fightlikehell | (no subject)

Entry tags:

nexus,
samus aran

(no subject)

Since he's going to be in Nexus for awhile, Matt Murdock is working on finding the essentials. A church, a gym and recreational pursuits he never quite was able to get around to without impeding into his late night jaunts incognito. A gym is in order. And all he really asks for is that there be boxing bags and some quiet. Taking in the newest space he pauses and catches the tells of someone familiar. His recollection is not always so keen for someone he's only met once but this particular person...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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.

*She falls back before that kick, catching herself on her shoulders and planting her feet in the small of his back to loft him up past her. Happy landings, devil of dares!*

More room to work with out here, too.

Or happy falling. It's a little of both. Matt nearly crunches his shoulder but recovers with a break dance looking move. Don't ask him what it's called. That part wasn't part of the training Stick started.

"A lot more. And if we break something--" Let's just let that thought drop. Feeling confident still he goes at Samus again. Opting more for this style because the goal is not to beat her into submission.

To be fair, things in the gym seemed fairly sturdy.

*It almost is a dance, their play of strike and block, lunge and evade. With his keen hearing, he might catch the rhythmic not-quite-vocalization of Samus counting time--but whether she's counting up, or counting down, is harder to say.*

"Punching bags aside right?"

Counting? It must be counting. The movement of her lips with the breathing are a giveaway that there's some kind of something. If it is counting than maybe he can go faster. Speed has been a factor in his mode of attack, but not speed for the sake of speed. Why not? Catching up to her time at what Matt will treat as one he goes double. Stroke to block reduced by a fraction of seconds.

Well, they've probably had a lot of people wearing that bag out for a long time.

*Her tone is wry; she knows just how empty that speculation is. She does make a quiet sound of surprise as Matt speeds up, going on the defensive for a few beats.*

You're speeding up. Any reason?

"Only one of you though."

Is that irritation? Is that a real reaction even? Matt tries to subdue a grin as he keeps his pace before trying faster again.

"No. No reason. Want me to stop?"

One of me is generally enough.

*She seems able to keep up with his faster pace, and her counting remains steady, even as the blocks and counters quicken to match him.*

Go at your own pace, whatever you like.

*She knows that most humans don't have the stamina to keep fighting full-throttle for more than two minutes; she's timing Matt to see how he paces himself, and how long he can last.*

"I rest my case."

Now she's making it sound like it's a race. So really the answer is no, Matt's not sure what she's doing. The speed is already manageable before he kicked it up.

"Not your usual?"

Maybe it's faster. He huffs out a breath and tries a little more. Now it's starting to be a strain. After all, he is only human.

Well argued, councilor.

*Well, if Matt wants to get to "tired" first, she certainly won't stop him. Seeing how he reads the behavior of the people he's fighting just tells her that much more about him.*

My usual doesn't matter. This is about you, remember?

*Samus notes the signs of strain, and wonders how far Matt will push himself before he has to admit he's getting tired.*

He has a breathless laugh. Good call indeed. Two minutes and he is starting to slow. His limbs are heavy but Samus again reminds him he's leading the dance. Matt comes back to his own breath again to ground and listen. Weary, but still got plenty of fight. He has gone out with less in him and ended out the night.

"Hope I'm at least giving you some kinda stretch." Words are panting and he still comes at her again. More air kicks and balances.

*She chuckles.*

You are. It's good for me to fight someone mobile now and again, keeps things in perspective.

*Now, when he's tired, she'll start to really put pressure on him--she's been banking her stamina for this (and had a deeper well to draw on, to begin with), and wants to see how he does when he's running short. If anyone wants to see a good wuxia film but can't afford the rental, their sparring match is going to turn into a very good substitute.*