line up your soldiers one final time

[usavatar]

WHO: Steve Rogers and Others/Open.
WHERE: Various.
WHEN: The past week and a half or so.
WARNINGS: N/A
SUMMARY: STEVE DOES THINGS AND PEOPLE HAPPEN.
FORMAT: Any.



See below for threadstarters, and feel free to add anything you'd like - I'm totally open to CR.

Comments

[usavatar]

[He's in a rhythm now, sunk into the satisfaction of raw knuckles slamming into canvas. The whistling draws him out of it as he hauls back to give the thing a proper punch, and Steve stops abruptly, oozing sweat with his fist in the air.

He lowers his hands slowly, not sure what to make of Clint's look - but that's par for the course with this man, it seems. Steve huffs hair out of his face and blinks away lines of sweat.]

Does no one else use the place this early?

[trickshot]

_{( Clint’s arms settle across his chest and blinks, like he only just realized he was staring. This Steve… he doesn’t fight like Clint’s Steve would. Oh, the basics are the same. The movements, the style. But this Captain Rogers clearly doesn’t have the years of street-level hand-to-hand that Commander Rogers back home did. It startles Clint, despite his academic knowledge of the fact that this Steve just came out of the ice a few months ago. )}

Not the girls, definitely. You couldn’t pay Jen to get out of bed this early.

I’m usually… other places.

[usavatar]

With your bow, you mean. [He unwinds a loose bit of the binding on his hands and starts to wrap it up again.] Is there a range here, or do you practice off-base?

[trickshot]

_{( Clint leans against the doorframe. )}

It's out back. Tony had it built, before I even got here.

Who knew he was sentimental, right. _{( That would be a question, except that Steve wouldn't know anyway, at least not about this Tony. )}

[usavatar]

[He fiddles with the end of his bandage instead of trying to come up with an answer to the statement.] You want a sparring partner, or do you prefer to work alone?

[trickshot]

_{( Clint huffs out a laugh, suddenly all false bravado. )}

Think you can take me, Tenderfoot? _{( He looked up boy scout ranks so he could give Steve a new nickname, yes. )}

[usavatar]

[ Vous excusez. Steve's nose wrinkles at the nickname, but he doesn't comment, and instead moves to the open padded area clearly meant for the kind of work they're going to do.]

I guess we'll see.

[trickshot]

<sub>( Clint laughs, and from there it's a matter of slipping into routine. Heading for the training mats, bracing himself and lifting his hands as he settles into a basic stance.

He beckons Steve over. )</sub>

[usavatar]

[He approaches with their last fight in mind, calling up his memory of the way Clint moved, which side he led with, which were his strongest blows - and he goes for the man's off-side with a kidney punch.]

[trickshot]

_{( It's not what he was expecting, or how his Steve would have started, but Clint's reflexes kick in and he manages to shift away from the blow before it hits directly. He counters by swinging for Steve's jaw. )}