batmanschmatman | 071 [voice]

[Dick sounds pretty unruffled and maybe even flippant to the casual observer, but he's actually pretty creeped. No one enjoys catching a weird person staring at them out of the corner of their eye and then just not being there when you turn to look at them.]

So, I know "the Barge is taking a turn for the creepy" is old news at this point, but... is anyone else starting to feel like someone's following them around? I know it probably just sounds paranoid, but with everything else going on, it just seems... weird. Tim, if it's you, I said I was sorry I stole your sandwich, this is taking it a bit far.

Anyway. Is anyone up for sparring? CES, gym, somewhere else, where ever. [He's bored and feeling like he's getting out of practice.]

[Warden Filter]

Literally forever ago, there was some talking about giving some self defense lessons to wardens who felt like they needed some brushing up or an intro on how to protect themselves in the event of our next Barge wide crisis situation, which is probably happening next week or something if this creepy stuff keeps up, so I'll be in the gym this afternoon and will be happy to walk you through some basic stuff.

Or, if there's anyone who just wants to spar or something, I am definitely on board for that, too.

[Private to Jim]

What's the worst thing that could happen if I got hit with a phaser on a stun setting?

[Private to Arthur]

How are your ribs doing?

[Filtered to Snape, Lupin, and Sirius]

Since we seem to be getting some of the less morally upstanding people from your world, and because I'm generally curious, I was wondering about what exactly a non witch or wizard can do to protect themselves from spells from your world besides just running like hell.

[Private to Ariadne]

Have you been up to the CES yet?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Did you get a decent look at them?

Sparring. I'm something of a martial arts enthusiast.

No. They weren't there when I actually tried. Makes a fellow feel smart.

I'm more a brawler, with some Fleet hand to hand. No intensive training. You'll mop the floor with me, but the gym floor could use a mopping.

Well, if you're up for it, I'll be down that way in a little while.

I'll be on the treadmill. Give me a tap on the shoulder.

Can do. [Log/Spam/Assume?]

[Down for any, log preferred, assume totally okay?]

[If you want to start something, I can tag it livejournal permitting. xD]

[The gym is one of Stildyne's favorite haunts-- not the most fortunate phrasing at present but moderately apt. Mostly he does laps, or something like them on the treadmill. It's where you'll see more of him than normal; he tends to long sleeves, a jacket even if it isn't his uniform jacket. In the gym, in a short-sleeve cotton shirt, whole new panoramas of scarring are visible. It isn't limited to his battered face. In fact, good luck finding much of his body that hasn't taken a beating some time or another. The pattern of frag grenade shrapnel pocks up his side, visible where it splays out onto his left arm.

Stildyne's an imposing beast, somewhere between six and a half and seven feet, somewhere between forty-five and fifty, somewhere between a hominid and an immovable object. But he doesn't move like a trained martial artist. He's what he says he is; a brawler with military training.

And as good as his word, he's on the treadmill.]

[ooc: words words words blah blah blah]

[Dick is actually relatively short - only standing at about five foot ten - so tapping him on the shoulder is requiring more of a reach than he'd like to admit. That said, he's been fighting crime since he was eight, so height differences, while maybe not something he has to compensate for all the time anymore, used to be a day to day handicap he had to account for.

So, shoulder tap. Hi Stildyne.]

[It's all right. Stildyne's last medical officer stood at an imposing five-four. Jokes to that effect will never stop being amusing to Stildyne.

He stops the machine briskly, stepping to the side of the belt.]

You're the young man who wanted to spar?

That'd be me. Dick Grayson. I don't believe we've met, formally.

[On top of being short, he's also got some dark bruises around his left eye and cheekbone, but he smiles and offers a hand to shake.]

Chief Stildyne.

[Stildyne shakes his hand firmly]

Where'd you get those love marks?

What, these? [He shrugs, grinning, and stays far away from the actual answer.] Zigged when I should have zagged. You know how it is.

And I'm not to know who was coming the other direction. Got it.

[He heads over to the mat, out of the way of trip-worthy gym equipment.]

What's your pleasure today? Basic practice or full-combat?

Combat, if you think you can handle it.

[He's kidding, and he walks over to the other side of the mat, taking a stance.]

Be gentle with me. I'm a babe in arms and delicate.

[Stildyne's stance is a little stiffer, a little learned-later-in-life. His feint-and-roundhouse, though, is a comfortable thing from his youth, faster than you'd think with a man his size, other arm up to guard his solar plexus.]

I'll be careful.

[Dick sidesteps quickly, ducking and rolling away from the roundhouse and throwing his own kick at the back of his knee.]

[Why is it always the damn legs-- Stildyne wasn't expecting that level of grace and speed, even from someone more native to the art. He jerks out of the way-- graceless but takes the hit on the side of his leg and not the joint.

He's on the higher end of the Gotham-slash-Bludhaven brawler scale but his talents lie in his ability to absorb damage and get back up.

So he squares up to Grayson again and goes in for a grapple-- if the younger man can keep dodging like he's doing, Stildyne's going to take a beating.]

[Dick's greatest skill - aside from being a natural athlete who'd been basically trained to do this since birth - was that he was fast, and he knew Stildyne's size would make a move like that would immediately give him the advantage, and he didn't quite want to end the fight that early.

He flips himself back up onto his feet and sidesteps again, bringing a fist up, aiming for his jaw.]

[Stildyne didn't step out of the way as a sane person would-- almost without thinking chose to take the blow to get his own in. His jaw ached and he blinked through the head rattle, and drove a fist towards the smaller man's chest.

It wasn't a move he could make often, but people never seemed to expect him to keep coming after a blow like that.]

[Dick wasn't exactly expecting it, so he took the hit, kind of surprised, but mostly impressed, and wondering what exactly this guy's been through that he's able to react like that. Obviously he's got size on his side, but that was pretty impressive.

He falls back a couple steps, hand on his chest and grinning slightly.]

Not bad.

Not bad is it, you young pup? Come here and let your elder get a grapple on you.

[The banter is raspy but friendly. He's outclassed but enjoying himself, slight disorientation aside. He squares up, content to let Grayson make the first move this time.]

071 [voice]

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Gymspam. Spym? Gam.

GAM

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Spam lol whoops wrong icon up there :|

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Oh the lack of action icons

lol I don't have that many either xD

Pose more Jack Palance