[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]

"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.