Heatproof? (Kat)

[Romeo Buckland]

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“What the hell is taking those guys so long?” grumbled Romeo as he sat on one of the benches outside the school buildings, just a few paces from where the gate currently is. He let out a low growl as he tilted his head back and ran his fingers through his curly hair, doing nothing to mask the irritation he’s feeling at the moment. It’s quite the rare occasion for the sun to shine this nicely, so he and a few friends have decided to head out to the lake.

Unfortunately for the boy, his friends seem to be taking their sweet, sweet time getting ready. It’s been fifteen minutes and still there’s not a friend of his in sight.

Bored beyond compare, he started playing with the volleyball he ‘borrowed’ from the telekinetic who lives across their room. He tossed it up and kept the ball airborne through some well-timed punches. The Irish teen managed to keep it up for a while, until he accidentally punched the ball a little too much on the side, causing it to bounce off and hit a boy in the head before rolling away. “Hey turd,” yelled Romeo, “Mind passing the ball back?”

Apology? What’s that?

[Katurian Arsov]

The bruises from his fight with Henry had pretty much healed, but Ivan had split Kat’s lip when he’d made his ill-advised assault on the older man, and that still had yet to patch itself up. He didn’t really mind – it meant that people were more inclined to leave him alone, and that was all he wanted. At least, he told himself that it was.

Katurian never really knew what to do on his days off – he didn’t have anyone to hang out with, or any family to visit. He’d taken to going out walking, trying to get out of the school for as long as possible and see countryside that was completely different to what he was used to. Today the sun was actually in the sky, and Kat would be stupid to stay inside and not enjoy it: as soon as he was allowed to go, he’d stepped outside.

It was the first summer since his accident in Russia, so he was still getting used to the scars – the warmth in the air meant that he was forced to put on a short-sleeved t-shirt, and his heavily-scarred right arm was bare for the first time in a long time. Kat wasn’t usually self-conscious about the way he looked, but this was different – he kept his head down to avoid being noticed as much as possible.

Unfortunately, that posture meant that he didn’t see the volleyball coming – it struck him on the side of the head, drawing a startled yelp from Kat before it rolled to the floor. Kat picked it up, looking around with a fierce scowl: his eyes lit on Romeo when the other boy shouted, and anger flashed through him. Had it been deliberate? He missed what Romeo said to him, instead turning to look at him with a cold gaze. Kat didn’t take even a step closer to Romeo, remaining exactly where he had frozen to the spot. ‘This is yours?’ he asked, holding the ball up.

[Romeo Buckland]

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Kat’s cold gaze (unfortunately) did not intimidate Romeo, not one bit. Considering his less than cordial behaviour to most, he’s received enough sneers to last him three lifetimes for him to not really care. Such experiences also told him that 99% of the time, people who do give him such looks are more bark than bite.

He has no idea how to differentiate the 1% from the 99% though.

If anything, the combination of the supposedly intimidating look and the blank question elicited an unamused and tired chuckle from the Irish teen, rolling his eyes and shaking his head before giving Kat the most sarcastic grin he can muster. “No, it’s not. I’m just calling you out because you have a ball in your hand and I want to play with a ball right now.” He’s not sure if what he said even made sense, but that’s beside the point. “Now can you pass it back. As much as I enjoy our little chat, I’d rather not look at your disgusting arm right now; it’s making me sick. Friendly advice, keep that shit covered up or you’ll never get laid. That stuff’s worse than what my nightmares can come up with.”

“Ball please?” There. He said please. He says Kat could never fault him now for not using the magic word.

[Katurian Arsov]

It was probably lucky for Romeo that the combination of his accent, his vocabulary and the speed at which he spoke rendered him pretty much incomprehensible to Katurian. However, the tone of his voice needed no translation – Kat could hear only aggressive sarcasm. Romeo looked at his arm, and Kat gave him a faintly inquisitive glance; but he could guess what the other boy was saying, and only offered him a thin smile.

The way Kat saw it, he had two options: walk away, or fight. Well, judging from Romeo’s behaviour, walking wasn’t an option. And while he had been recently told that fighting was frowned upon here, he still didn’t quite believe it. In Odarennyi, this behaviour would only have led to one thing: a punch-up.

As far as he was concerned, Romeo was picking a fight with him. Kat looked rather thoughtfully between the other boy and the volleyball he was holding in his hands. Romeo had said things that couldn’t go ignored.

There was still a lot of space between the two of them – nobody would get hurt. So Katurian did what he would have done at the school he’d attended for three years: he put the ball down and took a couple of steps back. His eyes met Romeo’s and held his gaze as Kat melted the ball into a puddle of smoking, stinking rubber.

It only took thirty seconds. Very neat work, his trainers would have been proud. Kat turned on his heel and started to walk away.

[Romeo Buckland]

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“What. The. Fuck. What. The. Fucking. Fuck.”

What Katurian did really caught the Irish teen off-guard. When he saw the boy put the ball down, he actually smirked and readied himself to catch it, thinking the Russian would be kicking it to him and he’d want to show him that he can easily grab it midair (and thus, supposedly, easily winning the face-off). The burning of the ball was something he’s never encountered before, so he was left staring with wide eyes and an open jaw as the ball sizzled and burned.

“Hey. Just where do you think you’re going jerk?” Romeo yelled as he tried to catch up to Kat, his initially rhythmic pace turning into a wild rush as he grabbed the boy by his collar and pinned him up to a nearby tree. “I did ask you nicely, right?” he said in between gritted teeth as he lifted his right arm and sent a punch aimed at Kat’s face.

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[Katurian Arsov]

Romeo’s reaction to seeing his volleyball melted into a liquid state was actually pretty satisfying, and Kat couldn’t help but smile as he walked away. Some people were so easy to wind up, and at Odarennyi it would have been considered perfectly legitimate to get revenge like that on someone who had started picking a fight with you.

He wasn’t stupid, though – he had been able to tell at a glance what kind of person Romeo was: the kind who would chase after you. So he wasn’t taken remotely by surprise when he heard the other boy coming up after him, and his expression as he was pinned to the tree was completely neutral.

That, more than anything else, was a warning sign. Katurian was only calm when he was really ready for a fight.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t fighting back, though. Kat wasn’t about to stand there and let Romeo hold him: he struggled against the bigger boy, trying to get enough room so that he could aim a swift knee at Romeo’s abdomen. He saw the punch coming and ducked his head to try and avoid it – Romeo’s fist caught his ear, though, and he gave a small yelp of pain before aiming his right fist at the other boy’s stomach.

[Romeo Buckland]

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While Romeo did not have much formal combat training (not like Hammel offers those anyway), he did grow up with a number of rowdy male cousins. Cuts and bruises were as normal as the rising sun, especially since he had a douchebag of an older brother who picks on him in every given opportunity. Probably the reason why the boy grew up to be quite the jerk - having in perpetual need to prove himself to be the alpha male of the pack.

The Irish teen was so tempted to shift into his armoured form; after all, it would effectively increase his strength, raise the intensity of his punches as well as provide limited invulnerability against the other boy’s blows, things that’ll hopefully teach Kat not to mess with him next time. But he doesn’t want to seem like a wimp, and he’s definitely not in the mood to get naked in front of the pyrokinetic. (Unfortunate side-effect really).

Self-control and all that. If he gets pounded bad, well, he might just have to rethink it.

He let out a small yelp of pain as his fist instead hit the tree, quickly retracting his arm and shaking it for a bit. This little ‘retreat’ lasted for a good two seconds, enough for him not to see the incoming punch to his abdomen.

“Ugh,” he groaned as he stumbled back, clutching his stomach and effectively releasing the Russian. Gritting his teeth, he rushed to the boy, pouncing on him to pin him to the ground.

[Katurian Arsov]

There was a small, satisfied smile on Katurian’s face when he felt his fist sink into Romeo’s abdomen – the pained noise the other boy made was music to his ears, and he launched himself away from the tree as soon as Romeo let him go to deal with his own problems. But he hadn’t given this boy enough credit: he barely had time to react to the sound of Romeo approaching before he was flat on the floor, Romeo’s full weight keeping his body pinned down.

Formal fight training did take place at Odarennyi, and the students were always encouraged to practise by themselves – it helped to keep them sharp. Reacting in class is very different to reacting on the spot, and Kat was startled to realise that he hadn’t done this kind of thing regularly for a couple of months, now. Whereas once this would all have been second nature, now he couldn’t work out how to dislodge Romeo. He was the better fighter, but this boy was bigger than he was.

When he’d hit the floor, his face had made contact with the ground – Kat didn’t think anything was broken, but he definitely had a nosebleed. Coughing blood away, Kat struggled – he finally managed to free one arm and lash out at Romeo, struggling to find the words in English to tell him to get off. Claustrophobic under Romeo’s weight, Kat wriggled as much as he could.

‘Get off me!’ he managed to gasp eventually – voice angry rather than pleading. It was an order, not a wish.

[Romeo Buckland]

[/justify]Whatever pain the Irish teen was feeling – and believe me, that punch Kat gave him had quite the kick, weird as that little phrase might sound – was suddenly replaced by perverted satisfaction when he successfully pounced on and pinned the boy to the ground. The boy’s instincts quickly kicked in, shifting himself around and planting his knees firmly on the smaller boy’s shoulders to add stability to his hold.

Usually when the match with his cousins and/or brother reaches such a point, it’s almost always game over already. Years of roughhousing with them had allowed him to perfect a way of pinning them down and rendering them unable to struggle out, leaving him free to assault their head (or any part of their body for that matter) as much as he wants. Unfortunately for Romeo though, Kat isn’t like any of his cousins; the boy obviously knew what to do when trapped and all his wriggling is preventing Romeo from being able to get a clear shot (so to speak).

It doesn’t help that he keeps on getting hit by the boy’s free arm on the side. (So much for taking his shirt off in the lake; he doesn’t need to look to know that it’s peppered with bruises already).

After letting out a guttural growl (and a couple of expletives on the side), he used one hand to grab the boy’s free arm, holding it at the wrist, and pinning it down on the ground, as he placed his elbow on Kat’s neck with the tip of it pointing directly at the boy’s nape. With his other free hand he pulled Kat’s hair and hissed to his ear, “Say please.”[/justify][/blockquote]
ooc:
Ugh. Apologies for the disgusting post Sandrine. Fight threads, for some reason, simply hate me. If I accidentally GM-ed or you just feel like I need to edit some things out, feel free to PM me. . Thanks! =).
- Jam[/font]

[Katurian Arsov]

Katurian was no fool – you didn’t mess around when someone was threatening your neck or head. It was the place where an assailant could do the most damage, and Kat had no intention of injuring himself by struggling when he was in such a vulnerable position.

He went completely still as soon as he felt the hard point of Romeo’s elbow against the back of his neck, and closed his eyes in anticipation of something very, very unpleasant. But then his head was wrenched up by the hair, and he could hear the older boy’s voice in his ear.

It was actually probably quite lucky that his English wasn’t up to scratch yet. Because in Russia he most likely would have come out with something along the lines of: ‘You want me to say please in this position? I didn’t know that turned you on.’ – and that wasn’t likely to be the wisest thing to say, given the circumstances. Antagonising people was one thing, but when you weren’t sure you could beat them then it wasn’t a good idea at all.

Then again, when had Kat ever done the most logical thing? He’d already proved that he didn’t pay attention to that kind of reasoning. So he turned his head in Romeo’s grip until they were making eye contact, raised one eyebrow, and asked: ‘Please for what?’ in the most suggestive tone he could muster with a mouth full of blood. The smirk on his face made it obvious that he was taking the piss. It wasn’t as eloquent as he wanted to be, but it was the best he could do for the moment.

If there was one thing he had learned at Odarennyi, it was that you might as well try as hard as you could. Even if what you were trying hard to do was get punched into next week.

[Romeo Buckland]

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Romeo let another disgruntled growl when he heard Katurian’s mocking reply. Though the Irish boy maintains that he can take it as much as he can dish it (and believe me, he dishes it lots), their predicament was far from being playful teasing. It never was, and from the look of things, it never will be. Kat’s bruised his ego when he burned Romeo’s ball and gave his stomach quite the beating; his pride demands retribution.

He tightened the grip he had on the boy’s hair and even pulled his head back rather roughly. “To give you the rough fucking you deserve,” he replied, his voice just reeking of sarcasm, “Don’t think your frail body can handle it, but hey, if you ask nicely, I just might.” And just to clarify things, Romeo insists that the only part of him that wants to have an intimate connection with Kat is his fist to the boy’s face. And maybe to the boy’s stomach too, since his fist is a whore like that.

Pinning Kat down while pulling his hair and whispering to his ear made the Irish boy to contort into quite the uncomfortable position though, at least one that’s a bit too much to maintain for such a long period of time. This made him unconsciously shift his weight a bit, and though it’s not much, it just might be enough for Kat to flip him over, even reverse the situation for a while.

[Katurian Arsov]

Kat wasn’t going to pretend that he understood all of Romeo’s little speech, but he understood enough – and the other boy’s tone was definitely easy enough for him to read without his needing to decipher all the words. He had to admit it to himself, even just for a short moment: this was his kind of person. Kat even managed a short bark of laughter, and was pleased to realise that this seemed to throw Romeo off-guard for a just a moment.

That was all he needed. Katurian surged upward and twisted – now he was on top of Romeo, pinning him down by his shoulders and letting one knee rest, almost casually, on the older boy’s stomach. The threat was there: if Romeo moved, Kat would be able to used a lot of force with one quick movement of his leg.

‘Say please,’ he asked with a grin, laughter threatening again in his voice. If he was right, the one thing Romeo would hate the most would be to be left alone – so Kat just flashed another smile at the other boy, pushed him roughly into the ground, and moved quickly: he was off of Romeo and a couple of steps away in hardly any time.

He stood, still tensed for a fight, and looked down at Romeo. ‘You want try again?’ Kat asked, eyebrows raised in question, a slightly mocking smirk still on his face. He had the measure of the other boy now – unless Romeo had any nasty surprises up his sleeve.

[Romeo Buckland]

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While Romeo knew that Katurian would most certainly attempt to turn the tables around and reverse their positions, he definitely did not see it happening this fast, nor did he see it happening this way. The smaller boy wasn’t at all gentle with the transition too, which made the Irish teen yelp in pain and growl in protest.

And just when he thought the surprises were finally over (and Kat would give him a beating that’ll shut him up for good), he got pushed down had and the next thing he knows, the boy’s finally off him, looking at him down with a confident grin on his face he’d do anything to wipe away.

“Was I that good then?” he smirked as he slowly stood up, not once breaking away from the Russian’s stare. He was clearly being made fun of – underestimated even – so he figured that it’s about time to finish the whole thing off and show the boy how wrong he was.

He took a deep breath, and within seconds, shiny silver plates started covering every inch of his body, the extra layer proving to be rather thick and ripping his clothing (in all the right places). But he didn’t care; he could always tell his friends that it’s their fault for being late and they should suffer the consequence of waiting for him change later. After all, if they have been there on time, he wouldn’t be bored and wouldn’t have gotten himself in this mess.

Or so he thinks.

He gave Kat a smug wink as he got into position, beckoning him to come closer with his hands. “Round two?”

[Katurian Arsov]

‘Oh, very good,’ Kat replied dryly in answer to Romeo’s question, keeping his eyes on the other boy as he got to his feet. What’s he so cocky about? he wondered – but he was only left wondering it for a moment, because then Romeo’s skin started turning silver, and Katurian suddenly found that his question had been well and truly answered.

Oh. That.

He couldn’t help it – he was smiling. A small grin of wonder and delight: nobody had challenged him like this since he’d come to this stupid country, and it looked as if things were finally, finally going to get interesting. If it wouldn’t have landed him a punch in the face, he would have applauded.

How many options did he have? There would be no point in trying to use his fire to damage Romeo, since it probably wouldn’t work – he could only burn things which were flammable, and there was nothing around which could do any damage. Besides, Romeo looked pretty flame-proof at the moment.

He also looked pretty difficult to punch, and Kat didn’t fancy trying. But all that had to be heavy, and there was one thing Katurian was pretty sure he would be better at doing than Romeo when he was in that getup: running.

‘You can catch me?’ Katurian asked, already beginning to walk backwards away from Romeo – it wasn’t cowardice, merely a tactical retreat. Kat had learned a lot about fighting over the past three years, and the first thing he had learned was never to engage someone if you knew you had no chance of beating them one-on-one.

And when your opponent is covered in metal scales, considerably bigger, heavier and more protected than you, it’s safe to say that running is definitely the best option.

[Romeo Buckland]

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Romeo, at that point, was the very definition of a tank: hard-hitting, near impenetrable and quite immobile.

It’s actually the side-effect of his transformation that his trainer wants him to work on. Without his armoured plates, the Irish teen can easily hoist himself up trees and scale walls, even when inebriated. (And believe me, he frequently sneaks out and comes back in the wee hours of the morning drunk as a skunk). He’s also among the fastest runners in his gym class, as years spent in the Irish outdoors had kept the boy’s body at its prime. When the plates form though, all his maneuverability goes down to a measly 30% of what he can do before, 40% if he’s lucky. In fact, during his first few days, he’s pretty much like a statue, unable to even move his fingers or turn his neck to the side.

“Coward!” he yelled as he tried his best to keep up with the Russian, one step of his equivalent to four or five of Katurian’s.