Second time - Same biscuit


anne_icon.gif claude_icon.gif

Scene Title Second time - Same biscuit
Synopsis Anne and Claude practise. Claude gets his balls kicked in. Anne gives him cookies.
Date February 10, 2009

Woodsy place

Trees, low foliage and rock as far as the eye can see, the Catskill Mountains' beauty is easily rivaled by its harshness, this time of year. Snow lies like a blanket over the majority of it, and its low temperatures are enough to keep the majority of people away, save for perhaps some ski resort goers here and there.

It is the perfect place then, Claude thought, for a bit of knocking people about (for a good cause!). And that's exactly what he told Anne before giving her the location, telling her to wear a coat, and simply grabbing her by the arm. When they finally pop into said Catskills though, that same arm is hastily let go of as he staggers forward a step. Someone does not enjoy being teleported, as is also evident by the look on his face. "Here is fine." He promptly states, then glances over his shoulder back to Anne, and repeats less gruffly, "Here's fine."

If they were going out to a cold place then Anne was definetly grabbing her coat, and her gloves and her backpack too. Fortunately, all of that doesn't take more than a couple of moments to assemble. "I'm coming, I'm coming.. it's not like the traveltime will be that horrible you know?" There's a smile to her voice but she none the less avoids slowing down too much. There's no point in it, really, and once they land and her grip on him releases, she takes a few moments to look around, and also put her backpack high up in a tree, out of the way. Just in case and all. "You really don't like relying on other people for much, do you?" She asks of him, while turning around to face him. She's trying to keep the knot in her stomach from forming since, no doubt, this excersise is going to hurt. But, she's literally asked for it, hasn't she?

"Relying on people," Claude starts, finally taking a proper look around himself, and giving an idle kick at some snow at his feet, "only promotes helplessness, doesn't it?" This is a likely a rhetorical question. "Live alone for as long as I have, and you start seeing the merits in not depending on other people to help you when you're in a pickle." The area is given another look over, and his eyes sweep the snow ridden ground for a moment.

And as a rethorical question, it's not one that Anne is really going to answer, though her opinion was clear from the previous question of her own. It all depended so much on your definitions of many words in there. Life, not the least of them. She rolls her shoulder back in a slow circle, and exhales in a huff of white smoke. "Alright, then. On the topic of getting oneself out of craz pickles, which sounds like youre being chased by vegetables I must admit, what did you have in mind for today? We just going to watch me flail around and get beat until I understand not to put my head in bad places, or?" Is there another theory. She doesn't know, and is honestly okay with either of them. Even if she'd /prefer/ not to get smacked around so much.

The vegetable comment gets a silent chuckle from Claude, who folds his arms over his chest and peers inquisitively over to Anne. "Well you're exactly a model student, are you? I hit you, you cry. You hit me, you still cry. I knew teleporters were a pain in the arse to knock about and train properly, but I didn't expect this." As much of an insult that might be, his expression is little other than amused.

Anne waves two fingers at him in the air. "Hey! I might cry," Which she doesn't even look like she's the slightest bit embarassed about even. "But I still asked to continue, /and/ I'll have you know I dared to wrestle with Kazimir too. And yeah, that was maybe a dumb thing to do, but he would've killed everyone otherwise so." It was the only thing she'd known to do anyway. Her point? Crying doesn't mean coward. Then she waggles an eyebrow at him, taking her hands back down to her sides. "Even so, we shouldn't be comparing you to most invisible dudes, either, now should we." Ha!

"Don't know what you're talking about. Model citizens, us." Claude retorts, giving a grin that clearly hints he knows the opposite is true. But enough of that. The Currently Visible Man puts a finger to one of his temples, and tilts his head upward slightly. "You've still not got it. You've got to use what's in here, whatever it may be." His hand drops again. "Love, sadness, fear, hate, it's all the same thing. It's just emotions to drive a person to do what they think they need to get done. So which is it in your case, then?"

So much for keeping it all at a joking stage, eh? But then that was probably not going to get what she needed to have done, done. Anne sighs. "Don't know if you can sort it up in such easily quantifiable things." She says finally. "But, as I'm sure you noticed last time.. there's a good bit of anger in there." Which honestly, Claude was the only one to have seen. Others most saw her as a cute and kind thing, which might be the truth.. it just wasn't the whole truth. "Love, also. And I'm not superwoman, so yeah. I get scared." A lot even, it just wasn't something she let decide what she was going to do or not do, is all.

Claude smirks, warm air circling up from his face as he sighs and thinks. After a few seconds, he simply replies, "Toss the love thing." He absently rubs a shoulder, and starts walking toward Anne again, in a half circle around her. "Anger and fear's much easier to use. What was it, abuse? Were you too afraid to strike back? Waiting for your boyfriend to realize you were his one and only soulmate, but he just liked to smash your face in after drunk evenings instead? Boo bloody hoo." There are few ways in which this could have sounded more patronizing and degrading. The malevolence in his voice may be uncalled for, but it's all part of the process.

Thankfully, Claude is off his mark the first go around here, which gives Anne a few moments to gather up her wits. So that's how we'll be playing things today, then. He wasn't soft when it came to outside things, and he clearly wasn't when it came to inside matters either. It was a good thing to know, and remember. She starts moving as he does, not intending to stand still and wait for him to whack her over the head. Doesn't help, that. Not even a little. "Sorry, mate. You're way off your mark on this one." Wrong continent, even. Though, for some reason she's not really up for just sharing what it was that drove her anger last time. She knows what it is, she knows exactly. But. Yeah. "Makes me wonder what drives your engine, though. Anger and fear." What is he afraid of?

Claude laughs freely, then shakes his head. "Anger's driven by fear. As for that, I've got plenty things after me. Bagged and tagged by the Company, who's still after me after I've escaped their clutches twice, not to mention all the new friends I've made along the way, who'd like to see me dead rather than live any day of the week. Everywhere I go I have to hide, because I know my enemies could be anywhere." His grin stays despite what he's saying, and he watches Anne carefully now… "What have you got to run from?"

Remember that first time, when Claude said there were two kind of teleporters. The ones running away from things, and the ones running towards them? Potentially, he got those a little bit mixed up in the case of Anne. Potentially. "Might be right here then, if that's the way it is." She murmurs, as far as his enemies go. The question though, gets the anger inside starting up at a slow boil. What is she running from. "They killed my son." She says simply enough, coldly even. "He was three." Which is all the information she figures he needs, really. What else could be important enough? Only the second thing. "And this gives my daughter a chance to live." So throwing away love, in her case, was not so easy. It was what fueled her fear, and her anger, and made a nice complicated mess of it all. Complicated things, emotions.

"Do you know who else died?" Claude doesn't stop his circling, head angling sideways ever so slightly as he gives his answer, in a feigned smug tone, "eleventy million people, every day. What made yours so special, then? Why should I care? Why should you care?" Even though he doesn't appear set on attacking her - at least not physically - he's not without a preemptive tensing of muscles. Perhaps because of what he adds next. "Wasn't that much of a waste. He was only three."

"FINE. You want me angry? I won't argue." At least not this time, she wont. Though it makes her no less frustrated, that she doesn't have a half clue on what to do with it. How do you beat someone up, even if they don't have crazy ass training? Ask Claude, not her. Still, she knows it's about practise, and she wont get past that unless she tries appereantly. So she tries. Balls her fist up, and tries to hit him. Where the spleen lives. However, her stance sucks, she gets no oomph in the hit aside from angerpoints, and if she keeps that up she'll break her wrist for hitting wrong.

Despite perhaps having been able to dodge that punch without any effort, it still connects. Though… with little result. "Oh, that one almost hurt." Claude chuckles, oddly lighthearted for the topic of conversation of just a moment ago, "What's that you're doing with your fist? Thumb on the outside, unless you want to break it when you stop hitting like a girl." He swings a fist at her shoulder per example, though barely hard enough for so much as a bruise.

Anne agrees with Claude on that one, it almost hurt her too. Which shouldn't be the result of this, really. She sighs, and most of that anger just runs off her again. It's not really the same, when he doesn't mean it. She swing at her shoulder connects, and while it hurts (and she makes a slight face), it's not really bad. And there's a lot to be said for paying attention too. "Okay, ow." Though not seriously intended really. She looks at her fist, then at his, and quickly rearranges fingers and limbs. There's something about how he moved his body too, though. " not just with your arm." Hm. She tries again, but puts a liiittle bit of body into the swing too. Test-wise. It would probably go better if she didn't hesitate.

Again, she easily hits him. This time, there's even a slight flinch! "What was that?" Anne's sparring partner peers at her, still looking all but impressed, "Is that how you expect to defend that kid of yours? No wonder the first one ended up kicking the bucket." He even stands still for her now. Almost inviting. Come on, then.

And again, with coming after the name of her little kid. Yes, Anne gets angry this time also, but it's a different kind. Colder. A bit more tired, in a way, than before. It's like when you whack one place too many times in a row. The person starts trying to dodge it. None the less, she aims a fist to his face, though it's really mostly a feint. It allows her to come closer and jam a knee up to his private parts. /That/ she knows how to do. Her mommy taught her when she was a wee thing. "Would you /lay off/ my son. It's getting old."

Aha! The fist doesn't do much in the ways of getting near Claude's face, but does succeed in distracting him long enough for something less expected to happen. Hggk— Ow.

The first thing that strikes the man is pain. Naturally. Pain that keeps him from talking for a moment, and has him half doubling over as he stumbles a step or two back and quietly urks. But still, STILL he can't help but crack a grin almost immediately after that, stating matter-of-factly in a constrained sort of voice, "See, that's something. Didn't think about that, just did it."

"Didn't have to." Anne says, with a bit of a glare. She can't quite stay angry at him for too long, for some reason. But at least for a while. "But it's also the fucking /only/ thing I know how to do.. plus the make fist thing you showed me two seconds ago. I aint got a clue as to how to punch someone around, aside from those two things and that gets /very/ easy to read." Of this at least, she's sure. Still, she can't help but smile a little bit at the doubling over. HA! He felt that.

"Then get a punching bag! Throw some punches at the mirror, practise in front of the telly!" Claude straightens back up, though a fair bit slower than he may like. The tinge of pain in his voice is also definitely still there. He'd feel sorry for himself if he hadn't learned that didn't get him anywhere. "These sorts of things need time, not just one-on-one training." The kick to the family jewels seems to have taken the edge off of his snark. "At the very least you've got the right motivation."

Anne has a couple of secondary ideas to kick in there too, though she's not going to share them exactly. "Yeah, well. What can I say." She offers him a bit of a grin. "You're good at pissing people off, I think. As for the rest, alright. I'll be doing a good bit of practise then." She looks a little mischevious then, for a moment, before hefting a dramatic sigh and eyeing her nails. "But I tell you now!" Diva voice. "I'll kick your tiny behiiiind if it has me breaking a nail." Huff. Hairtoss.

That… simply gets an halfhearted eyebrow raise. Claude finally straightens all the way with a quiet growl. Still ow. "If you're done being victorious and all that. Or pretending to be, anyway— mind zipping me back where we came from? I've got a trip to prepare for." He's a bit bitter, but not entirely unamused. This is progress, and that's always a good thing.

"Not quite what I was going for, that." Anne softens down and just smiles a bit at him. "And sure thing, I don't mind zipping you back again, in ooooone moment. Got something for you." She walks through the snow and quickly climbs up in one of the trees to get her backpack back. "I didn't actually know when you were going to come around next time, so I've kept it with me for about a day, but they should be pretty fresh none the less." They what? The backpack is pulled open while she makes her way back to Claude again, and she pulls out a brown plastic contained with a clear see through lid. Inside? Home made cookies. Chocolate chip ones. "Hope you're not allergic or anything."

Claude stays quiet throughout the climb, contemplating the options of what this something could be. He's got half a mind to assume the worst, and thus more pain, until the actual container comes out. "Allergic to wh—… cookies? I knock you over the head, insult you to the point of… and I get cookies?" Phoenix really, really does have an odd bunch of people. Not that he doesn't look grateful, just awkwardly so. There may even be a brief smile! Before it goes back to a smug grin.

"Yeah, you get cookies." Anne replies with a bit of a smile, zipping up her backpack again before putting it on. And in the quiet corners of her mind, she decides that there are some things Claude needs to hear more often. Like thanks. Only, she likes showing thank you rather than saying it, whenever she can. Either way that goes though she holds out a hand for him to take. "Where'd you like to go? Where we met up, or somewhere else?" As long as it's within the city, it's just a jump away. Longer? Well. He'd have to suffer through midporting points.

Anne just chuckles, and even as she does so the now familiar sense of tightness spreads around Claude's body, as she pulls him and herself with her back to their meeting point. "Be safe now!" And without too much further ado, the young woman vanishes again. She's got a boxing bag to acquire, on top of a couple of other things. Still, the goals for the day have been fulfilled.

February 10th: Orange
February 10th: No Promises
Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License