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[tactical_alert]

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[goddamngrenades]

[ One of his legs locks around Malcolm's as he twits again, this time to the left, bearing him down in an attempt to get him back on the carpet and get the first pin. He can see. He can cover his own flank. He's also out of practice but this? This is something he can't keep fucking up. ]

[tactical_alert]

[Malcolm makes a cut off noise like a mix of surprise and a choke, ending up on the floor. York may be out of practice but he still knows his moves. The air is knocked out of him for a second, but when that second passes he gives a smile.]

Not bad for someone recovering from brain surgery.

[goddamngrenades]

Didn't think so.

[ He pats Malcolm's shoulder before taking a step back, offering him a hand up. ]

You need a minute?

[tactical_alert]

[He'll take that hand, thanks.] That was nothing. I'd like to see you try that one again.

[Not that York would try the same thing twice when Malcolm's ready for it now. And he's still probably going to get shown up in short order by the Freelancer. But he slides back into his stance when he's back on his feet.] I'd say pretend I'm South, but I imagine that would get me a very broken face.

[goddamngrenades]

That's just the warm up, butternut.

[ He bounces back, bringing his hands up, jabbing at the air a few times. It feels good to throw himself into something like this again. He needs to work out more, clearly. Be active. Jump out of buildings and shit. ]

That'd get your throat crushed, yeah. Oh- hey D!

[ He pauses to wave at the stairs behind Mal for a second. ]

[tactical_alert]

[Please don't jump out of buildings if you don't need to, York. You're going to give him a heart attack.

Also, that distraction attempt? Please. He's going to use that wave as an opportunity to aim a few hits to centre mass, to knock the air out of him first and then go for the pin.]

[goddamngrenades]

[ Well he tried! Never said anything about attempted distractions.

The hit comes in fast and he takes it. Probably could twist out of the way but he leans into it instead of rolling away and uses that closeness to grapple around Malcolm's shoulders, ending with them on the ground like Mal wanted but on their sides rather than either of them pinning.]

[tactical_alert]

[He's not sure he has the weight or strength to simply shove York over for the pin, so he throws his legs around York's to lock them in tight, tries to roll them over. Someone is going to come out on top, and he's bound and determined to prove something to this Freelancer. And to himself. That maybe there's something to the idea of making him part of their honourary little group.

Thank god Delta isn't watching them right now.]

[goddamngrenades]

[ The roll works- he hadn't counted on the leg lock. Which he should have. Careless. It's been too long since he's done grappling. Boxing? yes. Grappling? No. Having the whole world on both sides go spinning leaves him disoriented long enough for the pin to count, his own arms locked around Mal's shoulder and ribs, trying to get free. ]

Sovovabitch-

[tactical_alert]

[That actually worked. Yes, he supposes York might be slightly out of practice, but he'll take the pin where he can get it. He relaxes against York with a little laugh.]

You can let go now, that absolutely counts.

[goddamngrenades]

No it doesn't!

[ He twitches his legs and tries to roll them over but he's got no leverage and- fuck. FINE> ]

Fuck me, it does. Jesus you're wirey.

[ He's used to people like Maine and Reggie. And Carolina, for that matter. Sparring with CT and South wasn't ever a thing he did much of. His arms go loose and his head thuds back with a grunt. ]

[tactical_alert]

[That's a predatory little grin right there.] Not a disadvantage sometimes. [He'll roll off York right up to his feet and offer a hand up.] Maybe once Carolina has Delta more up to speed on hand to hand, he can assist you in your workouts and sparring.

[goddamngrenades]

[ He takes the hand up, shaking himself out. Okay. Warmup's over. Time to knock him down a peg or five. Or himself. This is not his best night. ] I don't know how well I'd be able to manage that. He's- yeah. I don't think I could even pretend to hit him

[tactical_alert]

You don't have to put any force behind it. I'm sure Carolina doesn't. You two are as in sync as two people can be. You're not going to hurt him, and he won't let you.

[goddamngrenades]

If I didn't feel like I had to teach him how to defend himself I wouldn't let anyone- it's. Complicated. I'm gonna ask him if he's comfortable with me explaining more about the project where he's concerned when he wakes up next. Give you the whole thing. As many of us that keep popping up you kinda deserve to know.

[tactical_alert]

You've told me what I needed to know. You've told me even more than that. Don't feel obligated to share anything more if you aren't comfortable with it, you or Delta. It's a bit in the past now, even if it likes to come back to bite us time and time again. This isn't the same situation.

[goddamngrenades]

NO it's just...We all refer back to the project as this big thing that made us what we are- but it fucked us all up. Every last one of us. Delta more than most and- I guess. I kind of just want you to know what I fought and died for, you know?

[tactical_alert]

...I'd like that. If you're okay with telling me, I'm more than willing to listen. We can have something strong to drink sitting nearby.

[goddamngrenades]

That'd be great.

[ One pin each seems good. He's- really tired at the moment. He'd love to let it go until later but...he needs to know WHEN south is from. ]

You know the worst part? Not one of us is from the same point in the timeline. Not. One. So- depending on when she's from I'll either want to shoot her or want to sit her down and explain why everything went sideways.

[tactical_alert]

[Malcolm lightly bounces on his feet a few more times before letting himself settle flat on the floor. It's clear their conversation has steered away from sparring, and York's mind is elsewhere. Maybe that's why Malcolm even got a pin to begin with.]

Someone's going to have to write out a chart to remember who's from when. Here's hoping you have to explain things instead of shooting her.

[goddamngrenades]

Yeah. So far I'm the farthest behind. D's a year ahead of me, North's somewhere between us, Carolina's...years ahead. Christ.

[tactical_alert]

You can't exactly help that. [Given that York died and all. He initiates contact again to ground him, hand to arm lightly.] You don't have to talk to her, you know.

[goddamngrenades]

If I'd been faster- [ He shakes his head. Leans a little into that hand before scrubbing at his eye. Nothing can be done. It's over. There is there. Here is here. ]

Doesn't matter. I do. For D's sake, I need to know when she's from. After that...

[tactical_alert]

If you'd been faster, York, then you probably would've died some other way. Sounds like that's the Freelancer trend. [That's...pessimistic, and he looks away and frowns at himself for that comment. Unhelpful. Unpleasant.] Sorry, that was unfair.

Help me move the furniture back, and we can sit on the couch while you talk to her?

[goddamngrenades]

[ He's quiet for a long moment. It's unfair, yeah, but that doesn't make it any less true. Back then he'd gotten soft, off his game, and he'd died. And then everything else that came after. York cracks a rough laugh at that, low and bitter. ]

...If not Reggie then Maine. I could take him when it was just him- but with sigma and everything else he took? Wouldn't have stood a chance.

[ He shakes his head at himself and goes to haul the sofa back to where it should be. He needs to work harder at this. Delta's getting trained up but it's not just the locks he needs to be going over. He'll hit the gym tomorrow. The range in District 4. Spar himself exhausted and do it again and again until he's absolutely fucking sure it won't ever happen here. ]

Yeah. That'll be good.

[ He texts instead of talking. It's easier that way. Soon he's speaking, growling, frustrated- leaving. Asks Malcolm to keep an eye on Delta while he's out handling this. Wanders home about two hours later, slight smell of alcohol on his breath. Parks the bike, sets the motion trackers on the way in, flops on the sofa. ]

...I think we're good.