Triangle Man, Triangle Man, Triangle Man hates Person Man

[jurisimpudent]

CHARACTERS: Tyke and Smiles Edgeworth
LOCATION: Holdeck One!
WARNINGS: Swearing, passive-aggression, aggression-aggression, puppies
SUMMARY: Tyke's teaching Edgeworth how to fight! Edgeworth would be more thrilled with this if she hadn't insisted that it was a requirement.
NOTES: Backdated to yesterday, bros and bro-ettes!


[Edgeworth had woken up that morning late. He'd woken up with a throbbing head and a stomach in distress, and so he'd gone and emptied his stomach and found that hardly improved things. His joints ached, and his throat felt raw, and his eyes were filled with grit -

And he remembered suddenly that he was supposed to meet Tyke for training.

He's never late, and he never shows up in less than a good state, but as he runs down to the first floor, Pess on her leash galloping at his heels, he's eight minutes behind schedule and unshowered and miserable and in a bit of a panic, wondering if - Wondering whether she'll even still be there. If this is a damned condition for his continued employment, then he will give it his all, but this isn't really the best start.]

Comments

[puppydogeyes]

[Taylor's been in the holodeck for roughly an hour - gets off her patrol shift at 0800, gets some exercise in before sleeping for a few hours. She's always prompt in arriving anywhere at a set time, drilled into her at the Academy (even if she ignored it often enough in favour of skipping classes or showing up tardy), and her internal clock tells her Edgeworth is late even as she continues working on the heavy bag.

She'd expected different, really - he seemed too set on rules and things being proper to let time slip - but maybe he wasn't used to being up so early. She'd give him til quarter past before she went looking, she decides, but gets to nix the idea when he finally arrives.

A few more punches to the bag before she stops, steadying it briefly before she turns to look at him, lifting one hand to wipe some of the sweat off her face with her wrist.]

You're late.

[Her tone's even as she says it, neither angry nor disappointed - a statement of fact. She moves to pick up a bottle of water, opening it somewhat clumsily with her wrapped hands.]

[jurisimpudent]

I am. I'm...

[He has to take a moment to lean against the wall to catch his breath. He looks quite a mess, with his normally neat hair mussed and falling into his face, his clothes in a disarray, smelling a bit. He swallows and reports - ]

I tried to reach your...comm, but I - erm - couldn't find mine. I think it's in my room.

[He swallows again, and pulls at the leash to bring Pess around to his other side.]

I am - deeply sorry.

[puppydogeyes]

[Taylor takes a mouthful of water, looking him over with a frown. Rushed, and not really dressed the way he should be for training (but a lot of them had that problem, Taylor included, currently wearing her jumpsuit stripped down to her waist, white undershirt wet through in places). She rubs her wrist over her face again and sets the bottle back on the floor.]

Just figured you'd chickened out. [A shrug.] Was gonna come drag you here once it hit quarter past.

[It didn't need any deeply sorry, as far as she was concerned, but then he did tend to go overboard on a lot of stuff in her opinion. Still, he isn't the only one she's meeting right now, and she takes a few steps towards him before dropping down into a crouch, one hand out.]

Hey, girl.

[There's a touch of her pathos in it as well, a greeting for Pess that's more doglike than Taylor can ever actually manage physically. But that was always how it was, and why it was often hard for her to describe to anyone how, exactly, the communication worked.]

[jurisimpudent]

[Pess' response to Tyke is a very positive one. There's hardly even a hint of stress from her strange and changed surroundings; instead, she's happy because she got to run all the way here and now she gets to meet someone new and someone exciting because she seems like a person but also seems like a dog. Pess trots forward the rest of the way to greet Tyke, and sniffs her hand, and then starts wagging furiously, her mouth open in a doggish grin.

Edgeworth takes advantage of that meeting to catch his breath. It doesn't take too terribly long, fortunately; he's used to climbing stairs, and even if he's clumsy he has good strength and good endurance. It also gives him a chance to manage his temper, so that he isn't too hostile when he responds.]

I don't chicken out of things, Tyke. If I decide not to do something, it's not from fear, and I'll tell you about it.

[puppydogeyes]

[Initial greeting covered, Taylor moves into petting Pess' head, scritching at her ears a little, a small smile herself for it. Pess was enthusiastic and excitable, no touch of anything more aggressive in her - a total antithesis to Edgeworth himself, it seemed. After a moment, Taylor unclips the lead from her collar. It isn't necessary with her around.

She glances back up at Edgeworth, maybe slightly disbelieving at the idea that he wouldn't chicken out of anything. Wouldn't call it that, more like.]

Yeah, we'll see if you're saying the same after today.

[jurisimpudent]

[Pess takes advantage of her newfound freedom to dance back and forth a moment at Tyke's feet, then to trot back over to Edgeworth before running back to Tyke. She lowers her body into an invitation to play, looking up at Tyke hopefully.

Edgeworth hardly even notices; he instead lifts his head and shoulders in what borders on outrage. It's perhaps foolish to be so affronted, since Tyke knows little enough of who he is, and so her presumptions are hardly worthwhile; it is more foolish still to challenge her on them, considering that she has the power to answer his challenge devastatingly. She can set exercises for him so strenuous that he literally cannot keep up with them. And yet he still challenges her with his posture, with the look in his eye, communicating his aggression as clearly with his body language as Pess communicates playfulness with hers.]

Anything you throw at me, I will do. Do not doubt me.

[puppydogeyes]

[Taylor doesn't exactly think about it, but she communicates better in body language than she does in talking. Maybe it's her pathos or just her experience in the halls of the Academy, fights breaking out every other corner or empty classroom. Several months ago, Edgeworth squaring his shoulders at her like that would have her doing much the same back, maybe taking a step into his space, lifting her chin and meeting him head on (he wouldn't know what to do with it, she's sure).

Instead she just looks at him steadily for a long moment, then down at Pess, bending over to ruffle a hand over her scruff again. Her own dogs were settled over at one side of the room, half napping after running patrol with her during the night. She gives the equivalent of a mental whistle, Windsor and AT-AT stirring almost immediately to come over and say hello, the more quiet Gingersnap and relaxed Chubbs following at a more sedate pace. Taylor straightens up to look at Edgeworth again.]

Ten laps. [She spins a circle in the air with her finger, indicating the reasonably sized holodeck around them.] See how fast you manage that.

[jurisimpudent]

[He's still hardly caught his breath from running down here, but his jaw tightens and at once, without complaint, he launches himself into a jog. His endurance really isn't bad; he's spent his life taking the stairs, after all, and that has something of a cumulative effect. Still, his offense and rancor leads him to attempt a somewhat reckless pace, and so he completes his laps quickly but is puffing by lap four.

Pess starts to run along with him for the first lap, happy to stretch her legs, but she soon is distracted by new potential friends. She comes over immediately, nosing at and wagging at the newcomers, her eyes bright and her posture friendly.]

[puppydogeyes]

[He doesn't even bother warming up or telling her she should have him warming up, and that's telling enough. But she lets him go regardless, seemingly crouching down to play with one of the dogs for a moment, but watching him closely. Watching how he pushes himself to go full pace from the start, instead of setting himself up for something steady that'll get him through the ten. Watching the colour of his face and the sweat he starts to break out in. She's watched enough girls turn up to training hungover - been there herself several times. She knows what it looks like.

After six laps she comes over to stand in his way, holding up a hand to show she wants him to stop. The other hand has one of the water bottles, uncapped, and she offers it out.]

Breathe for a second, then drink. Sips, don't try to down it. [A pause, looking him over.] You were drinking last night.

[jurisimpudent]

[His brows are bunched tightly together from the pain throbbing in his head, and he does look a little bit pale. He breathes hard and tries to keep from gulping the entire bottle; his first swallow, a bit too deep, causes his stomach to clench. And that's the last damn thing he needs - to vomit on her shoes.]

I - [There's no point in denying it, though he could squirm from shame.] I'm - Yes. I apologize formally. It... [He takes a moment to try to catch his breath - ] It is no...excuse.

[puppydogeyes]

[She's watching him closely, ready to step out of the way if he's going to throw up, because of course he can't follow simple instructions on how to drink the water.]

Don't need to apologise to me. It's not my problem. [Half a shrug. She's already going easy on him, stopping him to give him water like this. Her training at the Academy, if you turned up hungover, you didn't get any leeway. Quick way to learn how to operate like that or just not be hungover in the first place.] You're the one that's gonna have to do a full training session feeling like reheated shit.

[jurisimpudent]

Understood.

[He tries to keep from making a face at the language; his success is limited because of the throbbing in his head. He hides it by bowing - too respectful a gesture, but one that nevertheless comes to him naturally. He might not generally be capable of politeness, but he is capable of discipline.]

I request that you not "go easy," as it were.