Xanthee, G'tan


A bronzerider comes upon a weyrbrat in the workout room and can't help but give a few pointers.


It is afternoon of the twenty-fifth day of the eleventh month of the twelfth turn of the 12th pass.


Bazaar Guards' Workout Room, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 06 Jan 2018 07:00


Xan_gif8.gif Gtan45.png

"I'm full of a lot of stuff. Depends on who you ask, though."

Bazaar Guards' Workout Room

The Igen Bazaar Guards' Workout room is much like the rest of the bazaar: functional and worn with time and use.

The room is large and mostly dark, signs admonishing those ruffians to 'Put Your Weights Away' so one doesn't trip over them between rough wooden benches and high-backed chairs. Along the walls, leather bags filled to tautness with sand either swing gently or hang in ominous silence, guardians of punching power.

In the back is a change room, hidden by a curtain with a huge 'M' emblazoned on it. Nearby is a smaller closet with the mark for 'Women', a hastily constructed change room for those women who are willing to compete for benches with the men.
Finally, the best and worst thing about this workout room is the smell: the odor of Man Sweat that is lodged so deeply into the stone and wood that it may never recover. It is a scent that cannot be ignored after fresh air, a piquancy of hard work and discipline that assaults the nose and then embraces, welcoming one to share their own unique smell into the pot.

It's the day after yet another Igen sandstorm, and with the winds finally died down, a certain raven-haired weyrbrat is taking out her frustrations on one of the hanging bags of sand. Xanthee's hands are wrapped thickly, wearing only some cotton shorts and a tank top, hair pulled up into a high runnertail, as she weaves around in front of the bag, fists held in front of her face as she gives it a couple of quick jabs, setting it swinging back slightly. Then a dock as if she is avoiding being hit, and she comes up with a strong right hook which sets the bag spinning. Her eyes narrow sharply, she is obviously picturing something, or maybe someone, on the bag in front of her, because the ferocity with which she attacks it makes it feel personal.

G'tan is a familiar face in the guards' training room, though perhaps not to Xanthee. His schedule doesn't align with that of many, after all, particularly since it changes from sevenday to sevenday. Tan board shorts, sandals, and a fitted grey tank mark the blond, blue-eyed bronzerider as the beach bum he once was in another life, but the purpose with which he moves into the room assures that he's there to do anything but lounge around. He doesn't spot the black-haired girl right away, the process of setting down his things going rather in time with her first swings. It's the impact of that hook that draws his attention as he slips his sandals off, a corner of his mouth quirking as he observes her form and the obvious emotion behind it. "Now what'd it do t'you?" he asks in a light tease as he starts to wrap his right hand. "It was just hangin' there all quiet-like. Though," he adds, his smirk deepening knowingly, "Maybe it's not the bag you're really punching, huh?"

Standing up as she hears someone talk to her, Xanthee puts a hand on the bag to steady it as she gives the new arrival the once over. Wow…if she wasn't thoroughly taken by Mal, her inner flirt might have taken over by now, but as it is, she just chuckles slightly, looking embarrassed. "Yeah, you may have got it in one there. But really, it's kind of frowned upon to lay out a bronzerider, so y'know, making do and all that." She says with another look as her eyes finally catch sight of the man's knot and a small groan escapes her lips for her big mouth, really how hard is it to think before you talk Xan? She dips her head in apology, "Sorry Sir, I didn't see your knot…"

"That depends on the bronzerider," G'tan counters with frank amusement as he finishes winding cloth around his right hand. He digs into his bag for another roll of the stuff and gets to work on his left. Xanthee's apology gets waved off with a shake of his head. "Don't worry about it. I don't think it's me you're wantin' to punch; just a wild guess," he says with a tilted grin. He presently sobers, however, looking down at his hand and stopping his winding. It's a quick thing he does next, though not hidden - a ring is pulled from his fourth finger, a slim chain pulled from around his neck, the ring slid onto the chain before the whole is put back over his head and he continues with his winding. "Name's G'tan of Zinakoth, Parhelion Wing," he says with a dip of his head as he looks back up at her, and a sandy brow arches subtly. "You're not havin' trouble with a rider harassing you, are ya?"

A little blush blooms over Xanthee's cheeks as she watches the bronzerider making his own preparations, but it quickly subsides as he doesn't seem to take offense to her words so she begins to relax a little bit, taking a small wooden blade from her waistband, the basic shape of a stiletto blade. Holding it in her hand tightly, she begins to attack the punching bag, moving around it, bobbing, weaving and bringing the blade in to make contact all over the leather surface with various jabs and slashes as she continues to practice her defense, always moving, never staying in one place for long. Then the bronzerider is introducing himself and she pauses, breathing heavily with her exertions. "Well met. Xanthee, Weyrbrat." she gives with a little giggle for her 'title'. When he asks about harassment she shakes her head, "Oh no, no harassing, I know what to do about that." she says with a little giggle as her blade snaps out to hit the center of the bag hard, "Just some differences in opinions with family."

G'tan watches Xanthee's wooden-bladed dance around the bag curiously for a moment, standing as he does so an moving to his own bag of choice. "Weyrbrat, huh?" he echoes wryly. "You seem a little familiar, though. Stood here before?" His lifemate, while not insistent that he befriend every Candidate, does urge him to take a good look at them all and remember whomever he can. Sometimes faces stick, other times they tickle at his mind, as is happening now. "There's knowin' what to do, and really knowin' what to do, just remember that," he says, tapping his temple before tapping his fists into the bag in a warmup, one-two, one-two, then a steady flurry of short-distanced punches that hit the exact same spot without fail, focused more on getting his blood flowing that with dealing damage just yet. "You oughta practice that on the dummies out back," he suggests between measured breaths. "Deal with the arms and legs and such."

"I did yes, for the double hatching a couple Turns ago." Xanthee confirms as she moves over to a nearby bench where she has a towel and waterskin towed. Giving her forehead a wipe with the towel, she takes a long drink and nods to him while he imparts some wisdom onto her. "Gotcha, I'll remember that." she says with a little giggle then she watches him appreciatively. "You're good at that." Ahh Xan, always the wordsmith. When the dummies are mentioned, she dismisses that idea with a shrug. "I find I get too many guys who want to come up and show me the right way to do it when I'm out there. I don't need that headache. I just come here when it's quiet. I'm more working on my form than anything else, so one of these bags works fine." She now sits down on the bench and watches him, emerald eyes sharp on his form to see if she can pick up any pointers.

"They're not tryin' to give you a headache, they're tryin' to give you even steadier footing. You ever consider they might be trying to teach you a different way rather than the 'right' way?" G'tan asks with a hike of his brows, finishing his warmup and shaking out his arms. "You come in here, into the domain of the guards and dragonriders who're trained in combat and all sorts of ways to handle any number of situations, they're gonna be watching' you and wantin' to be sure you know what you're doin'. Adaptability and flexibility and being' willing to learn from anyone who knows what they're doin' is the key to stayin' as safe and strong as you can, and much as I respect the Zingari, they don't know it all, either." Yes, he's sure he sees an eclectic edge to what she's doing that could definitely be from the trader end of the woods. He deals his bag a left straight punch, right hook, and then a high roundhouse in quick succession, and explosion of motion that sends the back swinging almost to the ceiling. He catches it with a grunt to still it and smirks at Xanthee. "I'm good at it because I don't let myself think I'm just good enough. Plus I've been around a while."

Darn it! The one time Xanthee doesn't have a note book on her is when she most needs one. Apparently it's time for Xan to get schooled. As G'tan goes on to make several really good points, she slumps her shoulders a little bit and she sighs a bit at herself as she watches him send his bag flying on its tether, a look of appreciation in her eyes, "Yeah, I guess you're right, about all of it. I will definitely take that to heart." She pushes herself off the bench and back to the bag she was using, taking a stance in front of it, hands up. "I just get so defensive when I think I'm being treated like a delicate flower only good to work in the Tea Room." Her voice takes on a note of anger towards the end, her father's scarred face in her mind's eye as she lands several loud punches, putting so much behind it that Xan hisses and turns away to shake her right hand a bit after it was jostled the wrong way, trying to hide the movement from him.

G'tan gives an approving nod when Xanthee concedes, then utters a snatch of laughter. "So don't assume you're bein' treated that way. You've been a Candidate, and you're an Igenite. Shouldn't be any delicate flowers in the bunch, and if there are, they've likely been forced to be." Just in case there's any doubt as to what he thinks about traditionalist viewpoints and the way some of the more hidebound treat their women. As Xanthee's anger rises, he can tell she's putting too much behind her punches and knows she probably just hurt herself. "Another thing to keep in mind," he says, moving away from his bag to come around in front of her, a hand offered so that he can do…something that isn't clear yet in the wake of her little mishap. "Don't fight angry. The odds of making a mistake go through the roof." Smirking, he adds, "Somethin' I've gotta remind my weyrmate about a lot."

Xanthee shakes out her hand, still hissing as she unwraps it quickly to get a good look. Her wrist looks a bit red but after moving it around gingerly she finds it's still working, just really sore. "Another good point. You're just full of them aren't you?" She giggles at that before hissing at her throbbing hand. "Well no more work on the bags for me today." She says bitterly, her workout had only just begun.

"I'm full of a lot of stuff. Depends on who you ask, though," G'tan quips with a grin, and holds out his hand a little closer, flexing his fingers in emphasis. "May I?" And as for her stopping her work on the bags, he tilts his head a little. "Unless you wanna work on kicks. Then you're still good. So long as you keep good form."

Xanthee holds her hand out for him to get a better look at it. "Ha! Funny too. You're weyrmate's a lucky lady." She says with another giggle. When the idea of working on kicks is mentioned, Xanthee blushes a little bit and seems to shrink in on herself a little bit. "I haven't really tried too much kicking, it feels weird and throws me off balance." She admits with a self-deprecating grin.

G'tan's hands are gentle and steady as he looks over Xanthee's hand and wrist cradled in his palm. He covers it with his other hand, feeling carefully, manipulating here and there with gentle pressure and possibly causing a few subtle pops of release before relinquishing it. "Get some ice on it, if you can. And remember to always make your first two knuckles your impact point, keeping a straight line with your wrist. They're your strongest." As for his weyrmate being lucky, he chuckles. "Sometimes she thinks that. Mostly I'm the one who thinks he's lucky." And then the matter of kicking comes up, and his brows hike at her again. "Don't let yourself get caught unprepared. No time like the present to learn! And you seem pretty determined about what you can already do, so…" No excuses!

Xanthee winces a little bit as her hand gets manipulated by the bronzerider, but when she gets it back, she smiles thankfully. "I'll do that." And as for his next piece of advice, she mentally files it under good to know. When he mentions that there's no time like the present to learn kicks, she gives him an affirmative nod, "You're right. Any chance you can show me?" She asks hopefully, giving him one of her patented beaming Xanthee smiles of pleading, "Please?" Her large emerald eyes giving him her best puppy dog eyes.

G'tan takes one look at that pleading gaze from Xanthee and laughs mirthfully. Stars help him, is this what he's going to face when his daughter gets to be a certain age? "Faranth. Save that for the boys, kid; you don't have to beg me! I've got a little time, sure. But wrap your hand again, keep it a little more stable. And y'know," he continues as he wraps a burly arm around the nearest bag to take tension off the chain it hangs from, which he starts to adjust lower, "there's a greenrider I'm friends with who'd probably be happy to give you lessons if you ask her. My duties with Parhelion don't give me a ton of time for teaching," not to mention his family life consuming the rest, "but she'd probably take you on in a snap."

Xanthee can't resist a triumphant bounce as she starts rewrapping her hand, making sure her wrist is well supported, "Well you said yes, so it must have worked just a little bit." she says with a little giggle. Then she's watching him lower the bag and at the recommendation, she nods her head emphatically. "Oh that would be great! Ive been wanting to ramp up my training a bit recently." Gotta work out all that frustration with her family situation.

"What makes you think I wouldn't've said yes anyway?" G'tan counters with a wink, and secures the bag once more. "You'll want to look for Kyara of Liareth," he tells Xanthee, and then pulls her a bit further back from the bag so that he can lead her through the finer points of balance, counter-balancing, feeling when everything seems to be sitting properly throughout the body, and the like. And eventually, especially if she's quick on the uptake, they'll get around to actually kicking the bag before G'tan's duties call him away once more.

Add a New Comment