fandomhighdorms | Salle, Wednesday Midday

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Salle, Wednesday Midday

Romeo wasn't sure why Reno even wanted to speak to him, or if he felt like speaking to Reno in turn. His best friend's words from Sunday tangled with his own and sat like a knot in his stomach, and if Reno were to try to kill him with the rod, he would not blame him.

But they'd made a plan, and so Romeo was there in the Salle. Waiting and, somehow, almost hopeful.

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It definitely would, especially since Romeo had no clue how to block it. His feeble effort arrived after the baton had already hit his shoulder, and the side of his body sagged under the weight of the blow.

Reno winced, and then sighed. That hadn't gone quite how he'd hoped.

"That could'a gone better," he noted, returning his baton to rest on his shoulder again. "Here's another pointer for you, man. The best way to not get smacked around? Is to just not be there in the first place. Dodge an' block. Wanna try that, instead? You okay?"

"Fine," Romeo said through clenched teeth, rotating the shoulder. "It's better than a broken nose. I'm only used to guns and fists, so this is different."

"When someone's swingin' a fist for your face, what do you do?"

Because Reno was already unclipping his baton from his wristband, here.

Romeo did the same. "Try to hit him first, or to dodge if it's too late," he said.

Because, really, everyone knew that.

Reno pointed a finger at Romeo as he let his own baton clatter to the floor.

"You. Keep it on. I ain't standin' here teachin' you how to punch an' kick. You wanna learn that, tell me when you can block a punch with the stick."

His expression was very, 'do not fuck with me,' just then.

"I know how to punch," Romeo grumbled, but did as he was told. It was hard not to, when Reno was giving him that kind of look. "I'm here to learn, Reno. Teach me."

Reno looked Romeo over skeptically before nodding and kicking his own EMR so that it rolled out of the way.

"You can punch. You're standin' there with a stun baton, though it ain't got no Materia in it. It's a metal stick. Which means you can theoretically hit me harder'n I can hit you right now."

He rocked on his heels a few times, and then he was grinning again.

"Okay. So try an' hit me, zoto. Promise I'll move this time."

"Promise?" Romeo asked, but he didn't really give Reno a chance to answer before he swung out. There was some stiff tentativeness in the motion, but less.

Reno ducked out of the way of the baton in a redheaded blur, and then stood up straight again, grinning.

"Promise, zoto."

And yes, that was said with his usual air of cockiness and the sort of smile that most people typically wanted to smack clean off his face.

Romeo frowned in concentration, then swung again, aiming at Reno's knees. "Good," he said.

Making him stop smiling did have its appeal.

Reno happened to be fond of his knees, so he backpedaled just enough to let the baton graze the fabric of his pant legs, and then stepped forward again, reaching for the arm that was holding the baton. Not for any particular reason, really. Just because he was curious how Romeo would react if he happened to be able to grab his weapon hand.

Romeo managed to step backward quickly enough that Reno's hand touched his sleeve, but nothing more. Breathing hard, he swung forward, trying to swat the arm away.

The baton hit Reno's arm with a solid thump, prompting Reno to dance backward again, giving his hand a bit of a shake to work the feeling back into it.

"See, man? It's a matter of not bein' there. Makes all the difference, yo!"

Really, this was an excellent opportunity for Reno to lunge forward, fist aimed for Romeo's chest.

The fist connected, and Romeo could only make a weak effort at swatting Reno's arm away with the baton. "So if I hadn't been there just then," he said. "My chest would hurt less now."

He was a genius.

Reno sighed, taking a step back and giving his head a nod.

"Pretty much, yeah," he agreed, and then he crossed his arms over his chest. "Man, we got a lotta work ahead of us, don't we? Maybe you'll get lucky and turn out to be some kinda Blizzaga prodigy once your Materia comes in, man."

Okay, now Romeo was getting mad. "I am completely new to this," he said, sounding a little injured. "You've been training since you were a child. It's hardly a fair match."

Edited 2009-03-04 03:11 (UTC)

Reno sighed.

"I ain't sayin' you're bad at this, Romeo," he mumbled. "I'm just rememberin' the guy I went up against, when we all went on that job for Doji. He didn't even have to throw a punch an' he had me on my face on the floor, zoto. You wanna get pissed off at me for tellin' you we got room for improvement, or you wanna survive next time you run into another Tony whatsisface? Them guys ain't gonna care how much experience you got."

Fair enough. Romeo took a gulping breath to clear his head. "I want to get better," he said. "I'm sorry. Show me."

Reno nodded, arms falling to his sides again.

"Okay. Hit me. I won't punch back for the time bein', but I can't promise I'm gonna stay still long enough to get hit. Don't get upset if I ain't there when you swing, yo. Most people still would be."

And then, because he kind of did feel bad for making Romeo feel inferior somehow...

"And I mean it about that Materia thing, you know. Some people are just better with throwin' the spells than they are with swingin' the weapons. You cast Thundaga pretty good in the preserve that day. Maybe it'll be easier on you'n this is, yo."

Romeo was mollified; he pushed his hair back and set his shoulders again. "I'd like to get good with this even without Materia," he ventured. "There's no guarantee I'll be able to get Materia, after ..."

Graduation. The scary thing.

"After a while," he finished, and he was going to swing the baton at Reno's stomach so he didn't have to think.

Graduation was a way, way scary thing, and while the word hadn't been said, Reno kind of figured that was what the conversation was leading to anyhow. He twisted out of the way of the baton, and then held up one hand.

"Write me, I'll send you whatever the hell you ask for, so long as I'm in Gaia, yo. And if I ain't, I'll bitch at Rude until he digs it up for you instead."

He put his hand down, and then pointed at the rod. "Remember how you were holdin' that before? Like a baseball bat? Don't hold it like that, but you know where a batter'll hold the bat while he's waitin' for a pitch, right?"

"Like this?" Romeo asked, twisting his hands into the appropriate position. "And Of course I'll write. You won't get rid of me."

"Good. I might have to come after you or somethin', yo." He eyed the way Romeo was holding the baton, and then he turned his gaze to Romeo. "You know why a batter'll hold it back there like that, instead of swingin' from somewhere by his knees?"

"I have no idea," Romeo admitted. "I played a bit in school, but never enough to get good at it."

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