trans_9 | Punching Bag Fun (Open)

Entry tags:

Punching Bag Fun (Open)

For the first couple of minutes that Jo was in the Sensoriums the scene before her kept flickering between that of a shooting range and that of a boxing gym. Finally it seemed as though it was decided that Jo needed a place like the gym and poof! There it was.

She hadn't been inside one of the Sensoriums for a while - mainly due to Security duty stuff - but seeing as she'd quit. she had way more time on her hands than she truly needed. The Sensoriums offered her a place to take her anger out. It was either here or taking it out on ~~Leon~~ some random crew member and risk getting beat up by tentacle of pain. So beating up something in the Sensoriums sounded like a much better idea.

Stepping inside, Jo headed straight over to one of the benches - which had a oh so convenient roll of tape sitting on it - and sat down. She took a deep breath, picked up the tape and began wrapping her knuckles. She knew she wouldn't actually be hurt, but while she was inside, she'd think there was pain... But maybe the pain would distract her from her anger... Then again, she was kinda liking the anger at the moment.

Rising to her feet, she rotated her neck, popping the bones in her neck and moved over to one of the punching bags. Positioning herself in a fighting stance, she glared at the punching bag and began jabbing at it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sparhawk was intending to use the sensoriums to try and get some more practise in using guns. There's only so much reading in the media library that he can do before his eyes start to cross. Unfortunately, the sensorium he chooses is otherwise occupied.

Sparhawk hovers in the doorway for a moment, watching. Yes, he should leave now, in case she decides to take her anger out on him, but he is a Knight, and Knights do not flee. And he does feel that she owes him an apology. He knows he isn't likely to get it, but who knows?

He clears his throat, striding forward into her line of sight. He doesn't quite know how to address her. First name seems improper, last name over-formal, and after her actions, she does not deserve the respect of 'Lady'.

Jo glanced over, frowning as she saw that it was Sparhawk standing there trying to get her attention. Turning back to the punching bag, she threw a couple more good swings at it before taking a step back.

Turning to face Sparhawk, she stretched her arms up over her head in order to keep them limber. She didn't know why he was there, what he wanted... But really? She wasn't exactly in the mood to get all chatty and stuff "You need something?"

"I was intending to use the Sensorium for my own practise," Sparhawk replies quietly. "I did not realise it was occupied, and thought that it would be ill mannered to just come and go, with no indication to you."

He notes the swing of the punching bag, and measures the distance between himself and Jo. "I will leave you to your own practise then, if you feel we do not need to discuss what happened."

"What's there to discuss?" Jo asked, a confused expression settling on her features. She rested her hands on her hips and stared at him.

"Seriously dude, you tossed me over your shoulder like a bag of potatoes! You're seriously lucky I didn't stomp you into the ground."

Sparhawk tries not to frown. "I gave you ample chance to leave on your own feet. I resorted to other methods because nothing I said to you was listened to."

He thought that she might be more reasonable after the fact. Looks like he was wrong.

"Would an explanation of my actions from my viewpoint serve?"

He doesn't comment on the stomping into the ground section.

"It's not like I was bleeding all over the place and dying. I would have survived. Dude, I was in the Army, seriously I would have been OK. Plus, I don't leave my guns behind - and you just didn't seem to get that."

She eyed him for a moment before nodding her head. "Sure, but if it's anything like: 'you're a woman and I thought you needed protection'? Don't even waste your time."

Sparhawk nods. "Our cultures are different, that is my reasoning. My training as Knight of the Church leads me to believe that women should be protected, although since boarding this vessel, I have tried to curb this instinct so as not to insult those I must work with."

He stares at her.

"My interference was as the Preceptor of the Pandion Order, and Prince Consort, a man with more experience in combat and leadership than many. The injured do not belong on the battlefield, unless there is no other choice. Your injury made you unfit for combat, and one of those we faced could have used your wound against you should you have entered the fray."

He steps closer to Jo now.

"You may have survived, but you were weakened, and could have become a liability to your team. I sought to remove you from the battle for your own safety, and the safety of others. Had a medic tended to you, I would not have stood in the way of your convictions."

This is probably the longest speech that he has made to anyone on Stacey yet. It's something that has been eating at him since the fight, and Jo, you're the lucky one that gets the full brunt of it.

"If your Army is similar to the armies of my world, this should have been obvious to you. Your judgment was impaired by the threat to the crew, and by the duties that had been given to you. I am sure that Sir Leon would not have begrudged you time to at least have your wound tended before entering the fray again. If he had, then he would be no fit commander. as to your weapons, why not leave them behind? They could have been recovered from the battlefield, as you could not. What am I 'not getting' about that."

He does his best to use Jo's intonation as he throws her own words back at her.

JO's lips press together and she glares at Sparhawk. She's not so much glaring at him because she's mad at him, more so because she's mad he kinda has a point.

Which sucks.

Seriously.

She frowns and looks away, her hands still on her hips. "Alright, so maybe I should have been smart enough to get off the field on my own," she admits - almost pouting as she does so. "BUT, dude, you just can't go hauling the women on this ship off the battlefield.... Unless they're really dying or something." OK, see? She added the something in there.

"And...I'm ~~kinds~~ sorry that I kicked up in the nuts. It wasn't cool."

Sparhawk just looks back at Jo. He deliberately keeps his face blank. If she is anything like Ehlana, she won't be too happy that Sparhawk has outmaneuvered her in this war of words.

And as she speaks, Sparhawk's suspicions are confirmed. "I am glad that you can see my point, Lady Jo," and see, you've got his respect again. "And I understand that I was out of line in being so forceful. I will try not to repeat the situation if it should happen again."

He offers her a bow as she apologises. "Certainly 'not cool'," he repeats. "Effective, but uncalled for."

"OK, first off, please drop the Lady stuff. Jo's just fine." It was a little too weird for her. She knew it was his culture and stuff, but still. No.

She shrugged her shoulders, "I guess, but you weren't in my position now were you?" She grinned, hopefully letting him know she wasn't completely serious.

"Jo," Sparhawk repeats. "While it feels to be lacking in respect to address you so informally given that we barely know each other, if such is your request..."

He lets his sentence trail off, giving Jo and opportunity to confirm or deny.

"Jo, by my reckoning, there are none aboard this ship who would be able to carry me like a sack of potatoes, was it?" There is the faintest hint of a grin back. "Except perhaps the Master Chief, should he be so inclined."

"Jo really works for me," she inisists. Seriously though... The thought of being called Lady Jo was a little disturbing.

Her brow arched and she laughed. "OK, I'll give you that, but I'm pretty sure I could knock you down and you wouldn't be getting up for a while."

"Jo," Sparhawk confirms, trying to tell himself that it wasn't weird. He's glad that he can make her laugh though.

"I do not mean to sound disbelieving of your claim, not so soon after regaining friendly terms, but what would lead you to believe you could do that?" He is honestly curious. If she can take down a Knight such as him, she must be a formidable warrior.

"Because I've done it before... Well back home, but I'm sure I could do it here if I needed to." She reached across, grabbed her elbow and pulled her arm back across her chest - keeping her muscles limber.

She eyed him silently for a moment. "Might not be able to haul you around but I could take you down." She proclaims.

Sparhawk is being rather careful here. He remembers well how Mirtai, the Atan warrior, mopped the floor with his closest friend, Kalten. Sparhawk has no wish to repeat the experience here.

"Would you consider it rude of me to ask for you to prove your words? While I well believe you are extremely capable, a demonstration might suffice to quell the nagging voice in the back of my head. "

He thinks he's phrased this diplomatically enough. He also hopes that Jo doesn't take advantage of his offer to take out some of her frustrations.

"No it wouldn't be rude... But you sure you want to? It could be a little embarrassing." Hey, she's figured if he wants a demonstration, he's also volunteered to be part of it... So she's giving him a chance to back out.

Sparhawk chuckles. "Jo, I've been embarrassed before, and I'm sure that I will be again. Show me."

He tries to remember the way that Mirtai stands, and the way that the Lady Kate was showing him. No need to make it too easy for Jo.

Jo's eyebrow both arch in amusement and she takes a few steps toward Sparhawk, her hands still resting on her hips. "Well, don't say I didn't warn you," she tells him.

She might might be small, Sparhawk, but Jo's feisty and being in the army helped too.

She suddenly reached out, grabbed him by his forearms and then BAM!! She's flipped him over and he's laid out flat on his stomach.

Jo then squats down and tilts her head a bit to the side so Sparhawk is able to see her better, "Want more?"

Sparhawk was expecting something. After all, he had been there when his wife's bodyguard had dumped his best friend flat on his back. But expecting something and actually having it happen to you, are completely different things.

"Oof," is about the only thing that the older knight can come out with as he lands on his stomach. The plantsuit squishes unpleasantly against him, and he's fairly sure that he's going to have a bruise where the hilt of his broadsword is jammed into his ribs.

"I think you've made your point," he replies dryly to Jo. "I will be careful not to ask for any more demonstrations."

"I did warn you," Jo pointed out as she pushed herself up but then leaned over a little bit to offer Sparhawk a hand to help him up.

"I did grow up with three older brothers, so I had to learn to hold my own at a really young age," she confides.

"Yes, you did," Sparhawk accepts the offered hand, strangely feeling a bit happier about the whole situation.

"Three brothers? And did they often give you reasons to have to hold your own?" Sparhawk asks. "Our own training is woefully lacking in hand to hand drills. Vanion more or less told me to fix that when we returned to Demos. That was before this detour."

"Nothing major, just picked on me a lot. But with older brothers, it's always smart to be able to hold your own. Never knew when it would come in handy," Jo shrugged.

"Well I guess I could help you out in that department if you'd like," Jo offers.

"I can understand that," Sparhawk almost smiles, and taps his nose. "Kalten broke this when we were both young and playing. He keeps telling me I should thank him for giving me such a distinctive look."

Notice the lack of formality, Jo. You've been upgraded to fellow warrior.

"I would be happy to be taught. Lady Kate has shown me some techniques, but I have been more concerned with learning to fire a gun, and hit what I'm wanting to."

"It won't be easy... You'll spend a lot of time on your backside," Jo warns, but is smiling because it actually sounds like fun. Well as much fun as one could have on the ship anyway.

"But really, hand to hand can be really important," And this is coming from Jo - lover of guns. "It's a lot easier to knock someone down in close range than it is to pull a gun sometimes."

"Training with the lance results in something similar," Sparhawk tells her, straight-faced. "And while I haven't been unhorsed in a number of years, I'm sure that it'll come back to me."

And Jo may have a slightly warped idea of fun.

"Normally I would rely on my sword for close range. I am finally starting to realise how limited I am."

"Don't think that way," Jo frowned. "Just think of it as... You need to expand your knowledge of fighting. That sounds a lot better."

Sparhawk is highly amused by that. "I know my limits, Jo. It's working out how to overcome them myself, or using the skills of my friends to watch my back. Besides, one of the virtues we are expected to cultivate as Knights is modesty."

He considers. "Here, my overconfidence might get my team killed. That will not happen."

Leon was there, sitting in a folding chair that was luckily out of arms reach of Jo. She was probably aware that he was there, even though he didn't interrupt her yet. Mostly just sat quietly critiquing her technique while she vented.

Deciding to take a short break from beating the punching bag, Jo steps back and looks over at Leon. She's known he was there for a while, but had decided to keep her attention focused on what she'd been doing.

"What do you want?" She asked as she sank down and stretched her legs out before her.

"To ask you a few questions." He leaned forward, resting an elbow across his knee. "For starters, when Sam had you at gunpoint, why didn't you either try to disarm him, or duck for cover?"

Jo narrowed her eyes and looked up, glaring openly at Leon. "Not that it's any of your business, but there weren't a lot of places to get cover from. Besides, I was told our main purpose was to protect the Yeerk. Which is what I was doing. Silly me for not realizing it was all a farce."

Leon didn't flinch under the glare. "You didn't think Sam was going to shoot you."

"True, but I thought a lot of things... And those turned out to be wrong too. So what's your point?" Jo snapped.

"I didn't think he was going to shoot you," he told her, honestly, but also evenly. "But I thought a lot of things, and some of those turned out to be wrong.

"You can be pissed at me for that, but I want you to know I never thought of your life-- or anyone's lives-- as a plaything, or a chess piece; something that I could toss aside cavalierly."

"Oh really?" Jo asked, her expression conveying her disbelief. "Then maybe you should start acting like it."

"I plan on it." He paused for a moment, as if he were deciding to stay or go, but remained put and asked her, "Out of curiosity, aside from 'not this', what did you expect when you volunteered to work for Security."

"To protect the people on the ship, not put them in danger," was her prompt reply.

"And what would you have done my place?"

"First of all I would have trusted you to know what was going on and actually have a choice in whether or not you wanted to be part of the whole thing. I wouldn't have only told you HALF of the plan." She eyes him before continuing on. "AND I would have have positioned a few snipers around the top of the building with tanquilizer guns. Maybe then some of the violence could have been avoided."

"We don't have tranq rounds. If we did, I would've used them, but all of our long distance ordinance is on the lethal end of things. Even the energy weapons." Hence, no sniper cover. He didn't want bodies on the floor.

"And who else would you have trusted, if you knew full well that someone on your team, though you couldn't peg who, was reporting everything right back to Sam?"

Jo just gives him a blank look, like she can't even believe that he could have ever questioned her loyalty. "I would have trusted you."

Her eyes narrow as she stares at him in suspicion. "It obviously didn't matter what I thought then, so why now?"

He gave her a look back, almost as if to say 'why?' At the end of the day, they barely knew each other. But that was part of the problem.

"Because I know what's coming down the pike for all of us soon. And I know it's going to be bad," he told her. His voice wasn't quite somber, but there was a certain quietly grim seriousness to it.

"We're all going to need each other..." And that meant that he needed her, just like she would need him.

"I know this crew can pull together in times of crisis, but if we wait until the next one hits to finally get our act together and stop acting like idiots, by then it might be too late. So... this is me, trying to get my act together, trying to do better next time than I did last time, trying to bridge the divides I helped make, and trying to stitch this crew back together piece by piece."

She's heard everything he's said, and she agrees with him. But she wants to make sure she has something correct first. "Is that your way of trying to apologize?"

There might have been a hint of a smile there. "Something like that."

"Well..." Jo started after a few moments of thoughtful silence. "I accept your apology, but if you ever put me in a position where I question myself and the love of my job? I will do a lot more than punch you in the face."

There was a short pause where he seemed to consider her for a moment. It was interesting that she'd take everything so deeply. He honestly hadn't expected that.

"Noted."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Punching Bag Fun (Open)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject