asthehawkflies | [#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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You could be a god on the pitch and I wouldn't have a damn clue.

[His smile fades a little upon seeing Jack's expression.]

You could be better than 'well enough'.

[Jack snorts softly at Clint's quip, as he's anything but a god on the pitch. He's not even sure he qualifies as a priest. But all of that dissolves into curiosity and uncertainty with his next comment.]

. . . are you offering?

Yeah, I'm offering. I'm good at what I do. Not like my schedule is full at the moment, either.

[From everything Jack's gathered, what was good enough back at Abel is not nearly good enough in Luceti. The bar is phenomenally higher, and idyllic as the place may be, things can take a turn for the ugly very quickly. So he nods without much hesitation at all, short and sure.]

I'd appreciate that - really. Thanks. [He pauses, looking between the bat and the camera, then smiling hesitantly.] Should I start . . . I don't know, jogging? Punching sides of beef?

[Clint gives him a baffled look for that, frowning slightly.]

Why would you want to waste a perfectly good side of beef when you can just get a punching bag?

Running is good to build up stamina. I can set up a training program here.

Ah- nevermind. Film reference.

[Honestly, Jack doesn't remember the answer. But punching a side of beef had always seemed cool in a very mindless way.]

But running, I can start with that. When should I stop by?

I'll take your word for it.

How about tomorrow morning? I'm usually up at the Battle Dome training.

Wonderful. I'll see you then.

[Jack hesitates, then waves shortly before closing the journal, not daring to grin until it's securely shut.

This idea might be marvellous, and it might be terrible. But with any luck, it's somewhere in the middle.]

[#003] {Violence for fun and profit} Action/Video

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