fandomhighdorms | The Gym, Saturday morning

After taking a little bit of a beating - and, technically, a bullet - the other night, Bruce spent Friday resting up. But now that it was Saturday, it was back to work.

He spent most of his fight training time in the cave these days so he could practice some of his more complicated moves and combos in private where nobody would ask questions. But since he was still a little sore, he was keeping things simple. Just him, the punching bag, and lots of straight-up punches being thrown at said bag. He could do that in public. And, frankly, he kind of missed this punching bag. It had been a while since he'd beaten it up. Every punch that connected was like meeting up with an old friend... and punching them?

Okay, it wasn't a good analogy at all. But that was okay. The punches drowned thoughts like that out pretty effectively.

[OOC: I woke up insanely early. My choices were to continue to spam Twitter with things I read about Batman on the internet, or write something on the internet about Batman. So, open gym!]

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"Picturing anyone specific?" Kate wondered. You would think Saturday morning, the gym would be a ghost town. Not so, when there were nuts like these two around.

[[I was meaning to reply to this at like 10am and THINGS CONSPIRED. So you get her now.]]

That's why this was the best time to hit the gym. Only the crazy workout people were around. "Maybe a little," Bruce said.

After a moment he added, "Nobody in Fandom, though. Fortunately, our classmates don't usually drive me to the punching bag."

[I never did trust things. They're very suspicious.]

"Me either," she had to admit, wandering into the room proper. "People here aren't as frustrating as at home."

Possibly she was all the calmer for time away from her own world, and since her father's death. The angry issues had been carefully schooled away behind a veneer of sarcasm.

"Or they just know to avoid me."

Bruce got in one last punch before taking a step back and giving Kate a smirk. "And then there's those of us who haven't learned to avoid you yet. I think we're getting the better part of the bargain."

"Think of all the uninterrupted punchbag sessions you're missing," Kate pointed out.

"I know, it's a problem," Bruce agreed. "But I'm sure if I look deep down inside, I'll realize it's one I can deal with."

"Were you looking to use the bag, or something else?"

"I've been slacking on weights." Running and swimming, kicking and punching things was far more fun, and more cathartic, and she'd let her routine slide with sex pollen and Spring Break and the like.

"My guardian wouldn't be impressed." Or like her excuses, either. "What good am I going to be if I can't lift my own sword?"

"You could always try throwing knives," Bruce suggested. That was a joke, of course, but it probably was what he would try in a world where people actually carried swords. Of course, he liked throwing weapons in general, so that was to be expected. "But I doubt that would have the same effect."

A joke it may have been, but hit very true with her, and she quirked a grin.

"They don't," she agreed. "But I like them anyway." As ranged weaponry went, they were a favorite. She'd never got along well with guns or bows. "There's not many things aren't put off by something pointy getting hurled at them, and they always work."

"I've mostly gone with throwing stars," Bruce admitted. It was starting to dawn on him that it was actually a little strange to have someone to bond over weaponry with. It wasn't something he could actually do very often. "Same principle, but faster and with more pointy edges. I think the number of points might even scare people more."

Because of course that was part of Bruce's choice in weapons. Use something that seemed deadlier so he didn't have to actually use it in a deadly fashion.

"A little too flashy for me." Lots of points, lots of ways to go wrong. "They don't really work with my belt pockets." Her ~~canonically~~ aptly named ~~Bat~~Ratman belt was lacking in specific throwing star holders.

"Can't fault wanting to intimidate, though." It worked, in certain situations, she'd give him that.

"Wait a second," Bruce said. "Don't tell me you have a utility belt, too."

"First the throwing weapons, now this? I'm starting to feel a little unoriginal."

"I'm the one from twenty years in the future. I think if anyone's been cribbing ideas..." It would be the girl who referred to her belt as something belonging to an old comic book hero.

"I've done some survival runs. The less you have to carry, the better." Voron had been very strict on that. Age five and he'd had her leaving her one doll behind classed as 'dead weight'.

She had a good point, even if time travel did technically make things more complicated.

"I don't mind a little extra weight as long as it's useful." And probably explosive. There were a lot of uses for a good explosion.... Bruce shrugged and flashed a quick smirk. "Of course, I spend my Saturday mornings working out like a maniac, so I think I can manage a couple extra pounds."

"I've been known to carry awkward things like a big sword. I could probably pack lighter without it." But she didn't want to. It was useful, and she had a slightly unhealthy attachment to Slayer that she was completely aware of.

"I'd rather do the extra weights." However boring that might be. "I have to make up for my natural disadvantage somehow." As capable as she was, she just didn't have the strength a bigger person would. One of many reasons she'd never taken to the bludgeoning arms Greg preferred.

Bruce spent half his time in a cave doing things like making smoke pellets. Comparatively, lifting weights was kind of interesting. "If you ask me, 'able to use a really big sword' definitely makes up for it. I know I wouldn't want to pick a fight with you if you were carrying it around."

"Of course, I don't even own a sword."

"I thought it was a male thing to want the biggest weapon they could carry?" she joked.

"Don't be silly," Bruce laughed. "That's what I have cars for."

"No, honestly, I just prefer hand-to-hand. I'll train with whatever I can, but I know that the majority of the fights I'm going to find myself in will come down to who punches better." And, of course, whether or not he could avoid getting shot.

The Gym, Saturday morning

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