![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
[closed] but nobody wants to know him
CHARACTERS: Bruce and Parker
WHEN: Day mumblemumble
WHERE: Training area
SUMMARY: Two people punch each other in the face a lot. (Sparring match.)
WARNINGS: Other than the expected violence from sparring/fighting, nothing! Will change if necessary.
[Bruce’s routine on the station has become predictable at this point. If one said that fifty to sixty percent of his time was spent training in some form or fashion, it wouldn’t be far from the truth. It keeps his mind focused, and his body from becoming lazy; it is, honestly, probably not that much different a routine than what it might have been on Gotham, just interrupted less by board meetings and charity auctions.
He’d call it a blessing, but even Bruce isn’t so thoughtless as to take such things for granted, these days.
But even the strictest regimen needs variety, else it becomes stale. Punching bags don’t hit back, and there were only so many times he could traipse through an obstacle course before it become mindless, near repetitive — the opposite of what he wants out of his daily training. And so he casts his gaze around the area, settling on someone he knows in passing. Someone who, honestly, might just tell him to take a long walk off a short pier, given their previous run-in with each other. (Never let it be said that such a thing has stopped Bruce before.)
And so, he walks over to Parker, his expression the same as what she might remember: serious and unwavering, as if forever on the edge of falling into a full-fledged frown.]
I need a sparring partner. [-he says, as if expecting the implication to be clear.]
WHEN: Day mumblemumble
WHERE: Training area
SUMMARY: Two people punch each other in the face a lot. (Sparring match.)
WARNINGS: Other than the expected violence from sparring/fighting, nothing! Will change if necessary.
[Bruce’s routine on the station has become predictable at this point. If one said that fifty to sixty percent of his time was spent training in some form or fashion, it wouldn’t be far from the truth. It keeps his mind focused, and his body from becoming lazy; it is, honestly, probably not that much different a routine than what it might have been on Gotham, just interrupted less by board meetings and charity auctions.
He’d call it a blessing, but even Bruce isn’t so thoughtless as to take such things for granted, these days.
But even the strictest regimen needs variety, else it becomes stale. Punching bags don’t hit back, and there were only so many times he could traipse through an obstacle course before it become mindless, near repetitive — the opposite of what he wants out of his daily training. And so he casts his gaze around the area, settling on someone he knows in passing. Someone who, honestly, might just tell him to take a long walk off a short pier, given their previous run-in with each other. (Never let it be said that such a thing has stopped Bruce before.)
And so, he walks over to Parker, his expression the same as what she might remember: serious and unwavering, as if forever on the edge of falling into a full-fledged frown.]
I need a sparring partner. [-he says, as if expecting the implication to be clear.]