2020-10-10 - Hit Me Baby

(TXT to Seth) Ravn : You still going to teach me to dropkick tentacle monsters? I'm kind of looking at the gym here and wondering if the jocks will eat me.

(TXT to ) Seth : By yourself?! They most certainly would. Fresh meat for the beast. Give me 15 and I will meet you over there, hold them back while the smell you and get them to realize you are not food.

(TXT to ) Seth : Too scrawny anyway. Not much of a meal.

Joey is out of the ICU and back into his own gym. True fact about life: Crime doesn't take a day off and neither does Joey Kelly. There's no 'jocks' and no treadmills here. That's all at Pump It Up. Here there's brick, and bags, and the faint smell of mothballs. There's the lingering hint of grit and aggression that seems to have its own aura. It is clean though. It's not fancy or recently painted or adorned, but it is highly functional with what is needed for the job over what is 'marketable'. It's not changed a lot since 47 when it was built but the ring is new... because someone set it on fire. We're not here to talk about that.

Joey's back, broken in jeans, and a sweatshirt that has the high school mascot on it and the sleeve ripped off because they were out of 'brick shithouse' sized sweatshirts and he improvised. He's still sporting stitches above one eye though the swelling and bruising look like they're going alright. One hand is wrapped and taped, and his normally gravely voice still sounds a bit hoarse leaving those green eyes that seem to always have the expression 'Do I need to bury you alive or do you have a legit question to ask me' in them. He's shuffling between paper one and then to paper number two, then number one again, and back to two like he's trying to make heads or tails of it.

Roughly 15 minutes or so later, Seth pulls up to the curb in a unremarkable sedan of muted color, definitely not the '68 GTO he has mentioned to Itz the other night, it must still be in need of repair. Stepping out, the enforcer makes his way to the back of the car, popping the trunk open and grabbing a well worn duffel, weighted down with whatever is inside. He is dressed for a workout, faded sweatpants and an old vintage KISS t-shirt that looks like it might be a size too small, but torn in stratigic places to make it fit.

"Hey," Seth calls over to Ravn as he slams the trunk lid down, slinging the bag over his shoulder. "You ready for this? Whatever you do, don't be afraid. They can smell fear, don't let them smell your fear. It will be over before it even starts..." the large man says ominously before he starts to move towards the door to the warehouse turned gym, grinning like a loon once his back is turned to Ravn.

Jeans, shirt, boots, leather jacket -- all black, of course. Ravn has not made any accomodations to the idea of a work-out when it comes to wardrobe choices, and he's probably about to regret that. He may not be aware of it himself but -- honestly, the man looks like someone who should be walking down a runway, not into a gym. Cue the prison bride jokes.

The Dane quirks an eyebrow upon seeing the other man, though. "How can I not radiate fear? I'm entering the shark basin with a man who's wearing a Love Gun t-shirt." He shakes his head lightly and follows the far bigger man inside.

"Honestly, I prefer Cold Gin to Love Gun, but I was always more of a Frehley fan." Seth says as he reaches out and holds the door open for the way overdressed Dane. "So, uh...that's what you are wearing, huh? This is going to be interesting. Hey! Fresh meat incoming!" grins Seth as he follows Ravn inside. "Get the loaners!"

Joey doesn't even look up, "Sup, bruh." He knows the voice. His right hand, the off one, greets Seth with a fistbump and one of those handshakes that is complex for no good reason than the say hi. He looks at Ravn where the words might be presumed to be *the fuck is he doing here?8 but what comes out of the face of the 5'10" bellicose bruiser is, "Bartender. Sup." It's not a night neighbourhood and these are not nice people, but there is what one does and then there is needlessly being an asshole which Joey does not seem inclined to do at least. There's that. Looking back to Seth he says "Roz look at that yet? Sounds like shit." There's the arch of his eyebrow slightly before he adds, "Cruz run you off the road?"

Ravn keeps his hands in his pockets. "Gym coach. Yo."

He looks around at the place with obvious interest; it may not look all that unusual to someone with a US passport but from his point of view? These small, local boxing and martial gyms exist in Denmark too (and are often just as much fronts for organised crime, at that) but they look different. They always go to a lot of effort to look child friendly, for one -- because that's where the money is, or at least the good upstanding citizen reputation; in the junior fighting leagues.

This is a far more rough and tumble affair. Inexplicably, it reminds Ravn of the set of an episode of an old, Scottish police procedural from the 1980s. The gym owner is being strong-armed by the Russians to work as a hit man and throw matches but in the end, he dies doing so, and the angry police captain goes after the Russians, something something, not like he can remember the bloody episode anyway, Taggart probably stopped filming before he was even born(1).

(1) It didn't. It ran until 2010 in fact.

He looks back to Joey eventually. "Monaghan promised me he'd give me a few pointers on self defence. I figured I'd very pointedly not turn up in a track suit because so far, when the manure has hit the mill, They haven't told me to go home and change and be ready for pickup in thirty minutes."

"Nah, but I have an appointment with the Doc to come look at her and get her roaring like a lion again. That's a rental." Seth says with a motion of his head towards the outside. "'Sides, I'd never bring her over here. Likely to get stripped. People around here don't have an appreciation for the finer things." he explains to Joey as he continues to elaborate 'handshake' greeting.

Looking between the gym owner, and Ravn, the enforcer chuckles, "You two know each other. Why am I not surprised...and while that reasoning is sound, you are going to regret the chafing you are going to get today. When this shit hits, it isn't going to matter what you are wearing at the time, but here? Well...I guess you will just have to find out."

The redhead looks back to Joey, "Ring free?"

Joey murmurs to Seth, both eyebrows arched, "No one's stealing shit on this lot unless they want to lose both their goddamn hands." There's a pause, "First." Looking to Ravn top down and up he points, "Locker. Changing room. There." Back to Seth his weight shifts to one foot then the other and back to center. "He don't know shit and you're going to throw him in the ring?" Looking to Ravn he asks, "You ow this guy money?" Oh yeah, Joey's humor is deadpan as ever. There's no heat behind it. "Yeah I got Duarte doing endurance runs. Go nuts." He pauses and says "Don't break em." considering the rest he adds for Seth, "Need to talk to you after if you got five minutes." Translation: Small, but important update I don't want on the phone.

"I get that," Ravn nods at Seth. "But I need to know whether I can even do this. Like, well, this. If I can, then maybe I'll get some proper gym clothes and regular work-outs. I need to know this. If I keel over, then I might as well just get used to the idea of being bloody useless."

He blinks at Joey's joke, and then grins slightly. "It's payback for a bad G&T, I think. And you're right -- I don't know shit. So, you know. Help me to learn how to drop kick zombies, or at least run around them in circles until everyone else has gotten away, before they eat me."

Nodding to Joey, Seth says "I'll make time." It's what you do when the Underboss asks for your time. You make it, even if you don't have it to spare. Luckily, he does so it isn't an issue. The redhead casts a glance between Joey and Ravn with a roll of his shoulders, "No promises on the braking, but I will do my best. It's why I brought pads. Besides, I think he is going to be me more than the other way round."

Seth turns to Ravn and shakes his head, "If you wanted to run, I can get you set up with whatever Joey has Duarte doing. Running isn't a bad plan, you just need to make sure you are faster and can run farther than the guy next to you, but you wanted to learn how to 'dropkick zombies', which by the way would be a bad move...a dropkick ends with you being prone and the horde feasting on your innards by the way. Zombies get head-shots, everyone knows that...but I digress. No, I am going to teach you the basics..." Seth says as he tosses the duffel bag towards the bartender-in-training, "So take this, and go change. I got some spare sweats in there, they should fit your lanky ass, and then bring the rest of the gear back out here and I will show you how to pad up. I'll meet you in the ring."

Joey rolling a look to Ravn he lets Seth do the talking. No changes there. Set Ravn up with a run? There's a nod. The likelihood of him having a to-do list is high. "The only way to dodge a bullet is don't be there." Coming from the meat machine with stitches in him. The words are slow but arrive with gravel and purpose. "Order of training operations: Know how to get out, get away, then get even. You cannot fight if you are dead. So," He looks to Seth as if to put a point on that, "Step one is to stay upright and stay aware. You can manage a bar you can manage that. He'll walk you through it." there's a reason the words FIGHT SMART are printed above the locker room door.

Ravn decides to not argue. He did intend to not change his clothes because damnit, the Dark Men don't send a RSVP to their parties, they take you as you are -- jeans, underoos, butt naked. However, both of these men are professionals and he cedes that maybe, just maybe they do know what they're talking about. He voices but one objection: "I can't run. That's half my problem. I'm asthmatic, I'll just fall over in a pile of coughing if I try. So yeah. Upright and aware, and dodging like a chicken, I guess."

He may have the height of a jock. But that's definitely all he's got. Some people belong in gyms. Some people very, very much belong in dusty old libraries, wearing horn-rim glasses and obsessing about obscure medieval texts. At least he can take directions enough to head towards the locker room as instructed, leaving the other two men behind.

"Darth, don't pussy out on me and use that as an excuse. Even an asthmatic can run, they just need to build up the endurance to do it, unless your telling me Jackie Joyner-Kersee was just a fluke or a fake." the redheaded enforcer says, folding his arms over his chest. "I'm assuming you have an inhaler or something like that, yes? Take a puff, start small and work your way up. You'll be surprised what you can do." Seth calls to Ravn as he walks towards the locker room, turning to Joey after the Dane is out of earshot.

"He's going to die, isn't he? I mean, I can teach him knee, groin, throat...but unless he has the desire to push it, it isn't going to do a lick of good." Seth sighs with a shake of his head, "Anyway...talk now, or later?"

Joey doesn't interrupt but waits til Ravn is changing and look back. "Gotta walk first. Build up the lungs. We're not his M.D. But... we can teach himhow to survive. If he's saying zombie whatever? That's a real threat he don't want to get into arm's reach. Focus on stretching and cardio. Go for evasion first." He emphasizes, "Start. Small. We fight him now all he'll learn is he can't fight. Which is true. yet. But you don't use fists to take us down you use taxes." There's a faint grin at the math joke. Taking a deep breath he says with a murmur, "Someone's moving in. GOnna rally the troops. Wanna find out who. Careful what you tell to who cause we might got a rat or two. Keep yoru ears own and watch for being followed."

When Ravn returns he says, hoarsly, "Look I'm gonna set time aside to work specifically on lungs cause mine are shot right now. Park. Tomorrow. 5am by the fountain. Bring good shoes."

Ravn does indeed not take long to change his clothes. Whether he has an inhaler and has used it is anyone's guess, but the frown on his brow speaks volumes about past, well-meaning souls telling him to 'just push through it'. What he says, though, is, "I don't know who Jackie All That is or was, I'm afraid. What I do know is that when I run, I start coughing. I've made it on the road so far by being unpredictable. Stabbed a bloke in the fork with a fork once."

He's not boasting. Perhaps on some level he realises that stabbing a guy is on the light end of the sliding scale of violence where these two other men are concerned. It's a simple statement. Ravn Abildgaard is no scrapper, but he does know that there are unpleasant people in the world. Then he nods at Joey. "I'll do whatever you tell me to do, until I can't. Guess we'll reach middle ground, find out what I can and cannot do. I'm guessing I need to talk to somebody about a gym membership later as well?"

Before Ravn comes back, Seth nods to Joey. "These the same that tried to ventilate my cousin? Or someone new?" There is a beat as he takes in a deep breath, "I'll watch my back, and Vic's. She moved in a house down from me."

As Ravn returns, Seth smiles. "Olympic gold medalist in cross country. If she can run, eventually you can too. Joey is right, start with walking. "

Seth give Joey a nod, and motions to the ring, "But for now, I'll show you a move or two to give you an idea. Want to start with knee, groin, or throat?"

Joey looks up to Seth and murmurs, "Dude, I was there for that. That was no joke." He pauses and tilts his head, "She lives across the street from me. You're down by us now?" There's a pause and he adds, "Why?" Asks the life long Elm St. resident! Though, in fairness, he says "Knee. He knows how balls work. Take out the opponent ability to pursue and you can regroup." For all Joey is not booksmart or legally pass the 12th grade he's got street savvy down.

He doesn't comment on Jackie. He does tell Ravn, still with that rasp in his voice, "Well right now I'm lucky I can walk around the block after the accident so we're going to start there and if you outpace me?" There's a pause and he says in the same even cadence that is difficult t to read, "Good for fucking you."

"Right. Knees, it is." Ravn climbs up there -- and in doing so probably manages to demonstrate that he's never entered a boxing ring before in his life. He's a skinny guy -- the wiry sort that probably can't gain weight even if they want to. All the same he moves with the confidence of something -- an awareness of his surroundings that might go well with that manual dexterity that at least Seth has seen him show off at the bar on occasion. The spatial awareness of a mover, even if he is admittedly not exactly a powerful one.

"Always used misdirection when someone wanted to punch me in the face," he notes. "Don't know if that's any use for what you're about to show me, but I'm effectively ambidextrous."