2019-11-14 - Gym by Disney (tm)

Shauna has been preparing for the second part of the fighting. Not that she tells anyone or talks about it. At the moment she's on the bags, warmed up, but so far no one has been around for some good healthy sparring. She's on the smaller bag and she's keeping it going pretty good for her size. It's a little over her head, set for the usually taller patrons. She didn't mind it. Challenges were not something she backed down from much.

Music is plaing on her phone since she's almost the only one here. Whoever is working and maybe a couple of others. No one has complained yet!

Two men emerge from the locker room, looking as if they're trying to pretend they don't particularly know each other and aren't leaving together. It's just a coincidence they're both biting back smirks and snickers of laughter as they peel off from each other, one dark featured man heading towards the exit where Cristobal, of lighter brown hair and sharp crystalline blue eyes despite his dusky skin, seems to just be getting to the gym after changing out of his street clothes.

Bare feet and loose jersey shorts over a pair of skin tight black ones, shirtless with a smattering of tattoos: a sacred heart on his chest, words in Spanish on his left ribs, and a gored bull across his shoulders, Chris is taking a roll of tape to his knuckles as he heads for a heavy bag.

Shauna isn't above watching eye candy, even if the eye candy had no interest in her gender at all. A visual was a visual and could certainly be used as fodder later. Green eyes watch the departure just long enough to notice the newest arrival. She traces over his form because who wouldn't? Again, she didn't care the sexual orientation. Those eyes though.. She bites her lip and even hesitates in knocking around the bag. "Looking for a sparring partner?" Had she seen him before? Was he at the last fight night? Shauna had been there and defeated someone she didn't know.

While she waits an answer, she flexes her own taped hands, before going back to tapping at the bag with her fists.

That's the thing about appearances. They can be deceiving. Just as Cristobal eyes Shauna briefly and gives a little snort of laughter because she's just so tiny! "Don't know if that'd be a spar, or domestic abuse. Why don't you save your manicure and go make me a sandwich instead." He starts winding strips of white adhesive around his knuckles, making quick work of taping them off and biting the excess away with a rip of his teeth.

"What would you know about domestic abuse?" Shauna scoffs at the least likely part of the sentence she could find. She continues hitting the bag with one hand while checking her nails with the other. "It'll survive. I think I may damage it more making a sandwich than sparring with you." Her words don't really hold any levity. At all. She does push red hair from her face as she ceases on the bags all together. "I mean if you're not up to it, then you're not up to it. That's all you have to say." Her own words hold a touch of an Irish accent she's trying hard to hide.

That was the wrong question to ask perhaps, as now Cristobal is looking at her with a wolfish grin that lacks any mirth. It's more a baring of teeth than a true smile. "Alright, I get it. You've got spunk and sass. You're a truly empowered woman, ready to take on the world. Tell you what, half pint. I don't have long, but I'll let you can knock me around for a few so you have something for your spank bank of Girl Power for later." He starts heading to the mats instead of the ring proper. "What's your style, anyways, besides slap and tickle?"

"So charming." Shauna rolls her eyes but she definitely wasn't going to back down now. She follows him to the ring, opting to roll beneath the bottom rope than to step between the others, through the middle. "Empowered woman." There's definitely an eyeroll at that. "Slap and tickle? I'm not your last lover and I don't want the details. No biting or kicking or pulling fucking hair. No scratching. Just fight me like you'd fight anyone else. Legal rules. And no crying," She smirks. Squared up already, she doesn't wait for him to warm up. Once he's in the ring and appears ready, she'll go directly in for a punch. No feints, no pulling back, just an outright punch to the face.

"I'm sorry, was I supposed to be charming? Didn't know I stepped into Gyms by Disney. If some fucking birds and squirrels come to your aid and you break out in song, I'm out." And then the little spunky redhead is coming straight for him, but there must be some tiny tell about her swing, or he just has an intuition for which way it's coming from and aimed. He pivots back neatly from the blow so it doesn't so much as kiss his face and he's following it up with a neat and tidy back hand blow of a mixed martial artist. No kicking takes half the fun out of his approach.

Bam! He's certainly more muscled than she is and she takes the blow and even wobbles on her feet. He almost knocks her down. Were it not for the rope, she likely would have. "Sounds like somoene's watched Disney before." Catching him on that, for knowing about birds and squirrels and singing. She doesn't give him the satisfaction of touching her hand to where he had managed to connect to check for blood. "Point for you." Studying him, she's quick on her feet, so she opts for moving them this time, feinting then pulling back and going for a more unexpected move.

"Who hasn't seen a fucking Disney movie?" Cris takes a hopping little set of steps backwards, not to retreat but to counter her own movements, giving him the room to taunt further. "I've gotten more pussy out of Simba becoming king than you spread around on prom night, and that's saying something." This time is bob is less weave, and she manages to clip him in a grazing blow that barely ticks his chin to the side. "There you go, Princess." He lowers his frame into a tight stance, than jabs with a quick one-two combo to her torso and face.

It was a connect but it was certainly a barely there connect. Disappointing for her! Especially following his comeback. "Simba becoming king?" That.. right there. That makes her laugh in genuine amusement, trying to work on imagery there. Squinting a little, she regards him just before he tightens up to strike back. "Guess I missed Prom. Pity. Sounds like I missed a lot of fun." Her head snaps back at the combo and he almost takes her breath. She wasn't even managing to hold her own right now, but she doesn't give up. And she makes no witty replies, opting to concentrate more instead of suffering the distractions. She tightens her fist and aims around his face area, if possible.

Punching is fun and all, but that's not really Cris' style. He likes to spice it up a little by throwing his whole body into the party. As she goes for another punch, he sidesteps out of its path and twists to throw his torso back against hers, first grabbing her wrist in a quick lock and then pivoting his hips to try and throw her to the mat. "Stay down, Red."

The quarterback is toast! The move surprises her and Shauna so very girlishly squeaks before she's body slammed. Then there's no squeaking at all. It's a groan! And she means every bit of it. But she's never been good at staying down for the count. With a growl she gets back to her feet with the assistance of the ropes and she staggers before balancing herself. "Make me," she demands before going in swinging again.

Cristobal's mistake wasn't immediately following up that toss with ground work. Maybe a choke hold or a leg lock, instead he errantly gave her the space she needed to get back up and keep swinging with renewed vim and vigor. Protecting his face, he takes a sharp one to the ribs and another surprising one that breaks his own block and makes him smack his own nose hard enough to sting his eyes, but he tries not to let her get away with it, coming back hard to do just what she stated. Make her.

With her own renewed energy, Shauna faces him down prepared for whatever this time. She had said make her and she knew that he likely would try and do exactly that. So she evades him, but just barely, and she does what he had done in the beginning, that sweeping back hand motion once she'd cleared herself from his arms and hands. She pivots and turns as she swings, intent on holding her advantage, all thoughts of talking evading her right now.

Cristobal is clipped again, adding insult to injury of the ache he still feels in his ribs. Still, he keeps his feet to the ground and his knees low, not bringing them into the fight in a subtle acknowledgement of the rules that she laid down before they began. Elbows? Elbows are totally fair game, and one gets aimed for her midsection. At least she's succeeded in shutting him up for now? That's a victory in itself.

"Oof." Right in the gut. Shauna sucks in some air, but she can't give in now, much as she was tired. Her body is pissed off at her but she can't stop. Not after the back and forth banter. She forces a few deep breaths, as deep as she can make them after being hit. Again, she feints, this tint with a left hook that she lets follow through to the last second only to come in with a right handed uppercut that hopefully will hit its mark.

Cristobal dips his shoulder as if falling for the feint and then manages once more to bob out of the true aim of her fist. He doesn't really think about it, he just reacts, throwing the full drive of his hips into his next blow aimed square at her face if she doesn't get her guard secured in time.

Her head whips back and Shauna falls directly flat on her back and she sees all sorts of stars. If that was a thing. God that hurts. Losing. Maybe not as bad as that hit but it was a close call. She's not going to just lay there, but she's done. "I cede." Fucking hardest words she'd said in awhile. That's going to leave a mark. First, she sits up and bobbles a little, like she's going to fall back down. "Well done." And she means it, even if it hurt to say. Bracing herself for the further degrading words, she reaches for the rope to get to her feet on her own steam, because somehow that was important to her. "Thanks for the practice."

Even if she declines it, there is a hand offered down to her from Cristobal. And though his breathing is quickened and his jaw is set, there doesn't seem to be a hint of smugness resulting in the take down. He actually has a lick of sportsmanship in his frame, giving the praise of, "Clean fight." It in a rumbled mutter.

With a messed up face, Shauna isn't attractive at all. So she gives hi a wry look, not even attempting a smile, but there's a measure of respect in her features. "Man this restaurant sucks." She muses. "The crow they serve tastes like shit."

There is a quick slap of camaraderie to her shoulder, one fighter acknowledging another instead of the crass cut downs he was giving her earlier. "You good?" Cristobal asks, because he's not about to leave a spar if the other fighter is going to go tits over teakettle the moment he steps away.

"I will be. Thanks. Maybe I should hire you as a trainer." Her lips quirk into a smirk but even that makes her wince. "I better get. Thanks again. Take care." She sits back down and rolls back out, reaching for her bag and things. She's heading out.