Scene #2839: Boxing Club

Owner	Pose
Makoto Kato	It's midday in BAWSTON, the land of EY FUK YEW GUY and other wise idioms of people connecting with other people. A gym/boxing ring had opened near the office - perhaps a few blocks away, next to Spirelli's Italian Pizza (an odd combination, to say the least) - and had advertised around. Some of the Usual Suspects had shown up and were summarily removed under a 'No Tough Guys' policy, which had sent away the gymrats and the bros and left a bunch of people trying to get fit or work on their form or burn calories... And a dark-haired japanese girl, who had brought her own punching bag, in her dark gi and long silver neckband (which the proprietor had highly recommended against, which she had politely giving him the deathstare over until he just put his hands up and let her work), in the corner. Two large men - in the 'heavy' sense, not the 'built' sense, were going at each other in the ring, with full padding on and headgear, an there was a generally good vibe going on, as Makoto pounded away at her bag loudly. Someone complained to the owner, in fact, about how loud she was going at it, before the owner calmly pointed out that she wasn't paying attention to anyone else, and if she caused trouble, he'd stop it. And so the good vibes continued.
Guest Psyber	Psyber didn't really mind the loud thumping and rattling, not because of a tolerant and patient personality. More because he has a set of earbuds on and is blaring some loud music into his ears while he punches a bag not too far away. He usually worked out at the more supernatural-geared gym closer to the harbor, but he only had time for a quick workout instead, so he stopped by the newer, more adjacent gym to his building. Of course, he's not exactly easy on the bag he's hitting either. While not immediately next to Makoto, he's a few bags down the line and hitting his own bag with much less restraint than her. He just tends to get away with it because 'Hey, that's Psyber!' and 'Psyber is in our gym!', so as a city celebrity he gets some leeway in what he's doing. This, however, does not excuse him from getting yelled at by the manager and asked to cover his damages when he eventually punches the bag so hard it splits in the middle and spells sand all over the gym floor.
Makoto Kato	Psyber manages to split a bag down the middle and send sand all over the place. Some of it sprays on Makoto, thus AGGROING HIM FOREVER, PREPARE YOURSELF FOR A THOUSAND YEARS OF TOR- Oh wait sand got everywhere becuase he punched it like he was a tomahawk cruise missile heading straight for a bunker filled with the enemies of AMERICA - fierce, unrelenting, and worth a whole pile of taxpayer money that explodes violently. Well, okay that last one isn't generally about Psyber, just the locales he visits. Makoto pauses, resetting her stance, and then leans down to brush well-worn gi pants leg that had gotten all sandy, before stepping forward. She recognizes a fighter - and a terribly powerful one. "Why did you do that?" She asks, with a half-interested, half-utterly-detached tone. "Something wrong?"
Guest Psyber	He's rubbing the backs of his knuckles as he talks to the manager of the gym. There's mostly assertions that he will pay for the new bag on his way out of the gym, along with some promises that it won't happen again. Standard stuff for when you accidentally damage something in a store. Luckily, he managed to avoid splitting his hand open from the punch, or if he did it healed already and he didn't manage to bleed into his hand wraps. Either way, he calmly waits for the manager to finish lecturing him and then leave. He then turns to face his mortal foe unrealized, the force of nature who will torment him for all time. Alternately, he turns to face the random and unknown girl he's never met before but asked him a question, "Oh. Sorry about the sand." Her question goes unanswered for a few moments before he finally manages to give a vague enough response that both answers her and seems innocuous, "I had a long weekend at work. Lots of overtime."
Makoto Kato	Makoto looks nonplussed, thumbing back at her bag(s). "You can just keep one of mine. I brought an extra for this sort of thing." She offers to the proprietor, before looking to Psyber, her eyes staring right at him. Taking his measure. She's kind of short, though, so that involves a bit of lookin up. And down. And then she just kind of looks at him. "You're known, but not here. People know you because you're strong." She intones, evenly. She seems surprised at the 'sand' comment, before looking down and dusting away some more sand. "Oh. It's fine. Better than blood." She shrugs, her shoulders working in a slow roll. "So you came to break punching bags? They're not about breaking. They're for working on technique, form, motions. Restraint is part of their use, for people like... you." "Do you want to spar? If it's you, I don't think I need to hold back. And if it's me..." She smiles. "You don't have to worry too much. Though..." She looks at the ring. "Maybe we should not break the place."
Guest Psyber	"Oh..." Psyber comments as she thumbs towards her bags and offers him one to replace the broken bag he hit, "Uh... thanks. Cool," Psyber comments off-handedly as he looks around the boxing club a bit. He stretches his fingers slightly and considers her comments. "No, I didn't come in intending to break one. I started practicing, lost track of myself in thought, and it popped. It happens some times, it's why I don't usually use the public gyms for normal people," He sighs a bit and lifts his hands up, folding them behind his head, "People talk about me, I guess. I've been around a while, so it makes sense they know me." "Do YOU want to spar?" He asks as he picks up a pair of padded gloves and starts to put them on his hands, carefully tightening them, "I'm not saying no, it's just that you don't look much of a boxer and all. Unless you meant a freeform fight."