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(Setting) West Port Boxing Gym
| >The door to the gym slowly opened as a tall figure wearing a massively oversized white puffer coat—so oversized that they looked more like a cloud than anything else—gingerly stepped in.
"H-hello? Is, umm, are you open for business?"
| >A final punch lands, the noise resonates through the nearly empty Gym as the bag swings for a few seconds before the boxer stops it with his hand. He gives a look to the entrance, seeing the oversized, cloud-looking man.
"I mean. It's open but the owner is out right now, running some errands. He let's me watch then place some times when I come in."
>The boxer starts walking toward the new entrant, pulling his gloves off. As he heard, his hands and arms have a multitude or scars.
| >It was hard to get a good look at him, as his face was obscured behind a surgical mask and a pair of opaque red wraparound sunglasses/headphones, and his coat covered everything save his head and feet. His hair—styled in a massive, feathery, asymmetrical updo—and his boots—awkwardly large, chrome things that looked more like mining drills than footwear—were all that was exposed.
"I see, thank you. I'll just, umm, I'lll just wait then. Pardon my intrusion."
| "I hope you're not here for first day lessons, I can say that. Your gear is way too bulky and constricting."
>The Boxer states shaking his head. He crossed his arms as he looks the new entrant over.
"or do you have some other business with Old Man Gerald?"
| "Huh? Oh no, I was actually looking for somewhere to get some practice in without having to worry about hurting anyone. The building I live in has plenty of gyms, but they're tailored to people who just want to stay in shape and maybe learn a little elementary self-defense for peace of mind. I, uhh, how should I put this... I need something a little more 'high-impact', I guess you could say."
| "Ahh, I get ya. I'm pretty similar in that respect. The old guy here is pretty nice, for the most part and let's you kinda do what you want, so long as you don't bother anyone or hurt yourself too bad."
>The Boxer outreaches his hand for a shake.
"Name's Markus. I actually do a lot of other Martial Arts, so I change my regiment daily on what to practice."
| >Another man walks in, slamming the door of the gym open. Slightly cringing at the sound, indicating he didn't mean for the door to swing so hard. He eyed his surroundings with no expression, content with what he saw in his own way, until his face landed on the man in white. He smirked very slightly; his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"... What are you wearing?"
>Afterwards he eyed the boxer, tilting his head as an apology for the interruption.
"This is a boxing gym correct?"
| >>62539
>The Boxer named Markus left his hand extended for a second, looking at the new entrant.
"You got that right. The owner is out at the moment, but he's left new in charge, in a way while he runs errands."
>He finally pulls his hand back and scratches his head with a small chuckle.
"I'm surprised though. This place is usually pretty quiet."
| >The man in white was about to shake Markus' hand when he was startled by the slamming door. He spun around to find the source of the noise, then took a deep breath when he realized it was just anothercustomer customer.
"How pathetic, I must be more on edge than I thought..."
>He said to no one in particular.
| "I used to go here with my father, he used to train here and, if this is the place, your owner might recognise me. I'm here to pick up the habit however, not relive memories."
>He turned his face to the man in white once again. And extended his hand awkwardly.
"Lucian. What's your story?"
>He said eyeing his get-up one last time
| Oh, umm..."
>The man in white shook Lucian's hand.
"Lennart. I was just here to get some practice, but seeing as both of you seem busy and there's no one else here, I, ah, I should probably just come back some other time. Sorry to interrupt."
| >Markus smiles a little, giving a small laugh.
"Busy? Oh no, I'm killing time and getting some stress off. I recently gained a new roommate so I'm letting her have some space to herself to get accustomed to the new place."
>He scratches his head a little.
"Honestly, I can train you guys, since Old Gerald is out, but I'd need to know what I'm working with."
| >he nods
Well I've only learned the basics when I was a kid. Left home after that and eventually took a liking to weapons in lieu of fists. Just treat me as a beginner with an occasional good jab...
>he set his jaw, debating with himself for a second before quickly eeking out his thoughts:
How's Gerald? I left too suddenly to know what became of his wife, or him, for that matter.
| >>63558
"I get ya. Honestly, I wasn't expecting you to be really well trained, but I can work with anyone, really. I should let you know I'm not just a Boxer either, if you'd prefer a more balanced style, but we can at least start with basics."
>Markus nods as he speaks.
"And with Gerald... well... I believe his wife is ill in old age, as far as I can infer. A lot of his running around for Errands is for her, which explains why this place is closed a lot lately."
| "Balanced will be great actually. Whatever you think is best.
And I recall his wife being rather quick to get colds and the like. Shit like that gets harder when you get old, for both parties in this case."
>Lucian nods his head absent mindedly and turns his head to Lennart.
"Marshmallow, you can stay if you want to practice. I won't get in your way. If I do I'll see you coming, trust me."
>Lucian says chuckling to himself
| "Cool, thanks! Do you have somewhere I can get changed?"
>Lennart removed his glasses and surgical mask, revealing his unusually large eyes and sharp, sharklike teeth.
| "Yeah, Lennart, shower room is through the open area on the back wall."
>As Markus says, there's an open doorway on the far wall showing the Male/Female signs to indicate the Locker Rooms.
>He himself had taken note of the differing features, but didn't seem too perturbed by the reveal, keeping his smile, as he walked a little away from the entrance, stretching his arms, and turned his attention to Lucian.
| "And that's Perfect. Since my old master taught me how to really utilize every part of my body for fights, I really could recommend anything else."
| (Couldn't *)
| >Lucian glances at Lennart, not too perturbed by his features. Reminding him of those old world cartoon kid stickers. Or japanese animations. He turned back to Markus.
"Well I always think it's best to know a little bit of everything. Even if you don't excel."
>Lucian ran his hands through his black hair and jerked his thumb toward the locker room.
"Alright if I start today?"
| "Great, I'll be right back!"
>Lennart hurried into the locker rooms as fast as his boots allowed. Which was faster than might be expected given their unusual shape, but not terribly quick.
| "I'm alright with starting you guys today. It's mostly just going to be checking how much training you guys will need though."
>Markus turns back giving a thumbs up to Lucian as he waits for Lennart. He brings his left leg back behind him, putting his arms over his head and stretches his leg pulling on it from above before repeating it on the other leg.
| >Lucian goes to the locker room on Markus' signal. Changing out of his coat and protective gear underneath which, he admits, has become heavier upon his recent move into Glitch City. He got into more appropriate gear and sat on one of the benches, putting his weather beaten combat boots next to him. The next words that came out of his mouth was aimed at Lennart:
"I'm guessing you're a designer? One of those abstract ones that I wouldn't understand, right?"
| “Is it that obvious?”
>Lennart began unbuttoning and unzipping his coat while his boots, seemingly of their own accord, slid open at the heel, allowing him to step out of them. His feet-or more accurately, flippers-were semi-digitigrade, like cross between a seal and a velociraptor.
“I mean, I didn’t think this outfit was *too* outlandish. It was really cold when I left home this morning, so I dressed for warmth. Isn't that what you're supposed to do when the weather is bad?”
| >A stranger watches the happenings from the other side of the door, hovering near the glass but in no way glued to it. Looks like they want to walk away, but.. It's not happening.
| >Perhaps they appeared after the two went to change, the lone boxer waiting in their stead. Whoever it is definitely wasn't there before.
| >>65875
>The Lone Boxer turns back around, finishing up his stretching and looks directly out of the Boxing Gym, his eyes more intense and stern than previously seen. He scans the outside area of the Gym, after feeling the pair of eyes.
| >Lucian shrugged.
"Well I guess so. If there's one thing I'm bad at it's fashion, so don't let me tell you otherwise."
>Lucian points at his clothing, all pieces different shades of black or blue and some light pieces of armour to boot.
"As you can see, Assassin clothes are never glamorous."
>Lucian suddenly gets a bizarre gut feeling, making him feel like something was wrong. He silently reached into his coat to take out a cigarette and lighter.
"You mind?"
| >..Silence.
| >>66518
The Boxer keeps his gaze at the window, tensing up slightly as the noise happens. He takes a couple of steps toward the entrance door, being cautious in case of anything that could happen.
| >Lucian's ears perk up at the sound dulled by the door, the odd feeling in his gut worsening. He looks at Lennart to confirm if he heard it too. With his unlit cigarette still in his mouth he leaves the locker room, palming a throwing knife from his boot.
>He sees Markus near the entrance. Unsure if he could speak without startling him, he whistled short and low-- an old warning signal he was used to using. Admittedly, a bizarre idea, but he did it more on instinct than anything.
| >Markus stops at the sound, raising his left hand and closing it into a fist, skewing he understands the call and his presence.
>As you'd look, however his demeanor is far more serious than shown, with a probably familiar aura about him. He then steps in a specific way, the foot fall particularly loud as it feels like the ground rumbles gently, shockwaves shooting all around for him to read the full situation both inside and out of the Gym.
| >With the man's abilities, he finds a result. Outside the gym is.. A kneeling figure.
| >Markus, the Boxer slides the foot he stepped with across the floor, which will cause a vicious, sharp shift in the concrete underneath the kneeling figure, preferring to keep himself inside versus engaging outside in the street.
| >There's barely any time to react before the unexpected action occurs. They lose balance quite easily and seem to be tossed to the ground. There's a muffled clatter..
| "Well... whatever it is it's reflexes aren't much to worry about..."
>Markus keeps himself ready as he approaches the entrance slowly, still prepared.
"Hey, you alright out there?"
He calls just as he reaches the door.
| "PPPPROIN~! Would you like to set a reminder for that?"
>..Huh?
| >The Boxer has a small look of confusion on his face, but ignores the sound as he grabs hold of door and steps outside into the cold, finally, to check what was outside the Gym.
"Hey, are you okay out here?"
| >Lucian joins Markus outside, ignoring the cold and lighting his cigarette with the lighter he absentmindedly pocketed with his other hand. All the while silently chuckling at the sound of the alarm.
| >The two find difficulty getting outside as there is a large strapped bag in the way. Out of it spills various paraphernalia from an unzipped mouth.
| >To their immediate left is.. A man? Yes, a man. He's peeling himself off the sidewalk, picking up a phone that seems to have been trapped under his person - Maybe that was where all the noise had come from?
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| >Sitting at the corner edge of the District near the ocean, is a old gym once known for training a number of prestigious boxers.
>It is being occupied by a single patron right now. He bobs and weaves with an expert precision, landing powerful hooks, jabs and straights. The heavy bag he was working on was swinging greatly with each punch.
>The man is wearing a grey tank top and loose black pants, hands covered by protective old-style MMA gloves.