Palm trees just don't fight back.

[fangyandgrr]

Spike had learnt, long ago, that one of the best ways to deal with tension was a good physical fight. The problem was ever since Faith had disappeared he'd been without a regular sparring partner. He wasn't going to let that get him out of practice, so he still worked out nearly every day, aiming kicks and punches at a palm tree

Comments

[9mmshotglass]

"Only if you promise to hit like you mean it," Reese said dryly and tossed the button up white shirt next to his duster before rolling her shoulders. The navy blue ribbed wife-beater did nothing to disguise the face that she was probably in the best shape of her life at the moment and there was no way she was going to pass up a good sparring match. She was barefoot, sandals in hand and shrugged them off in the direction of her shirt.

New face.

Also in good shape. This was going to be fun.

"Dani Reese," she said casually and managed a slight smile. This felt like one of those 'what are you in for' conversations, which amused her.

[fangyandgrr]

If there was one thing Spike didn't do, it was go easy on women. He'd killed two slayers and a bloke didn't manage that, even a vamp, by underestimating women. "Oh, I'll hit like I mean it," he promised with a grin, shaking his arms to loosen the muscles.

"Spike," he offered in reply, eyeing her briefly. The first step was to size up your opponent. Spike wasn't really interested in steps. Without another word he struck, moving in low to try to catch her off-balance.

[9mmshotglass]

She saw him coming when he shifted his weight ever so slightly and moved quickly, countering by using his own motion against him. Reese kept him going in the same direction and then added the sharp stab of her bare heel against the back of his knee and aimed an unforgiving right hook at his belly as he passed.

"Nice," she said with an even smile," to meet you, Spike."

[fangyandgrr]

The heel connected, drawing a low grunt of pain from Spike as he twisted, managing to at least partly deflect her punch. "Likewise," he gasped, turning toward her again and aiming a roundhouse kick at her side, teeth gritted against the lingering ache in his leg. He was grinning, though. This was what he lived for, a good rough fight. Better than sex, sometimes, it was.

[skybot_snd]

The T-1000 had seen this man before; had passed him several times when heading to and from the IPD office. He felt somewhat more justified in wearing his sunglasses during the night, considering that this human seemed generally insistent on having a duster on in a tropical environment.

He watched the man's autonomous sparring session with some interest, noting his proficiency and assessing potential strengths and weaknesses.

The question was a direct challenge, and he slowly formed a matching smirk in return, not providing a verbal response. It wasn't necessary. He removed his sunglasses and Public Enemy t-shirt - those seemed to be the rules of the fight - placing them on the rock next to the man's items.

The T-1000 hadn't experienced a prolonged physical confrontation in this form yet. This should be interesting.

[fangyandgrr]

"You're the new bloke on the force," Spike observed with a little grin. "Right then." He cracked his knuckles and squared off across from him. "Come on." He gestured the other man forward with a flex of his fingers, even letting him make the first move.

It was funny, there was something naggingly familiar about the bloke, but Spike couldn't let himself get distracted trying to figure it out right now. He'd ponder it later.

[skybot_snd]

"That makes you the old guy." The statement was undoubtedly correct; if there was one thing he could say for certain about this man, it was that he was older than the T-1000. He hadn't encountered a human younger than himself yet. Not that he'd be able to establish ideal communication with a month-old infant, anyway. "I'm Austin," he omitted his model number from the introduction. The man looked like he was trying to figure out what he was, and that could serve as a distraction.

He would've preferred a confrontation that involved edged weaponry, but he didn't genuinely require weapons. His body was a weapon. He was a weapon.

Just a blunter one, in this state.

"This is training. We're not supposed to be trying to kill each other," he asked to make sure, since it was a fairly important conditional to take into consideration, "right

[fangyandgrr]

Spike was the old guy in more ways than one. He simply rolled his eyes at the comment and nodded. "M'Spike. And yes, let's keep the killing to a minimum. There's always so much sodding paperwork with a death," he commented with a smirk. "Plus I've grown rather fond of waking up each day."

Spike's eyes widened fractionally as the punch was thrown; he jerked out of the way, getting grazed by Austin's fist rather than gasping for air. "Try not to break anything, too," he added as he realised this bloke might fight a bit dirtier than most. That was all right, Spike could fight dirty, too. And he could do it without landing either of them in the clinic where nosy doctors would surely ask more questions than they needed to.

He circled Austin for a step or two and then aimed a punch high followed by a kick low, trying to get the man on the ground.

[new_ophelia]

"Uh, probably not," Kate says, leaning back a little out of an instinctual hesitation to be round-house kicked. "Sorry, I was just...walking. Here."

[fangyandgrr]

Spike chuckled and held his hands up, dropping out of his fighting stance immediately. "Sorry. Just looking for someone to spar with." He grabbed his duster and fished a crumbling, island-rolled cigarette from the pocket, giving it a resigned glance before lighting up.

[new_ophelia]

Kate can't help but grin a little at that. He's got this very Billy Idol thing going on. "Sorry to interrupt," she says, tugging a little on her small tank top. "I'm Kate...and I do yoga. Not so much with the punching."

[fangyandgrr]

Spike scoffed, shaking his head. "Never was in for all that 'inner peace through meditation' rubbish. I find inner peace through outer violence." He winked playfully, leaning against the tree he'd been attacking moments before. "M'Spike, by the way."

[kings_dog]

Sandor had come up on the blond man by accident, and couldn't keep in a little smirk; reminded him a little of the Kingslayer, back when he still had two hands of course. And given that comparison, how could he resist? "Sure," he said, unbuckling the belts that held his sword and knives and laying them gently over a boulder. Sizing up his opponent, he could tell the man was strong; but still, Sandor hadn't yet met an opponent that being six inches taller and two stone of muscle heavier didn't beat.

[fangyandgrr]

Spike eyed him. He was big, but that didn't mean anything. Big often meant slow, and even when it didn't there were ways to even the fight, as it were. He nodded and smiled a little. "Good." And then he dropped into a low stance, not about to let the bloke knock him over right from the start. He'd have to get a feel for how the other man fought, first.

[kings_dog]

How Sandor fought was exactly how his opponents usually expected him to-- at least at first. He moved slow or not at all, assessing, letting his opponent come in for the first hit, usually letting him get a few in before showing his speed. He trod light on the balls of his feet, watching for the blond man's first move; when it came he ducked more from instinct than forethought, but it collided anyway, with his shoulder, and with a grunt he lobbed a punch of his own toward his opponent's stomach.

[fangyandgrr]

Spike was glad he managed to pull away from most of that punch; the bloke obviously had power. He moved round him, going for a kick to the back of the knee this time.

As the fight continued, things got more interesting. The other man was faster than he looked, and Spike had to keep on his toes. Even then he still caught a fair share of hits, though he gave as well as he got. He was going to feel this tomorrow, but that was all right. The fight itself was...exhilirating. He felt alive in a way he hadn't in months.

[nevermarried]

Book raised his eyebrows, smiling crookedly. His hands were clasped in front of him, an amused look on his face. "Only if you're not too tuckered out." He had kept up with his weight training, some jogging on the beach, and he tried to keep up with his fighting, but it was difficult without a partner. This looked... promising.

[fangyandgrr]

Spike laughed, rolling his head on his neck with a satisfying crackle. "Think I can manage it." He didn't judge the bloke by his age; he hadn't lived as long as he had by underestimating his opponent, even when he'd had the obvious advantage as a demon. "Ready?" He was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager for a live, reacting opponent.

[nevermarried]

Book raised his eyebrows, dropping his long sleeved jacket to the ground. He gave his neck a roll, shaking out his arms and legs quickly, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet before dropping into a fighter's stance, his hands up and his knees bent. "Ready."

[fangyandgrr]

Spike approached cautiously, then threw caution to the wind and attacked. He was impressed when the bloke managed to keep up with him, throwing a few hits that he would still be feeling tomorrow.

After several minutes with no sign of either of them getting the upper hand, Spike took a few steps back, holding up his arms. "Draw?"