Sparring

[Thomas Taylor] So Tom called her again. A more serious call, fighting was she serious. After the other night and all her would be fuck buddies and her insistence that she can handle herself because she has mace he put more thought into training her. He was not Li, he was not then again he was not kung fu, he was a brawler, style and grace go out the window his style is about fighting to win quickly, by whatever means.

So he asked her to drive out into Bronzeville. The street she was told to go too looks dark and uninviting. Some homeless men shout at each other then proceed to fight over who can finish off the last of the cheap vodka. Even at this time the women of the night start there walk to attract custom, sleazy business types with cars to expensive to be in this neighbourhood start prowling the selection available. No one likes sloppy seconds.

She comes up to the building Thomas told her to meet him, at one point perhaps in the 50’s it was a theatre, something had happened since then, most of the windows boarded up, the paint decades old looks foul and old. There is a sign outside saying ‘Gym’ but it left one wondering.

There is a car park (Thank god) and as she pulls up large black man looms into view, his voice like metal on a chalkboard, she can see scars over his throat “Who are you?” His stance menacing, he could crush her like a flea.

[Morgan Lake] She had mace, and she knows some basics - stomp on the instep, elbow to the solar plexus, fist to the nose, knee to the groin - and a bit of kung fu mixed with judo and tai chi, very, very basic stuff that has more to do with breaking holds than anything else, at least so far. (And the former being something she learned from a cheese rom-com, and googled to make sure it was true.) So when Thomas called, she'd said of course she was serious and her times and Li's haven't matched up yet.

So she finds herself in a questionable (at best) section of Bronzeville, locking her doors as she drives, and eventually finding the address and parking her car. When she gets out, the doors are locked again and she thanks whoever (or whatever) is listening that she has a hunk of junk that no one's going to want to steal, and nothing of value in it. She wears workout clothes and wishes that it'd been cool enough to throw a sweatshirt on over the top now that she's actually here. The bouncer asks her who she is and she stands tall (well, at her full height which is above average, but not exactly giant) and proud [arrogant], shoulders back and head high.

"Morgan Lake. I'm meeting Thomas Taylor."

Yeah, not the kind of girl one usually finds in a place like this.

[Thomas Taylor] His disposition changes dramatically, he smiles more gold teeth than holes is obviously the way to go in his book and he taps the roof. “Ah, yes Tommy’s guest.” Moves aside. She might be more at ease knowing this massive man was also protecting the car park, or maybe he was the one that arranged the steals.

When she walks in the place could be described best as ‘Characterful’ and at worst a ‘dump’. It had gym equipment, that much was true, most of it a couple of decades old. More than one piece has a cardboard box laid flat with the words “Do not use” some even go so far to say “Use at own peril”

As she walks around, she gets some attention from the men in there, nothing too sinister she might be glad to notice. There also some women in here working out, some even ok looking but she cannot help get the feeling these are prostitutes either just finishing or just getting ready to start work and god only knows how they pay.

The bouncer walks just inside the main door and gestures down the right-hand side “Tom’s there.” He seems quite jovial when not intimidating even with that harsh voice.

As she walks she can see him, or more his back. By a punching bag, beads of sweat dripping down running into his spine Thomas trains. Of course she had seen/felt him naked but he certainly cut an intimating visage, he had muscles in all the right place. Something else she may (or may not have seen/felt) where the scars on his back, they were small (Most of them) but with the sweat running over his skin in the light over head they looked more prominent. He stops, deep breaths, his hands bandaged up as he tilts his head towards her. He has some scars everywhere, from fights, from mages, from parents. He smiles to her, a tired smile but a smile, the old cd player by him helping his motivation.

“Le..Fay.” The back of his right hand comes up and rubs his forehead as he turns muscles lean from the sweat “Found the... gaff alright then?”

[Morgan Lake] "Tom," she says, and even in workout wear looks out of place here - it's too designer, too new, too something. It fits her perfectly, though, showing the lithe, sinewy muscles he's seen under similar clothes before, and felt against him; that she's a runner, not a fighter, is abundantly clear, though her movement says she also has some bit of martial training . . . of the pretty, graceful sort. "Yeah, I found it. This is where you hang out?"

She looks vaguely disgusted, and as if she thinks she might contract hepatitis if she touches much of anything; the bag with her change of clothes, cell phone and wallet remains slung over her shoulder for now. She is a posh totty, after all; one of these things is not like the others. One of these things does not belong. (But she called him Tom instead of Thomas. Maybe it's a good sign, or maybe she's a social chameleon. Either one could be true.)

"It's . . . interesting."

[Thomas Taylor] He has cargo pants on, the top half to his groin wet from sweat. He rolls his neck from left to right and some audible cracks are heard as he moves over to the Cd player and moves his hands out it is hard to see whether he is going for his smokes or the Cd player as he rewinds the track playing it again.

He looks to her “’ang out a strong word pet, but it wat I can afford, plus never a dull moment.” He smirks pointing towards some of those working out “Everyone’s a character don’t get me pete I’d like to go to a fancy gym but you know...” He shrugs; he was here to make money just it takes time.

He tilts his head at her face, that one that looks disgusted “Not everythin’ is roses an petals pet, like I said, I ain’t made of dosh so I gotta make do, call it slummin’ Le Fay slumming.” He picks up his bottle of water and twisting off the top takes a very large gulp then pours some over his head shaking it some of it splashing on her.

“Salt of the earth pet this is, humanity at it lowest an best.” Can go to y7er gym if tats better?” He offers it to her

[Morgan Lake] "Hey!" That's with a bit of laughter - perhaps unexpected, given the look on her face - when she gets splashed, and she tries to loosen up just a bit. "I don't have a gym membership anymore. Used to work out at UC, but can't anymore." She doesn't say why, just shrugs, and adds, "I can get a membership at Northwestern now, though. Student discount and all. But I'm alright with here."

There's a stubborn set to her shoulders despite that look; it says that she looks at this as a challenge, and one at which she intends to exceed expectations (as she intends to do with all challenges that come her way). She looks him over, eyes his scars, and sets her bag down on a less dirty bench nearby, where she can see it.

"We can alternate. You come to Northwestern once a week, when I've got that settled, and I'll come here. Though I think they'd probably be less cool with dirty fighting there, they have punching bags and stuff."

[Thomas Taylor] He smirks “Pet, that suggests this will be a weekly affair, you thinkin’ yer gonna be that lucky?” He winks moving over to an old duffle bag and pulling out some pads, shin and fist pads as he comes back over to her. “So let’s get started pet shall we.” He holds out his hand for her, he obviously intends to help her suit up but does not touch her unless she lets him. (He has respect/can be a gentleman as she saw the happy night....oh the shame)

The music plays in the background “Wat fightin’ experience do you ‘ave pet, an be ‘onest with me it all trainin’ or ‘ave you actually been up close and taken a few blows?”

[Morgan Lake] He reaches for her hand and she gives it after studying him for a moment; they've slept together, and she can hardly say she doesn't trust him on a physical level now, though anything else is up for grabs, yet. The question gets a raised eyebrow, and the sort of laughter that probably doesn't get heard in here, often - that of a privileged coed, a pretty thing from uptown.

"I got in one fight in high school, ever, and one as an adult. Mostly, it's training; I took some tai chi classes in the park, and I had a boyfriend who . . . worked at a dojo." She'd been about to say he was Akashic, but doesn't. "He worked out a combination of tai chi, judo and kung fu for me - mostly evasive and breaking holds. So yeah, the vast majority of it's been training. Or . . . you know, girl fights."

[Thomas Taylor] He looks down at her hand as he help her get padded up, he chuckles at the laugh as he easily does her hands then bends down and starts on her legs “Okay, so cat fights, but you got sum serious theory behind it, fuck me girl that sounds impressive....” He spends a minute in silence putting his pads on her as he moves back and gets some more. She might be glad to see thought the pads were old they were clean at least. He does not ask about the old boyfriend, no right man gets a woman talking about the ex.

He starts putting his own “I cannot tell you anything about that Le Fay, never been to any martial arts trainin’ mine ‘as been all street, all in practise.” He pads up rather quickly as he looks to her “I wud ask wat you want to learn but me style ain’t about theory, it’s ‘bout puttin’ sumfucker down an fast, incap ‘im, knock ‘im out...”

“Though iId like to learn real fightin’, perhaps you can show me a few moves later?” He flirts with her of course, she is fairly sure what moves he wants to see.

[Morgan Lake] "It sounds more impressive than it is. I only really worked on it for a couple months, then he moved and I haven't found another dojo since. I'll talk to Li, but our schedules haven't meshed yet." She wants to learn - make sure no one can push her in a cage against her will again - but there are so very many other things she's working on that the relatively unimportant fall through the cracks, but for when they make themselves convenient to her.

The bit about his own training - or lack thereof - gets a nod, and a shrug. "That's what's important to know, really. Knowing more than one way to do it is gravy."

Then there's the last, and she blushes crimson - a color not many people turn around here, likely, at least not under that sort of stimulus. "I, um." She clears her throat as the color fades back to normal. "Maybe I can."

[Thomas Taylor] “Right then, lets rock, am not gonna parry an I want you to hit me, where ever you think is best, just hit me.” He does tense, respect for her strength perhaps.

“Hit me a couple of times, I start parry, lets me get a look at yer form.” There another tease/flirt as she can see him watching her, different from every other time he has, he is gauging, responsive that wandering nature takes hold and oozes out of him, he starts moving on the balls of his feet only slightly and still on the spot

“Come on Le Fay, lets dance...” He grins

[Morgan Lake] "You're not going to parry?" That seems odd to her, but she shrugs - bounces a bit, judging, and throws a punch (telegraphed - she's clearly inexperienced) in the general direction of his kidney, a stomp at his instep, another fist at his nose . . . though she's had some training, and clearly learned from it, she has a long way to go. On the up side? While her strength and ease of movement are average, she seems to have the ability to hold out longer than many.

But then, he's probably already guessed that.

Like in everything else she does that she wants to do well, Morgan is very focused - as disgusting as she finds the gym, as initially distracting, it fades away around her as the world narrows to breathing, to throwing a punch or a kick.

[Dex + Brawl roll 1, +1 for unskilled]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 3, 8 (Success x 2 at target 7) [WP]

[Morgan Lake] [Roll 2]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 7)

[Morgan Lake] [roll 3]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 2, 6 (Failure at target 7)

[Morgan Lake] [Roll 4]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 3, 7 (Success x 1 at target 7)

[Thomas Taylor] ((Parry 3))
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 4, 8, 9 (Failure at target 6)

[Thomas Taylor] ((Parry 4))
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 4, 7, 7, 7, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Thomas Taylor] She hits his kidney and she might be prideful to feel his tense muscles give as he stumbles to the side, but her follow up move misses it mark and makes her punch for his nose all the more harder, he comes up to try and block her but misses her fist her first blow still rocking him but she does not get the finish and misses his nose grazing her cheek. He last punch he catches in the palm of his hand quickly and easily as he grips it hard.

Eyes meet hers and he looks almost wild, dangerous and deadly, a thrill and excitement washes over her from him... as she feels that strength in his hand as he lets go of her fist.

“Not bad Le Fay... passion, drive, natural ability really... wanna see wat I’d do?” He offers her a chance to say no, he will pull his paunches but go easy on her; he rose to her challenge, her confidence.

[Morgan Lake] "Of course," she says easily. "I'm not as fragile as I look, you know." Oh, yes, prideful - like a thoroughbred, she, all long and lean and tossing of her head; his excitement is contagious, and she soaks it up like a sponge. Again (still) she bounces on the balls of her feet, ready to duck and dive out of the way as needs be.

[Dex + Dodge, roll 1!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 4, 5 (Failure at target 6)

[Morgan Lake] [Roll 2!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 5, 6, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Morgan Lake] [roll 3]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 3, 3 (Botch x 1 at target 6)

[Morgan Lake] [roll 4]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 2, 9 (Failure at target 6)

[Thomas Taylor] He pushes her hand up and as her arm partial blocks her view of him he strikes, fist to her chin to knock her head up, then he ducks a jam for her stomach.

[Thomas Taylor] ((Strike 1))
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 4, 7, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Thomas Taylor] ((Strike 2))
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 7 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Thomas Taylor] As she doubles over her foot slips and her ankle twists with more than training pain, but she continues to her credit and so does Tom, when she doubles over he stands bringing his (padded foot)) to her head to knock her up and off balance and then moves to sweep her feet knocking her to the ground and in most cases with out pads that would bring the biggest men to there knees.

((Strike £))
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 3, 6, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Thomas Taylor] ((Strike 4))
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 5, 5, 8 (Failure at target 6)

[Morgan Lake] Her ankle hurts. Badly. But hell if she's going to cop to it - not until she can sit down, ice it and wrap it like she should. She's also not going to push a minor injury into something that could be way worse. The last strike misses, just barely, as she nearly goes down and she holds her hands up. "I think we better start slow. I know I'm not always going to have warm up time," she speaks so very properly, for a place like this, with her -ings and such, "but here, I probably should. At least to start."

She's an athlete - she knows her body, what it can do, and where it should be pushed and when she should back off a little if at all possible, and right now it's possible.

"Think I'll do alright?"

[Thomas Taylor] He stops, a few deep breaths, there’s a wildness in his eyes a passion in his moves...he takes another breath as they fade another until it is gone and he nods “Pet, I reckon you’ll be robin, I’ll get ya able to put fuckers down until Li gets around to makin’ you Neo style an shit.” He picks up the water and has a gulp holding it out to her

“Lets try somethin’ a touch slower eh, punch the bag” He thumbs it over his shoulder “Build coordination, upper body strength, give me a lemon to look at yer ass.” Again that cheeky flirt laugh comes back, he had some of his will back and with it that charming cockiness/arrogance he showed as he takes off the pad of his right hand and holds it out for her, a handshake. “Robin effort babe.” Yes he called her babe, he was curious how she took it...that was the American way right, no one said pet.

He admires her, such stubborn pride, she will go far or burn out, he hopes it is the latter and not the former.

[Morgan Lake] Babe.

An eyebrow raises and there's a spark in her eyes (Danger, Will Robinson!) when she studies him for a long moment, quiet. She'd taken 'pet' poorly enough at first, though she'd eventually gotten used to it. Babe, though, is enough to kill the amused laughter that started to peal out across the gym dead.

"Don't call me that," is all she says, and doesn't even get to the answer about looking at her ass as she punches the bag. And then, as if to soften it a bit, "It doesn't sound right in your accent, anyway."

Then, it's to the bag. She's slow and clumsy with it, but yes, there's that stubborn pride. She's Hermetic, after all - it's pretty much what her Tradition's made of.

[Thomas Taylor] He grins, he tries to hide it but he does grin. “Fair play pet, I meant no offense.” A sly grin, all jesting and humour as he does indeed watch her hit the bag a few times, she can only guess that he would be watching her ass as he says but who knows where his eyes lie. After the third punch he moves to the punching bag and takes a hold of it giving her a more solid object to hit. His hands curl around it and he presses his body close to it, head lent to the side.

“Yer tryin’ to ‘ard pet, your telegraphin’, thinkin too much, think of sum fucker you ‘ate, sumone you really despise, then take that rage and let it loose. Control is one thing but emotions will win you fights, passion, rage and anger...”

He watches the next few punches, if she punches “Can I ask you a question pet, an don’t answer if you don’t wanna...but tell me a touch ‘bout yerself, in all fairness I don’t really know ‘bout yer past, where you cum from, wat you did an since we seem to be ‘angin’ out a lil’ bit (A lot really) just seems Isle that I sud know a bit more about you.”

He does not mention he wants to, it is all small talk with the fighting, a cover if you will