overjoyed_logs | rain down down down

Entry tags:

rain down down down

Who: giorno and hanna
Where: hanna's ship
When: pre-cr shenanigans
Summary: training log!
Restrictions/Warnings: some violence, hanna

[ when she'd told him that he was terrible at fighting, he didn't bother to lie, because the truth was that he really was terrible at it. street-fighting in westerly is something else, of course, and giorno's done a fair bit of it in order to save dio's unruly ass or just survive, in general, for himself; but now that he's committed to moving up the ranks to become a killjoy, being able to fight to survive is simply not enough. to people for whom fighting has always been second nature, fighting to survive becomes child's play against someone who's honed their abilities for something more than day-to-day survival.

he's not expecting her to go easy on him, of course. truth be told, he's more concerned about being able to hold his own and maintain this arrangement.

it's day 2 of their training. giorno's sustained a fair bit of bruises from the previous day, and he aches everywhere. all the same: it's not entirely an unfamiliar ache, and if anything else, at least he's doing this to get stronger. he shows up promptly to their training room once more, braiding his hair tightly before we begin.

ever so polite, he greets her as soon as she comes in. ]

Good morning.

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[Hanna has her own fair share of bruises, honestly. He's a scrapper, to be sure, but that's going to get him nowhere but his bones broken on the best of days.

Normally, she wouldn't have done this. She would've cut and run, told the kid to fuck off and find someone else but... something was there. The little she had left of her sanity, humanity, tugged at her. Amelie hadn't been much older than him.

Amelie got a bullet to the heart, years just shy of Giorno's own age. And it hurt. Hurt to remember that she wasn't able to do anything, that she narrowly survived the massacre.

She hated that she couldn't cut out the piece of herself that gave a real shit. Ironically, it was the fact that she gave too much of a shit that's gotten her this far and this deep into her rage.

The black tank top reveals the eagle wings tattooed on her back, spanning onto her shoulders, to her elbows, the constellations inked onto her chest, the wavebands on her forearms. The black spade on her left wrist, by now, has faded to a dark gray. Her hair is done up in a messy french braid, hiding, for the most part, the tattooed noose coming out of the back of her neck.]

Morning.

[Hanna doesn't seem punctual, but for some things, she is. Military training kicked in, had her ready for the sparring session despite her very mild hangover.]

You able to sleep or you need pain pills?

I'll be fine.

Did you sleep well?

[ giorno says it easily, because it's true. his shithead of a father has hit him worse, and on his particularly morbid days he likes to joke that he's been made stronger thanks to how familiar he's been with his fists and his temperament.

giorno does a bit of stretching, watching her perpetually pinched face. he wonders if that was hanna just her usual taciturn self, or that was from the alcohol, or something else. likely all of the above, and he wishes there is a method of breaking things down into kinder, smaller bits for her to move through every day, but that's not the kind of thing you say out loud. ]

[It's the same sort of dark humor she has, the kind that makes people uncomfortable, the kind that makes people question her.

But if she had been there, she knows full well she probably would've beat the shit out of his father, possibly killed him. No mercy.

No kindness, either. Kindness left long ago. It took courage, they said, to remain kind in a cruel world.

She was a coward, through and through. She used to run, and now she feeds the beast.]

Like the dead.

[Shoulders roll. Neck pops.]

Start your warm up. We'll be working hand to hand combat still before we move into weapons, probably for a while or until I feel like it.

They say the dead are the only ones who've seen the end of war.

[ they say. he's read it somewhere, he can't remember anymore. does it matter?

he does as she tells him, however. he starts his warm ups, his movements easy and fluid as he goes through the motions. when he's done, he walks back to the middle of the room feeling limber. and then he gets into a relaxed stance, ready to fight. ]

Shall we?

[Can't wait to get there, she nearly says.

She too warms up, stretches out, tries to focus the rage through the slight headache. After several minutes worth of stretches, she meets him in the center.]

Player's choice.

[Hanna has no particular stance, but she's ready. Giorno can take the first hit.

If he can land a hit.]

[ and you tell me you're unkind, thinks giorno at her words, though he smiles at her graciously in reply. it is an awkward trait for someone born in such a rough place as westerly, all jagged edges and gates marked with company dogs and such, but he finds it soothing to hold on to such things, anyway. grace, litheness, a quiet mask, they all have their own uses. in his younger years silence was how he got away from his father's hand. now that he's learning how to get stronger - slowly, step by step - he finds that there are uses in it.

giorno moves towards her, light on his heels, shoulders raised, his body turned slightly on the side as he delivers a kick to her chest. ]

[She brings her arms up to protect her chest. Fast, would've knocked the wind out of her if she hadn't managed the block. Even then, she's going to be in a bit of pain.

Hanna rushes, with a full-on shoulder attack, aimed to knock him down, or at least knock him back a bit. Giorno's all grace and lightness, where Hanna's deliberate, a pure powerhouse and a grappler.]

[ he's learned a while ago that stopping someone coming to him in full force will end badly for him; he doesn't exactly have the strength or the build to not topple over. after a few lessons, there is nothing easier than falling, and so - he grabs onto her, letting her weight drop them both, and will probably move onto a chokehold should he get the opportunity for it. ]

[If she weren't trying to scrap her way out of his chokehold, she'd be impressed.

No weapons? Sure.

No one said about not using powers.

She focuses on herself, wills her body heat to flare and spike to levels of discomfort. It never bothered her, and, truth be told, she doesn't even know what an actual burn feels like. The only burns she's ever had are from metal contact. Even then? It's not as bad as non mods.]

[ unfair, but he knows better than to complain. giorno holds on to her for as long as he can, until he is forced to release her given how unbearable the heat was. putting distance between the two of them, giorno rubs his arms where he'd taken the brunt of the heat, shaking his head. ]

Aren't you a difficult one.

That's a nice way of putting I'm a pain in the ass.

[The exertion of effort left her slightly tired. Not enough to keep her down, though. She takes the moment to breathe, focus again, forcing her body heat to drop back to usual temperatures.]

Most people out there aren't modded like me, but you'll be ready to take 'em down if they show up.

[ interesting, that there is some time between heating and settling down to a regular temperature, that it's not instantaneous. giorno thinks that with regards to modded figures, a little bit more creativity is necessary considering how durable they can be in a fight. (technically, he also counts given the nanites in his blood, but because his are so specific, he more or less passes over the abilities without a thought.) ]

It'd be convenient, then, to look at ways to incapacitate modded fighters much more quickly. [ a tilt of the head as he considers it. ] With two people dealing with a target like that, it's not so bad, but if you're not up for fighting, then it becomes a problem.

Anyway. Onwards. [ another round, then. ]

[She could list off her weaknesses, one by one, if only because she was trained against them in so many different ways.

Wielding fire just gave her more of an edge than most, keeping people at bay. It was the ones with passive abilities she gave pause. Those were the hardest to read, to understand, because unlike her, their downfalls are far more subtle.

Hanna settles back into a stance, arms up, knees bent just so. Two steps, a quick rush, and she's aiming a fist to his face.]

[ he moves to put up his arms in defense, and then gets out of her range. he darts back in to kick her on her knees. dodging, darting, and then attacking - only whenever he can. he doesn't charge but moves in and out wherever he can, taking advantage of their space. ]

[Again, the speed. She's quick to dodge, but not quick enough to avoid every single hit.

One blow connects hard, sends her staggering backwards and throwing off her balance.

If only she had her exoskeleton...

Planting her feet, focusing on Giorno... she challenges him with nothing but a smirk. Close, but not quite out of the game, kid.]

[ dangerous. and yet it's not like he can back down now, otherwise there's no point to this entire exercise. giorno moves even as she is just attempting to regain her composure once more, this time aiming to punch her on the side. ]

[There's too much she learned in her time as a proper soldier.

The pain shoots through her body on contact. A few moments is what it takes for her to dispel the pain, to ignore it, to disassociate. The pain is outside of her.

There is only the body, the way it moves forward, and the elbow that shoots out, aiming for the side of his face.]

[ that hurt. he can feel the impact shake his head and for a moment, giorno is disoriented from the hit, accidentally biting on the side of his cheek and tasting blood. not the first time; better move on. he lowers himself down the ground and aims to tackle her from the side. ]

[She doesn't actually try to stop the attack. The weight and the bum rush takes her down hard.]

You skinny piece of shit.

[Her hand reaches out to his head...

And she musses it.]

I swear, when you get muscles, you're gonna scare the shit out of people.

[ oof. that means giorno just tumbles with her down the ground, and then one minute later he's pushing her hand away in childish annoyance, taking pains to fix the out-of-place rose curls over his forehead. ]

Don't do that!

And I have muscles. They're just .... there. [ he gestures uselessly at his arm. he sits cross legged before her, tucking a strand of golden hair to the side with one of his many bobby pins. ] I'm a growing boy, you know.

Lighten up, kid.

[Still, she has a fondness for this miniature grump. He's really not wrong.

It's just fun to give him a hard time.

She leans back and bears her weight on her hands and arms. A stray piece of hair is blown away with a short puff of air.]

Least you got style already.

I need to compensate for lack of wealth. Looking pretty is as good of a weapon as anything else.

[ giorno slumps onto the ground with a sigh. ]

You know no one cares if you're broke or rich in the RAC, right? [Well, maybe not true, but once you get a rep, it's the damage that does the talking.] Though I guess there's something to be said about being pretty and deadly.

I am as beautiful as the goddess of Love.

[ this is the only thing that matters. ]

Edited 2017-03-03 23:12 (UTC)

Well thank fuck they didn't call me Haphaestus, because shit would've gotten weird.

[She remembers how they called her Haphaestus sometimes, other times Prometheus.

They decided she was too much of a rebel to be proper God.]

Edited 2017-03-04 06:52 (UTC)

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rain down down down

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one eternity later

one eternity later!!! i got way too busy this week im gomen ;~;

LOL ur good fam

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