[ The coffee maker dings and he twitches, hand snapping to where his sidearm would be if he was in his suit, braced on his thigh. It's not there. He's not- they're fine. South is someone else's problem right now. ]
Fuck. Why her? Next thing you know the fucking Director's gonna pop up. Then you'll have to make sure I don't run off and shoot him.
[Malcolm slowly puts a hand on York's shoulder, fingers tightening firmly. Whatever happened must have been terrible. (Few things he's heard about the project have been anything but.)] Take a breath. What's she going to do, come here and kill you? You're too wound up right now.
She was never higher than 4th on the Leaderboard because she's too damn impatient, doesn't watch her own flank, and isn't fast enough to make up for it. Her range scores were never as high as north's and she's more of a brawler than a dedicated hand to hand specialist. She's sloppy, easy to predict, and attempts to compensate for her failures with more powerful equipment- that she is not fully trained in operating. [ Rather than the usual cocky twist of a smirk and easy bearing this is- this is a rundown of liabilities that end in one logical conclusion. South's death, if she tries. She'd fail. It's tight and militaristic and he's hard as stone under Malcolm's hand. ] She'd lose. North's like blood to me but if she comes here and tries anything she'll end up a bloody smear on the pavement before she gets close to Delta.
Then I'm going to be an enormous hypocrite and tell you to stop worrying so much if she can't so much as touch any of you. [That hand's not gonna leave unless York wants it to.]
Jackass. [ He mutters, but there's no heat to it. No humor either. He needs- he needs to hit SOMETHING and, fuck. ] Wanna spar? I gotta get this out of my system before I talk to her.
If you're game, then I am. Maybe you'll have a clearer head after. [Calmer, maybe. Or too tired to bother replying. Any or all of the above is a good outcome at this point.] You know she's just going to upset you no matter what you say to her.
If she's from after, it'll be a problem. If she's from before- maybe not so much. You can't- you can't hate someone for something they haven't done yet. Can you?
[ It doesn't make much sense to him but he holds onto that. It's not right to hate someone if they havne't done the thing worth hating them for.
He rolls out his shoulders, swigs his coffee, and heads into the livingroom to push things back. Make a ring. Move the fragile equipment out of the way. ]
[He won't even hazard a guess. It's not something he has any answer to, and he imagines York's question is mostly rhetorical anyway. He'll follow suit, pushing things aside and loosening limbs out.]
If you're comfortable with that. If we come to blows instead, you might end up damaging my moneymaking face. [It's a joke, look at that stupid little smile. Sparring should never go that far unless you happen to be a cocksure major.] First to three? Or is it just however many until you feel less fit to burst?
No headshots for either of us. Bruises are a bitch to cover and I had surgery recently. [ Twice over, in fact. ] First to three, all grapples are good, tap out if you need to, no hits below the belt, no biting, licking, or grinding. Stepping on toes is also sort of against the standard rules but ehhh.
[Well, some of those rules are a little more creative, but also perhaps distressingly necessary. Given York. Given their...whatever it is. He stretches his arms, loosens up his neck, and falls easily into a stance, arms raised.]
It does seem a bit cheap, deliberately stepping on toes, but possibly a good diversionary tactic. But we're going to have some good, clean fun. Such as it is.
Seriously sparring with Florida was the WORST. I don't know if he was trying to grapple or playing grab-ass.
[ Which is why he didn't. Usually. But there'd been the odd time when he'd had to and, well, that was never much fun. He rolls out his shoulders, toes off his shoes and settles into his stance, hands up, head tilted to the side. Keeping Malcolm on his right out of habit. ]
[Should he point it out, or would that just make York more annoyed? Let's just test it out first and see if it's a weakness. Malcolm bounces on the balls of his feet a little eagerly, spry and quick but with deceptive power is usually his style. Going up against a Freelancer means that he's pretty sure his ass is going to get seriously handed to him, but he's more than willing to risk that.
He deliberately tries for the left, darting in and daring to make the first move. It's very possible that it's the most protected side just because of how York learned to cope, but he'll give it a shot.]
[ To the left, to the left, everything you own on a box to the-
ohshit.
Mal comes in quick- quicker than he'd expected but he's never seen him in action before now, has he? There's a half a second where he's swearing because he can't see except he can. He blocks and twists to get an arm around Mal- somewhere. Shoulders, waist, hips, wherever and follows through to try to bring Malcolm around and down for pin one.
or he can fuck up and end up on his side with Mal still on his feet. WHO KNOWS. ]
[To be fair, York does react and recover quite quickly, but it's not enough to get Malcolm off his feet. They're both at the disadvantage of never having actually sparred with each other before (how did that ever happen?), so they're surprising each other.
But Malcolm's exploited the weakness, and it's York who suffers the consequences. At least Malcolm offers some advice instead of chides him for it.]
We should do this more often so you can relearn how to work with your left. You're trying to overcompensate for a fault that isn't there anymore.
This is why Carolina is the hand to hand specialist.
[ He doesn't roll back to his feet so much as kick up, getting from on the ground to back in Malcolm's face in one smooth motion. Still tense about his left but he's going right for a grapple, hauling Mal in close to try to off balance him. ]
[He'd say something witty in return, but York is not only up so fast that he's almost a blur, but he's also coming straight at him instead of giving any breathing room for another go round. He can't block the grapple, even as he jerks backwards too late, and his balance is indeed thrown. That was him letting his guard down, bollocks. He tries to plant his feet against the pull to regain some sense of where his body is in relation to anything.]
[ 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. ]
[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.
[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.
[ 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. ]
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Fuck. Why her? Next thing you know the fucking Director's gonna pop up. Then you'll have to make sure I don't run off and shoot him.
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[That is not a no. He's just being a hen. Hell, maybe it'll put them more on even ground.]
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[ He pours himself a short mug of coffee, tosses in some sugar and does the same for Malcolm. ]
He's out cold. We can just keep it to the living room. Push the furniture back.
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[ It doesn't make much sense to him but he holds onto that. It's not right to hate someone if they havne't done the thing worth hating them for.
He rolls out his shoulders, swigs his coffee, and heads into the livingroom to push things back. Make a ring. Move the fragile equipment out of the way. ]
Points for pinning?
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If you're comfortable with that. If we come to blows instead, you might end up damaging my moneymaking face. [It's a joke, look at that stupid little smile. Sparring should never go that far unless you happen to be a cocksure major.] First to three? Or is it just however many until you feel less fit to burst?
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It does seem a bit cheap, deliberately stepping on toes, but possibly a good diversionary tactic. But we're going to have some good, clean fun. Such as it is.
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[ Which is why he didn't. Usually. But there'd been the odd time when he'd had to and, well, that was never much fun. He rolls out his shoulders, toes off his shoes and settles into his stance, hands up, head tilted to the side. Keeping Malcolm on his right out of habit. ]
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He deliberately tries for the left, darting in and daring to make the first move. It's very possible that it's the most protected side just because of how York learned to cope, but he'll give it a shot.]
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ohshit.
Mal comes in quick- quicker than he'd expected but he's never seen him in action before now, has he? There's a half a second where he's swearing because he can't see except he can. He blocks and twists to get an arm around Mal- somewhere. Shoulders, waist, hips, wherever and follows through to try to bring Malcolm around and down for pin one.
or he can fuck up and end up on his side with Mal still on his feet. WHO KNOWS. ]
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But Malcolm's exploited the weakness, and it's York who suffers the consequences. At least Malcolm offers some advice instead of chides him for it.]
We should do this more often so you can relearn how to work with your left. You're trying to overcompensate for a fault that isn't there anymore.
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[ He doesn't roll back to his feet so much as kick up, getting from on the ground to back in Malcolm's face in one smooth motion. Still tense about his left but he's going right for a grapple, hauling Mal in close to try to off balance him. ]
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Not bad for someone recovering from brain surgery.
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[ He pats Malcolm's shoulder before taking a step back, offering him a hand up. ]
You need a minute?
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[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.
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[ 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. ]
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