Aesop laughed with Parker at Pixie and Amy's flirting. "The strawberries were her idea, you can probably guess."
"We gotta get this cooky fucker laid! How long's it been, Aesop? Ten years?"
"Oh god," he put his head in his hands over dramatically. "Let me think er," he literally stroked his beard in thought, "I haven't gotten laid since I was sober... the last time I remember waking up next to someone with that awesome feeling of 'ohhh yeeeaaah', I was in Star dome in this dank ass fucking backroom casino with the Pit Boss and this bodyguard lady, the three of us laid out on a pool table."
He looked bashful as he realised what he had just blurted out. He chuckled nervously and said, "Hey not all my drunk stories are bad ones, some are pretty fun."
===================================
Hannibal nodded along to Viola's words. A change of clothes could be nice but it wasn't on top of his list of priorities. He didn't itch so much anymore and had gotten used to cold he felt from the holes. Still he could do with some better rags, or maybe even actual clothing. What a thought that was.
Entering the makeshift training room Hannibal put his hands in front of his face, clenched as fists, while his feet were close together. His stance was all wrong and Viola took to fixing his positioning. He still flinched at being touched but he seemed to reluctantly go along with it, despite the twitches in his face showing how uncomfortable he was.
'WAAA WWAAA WAAA DON'T YOU EVER STOP CRYING ******!'
Now in a good defensive position she began showing him basic punching and blocking techniques. Like she had said earlier, he had a very basic knowledge from what he has seen from fights but he knew nothing of skill when it came to actual fighting. Jabs, swings, right hook, left hook, block with the forearms, all basic things. Learning these things wasn't the harderst part, anyone could learn it, the hard part for him was when she asked him to strike her. He hesitated, and even after telling him she'd block every time and not be hurt, he felt deeply uncomfortable not just touching another person, but possibly causing them hard? Even with the knowledge of his lack of strength, her bulk of strength, and the quite frankly impossibility that he could hurt her at all, he still felt so... wrong.
'C'MON *****! PUT YOUR GOD DAMN ARMS UP! FUCK ME YOU'RE WEAK!'
Against his feelings, Hannibal complied and began punching at Viola. Incredibly soft at first, she told him to give him her all. Wincing badly, he started punching at her as hard as he could. She didn't seem bothered by his strikes as she blocked them all, the only thing about him which seemed like it would help in a fight is the speed in which he was attacking. He didn't think anything of it, but she eventually had to tell him to slow down he was punching so fast.
A few hours had passed and Hannibal was trying his best to record these skills to memory. The most uncomfortable time for Hannibal was when she showed him how to get out of grapples, the contact made his skin crawl, even if he did need to learn it.
'Please... p-p-please don't hold me like that. I-it hurts, you don't know how much it hurts-'
'SHUT UP YOU STUPID KID! IF I HAVE TO BE HERE I'M GONNA HAVE SOME GOD DAMN FUN NOW GET BACK ON THE FUCKING BED!'
He had trouble escaping her grasp. Sighing Viola had to let him go easily, yet something inside Hannibal told him he needed this. He needed to learn how to escape. So he tried again. And again. And again, until finally she didn't need to hold back anymore as he was slipping out of every kind of hold she could put him in. Each and every one he slithered out like a snake until finally she couldn't even grab hold of him, he was dodging that fast.
Finally it was time for a break, Hannibal fell onto the ground backside first. He pulled his waterskin out of his bag and began guzzling it. If he wasn't as thin as a twig he'd be sweating much harder than he currently was.
"We gotta get this cooky fucker laid! How long's it been, Aesop? Ten years?"
"Oh god," he put his head in his hands over dramatically. "Let me think er," he literally stroked his beard in thought, "I haven't gotten laid since I was sober... the last time I remember waking up next to someone with that awesome feeling of 'ohhh yeeeaaah', I was in Star dome in this dank ass fucking backroom casino with the Pit Boss and this bodyguard lady, the three of us laid out on a pool table."
He looked bashful as he realised what he had just blurted out. He chuckled nervously and said, "Hey not all my drunk stories are bad ones, some are pretty fun."
===================================
Hannibal nodded along to Viola's words. A change of clothes could be nice but it wasn't on top of his list of priorities. He didn't itch so much anymore and had gotten used to cold he felt from the holes. Still he could do with some better rags, or maybe even actual clothing. What a thought that was.
Entering the makeshift training room Hannibal put his hands in front of his face, clenched as fists, while his feet were close together. His stance was all wrong and Viola took to fixing his positioning. He still flinched at being touched but he seemed to reluctantly go along with it, despite the twitches in his face showing how uncomfortable he was.
'WAAA WWAAA WAAA DON'T YOU EVER STOP CRYING ******!'
Now in a good defensive position she began showing him basic punching and blocking techniques. Like she had said earlier, he had a very basic knowledge from what he has seen from fights but he knew nothing of skill when it came to actual fighting. Jabs, swings, right hook, left hook, block with the forearms, all basic things. Learning these things wasn't the harderst part, anyone could learn it, the hard part for him was when she asked him to strike her. He hesitated, and even after telling him she'd block every time and not be hurt, he felt deeply uncomfortable not just touching another person, but possibly causing them hard? Even with the knowledge of his lack of strength, her bulk of strength, and the quite frankly impossibility that he could hurt her at all, he still felt so... wrong.
'C'MON *****! PUT YOUR GOD DAMN ARMS UP! FUCK ME YOU'RE WEAK!'
Against his feelings, Hannibal complied and began punching at Viola. Incredibly soft at first, she told him to give him her all. Wincing badly, he started punching at her as hard as he could. She didn't seem bothered by his strikes as she blocked them all, the only thing about him which seemed like it would help in a fight is the speed in which he was attacking. He didn't think anything of it, but she eventually had to tell him to slow down he was punching so fast.
A few hours had passed and Hannibal was trying his best to record these skills to memory. The most uncomfortable time for Hannibal was when she showed him how to get out of grapples, the contact made his skin crawl, even if he did need to learn it.
'Please... p-p-please don't hold me like that. I-it hurts, you don't know how much it hurts-'
'SHUT UP YOU STUPID KID! IF I HAVE TO BE HERE I'M GONNA HAVE SOME GOD DAMN FUN NOW GET BACK ON THE FUCKING BED!'
He had trouble escaping her grasp. Sighing Viola had to let him go easily, yet something inside Hannibal told him he needed this. He needed to learn how to escape. So he tried again. And again. And again, until finally she didn't need to hold back anymore as he was slipping out of every kind of hold she could put him in. Each and every one he slithered out like a snake until finally she couldn't even grab hold of him, he was dodging that fast.
Finally it was time for a break, Hannibal fell onto the ground backside first. He pulled his waterskin out of his bag and began guzzling it. If he wasn't as thin as a twig he'd be sweating much harder than he currently was.