[for jyn]

[pylades_drunk]

It's been quite a while since Grantaire, with any regularity, picked up his canne de combat or practiced even the more basic of boxing and savate. Although there's plenty of reason for that -- ranging from being busy with Green Gardens and set design for Shakespeare in the Park to the stress of a wedding to simple lazy domesticity -- as the days push onward toward his birthday and another year he finds himself critiquing his lack of discipline. It's funny how changes for the better can make one feel old.

There's always a bit of strange energy too, in the fall. The dark clings, in these shorter days, and drags at him, making him feel restless and inert at the same time. And there's a sort of ominousness; it's so rare that the end of October goes smoothly that being prepared for anything seems sensible.

So it is that he makes himself go to the gym, to box and spar and wear himself out, and after one visit leaves him cursing sloppy technique but pleasantly sore and remembering his own strength, he decides to go again.

This time, he invites a friend who can fight him more roughly than a bag.

Comments

[nextchance]

Jyn has been scarce but not absent these past few weeks, keeping to herself but resurfacing enough that the friends she's got left will know that she hasn't disappeared and is physically alright. Emotionally is another matter altogether, of course, but she's been carefully refusing to go there since the afternoon Lincoln found her and told her that Cassian was gone. She lived like this for a long time before Darrow. There doesn't seem to be any reason she shouldn't do so again.

For a while there, she'd been properly settled — foolishly, too, she thinks now. When she started to feel otherwise, it was easy to find an outlet and get it out of her system. Now, she feels restless and on edge almost all the time, the city seeming so much smaller than it once did. So when Grantaire asks if she wants to meet him to spar, she doesn't hesitate to agree. It might do her a little good.

"Hey," she says when she walks into the gym and spots him, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. "Haven't done this in a while." She's done plenty of sparring and fighting of late, but not with Grantaire. Now's as good a time as any to change that.

[pylades_drunk]

"We haven't," he says with a small smile. "My fault, I think. I haven't been putting the time in." At least, it's as much his fault as it might be hers, life getting in the way. Grantaire's very aware, though, that his is in a more contented place than hers: he's checked in on Jyn from time to time, of course, but not as much as he should or really wants to, and part of that is not knowing quite what to say or if he's wanted.

It's immediately relieving, though, to see her - both in general and in such a familiar context, and Grantaire doesn't dive straight into concern, rather choosing to keep things light. Sparring is a good outlet all on its own.

"You might even have an edge up," he teases with a grin, tossing his baton from one hand to another.

[nextchance]

"Probably mine, too," Jyn says with a shrug, not seeming overly bothered by the fact of that. They both know she's had her reasons, most of which she doesn't feel particularly inclined to talk about, at least not yet. She's too tense. Enough time spent sparring might loosen her up enough to do so, but for now, she's not sure there's anything to be said, anyway. What happened, happened. It's over now, there's no taking it back, and nothing she can say or do that would change it. They're both here now, anyway. How long it's been since they've last done this doesn't much matter in light of that.

Setting her bag down on the floor out of the way, she crouches to fish her own baton out of it, rifling past clothes to do so. She's been carrying her belongings with her, the way she used to when she was on the run for all those years; it just feels familiar, right, more so than staying in the house or putting down roots somewhere else would.

"I might," she agrees as she straightens. "But I promise not to kick your ass too badly."

[pylades_drunk]

He takes in that she's carrying an awful lot with her -- an apt metaphor, he thinks to himself -- but doesn't state it out loud. Instead, Grantaire smiles a little at her retort.

"In that case, then." He gestures her to come on into the ring when she's ready, spinning his own baton between his hands and loosening up his shoulders. He doesn't intend to jump right into full combat, since she's only just gotten here, but if Jyn wants to set a hard pace, he's ready for one.

[nextchance]

Once she's gotten the baton out of her bag, Jyn rolls her shoulders back and stretches her arms in front of her for a moment. She's not overly concerned with limbering up when, for most of her life, she's had to fight without the luxury of being able to do so, but it can't hurt. Besides, because they haven't done this in a while, she doesn't want to make herself look bad.

The chances of that seem slim, of course. If anything, part of her can't help but wonder if it's dangerous to be sparring with a friend when her nerves are so raw, making her badly want an outlet, but she isn't going to back out now. She can be careful, and do so without taking it too easy on him.

Heading into the ring, she smiles faintly. "Let's do this."

[pylades_drunk]

He nods, a brief, sharp sort of thing. Grantaire's well aware Jyn likely needs something to unleash on, but he knew that when he invited her; he's not sure if it's healthy, but there's something calming, fulfilling about being left sore, within a safe context. And he's not planning to take it easy on her, despite all his joking about being out of shape.

They circle for just a moment before he advances, striking forward toward her shoulder in an easy "come on".

"To knockdown?" he asks, since they're not in the fray yet. "Best of three?"

[nextchance]

"Best of three," Jyn says with a short nod, rolling her shoulder back and eyeing him warily before, finally, she strikes. It's a difficult but not impossible middle ground to find, fighting without holding back but also without actually trying to hurt her opponent. She wouldn't want to do any damage here when this is all for fun, and for stress relief. Granted, she doesn't know if it will actually accomplish that, but it is always nice to have an outlet, and a way of releasing tension that isn't terribly dangerous. They'll both, she expects, be bruised and sore, but not seriously injured, and that's enough.

She appreciates that, actually, more than she could ever try to say. Now isn't the time for sentiment even if she were more comfortable with it, though. There's a fight to focus on.

[pylades_drunk]

She hovers before striking, sharp and fast like a snake, and he just manages to block it; the pick up of the pace brings a grin to his face and they fall into it, batons colliding back and forth with the sharp clack of wood on wood, and a few times, against skin with a smack: it stings, and they huff, feet moving faster, but no real harm's done.

Grantaire likes to bully into the space of his opponents, trying to duck inside Jyn's reach or step inside her stance. She's shorter than he is, so it's much harder than it would be with someone like Bahorel, back at home, but it keeps them moving.

[nextchance]

For a little while, Jyn doesn't have to think, at least not about anything that isn't strategy. It helps, too, that her experience with these batons is limited to her use of them with Grantaire. They're similar to others she knows, but not as instinctive as a blaster or even her truncheons. Under other circumstances, she might find that frustrating, able to imagine far too easily what Saw would have to say, but right now, the extra focus it requires is sort of refreshing. She doesn't have room or time to think about anything else, just to consider her next move and strike.

She learned young how to use her size to her advantage, to make the most of being small and slight. It's a useful skill now, and tempers her instinct just to attack. Still, the aggressiveness in her movements is something she's unable to hide, and something she imagines he'll expect from times they've sparred before.

[pylades_drunk]

Grantaire isn't expecting her to be gentle, but there's a little extra in her attack at the moment, an aggressiveness, even an anger he suspects she has little outlet for. It's making him work for his defensive moves, and it's also why he's not particularly bothered when she does strike home, as much as it stings with the flexible wood.

She'd have won by points already, if they were playing at sticks, but to knockdown is a different sort of thing. With her momentum constantly moving forward, he keeps up his quick defense and then abruptly steps out of the way, sweeping his baton down across her step.