Heroic Poetic

"Thought you would. Everyone likes free things after all." Gale teased as he extended a hand to Alfred. "Shake on it."

Alfred took Gale's hand and shook strong and hard. The deal was sealed.

"…Hmm." Gale tapped his chin before looking at Alfred curiously. "Well in that case, how about this: I’ll pay for you to do this for a month. One month. During that time you give me the best you can give me Alfred. That should make things interesting."

Alfred smiled and nodded. This could work like one of Pavlov's experiments. He would find motivation in coming and trying hard.  "I quite like this idea. Let's give it a shot."

Help him think of a reason? Gale gave him a confused looked before merely shrugging, grabbing his water bottle again before taking a seat. “Technically, yeah, anything could work. Most of my students are here because they don’t want to get hurt again. Some need to fight for their profession, some fight to keep their loved ones safe. And some just like it cause of the workout. Are you one of those types?” He asked curiously, looking over at Alfred.

Alfred sighed and shook his head. "I used to do it for the exercise, but not so much anymore. I don't know what I do it for now. Maybe because I've already paid. I don't know."

Gale sighed and got up, brushing himself off. “Alfred, I’m gonna say this as nicely as possible. You….need to have a reason. Because if you don’t have a reason to fight, you won’t have motivation for it either. Understand? I’m not going to stop you from coming here, but I do think you should think about your reasoning.”

"You're right. I'll find a reason. I'll find a motivation. Would anything work?" Alfred stared out the window and caught himself watching the clouds move through the sky like white fish in the brightest blue waters. He searched in the clouds for a reason.  "C-can you help me think of one?"

She tried to ignore the American as much as possible, focus more on her skating, afterall, that as what she was meant to do, not chat up strange men at the side of an icerink. Kaija tried to shake the thought of him writing about her out of her head as she went into a split jump, arms extended to extend the line and grace of the movement, her landing a little clunky although it still allowed her to transfer into a spin, her arms folded across her chest, as if she were to be buried in the morning. Again, she struggled to gain the speed she wanted, but to an outsider it still looked pretty sweet.

He watched her try to be perfect to herself, yet to him she already was. The flaws made her. She was human, and he rarely found anyone who was these days. He wrote about coffee and feelings, but never humans. He decided to call it a night, slamming his brown covered booklet shut before getting up and leaving. McDonald's was probably open at this time. He decided that he would hide in there, eating and editing his work. The man left the rink in silence.

Gale looked at him and sighed, pushing himself into a sitting position. “Alfred, why did you take this class?” He asked quietly. “Actually, let me rephrase that. What is the reason that you fight?”

Alfred looked down at his feet, trying to rack his brain for the real reason. It wasn't because he certainly wanted to. Fighting wasn't his thing. Was it the cheap deal? Was it the thrill of the experience? He shook his head. "I... I don't know."

'Beautiful' wasn't generally a word used to describe Kaija. Drunk? Yes. Intimidating? Yes. Agressive? Perhaps, but never beautiful. She'd never considered being beautiful before; it didn't fit in with her needs. Almost immediately as the words fell out of his mouth, her pale complexion took on a hue which could only be described as 'tomato', cringing inwards slightly.  "O-oh, okay, uh, carry on then I suppose," she mumbled, feeling a lot more… not exactly shy, but her brash confidence and lack of tact felt a little depleted. 

Alfred smirked at the girl and looked back down upon his notepad, scratching away with the writing tool and creating an image using words. The girl seemed shy, almost. He tried to write that into his work. He looked up to watch the girl glide around the ice as though it were her home. She was elegant in ways that Alfred was unfamiliar with. Something that most girls were not. He liked it. It was special, unique, mystical. 

Gale sighed and let go of his shirt, sitting up straight. “You really need to work on your ground fighting techniques Alfred…” He murmured as he climbed off of him and laid down on his back. “Straddle my waist like I just did to you, and make like you’re going to hit me.”

Her frown deepened; why would he need to apologize? Surely he couldn’t be doing something so bad that would cause him to be flushing such a deep colour. Scrunching her nose slightly, even more confused than before [and it wasn’t natural for the ever-pragmatic Finn to be confused], therefore she felt like she must use her words. Skating towards where he was sat, she leant on the barrier, ensuring she didn't make a fool of herself by falling over.  "Why did you apologize, sir?" she asked, trying to be as polite as possible, despite the fact she was being uncharacteristically nosy - the city had a bad effect on her.

"O-oh, I thought... I felt I was being weird watching you like that," he stuttered, hiding a bit behind his notepad. "I just thought you looked so beautiful out there..." The chill of autumn air began to lap at his face and cheeks, bringing a chill he was unfamiliar with in the past months. The girl did not seem annoyed at him, yet lost as to why he was there and what he wanted.

Gale walked over and sat down so he was straddling, grabbing the front of his shirt and making a fist. “Alright, remember how to get out of this?”

"Not really, no..." Alfred was slightly frightened. In a real fight, he would be stuffed.

Growling to herself as she made an error in one of the steps, she shook her head slightly, knowing that it was too soon to push herself into too complex maneuvers. Scrunching her nose, she couldn't help but feel as if she was being watched, examined, by one of the general public, eyes narrowing suspiciously as they landed upon the young man who was scribbling upon a pad, his attentions split. Huffing to herself, she stuffed her gloved hands into the pockets of her hooded jumper and skated closer to where he was sat, curious as to what was upon the paper. Figure Skaters could be pretty poetic, although usually when they were half-decent.

Alfred's glasses flashed as he looked up to find the skating girl staring at him. She obviously did not know he was gazing at her and drawing her with words. He felt his face heat up and began blushing. He was bright pink for sure, and his lenses may have began to fog up. Normally, he is not caught in his observances. He felt bad. Was this considered stalking? He mouthed a 'sorry' to the girl before lowering his head once more, contemplating whether he should rip the page out or not. 

Break Time II Alfredthebard

skating in circles [ open ]

Inspiration sprung forth from the strangest of places. Her eyes scanned the area, making sure she was aware of the space she had, lest she bump into some poor, innocent public skater. Gaining a little bit of speed, she tested out a basic lunge, her skills admittedly a little rusty - her flexibility just wasn’t the same, especially due to, y’know, not practicing in lieu of studying, sleeping, working, the important stuff really. Ice skating just hadn’t been factored into the equation. Of course, she remembered a time when the notion of skating was sickening but now… she yearned for it, almost. When she was on the ice, she was almost oblivious to the world. Well, except for when she paused to snigger at those who weren’t as skilled at the whole staying on two feet thing.

Alfred wrote any word that popped into his mind. The pen began to flow like a river and words appeared on the page with lightning speed. A line turned into a verse and then into a full poem. There was something about this skater that let his mind live freely. He watched her on the rink. He could see no flaw in her. 

Alfred got into the stance and nodded. This was surprisingly fun, and he thought he was picking this up easily enough. 

"S-sure," Alfred was a little frightened. He was never any good at this. Once, he messed his arm up trying. But he was going to do it. If he was less stiff then maybe it could work.