[closed]

[erbier]

CHARACTERS: Ilde, Mara, Batman
WHERE: Concordia
WHEN: DAY 33
SUMMARY: This is a training montage
WARNINGS: There's some violence and a tad bit of gore.

She has to go digging in Angel's clothes for 'athletic' wear. It is not a term Ilde particularly understands or even agrees with, but it seems that it would be best to follow Mara's instructions, for the time being. Still, any fight she gets in to... she is likely to be wearing a dress, why not practice in one? She only grumbles a little as she pulls into one of Angel's pairs of stretchy leggings with its panels of mesh. She pokes around for a shirt as well, but finds it more difficult to find a fit. She finally determines something that will have to do and goes to meet Mara on the rooftop. The rooftop of their building was the best compromise to be found. Perhaps somewhere isolated in the industrial district, but then it would have been the pair of them isolated on the far side of the industrial district. If something went wrong it could be troublesome. Besides, others have already used the rooftop for their fights. She's already had to move some of the plants into safer locations.

It's her turn. She is not so much nervous as excited. She has never had anyone like Mara in her life. There had rarely been other women, at all, once she began to live in the palace.

Even fewer, after Camille had been found a witch.

The blast of cool air as she comes out onto the roof removes that thought from her. It also catches her hair and blinds her for a moment as she moves to take control of all the long blonde locks and tie them up. She uses the same bit of twine she's always used to knot off the end of the braid.

Comments

[erbier]

She's almost surprised that he feeds her ways to attack him, but that fades quickly. She knows very well that much of this is about muscle memory, about practice. It reminds her distantly of playing chess with their littlest Sam. One did not start out with much skill, but as you learned the rhythm of the game, one improved a step at a time. Bruce has his own rhythm. Mara hers. Each enemy.

For a few rounds she lets herself fall into what he feeds her, letting her breathing fall in line.

And then with a sharpness she deviates, pivoting on her back foot and bringing a leg swinging around in a rough kick to the ribs. A good move in terms of power, momentum generated from the twist of her hips, but a spin kick almost always telegraphs.

[batmotif]

She was following his instructions well enough, but Bruce's twinge of satisfaction is swept aside by an unyielding focus. Because he knows where she will attack, he knows where to block, where to dodge. But that was hardly the point. This was indeed an exercise in muscle memory, in repetition. Like most, she would likely learn more readily when presented with nothing short of good old fashioned practice -- and a hint of hardheadedness.

The rhythm and flow is stable, and the session continues without complications. That is, until she twists her body to aim a kick at his ribs; Bruce sees it for what it is, he can see the shift of her weight that indicates something more than just the right hook that he had telegraphed her.

His forearm comes up to block it, taking the brunt of the hit. The contact is forceful and enough to form a bruise later, but he's had much worse.

"Anyone who knows how to fight could see that coming." Not so much a criticism as a stated fact, a consideration for her to take into account in the future.