fightlikehell | (no subject)

He falls and is able to use the now free arms to push off the ground to be upright again. No celebration for it, Matt throws himself her way again. Faster now, trying to engage her blow for blow the way a boxer would. Her steady heartbeat and breathing at least tell him where and how she stands. There's no giveaway for what's next.

*She leans to avoid some of his punches, blocks others, but for most she counter-punches at the inside of his elbows, breaking the momentum of his swing.*

Is that your temper showing? Don't tell me that's all it takes to goad you.

*Those words are, of course, another goad. And she still hasn't moved her feet, except to sweep his the once--is she taunting him with her steady stance?*

Breaking but not stopping. That's what matters to him.

"This? No. Not angry." A little insulted though? He would be hard pressed to admit it even though it is the truth. Samus's natural sense of stability is off putting. Paired with her well aimed verbal bars at what he's been working on by himself for years and years, she is making some kind of progress. Matt still keeps consistent and is trying to channel whatever he's feeling into technique.

Taking a gamble and challenging her firm efforts to keep a stance, he springs to try to fit her into a headlock.

Oh Matt.

*Well, he succeeds, in getting her to move a foot, at least--catching his wrist, she half-sidesteps and twists, trying to redirect his momentum and flip him over onto his back. If she can catch him with that, she'll follow up by dropping to pin one side of his neck with her knee.*

You sure?

"Nope!"

The ground doesn't feel great but it's a state he's used to being in. Down, not out. The effort so far has kicked up his heartrate. No real sweat just yet. Matt licks his lips and has to stick out whatever pressure she's got on his neck so he can twist and haul her to the ground.

Whatever it takes.

*She's not pressing on his neck particularly hard, just enough to hold him down and make him aware that she's there. His efforts at a reversal bring a thoughtful, "hm," before she throws herself into his attempt to wrestle her down, using the momentum to bring him past whatever position of advantage he hoped to reach and down again.*

Interesting.

She's up and over him like it's nothing. Matt follows through into a roll and uses his hands to the cold ground to get him back up onto his feet again. A little acrobatic, a little unnecessary but it keeps him moving. Stay moving is important. He's used to targets that are too. Samus keeping still and distant does better for an assessment though, doesn't it?

Fists up again, it's nearly like they had started only their positions switched. "Are you going to even come at me at all?"

*By the time he's found his feet, she's back on hers. She cocks her head to one side a little at his question.*

Are you asking me to? Think you'll do better with countermoves than plain attacks?

*There's that goading again.*

Really? Matt shakes his head and laughs a little breathlessly. "I don't know. I'm sure you'd tell me." Not bothering to wait, he springs her way now opting for more footwork, aiming to swing and jump to lay blows to her shoulders or head. Another notch closer to attempting to do harm.

Christ, does she really want him to hit her?

*She's still leaning aside more often than she blocks, moving only just enough to let him waste his energy in a miss, swatting his fist aside with an open palm when she won't be able to lean far enough without giving up her illusion of not moving at all.*

Good, you use the rhythm of the conversation to distract. But you might--

*She steps in abruptly, ducking under a swing to bring a fist up, hard, into his solar plexus. Hard enough to lift him off the ground a little bit, if he's not ready for it.*

--want to throw your attacks in the middle of a sentence. People expect one at the end.

He grunts and almost doubles over. There's just enough space for him to jump back. "I usually don't talk much doing this." Matt's voice reflects the efficiency of Samus's blow. "In real fast, out real fast."

No, he's not a ninja. A rub and pat to his gut and he breathes his way back into a stance. Accept it and let it go. Besides, he's not bleeding. What a bonus. This time he is going low, sliding for her shins and knees. If she's going to move, he's going to stagger his attacks with punches. Harder, faster.

That's an option.

*She nods just a little, watching him adjust his tactics to her stance. Is he starting to think she isn't light on her feet, that she holds a solid stance because she needs to? She's certainly blocking more than she evades, now, and even letting the occasional blow slip through. She rolls with punches well, twisting to let them glance off, but even a glancing blow will leave a mark, and enough bruises can add up after a while.*

You strike from ambush? Or unnerve with silence?

Samus is lean, muscled and really by all counts what would be considered in a cruiser weight class. She should be light on her feet. Maybe it's different fighting in space. Maybe she's used to other gravities and being weighed down. Maybe there's a suit.

"Uh huh."

The whole mid-rumble dialogue isn't a thing he's had time to cultivate. "Come at me." Because now Matt is the one that's lacking a sense of his opponent. He thinks back to the busted punching bag. "Just no knock outs."

*In this corner, in the snug blue trunks, at six-foot-four and tipping the scales at a little over two hundred pounds--the definitive-article Hunter, Samus Aran! And in the other corner, habitually in red, the devil of Hell's Kitchen, battlin' Matt Murdock!*

Alright.

*There's a quiet sound in her throat, a low, predatory chuckle, as that solid stance melts away, her feet seeming almost to float from place to place. The steady stance from before was to goad him and to test him, and now that she's going on the attack, well, she rarely does things by half-measures. A pair of quick jabs draw his guard, before a roundhouse kick rises toward the side of his head to take advantage of the likely opening. She's fast, faster than someone in her weight class on Earth would be, but always controlled; blows that connect do so only firmly enough to let him know they happened.*

And this would the part where they touch gloves. The bell would sound. The game starts. At least now Matt is getting a sense that whatever she was doing before will not compare to what will happen now.

Swift is an understatement. And boy is she quiet. Matt matches up to most blocks but his timing is just a little off. There was something bigger coming after the jabs. A roundhouse kick wasn't expected. Matt is able to duck but she knocks him on the top most part of his head still. He drops and rolls to get out of the way before getting on is feet again.

"Scared you were gonna hurt me before?"

Nope.

*She's offering no time for Matt to counterattack, throwing a jab to draw a block, only to try to catch his wrist as he blocks, to pull his arm out straight and leave his side wide open to a few taps at key places--if she were striking full force, she'd have numbed his arm, broken his ribs, and mauled his kidney in three quick shots, before driving a knee toward his solar plexus. Again, unless he can block it, she'll let him get away with just a tap, to know that it happened.*

The block is sloppy. She likely would have done mad damage to his arm. Matt twists and wrenches his own arm a small degree before coming back into form stronger for the block. Her tap is read loud and clear. That would have been horrible no matter how you slice it. Samus has a fighting style that is very controlled, possibly enhanced. It's impossible to gauge just how because she isn't even at full strength. Clearly she could kick his ass if she tried and Matt is not some white belt nothing.

*When Matt frees his arm, Samus disengages, springing back out of arm's (and leg's) reach with a single light step.*

I wanted to know what you were capable of. And I knew I wouldn't hurt you.

"I know a bit."

Not in the same way that she does. Samus isn't a thug. And she's clearly one of the more efficient and trained fighters he's encountered. Just goes to show he's got a ways to go on his own journey.

"Want to call it a day or keep going?"

Because he's breaking a sweat now.

I'm still interested, if you've got more you want to show me.

Matt shrugs and rolls his shoulders. He takes a few steps back before stepping into motion, this time it's not the approach of a brawler but more... of a fury of legs and arms, gymnastic and best for crossing space and for multiple attackers. His execution is precise and more of show before directly coming at Samus. Showing off? No, not really. Just showing.

Mm. Taking on groups, now.

*Her tone isn't needling, and she leans or blocks as necessary, but isn't keeping her feet rooted in place anymore. He seems to have won enough of her respect for that, at least.*

You've got good form. Started when you were young?

"Sometimes."

Oh ho. Don't look now. He's trying to manage that talk and fight thing at the same time. Samus's new mobility doesn't go unnoticed. Matt keeps himself light too.

"I started at nine."

It shows.

*She nods, and when he seems like he's ready for a proper dance partner, she starts striking back. She's quite the combat acrobat, herself, and she has a knack for twisting and throwing her center of gravity around that lets her change direction in midair. She knows all too well how often jumping in a fight makes for a predictable landing in a trap.*

I'll admit, this might've gotten a few second looks at the gym.

Such a difference. They move in complimenting motion, fast and meeting and exchanging blows with arms and feet.

Matt laughs a little breathlessly. "Probably, yes." He tries for a double kick with both feet off the ground. Arial action has it's risk because he's got to really be sure to stick a landing. He's become an expert at falling.