Kyle hosts Verity's hand to hand re-certification. The two share bitter words and take it to personal levels.
Location: Dauntless - Gym
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 1451
It was a requirement of all personnel to be certified in basic hand-to-hand combat. It was rare that you would be exempt from that. It made plenty of sense, given that there was a war going on. That was how the two now found themselves where they were at. The Gym itself had been reconditioned and prepared for a full day of certifications. Though it was generally done between those of their own. Pilots would recertify pilots, Marines would recertify marines. Certification was more about getting it done - and generally it was easier with the person across from you.
Verity was stretching herself out as she came onto the matt. Her helmet and gaurd where they needed to be. She exhaled and inhaled..stretching out her back appropriately. Her head shaking, as she prepared. It had been quite a bit since they saw eachother, and for her - she had subsided in the anger. Her eyes coming up to look for Kyle.
"Ready..When you are."
Kyle had always hated the headgear required for certification, or at least friendly boxing matches. Even with the thumbs free on the gloves for grapple, it felt like wearing headgear while riding a toy, and in reality, nearly every fight Kyle had ever been in had been without a helmet on. Overbearing. Overbearing is the word.
After her own stretches, she found herself at the corner of the mat watching Verity prepare herself. A twinge of tension runs up the back of her spine as she waits for the woman. Knuckles roll against knuckle, fingers flexing, as the redhead turns to face the brunette with a ponytail streaming out of the back of her headgear. When their eyes meet, Kyle's hazel orbs aren't entirely friendly, but just like the rest of her head, they're guarded.
"I didn't think we'd actually end up doing this, Ensign Harte." Kyle brushes her gloves down her tanks and the short, gray sweatshorts she's wearing. Arms come up in a stance, gloves ready to block, as she bounces her heels closer to Verity. "You sure I don't need to check you for a shiv?"
Kyle winks when she says it, extending a glove to tap knuckles with Verity's to signal their start.
"The Sagitarron in me wouldn't let me run away from a fight." Verity says with a soft chuckle as she adjusted the fingerless gloves. Her eyes looking to ensure they are on appropriately. She didn't appear to be to bothered by Kyle at the moment, this was shaping up to be just your normal average recertification. She didn't dare look up at the woman though, "So.. You know an interesting fact? You come off so gaurded.. and yet, I'm the only one that decided to not jump at it the first chance I got." A shake of her head, "I can only imagine how you feel about the others."
She looks up at her and motions with her hand, "..Shall we?" She slowly gets into position, "First Certification in basic is standard defense.. You're a marine so you may be used to the advanced stuff. You just need to come at me in basic forms.." Her hands come up defensively, ".. You're Caprican Right? Surprised you'd even be a Marine.."
"I love interesting facts." Kyle repeats quickly at the end of Verity's rhetorical question. She hovers just outside of Verity's reach, waiting for her and taking ample advantage of the lack of eye contact to read the expressions on the shorter woman's face. "Yeah, let's." Kyle finally agrees and steps in closer, lifting her gloves and shoulders, elbows tucked in. "I'll make sure you get what you need to pass this, honestly."
Kyle's eyebrows soften. "Honestly, Harte? You and the others don't bother me." Kyle mutters under her breath, eyes swiveling to her hands. "I wasn't born Caprican rich, so it's not guarded. I was just keeping my chin high, head on a swivel." Kyle, without introducing it coming, steps in quickly to punch out with a jab and a left...a basic combination to defend against.
"..If you didn't care, you wouldn't be so sassy. I don't have.." She reaches up to touch the tender part, "Any interesting in causing issues.. Though if you're alright with open relationships.. Why isn't your beaux?" She then tries to use her left foot to move forward and come around to hit Kyle in almost the same place..using the speed one would get as you train for dexterity in flying.
<FS3> Kyle rolls Composure: Success (7 6 5 4 3 2 1)
Being called a liar right before landing a punch to the stomach is satisfying. Kyle's eyes flash and she bounces with a little more of her ingrained self-confidence; a confidence some might say borders on the arrogant. "What, you think I'm lying to you? Frak." Kyle cocks her head to the side, see-sawing it in preparation for Verity to come back in. "Look, when you walk in a room and your beaux with her ex, and her ex gives you that look, you don't mouse when you should wolf, know what I mean?"
But Verity's already begun to wriggle under Kyle's skin, far past the collection of stars tattooed into her hip.
Kyle catches Verity's arm with the edge of her elbow. Taller, but not faster, she uses her strength to control Verity's arm, jabbing her in the side once, then flipping the redhead onto the mat before her with a loud slapping noise. "She's going to do what she wants to, but she hurt you to get to me." Kyle lets go of Verity's arm with a little shove. "Put yourself in my shoes, Harte. You've got a right to be angry, but frakked up as everything is, I'm not about to let myself get treated like a homewrecker."
"Good to know atleast one Caprican can throw a punch." She growls softly, she slowly begins to circle Kyle, "Are all Marines dumb? I mean I seriously thought that the idiot ground pounder was just a stereotype.. What the hell do you think was going on? Two Dates.. and me telling her I didn't want to Frak.. It wasn't a huge big deal."
The frown stays and her voice was strained, perhaps it was the fighting they had done - or maybe there's something else there, "Why the hell would you be some sort of Home Wrecker? Hell I told her she needed to choose.. And yet, you somehow feel like you got to protect something that I wasn't even trying.."
She moves forward, coming to bring her leg up and with a slight jump - slam it into the face of the Marine. Not the most honorable move.
The heel of Kyle's hand comes down hard on Verity's knee when it comes up. She shoves down, pushing the redhead back to her feet and grabbing the front of her shirt. The sudden tap of her knuckles against Verity's jaw comes with a shove back, placing some distance between them. Kyle points a finger between her opponents eyes, brows narrowing.
"Don't." Kyle warns. "I know you've got this new money Sagittaron dustbowl thing going on and being an officer might make you feel like you can afford an apartment for a change, but I might feel a little guilty about how things went for the two of you." Kyle lowers her fists back into a fighting stance. She steps in, swinging for Verity's jaw. "Don't make me hurt you, too."
<FS3> Kyle rolls Composure -1: Good Success (8 8 6 4 3 3)
"If you have a problem with Erin - than you take it up with her.. and one more thing.." There's a brief pause and growl as her hand comes up to block the womans hit. She leans forward, "I was giving you a handicap.. You want to see what really happens to Capricans when they try to frak with a Sagitarron and don't have a gun to defend themselves?" She brings her hand to hit Kyle squarely in the chest and knock her back.
"Frak you, Harte." Kyle hisses under her breath, right into the other woman's face. She keeps her tones low, private, silent to the others sparring in the background. "Don't get smug with me. You and I both know this hurt you both and at least I'm smart enough to call it for what it is."
Kyle's biting down on her words with the sudden hand comes in. The punch to Kyle's chest shoves her back and throws her feet out from beneath. Kyle comes down onto the mat. With a high pitched growl, Kyle slaps the mat beside her and is about to get up when...she's technically been knocked down.
"Frak it, you passed your cert." Kyle waves her hand towards the lockers in angry dismissal. "Seriously, Harte, just...get away from me before I do something my jacket will regret."