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!]
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!]