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