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Aberrant: StarGate Atlantis - School of Hard Knocks

Dawn OOC

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It had started fairly innocently. Tayla of the Athosians had approached Yseult with an offer the brawny sergeant couldn’t refuse – namely, the chance to beat the hell out of aliens and have get invitations to have some of their frou-frou wine later. Also, Tayla looked like she knew what she was doing, so her offer to teach Yseult some of the Athosian fighting style in exchange for learning “Canadian martial skills.” It took Yseult an hour to explain why her styles weren’t Canadian and then the various countries of Earth. Fortunately, Tayla was a quick learner.

That hour of explanation had revealed something else to Tayla. “People on your planet don’t learn to defend themselves?”

“We don’t have the problems with the Wraith,” Yseult pointed out.

“Is your world that safe?” the caramel-skinned alien asked.

Yseult considered it for a moment, then said, “No, actually, I guess it isn’t.”

That exchange had led to Tayla offering to teach any of the Terrains who wanted self-defense. Then, according to the rumor mill, Tayla went out and badgered some women into joining them. So it was a group of about twenty women waiting for Yseult when she arrived. Some were young Althosians, no older than twelve. But most were women who had come with them to Atlantis – tiny Wei Fu with the glasses larger than her face; awkward coltish Rebecca from the Biology Division; and lamed Olivia, their stowaway.

Tayla smiled at Yseult. “Good first class. Shall I start, or would you want to?”

Click to reveal..
This is open to anyone, male or female, who'd like to have fun in an IC fic that will be an excuse to raise the fighting skills or physical atties with xp.
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"Oh, sure, this lot shows some promise," Yseult agreed with a wry smirk.

Actually, the Athosians didn't look half bad. If not having the wiry builds she remembered from her gymnastics days, they at least all looked healthy and active, unlike the preponderance of pasty fat kids back home. And representing Earth, she had the Blind, the Klutz, and the Lame. This was going to be ugly as all sin. Or...

Her smirk grew fierce. The possibility of making these deficient women, if not competent, at least able to go down fighting while inflicting some damage, was a challenge that was beginning to amuse her. Well, at least until she saw what she was dealing with. Maybe, if we turn this into a regular thing, I'll get Inoae involved. Maybe she'll grow a little spine...

That was one thing that really impressed her about the Athosians. They all valued learning to defend themselves. She was pretty sure if she told Teyla that back home many saw learning to take and throw a punch as barbaric and beneath them, she'd look at her in pity and disgust, for which she wouldn't have blamed her.

"Go first, Teyla. Only lessons I taught usually left the students unconscious. I think I need to see someone using a softer touch before I try to show these girls what's what in bringing a man to his knees." The glint in her wintry eyes wasn't all playful. Besides, I wanna see what you got, first.

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Inoae padded into the room, her unerring talent of tracking Yseult still functionally irritatingly well. Instead of clinging to the Canadian woman, the blonde waif waited at the edges of the room; her hands clasped behind her as she watched the women with curiosity. The other women there leaned away from her unconsciously, worried about her delicate mental state and any sort of advanced Lantean powers she might have.

Eventually she slid to the ground, gracefully taking up a cross-legged seat and giving her a better angle to see how the women moved and how the combat was actually proceeding. Unlike her usual shy, endlessly retiring attitude, she watched the women spar with a keen interest and a sharp eye.

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Olivia still wasn't sure what she was doing here. Telya and some of the other Althosians had pestered her until she had relented. She didn't want to admit that some dark part of herself was interested in learning how to hurt Hatchins.

The dark-skinned woman told herself that she was here because the Althosians had welcomed her with open arms and you did things like this for friends. So here she was, uneasy with this idea.

And Yseult was here. Olivia swallowed a sigh. She was going to be nice to the woman; she wasn't all bad. But she was a lot bad, to the overly refined scientist. The realization that Dom would love her brought a combined smile and grimace to her face.

Yseult and Telya conferred quietly; then Teyla clearly accepted the floor. "I know that many of you do not know how to fight," Teyla said. "We will begin simply, then. I need a volunteer."

One of the Althosian girls pushed Olivia in the small of the back. Olivia stumbled forward, arms going wide to help catch her balance. She straightened and turned, eyes narrowed in anger, but Telya's voice stopped her. "Olivia. Excellent. Come here."

Great. I'm the punching bag. With a wary look, Olivia limped to the front of the class.

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Teyla smiled at Olivia encouragingly, trying to let her know that it would be alright. Not that she was sure of that anymore; it was hard to tell if the Canadian was joking about hurting people in a training session or not. Still, she focused on the lesson at hand and would do her best to keep people from getting hurt. These people had been taught to be timid and beating them up wouldn’t help them to be bold.

“I understand that your culture doesn’t value physical conflict,” Telya said. She had envied them that – a world where their only enemy was themselves. “Here, in the Pegasus Galaxy, you will need it. Even a scientist needs to fight, sometimes.” She laid a hand on Olivia’s arm.

“We will start with a punch,” Telya began. “Women generally prefer to kick because their legs are stronger and longer than their arms, but kicks take longer. Because you will not always be able to hit with the force of a man, you will learn to hit smarter.”

A woman with massive eye aids raised her and asked, “But… what happens when a man knows to hit smart?”

Teyla smiled. “We’ll deal with that,” she said, “in a later lesson. For now, you must walk before you can run.”

She faced Olivia and held up her hands. “Olivia, please punch my palm.” Hesitantly, the woman did. Telya caught her fist and stopped her. “Good first try but your stance is off. Here.” Teyla spent the next five minutes demonstrating the proper way to throw a solid punch. “Now, I want everyone to do that. Make your movements slow. Yseult, would you walk the room with me and correct any errors?”

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Inoae's eye's flicked over to Yseult's, silently asking if she was to be included in the exercise. She looked almost eager, though the high-strung rabbit-like air still clung around her. Teyla was regarded with mild confusion. She was pretty sure that Teyla was the leader of the Athosians, and so maybe kind of like a queen, but the Athosians were food. They weren't even given the option of service to the hive after the incident some time ago where one of them bit off the nose and fingers of a male while being presented to the queen.

She waited patiently in her almost lotus position for Yseult to decide if she would spar or not.

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Huh. Though she kept the majority of her attention on the potential students and Teyla, Yseult noticed Inoae slip inside the room. Other than a fluttered eyelid, she hid her surprise behind a coolly amused facade. Her waif-like shadow wasn't showing her habitual expression of eerily content submission, rather she seemed...almost enthusiastic about the prospect of learning to defend herself. Maybe this will be easier than I thought... Merde! Who am I kidding?

Watching Teyla demonstrate with Olivia the stowaway, the brawny woman snorted softly. It was always the same thing she saw when most women first learned to defend themselves, the hesitation. It was also their biggest problem to overcome. Unconsciously, her hand closed into a tight fist. She didn't understand why - when you were fighting, for real, to defend or take, you played for keeps. Half measures just got you hurt or killed, and sometimes, those around you.

When Teyla asked her to circulate to help demonstrate proper technique, she nodded assent. "Let's see how deft these girls are at picking up the very basics." The two women warriors conferred a bit first - though the basic stance for both their styles was very similar, there were minor quirks between them - and they quickly arrived at a suitable compromise so they wouldn't be impeding further lessons. Then they began making their rounds.

Yseult turned, lips tightening as she considered the ethereal young - but not-young - woman poised at the edge of the room, who somehow emanated a restless eagerness despite her patient, cross-legged stance. Might as well get her started and see if she has what it takes to continue. Yseult nodded at her, beckoning with a pair of curling fingers.

Inoae popped to her feet and scampered to her Yseult Moreau's side as if reeled in on a fishing line, pleased to participate in something that the dark-haired soldier appeared to enjoy. Yseult's lips curled up in a smirk.

"Okay, let's see your stance, Inoae," Yseult asked.

Inoae obeyed the perceived order with alacrity, moving with a lithe grace and more confidence then she had shown to date, which was to say, she wasn't staring at her feet or looking like she was ready to be whipped. "It is like this, Yseult Moreau?" she asked with hesitant pride, hands up, with open palms and hooked fingers. She stood in an oddly wide stance.

"Yeaaaah, sorta, not really," Yseult began, then paused, cocking her head, puzzled. Looks reminiscent to Tiger Claw Kung Fu. Totally doesn't suit her build or strength. She learned this from the Wraith? I'm surprised she even knows how to fight, even to a limited degree. "Hmm, I suppose that is a style, but not a good one for you, Inoae. It usually takes more strength than you have. Here, we're going to show you another way to fight that doesn't require as much sheer strength."

The tall woman stalked behind her inadvertent charge, her strong hands sliding up Inoae's arms, adjust her posture and stance, at foot nudging her legs into the proper position. "Get your hands higher, a little closer together. Closed fists, thumbs outside your fingers. Move your back foot back, perpendicular to the front - the other way, toes pointing to the side. Better. Good enough."

It was going to take some effort, Yseult believed. Inoae had been trained, she could tell that, but from what she could see, it was a hand-to-hand system designed for a race that stood at least a foot taller, with considerably more strength. She'd have to unlearn some of her prior in-grained movements and techniques to prevent forming bad habits.

Yseult moved back in front of Inoae, crouching slightly and holding up an open palm, pointing at it with the fingers of her other hand. "Now, strike, right here, Inoae." Inoae nibbled on a lip with diffident uncertainty and Yseult's pale blue eyes hardened. "Don't hesitate. Now, strike!"

And she did. With a completely out-of-character confidence. If it wasn't a hard punch, and more than a little sloppy - it had moved downward, most likely as a consequence of the clawing motions she was more used to - the fist still hit her palm with a distinct smack.

"What the fuck?" Yseult scowled at the smaller woman, surprised by her "Guess you learned some things from the Wraith after all. Too bad it doesn't work for you very well. Let me show you."

Yseult moved behind Inoae once more to guide her through the motions. "You want to push off your back foot here, you'll get considerably more power behind it. Now as your hand and shoulder move forward, rotate your fist inward until your knuckles are horizontal, like this. The torque adds more force and penetrating power. And punch straight, not downward. We'll get to clawing and twisting techniques later, if you have the will and want the skill."

Yseult guided her through the motions several times, ignoring the warmth of her slender figure pressed so close, then moved back in front of her, palm held up. "Now... Strike! Again! Again! Again! You're extending too soon. Focus on a point behind the surface of my hand. Now... Again! Again! Better."

And it really was. Inoae was a quick study and if nothing else, she took direction well... which was better than what many could do.

"Inoae, keep practicing - maybe try the other hand, see if that is more comfortable for you. I'm going to see to the others. I'll come back to start you on the next lesson." Giving her a direct look to make sure she understood, Yseult moved off, helping the others with their posture and technique.

Avoiding the impaired squints from Earth, the well-muscled woman focused more on the younger Athosian girls. And to her immense surprise, she actually began enjoying herself. Instead of being snot-nosed shits, they actually paid attention. And even if they giggled and laughed, the girls still understood the seriousness of what they were learning. It sort of reminded her of her gymnastic days, the combination of play and focused training. Except she was more than a half a foot taller, now.

She was unaware of the faint, genuine smile gracing her lips.

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"Yseult," Telya called. The brawny Canadian stepped away from Inoae, who deflated a little now that she wasn't the center of her Keeper's attention. The Althosian woman leaned close and murmured, "I do not know how your people do this, but we start our warriors sparring immediately. I would like to pair the ones with some experience with those that have none and have them work together. We believe that through teaching, you learn as much as being the student. Do you agree?"

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"Agreed," Yseult said with a wry grin. Civilian training programs had an avid fear of lawsuits. Military martial art training was harder, harsher, but even there, the PC Police tried to stick their nose in. Personally, she believed a few lumps helped drive the lesson home. "I like that idea."

The two warrior women from differing galaxies began circulating, pairing the students up after quick but insightful perusals of their aptitude so their wasn't too big of a disparity. Making her way back, Yseult found Inoae almost bouncing on her toes, eager for her attention. She rubbed her lips with a finger, considering who to pair up with her unwanted charge. She has some talent, if an unorthodox one. Hmmm...

Her gaze fell in the figure slouching on one side of the room and her icy blue eyes glittered with perverse merriment. This could be fun... Maybe a little ugly...

"Doctor Stowaway! Not time to rest yet. You get to partner up with the Lantean." Olivia couldn't help but think the big woman sounded entirely too cheerful, but Inoae looked peaked and enthusiastic.

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"Ahh that's the military for you. No training is complete without them trying to degrade you in some way. Doesn't matter the country, it's always the same. I thought you Canadians had a bit more respect, but listening to you and Mckay, one wonders where anyone got that impression." Dylan had been passing by and decided to lean against the door quietly and watch. He had been curious about the Ithosian combat styles. From what he had already seen of the wraith he figured it had to be a fairly effective martial art to allow anyone to fight on anywhere near an equal level.

He would have to ask Teyla for a advanced demonstration at some point. Still his comment was not entirely humorous. Both Ysuelt and Mckay had been getting on his nerves lately with their attitudes. It was bad enough having to deal with being stranded in another galaxy, but being stuck with those that acted like they would be better off if no one else was around was doing nothing to make life easier for others.

"I guess its not entirely your fault that training of yours didn't include the proper manners of speaking to even civilians by name and rank. It's Dr. Jenings-Izumi, Sergeant."

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Olivia wasn’t sure why she let them talk her into this. She knew that she couldn’t fight, not with this damned knee. And on top of that, it allowed Yseult to badger and bully her under the pretext of fighting. What had Olivia ever done to that woman? Sometimes she seemed almost like she was interested in Olivia; other times like she hated her. Olivia just couldn’t figure her out.

But whoever this new person was, he seemed to know and dislike Yseult quite a bit. Or maybe not – it was a little hard to read the situation.

She wasn’t given long to contemplate; Teyla pulled her to the side with a smile. “You are matched with Inoae,” she said, gesturing to the Lantan. Many of the Lantans weren’t sure what to make of the broken girl; Telya seemed determined to treat her like she treated everyone else on Atlantis.

“Oh, yay,” Olivia sighed, wondering if Yseult had been pairing gimp to broken. Regardless, she was going to have to spar with a mental and emotionally damaged child. Olivia could think of fewer partners she’d wish to spare with, personally.

She stood in front of Inoae and asked, “Ready?” She still had half-an-ear on the confrontation happening across the room though- that was much more interesting than this.

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Yseult tensed, scowling over her shoulder at the voice nagging from the entrance, her icy eyes narrowing as she stalked towards her husband. Her teeth-baring grin was malicious as she leaned close, pressing him outside the room.

"Listen you shit, does this look like Tea-time to you?" the large woman growled in a low tone. "We're teaching girls to fight and defend themselves and I don't coddle. The Athosians, now they seem to have the right attitude, they know this can save their lives, so I don't mind if they giggle. Back home, know what the biggest problem is teaching woman - men too, really - to fight is? It's not learning the moves. It's actually having the will to throw a punch when the fight it for real. Most people freeze, even people who have studied martial arts for years in the safety of a dojo."

Rigid fingers poked him in the chest. "So if I have to get Olivia's dander up a bit so she actually makes an effort, I will. There is actually a reason for what the military does during training - it takes a certain mindset to be willing to take a life or to risk your own." Yseult gave a contemptuous snort. "The Americans just go to far, most of the time - they break recruits down without building them back up again. So if the good doctor can't take some light-handed abuse designed to save her Goddamned life, when a man decides to bend her over against her will, she might as well learn to enjoy it."

Yseult straightened her broad shoulders and turned back to the class, flashing Dylan a cruelly amused smile. "Now, this is woman time, so unless you want me to rip your balls off so you can join in the fun... fuck off."

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"Just remember, if the military's tactics for training worked on everyone then everyone would be trained that way. Martial artist are also trained to be deadly fighters without ever being insulted or degraded. She isn't military nor has she ever shown a wish to be. You are not going to make her ready to fight the wraith by putting her down. Scientist are about logic, you need to convince her that she is capable, and she will be.

You really want to show her what she could learn to do? Why don't we give them all a demonstration?" Dylan couldn't keep the grin off his face. He was mad at the woman but a chance to spar with her was too good to pass up. She would probably win, but it would sure be fun to put her on her ass at least once.

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Her Ysuelt Moreau had told her to fight. She'd used a strange word for it, but Inoae understood well enough. Restraint never being a measure used by the Wraith, she simply attacked with everything she had.

Luckily for the good doctor, that wasn't much. The Lantean girl managed not to hit herself, but her wild aggression didn't come anywhere near Olivia, either.

Inoae could hear the banter back and forth between her Yseult Moraeu and the male Dil An. Dil An and her Yseult Moraeu snipped and snapped at each other much like Pain and Ghost did, but she thought that her Yseult Moraeu liked this male more than she showed. And certainly more than Ghost and Pain had ever suffered each other's existence.

Click to reveal.. (Fighty fightness....)
Attack roll: 1d10=5, 1d10=3, 1d10=5 0 suxx
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What the hell is this?! Olivia found herself being pursued with a fervor that she was pretty sure the instructors had forbidden. “Hey, is that really half-speed?” she asked, dodging backwards as she pivoted to the left on her good leg.

The demented Lantan didn’t answer her but instead took another swipe at her. Olivia moved away from this one as well, stepping aside as Inoae slapped at her – but this time instead of letting her just go by, Olivia attempted to push her as well. It didn’t work perfectly, but it was an attempt.

“Come on, chill out,” Olivia snapped as the deceptively frail blond spun and came at her again. “What is wrong with you!?”

Click to reveal..
Strength + Brawl (1d10=5, 1d10=5, 1d10=10) = 2 sux

Olivia does no better!

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  • 1 month later...

Dylan stepped in the room and put the computer pad down. He tossed the Hawaiian shirt he wore over his Atlantis uniform on top of the pad. Walking over to the mat he shook his head slightly.

"You get way too much enjoyment out of fighting. You need a hobby Yseult."

Dylan took a minute to stretch before stepping on to the mat.

"Wait, you said this is woman time, so how did you get in here sergeant? You have a bigger pair then any other military person in this entire city."

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Yse's smirk grew mean, dark brows lowering over her icy eyes. She rolled her broad shoulders and stuck her chest out with obvious emphasis, bringing up her fists in preparation for their bout. "They're called tits, Harvey. I'm sure you've seen them on the internet back home. Women have them. Unfortunately, so does a disgustingly high percentage of obese, North American men." She glanced down and considered her firm curves. "As for having the biggest pair, well, mine are plenty large but Tech Banks has a rack at least as big as mine. Go ask her to see if she'll give you a look and a feel, but watch out, she's a kickboxer."

"I've seen you-" he began, but got no further.

"I wouldn't count on it happening again, p'tit connard." Yseult gave the rest of the class a quick glance before riveting her eyes back on Dylan. "I'll see about getting Banks to come for the next class, so we have another instructor." Yseult's grin faded to a mere curve of her lips under her composed focus. "As for fighting, it's a job and a hobby and I enjoy both. Get your guard up, Dylan, it's time you got schooled."

If Dylan thought to goad his wife into making a rash mistake, he was sadly mistaken. He might have surprised her - maybe even impressed her a little - with his prowess with firearms, but that wasn't going to happen again. She moved with measured precision, lashing out with testing fists.

"At least you aren't completely inept... for someone who makes a living with a joystick in his hand." Yseult admitted. And it was true, his style was basic and rudimentary, but he didn't leave himself blatantly open or hesitate to strike back, nor flinch at the prospect of being hit. It was his fault Yseult was a professional soldier and athlete, who at one point aspired to be a MMA champion.

To Dylan's surprise - and mild relief - Yseult didn't use this opportunity to completely humiliate him - well, not much anyway - nor strike with full force, though he was sure he would still be sore and bruised later. Though she was still mocking and disparaging, she didn't appear to be intently cruel about it. Instead, she using their mostly one-sided bout as a lesson for the rest of girls. And unintentionally, for Dylan as well, pointing out weaknesses in his guard, critiquing his blows, and explaining the various attacks she used and the circumstances for using them. When he started following her lead, it actually went easier on him, a faint, genuine smile blooming on the powerful woman's lips.

Which was how he found himself flipped down onto the ground, his face pressed into the mat, Yseult's solid, muscular weight on top him. Hidden between the press of their bodies, Yseult surreptitiously gave Dylan a hard, teasing squeeze on his ass.

"... and you see girls, it's not all strength. You can use your opponent's, whichever strength he has, against him." Yseult leaned forward, her breasts pressing firmly against his back, bringing her lips close to her husband's ear. "Remember you little shit, I could have made this a lot worst for you, and you didn't mind the aggression in Vegas either - Hey!"

Dylan grunted under Yseult's weight as she smoothly levered herself to her feet and stalked over to the flailing duo. "Inoae, not so wild or so hard, half speed. The Doc is already handicapped, no need to make it worst. Doc, if you're gonna try for a push, aim lower and more force, bracing off your leg. It's all about leverage. Fuck, it's math, I thought you brains were good at that. Here, I'm gonna supervise you two..."

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The blonde stopped immediately and then hesitated, one eye still on Olivia, but her main attention on her Yseult Moreau. She understood that her Yseult Moreau was upset with her, and as usual assumed it was because of a lack in her. She lowered her head in deference and defeat and spoke barely above a whisper. "This one is shamed. This one does not understand. We are to fight, yes?"

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"We're supposed to spar, not fight!" Olivia snapped, letting her arms drop and taking a step back. Her face was dark with a flush; yes, she was tired, but the words "The doc is already handicapped" were ringing in her ears. "Spar! Half-speed and force, weren't you listening!"

She'd come here to learn, not to be battered on by a mentally disturbed alien. She'd come here to take out some aggression regarding Hatchins. And now she was more frustrated and angry than when she started.

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Yseult narrowed her icy eyes at Inoae's downcast mien and Olivia's tense agitation. "Enough you two!" the big, female sergeant barked and both other women stiffened.

"You!" Yseult growled, pointing two fingers are Inoae. "You made a mistake. Fine. There's fighting and then there's fighting." Despite still staring at the floor, Yseult caught her confusion on the set of her shoulders, the way she shifted her weight. Yseult snorted, making Inoae look up, then pointed around the room. "That's brown, and that, and that's brown too, but they're not all the same. The same with fighting, there's different kinds. Now you know better. Get over it and stop looking like someone killed a puppy - they shit and piss over everything anyway."

Yseult's fingers turned and pointed at Olivia. "You! Don't get all pissy. You have a limp and that's no lie. Tough. Deal with it and adjust. We'll find out how much weight you can support on it and what will work for you. It'll make some stances difficult or painful, but you can still learn to punch, block, throw, and kick. I've faced martial artists with one fucking arm and they were good. You just have a busted knee, so you don't have an damned excuse for being completely inept."

The scientist's lips tightened and Yseult could see Olivia's need to lash out - if not the reason why - though she was sure the egghead would stifle the urge as some concession to higher ideals. Fuck that! She shifted her attention to take them both in. "Too bad you two caught my attention with your spat. Now you guys get to deal with me. And I don't want to see this half-assed half-speed and half-force shit. Give me all you got. As a concession, I won't strike back... unless you guys start wussing out like little bitches. We only stop when I say stop, got it? Good. Go. Both of you."

True to her word, as long as they tried hard, Yseult didn't strike back. On the other hand, some of her blocks were damned painful. Even has Inoae's and Olivia's breathing started coming in laboured gasps, Yseult respiration was smooth and steady, her movements fluid and economical, her critiques sharp, but not needlessly cruel.

Talking her Yseult Moreau's words as a command, Inoae pushed herself to exhaustion, not even considering relenting despite the quiver in her muscles and lack of success. Olivia on the other hand was starting to grow frustrated with not making an impact on the brusque woman. Yseult's hard blocks seemed contemptuous and her slight smile mocking. Yseult noticed it, and how her blows were growing more desperate and wild, and decided to toss the bitch a bone.

Without being too obvious about it, Yseult left herself open by focusing too much on Inoae as she slipped under her high kick and let herself fall out of position. Even better, Olivia took the opening, her fist connecting with a guiltily satisfying impact across the large woman's mouth, followed by a sharp sting from her knuckles splitting open from her teeth.

"Enough!" Yseult grunted, Inoae immediately pulling her clawing fingers down to her side. Yseult simply gave Olivia an arch look at she wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, her lips already fattening. "Good hit. Feel better now?"

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