logsinthenight | combat training mingle log

characters: everyone
location: the village gymnasium
date/time: every wednesday & friday throughout october
content: at the town hall last month, javert offered to set up a place for combat training. this is him making good on his promise. as he mentioned in his bulletin ad, these sessions are open to absolutely everyone, not just those who want to learn how to fight. partner up with someone and spar. do whatever you want, just don't hurt each other too badly—or javert will have words with you.
warnings: violence

setup

The gym's certainly seen better days, with it's crumbling walls and lost ceiling tiles. Javert doesn't need it to be pretty, though. He only needs it to be functional. In the last week, he's been doing what he can to clean it up, washing the floors and making some minor structural repairs.

Once the first day of combat training begin, the day after the ferry sinks, it's as clean as it possibly can be without any sort of overhaul. There are mats set up along one end of the gym, for people to stretch or otherwise use for sparring, and a collection of swords near the door. Some are blunted and old, perfect for training — though they may still hurt — while others are sharp or unwieldy, and will need to be handled with care. Use them, Javert says, but return them when you are finished.

There's a tiny collection of knives, too, though there aren't any targets to practice throwing them at. It's a work in progress. For light, there's a torch set up along the wall, illuminating the room and allowing combatants to spread themselves out from one another.

meetings

For the sake of not being micromanagey, there isn't going to be any formal structure to these practices. Javert is available to teach hand-to-hand combat and swordsmanship, should anyone wish it. He's also enlisted the aid of Jason Grace, who will teach hand-to-hand and swordsmanship, and Bucky Barnes, who is proficient in knife fighting as well as hand-to-hand combat. Anyone else, of course, may teach others as they please. Just this once, Javert's not going to be a stickler for formalities. He just wants to see everyone making productive use of their time, in some fashion.

Training will run from seven o'clock to nine o'clock in the evening. Arrive promptly, or Javert will berate you for being disruptive. No one is required to come to every single meeting, so come as often or as little as you like. If regular exercise is supposed to help combat the effects of total darkness, why not give it a try?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

_{[He'd been making use of the rec center long before an idea to hold fight school solidified into an organized effort, so to see the gymnasium portion gradually cleared and filled with novices is a mildly interesting process to observe.

At the town meeting he hadn't offered to take part for a reason, but watching from the sidelines is no great commitment on his part, and it allows him to see who actually seems serious about doing the work. Only after watching several of these sessions does he circle around the outskirts so as not to interrupt the people on the floor and stop by Javert.]}

You told me you could fight, before. I think it's time you finally proved yourself. What do you say?

_{[Who needs casual hellos when there are casual challenges instead.]}

( Javert's never been one for exchanging pleasantries, so that suits him just fine. He's seen the younger man hovering in the corners of the gym, watching the students, but until now, he's never had much of a reason to approach him. The question draws a terrible smirk out of him — indeed, he does remember making such a claim, and he's certainly willing to back it up. )

I assure you, I would not lie about such a thing.

( Which is to say, yes, he'll fight. Lord knows he could use the practice, and the challenge. And because he can't help being cheeky, )

Perhaps we shall see if you can live up to your words as well.

( That he is a better fighter than Javert. If that is true, then perhaps we won't have any need to hold back. )

_{[He snorts dryly. That's funny, coming from someone he doubts would last two minutes against the kind of senior clipper who'd normally be giving these lessons to colts back home, let alone an activated dark one.

It's not Javert's fault; he's found himself thinking it more and more of the people he's mentally catalogued as belonging to the old world. The people who seem entirely ill-equipped for hardship, who complain about the Invincible not having their favorite food, who walk around with soft hands and--of all the things--guns in their holsters, but claim the most authority to build a community. Soft, spoiled, naive people.

Arrogant? Maybe. But he's had plenty of time to make his own observations about Beacon and the people who've washed up on its shores, and next to the average skill level in the Badlands, anyone looking to make the majority into a comparative fighting force would cry.

He nods to an open space, backing into it so that he faces the man with a suitable amount of distance between them for maneuvering.]}

Talk is cheap. Most of the spirits are little better than wild animals, and anyone can skin an animal. An actual fight is different.

_{[Then, as if reading Javert's mind, with a trace of needling amusement:]}

Don't worry, I'll hold back.

_{[Okay, maybe a lot arrogant. But he's in the mood to pick a fight and he doesn't like the thought of unskilled warriors teaching others. He'll despise Sunny until the day he dies (for good this time), but he doesn't question that Sunny's ruthless lessons have kept him alive. Sunny's still one of the best fighters he's ever seen.]}

Hands or blades? Your choice.

Is that going to be your excuse for when you lose?

( He flashes the younger man a terrible grin. Arrogance, it seems, is a trait that they both share. Javert may not be confident in much these days — not with his mind still in torment, uncertain about the difference between right and wrong — but he is confident in this, at the very least. He knows what he can do with a blade, and how he can defend himself with his fists. It's familiar, and that makes him comfortable.

He takes up one of the blunted swords and tosses a similar one toward M.K. With the blade pointed at him, he circles him, that smirk never once leaving his face. )

I wish to see you at your best. There is little point in us doing this otherwise.

_{[Blades it is, then.

He snorts, as one does when someone fibs for a jest--like saying the sky is green and the grass is blue. His conceit is such that he doesn't even consider it a serious remark. Nothing so far has suggested he could rival Sunny, the Widow, or Pilgrim--and they had been hard. Hard teachers. Harder opponents.]}

Someone using dull swords doesn't have room to talk.

_{[Training swords for training purposes, as makes sense when working with novices. But still. The Badlands had run on a very simple philosophy--the quickest way to make your point is to do it at the end of a blade that you intend to use. Anything less than fighting to draw blood is just playfighting.

But playfighting will do. He's not aiming to hurt, so when he snatches the blade from the air, it's with a shake of his head.]}

You couldn't handle me at my best. Besides, it's your best I'm interested in.

Very well.

( He doesn't intend to hurt, either. Killing each other, injuring each other, none of that serves any purpose. If the spirits were to attack them again tomorrow, Javert does not wish for them to be encumbered by such needless pain.

But if the boy wishes to see him at his best, then Javert shall not disappoint him. Perhaps it may humble him, being smacked around by someone he deems beneath him. The inspector takes his stance, feet planted and sword extended toward M.K. )

We shall have to find out.

combat training mingle log

a late pre-event thing, don't look at me

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