Clint Barton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
asthehawkflies) wrote2012-11-17 12:11 am
asthehawkflies) wrote2012-11-17 12:11 am
Entry tags:
[#003] {Violence for fun and profit} Action/Video
[It's a routine they indulge in whenever they're in the same place for more than a couple of days. This seems like a good enough time to pick it back up, test each other a little, and they claim one of the rooms in the Battle Dome, equipping it with mats and padded walls because while the simulation won't allow them to get really hurt by weapons, Clint isn't sure that it can make getting slammed to the ground any less painful.]
Ready, Tasha?
[He's grinning, as much a mask to hide his intentions as her blank expression. They take up position on the mats opposite each other, and there's no bowing, no politeness, just stillness.
He strikes first, a punch that she blocks, returns with a blow of her own, and then they're fighting in earnest. It's vicious, both of them making use of every move at their disposal, a brutal mix of martial arts and outright brawling, dirty tricks and all.
A throw sends Clint sprawling, hitting the bench where they'd left their stuff, and his journal falls open, starting to record the rest of the fight. To anyone not familiar with them, it does look like they're genuinely trying to kill each other. Neither of them really believe in pulling their punches and they're eerily silent while they fight, neither of them making any noise besides grunts of exertion.
They seemed evenly matched for the most part, Clint's size and strength well matched by Natasha's speed and agility and the training she'd undertaken since childhood. Eventually though, one of them comes out on top, and it's Clint who ends up floored and winded, laid out on his back, Natasha above him, pinning him down and her elbow pressed against his throat.
He groans softly, and then smiles.]
I yield.
[OOC: Responses will be answered by Clint, or Natasha, or more likely, both.]
Ready, Tasha?
[He's grinning, as much a mask to hide his intentions as her blank expression. They take up position on the mats opposite each other, and there's no bowing, no politeness, just stillness.
He strikes first, a punch that she blocks, returns with a blow of her own, and then they're fighting in earnest. It's vicious, both of them making use of every move at their disposal, a brutal mix of martial arts and outright brawling, dirty tricks and all.
A throw sends Clint sprawling, hitting the bench where they'd left their stuff, and his journal falls open, starting to record the rest of the fight. To anyone not familiar with them, it does look like they're genuinely trying to kill each other. Neither of them really believe in pulling their punches and they're eerily silent while they fight, neither of them making any noise besides grunts of exertion.
They seemed evenly matched for the most part, Clint's size and strength well matched by Natasha's speed and agility and the training she'd undertaken since childhood. Eventually though, one of them comes out on top, and it's Clint who ends up floored and winded, laid out on his back, Natasha above him, pinning him down and her elbow pressed against his throat.
He groans softly, and then smiles.]
I yield.
[OOC: Responses will be answered by Clint, or Natasha, or more likely, both.]
Re: [action]
Let me know. See what his take is and we can go from there. I can probably be found here quite often. My name's Natasha. This is Clint.
[action]
He offers a brief smile.]
Or just throw up a note on the journal.
Re: [action]
[Unless either of them has anything else to add, she'll let them be on their way then.]