Come At Me, Bro--Sis--You.

[Kenni]

Characters: Tate, Cassie (Emma ), Remy (A.G. ), Open to All!
Setting: 10AM on a Friday morning. It's a half-day over at Kingston, and the evening at the school will be a bonfire out in the field, as celebration for winter midterms being over.
Previous Threads: Cleaning House
Plot Summary: A mid-morning exercise session after rather tense events of his housekeeping job in the "Cleaning House" thread, Tate needs a stress reliever, and is challenged to a practice match or two. How timely.

[Kenni]

Gold's Gym wasn't too packed this early, but it was only a short jog from here to Kingston High.

Early this morning Last night still had him running on adrenaline.

Would the cops catch on before the rival gang did? Would everything be pinned on him, or his brother?
He had to protect his family.

It was unclear how much the Family would want to protect him, if things didn't go over too well due to the anonymous 'cargo' that had caused all the confusion.

Tate held his glossy curls up in two maroon ponytail-cords, making a sort of pommel-styled faux-hawk up the middle of his head. It looked ridiculous, but his bangs were at an awkward stage along with the rest of his hair, that didn't quite merit the length for a proper man-bun or a normal ponytail. A few strands had fallen out as he'd been pummelling the punching bag before him, keeping his stocky frame squared and low before the object of his stress-release.

He was poked in the eye by some of the escaped strands; his fist phased through the bag, and it met his forehead. Wincing, he a'righted himself, not bothering to take a glance around in embarrassment; Mrs. Gold was known for opening up her facilities to supers and non-supers alike, much to her husband's chagrin.
They owned considerably adequate facilities to service stronger hits and all, but it would still be a liability if someone accidentally beat someone else's head off..Tate tried to stop thinking about dismemberment, considering recent events.

Would he be a prisoner before tasting a single marshmallow devoured in the company of his classmates tonight..?

The questions kept looming in the back of his mind. He'd rather go to jail than see those kids get offed by his 'associates.'
Kingston had its jerks and quirks, and he didn't have any friends outside of warm acquaintances from classes, but 4 months was probably the longest time he'd spent in a school, and 4 years in Jump was the longest he'd been settled in a city.

It was starting to feel like home.

He fixed his faux-hawked bangs and wiped the inside of his black tank over the bridge of his nose, his thoughts louder than his breathing as he regained his rhythm.

OoC; Emma , A.G. if still interested ^^ |

[Cuftbert]

The harrowing events of her night-time boat excursion were something of a wake-up call for Paige. She'd been tossed around like a sack of flour by the gargantuan brother of her newest "partner", Tate. It had been a harsh reminder that in spite of her powers, she was still young and relatively out of shape. It wasn't like that was her fault, though, she'd been locked up in an apartment with unlimited TV privileges! It was a miracle that she was so slim already, she supposed that her excellent metabolism was to thank for that.

Nonetheless, Paige awoke in the morning with a desire to put on some muscle for the physical trials that superheroinedom would throw at her. The nearest and most impressive looking gym she could find was her destination, and as the young girl entered the building in a fresh white tasteful blue shorts (paid for with the cash of unconscious muggers), she was hit by the smell of it all. Sweat, sweat, an ungodly amount of sweat. The sweaty smell was making her turn green, and she felt the urge to dash back out into the fresher city street. A combination of heroic willpower and not wanting to look like a lightweight kept Paige's feet planted, however, and she was soon on her way towards one of the many punching bags lined up near the back of the room.

"Okay, I think one-hundred punches with both fists per day could be a good training regime. Yeah, that works." Paige said to herself as she felt up the black bag, which was much bigger up close. With the knowledge of a hundred kung-fu movies, Paige curled her little hands into little fists and took a deep breath before letting loose on the sand-filled dummy with all of her strength and a heroic roar. That heroic roar turned into a pathetic whimper when her knuckles barely dented the bag, Paige's hand looked more dented and much redder than normal; the pain seconds later was much worse.

"Owowowowowowow!" The Papyrokinetic whimpered with her hand clutched tightly over her chest, to the amusement of the men and women training not far from her. "Why does everything have to hurt so much...?" Paige wondered incredulously, everything looked so much easier on TV. That wasn't to say that the up-and-coming heroine was discouraged, she was simply...new.

"Isn't there anything...easier?" Paige asked aloud, but much too timidly for anyone to hear her. That left the petite blonde to stand in front of her bag with her desires torn between bearing the pain and setting her personal goals a little lower.

[Kenni]

A few of Gold's patrons had begun a low murmur when the little blonde began talking to her punching bag. She wouldn't have attracted any attention at first if she hadn't stopped in her tracks like that, instead of confidently breezing through to the back as if she knew her workout regimen for the morning. The youngest Dilettevole was too comfortable in his rhythm and uncomfortable in his thoughts to get wise about the familiar face, so on he hopped when not jabbing on his own target.

Everything changed when the Fire Nation Foo Fighter attacked. And failed.
Audibly.
Painfully.
Making rookie mistakes alone was hardly peculiar when out exercising, and neither were the grunts and groans of such failure.

"Signo..rina Paige..?" he asked her, regaining his breath. It had been her audible follow-up that made the boy's latest jab falter. His punching fist flopped lamely to his side, but grey gaze stayed attentive to the way she was holding her pained hand after that screaming bout.

Suddenly, Tate jogged over to a medical case near them, also conveniently situated at the back of the gym.

After whipping some items from one shelf, he touched her hand in spots, rotated her cuff slightly, and finally sprayed something like a coolant on the injury in question.

"They say, 'no pain, no gain.' Although you have gained only pain, this time,sì?"
Gently, Tate took her hand to next begin wrapping it to minimize its motion and reduce pain. His face remained neutral.

"First time, I gather. You don't want to ever smack at it with all your might. I learned the hard way, the way you just did, long ago. These are very heavy, and can hurt you very badly."
Case in point.

Realizing he might be overstepping, the first-aider handed Paige the rest of the strip of handwrapping, and her hand, laying the injured one atop her free one, then taking his previous stance.

Some of the earlier laughing patrons had gone back to their workouts, but about 3 or 4 were keeping tabs on the teens from as far as across the gym and as close as two punching bags over.
Gold looked down her nose tremendously at the notorious activities of the Dilettevole Family, but respected the Donna's request that her youngest be watched when in potentially dangerous zones, especially when his elder siblings weren't present.

His mother had gotten Mr. Gold out of some sticky business back in the day on a favour.

Tate threw three with his right, one with his left and a one-two punch with his both fists again, keeping them quick. In the gaps between, his feet skipped, but when contact was being made they were steadfastly in-place, grounded. He looked back at her as he paused, still hopping gently in place.

"You want to keep quick jabs, bring your fists back immediately after contact..dance. It's tantalizing to just whale on it, especially when highly..emotional. But in time it'll become more reflexive..!" 

It was like he was trying to convince her that the heavy bags weren't out to get her.

It was also the most he'd spoken to a girl (that wasn't his sister, and in something of a pedagogical manner at that) for over a minute without melting into the floor, or visual obscurity.

"I don't think you have a fracture or anything, which is good. You can always lift some weights with your good hand until the shock wears off on the other, if you like."
Slowing to a halt and evening his breathing, he curled his fingers over the other arm's elbow. Only now did it occur to him to wonder, and even ask, why she was here. Without a dead body to muddy up the air between them, this could be a fresh start! He could redeem his neutral standing with this still practically perfect stranger her!

"Do you come here often?"
He grimaced; it sounded like that classic, bad pick up line. 
But at least he could put his own thoughts to rest for a while, distracted.
By now, he'd forgotten the circumstances they'd met in, and that she was just as likely to ask more questions about early that morning as she was take up kickboxing instead.

[Cuftbert]

There was something odd about meeting Tate of all people again the very next day after her bizarre adventure involving his gang. The anger and shock from that night had worn off so she wasn't tempted to sock him one in the nose, but even in spite of his delicacies she stood as still as a statue while he wrapped her "injured" hand. "I'm fine," the girl muttered as she unwound the bandages, "I fell, like, a hundred feet onto a boat and was fine afterwards, relax." Though Paige bragged, she was shocked to find herself feeling as peppy as ever following an injury that should have killed a normal person. Even now her once pained hand was feeling as good as ever; was this a result of her powers?

While Tate jabbed at the bag with a sense of astonishing accuracy, Paige wondered why he hadn't fought her with his fancy boxing when they first met. Did he really not want to hurt me, even then? Or... was it because...? The idea that her mafia acquaintance had been holding back made the heroine's frown deepen, until she was practically staring daggers at the poor boy. If there was one thing she hated, it was others taking it easy on her.

"Teach me by example, mafia boy." Paige jabbed a finger towards the ring in the center of the gym, which was finally free of boxers. "Unless," Paige leaned in a bit with a leer on her face, "you don't like hitting girls."

[Kenni]

She made a good case for being alright.

There wasn't a single bruise on her despite all the feet she'd fallen out of the sky.

At least, that he could see.

"You've certainly a peculiar propensity for hard knocks, to say the least," Tate agreed, his arm crossed over his chest and elbow propped on it so his hand covered his mouth thoughtfully.

About now, his siblings would be reviewing the morning's events. They too would realize the usefulness of a girl whose durability exceeded that of most humans,and whose body could variably fire sharp and heavy weapons.

None of the Delightful Children were aware of Paige's full set of advantages..or disadvantages, not having seen her fare in water or fly in through a cloud of paper yet, but she could prove valuable.

Before Tate could think to maybe warn her to watch her back for his family (or one day, maybe HE would be ordered to whisk her off in the dark for her abilities), she was getting all up in his face.

It sounded like..a challenge.

"..."
He leaned back as she leaned in, keeping his pose intact as there hadn't been time to change it. Only his eyes widened at the sudden development.
Slowly, he relaxed his arms, but only enough to make it back to her hands...

"..Bene. But you're right, I don't hit girls."

...and begin the wrapping all over again.

"That aren't prepared."
Smacking unarmed women was his elder siblings' thing.

And Zoe hit harder than 'Tino.

Tate let her finish her wraps he'd begun, holding up his own, then tossed her a pair of sparring gloves for additional protection.

"We do this safely, regardless of powers."
There were no 'ifs' about doing so because the look on the feisty blonde's face told Tate she definitely wasn't going to go easy either.

At the ringside were fresh mouth guards, still sealed in-package. Tate passed her a pack and opened  his, then tossed on some headgear, now resembling a warhorse of the ancient world.

There were more than a few spectators,  mildly amused by the loud girl and her more capable looking opponent.
Very few knew to mind their own business, as Tate 's Family members were signalling by shooting overprotective  lasers from their eyes at the small crowd.

The boy mouthed his guard after inviting her to first-strike at her leisure, hopping into the ring, and not fool enough to offer her a hand up into the ring after him. She clearly wanted to be treated as a fighter, not a female.

"Whenever you're ready, Signorina."

[Cuftbert]

It felt like the air had gone colder from Tate's super-gentlemanly behavior. Paige realized that Tate must have taken her challenge very seriously, like any self-respecting gangster would. I can't underestimate this guy, Paige thought while gearing up in the ring. Onlookers would have probably felt sorry for the girl who couldn't even hide her shivers, and Paige wouldn't blame them. She'd seen many boxing movies, and none of them showed the hero winning without getting the tar beat out of them first.

When passed the mouth guards and clunky looking headgear, Paige merely left them by the ring-side. "I'm durable, remember?" She smirked, before raising gloved fists that were definitely heavier than they looked. "Gangsters first," she teased, without the slightest bit of worry that she was being too cocky for her own good. She planned to duck just as he punched anyway, he couldn't be that fast.

...Right?

[Kenni]

He didn't like it, but he accepted her terms of sans-equipment. At least her hands were wrapped.

"If you say so."
And now she was taunting him!

'I'll make you eat your words..and maybe your tongue,' went his inner, temporary competitive spirit.
"Please don't bite your tongue off taunting me, Signorina," went his actual voice, with the barest hint of mirth.

Without a mouth guard, neither his ears or her tongue were safe if she kept that up.

The boy replaced his mouth-guard and resumed bouncing.
The time for talk was over.
The time for laughter had almost begun.

And it was laughable, but he'd already started to get serious on her, so he kept his face neutral after frowning down a laugh. At 'gangster', some of his associates gave each other looks, but once in the ring, all had to be settled, in the ring. At a look from one of said associates, one of the spectators rang the bell.

As soon as Tate heard it, his feet planted and twisted at the girl's frame; an alternating one-two to the left shoulder. He guarded his open side with his elbow, shifted weight to his left, then a barrage of threes, each with the first first doing double duty at her left side and stomach region. Finally, he returned to the first shoulder attack pattern again.

They were short jabs without too much power behind them for now, and he would at least try to avoid her face.
That was important to girls, right..?

And this one was cute, so it'd be double-bad of him to throw it out of whack.
Or maybe he gave his only-human training too much credit; he had yet to see how her powers would mitigate the effects of his punches, right? He'd never said power-use was off-limits, just that he'd take her on for real. 

Maybe her face was in better hands than he thought would harm it.

[Cuftbert]

He's fast. Paige had only just blocked Tate's blows to her shoulder, and the impacts sent vibrations through her gloves. Paige instinctively backed up, but Tate merely advanced with a methodical ease. He was simply too fast, and Paige couldn't predict that he'd aim right for her stomach; her eyes closed as she prepared to lose her breath. 

Then something curious happened, Paige felt her midsection stiffen just as Tate's fist came into contact with her sides and stomach. The punches hurt, but her skin was as rigid as steel; this rigidity made the gangster's fists practically bounce off. Paige witnessed this and winced; it couldn't have felt very good. My body felt tougher just as his punches connected...they didn't hurt as much as they should have, that's for sure. Tate didn't offer the girl any mercy for this distracted line of thinking, and his shoulder punches sent her stumbling back into the ropes, which weren't as soft as she thought; they dug into her back and sent shocks through her body from her impact. Just like with her stomach, Paige felt her shoulders stiffen, as if her body was toughening itself up to absorb the impact somewhat.

In spite of everything, Paige's mind raced to rationalize this development. I knew I could toughen paper, but I never thought my body could be altered like that. I wasn't even trying, it felt...it felt like instinct. The heroine leaned off of the ropes to face Tate, who'd gracefully given her a wide enough berth to catch her breath. But just like that, he was back in her face again with jabs aimed for her shoulders. Paige allowed his hits to connect, swallowed the pain, and immediately countered with wild lefts and rights to his elbow.

He'll figure out what I can do soon enough, then he'll start going for my face to actually hurt me. Paige's fists were unconsciously stiffening before they made contact with Tate, something she was hoping hurt him just a little more. He never said we couldn't use powers, Paige thought smugly, and her cocky grin began to return as the experience gap was being closed by her abilities. 

[Kenni]

Something was off from the moment his knuckles made contact, especially with her supposedly more fleshy stomach area. He hadn't noticed when his first volley of strikes had gone for her shoulders, but now it was apparent from the way his fists were glancing off of Paige. There were signs of pain and effect from his punches, however...

...the same satisfying 'biff' feeling even the toughest of bags gave off was strangely..stiff.
As solid a surface as metal, even!
It was as if his blows were being fended off by..by her very skin?

All he knew as his brows raised in surprise from the new development, was that it was a good thing he hadn't shirked his gloves atop his wraps, or his wrists would be broken, easily. At least he had caught this in time, or else he'd have been tempted to push instead of punch, resulting in damage that, as a regularly-bodied kid, would require some weeks of healing downtime from his various..activities.

Still, her counter and return blows were wild and unpractised, a novice's throws were no match for discipline.

He would use that to his advantage.
Boxing wasn't just about a powerful finishing blow in the end.

Sometimes, it was just about wearing the other person down.

And to be frank, Paige wasn't in very good shape to begin with.

The mobster mixed up his footwork the moment his opponent flew back into action from being on the ropes. She again, was still pushing, rather than punching at him, throwing viciously now at his elbow which he'd planned to block with. The moment that first blow connected he moved with the push and flipped a few degrees outwards, his back to her for a second, in order to face her back-right side, by pivoting his foot.

Steeling his stance, he tested a few two-three alternations at her back and shoulder blades, to see if her back was as well-covered as her front with those powers. Then, Tate pivoted back to face her fully, and went for her chin, the entire time keeping low, and blocking only with his gloves, until he has ascertained the hardest she could throw a punch in her enhanced state.

At least she'd stopped talking. 
Her tongue was safe!

Each blow just seemed to glance off, her body likely toughening with more precise timing as time went on.

With the nature of Paige's powers, or at least, their durability-enhancing properties becoming more sensible in the way her confident blows were hitting him with that much more severity, he would have to get fancier with said footwork to avoid getting anything uncovered sprained, or worse.

[Cuftbert]

It's redundant, but Paige is once again stricken by how utterly fast Tate is. The second Paige lands a punch, he's doing a complicated looking dodge and is out of her sight within seconds. What follows next is a shocking, painful lesson on her limits. 

The punches are surgical, and Paige can feel the brunt of every single one, like hammers pounding down on her shoulders and kidneys. H-He figured it out...before I did! M-My body, it can't p-protect itself if I don't know when I'll be attacked! It takes all of the heroine's strength to stay upright, the kidney punches in particular have her knees shaking, with her body's rigidity working to numb the pain so she didn't immediately pass out. Suddenly, she's face-to-face with Tate once more -- she feels the bottom of her jaw slam up hard, grinding her teeth together as she falls flat on her back.

Uppercut...Didn't see that coming... Paige stares up at the ceiling while stars dance across her vision. From the center of the ring she can hear a man counting up.

"One!"

Gotta get up...

"Two!"

Need to get up...

"Three!"

Need a plan...

"Four!"

Get UP!

With a groan, Paige turns over onto her back and props herself up with her gloved hands. She rises as the count goes from five to seven, her arms fortify themselves to keep from trembling. The count reaches nine as Paige leans against the ropes once more; the fight wasn't over yet.

He's better than me, and now he knows my weakness... How else can I use my powers? Ugh...stupid gloves. Paige wiggles her cramped fingers, the wrappings were far too tight for her liking. To everyone's confusion, the young girl gasps, That's it! I could manipulate the boxing tape underneath his gloves!

After her humbling at Tate's hands, Paige keeps her expression neutral rather than wear her typical smirk. Gotta predict what he'll do next... Paige throws a left hook to bait out the gangster's feint -- left or right, it doesn't matter, she's ready to turn with him. That's when she stares at the boy's gloves and brings her hand together. If the boxing tape was papery enough, it should have constricted tightly around his wrists.

There was no delusion, Paige knows that it would only surprise Tate for a second. That's when she moves in with her flailing punches, each aimed at his well-defined chest. Or...that was the plan, anyway!

[Kenni]

Regardless of how durable the girl was, an uppercut did as uppercuts do.
The way she hit the floor made him wince, then feel guilty for wincing.
She'd wanted to be treated as a fighter, so it would be in his best interest not to pity his opponent lest it backfire.

At least while they were still in the ring.

As Paige had her painful breather on the floor and gradually back up to her full height, Tate kept hopping, completely in the zone. He spat out his mouthguard a moment and evened his breathing out while he had the chance.

The other teen had become his heavy bag..a swaying heavy bag.
But sentient.
He was completely impressed she'd made it back on her feet, and wasn't sure whether to attribute this to her powers, or her own will.

The bouncing boy couldn't let his guard down.

One thing to note of his last volley was the way the punches had felt, or at least, the result of them. Frankly, even with all his protection, his hands had a dull ache to them from literally having been fisting at surface-flesh flush with properties at a metallic level, so atop glancing, the blows had felt futile in dealing any sensible damage to the papermancer. Tate couldn't feel the difference in the way her back gave when her front didn't, his senses were too distracted by the aching.

However, she had finally fallen! And maybe she'd even staggered a split-second from that back-attack.
He'd made progress.

As she let out a sound--of surprise? Realization? the toeing Tate wasn't sure--upon the just-in-time recovery, he expected some facial tell, in the form of her customary smirking to arise again, but instead she'd finally tamed that lovely leering lips and was unreadable.

A left hook came for him, so he followed the motion to stay out of its reach, rightside.
But something was wrong.
He thought his hands hurt before.

Now, it was as if his blood was being thinned..his circulation was being cut..why were his wraps digging into his skin like this!?

Paige wasted no time in taking him up on his moment of discomforted irritation, and his torso suffered a beating from the reinforced steel called her slugging. The wind was knocked out of him instantly, but Tate's lowered stance kept him upright, although he skidded backwards at every other blow she was throwing with vigour.

And there were a lot of them.

Gloves raised to keep his head and face safe, he peered through their middle at her, looking for an opening as his back met the ropes. Her beating made it hurt to breathe, but he had regained a breathing rhythm regardless.

This would be one of the only times he'd push as well, in an effort to get away.

He'd try that vanishing act again.

Pushing back on the ropes with a grunt, he bent a knee a bit lower and launched himself forward as if doing a lunge, splaying his fists to the sides for a pushing motion to his attacker. He ended the advance with a pivot to her other back-side, where one-two calculated cuffing of her lungs ensued, his free glove always returning to protect his face when not punching.

'Let's see how you like being short of breath for a while.'

[Cuftbert]

Paige's offense ended as quickly as it began, and though this offense renewed the girl's boldness, she knew she had a long way to go before victory was hers. Just as she backed Tate into the ropes, he got his second wind by pushing her off balance and darting out of sight again. Punches bodied her lungs, pushing the air out. Not good, he caught on. Paige spun to face him, but wasn't quick enough to avoid the punches away -- she was already starting to gasp and wheeze.

Rather than try to counter with punches of her own, Paige backed up and motioned towards her face of all places. Unbeknownst to the fight's onlookers, Tate's boxing tape was following her motions. If I can't hit him, maybe he can hit himself. Paige thought while trying to dodge through the gangster's barrage of punches. With luck, his fist would be directed back into his own face, giving her another opportunity to land a few gutpunches and maybe even an uppercut.

[Kenni]

He'd just gotten a start on his counter-attack, when things yet again went awry.
There was a stunned beat of silence as the onlookers through they'd seen wrong.

But it was true! The little guy had started helping the little girl, namely, by taking himself out of the sparring equation by taking himself on.
The first one caught him off-guard and nearly broke his nose with the surprise force.
The second one phased harmlessly through his face at Tate's unwillingness to feel that one again.

By the third slap to his own face (because just because Paige was directing Tate's punches at his own face by manipulating his tape, didn't mean she was aiming well-formed ones), the taken aback Dilettevole's Family friends were livid. The majority of The Family were metahumans, and foul play of power-play was highly suspected.

However, since there was no official referee for the bout, and no contingency plan or outlawing for the use of powers, they just ground their teeth in frustration, and trusted his judgement whether or not to use his own powers to even the odds, or take the brunt of the beating and think up some other strategy. There was no backup in the ring.

A few of the other gym patrons were of the same ilk of metahuman standing, so about 25% of the audience had caught wind of what was going on by the 4th hit.

Of course, Tate wasn't just taking the facial beating sitting down.

He'd been forced lower, almost to his haunches, fighting against his own limbs to quit giving him a hard time. It was taking all he could to not give in to his want to phase his limbs through his face again, and avoid the pain; there was risk of throwing out his shoulder at the vivaciousness with which Paige was throwing his own punches against him.

She was doing a good job of weakening him, that was for sure, and his strength was being sapped from just fighting himself.

POW!
Her return uppercut followed after a few lower blows that really knocked the wind out of him, and he found himself back on the ropes, then sliding onto the floor. He lifted his face, nose oozing and head light, then rested his face on his forehead instead.

The count reached 7! before Tate struggled to his knees, then finally back to his feet, and forfeited a healthy hop for pacing foot to foot, legs too weak to hop again yet, trying to pick back up his momentum.

His addled brain had thought up a final idea, although to his opponent and audience, it looked like he'd completely lost it.

Tate advanced at her, then simply turned his back to Paige, struggling to even his breathing once more.
The rest depended on how she lashed out at him next.

[Cuftbert]

Paige stared at Tate in disbelief, he was actually exposing himself to more attacks. It was so out of character for him, so very...suspicious. He's planning something, but what? She was reminded of Tate's intangibility when his fist flew right through his head as a result of her shenanigans. He must be trying to get me to punch him so he can do that again, that's it.

Tate was now in striking distance, but now Paige had a plan of her own. This'll surprise him for sure, she pivoted around him until they were face-to-face once more. Instead of a punch, the papyrokinetic pecked the gangster right on the lips. Paige smiled sweetly while discreetly lowering her fists and throwing them back up. Bet you didn't see that coming!