Dance Like A Butterfly


brian_icon.gif samara2_icon.gif

Scene Title Dance Like a Butterfly
Synopsis Sting Like a Bee
Date December 20, 2010


Pink hues dance in the distance as the sun makes its triumphant return once again to say hiii to New York City. And the city that never sleeps but has an inconvenient curfew says hiii right back. The morning isn't bitterly cold, but it is brisk. The sun already working on warming the city quickly. It's sunny, but still early yet. And so there is frost lining the metal and doors, still some flakes of snow here and there.

So the fact that Brian has his shirt off is puzzling. But he does have a rule about not having his shirt on at home. And this is still technically home. Kind of. The roof of the Confucius Plaza has a mattress laid out on the frost, a few bottles of water lined up next to it.

Dancing in place, Brian brings up his hand to pet the scruff at his cheek. Bringing back his hand he smirks a little bit at the red liquid he finds on his lip. Opening his mouth to reveal his bloody smile he lets out a little laugh. "That was good." Turning he goes to spit a mouthful of blood out onto the frost. "I didn't mean for you to do it that hard.. But.. That's exactly what you were supposed to do. Good work."

Brian's dress, or lack thereof, is sharply contrasted to Samara's. Her large oversized hoodie, that likely isn't hers considering how much she swims in it, and the yoga pants are much more conducive to the outdoors than Brian's lack of shirt.

"I'm sorry!" she squeaks as she holds out two hands, lowering her entire fighting posture, and in essence, her guard. She shakes her hand, trying to recover from the reverberation of the hit. On the balls of her feet she twists and turns, trying to stay warm among the little snowflakes drifting to the ground. Unusually, her hair is tied into a tight ponytail atop her head to keep stray hairs out of her face.

"I didn't think it was that hard! I mean the hit. I mean the way I hit you. I've just… I don't know my own strength?" It's a good thing she's athletic, it makes all of this training that much easier.

"It's fine, Sam." Brian reaches up to rub his forearm against his mouth. "Don't worry about it."Taking a few steps across the mattress he gives her a toothy albeit bloody grin. Reaching up to put one hand on Samara's shoulders… to reassure her he gives a little smile. And then his leg is snaking out behind her, going to make contact at the back of the knees and continuing to push out.

The hand on the shoulder pushes the opposite way, going to effectively throw Samara down. "That's called a leg sweep. Bitch! You gonn' sucker punch me?!" The yelling is accompanied with a little bit of a smile though the rest of his face looks serious angry face. "So yeah. You don't want to let anyone do that."

"Ungh— " And down the dancer goes. She crumples under the sweep and the push her legs actually extending above her head on the way down, yet in doing so she manages to almost put herself into a back handspring. Only… back handsprings don't work so good on soft surfaces (like mattresses), essentially wiping her out just askance to the pavement. This all causes her face to contort into a rather displeased scowl.

"Friiiick! You couldn't give a girl a warning? I didn't mean to hit you hard and you totally meant to do that!" Her own 'anger' is more comical than angry.

She pushes herself up to a standing position, raising her hands again. With a twist, she aims towards his chin again, a crosscut move while her left hand is held up to block her own face. Underneath her sweatshirt she's bruising thanks to her lack of defences. In dance you never worry about getting hit.

Letting out a little laugh as she falils down there, he pulls his hands back up as she goes to stand. Grinning at her complaining, he ducks his head low. "So you always want to have your low center of gravity. Knees bent. Gives you more ability to move faster. You've got to switch that weight rapidly. You're either ready to lunge forward or.."

Pushing on his front foot, Brian dances out of the way of Samara's jab. Head bobbing back, his hand goes up to help swat away the attack at the end. Once the jab is no longer a threat, he steps back up. "That was good. You don't need to attack with your hands. Or your feet." With that he throws a cross over his chest towards Samara's face, but it's a feint because in the same moment he's stepping forward and moving his left up to get through Samara's guard and pat her cheek briefly. Only then does he return back to his guard.

Knees bend while Samara's hands are put up around her face again. "Right. Low gravity… I'm lucky though, naturally mine's lower than yours~" There's some measure of satisfaction in the purely biological fact; it is, after all perhaps her only advantage in this entire spar, and the advantage also has a tiny grin accompanying it. Not that the advantage will do her much good, but just the same, it's nice to acknowledge it.

Sam takes the feint, her own attention on that particular arm and a vast amount of shock as the hand catches her cheek. She emits a small noise somewhere in between a squeal and an objection.

"What else do I attack with?" her eyebrows furrow a little, but she's still determined.

"Well. I'm not a like a fighter. The combat I've been trained in isn't like.. boxing. We were taught how to disable people. So that's how we operate. You finish them fast. And if you can't quickly disable the opponent, you find a weapon. If none of these options are possible. You get the fuck out. If someone has the defences to your moves. You're not a fighter! You need to get away. But we have moves like this." His front foot comes forward, slow to demonstrate. Hooking around her front ankle, he uses his back weight to drive forward. "So this first part is used to get them off balance. But if your back foot isn't stable, you're fucked. Use the rest of your body to drive your back hip towards the opponent."

His right arm cocks back, fist levelling with his head. "This is called a superman punch. It's all about timing. The other guy thinks you're striking bam. Pull back with that speed. Then you hold it as you go forward. Delay, delay, delay." Then his fist pops forward, the way his body angles… makes it looks like he's trying to fly like superman. "Then bap, right in the nose. Then you move in do an arm hold I taught you earlier." His fist brushes gently against her cheek.

"You finished people like me? That sounds… oddly unreassuring," yet the words are delivered with a broad grin. "No plans to finish me yet?" Sami asks, "Oooooor… is that' why I'm joing Humanis First?" her eyes narrow suspiciously as she slowly attempts to mimic the motion.

One of the benefits of training a dancer is she easily copies movement, although with considerably less strength and balance than she used to have before she died. She allows her front foot to come forward hooking around his ankle as per the instructions and tries to anchor her back foot solidly in place, but when she hip checks him, she falls forward, tripping over onto the mattress again. "I don't think is my strength…" she observes as she pushes herself up to a standing position.

The second move, the superman punch, is a little easier though. She draws her fist towards him only to pull it back. "I like this one~" she declares even though she's done nothing…

"It's a hard hit to block. If you get them in a closed space, it can stun them for a little bit. Then you either get to there back, or do an arm hold. Remember. Our favorite place to be is behind someone. And if you ever get caught in a grapple, you throw your hips in, you get the person's back. From someone's back, you can still disable them, but they're going to have a lot harder time hurting you. Which makes sense, because you're behind them. So like this." Turning his back to her, he pats his hip. "Jump on my back. Like a seatbelt. Piggyback. Whatever. Legs around my waist, arms around my chest."

He waits for her to comply. "Now here, you're trying to get the person's neck. If they have their chin down, or have your wrists. That's fine. You can do elbows to the head, or you know.. scratch bite. We're not below that. Whatever you have to do, get the neck. A good lock and you can make someone pass out in fifteen seconds."

Samara jumps on his back as per his instructions, tightly hugging both her arms and legs around him in a complete kind of hug. He can feel her head shake against him, "I'm not going to elbow you in the head. Unless you're going to elbow me in the head in which case Imma kick you."

"I think…" she begins. "I think I could karate chop you in the neck from here… maybe." Well probably not now considering she just told him she figures she could do it. She reaches out and straightens one of her hands to take aim at his neck.

"Karate Chop? Like in the back of the neck? That.. I donno.. You don't really have the greatest range of motion. Short elbows can hurt. Repetitive. Keep the pain up, doesn't have to do a lot of damage, but if it hurts they will want you off your back. And when they try to get you off their back. That's when they'll make a mistake. Lift their chin, move their hands."

He taps one of her hands then her opposite elbow. "So you grab onto your elbow and then just squeeze with everything you have. You have to have that leverage though. If you're pulling down on the neck, that's gorgeous. So go ahead and try to choke me out."

The assertion that she should be using her elbows actually springs Sami into action. After all Brian kind of, almost asked for it, right? Kind of? Her very bony, very pointy elbow digs into his back several times over. Followed by the opposite elbow, taking care to keep one particular hand wrapped around him at a time. Falling off would only make her lose this particular challenge.

Her legs actually tighten around his waist as she does so, particularly as she wrenches her arms around his neck to give her some semblance of leverage, the choke hold imminent should he actually react to her elbow'd persistence.

"Oh god damnit. I meant theoretically. I said choke me out not.. Ok. the elbows would go to the ow. To the head. Not to the back. You don't have to lean back more, that risks your spot on the back. So yeah you got to..

A cough gasps out of his lungs as he wasn't quite ready for the choke. But Brian's neck instinctively tightens, his chin trying to burrown down into her arms. "Now.." He says rather strangled. "Losing air, people are prone to go to the ground. You will most likely get slammed. You can't…" He struggles for breath. "You can't let go." And with that he leaps up and leans back to to fall with Samara below him.

"You told me to!" she counters brightly. "I swear that's what you meant. I mean there would be no challenge or realism at alllll if— " she's promptly interrupted as she's made to be slammed. When they fall backwards, Sam lets out a little grunt though she holds on for dear life awhile longer, nearly convinced she's won this round— whatever that means. All she knows is winning is something she wants and losing is… well… not. "I think I'm stuck," she murmurs behind him. "Also… squished."

Tapping her arm twice with his hand, which means LET GO. He reaches up to try and pry her arms from around his neck. Face reddened from lack of oxygen, he takes in a few gasping breaths once she lets him go. Rolling around to face her, Brian gives her a light smile, over coughs. Crawling forward somewhat, he goes to sprawl out beside her. "Fuck I'm cold." Laying beside her, he folds his arms over his chest.

"I think this lesson is over. You did good." He smiles over to her, poking his head forward to press his forehead against hers. "You know what we should do sometime?"

"You should've worn a shirt," Sami observes with a wrinkle of her nose. "I once babysat this kid that lived down the block from us— really cute and like… two when I… suddenly couldn't babysit anyone anymore, anyways. If he saw you running around outside without a jacket on, he would think you were in some kind of trouble."

She sidles next to him, however, even at her tiny reprimand. "I'm not cold~" she sings. And with her having moved close to him, he doesn't have to do much work to press his forehead to hers. "What should we do? Besides wear clothes outside if possible…"

"Then maybe you should help me out." Brian urges, grinning at her. "That.. that was a great story. Sam. When you suddenly couldn't babysit anymore? Was that when you 'died'? When he was two?" He goes to put her arm over him. "Cause baby it's cold out here~" He sings smoothly, resting his forehead against her.

As far as what they should do? "Have sex. Inside." But that is quickly skipped over like he never even said it. "Did you grow up with Rue or did you meet her in like school? Has she always been a lesbian? How did you guys become friends?" His hand goes to brush her cheek softly. "Anyways. We should go see your brother and sister soon, right?"

"Mmmm," Sami murmurs before rolling over on top of Brian, "For the record, taking off my clothes to help you out would just be counterproductive." Although, arguably Brian could fit in the hoodie considering how much it swims on Sam. "I can be your blanket though~" Her fingertips graze his cheek before her lips follow. She sings against his cheek, the warmth of her lips and breath dancing against his cold skin, "The neighbours might think~"

The comment that is moderately skipped over tinges her cheeks the blush that comes all-too-easily again. But everything else is easily addressed first, "I grew up with Rue. She lived down the block and I think she's always been a lesbian…I can't actually remember a time we weren't friends.. we… yes, we need to visit Adisa and Tahir… before.." Her train of thought is easily lost or never quite coherent following the what they should do.

"Um. I… I've never…" Not that that should be a surprise. "But I…" her eyebrows arch.

Smiling warmly, he pulls her arm over him, snaking his arm around her waist. "You're the best blanket in the world." His eyes close for a moment but pop back open at the song. A grin playing over his ips. "But baby it's bad out here~" And deciding not to wait for her, he adopts a falsetto and sings her part for her. "Say! What's in this drink?~"

"Can you even be a lesbian when you're a kid? Is that even a thing? I mean. Hormones don't even kick in.. I'm pretty sure you can't be a lesbian kid. Can you? You have to be at least like.. twelve. Or eleven maybe? I don't think you can be any kind of sexual when you're a kid. So you start off with nothing and then.." Now he's confusing himself. She's never, "Yeah.. I figured." But I. His eyebrows peak up, lips curling wide. "When I said sometime.. I meant it would probably be best if we did it right now. Anna's not in. Come on." And he's flailing for her hands and going to stand up.

"No cabs to be had out there~" her tenor isn't practiced or warm like or remotely deep enough to count as a tenor. While his hands snake around her, hers reaching around him as she leans her head against his chest to listen to the sound of his heartbeat.

Regarding lesbianism: "I don't really know… I think it happens early or something? But maybe you're right. I mean I pretty much thought boys were icky until I was… nine. At least nine. Maybe ten. And I'm pretty sure I wasn't a lesbian before that… just sayin'."

The flailing and notion of now freezes her for a few moments as she decides her thoughts on the matter and the notion of it all. Her smile softens turning to that small nearly sheepish grin as she nods while she leans forward to plant an impassioned kiss on his lips.

Her fingers lace with his as the pair clamber to their feet.

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