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Broken Nose[]
Ruffling a piece of paper from his pocket, Amon looked at it, reading and going over it again, sitting at a table under an umbrella stand next to it, outside a small cafe "Where did you send me, Lamia...?" He said to himself, tapping on his head. Gram and Lucadra were silent, most likely somewhere deep in his subconscious trying to find an embarrassing memory to tease him with later. He grabbed his black jacket from his table as he got up, wearing it over his long-sleeved white shirt, leaving his payment on the table before walking off with his drink, honey tea, getting a good grip on it despite the bandages covering his arms up to his elbows.
He kept walking through the streets, eventually finishing his drink and tossing it in a nearby bin "Ah gee, Lamia, you wanted me to get you some rare ingredient for what I'm assuming is something perverse, and I'm somewhere in Fiore because I slept on the train..." Amon said to himself, gripping the piece of paper in despair, probably coming to the conclusion this was a clever scheme from Lamia to make him go outside, considering he's been holed up in his home going over things to prepare for his students, despite it being the holidays. He sighed, trying to see if there's anything interesting around, at the very least to enjoy the sights, since he's at uncharted territory right now.
And then, he saw it, a gym. Amon has never been to a proper gym before. Even when he did, it was just abandoned, and taken over by hitmen and assassins as a temporary base of operations in Bosco, but a proper, functioning and populated gym? He walked up to it, knocking on the door, only to have it open with some members leaving, ignoring Amon completely as they chatted on their way out "..." Amon didn't pay much attention to them, catching the door before it closed, entering the gym, and for the first time in his life, seeing what a proper, clean gym looks like.
The interior was clean, smelling faintly of sweat and chemicals. There was a small receptionist's desked, left unmanned with a check-in sheet on it. Beyond that, it spread into a larger space, navy padded mats covering the floor with an area composed of exercise machinery, punching bags, and weights, a small sitting area. Taking center stage in the large space was a regulation-sized boxing ring, with two women inside. They were quite obviously sparring, the older one occasionally giving tips to what was presumably her student. The younger girl was working hard, throwing a flurry of combos at her instructor. Each one was blocked, though praise was still given for her efforts.
Anna could feel her anger rising, bubbling into her skin as she made no progress against Jazz's rigid defense. Nonetheless, her coach still praised her on her form, ferocity, and speed. It was then when she smelt burning rubber, looking down at her padded gloves before mumbling a curse. Jazz paused, looking at them before letting out an exasperated laugh.
"Looks like you're getting fired up Anna, why don't we take a break? You can go cool off, hit the showers or something. Good work today!" Jazz suggested.
Anna nodded, removing her gloves and throwing them into a trash bin, wiping the sweat from her forehead with a towel before disappearing around a corner. Jazz made a note to invest in some heat-retardant gloves for her. She stepped out of the ring, grabbing a bottle of water before a quick whistle from Kevin and a point at to the door caught her attention. The man was relatively thin and small in stature, with scruffy white hair and bandages on his arms.
She greeted the newcomer merrily, making her way to the entrance to shake his hand. "Hey, welcome to Jazz's Gym! I'm Jazz, anything I can do for you?"
"Oh, uh..." Amon stammered, being caught off-guard by Jazz's greetings. He observed Jazz for a quick moment, her muscular stature, as well as her attire. He wasn't familiar with what people usually wear at a gym, but he didn't expect it to expose your midriff. Amon reluctantly extended his hand, glancing at it to make sure it was covered well, as he shook Jazz's hand "Hi, uh, I'm..." Amon halted for a moment, but calmed down, realizing his name isn't that well known in this part of Fiore "I'm Amon Euryale." Amon said, letting go of her hand "I just decided to t-...take a peek 'round here, since I-...I'm rather new here..." He stuttered speaking to her. Amon was never good at holding normal conversations with people, especially ones who seems so genuinely welcoming and pleasant.
Jazz smiled, "It's nice to meet you, Amon, welcome to Crocus." He was shy, that much she could tell. though at this point she wasn't sure if it was her presence or people in general. "If you like it here, feel free to sign up for a membership. This is one of the cheapest places this side of Crocus and I'm happy to offer private lessons for combat as well as general gym access.".
"P-...Private lessons and membership huh..." Amon looked around, seeing the people practicing around. There didn't seem to be many free spots left, except the ring "Uhm..." Amon rubbed his chin, before speaking "If it's not...not too much to ask..." He stopped, shaking his head "Nevermind...Are there any uh...trials? First time testing to see if...if I fancy this?" Amon asked Jazz "I-...If possible..." He look at her knuckles, noticing they didn't look all that damaged, but was sweating, most likely a result of training for however long it was before he came here "Ah, I'm probably coming off as really rude and entitled right now, I'm sorry..." He apologized suddenly, clapping his hands together "I'm not used to gyms, y'see..." He couldn't help but feel like he was just making things worse for himself, his face turning red from either embarrassment or other reasons.
"Trials?" Jazz giggled, "This isn't some elite operation. You can just sign up and if you don't like it you can quit. But if you really want to give it a whirl, you could step into the ring. I'm sure I could get someone to spar with you, or I'm free too." She said politely. She didn't expect much of him. He was thin, shy and scrawny. Probably coming to the gym to get stronger. "Listen, if you're being bullied or something, I can teach you how to fight." She added, the pieces of the puzzle coming together in her mind. He was a university student being bulled by his stronger peers. It would explain his school-boyish attitude as well as the bandages he wore.
"Teach me huh..." Amon thought to himself, rubbing the back of his head, staring directly at Jazz, face to face, before quickly averting his gaze in embarrassment "W-...Well...Hm..." Amon put up a smile, trying to calm himself. There was no need to get so worked up. Jazz was just kind, welcoming, well-built and almost motherly. It wasn't like he was desperately in need of having contact with people who are that way so he doesn't end up some depressed loner who only knows his wife and kids, after undergoing mental and physical trauma in a vicious row because he was literally born to suffer misfortune for having a certain colored hair or eyes.
"Well...you're the only one I know so far, so...how about you teach me around the ropes or somethin'?" He asked Jazz, pointing at the ring "If you don't mind that is, since you just finished a match, I think?" Amon said, referring to her spar against Anna "You look strong so, I wouldn't mind having a short spar at least?" Despite what he said, in his mind, he had the dreaded feeling that this was a mistake. Considering how naturally strong Amon is based on his demon biology, he could easily break a normal human without meaning to, as he often is trying very hard not to do at home. Amon couldn't help but feel like he shouldn't bother integrating into this gym, he'd stand out too much, he'd have too hold back immensely in order to not break something... or someone.
Maybe he should just leave.
"Yeah, you sure? I don't mind." She walked over to the ring, climbing easily over the ropes, waiting for him to catch up. Jazz was concerned. She didn't want to add to the injuries it already seemed he had, but she also didn't want to seem disrespectful. Once Amon joined her she smiled again, "Challenger starts, kay?" Her stance shifted lower, legs spread apart and her fist raised, prepared to counterattack.
Amon took off his jacket, placing it on the corner of the ring, stretching his arms, his long sleeves still hiding any skin, even though he already had the bandages to do so. He rolled up his sleeves a bit, stopping just near his elbows, revealing how far his bandages went, and the hidden muscle under his clothes. "I need to...hold back a lot. I don't want to hurt her, but I don't wanna make it obvious or mock her accidentally..." He thought to himself, holding up his arms in a boxing stance. Amon looked at Jazz, seeing her stance, deducing it may be safe to take his time in attacking. The two walked around the ring, keeping their sights locked at each other without hitting. "Alright, let's see how this goes..." Amon bent his knee, quickly rushed towards Jazz with a fierce right hook, but he quickly, yet subtlely didn't put much momentum or force behind it, using as little of his natural as possible in order to not do something he'll come to regret.
It was a strange thing to notice, but she couldn't help but find her eyes drawn to his lithe build, perfectly disguised under his coat. This kid wasn't just any university student. She kept her eyes trained on him as they circled, noticing his attack as soon as his muscles twitched. She grabbed his right wrist, twisting it to the side as adrenaline pumped through her veins. Reflexively, her own right fist launched itself into Amon's face, making contact with his nose. She caught her breath as she realized that she had broken his nose.
"Oh my gods, I am so sorry." She gasped, oblivious to the stinging pain and scarlet drops forming on her knuckles.
"Ugh...!" Covering his nose with his hand, Amon gestured with his other one to Jazz, holding up his open palm for a "wait" gesture. He tried composing himself, stomping the floor once or twice, before straightening himself and looking at Jazz "It's fine, it's f-...Oh god, I can taste my blood..." Amon said, as the blood made its way from his nostrils to his mouth, and down his chin, dripping, causing him to cover it with both hands "Good thing my arms are bandages..." He snarked at his own injury, seemingly over it now, yet he fixated himself on Jazz's knuckles, the right ones bloodied from hitting him. She wasn't no ordinary anyone if she broke his nose like that.
"Oh my gods." Jazz's eyes were wide and she grabbed his shoulder, "I've got a medical kit in my apartment, let's go get you cleaned up." She began to lead him up a thin staircase near the back of the gym and up to her apartment, calling back down the stairs to her co-worker, "Kevin! You're closing in an hour!" Once they were inside Jazz raced over to the freezer, opening it up before she realized the state of her own hand. "Oh my gods, my hand is bleeding." She ignored it and filled a dish rag with ice, folding it over until it formed a pouch before handing it to Amon, "Here put that on your nose, gently, don't worry about the blood and don't tip your head back, I don't want it to run down your throat."
"Th-...Thanks" Amon said, taking the ice pouch, gently placing it on his bleeding nose after wiping the blood off "I-...It doesn't...hurt th-...that much anymore..." He said, stuttering. Amon glanced over at his free hand, beginning to feel the blood seep through his bandages, feeling it on his skin now. He grunted, shaking his hands a bit and trying to ignore the blood, getting unfavorable flashbacks. Continuing to press the ice on his nose, he soon calmed down, the bleeding seemingly stopping as he relaxed on the sofa "Thank you..." He said to Jazz.
Jazz took a seat, balanced on the arm of the living room chair, holding paper towels to her hand. "Are you okay? I'm really sorry, I have no excuse for what happened, you were just a lot faster than I thought and your technique was practiced and I am so so sorry." Jazz babbled, her eyebrows creased in concern as she was still trying to process in her own mind what had happened. He was a fighter. He was trained. And punching him felt as if she had tried to punch a titanium wall. No human could've hurt her hand like that without using magic, at least no one she had met.
"I-...It's fine, I'm used to getting punishment." Amon said, trying to cull Jazz's worries "I'm...I'm more impressed your fist managed to...to hurt that much..." Amon noted, referring to Jazz's strength behind her fist. While it was often for him to get into fights and get hurt, it wasn't often that someone who, for all intents and purposes, looked normal to be able to hurt him this easy. "You uh, you're really strong, y'know."
Jazz was puzzled at his words. What sort of person was used to being punished? And why would he refer to being beaten up as punishment? At his compliment she let a smile slide back onto her face, "Thanks! I guess it's in the genes y'know?" She wanted to ask him what he meant but was not about to push someone as jumpy as he was into a corner. "Do you wany anything to drink? I've got juice, tea, water, some bourbon on the top shelf, but that's usually just for Kevin, however, I doubt he'll be coming by tonight so I can pick up more before I have him over..."
"Bourbon, huh..." Amon pondered his options, eventually settling on the alcoholic drinks "Anything strong, alcohol. Might uh, might dull the pain?" Amon replied, accepting Jazz's offer "I don't...I don't usually drink alcohol, but it wouldn't hurt every once in a while, ya know."
Jazz nodded, walking over to the kitchen, back to Amon. She discarded the bloodied paper towels, then grabbed herself a glass of water, before reaching up to the top shelf and pulling the bottle of liquor down, bringing it and an empty glass back over to the table with her. "Here's the bottle, here's a glass. Feel free to have as much as you want." She said, glancing quickly at the clock before turning back to him. 5:03. Kevin should have just finished closing. "So, where are you from Amon?"
Amon's eyes were fixated on Jazz as she walked over to bring the drinks, trying to not stare too much, giving only an aside glance as he looked around her apartment. Once she place the drinks down and called to him did his attention return to her, the ice patch luckily being a good cover-up for his blushing once he got startled, "Uh, I'm from Hargeon. The…the port city, yeah." He replied, filling up his glass and drinking it down in one go. He grunted as the beverage's flavor, but otherwise didn't mind it. "This is good…you're honestly being too nice to me." Amon said, filling himself another glass "Would feel sorta bad being the only one having a drink. U-…Unless you don't want I'm not…not forcing…Yeah." He awkwardly stumbled.
Jazz nodded, taking a sip of her water. "I'm sorry if it's impolite, but I actually don't drink alcohol for personal reasons." She felt a bitter note hit her. He didn't seem like he was used to people being nice to him. "Amon, I don't mean to pry, but you seem a little bit nervous. Am I scaring you?"
"Ah, n-...no, it's just..." Amon stuttered further, drinking down his glass whole, and filling up another shot "Usually, you don't...you don't get taken right to...No, that's not right..." Amon backtracked, trying to better phrase himself "I guess I didn't expect much from a stranger? I don't know, usually when it comes to meeting new people, it's either I have to be careful they don't...stab or I get too attached..." He replied, chugging down his glass "God...damn, this stuff is good.".
She raised a brow, her concern and curiosity becoming more apparent. "Did you just say that you have to be careful because they usually stab you? Just... what sort of people do you meet?".
"Ah. Did I say that out loud?" Amon asked, continuing to drink his alcoholic beverage "It uh..." He coughed, trying to backtrack "Uhhh..." He quickly kept drinking, trying to avoid eyesight, progressively getting more woozy from the alcohol getting to his system "Just...unsavory people, is all." He finally answered, clearing his throat and pouring himself another drink "I'm sure am getting hammered today, woo boy."
Watching him made part of her feel ill. Not just his words but the state he was falling into. Without a word, she removed the alcohol from Amon's reach, capping the bottle and putting it on the floor next to her chair. The more he spoke the more his mystery grew. Jazz wanted to know more, though she didn't want to push his boundaries, especially while he was intoxicated. So, she started with a light remark, "Where did you learn how to fight?" She asked carefully, making sure the tone was neutral, if not a bit bemused.
"Oh, I uh..." Amon eyed the bottle a bit. It's been ages since he saw a bottle of alcohol, or drank any. It was a matter of not having much of a taste for these beverages, rather than outright dislike. "I hadn't really...been taught, so much as I had to adapt in order to survive, in uh...the uh..." Amon performed had gestures while explaining himself, awkwardly trying to make up his answer "Okay, let's settle that I was at the bad streets and I needed to punch my way out of most situations, a'right?" Amon said, trying not to give the impression he's angry or anything.
Jazz knew she had crossed a line, and immediately felt her stomach grow heavy in remorse, considering his reaction. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry." She was unsure of what to say, feeling unease settle before her. "Well," She said quickly, "You're welcome to stay the night, seeing as you're a little bit drunk and I don't want to send you out onto the streets, but I'm going to go take a shower now, just, stay put?" At his nod she rose and slipped away, disappearing into the hallway that lead to her bed and bathroom.
"..." Amon looked around, sitting quietly at the coach. He rubbed his shoulder, moving it around to ease up, rubbing his eyes, and his chin, seeing the blood that had dried on it "Ugh...I don't...wanna make a mess." He said, tugging on his shirt to see he bled on it. Amon unwrapped the bandages on his left arm, exposing the various scars on his flesh, going from the tips of his fingers, all the way to his shoulder, the scars extending to almost every bit of his upper body. The bandages themselves got bloody from when he covered his nose, but used these bandages to rub the blood off his face, dirtying the bandages further but cleaning himself up. He looked around, finding a bin at the corner of the room, tossing the dirty bandages into it, rubbing his nose in slight irritation "Hm...".
Amon looked at a nearby mirror, walking closer, seeing the blood on his shirt "Oh god, did I look like this all the time?" He said, suddenly blushing and getting embarrassed at his presentation, covering his face with his hand, before turning on the waters at the sink, and washing his face "Alright, Amon, just clean yourself up." He said, taking off his shirt, beginning to wash the blood that got on his body with the sink water.
Jazz showered quickly, washing off the sweat and grime of her job before drying off and getting changed into a pair of cloud gray sweatpants and a mossy tank top before going back into the main space of her home. She found Amon in her kitchen, washing the blood off his skin. Her attention was immediately caught by the massacre of scars, cuts, and wounds on his skin and she couldn't help but inhale sharply. He was lying to her. There was no way he was just some student running into trouble.
"Amon, just who are you really?" She asked cautiously, she couldn't help but feel on edge. In was her own fault. Kevin always berated her for how trusting she could be.
Amon turned around, seeing Jazz. He froze in place, his expression being that of surprise with widened eyes. Remembering his scars were exposed now, he quickly put his shirt back on "I uh..." Amon cleared his throat, but realized his hands were exposed still, which on their own had scars "I guess I'm pretty bad at being consistent..." He said, sighing, giving off a somber tone, covering his mouth in percieved shame. His hands were shaking, and he struggled to say a word "It uh...uhm...How do I...I say this...?" He leaned against the kitchen stand, his hands going over to his forehead, subtly covering his eyes and preventing eye contact.
"Say what?" Jazz asked. She was trying her best to keep her voice even. She wasn't angry, no. She was disappointed in herself for trusting him. The evidence was stacking up against him, he seemed more and more suspicious by the second, however, she could also tell that his emotions and stutter were true. He would have dropped the act earlier if he wasn't faking.
Amon tried to think of some kind of excuse, any excuse, to fix this, but everytime he tried to think of anything, he would go back to where he got these scars, turning off from those memories and his mind going blank briefly. He gazed right at Jazz, sighing, and standing upright "I...My name is Amon, and I am...was an...individual working in Bosco and these...scars are just a uh..." Amon muttered, struggling to find the words. He looked away, purposefully avoiding meeting eye to eye with Jazz, as if ashamed "I was held...captive and tortured, pretty much.".
"Why am I telling her that?" Amon thought to himself, effectively spilling the beans to her.
"I came to Crocus because I was tricked to. Said I needed to get out more and all..." Amon tugged on his shirt's collar as he continued speaking "I stumbled into your gym out of curiousity and I...Well, I thought I'd...I'd hang about, see what's happening?".
"I don't have a reason to trust her, but I guess if she wants to fight I'll run. I don't want to fight...".
"So I'm not...really whatever you thought I was." Amon said to Jazz "I am a...reformed fugitive who is...or...wants to try and live on a normal life, I guess?" Amon coughed, clearing his throat, readying himself to teleport away if Jazz doesn't take this well.
Jazz listened to him speak, standing with her arms crossed. As he continued to speak her expression softened and changed. Before she said anything she crossed the kitchen, walking by him and pulling down the bottle of bourbon and grabbing a small glass. She sat down at the table, poured herself a cup and drank before she looked at him again.
"Sit down Amon, I'm not going to call the cops or anything. It's just a lot to hear." She was going to regret drinking in the morning, but at the moment, the bitter taste and the effect it carried would sooth her. "Actually, a lot of my patrons aren't the best people. They're a lot like you, trying to become better. Who tricked you into coming here?"
"Ah..." Amon walked over and sat down as well "I-...It was Lamia, she's uh...my best friend, my..."wife", I guess." Amon couldn't really use the term "wife" seriously after discovering marriage apparently requires an actual process for it to be official "Sh-...She wanted me t-...to..." He kept stuttering, his heart still beating, and his stomach feeling heavy with dread "...to get...out more and...Yeah...".
Jazz nearly choked, "Your wife?" She asked, astonished, "Aren't you... ya'know, a little young? Married in College? Jeez." She said shaking her head lightly.
"..." Amon's eyes narrowed in confusion "I'm 30." He replied.
Her eyes widened, jaw dropping open before she asked softly, "Yo-you're... older than me?"
"I-...Yeah...?" Amon replied, feeling rather awkward "H-...How old...? A-...Actually, nevermind, that's rude to ask..." He said "A-...Anyway...J-...Jazz, you're being awfully...nice...despite just...hearing...that." Amon awkwardly asked and stuttered to Jazz.
She felt stupid for underestimating him, trying to resist the flush of embarrassment that burned her cheeks. "I'm 26." Jazz said offhandedly, before continuing with resolve. "I don't have the most trustworthy background either Amon. So I try to put faith in everyone, no matter where they're from. Everyone deserves a second chance."
Amon shook his drink a bit, sipping the bourbon, taking in Jazz's words. He didn't quite know what to say, although he did feel nice, being trusted and given this "second chance" by Jazz, though his expression gave off a feeling of indifference. Amon smiled, before speaking "Thank you."
"No problem," Jazz smiled back. She hadn't had alcohol in years and the effect was taking hold. Parts of her apartment felt fuzzy. She felt lighter.
"You uh, you okay there with this alcohol?" Amon asked, noticing Jazz was drinking quite a bit and it seemingly started taking effect "You don't have to get drunk just because I am. Then again, I'm still not quite there.".
"I'm fine," Jazz slurred lightly, playing off her condition, "I just haven't drunk since I was 19."
"Seven years huh?" Amon said, putting down his glass cup "Well, you should probably be uh, a bit conservative about it then." Amon suggested to Jazz, concerned with her well being "I heard starting to drink after a prolonged break can uh, can be bad for your health. Or just hit harder.".
"Yeah... I'm going to stop now." She said, sending the bottle cap spinning across the table in circles, over and over again. "It's getting late... Do you have somewhere to go home to?"
"Oh." Amon peeked up from Jazz's question, realizing he didn't think things through "...Oh, I did...I do not, no." Amon awkwardly coughed to clear his breath "I guess I'll find a hotel or...Wait, do I have enough money on me for a hotel...?".
"You can stay here," Jazz offered. Once it wasn't out of her mouth she was stunned by her own words. Stammering, she continued, "I have a guest room. It still smells like sweat and teenage boy because Aaron was staying over last weekend. But it's a free bed."