two ☀ video / action

Spoken like someone who's used to winning. Are you that good, or that dirty a fighter?

I'm that good. Dirty's up for debate.

I bet.

Unnecessary bruises usually aren't my idea of a good time, but I'll come cheer you on, if anyone takes you up on the offer. And if not, you could always give me that engineering lesson you promised.

I've already got one person watching me, why not an audience? When I'm done and sufficiently bruised up, I can bury you in the engine if you like.

Figuratively, not literally, please. See you in a few. I'm looking forward to a good show.

[Learning to pilot the shuttles has been cake, more or less. Easier than a Quinjet, anyway, and it's a short time before the Caprine gets a docking request and there's one more curious redhead aboard, lounging in the cargo hold with curious eyes.]

[Mal watches Natasha quite curiously herself. She hasn't quite gotten a good read on the woman, who appears effortlessly, almost unfairly mysterious. As someone who's worked very hard to cultivate a similar image, Mal is impressed that Natasha's better at it than she is. Also a little frustrated. She enjoys understanding people, not being mystified by them.]

[Oh, well. Hopefully this experience will make things a little bit clearer.]

[The fights themselves are a mixed bag. Mal wins about two-thirds of them, but any experienced fighter will be able to tell that that's because of her natural advantages, speed and strength, rather than any skill or tactics used. The losses are when people discover that and figure out how to wipe the floor with her. Generally, she's about as pleased when she loses as when she wins.]

[Once the flow of sparring partners has come to a stop, she makes her way over to where Natasha's standing, looking a little worn out but excited, like a well-exercised dog.]

Well?

[To be fair, Natasha has had quite a few decades to work on that whole mysterious thing. Regardless of how long you practice, though, there's a certain element of natural talent, and she's gotten pretty good over the years at playing to her strengths.

She's had enough combat training and experience to know what she's looking at as she watches Mal fight, and enough time spent around people with superhuman capabilities to see that Mal's just a little faster, a little stronger, than a person her size should be. It's why she wins, and also why she loses--she relies on those natural abilities, and little in the way of tactical planning or skill, at least from what she sees. It's interesting. Also interesting that she seems to be just as delighted by winning as she is losing.]

[When Mal comes over, Natasha takes her time considering that one word and the variety of questions it asks, looking up slightly from her 5'3" vantage point and cocking her head to the side.]

You haven't had much formal hand-to-hand training, have you?

[Mal shakes her head, a little annoyed that that's the first thing Natasha zeroes in on. Then again, it's true, so she honestly can't get that irritated over it.]

Not much. I've had some, but we mostly faced off against people with far less training, and I really didn't need it.

[The Zlobenian military was almost as bad off as they were, and they never expected a vampire. It was really quite easy to beat them, most of the time.]

[Of course it's the first thing she focuses on. Out of all the fights she's watched, it's practically a neon sign blinking bright yellow over Mal's head. She telegraphs it all. It's not necessarily guaranteed to get her killed--at least not with the current Fleet status quo--but Natasha's always figured better prepared than dead.]

You seem to like fighting well enough. I'd have figured you'd be interested in learning how to get better at it. Can't always just run at someone and try to punch their teeth in.

[As entertaining as it had been to watch...]

[It's a philosophy Mal can get behind. Generally her 'prepared' has looked more like imitating humanity as successfully as possible (ie, not very), but this, this is a new and interesting way of approaching things.]

I want to get better. [It's an almost automatic response. She wants to get better at everything. She wants to be better at everything.]

Getting better is a lot of work. It's not just fighting, it's practicing until it's automatic. You were military, you know what drilling is like.

[She's really just assuming, given rank and the little Mal's said so far, but it's not a big leap to make.]

I can put in the work.

[Impatient she is, but Jackrum did break her down a little bit. She knows how to work now in a way she suspects few other vampires really comprehend, how to get dirty and stay dirty until something's mastered.]

[She talks a good game, anyway. Natasha eyes her unblinking for a moment longer, then shrugs minutely and walks out towards the open space of the cargo bay floor.]

Hit me.

[Seems easy enough, right?]

[It does seem very easy, which Mal finds extremely suspicious. She hesitates, eyes narrowed at where Natasha's standing, and considers backing out. Something's not right here.]

[But in the end, her ego can't take the prospect. So she shrugs, cracks her knuckles, and runs directly at Natasha, fist up, ready to hit.]

[Suspicion is good. Means she's not a lost cause, which to be fair, Natasha didn't think she would be. She's usually got a pretty good sense for that sort of thing.

Mal hesitates a little longer, long enough for Natasha to almost wonder if she's worried about hurting her, but then she's shrugging and coming at her and...Nat's just not there anymore, shifting her weight to the side and sending Mal past her with what seems like just a nudge to her shoulder. When she finishes the motion, she's turned to face Mal, weight resting easily on the balls of her feet.]

When you commit to a move like that, all you're doing is leaving yourself open. It's dangerous. Try again.

[She's attacking, and it's going fine, and then all of a sudden Natasha simply - isn't there any more. She's thrown a bit sideways and skids to a stop before she can fall, whipping her head around to watch Natasha come to a stop herself.]

[Leaving herself open. All right. She can fix that.]

[She comes at it slower this time, arms up to protect from potential blows but otherwise not giving away how or where she might strike. Once she gets within striking distance, she hits out with her right fist in a face, then her left.]

[Pretty quick recovery. That's good. Good reflexes. And she's at least a little trained, lifting her arms--elbows still out too far though, if Natasha weren't fighting clean she'd be able to get a good blow in to Mal's kidneys, break a few ribs maybe--and when she approaches again, it's with two very rapid punches. Most people she'd hit.

She does at least make contact this time. Natasha lifts her left arm to deflect that first blow upwards, turning at the waist to allow that left fist to brush past her, and moving to grab the wrist behind it. If she succeeds in grabbing it, and Mal doesn't manage to pull away in time, she's going to end up being tossed head over heels over Nat's hip, thanks to the force behind those blows.]

[Natasha is, in fact, completely successful in grabbing Mal's wrist and throwing her, just as Mal is congratulating herself on a good job well done. All of a sudden she finds herself hanging in midair and then slamming to the ground, all in an undignified pile of limbs.]

[She hops to her feet, fists up again reflexively, defensive and ready to strike back. If she had any blood to circulate, she'd be pink in the face.]

And what did I do wrong that time?

You let me get my hands on you.

[There's a hint of a smile on her lips as she watches Mal hop up, and there's a light in her green eyes as she rolls her shoulders in a small motion. She's eager. That's fun. Still willing to try, and more perplexed than pissed.]

The way you fight, you line up all your moves before you start, and anyone who knows what they're doing can call it before you even take your first swing. You need to be more flexible. Think while you're fighting, not just before.

You can try again, if you want. I'm not stopping you.

[Aside from in the obvious sense. Hey, maybe Mal will get lucky if she tries enough.]

[Think while you're fighting. Okay. She can do that. Theoretically.]

[She circles Natasha again, considering. Should she try again? Should she wait until another day? Really, there's no question. Once again, her pride stands in the way of her standing down. She's going to get this at least close to right if it's the last thing she does.]

[Which, to be fair, it might be.]

[This time, when she charges, it's not only quick but agile, dodging left, right, left again, her center of gravity low, knees bent and eyes narrowed. She doesn't strike out right away - just tries to get past Natasha without being thrown.]

[Mal is fast, she thinks, faster than she should be. Excellent agility, too, and for the first time Natasha finds herself wondering if she's enhanced, or possibly not human at all. Nat's got the benefit of years of combat reflexes, and even she's pressed to counter this time, eyes narrowing slightly as she focuses, shifts her weight, and...drops to the ground with one leg out to trip Mal. It's easily avoided, if she's paying attention, and the fact that Natasha doesn't try to grab her this time says something about that speed.]

[It's exhilirating, being able to put someone as good as Natasha on the defensive. She grins and skirts past her, barely hopping over her leg but managing to dodge just in time. She can't help a wild laugh, spinning on her heel and landing square on both feet.]

What next?

[Hey, at least she didn't feel the need to say What else have you got? She was really tempted to.]

[It's good that Mal is learning, not so good that she's cocky about it. That cockiness is going to get her killed, Natasha thinks, and she doesn't bother responding with qords. Instead, with a quick twist, a push of her hands, she's closing the yard between them on the floor and swiftly moving to tangle Mal's legs in an attempt to bring her to the floor. If she pulls it off, she looks at her opponent with arched eyebrows, green eyes irritated but amused. If not, she comes to her feet close enough to grab Mal, well inside her defense.]

Next, we teach you not to gloat while your opponent is still conscious.

[She does pull it off, easily, because Mal is focused on something else: herself. She hits the floor with a thump, all the air going out of her and leaving her in a surprised and somewhat pained pile. Her expression when she looks up at Natasha is vaguely sheepish.]

Only after they've gone to sleep, then. Understood.

[Getting up now. Ow.]

[Natasha lets her get to her feet, climbing back to her own easily enough, and she's looming thoughtfully at Mal.]

When you fight, you treat it like a game. You take your turn, then your opponent takes theirs. It's more like dancing. Or a conversation, if you don't dance. Things change. You have to adapt. Go with the flow of it, get a feel for what's coming next. I might be able to show you.

two ☀ video / action

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