2019-08-28 - Full Contact Ballet

Joey is at the gym with the bay door finally fixed and finally rolled up so it's not dark as hell and feeling like a sauna in there. A lot of great fights have come out of this lil gym, some of them even sanctioned! The raw truth is if you want to get work back to Felix this is one of three stops in town you can guarantee your word will hit the ears you want. It's not run by Joey "The Collector" Kelly for no reason... well the reason is cause his uncle left it to him before moving to Baja. There's other reasons in there.

The first reason is that he wants his damn car back. That'd be nice! The second is because he's got things to pass on and/or money getting dropped off to Them-Man-Who-Will-Not-Be-Implicated. Today's work is speedbag work. Shorts, tanktop, some AC/DC playing loud and that same silverchain with a skinny gold ring around it bouncing on his chest while he works that bag up like it is delinquent in payments.

Today, one of Joey Lee Kelly's wants will be fulfilled. For today, Itzhak is bringing his car back. A favor for a favor. The rumble of the engine swells as he pulls up and throws it into park. He gets out, tall lanky guy, comes in on his kinda sauntering stride. It's fucking loud in here and he rubs one ear, then raises his sunglasses to set them in his hair. "'Ey! Kelly!" From a good several yards away, though he knows it won't be enough distance if Kelly takes a mind to rearrange his nose for him.

Byron doesn't need Kelly's gym. The Bayside Apartments had a state-of-the-art gym of their own in each of their three apartment buildings. Yet, here he is today with his Rolls Royce parked outside, an odd sight for Elm Street. Or it would be odd, if he didn't often visit Harbor Mist Pawn a little further down the road. It looks like Thorne means business and not of the suit and tie variety. He's dressed in work out gear -- a gray Under Armor form-fitting mid-sleeved shirt covers his torso to go with a pair of knee-length workout shorts and athletic shoes. In his right hand he carries a duffel bag, most likely filled with a change of clothes among other items. His hair lacks the pomade or gel that he often uses to style it.

Not expecting to be the only person to occupy the gym, his attention is pulled to Itzhak when the man greets the guy who he's about to go see.

"Kelly." He calls out as well now, nodding in Joey's direction. See, while he might have a gym back at home, this gym comes with the expertise of a boxer. "I was hoping you'd have time today for a lesson." A pause, before he adds when he draws nearer, "And thanks for the other night." He knows the one! "It was pretty messed up, but things are alright now." Despite the news that some folks were hospitalized shortly after that event... Nevertheless, Joey Kelly got paid for his services.

Yeah fuck world peace, Joey wants his damn car! Eyebrow arches and bots taped hands stop the bag so it doesn't biff him in the head. Grabbing his water bottle he drinks and walks. "Shiiiiiit, son, you got my wheels washed to?" He holds his hands up for the keys. "I'ma happy man, Itzhak. I want you to know that." Looking to Byron he greets putting a fist out there to bump, "Sup, B?" Nodding to Itzhak he gives him the shorthand, "Just had him detail my car for me. He's cool." Seriously you need fine detail done?" Like evidence removal ahem, "He's a good guy for it." Looking Thorne over with a comfortable familiarity he grins with subdued amusement, "Pay me to slap you around a bit to make you better? Shit it's like I won the lottery."

First though he takes a look at the Charger that's ow 'cop clean'. "Baller." Looking to Byron he warns, "If I touch the hair no cryin man. You got somethin comin up or tired of the city chewin into your bougie-nuveaux ass? E'erythin okay over there?" Sure Byron drives a Rolls but this isn't gonna stop him from being treated like the same guy he grew up doing dumb shit with.

Itzhak tosses over the keys. "Yeah, well, I was bored." He washed it. He totally washed it. Not that Joey doesn't care of his car, but there's a difference between taking care of a car and allowing a bored and angry perfectionist to go over it with a microscope. He looks at Byron, hanging back, hands at his sides loose. "I don't fuckin' do it for free. Who's ya?" The way Joey talks, though, he knows Byron's a 'co-worker'.

When attention is now drawn back to this newly returned Charger of Joey's, Byron looks on with some interest. He knows a few shops in town, often those that know how to treat overly expensive cars with care. This is Gray Harbor, that Wraith's been in various shops over the past few months as it is. He idly returns the fist bump, eyes still on the car. Hearing about this evidence removal shtick, Thorne's dark eyes look to Itzhak. "Interesting." He then makes his own introduction, "Byron Thorne. Kelly and I go way back."

Finding a bench to set his duffel bag down upon, Byron can't help but laugh, "Sure, touch my hair all you want. Run your grubby fingers through these locks. It's the face that's off limits." But this is boxing, so he knows better than that. "Lilith's fine, if that's what you're asking. If you're inquiring about the Bayside? We stopped at two murders, so that's a good sign isn't it?" He's not really making light of these tragic events, but he is stating facts.

Joeyleaves his eyes on the car but there's a small frown mentioning Lilith which also gets a small nod. Okay. Good. Very good. He opens the car. It's not been so damn nice since he bought it. Nope. Not then. It was second hand from a debt badly owed. "Worry about ya man." Which might not be the expected thing to hear but true none the less. Both eyebrows arch adding with interest, "more interesting when I had a couple plain clothes come out and ask me why I was up on that end. " Less happy about that one but it is what it is.

With the invite to touch the hair all he wants he snickers, "Well, don't let me." Lookginto Itzhak he asks curiously, "No one tried to shake your shit did they?" And with that he goes over to grab the tape to help his buddy there get prepped and glove up. and says only, "Rings off. Let's get to it."

Itzhak upnods warily at Byron. He's not a hometown boy. That New York Yiddish accent could scrape the seasoning off a cast-iron pan. Wrong coast. Wrong place. Wrong time. "Sup." He slides Joey a sidelong look, scowling. "De la Vega came by for a chat." Watching Joey and Byron get prepped, his expression shifts to something yearning, that he's trying to spackle over with the scowl. "God he's a prick. The hottest ass in town though, I gotta say."

While Joey inspects every single minute detail of his worked on car, Byron's phone chimes. Reaching into his short's pocket, he starts to tap out a few things, sending a quick back and forth correspondence with the message sender. "Worried about me? You're the one who need the worrying over." A smile tugs at his lips when he says this, eyes lifting to regard Joey from where Thorne is lingering near the bench. "That's kinda why I don't invite you to my house party's often. I'm pretty sure you don't need the GHPD pulling you over after you'd have a few to drink." Nevermind that his apartments is also Felix's Safehouse, but that's another story altogether.

Once the text messaging is over, hopefully, because Thorne looks like the type who would interrupt a boxing training session to respond to a text or email, he slips the phone into his duffel bag. That same curiosity he'd held for Itzhak returns now as he's trying to place the guy. He recognized the accent, somewhat. "New to town then?" Monaghan doesn't keep everyone informed of everyone else! He then rubs at his hands before allowing Joey to tape them up, "Was it de la Vega? He's gotta be the busiest cop in town."

Joey snorts, "You don't think the boys in blue don't pull me over just because anyways? Pretty certain they don't need a reason." REEEEEEEEEET! God you have to love the sound of tape being unrolled at high speed. It's the true indicator that things are about to get very fun or very, very bad. "Spread em." He pauses, "The fingers, B." He smirks given the topic and then goes about doing a right legit tape job there to keep all of his digits in place so nothing gets damages. Remember kiddies: safety first when beating someone into paste.

"Nah, some lady. McQuade. Mean as hell too. I swear if she wasn't a cop I'd have to try to figure out if I ever dated her and that's why she's so pissed at me." Looking to Itzhak he assures, "It was fine. No warrant. Short conversation."

Itzhak grunts. He loiters closer, eyes on the tape getting wound around Byron's knuckles. (His own knuckles have letters in blue ink. 'STAY DOWN'.) "None here neither. Just felt like roughin' up some loser ex-con to make his dick hard. I wouldn't mind, except I got the impression he don't cuddle afterwards."

His hazel eyes flick up to Byron's face, only a second, before he's looking away again. "Couple few months. I'm an exotic import."

This isn't Byron's first time in the ring since his return to Gray Harbor, so he knows the drill. Fingers are spread out. There's a bit of excitement about this whole thing, so rather than the far too composed Thorne in the business suit, this Byron Thorne is probably something more familiar to those who knew him as a child or teenager, slightly more animated in the way that he's either swaying from one foot to the other or bouncing on his heels. He's getting himself pumped up.

Perhaps out of curiosity, though more than likely he's actually looking for something, Byron's eyes flicker over to Itzhak again. For those with a strong light, it doesn't take long at all for others who glimmer to take notice of it, but that's enough for him; just this brief glance. "How are you find the town? A far cry from New York City, I figure." He's guessing the accent is from there. He's had clients from New York.

Joey is about as expressive as a high speed brick through a church window. He grew up angry and mean, and like the historic preservation society prefers: he stayed that way. Well... maybe not the historical society, but people allergic to change. Still, there are a few that get the side that isn't the strictly business end of one, Joseph L. Kelly, and that is the few pals he's had since young and turbulent times. It's the only way it can explain the platinum Prince and the pauper of pugilism finding common ground.

That said he's not going to go easy on him when he gloves up but he's also got no intent to kill em, or 'win'. "Let's focus on keepin the gloves up without hidin behind em.. Like someone's takin keys to your car but you got places t'go after. Protect your head, but get the reach."

Wouldn't you know, it's a criminal gathering in Kelly's Gym. Go figure? But unlike a couple of the boys in the room, Lilith stays prettily squeaky clean by appearances and general personality reputation and probably doesn't even really think of herself as a criminal, really. Rationally, yes, but she was raised with no real supervision and questionable trailer park and parental morals, so really, the fact that she's moving federal crime rate levels of real and fake cash to clean and repairing/altering stolen goods to piece off gradually after collecting... eh. It's just one of those things that she has to do. And she's good at it.

To her, the concepts of what makes criminals are a gray area. Reality checks? Naw. Not til she's thrown under a bus literally or figuratively for Felix in the event things go badly with turn. That's definitely not today. Today, Lilith has come in a bit bright eyed and bushy-tailed instead of dry casual or reserved surly, dressed in tight yoga capris and a hip-tied tanktop that reads "Beat It" in vintage purple and pink on top of a cropped sports bra. She's in the process of putting her hair up when running shoes carry her with turn from the sidewalk, over toward the open gym bay. She's still got some residual eyemakeup on from the day at work, though, when she pulls sunglasses off to drop in her bag.

Jusssst in time to see Byron finish getting taped up. It makes the brunette's lips twitch with grin and she casts a hand up for salute at Joey and Itzhak while slipping over to drop her bag of stuff off by the wall out of the way. But eventually she pipes up, "... I think I might cry if someone gets his pretty nose. Fair warning."

"I dunno. Better'n a sharp stick in the eye I guess." Itzhak finds something convenient to prop up, hooking his thumbs in his pockets. "Pretty great if you wanna fight a lot of ghosts and crazy shit? You oughta watch him and not me." He jerks his chin at Joey. "I know I'm better lookin' but he's the one gonna ring ya bell."

He glances over sharply as Lilith comes in; jumpy, apparently. And he doesn't relax when he sees who it is either. "Hey. Sup. Never got ya name."

Once the gloves are on, as Byron tends to, he loosens up his limbs, keeping his body in motion before stretching out his neck in both directions. He's heard and see all that he needs to from Itzhak, the guy wasn't blind to the darkness surrounding Gray Harbor. "Oh, Joey and I have been doing this for years now." Though not as often as Byron should be to keep up good form if not strength. He does it often enough to have his own mouth guard though, which he slips in before securing his helmet. Look, he's the one being trained!

With all of his gear on, that's when he notices Lilith's arrival, flashing her grin with that piece in his mouth. He obviously doesn't call out to her, refocusing all of his attention to Joey, "Let's do this."

Joey is not called Felix's Pitbull for no fucking reason. A brief glance to Lilth comes with a wink that passes for a 'sup, girly' and a wry grin. His focus is locked onto Thorne, however promptly. "Lilith, Because I like you... a'ight." The jabs come quick to test and get the warmup going. The cocky smirk suggests it might only because Lilith asked nicely. "TEll you what, doll, anyone fucks up his face that ain't me? Just text me an address with a pic. I'll turn it into a fad." This are his people and honestly? No he doesn't get called up to Bay St., but Byron still comes 'home' where his other people are and the pair and they ain't turned out. To Itzhak he comments, "Well so long as B ain't turned into a damn dinette set? We good." Dinette set!? "Really exhausted on shit gettin possessed and chasin it hafway... across... the goddamn neighborhood."

"Hey. I'm Lilith. Own and run the Pawn Shop down the road along Elm." Lilith tells Itzhak after casting a grin over Joey's way and wandering up to watch with a slow motion and paced, high-roundhouse at the bag to kick it with something that looks more like a ballet move than a karate move, in truth. Then she calls out to Joey while straightening with drop of hand on her hips, eyeing his circling form with Byron, "It's probably oddly safer for you to get a hold of someone that smashes his face in not-you style-- I'd just set them on fucking fire. And that kind of... smells. I think. Why do I feel like you'd know that, Joeybear?" Yes, he gets Joeybear, mostly because his bear hugs are not to be fucked with.

After clicking her tongue at herself once she's given Byron's ass and general body a good moment of distracted study while he's in manly violent form instead of a suit, she shifts to eyeing the other standing and watching company aside. To Itzhak she wonders, "Don't think I got your name either the couple of circumstances we've had run ins. August's... friend? Boyfriend?"

Itzhak blinks, irritated by literally everything Joey said. "Of course your fuckin' dinette set is haunted. Why wouldn't it be. Sure. Why the hell not. The dinette set." He looks at Lilith, eyebrows going way up, looks back at Joey, and mouths 'Joey. Bear.' at him.

Ain't that cute.

"Okay, to be honest, I ain't really his boyfriend," he says to Lilith, with a troublesome smirk. "I'm just protecting his virtue. He's a delicate flower, yannow? Don't understand the ways of the world. 'm Itzhak. We got the weirdest names here."

Despite his busy schedule and his more often than not professional style of dress, Byron works out on the daily. He runs in the mornings and has a regular workout regimen that includes the weights in the Bayside Apartments' fancier gyms. So he's in good shape. It's his form and reaction time that he's trying to better hone now and Joey's been getting into fights for as long as he can remember, so who better to enlighten him on how to punch people in the face.

"Believe me, if someone ever breaks my nose, I'll be right there to take care of business myself." There's just a hint of laughter when he says this, but one can't deny the serious cast to be found within his eyes. He means it. He's on defense currently, swerving his body while pulling an arm back to block whenever Joey makes a move, finding the right time to step in with his own strike. Joey's quicker than he is. Fast like lightning, so it often takes Byron a while to find that opening.

Joey is not above repartee with Lilith while thundering some skills B-ward. "It's been a really ..weird time... in my life okay?" Speaking of the smell of burning hair and people running around on fire. Look, Grey Harbor is a weird place to grow up. Of course it's a damn dinette set, Itzhak. The confusion is evident in the phrase, "Some days I do not get you, It-" And there's the duck to the punch and the one two something into Byron's ribs. Not mean, just to tag em and say allo. Does he have to wink? Not. at. all. "So we find out who's gone fuckin rogue on this town or the cops an shit still holding out so they can sit back and profile alla us?"

That wry grin creeps back promising Byron, "I know you still you in that suit. Don't mean... we won't wanna say... sup." They can go around for days jabbing and jawin. Really. Some people did better after high school, and some people lost their damn family at 16 and dropped out. The fact of life is things happen but some things? Some old good things stick. "Rosenkrants, you meet Lil before?" Not like he's got to be informed. This amuses him Wait that guy at the bar askin me not t'turn you into paste? That guy?"

"Fine, fine, be a man." Lilith tells Byron with a good-natured scoff of joking and absolutely no promises not to set someone or something on fire while he's busy being a man. She watches Joey move in on the guy with a bit of a bracing wince and a grin alike after his banter out, like she's not actually ready to see Byron take a cuff or well-aimed hit, despite looking like she's more than ready to see the action. It's kind of a conflicting thing to want to watch someone punch and be punched in one part of your body while the other part is poking at you to instinctively want to cradle and bubble wrap his head, maybe. It's an odd kind of expression there for a beat, but more or less she stays keenly focused and slightly amused through her interest and anticipation.

"Ah-hah. Well, fear not, that man knows I'm a messy pain in the ass and looks at me accordingly. Smart. But he sent me a nice hospital care package when I was in, so when I saw him in the bar, naturally, I was appreciative. Hadn't really gotten a chance to tell him thanks. Not used to that kind of stuff, so much. I need to pick up some things from him actually now that I've got some life back on track, speaking of." Then she pauses and tilts her head with mild concern toward Itzhak, "He mended up okay from...?" She squints over toward Byron and lowers her voice with the last bit. No need to talk about worms when the sentence doesn't maybe need a finish for reference.

Itzhak studies both Byron and Joey closely, pretending he's not that interested, which convinces literally nobody. He's rocking forward and back, fingers tapping out a beat on his jeans. "Goddamn, Kelly's good," he mutters, mostly to himself, watching Joey dip in and out of Byron's range. He knew by reputation--who didn't?--but to see it in action is something else. Joey's question about the rogue element, though, makes him shift his weight uncomfortably. "Sure, they profile us because they don't wanna profile ghosts." He rubs the bridge of that magnificent schnozz. "Met Lil around a couple a times but I was too busy being a dick to properly introduce myself. Yeah," he says to Lilith, "he's good, buddy of ours patched 'im up." He almost smiles. "His problem is he loves messy pains in the ass. He hired de Santos on purpose. He lets me hang around. Guy don't know what's good for him." But it's affectionate shit talking, in the Yiddish tradition.

They could probably do this all day. On second thought, it would tire them out and Joey does have the upperhand where skill and experience is concerned. That knowledge only makes Byron even more persistent with showing the coach just how much better he's gotten-- Still, doesn't mean that the coach doesn't have a few more moves to instruct him on. Especially that strike to his ribcage, a tap that brings out a sharp exhale before he sucks that air back in. That swinging arm drops to belatedly protect that section of course, his own footwork never ceasing as he continues to deflect any other hit that Kelly may send his way.

"Look, I wear a suit and I still get interrogated myself." Byron says, that mouthpiece still in place. "That's not ideal. What is ideal is forming a working-relationship with a cop." As he speaks, he continues to block, before throwing out a few throw-away jabs to test the waters, "As for the rogue? I'm told it's being handled. I can only wait and hope that it's dealt with soon enough." Some of the conversation going off on the sidelines is taken in, but his own little chit-chat with Joey along with the shift and sway of this physical dance keeps him completely focused.

Joey might be a good dancer. The world may never know, but the truth is with training someone else and dancing the idea is never to show off, it's to help them show up what they thought they could do. It's agressive but he's a good coach. Tomorrow Byron will be an edge sharper...and his ribs'll hate em. It's a good damn day to be alive. IT's something weird and small he can give back to his few people. It's not a bad damn life and? He gets to pummel his friends for the sport of it knowing. As for the Rogue? "Certain people kidna gettin antsy that it's causein a lotta noses all sorts of up in their shit. Juuuuuust sayin."

"We're at least not boring when we're messy. And mm, to be fair, there was a whole like... raptor the second time. Or whatever the fuck that Jurassic Park hold-on-to-your-butt moment was there. Too frickin' close to me is what it was, I'm glad I didn't panic and explode into flames like a phoenix with self-defense mode coming up." Lilith tells Itzhak with a draw of air in and correction on being a dick. Then she exhales a huff, because she clearly didn't find that whole moment a fun nature experience. Because, you know, what the fucking fuck? Most things generally try to kill her, raptor facts and existing aside.

The brunette's head tilts as Byron gets tapped and she rocks back on her feet while standing with hands still at absent rest on the curve of her hips while assessing the training fight and traded reaches during footwork. Something about his footwork makes her smile, suddenly, though, and she hollers, "These are the moments when all your secret dance recital training sessions with me pay off in life, you know! You're welcome!"

Then she wonders of Itzhak standing nearby because it's easier than yelling at two guys trying to concentrate in the ring, "You box around too, huh? Have the tough and wiry scrapper feel about you, and those trick the big guys, so far as I've seen."

"Utahraptor," Itzhak mutters, eyes on the sparring men. "A bird ancestor, believe it or not. Pigeons and that thing came from the same kinda critter. She was beautiful, wasn't she? Me 'n my buddy wanna go back out there and look for her. Maybe get her back over the border if she's stuck." He's rambling, and realizes it suddenly and clears his throat. "Don't box formally or nothin', not like Kelly. Just the school of hard knocks, you know what I mean?" He looks over at her, curious, then down at himself, like he's not sure if he's who she's talking about. Then, out of nowhere, "You dance?" he asks her.

Thorne may be a competitive sort, but he's not taking the rib jab personally. It just means that he failed to protect himself and that the tap would hurt a lot more if it it weren't Joey who hit him. Ducking and swerving out of the way of the coach's next strike, Byron tries to use the same tactic against him, aiming a punch immediately after Kelly catches air, but the coach is swift enough to shift just enough that Thorne's strike only nips at his mid-section. There's this slightly exasperated, yet cheek grin that he now flashes to his opponent with a shake of the head. However, the news that Joey relays has him considering, "He's mentioned it?" The He, is obviously Felix."

From somewhere off to the side, he can Lilith's taunting words. No one needs to know about those dance lessons. That was a LONG time ago. It does cause a brief distraction, head briefly turning in her direction, when he mutters, "She promises not to say anything and easily breaks that promise." Again.. that promise was made a long time ago.

"Wrong state, Roz. Apples...not potatoes." And there's Joey getting Idaho and Utah backwards. Dodge, duck dip, dive, and dodge, B! "Not... by name... but he's aware people are dying and persons of interest who need to remain uninteresting are taking some interest by just being listed in Ruiz's lil black book. So no. The man shouldn't have to fuckin mention it. It's why... he has people... that think of these things around him so he don't have to get involved, man." BIFF! Stop thinking about Lilith! Think about keeping all your pieces where she enjoys them being.

"Mhm. Not professionally or anything, I just had those poor kid charity lessons from a semi-relative in the next town over for... oh, seven or eight years to set the form for ballet and jazz and tap and hip hop. Then I lived in Miami for a while, so nightclubs and salsa dancing were a hobby. I just like to do it as something to fall into, mostly. Never really get too many chances here." Lilith explains to Itzhak, making a little 'oops' noise after Byron downright turns his head to look at her general direction after that yell. But it's true, he has footwork, it was supposed to... mostly be a compliment. And a little taunt, maybe, but she thinks it's cute when she can get a blush out of him. Not that it's the time to do that, but she tends to run moments on blunt and forward Lilith time here and there.

Plus, don't certain promises have expiration dates if they're adorable? Maybe. Then she pipes in with a helpful tidbit for everyone's sake if they really want to box, also to defend and change subjects on Byron's behalf, perhaps, because this is facts, "Boxers tend to take ballet training. It's really about flexibility, foot awareness, and core balance at the heart of everything."

Itzhak is keeping one ear on the conversation between Byron and Joey, you fuckin' bet he is. The big man's name doesn't need to be mentioned. They're all aware of who's being discussed and the reasons why. ...Then he rolls his eyes at Joey. "That's not--Jesus, the reason they call him the Brick is more obvious with every passing moment." He laughs suddenly as Joey pops Byron one to make him pay attention. "Yer distracted!" he calls to him. "I'll help." And he offers his hand to Lilith. "I just learned salsa. C'mon, let's show these boys some moves."

Ruiz. That name again. He knows the man well enough. "Are you on a first name basis with Captain de la Vega?" Then again, Byron is rather the business formal sort, only using first names if it's someone he's well acquainted with. However, yes, Lilith is a distraction. A terrible one at that. And just as he turned to look on her, he feels Joey's glove tapping him against his headpiece. It's a good thing he's wearing the proper gear, but it does take him aback. However, he knew he fucked up the moment his took his eyes off of his opponent. "Shit.." He quietly murmurs.

Hearing something more that Winslow tosses out, this bit of wisdom, a smile forms on his lips, flashing that mouthguard at Joey, "Is it true? You had your fare share of ballet listens?" He obviously knows the answer to that, he's just making light of the situation. Jeez, it doesn't help with the new guy tells him what he already knows too!

Oh, Lilith is more than ready to be occupied before Byron actually catches one in the guts because he took the time to startle and maybe glare back at her. That offer from Itzhak to salsa dance has her hopping to with reach of hand and step back pose, arm arced up and wrist hooked down with presentation form for dramatics. Her chin comes up with toss of bound hair before she uses her free hand to tug it down and shake it. Then she lets the man yank her straight into form for initial sashay quickstep, her hips and feet at constant quick back and forth of motion, ready to spin and turn to and fro at a moment's notice with cue to feed into yanks and leads.

Music, pfft. All salsa music kind of sounds the same, face it, and once you've danced salsa and gotten it down, it really doesn't so much matter what you hear, that's more about feel and ambiance all told. Really, the dance is about a lot of footwork, hips, and spins and once that rhythm is set with feed-off between partners, it's kind of like jumping rope. You only really need to hear a drum beat in the head. In theory, anyway. And Lilith can't help but rise up to be on her balls of feet as if she's in heels while doing it, adding to the pop of her hips and backside between spins. Is this supposed to be less distracting? She's sure going full ham over here with the excitement of someone in Gray Harbor knowing how to salsa dance, impromptu at that! But it's admittedly a little less heat and flavor flair without the music while testing each other out.

"Did you learn from a club or a dance professional? Most of mine leans Puerto Rican because that's mostly who I learned from, but there's some Cuban flair when I..." Lilith abruptly grins and steps back to undulate her midsection and knock a hand through her hair, other hand still latched to Itzhak and his moves before she goes and gets fancy with one of his tugs not to spin, but to hop and knock her legs in hook-cross around one side of his hip with posed dance perch, looping with her other arm at neck and shoulders before dropping into stand and spin three times fast.

No big deal, just spontaneous salsa over here, keep boxing boys.

Joey out of nowhere confirms, "Nah I heard that. It's true. Also me doin ballet in boxers? Hell of a thing." Looking to Byron he shakes his head, "Fuck naw man. They and I only have one item of business: bad business man. " He is not looking at Lilith but he might just buy her fucking lunch if she keeps proving his goddamn point about blocking out distractions. He shrugs but doesn't say 'no' exactly. "When I was a kid... and if you can believe it more pissed off I used t'practice with my cousin. She took the classes. Couldn't afford both of us goin."

Itzhak wasn't expecting quite so enthusiastic a partner in Lilith, and she catches him off guard with her vigor. "Whoa, okay!" he says, grinning suddenly in a way that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. Salsaing to AC/DC, no problem! The beat in his head is always there.

He hardly has to do anything except let her use him as a prop to pull off startlingly spectacular moves, and he's laughing. His whole face changes when he laughs. It's a total accident but he's having fun. He's a surprisingly good dancer himself, but this is clearly Lilith's show! No problem, she can have the spotlight. When she hooks her leg over his hip he blushes vermillion. "Nah I just learned it from a pretty girl on the street." And he can't remember if Julia is Puerto Rican or Cuban, and he grew up in New York, it's taking your life into your hands to guess. So he doesn't guess, and twirls Lilith like they planned it.

He gives Joey a hell of an eyebrows-up look when he mentions doing ballet in boxers. From the quick once-over Itz lets himself give him, he believes him. Hell of a sight.

Byron's not even paying attention to the dancing. He learned his lesson once today, he's not going to make the same mistake again. He'll come in with a few quick jabs, but Joey's told him before to not act so reckless and try to conserve his energy, so he's trying to be mindful of that. Only taking the lunge when he believes he has that opening, those light jabs are a mere distraction. "I'm pretty sure I saw you doing ballet in your boxers once." Alright, it probably wasn't ballet, it was probably dancing. But boys will be boys and some boys have no shame! "de la Vega is an interesting one." He'll come out to say, "Questioned me twice already. Gotta hand it to him, he's really hustling for that promotion."

"Oh yeah? I'm intrigued, but it's honestly how I started to learn, just being tossed between random man-dancers on a sidewalk outside a club in turns while waiting to get in. Latin men honestly do not care where they are when it's time for bailar. I could do without the unbuttoned chest shirts, though. Did she doooooo... this?" Lilith is like a fucking shark once she sees a bit of a blush on Itzhak, and maybe it's a little bit of revenge for the dickish introduction, or maybe it's just her way of humor, or both. But all that quick step motion and turns from the brunette turns in with close straddle on the man's long and now captive leg while popping her hips with sashay, salsa dirty dancing style. AC/DC be damned, she only feeds off the fact that he's blushing and laughing and having fun, and without hearing Byron getting hit and him distracted with Joey, she's just as distracted now and definitely not yelling out.

When they're both at breathing pickup point, she does a full spin until close to dizzy, then latches on for dramatic end-pose, one leg hitched high up with split locking on Itzhak for him to grab while she balances on one leg and leads back with arc of back into snap-still end pose. He's really a great man-post, but somewhere in all that, she is looking at his feet and keeping pace to match him as suits instead of fully outdoing him-- it's that let a man lead while backhanded leading thing that some dances either require or make room for. While dipped back, she turns her head to the pair of boxers and marvels, "Hey, no one's doubled over or bleeding from the lip yet."

Joey cracks a wide grin. "Bein a twin, livin in my house with three families and goin to prison for three years? I don't EVEN know what pride or privacy is man." He grins and shrugs, "Sides if someone wants to say somethin about it they can bring it to me and we'll have a chat." And by chat he means a reckoning. "Lilith, I owe you lunch after this, girl. "

"Oh Jesus," Itzhak says, eyes getting wide as Lilith womanhandles him without pity. He loses the tempo entirely as she gets nasty, laughing and trying to keep up. At the end he's forced to support her with an arm around her waist. "No! NO she didn't do that, she had mercy on a poor Yid." He sets her on her feet, his face bright red, but he's still grinning. "Ya trouble."

Look, if Joey is observing the dancing, Byron's going to try and gain the advantage on him because Thorne's eyes are nowhere near the dancing pair. Recently, he's been testing out two taps before withdrawing, not finding the opening he's looking for. At some point, he shakes things up, following those two taps with a left hook. Already glistening with sweat after all of this exertion, he can feel some of that stinging at his eyes. He's breathing hard, his pulse racing and it really looks like the both of them could use a break! Yes, he feels it, those places where Joey made contact with. If anything, there'll be bruising, he feels that light tenderness with each and every movement. "Hey, I wasn't knocking it." He makes sure to say. He knows enough about the Kelly family as it were and Byron lived in a large house with just the minimal amount of family members in it, closer to the American average, probably.

"Yeah, well, everyone knows that, but I mean well. Generally." Lilith tells Itzhak as she drops her leg down to stand and catch her breath with a bubble of laughter before grinning over at Joey and gathering up her hair to pile back up and band over a few times in messy knot to get it off her neck again in the summer heat now that she's not going full ham with distracting dance around. Honestly, Byron might be a little conditioned from the old days to ignore all her prancing around, but good on him for keeping eyes on opening all the while. She's got more to shake now and poor Yid's blush to show for it.

"I like to tango too because it can be meeeean. Like dance fighting. But you really have to have some music and feel your partner to make it work, otherwise it's just a bunch of flopping around and breathing and leaning and grabbing on each other. I'm pretty sure Byron is still plenty full up on El Tango de Roxanne from back when I was obsessed with Moulin Rouge as a pre-teen. Or maybe he's gone and blocked it out like PTSD, I'm not sure. The impressive part right now about Mister Thorne is the fact that he's still on his feet.."

In fact, as she looks at Byron and Joey and makes that comment to watching company, she looks a little concerned unwittingly, like he's wearing himself down for some final pop from the Kelly brother. Because... it's a Kelly brother, consummate training professional-esque as he is at the moment.

Joey isn't observing the dancing. He's observing the Byron and listening to the cries of the wild Roz. It's not a finaly ka-TAK from that wicked left fist that comes from Joey though. He braces and takes the last hit and pulls him in for a hold. Byron gets a headbutt to the guard and a thumping pat-hug on the back. He's hard but fair. Joey punches his gloves. "Good. Good. Take five. " Never stopped Byron from coming over and playing GI Joe in the back yard and getting into adventury fun sorts of trouble. "Hey, know what we ain't done in foreeeeever? Hikin trip." Looking around he wanders, catchin his breath and fetching his water bottle. "Everyone's talkin about that man forest. Be kinda cool to go back." looking to Itzhak he loos amused, "Ya done lettin her pick o ya? No's a fair fuckin answer. I mean we won't blame ya a bit."

"Tango I ain't learned," Itzhak says, wiping his forehead, still clearly embarrassed as hell, Lilith did her work splendidly. He's smiling at her a little stupidly. "That was fun. Thanks. I think." He flips Joey off with a fair amount of good cheer. Seems to have worked out a lot of that grouchy tension with Lilith climbing all over him in ridiculous dance poses. "Don't rattle my kettle, Kelly."

A bit of boxing training not long after a day of paintball, if Byron's body was annoyed at him before, it'll be pretty pissed for the next couple of days or so. Strained and sore muscles felt good though! It just meant you did shit with them. With that final embrace, this gives him a chance to finally take a breather. Their gloves making contact without anyone taking a swing, he finally steps back, letting his guard drop fully. "I swear, every year I'm thinking 'Man, that Kelly's gotta be feeling it about now', but I'm always sorely disappointed. You're really in your prime, man." Walking out the exertion, he wanders over to join the spectators, if primarily to grab his water bottle from his bag. He works to remove his gloves first, then the mouthpiece. That's followed up by a guzzling down of almost as much water as he'd sweated out. "I learned from the best." He finally allows himself to say. "Haven't caught up with him yet though. One day."

Lilith at least doesn't rib Itzhak about his blush anymore, she lets Joey do that, nodding solid appreciation and approval to the former with gratitude for the compliment and paying compliment to the dance itself. Then she blows out a little whistle through her teeth while watching Byron chug water, though she doesn't say exactly what the whistle is for. After looking back at the Kelly brother, she snap points, "Honestly, I haven't been deep out in forever, just mostly around the pond or sawmill fringes, sounds like fun. And by that, I mean, you're probably signing up to fall into-- you know what, I'm not even going to say it. I'm just going to think lovely thoughts, especially if I get pushy and end up tagging along."

One eye arches, and a halfgrin and then Joey waggles his eyebrows. Rattle-Rattle. The half smile hangs and his head tilts. "I appreciate that." He sniffs catching his breath a bit of a sweaty mess, and rubs the back of his forearm against his forehead. "Yeha. Kinda makes me wish I didn't fuck things up so bad. I ain't too old yet though, hmm?" The man that could have started trying tfor pro IF he didn't let his damn anger issues get in teh damn way and if he didn't take his time he could have been training and take those 3 years for felix instead. Still, there's this. "It's doin someone some good though I guess." His blob of a hand in the glove extends towards Lilith, "Right? Be a fuck ton of fun. Sure everything bad'll happen but it will if we sit at home anyways."

Byron not only chugs down the water, but he lets some pour all over his face to chase the sweat away, some spilling down to his moisture wicking shirt. With his gloves now off, he can finally run his fingers through his now drenched hair, pushing it back, styling it as if he were using pomade. "Hiking?" He might be business chic, but Byron was never afraid to get his hands dirty... or the outdoors. Licking at his lips, tasting the bit of salt left over, he draws in another deep breath, before he takes a seat near Lilith, his free hand now reaching for a towel. "Used to play there all the time." There's a pause, his eyes on Winslow, "But I heard that uh... extinct creatures may be lurking within. I was about to call the GHPD to check it out. Better them than me, you know."

"Maybe if it happens again, you can do whatever the others were doing and talk to it in a series of clicks and mental whistles or whatever the hell." Lilith tells Byron as she steps forward to fist bump on Joey's outreached glove with a lot of silent 'fair point' about bad shit showing up even when they're just chilling at home. Then she turns to watch Byron pour water on himself after all that chugging, then leans to grab the towel from him after he settles down with it, "Good god, sometimes when I look at you, it's irritatingly a photoshopped moment. Why'd you have to grow up like that?" Like she's really one to talk, but then again, he didn't see her leg and hip-grind mauling poor Itzhak while they were boxing for kicks.

If she gets a hold of the towel, she tries to flip him with the corner of it for the general sake of punctuating her bitching about Byron being hot and sends a look at Joey like she's rallying support, "I'm going to stand and you pour a water bottle on me while I shake my head slow motion and rake my hair, aid my vengeance."

Joey shrugs, "Well to be fair when we were kids his job wasn't forward tackle. It lets you turn out prettier and smarter I guess." He yanks the catch with his teeth to start wriggling the gloves off so his hands stop feeling baked like a cookie. Looking to Byron he asksdryly, "You rather deal with my mom or her dinette set that ran me over takin a small chunk outta me or a dinosaur with other shit to worry about? Sides they got lil arms. They can't climb fuckin trees. We'll wait it out." Why are these three talking about this like it's normal? Looking to Lilith he arches an eyebrow and asks of the request only, "We get to sing about you being a steel-town girl on a Saturday night at the same time? I think it's required."

"My job was keeping myself out of debt." Byron will admit. Though he had the grades and made all the friends, he didn't have much time for extracurricular activities. He played sports, but not for the school's team! Though he's pretty sure, they all had to keep their families or themselves out of debt as teenagers. "Me?" He's acting coyly modest. "I'd ask the same about you." Though he doesn't extend the same compliment to Joey, merely patting the guy on the back as he drips all over the gym floor. It's a mixture of sweat and water, the floor's used to it! Once the towel is snatched from him, he makes sure to move aside before Lilith can do anything naughty with the thing. "Why are those my only options?" He then asks, looking to Joey, "I have a million things that I can do on a Saturday that doesn't involve your mom or her dinette set. But sure, we can set up a date. It'll be like old times."

Joey nods at the token gesture tucking one glove under his elbow to pull it off and then the other, though he doesn't take the tape off. He's still working today. Blinking at why Byron's questioning the table he just blinks Dude... "Yeah but part of it is still running around the south end of the city and if it don't come home ma's just gonna haunt me so... Jaim and I gotta find it. SIdes, I don't need it runnign over my nephew by accident."

Oh...yeah.... sure Kelly. Yeah that's normal why the fuck not?! Does he even know what 'normal' looks like to the rest of the nation? Not a clue.

"Yeah, I'll tell Jaim. Uhhh it is still the wilderness, emphasis on wild. You got a rifle? Somethin?" He looks at the two of em. "I'd say grab somethin in case. Good boots, water. we'll worry about food and that later. "

"... I think it is too. And now I kind of want a bucket of the ice variety because he's being so damn humble about it so I can be particularly fightin' dirty with it. Also I'm pretty sure he just made a 'your mom' joke." Lilith tells Joey like a little instigator of not-serious while eyeing Byron as he moves out of towel snap range, beckoning with it afterwards so she can try to rub him down at the hair, neck, and shoulders like a good sport. That's assuming he trusts her this level of particularly impish right now to do so. She's probably done being bitchy about him being unfairly hot, though, on principle, "C'mere Tyson. Don't bite my ear, let me play towel girl while you're beat up."

"I have guns in the shop and loft. Shotgun and handgun unless I borrow a rifle from stock, though." Yes, because Lilith really needs a gun. She likes them, though, so it's fine, "Anyway, there's always a chance it could go well and we could just wear ourselves hiking into the middle of nowhere to lay out and relax after. Paintball went pretty well. I was irrationally afraid it was going to turn into zombie touch football or something absurd with a third team. And I was the last one standing on my team." She pauses, "Byron's team won, but still. The point is, no one turned into a zombie and everything was good."

Oh, Byron doesn't trust Lilith to not try to snap that towel at him again, so even though she beckons him to come closer, he stays at a distance for a short while longer, wearing that shit-eating grin across his lips. Eventually and with caution, he moves in close just so she can happily play towel girl. It always made him happy to see Lilith happy, especially when they were growing up. "This is just Firefly Forest. I mean, if our main concern is velociraptors, then I don't know what to say. I've never shot at one of those before. But uh... sure, I can pick up some hunting rifles if you think we need it." He then goes on to say after Lilith mentions the paintball game, "Yeah, I played for Team de la Vega. I'm the son of a cop through and through." This is said with sarcasm.