HWA Message Board: Sparring

The scene opens out onto the foyer of the HWA Academy.

It’s mid morning and the footfall has gone through the morning rush as staff and trainees arrive for meetings and courses. Midday will see an explosion of movement as those in the building make their ways to the canteen or to the gym, but that’s a way off yet.

Into the foyer steps Hans ‘The Baron’ von Richtoven alongside one of the onsite consultants that the HWA employs.

They come to a stop, Hans grasping the others hand in his.

(Hans): Danke Herr doctor.

(Doctor): Not a problem Hans. I’d say it’s a pleasure, but let’s not kid ourselves. Remember, take it easy today, ramp up accordingly and if there’s any vision concerns, flag it with me immediately.

(Hans): Jah, of course.

(Doctor): Right, I’ll go file this clearance upstairs and inform the relevant parties.

Another hand shake occurs before the doctor departs and makes his way through one of the doors leading towards the medical facilities in the Academy.

Watching him depart, Hans then glances at his watch and then towards the doors leading to the outside.

(Hans): Where is she?

He’d finished his medical evaluation in good time, made pleasantries with the doctor and then made his way to where he now stands so as to meet with his tag partner for the upcoming Havoc.

Another glance at his watch.

(Hans): Sheiße…

It’s a low mutter almost under his breath. Second thoughts erupting with renewed fervour.

But he’d had her accept.

And they’d arranged to train.

So where was she?

Erica enters the 1st floor of the Academy. Numerous eyes move in her direction, and she feels more put on the spot than normal but doesn’t return the glares as she normally would. Her mind is on Hans. Still some trepidation about this decision as she scans the room for him. She spots him across the way. There remained an undeniable attraction, despite everything that had transpired between them.

She walked in his direction, and the two make eye contact as she approaches. She could run and jump into his arms smothering him with kisses, and at the same time she could run and jump onto him, then bite his nose of and spit it in his face. Her face displays neither passion or a look of retaliation. She stops a few feet from him, folds her arms and looks him up and down.

(Erica): Well, I’m here. Now what?

Hans maintains eye contact with her, resisting the temptation to look at anyone else currently reacting to Erica’s presence in the Academy.

Those concerns that had surfaced are placed away carefully.

He nods towards the doors that she’d entered through.

(Hans): How was the traffic?

A look of indifference is the response.

Hans doesn’t outwardly react negatively, merely gesturing towards the corridor leading to the gym and training facilities.

(Hans): This way then. Sooner we start, the better, jah?

She eyes him suspiciously. The skepticism in her eyes becoming apparent, but says nothing as he leads the way to a reserved room. There's a solo ring in the room used for private training, away from the eyes of the academy. The motion-sensor lights turn on as Hans enters the door and goes towards the ring. Erica drops her bag next to the steps and rolls inside.

She winces, and lets out a slight grunt trying her best to conceal the both. She'd taken some serious pain meds before walking in but they hadn't kicked in yet. He probably didn't notice. If she can get through this and fool him, then she'll fool everyone else at Havoc. Hans looked so casual, like he did to her at the beginning. Like a mentor, a trainer welcoming his student. He had to be hiding something too., she thought. Even Michelle's prissy ass couldn't be that goddamn forgiving. She looks at him as he begins to warm up.

(Erica): You playing me?

She looks around, once again expecting some ruse. Someone or a group of people ready to jump out.

(Erica): I told you...if you're fuking with me...I swear to God.

(Hans): Nein.

Shaking his head, Hans turns and slides under the bottom rope of the ring, getting to his feet in a smooth, well practiced motion.

He looks back at her.

(Hans): Nein Erica, no games.

Pointing at the four corners of the room in turn as he continues to speak, he draws her attention towards what is there.

(Hans): Cameras, jah. Not just for mine... not just for yours... For our safety. No games.

Rotating his shoulders, he begins to loosen up ahead of the sparring.

(Hans): Butch und Wisdom... Matthew... mein frau...

For all his composure, as he mentions his wife there is an edge to his voice, a hint of what he's keeping a tight lid on from re-emerging.

(Hans): … they don't understand. But they have accepted in their own ways. I believe in second chances, I was given one before by them und who would I be if I denied someone else that... so nein Erica, there are no games.

He crosses back over to the side of the ring closest to her, looking down at her and through gritted teeth adds.

(Hans): But if you throw that back... if you are f*cking with me. We'll see who God listens to.

Hans's words had some bite. She liked that, respected that, but a girl like her...when your used to the world dumping on you...it's not her who needs a second chance...it's everyone else and she didn't know how to give it, and even if she did...didn't know if she would. She just looks at him, and nods in a "We'll see" sort of fashion.

(Erica): So what do you have in mind here then? I don't care about his mystery bitch, but I'm ready to rip Wolfy's fuking face off so what you got?

(Hans): It's wrestling, we're not brawling in the colosseum, jah?

He holds out a palm, stopping himself.

A low sigh vents from his pursed lips, puffing out his cheeks as it does so.

(Hans): Wolfy ist… different. He has rudiments und heart, but he has more. He has anger... like you...

(Erica): Fuk his anger, lets get in there and bust his ass. I've been waiting for this Hans. His "Skinky Skank" bullshit. It's time he gets that shit shoved down his throat.

Erica bounces on her heels, starting to feel her meds kick in and pain subside a bit. She's getting hyped up thinking about getting her hands on Wolfy.

(Hans): Jah, his nickname for you... I can see how it would grate...

He makes an amused noise at the back of his throat.

(Hans): Kindisch aber.

He sees her confusion.

(Hans): Childish. I said it was childish.

(Erica): So how are we gonna do this? How about you get him in that ankle lock and break it like you did mine, and I'll hit a Gota de Luna or a Hail Mary or both and then...

She pulls a new butterfly knife from her pocket and flicks it open.

(Erica): ….then after her taps I'll cut his fuking lips off so he can't talk shit anymore.

Hans stares at the knife with a look of disappointment emerging.

With an almost resigned tone to his voice, he gestures for her to put it back in her pocket.

(Hans): Nein Erica, sheiße… put that away. You hit you Gota de Luna, Hail Mary… whatever… then you’ll pin him, or whoever his tag partner is… then you’ll pin them and walk up that ramp knowing you were better than him on the night.

His arms go wide.

(Hans): What happened to sticks und stones can break my bones but words can never hurt me, jah?

She rolls her eyes putting the knife away.

(Erica): Don't give me that Mr. Miyagi shit, words can hurt more than anything.

Suddenly she's snapped back a few years. She's racing from work to hospital after getting a distressed call from her mother about her father. She didn't arrive in time to see her father depart this world, and in her distress went out into the hall for a quick breather to hear nurses talking. "We get 'these people' all the time" one said. "Did he have insurance? said the other? "What do you think?" said the nurse. So callous, so dismissive her tone and the chuckle the shared as if her father's life was a joke. She quickly shakes her head, flipping her hair as if casting the fleeting thought off.

(Erica): Let's get on with it then.

Hans gestures for her to join him in the ring, stepping back a few paces to give her room to enter through the ropes.

(Hans): Words do hurt Erica, jah. But something like out a nursery rhyme?

He again clamps down.

The next words aren't forced out, but they can't have been easy to say either.

(Hans): You're better than that. Herr Chaos calls me a Nazi... I've yet to pull a blade on him.

Another pause, as he again holds up a palm, a conciliatory tone entering his voice.

(Hans): But consider this, he won't expect you to be calculated und tactical in this match. You want to win? This is the game we need to play Erica.

(Erica): I don't want to talk about Maniac.

She blurts out without thinking, a knee-jerk reaction to him being mentioned. It was certainly more than a sore spot for her and her hand involuntarily reaches at the wound beneath her top.

(Erica): We don't need to play any games. It's not like Wolfy has any real wrestling talent. He's wrangles animals for a living and you went and got him signed up just like that. It took me...

She pauses...she didn't want to go down this path of remembering the others and all the hurdles it took her to get her while they eased along.

(Erica): Never mind, lets just get to it. What are we going? Submissions stuff? Some grappling?

Her guard was still up. This second chance, Mr. Nice Guy routine wasn't going to win her over but for the moment it was best to play along. If anyone could help her get even with Wolfy...it was Hans, so for the moment she'd follow his lead. She got in a fighting stance and looked at him hurriedly.

(Erica): Well? We doing this or not? Vamanos!

Hans drops down into position to begin, mirroring her own.

He makes a ‘come here’ motion with one hand, as the scene fades to black slowly.