*All this, I see, I find
Push the envelope to the line
Make it, break it, take it
Until I'm overrated
Click, click, BOOM!
I'm coming down on the stereo,
Hear me on the radio
Click, click, BOOM!
I'm coming down with a new style,
If you know us both, while (?)
Click, click, BOOM!
I'm on the radion station
Talking to the nation
Leaving a scene of devastation
I can see it in my mind
I can see it in the rhymes (?)
Close enough to touch, and now
Far away enough to die*
*Saliva - Click Click Boom*
Angel drove, of course, to the club where she directed him to the men's room while she changed in the ladies room. When she came out, she was dressed in a sleeveless gi, with a t-shirt underneath. The gi was white, with black trim, and a small black Japanese symbol on the lapel. Her belt was black, and there was no indication of what art it came from. Bryan simply wore kicking jeans and his black gloves, with one of his favorite black t-shirts. Both were barefoot.
Then Bryan saw something on her left bicep. A tattoo. Slowly he reached out and lifted her sleeve, and stared at it hard. She noticed his stare, and her gaze followed his to the black design on her arm. It was an interesting design. Simple, yet powerful. Kinda like two lightning bolts twisted together, or something like that. Something about it pricked a memory buried deep within him. At the last King of Iron Fist Tournament, he had seen someone with a tattoo like that. He looked up to see Angel staring at him with a puzzled look on her face. "Didn't know you had a tattoo," he said quickly. "I like it." Placated, she led him to the aerobics room.
There were five men in the aerobics room. Two pairs stood around talking while a fifth put a techno CD in the CD player. All of them greeted Angel with a mixture of friendliness and respect. They were respectful with good reason; they'd had plenty of experience with her unmatched skills and volitile temper.
First was Erik, the short but powerfully built college student with the techno music. He was also the clown of the bunch, and would lapse into a period of rave-dancing for no reason whatsoever. He was a pretty good dancer. He was also a good grappler, his stocky form the ideal balance of strength and speed. He and Angel started a match almost immediately, his short brown hair blurring as the two circled each other before colliding.
Next was Harry, the soft-spoken man that was also one of the highest-ranking students. In his late thirties, with short, curly brown hair and glasses. He was talking earnestly with a raven-haired man named Billy, who in Angel's opinion was a complete jackass most of the time. He wore a black belt, proof of his mastery of Tae Kwon Do. His skills were dim in comparison to Angel's, however.
Aside from Bryan and Angel, the most striking figure in the room was Rick. He was impossibly tall, 6'7" to be exact, and his blond hair was kept short. He stood head and shoulders above Billy and Harry, grinning like a fool as he laughed at Billy and Harry's jokes and tossing out some one-liners to the dueling pair on the mat. Next to him was the instructor, a short, darkly tanned man with striking silver-white hair. 56 years old, and in the best physical condition that Bryan had ever seen. "Parris is a weird one," Angel had said of her instructor, "but he knows what he's doing."
Angel defeated Erik in a matter of minutes, catching him in a figure-four ankle lock. Erik yelped and pounded the mat, and Angel released him instantly. Then she helped him to his feet, and walked over to Bryan. "This is my brother, Bryan. He's a kickboxer." Properly introduced, Angel left to go pick a fight with Billy.
"Dude, your sister is nuts," Erik confided in the quiet Bryan. Bryan nodded in silent agreement, keeping his eyes on the two combatants. They weren't grappling, it was going to be a standing fight. Billy charged fast with a flurry of kicks to the head, which Angel neatly sidestepped before coming up and burying her elbow in his kidney. He grunted, and stepped back, trying to hit her with a spinning roundhouse. Again she ducked easily and then raised her right foot up, up, up, her body stretching like a rubber band to achieve this incredible height. Her toes curled back as the ball of her foot slammed into his chin.
"Easy, Angel," chided the instructor, Parris. "This is a practice fight, remember? If you hurt your partner, you won't have a partner anymore."
"There's always Bryan," Angel tossed out before leaping to the side as Billy peppered her with quick kicks from his right foot. She blocked and parried before grabbing his foot in midair on her left side and sweeping her right leg around to kick him gently in the ribs. "Bang, you're dead."
Billy accepted defeat graciously, and the two stopped to chat about kicking and blocking techniques. They were soon way over Bryan's head, and he turned to Erik, who asked a few questions about kickboxing. Bryan found himself the center of attention for Harry and Erik as he demonstrated a few of his more powerful kicks. The poor-quality aerobics bag shuddered and threatened to collapse from the force of the blows.
Eager for a fight that he may be able to win, Billy challenged Bryan to a sparring match. Billy was fast, almost as fast as that Korean kid that Bryan had trashed durning the last King of Iron Fist Tournament. Bryan didn't mention this of course, he simply stuck to the same strategy he had used before: blocking until he saw an opening, then rushing forward with a series of punches and elbow strikes. It worked like a charm. Billy was soon fighting exhaustion as this pale-skinned, scarred man kept blocking and rushing. The frightening part was that Bryan never took his eyes away from those of his opponent, and he never blinked. Just that same determined, pissed-off look that told Billy that he would lose the fight.
And he did. In a surprise move, Bryan suddenly ducked down and swept Billy's legs from under him. The move knocked him down hard, and he landed clumsily on his shoulder. He looked up to find the tattooed man staring at him with that same unblinking look in his eyes and his fists still on guard. Something in that gaze rattled the normally unshakable Billy, who acknowledged Bryan as the victor. Bryan smirked, and Angel rushed up and clapped him heartily on the back. "Not bad, Bryan. Not many people can beat Billy."
"Except gray-haired freaks like you," Billy muttered good-naturedly under his breath. Suddenly Bryan's black-gloved hand reached out and wrapped around the fallen man's throat, and raised him to his feet.
"What did you just say about my sister?" Bryan growled, fixing Billy with that same piercing gaze. Angel knew that Billy had been joking, but the joke still hurt, and she looked at him with a mixture of anger and disappointment.
Fear showed in Billy's eyes as he stared into the steel-blue orbs of this pale-skinned monster. The look was akin to a deer caught in the headlights, Angel thought idly. The raven-haired man raised his hands placatingly. "Hey man, just a joke. She knows I'm joking."
Bryan stared Billy into submission, then let him drop back down on the mat. Then he turned to Angel. "Let's go. I'm done here."
They'd only been there for twenty minutes at the most, but the look on Bryan's face left no room for argument. She shot an apologetic look to Billy, clapped Erik on the back in a goodbye, and tossed a few jokes to the remaining men. Outside the room, however, Angel backed her brother against the wall and stared into his eyes. "What the hell was that about?" she glared.
Bryan returned the glare. "He called you a freak."
"He calls me a freak all the time. And I kick his ass for it, too. Just because he was a bit bold tonight doesn't give you the right to go ape-shit all over my friends!"
"You call those friends?" Bryan spat the word like it was a curse.
Angel lowered her eyes. "They're the closest thing to friends that I have," she said quietly. She released him, and headed to the ladies room with Bryan staring after her.
The trip home was completely silent, for the most part. Then she spoke up. "I forgot about asking about that prison guard job."
Bryan turned and looked at her. "Please tell me Billy wasn't the prison guard."
Angel gave a short, dry laugh. "Billy? Hell no, he's an electrician. Big Rick was the prison guard." She snorted. "So much for that idea."
"Yeah, whatever."
Angel looked over and grinned. "Slothful wretch."
Bryan didn't answer.
Push the envelope to the line
Make it, break it, take it
Until I'm overrated
Click, click, BOOM!
I'm coming down on the stereo,
Hear me on the radio
Click, click, BOOM!
I'm coming down with a new style,
If you know us both, while (?)
Click, click, BOOM!
I'm on the radion station
Talking to the nation
Leaving a scene of devastation
I can see it in my mind
I can see it in the rhymes (?)
Close enough to touch, and now
Far away enough to die*
*Saliva - Click Click Boom*
Angel drove, of course, to the club where she directed him to the men's room while she changed in the ladies room. When she came out, she was dressed in a sleeveless gi, with a t-shirt underneath. The gi was white, with black trim, and a small black Japanese symbol on the lapel. Her belt was black, and there was no indication of what art it came from. Bryan simply wore kicking jeans and his black gloves, with one of his favorite black t-shirts. Both were barefoot.
Then Bryan saw something on her left bicep. A tattoo. Slowly he reached out and lifted her sleeve, and stared at it hard. She noticed his stare, and her gaze followed his to the black design on her arm. It was an interesting design. Simple, yet powerful. Kinda like two lightning bolts twisted together, or something like that. Something about it pricked a memory buried deep within him. At the last King of Iron Fist Tournament, he had seen someone with a tattoo like that. He looked up to see Angel staring at him with a puzzled look on her face. "Didn't know you had a tattoo," he said quickly. "I like it." Placated, she led him to the aerobics room.
There were five men in the aerobics room. Two pairs stood around talking while a fifth put a techno CD in the CD player. All of them greeted Angel with a mixture of friendliness and respect. They were respectful with good reason; they'd had plenty of experience with her unmatched skills and volitile temper.
First was Erik, the short but powerfully built college student with the techno music. He was also the clown of the bunch, and would lapse into a period of rave-dancing for no reason whatsoever. He was a pretty good dancer. He was also a good grappler, his stocky form the ideal balance of strength and speed. He and Angel started a match almost immediately, his short brown hair blurring as the two circled each other before colliding.
Next was Harry, the soft-spoken man that was also one of the highest-ranking students. In his late thirties, with short, curly brown hair and glasses. He was talking earnestly with a raven-haired man named Billy, who in Angel's opinion was a complete jackass most of the time. He wore a black belt, proof of his mastery of Tae Kwon Do. His skills were dim in comparison to Angel's, however.
Aside from Bryan and Angel, the most striking figure in the room was Rick. He was impossibly tall, 6'7" to be exact, and his blond hair was kept short. He stood head and shoulders above Billy and Harry, grinning like a fool as he laughed at Billy and Harry's jokes and tossing out some one-liners to the dueling pair on the mat. Next to him was the instructor, a short, darkly tanned man with striking silver-white hair. 56 years old, and in the best physical condition that Bryan had ever seen. "Parris is a weird one," Angel had said of her instructor, "but he knows what he's doing."
Angel defeated Erik in a matter of minutes, catching him in a figure-four ankle lock. Erik yelped and pounded the mat, and Angel released him instantly. Then she helped him to his feet, and walked over to Bryan. "This is my brother, Bryan. He's a kickboxer." Properly introduced, Angel left to go pick a fight with Billy.
"Dude, your sister is nuts," Erik confided in the quiet Bryan. Bryan nodded in silent agreement, keeping his eyes on the two combatants. They weren't grappling, it was going to be a standing fight. Billy charged fast with a flurry of kicks to the head, which Angel neatly sidestepped before coming up and burying her elbow in his kidney. He grunted, and stepped back, trying to hit her with a spinning roundhouse. Again she ducked easily and then raised her right foot up, up, up, her body stretching like a rubber band to achieve this incredible height. Her toes curled back as the ball of her foot slammed into his chin.
"Easy, Angel," chided the instructor, Parris. "This is a practice fight, remember? If you hurt your partner, you won't have a partner anymore."
"There's always Bryan," Angel tossed out before leaping to the side as Billy peppered her with quick kicks from his right foot. She blocked and parried before grabbing his foot in midair on her left side and sweeping her right leg around to kick him gently in the ribs. "Bang, you're dead."
Billy accepted defeat graciously, and the two stopped to chat about kicking and blocking techniques. They were soon way over Bryan's head, and he turned to Erik, who asked a few questions about kickboxing. Bryan found himself the center of attention for Harry and Erik as he demonstrated a few of his more powerful kicks. The poor-quality aerobics bag shuddered and threatened to collapse from the force of the blows.
Eager for a fight that he may be able to win, Billy challenged Bryan to a sparring match. Billy was fast, almost as fast as that Korean kid that Bryan had trashed durning the last King of Iron Fist Tournament. Bryan didn't mention this of course, he simply stuck to the same strategy he had used before: blocking until he saw an opening, then rushing forward with a series of punches and elbow strikes. It worked like a charm. Billy was soon fighting exhaustion as this pale-skinned, scarred man kept blocking and rushing. The frightening part was that Bryan never took his eyes away from those of his opponent, and he never blinked. Just that same determined, pissed-off look that told Billy that he would lose the fight.
And he did. In a surprise move, Bryan suddenly ducked down and swept Billy's legs from under him. The move knocked him down hard, and he landed clumsily on his shoulder. He looked up to find the tattooed man staring at him with that same unblinking look in his eyes and his fists still on guard. Something in that gaze rattled the normally unshakable Billy, who acknowledged Bryan as the victor. Bryan smirked, and Angel rushed up and clapped him heartily on the back. "Not bad, Bryan. Not many people can beat Billy."
"Except gray-haired freaks like you," Billy muttered good-naturedly under his breath. Suddenly Bryan's black-gloved hand reached out and wrapped around the fallen man's throat, and raised him to his feet.
"What did you just say about my sister?" Bryan growled, fixing Billy with that same piercing gaze. Angel knew that Billy had been joking, but the joke still hurt, and she looked at him with a mixture of anger and disappointment.
Fear showed in Billy's eyes as he stared into the steel-blue orbs of this pale-skinned monster. The look was akin to a deer caught in the headlights, Angel thought idly. The raven-haired man raised his hands placatingly. "Hey man, just a joke. She knows I'm joking."
Bryan stared Billy into submission, then let him drop back down on the mat. Then he turned to Angel. "Let's go. I'm done here."
They'd only been there for twenty minutes at the most, but the look on Bryan's face left no room for argument. She shot an apologetic look to Billy, clapped Erik on the back in a goodbye, and tossed a few jokes to the remaining men. Outside the room, however, Angel backed her brother against the wall and stared into his eyes. "What the hell was that about?" she glared.
Bryan returned the glare. "He called you a freak."
"He calls me a freak all the time. And I kick his ass for it, too. Just because he was a bit bold tonight doesn't give you the right to go ape-shit all over my friends!"
"You call those friends?" Bryan spat the word like it was a curse.
Angel lowered her eyes. "They're the closest thing to friends that I have," she said quietly. She released him, and headed to the ladies room with Bryan staring after her.
The trip home was completely silent, for the most part. Then she spoke up. "I forgot about asking about that prison guard job."
Bryan turned and looked at her. "Please tell me Billy wasn't the prison guard."
Angel gave a short, dry laugh. "Billy? Hell no, he's an electrician. Big Rick was the prison guard." She snorted. "So much for that idea."
"Yeah, whatever."
Angel looked over and grinned. "Slothful wretch."
Bryan didn't answer.