Do You Even Lift, Bro? [Batista/AH]

After his recent introduction to the school, Batista couldn't wait to the paradise of the school also known as the gym. He had been very irritated recently being freshly banished from Chicago and being forced to live here in New York. Hell, nothing special about restarting from the bottom. With that being said, he made his entrance known by opening the door and throwing his bag at the corner.

The contents of his bag were nothing unique: A pair of gloves, spare fist wraps, a change of clothes along with some wrist and ankle weights. The gym's set-up gave Batista quite the grin. With there being free-weights, some bags and a big area to enjoy, it was almost as if Jesus had his second coming simply to provide Batista with this living heaven. Though, there just so happened to be another guy here as well. He seemed to be doing his own thing so Batista figured he would do his own as well.

He unzipped his bag and pulled out his pair of gloves and the other fist-wrap that he didn't wear (obviously for design purposes). The gloves themselves were worn and had small holes along the front surface but nothing that would ruin the usage of them. Why bother replacing what isn't broken? Well, that's only the shallow reason to keeping them, with the other reason being they were the same gloves he'd had since the beginning of his boxing practices. With that being said, he placed the wrap and gloves next to his bag so he could get his weights.

Batista decided to improve his fitness, he would wear weights on his body to slow him down and apply more pressure to the workouts he was already doing. Though this may seem foolish, he had not known better and he trained himself to the point he is now. He effortlessly strapped the 10 pound weights to his wrists and then bent down to do the same for his ankles. He was all set up to begin his weight training and he brought himself to the dumbbell rack. He wanted to start off with high weights, low reps and did so by grabbing at some 65 pound weights.


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OOC

Reward desired: Stat Points

Batista would be going at his weights, pumping them at slightly slower pace, the extra 10 pounds on his wrists coming to haunt him indefinitely over the course of his workout. He would remain determined and continue to complete three sets of 10. What a way to start? Regardless, it would make his arms nice and sore. Not thinking it out, he sighed when he realized he planned on doing boxing afterwards. Time to make his own workout dysfunctional but effective.

His glance would look to Austin lifting his weights to notice that he was rather large amounts for his reps. 15..16..17..18..19..20? Indeed this was something he'd done himself but to see someone else at a school gym doing similar? It was about time that Batista began to realize this school was not the same as his others; how fun.

"S'up.. How's it hangin'?" Confrontation? Now, Batista was tempted to snap at him since he was in a pissed off mood but many factors including the fact that he's already began to tire himself out with his weights, he decided against so. He nodded his head, finishing up his sets, dropping them in front of his feet. The dumbbells rolled away but before they could get too far away, he'd step his foot to stop it from further movement.

"'Ey. Getting used to this shithole. Seems you're the first one who hits this gym that I've seen anyways."

"What's the rep? I'm new around New York itself." He chuckled, noticing that Knuckle's words came out periodically. He always found it amusing when people took pauses throughout their answer for god knows why. What a horrible sense of humor. Back to the topic, Batista was in-fact new to the area. When he was sent to New York, he did not bother looking around. He simply lived in his house and when he was sent to school, he went. Nothing special past that. Regardless, he would look down as the weights dropped.

"They call me Knuckles. Remember that name, bro. Whatcha got in the bag?" Knuckles, the name of what probably could be considered his future partner in the gym. Considering the previous answer that people barely came here, he didn't want to blow a chance with a sparring partner. With these facts noted, he would attempt to remember the man's name.

Now for the actual question, he shrugged in an expression of not hiding what he had. "Just some gloves and wraps as you see next to my bag. Besides that, just some various weights for your wrists and ankles. I prefer the extra weight when working out." He opened his bag up fully, unzipping it and revealed the rest of the contents. Found inside of the bag would be wrist and ankle weights with an assortment of colors. The weights them-self arranged from 5 pounds up to 20 pounds.

The reputation described by Knuckles certainly did make sense. Being that every other student he met was incredibly hostile or tough, the impression of the school outlined the description given. He chuckled in response because it was certainly true that he himself was forced here. With that said he then gave back a response to explain his own purpose, as to give a background of himself.

"I got brought here because I was banished from where I live. Just so you don't ask why, I beat up some kids and did what I needed to so I could support my ma'." Batista was one who believed himself to be all he needed to support those he cared for. If that meant he'd eventually have to fight someone like Knuckles, he'd do it as necessary.

Ironically enough, Knuckles afterwards offered him to do some glove-work. He wouldn't let go of an offer to spar for sure. Besides, it wouldn't hurt for him to see just how strong he was. With that being said, the remark of "what-ever-ya-name-is" bothered him and so he'd correct it. "Tch, the name's Batista. Batista Le Martin."

That being said, he would pick up his own gloves and wraps. "Better have your own gloves then." Afterwards, he would take his jewelry off his left hand and wrap it up. Then, he would put his gloves on and tap the fists of them together once they were both on.

While he had waited for Knuckles to return, he heard the banging of metal from the background. It made Batista laugh quite a bit because it reminded of him of his own reckless self but it also brought back the memories of old fights. Especially his favorite one in which someone swung a pipe at him but he ducked and they had hit their buddy behind Batista.

Anyways, he would come back with his red gloves he had indefinitely stolen from wherever he went and with that begun their sparring session. With the rules being spit out, along with what he considered to be a compliment, he nodded in agreement. He stuck his glove out for Knuckles to tap to officially signal that they could begin.

Once Knuckles would tap his glove, he'd back up just enough for punching range. His first attack would be a quick jab that would feint out for a right hook to Knuckle's solar plexus. If this attack succeeded, he would follow up with bringing his hands to close together (though the grip not perfect due to the thickness of the gloves) and would attempt a sloppy version of a Double Axe Handle.

Batista had known from the start that his fighting style was not anywhere near traditional boxing. Being that his fighting style was a brawler-style boxing as it is, anyone with decent analysis could see this by his poor footwork. However, what they wouldn't expect is that he was also incorporating professional wrestling techniques into his fighting. "Enjoying yourself so far?" He asked this without any empathy behind it but rather in the sense to mock the other guy.

The laugh enraged Batista. Once again, he knew this guy was strong but to take his blows as if they were nothing? Maybe Batista wasn't on top of his game; that must be it. Unfortunately, Batista was already too far in and considering Knuckle's speed, he would not be able to dodge the hit. "Oof!"

Taking the hook to his left side, he jumped upwards with the punch in an attempt to soften the blow but it did no justice. He would cough and attempt to catch his breath, backing up after the hit to regain some distance once more. Ironically, it would make him laugh to see Knuckles failed and now what started as a spar was now an exchanging of laughter and small hits.

Seeing as they had enough distance from each-other,he would set himself up in position for a boot directly to Knuckle's chin. Sweet Chin Music! If it had been successful, he would then duck and swoop his leg under Knuckle to send him to his inevitable cushioned doom. Houston, we have a problem. There seems to be a fresh butt on the surface.

His heel kick being a success, not by much but enough, Knuckle's head had been knocked back. "That'll show ya.." Batista muttered to himself before the incoming retaliation. Being that his speed was not the greatest, he would not be able to do much to himself but hope there was room for a counter.

Knuckles had palmed Batista's extended heel upwards and with that, Batista was forced into a splitting position mid-air. However, his heel had pain surging down the rest of his leg, rendering it useless for a short-period. Not having his not extended leg to use in this attack, he'd have to rely on his fists and his other leg. Knowing he can't punch in this current position, he would have to use his other leg somehow.

Perfect! Knuckles had forced a leg under Batista's standing one and using the given momentum, he would turn it into a enzuiguri. In layman's terms, Batista would use the moment of the incoming kick as a projector for his newly airborne leg to swing around to the back of Knuckle's head. If successful, this should at least bring Knuckles down with him.

Go down with him? You heard it right. Though Batista would be attempting a kick that should have a high success chance, this does not void him and he would soon find that out Following Knuckle's kick that would now fuel Batista's enzuiguri, he also sent a overhand right aimed directly at Batista's head. With that, Batista slammed to the ground, his head bouncing once against the ground before he was flattened. Batista would not be getting up from this at his current constitution, so he raised a hand as he hit the ground. He called his own defeat for this spar but this was not the end of the war. Soon enough, he'd try this once more. "Aight fam, you w-won this one."