12676/Eye of the Tiger

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Eye of the Tiger
Date of Scene: 04 September 2022
Location: Blake House - Exterior
Synopsis: A sparring match devolves into flying lessons.
Cast of Characters: Thomas Blake, Michael Hannigan, Zinda Blake




Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake is sparring with Mike Hannigan. As he does not want to hurt Mike and wants him to move quicker, the former villain has been dicking every blow from the musician for the last twenty minutes. A few land but not with any force that matters and they get a short slow clap. The trash talking never ends.

"You let Wade fight your battles while you hold his purse? Nice training outfit! They sell men's wear where you got it? Will you get mad and fucking hit me?"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
To be clear, Mike is not a slow person usually. Usually. There are times when he can be asleep at the switch. And then there's the times where he's moving too quickly. Today's kind of an in between type of day. Despite the egging on by Thomas, Mike doesn't run towards the larger opponent, fists swinging. But instead his hands are held ready, doing what he can to redirect the blows being thrown towards him.

There's a stark contrast between the two in terms of vocal tones. While Thomas has been yelling, Mike's been...weirdly silent.

And then Thomas brings Wade into the discussion.

Eyes narrowing, the next time Thomas throws a punch, Mike throws a an arm up, once more redirecting the path the arm is taking. But instead of just stopping there, the musician travels forward, bringing up the other arm to strike at Thomas's head. Letting the motion carry through, drawing the arm back afterwards to another blocking position.



Zinda Blake has posed:
The front door opens, then slams shut as a familiar blonde steps out of the house. It's Thomas' dear, sweet Auntie, wearing her trademark pleated miniskirt and go-go boots. Along with a white wifebeater tee that fits her on the snug side, showing that she's definitely kept her figure.

Zinda is also carrying a mouth guard and two pair of padded knuckle-gloves, apparently deciding against protective headgear. Fastening the velcro wrist closures, she watches for a moment before timing what she says next.

"Hey Thomas, I found this real cute lil' pink tigersuit inside, but wasn't sure what them lil' ears were for..."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake's head snaps around. Tigersuit? Ears?

Curiosity killed who? Hannigan's blow connects, right on the button. thomas takes a step back, eyes cross a moment.

He puts his hands up. "Okay, let's end on that high note for you, well done. though it took some doing. No fair Auntie!" He spits some blood out and removes his guard.

"Ok, Mike. Continue, now don't hurt my poor little auntie." Thomas goes for a beer, which is close to the basket Zinda brought.

Yes, poo little auntie s not only rich, she's about Mike's height. He gves Zinda a glare. You know what you did he seems to say.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
There's something funny about the way the human brain interprets what we see. Our eyes pick up a LOT of images and send them to the brain. But rather than process every single one of the images, the brain kind of does one out of a set amount of shots. It's not like you'll notice.

But, when there's the indication that there's something out of the ordinary happening. The brain goes 'Hold up' and checks through the images a bit more thoroughly. It turns out Thomas turning his head is a sufficient enough trigger to allow for Mike to see what's going on. As for evasive maneuvers, well. Some moves, once committed can only be completed and the only thing that can be done is to sort of put on the air brakes.

Mike's follow through isn't quite as complete. But the look of regret is already set upon his face when he feels the connect if skin upon skin.

Mike lowers his hands, "Tom, you okay? I didn't mean to-"

Well Thomas is already walking away. Mike sighs, looking over to Zinda. "Hey."

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake puts on one glove as she approaches Mike, tossing him the other pair. "Here, honey. Put these on. Adds a little weight an' keeps yer knuckles pretty."

Speaking of pretty, yes she is apparently going to tag in as his sparring partner. Skirt and all. "I'm more yer weight class than that lunk over there, but don't let that fool ya'. I fought bigger guys than Thomas, an' I ain't gonna hold back. If yer afraid to hit me 'cause I'm a girl, I'm gonna knock yer block off."

And with that, she flashes one of those poster-worthy smiles and pops in her black mouthguard.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake looks up from the basket with a biscuit in each hand and one in his mouth.

"Flumk?" He swallows hard. "Yeah, Mike, don't worry about hurting her. I read how she landed a plane with three bullets in her! Don't let her beauty distract you... oooh! Sandwiches!" Thomas goes to town.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike looks to the gloves being offered to him, the items seeming like foreign concepts to him. "...I don't think I've ever gotten into a fight where someone's gone 'Hold up. Let's put on some gloves.'" He mutters in complaint before putting the guard back in as handicaps himself further with the gloves. The lack of movement allowed to his fingers are a bit more disconcerting. He shakes his head in discontent before he brings his forced fists up. Stance once again defensive in nature.

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake watches him put on the gloves, and already she starts circling like a predator. She pops out the mouthguard for a moment to offer. "The gloves are for yer protection, honey. Trust me. We're practicin' now, not real fightin'..." She waits until he is ready, fists up defensively.

Zinda's stance is like a boxer and so is her footwork... that same bounce-shuffle seen on TV. And true to her word, the blonde doesn't waste any time. Working into distance, she offers two quick left jabs to test his defenses, followed by a fully-committed right to the chest with her full weight behind it.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake says, "I don't know what you do to these sammiches -but they're incredible. Don't worry. I left you plenty. Hey auntie, I want you to meet my pal Cain. I think you'd have a lot in common. He's a really good guy, usually. I'll have him over if you want. ... don't tell me these pickles are homemade? Wow!" e settles down to watch.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Hmm." Mike responds, not taking out the mouthpiece. He's aware of his disadvantage at the moment so social speak is not quite on his list of priorities. Instead he's watching Zinda intently. Possibly more so than with Thomas.

As Zinda brings the left over towards him, Mike's right swats the arm away while the left keeps with its job of protecting the core. The right immediately returns to center, taking over as his left swats the incoming right further in the direction it was traveling. Utilizing some footwork of his own, Mike spins to try and orbit around her to get out of reach of the arms.

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake can't really talk because of the mouthpiece, but she does mumble something about the pickles. Between punches, of course. Mike handles her punches and she nods encouragingly.

When he turns she moves her orbit as well, keeping the distance. Controlling it. For a woman born over 100 years ago she's very light on her feet, and very quick. A couple of feints with her feet, forward-back, and she tests his judgement. Then she throws a few more punches. Right... right-left... left-left... She is mixing it up as she bounces, sweat beginning to darken her tee.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake watches intently. He does some boxing style fighting. The major difference being sometimes he waits, sometimes he strokes first. It's a good demonstration of the sweet science before him. ON the one side a trained boxer, on the other a product of the Gotham school system. He offers various color commentaries, "Not the face, he has a concert! Not the face she has a board meeting! C'mon... if you hero types met on the street, you'd have a brawl first thing. Oh that has to hurt! Hey have respect for the celebrity/artist/veteran/senior citizen!"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
If it was not for the slight sounds of impact, one could term what is going between Zinda and Mike as being a silent dance. Although upon observation, it's clear that Zinda's leading for the most part. As one turns, the other rotates along with them. With each right thrown, a left is used to block. With each left, the right is used. And each time the arms move back to center, protecting the core.

As time goes on, and more punches are thrown, it becomes clear how Mike is prioritizing the blocks. More so as one of Zinda's lefts gets stopped at the point where the old scar on Mike's right forearm resides. If the attack is heading towards some place vital, the chest, the head. It's getting blocked. But the grazes upon the arms, those are getting through.

And then Tom says something.

"M OT A ERO!" Comes the muffled response. The mouthpiece cuts off some of the sound but it's apparent Mike did not agree with one of Thomas's statements.

THUNK!

"GA-DA"

Oh he's going to be feeling that in his arm for awhile.

Zinda Blake has posed:
If nothing else, it looks like Zinda is going to wear Mike down first. Yeah, her bare arms and legs are glistening and that t-shirt is damp, but Zinda keeps right on bouncing and bobbing and weaving like she has all day.

Or like she could do this all day...

She slips her mouthpiece forward, holding it in clenched teeth. "KEETH YER GUARD UTH" Then back in it goes. Yeah, she sees how he's favoring the scratched arm.

Then Zinda goes on full attack, advancing quickly while hitting with a barrage of fists in short, quick bursts.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake gets up. "I'm calling this. He was already sparring with me for a half hour and I need to teach him not to take the bait when someone is being a dick. But auntie, if you're still game, I'll spar with you a little. Or we can have lunch." He looks like he can go either way. He has one of those faces cats have when you think they believe everyone is a tool. You ought to see him when he walks into a glass door.

Strike that. The basket has his eye. He tries to step between the two. "Hey have a beer." Thomas is sometimes a tool himself. No act.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike shakes his head, arms going back to protecting the core. The burst of punches does end up getting a few more hits in on the outside but as she starts moving in closer, Mike shoves her off. One glove leaves center to start swinging.

And the session's called.

Not having reached the point of no return, Mike pulls back the punch. Stepping away to avoid accidental contact. He glances to the side, taking gloves off.

The mention of beer does get a nod.

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake has a forearm up to block the punch that never comes, but when the session is called and Mike steps back she grins and does the same. Spitting the mouth guard into one hand she gives him a playful tag on the shoulder before starting to take her gloves off as well.

"Yer alright, Hannigan." she offers, beaming. Probably as good a compliment as the fighter ace gives. "An' thanks fer the workout. Much better 'an sucker-punchin' drunks in a bar. Or in a 'smash pit'..."

Mosh pit, of course. But that's a different story.

She rips open the velcro on her own gloves, and the blonde is both sweaty and breathing faster by now. "You better 've saved us some biscuits, nephew."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake adopts a look of mock anger. Mike knows real anger all too well in Catman. "Oh yeah? You maybe want a go at me sober, Ms. Keep 'Em Flying?" He puts out his hands, ready to spa, or claw. Hard to say. He abruptly grabs Zinda's arm and pulls her into a hug. She's too tall to leave the ground like Gabby or Pixie. He doesn't seem to mind the sweat and then... he throws the female fury over his shoulder, strides to the pool and flings her out into the water. Good loft too.

"Hey, I thought you could fly! you're next Hannigan..." He stalks toward Mike.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike takes the mouthpiece out. "Thanks." He replies to Zinda's comment, "Was a good session." Even if he's not fully sold on the gloves thing yet. He pauses at the mention of a smash pit. "Smash pit?" He repeats curiously, "Like a mosh p-"

Mike pauses as he watches Zinda go flying into the pool. He bursts into laughter tot he comment, "She was flying! It was the landing that got her!" And then Tom turns towards him. "Wait! No!" He starts to move from Thomas's path, still laughing. "What about the beer?!"

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake is still pulling her gloves off, which is likely why Thomas was able to grab a hold of her without getting clocked. "Hey, now...!" she begins, tugging back in protest.

He may be drunk but he's still stronger, and Zinda goes easily over his shoulder... legs kicking and fists thumping on his back. "Thomas Blake! Don't you dar-...." And then she goes sailing through the air into the pool.

Ass over teakettle, as it were. With the flip of the short skirt those are definitely NOT granny-undies; modern and white with lace.

SPLOOSH!

Zinda splutters as she comes up, hair still curly even if it IS soaking wet. The t-shirt... the WHITE t-shirt... may as well not even be there now, soaked through and clinging to her. The bra matches the undies, white lace. Demicup. Yep, she definitely still has her figure.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake stands stock still. Fo a moment he is a kid, hand caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Or on Pixie's behind. Then... he blushes. All this a moment that seems to go on fer'ever.

Look away look away look away look away look away look away look away look away look away look away look away look away!

And he does, shutting his eyes and for once mortified. It's his aunt FFS. He doesn't even drop the F-bomb around her.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
After all the times today where Thomas complained about Mike refusing to go on the offensive, it is here at this moment where Mike ends up actually following through. Thomas's threat was made clear and the musician knew whatever happened, he was going to end up in that pool.

So while Thomas is standing at the edge of the pool. Mike takes advantage of the man staring at his aunt in shock by shoving Thomas in. He grins before diving in himself.

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake gasps and splutters, both hands more concerned about pushing the wet, blonde locks out of her face than anything else. She sloshes and wades over to the edge of the pool, starting to climb out. The t-shirt is a lost cause, and it's a good thing that her bra is both decent and pretty. Swinging a leg up, the water runs out of her boot and the wet skirt rides up as well to expose a lot of bare hip.

Auntie Zinda wears French-cut undies, apparently. Still spluttering, her foot catches the top of the pool and she tumbles, leaving no doubt. Finding her feet at last, Zinda pulls off her boots and dumps them out. And then, while pointing a finger at Thomas, she laughs.

Heartily.