fandomtownies | Fight Club, Atlas Gym, Sunday Evening

"Well, most of you are looking refreshingly back to your original shapes," Ghanima said crisply. "I hope many of you enjoyed your second or third childhoods, and many congratulations on not managing to kill each other with the nerf toys last week."

"Being back to normal means no ball pit this week," Tyler added. "I know. I'm crushed, too. Welcome to Fight Club. Rules are posted over there, and if this is your first week sign in and let us know what your level is."

"Like last time, we'll both be around keeping an eye on things, and I'll be over by the beginner mats for the first bit," Ghanima stated. "Now, you and you. You two. And you two too." She turned to Tyler, smiling brightly. "Care to pick the last victims?"

"You know the way to my heart, Ghanima," Tyler joshed, and looked over the group for a long moment. "You, hiding in the back, and you by the padding. And both of you. And that makes five sets. Go forth and punch."

[Preplayed with

atreideslioness. Up early for SP~~, wait a sec for OCD~~.]

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Of course he did.

Le sigh.

Wade was bent over that fist for a moment before coming back to his senses and twisting around Nate's arm to elbow him in the head. "You know, you didn't actually banter there."

"You did imply you didn't want to hear it," Nate pointed out. Through some blood. It was charming in their world.

He slammed his knee up.

"Only if it was expos--ITION." Oh, his ribs! Going down and rolling away, Wade pouted up at him. "You just need to learn to socialize like us normal people."

A beat. "Wow, I managed that with a straight face. Go me!"

"You're learning?" Nate offered, with a slight smirk marring his features. He tilted his head at Wade. "Done, or...?"

"Unless we wanna draw blood," Wade replied, holding up a hand for help on up.

"Good point."

Nate contemplated the idea of leaving him to it. In the end, he snagged Wade's hand anyway, and gave a good yank.

"Was that so difficult?" Wade asked, brushing his imaginary lint off his pants.

"I don't know," Nate said, eying the brushing with that selfsame smirk, "It might've been."

"Don't make me stab you in your sleep."

"I think it'd probably be better to avoid that," Nate agreed.

Fight Club, Atlas Gym, Sunday Evening

Re: Open Sparring.

Re: Open Sparring.

Re: Open Sparring.

Re: Open Sparring.

Re: Open Sparring.

Re: Open Sparring.

Re: Open Sparring.

Re: Open Sparring.

Re: Open Sparring.

Re: Open Sparring.