2019-09-12 - The Blind and the Brawler


Sunny and Matt meet in Fogwell's Gym and take part in a friendly competition.

Log Info:

Storyteller: {$storyteller}
Date: 09/12/2019
Location: Fogwell's Gym

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Fogwell's Gym is older than a good percentage of the city. It used to be part of a meat-packing plant during the turn of the century, and even then was used as an underground illegal boxing ring where immigrants would come and bet on their man in the contests shared between neighborhoods. That persisted for a time, then gave over to being more of a training facility over the years. And to this day is still owned and run by the Fogwells. Even if their youngest son has become a lawyer.
But it's still a good place to blow off steam. When one enters Foggy's Gym the first thing that hits them is the age of the place. The scent of thousands of men and some women who have sweat hard and exerted themselves strenuously in the pursuit of physical improvement permeates the old wood and the walls of the building. The decor is utilitarian and with boxing posters pasted up almost like a form of wallpaper. There's a desk at the entrance to handle the newcomers. A few attendants. But at this time of the late night there are only a few people training or working out.
And one of them is Matt Murdock. He's settled in under the speed bag, thumping it with a steady flow of movement. One fist catching it three times in a row as it bounces and bounces and then swapping to the other with that steady rhythm of thuppa-tha-thuppa-tha-thuppa-tha-thap as he swaps hands.

Little places like this always worked better for Sunny, a far cry from the super-fancy and super-modern places with rows and rows of equipment, mirrors and…well cameras. An old ring, a bunch of weights and a small crowd were all that the blonde woman needed. Shrugging out of a leather jacket, the woman tosses it aside and onto a bench before making the beginings of tying her hair back.
The boxing beat of the speed bag draws her gaze over, but for the moment her path takes her forwards towards some free weights where she begins the process of putting the weights onto the bar. It was going to take quite a few reps for her to feel it, but immortality didn't come with a guarantee of good health on its own.

The facility, for its age, isn't without its options. It does have a full size ring in the middle, as well as padded sparring mats around the sides. The racks and racks of free weights are well maintained including a central corner set of weight machines for the more esoteric exercises. Then there's an area for people to take laps around the entirety of the gym. But there off to the side is where several speed bags and heavy bags rest, next to some MMA sports dummies for grappling and the like.
And though he draws her gaze, the man in the grey sweats and white t-shirt seems to not notice her. Though that may well be easily understood should she notice the white and red cane that leans against the wall next to his gym-bag. Not even to mention that it's night time and he's wearing dark glasses over his eyes. Yet he maintains that rhythm steadily. His fist striking the speed bag over and over.
But then he winces slightly, frowning at a nasty bruise upon his far shoulder that seems to be stealing a step from him with his exercise.

To those with the senses of a normal human, it would be fairly easy to miss the scents of Sunny beneath the traces of excertion practically baked into the walls of a long-standing gym. For the senses of the Daredevil however? The hints of faint vanilla from the her shampoo, traces of gunpowder and…something else that's hard to place; something remeniscent of spring or summer, 'life' itself.

Or perhaps it would just be taken for some fancy perfume.

Eventually, she'd lift the bar up with little effort, raising it over her shoulders and beginning her reps. It was a few moments more before she notices the whince and the bruise alike, earning a slight frown. She doubted he'd like pity, concern or otherwise. Even so, she slings the bar across the back of her shoulders and walks a little closer before she continues her efforts. "You're very good," she offers lightly in casual conversation. "Your timing is great."

He did pick up that subtle scent, from fairly far off. His head had tilted just a little to the side. As she drew nearer he could hear the steady slow pace of her heart, a strength clearly in her that it doesn't need to work terribly hard to power her enhanced physique. But there was something in her steps too, a little more impact, a surety of movement.
And then when she drew close enough to speak he tilted his head to the side a little further, as if he only just noticed her then. "Thank you," He holds up a hand to slow the movement of the speed bag, then halt it by pressing it against the circular wooden frame. His touch retracts and it falls back jouncing a little on the end of its chain. "Old habit, coming here keeps me humble."
His smile is open, though his eyes are hidden behind those glasses. His nostrils flare slightly then he asks, "What brings you to Fogwell's?" Perhaps knowing she's new.

"Old habit?" she repeats, tilting her head to the side. There was an obvious followup question, but Sunny wasn't quite willing to ask about his sight right away. Even -she- wasn't that brazen! A few more reps and she places the bar down, slow and careful enough not to make a loud 'bang' that such mass might make.
"Saw it while heading back from a night out a little while ago," she says with a shrug, non-verbal gesture out of habbit but probably one that could be guessed to. "It had charm, and it was out of the way a little which…is kinda nice. Less people to be staring and…"
She trails off with a faintly horrified look at her faux-pas. "Anyway, I'm Sunny, it's nice to meet you."

Faux pas or no, Matthew doesn't seem to notice it as when she introduces herself he pulls off the boxing glove from his right hand and extends it towards her in her general direction, not quite directly to her but not too far off. His knuckles are calloused and his hands are taped up, and should she accept the hand shake his grip is warm and the shake is precise and business-like. Three short pumps then releasing gently.
His head tilts slightly to the side as he murmurs, "Seems like you're no amateur, yourself." Considering the amount of weight she had been working with. He kneels slowly and extends a hand to try and find that bar then lifts slightly…
His eyebrows lift, "Are you a professional?" Bodybuilder he probably imagines as he regains his feet.

A whince, the woman tilts her head to the side with a little blink as he tests her weights. "I dunno about professional, just…well practiced?" she chuckles. At least he couldn't -see- her build as far as she knew, so perhaps he couldn't know how strange it would be for someone like her to be able to lift what she does.
"What about you?" she asks in a perhaps unsubtle change of topic. "That sort of coordination and practice probably takes quite a bit of…well, practice. Who taught you that?"

"Ah, my dad." Matt says with an ease that speaks to many hours interacting with people. He straightens up and takes a few steps to the side, reaching a hand out and running it slowly along the wall at waist height until he finds the small cane. "He was a boxer here for a good long time."
The cane acquired he lightly taps it a few times upon the ground until he finds that bench seat that's nearby. Resting the cane over his lap, he takes a seat and starts the slow process of undoing the tape from his hands, occasionally working at it with his teeth.
"Mmmf, he got me into training when I was a kid and I've sort of stuck with it until it's become second nature." He turns his head to the side slightly and then pulls a strip of that tape free before rolling it up and setting it aside in a small ball for the trash later.
"You do any boxing, yourself?"

A nod, a pause and then a little verbal 'oh' of acknowledgement in an afterthought, Sunny moves over towards the heavy bag herself. Yet to strike it, she instead moves to lean against it lightly with her hands behind her. "Sounds nice," she offers lightly before tilting her head to the side. "Do you want a h-" she begins, but he clearly has the unwrapping handled and the blonde clears her throat. "A little bit," she answers lightly before chuckling, "More of a 'kick-boxing' sort. I've taken a few classes here and there."

It was easier than explaining the truth of her experience.

The young lawyer does have it fairly well in hand, but when she makes the abortive offer he smiles and lifts a hand in her direction, "Please?" He pulls off a little more tape and then adds, "Always goes faster with two." That said he shifts his focus to the other hand, lifting it up and turning the wrist to face him. He uses his teeth to tear another section and opens it up for future easy tearing.
"Kick-boxing, or do you mean martial arts?" He asks curiously, turning his glasses in her direction, letting her see herself in the reflection there. His smile is easy as he offers, "I've had some training in that regard as well but just a smidge."
Alright, he lies fairly easily as well. Or understates perhaps. Modesty? Doubtful.

Moving to assist, Sunny's fingers work at the tape around Matt's fingers and she gives a little laugh, talking as she works. "A little, yeah," she nods before his explaination has her chuckling a little further. "It's good for fitness and confidence, huh? Plus it passes the time." Sunny might have managed to be a decent liar herself in the past, but as far as Matt's comments go? She doesn't seem that great at picking up on them.
"I'd love to see what you can do sometime," she comments before she too leans down, using her own teeth for a moment on a particularly stubborn bit of tape and then pulling back. "That sort of work and dedication isn't exactly common."

"Well," Matt's smile is a little mischievous as he shakes his head, "I don't exactly do any exhibition matches or prize fighting." When she leans in to use her teeth it causes him to lean back a little to give her room, though his nostrils flare slightly, taking in that shampoo scent from her and quirking an eyebrow at something else that might trigger an old memory.
"But that's nice of you to say, Sunny. And forgive me, my name's Matt. Matt Murdock." He pulls at another bit of tape and tears it off. And after a little more effort he's free of those constraints, flexing his fingers and spreading his hands wide as he regains feeling in them fully.

"I meant some light sparring," Sunny grins, amusement plain in her voice before she draws the last of the tape away and balls it up similarly. The toss is made, it lands neatly in the bin across the space to a soft noise of victory. Ever the deadeye it seems! Straightening up, the blonde woman turns her gaze over the space and towards the ring nearby. "Still though, I wonder how often this place is actually used for matches anymore…"

Lips parting in a small 'ahh' as Matt tilts his head curiously in her direction. "You mean you want to pick on the blind guy and see how well you can knock him around?" Murdock's lip twists with amusement as he shakes his head mock condeminingly even as he starts to unlace his sneakers with a few pulls at the knot and then at the sides of it, loosening the shoe.
"You'd be surprised though, they do some 4H bouts for some of the kids, and a few c-class bouts. But… yeah, nothing like the old days."
He starts on the other shoe and tilts his head, "How about this? We can grapple some if you're familiar, jiu-jitsu, MMA, judo. If you're familiar. And from there see where it goes?" Since one has to build up trust as to the competency level of their partner. Espcially when they face the challenges that Matt Murdock apparently does so.
"Sound good?" The other shoe is taken off and then the socks are pulled free.

"What?! No!" Sunny protests, shaking her head and raising her arms defensively. "I didn't really…" she trails off, eyes narrowing a little before frowning. "You're messing with me, aren't you?" she befings before shaking her head with a little laugh. His explaination earns a nod, but his suggestion for an alternative has her blinking. "Oh uh…sure. I'm a little less…practiced at that. You could probably teach me a thing or two."

There wasn't a lie to that. Her scrapping and a bit of kick-boxing didn't really lend to taking the time to have learnt the finer things in technique.

Matt rises to his feet and steps forwards a few paces, out onto the mats, exactly where he expected them to be. He'll take a moment walking around the edge, lightly touching the curve of his toes along the boundaries as if committing them to memory as he strolls. "Well," He turns his head in her general direction and says, "Just easier for me, since you maintain contact more. I'll know where you are."
He stops at the far end from her and rolls his shoulders, loosening up a bit until his arm crackles a little from an old injury, that bruise not doing him any favors. "But to be fair feel free to use hand and leg techniques, if striking is more your focus."
Then his smile shifts a little wry, "I promise it's not just an excuse to get my hands on you."

A raise of her eyebrow was unseen, but the woman gives a little laugh and then shrugs her shoulders. "You're awful confident, I'll give you that. But you might find I'm not so easy to beat, practice or not." A pause as she bends to undo her own shoes and then stepping out onto the mats herself. "I'm…stubborn."

There's a light bounce on her feet, loosening up and stretching out comes with ease to Sunny and the inhuman ability certainly helped when it came to latent injury. Curiousity for what Matt could do aside, she was still rather confident. She didn't exactly have the means to know what she was in on. "Hands or no, you might not enjoy this. I don't intend to go -too- easy on you." She wasn't without the tendancy for a little bluster either.

Murdock shakes his head and then as the last step for prepping he removes his glasses, folding them closed neatly and setting them on the lip of the boxing ring next to the mats they'll be using. He then turns back to face her, and she'll see the whitened cloudy irises of his eyes as he faces her but then closes them, preferring to fight that way when in public. "Please, don't go easy at all. I prefer my accomplishments to be accomplishments."
He lifts one leg behind him, grabbing his foot and stretching out his thighs as he bounces on the other foot, then swaps legs and stretches the other. He'll bounce in place a little and smiles across the way towards her, "So just remember that when you're tapping out and crying uncle."
And as he says that he settles down smoothly into a crouch, hands forward and open as if ready to grab. He takes an instant to push a hand through his dark red hair and tells her, "Ready when you are."

Her gaze does indeed meet his as best it can, but then his own baiting comment has her smirking for a moment before she gives a smirk. Invitation given? She comes forward with a grin and her hand comes out. Thanks to his senses, he probably could sense her dimensions, yet when her hand comes forwards to try and shove him backwards and off balance there was a startling amount of strength.

Perhaps she was just keen?

She wasn't trained in Jujitsu, or even Judo. She had wrestled with strength and brawled in her life, that was about it. After all, between her strength and gunslinging? It tended to take a bit of effort to have her on the ground and on the defensive!

There is so much overlap between the techniques of the East and the West. If she's had her time struggling and grappling against opponents, she knows many of the movements needed to maintain and survive when fights so often go to the ground. But it's true… Matt Murdock does have that edge. And she might well notice through it all he maintains a small smile even when concentrating.
Her hand darts out to try and shift his posture and she's able to get a grip on his shoulder briefly to push, but he turns with it, flowing almost instinctively with the movement. His other hand comes up and catches her upper arm, perhaps surprised at the thickness of her bicep. She is definitely strong, well-defined as his fingers clench into the crook of her elbow.
There's a moment where they're close, and she can undoubtedly catch the scent of him. Rough and masculine from the hours of training, sweaty from the exertion, something akin to leather and steel, but also the lightness of whatever shampoo he wears.
For an instant they'll strain against each other, and he can sense her strength, so gives way under it turning his hip and /pulling/ her across his side as he shifts his weight with a smooth turn, hands slipping along her arm to catch her wrist as he brings her down /firmly/ onto the mats with a low _whumpf_.
Though he doesn't go for the pin, instead he backs off and lets her get up when he asks her, "You were saying?"

Even with her resilliance and her strength, there was a sudden startling moment to loosing one's center of balance and control. A moment that brings out a her own little exclaimation of shock before she hits the ground herself. She can indeed catch his scent, but truth be told she was more focused on the startling application of his own strength.
Less than hers? Undoubtably. But it was still plenty for a 'mortal' and was being applied exactly where it needed to be. So shocked was she, she's too stunned to struggle at first and he's already backing up. "Well damn."

Back up onto her knees and then the balls of her feet, she rolls her shoulders. "Maybe I should have taken you at your word!"

There's a smile, then it's a smirk…then she's dropping lower and twisting, clearing trying to sweep her leg out and take Matt's own out from under him.

On some level Matt most likely can sense what she is doing. Can 'see' it in the subtle sounds of her movement, the rasp of her bare foot sliding across the pebbled plastic fabric of the mats. The faint channeled exhalation of her breath as she moves, and even the soft parting of her lips when she draws in. Yet Matt Murdock would have no way to tell, and so she'll feel her shin catch the inside of his ankle and hooking, slice that balance away from him.
He hits the mats to the side, breaking his fall smoothly, well-trained and rolling with one shoulder upon the ground and turning to recover and face her, he has one foot under him already, the other knee flat, with one hand fingers splayed upon the soft surface between the. His head is turned slightly to the side as he listens to see if she is rushing him…
Or if she's going to lash out again.

If he knew her, he'd probably not have to guess. She was already moving by the time he hits the mat, heading to try and practically pounce the blind lawyer and get to a straddling position. One didn't have to know much about ground fighting to recognize a clear position of dominance, even if in reality it was usually followed with a good punch or two to whomever she might manage to catch like that.

Still, the moves weren't angry…they were exhilerated. Already, this was far more fun than several hours of working with 'small' weights on her own.

As she dives in he rolls backwards, accepting her charge and she'll feel him lift his legs, sliding them around her chest and under her arms, locking with the ankles behind her back. This close she can feel how warm he is, either from simple body temperature, or the rush of exertion, or the hours of exercise. But the impact of her charge causes him to grunt slightly.
When she reaches for him he'll try and draw her arm forward, catching the wrist, and in one smooth motion will attempt to twist to the side and lock her arm into place between his legs and her elbow against his inner thigh. If he's able to get her onto her back there on the mats, he'll try and lock down that arm bar, planting one leg across her neck, knee upon her throat, while the other goes over her breasts and presses foot flat to the mats.
If she doesn't break his hold or tap then he'll lift his hips, trying to extend her arm painfully… since really, what is a little pain between friends?

Even if he hadn't been able to 'sense' her, there's been enough contact here that he'd be able to sense their similar height and the curves of her form. She wasn't some 'Ms Olympia' build, even if there was a bit of dancer-like tone for her limbs. So what happens next might be a little…odd. With a little -wumpf- of effort as she finds herself on her back once more, giving a little grunt of effort. But when he lifts his hips to try and extend her arm? It doesn't move.
It almost felt for a moment like trying to bend a metal bar…then she was suddenly twisting and rolling her body over in a way that practically her lifting his entire bodyweight up before she twisted and attempted to…wrestle her way up back to that first attempted mount.

As soon as he felt that the arm bar would not work, and then when she started to overpower the hold, she'd feel his touch slip free of her, one leg sliding out to the side to grant him some leverage as he pushes her shoulder to give himself some space to twist smoothly to his feet. A quick two steps back, the fabric of the mats surrendering under his bare feet whisper as they're compressed.
Then he wipes a forearm over his brow, the faint sheen of sweat seen there as he smiles across the way towards her, "You're very strong." Since she is, but then again there is something strange about her. Since she did have firm musculature, but there was also a softness to her touch.
Fingertips curl and gesture towards her, summoning her back to the fight as he murmurs, "Alright, let's try again." And he hunkers back down, hands extended towards her, one reaching out as if trying to find her sleeve on that t-shirt or her shoulder.

Damn he was quick, and pretty smooth in his movements too. Sure she was hardly fighting in a manner she was comfortable with, but she knew someone well practiced when she saw it. Just how many hours would it have taken someone who can't -see- to learn this sort of thing to this degree. "You're…somethin' else," she counters, then the fight is on again.

No sleeves to grab, the tank top offered little more than bare skin for fingers to find before she moved and rolled backwards. She lets him get a grip, her own hand even tries to grip his wrist before she tries to tip herself backwards and bring her feet against his chest to tip him over the top of her and fling him (gentler than she could) past her.

Sunny wouldn't know what the move was called, but even she had seen it enough and understood the physics enough to attempt it.

There were some ways to avoid it, some methods that would involve a certain acrobatic brilliance to execute and reverse, leading to her being the one thrown instead of him. Except to do so… might well give her a bit more insight into the man than he'd be willing. So he grasps her shoulder, and she's able to get a hold and pull him off balance with a hand on his wrist.
Then she falls backwards and she can feel her feet catching into his chest as she draws back and tosses him in that clean arc into the air and over onto his back. Thankfully he knows how to land, one hand reaching out to slap upon the mats to break up the impact. But it's still hard enough to cause him to wince.
It gives her a moment, if she's flipping back over along with her movement to follow up. She'll be able to capitalize on her superior positioning. But if not he'll be able to roll over onto his side, giving her his back for a split second before twisting to his feet.

Thankfully for Matt, Sunny wasn't practiced at capitalizing on such a move. Well…not in any other way besides slinging her weight down into a punch that would be a little less than sporting. Instead she twists up to her own feet and backs up, hands raised defensively out of instinct as if ready for an attack…then she lets them fall with a laugh and shakes her head.
"We're gonna be at this all night," she jests, stretching her arms over her head for a moment and grinning. "I hope you don't have somewhere to be. You're better than me…but I did say I was stubborn, didn't I?"

"Ehn, we'll see if you last that long," Matt again pushes a calloused hand through his hair, sliding it back though now it's a bit slick with sweat and effort. His eyes remain closed as he rises fully to his feet, sweat pants catching a little and riding up his leg exposing the firm calf as he straightens up.
A few steps forward and he reaches out again, crouching low and lightly slapping at her hands as she extends them, countering the first few moves each of them try to take. "I'll have you saying uncle in no time." Though really that… was probably just bravado.
Then he drops low and rushes in, seeking to catch the backs of her knees quickly and hoping to pull them up, seeking to throw her onto her back as he twists and rolls to the side, trying to get her face down upon the mats.
It's a quick technique, wickedly fast and usually ending with a person not sure what is going on as they feel pressure in their legs as if he was seeking to pull one of those long ones back and lock it with the other… only for that to be a distraction to get one's opponent to rise…
Where she'll feel Matt fall across her back, slipping an arm across her throat and trying to yank back to get her in a choke hold from behind.

It was a low technique, clever and creative…but Sunny was on her feet now rather than crouched or rolling around on the ground. It might be lower than expected, since she'd probably expected some sort of tackle on her waist, but still moved with a bit more confidence. That stance was firmer, balance better than she had been. When he was at her back, her forearms were already raised and her elbow angled to keep him from tightening the 'noose'. She turns, her other arm keeping her 'inside' and suddenly it was her chest and not her back that was pressed to him.

Of course, whatever discomfort the softness of her chest might prevent, it was probably lessened by the bar of her own forearm trying to find his throat, slip around and pull him into a much more 'bar room' headlock. Dirty, but at least she didn't try and headbutt him first!

For a time they struggled and he surrendered that initial grip, even as she turned. She could feel the heaviness of his breath sliding across the curve of her neck, warm and strong even as he strained against her shift. His arm slipped around the small of her back and he tried to link arms behind her, attempting to foul her headlock as he sought to try a frontal choke, his shoulder and side of his head digging into her neck attempting to cut off the flow of blood…
Only for him to wince slightly, probably lost in the heat of the moment even as he shifted his legs against hers, one entwining with her own. But the subtle 'give' of his shoulder caused him to lose grip and she was able to solidify her own headlock from the front. One hand grabbed at her forearm trying to break her grip, though in truth… she was much stronger than him.

Competition was pretty natural to Sunny. She was a showoff by nature, the sort who had literally stepped out for 'pistols at high noon' in her life despite the foolishness and impracticality of it. A challenge was just more motivation for her…and yet, that shift and subtle weakness has her pausing, frowning a little even with him pressed against her and the hand reaching for her neck. She'd seen the injury earlier, noticed the 'step' it had caused him to lose…now it was giving her a window and she kind of felt bad for it.

"Ah hell…"

It's barely a breath, a whisper most wouldn't notice, particularly locked against someone's hip and wrapped up in their arm… but she lets him go. Sort of anyway.

Her hand releases him, perhaps over-balancing the man for a moment before her other hand attempts to simply grab him by the shoulder and pull him back against her own form. It might look like an imitation of what he'd attempted on her…but it wasn't quite right. Truthfully? It was merely for the contact made for a moment.

Matt being blind and with the pair of them alone, there was no witness to the flare of light that errupted from within Sunny, but for the Daredevil's touch he'd almost certainly sense that flare of heat and warmth akin to summer sunlight through the a window…and the stiffness of that shoulder melting away under a literally healing light.

The moment it was done? Her fingers slip and loosen a little. -That- seemed to take more effort than even the fighting so far!

At the shift of her grip he had been getting ready to pull her with, draw her across him as he fell onto his back, letting her get the superior position for the moment. But he felt that blaze of heat, sensed that light, and then that pleasant release of the pain and pressure of that injury. It's enough that he stops fighting for the moment, leaving her astride him with his left leg curled over one of hers.
His hands were lifted up grabbing her shoulders just above her athletic top, and likely planned to execute some other move. But he holds there and tilts his head slightly as he asks, "Did you… did you do something?"
And to some it might seem strange, for the blond beauty to be astride him while they're both breathing hard, but really it's not out of the ordinary at all. That light, however…
"My shouler feels better." He cocks an eyebrow.

A breath, a long one to fill her lungs and Sunny eases back to sit while her hands slip to rest in her lap. The light had faded, or 'withdrawn' perhaps, but the girl herself just shrugs her shoulders. At least he'd feel it if his hands hadn't moved away yet. "Gave it a good stretch? A good warmup is important…" she suggests lightly. Not everyone was a liar or lawyer by nature and experience respectively.

Topic switched, she actually moves like she intended to stand up and lifts one hand across her self to seek it. She was trying to offer him a hand up while she spoke. "How about a drink break?" the offer comes, "Little water, then we can get back to it if you're still feeling confident?"

Baiting always seemed to work on her, she'd simply have to hope it did the same for another!

"So you're giving up then?" Matt says even though his smile might imply he's just teasing. He does extend a hand up towards where her hand was but a little off. Though he does touch her gently, and then with her aid rises to his feet. Once that's done he does test his shoulder again, rubbing at it with one hand and hrming to himself softly.
"Sure, let's get something to drink. I have some water in my gym-bag if you'd like?" And as he says that he tilts his head around, then takes a deep breath. For some reason that helps him gauge where he is and he moves toward where he left his gear. A few steps and he's there.
Crouching over it he unzips the bag and produces a bottle of water that he extends towards her, "Knock yourself out. Since I seem to be having a hard time doing it."

"Never," she counters, grinning a little as she starts to step towards her own bag, but his offer beats her to it and she shrugs, stealing a sip for herself and then offering it back. "But I guess I like to draw things out before you're unable to continue, otherwise that's the night over." She shrugs, tilting her head to the side as she regards the man at his jest. "I gotta admit, I expected you to be good, practice and all…but you're like…almost super-powers good. You're not a mind-reading mutant who can see what I'm going to try before I try it are you? Because that would be cheating."

Says the 'Sun goddess' who'd been grappling with a blind guy.

A small laugh slips from him as he takes a sip from the bottle, not minding that they're sharing it. He shakes his head and then lifts it up to pour some onto his head and for him to thrust his fingers through his wild mane of hair now. Shaking it a little not unlike a dog, he grabs a towel nearby and dries off before he murmurs. "I'm not, though I am curious what's going on inside your head."
For various reasons assuredly. He tilts his head sideways and murmurs, "You're very strong, though. With some training you'd be a terror." He stands up, streeeetching as he steps forward again back onto the mats though not getting down into stance yet. "I'm ready when you are." He turns back and looks to her, hands on his hips as he waits.

"I never skip breakfast and I do plenty of push-ups, situps and all…" Sunny grins and then turns her way towards the direction of the mat and then glances over her shoulder towards Matt with a laugh. "My head?" she repeats and then bounces on her feet once more. "I mean, you're welcome to ask if you like…"

As for training, she gives a little giggle. "A terror? Maybe. But I'm also not above whacking someone over the head with a chair if I had to be."

"Mmmhmm," Matt Murdock isn't buying that one, but if she wants to keep secrets, she can. After all he has a few of his own. But he settles down into stance, and extends a hand towards her, lightly touching knuckles as if offering good luck before a fight. Then he smiles and murmurs, "So feel free to give me a running commentary in what's going on in that head of yours."
And as he says that he ducks low coming in at her again, though she's ready for it this time and likely slips to the side and pushes him out of the way. But he's able to at least get one hand upon her wrist so he can maintain where she is.
But when she grabs for him he'll try and twist to the side himself and abruptly kicks at the back of her knee to try and steal her balance from her as he moves behind.

"Running commentary?" she repeats, a laugh from her lips. "Starting with 'this is fun' and ending with 'would it be wrong to beat up a blind guy?'" of course, it's said in jest before they're back into the fray.
His move is good, even she has to bow to physics and she drops before bringing her other foot forward to catch herself in a kneel with a heavy thud. When he moves behind her however? She's tipping onto her side and trying to roll for some distance much as she'd seen him do…albeit with less practice or smoothness. She much prefered a straight-up, stand-up and -facing- her foe fight.

"Now," she breathes, "A tasteless joke about someone prefering things from behind!"

"See," Matt's voice is amused as he leaps as she hits the ground, trying to land a knee in the small of her back, but she rolls out of the way just in time. He lands upon the mats with a /whumpf/ and that likely would have hurt a bit. When she rises back to her feet and resets to face him, he's gaining his feet and smiles slightly off and away from her as he replies, "I knew I liked something about you."
He ducks a little to the side as he moves towards her again, and his breathing is steady as his hands find her shoulders. For a time their foreheads are close, resting against each other as they each get ready and focus, their breath mingling as they enjoy the contest of each other. "To be fair, you're the one that's been trying to get on top of me the whole time."
And as he says that, perhaps trying to distract her, he'll drop low and twist trying to pull her off and to the side where he can land and plant a foot over her, attempting to sit astride on her chest much as she tried earlier.

A chuckle comes as she backs up, again trying to stay on her feet as she comes up to a crouch and then…

He's sweeping her much as she had earlier. "Son of a-!" the blonde begins before her hands come up as he comes to the mount, instinctive protecting of her face from some expected punching that doesn't come. Too many brawls!

Left pinned there for a moment, there's laughter that vibrates through the contact. "Suppose -I- do like to be on top," she muses before she pushes off and then tries to seize around his neck for another headlock.

Instinctively the move is to tuck in and lower his center of gravity, to force her shoulder back to the mats and get her in a worse position than he is. But she's got such a strength behind her movements, such an intensity, that she's able to pull past that attempt, pushing him to the side and able to get him on his hands and knees upon the mats where from there she slithers an arm around his throat.
With that strength she can either maintain the grip there and tighten the hold, or pull him up and back against her chest where she can get the other arm into play as well, to go for a sleeper lock or rear naked choke. Either way…
It's going to be hard for him to counter.

Many choices…but not quite enough experience to know them all, the hold tightens and she grins, squeezing enough to be felt and then some. "Now I'm wandering…tap out or pass out?"

She's teasing, but the blonde woman wasn't relenting either, "Not that I want to explain why I'm alone with some unconcious stranger!"

Many choices…but not quite enough experience to know them all, the hold tightens and she grins, squeezing enough to be felt and then some. "Now I'm wandering…tap out or pass out?"

She's teasing, but the blonde woman wasn't relenting either, "Not that I want to explain why I'm alone with some unconcious stranger!"

Up on her own knees to keep position, even now it was fairly clear she was relying on that strength over the skill Murdock had in spades. A more trained practitioner wouldn't give him leverage, a more vicious fighter wouldn't rely on only the simple choke and would lock him down…and as he no doubt finds the gap to try and wriggle free? She's left to scramble to try and make up the mistake. With a grunt of effort and a fruitless shift of her arm, Sunny is simply left to 'fall' on his back, trying to use her weight alone in the fleeting chance to recover the hold. Strength however, didn't equate with mass.

It was all part of a sequence of movements as he wasn't able to tell her with her arm around his throat. But he held onto that arm, one hand tight upon her elbow, then as he moved and she tried to fall upon his back he turned and cut her legs out from under her with a rough /knee/ slamming hard into the back of them. It's enough to get her to go down as she loses her grip and then he'll try and catch her neck in a scissor-hold, the crook of one knee over her throat and the other underneath while he pulls her arm back against his chest and holds on tight.
He clears his throat and says low, sharply as he's straining, "See this… is why you don't just try and choke someone from the side." Then he flexes his hips and turns them just so to make it all the more uncomfortable for her.

Truth being told, this was probably the most struggle she'd had with a 'fist fight', even if they weren't punching and trying to kill each other. Clearly, even with her life she still had plenty to learn…also, apparently she did need air too, because this wasn't really looking that comfortable for her either.

There's a moment when her fingers are digging into his leg, painful enough that she might nearly have replaced the bruise she healed up before she relaxes. Even she hasn't -completely- forgotten her cover, but it was a lot harder to hide 'touch' rather than a bright light from a blind person.

"Uh-huh…" she mutters back through clenched teeth, hissing a litttle with effort and then turning a little…before biting down on Matt's leg. Some instincts can't quite be completely shut down after all! Still, should the sting probably gave her enough of a gap for her to wedge her arms in between and try and create space to squirm free. "I'll…remember that…"

At that bite she'll see him wince even as it's hard enough to pinch the skin /hard/ through the fabric of his sweat pants. He releases, unhooking his ankles and pulls away, letting her free as he rolls up and back from her, stumbling a step as he plants his hands on the mats, trying to brace himself.
One hand rubs at the spot on his inner thigh as he grimaces then tilts his head her way, "That's a bit of cheating," Then again no such thing as cheating in a fight. In a sparring match, sure. But fight? Nope.
Though perhaps he assumed she would be comfortable just getting free. If she's trying to push and chase after him she'll have a moment where his back is towards her as he rises, pushing himself to his feet and then starting to turn to face her, hands coming back up as he makes himself ready.

Truth be told, this -was- a learning experience for Sunny. A humbling one, certainly, but she was still learning enough to put something into practice. She had been cheating, and it didn't stop with the bite. Now she was moving faster, faster than it should be possible, but the impatience was building within her. Her hands seize his wrist, her body twists, her legs come around to wrap and she attempts to push him downwards and backwards. Legs across his chest, arm between her thighs and leaning backwards to lift her hips; she was mirroring his hold he'd used on her!
It wasn't perfect, but she was making use of her strength to cover the lacking in proper technique as she kept the hold. "I never said I wouldn't cheat!" she points out with a laugh, but even between her noises of enjoyment there was clear noises of effort and she was breathing noticably harder than when she began.

Once she darts in there's not much he can do as she grabs his wrist and pulls him off balance, then levers it against her thigh and drops backwards. He hits the mats hard with a /whumpf/ even as she brings his arm up and gets her legs in place, one across his neck and the other across his chest. Then when she lifts with her hips he grimaces.
For a moment he turns his head and she'll feel hims /straining/ the taut bicep of his arm bunching firmly, well defined and powerful yet her grip was all the stronger. His jaw clenches and this close they can feel the heat of effort and the blaze of skin against skin. His breath rough and ragged as he takes a deep draw of breath.
His free hand grabs at the back of her knee where she presses it against his neck and he tries to stab fingertips into that pressure point there. Not tapping right yet, not unless she can prove she can endure that pain as well as how serious she is about getting this win.

It hurt…just not enough to stop her. Eventually, he'd have to tap out by sheer discomfort simply because her own arms are unmoving, like being stuck in concrete. They wouldn't increase pressure, but they wouldn't lower the pressure either until he finally stopped. At this point? She was sweating, stray locks of her practically blazingly bright hair had come loose and cast over her face wildly in movement. Only after he tapped would she release him, only then would she fall back with a laugh and blow one of those stray strands out of her face. "So Matt…how about a drink?"

Wincing and rubbing at his arm, Matt rolled up to sit there beside her, grimacing a little. "Sure, more water?" He says as he reaches a hand over to find hers and give it a small squeeze and then says, "But good match. Some more training and you'll be dangerous to someone other than yourself." His smile is wry as he then pushes himself to his feet and rubs at his brow with his forearm, clearly having exerted himself a lot.
He takes a few steps back towards the bench-seat where he left his gear, drops onto it and then reaches over to pull out that water bottle. A sip is taken, then he pours a little more on top of his head.
"Here," He offers as he extends the bottle in her direction.

Pulling herself up towards sitting, closing her eyes and giving a little laugh. "Not quite what I mean," Sunny murmers, shaking her head and then sliding her hands up to try and capture her rebellious hair before she gives up. Pulling at the tie holding the rest, she lets it all spill free over her shoulders before pulling herself to her feet. "I was thinking the kind that generally comes up in a bar and leads to people getting -less- hydrated. If you felt like it, unless it's not your thing…"

Tilting her head to the side, she makes to sit on the bench and laugh softly. "That really was good fun after all, I figure that's worth the celebration. Even if it undoes the workout a little."

Matt's brows lift and he laughs a little, "Oh. Oh man, I'm sorry." His features colour faintly as he shakes his head, clearly a little embarrassed. "But yeah, sure…" He reaches down to his gymbag and draws it into his lap where he withdraws his watch and his cellphone. He'll swipe a thumb across the cellphone to activate it and he extends it towards her, "If you wouldn't mind…"
It's a fairly straight forward phone and he has it opened towards his contacts list, "Could put your number in there and then give me a call?" His smile is warm and pleasant, though still a little embarrassed. He brushes fingertips over the braille face of his watch, the variable surface displaying the time. "I… should probably get home. I have time enough to get a shower. But another time?"
And with that, the two of them might well be considered friends.

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