Who

Talya, D'wane

What

Talya may already be living in hardmode as Southern's tiniest guard, but D'wane's got some more challenging assignments to give out.

When

It is sunset of the first day of the eleventh month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Southern Weyr - Guards' Sparring Room

OOC Date 28 Apr 2018 05:00

 

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"Just makes it easier to sneak up on you and choke you from behind… Or something,"


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Guards Sparring Room

The sparring room of the guard barracks is wide and square, with a high vaulted ceiling. The floor is wooden, the stain and varnish long since worn off. All manner of weapon that one could imagine the Pernese training with line one wall, open use for those that are there for practice. There are also the expected punching bags and dummies, as well as padded mats to prevent anyone from busting their behind. Near the door a few benches are set out for a person to catch their breath. Sweat and body permeate the overall atmosphere.


The sparring room is empty after dinner, when most of the other Guards are off just cooling off from a hard day's work or on night patrol. Talya is neither, deciding to take her time off by relieving some aggression upon a punching bag. She's already sweating, though it /was/ getting really hot in Southern even if the sun had just gone done. The sounds seem to echo in the room, which only makes it more pleasing the harder she hits.

When you're as busy as a Weyrsecond tends to get, it can be hard to find time for things like personal PT. Sure, Jaguar's got PT like all the rest of the wings, but supervising that isn't the same as D'wane undoubtedly whines to himself at some point. And so tonight, he's just grabbed a meatroll or three from the living caverns before deciding to poke his head into the sparring room. At least it's mostly vacant, but he'll watch Talya punching for a second before commenting. "Did it say something about your mother?"

Talya does not seem to notice the new arrival, probably because she's laying it pretty hard onto the punching bag. It's only when he speaks that the young woman jumps, turning her head around to look at the new arrival. She holds a hand out to the bag to steady it… or herself, panting hard from her exersion. The words finally sink in and she smirks at the Weyrsecond, "Something like that. Teaching it a lesson, but it's that one you want to watch out for, sir." She nods her chin over to the bag next to her. "What is the Weyrsecond doing all the way over here?"

D'wane gives the second bag Talya points out a quick once over as if he's sizing it up in earnest and then shrugs. "I think I can take it. I'm bigger." Which is pretty much true for D'wane and most objects in the room. As for why he's there, he shrugs. "Snacking." The half eaten meatroll in his hand is wiggled before he takes another bite. "And looking for something to smack around as well."

While he's eyeing up that bag, Talya is giving the Weyrsecond a look over too. Big, indeed. She may have met the man before but it had been a while since she was in the same room as any of the Weyr leadership. "Food always tastes better when you're not fighting for some privacy." Her own personal opinion of course. She gives a weak little bap to the bag she was fighting. "And there's plenty to smack around, unless you mean a Guard. Cause I hope it ain't me. Not that I'd decline a sparring partner just…" She turns her head back to him, as if that'd explain everything. But mostly to his knot. Hey, she'd enjoy a good fight even if she is definitely not as skilled, but punching the Weyrsecond was not on her list of smart things to do.

The idea of trying to spar with Talya and her obvious reluctance for the whole matter is enough to get D'wane snorting, although he manages not to cough up any of that meatroll as he waves it off. "Nah… not that I'd object to sparring with a guard it's just… I prefer my partners to be a little closer in my size." And not you know, more than a foot shorter than him! Some things would just be unfair! As for the food and where to eat it, he nods. "Yeah, and if I sit in the caverns, someone's bound to find me."

"Smaller opponents are often faster and harder to win a match against," Talya states with just a little bristling about her height. "Maybe I just don't want to make the Weyrsecond look bad." She doesn't quite return to her bag, but does give it a look over now. "Pick the one that looks like a face you want to punch, I ain't gonna stop you." She does return to said punching now that she said so, but it's one hit and then a break so she can look over her shoulder, "I'd have thought things settled down a little after all the trouble with the Headwoman and those leeches from Black Rock."

"Yeah, but the thing about size advantage, it's real. It's hard to make up for over a foot of height difference," D'wane gives a laugh and with his non-meatrolly hand he reaches out to put a hand on the top of Talya's head to demonstrate. Personal space? What's that? "Secret of life, things never settle down. If it seems that way, it's a lie."

Is that a twitch when his hand falls onto her head? There is definitely a twitch from a supressed response of wanting to show up the Weyrsecond with just what she can do, or rather thinks she can do. Like try to flip the all muscled man over her shoulder. In reality it'd be like trying to move a giant rock. "Just makes it easier to sneak up on you and choke you from behind… Or something," Talya huffs out instead. "And I guess it could be worse, right?"

Since Talya isn't going to swing at him, D'wane will take his hand back and grin. "Yeah, but you'd still have to reach." Today is clearly make fun of short people day, but then all seriousness, "Right. It could be worse. Some folk will underestimate you. You can use that to your advantage, but you'll have to work twice as hard as others."

Talya seems to loosen up when the hand is removed, though she gives the tall man a look from toes to head to measure him up. "With all the PT I'm getting in, I bet I could jump your height and strangle you that way. Not that I'm planning on strangling any dragonrider any time soon, even if one deserves it." She gives her abused punching bag a look now. She'll return to it soon enough. Her arms cross over her chest now and she smirks up at D'wane. "You'd be surprised how often I hear that before sparring with someone, using that to my advantage. And they /still/ go and underestimate me when it comes to sparring with them."

"And what would you do when you're trying to strangle me if I just dropped back onto the ground?" Does D'wane plan on squishing any would be stranglers? It doesn't seem like the worst plan. Now that he's finished with his snack, he wipes his crumbly hands on his pants before stepping up to one of the empty bags, giving a snort. "Yeah, I'm not surprised. Recruits tend to be a bit of idiots."
(says the man that was once a young guard recruit himself)

Talya opens her mouth… closes it… Okay, he had her there. "And that's why I'm training hard every day and then some, to learn just what to do when that happens." She circles the punching bag she was at, positioning herself so that she can still watch the bronzerider as she gets back to her own workout. "Pretty sure that bag just called your mother a wherry. Go show it what you think about that." Perhaps she'll take some mental notes. There's a soft chuckle regarding her fellow recruits. "They sure are. Maybe they just got hit too many times on the head."

D'wane is not above giving folks random homework assignments and looks like it's this particular recruits time. "Good! once you have an answer to that, I want a full report!" Written, Oral or practical demonstration, delivery instructions are not mentioned. He'll make sure to place his feet solidly before he starts to hit at the bag, slowly at first as he works up. "If you think the bags are talking, maybe you're the one that got hit too many times?"

Talya first chuckles at the Weyrsecond's assignment, as if he were making a joke. And then remember that he /is/ the Weyrsecond she cuts herself off abruptly. "You're not serious, right?" Most likely she is considering an actual demonstration, which would require trying to strangle him at some point. She goes back to the bag, albeit slowly so not to look like a hot-heated young woman like she was earlier. Each blow, however, gets a good amount of power behind it. "What, you can't hear them?" There's a breathy laugh between punches. "Maybe. Gotta be a little off in the head to join the Guards, right?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" D'wane has had turns to practice his stone face and that's exactly what he's doing now, not a hint of smiling to be found. He does give a few more punches at his bag before snorting. "Guard… rider. Everybody's gotta have something up if they volunteer for either."

Talya blinks in surprise at the man's serious expression, and then tentatively asks… "Sir, is that permission to sneak up and strangle you sometime whenever I have solved this puzzle out to test out my theory?" There is a little smirk jerking on the edges of her lips as she asks this of the Weyrsecond. The punching is getting slower, perhaps her initial adrenaline having evaporated once the man broke her concentration. "Well, every little boy and girl's dream to be a rider. Many probably don't realize til after. Though it's a good trade off, I'd say. Guard on the other hand, we're just all crazy."

D'wane actually snickers at the question. "Sure… as long as you think you can also get past whatever other guards might actually be on duty." The number of places to sneak up and try to strangle a weyrsecond without someone panicking is pretty small indeed. But whatever half smirk was there disappears what Talya mentioned being a rider being a dream and those punches to his bag get much, much harder and he just gives a non-committal "Hhhhmnh." It was only a few days ago that a Fall had another fatality and that kind of thing can weigh heavy.

"Just means I have to train harder and learn more, before giving it a try," Talya says regarding the new challenge. Whether she will actually consider learning a skill to beat the puzzle and putting it to the test, that will be left to the Weyrsecond to someday learn. The short woman gives her shoulders a roll when the tension enters the room. Her own amusement fades and she gives the bag she is on one final and weak pat. "I'll leave you to teach that bag a lesson." She turns to give the man a sharp salute, belated as it is, and a more quiet good night before heading out.

D'wane gives a nod in response to the salute. Once he's left alone, the pace of the punch-punch-punch gets louder enough to be heard in the hallway, at least until the door swings closed again. Consider that bag taught!

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