Out Of Coaching
I'll be on hiatus until the 25th of this month, sorry for the inconveniences! Nekomaru Nidai will return!
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@spiritedcoaching
Out Of Coaching
I'll be on hiatus until the 25th of this month, sorry for the inconveniences! Nekomaru Nidai will return!
Out Of Coaching
I'm sick since this weekend and work isn't helping much to get rid of it. I need to rest in my spare time usually and I cannot grasp enough rest to be on the computer and feel well at all for long-that means I can't write something properly-I'll take this week as rest time, so I'll be on hiatus until Friday.
I'll write my responses and starters then. Cheers.
A Career of Broken Bones // {spiritedcoaching}
So soon as Nidai had her in his arms, Mana grew tense. She would have hissed, would have pushed away if she absolutely could. But she wasn’t able to. So, powerless, she waited for him to crush her, for him to finish this.
He stood her up instead.
The sukeban’s knees wanted to give in, her eyes softening if only because she couldn’t understand what the manager was doing. He lead her - helped her walk on her own two feet - to a bleacher where they both could sit. He spoke, calm and encouraging, the both of them quite effectively torn up. Yamioko could only sit and watch him, brushing away on her busted hands the blood that ran over one of her eyes. A cool bottle was handed to her.
Hesitantly, she took it and pressed it to her jaw, where his first blow had landed. "Lucky I keep all my teeth…"
The mumble was quiet, her voice silenced a while longer before she spoke again. "The school’s got nothing to do with it. It’s a bonus for the fact that I’m good at what I do. I fought to be a sukeban, like I should have." She answered instead, a bit upset that he would think she treasured what she was because of some odd title the institution gave her.
Frankly, Mana couldn’t give much of a shit for the academy life.
She did not - however - address the rest of his words. Mostly because she didn’t know how. Being a professional fighter? An athlete? Didn’t sound like her. Though what he was implying did bother her a little.
"… You saying I wasn’t meant to be what I am?" Her inquiry was almost an accusation.
"You mean that you were meant to be a corpse in a street?" he accused, with still his firm expression in his face, taking a good sip of another of these water bottles, relaxing himself."Because when you're the biggest, most powerful thug in the streets, what's the next movement? You're inspiring someone, or just destroying persons which, unfortunatly, didn't found themselves in a proper destiny? And if you don't achieve to be the best... Again, is your destiny being a bloody corpse in a cold street? What a shame, considering your possibilities..."
He was serious about his sayings, now with his breath held and feeling the pain palpitating, but more relaxed overall, he stood up, grabbing his training back and cracking his neck."You packed more than a decent fight. You're truly... Beautiful, in battlig terms. But let me tell you... What I saw in your face when you were surrounded by my weight was fear. Fear from dying, fear from not being capable of destroy an enemy. You wanted to live... And if you want to live, it means that you want to fulfill a dream, even if that dream is buried inside of your memory.... Think about it."
A Career of Broken Bones // {spiritedcoaching}
Words sounded dulled by her panic, muffled and distant. Her focus instead was the weight pressuring air out her body, her quivering and bloodied fists worked raw, the looming figure above herself. She’d been here before; the start of her career as a sukeban, young favored underling of her souban, lively and eager and damn stupid.
She’d been pinned much like this by a man many times weaker than Nidai, many times crueler, ready to slice through her throat. At the time, there had been her souban there to save her, to crush the fucker aside, to reprimand her and warn her.
"You wanna come with me? Than you ain’t ever gonna let some fucking nitwitt knock you down like that. No one’s gonna be a friend when they fight you, Mana."
This time though, there would be no souban. Nidai’s skull crashed against hers and she saw stars. Incinerated but now dying out to naught but embers. The blow opened a gash across her forehead, blood running down along her face as she gasped breathlessly. At last, she stilled; not voluntarily but because she physically could not go further. Yamioko tried to force her movement, but the over exertion during her extensive workout and this sudden fight had drained her to nothing but shaking.
For a long while she laid quietly, ragged breaths dragged in past broken lips. Her muscles didn’t relax; rather they twitched and shivered, remnants of adrenaline which she couldn’t use for as much as she wanted to. The sukeban swallowed dryly, her throat hoarse and aching. Her dark eyes fixed sharply onto Nidai’s, her soul not wanting to surrender though her frame could not possibly go further.
"What do you know… of me? Of where I… fucking come from? Of what got me… this… goddamn… school title?" She growled in return, though her voice sounded weak and silent from how very spent she’d become.
"My potential… what I was born for… I’m the greatest Sukeban in japan. I’m the right hand of the greatest souban that lived-" She tried to push up, but found it useless. Mana would not be able to lift Nidai off herself. Not when movement alone was already so tasking.
"That’s what I was made for and it’s what I’ll fucking die for." She coughed out her last few words, her stubbornness almighty. Or perhaps, simply her foolishness. A highschool girl speaking of what she’ll die for, self-destructive and blind. What potential Nidai might see in her, she didn’t see in herself. Or, if she did, Mana intended to consume it in desperation instead of culturing it.
Thus she remained, her head rested against the massive hand that held her neck still, blood running down along her face, over one of her eyes, breathless and defeated, full with shame and stubbornness alike.
Nidai breathed hard, his body still panicking about the rush of violent hits it was forced to contain. He grabbed Mana's neck as she was rushing now with words, feeling that desperation tone, the adrenaline bursting still inside her and don't knowing how to go on. Despite all this, Nidai's cells were still protective, his soul was still of a manager. He grabbed her gently this time, letting her stomach free and holdin her in his armas, trying to stand up despite the massive damage, a bit dizzy, and helping her to stand up as well.
"Tch... You have a point here, but let me say... A scholar title doesn't define you neither. You saw it yourself in the battle against Owari. Does hte institution mark you as a sukeban? I bet you were growing in that kinda of a world but..."
He approached his training bag, sitting and putting the towel again around his neck, cleaning the drips of blood from his face. He breathed long and hard, and sitted in the bench while passing her a bottle of fresh water he was holding in his bag.
"It's your own decision to grab all the experiences you had, all your world, and form with it a new ideal. A way without fears and a hopeful future. You can do it, you have the tables to be a professional fighter, for example. A great athlete, in general. You don't need to die surrounde by blood in a street. You can even teach a child how to defend against bullies..." He smiled, fond of his own words.
A Career of Broken Bones // {spiritedcoaching}
Pinning down someone who is fighting for their survival was most surely not a good idea. Rage became panic, and like a cornered beast Mana thrashed. She shrieked and struck out with every ounce of her strength, somehow fear making her far stronger than rage had. Her greatest focus was Nidai’s stomach and chest. Her arms were freed as he’d grabbed her by the shoulders instead, and she pummeled the manager even from this spot.
She needed out she needed out she needed out RIGHT FUCKING NOW-
He was pressing down, forcing her claustrophobia, her panic, her flame wild and wild and burning. She was absolutely out of control now, her fist trembling and bleeding as she continued, desperate to get him off her, never there having been a purer reaction of fight or flight.
Mana was running on instinct and conditioned to think that Nidai would very much kill her if she did not get the fuck away from him as soon as possible.
He made all his efforts to just maintain her down, slam over her entire body and hang over her, prepared to just punch her face anytime it would be possible. However, like a stray wolf, a cornered savage beast searching for an exit, he shooted a pack of lightning punches direct to his body. Stall, maintain stall! he thought for himself, trying to pack all this stuff. But every hit like a cannon, piercing and aiming to kill... A explosion of damage and pain that made him spit a bit of blood from his mouth.
And despite that much damage, Nidai was still proud, still smiling, with these drips of blood dropping towards Mana's face. He held the willpower enough to not stand back, to show her that there was always an opponent who wouldn't want to kill, but prepared to face death itself. He finally slammed her down and sitted in her stomach, holding the damage and just grabbing his face with his enormous hand, with his other arm in a defensive stance, just in case.
"You see this? You're in fear, thinking that I'm going to kill you. But this is only a competition... An honorable battle!" he spitted a drip of blood away."You packed some good hits, huh... And what do you expect from me?To eliminate you without praising you about your efforts? Don't make me laugh..."
He grabbed her by the neck and pushed her to his face, dispatching a powerful headbutt."A manager can't destroy a potential trainee, only show her the true ways of her energy!"
A Career of Broken Bones // {spiritedcoaching}
If only Nidai knew what she was. Mana was not simply getting rid of stress and pure violence. She was stress and violence. She was a string yanked tight tight too tight and she snapped back with more force for each bit of pressure applied.
He was faster than she expected, and the sukeban barely had much time to attempt to evade. His fist struck beneath her jaw, her teeth shut tightly in result. It was a massive blow, it ached and shocked, it would swell and bruise.
It was fucking amazing.
Someone that fought back, at last someone to fight back. She grinned, wider yet, wider yet, her eyes blazing blazing so blindly, consumed with the need to fight until she was spent. "HELL YES!" She howled as she shook the blow off, feeding the pain into motivation. Yamioko spun around, aiming now to kick Nidai’s legs, to strike at his knees, her intent being to cripple and maim. She didn’t play nice. She didn’t use restraints.
And not only when hitting, but restraints on herself.
Any sane person would reel back and recover, would defend themselves and analyze the situation. Mana did no such thing. She put herself out there, a dangerous choice. Had Nidai’s blow been much stronger, she’d be fighting dizzy but fighting still. She’d lay waste either to herself or to him. Whichever came first.
That's what Nidai wanted to see. After landing the first hit over her, her eyes turned against him another time, with a flashing burn in its pupils. An intent to aggravation, to kill, to destroy and make bleed. A torrent of energy that could be impressive if tuenrd in the right way. She didn't hesitated, didn't thought about a complex technique to turn down the manager and make him kneel in front of her.
He just breathed again, with an adamant expression in his face. He raised his leg in a sort of moay thai defense movemente, her leg impacting hard, strong and damageful in his down leg. He pressed his teeth and letted the air away his lungs. Stalling. He must stall the hit, hold the pain and make retribution in the form of a brutal bash, something to make her down.
It was really painful. Even in a defense stance, that hit could break easily someone's bones. That hit would be remembered days after, while training. A mark in his flesh and a pump in his soul. But now he took profit of the proximity and her time to recovery from the execution, to just launch and push him, grabbing her by the shoulders and using hiw weight and strenght to press her down, and land heavily the enemy in the mat.
He just crossed his sight with hers, to pass the message of will, to let her know he wasn't going down easily, and watching her going down instead. He wanted to crush her over the mat, and look at her from the upper view, seeing how these flames would blaze in order to adapt to a new situation.
"Here you go!"
A Career of Broken Bones // {spiritedcoaching}
This wasn’t what she expected. To see that massive man take his place on the mat, hold his ground, his voice as thundering as his sight…
She stood startled, watching as she was given an opponent many times her own strength. She watched as he challenged her, dared her, called on her to draw from inside every last blow she possibly could wield. Mana could hardly care for the consequences. She hardly listened to the stakes at hand.
She was burning. Brightly like the star tattooed to the back of her neck.
"…Aaaaaaah!" With a defiant howl, she charged. Quite literally charged. Like an absolute wild animal, untamed and dangerous. She would fight the only way she knew to; like her life depended on it. And fighting as such, she’d not have a drop of pity. Once close enough, she lunged forth, putting all her strength and weight into a quick motion of her shoulder, ramming the sharp bone against Nidai’s arm to try and break his defenses, only then snapping her arm out to strike her fist against his - hopefully - uncovered head.
Slow down, analyze the breath, focus on the other's muscles... Wait for the moment and then... Hit. He remembered Kenichiro's words, a student under the tutoring of the Oogami clan, a man who wielded the title of the strongest battler over the world. He fought with him several times, and all of them losed to him, kneeling in front of him without any more opportunities. But with failure, with discipline, he learned. When she launched, shouting like a war cry, it remebered him of his younger years, when he used this type of activity to discharge his stress.
But battle was something more than getting rid of stress and pure violence.
While she was launching, he took a deep breath, his eyeballs fixated in every of her muscles, prepared. He was sure she predicted him to block her first attacks, as expected from a massive body of muscles like the coach was. Instead of that, he moved like a tiger... He predicted the two attacks easily, and dropping the idea of blocking these aggresive, defense-breaking blows, he fleed at his side to evade the first hit and crouched to evade the second.
"Muh..." He liberated the breath holded and passed to the offensive. Being down her, he just grabbed all the accumulated energy and left a powerful uppercut, aiming for either her stomach or her chin, whatever came sooner, at the same time he was rising and standing again.
His eyes didn't stopped vibrating in thundering, fixated in every movement of his opponent.
A Career of Broken Bones // {spiritedcoaching}
The deep voice that echoed none too far away initially startled her, the sukeban spinning around as if ready to strike Nidai instead. Recognizing the manager and his lightening sight, she eased somewhat, no longer in as offensive a posture, although surely not relaxed either. "Wouldn’t be much of a sukeban if I couldn’t carry my own on a street fight. Besides, a smart thug would know better than to mess with me."
Her tone remains a challenge, her muscles bunched and tense in the presence of the coach. Something about him set her off, though not in the sense of temper. Rather, she felt watched, measured by a man stronger than herself. And that was a sentiment she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Mana cracked her neck, first to one side, then the next, turning once more to face the punching bag. "The idea is-" A quick strike, a jab she’d have aimed to the center of the chest, just below the ribs, to force breathlessness. "-that by the time I’m done with the sucker-" A strike with her knee at what she’d make to be a hip, kicking down with force to where she’d break a kneecap. "-they won’t be standing to hit back!"
She rammed her fist with almighty force onto the bag, her skin rough and beat from the work out. At last standing still, she once more graced Nekomaru with a leer, as if seizing him up in turn. “‘Sides, when they do hit back I usually feel encouraged to return it doubled.”
Allowing the maltreated punching bag to at last rest in peace, Yamioko faced Nidai now fully. He seemed as if he’d been working out recently just as well. Though seemed like he was leaving where as she was considering booking here for a good while still. However, given his suggestion… maybe she could encourage him into something more promising.
"Funny you should say the punching bag’s not punching back, suppose you could do for a better workout partner then." She suggested, the sukeban all too aware that Nekomaru was far more built than she and would have an advantage with his raw strength and weight. That thought in and of itself coursed her with anxious adrenaline.
She’d love a go with this guy.
“What d’ya say? Or are you just gonna sit and stare?”
A proud smile appeared in the coach's face as long as the sukeban responded with that challenge. What he truly admired from a savage, beasty girl like her was that spirit. Her whole being was like an unstoppable flame, a true force of fuel that could lead her to really great results... If only she relieved in honor and competition in favor over streets and blood.
"Sit and stare? that's what I normally would do... With normal athletes, to see their talents..." He got rid of the towel and actually crunched his knuckles, cracking, prepared to leave out some proper hits. "But you know... That's for normal athletes! You have a flame that bursted at first glance.. I don't need to sit to prove that you have talent..."
He stepped into the mat, his arms going up, his legs stretching and his soul burning as he was showing a fighting stance, maintaining defensively, with his sight stabbing directly towards the sukeban."But actually, I need to taste it to know how to manage it properly. These are the rules, you win, and I'll let you in peace... Even with the opportunity of crushing me to broken bones and blood. But if I win, you promise me that you'll hear to what I need to say as a manager, dare? Go on and show me your power!"
He taunted her with a hand gesture, his teeth closed and showing a proudly smile."Nekomaru Nidai won't hesitate, with a spirit that clashes as a storm, go on and make me bleed!"
A Career of Broken Bones // {spiritedcoaching}
Any sukeban worth their metal knew that it took more than will and bad looks to gain notoriety. You needed strength. You needed to know how to give a right hook next to the side of a jaw, make whoever is unfortunate enough to face you feel as if there were bells chiming in their head. You needed to use the full of your body like a weapon, because if you didn’t you wouldn’t last. You needed to bite as hard as you bark, otherwise you’re not a pride’s lioness, you’re a pet.
These were things that she learned from her souban first and foremost. The man who taught her to live like she should; not cowering and rather fighting for every moment to be worth its damned while. And they were. Each second was sweeter, bitter but soothing, treasured, she surely felt more alive!
Now… not as much.
Thinking it’d been her fault, that the lack of activity was dragging her back, Mana sought to recover herself. She needed to stay sharp, even more so than the switchblades she fought with. So, pin pointing an instance in which the academy’s gym was borderline empty, Yamioko found her way down to it. The usual outfit would have to be discarded for the time being, as working out with a long skirt was hardly any use.
She did as she’d been taught instead. Workout top and shorts, the ink which adorned the nape of her neck clearly visible now and the words she lived by partially readable as they decorated her back. And with them a litany of marks. Old things, old lines, testaments of strength, a myriad of scars which made her look yet more threatening despite her size.
All she needed was a punching bag and a pair of gloves. Set up and ready, she began. Yamioko gave no rest to her motions, hardly minding much to practice her defenses. She kicked and punched viciously at the bag, over and over, at no particular pattern. She let the burn of the workout seep into her muscles and bones, let it feed her fire. Tire would bite at her with her uncontrollable rhythm, but she liked that best.
Between hisses and snaps of an angered voice, pushing herself along, Mana Yamioko focused on the punching bag as if it were an enemy she wanted to draw blood from. So fixated was she that the presence of another individual in the gym went unseen, her attention drawn singularly to making her strikes hit harder, faster, so that everything would sting.
It wasn't a surprise anymore to encounter the coach making proper use of the gym's installations. He made the entire place like his second room, a vital place where he went to not only eliminate the daily stress of obligations, but to continue polishing the iron will which was a niche in him, all about effort and improving. He usually spent more than a couple of hours a day giving strenght and sweat in these machines, and practicing his meditation and martial arts training schedules over the mat.
For doing this, he usually awakened early, taking profit of the first lighst of sun to just pump the engines on and give his body a good session of tension and work. When other people seemed to lurk around the gym to do their own schedules, he was probably finishing his own, taking a resting and desirable shower to just sum up and clean all those signs of effort investment.
But today, when finishing his actual schedule, exitting the changing room with a fine white wifebeater and a towel over his neck, caressing his hair to just push it up and back as always, it wasn't silent as usual. Hard hits, a punished training bag sounds, and combos which, only in sound, seemed already savage and fast. It picked up his natural curiosity, walking towards the training room grabbing his towel.
Electric thundering crisped from his sight while seeing that sukeban again, dressing in training wear, discharging all her rage over the bag. Every hit was not only fast, but hard, hard enough to break bones. It lacked consistency, technique, it was a big rush of an attack formerly did only for destroying. That explained her nature a lot, her fists and legs talking for her already. So different from the gymnast, who held the power of improvisation, but had a more waving, paced execution-Although being insanely fast, for sure.- than the sukeban.
"Yo, i didn't expected you to be one of these people who trains in gyms. It feels better than punching a thug, isn't it? But it isn't a thug... Good strenght overall, fast speed, channeling. Just need to focus your hits and prepare a guard in advance, you're letting big holes for the opponent to hit...Shame a training bag can't give them, huh?" He smiled, actually enjoying her performance.
I give myself very good advice, but I very seldom follow it. [Open RP]
Touko was not used to eating in a room with even one other person, and as for eating in the same room as several dozen people? In all honesty, the idea had always terrified her, which was why she had developed the habit of eating in the library.
But today, she was shocked to find that the school library was closed for ‘renovations.’ Touko couldn’t believe this. What kind of renovations could even be done to a library? In all honesty, the writer was willing to bet that the school board had made the whole thing up so they could receive more government funding to spend on their drug habits.
But the important thing was that, for the first time ever, Touko had little choice but to eat in front of people. The thought alone made her hands shake, but she tried to keep calm as she took the tray of food over to a table, sitting down and staring at her plate, trying desperately to ignore everyone around her when, much to her equal parts surprise and horror somebody sat down next to her.
The coach loved eating in the cafeteria. Minus the day he expends lunch time in the gardens for mediattion and relaxing, seeing the big crowd exchanging tales and experiences, laughs and smiles, while eating their boxes was... Motivational. He always maintained like an eagle, sitting far from the servings and seeing everyone while eating his lunch.
But today... It felt a little different. An aura, full of negativity, appeared near him. While ordering his lunch, he noticed that skinny girl, wearing glasses and really wise-looking, like a nervous little animal sneaking to a table to lunch fastly, alone. Nidai frowned in confusion. Wasn't she with friends? He questioned, and as a cat full of curiosity, he grabbed his lunch box and approached near her.
"Hey, is this seat free?" he pointed next to her, people seemed to look at her in a strange way, at least the near ones."Want a lunch partner? If you don't mind, I'll sit here. We can talk if you want!" He said in an optimistic, booming voice.
A star continues to shine | (idolsayakamaizono)
It was time, since his returnings, that the coach didn't stopped to see his previous trainees. Well, in fact he didn't coincided with them in the gym, believing that they met their own manners of training after literally months of coaching and constant evaluation. But meeting Sayaka maizono, the star idol, in the hallways made him wonder. How's her doing? Were her efforts leading her to better dances and performances in general? He smiled, as Sayaka was a vivid, happy girl who always wore a willified smile, always wanting to pump herself in improvement in her career.
He made a decision. As soon as the schedules ended he went to a near shop to buy a box of dango to share, and then went to the idol's room, knocking her door and offering a smile as well as the eating break in the box."Yo, Maizono-san! How are you doing? Wanna share something sweet with me?"
"It's been time since our training schedules, how are you doing?"
{ Let Fighters be Fighters | shslsukebangirl }
How he’d been so quick was beyond her, but there he soon stood. A massive man, a strength well beyond her own. For an instance, Mana froze up. She knew better than to take a bite bigger than she could chew, but something of those thundering eyes did make it so she drew to a halt. She pushed against his outspread hand, minding not that his palm rested squarely on her collarbone as she tested the conviction of his strength. It was steadfast and unwavering.
Mana shook briefly before she stopped altogether.
The biting chill returned to haunt her now that the fervent recoil of battle was gone, though the heat of her temper remained. "Deplorable? Dishonorable?!" She spat back, offended more than touched or convinced by his words. And - like the stray wolf he’d compared her to - she snarled with her teeth at show. "Improvement and school aren’t fucking synonyms."
She could have insulted him, but chose not to. This guy… was formidably strong. That compelled respect, but seemed to ring a bit deeper as well. At last, the sukeban stepped away, no longer testing Nidai’s power. Her sharp eyes focused instead on Owari. She licked over her lips, her breath still coming out in ragged exhales. Adrenaline still ran through her system. She’d finish this some other time. "Your name." She tasted her every word, focusing on the throbbing sensation around her eye. That blow was hardly Akane’s full strength and she knew it well.
Mana could hardly wait to get a chance to fight her unbridled and unobstructed.
"Gimme your name. I wanna know who I’ll come back to bust up later." And this she spoke with a grin, a challenge. A spark of life as she knew it. Hell yes she’d get back to Akane later.
Spitting again he rests of blood dripping from his mouth, Nekomaru left an intense, severe glare over these two, specially te girl who was daring for another match to the tanned one. What was she saying? Of course these words weren't synonyms, but they beared a great synergy between them... And, whatever, that wasn't the tense. He remebered his times when training with the Oogami clan, in the mountains, after a fierce match with a certain girl in a meditation trip to these mountains... A fateful encounter, full of violence and tough hits that achieved even soul. But it was different, not rusty and wild, even when taking place in the mountain. No. It wore the clean and pure soulifier of honor. Nidai putted his hands on the coat's pockets and cracked his neck, taing a long breath and recovering from the two hard attacks. He started to walk again towars the crowd, preparin to enter the instution and return to his duties.
But first, he turned his face back, stabbing that electrifying glare direct to her eyes, frowning."And you should take it how it should be. These aren't synonyms... But battle and honor! These aren't synonyms either, at least not always!"
With a more relaxed internal pace, his soul feeling as adamant as it usually was, he continued his walkings, leaving the battle terrain and waving away them."If you two want to talk or to hold your breath, search for Nekomaru Nidai..."
These Boots Were Made for Walking, Not Running
Junko raised a brow, obviously perturbed before quickly brushing that typical, run-of-the-mill emotion away. If this guy was really going to question her authority, she’d definitely have to show him his place! “Of course I work out! Now just isn’t the right time for me! Obviously someone as…” She hummed softly, searching for the right word to describe this steroid-gulping frankenstein standing in front of her, “… practiced as you would understand the importance of timing a workout! And as I said previously, I’m a model! In fact, I’m the model! If people were to see me walking around, all panting and sweaty, they could get the wrong idea!” She pouted, tapping her fingers idly. “You understand, don’t you? My reputation has to be upheld!” Blah, blah, blah, reputation this, reputation that— it’s all so boring! Junko had used that excuse already twice today! Two times! How dull! How heartbreakingly awful! … no one understands… how impossibly boring everyone else is… junko… was so… so very alone… A wave of what seemed to be genuine sadness washed over her face before quickly and naturally subsiding just as suddenly as it had come about.
"Tch! Silly goose~ I can’t just not be here! As I’m pretty sure I said before… I’m here for attendance purposes only!" The fashion girl clicked her tongue softly, her eyes bright, "I’ll repeat that again just to help you! I’m here for attendance purposes only! That means I’ve got to be here for the entire class~" Junko’s voice lilted playfully as she talked, her face more animated than it had been before, but only slightly. "Besides," she continued without taking a breath, her face becoming slightly more serious, but much more engaged, "how do you know that demoralizing everyone here wasn’t my goal?" The model held her breath and began to count to three, she got to two and then winked, breathing out a laugh, "I’m just kidding, naturally! Eh, but you are being pretty persuasive… if I just sit here looking pretty practically everyone will feel badly about themselves.” Junko tapped the bleachers absently. “I suppose that if you can find me a nice pair of shoes that I can work in I’ll be able to participate.” She leaned back and crossed her arms tightly, “Until then, I’m afraid that working just isn’t an option!”
"Muh..." Nidai turned back her, prepared to do the stepping through the changing rooms. That girl sure got the talk, and she was so inside the modeling lifestyle. Perhaps she didn't did it on purpose, but staying here doing almost nothing and just blabbering about how awesome is she that she couldn't pant or even sweat? that sounded stupid in his mind. If she would ever try it, perhaps... Perhaps she would find a motivation, and see how working out can improve oneself and cultivate not only physical, willpower too... "Then wait for me, your question is simple. You'll be running with me in no time." Said in a severe tone
He went to the reserve dressers, as he fixated in the model's proportions (He always fixates in the physical building of every person he meets, just to analyze his or her opportunities and bigger points in the physical terms) it was easy for him to find a pair of shoes the professors saved just in case someone messed themselves or just were forgiving them in home. Whatever, he just got them with the purposely good measure, turning back and coming again for her.
He throwed them in front of her, arms in jar over his hips, and a couple of sparks thundering in his sight while grinning. "So... What's the problem now? You have an excellent figure, a great potential for physical exercises. I doubt you'll sweat nor get wasted that easy, you do your modelling exercises, isn't it? Whatever..." His expression seemed to switch from severeness to something more gentle, grabbing a towel and closing a fist in determination."If the problem is panting, I'll hold you and give you some water. if the problem is sweating, I'll dry them for your body with this. If the problem is pain, I'll help your muscles and bones to feel better... That's the duty of a manager, right? Don't worry and do your best!"
Beauty and the Beast! (Big Bro Nekomaru)
Sweat. That’s the first thing you note about the colossal being at the weights section. Buckets were pouring from him, and you could swear he was leaving puddles left and right on the floor. The next thing you notice is his hair, and you are still in awe of how many people here have hair weirder than your own. Who are their hairstylists, experimental seven-year-olds? Though you shouldn’t be talking, as people have told you you resembled an orange banana-head. They say not to think of the dead in an ill manner, however, so your next train of thought travels to the giant chains around his neck.
That’s it. You have found a true, genuine SHSL Prisoner. You bet he’s killed dozens before being locked up, and was so good at it Hope’s Peak picked him up. …Well, there have been stranger students accepted to this school, you’ve learned, so this wasn’t as far-fetched a thought as you had thought it would be, but whatever!
'Will I be able to practice in here, or is your sweat gonna wash me out of the door, big bro?' You eventually answer, putting your hands on your hips and cocking your head to the side.
"... Huh?" He was confused about her question. His sweat? Yeah, for sure he was working out for almost two hours and his body was heating and throwing all these efforting liquid drops but..."The gym has plenty of space, in fact, the practicing mats are over here, actually apparted from the machines." He appointed to the zone he was referring to for her, while putting a clean and fresh towel over his neck. One of the best feelings out there!
What was this little girl gonna practice? A little spark dropped while he raised an eyebrow, fully curious. Looking at her looks, it wouldn't be something excessively tough. She was tiny and non-muscular, probably not a girl of extreme workings. Something more elegant, delicate? He smiled, crunching his fists."You practice classic dance, kiddo? Your wearings talk for yourself for sure... Mind if I look a bit how do you perform?" He asked happily.
((Sorry for these days of inactivity, this week I'll try to respond to everyone! Please like this if a debt you something or if you wanna start something with Nidai))
{ Let Fighters be Fighters | shslsukebangirl }
Akane cocked her head to the side as the girl spoke, a sharp tone of cockiness masking her anger. She could tell she was on the brim—and people who couldn’t control their emotions were usually the easiest to beat. But she knew she couldn’t underestimate her; anger was the perfect fuel for strength and willpower, and Akane knew that just as well as she did. Turning around, fists clenched tightly so that her knuckles protruded from her skin, and the surrounding digits were turning white from lack of blood circulating to them.
"I’ve got nothin’ to fear from a cub," Akane proudly said, then assumed a confident stance, readying herself.
She noticed the girl pushing forward quickly, easily closing the distance between them. Though Akane probably didn’t have as much will nor speed as this girl, it was her flexibility that was her greatest asset. Dropping down in an attempt to dodge the blow, Akane swung her legs over her head, springing onto the ground and rolling to the side. When she stood up again, her knees were scraped and slightly bruised from dragging hard onto the concrete—though she hadn’t managed to dodge the attack completely.
How the hell did she manage to hit her? Akane stared in awe for a minute, the blood warming the tips of her fingers and trickling down to the web. A trickle of blood down the side of her head is what told her. A chilly breeze blew over her open wound and made her teeth chatter. Now wasn’t the time to show weakness at all. Angered, Akane growled and swung a punch of her own, a fast and speedy jab aimed at her nose with the palm of her hand. She wasn’t ready to lose to this girl just yet, and she was looking forward to what a fight she could put up. Never before had Akane met someone who shared her ferocity for fighting.
Of course she wouldn’t lose. There was absolutely no way in hell Akane would lose to her.
The shock of flesh on flesh was exhilarating, even if the blow was only glancing. Mana could see the look which crossed Akane’s eyes, a surprised followed only by aggression. And the sukeban knew to welcome aggression. She was nowhere near as quick as Akane, her endurance high and her hits hitting hard but that did little in terms of defense.
Mana was only able to lift her arms up in time to slam against Owari’s own, sending her fist away from hitting her nose and instead slamming against Mana’s eye instead. It hurt, no shit it hurt. There would be a brilliant ring of purple to announce her fight the following day. Mana grinned; she’d wear the bruise proudly. Affording herself no time to linger in the pain of the blow, Mana pushed herself forth once more, this time giving up the steadiness of her stance in order to try and ram her knee into Akane’s hip or side.
Introductions were well and over. Time to play rough.
It was intense and violent. A true exchange of blood, pure roughness outside, with scared sights of other students seeking for that bloodthirstyness without doing anything about it. But he wasn't like that. They both didn't noticed the electric battery coming inside the battle terrain. He didn't noticed the incident in the cafeteria, didn't knowing anything about these two, just feeling a strong... So strong violent desire between two intense spirits. And people started to reunite around the place to see what was happening... Well, the manager was exitting the gym after finishing his routine, totally happy to start his other schedules, when encoutnering with this. It was brutal, an exchange of bashings that probably would end bad for one or another-And both had the potential for doing something much better with their talents, and with each other firstly-. so he instantly dropped his training bag to the ground and shooted his presence to the battle ring.
He putted his own leg between Mana's attack, feeling the pain towards it but crunching his teeth, packing the big hit trying to not hesitate about it. That kiddo hitted hard, really hard, and it was a direct one. The gymnast didn't seemed in a defensive stance, launching another punch towards her opponent, and now with him between them, he tried to block it with his arm, which with trying to bare with Mana too ended in her punch crushing one of his cheeks and making him spit a trail of blood. But he took profit of it to grab Akane by her shirt and try to push away Mana with a palming move, too. He needed them to be far from each other and stay calm.
Feeling the pain but holding it well, he grumbled, looking at them both with an angered, frowned expression, while the blue lightnings of his eyes were crashing at each other. "Can you... Can you both please stop this now?!! Aren't you seeing it? Aren't you seeing, kids?!! You're wating your time and energy!!You're hurting each other!!Violence without honor is nothing more than something DEPLORABLE!! You both should do a competitive match, a firendly battle between two athletes... Not crushing each other like stray wolfs!! Aren't you caring about yourselves?! This is a school... We're here to improve us, not to destroy us!"
He hold his sight, feeling itnense inside, his spirit rising. He hated free violence, he hated people wasting their bodies and effort in damage by damage. He believed in honorable, competitive fighting, in the spirit of martial arts... But this was only brutality.
Blazing encounters || skyacrobatics
The old man was a mysterious guy to her. He took such an interest in her that Akane could never understand why, and he had an electric aura surrounding him that made her want to challenge him. In fact, challenging him was probably all that was on her mind when she thought about him. She wasn’t quite sure what exactly she was getting herself into, but as long as she could fight him, it probably didn’t matter.
Feeling the brush of air against her skin, Akane only stopped once to turn around and see just how slow the old man was, immediately regretted it, and quickly turned back around to keep moving. Feet pounding against the hard floor as fast she could, she had a decent head start on him. However, the ground practically shook when he ran, leaving Akane wondering how long it would take for him to catch up.
Still, she marched on, and for a minute even forgot where she was going—the thrill of racing and the pumping of her blood to her legs made her light-headed, and she was so lost in the energy that she’d completely forgotten her real goal. Where was the cafeteria…?
"If that’s as fast as you can go, then I don’t think I’ll have a problem takin’ you up on that offer!" Akane called eagerly. While she disliked having a schedule, one meeting couldn’t hurt. And she especially desired to face him in a match, hand-to-hand combat, with the whole gymnasium their ring.
She threw herself around a corner, believing it to be the right way, when in fact, she’d taken a wrong turn. Directions were never her forte, and this only proved it.
He instantly knew it, that even with that firm pass and unstopping advance, the gymnast would be faster and more acrobatic than him. But he liked to taunt her, to feel the challenge within them and, of course with this, motivating her to take the max even on a simple thing like going to the cafeteria together. He didn't stopped running through the halls, other students seeing these two like if they both were crazy or something. He didn't minded it, though, another trail of thundering intent letting off his eyeballs.
"Better talk when you're crossing the finish line before me, kiddo!" He responded her confident words. She was proud of her abilities, but perhaps her orientation senses weren't that good when feeling hungry."Chek you options, that's the wrong way!"
He met a stairs block and launched himself, jumping through the hole between the stairs and, in a solid landing. Doing this, he skipped downing to the main hall by solely running. Considering her insane speed, he'll need these shortcuts for winning. It wasn't cheating, it was anlyzing your opportunities and taking profit of them. He'll go for everything, and hey, perhaps with this... She would awaken and start going with this more seriously. He grinned internally as hoped so that would be the case.
"The cafeteria is in the main floor, remeber?!! Go for it, Owariiiiiiiiiii!! It seems that you can't climb a mountain... Nor pack a race, isn't it?!!" He shouted with his booming voice, the manager instantly running through the main hall. The monitors would assault him later about how improper this all was but... Who cares at this moment? It's challenge, improvement, effort. The feeling of adrenaline even with a common thing, a dare between two students. That was one of the best feelings overall!