[Training] hit or miss

Leafchange was shaping up to be quite the busy season, and Soh was eager to get in some training while she had the chance. Since becoming Stormbreak's Heart, she'd been neglecting her practice, and it chafed at her; she could practically feel her staff and knife skills slipping, not to mention her already-questionable hand-to-hand abilities. So on this particular day, she'd carved out some time in her morning to find the training yard, weapons in hand, planning to warm up with some stretches and basic hand-to-hand combat first before switching over to weapons training.

It was earlier than most people would get up to come train, and she preferred it that way; it was less likely that someone would see her making silly mistakes. She was still fairly new to fighting in general - only a few seasons' worth of lessons in - and, as a result, she often felt a bit ridiculous in her attempts at self-defense. Especially as Stormbreak's new leader, she wanted to look and feel silly as little as possible.

She wore her golden hair braided tightly along her scalp, twisted into a tight, braided bun at the nape of her neck to keep it out of the way; she was dressed plainly in dark, stretchy pants and a light-colored t-shirt. Though it was slightly chilly this early in the morning in Leafchange, she knew she'd warm up quickly as she started to work, so she ignored the goosebumps on her arms and began to stretch.

Sohalia

Koa

Koa is home for the weekend, which means he is working. One of the newest initiatives he's helped spearhead is a community self-defense course taught by the Dragoons, with in-person training available one day a week. Each soldier takes a slot, and Koa has drawn a short straw: dawn shift. Naturally he stayed up too late the night before, and now as he makes his bleary way to the training grounds he finds he does not have time or energy to check the logs of who may have signed up for the first session of the day.

Fuck him, right?

It's brisk but not cold, and Koa is dressed to train: calf-length pants, no shirt, muscles clear in the morning light. Think Shang from Mulan, with slightly less hair. He's just wrapping his second hand when he finally looks up and spots her, and the jolt of recognition is like a physical blow, stopping him in his tracks. Panic flashes through copper eyes as he seriously considers making a run for it. He knew he'd run into her again - it was practically inevitable, after all - but he'd hoped that when the time came he would have some warning, be able to prepare.

Not be stuck with is dick hanging out, the embarrassing memory of their last encounter taunting him like a gnat.

Setting his chin and clenching his jaw, Koa continues his approach to Soh, his expression schooled to avoid reflecting just how fucking uncomfortable he is. It isn't fully successful, and when he finally stops and speaks aloud his voice is strangely stilted, a far cry from usual, easily playful tones. "Lady Luminary," Koa intones with comical formality, looking stubbornly over Soh's shoulder, refusing to make eye contact as his jaw clenches and his throat bobs. "Apologies, I didn't realize... that is, I can have a replacement scheduled. If it would be less, uh. Weird."

i can't decide if it's a choice, getting swept away

Seeing Koa again almost hurt worse than rejecting him, and she knew if she was hurting, then he had to be dying. She, after all, had been the one to break things off with him. She had someone that she could run home to. But Koa? She'd broken things off at the worst possible time, and so it was with a rather obvious flash of guilt that she looked up, a lightning stab of recognition and dread pitting in her stomach, to find that he was here to lead a training session.

The strange formality with which he addressed her brought a lump to her throat, and she found herself suddenly terribly sad but also perhaps a bit angry. Not at Koa, really, but at the situation - they could have been friends, if not for the situation in which they'd found themselves, and she mourned the loss of something that it seemed they'd never have - two somethings, if she counted their almost relationship.

And so it was with a mixture of sadness and hurt and anger that she shook her head. "That's alright," she said crisply, silver eyes betraying her flood of emotions despite her steady voice. "We're here now, and I'd hate to inconvenience anyone." Might as well get this over with.

Sohalia

Koa

Well, he tried to give her an out, tried to spare them both the awkwardness of what's about to come. But Soh is fearless and Koa is stubborn, his strong jaw set and bright eyes flashing as he resigns himself to this fate. "Very well," the boy concedes shortly, suddenly angry and not sure why.

"We're.... doing hand-to-hand self-defense today." Koa cringes, throat suddenly dry. Self defense means getting close, and all the memories of intimacy and the curve of her body rise in a cruel flush of his cheeks. He scowls, furious at his mind for betraying him, furious at her for putting them in this position,  furious in general because it's safer than being hurt.

He clears his throat, trying to keep the ache from his voice. "OK. First things first." Koa grabs the pads from his duffle and slips them onto his hands. It's strangely comforting, slipping into the comfortable armor of a professional soldier, shielding himself against the way her silver eyes make his heart ache. Immediately he feels safer, stronger, more prepared. They were on her turf last time, whsn she broke his heart.

But now, theyre on his.

When he turns back to Soh he's all professionalism and intensity, the pads held up at about her eye level. "Let's see what you've got. Hit me." He doesn't smile, not quite, but there's a flicker of old playfulness in his eyes, a friendly goading in the lift of his chin. You've already hurt me the worst way you can, it seems to say. So what do we have to lose?

i can't decide if it's a choice, getting swept away

Soh was not immune to the effect of a shirtless Koa, and she had to fight hard to keep her gaze from skimming over his torso appreciatively, her mind rather unhelpfully taking her back to their date in the Eye of the Storm. However much she loved Jude, she wasn't over Koa, either, and that knowledge had her mentally shaking herself. Get it together, Soh.

"That's fine," she said, leaving her weapons and approaching Koa with her jaw set and her eyes flashing, still not sure if she was sad or angry or something else entirely. Fortunately, she wasn't going to be completely out of her element: Jude had been teaching her some hand-to-hand, and she took up a position across from Koa, light on the balls of her feet, fists up in a 'ready' position.

And when he invited her to hit him, something goading in his copper eyes? Well, that was when she punched, light and quick and tight to her body, aiming for one of the pads he held.

Sohalia

Koa

It's easier to communicate through body language than words, especially when ones brain is an incoherent rush of hormones and desire and anger and pain. He tries not to see her as the beautiful girl who stole his heart and crushed in just as easily, he really does, but even the act of distancing himself is a reminder of what they cannot be. Normally Koa would be light and easy, throwing jokes as well as punches. Normally the blows wouldn't hurt his heart as well as his hands.

She's not bad. An eyebrow raises at the first punch, somewhat impressed by the force behind it, the skill in her stance. Someone who isn't him has clearly been teaching her how to use her body as a weapon, and Koa nods approval. "That's good - but here, keep your thumb like this." The pads are divested between his knees; he reaches for her hands without thinking, calloused fingers brushing over her small, soft ones with electric heat as he repositions them, changes the clench of her fist.

It hurts.

He looks down at her silver eyes, and then quickly away, dropping the fist like a hot coal and swiftly stepping back. "There," he murmurs to the ground, furious with the heat that colors his ears. "Try again, see how it feels with your thumb out." The pads go back onto sweaty palms, the hands are raised again. Fuck, he doesn't know how he'll get through this.

i can't decide if it's a choice, getting swept away

Her punch connected, and she was momentarily pleased with herself for having earned Koa's praise; but then she remembered everything that they were and would never be, and she simply nodded in thanks. He reached for her hands and the spark between them as he positioned her fist was undeniable, a painful reminder of what she had destroyed that left her own cheeks pink with heat. Gods, why did this have to be so hard? She'd made her decision, so why was it so difficult to stick with it?

Raising her fists again, she waited for Koa to hold up the pads, then huffed a breath of concentration. She could get through this. She would get through this. She just might not make it through entirely unscathed.

The feel of her fist with her thumb out was different, but Koa wasn't the first person to remind her of the proper punching form, and she concentrated on that rather than on him as she prepared to throw another punch: this time, a quick one-two before returning to her defensive stance. "It's better that way," she admitted. Then she paused, considering. "A real opponent would hit back," she pointed out. Maybe a spar would be a better idea than a lesson.

Sohalia

Koa

The one-two round hits hard and fast, better this time for her improved positioning. "Told ya," Koa says with half a grin, relaxing into the role of soldier, the ease of a thrown and countered punch. "Ok - this time, do it with your hand open, palm thrusting up at my chin. Like you really, really want to get me to shut my mouth." He demonstrates the move with one de-gloved hand. "It's a good way to gain leverage against a taller opponent, and can startle and hurt like a bitch."

He raises an eyebrow at the comment of a real opponent, amused but not surprised to find her eager to go further. Until she suddenly decides she wants to pursue something else, a very uncharitable voice in his mind states. "The goal of good self-defense is to avoid getting to the point where you're getting hit back," Koa points out, but gamely removes the other sparring glove, revealing wrapped hands. "Sure, though. We can practice real fighting."

He raises his fists to a defensive stance, jerking his chin to indicate that she should take the first blow.

i can't decide if it's a choice, getting swept away

Koa relaxed for a moment to give her half a grin, and Soh couldn't help but flash a smile in return before she remembered that she was supposed to be formal and distant and whatever the fuck. She nodded, shifting a little on the balls of her feet before testing out the move that Koa had recommended, opening her palm to thrust it towards his chin. "Like that?" But standing there that close, waiting for his constructive criticism and for him to further mold her body into shape was disconcerting and uncomfortable, and she dropped her hand and stepped back before he could answer.

Her suggestion to actually fight seemed well-received, and she hoped that it would be less awkward than this. And though she already knew that she couldn't win against a Dragoon, she was at least certain she could hold her own, even if only for a short time. "I thought good self-defense was preparing for the worst," she said, raising her own fists and taking a moment to consider her strategy. She was smaller and weaker than Koa, so she wasn't going to win in an all-out brawl, but if she could be quicker and more agile...

Taking a quick step to the right, she darted in with a punch aimed towards Koa's shoulder, hoping to draw him into a defense that would give her a better opening.

Sohalia

Koa

It's just as well she drops her hand, because otherwise Koa might have reached for it, running his own up her pale arm to sculpt her as an artist with clay, and that would have been bad for both of them. Instead he is left with kinetic energy and an acute absence, the void of her filled by wicked frustration at how awkward this all is.

Maybe it's good they'll have a chance to get some of the sexual tension out through physical means. "Honestly, the nest self defense is to throw your wallet and run," he answers blandly. "Especially if your opponent is armed, but you're not." But where's the fun in that?

Her punch is quick, but Koa still sees it coming - he's a trained boxer, after all. Still he lets her land the hit, explaining that "Sometimes it's safer to take a body hit and avoid opening up your vulnerabilities." He keeps his own hands raised, almost causal, his body clearly working from well-worn memory.

Then he darts out with his own one-two, first right and then left. He's hoping to feint, to have her protect her more vulnerable left side so he can then hit the right. The 'blow' will pause just at her cheek; and then, he's succeeded, end with a light tap, punctuated verbally by a playful "Boop."

i can't decide if it's a choice, getting swept away

"Throwing your wallet and running isn't always an option," she said, and the bitterness of her voice suggested that she spoke with some personal experience. Her mouth flattened into a thin line as she remembered having done just that, when she was attacked, and how little it had done for her. Sure, it might be the best option, but in a fight? She was going to assume the worst every time. "Sometimes things aren't that black and white." What are we talking about now, Soh?

Her punch landed, but it barely seemed to make a dent in Koa's defense, and Soh returned to her own defensive stance just in time for Koa's attack. His feint worked; she moved to block her left side but left her right open. The "blow" tapped her cheek lightly, and she scowled at him. She wasn't sure what it was that had her so irritated, but she almost wanted to goad him into really hitting her. Maybe she felt like she deserved it; maybe she just wanted him to see her as an equal again; maybe there was some other reason altogether that she couldn't put a name to (sexual tension, hi)... but that was insane. This was insane.

If she wasn't so angry, she'd laugh. But that was stupid. Why was she angry? She had no right to be, and yet...

She impatiently swatted his hand away, silver eyes snapping as she returned to her guard position. If he was willing to take a body hit, then maybe she should aim higher (or lower, but she didn't want to fight that dirty). So this time, she darted forward, aiming to force her way into his space, and aimed for her palm to his chin, as he'd demonstrated earlier.

Sohalia

Koa

"And sometimes they are." Like when you're stringing along two guys and decide to leave one brokenhearted, then declare yourself queen of everything and waltz into his training ground, pretty as a fucking picture and begging to be kissed.

Ok, maybe Koa is still a bit more hurt than he'd like to let on.

And it seems she's hurt, too, though why is beyond the young Dragoon. As far as he can tell he's the only victim here, and he's been a imperfect gentleman about the whole thing. It makes no sense for her to be angry, but then, hormones and youth and romance and heartbreak very rarely follow a logical course. But here she is, swatting him away like an annoying fly. He bites back a snarl, smile fading into a frustrated scowl. Fine, she wants to go? Let's go.

He moves a little too slowly to fully avoid the hit, but it doesn't matter in the end. Koa's goal isn't to get away from her, but to get toward her. Instead of blocking he reaches out to snatch at her hand as it grazes his chin, intending to use his greater bulk and height to spin her around and pin her against him.

He knows as he does it what a terrible idea it is, that it will kill him to feel her body on his, to smell the floral aroma of her hair can only end in heartache. He knows this, but he doesn't stop, blood pounding in his ears as he struggles to maintain his composure. "Ok, Luminary- your opponent got the better of you," is murmured, his voice huskier than he means it to, his head held studiously far as possible from the curve of her supple neck. "Now what?"

i can't decide if it's a choice, getting swept away

Thing were never black and white, and it was precisely that which made the Luminary so angry. He was acting like it had only hurt him when she'd broken it off, like she was just fine and dandy and life was all rainbows and butterflies, but damn if she didn't still think about him sometimes, wonder if she'd made the wrong decision, miss the feel of his strong arms around her and his lips on hers -

But right or wrong, she only had herself to blame.

She realized too late that she'd made a mistake, and as he spun her around and pinned her against him, Soh had to try very hard not to melt into the warm embrace. She swallowed hard, torn between her options. She could use her, shall we say, feminine wiles to lull him into a false sense of security, but that would be wrong, so wrong, unfair not only to Koa but to Jude. So she was left with but one option: to fight back.

Frustrated in more ways than one, Soh lost her temper. Three things happened in quick succession: she lifted her right foot and slammed it down hard, aiming for Koa's foot, simultaneously throwing her head back in an attempt to headbutt him in the face. Then she reached up, feeling cold and detached from her own body, aiming to find one of Koa's pinky fingers and bend it back against his wrist, hard. In the end, she halfway hoped that he'd be nursing a stubbed toe, a bloody nose, and a broken pinky, but she rather doubted that it would work out that way.

Sohalia

Koa

It doesn't work out quite dramatically as Soh might have hoped, but her counter is still effective. The heel that comes down on Koa's foot does the least damage of the three attacks: unsurprising, given that he's wearing his usual work boots. The headbutt does more, because while the height differential is enough to keep Koa's nose protected, the same cannot be said for the young man's chin. Soh's head slams back with wicked force, leaving a bright spot of pain in his jaw. It's not something he isn't used to, but it's still a surprise. He'd been intentionally trying not to hurt her, but it seems the Luminary has no such qualms.

Unsurprising, that dark, uncharitable part of him supposes.

He's already reeling when she grabs his finger, prompting him to drop her like a hot coal. Various forms of pain flash through his mind; in his surprise and anger, the young Dragoon briefly looses sight of where he is. And so he spins her away like a dancing partner, except with force instead of grace, and, caught in the mindset of a professional boxer rather than teacher, follows through as he's been trained: with a clean, sharp, unapolgetic punch aimed right at her face.

i can't decide if it's a choice, getting swept away