faderift | (no subject)

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WHO: Krem and anyone that happens along.
WHAT: Krem is growing fidgety between missions and helping the repair effort, while Bull is out and about doing Important Inquisition Things
WHEN: Any time after the training ring is set up
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Nothing in particular except it's a Krem and he's making a little bit of a spectacle of himself.

If there was one thing Krem was good at, it was winding himself up. While he and the Chargers had their missions, more often than not, he was around Skyhold, and he could almost feel himself atrophying.

The training ring had been set up almost immediately by Commander Cullen's forces, but for the moment, it was empty. Off on assignment, or else occupied elsewhere, this meant that there wasn't much by way of distraction when the bored, slightly agitated Charger when he rounded the posts marking the border of it. He had stripped off his armor except for his leathers, mail, and chestplate, leaving his arms exposed to the air He had his maul in hands wrapped with soft leather, and he seemed to be doing warmup maneuvers with it.

Over time though, it got more complex. Strikes turned into flowing stances, booted feet ground into the dusty dirt and kicked it up when he turned in place. It was clear why Bull valued him as a fighter, with a weapon heavier than the average human could easily wield turned into a blur around him. This was why he was a front-line fighter, how he'd kept himself alive through skirmishes, and how he kept his skills sharp on and off the battlefield.

He was faintly shining with sweat when he came to a halt, slinging his weapon over his back, heading for a bucket filled with cool water and dipping a tin cup into it that was resting on the nearby stones. Part of it was splashed on his face and rubbed through his hair as he caught his breath.

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"Fereld- you think I was making fun of you with that pup thing?" Krem looks legitimately bewildered for a moment, then breaks into a massive grin. "Maker's taint, nothing of the sort. Sam, have you ever seen yourself when you get pouty? It's like someone took away a pet's favorite toy." He shakes his head and tucks his knife away, crossing his arms over his chestplate. "If I wanted to fuck with you for being Ferelden, you know I would come up with something better than 'kicked pup'."

Still, if Sam isn't going to take his word for it, there wasn't much he could do about it. He strides over to Sam, as if the match is over, but anyone that's trained with him knows that taking that offered hand won't end well.

Sam gives Krem a look. "Well you obviously aren't giving me a compliment." Alright, so maybe he wasn't making fun of him being Ferelden. He was still mocking him though. He thinks. It certainly didn't sound like Krem was telling him anything endearing.

"Have I looked- I don't exactly have a mirror, and if I did I certainly don't try out faces on myself." It's obvious that Sam bristles at that a bit, but isn't completely offended. At least not in a way that he feels he needs to be on guard - a verbal arguement perhaps.

With Krem putting away the dagger, starting up the chat, and approaching like he was walking up to a skittish animal, Sam seems to settle down a bit. He honestly sees this as the Charger trying to smooth ruffled feathers, and he crosses his arms, fully expecting them to talk.

If Krem is perfectly honest, he thinks Sam is actually rather ridiculous. But that's not such a bad thing. He's still moving around the ring at an easy stride, a bluff that only The Iron Bull could readily spot.

"You can just walk away if you're so miffed at me," he points out, looking up at Sam with an arched brow. "Unless you've made this a matter of pride."

Sam sighs at that, his shoulders slumping as the rest of his guard drops. "You'd have to do a bit better to get me miffed. The dog thing just gets old." Sam makes a face then and raises a brow at Krem. "Do I really look like a kicked puppy?"

Edited 2015-10-22 07:38 (UTC)

"You're giving me a look like you would rather hit me and get it over with then go about your day," Krem points out, then mirrors the face he's making right back at him. "So try it. C'mon, nothing to lose in smacking the smug look off my face." Said in something approaching Bull's tone the last time he'd heard the Chief say it.

"If you're trying to copy me that looks anything but smug." Did he look smug? He didn't feel smug.

Try it, he says. Sam narrows his eyes cautiously at Krem. That sounds a bit too easy. But the Charger is a bit right. He had been very excited about getting into the ring and learning some things, but instead he felt like he was just wasting the other man's time. He'd be better off making himself useful.

"Fine," he huffs as he starts to walk towards Krem.

"It was more of a general statement. Apparently my face looks smug more often than not. Yours looks mostly irritable." No thanks to Krem, obviously.

When Sam starts to move, Krem turns with him, facing him with his hands on his hips. Maybe he should have just gotten a sword; he isn't as practiced with one, bringing him a little closer to Sam's experience level.

"Use your reach to your advantage," Krem advises, starting to walk around Sam, as if pacing while giving a lecture. "You're bigger than I am, probably heavier. Throw it around a little."

His pace slows as he sees Krem change the direction he was walking, beginning to circle. Sam follows the movement, keeping the man in front of him the entire time, suddenly not trusting him to see his back. He tilts his head at the instructions.

Hand to hand?

Sam's brows raise in curiosity, the sudden change intriguing him. He stays quiet though, waiting to see if Krem says anything else. He doesn't, he's waiting for Sam to strike. Sam knows it.

Even knowing that though, when Sam sees the tiniest of changes in Krem's step he lunges forward, right arm arcing down at the other's face.

Safer than using swords, with as inexperienced with fighting as Sam seems to be, and it'll likely help him actually learn how to use his reach to his advantage. Mages didn't ordinarily have to worry about that, being able to attack from a distance, but when someone's mana runs out and they have to face men closing in? Better know how to kick your way out of it, so to speak.

Krem sidesteps the move and puts a hand up under Sam's armpit, twisting in place and socking his hip into Sam's then levering him up and over, putting him on the ground on his ass.

"Left yourself wide open," he explains, patting Sam's shoulder then offering a hand back up. "Try that again, comin' up from under. Better chance of hooking around the neck that way."

Honestly, he expected that he wouldn't be able to land the hit. What he didn't expect was when Krem grabbed his arm and he found himself airborne for a few moments. Hitting the ground was a normal thing for Sam, but it still smarted.

Sam gives a pained groan at being sent to his ass, his face scrunching a bit. "Uuugh, now that's a matter of pride," he mutters when Krem pats him on the shoulder. He was sure to feel that later.

Grabbing a hold of Krem's hand, Sam gets back to his feet. Again, huh? Stepping back he falls back into a stance. Even if Krem said he had reach and weight on his side, the Charger had the experience and being a bit shorter made it easier to dodge his attacks.

Sam waits longer this time, a plan forming in his head. This time when he attacks he takes Krem's suggestion and going attack from below. He can see Krem moving and going for a counter when his punch misses, briefly grazing a shoulder. Rather than getting caught and being thrown again though, Sam slips back into a Fade step. Instead of running this time, like the previous times, Sam takes the chance to reappear behind Krem and hook his arm around his neck.

Now that was what Krem likes to see; Sam was getting serious, and creative on top of what he'd already instructed. He's proud even as his back was forced to arch and stretch by Sam standing with an arm around his neck.

"Good," he grunts, then swings his legs back, before flexing his core hard and bringing his legs up, making Sam so top-heavy that there really isn't any recourse but to fall back again. Krem's boots hit the dirt right behind him, and he brings a knee up into the back of Sam's thigh, dead-legging him to bring him to his knees. "Not bad for a mage by any means." He leans over Sam's shoulder, patting his chest with a cheeky little smile then moving around him and offering a hand up. He was done being a little shit for now, at least.

Sam tries his best not to smile, but at hearing Krem say 'good' he feels that he's at least done something right. Which lasted all but less than ten seconds before Krem did something, and was rolling over Sam's head, only to land on his feet behind him.

Finding himself back on the ground isn't much of a surprise, but how he got there was still making his mind reel. He had already been hugely impressed with everything Krem did, and this was just making it all the more obvious how skilled the warrior was.

The pat on the chest, and the compliment catches Sam off guard though - at least he thinks it's a compliment, it didn't sound condescending. He actually finds his cheeks a bit warm at that, which he chalks up to being from the physical exertion.

Sam blinks at the hand being offered and once again he takes it so he can get to his feet. "How did you do that?"

Krem takes a moment to brush some of the dust off of Sam, then gestures back to the edge of the ring where the water bucket was still resting.

"Momentum and core strength," he answers simply. "We have to be able to get out of situations quickly, and holds like that, people tend to try them more often than not, especially when they've flanked us. It's not a bad move, but they underestimate who they're dealing with. Usually the ones that do that get their throats cut." He kneels and fills his cup with water, then hands it off to Sam. "How's your leg?"

Sam raises a brow at Krem as he assists him in dusting him off, then gives a shrug when the man starts heading over to the edge of the ring. He's fully intent on following behind, but as soon as he puts weight on his right leg Sam finds himself crumbling towards the ground suddenly. Thankfully, he catches himself with his other leg, giving a light hiss in pain.

He's not particularly listening to Krem as he walks off, currently a bit more focused on working out the pain he's suddenly in. His leg is numb and there's a painful tingling sensation traveling up and down his nerves. The feeling doesn't go away quickly either, which is even more bothersome.

When Krem turns around with his arm out with a cup - did he say something about leg? - Sam simply just looks at the Charger from where he's standing; he hasn't moved. The look isn't angry, but with the slight wince accompanying it, it is obvious that the Mage isn't happy either. He crosses his arms, still keeping the weight off the leg. "I'm sorry, I missed all that. I'd love to hear it, but perhaps you can explain that other thing you did to me."

Edited 2015-10-25 01:04 (UTC)

Krem knows he shouldn't find this funny, but he can't help the snort as he goes over to Sam to offer an arm to keep him standing upright.

"Best way to hobble someone without doing permanent damage," he explains, holding the water up with the other hand. "Kills the muscle for a time, makes sure you can't be chased. Come on, we'll find you a place to sit 'til it wears off."

Well it looked like Krem was enjoying himself. Despite being a little annoyed, Sam cannot help the small smile starting to tug at the corners of his mouth, choosing to look away a bit so Krem cannot see it. At seeing something being offer through the corner of his eye, Sam eventually looks back. He tentatively takes the mug. "Or harder for someone to run away if you're going to chase them down..." he mutters against the lip of the mug before taking a drink.

Sitting down sounds good. It would be a lot easier for him to take a look at his leg when he wasn't in danger of falling flat on his face. Though trying to hobble his way to the edge of the ring doesn't sound all that fun.

Drinking about half the cup, Sam then pours some over his head so that it would be easier to keep his hair out of his face. Followed by pouring the rest over Krem's head with a grin. It was all in good fun, and he needed to get the Charger back in some way.

"That too," Krem confirms with a quiet chuckle at Sam's muttering. He wraps an arm around the other man's back, starting to urge him toward the edge of the ring, letting most of his weight be supported easily, right up until his hair is suddenly dripping, and he has to parse the fact that Sam had just dumped a cup of water over his head. There aren't quite words that can express how he feels about that.

Eventually he just laughs, shaking his head hard enough for the droplets to fly off, hair falling over his brow as he reaches up and shoves on Sam's face lightly. "I know I deserved that but really?"

Sam cannot help but snort in amusement as a hand comes up and presses into his face. "Lieutenant, you should really watch where you put your hands. It is not above me to lick it if it is not removed soon." He'll do it. Sam isn't above pulling childish pranks and maneuvers if he has to.

"Yeah, really. I think it's fair considering how many times you got me on my ass or knees."

"You do that and I take no responsibility for just how much spit gets rubbed on your face," Krem replies, wrinkling his nose as he steers Sam to the fencing around the ring. He does wipe some of the water off his own face and pats Sam's cheek with the damp hand. "Anyone else hears you saying that they'll start thinking I'm doing more than just beating on you," he points out, giving Sam a toothy grin.

Sam chuckles, allowing Krem to help him to the fence. He does raise his brow at the Charger patting his cheek with a wet hand, mostly because it doesn't do much since he had water on his head as well.

Once they reach the fence, Sam gives a sigh and eases himself to sit on the top of it. Eventually he'll have to get himself to the ground to look at his leg easier, but at least he can relax just a bit without falling over.

He has to think for a moment at what Krem is referring to, but once he gets it he grins. "Ah, well. That's a very attractive set of images there. Bit of a sadist, huh?"

"Just rub the spot, try not to move much, it'll go away. Probably ache like a bitch for a little while, but that's about all," Krem says and leans on the fence beside him, nudging the uninjured leg. He wrinkles his nose at the joking, shaking his head. "You're the one that said it first, I'm holding you entirely responsible."

"Take responsibility for you making dirty suggestions? I think I can shoulder that." He nudges Krem right back, but with his arm, chuckling a bit as he does so.

It's not the worst pain he's been in, but it certainly uncomfortable, every once in a while hissing out slowly when it flairs up if he moves just a bit. "Maybe next time if you're going to show me hand-to-hand, you could teach me first. As fun as having you beat me silly... I'd like to know how not to let that happen."

"You're the one going on about being put on your knees. Should've put you flat on your face," Krem snorted, then nodded. "This was good for showing how much you know as far as physical combat goes though. Tells what needs more work right off. The magic, 's good for evasion, just need to be able to do something besides ducking away from things and when your mana's out, next best thing's your staff, or your fists."

Sam just continues to grin, and lets it drop there. He'd rather not make it awkward or weird, not with finally getting Krem to open up to him a bit. He feels tingly by that, and it's not the numbness in his leg.

"I could have told you I sucked majorly at using my fists. Wrestling? I can handle that. Knowing how to use my weight in a punch? Not so much." Sam chuckles then winces when he tries to straighten out his leg; still a ways to go. "Having a staff would have been a lot better honestly. I know how to fight with that, and yes I mean without magic. And I'll have to admit my magic was a bit lackluster in there. Setting you on fire did not sound appealing."

"I would rather avoid being set on fire, if it's all the same to you," Krem snorts, wrinkling his nose some at the idea. "There's a different between swinging your fist, and swinging your entire arm into a punch. I can show you the difference when you're not in as much pain," he offers with a grin, though whether that difference would be demonstrated on Sam himself remained to be seen.