Feb 20 11:37:03 106 PA

From Chronicles

The current game time is: Sat Feb 20 11:37:03 106 PA.

Ah, the gym! And what better way to work out sexual frustration coupled with unmitigatable energy than by sweating it out? Thus, standing in a rather loose grey issue-sweat pants and shirt is Ordo Malleus himself! Safety gear has been harnessed about his shoulders and waist as he idly pulls on leather grip-gloves, peering upwards at a 'climb wall' set into one particular section of Harry's Gym. He frowns in thought, idly wrapping his growing ponytail in more cloth to prevent it from getting caught in the line. And then he starts up, moving surprisingly quick. He may be a putz, but he has kept himself in marvelous shape...

Kid is at the end of her own workout and she looks it. She's got a light sweat still misting her exposed skin and a few strands of hair have emerges from her headband. A pair of those thing protective hand wraps hang from the fingers of her left hand by their straps, her little gym bag in the right. She's glancing about quietly, looking a bit moody. Not too unnatural for her. Passing by the climbing wall, she will notice that Ordo is there.. takes a moment, but when she does, she decides to pause and observe. Her expression schooling into something vague.

He is quick! He is graceful! He is everything he is not with words. At least, around Kid. Ordo reaches the top without once letting the rope 'catch-up' to him, striking the bell with a quick laugh and a slap of the hand before he allows himself to drop, slowed by the weighted harness rope. There's even a cheery grin as he marks his time - with a quick reference to the wall clock - upon the board nearby. To see if anyone else today could top him. And then? He turns- And the smile stumbles. He blinks, then blinks again, clearing his throat. "Ah... hey." He pauses, tilting his head a bit as he runs a hand through his hair, eyes turned aside. "You, uh.. come on often?" A pause. "Here?" another pause. "You're looking good, Kid."

Kid is quiet and still as he does his climb, her expression lingering in that ambiguous area. it lingers as he completes the climb and then is dropped down once more. And Ordo will meet that ambiguous expression when he turns to find the young woman watching him. She frowns faintly when he speaks, though she responds to him with a slight shrug at first, rather than fire. "Not really.. not before, at least. But.. I've been thinking I should." Her eyes flick towards the wall casually as she adds, "Good climb." A compliment.. if not given with a great depth of emotion.

Ordo tilts his head a bit more in that curious fashion of his at the comment. "Lifestlye change?" He asks, eyes dropping briefly before slipping back up again, the Fop glancing aside again. A very slighty flush fighting for control of his ears. "I mean.. you know, you've got a good shap-.. You're.. you-.. Yeah." Ordo quietly runs his hand through his hair again, before turning back. "You climb?" Without even waiting for the answer, he continues: "How's your music comming along?"

And he was doing so well up until he mentioned the music. She frowns, showing an instant displeasure with the question. But she seems apt to pretend that the question was not uttered as she ignores it entirely. "I guess you could call it that.. been a while since I've done any real fighting, so I figure I'm a bit rusty." She flips the gloves up, over her shoulder casually. "Get most of my exercise on the streets."

Ordo dips his head a bit, the smile disappearing beneath a quiet frown at the lack of info on music; The one passion they most definatly had in common, even if it were for a differing -type- of music. Still, he shakes it off with a quiet roll of the shoulder, and allows a sudden sideways grin to slide up his face. "Hand to hand or with a weapon? Because I -was- trained in self defense in.. In my life from before. Are you working with a trainer..?" His eyes instinctively drop to the sweaty cut-off, and jump back up again.

Kid gives her shoulders a casual roll. the sort of thing that would pay off if she were more busty than she is. "Just working the heavy bag. every other day. Works fine enough for me." Said with a casual tone of voice, glancing off to the side idly. "Not like I'm gunna go punching things in any real fight anyway. But I'll go practice my shooting later."

"You would be surprised." States Ordo, with a thoughtful frown. "You know what I am. There's not much that'd try to get near me when.. when I'm worked up. But, lo and behold, we had a vampire plague." He runs a hand through his hair. "And being able to punch is great and all, if your opponent is standing still. And not punching back. There's a lot more to it.. " He bites his lip, quite visibly -not- glancing down with Kid's own shoulder roll. Busty or not, it's a body that's been on the back-buner of his brain for a while now. "I could .. well, I could find you a good trainer? Or I can give you a few pointers for free?"

Kid looks back to Ordo and eyes him briefly. She's not so effected.. or better at hiding it, perhaps. Who can say? "I ain't gunna fight nothing straight up.. if anything gets close to me, I'll just get away from it. I ain't even gunna bother with that line. I'm good enough at staying out of trouble. I'm just.. knocking off the rust." She pauses then and seems to consider for a moment. She then gives a casual shrug and adds, "But.. if you want to tell me something you think might help, I suppose I can listen."

Ordo nods, running his hand through his hair again as he bites his lip. "Well.. the way my man-s-.. trainer taught me was that fighting is about -thinking-. Because you can always just slug it out, but there's someone out there bigger and faster than you everytime. So, you have to -think- your way through." He frowns again, closing his eyes as he tries to remember something -deep-. ".. Like.. the hands. Everyone always tells you to watch the eyes, not the hands, but thats a lie. You watch the -body-, because they'll be watching your eyes too. If they're going to feint, you'll see it in the body. You'll see the turn, the twists, whether they're going to use legs or arms or head. Whatever they intend has to go through the body first.." He opens his eyes, and shrugs. "Outside of that takes a bit more physical know-how. I mean, you can't just punch away. You've got to learn to react without thinking. It's.. well, I was trained for a long time. Childhood, practically, with fist and sword and shield. And a few other things. It's hard to really know where to start without a solid trainer on your side.."

Kid listens, her expression settled into a simple, balanced state. When he seems done for the moment she responds, "I've been trained too for a while.. by life mostly. I learned my stuff on the streets.. mostly." She breathes out and shrugs her shoulders. "Hell, it probably don't matter. I doubt I got time to learn nothing and I'm probably gunna get killed anyway." Not a dark certainty, but more a casual resignation as she shifts, casually turning her side towards Ordo, directing her attention elsewhere, though not walking off for the moment.

Ordo's frown darkens quite visibly now, as he blinks in surprise at the last comment. "Kid... what kind of trouble are you in?" He bites his lip again, this time hard enough for a small trickle of crimson to seep downwards. "'Cause.. you know. For all we had going on, and everything we didn't, I can still help. Hell... " Ordo pauses, quietly peeling the gloves away from his hands. ".. I want to help."

Kid gives a noncommittal shrug at the offer of help. "Since you gotta be a merc to get any credit around here, I'm gunna do that. If I can get in on whatever action there is for the dead things.. the ones that came before that goddamn fog. People are having visions and shit.. so I figure its only a matter of time."

"Uhmm." States Ordo, dying to tell Kid to -not- become a Merc. Being a DJ is infinitely safer. But if he's to have any chance at all, he knows the last thing he should do is -tell- her what she should do. "You sure you're cut out for the work, Kid? I mean.. equipment wise?" It's the best way he can think of saying it. "And... well, dammit. Honestly, hire a trainer. Especially if you're serious about this." The Fop runs a hand through his hair again. "Because, frankly I've never met an -old- Merc."

"I'm making a deal for a good gun," Kid states simply, glancing at Ordo. "Don't got time for a trainer, so it won't matter and I ain't paying some jerk to tell me what to do if it won't mean anything." She gives her shoulders a casual roll. "I'm still doing the job with Aimee. But it's clear enough that people don't respect you unless you shoot shit. Besides, I could use the money. I'm tired of never having enough to buy anything good." She looks away again, though doesn't exactly focus on anything in particular.

"What about.. " Ordo pauses, glance aside again. "Hell, Kid, everyone respects you. Probably a little afraid of you too. Anyone not female's got a hard life ahead of them getting to your good side. ... what job with Aimee?" He turns that brown eyed gaze back to Kid, never stopping his constant lip-worry. A hand goes through the hair again, and he mutters softly. Before, at last, squaring his shoulders. "Look, I've still got that Bushman armor off the guy who tried to snipe you. The body's busted up and the helmet's a little.. melted.. but you're welcome too it? Be cheaper than buying a better suit off the cuff."

Kid snorts and snaps a glare on Ordo. "Don't talk about shit you don't know. Only one that really treats me good is Cali." Her voice rising enough that one or two folk look over. She doesn't notice. "I don't want your armor.. I got my own. And you ain't talking me out of it. This shit ain't up for discussion." She turns fully back to Ordo, arms lifting to cross over her chest. "I ain't some helpless little girl that never killed no one, Ordo. I'm sure you didn't forget."

"Yeah. I didn't forget.." States Ordo, softly. He seems mildly annoyed for whatever odd reason he might be, and slightly hurt as well. But he hides it all under a mask of studied indifference; he must be taking cues from Kid even now. "'Course, it's a hell of a lot different killing folks for money than it is to save your skin. Or even tossing your life on the line for a paycheck. And, may I just add?" Here, Ordo holds up a single finger, and speaks very, very quietly: ".. Fuck you." There we go.

Kid scowls at that last, but for now her tone will be back to a more natural tone. "What's your damn problem?" Obviously not seeing the detail of her words. "Killing is killing. And if I'm killing.. undead.. things.." She seems uncertain if that's what she might be killing. "..I won't feel bad about it. Won't matter if it was a person though, if the money is good enough." Though thoughts down this line seem to strike some other nerve as a sense of displeasure rises inexplicably.

"Did I say you shouldn't be a merc? Did I say it's a hell of a lot safer and a hell of a lot more stable money being a DJ? Did I? Did I mention what a really -fucking- bad idea it is to jump feet first into this line of work without a clue as to what it means besides 'shooting shit'? No. I offered to find you a trainer and toss you a battered armor that you could fix up for cheaper than a new one. And would probably work better than the one you have. So, you know what? Fuck you. Fuck this. And definatly, -definatly- fuck that."

Ordo's in a bit of a tizzy, isn't he? Having nicely gotten his hackles up, the Fop tosses the peeled gloves over his shoulder and shoves the harness off his body, letting it -clank- against the ground. "Fucking fuckity fuck." He states, unable to express himself reasonably at the moment.

Kid seems confused with the outburst, as if she'd not really expected it. And for a moment seems unsure how to respond. Well, she seems to have an immediate, knee jerk reaction, but even as she starts to speak, she pauses. Her lips firm into a tense little line. Though after a moment she draws out something dusty and long neglected. "Sorry.." Now, the word isn't given a mocking lean, but it is a bit.. anemic, as if she isn't even sure just how to say the word in this situation and context, but nudges it out there regardless.

"Oh yeah? Well, yo-" Ordo breaks off, and blinks. He's caught off guard by the apology, and it shows. Especially since he was expecting the fire and the brimstone. His own fire is blown out by the anemic tone, and he just stands stupidly, mental gears grinding as he throws them into reverse. At last his body detenses, and he runs that hand through his hair, blowing out a breath. "Yeah. I... I'm just trying to do right by you, Kid. Thats all." He shrugs vaguely, horribly unsure of where to go. He had the entire thing worked out; The arguement, the storm off, maybe even a few hours of steaming hot annoyance. Damn that witch! She ruined his grudge!

Kid seems to think about that for a bit.. not responding for several lingering moments. "I guess you have.. sometimes at least," she admits after that pause. Again, the depth of feeling isn't there, but it isn't mocking or rueful. "But I ain't being convinced off this. And I ain't paying for no trainer. I know how to fight.. and I ain't stupid. I know what I can and can't do, so don't think I'm doing this without thinking. I don't wanna die."

"That makes two of us." States Ordo, with a quiet, rueful smile. Before the smile disappears and he glances off to the side. "Like I said, though, Kid.. it isn't about fighting. A trainer.. a -good- trainer.. teaches you how to -think-. And when you get into the heat of it, that'll be a lot more important than the ability to shoot straight. Thats.. thats all I'm going to say about it." He glances back to Kid, brown eyes searching - but trying hard not to show it. "I'll be out there too, you know. Those're my nightmares crawling into this world. Mine and that dwarf's. I owe it to humanity to send them back.." The rueful smile grows slightly. "Just don't shoot at the big, bright light, alright?"

Kid frowns faintly, but her tone isn't so snappy as it can be. "We'll see how it turns out. But I'm ready for.. whatever." Or so s he says. She puts up a brave enough face. no smile though. She still seems in a down sort of mood. "Look, I'm going home.. I don't like showering here." A pause, a flicker of uncertainty passing for her before she murmurs, "Maybe sometime we can.. talk.. or something."

"Yeah. I'd like that." Says Ordo, gently. ".. Talking, that is." He adds, as he is not nearly as innocent as once he was. He then rolls his shoulder, glancing towards the parring sections. "I think I'll work out my wrist. See you later, Kid?" Asks Ordo, the statement becomming a question near the end as he glances down once more. Hand once again run through that hair, which is only getting longer by the day; he doesn't keep it trimmed to proper ettiquette length like he used too.

"Yeah.. sure." Kid's uncertain response. She's in unfamiliar territory and it shows. She steps back twice, then turns and starts off without thinking to say good bye. And at an elevated pace. HIdden with her back turned is the deep uncertainty that rises up, the young woman nipping lightly at her bottom lip as she heads towards the women's lockers.

Ordo himself is a rather more obvious whirlwind of conflicting emotions, the worse of which lies down deep. Beneath the flesh, in the darkness behind his eyes where an inferno roars and whispers its psychic temptations. 'Follow', it says. 'Annoyance', it growls. 'Love', it tempts. 'Hate', it demands. Taking whatever he feels and pushing it to far extremes, as a teetering top never allowed to settle. Thus does the Fop move towards the sparring rooms to handle his 'passion'.. By swordplay. You perverts. Tags: kid, ordo