[closed] this will probably turn out to be a bad idea

[killerbeep]

Who: B and Jamie
What: PUNCHING LESSONS
When: April 21
Where: probably in a workout room at Pride HQ
Warnings: punching, and also possibility of robo-torture flashbacks

Lots of stuff has happened lately. Lots of stuff has gone wrong lately, and frankly, B could use a distraction - and he doubts he’s the only one. Besides, he’s been meaning to give Jamie some tips for a while now, and there’s no better time than the present, right? Ignoring that giving his most aggressive bandmate the capacity to more effectively pick fights might be a bad idea (and it’s not like B has any room to criticize anyone else for being aggressive, anyway).

B tosses Jamie a set of gloves and headgear; he’s generally more comfortable not using this stuff, but there’s a bigger risk of their manager finding them here, and he doesn’t much want to get in trouble for risking getting one or both of them injured. “You ready? Gonna start pretty simple.”

Comments

[mildwildchild]

Jamie manages to get the stuff on without mishap and swings his arms a bit, trying to get used to the gloves' extra weight. "Yeah, sure. Lay it on me."

[killerbeep]

B slides on a pair of focus mitts and turns to Jamie, holding up his hands.

"For now, just try 'n hit these; work on aiming and getting some force into it 'n stuff." He may not be a professional trainer, but he's pretty sure that he shouldn't be punching Jamie even a little bit right now, alright. "Try to get it in a straight line; don't want it curving if you can avoid it."

[mildwildchild]

"Right, okay." Jamie brings his arms up in front of him like he's seen in movies and what-have-you, chews his lip briefly in concentration, and starts lobbing punches. They're enthusiastic, and he's putting as much force into them as he can muster, but him being a shrimp that's not saying much. His aim is surprisingly decent, though.

"How'm I doing?" he asks after a minute, throwing another left, then a right.

[killerbeep]

Oh wow he's barely even having to brace himself here. Fortunately, B isn't rude enough to laugh at the lack of actual force.

"Not bad! Gonna need to work on getting those arms built up, though." He takes a step back for a moment, lowering the mitts to signal Jamie to stop.

"Alright, gonna try something else now - you're aiming pretty well so far, so now I want you to try 'n actually hit me. I'll block and dodge, so see if you can get a hit in anyway - don't expect to manage it right away though, alright? No need to get frustrated if you can't."

Because, let's be real - B doesn't expect that he'll be able to.

[mildwildchild]

Jamie appreciates the lack of overt mockery, bro. He lets his hands drop, too, surreptitiously checking out his biceps, which are admittedly scrawny in comparison to B's. And...pretty much anyone else's, yeah.

Despite this, he actually has the audacity to look a little concerned at B's proposal. "I'm not gonna hurt you, am I?" he asks, bringing his hands back up and peering at his bandmate over his gloves.

[killerbeep]

B gives a quiet snort of laughter. "Don't worry about it. For one thing, you'd have to hit me first."

He takes a step back, holding the mitts up a bit again. "Ready?"

[mildwildchild]

Jamie's going to take that as a challenge.

"Bet your ass," he says, and lets loose with a veritable flurry of punches. Or what he hopes looks like a veritable flurry. It's probably more like a mild spattering, since he's trying to find openings in B's defense and aim and try to put some force into each hit. He's determined, if absolutely nothing else.

robotorture flashback time?? feel free to punch him or not

[killerbeep]

Well, it's definitely something, in any case. B reacts quickly, blocking each hit with a grin, and--

Smoke clogs his sensors, and he can barely tell anymore if there's any fighting still going on - for all he knows, everyone is dead and they've already lost.

...No. They haven't lost, not yet. As long as Megatron does't get the information he's after--

Claws tear into his plating, ripping off another sheet of metal, and even if he can't really process what the deep, snarling voice shouting at him is saying anymore, he can guess, and he keeps his mouth pressed shut, choking back any sound of pain he might make.

There's a brief pause, the relief dampened by anticipation and lingering pain - then another few growled words, barely understandable, and then those metal claws close around his throat. The last thing he feels is a sharp pain and crunching of metal.

In reality, the memory only takes a moment to play through his head, but for that moment he freezes up, robotic eyes going wide. Which... might be a problem, given the current circumstances.

[mildwildchild]

Jamie notices that brief moment of distraction in the same split-second span of time that he moves to exploit it and also realizes that something is wrong. He finally lands a hit, right in the solar plexus, but even as it's connecting he's frantically wishing it hadn't, because something about the tension in B's body and the expression on his face is screaming that something's amiss.

"Shit - " Jamie jerks back like he's just punched a literal infant, gloved hands raised placatingly. "Dude, are you okay? What's wrong?"

[killerbeep]

Honestly, it's probably fortunate that the hit knocked the wind out of him right away, because otherwise Jamie might have been in danger of B striking back on sheer reflex.

Instead, B doubles over and drops to his knees, wrapping an arm around his middle and bracing his other hand against the floor. It takes him a few seconds to catch his breath, and just before he can actually speak he's pulling his mitts off and all but throwing them on the ground.

"I'm-- I'm good. I think. Just--" He takes another deep breath and finally lets himself just kinda... sit down. "'Nother... vision, memory, whatever."

[mildwildchild]

Ordinarily Jamie might have been pretty proud of himself for hitting B hard enough to wind him, but something is so obviously wrong that he just feels guilty, instead. Pulling off his own gloves, he eases cautiously to the floor near his bandmate - close enough to offer support but not so close that he's crowding him.

"You, um. You wanna talk about it?" he asks quietly.

[killerbeep]

B rests his fingers carefully against his throat, as if making sure it's still intact. He glances at Jamie, then shrugs slightly. If this was going to happen anyway, he can at least be glad it was with Jamie nearby... even if he did punch him.

"...Maybe. I dunno, it was... weird."

As if that doesn't describe basically all the memories he's picked up.

[mildwildchild]

The gesture doesn't escape Jamie's notice, and his brow creases in concern, but he doesn't address it directly for now - though it does make him wonder all the more just what the hell B was remembering this time.

"Weirder than the other ones?" He hesitates again, fumbling for what to say, and finally adds: "I mean - you seemed pretty freaked out, this time. Comparatively speaking."

[killerbeep]

"If weirder means worse."

He snorts quietly and nods, shoving his fingers through his hair. "Guess that's no surprise. Feel like I've been run over by a truck."

Or a spaceship.

...He figures he might as well make some effort to be straightforward here. "So, I... guess at some point I got tortured or something?"

Yes, that's right, B, be casual about it. That makes a lot of sense.