peace_inthe_violence

This is a fairy tale of blood and bullets
It is the story of three men and three women and a small island between Italy and Africa.
This is a story about tragedy and pain, about healing and hope, but mostly it is about
love.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

transfuge

Booker didn't really feel like mentioning he would always be fighting against ghosts in one way or another. He just chuckled. "I do need the practice. It's been awhile."

The weight of the saber would definitely exhaust his arms and shoulders especially after he spent the morning exhausting them already by boxing. The only way to get back in shape with it would be practice.

And he was not in condition to train with Andy. She would absolutely destroy him.

Joe might be a little more merciful. Maybe. It would entirely depend on Joe's mood this morning.

"How do you want to decide a winner?" he asked as he loosened his shoulders. "And how serious are we sparring? Blood? No blood?"

From:

nicely_tousled

Fighting ghosts was all of them, to some extent, though certainly Booker and Andy more than himself and Nicky, but they still had a few as well. It wasn't worth mentioning, however, not when Booker was actually agreeing.

He made a thoughtful sound at the questions, head tilting from side to side for a moment, "Minimal blood." It was rare that there was actually none, regardless of how they tried, so better to just set that baseline as far as he was concerned, "And five points, or until someone taps out, whichever comes first?" It really was a question, Booker had been out there a while already, and if he didn't think he could make it to five -knowing that neither of them was going to make that easy- Joe would easily accept a different means of determining the winner.

From:

transfuge

"Minimal blood." Booker could agree to that. They weren't using blunted weapon or wooden practice ones. There would be blood no matter how careful they were but they would both pull their stabs and slashes to try and avoid spilling to much.

It would not be a fun morning if someone's guts ended up on the floor of the garage.

"Five points shouldn't be hard. I'm very out of practice." Booker would do his best but Joe had never stopped using his sword. His skills were sharp and ready. Booker would need to warm up a little bit first which would give Joe plenty of opportunities to score points.

He faced off against him and saluted with his saber. "En garde."

From:

nicely_tousled

He flashed a smile, as he usually did, while executing a tidy, well-practiced rotation of his wrist, bringing the sword in his hand around in a full circle plus a little to leave it up in a salute position in turn. It was the kind of movement that would seem casual to someone who didn't know the level of skill and practice that went into it, something that Booker undoubtedly did know, but that was beside the point at the moment.

There had been a time, not so long ago in the grand scheme of things, when the two of them could trade blows thick and fast for a solid five minutes without either of them actually landing a hit. This definitely wasn't going to be one of those, he knew that, but they might work their way back up to it eventually.

For now, he was going to let Booker make the first move, see if he could get a better gauge on just how out of practice he actually was, especially as his comment was, "You can't be that out of practice if you agreed to this."

From:

transfuge

"I'm hoping instinct takes over." They had trained against each other for years and years. Booker really hoped his muscles remembered how to fight and how to wield the saber. If he could trust the instincts then this would be easy to get back into shape.

He went for a strike aiming at the more open left side. Booker was a south paw and he knew how easy it was to forget to compensate for that weaker side. He might as well test and see how Joe was on that side.

It wasn't an attack, but almost a feint. While he got back into practice he would keep taking those cautious steps. It wasn't his usual style. Booker was a bruiser, a force that charged in like a bull.

Joe would have to adapt to that as well.

From:

nicely_tousled

There had been an amused 'ah, of course.' In response to that first answer, and adjusting to training with someone who wasn't Nicky, who even after all this time -or perhaps because of that- rarely if ever pulled his punches.

The caution was a surprise, though perhaps not as much of one as it should have been, though he countered the move easily enough, blocking and turning to protect that side and push Booker's blade aside, though he didn't return the strike just yet, merely flashing a smile, "Have you forgotten that Nicky is not as considerate an opponent as you are?" It was the truth, but also an easy goading, to see if he could shake something further loose from the other man.

From:

transfuge

"Have you noticed I'm not sparring with Nicky?" Booker wanted to get back in to fighting shape not end up dead on the floor within two minutes of picking up a blade.

He didn't have the same confidence in himself that he once had. Booker was going to poke and test, try to see where he could make an opening.

Though when he did it got deflected. Booker pushed his luck one strike and knew he was going to pay for it. But sometimes the risk was worth it, wasn't it? Booker could take a little damage.

Joe shouldn't punish him too much. He wasn't Nicky.

From:

nicely_tousled

"I had noticed that, yes." He replied with a laugh, banter during sparring wasn't new, not really, but he and Nicky were far more evenly matched, and had been from the start, that it made sparring physically and verbally at the same time incredibly difficult.

Which meant that this was a nice change of pace, even as that strike got past his defenses. They had, after all, specified minimal blood and not none, which was why he just tutted, shaking his head, "Oh I see how it is, let me think you're that far out of practice so I give you the advantage, that's just rude." There was nothing in his tone to suggest he was anything other than amused, however, even as he changed tactics himself, actually going on the attack, though not as fiercely as he would have done with another opponent.

From:

transfuge

It wasn't that fierce but it was more than enough to keep Booker on his toes. He did pay for the small slice to Joe's side with an answering one along his hip. Booker hissed through his teeth but managed not to stumble or leave himself even more vulnerable.

They traded blows back and forth the sounds of their swords sharp in the garage.

"You're putting me through the right paces," he panted as he spun away from another blow. "My arms are going to ache tomorrow."

And his shoulders. Probably all of him would ache which would all be in his head since his body healed any tired muscles.

From:

nicely_tousled

That statement got a sharp, half-startled laugh, shaking his head as he just followed the retreat, on the attack once more after having let Booker gain some ground for a short while, "If they're going to ache all the way into tomorrow then I must be doing something right."

He was well aware of the way pains lingered now and again, and he knew it was purely psychological, but that really didn't mean much all in all. Though, for the moment, he doubted that Booker was being entirely serious, even if there was an edge of sincerity there.

From:

transfuge

"You always do," Booker flirted because it was one of his more reliable tactics for throwing off opponents. It had worked great on a gun runner in Peru or a bar fight in Texas. It didn't always work on Joe, however.

They had simply known each other for so long.

Besides, the compliment was genuine. Before Booker started to draw away Joe took good care of him. So did Nicky. So did Andy.

Yeah, he had to be real careful when that darker mindset took over. He might lose this again and that sucked.

From:

nicely_tousled

"And there it is." That warm laughter was still present in his tone, because while the flirting did, sometimes, work to catch him off guard, it was only when he wasn't actually expecting it, and he was almost always expecting it at a time like this, "We're at what? Seven minutes? I think that's a new record for you."

He didn't think they'd actually been at it quite that long, but it was an exaggeration for humor's sake, but also for a tease of a flirt in return, which was, of course, more or less exactly how he'd intended it to be taken.

From:

transfuge

"Seven minutes? I'm getting sloppy." Booker shook his head, his bangs falling into his face for a moment before he had to toss his head back. "I definitely should've flirted sooner than that. Before you could expect it. Though, looking like that I bet you're always expecting it."

That was just wild flattery and meant more to make Joe laugh than actually seduce him. His heart raced from the practice and fuck, he was happy. Joe was his best friend and it was times like these when their humor lined up so perfectly that he felt it so strongly.

It was hard to believe he'd been in such a dark place when he felt this good.

From:

nicely_tousled

It definitely earned him another laugh, "Alright, alright, no need to lay it on that thick, it's almost like you think I don't know when you're lying."

The fact that he hadn't been was inconsequential at the moment, aside from being likewise more teasing on Joe's part in return, "You're right on one thing, though, you are getting sloppy." A nod of his own head to indicate that toss of bangs even as he feinted another strike to see how well Booker was still paying attention, "About time for a trim."

From:

transfuge

Booker was paying attention but he was also laughing so he caught the blade just barely, getting nicked on the arm. Joe was definitely going to win this one but it didn't bother him that much.

"Are you offering to clean it up for me?" Booker shook his arm out as the wound healed. It still tingled and stung a little bit while it healed. "Because the sides really need to get trimmed too."

He used to have a nice fade before. It was a messy thing now.

From:

nicely_tousled

"I wasn't not offering." He replied, because it was true, it had been one of those things he floated to see if anyone actually needed it before actually committing to it, "Might need a new electric clipper, pretty sure the one we have is still the one from, what was it? '53?"

The fact that the thing would probably still work was beside the point, just because it worked didn't mean they should be using it.

From:

transfuge

"Maybe after you're done kicking my ass here." Booker would trust ancient clippers. The worst they might take off too much hair or cut him but both of those problems would be solved with time.

Booker pushed the attack again ignoring any sort of hair that got in his way. "You could always use a sharp blade if you're worried about them."

He should worry about his appearance more. It was one of those things that fell by the wayside when darkness took him.

From:

nicely_tousled

"Now that I am out of practice with." He replied, "Though the shears may still be in a drawer, and those will work just as well."

Another laugh followed, however, as he circled back to Booker's initial point, "And I've hardly gone that hard." Though his counterpoint to that attack was a little firmer and much more intent than the last had been, "But I could, if you like. Just so you can tell the difference."

From:

transfuge

Out of practice, Booker's ass. Joe was still quick and forceful. He hadn't lost a single inch of skill. The focus and intent fully on him now made Booker shift his attention away from quips and teasing to make sure he didn't get sliced open too badly.

The cuts were healed, of course, seconds after they happened but they still fucking hurt. These weren't practice swords.

"You have been much harder on me in the past." Okay, he wasn't giving up the teasing fully. It just wasn't in Booker's nature.

From:

nicely_tousled

Using a sword for grooming was a skill he'd let fall by the wayside, there were better ways to do that now. Using a sword as a sword was a skill he'd held onto, no reason not to.

"I have, probably will again if you ask nicely." He replied, only barely managing to keep his smile in check, though he did manage not to laugh aloud, but the amusement was definitely still there all the same.

From:

transfuge

They fight for a few more minutes with Booker clearly the loser in the whole thing. The final blow slices across his chest lightly but that's what he gets for not wearing a shirt while they do this.

"Alright, alright, alright," Booker said as he raised a hand and signaled for the training to end. His wound was healed before he even finished the words. They had done a good job of keeping the injuries light, no need to regrow tendons or wait for guts to roll back in.

Booker felt the ache in his arms and shoulders though. He had a better handle on his saber but he would really need to practice more. Luckily, they were on vacation and he would have the time.

"Not bad for years of no practice." He offered a grin in Joe's direction. "Right?"

From:

nicely_tousled

"Not bad for decades out of practice." He replied, "But just alright for years without." It was absolutely a tease, but one of the ones that had a kernel of truth to it, and that was because Booker had asked, and Joe was nothing if not truthful in his opinions.

He rolled a shoulder, an easy stretch, "I did have to put some actual effort in." Which he hadn't been expecting, though he wasn't going to say as much, "So maybe not that bad for years, either."

From:

transfuge

Booker sat down on a bench and stretched his arms over his head. He rested the saber next to him and would clean it in a minute when he caught his breath.

"As long as I can test you still, that's worth something." He picked up a water bottle and drank deeply for a few swallows before he held it out to Joe. "Want to keep helping me get in shape? At least until I can take on Nicky."

And once he could fight Nicky and win, Booker could then move on to Andy. That was a sure way to get himself back into fighting shape.

From:

nicely_tousled

He laughed warmly at the question, even as he accepted the water, taking a long drink himself before answering, "Working your way up the food chain, smart thinking."

A nod followed, handing the water back, "But I can get you back up to being ready to take Nicky on for sure."

From:

transfuge

"I'm the brains of the operation," he said with a little smirk. Booker did have a fairly tactical mind but this was simple logic. Start with a sword fighter willing to take mercy on him and work his way up the chain of ruthlessness.

He bows his head forward to pour some water across the back of his neck and then rub it across his shoulder. He immediately felt cooler and breathed a little easier. "...thank you. For more than the training. I know I haven't been myself for... a long time."

And his friend stuck with him. Still cared about him. Booker was grateful. Touched. There was a lot.