Private The Slups Don’t Hold Your Punches.

[Jill (The Beast)]

(Private thread with @Sean Wicke)

CLANG!

A cast-iron pan slammed against The Mask, sending deafening waves of sound echoing around within its small confines, blasting out Jill’s eardrums. Her head pounded. Her whole world seemed to shimmer and warp within the confines of her vision, her body wobbling as she struggled to maintain her body.

She looked shakily at her opponent, the intimidating black wildcat. Her ears were still ringing, and yet she heard Mask taunting her. You’re weak, Jill. You’ll never be the hero you want to be. Not unless you get stronger.

I’m not Jill. I’m The Beast. They steadied themselves and stood in a fighting stance, legs spread and fists raised ready for another blow.

 

[Sean Wicke]

Sean paced as the Beast recovered from the blow. "When you're dazed, you need to move to safety," he warned, "even when you can't tell up from down. You need time to recover; your enemy won't give you that. Now, when I hit you again, move. Get yourself out of my reach." He waited for the Beast to stop swaying, then he swung again at their head.

 

[Jill (The Beast)]

The Beast ducked under his blow, and they jumped backwards, their feet digging into the pavement and kicking up small pebbles. Their black cape fluttered behind them. It was all very dramatic for no apparent reason. The Beast raised their fists again, pacing in tempo with Sean this time. Their eyes glinted behind the slits of the Mask.

 

[Sean Wicke]

Sean straightened from his swing, watching as the Beast dodged. "Good," he remarked, allowing them to feel their success. "The best way to deal with a blow that you can't safely block and you can't just absorb is to dodge it. Keep moving, keep your opponent on the attack. The longer they're attacking, the more unbalanced they become, which will give you openings. I'm going to come after you; avoid my blows, and look for your opening."

He lunged, swinging fiercely at his protégé, each lunge taking him more and more away from his balanced stance as he moved after them.

 

[Jill (The Beast)]

Beast was already panting slightly as they kept skipping back with each swing, until they were backed into a wall, and that’s when they attacked. Placing their back paw firmly against the wall, they lunged forward, hand curled into a fist as they slammed it into Sean’s face with all their might,

 

[Sean Wicke]

Sean had been expecting the blow, and he relaxed, turning his face and rolling with the punch. Still, he stepped back, his paw going up to his face to check for a nosebleed. "Good one," he commented. "You used your environment to your advantage; I was going to wait to teach you that. Once you have a foe reeling, you have a short window in which to press your attack before they recover. Unless you're sure you can bring them down in a few blows, don't follow up more than twice," he warned. "The more you attack, the more you become unbalanced as well, and you give them opportunities to recover and counter. You're better off falling back into a defensive position. Especially when fighting a crowd, you can't become focused on taking down one beast and make yourself an easy target for the rest.

"Now, let's try it," he instructed. "I'm going to press you; dodge or block as you can, then counter-attack when you have your window. This time, keep pressing the attack, but get ready to fall back when I recover - otherwise I'll be back on the attack again." He gave only a moment for his instructions to sink in before he was swinging once more, this time a little quicker than he had before. If the AffecSeanados came after him and the Beast was around, they wouldn't pull their punches, and he only had a scant few months to train the Beast before both their survival would be tested - and if he failed, he wouldn't be there to train her after.

 

[Jill (The Beast)]

Beast started to dodge again, their breath quickening, and labored. Seemed they needed to work on their stamina. They did the same tactic as before, ducking and weaving as Sean swung at her. They were good, but as his fist connected with their stomach- well… they needed some work. Though they used the momentum of Sean’s blow to react with her own, punching him two times squarely in the jaw before jumping back. She stood her ground again, signing to Sean.

Come at me.

 

[Sean Wicke]

As the two blows connected with his jaw, Sean felt it dislocate, and he pulled away from the attack, working it gingerly. He had to put his paws to his face and force the jaw back into a position with a sharp pang. "Good one," he remarked, testing to make sure the bone wouldn't pop out of alignment again. "If you can't prevent taking a blow, make your opponent pay for it.

"Now," he instructed, "absorbing a blow is another matter. If you can't dodge, you need to learn how to deflect and how to endure. You're smaller; even with armor beneath that robe, the force it still going to hit you hard. When I hit you, you'll have to turn so that the blow slides off you; turn with it, not against it. Understand?"

He lunged, aiming for the Beast's side, testing their response.

 

[Jill (The Beast)]

Beast grunted heavily as his fist slammed into her hip, and they did their best to turn ‘with’ the blow. Still, they were tossed back by the force of it. They stumbled backwards and slammed into the brick wall behind them, the air being pushed out of their chest. They doubled over, gasping in pain, but quickly stood back up. Beast hadn’t fully recovered from the attack, but they didn’t want to show weakness in front of Sean. They wanted to be strong. For him. For all the kits. For the sake of being able to dispense the justice that this city needed. This city needed the Beast. The Beast needed to be strong.

“I’m okay. I’m okay. Keep going.” Beast signed, despite their heavy wheezing.

“You’re not okay. You’re clearly overwhelmed. You need rest.” The Mask spoke within Jill’s mind.

You’re the one who said I was weak, Mask. Beast shook her head. I need to train more.

 

[Sean Wicke]

Sean hesitated just a moment, considering backing off and giving the Beast a moment to recover... but no, he decided. No one else would give them that opportunity; if they were to survive as a vigilante, or even get through a single Beat-a-Sean Day by his side, they would need to be prepared. He'd learned how to survive a beating by taking uncountable blows, even winding up hospitalized a few times. If the Beast was to become unbreakable, then he had to push them to the breaking point first.

He surged, striking at their sides, their shoulders, their snout - all places where a well-timed turn could mitigate what would otherwise be a painful blow. Pain, as Seangent Shaughnessy had once told him, was the greatest teacher one could have, and only a fool ignored its lessons. The Beast was no fool.

 

[Jill (The Beast)]

Beast rolled with the punches as best they could. The one benefit of the Mask was that their head was protected, though each blow caused stunning reverberations to echo around them. They stumbled back, trying to block each strike, but it was too much for them. Jill’s mind flashed back to some years ago, when she had been cornered by a shopkeeper and brutally thrashed for stealing a loaf of bread.

Never again. With a guttural shout, Beast lunged forward, head-butting Sean and sending them to the ground.

Never again. Beast threw themself on top of Sean before he could recover, raining down strike after strike onto his snout.

Never again. They kept punching, until their fists were bloodied.l, until their paws ached.

Never again. Beast raised their fist once more, their arm trembling, and they stopped… seemingly unable to bring themselves to deliver another blow.

Never again. Jill stumbled back, her breath hitched, muffled sobs escaping from deep within her chest.

“You will never be weak again.“ Mask reassured her, though Jill did not regard them. She shook her head, quickly taking her key and unlocking The Mask, before pulling it away and gasping for air.

“I’m sorry, Sean…” Jill managed to whimper. “I’m sorry…”

 

[Sean Wicke]

Sean had been caught off-guard by the sudden surge of rage. It put all of his own training to the test, trying to turn his face in order to make sure the blows landed where they would do the least amount of damage. Even then, he was sure he had more than a few cuts and scrapes, and would have some impressive bruises in the morning. When Jill pulled away, taking off her mask to gasp for air, Sean waited a moment to recover his own senses before gingerly sitting up. He put his paw up to his cheek, coming away with blood. Whose blood, he couldn't say; maybe it was both of theirs.

"I've had worse," he groaned out, carefully checking his teeth with his tongue for any new chips or cracks. There was one painful enough that he'd probably want to see the black market dentist who served the local crime families. Sean pulled out a handkerchief, mopping at the sweat, blood, and grime on his face. "Did a number, though. You've got fight in ya, kid. Gotta know how to keep it under control, though. You lose it in a real fight, with multiple assailants around ya, losing your head will make you lose your life too." He spat out a glob of blood and spittle on the ground, then motioned for Jill to take a seat on the ground near him. "C'mon, lesson's on pause for now. What was going through your head when you snapped?"