fandomtownies | Fight Club, Atlas Gym, Sunday Evening

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Fight Club, Atlas Gym, Sunday Evening

Tyler paced the gym barefoot as the fighters assembled. "Graduates," he began. "Students. Teachers. People who work in town. Miscellaneous others. Welcome to fight club."

"We're glad to have you here," Ghanima continued smoothly. "But if you're here, you fight. If, for some reason you cannot fight, we ask you stay towards the back. This isn't a place for voyeurism. If you want a show, go find a television."

"Ghanima, you speak my language," Tyler informed her., before turning back to the group. "Two people to a fight, fights end when someone goes limp or says stop. We are not trying to kill each other here; we're trying to train. We're trying to improve. Got questions, ask one of us." He looked at his cohort. "Anything else?"

"Rules are on the door," she said crisply, "but we're happy to answer any inquires you may have."

"Now go hit the mats or go home."

[OOC: Preplayed with

atreideslioness. Up early for SP; guests welcome.]

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It did manage to knock Parker off balance, sending her stumbling a few steps back before disentangled herself as she regained her ground, laughing. "Good! Finally some originality!" She smirked a smirk that Darcy Parker only wished she could pull off, then said, "Now. If you can land a punch I can't deflect, I won't think this is completely boring." And aimed a side-kick at Katina's other hip, eyes on her face, waiting for the next move.

Fine, so feet were going to be involved in this. Katchoo managed to calm down just enough to remember some of the rudimentary training she'd gotten from Tambi -- if you could call it that -- and pushed out to intercept the kick with one open palm.

"I'm not here for your entertainment," she spat, and if she managed to intercept the kick she fully intended to try and wrench at Parker's leg to knock her down.

"Then what are you here for?" Parker demanded. "'Cause from this angle, you're a riot."

The blonde had managed to grab her leg, but Carter and Aeryn had done that a lot, so she knew how dive with the wrench, yank her leg loose and roll over and back to her feet as quickly as she could.

"You're fighting defense, you've got no center, and you're predictable. First real fight you get into here, someone won't be as nice as me, little girl."

"Oh, yeah, I'm a frikkin' circus and a half," Katchoo snapped back, and dropped her shoulder to go in for a tackle. "I'm not one of these goddamn white hat hero types. I'm just here to blow off steam."

"Pathetic."

Parker stepped aside, stuck out one long leg and hooked one arm to help Katchoo into a forward roll, or flat on her face. Her call, if she didn't swerve away or just fall over.

"Blondie? The so-called white hats will always be better. So if you want a career as a punching bag, congrats. You're in the right place with that approach."

Oh, flat on her face ended up being the correct answer.

"@#&()!@($*#$)!@()*#%&$#!"

But oddly, that reply made Katchoo feel a little better; Darcy would never have said something like that with a straight face.

"God, that's more naive than I would've expected from you," Katchoo scoffed, swaying a bit as she got to her feet.

"Naive?" Parker cracked up, slowly circling the blonde but staying steady, seeing way too many openings for more ass-kicking. Just for fun, she aimed one literally at the girl's ass. "Niiiice language. I'm assuming you can only do that in English. I'm not impressed." When Katina was at a nicely open angle, Parker aimed three hard blows at her face, chest, and arm.

"And honey." Yes, deliberate condescension there. "Do you somehow labor under the delusion that being a white hat means just playing fair?"

"No, more like I don't think there's ever actually a point to it," Katchoo said, bristling again at the condescension. She dodged the hit to her face, but damn, her chest and arm hurt now, which didn't stop her from trying to get an elbow into Parker's ribs.

For emphasis, she threw in a few choice phrases in Japanese. Oh, joy. Thanks for that legacy, Darcy.

Parker answered back in Japanese: "//You are completely wrong about my mother. And you sound like you learned Japanese in the gutters of Osaka.//" She grunted as the elbow connected, then aimed a reverse strike at Katchoo's face, hard enough to knock her down and bruise if she didn't duck.

"You're an idiot," Parker responded to that last comment. "They rescue people. Save the world. What, you'd rather everything died?"

Katchoo did duck; she was good at that, now that she wasn't quite so off-kilter. You got good at ducking after you'd been around Darcy in enough of her more vitriolic moods.

"//You could say that,//" she dared to respond, because it was more or less true. Then, in English as she tried to kick out at Parker's thigh, "Tilting at windmills, that's all it is."

"Classy," was Parker's comment as they returned to English. "Is that swearing a deliberate attempt to make people underestimate you, or do you just have no self-control?"

She grabbed for the leg kicking out at her, eyebrows going up. "Remember what I did when this happened before?" Parker smirked. "Think you can get loose? Or are you the windmill I just tilted?" Then she moved to wrench the leg in a spin, exactly like Katchoo had done earlier, but higher and with a lot more force.

Edited 2009-05-03 22:24 (UTC)

Katchoo managed to twist her leg free, more out of desperation than anything else, but that didn't save her from hitting the mat on her ass.

"You don't get to just wander in here and judge me," she growled, and never mind that she did it to people all the time. It smarted when it was being taken instead of dished out.

Well, give it up for persistence, if not skill. "Sure I do. I judge everyone." Parker grinned wickedly, and started to stalk after Katchoo. "I get to do that 'cause I can. Are you going to stop me? Or should we call for a white hat?"

"*@&#$ that," Katchoo bit out. She got back to her feet, but her hip hurt now, and she was limping.

Parker gave her an absolutely disgusted look when she saw the limp. "Oh, this is just sad. You expect me to keep fighting you when you're hurt, and I'm barely winded? How much of a sadist do you think I am?" She paused. "Okay, never mind."

She didn't even get into a ready position. "Come at me. Take your best shot, kid."

"I'm no kid." Katchoo called other people that. As far as she was concerned people didn't get to call her one.

. . . she was kind of petty that way.

Limping or not, she moved within arm's reach and just tried for the sucker punch. She was probably going to get a black eye for this.

Somewhere, Tambi was laughing. And facepalming. And laughing some more.

That was so stupid Parker didn't even feel guilty about knocking that arm away, side-stepping, then driving her fist toward the younger girl's face.

Jesus. Newbies. You really literally had to knock sense into them.

"You really, really are."

"Sonofa --"

Katchoo hit the mat, hard, and yes, she was going to have a nice black eye later.

Kind of a shame that hit knocked any kind of response whatsoever clear out of her head.

Parker shook her head, rolled her eyes, and said, "Get the training to back up that attitude, kid. Free advice. Savor it, I don't usually give that out." She turned away and then tossed over her shoulder, "And if anyone asks, the black eye and sparring lesson were courtesy of Parker."

Courtesy of . . .

What. The. Hell.

In the interest of not freaking out, Katchoo didn't get up off the mat for a while.

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Fight Club, Atlas Gym, Sunday Evening

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