starlogs | OPEN. — i knew that something would always rule me

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OPEN. — i knew that something would always rule me

WHO: dutch + you
WHERE: the training deck, a bar?
WHEN: dutch's first week aboard
WHAT: dutch needs sparring and possibly drinking buddies
WARNINGS: none yet, will edit if necessary

[ the eluvio is considerably larger than dutch’s own ship, designed to hold a great many more people and to remain in space for far longer periods of time, or so dutch guesses. this is not the kind of ship that can dock at a planet or a moon like lucy’s docked on westerley. in size, it’s more like the rac cruiser or one of the slaver ships travelling the j and beyond. it doesn’t seem to be a slaver ship, at least, but dutch is still on edge, displeased with her displacement and her current situation as a whole. that explains why she’s found her way to the eluvio’s training deck, too: fingers wrapped, feet bare and non-descript athletic clothing on the rest, she’s been punching and kicking a punching bag for a while now, working up a sweat and settling in a steady rhythm of jabs that is broken up by kicks. she’s light on her feet, but her mind feels heavy, some of the same thoughts recurring over and over.

she didn’t get a choice about being here, and if those who’ve come before her are to be believed, no one knows how to get back yet. it’s just another event in a long line of events that dutch never got a say in, and she’s so tired of decisions being made or things happening that impact her like this. she’s tired of it, and it comes out in anger, simmering under her skin and making her punch just this much harder.

johnny left. that’s another things that she keeps coming back to. he’s been her moral compass ever since she’d run away, he’s been her gravity and her centre when she’s been lost, her best friend through it all, and he left instead of letting her ride shotgun on whatever train he’s gotten on. she wants to punch him for that, too, and yell at him, and she wants to hug him because he’s a stupid bloody idiot who won’t let others carry any weight for him even if they offer. because he left.

she can’t punch or hug johnny, right now — or she could, he's here, and maybe she will, but for now, she's punching this bag instead. she really can’t turn back time and make it so that the anomaly or whatever it was never picked her up and spit her out on this ship in a corner of space dutch has never seen or heard of. she can’t, and so she keeps punching the bag, hoping to at least drain some of the anger so that she’ll be able to think more clearly. ]

[ additional starters in the comments! if you'd like something specific, hit me up at

abiosis ]

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[ continued from here as game canon ]

So you're not human? Or just not regular? [ there's a lightly mocking edge to her tone now. she's faced people faster and stronger than average humans before. sixes, who derive their power from parasites in their system that make them cold-hearted killers. not the best of associations, really.

dutch sidesteps his leg swipe and ducks underneath his jabs, returning the favour with fists and elbows flying, always controlled. fighting is almost like dancing, isn't it? ]

Would you believe me if I said I learned in a royal harem?

[ dutch doesn't quite manage to exhaust herself, but she manages to get to a point where most of the angry tension has drained from her shoulders, where her head feels almost clear again. she's been distantly aware of other people coming, training and going on the deck, the way a soldier or a trained killer would be aware of civilians and potential targets in their vicinity, but it isn't until she steps back from the punching bag and looks around that she spots a young man in a position that is familiar to dutch from her dancing lessons in the harem, though the step sequence isn't one she knows.

dancing — it's the one thing she learned in the harem that dutch actually likes and it's the one thing she misses because she hardly ever has the opportunity for it. the last time she'd danced, it had been with d'avin, days after he'd tried to kill her because of the switch in his brain being flipped. it's not the happiest of memories. ]

Mind if I join? [ she asks before she can think better of it. ]

[ sam is a good fighter. he's taller and broader than she is by quite a margin, too, and dutch appreciates the challenge of that. hitting a punching bag is one thing, hitting someone who'll punch back, someone who'll evade and who's quick-minded, that's a different kind of thing and dutch likes it better. there are times when she hates how good it makes her feel to exhaust herself this way, but she's trying not to think of khlyen right now, of all the reasons he taught her to fight and to kill.

dutch wipes sweat from her forehead with a towel before pulling a shirt on over the sports bra and leggins she's been wearing for their sparring session. ]

I could go for a drink and some food right now.

[It's not often that anyone using the training facilities will interrupt him when he's dancing--most likely out of disinterest, he thinks--let alone ask to join in. For a moment, he's left blinking in surprise before a why smile tugs at his lips.]

Um, sure. You're familiar with ballroom dancing?

Not that particular dance.

[ she has plenty of experience with various kinds of dances, though, so she doesn't doubt that she'll be able to pick it up soon enough. ] But I don't think that'll be a problem if you lead.

[ for all that it doesn't apply to the rest of her life: when it comes to dancing, dutch knows how to follow. ] I'm Dutch.

[ While Tony knows that he could probably just use his communicator to figure out where the fuck he was going and what the layout of this ship was, he was a paranoid kind of guy and would rather wander around the place himself and document the ship on his own phone.

You know, for less likely to be skewed maps and whatnot. (Paranoia is an asset, honestly.)

That and he is fairly confident in his ability to keep his phone secure and as un-hackable as possible. Mostly. Maybe. Until he is proven wrong, at least.

Today's adventure was to seek out the training area and perhaps look for the elusive black market that had been mentioned to him in passing. Because, if the first few days were anything to go on, he was sure as hell gonna need some of the stronger alcohol in order to survive this place.

But, perhaps luckily or not, Tony comes across the training area first. And it's occupied. With someone who is really rather angry (not that he knows what kicking the shit out of a punching bag out of bottled up anger looks like, oh no). And, really, he would slowly slink his way out and go in search of alcohol except--

The woman is really fucking pretty. And clearly deadly. And, well, if that doesn't scream a terrible person to flirt with, Tony doesn't even know.

Which means he is shoving his phone in his pocket and wandering into the area with a smirk on his face and a low whistle.]

Would it be more fulfilling if it made pained noises every time you hit it? Because I am pretty sure that if you give me like, ten minutes, I can totally have it do that for you.

[ dutch recognises the look of him, or at least some of that look: appreciative, a little full of himself, probably hiding something behind that smirk because dutch has seen one similar to it one too many times in the mirror not to know that there's always more to the story than confidence bordering on arrogance.

she stops punching, steadying the bag with both hands first and then tipping her hip against it as she crosses her arms once it stays in place. she's still mad at everything and nothing, really, but it's probably not his fault. ]

Yeah? And here I thought you were going to offer to let me punch you until you moan.

[ okay now, he has been here all of five seconds, you don't need to go and pull him apart at the metaphorical seams and putting him in boxes. no matter how much of it is honest to god true. the smirk on his face only twitches at the scrutiny, he is more than used to people looking too close at him.

of course, the smirk falters and turns into an honest to god laugh because, damn, he likes her already.]

Not my usual way of getting off, but if it's going to help you out there with the rage, why the hell not?

[ no. really. why not. he is toeing off his shoes and sliding out of the hideous outfit provided to him on the ship until he is just in the black undersheath from his suit (you'll have to try a little harder than that to see him naked, Dutch, but only a little harder).]

And may I just ask, please don't hit my face, I bruise easily and, despite what a lot of people think, mottled yellow is not a good colour on me.

[ another grin, this one amused but a little curious. ] Also, are you more than human? Because if you are, no judgments on the poor human man okay? I did as much training as possible with the Black Widow as possible, but there are still some things I will never be able to do. Like kill a man with my thighs, though, she did totally try to teach me that.

[ would he prefer it if dutch takes his smirk at face value and doesn't question it? because if he would, that's - fair enough, but she still won't. dutch is too used to analysing situations and people, to finding angles. it's what she's been trained to do almost all her life, and she may have run away from the one who trained her once, but she never quite managed to escape her skill set. ]

How kind of you.

[ dutch watches with interest while he undresses, raising an eyebrow at the black undersheath that doesn't look at all familiar. she doesn't ask, though, just uncrosses her arms and settles into a loosely defensive position. ] All human, and I've never heard of the Black Widow, but I know how to do that, too.

[ a beat, and dutch aims a kick at his side, just to see how he'll react. ] But you'll have to ask very nicely before I demonstrate.

[ well yeah, it would help him sleep at night. (only it won't because Tony can't remember the last time he actually slept like a regular human but, whatever, that is neither here nor there). but whatever, he does his best to not fidget with that look levelled at him, a look he knows all too well thanks to living with the Widow.

of course, beautiful and more than able to kill him. perfect.]

Of course, I have flickering moments of kindness every once in a while, the fact that you are stunning probably helps with the whole being nice thing.

[ at least he is honest. he is also aware of her, even as he kind of absently kicks his clothes over a bit, some of his senses still on her. he remembers the one time he stopped paying attention to Barnes when they were sparring once, that-- yeah that hurt and he learned his lesson well then.] Of course you do, is it a prerequisite in the assassin world? It has to be. That's what Barnes could do it too, assholes need to teach me.

[ nice try. he will block that kick easily, his movements focused more on moving her energy away from him rather than trying to use it against her. ]

I assume saying pretty please isn't nice enough?

Edited (pronouns, what even) 2017-02-12 20:14 (UTC)

[ there are times when dutch can't sleep and ends up bothering johnny or silently sitting in lucy's hangar, staring at the walls, but they're still isolated incidents more than the norm. she's glad for that. can't really stay sharp when you're completely sleep deprived, can you? ]

Who says I'm an assassin? [ he blocks the kick, and dutch falls back for a moment before mounting her next attack, this one a little more serious instead of just testing the water; a series of quick jabs and punches. ] And who's Barnes?

[ there's nothing sweet in her smile. ]

Not even close to enough. Try harder, handsome.

[ if carolina isn't training, she doesn't know what to do with herself. inactive doesn't suit her, so unless she has other plans, she's pretty regular. which means she knows who of the other regulars knows their way around a punching bag and this woman is new.

naturally, carolina wants to challenge her.

she's in her own athletic gear, black with stripes of aqua down the sides of her leggings, matching the elastic at the end of her braided back hair, pausing to watch dutch for a few good hits before she steps around into her frame of vision. ]

Hey, you want something a little more reactive to hit?

[ Tony has long since mastered the art of surviving on three hours of sleep and a few naps. the fact that he also has experimented on himself is-- something else. still, he isn't really more than human, and his lags in attention span are things that are easily fixed by black as sin coffee and sheer spite.

you know, the cornerstones to that which is Tony Stark.

there is a laugh at her question that really isn't a question at all. he manages to either deflect or block most of the punches with his forearms, amusement on his face.] You are, or you used to be. I live with enough of them, I know how they fight and move and look at people. Same way you do.

[ even though he knows that she probably outclasses him (she sure as hell moves faster than him) he knows a few tricks, slides down and swings a leg out going lower than he would if it were Steve or Barnes, but where Nat has told him many a times to hit on women who know what they are doing.] And Barnes is another assassin I know.

[ flash of a smile. oh, he is enjoying this.]

Do you prefer more creative begging or creative positions?

[ Going a few rounds with another person is so much more satisfying than practicing forms or hitting a bag. He does that enough in his spare time. It's nice having someone who can keep up with him. At least, his human strength and speed. Sam doesn't bring his Cylon abilities to sparring.

He glances over at the sound of her voice, pausing in the act of taking a healthy gulp of water. ]

Yeah? Give me time to get a quick shower and change clothes? We can head over and grab something.

[ He'll take that tone. She can believe him or not, it doesn't really matter. It might cause him fewer problems down the line if she doesn't. ]

I wouldn't say I'm ordinary.

[ His quick little smirk gets lost in concentration, while he dodges one elbow and blocks the next. He's fast, maybe faster than he looks like he'd be, yet he's not at top speed. This will be better if he doesn't cheat.

Of course, then she cheats by distracting him. He looks up, startled. ]

You what? [ And then her fist connects, unbalancing him and making him stumble a few steps back. Grinning wryly, he turns back to her, adjusting his jaw. ] Nice hit. I almost thought you were serious.

[ He's back in it now, aiming low and fast while he tries to get her on the back foot. ]

You want me to lead? [He’s thrown for a loop—though she’d asked to join him, he hadn’t thought she’d mean actually join him as his partner. Yuuri rubs at his neck.] I should warn you, I haven’t actually danced this with a partner in a long time. [Sober, at least.]

If you’re sure about this, we could give it a try.. [For the most part, he’s just been messing around with some ballroom choreography when he’s alone. Having a partner to actually dance with could be fun.] I’m Yuuri. [He adds, belatedly.]

[ when kidnapped, it only makes sense to make use of the kidnapper's training facility. bellamy's a quick enough learner to understand he's not going anywhere, and so where he was gearing up to rest after defeating alie, he's now returning to that headspace of needing to fight, win, and survive. rather than taking to a gun and trying to infiltrate buildings he only has blueprints of clarke's own design to go on, he takes to the training facility instead. ]

[ it's eight minutes before the lights will go out and the entire fleet will be thrown into darkness. he stands before a punching bag, finding that it's nothing like training with lincoln. for one, it doesn't punch back. it doesn't grab him and flip him, and teach him that grounders may not be technologically equipped, but they're strong and they're instinctual, even one with their own bodies. his hair sticks to his forehead as his brows furrow, and he loses all momentum within a blink of an eye. he shouldn't be thinking of lincoln, because thinking of lincoln makes him remember he failed his friend, and he failed his own sister. ]

[ it's with a sigh bellamy turns to scoop up his shirt, but finds something else on it. usually he'd pull it free, but bellamy's trying to take lincoln's lessons on board: don't act aggressively, learn your surroundings, perhaps stop being so frowny. (that sounds more like monroe in his head than lincoln.) ] Your stuff's on my shirt.

[ she believes him, but that doesn't mean she has to be impressed. if she can kill a six, she could probably kill a shadowhunter, not that she knows that that's what he's called. okay, maybe she is impressed, but not because he has any special abilities. if she's impressed, it's because he's a skilled fighter, because he keeps up with her easily enough, because dutch appreciates competence. ]

Did you? [ she responds, expression and tone both equally bland.

here's the thing: it wasn't a lie. she's glad he's taken it as a joke, though, because her past is not something dutch is all that happy explaining. instead, she dances away from his attack for a moment before moving into it instead of away, rolling to come up on his other side. ]

I haven't, either. But the worst that'll happen is I step on your toes.

[ and she won't say it, but here's the thing: dutch really, really misses dancing. she misses the ease of it, she misses just moving to the music, and most of all, she misses doing something where the worst thing that can happen really is someone stepping on someone else's toes. (of course, that's not entirely true: torn ligaments are a thing in dance as well, but at least dancing means that for a little while, dutch isn't thinking about killing anyone, much less doing it.) ]

[ dutch has fought and killed people with special abilities, stronger than her and near unkillable — but if she knew about sam's cylon abilities, she'd still be happy enough fighting him without his using them. there's something about a spar with an evenly or closely matched partner, even if dutch might appreciate the challenge of testing herself against those better, stronger and faster than she is at times. ]

So you're saying I have to make myself presentable, too? No stinking up the bar, got it.

[ that's a yes, obviously. ]

[ dutch prefers alcohol to coffee, if she has a choice about it. she prefers sleep to insomnia, too, but it's not like people with insomnia really get a choice about that.

and it should bother her, how easily he's figured it out when even d'avin with all his training could only realise that she's dangerous, not what she was. tony doesn't know her history, he doesn't know about the royal harem of khlyen or any of the things that still make dutch feel lost and scared in ways she wishes she could leave behind forever. it's worse now that she can't even hate khlyen anymore, that she doesn't hate him anymore. but tony says it so casually, without judgement, that dutch finds she doesn't hate the thought of him knowing. ]

Your life must have been interesting so far. [ if he knows two assassins but he's still alive, that promises a story or two. but dutch doesn't ask, or at least not more explicitly than what is already contained in that statement. instead, she moves back, narrowly avoiding his leg. ] Creative positions, hm? Now that sounds promising.

[ dutch finishes the motion, punching the bag one more time even after carolina has entered her field of vision and started talking. she does steady the bag a moment later, though, considering the other woman for a long moment. she looks fit enough. ]

Think you can keep up? [ dutch eventually asks, lips quirking into a grin and the pleased challenge obvious in her tone. ]

[ dutch isn't sure yet whether this is a kidnapping or the universe fucking up big time, but one way or another, she isn't happy about being here and she'd like to leave. seeing how that doesn't seem to be a possibility right now, she's taking her anger out on the punching bags again. she's already accumulated a few people she would't mind sparring with on the regular, provided that there is a regular and she doesn't find a way back to the quad. none of them are here right now, but there is a shirtless guy punching a bag and looking increasingly frustrated, instead of less so. dutch can multitask: she can punch her bag and glance at his chest, shoulders and arms now and then.

eight minutes before the lights will go out, and shirtless guy is addressing her. ]

Sorry. [ dutch is not, in fact, sorry that her stuff is on his shirt, if only because it means he remains shirtless a while longer. she didn't put her stuff there deliberately, but, well. she'll take any win she can. there's enough shit going 'round in this place, starting with the fact that they're in this place in the first place.

point is: she doesn't sound sorry at all. ] Why don't you leave it off and we go a round instead?

[ it's instinct to deny her. bellamy had done the same to monroe when she was pushing herself a little too hard, beating herself up over not quite getting the swing of her arm right or the positioning and weight of her feet. but this woman isn't monroe, because if she was, she wouldn't be looking at him in the way some of the girls still do, despite everything that's come to light and what they've been through. it reminds him of how gina used to look at him, but where there's space, she'd be right up in his. ]

[ still, he thinks to decline. ]

[ he could easily move her stuff and go, but he doesn't. he glances down at it then regards her, and his entire demeanour shifts just slightly. it's not to grumpiness, but to something he hasn't exactly been in what feels like a lifetime: a little playful, if bordering on a decent mood. ]

[ the corners of his lips curve upward, ] And then you'll give me my shirt back?

[ that's almost a smile right there, and dutch's expression shifts in turn to something amused. she hums while she considers, or at least pretends to consider his question. ]

How about I'll give it back if you win.

[ it's not a comment she would have made if his demeanour hadn't shifted, but he doesn't look like he minds, precisely, so she's willing to push just a little further. he'll get his shirt back one way or another; it's not like he couldn't just move her things, after all. but so long as he's willing to play along, well. ]

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OPEN. — i knew that something would always rule me

JACE (estrayer). —

YUURI (yokunaru). —

SAM (andreios). —

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sparring buddies go!!

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SOMETHING WICKED EVENT, let's go!!

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aw yis

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