War (warmongering) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2011-08-20 09:39:00 |
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Entry tags: | saint george, war |
WHO: War & George
WHEN: Thursday afternoon
WHERE: A boxing club in Brooklyn.
WHAT: Sparring
WARNINGS: Violence
After her last meeting in the flesh with George, War had had to skip town. To be honest, his refusal to fall so neatly into her hands upset her more than she wanted to admit to anyone and she'd needed the time away to cause a little pointless violence and get it out of her system.
But even though George had upset her, he was still her favourite Saint. He was an act of war himself no matter how much he claimed to have changed, and she knew that with her around she could encourage that more. He'd missed her if she wasn't there, she reasoned. He was connected to her.
So she made her way to the boxing club she'd given him the address of, her new body resting (in age and looks) somewhere between the two he'd seen her in most recently, her clothes dark and comfortable enough to fight in. She was late and so George, she saw, was already there. From the door she approached him. "Hey there, Georgie."
War was ready to pretend that their last meeting had never even happened. She wasn't going to mention the kiss or how he'd so rudely denied her. It had bruised her ego too badly.
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[info]the_lancer
2011-08-20 03:40 pm (local) (link) Track This
George had missed her, God help him. He'd missed her even though just being around her gave him a flash of some of the least pleasant times of his life. He'd missed her even though she was often violent and always unpredictable.
She was War, after all, and she'd been sunk into his bones for longer than he could remember.
"Hey, Red," he said, smiling and standing up. So far, she hadn't brought up the last time they'd met, and she was acting normal again. All good things. "I see you've got a new look."
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[info]warmongering
2011-08-21 03:44 am (local) (link) Track This
"Yeah, you like?" War asked, gesturing vaguely to herself in general. "Started at this new high school, so this works for me."
From her bag she pulled out two rolls of boxing handwrap, the both of them crimson red, and tossed one to George with a grin.
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[info]the_lancer
2011-08-21 11:04 am (local) (link) Track This
George caught the tape and felt appreciative of it. They were going to do this the civilized way, then. Or as civilized as punching people got, anyway. He wouldn't have put it past War to challenge him to a bareknuckle fight in an alley somewhere. And he'd have accepted, naturally.
"Are you, uh, feeling better? About everything?" he asked, a little hesitant. He wanted to wince, because wow, what a great way of phrasing 'How's the whole thing with kissing me and then punching me for it going?'
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[info]warmongering
2011-08-21 11:09 am (local) (link) Track This
War's gaze rose slowly to fall on him, the glare not even hiding itself. If he was going to keep bringing this up then she was going to have to break him extra. "Yeah," she told him dangerously. "But if you try kissing me again then this time you're gonna lose a limb."
Likely she'd try again. He was in her blood and she'd always be attracted to him. It offended her that George - her Saint - would go choose someone else over her after all they'd been through.
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[info]the_lancer
2011-08-21 11:46 am (local) (link) Track This
George was very tempted to point out that she'd been the one who kissed him, but that also seemed like a good way to get punched before anyone was wearing box gloves. So he just held up his partially wrapped hands and said, "Duly noted."
He finished wrapping his hands and slung his old, battered boxing gloves over his shoulders. "You ready to get your ass kicked?"