Atlas | Vance Cage (newyorkcage) wrote in superbabies, @ 2013-03-31 18:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | jim lee, vance cage |
LOG: rave & hancock
WHO: Jim Lee and Vance Cage
WHEN: Sometime within the last few weeks. Skillfully nondescript.
WHAT: The buddies decide to trade barbs and spar, but this time they take advantage of their powers and abilities.
Vance was living the student’s version of the high life. Every time he called home, his mom was doing well and his dad was still a famous Avenger. Jason’s mom hadn’t killed him, which was great because not even that gorgeous creature could pull off an orange jumpsuit and he was kinda fond of Jason. Then there was the girlfriend. His chocolate covered strawberry. Who called him ‘gigantor’ and wouldn’t let him cop a feel, let alone kiss her, but oh well, things were just starting out.
So maybe his ego was at an eight or a nine. A fair elevation of his own estimability was, of course, in hand. So when he took to the gym after classes one afternoon, the idea of a spar didn’t sound so bad either. He’d pulled Jimmy aside earlier when they were in team practice and asked if he wouldn’t mind being the Apollo to his Rocky. For all the eye-rolling he got from that, the answer was yes. Once in the gym, Vance took to stretches and warming up on the punching bag while waiting for his friend to show up.
True Story: When Vance walked up to him in class and started talking about greek gods and mountains, Jimmy had no idea what the hell was talking about. He was also severely confused. Was Vance trying to say that Jimmy was a god? Sure, it was true, but that was uncharacteristically self-deprecating of the young man. When classes were over, he made sure to get his gym clothes on which mostly consisted of a muscle tee, a pair of sweat shorts, and some sneakers.
He made sure he did what he had to in order to warm up. If he knew Vance at all, he was about ready to go to war which meant he was already warmed up and ready to go. Jimmy was, if not anything else, competitive. Slipping into the gym, he leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms while Vance tried to show the punching bag who was boss. “Don’t tell me all this prep work is for little ole me,” he said after a moment an amused grin on his lips with the most god awful and exaggerated southern accent he could muster.
Vance stopped giving the punching back a what-fer and laughed, turning to address Jimmy. “If I knew I’d be fighting Scarlett O’Hara, I’d have worn something prettier.” As it was, he was practically dressed the same, save for color alterations. “As it is, I don’t think you’re even going to get me to work up a sweat so I thought I’d give you more of a fighting chance.”
He flexed his arms, which would have looked ridiculous if the young man wasn’t so incredibly muscular. “There isn’t a glisten yet, but there will be.”
“Well, Ah do declare.” Jimmy still grinned as he straightened up to close the gap between them, letting his hands rest on his hips once he’d gotten close enough. “Prettier?” He chuckled. “That’s making the assumption that you’re even remotely in the same league as pretty at this very moment, and I’d have to say that’s anything but the case.”
He couldn’t help but shake his head as Vance continued to show off for him as if that was what he needed to do make Jim intimidated. He raised his brows. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” he replied, “you’d be surprised how easily I could make you work up a sweat, Black Dynamite.” He hoped to God Vance knew who that was. If he didn’t, it would be a damn tragedy. “Fairly certain a few rounds with me would leave you more than a little breathless.”
Vance smirked. Of course he was pretty. And obnoxiously handsome. Even Superbuzz! thought so, though they hunka hunka burning love’d anything that had a six pack. In other words, Jimmy was the vast minority of this opinion, joking or not.
“Says you. All the pretty’s going into that smart little mouth of yours. You talk yourself up real big and nice for a guy who needs to face the inevitable fact that you’re going to lose.” But he grinned widely at the Black Dynamite reference. Not only had he seen it, he was still arguing with Bleu that she ought to see it too. Some movies weren’t everyone’s style, sadly.
“Now, come on, and show me what you’re made of.” Vance rounded to the middle of the floor. “Besides a bunch of hot air.”
“Do you often to offer to put your pretty in people’s mouths?” he replied with a laugh. “Because I feel like this might start to become a problem of yours.” He shook his head as Vance ventured toward the middle of the floor. “Oh, I never lose,” he replied, “I’m always on top.” In more ways than one.
“Big talk from the guy with the head the size of an air balloon,” he replied and stretched out his arms and legs just a little bit more before he took his stance. “Do we want to make this a fair fight and say no powers?” He tilted his head. “I know that can be a little hard for you, but hey. I won’t light up your face if you don’t fly or start smashing the floor.” I also promise not to get in your head.
“I could give you a laundry list of people who I’ve offered my pretty to and who’ve accepted.” Vance boasted, cracking knuckles. “Not my fault you’re a day late and a dollar short.” It might have been an innocent expression, sure, but the teenager never took into account how someone else might interpret the ‘dollar short’. “I’ll remind you you said that later when I’ve got you eating mat.”
Smirking, it was a good question. Some of Jimmy’s powers scared the hell out of him and he for one didn’t want anyone in his head. But he couldn’t deny that there was that rush of excitement at the prospect of them fighting it out full powers. They had to be monitored in class and were only allowed so much leeway. With just him and Jimmy, there was all the potential to step outside of that box. “I’m...an idiot.” He prefaced before shrugging. “Let’s go a round with powers and see what it does. It’s not like you’re going to be sending me to the doctors any time soon.”
“From what I hear, the only one who’s always a dollar short is you,” he replied, “always just so close, but never enough to drive it home.” Whether or not that was true, he’d never tell. “We’ll see who’ll be eating what,” he added and waited for the man to decide just how he wanted handle things. When Vance called himself an idiot, Jim couldn’t help but laugh and shrug in response.
“Oh, sure,” he replied, “let’s take the easy way.” He grinned. “Coward. It’s probably for the best.” Jimmy slowly began to circle Vance. “Lord knows you probably wouldn’t stand a chance without your powers to give you that edge, anyway.”
Well. Vance was going to get ready for a brawl, but he just stood upright, his mouth downturned. “Now that’s not fair. You gave me a choice. Besides, aside from flying, I can’t turn my powers off. You make fireworks. Fireworks. You’re a party favor!”
“Hasn’t your girlfriend taught you anything?” he replied with a grin. “That’s a choice and then there’s a choice. Can’t you tell when you’re being tested yet?” He shook his head and tsked. “You’ll learn soon enough.” He found it amusing that most people seemed to devalue his power. Or at the very least, continued to underestimate its usefulness.
“It’s true,” he replied as he snapped his fingers hundreds of sparks exploding in various directions -- luckily small, contained. “They’re great at a party.” He spun his hands around in a circle and a globule formed and began to float and split. “But they’re super helpful, too.” It wasn’t long before the globules formed a circle around Vance before they exploded with bright sparks and sparks.
The game was afoot! So to say.
The sparks lit up around him, blinding him momentarily and jarring him as they all popped within tens of a second of each other, but instead of reacting fitfully, Vance burst upwards into the air (not very far, mind you, being indoors) and rotated so that his feet pressed flat against the ceiling.
“Helpful, sure, if you want to give somebody a migraine.” He kicked off from the ceiling and flew towards Jimmy, delving straight into the brawl, delivering blows while pushing his sparring partner back. It probably helped that his power set was better suited for sparring anyway.
Luckily, Jimmy was pretty good at evading attacks. Or at least, doing a good job of putting up a fight. With someone as strong as Vance, he couldn’t take a blow and not feel it which meant he had to be quick. So, there were dodges left and right before he managed to use the wall as a lift, somersault in the air and aimed to land on Vance’s back as his hands shot some sparkly migraines toward Vance’s face to disorient him.
The somersault kick paired with the sparks through Vance back and he spun upwards towards the ceiling again, disoriented as Jimmy planned but fleeing to regain control. Two breaths and he charged again from the same angle and the same approach before dropping like a rock to the ground, aiming low and kicking out Jimmy’s feet from under him.
As Vance swept his feet, Jimmy rolled to the side as he fell and got back to his feet launching a series of explosions as he did so to keep the man on his toes while he regrouped - some explosions hitting the floor, some on one side of Vance, some on the other, some behind him and above his head. Jimmy tried to use the puff of smoke from each explosion as cover to blindside him with a kick to Vance’s head.
Most of the explosions which struck Vance left absolutely no mark at all, a testament to the durability and strength of his physical mutation, but those that did tear or burn were more towards his elbows, a patch or two at his throat. He stayed low as the sparks assaulted him - smoke rose or at least left enough room that if he remained at a certain level, he had a better chance of seeing - that. The kick burst through the plumes, splitting them, and Vance had less than seconds to react. His hands latched around Jimmy’s ankle and calf and he twisted his arm to try and flip Jimmy.
Jimmy moved with the flip, swinging his other leg up to try and connect with the side of Vance’s head and stretched his hand forward to sent a face full of sparkles his way. As he sailed, though, he tried to maneuver his body to soften the landing, and rolled onto his feet. “Gotta admit,” he replied, “this is kinda fun.” He wore an amused grin as he waited for Vance to make his next move.
“See?” Vance’s knuckles ran along his sore jaw, the kick that Jimmy landed having been pretty brutal. “I know what I’m talking about.” It really was kinda fun. Granted, he’d have a hell of a headache when this was over, but Jimmy was really damn good.
That said, he came at Jimmy again, arm and shoulder bracing to bear the majority of his partner’s sparks. While he was a heavy man, all muscle and bulk, the flying lent itself to swiftness and lightness on his feet and he delivered strikes from all the angles it could provide him, lifting up into the air, coming down, swinging around and dodging while being dealt blows right back.
Jimmy tried his best to dodge Vance and use the smoke and sparks to his advantage. So, he took a chance once he realized he was being backed into a corner. He used the wall as leverage and hoped he timed his flip right so that he could land on Vance’s back, judo chop him in the neck and topple him to the ground. In his head, it would be a baller move if he timed it right.
The flip was timed perfectly, but Vance leaned forward and rolled his shoulders up as Jimmy moved, managing to deflect the chop so that it landed against his shoulder blade. It knocked him into the corner, where he hissed, “Christ on a cracker, Jim!”
Facing the corner, Vance jumped up with the hoist of his flying, pressing his feet against each wall and launching backwards, flipping into the air to attack and push Jimmy across to the other end of the room. Jim wasn’t the only one who looked good without wires.
Jimmy landed with more grace than he should’ve had after that. He wore a small grin at the small loss of composure. Sure, he might not win this fight, but the man could never say that Jimmy couldn’t hold his own. He watched Vance carefully trying to anticipate his move. He watched as Vance flipped into the air and head in his direction.
Again, it came down to timing. He allowed Vance to push him back, waited until just the last minute before jumping out of the way sending a charge of careful bursts at Vance’s back.
Like the game of pong, Vance jettisoned at Jimmy at one angle just to have the bursts push him back in another direction. For the most part, he’d kept his speed no greater than it would have been if he were a baseline human, but now he was thinking if he couldn’t dodge Jimmy’s sparks at this rate, he’d have to be quicker.
Dropping to the ground, he charged at Jimmy again, this time on foot. But as they settled into their spar, he implemented his speed, knocking Jimmy and then rotating behind him only to knock him again to keep him guessing, always unsure of his next point of attack.
Well, that certainly kept him off balance. If Vance was going to stay with his feet on the ground, and try to keep his speed up, then Jim was going to have change tactics. It came down to rhythm, flow, and just some goddamn luck. So, before Vance could knock into him again (which, btw, meant he was totally going to be feeling it in the morning), he rolled out of the way, onto his feet, flipped back a few times before crouching down and sending a range of globules in all directions.
The explosions from the globules were mostly a distraction, though. His real target? Vance’s legs. If his plan worked, Vance would fall hard and, in Jim’s comedic mind, maybe he’d flip in the air a couple of times like in cartoons. Maybe then they could call it day? Well, maybe. At this rate, Jimmy might have to call a draw or forfeit. Neither of them was the quitting kind, and, want for nothing, Vance was pretty damn durable.
Vance did fall, but there was only one flip, him being so heavy and solid that even a full brunt of an attack wouldn’t knock him back far. But his breathing was labored, light perspiration was pricking his forehead and arms, and it had been more than proven that Jimmy was a challenge. Not that he’d ever doubt it.
“Draw?” He asked, no hint of competitiveness in his voice. Though: “Any more blows and you’ll be unrecognizable.” And yet when looking at his own limbs, there were telltale marks of attack where his skin was grazed, some of the scratches even bleeding. Very cool.
Jimmy almost felt bad at the flip, and he couldn’t help the content grin that slipped on his face. After Vance asked for a draw, he got to his feet and wobbled a bit with each step before he sat on Vance’s gut in victory. “I’d be stepping on your chest victoriously my legs weren’t killing me.” He patted Vance’s cheek. With a groan, he got back up and held up his hand to try and help Vance up -- not that he needed the help but Jimmy was trying to show good sportsmanship.
“Now let’s get you shirtless and patch you up,” he said with a smirk, “you’re bleeding.”
“Boof,” Vance puffed out whatever breath he caught as Jimmy sat on him, swatting away his hand. “Premature victory stance, idiot, you were clearly losing.”
He could have very easily yanked Jimmy down - the thought crossed his mind the moment the other boy jutted out his hand - and had his one final laugh, but he took the proffered him and stood. “This was a really roundabout way of getting me undressed.” He smirked, flicking at Jimmy’s own shoulder whereupon rested a sore spot that would become a bruise. “You’re going to look like a dalmation.”
“Was I?” he replied with a small grin, but helped to heft Vance onto his feet. “Undressed?” he replied with a quirked brow. “I said shirtless.” He smirked. “I didn’t say to lose all the clothes.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Freudian much?” he added as he stretched, hissing when he felt Vance flick at his shoulder.
“Better than looking like a dick,” he replied.
“Undressing indicates the removal of articles of clothing. Taking my shirt off? Undressing. And you do realize you followed your Freudian observation by calling me a dick, right?” He tsk’d. “Sounds like I’m not the only one harboring some subconscious urges.”
Alas. Testing the application of that statement would not come to pass. For now Vance just had to settle with furtive glances at Jimmy’s backside. Looking wasn’t considered cheating.
“It’s not really subconscious, though, if we’re aware of it, right?” Jimmy asked as he led the way out of the room and toward the locker room where he knew there was a first aid kit. Plus, showers. God, did he need a shower. Might work out well for his muscles. Lifting his shirt, he wiped the sweat on his brow.
“Shower first or first aid?” he asked.
“Mmm,” Vance assented. “That’s true.” He didn’t think there were many times when he was unaware of his sexual urges. If he thought you were attractive, it wasn’t filed in the back of his mind to be considered at a later date. He knew and you knew.
“As much as the thought of you patching me up warms the cockles of my heart - shower. You stink and you need it.” The scratches and marks weren’t going to magically away while he was washing up anyway, he figured as he followed suit and wiped his own brow with his shirt. So much for going multiple rounds.
Jim tried not to go for the obvious joke there. So, instead, he merely rolled his eyes. “Don’t get too cocky,” he replied, “you’re smelling pretty damn ripe yourself.” He peeled off his shirt and wiped off the sweat and slung it over his shoulder as they entered the locker room. “Fine. Shower and then we’ll patch you up, dark chocolate. Sound good?”
If Jimmy had gone for the joke, Vance wouldn't have minded. There may have even been a chance he'd deliberately worded it that way. But he smiled and nodded, too weary to argue and mind too far wrapped in the anticipation of a shower. "Sounds good."