( open ) — july catch-all

[kampfgeist]

WHO: Heine (kampfgeist) & you
WHAT: July, generally
WHERE: all over the place!
WHEN: the month of July, minus event
WARNINGS: TBD

baby's first catch-all log... starters to come as the opportunity arises, that's how this works, right?

Comments

( closed ) — eddie munson

[kampfgeist]

[ by the time heine heads up the street to the address eddie had given him, it's late afternoon, almost evening, the sun starting to dip behind the taller buildings on the horizon. (don't get him wrong, this isn't mood lighting—it's just that even having adjusted somewhat to the existence of a real sun, he still prefers the city when the light's a little less harsh.)

this is going to be a fascinating experiment, he thinks. his accelerated healing has, historically, meant that toxins leave his system faster than he can become aware of them, so drinking—and presumably drugs—have never had that much of an effect.

but now he's here, much weaker than he was back home, and ready to find a fun new way to fuck himself up. ]

Yo. [ heine lifts a hand when he spots eddie—he's hard to miss, with the hair and the look. which, ironically perhaps, is not all that different to heine's own, leather and denim being staples of his own wardrobe too. ]

[guitarpicks]

[ they're two peas in a pod already, these two. eddie looks up from where he's standing, well leaning, against the side of the building he's taken residence in. there's a convenience store on the first floor and apartments above, a nice roof with plenty of space.

he's got a cigarette lit, takes a final drag before stubbing it out on the wall. that can't get him in trouble, can it? ] Hey, man. That was fast.

[ he nods to heine. ] I was thinking we head up to the roof if you don't mind hiking up some stairs.

[ and by stairs he means the fire escape on the side of the building. he points to it with his thumb, back over his shoulder. ]

[kampfgeist]

[ all heine can think about these apartments is how nice they are—how it feels almost wrong, to actually occupy one of them. the place he'd lived before was a matchbox in comparison, a studio if it could even be called that, and here...

well, suffice to say that the ease of life here is simultaneously a huge relief and something that puts heine's entire being on edge. not that he was ever that good a sleeper to begin with, but something about the creature comforts, the silence, even the fucking sky has him carrying tension high in his shoulders and neck, a perpetual headache.

come to think of it, a joint is probably exactly what he needs... ]

I'm not far. [ he gestures back the way he came, vaguely. then again, this city is so small compared to what he's used to that it's possible heine's idea of "not far" is different than anyone else's... ]

And stairs are fine. [ ladders also fine, although heine will definitely let eddie take the lead. call it his instinctive paranoia. maybe the weed will also be good for that. ]

[guitarpicks]

[ eddie doesn't know this city like he knows hawkins, a place where he can judge if that statement would be true. so he just hum in agreement, dropping the topic like any other pleasantry.

eddie's not really one for pleasantries as he starts to lead heine toward the fire escape, which involves them going up about seven stories. having eddie go first might be a good call from a paranoia perspective but it does mean that they move at eddie's pace; which is the pace of a chronic smoker and asthmatic who skipped every gym class he could --- it's slow goings. ] So how'd recruiting for your fights go, Raging Bull?

[kampfgeist]

[ all the better that eddie's no good at pleasantries, because heine wouldn't know a pleasantry if it spit in his face. he can manage the bare minimum of civil conversation, sure—but small talk is far from his forte and he's comfortable in silence.

also not athsmatic, which means the slow pace up the fire escape is a little entertaining, but heine knows better than to complain. gift horse, mouth, all that. ]

Better than I expected. [ it was surprising enough that he's honest about it now. ] I didn't expect many takers. Got some good fights out of it.

[ he's self-aware enough to know that for most people it's probably weird to be in a better mood after a series of fights in the middle of an intersection, but he is who he is. also: ]

Who the fuck is Raging Bull?

[guitarpicks]

So how many bored brawlers do we have in this beautiful… [ Eddie pauses as he moves up the ladder, trying to think of a word for ‘city’ that starts with a ‘b’ but falling short. maybe he should have paid attention more in English class. ] … bad place.

It’s a movie, man. About boxing, I think.

I didn’t see it. [ but he knows about it! which doesn’t matter because when the reach the top of the roof, Eddie guides them toward an area of the place he’s set up two rather plush looking chairs he’d never be able to afford at home. he flops into one, groaning as it irritates the healing scars on his sides and back. he hisses before speaking. ] Make yourself at home, dude.

[kampfgeist]

I met six or seven. There's probably more. [ he's not thinking that he got to fight everyone in the city who can fight, that's for sure—but the fact that a half-dozen showed up is a pretty good turnout. ]

And because I know you're curious, [ his tone is dry, which is how you know heine is joking, ] it was mostly fists. Only two weapon fights.

[ it's very important research that heine has been conducting here, clearly. and maybe the boxing reference is more apt than he knew, even though heine is not a film buff—wes anderson who?

it's not a bad setup eddie's got here, definitely nicer than where heine lived back home. although many aspects of this city suck, the digs are pretty decent. he's also nursing a couple of unexpectedly tender spots following his fights, so heine is careful as he drops down into the other chair. ] Oh, fuck. That's not bad.

( closed ) — alhaitham

[kampfgeist]

[ although he'd never admit it aloud, heine is pleased by how many takers he's had on this fight club situation. it seems that he's not the only one in the city who's itching for something to do, some way to keep their skills sharp even when nothing of their surroundings demands it of them.

all the fights he's had so far have been exhilarating in their own way, definitely a better way to pass the time than endlessly exploring the train tunnels under the city or searching through files upon files in city hall. by the time heine spots alhaitham approaching, he's much more relaxed than he'd been at the start, sitting now on the curb with his legs stretched out into the street, jacket on the ground behind him. his t-shirt has a few small bloodstains, but heine himself appears uninjured. ]

Yo. [ he lifts a hand in greeting, as if there's anyone else around that could be mistaken for him. heine is a pretty discernible figure, generally speaking. ]

[justscribing]

[True to his word, Alhaitham strides up about when the hour passes. The scene presented to him certainly makes Heine's identity easy to discern.

He nods once in greeting.] Heine, right? I'm Alhaitham. I hope you still have plenty of energy, and we won't need to reschedule.

[kampfgeist]

[ that's definitely a comment coming out of concern for alhaitham's own schedule and not for heine's physical wellbeing, but it still makes heine snort amusedly as he stands and shakes his arms out. ]

Don't worry, I bounce back quick. [ and he is indeed fine, at least by now.

a quick look is enough to tell heine that alhaitham has the size advantage here—they're about the same height, but heine is considerably lankier. whether this will be an advantage or not probably depends on—well, whether alhaitham also happens to be super shonen strong or whether he's just human. ]

Fists, you said. Right?

[justscribing]

[Oh Heine, you already know him so well.]

You're free to use a knife if you want. Since you don't intend to instruct and I'm not very familiar with them, I'll stick to my hands.

[He is just Normal Human Strength, but the goal was never a victory--he should find where his blind spots are as a result of lacking a sword and his vision, and adjust his fighting reflexes accordingly.]

[kampfgeist]

Nah, fists are good.

[ the refusal to use a knife isn't a dig. heine's sure alhaitham is a decent fighter—nobody who can't at least take a punch would volunteer for a quite literal street fight against a stranger. it's just, you know, heine's biology, plus he might not have much of a conscience but what he does have tells him he can't bring a knife to a fist fight.

just to be safe, heine steps away from the curb and out into the street. fewer obstacles for either of them to run into, that way. ]

You ready?

[justscribing]

[Alhaitham follows, to stand opposite of him a few feet ahead.] Are we going until someone requests a yield? First to the ground?

[Probably... not until one of them is knocked unconscious.]

[kampfgeist]

Your call. First down works for me.

[ first blood is meaningless, and first unconscious would stray a tiny bit too close for comfort to the "not trying to kill anybody" line. ]

slides in with starbucks here

[def]

[ gepard's shed his armor for this session, at least, left in his white and blue uniform. while geomarrow is light enough to wear even in the heaviest and harshest of battles, but he finds it unnecessary when they're here to spar and nothing else. and while he knows that the other party might use knives, he trusts his training and strength enough to get out of this intact.

he makes himself known with a slight nod, rolling his right wrist to test it. it's been a while since he's removed his bracers and his entire arm feels very light. ]

Gepard.

[ white hair, red eyes—there's no mistaking him. ]

What are the terms of this sparring?

takes a sip 👀☕

[kampfgeist]

[ there's definitely no reason to dress up for the occasion. heine himself is in jeans and a t-shirt—the shirt looking a little worse for wear, by now, although heine himself is unharmed. he's sitting on the curb and considering the scuffed palms of his gloves, and when he hears the other man approach he looks up and lifts a hand, waves the glove like a little flag. ]

Heine. [ but obviously gepard already knew that. just trying to mind his manners, or something. ]

Terms... depend on you, I guess. So far I've done [ he ticks them off on his fingers ] first blood, first to the ground, one "until we feel like we're done."

[ heine's an idiot but he's no fool, and he can tell by the way gepard carries himself that he won't have to put the kid gloves on for this. ]

Trying not to do first knockout, though. That's a little too close to the not trying to kill anybody line for me.

and ofc i arrive even later

[def]

[ first blood is viable, but it won't last for very long and gepard's hoping to get some mileage out of this. it won't do if either of them starts bleeding after a few punches. a knockout isn't fun either in a place where everyone's a stranger.

a nod: ] First to the ground, then.

[ he's more confident that he'll last longer this way.

in any case, he supposes they don't want to waste any time, so gepard takes a fighting stance: back foot on the ball, full weight on his front foot. if heine's not going to move first, then he'll take the first swing. ]

we take turns being late until eventually infinity passes between tags

[kampfgeist]

You got it. [ heine likes that option. he straightens up from the curb and shakes his arms out, puts a little distance between himself and the buildings—he fucked up the mailbox with an earlier bout, and is trying to learn his lesson from that.

the fact that gepard takes the first swing is—interesting. refreshing, in a way. as he dodges the first blow and ducks in for an uppercut of his own, heine tries to get a read on gepard's movements, the way he protects his core, whether the way he moves or the steps he takes give anything away about how experienced a fighter he is. partly for heine's own reference, partly because it informs how close to all out heine is willing to go.

despite being on the defensive, heine does his best to give as good as he gets, blocking what he can of gepard's blows (although he takes plenty, too) and returning them. ]

slides in

[bemist]

[ Gebura has spent the majority of her first life living in the Backstreets. You learn to look for landmarks or make your own, skirting past bloodstains on the wall, bodies on the ground. Heine's filmed directions are incredibly easy to follow in comparison, but it's not as though she hustles to get there. It's just a silent stride, baseball bat over her shoulder--not to be threatening, just to exist, a place to keep it resting.

And soon enough, she shows up, tall and scarred, long red hair pulled up high into a ponytail with mismatched eyes coming to rest on the only guy around here who looks to be waiting expectantly. A nod; she's clearly the succinct type. ]

Hey.

[ ... Very succinct type. ]

welcome, here's your name sticker

[kampfgeist]

[ it probably wouldn't be hard even to pick heine out of a crowd, between his height, shockingly white hair, and red eyes. as it is, though, he's the only person loitering on the street corner when gebura arrives, wrapping his knuckles in a strip of cloth bandage. he isn't injured, but he did fuck up his gloves in one of the fights that came before, so this will have to do.

he lifts a hand when he spots gebura, a brief greeting. heine isn't one for small talk either, and he's happy to skip the pleasantries to get right to the important stuff. ]

Yo. [ he finishes wrapping his hand and straightens up from the curb, borrowed fillet knife in hand. he hasn't done much with the knives so far, as most people have opted for bare fists and it felt wrong to bring a knife to a fistfight—he feels much better about it now, since gebura is armed with something even heftier. ]

What are your terms?

[bemist]

Don't think it's worth saying first blood, so.

[ She looks him over, considering. He looks like he's not going to be all that easy to fight, which is thankfully something she was hoping for. She's had a lot of pent-up stress since showing up here. And this is a far more constructive way of getting it out, she'd believe that. ]

First one to hit the ground? Or if either of us feels like calling it early, but I get the feeling that's not going to happen.

[kampfgeist]

[ that's a fair assessment—a little blood never bothered heine and he gets the feeling it doesn't bother gebura either. nobody comes to a fight with a bat over their shoulder like that unless they're reasonably sure they're not going to get their ass handed to them, and anybody who's reasonably sure they can win this probably wouldn't care about a cut or two.

he tilts his head briefly, considering. ] First one to hit the ground and stay down? Not KO, just... you know. Down.

[ because heine hits the ground a lot, but he's almost always up and off it a second later. perks of being freakishly agile, or something. that's how he tore up his gloves, before: sliding across concrete and then vaulting himself up again. ]

[bemist]

Down. [ She echoes, just to confirm. ] Not really feeling like getting up again. Got it--sounds fair to me.

[ Everything is definitely succinct with her, including negotiating fight terms. They're not here to get bloodthirsty or rip each other's limbs off. It's just a way to burn off some energy, perhaps a tad more violently than is healthy, but this is what she's used to. ]

[kampfgeist]

[ "a tad more violently than is healthy" is basically heine's middle name, so he's not about to call her on it.

heine steps away from the curb and into the wider area of the intersection, some small effort to be cautious about not causing more damage to poor innocent mailboxes and/or newspaper stands than he's already done. when he turns back to gebura, he gives her a considering glance, then flips the knife in his hand and adopts a more defensive posture, arms up to protect his torso. ]

Come on, then.

[bemist]

[ It's rare that Gebura fights while imposing the restriction to "try not to kill", but she's disciplined enough to keep that thought in mind and does her utmost to keep her movements just restrained enough. It's not as though she has to hold back entirely, after all, not when Heine is a force to be reckoned with.

It's a blur of blade and bat that goes on for probably longer than it should, with Gebura occasionally throwing in a fist or a sharply spun kick into the mix, but eventually she drops down to one knee, breathing shallowly. His recovery time is pretty damn impressive, she has to note, though she's a little irritated (with herself) that she's not back to full strength yet. She can't wield E.G.O. in this place, and she's missing Mimicry.

... Still, that's no excuse. She was able to fight pretty damn well before she ever gained that blade, so she'll have to keep at it for the future. ]