[She leans into it as his arm wraps around his waist. She still holds onto him, light, just the touch of her fingers against his neck. But there's a comfort to it, the contact, it makes the grating knowledge of it, of having this dragged out in front of not just her, but someone else made to watch what those days were like.]
Yes. That's Ivan.
[The answer is quiet, simple. The knife spins on the ground; a good knife, carved handle, and Ava lunges for it, grabbing it from the floor and holding it in a reverse grip. There are many things the Red Room tries to take from you, but the one thing you can never allow yourself to be is weak. And so she goes for the knife. Ivan's smile is sharp, but he's clearly pleased to some extent that she took the knife.
Ava is all sharp edges, and there's even a flash of teeth before she's crossing the distance. She's got ability, fast and agile, her frame small but lithe, and she's light on her feet as she closes the distance, but the way she moves is clearly unfinished. Fighting for her at this age is mostly survival and desperation, even if she's one the best of her class, they're all still young.
Ivan on the other hand, is larger, has a longer reach, and has decades of skill. She slashes at him and he sidesteps and hits her hard, knocking her down. But Ava's eyes are hard and hot and she gets back up to her feet. And this repeats, over and over, with Ivan growing harsher in the ways that he knocks her down, until bruises pepper her arms and her lips are split and she has a bloody nose. But she doesn't falter. She drags herself back to her feet, time and again.
She doesn't know when to stay down.]
<< An animal needs to learn to heel the hand that feeds it. >>
[Ava's smile is bloody and bitter as she meets his eyes.] << I'm not an animal. >>
[And that's when Ivan frowns, something stormy and disappointed in his eyes and he pulls out a knife, pushing the offensive, and Ava manages to avoid the first two strikes, but it's graceless. Falling and rolling off her shoulder, sliding out of the way. Then the blade cuts into her shirt, slicing the fabric and leaving thin red lines, controlling the blade, trying to make a point. He doesn't really cut her, not badly. But as she dodges the blade, he backhands her across the temple and midstrike it's not hard for him to knock the knife from her hand. He nods to the soldiers and they grab her, dragging her small body off somewhere as she struggles.
Ava holds onto Rumlow a little bit tighter, her heart racing.] It wasn't a good place.
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Yes. That's Ivan.
[The answer is quiet, simple. The knife spins on the ground; a good knife, carved handle, and Ava lunges for it, grabbing it from the floor and holding it in a reverse grip. There are many things the Red Room tries to take from you, but the one thing you can never allow yourself to be is weak. And so she goes for the knife. Ivan's smile is sharp, but he's clearly pleased to some extent that she took the knife.
Ava is all sharp edges, and there's even a flash of teeth before she's crossing the distance. She's got ability, fast and agile, her frame small but lithe, and she's light on her feet as she closes the distance, but the way she moves is clearly unfinished. Fighting for her at this age is mostly survival and desperation, even if she's one the best of her class, they're all still young.
Ivan on the other hand, is larger, has a longer reach, and has decades of skill. She slashes at him and he sidesteps and hits her hard, knocking her down. But Ava's eyes are hard and hot and she gets back up to her feet. And this repeats, over and over, with Ivan growing harsher in the ways that he knocks her down, until bruises pepper her arms and her lips are split and she has a bloody nose. But she doesn't falter. She drags herself back to her feet, time and again.
She doesn't know when to stay down.]
<< An animal needs to learn to heel the hand that feeds it. >>
[Ava's smile is bloody and bitter as she meets his eyes.] << I'm not an animal. >>
[And that's when Ivan frowns, something stormy and disappointed in his eyes and he pulls out a knife, pushing the offensive, and Ava manages to avoid the first two strikes, but it's graceless. Falling and rolling off her shoulder, sliding out of the way. Then the blade cuts into her shirt, slicing the fabric and leaving thin red lines, controlling the blade, trying to make a point. He doesn't really cut her, not badly. But as she dodges the blade, he backhands her across the temple and midstrike it's not hard for him to knock the knife from her hand. He nods to the soldiers and they grab her, dragging her small body off somewhere as she struggles.
Ava holds onto Rumlow a little bit tighter, her heart racing.] It wasn't a good place.