๐ก๐ช๐ ๐๐จ ๐ง๐ค๐๐ ๐ฌ๐๐ก๐ก (blueskies) wrote in nybynightic,
โAlright.โ Silas knew of a rundown boxing gym near the neighborhood, and he steered their walk towards it. She may not have anticipated the lesson would come so soon, but he figured now was as good a time as any. While being particularly specialized in reading body language, it was hard to ascertain whether the attack had rattled the kindred. While quite stunning and elegant she didnโt seem like a dainty flower. He gave her more credit using the wisdom of his unlife. His impression tied to something more akin to belladonna. A plant possessing remarkably tempting berries, but a sweet and lethal aftertaste. It might have seemed strange for Silas to deliver a remark between their similarities. He certainly didnโt give off the vibe of a horticultural fanatic. However, when you were a backup keyboardist in a punk band named Deadly nightshade, you ought to know the reference.
The criminally adept kindred kept a set of lockpicks in his boots, so breaking into the worn-out facility proved less than a challenge. He locked the door behind them of course to prevent any interruptions. The boxing ring at the far end of the large room, and illuminated by a pair of poorly maintained skylights. Even with a layer of dust and grim, the moonlight was able to provide enough light.
Silas climbed into the ring in a way that exposed a boyish enthusiasm, he wasnโt as opposed to indulging in a little playfulness despite the carefully constructed persona she had met earlier. He held the ropes and offered a hand for her to ascend. Impressed at how even as tightly packed as she was, she didnโt seem restricted by her adornments. Either way, an antagonist wasnโt going to wait for her to change into something with more movement. It was as unusual as expected going through the motions of explaining certain blocks and jabs. Silas acknowledged her nails as an excellent source of eye-gouging and even gave her a chance to practice a few strikes on him. The meat of the lesson was about redirecting the strength of others through quick-paced flourishes. In this way, she wouldnโt need the strength of a Brujah to take down a worthy opponent.
When he felt confident that she had the handful of maneuvers down, he pulled out his cellphone and opened a media app. There was no doubt she was perplexed by his behavior. Not that most of their shared night had been predictable. He expressed genuine regard for her safety, and so far, it had been rewarded with cooperation. Serving as a Hound in a domain was easier if the herd could defend themselves, so he was profiting from his instruction. He started a track with heavy beats and melodious vocals. It was something from the eighties new wave genre. Something mainstream enough that she would potentially find familiar, but also fitting Silasโ specific panache. The mentor launched into the position of attacker, purposely turning the lesson into a dance, something she was probably more familiar with. She was naturally graceful, so it worked to her advantage. He held back the power of his fisticuffs, but not the speed and unpredictability she was likely to encounter in an opponent. Was she going to be the best fighter, no, but maybe next time the stake wouldnโt get close enough to leave a sting as this previous encounter did?