Rookie Lessons (Open -Rookies & new soldiers)

Dirt kicked up in the young Deacon's face as he was on one knee re tying his shoe laces. One thing that usually bothered him was walking around with loose laces. The uniform he had been issued was a nice snug fit, fresh and clean; clear indication of his rookie status. A stern expression gave way to a look of unclear purpose and motive as the rookie walked about the training grounds, examining the area and taking it all in. He watched as several groups trained here and there, some with hand to hand drills while others were talking about what Deacon could only assume was tactics.

Running a hand through his hair or rather what was left of it as it had been cut from it's former shoulder length to just above his ears. "Hmm...what now?" He asked out loud to himself as he leaned up against a wall just in the shade. Gulping down some spit in his mouth and finding it a bit dry, Deacon continued to lean up against the wall. "Man wheres the water hole or something around here?"

Deacon's eyes were closed as he seemed to rest a bit and had he been approached someone would have to speak up to get his attention.

Connor walked about the training grounds, wondering what to improve himself in next as he cracked his knuckles. After a recent sparring match with a garrison soldier, he knew he had to improve his non-lethal hand-to-hand skills. It wasn't going to be easy, as it demanded a great deal of restraint and, at least on his part, anger management.

It was then he spotted one of the new trainees resting in the shade, eyes closed and everything. He sighed through his nose at the slack. He began to walk up to him, rolling his heels to quieten his steps though as tall as he was it wouldn't be perfectly effective. If he did manage to get within the 'kill distance' he would speak in his raspy voice.

"Your guard's down..."

Deacon's eyes remained closed while Connor got within the distance of a 'kill' per-say. His ears lightly picked up the sound of his foot steps nut just barely and once his eyes opened the young male was lightly shocked at someone getting the drop on him. Lifting off the wall his eyes looked the male up and down before circling to the side, getting the wall to his side. "Hmm?" Had he gotten a word in it would just be that simple hmm.

Deacon was no stranger to a brawl or a tussle. One might consider that his specialty in a manner of speaking but to just be walked up on like that showed he was nervous and that was not the best thing to be in this day and age...in this core. "N-no reason to have it up..." There was a tone of confidence but also uncertainty to it as well. He was open to a strike if the male initiated any sort of attack.

Connor didn't make any attempt to strike, though he did have his arms grasped in front of him to prime him for a reflexive defense in case the Trainee didn't take too kindly to his sneaky approach. He managed to hear a stammer in what little the fellow Trainee managed to respond with, being put on the defense. At least he could get his guard up when he was aware.

"True..but it's better to train your awareness now than be caught without it in the field. Besides...No place is perfectly safe...even without the Titans." Connor spoke this with a voice of experience, and had a battle worn look to back it up.

Nodded as the wise words did strike a cord in his mind. This was the training ground and he did enjoy honing skills even if he had no idea where to begin. "You...are new too?" Deacon's tone sounded lightly filled with hope but mostly was caution in it. He stood up fully but was at a clear height and weight disadvantage with Connor. Seven inches and a forty pounds was their difference yet Deacon's timid nature was soon corrected.

"So...you've seen the Titans first hand?"

Deacon's hand went into his pocket and pulled out a small canteen and twisted the top off to sip on what little water was left in the container. "I've only heard stories but...I've seen their handiwork." His mind held the images of the maimed and injured members of the scouting regiment coming back from missions before. Looking over the new-ish outfit or what he assumed was new-ish he lightly offered a small salute to his fellow rookie, fist over his heart. "Names Deacon, Deacon Hanma."

Connor nodded, crossing his arms. "Somewhat...though we're both trainees so that doesn't matter that much." Being taller than the average man, Connor never paid much attention to the height distance, which wasn't such a bad thing as he could read other people's strength based on their body types, definition and other features rather than height alone.

The second question would receive a short response. "One...Just one." He sounded more disappointed than afraid.

Connor noted the emptying canteen, the new guy giving his name and a salute. Connor returned the traditional salute with firm discipline. "Graham. Connor Graham." He gestured Deacon to follow him to a well where he could refill his canteen. "Learning to fight them is one thing. Still having the will to fight after seeing them is what ends up making you a soldier. So I've been told, at least..."

His eyes scanned about the area and nodded in agreement. Canteen in hand remained in it as he began to follow Connor through the open area and to where the well was located. Dipping the canteen into the well until it was full, Deacon could not help but raise the container up to his lips for a long chug. His hair was a bit dried out from being stationary all day within the training grounds. He took two long chugs from the canteen before letting it rest full and in his pocket. "I've only heard the stories of them...five meters all the way to a fifteen meter one...is it true the walls were bashed in by a even larger Titan? More so then the walls??" He stopped himself and adjusted his shirt, "Forgot you only said one for a second..."

Popping his neck a bit until he was either indulged in the information he seeked or told otherwise, his eyes turned to the people fighting and training...

Looking around his eyes fell onto the people practicing hand to hand combat drills and free sparing. His sight lingers on them for a time before returning to Connor. "Any kind of information, even from one encounter, would be helpful for me if you would be up for sharing."

Connor rose a brow as Deacon went on about what he may have seen, though it was all something he had heard too. Regardless of what Deacon brought up, Connor's answer would be a simplified observation. "Whatever the rumors may be, and however true they are, what's important is that the Titans have found a way to breach the walls. Personally...that's all I need to know...how about you?" He asked as he splashed some well water on him, rubbing it over his head and letting it wet his mohawk a bit, the thick strip of hair starting to lay down along his head as he combed his fingers through it.

He turned and leaned against the well, watching the fist fighters with Deacon. He watched their movements, learning through observation. It wasn't the most effective way he had learned before, preferring to 'learn by doing.' but at least he could take notes on what to try next time he gets the action.

He heard Deacon's suggestion and stroked his goatee. "I'll tell as much as I can...though mine felt like it happened so fast..." He closed his eyes and tried to play that moment back in his head. Every now and then his face would do a disturbed twitch as though the memory would occasionally play a bit more vividly than he wanted. "Horses are effective in outmaneuvering them...one among my Company managed to cut it's ankle, slowing it's movement enough to give us more distance to escape. This one was slow though...likely not one of the abberants the classes have taught us. Even still...it was monstrous...we lost three of our own, including our Captain, before we managed to fend it off enough to escape..." Connor went on about he and the mercenaries he once ran with and didn't think that he hadn't already told Deacon about them.

The training in the background was enough to keep Deacon's attention but it was second to the information he was receiving. The twitches Connor's face made gave indication and the subtle hints at the horrors such a abomination Titans could and always were. As he was given more and more detail, more so then people whom speculated and just talking about 'what they thought' about it all past the wall. He nodded like a student taking notes, mental notes of what he was hearing.

'So they can be slowed down, typical human injures apply to their bodies they just regenerate far quicker then we do." He figured about the horses but knowing now would help boost him further in that area. The fact that they lost three even among one that was slow showed they were of course never to be looked down on. "I..." He seemed a bit hesitant but he nodded, "I see, they are not Immortal like many of the inner wall people say they are. They can be hurt and killed but...its a heavy cost. You..." He inched a bit closer. "You were able to go past the wall before becoming a full member? Is that part of the workings on becoming a member of the scout unit?"

Connor shook his head, realizing he probably didn't explain himself better. "I wasn't with the Scouts when we were attacked. I was with a mercenary company that I used to run with before joining the military. We were outside Wall Rose when Shiganshina was attacked, and didn't get word in time before the Titan attacked us. I think it was a 9 meter...maybe shorter...I can't pinpoint the size, I was young then.." He started to crack his knuckles again...it was clear he wasn't just here for the defense of humanity...he had a vendetta.

"Not with the scouts? Huh, never heard of another organization with permission to leave the walls, what was this group if you don't mind me asking?" He leaned on the well in a similar manner before going silent and thinking of how tall a nine meter titan would be. He knew that a fifteen meter was one foot shy of fifty feet but a nine meter one...still terrifying to think of. "I never saw one before...if I didn't say before. I was with my grandfather selling goods on his little merchant route at the second layer to the wall when we were first attacked."

Connor rose a brow as he felt he either wasn't explaining well enough or if Deacon didn't understand. "We were Zeus Squad, a mercenary band...and we were never outside the walls...we were just there when they came in. Does that make sense?" He asked followed by a repeat of what he had said. "We were outside Wall Rose when Shiganshina was attacked at Wall Maria."

There was the smell of sweat and dirt near the well as he knew that many of the new trained soldiers had to use this well to get their fill of that satisfying liquid called water. His eyes peered down to the cold life saver in the little canteen he held onto like a memento from his past. "It does I understand just..." He sighed and let his shoulders slump a little as in disappointment. Splashing some of the water onto his face a bit he shook it off and let the heat dry it off a bit. "I'm just...I want to fight those things. I know putting my life on the line against something I don't even have a clue what it looks like, just a large person-thing. Know your enemy, I want to know my enemy and no one else has spoken of them in any informative manner except the fear." He shrugged and made a 'you know?' kind of expression.

The group training near them looked to be taking a break and the spot was open for some combat training and he motioned over to it to Connor, "Care to have a go?"

Connor started to trail into a nod as Deacon spoke. "They have a right to fear them..." He answered as his eyes seemed to swim for a moment at the thought of the one he encountered. "You are better off asking someone of more...experience than I. But I will say this...once you do see one, then and only then will you truly decide if you want to fight them or not."

Connor looked over at the now vacant training spot and nodded. "Why not..." He removed his jacket, letting it fall with a dull thud from the weights, now wearing his solid grey undershirt as he rolled his shoulders to stretch and readjust them to the lightness. "Any handicaps?"

Taking a few moments to breath and get his mind right, there was a second that he had envisioned the Titan that Connor and his band of mercs had encountered but that was a mistake. The very thought of the embodiment of helplessness that is a human in the hands of the titans was...unsettling to say the very least! Removing his own jacket and folding it a bit then placing it on the ground, Deacon did a few stretches. Lifting his knees into his chest and then throws a few light jabs before he turned to Connor. That fear in his eyes had faded for the spar to come. "Broken bones and the like of course is a no go...everything else...try to give me a black eye."

Connor rose his fists up chest level, his arms closing tight to the body, giving it much needed protection though doing little to protect his head. "No promises on the broken bones part..." Connor sized him up...Deacon was slightly shorter but stout, no doubt stronger than even Connor was. With the kind of stock Deacon was made of, Connor had to count on his speed and cunning.

Connor would make the first move, shifting closer and reaching back for what would appear to be a long right jab, but would actually be a feint as it was used to counterbalance a swooping kick attempt from his right leg to Deacon's left knee.

Deacon could not promise on the broken bones portion either had he gotten angry. He wanted to refrain from getting more then irritated in this bout for fear that he'd loose focus and get hurt or hurt Connor in the process. His thoughts on the issue were enough to make him blink at the feint that earned his attention. Connor was much quicker then Deacon that much was certain. He looked quite stout himself, with the red head only having about a dozen or so pounds more on him then anything...though he could not know that his brain worked a tad bit faster then his opponent's.

Taking the kick to the opposite leg, Deacon nearly fell flat on his face but caught himself before that and was quickly re balanced onto one knee. 'Won't beat him with speed.' pasted through his mind before attempting to reach up and gran Connor by the waist band of his pants and throw a looping hook into his other side. This gave him a chance to land a hit but also made him very easy as a target himself.

Two hotheaded warriors going toe to toe? There was going to be blood no doubt but hopefully it wouldn't get out of control.

In an instant this became a no holds barred fight as Connor was grabbed by the waist of his pants and pulled into a thunderous hook that his lowered elbow barely defended against. He actually felt his muscles tighten where the blow struck, numbing sparks tingling during the recovery. Deacon was definitely strong, and would put Connor's endurance to the test. As close as he was, Connor knew if he stayed inside much longer it was going to be painful, so he had to try to spare some distance by throwing a firm elbow into the center of Deacon's chest, trying to be a bit lax with the strike as he knew it was a pressure point that would likely do more than knock the wind out of the stocky brawler if he gave it full power, for now hoping to get him to stagger so he could keep his distance.

Grappling his opponent was the first step and the landing of the hit was the second one but it getting blocked derailed what Deacon had planned. The elbow that was impacted by his fist caused a settling amount of pain to shoot up the knuckles and through the forearm as his nerves fired off to tell him that another solid blow like that could seriously damage his hand if he went full force. That blow was about ninety percent his strength, lightly holding back just a bit. What came next was quick and precise and knocked some air from his lungs, earning Connor the stagger and distance he wanted.

Feeling the air knocked from his lungs earned Connor a little more time then he might have intended for as the stout powerhouse held his chest hacking and coughing." Ack! Haaur!" Shaking it off and walking a bit towards Connor, Deacon knew he might have to weather an early storm, he was just as tough as Connor was quick if not a wee bit more at best. He'd block a few blows and try to tank them best he could before trying his hand at grabbing Connor in a bear hug and use his upper body strength to throw him to the floor in a greco-roman wrestling manner of sorts.

Connor kept the upper hand as best he could, using his well rounded strength and agility to overwhelm Deacon as best he could, but nothing he could hit him with would be enough to make the stout brawler lose his footing. 'Incredible...what kind of hell has this man been through to have this fortitude..?' He thought to himself, having to change his strategy to something more conservative to hold back a decent amount of energy. Of course, he wouldn't think of this strategy before he was suddenly grappled by the bear of a trainee, sent crashing down with Deacon now having an incredible high ground advantage.

Once again, Connor had to find his distance. his knees went up to his chest, springing his feet upward as hard as he could to pry Deacon away from him.

Deacon was a beast of a man when it came to brute strength and so far that was proving to be his bread and butter in this bout though he lacked the speed for the sure victory. Connor was a strong man in his own right and fast to boot, the man was like a bucking Bronco as Deacon did most if not all he could to remain holding onto him. There was a moment he nearly lost all his handling on Connor but he leaped back onto him to keep him pinned only to get launched off by both feet kicking him away for a few feet. Rolling with the kick, Deacon quickly got up but not as fast as Connor could and dashed at him with a clenched fist low to the ground. Aiming to clock the Mohawk warrior with a hail mary looping uppercut if he did not move out of the way. Missing would send Deacon far off balance and give Connor several openings for flush attacks.

Connor sprung up once Deacon was thrown back, feeling his entire right leg nearly lock up from a jolt of pain. He had strained a muscle in his right calf when he kicked Deacon off. 'Damn, not now.' he thought to himself. He would need his legs if he was to stand victorious in this bout. He gathered himself, trying not to show any weakness, a discipline he was trained in since early childhood so it was likely he wouldn't show any signs.

Though if he was to stand a chance in emerging from this session victorious, he would have to use Deacon's strength against him. He stood his ground, arms raised with the elbows hooked out to the sides. He wouldn't have the footwork to dodge it and counter with a series of punches, so he had to make the most of what movement he had now, leaning away from Deacon's uppercut and clasping his arms inwards to catch the punch by the biceps, pressing down on the lump of muscle just behind the elbow tendon and swinging it under to use Deacon's momentum against him in a grapple, attempting to throw him to the floor and send him dragging on his back away from him again.