[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 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.