(ง •̀_•́)ง (ember_celica) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-09-18 13:44:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !partner thread, gale hawthorne, yang xiao long |
Who: Gale and Yang
What: Partner thread! Random Meetings at a fight club
When: recent
Where: Fite club
status: complete
Rating: PG-13
Yang leaned against the wall, watching one of the fights. She could pick apart a dozen mistakes the smaller man was making, and it only made her angry. She could beat him, right? She’d been working on strengthening her arm. She’d lost her dominant right hand (and her arm from just above the elbow) thanks to her dreams. If it wasn’t for her roommate she might have never left her room again.
She really ought to message that Max guy and find out how the thing with his hand went. She needed to learn to fight with or without a prosthetic, but she also kind of hoped her dreams would give her the kind of arm like General Ironwood had. The best technology the world of Remnant had to offer, and with built in versions of her weapon to boot.
But she could take these guys right? She pushed off from the wall and made her way to the promoter, hoping the sight of her tied up sleeve wouldn’t automatically disqualify her. “Hey. I want to fight.”
“Twenty bucks to enter, and ain’t no one gonna go easy on you.”
“Cool, just the way I like it.”
Fight clubs were a pretty common way to blow off steam - Gale knew of some former Army boxers who joined up, both here and the various places he’d been stationed, and he had to admit that he liked the freedom to it, the no-holds barred type of deal. Some underground rings even did some good. ‘Fight to the death’ wasn’t really his thing though (reminded him too much of the Hunger Games - he supported the ones that had doctors standing by) but not going easy on the participants? That was why they were here.
He also had to admit that he was intrigued by the girl who had obviously lost an arm. He’d seen Army vets out there with similar circumstances - the fact that she wanted to fight bolstered respect for her immediately. Making his way over, he aimed to get a better spot by the ring so he could watch her.
“Something tells me to bet on you,” he grinned a bit. “Not your first rodeo?”
Yang had that boastful kind of grin of someone who had definitely been in fights before and usually won them. She also had an unfair advantage but she wouldn’t actually use her Aura in this fight. It would normally prevent her from serious injury, and in her own unique case the more she got hit, the stronger she got. She’d figured out how to turn it off as she’d been dreaming. “Oh yeah, I live for a good fight!”
It also helped calm her nerves. This was the first time she’d done any kind of fighting since she’d dreamed about the loss of her arm.
“Well, best of luck,” Gale nodded. The other guy appeared to be cocky - maybe he’d won the last couple, but the odds probably weren’t in his favor now. For some reason, the soldier just had a feeling about the scrappy-looking blonde girl over here. “I’m Gale,” it was a little noisy in here, crowded, and he leaned in a little to be heard better. “What’s your name, live-for-a-good-fight?”
Besides that, clearly. It was his attempt at a joke - sometimes he could loosen up a little, especially in a place where no one really gave much of a shit about putting on airs.
“Yang Xiao Long.” She pushed her hair over her shoulder. It was long and a little bushy, and she gave him a wink, before stepping out into the ring.
“What’s this, you send a top-heavy cripple at me?” The man taunted her.
“At least I don’t look like a k-mart reject.” She lifted her arm, sliding into a wide stance and positioning her bad arm away from the man. Almost like she was worried about him going after it.
He attacked first, feigning to her left before aiming a kick towards her stump. She was expecting that and she had enough arm left to block the kick and followed through with a powerful left hook. He dodged it and she flipped head over tail away.
Damn. The opponent had always clearly underestimated the girl’s ability to flip around like a ninja - an impressive display of acrobatics too. Gale lifted an eyebrow, all as - how did the saying go? The crowd went wild. He joined in too, fingers in mouth to give an encouraging whistle.
“Doubt he’ll be able to catch her anyway,” came the derisive snort from him next, as he leaned against a post nearby with that good vantage point by the ring to observe the goings-on. People were crowded around him too, cheering on their favorite - which seemed to be the blonde with the one arm. She really was scrappy, and sunshiney. “He kind of moves like a slug.”
He really did move like a slug. Yang was acrobatic, though nowhere near the rest of her team in her dreams. She preferred to be the powerhouse, and she didn’t draw her punches. She got the man into a good position in front of her, planted her feet and punched him in the solar plexis. He shot back, landing hard on his back. “How’s that for top heavy!?”
At this point, Gale really did wish he’d put money on this fight - he knew he’d been correct to bet on the lady. “And down he goes,” he shook his head, observing as the mighty sequoia tree that was the big, lumbering man went flat on his back - probably knocked the wind out of him too, had to hurt.
It also especially had to hurt to get your ass kicked by someone you rudely called a cripple, but maybe he’d know better than to judge a book by its cover next time.
The girl seemed fun though. Maybe he knew her from somewhere? She also seemed familiar - he’d have to get a drink with her after this, or something. If she wanted to.
Yang hadn’t felt this good in months. She bounced on her heels and pumped her fist into the air. “Yeah! Yeah! I’m Supergirl! Kinda!”
She bounced over to Gale and gave him a big, cocky grin. “What did you think, want some tips? That was kinda easy. He was slow.”
He laughed, arms folded across his broad chest - the grin was pretty large on his face too. Maybe it was just seeing someone so happy with something simple. Yang probably needed the reassurance that she was still as much of an asskicker as she had been before whatever happened to her arm - and admittedly, Gale was curious, but he wouldn’t be nosy.
“That was great,” he complimented her. “I’m glad you shut him up. He had a mouth on him too.” Calling her names, freaking rude. “Not sure I could flip around like you did - bigger mass and all - but I’ll gladly take tips.”
She flexed for him. Yang could probably bench Gale without breaking a sweat, at least before she’d lost her arm. “Just gotta know your body. I’m still learning mine again. But you don’t have to be small and dainty to dodge things. Just use their momentum against them!”
And Gale wasn’t exactly small either, all 6’3 and solid, lean mass that he worked to maintain (no such thing as a fat soldier, not really) but he had a feeling that she could have bench-pressed him; it’d have made him laugh (while simultaneously being impressive, naturally).
“I don’t even know if I’d call you dainty,” he teased - small, but dainty inspired images of drinking from teacups with one pinkie up. “But it really is all about momentum. And knowing your body - most people would make a perverted remark there, probably.”
He didn’t though, most of the time humor was met with a stony face - Gale didn’t loosen up easily, but here, he could a little. Those gunmetal grey eyes squinted thoughtfully. “Weird question, but do you happen to surf on a special online forum about, uh, dreams?”
“Dainty would be a friend of mine.” Weiss was the very definition of dainty. Glass cannon too. She had a lot of power but got tired out quicker than anyone. Yang’s job was to make sure no one shattered that glass cannon. She gestured at herself and winked at him. “I can’t help what god gave me.”
The mention of a certain forum sobered her up a little bit and she looked at him warily. “...yeah? I might.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not out for blood or anything,” Gale assured. He could see why talk of Valarnet could make anyone apprehensive. It just kind of added credence to the theory that possibly Yang had a limb taken by what people would call ‘the dream phenomena.’ That pretty shitty phenomena. “You just seemed...familiar. I’m on there too. Stopped dreaming awhile ago, but,” he shrugged then. “I still literally have the scars to show for it.”
His shirt was just covering them, that was all - covering the ugly, cross-cross scars on his back from being publicly flogged.
“Me too.” She lifted her right shoulder, glancing down at where her arm should be. “It sucks, doesn’t it? Mine even started out nice. Be a huntress, protect the world, go on adventures with my sister and our friends. Fight these big monsters. We were like kids playing at war. And then the war actually came.”
She didn’t know what kind of dreams he had, but if he had scars, probably not good.
So here was another person who dreamed of war. They had more in common than Gale initially thought - here he just believed that she was a girl who enjoyed the thrill of a fight, but maybe there was more to it. “And war is ugly, nasty stuff,” he sighed, forgetting their surroundings for a moment. He wasn’t in a noisy underground fighting ring, but stuck in memories of the battlefield instead - here, in this life, the desert nights and then in Panem surging the Capitol. Dodging death traps, seizing the President’s mansion - the turning point, when it was all over. Gale in Panem had lost his humanity - he didn’t care about the Capitol civilians whose lives were irrevocably shaken, he just cared about doing everything possible to win that war.
They’d won though, the rebels did. Hunger Games done away with which is what they put their lives on the line for.
“It’s something you’ll always remember,” he added. “Definitely changes you. You want to go get a drink or something?” Was Yang even old enough to drink? If not, then there was probably a diner open somewhere. “We can compare war stories.”
Yang was old enough to have a fake ID, mostly to get her into places but she never turned down a strawberry sunrise. In her dreams the drinking age was like 16. That or Junior just didn’t card people. Her smile was suddenly a little less bright. “A drink sounds good, thanks.”
They wouldn’t go overboard, but something to take the edge off and wind down after a night of either punching people or watching, feeling the adrenaline of a good fight, would probably be just what the doctor ordered. Besides, Gale was kind of glad to have come across someone new, that he had things in common with - he was overall a private person, kind of surly, but even the rougher types needed friends.
“First one’s on me anyway, for kicking that guy’s ass,” he chuckled. “I know a good place.” A saloon, really, with a good beer selection and a mile-long whiskey list.
It’d be fun - not how he expected to spend the rest of the night, but fun. Even if a little soul-baring.