goneawayworld | Idiots in Stereo

[Watching Armstrong get ready for a workout is an education in muscle movement. Watching him, you wouldn't think he got touched in the mission with the xenomorphs. While that's not exactly true, Armstrong heals fast. He'd been planning on a bit of a run to loosen up before teaching his next lesson today, but Washington's approach changes that.

Right, they'd talked about this. He turns with a little smile, then gestures to the ring.]

Sure. We can get gear from under the ring.

[At least the gym is well stocked. They've even got Armstrong's preferred leather gloves and headgear instead of the cheaper vinyl crap. He peels off his shirt on the way there and rolls his shoulders, loosening up before seeing what Washington has for him.]

[Wash cranes his head each way and stretches his neck, then puts on a helmet and picks a heavier set of gloves, which is a little revealing. It makes it clear he's over 200 pounds.]

This trainer of theirs, what areas of training is he neglecting?

[He walks out into the center of the sparring area.]

Planker.

[Armstrong snags the 20 ounce gloves. He doesn't need the protection and the weight won't slow him down appreciably, but the extra cushioning might be appreciated. Slipping on the helmet and the leg and foot guards, he's ready.

Armstrong's skipped the mouth guard. He's gonna be doing some talking and he doubts Wash can rattle his teeth any. Approaching the 'ring', more of a large matted area meant for grappling than a true boxing ring, he snaps out a few jabs and hooks before settling into position. He hunches slightly, bringing both fists up near his jaw, left foot forward. It's picture perfect, a traditional and basic special ops stance, right out of the manual.

This isn't his preferred stance, but it's the first he teaches the human-bodied students. Good for all around offense and defense, a little slow movement-wise, and Wash's attempts to counter can tell him a lot about the man.]

Do you remember seeing any bad drill sergeants in your basic training? [He's no Marine, they're not DIs to him.] The sadists who spend more time breaking people down than building them up? That's Planker. It would faster to tell you what areas of training he isn't neglecting, except I'd have to think for a while on that.

[He extends a glove. In some arenas you'd bow. In boxing, you'd touch gloves to show respect at the start of the match.]

He runs people until they drop, drags them into push-ups or pull-ups, then goes towards situps and other core exercises. There's no build up or anything, he simply starts at 100% of what he expects people to accomplish. If you can already do it, too bad, you're still doing it. When he teaches combat sessions, all he's interested in is causing pain. Sometimes he'll just throw people to combat robots and give a running summary of what they're doing wrong. And he's not stupid enough to get within arm's reach to correct stances or give demonstrations.

Edited 2020-09-28 01:19 (UTC)

Doesn't exactly sound like a tough act to follow.

Especially if you put the work in.

[His sentiments on training aren't exactly gentle but you don't put people through hell without making sure they're actually absorbing what you're trying to teach.]

[And it's not about pain for pain's sake.]

[He pops in a mouth guard and then steps up and taps gloves, falling back into solid stance, mostly defensive. Wash was never the most aggressive Freelancer and he wants to get a sense of Armstrong's strength first.]

True. There's still obstacles, like time and willingness, but they definitely respond better to a more... personal touch.

[No opener from the new guy? Huh. Okay. Well, then, Armstrong can do that. He moves in, tapping out a mercury smooth one-two. While he's strong, he usually has to try to be stronger and, for now, he's not. He can't learn anything about the guy if he knocks him out in two shots, except maybe that the Agent has a glass jaw. He's keeping it controlled. Fast, still hard, but hardly superhuman.

Yet.]

Fortunately, most of our people aren't idiots.

Most.

[Wash was never the strongest combatant on the leaderboard squad but he still ranked 6 out of 50 in a program where all the agents were high performing (albeit often formerly court martialed) soldiers pulled in because of their skill. And he's been fighting and surviving several years since Freelancer imploded. Not to mention there's a few extra years of muscle memory he can't account for due to the memory block.]

[He fights well, with a style that's clearly a mix of multiple forms of combat and martial arts. When he realizes how solidly Armstrong hits, he adapts, moving into a more defensive style with parries to try to avoid getting splattered, with enough ducks and dodges to counter Armstrong disrupting the parrying patterns with changes in his attacks.]

[But he's still not as skilled as his opponent, taking more hits than he's giving. And he's also capable of, you know, actually getting tired. He also realizes something, dancing backward to buy just enough time to spit out the mouth gard so he can briefly talk. Fortunately it's attached to the helmet.]

You...you don't feel a thing, do you?

[He can tell. Even when he gets a good hit in, there's not much give. It's like hitting a brick wall.]

[He's been in fights like this before, like the occasional dreaded sparring session with Tex, where she was basically superhuman, even more than Carolina. (For good reason, considering where she came from.) ]

[When Wash goes defensive, Armstrong goes offensive. He turns his body partly away, keeps his right arm up, and then lowers his left arm to about his waist, swinging it in a steady pace. What this means for Wash is that Armstrong's sacrificing some defense, but his left arm now delivers flickering jabs from multiple angles, with less warning than before, maneuvering the Freelancer until he can follow up with a brutal right. Detroit Hitman style, for the boxing enthusiasts, his preferred style when making sport.

Not that Armstrong tells the Agent that he's going soft on him.]

Not bad. Some people don't realize it until after the fight. [He pauses, then takes the helmet off, shaking his hair loose before assuming a loose martial arts stance.] I'm a Cyberline enhancile. We can go down the list later, but, no, you haven't hurt me yet.

[A beat, then a polite nod of the head to the collection of weight discs and dumbbells.]

You can get a bar and use it like a club if you like.

[His tone is mild, perfectly polite.]

If it makes a difference, you're definitely in the top five fighters we've got here so far. Going by pure skill, anyway. I'm honestly impressed.

[And then he hops, straight up from a standing position, and casually snaps a kick out at the side of Wash's head.]

[Yep, he's - he's seeing stars. Because - because people usually don't leap straight from a standing position like they're a goddamn ballerina and kick you in the fucking face. The gracefulness of it, the speed, the ease catches him completely off guard.]

[The hit also...does something. He sees a flash of - a room, where he's surrounded by people in rainbow armor. Hears gunfire. There's a splash of red.]

[Then it's gone. He doesn't have time to focus on what it might have been.]

[He staggers back, shaking his head to try to clear his vision, moving backwards towards the bars like discount Captain America suggested.]

Top 5, huh? A little better than my usual, but keep that between us. Don't list it publicly anywhere, trust me on that.

[He briefly scans the room, commits it to memory, mentally reviews his options, hefts up a bar.]

[Then he dives back in, wielding it well - thank you pugil stick training - but the aggression, his desperation, has purpose. The hits he lets himself take help him drive the fight back towards some of the equipment.]

[He is getting his butt kicked, and he knows he'll ultimately lose, so if he's going to get knocked around he's going to let himself get knocked around in the direction he wants the fight to go. Because then maybe he can at least lose in the most annoying way possible.]

Edited 2020-10-01 04:03 (UTC)

These people have the wrong personalities for public performance reviews.

[From here, the entire tone is changed. Armstrong's still not going all out, not for a practice run, but this isn't a test of how well Washington fights anymore.

He follows, bleeding in a bit more speed. Now his choice of boxing gloves is working against him, he can't chop or grab very well with them. Not that it matters much, it isn't slowing him down at all.

Fortunately for Wash, he doesn't seem interested in causing injuries. Like an obliging dance partner, he lets Wash take the lead, taking the shots from the bar on his forearms or the padded gloves unless the guy's been good enough that he decides to just let him have a shot to the ribs or something as a gimme.

They're not even leaving bruises. Meanwhile, Armstrong's fists practically cut the air, despite the bulky gloves, and he lands a hit hard enough to warp the pole in a moment where he feels that his opponent's not paying enough attention.

In the meantime, Armstrong's expression is one of calculation, but his gaze doesn't shift from Washington. This is still about figuring the man out, after all. It's not really enough to say that he's enjoying this, it's simply... part of the job.]

[He just...warped a metal pole. He can warp metal. Okay.]

[However, Wash has led them over to the area where several rows of punching bags hang from a rack on the ceiling. When Wash takes a hit he jams the pole point end first backwards into one of the flimsier looking punching bags, enough to poke a hole in it near the bottom.]

Oop.

[It's a very sincere sounding oop, as some sand pours onto the floor.]

[Wash ignores the sand at first, until a hard enough blow knocks him to the ground. When he comes back up, it's with a quick sharp throw of sand towards Armstrong's face.]

[A cheap move but so was Armstrong pretending he didn't basically have superpowers. Besides, if he can't feel any hits, sand will probably only hurt his eyes a little or just be an annoyance.]

[Honestly, it's almost a little too predictable. But only because sand in the eyes is something Armstrong would do, has done, when totally outclassed before scrambling to a weapon that can work or leading the target to the kill zone.

But this isn't about crushing Washington by predicting everything he does and countering it. Most people the Freelancer will be facing aren't as good with tactics as Armstrong, and the ones that are wouldn't be as pragmatic. So he lets it happen, only partially closing his eyes. Durable or not, that doesn't mean he likes the gritty feel.]

Tsst.

[He pauses, wiping at his eyes with a forearm. If it were him, he'd be following up with a crack to the family jewels or a dash to somewhere else. He could fight blind, but he doesn't want to actually injure the man. Best to clear his vision and actually watch his blows.]

[He goes for dash.]

[...to the field of rotating, steel sparring dummies, waiting for Armstrong among the columns.]

[When Armstrong finally clears his eyes and looks over, Wash gives him a little wave and a bright little:]

Hi.

Edited 2020-10-03 02:43 (UTC)

[After recovering, Armstrong casually approaches the dummies, giving them a little look.

Steel sparring dummies. Kind of like the type Wing Chun practitioners learn. Push a rod, it rotates with the same amount of force exerted on it, prompting a fast and hard block. Theoretically, this would throw the force of his own missed blows back at him. Cheeky. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he reviews his options.

Go in, try not to get hit. Pretty fair. Could leave some bruises. Start slamming dummies around... A little too brute force for his tastes, but doable. Hop on top and just walk towards his target? Definitely a possibility, but there's a risk of Washington simply pushing them over. Also, humiliating the man by showing how easily his cleverness is undermined really isn't what Armstrong's after here.

He shrugs, raises his fists in the commando stance again, and moves in. It's fair, it lets Washington save some face by facing his trap head-on rather than subverting it, and it's good practice for himself. When he opens up the next round of attacks, it's all in straight lines. If he hits a dummy, so be it, but until they're out of this mess he's abandoning the whipping jabs and chopping rights in favor of tight, focused punches. No kicks, no throws, no grabs... Not unless Wash gets very clumsy.]

[It's smart, adapting his style to be less grand and sweeping. Greater risk of hitting a bar and missing the block with bigger movements, but Wash isn't going to let him have an easy time in here.]

[He starts putting bars in motion himself, slamming them in Armstrong's way, hitting them with the weight bar for some extra oomph - which he's still holding onto, even though it's pretty crooked now. But it's at least something hard, to use for the occasion bar hit or bar block in case Armstrong hits one that swings his way.]

[Wash proves to be very situationally aware in here, ducking and dodging and blocking. Maybe he's not as fast, maybe he's not as agile, maybe he doesn't have the same reflexes, maybe he's not invulnerable -]

[Okay, he's just not...a lot of things that Armstrong is. But he is someone with a brain good at spatial awareness and very, very good memory, that can keep track of a lot of moving parts.]

Edited 2020-10-03 03:28 (UTC)

[It's a bit harder to hit the guy with all of these distractions. Armstrong can't quite say that staying in after setting all of this up is terribly smart, but he'll give Wash an allowance for not quite knowing how tough Cyberline makes a guy. You know, provided they're compatible.]

We're doing good so far. Ready to take it up a level?

[He bobs and weaves, not always avoiding the rods. They sting, might leave some bruises. He can't avoid hitting every single one of them, after all, not when everything's in motion. He's not a computer. Honestly, it's genuinely impressive that Wash can keep track of everything.

Armstrong raises a leg, stopping one of the poles with his shin. Reaching down, he grips it with one gloved hand, then clumsily grabs another from the same dummy with the other, and hurls the entire thing. If he's judged this right, it won't hit Wash, the dummies in front of him ought to take it, but it ought to be an attention getter.]

Son of a bitch!

[He straight up dives out of the way because hey reflexes, though the dummy is stopped from going where he was standing by other dummies.]

[It does indeed go as planned and it is also a wake up call.]

[Wash quickly extricates himself from the entire thing, putting dummies between them in case Amstrong throws anymore.]

[How is he supposed to spar with someone that can straight up Hulk out?]

[By cheating. Before he's out of the entire mess, just close enough to the edge he's got a clear shot, he spots someone else working out in the gym, gets an idea and yells.]

Hey! Hey, North! Help me cheat!

Edited 2020-10-03 04:18 (UTC)

[ North's been half keeping an eye on the situation, not out of any desire to join in, but because as things progress he's come to expect Wash to get trounced, so it's a kind of funny situation to be in now, being called to join in. North puts down the dumbbells he'd been using and comes to the edge of the ring, crossing his arms. ]

What seems to be the problem, gentlemen?

Idiots in Stereo

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