(Untitled)

[kieran_goodman]

Who: Dawson & Kieran
What: Sparring
When: January 22nd, 2 PM.
Where: Gym

The entire day she'd spent in this gym. First doing warm ups and her own training, and then she'd taken to training with others as Wyatt Cain had asked on the night of the ball. Kieran held back at first with those who she didn't expect to be strong, but was surprised when they

Comments

[thomas_dawson]

Dawson was careful to twist his grip slightly on the ends of the rods he was holding, trying to find the balance of the damned things before she whacked him over the head in his ignorance. He would not put it past her in the fucking slightest, not in the least. She raised an eyebrow, at his pain, and he desperately wished for a moment that he held the comfort of cold steel in his hands instead of the odd weight of the fighting sticks. Not that he would kill her, not fucking now anyway, maybe just wing her. A couple of times.

She blocked his attempts at hitting her, making him silently snarl, but swung again. Instead of trying high and low again, he tried a different tactic. Just landing blows, because that seemed not very likely that he would be able to get by her defenses, it would not be enough. She was faster, but he was stronger and had both weight and height on her. He should try to use that to his advantage, for once his eyes raking over her form was not because he was imagining her naked. Well, not entirely at least. There was some strategy in there as well.

Dawson put more force into his next strikes, using his superior strength to try to force her backwards. Leverage from his height was his friend. If he was going to get his ass handed to him, fuck, he might as well get some hits in himself.

[kieran_goodman]

So at least he was learning something or other, no matter how badly she'd kick his ass he was at least figuring out that his size might be of help. Perhaps not to this specific fight, but then again he was use to a gun in his hand and firing from several feet to hundreds of yards away, giving his opponent no chance to retaliate. Not the case here.

As he swung low she lowered herself nearly to the ground to avoid being hit, and took steps towards his side, her batons twirling in her hands as she moved towards him, going for his wrists. Just because he had no hope of winning here didn't mean she should go easy on him.

He'd never learn then, that he wasn't the best. Just like Zero never did, and probably never would. Dawson could very well learn to understand that just because he had a weapon didn't mean he was the victor.