forum Political intrigue and teenage spies might just be the worst molotov cocktail ever. // oxo // CLOSED

Started May 25, 2020 by @croccin-champagne

tune

It was hardly nine in the morning, and the students in Sgt. Meyers' class were already getting ready for a mess of physical activity.

To be more specific, one on one hand to hand. Sparring.

They were outside in the courtyard today, the Sargent having decided that everyone could use some fresh air while the day was just a little nice. The air was crisp, the orange and golden leaves on the trees making it obvious that fall was there. Halloween was soon to come, something quite a few students were thrilled for. The Games and Halloween meant some sort of fun event. And normally, holidays were for going to home to family, with this one being mostly un-celebrated here at Norwood.

Canary was off to the side of the small patch of grass that had been declared the sparring area, currently on the ground and twisted into some sort of pretzel like stretch as she spoke to the two boys also warming up beside her. She was dressed in shorts that were almost hot pants, and a form fitting yellow tank top, hair pulled up and revealing the tattoo that was normally hidden behind her ear.

"Ugh, I hate sparring. Hate it. Can't do it. I'm going back to my dorm to cry and sleep." The tallest boy muttered, fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt as he straightened from stretching. Rico's glasses were perched on his nose, his only pair of contacts missing somewhere in the mess that his room was. His dormmate huffed out a laugh, slapping his shoulder before reaching up to ruffle his hair.

"Don't worry, Guerrero. You'll do fine." Caleb Martin was a fighter, and built like one. He was known for being one of the best students in his year at any physical activities, particularly the kind that required some sort of violence. Despite that, he was a clown at heart. Always ready with a joke to bring levity to a situation, or there to offer a hug when someone was down. He was one of Canary's favorite people.

"Yeah! Just remember, protect your face and chest, never throw the first punch unless you're going to end it first, and don't stop in one place too long." Canary said, tilting her head back to look at him upside down. "Stay on your feet at all times. And don't fight dirty in front of Sarge or he'll probably beat you with one of his boots." That elicited a scared laugh. It was strange, the sound advice she gave, despite her record of slacking off in this class.

Hand-to-hand was one of Aaru's strong points, so he had no qualms with sparring. The only thing that he didn't look forward to about this activity was waiting to find out who he would be sparring with. There were some students who were a challenge for him— and he actually enjoyed fighting them, due to some kind of mutual respect for their skills— but there were also some who were rather laughable when it came to fighting, and there was no enjoyment when victory came so easy.

Aaru stood a little ways off from everyone else— far enough to be alone, but not close enough as to not make himself stand out or seem too weird— while he warmed himself up. He wore a dark grey, sleeveless shirt, leaving his light brown arms— and a few odd scars— exposed. But, for sparring, no-sleeves made everything easier for him, so it was worth it. Even though it was well warm enough that he could've wore shorts, had he desired to, Aaru wore his typical full-length combat style pants— he had about three of the exact same pair so that he could always wear them— tucked into matching combat boots. Shorts were an automatic no for him. He hated them. Maybe it was because they were unprofessional. Or because he didn't like his legs being exposed.

Aaru's moment of silence and solitude was interrupted when a boy around his age— albeit a few inches shorter— came over. With his blond hair all mussed, shirt untucked, and glasses askew, Chess looked like he'd already been through several rounds of sparring. He hadn't, though. Somehow, no matter how hard he tried, he always ended up looking like that within five minutes of leaving his dorm. It aggravated Aaru, because Chess was his roommate, so they had an unfortunate and unavoidable association.
But Chess's undone appearance was only the third most annoying thing about him. The second was that he talked so fast Aaru could hardly keep up with him. The first was that he was an incredibly clingy extrovert who had somehow got the idea in his head that Aaru was his friend rather than just the guy who tolerated him out of necessity.

"It's been awhile since I've sparred anyone." Chess reached up to straighten his glasses and nearly knocked them off of his face in the process. "Not my forte, really." He grinned a bit. "But it is one of yours. I'd bet you are excited, yeah?"

Aaru blinked, avoiding direct eye contact with Chess and silently begging the Universe to make Chess go find someone else to bug. "Excited is a strong word." He glanced once around the field. He spotted Canary, though he refused to let his eyes linger there for long. Unfortunately, his thoughts did linger— specifically on the upcoming competition. It's a horrible thing to realize that perhaps Chess would've even been a better companion for the Games. At least Chess still had some skills, even if he was as annoying as a house fly.

"Who are you going to spar?"

Aaru almost debated sparring Chess, because it would give him a good excuse to hit the guy— but, then again, willingly participating in anything with Chess might further the false impression that they were friends. Better to play it safe and avoid him altogether. "Someone within my skill set, preferably," Aaru said dully.

Chess didn't seem bothered by the statement. The aggravating boy never seemed bothered by much, really. "Oho. That might be kind of tricky to find." He grinned. Aaru did not. "Anyway, I don't know who I'll spar, either. I'll find someone around here somewhere. Or maybe the Sargent will pair people up."

"Mm." Aaru didn't really like that idea. He could end up with anybody on this field.

Canary, used to putting more effort into stretching than actually participating in the class, flipped to her stomach, only to bend into a circular shape while holding her feet. She rocked back and forth, still chatting idly with Rico in an attempt to soothe his nerves. She and Caleb tag teamed it, each of them knowing what conversation topics and things helped take his mind off of the task ahead of them. It showed. His fidgeting slowed down a bit, the nervous tremor in his voice easing as he began to laugh with them after a joke had been made.

The warmups didn't last too long, and the Sargent blew his whistle to gain the class' attention.

"Listen up, ants." Meyers started, his voice loud and commanding attention. Not that it had to be, as most students were at least a little bit afraid of him. Even Canary held some respect for him, despite her general distaste of authority. He was good at what he did, and turned out good fighters form his class. Even if they had started out less than promising. That was commendable enough, but her favorite part was that he preferred teaching students how to learn from their mistakes, as opposed to mocking them.

"Today's class is more a skill assessment than a learning activity, though I expect each of you to come out of this with something new in mind, be it about how others fight, what you need to work on, or the strengths of you and your classmates. In honor of the Games coming up, today's sparring will be styled like a bracket tournament, with the winners of each round competing. Those that show the most improvement, skill, quick thinking, and the winner themself, will earn extra credit points towards the overall grade of this class. Understood?"

There was a resounding 'yes sir!', and Meyers' lips twitched slightly, like he was trying not to smile. "Good. Now, I'm letting you ants choose your partners this time around. Try to pick someone you're evenly matched with, or who you think you could learn a thing or two from. This time, though, I'm letting the rules be expanded a bit. Underhanded tricks are allowed to a certain extent, to judge creativity. Because in the real world, nobody fights fair. No causing permanent injuries, though, or you'll be sitting out the rest of the class."

With that, students began milling about, the trio agreeing that they wouldn't choose each other as their beginning partners. As Caleb split off and Canary stood there on her communications device, waiting for whoever got stuck with her as a last pick, Rico slipped away, approaching Aaru.

"Uh-excuse me." He greeted nervously, that tremor back in his voice. Not coming too close to Aaru–a big believer in personal space with strangers, and his own friends–he lifted a hand in a wave as he spoke. "Is there, uh, any chance we could partner? If you don't want to that's perfectly fine, I just, see…"

Rico sighed, eyes on the ground as he fidgeted with his shirt some more. "I don't want to advance, at all. I really don't like things like this, and I'm pretty bad at them, especially as more pressure is placed on me. I was hoping that someone like you, who's like, really good at this, would be willing to spar with me, because then I know I'll loose no matter how much I put into it. That way, I can stand to the side and support everyone else who wants to win this." He explained, stuttering his way through a couple sentences. In times like this, it was really evident how different he and Canary were, almost to the point where one wondered how they became friends in the first place.

((once again, there's no need to type such long responses lmao, it's just one of Those moments, with multiple characters and things happening))