meadowlarklogs | you learned to breathe underwater

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you learned to breathe underwater —

WHO: caroline forbes & you!
WHERE: the safehouse
WHEN: october 10
WHAT: an impromptu birthday celebration.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: excessive cheeriness.

[ by mid-day, a new message appears on the network from a new user, @caroline.forbes: ]

It's my birthday, apparently, so I made cake. Please don't make me eat all of it!

[ it's a fairly short message, but it's at least accompanied by a few photos of a cake, surprisingly delicious looking for being made of everything but chocolate.

those in the safehouse will have likely heard caroline baking up a storm all morning, and may be aware that the photos show her fourth attempt at this extremely finicky futuristic cake. by the time she posts her photos, all the evidence has been scrubbed clean from the countertops (and dishes and floor and tabletops and trash cans) of the safehouse kitchen. ]

—

ooc note: feel free to have your character reply on the network, come by in person, or a combination thereof. this post is a combo pack because i didn't feel like making a network and log post on the same day. #lazy

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

not much of a sweet tooth, actually
wrap it up and save it for yourself
never know when you'll need it

i'm more of a salty snacks kind of girl, to be honest.
if i get hangry, i'll have to sneak out for some fries.

[ or a snack. ]

i think the party's all wrapped up, though, since you asked.

( there's a brief space of time without any response, before caroline gets a simple message: a gps pin a few blocks away from the safehouse, along with, )

meet me here, ten minutes

[ he's lucky the sun has set. she hasn't had many opportunities to leave the safehouse — she'd only gotten her leash cut the day before, after all, and though she'd gone for a walk that evening just for some fresh air, she hadn't been gone very long. she's a little more eager, now, to follow the gps pin towards the rendezvous point.

eager enough to show up early, run a few exhilarated laps around the block, and then ricochet back to the meeting place. if he's there, she doesn't spot him. doesn't hear him, either, which is strange. ]

i know it's been only seven minutes, but i really hope gps maps in the future don't have a learning curve.

( jason rarely goes outside when the sun is up. occupational hazard, maybe; he's a night owl, works better late than during the day when everyone else is functioning. the only time this had swapped a bit was when everyone else was up at night. and even then--jason was still up, just a little less visually active.

caroline shows up early so she sees when the bike approaches. bright neon red around the rims of what would have been tires, if they didn't live in the age of hover-everything. he's wearing a dark leather jacket, "oh, is it finally over?" embroidered in red along the back, red helmet covering his face. when he pulls up, he raises a black one (green paint lingering on the back) to offer it over to caroline, along with a hair tie held against it with his index finger. )

Rule one: don't bite me when I'm driving.

Wow.

[ unrestrained appreciation for a sweet ride? absolutely, without hesitation — caroline's expression blooms without so much as a beat into a wide smile, two hands quickly tugging shoulder-length hair into a low ponytail before they settle the helmet down over her head.

as she swings a leg over and settles in, her chin drops to rest atop his shoulder for a brief moment, cheerfully acknowledging the first of potentially many bite-time restrictions. ]

Don't worry. I'll let you keep your eyes on the road.

( always bring a hair tie, just in case. a very important life lesson jason picked up from having not one, not two--but three fucking redheads with shoulder to floor-length hair that got everywhere.

jason waits until caroline has settled in before revving the engine (it's loud. someone's been tinkering) and settling both feet onto pedals. )

Figured we'd check shit out in style. ( it's not that it's her birthday or anything, obviously. it's that he needs to know where she's at, and the safehouse isn't the place for that. but they're off, heading into even shadier areas of town. the ride isn't long, he does take a few different turns than most people would have--but they come to a stop in the parking garage where the newer fight ring has opened, where jason kicks down the stand. ) Where're your usual haunts?

I don't really have any yet.

[ a slight shrug, shoulders lifting up and down in a fluid motion. her usual haunts at home pale in comparison to all of the options she's learning are available here, and that's just based on the electronic yellow pages of options on the up-and-up. the underground will be an entirely new chapter. ]

If you know somewhere a girl can get a bourbon on the rocks without a weird look, though, I'm all ears.

We're at the right place for that.

( making a grand sweeping motion at the ratty old building before he's moving both hands up to pry off the helmet, placing it in one of the side compartments of his bike. runs fingers through the mess of fluff his hair is to shove it back before he's grinning right at her. )

Stay close. All the hooligans hang out 'round these parts.

[ the surroundings don't exactly scream high class bar, but caroline knows all too well that looks can be deceiving. her borrowed helmet joins its brother on the bike, and the hair tie is pulled off and looped around her wrist for safe keeping; a quick toss of her hair back and forth loosens the waves back around her shoulders where they belong. ]

Street rats and scoundrels, huh? [ will someone come running up for a slice of bread too? but she's all too willing to stay close as requested, weaving through bodies as he leads her in. ] What do they call this place?

Doesn't have one. They move buildings every so often, helps keep everyone else off their tail.

( but he leads her inside anyway. takes her over to the bartender who recognizes jason (gives an easy "hey, mal" before sliding a glass his way) and takes a moment to look over caroline herself. jason interrupts by asking for an additional bourbon on the rocks, slides an arm around her upper arm at the same time. no one gives her a second look after. )

There's a room with mats out towards the back. For practicing. Figured if you're up for it, we can practice a bit. No one here'll bother you.

[ if the unexpected touch is a surprise, caroline does her best not to show it. (her best isn't great. but she makes an effort.) instead, she offers a grateful smile to the bartender as the glass comes to her, picking it up with one hand and bringing it to her lips.

it's not — well, nothing is quite like the stash of obscenely high-end liquor from the salvatore house, but it's good. strong. it tempers the hunger that always seem to linger at the edges of her conscious mind. ]

Practicing — [ she'd ask what, but it becomes fairly obvious as she glances around the place. it's not a dance club or an underground bar. the sounds of blows landed against skin clue her in pretty quickly. ] Oh. I've never actually practiced.

[ she can fight a full grown werewolf in the woods and kick him halfway across a forest, but fighting in close quarters has never been her favorite thing. too many opportunities for people to break off the leg of a chair and stick it in her chest.

but he's not going to stake her. he's shown her that much, if nothing else. she can take a few risks tonight. ]

But I don't have anything else to do, and you did drive me all the way out here, so why not?

( jason touches but he's very, very careful not to rest any weight on that arm. it's a practiced move, and it's. obvious. there's nothing holding her back from pulling away. he doesn't grab, doesn't wrap it around shoulders and force her to follow. he moves, but she has all the freedom to not follow if she chooses. the arm would fall away easy--

they haven't known each other long enough for him to gauge where she stands, comfort-wise. and he's careful not to push any boundaries he hasn't discovered yet. )

We'll play a bit, and then I'll take you wherever the hell else you wanna go. ( so he gets what he wants out of it, and caroline can get whatever. sounds fair. ) I've played with gods before, so don't feel like you've gotta hold back.

( though he does. follow that up fast enough, tilts his head in towards her. )

Just don't break anything.

( play sparring is a good way to gauge how strong someone is. how far they can push. what they're willing to do and what they aren't. whether she's more scrappy, or more of a powerhouse. but she's never practiced before which. makes jason think caroline is all instinct. )

[ she follows. it isn't so much a grand declaration as the path of least resistance; she doesn't have any reason thus far not to trust him — rather, she has one very big reason to trust him more so than anyone else here, and so following him past the bar to wherever he has in mind is an easy agreement.

but as far as after? she doesn't have any ideas. she hasn't even wrapped her mind around all the options in the city, let alone made a to do list of places to see. so her shrug is easy-going, relaxed; she takes another sip of her drink and then tips it back altogether, settling the now-empty glass on a table as they pass by. ]

Which is it? [ there's a teasing smile somewhere in the sentence, revealed at the corners of her mouth. ] Do you want me to not hold back, or do you want me to be gentle?

[ if she really goes for it, she suspects she'll do more than break a bone. ]

( his own glass gets tipped back, emptied down his throat before it's left on a nearby table. there's a slow breath out as he tilts his head down to look at her, a playful grin toying at the corners of his lips. )

Don't hold back, but don't break shit that takes time to heal. ( he's trusting her to figure out a good medium. not that he really needs it, because-- ) Learning to aim for nonlethal and hits that don't leave lasting damage is all part of learning. ( an idle gesture with his fingers, before his hand drops back down. jason reaches for a door, slides it open with ease. inside--there are a couple mats laid down on the ground, but not much else.

and he starts slipping off his boots, stepping on one to step out of it before moving to the next. )

[ it's never been part of the vampire training manual to attack without the intent to stop an opponent, if not outright kill them. she's learned how to kick a werewolf halfway across a forest or break a man's neck in one fell swoop, but disabling, temporarily disarming? it's out of her wheelhouse.

but she'll try. she'll try her best, and she'll take his criticism, and she'll probably hold back too much at first to avoid hurting him too badly. she'll try, and trying starts with getting ready. so she leaves her flats in a neat line against the wall, shrugs off her jacket (his jacket, the one he'd given her, the only one she owns and now wears everywhere she goes) and folds it neatly to rest on top; the hair tie around her wrist gets pulled back into her hair, securing it in a quick braid over one shoulder.

when she's ready, she joins him on the mat, hands wringing together against her ribs. ]

Can you — can you come at me, then? Because that might be easier than me going at you. I'll at least know how strong you are.

[ and then she'll know how strong she can allow herself to be in return. ]

I'm gonna hold back. ( just a heads up. but that's not--new for jason, either; he's violate, scrappy, tends to push shit too far when he lets himself drift a bit too far. but not this time. a foot slides back against the mat, sets his balance a little lower as knees bend and both fists raise.

there's a breath--it's a tell he defaults to, uses to pull in attention to that instead of how he's moving but he figures: vampire who won't even fucking come at him until he does first. so he throws in another. twists like he's getting ready to throw a punch with the arm that's settled further away from her, before he's pulling that last moment, swinging his left right for her face.

but there's no intent behind it. if caroline doesn't move out of the way fast enough, it'll stop before it ever reaches skin. it's diagnosing her reaction time, not trying to cause damage but seeing how she responds to fists coming for her. doesn't mean there's not strength behind it; jason's spent fucking years building up muscle, has been using loki's mass to try and strengthen himself enough to pull around someone who weighs a good twice as much as himself around with ease. he may not be kryptonian or an amazon, but he's got plenty of brute force to throw around. )

[ curiosity wins out over fear. she doesn't think he can hurt her, not really, so when jason adjusts his stance and breathes and rocks his arms, caroline just watches, eyes taking in each movement of his body, ears listening for the pace of his heart and the way his breath sounds in his chest, senses on high alert by choice instead of by instinct.

it takes more attention, more intent — and so she doesn't quite move as quickly as she might have otherwise, but as she spots his left fist rocking for her, her own darts upwards, a blur of movement that stills with her hand wrapped around his wrist. it's a grip only for a second, only long enough for him to realize what she's done, and then she drops it. ]

Rude. [ she doesn't sound put out, though. just — amused? surprised, too, a little. she hadn't thought he'd go there. ] Don't hit me in the face, that leaves a mark.

[ and then, a beat later, caroline lunges forward, trading what feels like an unfair burst of speed for a show of strength; her hands aiming not for his neck (the usual) but for his upper arms, an attempt to grapple him down, to toss him to the mat. if she succeeds, he'll feel a portion of her strength in the slam of his back on the ground; if he manages to duck out of the way, she'll have to use a little more pep in her step next time. ]

( movement fast enough to stop his fist and that's--all jason needed to see. the thrust of his fist slows even before her hand collides with it (no damage intended) but he drops it soon after. )

I won't leave a mark on your pretty face, promise. ( a wink, playful, but then she's moving to shove him down. jason lets the momentum hit him if only to feel how strong she is, but he's shifting his own weight before he hits the ground. bends knees to land on his ass before it hits his back, slams his back into the ground shortly after and. lays there for a moment.

raises a brow at her as he stays down. )

You gonna come down here and finish me, or are you done now that I'm down?

( she's fast, but there's no skill behind it that he can see. just movements. faster than an average person, but there are quite a few above average, god-like, atlanteans--whatever. )

[ he's not wrong. there's no special training, no kung fu master class for supernatural kick-ass; it's just good old fashioned hunting instinct and the ability to sense an opponent's motions and react far faster than any mortal human had a right to be.

in the woods, against a werewolf or another vampire, caroline wouldn't have bothered to toss them to the ground. she would have ripped their heart straight out of their chest, broken their neck, severed their limbs in such an irrefutable way that they wouldn't have had opportunity to come back after her. if she couldn't take them down, she would have at least left them hurting.

but jason's on the mat, and he's winking and quipping right back at her, so clearly she didn't hurt him too bad in the process. she managed to hold back okay — which feels like a win, if she's honest. ]

You look pretty finished to me. I mean, if we were really fighting, I wouldn't let you back up again.

[ she'd probably have to step on him, but without the adrenaline of a chase in her veins, it doesn't really feel like a fighting move. ]

( she didn't. he's been thrown around by amazons, by kryptonians, and while he's sure caroline could hurt him, she isn't going for it intentionally. unfortunately, jason doesn't have any of the gear that usually helps even out the odds. always be prepared is a lesson bruce drilled into his skull.

and he is, as much as he can be. jason stays on the ground still, smirks up to her. presses the flats of his feet down against the mat even if he doesn't move to get up from it. )

Yeah? Then stop me from getting up. Hold me down, don't let me move.

( he says while--moving to lift hips up off the mat. she isn't coordinated but fast--whereas jason is slow but has the moves. if he can get a better handle on how fast she is, he can--move on to try and anticipate her own movements. but that takes time, and they've got plenty. )

Don't tell me you're just all party tricks, princess.

I'm not. [ a twist of pride, the urge to prove herself again, to show that she's capable — it swells up in her, straightens her shoulders, tightens the set of her jaw as she lunges forward, knees bracketing around his own as she sinks down onto the mat on top, a blur of motion as hands reach for his wrists, pressing them above his shoulders. she could sit on him, but instead, she hovers above on hands and knees, blonde braid dangling over her shoulder. just enough weight on his wrists to make it a little difficult to use his arms for leverage, but not so much that he couldn't struggle another way. ] I'm not.

[ she huffs out a breath between lips that curve into a self-satisfied smile as she peers down at him, a brow lifting just slightly. ]

Are you going to tap out?

( smart. he can't knock her off balance if she's still balanced, not using him for support. jason still gives her a cheeky grin as she settles over him, moves legs to press the flats of his feet against the ground. )

Nah. I'm not the tap out kinda guy. ( but he does shift under her, leaves one foot pressed against the ground and wraps the other leg around one of caroline's own, before he's thrusting hips up in the direction of the leg he has wrapped--tries to throw her off and flip them around. he does it fast--specifically because he knows how fast her reaction time is.

given her strength, speed, and ability to adapt--whether or not he's fast enough to throw her is still up for debate. )

[ the hook of his leg around hers distracts her — just for a moment, just half a second, just long enough for her smile to soften. but it's enough of a distraction for her to not realize what he's trying to do until he's in the process of it, hips bucking up as if to throw her. ]

Hey! [ it comes out a little affronted, but it's more at herself for letting her mind drift than anything else. self-critical more than complaining, she throws herself back into the task with renewed vigor, using a little more of her own strength to press him a little firmer into the mat. ]

What was that, huh?

( her grip only tightens, it doesn't throw off her balance at all and--she's strong, steady, fast. without hands or use of his legs, there's really not much he can do against her. and unfortunately, he's not nearly as flexible as he used to be. muscle mass gain was great for some things, not so good for this. but she is still up on her knees.

so jason grins. )

I thought we were playing. Am I not allowed? ( the grin turns a little more sultry, eyes focusing up on her own as he goes slack beneath her.

just long enough to hopefully throw her off before he's bending a knee and shoving it up between her own, digging his calf into the soft inside of her thigh and putting pressure to the side--still trying to throw her off. )

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