ichoosefight | 18 - But satisfaction brought it back

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tlv: mirrorverse

18 - But satisfaction brought it back

Fuck it, you win. I'm the cat curiosity killed.

[ Somehow everything she says seems to carry a tone of bored superiority - kind of like a cat, ironically. But there's genuine curiosity in there, and maybe a small hint of defeat. She isn't supposed to actually give a damn. ]

So why don't we take a few minutes, pretend you don't think I'm an evil mustache twirling version of everyone's favorite fucking cheerleader-reject, and tell me about your barge. Your barge normally, not your barge after interdimensional shit has hit the fan.

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And Daddy to be able to see straight and clean up after their messes.

puppies only work on me when i'm stoned.

[ Man you are getting so many puppy pictures. ]

[ Derek's in a few of them, being a scowly, puppy-disdaining jerk. ]

Look at them. Would you leave them bereft of cuddles and quality care?

Yes, I would. There are more domestic animals in the world than there are people who want pets. Adopt a stray mutt.

But they were strays. Dead planet, all bombed out. Last survivors.

at this point i want to punch you just to shut you up.

You know where my cabin is, gym's open if you wanna spar.

i'm guessing that's the only way I can punch you in the nose without breaking the rules.

fine. deal.

Edited (syntax) 2014-10-09 00:07 (UTC)

Hey, it's a good sweaty work out, burrns of calories and bad feelings. Be at the gym in 10.

[ She doesn't respond, just puts on her work clothes and heads up to the gym.

The hood and mask are just habit, honest. ]

[ Ironically, Jack's discarded his costume for the moment; he's chosen loose sweatpants and Gotham U Athletics Department t-shirt in Heather Gray and Navy Blue. He wraps up his fingers and hands, down to the wrists, covering some of the cutting scars that lined his arms neatly. ]

[ He tilts his head when she arrives, green curls soft against his scalp. They're still short, since his impromptu head shave, two months ago, growing in thick since Iris once urged the barge to rub his fuzzy green scalp. He offers up a crooked smile. ]

You train with the Bat, like the other you?

[ She's already there when he arrives, warmed up from the walk up. When she seems him her eyes narrow, her jaw clenches, every part of her tenses and aches with the memory of past beatings. Fortunately most of that is difficult to see past a hooded cape and filter mask. ]

Long ago in a galaxy far, far away.

[ Those pale white hands have never hefted a crowbar with Jack at the helm of his own mind. They've never maimed or broken or left someone crippled. He finishes up his prep, toeing off his shoes. His nails, on hand and foot, are a green so dark they're almost black. ]

[ He's not sure if the tension that springs up in her frame is from the way he looks or the wound he's probably just poked; her face would give him more, but she's made sure he can't see it. A tactic he knows quite well. ]

I trained with our worlds Ra's al Ghul; The League of Shadows calls me friend. He was a nice guy, before you go thinking he's... whatever he is on your world. After that, I trained with several other masters.

So I'm a Jack of All Trades, you could say.

[ How long has he been waiting for make that joke? You don't even know. ]

So've I. He doesn't like me. Says I have a bad attitude.

[ Those were not his exact words. And surprisingly, it had more to do with her not taking anything seriously than anything else. ]

Now quit stalling and get over here to I can kick your ass.

[ Jack just-- smiles. It's not a Joker grin; it's a touch sad, but it's nothing compared to the movement that comes next-- using those long, powerful legs to bounce to the side, up off the wall, and sail through the air like it's second nature. ]

[ If she came up here with notions that she was going to fight a cackling Joker, she's in for a rude surprise as he settles behind her in a crouch, snapping a leg out to try and take hers out from beneath her. ]

[ She got a sense for him when she brought a shotgun to his door. He did nothing she expected, so now she expects nothing. She doesn't even move until instinct kicks in. It serves her well, because while he gets behind her she does a mid-air spin kick. ]

[ His kick misses, and the low sweep means that her kick misses his head by a fraction of an inch. His short hair ruffled with it. He rolled to the side, and came up swinging, snapping out punches -- not full force, but enough that they'd sting if he hit. ]

[ He doesn't want to hurt her. He's not sure the same can be said in the other direction, though. ]

[ Mask or no mask, Steph wears her heart on her sleeve when she fights. The pent up years of anger, hate, and lust for revenge are all evident in every duck, dodge, knee, elbow, fist. She stays in so close they may as well be boxing. Neither of them get in many hits, but the hits they do get in are fierce. ]

[ There's so much hurt here -- Jack drives her harder for it, goes for moves that could be mean if it weren't his hands doing them. Taunts, mocks, feints and slams -- all to get her angry, to get her to work it out. ]

[ Better him than other people on the barge, right? Better than earning herself a demotion here. Better than a lot of things. ]

[ He's going to have a lot of bruises come morning, though. ]

[ They both will. Jack doesn't stop, and Steph can't stop. The longer it goes on, the more hurt and tired she gets, the harder she fights. In her world she can't lose, because losing means death or worse. It'll take more than a week to quell those instincts. The war never ended for her.

So as the fight gets lengthy Steph puts more and more distance between them before she finally stops, breathing heavy, ready to make an escape as needed. ]

[ Jack is soaked with sweat-- soon the t-shirt's clinging too his frame, and bruises are starting to form. He's done a lot of blocking. IT's been good practice. ]

[ He notices her behavior, though-- and breaks off, hands up. ]

I give, I give.

Holy moses, you're a tiger.

[ The panting and huffing? That's absolutely real. ]

[ Steph can barely breathe. Her suit doesn't show sweat, which is lucky, and not just because of the saying "don't let them see you sweat." Sweat is gross. Bluh.

She can't quite move yet, either. Instinct tells her to run, her brain tells her he won't attack and she should play it cool, her body tells her basically nothing because it's exhausted and would really like to just stop now, please. What's the compromise here? ]

Nose broke yet?

Nope.

Gonna have bruises from wrist to elbow, though.

[ He wipes his mouth; there's some blood there, from a lucky shot. ]

Let me take you to the infirmary. You need a patch job, and Banner here is a really nice guy who isn't a freak. There are other docs and healers, too, if he's too creepy for you.

[ Well that makes it easy. She scowls at him and forces her muscles to relax one at a time. ]

I don't need the infirmary, I can do it myself.

If you're sure.

You at least got some of the edge off?

[ That's what this was about... for him, anyway. ]

Edited 2014-10-09 21:31 (UTC)

18 - But satisfaction brought it back

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[spam] cw; references to past self-harm

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