I made a living boxing for a while. ( ...supplementally, anyway. it was not his primary source of income. ) Just because I don't do it, doesn't mean I don't know how to. More importantly, doesn't mean I don't know when it's important. You're not me.
( marc misses the gym he'd had at grant manor, the pool and the everything that'd been available for doing much the same with marlene as he's suggesting to do with adrian — although marlene had been quite good at self-defence, as it happened. )
For lack of anywhere better. It's not my first choice, but it'll do.
[ At least it sounds like it won't be something more akin to other 'lessons' he's received. ]
Yes, I suppose so. And since I'm not likely to stop getting into trouble any time soon, I suppose you're right about the value of learning it.
We can both be abysmal at something. :)
I'll be there in twenty minutes.
[ Adrian ends up being a few minutes late, but he does show up with a paper tray laden with two cups of coffee and a bag full of jalapeno cheddar scones. He balances it all in one hand so that he can knock on Marc's motel room door. The sound is slightly muffled by his gloves. ] Room service.
[ Adrian has taken the time to change out of his work scrubs in the van, and back into some of his old adventuring clothes; a cream-colored tunic and some high-wasted pants. Despite his reluctance, he is taking this seriously. If they're going to be doing something athletic, he at least wants to be comfortable. ]
( there are responses marc could give to adrian's messages — mostly that adrian's right, that marc's glad he has a degree of self-awareness about himself, but none of that's necessary to say. he's more tempted to point out that there's a lot he's abysmal at, not just the prospect of magic, but he's less inclined to have the conversation that would lead to than he is nearly anything else, and so adrian's texts all get read and left on read.
the twenty minutes gives him time enough to rearrange, somewhat, his motel — mostly in the shape of pushing the few furnishings he has away from the centre of the room to create a small, semi-open space for them to use, even if he's privately not convinced about how much they'll achieve today.
where adrian's changed out of his work clothes, marc's yet to change into his, opting for something similar to what adrian's seen him in (albeit very infrequently) before — dark cargo pants and, in a rarer-than-usual-move, a t-shirt. the knock and announcement of room service earn little more than a mostly inaudible grunt before he opens the door, and— coffee. of course. his mouth quirks.
[ However low Marc's expectations are for this particular lesson, Adrian's are most assuredly much lower, but the moment that the door opens Marc is greeted with a fond smile. ]
Mmhm. It seems we've both become too predictable, my dear. You can take the one on your left. [ Adrian says, as he steps past Marc to get inside. He holds still long enough for Marc to retrieve his coffee and a scone if he so desires, before setting the remainder on the little island that separates the kitchen from the living area. (If he spent an extra second or two looking at Marc's arms as he passed his offerings along, that's between him and his Patron.)
Adrian leans a hip against the kitchen island and takes a sip of his own coffee, surveying the open training area with only vague trepidation. ]
Fern and I have started renting an apartment in the Blocks — you should come and have dinner with us sometime, if you want to do something different.
[ Is he talking a little more than usual because he's nervous? The answer is yes. ] So, what exactly does this lesson entail?
( marc casts adrian a glance when he shares that he and fern have moved. it's a stark reminder that marc hasn't, not once — the motel's much the same as it had been the first time adrian had visited, only the plants have grown a touch, there are a few more books, and though the room itself still has the intrinsic, inherent problems that come with renting somewhere like this, marc's evidently done his best to make it a home of sorts.
the plumbing, temperamental, has been fixed to the best of his ability (he's shockingly good at DIY—), while the damp that periodically creeps in from the gaps between the single-glazed windows and the windowsills has been attended to, albeit not enough to stop the breeze that makes itself known whenever anyone's stood slightly too close to the window. it'll be appreciated come the summer, probably.
you should come and have dinner, adrian offers, and marc firstly looks surprised, and then it occurs to him that while he's not precisely the fussiest of men when it comes to food, should he take adrian up on the offer, there are things he doesn't eat, more out of long-ingrained habit than lingering beliefs. but that, it's complicated, and there's no guarantee he'll offer, no guarantee that despite everything, adrian's offer is little more than politeness.
(they've discussed faith in a roundabout manner, but not once has marc shared that he's jewish. not once has he shared what that means, for him.)
he notes the way that adrian eyes the open space, the way that there's a certain nervousness to his manner that marc hasn't seen before. marc shifts his weight and gestures loosely towards adrian, before taking a sip of his coffee. )
Form.
( simple. )
I could get you to try and punch me all day if I wanted, but if you don't know how it's supposed to look and how it's supposed to feel, it's pointless. You're not going to touch me, so you don't need to worry about that.
[ Adrian has long since grown accustomed to the way Marc is. He's not expecting an immediate answer for his easy invitation. He does, however, add some commentary around another sip of coffee: ] I can see when you're overthinking something. You have a tell.
[ Just teasing, a little more of his usual self. Their apartment is hardly properly furnished as yet, but Adrian is pleased about it none the less. After nearly a year of living between the van and the motel, they have their own private spaces, and room for guests. It is, for him at least, the first time that Panorama has started to truly feel like home.
Adrian isn't tense exactly, but his shoulders to relax a little more when Marc says form, when he explains clearly what they're going to do. He's had some less than stellar experiences when it comes to combat training, and one of them had indeed been try to hit me.
He nods, setting his cup down on the counter. ] Alright then. I've kept something in reserve to dispel the curse, just in case our best laid plans... Go the way of our usual plans. As sweet as you are when you're feverish, I'm sure that it isn't a pleasant experience, so neither of us should have to worry about that.
[ He steps into Marc's space, inclines his head. ] How would you like me?
I have dietary requirements, ( he offers in return, oddly immediate, oddly casual despite having at no point in the almost year that they've known each other, implied that he has any semblance of dietary requirements at all. indeed, marc's aware that he's, at most times, an acutely unfussy individual when it comes to food and drink.
he gestures vaguely towards the empty space that will serve as something of an area in which to train, appreciative of the fact that adrian has considered worst coming to worst, he doesn't particularly enjoy that it's a consideration. still, it does so happen that while marc is not a man necessarily predisposed to touch, it's natural and inherent in a way that being around adrian means he has to reconsider, especially with something like this.
adrian steps into his space and though marc means to immediately demonstrate his preferred posture for adrian, the one-two of you're sweet and how would you like me means he exhales a breath through his nose, sharp and sudden and amused. )
There's not a person on Earth that's ever described me as sweet, Adrian.
( and then he positions himself, stance exaggerated in order to emphasise what he's after from adrian. this, in and of itself, wasn't a ruse — adrian does need to learn how to defend himself, and adrian's revelations as to recent events (that marc hadn't been aware of) have done nothing to dissuade that line of thought, but—
marc's aware of the conversation that'd become derailed by events in the following months. marc's aware, too, of his tendency towards to avoidance, how he'll circle topics until it's absolutely necessary for him to deal with them head-on. that'd been months ago, at the height of winter, and— well, it's not a conversation marc wishes to have now, per se, but that doesn't mean it's not due.
he just doesn't know how to start it.
so, seemingly unrelated, he states— ) I'm probably dead at home.
( uttered like he's commenting on the weather. he can't recall if he's shared this specific piece of information with adrian, only that he knows he hasn't shared anything that surrounds it. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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It's about time.
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[ He's trying not to read too much into that. ]
Very well. Set your expectations low. Should I come by your motel room?
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Do I strike you as an optimist?
( marc misses the gym he'd had at grant manor, the pool and the everything that'd been available for doing much the same with marlene as he's suggesting to do with adrian — although marlene had been quite good at self-defence, as it happened. )
For lack of anywhere better. It's not my first choice, but it'll do.
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I'm almost done with work. I can drive over now, if you're not about to leave for work yourself?
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That's not what we're engaging in.
Work can wait. It's barely even dark.
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I can defend myself, you know. It's just that I prefer to use magic.
Perhaps I could try to teach you some magic in exchange?
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Yes. But that makes you predictable.
You could try. It won't go very well.
> action
[ At least it sounds like it won't be something more akin to other 'lessons' he's received. ]
Yes, I suppose so. And since I'm not likely to stop getting into trouble any time soon, I suppose you're right about the value of learning it.
We can both be abysmal at something. :)
I'll be there in twenty minutes.
[ Adrian ends up being a few minutes late, but he does show up with a paper tray laden with two cups of coffee and a bag full of jalapeno cheddar scones. He balances it all in one hand so that he can knock on Marc's motel room door. The sound is slightly muffled by his gloves. ] Room service.
[ Adrian has taken the time to change out of his work scrubs in the van, and back into some of his old adventuring clothes; a cream-colored tunic and some high-wasted pants. Despite his reluctance, he is taking this seriously. If they're going to be doing something athletic, he at least wants to be comfortable. ]
no subject
the twenty minutes gives him time enough to rearrange, somewhat, his motel — mostly in the shape of pushing the few furnishings he has away from the centre of the room to create a small, semi-open space for them to use, even if he's privately not convinced about how much they'll achieve today.
where adrian's changed out of his work clothes, marc's yet to change into his, opting for something similar to what adrian's seen him in (albeit very infrequently) before — dark cargo pants and, in a rarer-than-usual-move, a t-shirt. the knock and announcement of room service earn little more than a mostly inaudible grunt before he opens the door, and— coffee. of course. his mouth quirks.
bluntly— )
I need to change up my order.
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Mmhm. It seems we've both become too predictable, my dear. You can take the one on your left. [ Adrian says, as he steps past Marc to get inside. He holds still long enough for Marc to retrieve his coffee and a scone if he so desires, before setting the remainder on the little island that separates the kitchen from the living area. (If he spent an extra second or two looking at Marc's arms as he passed his offerings along, that's between him and his Patron.)
Adrian leans a hip against the kitchen island and takes a sip of his own coffee, surveying the open training area with only vague trepidation. ]
Fern and I have started renting an apartment in the Blocks — you should come and have dinner with us sometime, if you want to do something different.
[ Is he talking a little more than usual because he's nervous? The answer is yes. ] So, what exactly does this lesson entail?
no subject
the plumbing, temperamental, has been fixed to the best of his ability (he's shockingly good at DIY—), while the damp that periodically creeps in from the gaps between the single-glazed windows and the windowsills has been attended to, albeit not enough to stop the breeze that makes itself known whenever anyone's stood slightly too close to the window. it'll be appreciated come the summer, probably.
you should come and have dinner, adrian offers, and marc firstly looks surprised, and then it occurs to him that while he's not precisely the fussiest of men when it comes to food, should he take adrian up on the offer, there are things he doesn't eat, more out of long-ingrained habit than lingering beliefs. but that, it's complicated, and there's no guarantee he'll offer, no guarantee that despite everything, adrian's offer is little more than politeness.
(they've discussed faith in a roundabout manner, but not once has marc shared that he's jewish. not once has he shared what that means, for him.)
he notes the way that adrian eyes the open space, the way that there's a certain nervousness to his manner that marc hasn't seen before. marc shifts his weight and gestures loosely towards adrian, before taking a sip of his coffee. )
Form.
( simple. )
I could get you to try and punch me all day if I wanted, but if you don't know how it's supposed to look and how it's supposed to feel, it's pointless. You're not going to touch me, so you don't need to worry about that.
no subject
[ Just teasing, a little more of his usual self. Their apartment is hardly properly furnished as yet, but Adrian is pleased about it none the less. After nearly a year of living between the van and the motel, they have their own private spaces, and room for guests. It is, for him at least, the first time that Panorama has started to truly feel like home.
Adrian isn't tense exactly, but his shoulders to relax a little more when Marc says form, when he explains clearly what they're going to do. He's had some less than stellar experiences when it comes to combat training, and one of them had indeed been try to hit me.
He nods, setting his cup down on the counter. ] Alright then. I've kept something in reserve to dispel the curse, just in case our best laid plans... Go the way of our usual plans. As sweet as you are when you're feverish, I'm sure that it isn't a pleasant experience, so neither of us should have to worry about that.
[ He steps into Marc's space, inclines his head. ] How would you like me?
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he gestures vaguely towards the empty space that will serve as something of an area in which to train, appreciative of the fact that adrian has considered worst coming to worst, he doesn't particularly enjoy that it's a consideration. still, it does so happen that while marc is not a man necessarily predisposed to touch, it's natural and inherent in a way that being around adrian means he has to reconsider, especially with something like this.
adrian steps into his space and though marc means to immediately demonstrate his preferred posture for adrian, the one-two of you're sweet and how would you like me means he exhales a breath through his nose, sharp and sudden and amused. )
There's not a person on Earth that's ever described me as sweet, Adrian.
( and then he positions himself, stance exaggerated in order to emphasise what he's after from adrian. this, in and of itself, wasn't a ruse — adrian does need to learn how to defend himself, and adrian's revelations as to recent events (that marc hadn't been aware of) have done nothing to dissuade that line of thought, but—
marc's aware of the conversation that'd become derailed by events in the following months. marc's aware, too, of his tendency towards to avoidance, how he'll circle topics until it's absolutely necessary for him to deal with them head-on. that'd been months ago, at the height of winter, and— well, it's not a conversation marc wishes to have now, per se, but that doesn't mean it's not due.
he just doesn't know how to start it.
so, seemingly unrelated, he states— ) I'm probably dead at home.
( uttered like he's commenting on the weather. he can't recall if he's shared this specific piece of information with adrian, only that he knows he hasn't shared anything that surrounds it. )