Post by Joe Stanton on Jun 18, 2018 18:42:21 GMT -5
With his phone out Joe Stanton idly sits on the apron of the boxing ring, watching footage from a wrestling promotion a long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. His green eyes are zeroed in on the big guy in the match he’s watching, and big is an understatement about the gentleman. He’s ginormous, dwarfing a clearly sizable opponent and tossing them around in the footage like they’re made of paper mache. Every time the opponent is slammed into the mat, driven into it, spiked onto it Joe’s right eye twitches a little and the left corner of his lips tug in an act to make an expression.
Why is Joe watching this ancient history?
To wait.
Also to prepare.
But mostly to wait.
Who is he waiting for, you ask?
The answer seems to gently plop her arms atop his head and rests her chin on them. She has a look on her face, damn near puzzled about the scene that's unfolding in the screen in front of them. Yes, big dude demolishing everybody. That's a given. But…
“Why the hell are you watching this for?”
Despite the person he had been waiting for literally popping out of thin air and now sitting behind him on the apron with her using his head as an arm & headrest, Stanton doesn’t flinch. Did he know she had shown up, does he just not care?
”Remembering an old friend.”
Stanton says casually without adjusting their positions, apparently fine with serving as an arm & headrest for her. The monolithic man on his phone whips his opponent into the corner and the impact of that alone almost sends the opponent up & over the top. When his feet finally touch the mat again the entire ring shakes from the fast approaching footsteps of the man he faces, all of his weight & size squashing his opponent in the corner. The look on the opponent’s face as his eyes roll into the back of his head is that of a person who is broken.
”And to prepare.”
That is said with more of an edge to it, maybe even more than Joe meant. But his eyes are now transfixed on the phone screen, watching the big man scoop up the limp noodle that is his opponent and hit a powerbomb that practically breaks the ring they’re in. A winner’s graphic flashes after the pin is counted to inform the audience he’s “Mr. Intensity”. He lifts up a large silver championship over his head triumphantly, the letters NGIW on it.
“Ah! It’s that one place!”
Recognition of those letters and of the whispers she’s heard about it make things click a bit. Anna Mathews doesn't know the full tale of it but having been in different types of promotions, she can pretty well grasp that all the words in the world wouldn't be able to do the thing justice. It cannot fully be explained. It must be experienced even when it seems...relatively normal in this instance. Looks can be very, very deceiving.
“It’s nice to look back, I guess. Reminds you where you’ve come from.”
And though it’s unsaid, there’s the undertone of ...and where you never want to be again attached to the sentence.
“Mr. Intensity is a friend?”
Surprisingly considering he has a person leaning on him, it’s only when Anna asks that question of Joe that he squirms a little in his seat. Some obvious discomfort at the question. There’s a twitch of a look that passes Joe’s face. One that could be described so eloquently as, it’s complicated.
”Yeah, Michael was.”
Michael May may have had a ring name of “Mr. Intensity” but his real was used just as much, sometimes they were even used in tandem. There’s something else though to that simple answer. Something sitting on the tip of Joe’s tongue. Something he isn’t entirely comfortable saying though there’s no turning back from it.
”He, uh, broke my back.”
There’s no non-awkward way of saying that about a friend.
”Twice.”
Or that. Especially with the cocktail of emotions seeping into his voice and his face when he says it. Anna however…
“Ouch.”
She lifts her head off of her arms and her arms off of his head, holding up her hands in innocence. Her quip makes Joe snort and grin, shaking his head and looking over his shoulder at her.
”Yeah. Ouch is right. They pretty much thought my career was dead after that. Wasn’t even sure if I was going to be able to walk again.”
Stanton says in good humor, he’s awfully cheerful about relaying the bad news he got from doctors after that whole episode to her. Maybe because he knows how that ended. He walked again. He fought again.
”Enough about my death wish though. Love is in the air and we got some training to get to.”
Turning around so that they’re facing each other proper, Stanton stashes the phone and he tosses the Time Lady a pair of boxing gloves. Sardonically poking fun at new developments in her life with a wink too no less while he rolls into the ring, slipping the padded gloves on for practice. Anna slips on the gloves, a very familiar situation to her by now before rolling into the ring proper and popping up to her feet.
“You gotta be a smartass, don’t ya?”
She smirks and gives him a playful jab to start off with. But she knows this will turn into serious business before too long. Joe smirks back at her, putting up padded gloves to block her shots.
”Sorry, it’s my default factory setting.”
He pats his hands together, gesturing for her to start taking her shots. They had progressed to the point where it’s become more vital for her to learn how to break through people’s defenses without tiring herself out.
”So, fireflies huh?”
Stanton asks with a knowing look on his face and a smirk that widens. Anna’s own smiles widens as she shakes her head.
“Blame the android. I’m not entirely sure that whole thing didn’t have a double meaning beyond being all romantic.”
A thought did cross her mind as to what that other meaning would be. She shakes it off though, trying to get her head in the game. A lot of punches are being thrown but all of them are getting blocked without so much as a thought. How does one break the defense? Punch harder? Faster? Of course, there was the nagging thought of waiting for an opening just like everything else. Maybe a fakeout! But what if he doesn't fall for that? People can only fall for that once or twice before catching on. Hitting other body parts can work. They're protecting their head so hit the body, right?
Needless to say, for a person who never planned, she thought of the possibilities a lot until she figured things out anyway. Then it becomes game on. Instinct. Second nature. Until then, it’s either keep trying stuff or…
“Okay, what the hell am I doing wrong?”
Stanton scoffs at Anna’s claim to blame the android, batting away her punches and keeping in tempo with her. She throws some good punches, some he’d wager would even be close against a less experienced opponent.
”You’re not doing it wrong.”
Joe says, pausing with a reassuring smile replacing his taunting smirk.
”Your punches are definitely getting better, your form’s improving and you know a lot of the fundamentals about the sport. It’s a matter of using all of these tools and combining them, figuring out a strategy that’s loose enough for you to adapt to whatever your opponent’s got on their mind. Every fighter has different blind spots, different methods that will work better against them.”
With an evaluating eye he looks over Anna, giving her genuine praise before he gets to the heart of the snag she’s run into . He pokes her stomach, holding the finger there.
”It’s not unheard of for body shots to win a match, but it’s definitely not something you should bet the farm on in every match either. Body shots should usually be used to soften up whoever you’re against, get them breathing hard, maybe even make it hurt to breathe at all. Less oxygen to the body, the more their arms are going to slump, the more their reflexes are going to start to drag and they’ll start slowing down. It’s in moments like that where your chances are greater for a hit that you want to use all of your speed, because of another factor.”
His finger leaves her stomach and he taps his chest with his index finger.
”Endurance. You burn through all of your energy in the first round, you’ll be a sitting duck by the third. It’s not always glamorous but sometimes the best way to beat somebody else is to outlast them. In some instances they’ll tire themselves out for you if you let them. If they’re dumb enough to expend their tank, that’s on them and that gives you an opportunity to exploit it.”
The smile gets a little more playful when he talks about endurance, in that respect Anna’s approach reminds him a lot of his own when he first started. Go hard and go fast, try to beat the opponent as soon as possible. It’s after he finishes with that talk that he takes Anna’s gloved hands into his, holding them up.
”Another factor is, which is your better hand? Every fighter has one. Sometimes it’s your writing hand, sometimes it’s not. It’s a matter of figuring out which one packs the most and using the other as mainly defense and axillary. Maximizing the damage you do with every decisive blow you go for. You get what I’m saying?”
The curious tone of the question shows Joe’s not entirely sure either which is Anna’s better hand yet. He had been more concerned with giving her a good foundation for everything to prevent her from getting murdered out there in her first fight. Though he lifts up his right to emphasize his point when he says every fighter has one.
Now the body shot thing she’s grasped and the endurance thing makes a hell of a lot more sense. The better hand part though...that contorts her face into all types of confusion. It’s not really a thought she’s ever had before. Hands are hands! They're for clutching and grabbing and hitting. The hell is this nonsense?
“Well…”
She was about to say something along the lines of “I don’t have a better hand, you twit.” But something did stop her. It’s all about the one that packs the most punch, right? It wasn’t that much stronger on the grand scale of things but there was and is a small bit of...something.
“I’m more ambidextrous than anything. But if I had to make the guess?”
Anna lifts up her left hand. Not quite as high as Joe rose his right, not quite as confident.
“There’s, like, a fraction of a bit more punching power here than in the other one. It’s not very much, but it’s something, right?”
Joe’s face scrunches up at her answer, trying to stifle the smile and laugh at it. Something equal parts funny and exciting about it, her confusion being the funny part and the exciting part’s figuring out if she’s right.
”It’s somewhere to start.”
He nods with encouragement, a confident tone because he knows they’ll figure it out one way or another. Stanton gestures for Anna to come at him, silently communicating they should resume.
”Let’s get to work.”
Anna grins and nods, ready to give it another go when something stops her. There’s a mumble that comes out of her mouth.
“Stronger hand to the back.”
Fuck only knows where she heard that from. Did Joe say it once and she just forgot? Did she read it somewhere? Was it even right? Who knows? But the stance shifts and the training begins again. It’s on Anna throwing the opening swing that the image freeze frames on to close out the piece.
Why is Joe watching this ancient history?
To wait.
Also to prepare.
But mostly to wait.
Who is he waiting for, you ask?
The answer seems to gently plop her arms atop his head and rests her chin on them. She has a look on her face, damn near puzzled about the scene that's unfolding in the screen in front of them. Yes, big dude demolishing everybody. That's a given. But…
“Why the hell are you watching this for?”
Despite the person he had been waiting for literally popping out of thin air and now sitting behind him on the apron with her using his head as an arm & headrest, Stanton doesn’t flinch. Did he know she had shown up, does he just not care?
”Remembering an old friend.”
Stanton says casually without adjusting their positions, apparently fine with serving as an arm & headrest for her. The monolithic man on his phone whips his opponent into the corner and the impact of that alone almost sends the opponent up & over the top. When his feet finally touch the mat again the entire ring shakes from the fast approaching footsteps of the man he faces, all of his weight & size squashing his opponent in the corner. The look on the opponent’s face as his eyes roll into the back of his head is that of a person who is broken.
”And to prepare.”
That is said with more of an edge to it, maybe even more than Joe meant. But his eyes are now transfixed on the phone screen, watching the big man scoop up the limp noodle that is his opponent and hit a powerbomb that practically breaks the ring they’re in. A winner’s graphic flashes after the pin is counted to inform the audience he’s “Mr. Intensity”. He lifts up a large silver championship over his head triumphantly, the letters NGIW on it.
“Ah! It’s that one place!”
Recognition of those letters and of the whispers she’s heard about it make things click a bit. Anna Mathews doesn't know the full tale of it but having been in different types of promotions, she can pretty well grasp that all the words in the world wouldn't be able to do the thing justice. It cannot fully be explained. It must be experienced even when it seems...relatively normal in this instance. Looks can be very, very deceiving.
“It’s nice to look back, I guess. Reminds you where you’ve come from.”
And though it’s unsaid, there’s the undertone of ...and where you never want to be again attached to the sentence.
“Mr. Intensity is a friend?”
Surprisingly considering he has a person leaning on him, it’s only when Anna asks that question of Joe that he squirms a little in his seat. Some obvious discomfort at the question. There’s a twitch of a look that passes Joe’s face. One that could be described so eloquently as, it’s complicated.
”Yeah, Michael was.”
Michael May may have had a ring name of “Mr. Intensity” but his real was used just as much, sometimes they were even used in tandem. There’s something else though to that simple answer. Something sitting on the tip of Joe’s tongue. Something he isn’t entirely comfortable saying though there’s no turning back from it.
”He, uh, broke my back.”
There’s no non-awkward way of saying that about a friend.
”Twice.”
Or that. Especially with the cocktail of emotions seeping into his voice and his face when he says it. Anna however…
“Ouch.”
She lifts her head off of her arms and her arms off of his head, holding up her hands in innocence. Her quip makes Joe snort and grin, shaking his head and looking over his shoulder at her.
”Yeah. Ouch is right. They pretty much thought my career was dead after that. Wasn’t even sure if I was going to be able to walk again.”
Stanton says in good humor, he’s awfully cheerful about relaying the bad news he got from doctors after that whole episode to her. Maybe because he knows how that ended. He walked again. He fought again.
”Enough about my death wish though. Love is in the air and we got some training to get to.”
Turning around so that they’re facing each other proper, Stanton stashes the phone and he tosses the Time Lady a pair of boxing gloves. Sardonically poking fun at new developments in her life with a wink too no less while he rolls into the ring, slipping the padded gloves on for practice. Anna slips on the gloves, a very familiar situation to her by now before rolling into the ring proper and popping up to her feet.
“You gotta be a smartass, don’t ya?”
She smirks and gives him a playful jab to start off with. But she knows this will turn into serious business before too long. Joe smirks back at her, putting up padded gloves to block her shots.
”Sorry, it’s my default factory setting.”
He pats his hands together, gesturing for her to start taking her shots. They had progressed to the point where it’s become more vital for her to learn how to break through people’s defenses without tiring herself out.
”So, fireflies huh?”
Stanton asks with a knowing look on his face and a smirk that widens. Anna’s own smiles widens as she shakes her head.
“Blame the android. I’m not entirely sure that whole thing didn’t have a double meaning beyond being all romantic.”
A thought did cross her mind as to what that other meaning would be. She shakes it off though, trying to get her head in the game. A lot of punches are being thrown but all of them are getting blocked without so much as a thought. How does one break the defense? Punch harder? Faster? Of course, there was the nagging thought of waiting for an opening just like everything else. Maybe a fakeout! But what if he doesn't fall for that? People can only fall for that once or twice before catching on. Hitting other body parts can work. They're protecting their head so hit the body, right?
Needless to say, for a person who never planned, she thought of the possibilities a lot until she figured things out anyway. Then it becomes game on. Instinct. Second nature. Until then, it’s either keep trying stuff or…
“Okay, what the hell am I doing wrong?”
Stanton scoffs at Anna’s claim to blame the android, batting away her punches and keeping in tempo with her. She throws some good punches, some he’d wager would even be close against a less experienced opponent.
”You’re not doing it wrong.”
Joe says, pausing with a reassuring smile replacing his taunting smirk.
”Your punches are definitely getting better, your form’s improving and you know a lot of the fundamentals about the sport. It’s a matter of using all of these tools and combining them, figuring out a strategy that’s loose enough for you to adapt to whatever your opponent’s got on their mind. Every fighter has different blind spots, different methods that will work better against them.”
With an evaluating eye he looks over Anna, giving her genuine praise before he gets to the heart of the snag she’s run into . He pokes her stomach, holding the finger there.
”It’s not unheard of for body shots to win a match, but it’s definitely not something you should bet the farm on in every match either. Body shots should usually be used to soften up whoever you’re against, get them breathing hard, maybe even make it hurt to breathe at all. Less oxygen to the body, the more their arms are going to slump, the more their reflexes are going to start to drag and they’ll start slowing down. It’s in moments like that where your chances are greater for a hit that you want to use all of your speed, because of another factor.”
His finger leaves her stomach and he taps his chest with his index finger.
”Endurance. You burn through all of your energy in the first round, you’ll be a sitting duck by the third. It’s not always glamorous but sometimes the best way to beat somebody else is to outlast them. In some instances they’ll tire themselves out for you if you let them. If they’re dumb enough to expend their tank, that’s on them and that gives you an opportunity to exploit it.”
The smile gets a little more playful when he talks about endurance, in that respect Anna’s approach reminds him a lot of his own when he first started. Go hard and go fast, try to beat the opponent as soon as possible. It’s after he finishes with that talk that he takes Anna’s gloved hands into his, holding them up.
”Another factor is, which is your better hand? Every fighter has one. Sometimes it’s your writing hand, sometimes it’s not. It’s a matter of figuring out which one packs the most and using the other as mainly defense and axillary. Maximizing the damage you do with every decisive blow you go for. You get what I’m saying?”
The curious tone of the question shows Joe’s not entirely sure either which is Anna’s better hand yet. He had been more concerned with giving her a good foundation for everything to prevent her from getting murdered out there in her first fight. Though he lifts up his right to emphasize his point when he says every fighter has one.
Now the body shot thing she’s grasped and the endurance thing makes a hell of a lot more sense. The better hand part though...that contorts her face into all types of confusion. It’s not really a thought she’s ever had before. Hands are hands! They're for clutching and grabbing and hitting. The hell is this nonsense?
“Well…”
She was about to say something along the lines of “I don’t have a better hand, you twit.” But something did stop her. It’s all about the one that packs the most punch, right? It wasn’t that much stronger on the grand scale of things but there was and is a small bit of...something.
“I’m more ambidextrous than anything. But if I had to make the guess?”
Anna lifts up her left hand. Not quite as high as Joe rose his right, not quite as confident.
“There’s, like, a fraction of a bit more punching power here than in the other one. It’s not very much, but it’s something, right?”
Joe’s face scrunches up at her answer, trying to stifle the smile and laugh at it. Something equal parts funny and exciting about it, her confusion being the funny part and the exciting part’s figuring out if she’s right.
”It’s somewhere to start.”
He nods with encouragement, a confident tone because he knows they’ll figure it out one way or another. Stanton gestures for Anna to come at him, silently communicating they should resume.
”Let’s get to work.”
Anna grins and nods, ready to give it another go when something stops her. There’s a mumble that comes out of her mouth.
“Stronger hand to the back.”
Fuck only knows where she heard that from. Did Joe say it once and she just forgot? Did she read it somewhere? Was it even right? Who knows? But the stance shifts and the training begins again. It’s on Anna throwing the opening swing that the image freeze frames on to close out the piece.
