station72 | [closed]

Motivational Insults
[ It's not a secret that Annie has an awful, endless mouth. But did you know she can curse your mother in like six different languages? Pick an exercise and I will find something horrifyingly colorful for Annie to say while harassing someone undeserving. ]

Sparring !
[ Annie will do either empty hand stuff, or she's also decided she likes the heft of a pair of swords, their hilts chained together. She loves to fight, maybe her excitement is just infectious. Note: I like threading fights, but I am also more than happy to compress it down to a more summarized place. ]

Talking
[ Want to share your true thoughts and feelings about being harangued into training you may or may not want?! Go for it. ]

Anything else
[ Bring it, do it. I am here to tag with you. ]

Edited 2017-05-13 15:45 (UTC)

[Noctis might be a slightly awkward, aloof, and scruffy specimen, but he's overcome impressive challenges in his lifetime. He's fought gods, daemons, men. He's even defeated the Usurper with his own blade, high above the crumbling reaches of Insomnia. He's capable in a fight, clever enough too, and while there's always room to improve, he's generally confident in his skill.

But early mornings just drain all of the motivation out of him; it's difficult to tell if it's night or day on the station, but it doesn't matter. He's sleepy. This all looks like too much effort. Can't he just watch? That track looks really big and why on Eos would he want to run around the entire thing--]

I can't believe you woke me up for this. [He looks at Annie, trying to appear unimpressed. He has to avoid the temptation to rub at his eyes.] I thought we talked about fighting, not running.

[ She slaps him on the back, it would be more of a fortifying gesture if she hadn't hit quite so hard. She smiles up at him menacingly. ]

I didn't want you to miss out on any of the fun, buddy.

Ow, hey...

[Gods, it's like Gladio slapping him on the back. He looks at her, challenging her menacing look with his own brand of petulance.]

This is the opposite of fun. [This reminds him too much of being woken up in the morning and being forced to run along the beach at Galdin Quay.]

Come on, no running. Let's have a duel instead.

[come oooooon says the part of his brain that is obviously still a teenager]

There's an idea.

[ And she even feigns to contemplate it, although the great hateful expanse of her mind makes it entirely clear that nothing sympathetic is happening right now. ]

How about, if I beat the crap out of you... You get to run laps every morning without any bitching.

[ She flutters her eyelashes like she said something sweet. ]

[Yeah, that's definitely not sympathy. Something in him bristles at the challenge regardless.]

Sure. Okay.

[He sounds confident enough in his skill to decide that this isn't a terrible idea. Noctis summons his Engine Blade, and it appears with its usual magical fanfare, grasped in his hand.]

Deal.

[ She eyes him for a moment, contemplates his weapon of choice and his magic. She's already looked through the gear here, and she has an idea of what she wants. One might think, now lacking her powers, a ranged weapon would appeal to her. She no longer had the large shield of tentacles that used to keep her safe, but... She's not one to shy from being hit. She goes over to the cabinets of training gear, the arm guard she slides on is some basic carbon thing, lightweight but stiff. The pair of swords are not as heavy as she'd like them, but the chain strung between them is something she sees versatility in.

That's it though, that's the extent of her arming up. Otherwise she's in her usual clothes, most of her body unarmored. She has no fear about this. ]

We're done when somebody gives up.

[ And that's not going to be her. ]

[Noctis opts for nothing to guard him, either -- just his usual black clothing from home, which has already been through hell and back, so obviously another sparring match won't hurt. He waits for Annie to prep, and only when she's decided on her weapons does he shift into stance.]

By "somebody" you mean you.

[The anxious excitement of a fight always flips some tiny switch in him that amps up the confidence, intwined with the occasional snarky remark. This is the one thing that Noctis knows he's good at. He has too many years of training at his back, and too much lately that has coerced him into being better for the sake of everyone around him.

And while his magic may not be running at full capacity, that doesn't mean it won't be the first thing he relies on.

No preamble to their fight starting. Only Noctis, throwing his sword up into the air, then disappearing with a flash of blue to reappear above her head. He twists his body and grabs at the hilt of his blade, allowing gravity to careen him downwards, straight towards Annie. Might as well start off memorably.]

Edited (worrrrrrds) 2017-05-15 05:10 (UTC)

[ It's unlike them, to be quite so heated with each other. Even at their worst, when they first met and were irritable with one another, it was a low twang of sarcasm and sourness. Even when she teased him and threatened him, it was low key, lacking any real fire. But then again, this is their first time: weapons out heart rate up, against each other. She loves to fight, and from what she can tell by his thrum of adrenaline and cockiness... he doesn't mind it so much himself.

She smiles at him, a scythe of white teeth. At least he's serious.

He's not the first jumper she's ever fought in her life, she's even seen a couple variations of the power: astral walkers, phases, teleporters. It startles for perhaps a second, but the symbiote is a double edged sword now, for them both, she feels where he begins to take shape again and lets her body roll out of the way on a hair trigger of warning. She rolls up to one knee, raising the chain of her swords with a metallic snap, ready to block if he tries it again immediately. She doesn't normally like to play the defensive, but sometimes it was worth a few back and forths worth of circumspection to get the measure of someone's special ability. ]

Gee, that was close. C'mon then, kitten, give it to me.

[Holding back would be patronizing, insulting to Annie. Noctis knows this and has no intention of pulling his punches. There’s a trust inlaid in that decision, hinging on the fact that she can defend herself and fight back with equal fervor. Noctis is already grinning when his blade hits nothing more than the ground, the force jostling the bones in his arm. It'd be a giddying feeling if he allowed it to be.]

Tch.

[He straightens to his full height, then forces his face to feign indignation at the “kitten” remark. His mind betrays this farce by practically vibrating with electricity, shuddering with the Crystal’s magic. The adrenaline in his veins has already raised his heart rate, and the match has just barely started.]

Whatever you say.

[No warping this time, Noctis only rushes into what he knows is a defensive stance, a vertical swing downwards, straight into the chain. His strength is substantial for someone sporting such a skinny frame (blame his ten year nap on that), so he figures she’ll either stagger with the force, or be clever enough to use it against him.

It’s a gamble, but what’s the harm in testing the waters first?]

[ There are pros and cons to having her two swords connected. The chain limits her full scope of movement, but it adds an additional element that can be used with versatility, for someone with enough spacial awareness and forethought to make use of it. It forces her to keep her guard at her center, where she's used to it being, forces her to show some more defensive tact than she might have otherwise. Sometimes the tool dictates the technique.

He has more freedom with his swing, forces her to use her steps carefully, to plan ahead thoughtfully, watching the patterning of his movements. A swing, a swing, block, step, twist.

She abruptly twists, raising the carbon arm guard rather than her sword, the contact of it vibrates through her body, but she doesn't care, it disrupts the established flow and she uses the torque of her entire body to twist first on one direction, throwing off his momentum towards her, then twisting back in the other direction, the hilt of one sword aimed at the hip. ]

[His blade slams into the arm guard, but Annie repels his force right back him. Noctis has to throw a foot out behind him to catch himself so that he doesn’t fall over, and his sword swings upward with misplaced momentum. Instead of desperately gripping at its hilt, knuckles probably turning white, he just dismisses it in a flash of crystalline light. It’s easier to move, to dodge, when you’re not hefting a sword around, and his magic gives him this flexibility.

So, fists clenched, he twists his body away to avoid the hilt of Annie’s sword slamming into his hip. He barely manages to fight back the urge to phase through it, not wanting to showcase all of his tricks just yet. A moot point, maybe, when fighting against a broodmate, but at least it’ll keep things interesting for later.

If she wants to interrupt his flow, Noctis will at least make it challenging for her. In his other hand, flickering into existence, comes one half of the Swords of the Wanderer. Split from its twin, it functions not unlike a dagger, vaguely more suited for closer combat. His arm comes down, hooking over and pulling against the chain of her linked swords, yanking forward.]

[ It almost makes it easier, to have him pulling on her, it means she knows exactly where he is. Where they're connected has become the new center of gravity. She's in too close to simply cross cross over, tightening the chain around his weapon to then be twisted out of his hands. With that choice out of the way... What's she gonna do? Either let go with one hand, or do something that doesn't involve her hands at all. Both are still open in her mind as her knee jams up between them, a gut shot that morphs into a forward moving jump... She's just plain chosen to go where he leads and bum-rush him. ]

[He had hoped to knock her off balance, or maybe even disarm her if Annie's grip wasn't strong enough. But neither of these things happen, and instead Noctis is met with a knee to the stomach. How embarrassing for him.

The air knocked out of his lungs, he falls and lands on his back with a grunt. A curse escapes him, a hiss through his teeth, as his head makes contact with the ground with equal force. It would be more disorienting if it wasn't something he's experienced time and time again, and instead of instinctively slamming his eyes shut, he forces them open and alert. Still in possession of his weapon, Noctis tenses in anticipation of blocking, or rolling, or doing whatever's necessary to avoid what he's sure will be a follow-up attack in his prone state.]

[ She rolls to the side as they go down, because she sees not reason to take that thud to the mats with him. From knee up, she continues her forward direction, coming around behind him. It's temporary, he twists and rises to face her. She's pleased he's kept his wits about him after getting his skull rattled, idle checkboxes in her head of his habits and what she thinks about them.

Her chain gives a little clink, all the warning that comes before she's in on the attack. It's a long, relentless stream of movements, one sword after the other, that chain flicking around dangerously close to her own face as she goes, but... Well. It's not like it's a weapon she's never used before. You didn't get the luxury of just learning the things you liked and were good at, at Cartazonos. Sparrows had always demanded they be well-rounded little soldiers with minds filled to bursting and little hands that could make anything a weapon.

The roar Annie gives is all intimidation, and her own enjoyment, but for such a little woman it sure echoes in the training hall. ]

Edited 2017-05-16 20:24 (UTC)

[Ramuh’s beard, how does someone that small make such a big noise? It’s an idle wonder that doesn’t belong in the heat of battle, but it he humors it anyway, even as she practically embodies the image of a sword flurry. A small, raging storm aimed right at him.

For a moment everything is just a whirl of sharp edges and steel that moves too close to his face. Noctis remains on the defensive, bringing up the one blade to block, twisting his body to avoid the follow-up from her second sword. He’s frowning, stepping back, being pushed back — looking for an opening proves difficult against a faster opponent, and Annie definitely qualifies.

Noct decides that if he’s going on the defensive, he may as well do it properly. He steps back so much that he might as well have leapt, bending his knees and dismissing his weapon. In its place comes another large shimmer, a materialization of a greatshield that’s practically as tall as the young king. It’s weighty, silver, and adorned with a pattern that looks a bit art deco.

He rushes forward, shield-first, with a yell. His tactic isn’t elegant (he’s just planning on bulldozing her over), but he tries to keep the advantage on his side by continually making Annie think on her feet.]

[ Sometimes you just have to take a hit and you can't be scared of the pain. She'd put full commitment into waging war on him, and now that fucking shield is coming right at her. She doesn't get the chance to put a foot back and brace, she stumbles to the side, teeth grit against a grunt of discomfort. A twinge of anger to have gotten thumped like that, it motivates her.

The whole exchange is fair though. First time fighting someone, you don't know all their little tics and tactics for working their way around a difficult situation. Her eyes narrow at him as she resets. The facts of this match up are clockwork and cold. He can get rid of that shield as easily as he pulled it up, but he can also keep her at bay with it as long as he has it. She has to plan for both simultaneously. Options: get the thing out of his hands, get behind him quick enough to bash him in the back of the head, or knock him off his feet, making that shield more a liability than a guard.

The easiest option would be to get behind him and loop this chain around his neck... But like a bolt she realizes how much that would telegraph between them. She gives a rueful smile, and carries on thinking about it as she circles him. ]

[He's presented her with a problem, then. That much is obvious by the way they've settled into circling each other, assessing how and when to move next. He keeps his shield up, and it's enough to obscure the majority of his face and body, but Noctis' voice echoes from behind his new defensive position.

He sounds irritatingly amused, despite the tingling tension in his body, wrought from adrenaline.]

What's wrong?

[A flash of a grin, obvious through their link.]

Done already?

[Provoke her into acting first; it's easy enough to do, if all Noctis has to do is turtle up.]

[ Fair, fair, fair, what is she going to do just stay on the edges? Doesn't sound like her. She's going to have to do something a little off the books, a little wild to see if she can push his reaction off balance. That would be the best way to possibly sneak around that shield... She doesn't stop to think about it. She's not worried about him attacking her any faster than she can react, so when her hands lift like she might just try bringing them down on his shield... what she's actually doing is using the momentum of her entire body as she swings a leg around, chambers it back, and then kicks out from the hip with everyone she's got.

Which was a good amount before, she has a build like a gymnast, tiny but strong. But never anything more than human without her tentacles.

Until the metal under the heel of her boot collapses into an obvious dent. ]

Oh shit.

[ She actually stops to peer at it. ]

[The thunk might as well have reverberated through his bones. Noctis shudders with the force, grimacing against it, doubly so since he was expecting swords ricocheting off the surface of his shield — not the heel of Annie’s boot. A foot moves back to catch his balance, and from this side, it’s impossible not to notice the sizable dent suddenly poking through towards him.

The flow of the fight is definitely interrupted now, if only because Noctis suddenly feels like a child who’s just knocked over an expensive lamp. It’s his shield, of course — it’s a part of him, it’s an extension of himself and yet… it wasn’t always. He still feels some weird, unreasonable accountability for the state of all of the Royal Arms.]

…oh man.

[He actually lowers the shield a bit, while Annie peers at it.]

She’d be pissed.

[Who’s she? The Queen it belonged to before him, his ancestor, and though he’s certainly never met her, he’s pretty sure she’d be scary.]

[ She lets her swords slip from her hands, fingers curling around the chain instead, looking at that dent suspiciously, a hand on her hip. ]

How old is that thing...

[ Since when can she dent steel ok. She's good, but not that good. ]

Really old. A few hundred years, probably?

[He's not 100 percent certain, since he never took the time to memorize his way down the Lucis Caelum family tree. Frowning, he looks from the shield to Annie.]

You've been holding back. [If she has that kind of strength, then she could have overpowered him when they were clashing blades at the start.]

[ Maybe, slightly. But not a lot, like the normal amount you held back when you were trying to get the measure of someone that you knew you'd definitely have a rematch witch. ]

Not that much.

[ Knowing her own strength was very important, you made your choices based on what you could and could not accomplish... Not knowing where that line is... Exciting. But also irritating. ]

This thing has been hit by a behemoth and it's never dented.

[A flash of the creature in his head, for her benefit. Giant, all muscle and claws and fangs and rage. Purple-ish, too.]

Just another example of my power being kind of a joke here. [Especially if she had been holding back on him. Some "baby god" (as she would have put it) he is.]

[ She gives him a bitter, lop-sided grin, ]

You'll get used to it.

[ She stills remembers: waking up halfway across the world, powerless, small. ]

[closed]

Annie Stuff

talking (himself out of running) + sparring

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