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om_mainJohn has a couple of surprises for Midnighter, and decides to live dangerously to give them to him.
Breaking his own self-imposed house-arrest felt a little bit like betraying himself, but that was about what he was looking for. His routine had been shattered, drastically altered. But that was okay, because he was working on his mind. All this time, it had been so simple. How much suffering had he brought upon himself in this time? Upon others? This is the kind of thing you reflect on, when you're lying in faux ambush along one of Midnighter's regular jogging paths, buried in a crouched position in the snow at the base of a tree. He'd been like this for three hours. If his predictions were correct, Midnighter would be along shortly. He'd be able to hear him approach.
John had already been working on his breathing, and not moving. Turns out emptying his bladder beforehand was the best choice he'd made. Not to mention the fact that he was in boots, jeans, and a t-shirt. His body heat had only melted a little bit close to his flesh, since he'd went ahead and cooled himself in the winter air beforehand, lowering his body temperature, before burying himself. Facing the little path that Midnighter pretty much always took, John focused on his breathing. Small, quiet, shallow breaths, no movement of the chest, no time for his lungs to heat the air and melt the snow around himself. Lucky for him, his healing factor seemed to combat possibly hypothermia situations very well.
Midnighter jogged along his usual path, as sure of foot in the snow as he usually was. His brain had quickly adapted to the new element, the first time it had snowed since his manifestation, and now he barely noticed the difference. He was hoping to see the wolf again today, however; another race would not hurt, and he was wondering how she would deal with the more slippery surface.
But no matter how much he might be thinking about something, he was never exactly distracted. The odd pile of snow would not have caught his attention if it weren't for the fact that scenarios suddenly filed through his brain, clearly aimed at the person hidden inside it.
But two could play this game, and Midnighter did not slow down, not giving any indication that he had noticed.
John had a feeling that this would be a silly little game as far as Midnighter was concerned, but the moment he was sure, judging by the footfalls and heartbeat, that Midnighter was directly in front of him. Once he heard Midnighter's foot fall just slightly off to John's right, he exploded out of the snow pile, claws not out, if only because he knew Midnighter wouldn't react quite as brutally if he did. But either way, John lunged at him, covered in snow and soaked through, aiming to tackle him to the ground.
Midnighter had several options, not all of which were overly violent. He had planned to take the least violent one - putting on a burst of speed when Daken erupted from the pile of snow, which would leave him attempting to tackle empty air and, hopefully, eating a little more snow. But the attempted tackle was too fast for it to be practical, Midnighter knew as soon as it began, the chances of completely evading it smaller than he would have liked. So he stood his ground instead, spun, and let his leg kick out, meaning to catch Daken square in the chest and send him back against that tree trunk he'd been hiding by.
It was foolish to not expect a reaction from Midnighter, even of the semi-violent or non-lethal variety, so John had been prepared. Midnighter, and fighting in the streets in general, had taught him a lot about kicks. They were strong, but they were also vulnerable. And there were just a few problems. By now, both of Daken's feet had left the ground, and he was just launched at Midnighter in a pounce. That meant he didn't have a lot of maneuverability on his side, but he did have momentum. And he still had his arms.
He hadn't jumped high, he'd simply jumped far, and lunging like he was, it was a rather simple thing to make to grab Midnighter's leg and take him to the ground, probably just a bit roughly, but John knew Midnighter was tough, and he could take it. Worst case scenario, he'd grab his leg and get carried with the kick's momentum, but if that happened he could probably leverage Midnighter to the ground anyway. He just kind of wanted to get the guy on the ground. Y'know. For fun.
Of course, that was a possibility his brain had considered, and Midnighter had been ready to counter it. He ignored the lethal responses, and the could-be lethal ones (even if they would not have been to someone with Daken's healing factor; he didn't want to get used to going there unless he really wanted to), and let himself be brought down to the ground. Only then, catching himself on his hands and twisting around appropriately, did he aim the foot Daken hadn't caught at his head, giving him the slightest chance to parry or throw his aim by relinquishing his hold on his other leg.
Which Daken was fast enough to do so, bouncing back up and parrying the kick, winding up more or less on his feet while Midnighter was on the ground. John was smirking all the while, and grinned broadly. "Merry Christmas Eve," John said, relaxing and standing. "Y'know I can't help but feel if you hadn't been training me all this time, you would've caught me in the head, no ifs ands or buts about it," he said, smirking.
"I can't help but feel I should take you down a notch if you keep talking like this," Midnighter retorted, getting back to his feet and ignoring a few hundred more scenarios. Maybe Talon was right and Daken was getting too arrogant.
"Oh, c'mon man. It's just a bit of fun. And I just found out I can survive being buried in the snow for three hours," he added. "I'm not tryin' to say that I'm kung-fu master of the universe, man. Just sayin' I'm gettin' better with time. And that's the purpose of the training, right?" He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Either way, I'm tryin' to turn my life around. So I figured I'd start with you. Y'know. Say what I got to say, and then move on to the ones that are gonna be a lot harder."
Midnighter had been about to clarify the primary purpose of the training, but then Daken went on talking and he closed his mouth, frowning. "What the fuck are you going on about." Because he had no idea, no.
Really, that just made him chuckle. "I've been an utter piece of shit to everyone around me, and a real idiot on top of all of that. Dunno if you really care or not, with, y'know, you being you. So I figured I'd start with you. I figure you ain't much for Christmas, and it's a bit early and all, but I made you a little something. Something to say sorry for causin' a heap of trouble around here, and for being a shithead. And a promise that I'll try to do better." He fished the little wooden bit out of his pocket, tied with black cords on either end, out of his pocket.
Midnighter's frown upgraded to a scowl as Daken kept talking. He looked at the - whatever the fuck that was in his hand. What he knew for sure was that it wasn't a weapon. It was too short to be used as a garrotte, and not sturdy enough; the only way to kill someone with it was to shove it down their throat and let them choke on it. He looked back up at Daken. "I don't do Christmas."
"That's too damn bad. 'Cause I do," he said, walking right up to Midnighter as if he was approaching anyone else and offering him the little trinket. "It's just somethin' I made. Wear it, don't wear it, whatever you wanna do, man." It was a small wooden diamond, a little bigger than a watch face, with a kanji engraved on it. If Midnighter knew any kanji, he'd know it was the kanji for "sensei." It had cords attached to it so that it could be tied around one's wrist. "I made a similar one for Rahne, and another for Laura, but they're necklaces. Figured you'd think that tactically speaking, necklaces are a liability. So I figured something you could wrap around your wrist. And who knows? It's wood, it could stop a knife if need be," John said, shrugging. "Next time I'll buy you a nice survival knife or somethin', if you'd take a bit better to that," John offered with a lopsided grin.
"Or next time, you could respect the fact that I don't fucking do Christmas," Midnighter retorted sharply, but he grabbed the - bracelet - anyway. Did he look like he was the type to wear bracelets? Sure, it was way less of a liability than a necklace, good thinking. But he just didn't wear shit like this. He glared down at the Japanese sign on the wood, then asked, because now of course he wanted to know, "What does it say?"
"It says "sensei." 'Cause, y'know. That's pretty much what you are to me," John said. "In the spirit of that, I made this one to practice making the ones I made for Rahne and Laura. Carved with my own claws," he added.
Well, now it sounded to Midnighter like they were in a fucking kung fu movie or whatever. It wasn't like he watched these movies, even when Apollo did; the fight scenes tended to piss him off in no time, and he didn't need that to improve his already sunny disposition. "Thanks," he simply stated, and added, as he pocketed it, "I'm not wearing it." Just in case there was any doubt about that.
He chuckled. "No problem. Use it as a keychain, if you want. Whatever you wanna do, man," John suggested. "It's a symbol, y'know? Of... setting things right, or starting to, at least. So at least if you find my torn-up carcass somewhere in these woods, you know I botched mending fences with Rahne or Laura," he added. "Without you, man, I couldn't have turned my shit around. That means a lot to me. I know you can handle yourself in just about anything, but... I got your back. Especially with our shit going public. If anything goes down, I can't think of anyone I'd have on my side over you."
Midnighter didn't know what to do with that. It felt wrong, because nobody was supposed to have his back. He was here to have everybody else's. So he latched onto something that was a lot easier to talk about. "Who's Rahne?" Yeah, no, he hadn't been paying attention to the new kids that much at all. But if she was likely to tear up Daken out here in the woods, then he had an idea of who she might be, and he wanted to make sure he had it right.
"Oh. She uh, she's some girl. Can turn into a wolf-thing, nearly tore my leg off," he said, as if it were no big deal. "We kinda got into an argument that kinda got blown out of proportion. I was kind of a dick. So I'm going to apologize. I think she's been hiding out here. She might have a full-on wolf form that she's been using, running around out here. Not sure, though."
Midnighter wasn't going to confirm that Rahne was running around the woods in full wolf form; he had no right. And while he actually approved of owning up to your fuck-ups, he wasn't going to say so. Not when the kid had carved a fucking bracelet thing for him with the Japanese for sensei on it. So he went with something simple, which ought to work on several levels, if Daken could grasp them. "Well. Don't get your leg actually torn off."
"That's definitely the plan, man," John chuckled. "Don't suppose you celebrate New Year's, either?" John asked, cracking the faintest hint of a smirk.
"I don't celebrate," Midnighter retorted. It was as simple as that, really.
"Well, at least you're not gonna whine if I don't get you something for Valentine's Day," John teased. "Though I doubt you're one for chocolate." He just gave a shrug at that thought. "In all seriousness, though, thanks. For everything. And for what it's worth, Merry Christmas," he said, cracking a smirk. Really, he'd just delivered Midnighter's on Christmas Eve so that if the guy had knocked some of his teeth out, they would have grown back by Christmas Day. "You can expect me around on our usual trainin' day. Lookin' forward to it."
"I'll see you then," Midnighter confirmed, glad to be bringing this weird conversation to a stop. 'What the fuck' summed up his state of mind perfectly, just then.
Breaking his own self-imposed house-arrest felt a little bit like betraying himself, but that was about what he was looking for. His routine had been shattered, drastically altered. But that was okay, because he was working on his mind. All this time, it had been so simple. How much suffering had he brought upon himself in this time? Upon others? This is the kind of thing you reflect on, when you're lying in faux ambush along one of Midnighter's regular jogging paths, buried in a crouched position in the snow at the base of a tree. He'd been like this for three hours. If his predictions were correct, Midnighter would be along shortly. He'd be able to hear him approach.
John had already been working on his breathing, and not moving. Turns out emptying his bladder beforehand was the best choice he'd made. Not to mention the fact that he was in boots, jeans, and a t-shirt. His body heat had only melted a little bit close to his flesh, since he'd went ahead and cooled himself in the winter air beforehand, lowering his body temperature, before burying himself. Facing the little path that Midnighter pretty much always took, John focused on his breathing. Small, quiet, shallow breaths, no movement of the chest, no time for his lungs to heat the air and melt the snow around himself. Lucky for him, his healing factor seemed to combat possibly hypothermia situations very well.
Midnighter jogged along his usual path, as sure of foot in the snow as he usually was. His brain had quickly adapted to the new element, the first time it had snowed since his manifestation, and now he barely noticed the difference. He was hoping to see the wolf again today, however; another race would not hurt, and he was wondering how she would deal with the more slippery surface.
But no matter how much he might be thinking about something, he was never exactly distracted. The odd pile of snow would not have caught his attention if it weren't for the fact that scenarios suddenly filed through his brain, clearly aimed at the person hidden inside it.
But two could play this game, and Midnighter did not slow down, not giving any indication that he had noticed.
John had a feeling that this would be a silly little game as far as Midnighter was concerned, but the moment he was sure, judging by the footfalls and heartbeat, that Midnighter was directly in front of him. Once he heard Midnighter's foot fall just slightly off to John's right, he exploded out of the snow pile, claws not out, if only because he knew Midnighter wouldn't react quite as brutally if he did. But either way, John lunged at him, covered in snow and soaked through, aiming to tackle him to the ground.
Midnighter had several options, not all of which were overly violent. He had planned to take the least violent one - putting on a burst of speed when Daken erupted from the pile of snow, which would leave him attempting to tackle empty air and, hopefully, eating a little more snow. But the attempted tackle was too fast for it to be practical, Midnighter knew as soon as it began, the chances of completely evading it smaller than he would have liked. So he stood his ground instead, spun, and let his leg kick out, meaning to catch Daken square in the chest and send him back against that tree trunk he'd been hiding by.
It was foolish to not expect a reaction from Midnighter, even of the semi-violent or non-lethal variety, so John had been prepared. Midnighter, and fighting in the streets in general, had taught him a lot about kicks. They were strong, but they were also vulnerable. And there were just a few problems. By now, both of Daken's feet had left the ground, and he was just launched at Midnighter in a pounce. That meant he didn't have a lot of maneuverability on his side, but he did have momentum. And he still had his arms.
He hadn't jumped high, he'd simply jumped far, and lunging like he was, it was a rather simple thing to make to grab Midnighter's leg and take him to the ground, probably just a bit roughly, but John knew Midnighter was tough, and he could take it. Worst case scenario, he'd grab his leg and get carried with the kick's momentum, but if that happened he could probably leverage Midnighter to the ground anyway. He just kind of wanted to get the guy on the ground. Y'know. For fun.
Of course, that was a possibility his brain had considered, and Midnighter had been ready to counter it. He ignored the lethal responses, and the could-be lethal ones (even if they would not have been to someone with Daken's healing factor; he didn't want to get used to going there unless he really wanted to), and let himself be brought down to the ground. Only then, catching himself on his hands and twisting around appropriately, did he aim the foot Daken hadn't caught at his head, giving him the slightest chance to parry or throw his aim by relinquishing his hold on his other leg.
Which Daken was fast enough to do so, bouncing back up and parrying the kick, winding up more or less on his feet while Midnighter was on the ground. John was smirking all the while, and grinned broadly. "Merry Christmas Eve," John said, relaxing and standing. "Y'know I can't help but feel if you hadn't been training me all this time, you would've caught me in the head, no ifs ands or buts about it," he said, smirking.
"I can't help but feel I should take you down a notch if you keep talking like this," Midnighter retorted, getting back to his feet and ignoring a few hundred more scenarios. Maybe Talon was right and Daken was getting too arrogant.
"Oh, c'mon man. It's just a bit of fun. And I just found out I can survive being buried in the snow for three hours," he added. "I'm not tryin' to say that I'm kung-fu master of the universe, man. Just sayin' I'm gettin' better with time. And that's the purpose of the training, right?" He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Either way, I'm tryin' to turn my life around. So I figured I'd start with you. Y'know. Say what I got to say, and then move on to the ones that are gonna be a lot harder."
Midnighter had been about to clarify the primary purpose of the training, but then Daken went on talking and he closed his mouth, frowning. "What the fuck are you going on about." Because he had no idea, no.
Really, that just made him chuckle. "I've been an utter piece of shit to everyone around me, and a real idiot on top of all of that. Dunno if you really care or not, with, y'know, you being you. So I figured I'd start with you. I figure you ain't much for Christmas, and it's a bit early and all, but I made you a little something. Something to say sorry for causin' a heap of trouble around here, and for being a shithead. And a promise that I'll try to do better." He fished the little wooden bit out of his pocket, tied with black cords on either end, out of his pocket.
Midnighter's frown upgraded to a scowl as Daken kept talking. He looked at the - whatever the fuck that was in his hand. What he knew for sure was that it wasn't a weapon. It was too short to be used as a garrotte, and not sturdy enough; the only way to kill someone with it was to shove it down their throat and let them choke on it. He looked back up at Daken. "I don't do Christmas."
"That's too damn bad. 'Cause I do," he said, walking right up to Midnighter as if he was approaching anyone else and offering him the little trinket. "It's just somethin' I made. Wear it, don't wear it, whatever you wanna do, man." It was a small wooden diamond, a little bigger than a watch face, with a kanji engraved on it. If Midnighter knew any kanji, he'd know it was the kanji for "sensei." It had cords attached to it so that it could be tied around one's wrist. "I made a similar one for Rahne, and another for Laura, but they're necklaces. Figured you'd think that tactically speaking, necklaces are a liability. So I figured something you could wrap around your wrist. And who knows? It's wood, it could stop a knife if need be," John said, shrugging. "Next time I'll buy you a nice survival knife or somethin', if you'd take a bit better to that," John offered with a lopsided grin.
"Or next time, you could respect the fact that I don't fucking do Christmas," Midnighter retorted sharply, but he grabbed the - bracelet - anyway. Did he look like he was the type to wear bracelets? Sure, it was way less of a liability than a necklace, good thinking. But he just didn't wear shit like this. He glared down at the Japanese sign on the wood, then asked, because now of course he wanted to know, "What does it say?"
"It says "sensei." 'Cause, y'know. That's pretty much what you are to me," John said. "In the spirit of that, I made this one to practice making the ones I made for Rahne and Laura. Carved with my own claws," he added.
Well, now it sounded to Midnighter like they were in a fucking kung fu movie or whatever. It wasn't like he watched these movies, even when Apollo did; the fight scenes tended to piss him off in no time, and he didn't need that to improve his already sunny disposition. "Thanks," he simply stated, and added, as he pocketed it, "I'm not wearing it." Just in case there was any doubt about that.
He chuckled. "No problem. Use it as a keychain, if you want. Whatever you wanna do, man," John suggested. "It's a symbol, y'know? Of... setting things right, or starting to, at least. So at least if you find my torn-up carcass somewhere in these woods, you know I botched mending fences with Rahne or Laura," he added. "Without you, man, I couldn't have turned my shit around. That means a lot to me. I know you can handle yourself in just about anything, but... I got your back. Especially with our shit going public. If anything goes down, I can't think of anyone I'd have on my side over you."
Midnighter didn't know what to do with that. It felt wrong, because nobody was supposed to have his back. He was here to have everybody else's. So he latched onto something that was a lot easier to talk about. "Who's Rahne?" Yeah, no, he hadn't been paying attention to the new kids that much at all. But if she was likely to tear up Daken out here in the woods, then he had an idea of who she might be, and he wanted to make sure he had it right.
"Oh. She uh, she's some girl. Can turn into a wolf-thing, nearly tore my leg off," he said, as if it were no big deal. "We kinda got into an argument that kinda got blown out of proportion. I was kind of a dick. So I'm going to apologize. I think she's been hiding out here. She might have a full-on wolf form that she's been using, running around out here. Not sure, though."
Midnighter wasn't going to confirm that Rahne was running around the woods in full wolf form; he had no right. And while he actually approved of owning up to your fuck-ups, he wasn't going to say so. Not when the kid had carved a fucking bracelet thing for him with the Japanese for sensei on it. So he went with something simple, which ought to work on several levels, if Daken could grasp them. "Well. Don't get your leg actually torn off."
"That's definitely the plan, man," John chuckled. "Don't suppose you celebrate New Year's, either?" John asked, cracking the faintest hint of a smirk.
"I don't celebrate," Midnighter retorted. It was as simple as that, really.
"Well, at least you're not gonna whine if I don't get you something for Valentine's Day," John teased. "Though I doubt you're one for chocolate." He just gave a shrug at that thought. "In all seriousness, though, thanks. For everything. And for what it's worth, Merry Christmas," he said, cracking a smirk. Really, he'd just delivered Midnighter's on Christmas Eve so that if the guy had knocked some of his teeth out, they would have grown back by Christmas Day. "You can expect me around on our usual trainin' day. Lookin' forward to it."
"I'll see you then," Midnighter confirmed, glad to be bringing this weird conversation to a stop. 'What the fuck' summed up his state of mind perfectly, just then.
