm not looking to injure you until you give up. [Maybe she had thought that she could go that direction, but this isn't really landing in her favor as of late.]

You wanted to show me how your training has been going. [He again, focuses his gaze on her, intense and expectant. Both of his hands going back up again.]

So show me.

[ She staggers back as he drops her ankle to regain her balance. A special brand of humiliation turns her face hot—he's messing with her, and truthfully, she should have known he had that in him; she's seen Ward fight. But it needles her all the same because this isn't what she'd hoped she'd get out of him, this isn't stress relief, it's causing it.

But only because she's allowing it to. Begrudgingly, she allows herself to privately admit that he has a point about her unchecked anger blinding her, about her letting it get ahead of her in what should otherwise be a controlled sparring match with a concerted goal of some form of release (not, she's sure, the kind he's hoped for).

Although she takes a subtle, deep breath before coming at him again, leveling herself off and tempering that anger (though not subduing it entirely, she hasn't mastered that), she doesn't stop in her insistence for a real fight or at the very least a real sparring match. There's too much instruction in the way he tries to bait her into a passive show of her abilities, too much coaching, and she won't allow him that.

Instead, she comes at him with a kick to the outer side of his knee (atk 25, dmg 4) and follows it with a punch that whiffs past him because she expects him to have fallen from the kick but she's not able to take his leg out from under him effectively (atk 13). She course corrects, and her right fist comes up to catch him in the chin (atk nat 20, 24 total, dmg 8). ]

Edited 2016-04-06 05:57 (UTC)

[The first hit to his knee connects, but doesn't do that much to him that he has to worry about her attempt to sweep him to his feet. Of course, when she clocks him, it definitely gives him something to think about. His hand comes up to rub at his jaw, tasting the hint of blood on the inside of his cheek from where his teeth clicked hard enough to catch.

He looks at Skye and shifts his stance before coming at her again. (atk 21, 18 | dmg 8, 5) Attempting to go low against her frame once more, aiming for her ribs.]

[ Winded and slow, Skye allows Ward's first hit to land, but dances out of the way of the second—very narrowly. His fist whiffs through the air close enough to catch the loose fold of her t-shirt. She grabs for his hand, ready to twist and throw him if she can get a hold—but she telegraphs the movement, and bringing both hands around his forearm also opens her up to other hits (attack of opportunity provoked! if it misses (AC 19), her grapple roll is 22, which is an opposed melee attack roll). ]

[The moment she goes to grab him, he hits her where she's open (atk 28, dmg 9) and uses that to avoid being caught. He steps back a bit before going at her again (atk 31, dmg 8 | atk 24, dmg 4).]

[ It's the second-to-last hit that gets her, really, drives up into her abdomen and knocks her back off balance. Skye thuds to the floor in a haphazard spill of limbs, one palm slapping against the mat to catch herself and absorb some of the shock as she does. It doesn't help much, because the bruises aren't in her ass from the fall, but in the rest of her from one indisputable truth: Ward still has the upper hand.

She grunts with impact, props herself on her elbows looking up at him, knees bent and bangs pressed flat to her forehead with sweat. There's blood at the corner of her mouth, and she's sure beneath her shirt, bruises have already begun to form in ugly yellow patterns.

She does not move to get back up, breathes heavily as she holds his gaze, then strips off her gloves before she finally holds a hand up and out towards him, palm up, fingers splayed in a motion to 'stop.' ] I'm out.

[The moment she went down he took a step back and moved into a relaxed stance. His instinct to reach down and offer help is there, but he holds back, knowing that it probably wouldn't be well received. Instead he moves to grab a towel and offer it down to her. If she accepts that, he'll venture to the small fridge and grab her a bottle of water. He can hear how labored her breathing is - how she must have been holding it in through all of it.

He's impressed. Not to say that he wouldn't have been impressed before, but this is good. This is very good.]

[ Exhaustion grips her, a heavy weight that makes her lungs burn and her muscles ache. She doesn't feel impressed with herself: she feels like she's come up short, her pride as winded by the forfeit as her body is by the fight. Still, she reaches up to swipe the towel from his hand and wads it against her breastbone to drag sweat away from her neckline while she watches him pace away. The anger, as it turns out, isn't quieted by violence, only further incensed. ]

[He returns to offer her a bottle of water. Reaching down with it in his hand.]

You did good. [He pauses.] I'm sure that's not what you want to hear, but I still want to say it.

I didn't ask for your opinion.

[ For that, she ignores the bottle in his hand and pushes her way to her feet, ignoring the way her muscles scream under the effort. She can feel bruises forming along her ribcage. They're familiar, and it does, actually, make her feel a little better to have some physical manifestation of how Ward makes her feel. ]

[He holds onto the bottle, even as she rises to her feet. He offers it out again, because she needs to hydrate. Not even just for the replenishment of fluids, but so that her muscles don't cramp.]

And that was what I expected to hear in response.

Too bad it didn't stop you from saying anything in the first place.

[ She sneers around the words. A beat of silence follows before she grouchily and roughly swipes the water bottle from him and turns away, folding the towel around her neck while she unscrews the plastic cap. ]

[He's at least glad that she took the water. He'll go grab one for himself now and linger for a minute or two, taking a slow sip.]

You're going to hate me no matter what I do, Skye. Why should I cater to your anger when it's still going to make you angry?

That's because it's not about what you do, Ward! [ She shouts it finally, rounding on him. She should quiet down. She should bite her tongue, knowing that anyone could walk in, but she doesn't. ] It's about what you did! What you are!

[He's a bit startled that she actually says it. That she puts that much of her knowledge out there. Of course, he doesn't show any of that on the outside (will save 22), but it's there. Inside.]

And that's it. There's no second chances, no consideration for circumstances -- for not seeing the whole picture until it was too late? [He shakes his head, a little in frustration - but mostly in denial.] I left - yes, I ran, but I still left and I didn't go crawling back, trying to angle my way into what I had. It would have been easy, Skye. The reputation alone -- would have paved my way.

Instead, I came here. [She might think that she had something to do with it, but really she only sealed it for him. He hadn't known she was here until he saw her, until he had eyes on her and then he knew that there was something worth pursuing in doing the right thing for once.]

[Drawn in by the sounds of shouting, Willow pokes her head in and sees... Well, they aren't people that she knows. Part of her thinks that she should just leave them to it, but there's this part of her (the knightly part. and the woman part.) that doesn't like the idea of leaving when Skye might need help.

Not that she thinks Skye can't handle herself. She knows literally nothing about her. It's just one of those things. You don't walk away when another woman might need help getting out of a difficult situation.]

...Everything okay in here?

[ Venom curdles in Skye's mouth, ready to spit out at him every ounce of disgust she can muster at the fact that he has the gall to demand reprieve, to demand credit for not being a scumbag. ]

No one owes you just because you — [ She stops short when she hears Willow's mousy voice, and her head whips to the side, eyes wide and flashing with still-present anger even as they fix on her. Some of the fight drains out of Skye, gets buried quickly under a thick veil offered by weariness. ]

I— [ She squares her shoulders, casts one more glance at Ward, hateful and challenging, before she strides towards Willow where she stands by the door. ] Just sparring. Doesn't matter: we're done now.

[There's no doubt in his mind that this is the core of Skye's issue with him being here. That she needs to vent, to get this out so that at the very least he doesn't have to constantly be waiting for it to happen. His voice hadn't raised too much, at least not that he had thought, but clearly someone over heard and he knows that means this isn't going to happen. It'll be bottled up and she'll blow up at him again another time.

Still, he has that internal need to defend himself, to state that he doesn't think anyone owes him anything, that he's here to earn that, but he knows that will be lost in her anger. It's also not what he wants another Knight to overhear.]

Yeah, it's fine. It's over.

Right. [Willow looks from Skye to Ward, then back to Skye- assessing how 'fine' and 'over' she thinks that conversation really is.]

So, um... I was actually looking for you. [Lies. Such lies. She doesn't know Skye at all but she's trying to give her a decent excuse to get away and not have to deal with aftershocks of whatever this argument is. Bluff 15.] We had that...thing. The thing you were going to help me with?

[She's trying, okay.]

[He's not going to try and stop Skye from leaving. He also has to appreciate the fellow Knight stepping in and trying to get her out of what probably appears to be a hostile situation. Still, he's good at lying. He can spot a decent lie and this isn't even a decent lie. (sense motive NAT 20 / 35 total)

He's not going to care, though. He's not going to stop Skye if that's what she wants to do. He looks at Skye, not at the interrupting redhead.]

If you have somewhere you should be -- [He leaves it open, the implication that he knows she doesn't and that she probably wants to continue to read him the riot act, but he's not going to get in the way if she wants an out.]

[ Later, Skye will appreciate Willow's presence, the impetus for her to set her anger aside and evacuate rather than continue driving stubbornly on like a ram that doesn't know any better. For now, she can hardly see past the haze of red to consider that she should walk away. It was a slip, a loss of carefully cultivated control that Skye fights to regain.

But now she has people pulling her in different directions—a lousy wisdom check has Skye scrutinizing Ward's offer for double meanings, as if he might be threatening to catch up with her at a worse time when it's not on her own terms later. But she still stops at the door by Willow and shakes her head. ]

I'm serious. It's fine. [ And she finally drums up a smile that's rather convincing in how it tries to be at tired ease, giving the impression that her frustration is nothing more than a result of getting her ass beat and the subsequent exhaustion (bluff 29). ] We were running drills, decided to spar, and I'm being a sore loser. I'll shower it off. [ She claps a hand on Willow's shoulder and, in a well-intentioned nudge, tries to guide her from the gym with her, one final dark look shot over her shoulder at Ward where he stands alone on the mats. ]

[Willow believes that smile, believes that Skye is okay, and follows along with the gentle nudging without any hesitation. She doesn't know either of them, so she's got no context here, but she doesn't regret her decision to stop by and check in. Once they've stepped out of the training room, she glances to Skye.]

If it helps at all, any sparring I would do would result in me being a literal sore loser.

Yeah, well, that makes two of us.

[ As soon as they're out of view of the gym, Skye lets her stiff steps turn into the limp that they're masking, a result of the injuries around her ribs. She might have to get that looked at later, if she can't manage to sleep it off. ]

Not many people here believe in pulling punches.

We should get you to the Light wing. One of those potions and you'll be feeling way better.

[The way she's limping has Willow worried okay.]

I'm Willow, by the way. Rosenberg. Dragon's Hoard.

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