[Clark sees it coming, but only barely in time to jump forward himself, rolling neatly back to his feet at a safe distance, and turning the foil in his hand. He kept down low, his eyes meeting Jason's, and then he broke into the cockiest of grins.]
You're still stuck on that, huh?
[So the rules were off--it wasn't like he didn't expect them to be from the very beginning. But Lex had always broken the rules to win; he had told him once that victory was the only possible outcome, and that if that meant bending or rewriting the rules to your own standard? Well, that was just what you did.
But it still didn't involve cheating, and that was what he'd gotten stuck on in his lessons with Bruce. Where was the line? Where was the balance? Well, it was judged by chivalry, surely. Clark was not beyond throwing sand in someone's eyes, but it had to be a life and death situation before he stooped even that far. And he would always keep giving them chances.
Wasn't that why he was here? That and Jason's dream.]
Time's up.
[Clark had waited long enough for an attack, now he went on the offensive, whipping at the end of Jason's blade to try and force an opening.]
Re: [Action]under_thehoodOctober 20 2011, 17:45:31 UTC
[Jason was about to make his comeback when Clark made his own offensive. Now that's something the vigilante hasn't seen from the older man and it's honestly something of a surprise, considering Clark's usual behavior. For a second, Jason admonishes himself for feeling comfortable, almost too much so, with thinking Clark woulf never take the offensive, period, that he would always wait for Jason to come to him.
But it's different and challenging and Jason likes that. The attack pushes Jason back a step, but doesn't surrender any further space as he takes the foil in his left hand and reaches in for the front of Clark's shirt with his right.]
[ Well, that's what a budding friendship with Lex Luthor does to a person; effectively everything that Clark uses is something that he learned from Lex. Where Lex would make use of an opening, and then - having done so - lean around and guide Clark through where he'd went wrong, fixing his stance, offering hints. In truth, should Clark ever truly be without his powers, the very best way to ensure he stayed alive - or at least went down fighting - would be to give him a sword.
His stance was Lex Luthor, his attacks were Lex Luthor, his defenses were Lex Luthors. Clark fenced like a villain, and that truly was the difference at its core.
Ready for the switch of hands now he knows how Jason is fighting, Clark surrenders his footing and position and brings his blade up high to the right, as though flailing for balance as Jason pulls him in. It's a ruse--their foils meet flesh at the same moment, Clark's blade to Jason's throat, pressing in with just enough pressure to make himself known.]
Re: [Action]under_thehoodOctober 20 2011, 18:54:34 UTC
[Jason's left arm is cocked back with the foil, the blade against the side of the superhuman's neck where the spine meets the rest of the musculature. He can't help but smirk underneath the helmet at the foil against his own neck, pressing against the jugular. Well if that doesn't make the vigilante chuckle, then nothing ever will.]
You think there's any winning or losing out there? [He tangles his fingers tighter in the superhuman's supersuit, unintentionally mimicking Batman's grip in his dream. If he takes control in this moment, then there's no way he can step away from this without satisfaction.] There's living and there's dying. And I've done both.
[He takes this opportunity to attempt to give Clark a rough shove away, to take advantage of the blue kryptonite and making sure that both of them know Jason's power. The nightmare's left him grappling for hand-holds on a crumbling wall.]
[ Just for a second Clark falters at the grip. He remembers it. Why? Because his memory is crystal clear like Kryptonian rock, and every moment of that dream is carved onto it. No killing blow comes--he's sure Jason could put enough force through even the blunt foils to kill him if he wanted to.
When he's pushed back, Clark finds his feet easily. He's ready for it, and once again he takes a cocky, aggresive defence, this time with his arm raised above his head, the blade pointed down. He circles, and he says: ]
You may say that, Jason, but we both of us know that 'there's no such thing as winning or losing' is just something people say to console themselves. There's thousands of losers down there right now; people who lack the courage to speak up to their bosses, people who are beaten by their spouses. The way I see it, you've already won. You already know how little any of it matters. We all end up in the same place in the end, so we should sure as hell go down fighting.
[And stepping back. The ghost of Luthor's words:]
Are you going to fight me, or are you just going to stand there waiting for me to find an opening?
Re: [Action]under_thehoodOctober 20 2011, 21:08:55 UTC
[Jason rolls his eyes underneath the helmet at Clark's words at first, he's heard this kind of lecture before and that brief sense of respect for the other man died. This was one of the many reasons Jason had spat Clark's friendship back in the older man's face: it came with lectures about right and wrong and love and feelings. The second part, though, makes him pause briefly. If he wants a real fight, then they'd really fight.
He reaches to the back of the helmet and undoes the latch so he can pull it off, dropping it to the roof. As well, though, he tosses the foil off to the side and prepares a stance with only his fists.]
Re: [Action]under_thehoodOctober 21 2011, 14:53:44 UTC
That's because only ten of your words are important.
[Still, as Clark comes in for a hit, Jason steels himself and moves, the uppercut missing, but the forehead smashing against his jaw. The vigilante grits his teeth and forces himself to not be dazed as he brings both fists around, attempting to slam them against Clark's temples and not waste any time. Go right for the vulnerable spots, don't let your anger make you stupid.]
[ The fistsmash grazes his temple as Clark veers backward, and he feels the force of Jason's attack even though it doesn't hit him. He's much too fragile to get clocked by something like that.
Still, as he ducks back, sizing the boy up, he's aware jut how much power there is in such a small frame; he's not like Clark, clumsy, broad, tall, relying on supernatural strength. All that's visible is toned muscle, trained to perfection, repeated actions, learned methods of applying force.
Broken rib.
No, he can't. This is a friendly battle, he has no intention of actually hurting him. ]
Re: [Action]under_thehoodOctober 24 2011, 23:27:01 UTC
[Jason would argue that he already has broken ribs that are still healing, that the bruises covering his body and face that he's covered with various layers of makeup don't mean that he should be taken easy on. His fists slam into each other as they miss Clark and he takes another aggressive step forward, not at all interpreting their interaction as a friendly battle. He intends to take their fight to its logical end, with a winner or a loser despite his previous words.
His left hand focuses, pairs of fingers pressed together and curved into a V to go for the superhuman's eyes. Don't let anger make you stupid. The vigilante grits his teeth hard as he almost feels like he's going in slow motion. His whole body hurts and aches and should have exhausted itself already if not for sheer force of will.]
Re: [Action]isitablurredOctober 25 2011, 16:14:36 UTC
[ This one catches him, and Clark brings his hands up to his eyes in agony as he staggers back. No, no, no. He needs his eyes. That really was a dirty move. But which way is up? Focus Clark.
He finds the ground with his hand, and is around to face Jason in the second, battling the sudden blindness with far more grace than the other man has ever shown.
Taking care of his surroundings, he knows exactly where he is, exactly where Jason is, and he leaps forward, rolls, and comes back up with the heel of the recovered foil and the inside of his palm for about where Jason's nose ought to be. ]
Re: [Action]under_thehoodOctober 25 2011, 16:36:25 UTC
[Jason doesn't take that distinct pleasure he usually gets when gaining the upper hand in a fight. He starts to move forward toward Clark as the older man rolls forward, the momentum of both against his already battered face knock him clean out. He's been hit too many times in the past few days, taken too many shots to the head, and so his body just crumbles down to the roof without his knowing, his world black for a couple seconds.
Re: [Action]isitablurredOctober 26 2011, 23:04:55 UTC
[ Clark is leaning over him quietly when he wakes up, fingers on Jason's brow, stroking his fingers back through his hair. He's relieved when Jason wakes up, and sits quietly back. Feeling any cooler, Jason? That's because he breathed on you. Frost breath is useful. ]
Re: [Action]under_thehoodOctober 26 2011, 23:11:19 UTC
[Jason's first instinct when he feels someone's hands on his face is to reach up and try to break them, despite the dizziness that swamps him almost completely. His hand snatches brutally at empty air as Clark sits back, doing his best to try and amble up onto one elbow. The ringing in his ears is almost too familiar as he presses a hand to his forehead.]
Fine, Super. [It's a grunt, but the vigilante's definitely noticing that Clark didn't beat his face in and, maybe just maybe, seems actually concerned. Was that touch before tender? Gentle? What the hell is he supposed to do about that?]
[He struggles to get to his knees as he speaks:] We're finishing the fight. [He can't have lost. He can't.]
Re: [Action]isitablurredOctober 27 2011, 22:24:03 UTC
Did you miss the part where I'm weaker and less coordinated than you are, and I'm still not the one who got his lights knocked out of him?
[ He doesn't bother helping him up. Instead he sits back. ]
If I hit you like that again, you'll probably be waking up in a hospital bed, no matter how hard headed you are. Probably should have put you in one before, but I know how much you'd love that.
Re: [Action]under_thehoodOctober 30 2011, 01:54:44 UTC
[Jason sinks back down into a sitting position, swaying again with a dizzy spell. Dammit.]
What the hell do you mean before? [The vigilante knows that the last time he was out was after Spike and that he'd woken up wrapped up in a blanket and back in his Sector 9 apartment. Oh no, Clark didn---
You're still stuck on that, huh?
[So the rules were off--it wasn't like he didn't expect them to be from the very beginning. But Lex had always broken the rules to win; he had told him once that victory was the only possible outcome, and that if that meant bending or rewriting the rules to your own standard? Well, that was just what you did.
But it still didn't involve cheating, and that was what he'd gotten stuck on in his lessons with Bruce. Where was the line? Where was the balance? Well, it was judged by chivalry, surely. Clark was not beyond throwing sand in someone's eyes, but it had to be a life and death situation before he stooped even that far. And he would always keep giving them chances.
Wasn't that why he was here? That and Jason's dream.]
Time's up.
[Clark had waited long enough for an attack, now he went on the offensive, whipping at the end of Jason's blade to try and force an opening.]
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But it's different and challenging and Jason likes that. The attack pushes Jason back a step, but doesn't surrender any further space as he takes the foil in his left hand and reaches in for the front of Clark's shirt with his right.]
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His stance was Lex Luthor, his attacks were Lex Luthor, his defenses were Lex Luthors. Clark fenced like a villain, and that truly was the difference at its core.
Ready for the switch of hands now he knows how Jason is fighting, Clark surrenders his footing and position and brings his blade up high to the right, as though flailing for balance as Jason pulls him in. It's a ruse--their foils meet flesh at the same moment, Clark's blade to Jason's throat, pressing in with just enough pressure to make himself known.]
It's not a point if you both lose.
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You think there's any winning or losing out there? [He tangles his fingers tighter in the superhuman's supersuit, unintentionally mimicking Batman's grip in his dream. If he takes control in this moment, then there's no way he can step away from this without satisfaction.] There's living and there's dying. And I've done both.
[He takes this opportunity to attempt to give Clark a rough shove away, to take advantage of the blue kryptonite and making sure that both of them know Jason's power. The nightmare's left him grappling for hand-holds on a crumbling wall.]
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When he's pushed back, Clark finds his feet easily. He's ready for it, and once again he takes a cocky, aggresive defence, this time with his arm raised above his head, the blade pointed down. He circles, and he says: ]
You may say that, Jason, but we both of us know that 'there's no such thing as winning or losing' is just something people say to console themselves. There's thousands of losers down there right now; people who lack the courage to speak up to their bosses, people who are beaten by their spouses. The way I see it, you've already won. You already know how little any of it matters. We all end up in the same place in the end, so we should sure as hell go down fighting.
[And stepping back. The ghost of Luthor's words:]
Are you going to fight me, or are you just going to stand there waiting for me to find an opening?
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He reaches to the back of the helmet and undoes the latch so he can pull it off, dropping it to the roof. As well, though, he tosses the foil off to the side and prepares a stance with only his fists.]
Then let's fight, Super.
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[But he tosses the foil aside too--not off the building, but aside, and keeps in mind where he put it.]
But I know this is more the kind of conversation you understand.
[An uppercut, head dropping down expecting to miss, following through with his forehead aimed for Jason's jaw. A dirty move.
In his mind he's still fencing.]
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[Still, as Clark comes in for a hit, Jason steels himself and moves, the uppercut missing, but the forehead smashing against his jaw. The vigilante grits his teeth and forces himself to not be dazed as he brings both fists around, attempting to slam them against Clark's temples and not waste any time. Go right for the vulnerable spots, don't let your anger make you stupid.]
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Still, as he ducks back, sizing the boy up, he's aware jut how much power there is in such a small frame; he's not like Clark, clumsy, broad, tall, relying on supernatural strength. All that's visible is toned muscle, trained to perfection, repeated actions, learned methods of applying force.
Broken rib.
No, he can't. This is a friendly battle, he has no intention of actually hurting him. ]
I'm waiting.
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His left hand focuses, pairs of fingers pressed together and curved into a V to go for the superhuman's eyes. Don't let anger make you stupid. The vigilante grits his teeth hard as he almost feels like he's going in slow motion. His whole body hurts and aches and should have exhausted itself already if not for sheer force of will.]
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He finds the ground with his hand, and is around to face Jason in the second, battling the sudden blindness with far more grace than the other man has ever shown.
Taking care of his surroundings, he knows exactly where he is, exactly where Jason is, and he leaps forward, rolls, and comes back up with the heel of the recovered foil and the inside of his palm for about where Jason's nose ought to be. ]
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But he's not out long.]
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Are you okay?
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Fine, Super. [It's a grunt, but the vigilante's definitely noticing that Clark didn't beat his face in and, maybe just maybe, seems actually concerned. Was that touch before tender? Gentle? What the hell is he supposed to do about that?]
[He struggles to get to his knees as he speaks:] We're finishing the fight. [He can't have lost. He can't.]
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[ He doesn't bother helping him up. Instead he sits back. ]
If I hit you like that again, you'll probably be waking up in a hospital bed, no matter how hard headed you are. Probably should have put you in one before, but I know how much you'd love that.
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What the hell do you mean before? [The vigilante knows that the last time he was out was after Spike and that he'd woken up wrapped up in a blanket and back in his Sector 9 apartment. Oh no, Clark didn---
Shit.]
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