The first rule of Fight Club is...

[ilikesoap]

Characters: Herz (meinxxherz ) and Tyler (ilikesoap ) [CLOSED]
Location: The Gym!
Date: The evening after the SLIDE OF DOOOOOM
Rating: PG. Some violence but nothing too bad and a hint of foul language. Will upgrade as necessary.

Comments

[meinxxherz]

[He'd like to think he's not a gittering mess.

...but he is.

The skin around his bottom lip has gone white from biting so damn hard for so long. He can feel his hands shaking in his pockets as he heads to the gym. Willing them to stop, of course, does absolutely jack-shit. A spiteful part of him helpfully points out that it might actually be making it worse.

Still, he keeps trekking through the rain. This time he's actually carrying an umbrella.

Opening the door is a lot easier than he thought it would be, but seeing Jack--Tyler--whatever standing there, waiting for him, stops him in his tracks.

This is his Frightened Deer In The Headlights of a Mack-Truck impression.

[ilikesoap]

[At the sound of the door opening, Tyler turns to face the sound. The sight of Herz is a welcome one; he'd been contemplating whether he would have to drag the kid out of the kitchen or not. It's pleasing to see that Herz arrived on his own.

The expression on his face earns the slight upturn of Tyler's lips.]

You took your time. Come on, let's get this started.

[meinxxherz]

[There's a beat before Herz can get his...entire body to move again.]

Rrrr-r-right.

right.

[He tightens his ponytail and steps into the gym proper. Taking off his shoes before setting foot on the mats is a good stalling tactic, but it's over with quickly. Then he really does have to step up on the mats.

And fight Tyler.

And not be a little girl about this.

Ugh, why is this hard?

Herz stops just out of the older man's reach, lips curling under his teeth. Again.]

[ilikesoap]

[Tyler's taking in every little detail about Herz. He sees the reluctance, the worry, but what's really got his interest is that the kid keeps moving forward.]

Lose the shirt.

[The request is casual. Tyler drags his own shirt over his head a moment later. Tossing it off to the side, he grins.]

Calm down, will ya? I can feel your nerves from here.

[He rolls his shoulders and tilts his head from side to side.]

Before we start, we need to work out the rules. First Rule--

[Tyler laughs, shaking his head. Habit tells him the first and second rules should be the same: That you 'do not talk about Fight Club.'. This isn't Fight Club, at least not yet, so he skips to the next few on the list.]

Fights are bare knuckle. No shirt, no shoes, no weapons. If someone yells stop, goes limp, or taps out, the fight is over. Add to the list if you want, kid.

[meinxxherz]

[Herz waits until he's done explaining to strip. Once the t-shirt's over his head, it's clear he's red from nose to sternum.]

N--n-no, uhm--

Just--

Would--would you mind...staying...staying a--away from...

[He motions to the general area of his face.]

[ilikesoap]

[Tyler makes a face. What kind of fight is it if you don't take a hit to the jaw? There's a pause and then, he shrugs.]

Eh alright. Don't expect me to keep that rule forever though. If you fight someone in an unplanned match, they aren't going to be so nice about it.

[He looks thoughtful.]

No hits to the junk either.

[meinxxherz]

[He nods.]

Suh--sounds--sounds fair. Thh-thanks.

[Aaaaand awkward shift.]

Who...

W-who gets...first punch?

[ilikesoap]

[Tyler shifts his stance, dropping slightly and ready to fight.]

You. Come on, man. Try to hit me.

[meinxxherz]

[O--Okay.

Herz looks hesitant for another, probably too long moment, then forms a fist...

...a-and...

No, okay, he can so totally do this. His shoulders tense visibly as he psyches himself up. Visualize...Erol. Kage. That stupid video.

Herz swings, aiming for Tyler's shoulder.]

[ilikesoap]

[Tyler takes the hit with a grunt. Sure, he could of avoided it easily enough but . It wasn't a bad start, but Herz is too nervous, too cautious and wary. Time to take it up a notch.]

Come on Herz. Stop trying to hit me and hit me. Show me what you've got going here.

[His voice is a little rougher, slightly challenging.]

Think about the bastards who marked your face. Are you gonna crumble again or are you gonna step the fuck up?

[meinxxherz]

[He visibly tenses, taking a step back like the words were a blow all their own. His mouth opens wordlessly--He wants to protest, to agree, to acknowledge and maybe tell him to kindly shut the fuck up.

Instead he reigns back and this time aims for his gut with an unpolished uppercut.]

[ilikesoap]

[The fist connects and Tyler chokes out a sound. It's a damn good hit, exactly what he wanted and only proving his assumption that Herz is damn capable.

Winded, he curls forward, head down for the moment and lets out a slightly breathless sound of amusement.]

Perfect.

[That said, it's Tyler's turn to land a hit. Pain or no pain and not really caring whether he can breathe properly or not, Tyler lunches at Herz, intent on delivering a rather forceful hit to his rib cage.]

[meinxxherz]

[Herz stumbles back, but doesn't really know how to block it besides trying to shove the arm away. He's not fast enough--he cries out as it connects. His hands make it to Tyler's arm second after. He grips the man--left on his forearm, right on his chest--and shoves.]

[ilikesoap]

[Tyler stumbles back, damn near falling but manages to catch himself. He's still breathing heavy from the earlier strike to the stomach, but he's not about to back down.

He sidesteps, circling in a smug but predatory manner.]

Try a hit for my face.

[meinxxherz]

[Agh, he really just wants to press a hand to his chest--his ribs are burning now--but Herz keeps his fists raised. The steps he takes to compensate for Tyler's are awkward and small. So long as it keeps them facing one another, it doesn't matter much to him that he's moving like a scared bird.

When the suggestion comes, the teen's first thought is actually 'try a fake out'.

...not gonna question where that came from right now, considering it might work.

Herz winds back his left arm, moves to punch, then shifts his shoulders at the last moment. Out pops his right, going for the cheek.]

[ilikesoap]

[Tyler really isn't expecting Herz to get tricky so early in the game, so the fake out is a huge success. He's so caught up in watching the initial punch and taking in every detail of it's technique, for critique at a later moment that Tyler doesn't see the other fist moving until it's too late.

He takes that hit and he takes it hard.

Head snapping to the side with the force of the punch, Tyler makes a slightly pleased, slightly pained sound. He pauses. The man can taste the blood. It's been a while since anyone hit him quite like that.

Looking back to Herz, Tyler grins, teeth stained red from the blood in his mouth.]

Not bad at all.

[A half second later, he's launching himself at his opponent, ready to drive his shoulder into Herz' chest. Should he stumble, Tyler will follow up with a punch to the stomach region. Should Herz hold his ground, then an elbow to the side.]