| In The Ring |
| Summary: | Sparring takes place between a Marine and a member of CIC. |
| Date: | PHD 222 (11-26-09) |
| Related Logs: | None |
| Players: |
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[ Gym - Deck 3 ]--------[ CEC Kharon ]
This large room is large. The bulkheads are grey, like the rest of the ship, though the rubberized floor is a warm tan. A variety of blue mats, of varying thickness, are available to be pulled out for various purposes, though a huge mat in the back stays out to serve as as a sparring mat. A large red circle is taped down to mark the the boundaries of the ring.
Racks of free weights are bolted to the wall, and a few are bolted to the floor against the wall. Typical Nautilus style weight machines are available for use, as is a long bank of treadmills, a few step machines, and a couple of rowers. A few shelves of fresh folded white towels occupies a wall by the hatch, with a couple of bins below for used dirties. They are emptied often and washed. Thank your laundry personnel!
The end of a duty shift finds Pandorian in the gym within fifteen minutes, the young Marine having had enough of lying around and sleeping. Or rather, intent on being able to do it again in the next eight hour racktime two shifts from now. He bolts into the gym in his Marpats and Nip-man shirt, immediately stepping out of the loosely laced boots as he takes in who's in his way. Er, who's here.
Finally, some time off to spend in the gym opposed to being stuck in CIC, the repairs of the DRADIS going well enough that she doesn't have to oversee them or help. She comes in, heavy duffle slung over her shoulder, looking tired but alright, her hands still wrapped in gauze bandages from when she got a bit fried. The duffle's set down and unzipped but she doesn't go through it yet, instead taking a moment to look around as she purses her lips in thought.
Between the casualties and people resting from nonstop alert, it's pretty empty here. The Marine stoops down to fish a black knife from his bag. He pads across the floor, then, rolling first one shoulder and then the other. His balance is on the balls of his feet, even when he twists from side to side to limber up. The knife is bit between his teeth while the man windmills his arms, which quickly turns into an arcing toe-touch.
"You know, I don't think you'll need that knife, there. Don't think the heavy bags are in the habit of assaulting people." Jara smiles as she says that, unable to keep herself from teasing the man while he goes about his warm up. "Hey, you know, I've been dying for a sparring match. Care to partner up with me?" The gear inside her bag is now pulled out, the thickly padded head and kidney protectors and her gloves as well as a mouth guard, all items that have seen quite a lot of use.
"Grmh?" Pandorian's face is already red from grabbing his ankles; it can't get any more so, but he feels like it is as he squints back between his knees. "Muff nak mormpha…" With a smile - er, frown - he stands back up and takes the knife from his mouth. "I'm not sure what you mean," he says carefully, tossing the knife from hand to hand. Not very far, but there's a little spin to it.
"Uh…oh. Well…uh…" Jara looks at Panda with a slightly raised brow, her head held at a slight slant to the left and she pauses, not sure where his confusion is coming from. "You know…sparring?" She points to the ring, her right hand used to do so, while her left is awkwardly used to pull the head gear into place, that being her off hand. "Do you box at all?" There's a slight note of disbelief in her voice. Surely the man's not so dense that he doesn't know what she's asking.
The man tilts his head, the knife stopping in one hand. "You mean, me?" It's tossed to the other. "And… you?" The weapon is peered at now instead of the woman, which causes his voice to come out in a distracted waver. "Trading blows?"
Hadjara puts the mouth guard into her mouth but then talks, clenching her teeth to keep it from falling when she does. "Yesh…you mmmf me…" Rolling her eyes, she takes it out for a second to add, "Unless you're scared you'll get your ass handed to you by a girl." Grinning, she waits for the reaction while she finishes getting geared up, the mouth guard returned to her mouth and then the kidney protection and gloves, the way she does a study in practice as she does all this without hesitation or flaw.
Panda runs a hand through his hair - carelessly, the one with the knife. "Uh, yeah, look…" His glances to each side find no words magically floating in the air. Damn. "I'm sure, wherever you come from, you're pretty good." There's as much slow patience as cocky swagger in his voice. "Or not bad."
Hadjara shrugs. "I'm okay," she mutters while succumbing to her humility, Jara not the kind to brag. Sure, she could mention having won ribbons and even a medal but it's just not how she is. "Get yourself geared up. First to five points wins the match. Sound good?"
A head-shaking chortle greets her offer, the buck then waggling his finger at her and fixing the woman with a manic grin. "Nah nah, I don't think so. See, this?" the man asks, tugging at his shirt. "This means I ain't got time to play around. But look, I'll make a deal. One minute. You last without any red on ya…" He tosses the knife into his left hand and turns about-face, heading for the ring. "And maybe I'll find some time for games."
There's a shake of her head but Jara doesn't even seem surprised, this kind of behavior something she's been exposed to by males and females alike, it being a hazard, in a way. "Put your frakking knife down and we'll fight." The boxer warms up while waiting for him to comply, Panda's knife enough to make her a bit nervous, but she doesn't let her wariness show.
"I'm not very good," he offers, shifting his footing once in the ring. The knife goes from left to right, back to left again. "You're sure?" The man asks, waiting just long enough to turn towards her and shrug. "Suit yourself." That's when the black blade flicks into the air in an underhanded toss.
The knife sails towards Jara and hits her which is really the one thing she is startled by, the point hurting as it pokes at her side. Growling, she lunges for the Marine, aiming a punch for the enlisted man's face, not even stopping to notice if she's bleeding or to see if he's even bothered to put on protective headgear.
Panda lets out that cackling guffaw of someone who knows that now they've really done it. He's backpedaling, hands waving in windmills to deflect her jabbing fists. She may feel she's got the advantage, but that's his game: With a whoop he ducks under her elbow and lunges both arms past her side to try and throw her behind him.
The grapple happens, kind of as he grabs an arm but the throw? So not happening but thanks for trying. Have another punch aimed for your efforts, mother frakker. Grunting, she sends a roundhouse for his left temple, the kind that just might knock the man cold if it connects hard enough, the punch the kind known to end matches in a TKO.
It's a good punch, aimed well and true, and Hadjara's able to use the twist of her torso to add momentum without risking the rather overextended man hooking her arm. On the other hand, he's in the perfect position to jump out of the way: Not only do his legs provide leverage, but with a resounding smack upon her bottom his arms get into the game too, throwing Panda behind her out of harm's way. He's snickering as he rolls to his feet.
The smack is just adding insult to his possible injury, the liberties he takes with her bottom lighting the fuse on the powder keg. Growling, she twists, pivoting on her feet to face him, another punch leveled for his head although this time it's straight, his nose her target now. She can't speak due to the mouth guard but her expression says it for her - 'Don't you -dare- touch me, mother frakker!'.
Panda whips a hand up to grab her fist, but succeeds only in redirecting it off his own wrist. "Oh she's gettin' warmed up she is," he laughs in a low voice while ducking to one side, then when she twists that way bobbing to the other. The next weave is but a feint, replaced with a dive at her midsection that, so he hopes, will become a take down.
Hadjara sidesteps while recovering from Panda's missed tackle, it causing her to sneer in a defiant manner. A gloved hand is moved in a tsking fashion, the only thing missing is the extended forefinger, and then its mate is once more slung at him, trying to take him down with a hard jab to his guts, following that up with a jab to his face.
Panda takes time to clap his hands together in appreciation of the taunt. He wheels back, instinctively swiping her arm out of his face. "Little low," he grunts, trying to grab her forearm with both hands. If he does, it's a hip toss for her!
One arm is caught at the same time Jara pushes him back a tiny bit, trying to get some room between their bodies. It's a sham though as, once she is able to do so, she tugs back on the arm Panda has a hold of at the same time she punches at him again, trying to get a good headlong collusion to happen.
It's no fancy wrestling move, there's no kung-fu in the air. Panda is spared a hell of a headache simply by virtue of his arms coming down after letting go. "Arright break!" he barks, bringing his arms up in guard and skittering back away from the pugilist.
Hadjara stops after Panda calls things to a halt. Reaching up, she spits the semi-soft, rubber-like guard out into her gloved hand, a string of saliva attaching it to her mouth until gravity takes hold, pulling it away. "Wow. You're good." There's no sign of her anger that she exhibited earlier, nothing admiration to be found now. "What's your name, huh?"
Panda's hands don't remain up for more than a breath, it's clear from the instantaneous change in her body language that she's not advancing. Breathy from the exertion he approaches, hand extended. "Ajtai, from Leonis," he tells her. "You get any better and I might have to change my rule about not hitting girls."
Hadjara rolls her eyes. "Look, Ajtai. I'm a frakking boxer. You not hitting me is kind of insulting. -Especially- because I'm female." There's a quick poke-jab made at him, it not touching but almost, it meant as a gesture rather than a punch. "So next time how about growing a pair and putting your A-game on, alright?" His shoulder's patted and then she gets out of the ring, starting to strip off her gear so it can be put away.
