The Bad Idea, or Me Befallen By It?

[hallelujahjunction]

Who: Dan Sagittarius and Guts
What: Sparring and practicing with swords. Homoerotic tension. A truly incredible height difference, too.
Where: Training Area
When: After their conversation on the top deck, but before the night attack on Dave and Wash.
Warnings/Notes: Foul language, firearms.

[Dan has once again, for the second time in about six hours, forsaken the buddy system everyone’s supposed to be operating under, in spirit if not in law. He feels guilty about it, knowing that the others are going to stress out at having an uncooperative flake heading off on his own habitually, but the rig is claustrophobic enough without feeling like he’s being babysat all the time. He was starting to get so worked up he was adding shortness of breath and tinnitus to the residual post-electrocution muscle spasms and jitteriness, so he gave the group the slip, grabbed that Mac guy no one trusts to find his way out of a paper bag, and headed down to the training area.

If the fresh air on the top deck wasn’t enough to calm his nerves, maybe refreshing the skills he may imminently need will help. First is the shooting range. Dan’s carried a firearm since he was six, and not having one on him has been one of the many disorienting and permanently frustrating things about life on the rig. The shooting range here, thankfully, has a nice selection of weapons, and after setting Mac up with over-the-ear protectors and a Nerf gun (he wouldn’t trust that man with a flyswatter), Dan works his way through target practice with a hunting rifle, a handgun and a revolver. He’s always preferred the revolver; something about having to keep careful track of how many shots you fire makes you more thoughtful, more respectful of the fact that you’re wielding a weapon that could end a life in a split second. When you have limited ammunition before a reload, you have to think before you shoot, and it’s always good to think before you shoot.

Following that, he dismantles the guns and cleans them himself for the next person, not because he got them messy or doesn’t trust the cleaning practices here, but because it feels good to take something apart with his hands. And when he’s still feeling strung-out and twitchy, he decides to work on his hand-to-hand combat skills. See if some physical exertion resets his nervous system. He makes sure Mac’s still in eye- and earshot, then sets up some droids.

The training droids are useful, but after about thirty minutes it becomes obvious that they move in a particular pattern and have certain tells before they make a move. As they become predictable, Dan gets in closer, blocking hits and counter-striking until his forearms are bruised and knuckles are bloody. His technique is artless, utilitarian, trained by experience instead of theory, but it’s effective.

He’s still occasionally drooling on himself, but the muscle twitching has significantly receded, so clearly this is working, beating the tar out of a droid to deal with the frustration of being so goddamn helpless while something’s running around torturing kids, of having a monster to hunt and people to protect and absolutely no way to go about doing that, on this stupid craphole of a moving Tonka Truck, under the thumb of a bunch of tie-wearing jackasses who don’t seem to value anything Dan values.

Facing down another droid, he grabs a machete from the rack of weapons.]

Comments

[garmr]

[ More trouble is around for Dan - Guts is nearby, because the training room is one of the few places he can work the edge off being stuck in capitivity. If he weren't allowed to swing his sword around every once in a while, he might have torn someone's head off months ago. Between training, guarding, eating and sleeping (well, attempting to) he found most of his day occupied.

Right now, he is currently entangled with a Jorgmund suit to get his gear for this training session. Something about the off-hours of the day causing a delay in unlocking it and getting the cumbersome equipment over. The conversation sounds tense, and a little contentious. It is certainly noticeable from Dan's place near the dummies.

With the added tension of a murderer on the loose, Guts looks just about ready to do something stupid and satisfying to the thinly smiling man in front of him. ]

How long's it gonna take? Can't see why I can't get the damn sword myself.

[He didn't care for excuses, but clearly the Guts method of being menacing wasn't all too effective. A little salve on the situation might avert the brewing trouble.]

[hallelujahjunction]

[Dan takes note when he sees Guts come in, but he doesn't take action until he sees the rising tension at the training center weapons station. He slashes a droid's "throat" open - nothing but stuffing, which is comforting to Dan, because he's hated each and every time he's had to do the same thing to a living creature and received a spray of blood in turn - and kicks it aside before walking over to eavesdrop.

Or intervene, really. He can't help himself.]

Sorry, am I interrupting? I'm just returning this. Thought it'd be good to mix it up a little, try a variety of weapons. What've you got on tap?

[He sets the machete on the counter and takes a step back, looking at Guts.]

You got your mind on something in specific? I feel the opposite, I'm just overwhelmed by this embarrassment of choices, and ain't half of them what I'm used to.

[garmr]

[Guts turns to look at Dan, noticing his bloodied knuckles and bruises on his arms. The ripped open droids lying about, too. How long had he been fighting there? He certainly empathized with the need to do some violence, at least. The brewing anger evaporates a bit while giving him the look-over.]

["Any extra personal equipment is available if you've been pre-approved for training access," chirps the suit, adjusting his glasses. He is awfully robotic in his cheeriness even while addressing Guts,"And, as I stated previously, once the lock's undone. :)"]

It's gonna be more of a hassle if I gotta wait for security to carry it over.

[Guts looks at what's available on the weapons rack. He won't get the same exertion without the Dragonslayer's weight. He may as well be going barehanded. To Dan's question, he says irritably:]

I'm just in the mood to hit something.

[hallelujahjunction]

Funny, I’m in the same mood. You might call it fate. [His mouth grins cheerily, but everything nose-up expresses that same pent-up paralyzing frustration. He gets it, Guts. That’s why he’s been in here destroying inanimate shit for hours.]

I could use a partner. I figured out all the droid patterns and now it’s just like being on an assembly line more’n anything. You use a sword, right?

[garmr]

Sword’s what my hand knows best.

[The moment their attention is drawn to each other, the suit makes a brisk power walk away, very much interested in other things he had to do. It’s remarkable how quickly the guy gets himself out of speaking distance.

Guts catches this - but figures He won’t get anything out of a chase. He instead takes note of the machete on the counter.]

I see you know your way around a falchion.

[hallelujahjunction]

A...whuh? [Dan looks back and forth between Guts and the machete.] That might be something lost in translation. Honestly, my skills with blades are a fucking disgrace.

[He defaults almost always to cudgels, bats or staves, if he's not just cutting to the quick of it and using firearms.]

But I'd be willing to learn if you're willing to teach. I'm a hardy student. I don't say boo about a bad grade, Smalls.

[Get it, it's funny because Guts is more than a foot taller than him.]

[garmr]

[Mild disappointment... he could do with a good fight to get his blood going. ]

I can teach you, but right now probably ain’t a good time. I feel like swinging my sword as hard as I can.

[He’s not in the mood to hold back too much, in other words. Beating on someone who is learning just doesn’t sound like a fun time.]

[hallelujahjunction]

Alright. Maybe instead of teaching me, you'll challenge me. [He raps his knuckles on the counter and summons the reluctant employee.] Armor, bring me a bat?

[He cocks his head at Guts, as if to say that now he's decided that this is going to be a good time.]

[garmr]

Okay.

[A challenge, he can do. He supposes this will be a nice distraction while he waits for his weapon. Guts doesn't ask the employee for anything, apparently having decided he'll fight with his bare hands.

Of course, the fact that one of those hands was made of titanium was probably the reason why. He was always fond of using his metal arm as a bludgeon - Emily wasn't the only one interested in it testing its mettle. ]

[hallelujahjunction]

[Dan at first hesitates at using an aluminum bat against an unarmed foe - but, well, Guts has over a foot of height on him, plus seems in the mood to take as many hits as he gives. That gives Dan the green light to take the bat and head to the sparring mat.]

Count of three?

[garmr]

[He nods. To the count of three, it is.

Joining Dan at the other end of the mat, he stretches a bit of stiffness out of his shoulders and neck (shitty sleeping habits catch up to you). Then, he stands and waits for his opponent to attack. No fighting stance. Not even a pair of raised fists.

In truth, he's been slaying apostles for so long that it's been years since he's felt properly threatened by another human, barring one clever exception. Unless Dan has some odd magic he doesn't know about, he is fairly certain he can handle what's coming for him.]

Hit me with whatever you've got.

[hallelujahjunction]

[Dan never starts a sparring match at full capacity, because if it's overkill he may actually end up hurting his partner and if he needs to, he can just step it up. So, despite the fact that he's fairly sure Guts is fully capable of meeting him if not more, he starts lightly, throwing blows to thwack around instead of maim.

It's clear that this is Dan's favored weapon, even if it's lighter than the one he's used to - the bat he typically uses has some iron and silver worked in, to handle werewolves and phantoms, and it's been enchanted by a friend. He's always preferred it because, like the revolver, it requires some cleverness, some thought, and unlike a blade, it's hard to accidentally kill someone unless you're aiming for their head. Unless someone's using magic, firing a gun or spitting literal venom, most enemies in Dan's line of work can be effectively taken out as threats with a good kneecapping. But, regardless of the fact that this one's lighter, he moves with it as if it were an extension of his arm, all nearly twenty years of experience with it making his actions efficient and swift.

Guts is taller than him, and likely stronger than him, which Dan figures means he needs to leverage being fast and a smaller target. Even with the bat, he only has barely more reach, so he does his best to stay right out of range. He throws a quick glance around the room to see if there's anything of the setting to benefit from, and starts to draw the fight towards under the pullup rings, which are at a height he can easily maneuver but near forehead height for Guts.]

[garmr]

[He certainly looked the part of the brute, with a lot of muscle packed onto an already large frame, but Guts' movements are quick and nimble. He had to be, when the blows that usually came for him could slam him straight through the broad side of a stone wall. It doesn't lean fully into inhuman - not yet - but he matches blow for blow with seemingly little exertion.

If he was going to be a challenge for Dan, Guts wanted to get a taste of what his opponent here is capable of. He stays mostly on the defensive, drinking in what habits and patterns his partner here liked to use. Guts' use of his prosthetic arm is just as skilled as his footwork, well used to parrying and working it around blades and other weaponry. The blows he sends back are heavy - easily enough to rattle the metal of his bat. It is thoroughly unpleasant business if it connects with flesh, though he isn't looking to beat his opponent back too hard from the get go.

He can tell Dan was highly skilled with his weapon, but not too keen on going in for the kill. Although they were practicing here, Guts finds it curious.]

Why use a club if you don't aim for the head?

[Said just in time to feel a wooden ring bump up against the back of his head, and takes note of the obstacles Dan had led him to. So there's some cleverness with this one, too.]

[hallelujahjunction]

[Guts is much faster than Dan anticipated, which, well, Dan wanted a challenge and he got one. He steps his game up as best he can. He's creative with the bat; rather than just swinging, he smoothly adjusts his grip back and forth to use it as a two-handed block and he throws jabs towards Guts' midsection whenever Guts closes the gap between them.

Guts throws a blow that lands on the bat a mere centimeter from Dan's knuckles, and Dan puts more space between them, jumping backwards over some exercise equipment but keeping near enough to the rings that they'll remain an ongoing concern. He shrugs and grins; despite panting for breath, he's having a great time.]

Personal preference. [He slides towards a rack of dumbbells.] There's enough death out there without me adding on unnecessarily. Think fast.

[He grabs a five-pound weight and slings it at Guts' stomach.]

[garmr]

[He lets the weight hit his body with a dull thunk, not even flinching at the impact. It isn't simply to show off, Guts wants to make a point here to spice up the fight a little further.]

You don't have to worry about me. I can take a lot of punishment.

[Hit him harder, Dan!! He wants to feel the pain!

His next move is a leap forward, closing that distance between them in an instant. The punch that comes is a lot harder than the previous ones - he might be looking to whack the weapon right out of his hands if the blow connects. Looks like he's decided to escalate the pressure.]

[hallelujahjunction]

[Point taken.

Dan's been expecting Guts to switch him up and put him on the defense - he can tell by now that he's not going to "win", and that instead this is about making Guts work for it before Dan taps out. And he fully intends to make him work.

Dan's hand flies up and grabs one of the pullup rings and he throws his weight back, using the equipment to swing in an arc deeper than if he'd just ducked. Guts' blow misses him by so little that Dan feels the wind off Guts' fist against his chest. He lets go of the ring and rolls to his feet, back out of immediate range.]

I reckon we have that in common, big guy. [He glances around to see what in the environment he can use to turn Guts' size and strength from an attribute to a handicap. There's the baseball launcher, but it's across the room and sprinting to it would telegraph exactly what he's about to do. There's the climbing wall, but what advantage Dan has in being lighter he loses in reach, and he'd have to drop the weapon. And there's the monkey bars, which he'll be able to navigate more easily than Guts.

Dan takes the offensive and tries to push Guts towards that direction, trying to keep it from being obvious what his goal is.]

[garmr]

[Dan's maneuver with the ring piques his interest, the corner of his mouth quirked up into a pleased grin.]

Slippery.

[Yes. This is exactly what he wanted. Now he just needed a bit of blood between them to make it a proper match.

The second time around, Guts is far less tolerant of letting himself get pressed back. He's aggressive, and the blows come harder and faster than before. That prosthetic arm of his is going to start denting into the metal, reverberating through like the blows of a hammer. Breaking the weapon altogether isn't out of the question, at the rate he was going.

But he doesn't opt for that, yet. The moment there is an opening - a jab or parry that went on just a split second too long - he'll attempt something a little more audacious. That audacious thing will be grabbing Dan and his weapon to toss them both away from the rings. The area he aimed at would still be closer to the monkey bars, but perhaps not in the way it was originally intended.]

[hallelujahjunction]

[There's a part of Dan that feels fear at this moment, an honest fear of taking a blow that won't kill him, but will hurt him and maybe cripple him going forward. A broken hand or a maimed shoulder. But he likes that fear. That fear is a flavor that runs in the sweet drink of adrenaline.

He barely keeps Guts from landing a blow, and he gives up ground, decidedly on the defense. The bat dents, and then the bat bends, until it's more boomerang-shaped, which reduces its utility significantly.

But Dan figures out fairly quickly that the monkey bars aren't in the forefront of Guts' mind, even if he can't mount an offensive enough to force Guts back. So the other option is to draw him in - and what better way than with a live target? What better option than to take some of what Guts is giving?

He purposefully doesn't dodge when Guts grabs him. Instead he does his best to absorb the impact and then, when thrown, instead of a single roll to his feet he gives it another roll until he's in the safe metal structure. He can't use his bat for shit here - at this point it's a means to jab and nothing else - but cradled in the metal bars he's hard to hit, and can still throw punches. And the bent, damaged bat is useless to him now anyway.

He pants for air. His lower lip, cut from hitting the ground during the throw, bleeds down his chin. But he raises his fists in a traditional boxing stance, shielded by the metal bars and ready to duck through the next ring of them to relative safety. If Guts is going to get him, Guts may just end up having to come after him through metal squares and rectangles smaller than his standing height.]

[garmr]

[Guts pursues him, of course. He promised Dan a challenge, and he is nothing if not relentless. Although he is showing little signs of exertion, there is an intensity in his eye that was absent in the day to day. Something about the heat of a fight quickly drained away the weariness that came with their mundane routine - even if it was mock one.

He stops at the outer edge of the steel cage, circling around the structure to see what his opponent is planning next. For all he had in brute strength, Guts still stopped to assess that Dan was pulling him away from the open ground where he could move freely.

It isn't a forest of stone pillars, but similar enough in principle. Something like that would be even more encumbering if he had his sword and armor with him. The metal was strong and the angles were even tighter, with both horizontal and vertical beams. It'd be hard to maneuver and even harder to break, if he tried. ]

Not a bad idea, hiding in there.

[He notices the split lip. Would his enemy do well enough to return the favor?]

I'd almost think you're used to this kind of thing.

bless, dan gets to use his stripper powers

[hallelujahjunction]

What, fighting or hiding? Because I've done a little of both.

[Dan, with a grin lightly yellowed with blood, keeps moving so that the vertical poles of the box are beside him and the horizontal bars on the top remain over him, which means Guts can't hit him from above or from the right, only directly forward or from the left. He spares a moment to wipe his bloodied mouth across the back of his hand, then drops that hand slightly to feel the vertical bar next to him.

It's been a hell of a time since Dan got to use anything close to his poledancing skills; it's been at least five years since he did any kind of dancing for money. But the body remembers more than the brain forgets, and sometimes the skillset comes back when opportunity arises.

Dan grabs the bar and drops his body weight, swinging around into a kick aimed right at Guts' right knee, using the metal bar to give himself a healthy dose of quick momentum while protecting, now, his left side.]

amazin

[garmr]

Uh...

[?????

What? What kind of fighting style is that? Had Dan been some kind of street performer in his past??

Not quite entangled into those metal bars, Guts can still move freely enough to avoid that first blow, but that doesn't solve the problem of how he's going to get his hands on his opponent. He supposes there isn't much use waiting it out. Not his style, anyway.

He swiftly maneuvers himself under the bars, leaving himself still able to move right and left, flanked in the rear by the two thicker poles forming the more open-ended half of the bars. Guts closes in to try and strike him off his perch with his forearm. The tight angles made it harder for him to make the strong, sweeping blows from before, but he adapts. The fight must continue. ]

Re: amazin

[hallelujahjunction]

[Guts hasn't shown much of a weakness yet, so getting that expression of surprise when Dan swoops around the pole feels like both a victory and a handhold in this match. Dan realizes he has a little bit of the element of surprise, but it won't last him more than a few seconds, likely, and it's not as if he was ever using these skills for combat back at the strip bars. The main advantage is that he can turn the corners of the box quickly, and with enough momentum to hit fast and hard with hands or feet.

He's going to have to be careful, though. His body remembers how to do it but those muscles haven't worked that way in a while, and he could easily wrench out a shoulder. He jumps back and swings around the pole at the far end, getting out of the box and putting the ladder between him and Guts, and throws a punch aided by the torque of going around the pole through one of the open spaces. He figures Guts will have to be more careful punching through the slats - bigger hands, smaller window.]

[garmr]

[Guts finds his metal arm slamming into the pole with loud clang as Dan slips away to put more bars between them. Chips of paint get stuck to his limb once he pries it free for the next attack. He sees the punch coming, but hits the back of his head against a bar when he avoids it, pausing for a split second. Too small. Not enough room at all.]

Tch.

[He sounds annoyed, but in truth he is enjoying the added challenge. Spars tended to generally go one way most of the time, with him having to significantly hold back to avoid hurting his partner. Having a proper problem to work through makes it harder than a simple contest of strength and speed. Very clever.

Rather than try and punch him through the slats, he grips the top rung of the ladder and vaults over it to the outside. No need for striking from here - he didn't have enough room to build up the momentum, anyway.

His plan is simpler than that - he'll tackle Dan off his bars and right onto the ground, and end this in one swoop.]

[hallelujahjunction]

[It's a hell of an impressive vault, but the height means that it gives Dan just enough time to get out of the way and back to the other side of the ladder. He feels skin coming up off his palm and friction burn from the pole down his wrist and forearm, and sweat is matting his hair to his forehead.

This is what feeling good feels like.

He doesn't hide behind the ladder this time, instead keeping momentum so he barely has to put his feet on the ground before grabbing the pole on the far end of the ladder and taking the turn as fast as he can. It gets him enough speed that the ensuing kick is just about face-height for Guts.]

[wheyoftheadept]

[Enter Saturday, who had innocently come in search of her and Guts' regular combat date, only to see Guts batting at a very small man (still taller than her, dammit) through the bars of a gymnasium, much like a cat trying to get at a mouse.

Then homeboy jumps on a pole, swings himself around, and kicks Guts in the face.

Saturday has no choice but to crack up.]

Hoi! [she cups her hands around her mouth.] Guts! Just pull out the damn monkey bars, they can't be in that deep!