CLOSED | is there room in the band?

[poleaxed]

WHO: the tall one poleaxed and the big one armd
WHAT: girl on girl action
WHEN: nnnnow
WHERE: ye olde training yards
NOTES: the girls are fightingggggg

Over the, what's it been, a year? Fuck. Over the fucking year she's been here, Jone's approach to training has changed. Once, she thought it was about beating the right methods into people. Now it's kind of a game, seeing if someone can knock her over.

If anyone can do it, it's this kid. Jone looks her over and the word replacement sneaks through her. Always a new fucking crop. At least this one isn't a merc.

"Oi! Braids!"

Comments

[armd]

The nickname gets Jone both a raised brow and a huff of amusement. Abby's been fucking around in the training yard all morning with her shiny new toy, given ceremoniously to her by Tony: two brass knuckle dusters that wrap to the shape of her hands when she wears them, light both weight-wise and literally. She's already tried reading the runes that glow along the sides of them, and can't. That's something for her to research later. She's just as excited about that as she is at having the chance to test the dusters out on a person instead of a dummy.

"Stilts," she replies after she jogs over, greeting her accordingly, "Got fifteen minutes? I wanna see something." And she clicks the knuckle dusters together at her, which makes them spark.

[poleaxed]

Jone is impressed, both by the knuckledusters and how the girl reacts... positively. Most loathe the training yard, hate having to learn in public, or at all. Another point in her favor.

"Where under the Maker'd you get those?"

[armd]

What had Ellis called him? Right–

"The Provost. He wants them back, they're not for keeps." A hint of disappointment in the words there, "But he'd like them tested first. Apparently they can stun people, if you're game."

[poleaxed]

"'kinell, would you look at that." It's enough to make Jone put out her cigarette. "Alright, luv, let's see if you can land a hit on me."

She squares up, defensive, using her own bulk as a bullwark.

[armd]

Well, there you go.

Abby doesn't need to ask if she's being serious. She's got a familiar gleam in her eye as she slides into stance, and it makes her grin while she keeps light on her feet, assessing her height, her bulk, working out how to get around it.

Knocking her off balance seems like it could be easiest. She comes in hard, used to overpowering her opponents, swinging for her shoulder with the dusters. She's aiming for the connect. Provided she gets it, the zip of electricity won't hurt Jone, just numb her arm out for a moment or two.

[poleaxed]

The thing that people never expect about Jone's fighting style is how it's predicated on getting hit. It's something she'll explain to Abby later, or this will be cruel.

She takes the hit to her arm, and lets it flop uselessly to the side, while using their new close quarters to hit Abby hard in the gut.

[armd]

Abby pulls up on her strike, anticipating a block, but her knuckles connect with Jone's shoulder blade immediately and the arm goes slack with a weird, uncanny jolt. Abby felt the hum of electricity pass between them. It's a new enough sensation that she barely tenses her stomach in anticipation of the return, and the breath is ruthlessly punched out of her.

Fucking ouch.

Would have said that out loud but she doesn't have the air.

She drops like a stone, but uses that disadvantage to lash out at Jone's knee instead with her left fist balled up tight.

[poleaxed]

Jone manages to jump out of the way, feeling strangely flighty in the moment. "Cor! Like a viper, you are!"

Maker bless anyone who falls and thinks to kick, however.

"Shall you stand? Whip you to death, I could." She shuffles her shoulder, letting her dead arm waggle below like so much rope.

[armd]

"Gimme a minute-"

She's trying not to wheeze, but that was a solid hit. She waves Jone off, straightening after she's caught her breath.

"Can you use that?" The arm, limp at her side. The knuckles work.

[poleaxed]

Jone thinks about it. She takes the wrist of her dead arm in her hand, and holds it out so her elbow sticks forward. "Could be a proper jab, if I put enough strength behind it. All about using what you got, innit?"

[armd]

"Sure, but I was more looking for evidence that these things work as advertised." And they do: Jone's floppy arm is excellent testimony.

Abby looks pleased, glancing down at the knuckles. "Cool."

[poleaxed]

"And I'm one of the people who trains you lot," she says, letting her dead arm hang slack at her side. It'll come back or it won't. "Have to get creative sometimes. Oi, hit me here."

With her good hand, she motions to her gut. She wants to see what happens, if that short circuits her entirely. (She wants to see how hard Abby can hit.)

[armd]

Abby doesn't stop to say 'you sure?'; Jone doesn't strike her as somebody who would ask for that without meaning it, and she lowkey wants to get her back for that sucker punch earlier, so.

She charges the knuckles, lunges forward, and doesn't hold back a goddamn inch when she connects.