quietmounds | (no subject)

(no subject)

WHAT IN PERSON, YA FOOLS
WHERE anywhere
WHEN Day 8, evening

[ it's beginning to be summer -- or something like that, sort of. late spring? the weather has been warming up is the point and in the twilight of, well, now, the fireflies have also come out.

twinkling little stars that are actually bugs. Rather, slightly larger than the normal firefly -- in fact, perhaps they seem more like will o' the wisp sized.

But still, a lovely summer. If you follow one they may lead you (crashing into) the path of someone else.

Or the lake.

Definitely also the lake. ]

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[Pretty much every part of that is familiar, reminiscent of a wound that honestly is still too fucking raw for it already be inspiring nostalgia.

He holds up both of his hands and keeps a distance. He is actually totally armed, but he's not holding the gun, anyway.]

Looks pretty lively to me. Sorry, were you just sleeping?

Tch.

[ he scrubs at his face with the back of one hand, not really relaxing so much as. waking up more and with that comes the absolute confidence he could kick this guy's ass. ]

What if I was?

[That's cool. Orga doesn't look like a slouch but also like he doesn't have anything to prove.

He's used to guys who could total his ass, anyway, and there's no reason NOT to believe in that confidence at the moment.]

Why out here? I heard everyone gets a free place to stay in this sort of 'paradise'.

[ he stands up, then. ]

. . . got sleepy.

[ you know so he just laid down right here. ]

...hah. I guess there was no helping it, then.

[puts his hands in his pockets.]

Do you have a name?

Ayer. You?

[ he's not good at casual conversation but he at least. knows kind of how it goes. ]

Ayer, hmm...

[He seems to be making a point to remember it.]

You can call me Orga.

Have you been here a while?

Orga. [ it's like his equivalent of 'nice to meet you' and a small nod. then a shrug ] Long enough to see it's boring.

Ohh...? What does a guy like you think is interesting?

Someone strong.

[ to fight. ]

[Just sort of.

Laughs.

And keeps laughing, maybe a little bit too long.

It does not, at least, appear that he is laughing at Ayer.]

[ his hackles raise again. he's not so out of tune with people to not read that he knows he's being laughed at, but he doesn't know how to deal with it. he's too used to being taken not seriously at all, so he just falls back on that reaction. confrontation. ]

You worth it?

[When the laughter trickles off, Orga has press the bridge of his nose and wipe at his eyes just a bit. And comes up grinning, cocky and fearless.]

Why don't we find out?

[ immediately he falls into a fighting stance, more of a brawler than anything. ]

Don't cry if I beat the shit out of you.

If I do, you should feel proud. It would be a first.

[The crying, not the getting the shit beat out of him.

Moves to get into a stance as well, then pauses and looks down at his (new) clothing.]

Ah... sorry. One second.

[Starts to take off and carefully folds his only shirt that does not have bullet holes in it.]

[ he is a good boy, so he waits, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet. ]

C'mon.

[ his tone isn't impatient but the words are. ]

Yeah, yeah.

[Orga has a number of impressive looking scars and is pretty ripped so that is promising at least? He cracks his neck and his knuckles and then takes a slightly more guarded stance before gesturing for Ayer to come at him.]

Alright, let's see what you've got.

[ he barely looks Orga over -- just the brief moment to judge his stature and probable skill and strength -- and then lunges. It's a straight forward approach, way too telegraphed as he swings for Orga's face. ]

[Honestly, Orga was never a top tier fighter, and he's less so than he once was. Leading Tekkadan has left him a lot less time doing manual labor and a lot more spent behind desks. But it's... exciting. To have a simple straight forward punch thrown at him for the first time in a long time.

At least he can still read it, though he doesn't move as fast as he'd like. He just barely gets an arm up to block, returning with a punch full on at Ayer's face.

He isn't holding back, at least.]

[ he huffs -- almost a laugh, really -- and is delayed in dodging the return. in fact, orga's fist will probably clip his cheek, but judging from how fast he spins, pivoting on his heel to twist and send an elbow towards orga's gut, he could have easily dodged it. ]

[Oh, fast.

Orga doesn't dodge that all, he barely manages to upset his weight enough to let the strength of the blow carry him instead of absorbing all of it into his gut.

That might have been a laugh but it might have just been all of the air leaving his lungs. He stumbles backwards.]

[ there's no delay either, between that and the follow up. Another twist, and it's his fist, swinging to come and hit the same place where his elbow just previously sunk in. ]

Oi, oi.

[it doesn't sound very threatening, since it's more of a wheeze really. But he has the advantage of longer limbs and shoots the arm that isn't guarding his gut out to Ayer's face. Not a fist this time, but a palm going for his nose.]

[ his nose has probably been broken 500 times by now but he's not about to let that happen again, really. ]

Hmph. With that — [ it feels like Orga's palm connects with something, but it's definitely not a nose, and probably before he can really consider exactly what it connected with the counter comes. Two rapid blows, both aimed to snap up into Orga's jaw. ]

[What is that, that's interesting. Orga grabs at it, habitually, holds on tight, though only for an instant. Getting hit in the jaw knocks him off balance, sends his head spinning.

He hasn't been hit like that in a while. Probably he doesn't want his jaw broken again, that hurt like shit.

He stumbles back again, further this time, trying to put distance between them so he doesn't just get pounded flat.]