Taking Five {Shots}//Anatra ~ Mark/Vy

[Anatra]

---

Mark Orca

---

To a slight amazement, Mark's testing of the waters doesn't actually go faulty like it probably would with anybody without a backbone. He respects that, but only a little. Sometimes, when there's no bite back, you take for granted the importance of a tolerant personality. She shoves him with the cue a little. "Yeah, we'll see about that." Her eyebrows are arched but the playfulness she portrays tells him he's in the clear. He wants to ask when, where and how, but he avoids overbearing her with questions. He doesn't like being a school kid at an educational convention.
When Mark describes his mundane life, presenting a more exciting alternative as a joke, she replies. "Not really, but you get points for creativity." He chuckles a little. "Perfect, I'll cash those in later." He raises a brow at her, but she doesn't see as she goes to take her final shot. "How about I just finish the game?" She says, and the words don't match up with her expression. It's almost as though she's dismissing the flirt, but not because she doesn't want it but perhaps because she doesn't believe it. Mark can hardly infer something that deep, not from where he is. He'd have to be close. She finishes the game with a pristine shot on the black. "Am I an aircraft or a snake?" She asks. "Either way you owe this Vyper a shot." He can't help himself but to break out in a wide grin. He's more than happy to do that, now. She's made it worth the money, like she had to try or anything. "Just one?" He says, going to the bar behind her, purposefully averting his eyes from glancing anywhere other than his wallet... Until... Okay, just one look. He shakes his head at himself, her back still turned, he hopes. His grin is private. He leans himself on the bar and holds out the two notes of money. "What's your prefered poison?" She asks, with him looking away at the drinks behind the bar. He can't help but look sideways at her as she asks. That's when he meets eyes with her. She has nice, large looking eyes and there's never a dull moment on that face of hers, apparently. He enjoys that. He gives a smile that isn't out of humor, for the first time it seems. "Something sweet, a bit wild." He points, taking away from the little sharing of eye contact they had that seemed to mean quite a lot to Mark. Keep them wanting more, or something like that. What he points to is a drink on the shelf behind the bar. "Four shots of that stuff, that'll do." The bartender's eyes widen a little. It's not the most expensive, but perhaps two for her and two for him will make up for that. It's strong though, the cheaper ones usually are.

"If you say so." The bartender accepts the money and puts the shot glasses down in a clump. Mark evens them out a little and the bartender pours the shots out. Two each, and Mark takes one straight away. Straight down. His eyes squint heavily. "Ahh..." He lets out. "Wow, that is strong." He pauses, looking to Vy. "How you coping there?" He chuckles under his breath which is probably intoxicated with the fibred scent of the drink already. It's not a displeasing smell, surprisingly. "So," He says, not having the next one just yet. "You tell me, aircraft or snake?" He has a smirk implanted on his face. He leans his arms on the bar and looks side-on. That's before he moves himself a little. He changes, now only leaning on one arm, so that's he's facing her completely. Thankfully, he still has some beer left so he has that in his other hand.

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

Somehow Mark plans on cashing in his creativity points. Well as long as it's not in drinks as Vy has the win in the bag once it's her turn and she only has one target left. It's not difficult to predict the outcome as they were both practically expecting it. By the looks of it he actually gave a fair fight and din't hand over the win. Which makes the free drink just that much better. Guess he won't be cashing in anything but his own money, unless he was meaning something else... Just to keep her own thoughts away from that she doesn't consider it. Sly man with his words this guy is. Maybe in a way she is setting it up and approving, only for an entertaining night. "Sure you will." It's hard not to go with it, she'll make sure to avoid anything more then this though.

The victory actually brings a grin to both of their faces, and Vy's unable to avoid admiring how he accepts this. It's almost as if he's happy to be buying this round, and she sure won't be complaining. He even questions only having one, bluntly offering more. So now he's trying to get her drunk, that sounds a little more typical. Good thing she seems to already be holding her alcohol a lot better. "Two?" For some reason more light laughter joins in with her second option for more. This guy has already proven to be a fun drinking buddy. "I won't put a number on your offer." Things will only get more interesting with higher intoxication.

It has to be another flirt that he attempts with once he reaches her at the bar after some slow steps. Why was he taking his sweet time trailing behind her? She sticks to thinking he was searching for his wallet. Even without him adding just like my women she can tell that's what he's referring to. Well then he's certainly not flirting with her since she only falls under the second part. "We're talking about shots here." She's far from the flirtatious type and redirects him back to the drinks.

Some bottle gets chosen and it's actually not the cheapest as Vy picked out before to save her slim wallet. It's not one of the high end ones, but sits nicely in the middle. The bartenders even questioning Mark's choice but still pours out four shots for them. "Cheers." Vy grins as she takes one right away as he does. This type actually is sweet and a bit wild as it tastes like fireball candy. "It's great." She answers after being asked if she's able to cope. The strong stuff burns a lot more but she loves that sting. Still she takes a swig of her beer to cool it down, and a small break before the second one.

The option over Vyper standing for an aircraft or snake reemerges as it's directed towards Vy instead. He even turns his whole body to face her, leaning on the bar so naturally and curious. "Both can be deadly, hard to pick." They both seem to symbolize her quite nicely actually. How ironic that a complete stranger came up with such a name. If only Brittany could of named her that instead of stupid Vanity. "One flies, the other's coy. Guess I'm both again." Seems to difficult to choose one. "What do you think?" She eyes him mischievously, his creativity did form this silly thing. Maybe he knows more then she does on this ring-name.

"Too bad I can't show you how good I am in the ring tonight." To think he's never actually witnessed her fighting skills yet, and already knows how deadly she can be. "Less you're willing to take this else where?" That sounds way too much of a flirt or an offer to take this into the bedroom. "Don't get your hopes up, I plan on kicking your ass again." She feels the need to clarify that she means actual business. Just incase he does take the offer she downs the second shot.

[Anatra]

---

Mark Orca

---

Mark definitely didn't get noticed checking her out. That's a plus for him. He didn't want to have to scramble an excuse like a bunch of fighter jets scouting for an enemy. It's not what he's good at, thinking on his toes - with words at least. Sarcasm is one thing to grasp, but lying is another. He's just not good at it, really. The smooth talk, though, he can do. She doesn't take to his flirting, though. She seems to dismiss it at every opportunity. Does this mean she's not interested in that kind of thing? Mark is surprised, but it would be arrogant to say that, surely. He'd never admit it because he isn't vain at all, but he does know that he isn't exactly bad, in all manner of speaking. Maybe she's just not that kind of woman. "I won't put a number on your offer." She says, so that at least tells Mark she's still somewhat up-for-fun, right? He can barely read her, which is why she's so interesting to his eyes.

"We're talking about shots here." She states. "I know, I know." Mark replies with a keenness to his eyes. He knows what tree he's barking up here, or at least he thinks he does. He needs to start piling up his cards, or else nothing will happen with tonight. Though, her keenness isn't seen just yet. Does she think she's making a friend here? Maybe, Mark wouldn't be disappointed because he can barely see the blurred line between friend and... item? He doesn't know what to call it. A girlfriend? It just doesn't sit right, not yet at least. The thought is way too distant, but he's not in for a one night stand, or anything stupid like that. He does take interest, and he's not one to not call first. "Both can be deadly, hard to pick." With her comment, Mark can clarify that she is deadly. She knows it, clearly. She wouldn't say it otherwise. He thinks she does know it, and she doesn't mind letting people know. He craves that. It's just irresistible about somebody. If they are good, then there's no point covering it in a shroud, just to protect somebody else's little ego. It needs to be flaunted a little, or else what's the point? Egotistical or narcissistic aren't the words, and aren't words that Mark would even know the meaning of, but what he likes is a balance between that and humility. He asks about the Vyper name again, just to bring it back into perspective. More or less to find out a bit more about her. Focus is definitely on her right now, and not him. There's nothing about him that is interesting, that's why. Maybe the occasional question from somebody 'do you workout?' or 'are you going somewhere with that hair?' which just kind of irritate him. Obvious questions with obvious answers, they're just horrible. They're not interesting. Vyper's interesting, though.

"One flies, the other's coy. Guess I'm both again." He shakes his head at her, his eyes widening sarcastically. "Snakes slither around whilst jets zoom." He playfully bites his lip before taking the next shot. Half of that was because he's toying with her a little, the rest because he was preparing to have the sourness again. He's not a customer of shots, he's only ever been around people taking them. He's definitely not a heavy drinker, either. Nights out are frowned upon with somebody who wants the perfect physique. Not that he does. "What do you think?" She asks. "I think if you're a snake, I better get out of here." He looks down at her hip area jokingly and back to her, a grin joining his cheeks with a smile. He can't help himself, laughing that is. It was a horrible gesture, and purposefully bad.

"Too bad I can't show you how good I am in the ring tonight." Why can't you? He asks mentally, but she has more to say. "Less you're willing to take this elsewhere?" He raises a hinting brow at her. She's completely hinting at what he thinks, isn't she? 'Elsewhere' can only mean one thing to him right now, this light tipsy state that has him walking the same as ever somehow. "Don't get your hopes up, I plan on kicking your ass again." He pauses, a purposeful look of disappointment on his face. "Oh..." He jokes. "I've never fought with poison in my veins." He says, quite poetically, actually. "Let's make tonight one of firsts. Maybe you'll be surprised." He likes to poke fun, and that's one way of doing it. "Grab your purse." He comments, sticking his hands in his hoody's pockets. It's a little cold outside, but he's sure he'll be fine enough. A black hoodie, and some light grey sweatpants. He'll be fine. Her? Does she need something to wear to keep the cold off her back?

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

It's difficult to actually pinpoint the flirtatious remarks and the jokes. Even when Vy was constantly drinking and sleeping around this sort of setup never occurred. It was always being one of the bros, and being the only female in that position it always resulted in someone to share her bed with. Now she finds herself questioning Mark's words and intentions. As the drinks increase the desire to have a bit more fun does to. "I know, I know." Gets him back on track on what he's suppose to be choosing. Clearly an array of girls are limited at this location, no sweet ones that are sprinkled with wildness. Apparently a shot can hold that description though.

Having the conversation completely on Vy is yet another thing she's not used to. It's so casual though as they discuss the options for a Vyper and which one fits her best. Mark even has in own opinion of the meanings, bringing yet another tease into the mix as he implies she either slithers or zooms. Being a snake suddenly doesn't sound as appealing. The way he takes and returns the jokes, acts as if he doesn't have a care in the world, it's not taken as an insult. Actually it's the complete opposite as his eyes scan her while he expresses his hope that she's not a snake. Resisting a chuckle's would be shameful as she nudges his shoulder with her hand this time, the cue out of reach to take the job again.

"Maybe you should." Vy teases with an eye roll. His back and forth on jokes and flirts actually a nice combo and keeping her entertained. Little does she know they'll both be the ones leaving. Bringing up a potential spar to two careers practically assures one will be occurring, and soon. This genre of people will simply do anything to prove their strength, even if it means walking miles to a gym or ring. Luckily Vy never travels on foot.

Just as Vy predicted her words are taken the completely wrong way. One of the relatively thin eyebrows for a man rises on Mark's expression, clearly indicating he got his hopes up. It's much too soon to consider a one nightstand though, maybe though. Hopefully he's a friends with benefits sort of guy because Vy's incapable of anything more, if she can even handle that. She has to shakes her head to rid of these thoughts. Not allowed! Just a little fun drinking and sparring, that's all she's allowed. Another Brooklyn will be absolutely horrible.

Back in the day it was practically tradition for Vy and a group of guys to sneak into the career gym during the wee hours of the night. They'd all get wasted and challenge each other. For some reason fighting the only chick was actually desired, but probably because she proved to be as ruthless as they are. Apparently these career nights didn't spread across the district as Mark expresses this'll be his first time. Once again the way he words it is just too good as he slightly returns to the topic of snakes and fighting with poison in his system.

"Only way to fight a snake." For some reason she wants to accept the nickname that Mark has given her. She'd probably punch someone for trying to make assumptions about her, but his sly words are too good to resist. "So very doubtful." She teases back when he suggests that she may actually be surprised by who wins. Unless he means over her winning again, he's wrong. The tease is only given back as he tells her to grab her purse while he exits himself. "Ass hole." She mumbles with an approving smile because she wouldn't have it any other way.

"No drinking in driving." Vy lectures with a chuckle, unsure if he came here in a car or walked. Giving his unique attitude, yet trim hairstyle, she's unsure if he belongs the wealthy or poor side of the district. "So we'll be riding tonight." She points over to her bike with a proud grin. "I'll give you a lift." Whether a motorcycle is actually safer then a car she's unsure, but she's plenty good at driving her transportation while under the influence.

[Anatra]

---

Mark Orca

---

"Ass hole." has him internally laughing to himself. That's when the chill of the outdoors hits him a little. "No drinking in driving." She acts like a parent almost, within humor though. It's all part of their to-and-forths which make the whole thing that next level of comfortable. "Wow, this is all yours?" He says, in slight amazement at her motorcycle. It's quite the beast, he would say so himself as well. "So we'll be riding tonight." Mark almost laughs aloud but instead he comes back with yet another comment. "Oh really?" Is all he can think of though. "I'll give you a lift." He nods his head happily, checking the girl (bike) out for himself. He raises a brow though, looking smugly at her. "What makes you think I can't ride this myself?" But then he assumes she'll say something quite particular afterwards. Something about it not being his. With no reluctance, he waits for her to get on herself and then he'd seat himself behind. Very comfortably.

It's not at all an awkward position, for him at least. You've got two options, hold onto the back-bar / sidebars or wrap your arms around whatever you can that's in front of you. The latter, his prefered option. "My I?" He asks, reaching his arms under hers so he can have them on her waist comfortably. The teasing, it almost all leads up to this, really. Contact. Maybe she likes the feeling of strength behind her, but maybe she's all too used to it. Surely, she'd be flattered that somebody is going to the extent that Mark is. But she could be anybody, with any kind of opinion. He has no idea.
That's why it is so fun for him.

He has no idea the reaction she'll have, but then... That's another thing that makes it better.

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

Something about her motorcycle brings a sort of pride to Vy. Not much does, but for some reason her transportation does. It just seems to fit her as odd as that may sound. "Every piece." She answers Mark's question about it being all hers. Seems like she's already left a nice impression for him, this must just add on to that. Doesn't look as though he brought his own either, so it comes in handy as well.

Unintentionally the joke over riding instead of driving is taken in the wrong, yet unexpectedly right, context. "Shut up." Vy laughs at his oh really comment. Yet again the wrong words slipped from her mouth. For some reason she's just unable to help it as the drinks are taking over her ability to filter her words first. Apparently a dominance competition is next as he implies he can ride it himself. Now it's Vy's turn to question which way he's taking it. "Because it's my bike." After all she'll never be riding bitch on this vehicle, and unlikely in any case. With that she hops on in the front, waiting for him to take the back as she laughs away his chance.

The combination of drinks and being close completely escaped Vy's mind. On a bike it's sort of unavoidable though. Giving someone a lift is common for her, but this presents its self to be different. Of course Mark politely asks before placing his hands on her waist for support. "Yeah." She shrugs it off as it's nothing. The secure grip gives her reminder of what sort of effects drinks can bring. She bites down on her lower lip to rid of these thoughts as they take off on the road. Least the open air's a slight distraction. Though it's now that she realizes the build he has with the forced closeness. Only a spar, that's all that's allowed. She has to remind herself once again, and even repeats it a couple of times.

As soon as they're parked Vy's hoping off of the bike as if it was on fire. Being close to someone is unacceptable. She should of considered that in the first place. They're here now though, and the fight is still very much needed. Once they reach the mat she can prove her strength and he'll never want to consider such thoughts again, it'll be perfect. "Windows to the locker room are always open." At this time of night the doors are all locked for security, that doesn't mean a late night workout's impossible though. She trails off in the right location as if she's done it a million times before. The AC makes a perfect step to reach the opening, and without hesitation she's hoping up and crawling through.

[Anatra]

---

Mark Orca

---

"Every piece." He nods at her. "Nice, nice. I like it." He admits.
The bike ride itself gets to a speeding start, of course. It is a bike, after all. The scent itself is truly what makes it mostly worth it. It's the outdoors mixed with her, and the bike's fumes. All of them are amazing smells to him, but that's just because he's like that. He takes in his senses more than he does his wits. "Windows to the locker room are always open." Mark nods at her. "Right, well I'll-" He starts, but she's already hopping onto the air conditioning unit and slipping into the window herself. He folds his arms at this attempt, it's quite exceptional if he has to admit as much. "Alright, enough showing off, Vyper." He hops onto the AC unit as well, and slips through the same window, but he's more cautious than she perhaps was, being his first time and all. He's not entirely stupid, not even when he's had a few things to drink. But the outdoors and the booze always sparks a nice little fire. From here, he knows exactly where he needs to go, so he does. Even with the lights mostly off. It's best to leave them all off except for the ones they're using - the training rooms. The one with the big ring. It will be fun, having everything covered in darkness except for the lighting beaming down on the white ring.
It will be spectacular.

Mark reaches the ring first, turning to Vy but walking backward. "Let's teach you how to dance, shall we?" He chuckles cheekily, turning again and leaping up onto the ring's edge and under the ropes. "Reminds me of the fighting pits under the old shack." He steps into his half of the ring, right near the center. "Show me what you've got, buttercup."

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

Even though the careers don't seem to all hold the same traditions throughout the district, their gyms are all practically the same. It didn't take long for Vy to figure out an easy access to sneak into, and with how odd her hours of training it came in handy often. As if she was a cat she's slipping through the window like it was nothing. Being all sly and sneaky physically doesn't seem like a talent she'd naturally possess, but she's picked it up through years of training none the less. "Can't help it." Vy chuckles at Mark's request for her to stop showing off. Usually it's something she's purposely doing though this time it's actually not intention. Guess the drinks are controlling her more then she figured.

"Someone's eager to lose again." Vy jokes at Mark's race to the ring. Something about training at this hour's so perfect. All the lights are practically off if not dimmed down. Much better then trying to reach that deadly side with blaring lights everywhere. The lack of other career's are also a huge plus as more concentration can be given with this silence. Doesn't seem like that'll really matter though as the drinks have already diminished that ability. Either way an excitement creeps in as she sprints to catch up to him.

The teasing back and forth returns as Mark tries to take the place of teaching her. Guess they'll really be seeing who will be teaching who tonight. "So full of yourself." She comments with a wide smirk that's beginning to hurt her cheeks. She never smiles this much, even when drinking, The competition and sly way with words from Mark is impossible not to enjoy. With in seconds she's following him into the ring, completely ready to teach him how to spar while under the influence.

"Yeah, me to." Something they actually share, though Vy's not surprised to find out he fights underground as well. Great so this will be really interesting with both of them being more then just careers. "With pleasure." If nothing else she plans on showing Mark what she's capable of. Without hesitation she's immediately moving in for her first hit. First impressions are everything, and starting with a strong punch means just that. Usually she waits to use her fierce left fist, make her opponent think she's only decent. From the bat she's fooling with her right just to deliver with her dominant side. Distractions key and just to make sure he won't take this as a weak right side, her right foot swings under his feet in hopes of proving herself before he ever has a chance to retaliate.



((Attacks for Vy to use: Bruise - 2 , Bruise - 2 , Trip - .5 , Bruise - 2 , Trip - .5 ))

[Anatra]

---

Mark Orca

---

The ring floor is subtly rough but at the same time, anybody would know it would comfort their fall. Something that Mark isn't so keen to find out just yet, but the alcohol is going to make it much more likely than anything else. "Someone's eager to lose again." He smirks at her from on the ropes, looking down at her with that grin that's cheeky at the same time as partially flirty. He's so full of it. "Can't help it." He repeats from her. If he's not good at writing down sarcasm, he's definitely good at spitting it out. "So full of yourself." She comments on such as he tells her he'll teach her some dance moves. He's definitely eager to prove her wrong though. He likes her, but being reduced is something he's good at bouncing back from. It's not humiliating when he does it though. Or at least, it hasn't been in the past. He wouldn't know. Being seventeen, you can be quite naive. Being naive in this district is dangerous, though. He's learned not to be that person.

She starts the fight, and instantly she's faking a throw with her right, which Mark assumes is her strongest. As he prepares to defend himself, she has movement with her left more-so. He doesn't anticipate this, but he didn't discount it. He just didn't notice. His mind is blurred by something, the drink or perhaps some kind of other chemical. Love's a chemical. But who the hell loves on a first meeting? Not Mark. He's not like that. He's lustful. His heart craves, and then moves on. It rarely has a chance to keep craving the same thing, always getting hooked on something else. He doesn't put himself everywhere available, but when some 'opportunity' comes around, he can't help but drive himself for it. He's a dangerous guy, somebody who takes risks. It's a selfish thing, to be lustful. He does it well, sometimes taking into consideration those around him. He's never forceful, but he's definitely... rough.

Speaking of rough, her fist implants itself in the side of his head, and just as he finally comes to grips with what is happening, he's being tripped without him even able to defend himself. She's good. Either that, or he's just been really stupid and let her have the first laugh. Being on the floor wasn't as good as he thought it would be. Pain isn't going to be numbed by some drink. His heart is racing, and he can practically feel the blood rushing within his head and through his arms. Nothing external yet, though. He says nothing. He shoots his eyes upward at her from the floor, which he's now averting so he can quickly get himself into place so that he doesn't get overwhelmed by her.

His fighting stance is very secure. It's as though he's been used to having to get up from something like that before. He's good at it, that's about all he shows though. Weakness never flows from him naturally as any other, it seems. Or perhaps that's just what he's letting show. Concealing the rest. He noticed she used her legs. Sometimes in the underground rings, kicking isn't allowed which is usually the fights he doesn't necessarily enjoy. Kicking is where a lot of his strength is, but mostly, it's in his arms. He has quite large arms, strong arms. He paces forward at her viciously, the blood in his veins boiling but something behind it seems cold and soothing. Adrenaline, but also something else. It's that chemical again. No, there's two other things.

He strikes. He throws his fist forward as though it was going to miss, but the fooling Mark has something in store. He props out his elbow and shunts that into her instead. It's got a force behind it, like a real punch. He didn't slow down one bit. He really doesn't care that it's a girl. But he's at least giving her what she gave him. Fair is fair. He has to strike again though. He can't just let her get away with just that. He needs to pursue this threat until he's the winner. He says nothing. He brings his knee upward at her, jumping almost into her stomach but trying to use his arms to grab her whilst her does it. A knee to the stomach might wind her, or something potentially vital for his win.

The fun, however, is unmeasurable.

[[ Marky's attacks; Gash/Bruised - 3 / Bruised - 2.5 / Miss - 0 / Bruised - 3 / Tripped - 0.5 ]]

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

In a matter of moments Vy's old self reemerges as she's able to look down at Mark for a change. A wicked grin overtakes her face as if to say I' told you so' without a word. It's simply nice to prove she's one of the only females that's not all bark. Probably even a toss up on whether her punch can sting as much as her sarcasm. "Come on, I know you got more then that in you." Definitely the type to taunt, though far from kicking a man while he's down...well unless he really deserves it. This Mark guy certainly doesn't, and if anything she wants to see the fight he can give back. See if his moves are as coy as his words.

Now the fight's for real as the first damage has been initiated. Whether he'll fight her like a man or wuss out due to the opposite gender, or drinks, is now teasing her mind. One wrong move and this becomes more then a spar, which can hold many possibilities from a real fight to... That's not even acceptable to think of! She'll only be kicking his ass in one way. Her eyes travel up as he's quick to his get back to his feet, ready for it to continue faster then most drunks. Least he's a tough career.

There's nothing being held back as Mark lunges in for his attack, moving with speed and clear adrenaline. It's as if they really are in one of those underground rings, except that no audience is needed to encourage them on. This has to be a first as Vy usually takes these quiet fights less seriously. Her head attempts to dodge the flying fists, just to retrieve back and meet an even worse fate of an elbow to the side of her face. His movement seemed so clumsy, unlike his jump to his feet, but apparently he has some tricks up his own sleeve as well. So he's not planning on taking it easier because she's female, well that's good to know. And if anything Vy's more intrigued with this information. Any other way would be absolutely boring. This has her blood pumping and excitement racing. Finally a real fight.

The next strike to the stomach was completely unexpected, as she's unable to even deter the impact with hands forcing her towards it. For a second the alcohol threatens to reappear before settling to sizzle her insides. No time to care over wounds though. She's not even the type to play the weak or hurt female card as a trick. Her knuckles spring up as her spine straightens out. It's surprisingly difficult to give full force in harming someone she just met. As if she didn't want to mess up his pretty face. Still she has to return some of the pain as her fist connects with the bottom of his chin.

Words aren't needed, and Vy loves that it's turned into an intense battle. Lately bickering's involved, or stupid feelings, not this time though. Since it seems to be a double attack night she immediately goes in for another. Legs also appear accepted and given that her stomach's still burdened by pain she may as well throw in one of those...or should it be kick. With a quick jump back her foot's now the one taking aim. Height difference does play a major part, but nothing's capable of stoping her.



((Attacks for Vy to use: Bruise - 2 , Bruise - 2 , Trip - .5 , Bruise - 2 , Trip - .5 ))

[Anatra]

Apologies if this is bad, was on mobile at school

---

Mark Orca

---

The endless drumming of battle, war and conquest. It's beating on the eve of a victory of defeat. Neither of which are crushing by any standard. Vy is most definitely a formidable opponent, and Mark hopes that he is mostly similar in that regard. Similarities between him and Vy do no appear to be hiding themselves. They are clearly really enjoying the fight, judged by how determined the pair of them look even with the drink. Mark's deeply placed brown eyes are ever watching and ever hunting. He is a perfect predator that lives for the hunt. Only within this ring, as when he leaves it is almost as though he is a different person. There is a softness about him that is unforeseeable from a distance. It is a warmth that can only be indulged by that one lustful side of him, but it's sensed easily by others who see those mannerisms. The flirting, when it gets serious. The subtle look he can give unintentionally. But there's also the tough side of him. The strength of him. The way he sponges the damage that is given to him.

Vy throws a punch to his chin which knocks his jaw into a lock. Mark's way of revealing this pain is as though he's angry. Pain is not at all a relative word for it. To have your jaw knocked into a different place is unimaginable unless you've had to happen yourself. But, within and instant, the adrenaline and alcohol forces him to make an irrational decision, but one that isn't without use. He slams his hand to his jaw to stop it from going any further than it would if her full force struck through it. The pain is there, but at least he hasn't got a jaw swinging from cheeks. She doesn't even stop there, she throws her leg at his stomach which causes him to have nausea spin around his gut.

His nausea is overtaking. He tries to hold it in but Vy's attack is making it really difficult for him. His next attack is an attempt at striking back. It fails. He can't help but feel slight shame for it, but no warrior falls after a simple mistake. If it is costly, he never lets it cost. He brings himself back for another strike, this grime trying to break her guard with his strength. Whether it is possible or not, he doesn't quite know, but he tries none the less, because it will be fun to test his limits. Not that he isn't testing limits already. His stomach twitches, threatening the obvious but he resist and a moment later it settles to a hum. Illness is sometimes a goal for Mark. The barrier between what you cannot do and what you can, at the gym or in the ring, always end with his body refusing change like a spoilt baby.

Still, he presses on with the little battle. His intentions for afterwards will require some exceptional talent at persuasion, he feels. Something that he isn't necessarily used to. Attention from the snobby careers that usually try to fight over the strong one, especially at school, is and wasn't rare. He refused most of it, keeping to his friends for that kind of pleasure. He's the kind of person to assume that it isn't love until you say it is. So his opinions of what seems to be so off of Vy's mind allows him to be the sound person to enjoy a night and not expect anything extraneous.

[[ Marky's attacks; Gash/Bruised - 3 / Bruised - 2.5 / Miss - 0 / Bruised - 3 / Tripped - 0.5 ]]

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

Something flickers in Mark's chocolate colored eyes. Only lasts for a split second before it's replaced with that common lust for revenge. What was that Vy had caught though? Wince of pain as his jaw finds it's place again. After a lifetime of physical fights Vy's tolerance is amazing, and the drinks only helps that. A few are unlucky and alcohol enhances pain though, guess he may be one of them. She's not going to step back over this matter, if anything she'll just be able to prove herself faster. Not like he's going to back down in the least. So her body's darting to the side to deliver the best kick. Least she's nice enough to not copy him and use her knee, especially since the height difference would land it somewhere very unpleasant.

Within seconds Vy finds herself jumping back even more to avoid furious fists swinging her way. The pauses and attacks are all unpredictable, but an immediate return is be expected. A grin spreads to her face as if to taunt him further. Which does just that as a set of knuckles carve into the opposite side of her face that was harmed before. Good thing that's not one of her prize possessions. Complete contrary as she feels the visible marks after a battle just makes her appear more threatening. She likes them unlike other girls, or even guys for that matter.

The grin doesn't fade as pain surges through her head. No, that approving smirk stays plastered to her face like she was craving more. Ending this all and coming out on top is her primary, or only, goal. Two bruises on her face is plenty, and now her full motives go towards finishing him. Another encounter with the ring floor should do just that. She flies forward positioned to attack above the waist. Fists threaten to sink into his own face, only enough to hopefully get him moving back to where a foot can greet him. Splat. It's always fun to become suddenly tall with everyone constantly towering over her.



((Attacks for Vy to use: Bruise - 2 , Bruise - 2 , Trip - .5 , Bruise - 2 , Trip - .5 ))

[Anatra]

---

Mark Orca

---

What's to say he can't win this one fight? Her? Yes. It is her. It's written all over her smirk. He likes it. The danger, the riskiness of her challenges. The strength of her moves make this fight all the more fun. But it's not just fun for him, it's a lifestyle. It's what he's been doing day in, day out. It gets boring if you aren't paired with somebody with not only the capability to challenge you, but the appearance to challenge your distractions. To him, she has that. Perhaps not in the ways that most career guys look for, though. Flawless good looks, perfectly sculpted facial features and the hair that flows past all of their curves. That doesn't do it for him. It's when they are fierce. When they are daring. He revels in that idea, even now.

It is clear in her stride that she wants to finish this now. Not out of apparent laziness, or boredom. She's not even tired. It's because she wants to prove her point. He won't let her. He can't let her. His senses are all on edge. He's desperate for this win. His fists clench, and his wrists ready themselves for the strikes that she is now preparing, apparently, to throw at him. She doesn't do that though, as when he moves his legs as any wise person does, he's proven unwise, as his feet are knocks from beneath him and his balance is stolen by her. She's a thief, and she has his win in her hands now. Or does she? Nobody is clapping for a win, and nobody is blowing a whistle, yet.

He rises straight to his feet, and with the haste that is needed to get her scared, if that's even possible - he doubts it, he does the exact same thing back to her, as if she wouldn't expect somebody to try that. Instead though, he switches his tactics last minute. Whether it's his instincts telling him that it's a better attack, or maybe he's worked it all out how he wants this to go down, literally. He throws himself forward at her in almost a tackle-like fashion. It's fierce how he does it. But the moment she's on the floor, he can't help but notice the position to which he's in. And her. He takes a deep breath, and apparently lying on top of somebody feels warmer than expected. He's no blushing. His confidence spikes. It's a split moment, but everything that goes through his head does so ultimately fast.
His biting of his lip returns but for a brief moment, probably showing what is going on in his mind. Whether the drink takes over, or something internal, that chemical, he leans his head forward and his next attack is going for her lips. There's no contrast, though. Anybody might expect any other person to calm down at this point, to relax and take it slow. Maybe even go gentle. No. He doesn't. His actions are hasty, and borderline aggressive. But it might have an appeal to it. There's something about it that few people could deny to be irresistible. It's the fact that there's the scent of alcohol all around them. He can barely stop himself to notice.

[[ Marky's attacks; Gash/Bruised - 3 / Bruised - 2.5 / Miss - 0 / Bruised - 3 / Tripped - 0.5 ]]

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

Nothing tops the cake to being on top in the ring. Okay, maybe a few achievements from Brooklyn, but that mindset is far out of water at this point. Hell there's not an ounce of motherly attributes, all career instincts. So much so that Vy's eyes don't budge for a second as they stay trained on Mark. It's been made clear that he's as tough as her and, though she'd never even consider it, probably even stronger to. But once again it's him looking up for a change, and her butt has yet to meet to the floor. Doesn't seem like the type of spar to end with one of them half unconscious and tapping out, if either of them would even dare to do such a thing. And of course he's not willing to stop there as he's springing back to his feet without warning.

Revenge, and eye for an eye type of deal. She got him in the face, he returned the favor. He kneed her in the stomach, she kicked him there. As if they're playing on being fair. So prediction tells he'll be moving in for a trip now. Have him standing over her while she stumbles to the floor for a change. With this in mind she keeps a firm stance, arms up and ready for protection. Like she's going to fall for the very same trick. Instead of any limbs attacking, arms wrap around her and they're both hurling back to face an ultimate tumble. They land with a loud aching thud, Mark being lucky enough to have someone break his fall.

Not even inches apart. There's not an ounce of air separating the two, and the muscles Mark possess is certainly noted by now. Whether it was his plan or not baffles her. She's unable to even consider her own opinion, the alcohol refusing such a thing. The only thing she knows for sure is that her heart's slamming against her ribs and it's not over catching her breath, which she's still attempting to achieve. Closeness. With a strong career that gives and takes as much sarcasm as she does. That little voice demanding her to stay in control is no where to be seen, or heard.

The last time Vy found herself in this position was actually not long ago. Pulling away from those gentle lips was much easier though. That voice couldn't be ignored as everything felt all too sweet even though they were sparring. Now though, fierce lips interlock with hers and she's unable to pull away even if she wanted to. She's far from wanting to though. There's only a desire for more, to have him even closer. Her hands find the back of his head to sink further into the kiss, make sure he won't be pulling away. How suddenly this fight has shifted into what she wanted to prevent, along with that need to prevent it.

Hesitation is far from the table now. Exactly what she didn't want she finds she's unable to resist. Those eyes though, and that smirk that he wins even when he loses. The fight that most pretty boys don't contain. It is irresistible. There's no deny what's in store. But this is still all part of the fight, and being on top still plays on Vy's mind even with how distraction he may be. It calls for the perfect time though. With no possible way of comparing to his weight, her only chance is to slide from underneath him to flip this to the right way. Not even for a second does her lips part from his as she attempts to turn the tables.

[Anatra]

---

Mark Orca

---

Elegance and grace. There doesn't have to be any of that nonsense here. This is not the house of any divine deity. This is not underneath the roof of any important figure. There are no rules. So nobody needs to play by them. As he leans forward with his attack, she seems to accept all manner of invasion. Her guard is her own lips. Her hands move in to secure the kill, reaching to the back of his head with a firmness that he can't help but appreciate in the respected way that suits the scene. Chest to chest, face to face. His hands keep him in place, making sure he isn't overbearing with his weight. His heart is sinking deeply, be it the occasion or be it the alcohol - he doesn't know. The feeling is a first, yet the occasion is not. She is the strongest of any of the people whose lips have fell prey to the predator. She fights back. She isn't all take, no give. It is relentless to have to work with anything otherwise. There would be nothing. Just the constant provision. Like sending all of your cards into the deck at once.

Fairness is something that has been valued unconsciously by Mark for the past few hours. Fair is fair. That's far from deteriorating, even with the alcohol and the situation. There is a haste behind the way that he attacks. The fight he's putting forth is strong. Nobody wants somebody who is boring, slow and delicate. Not anybody that Mark wants to spend the night with, anyway. His thoughts are animalistic right now. They are prone to reduction. The heat of the moment, which is warm and stable thanks to the booze, has the effect of thoughtlessness about his actions. Act now, think later. It's a blurred line. He isn't that drunk, but he is past a certain edge that puts an edge to his words, actions and attacks.

He can sense nothing regarding hesitation. It is perfect. The mixture between what he likes, and hopefully what she seems to want. That's when she turns the tables. Literally. The connection sustains, the furious battle still continuing. She seems to slip out of his collecting presence but instead of resisting, he lets her take the helm. If she wants to join the vanguard, she can. Fair, is still fair. He is on the ground now. Her presence atop him is tenacious. She is unyielding. The weight of another in the place that she is cannot go without consequence. Nor can the constant duel that they have pursued, joined face to face.

Mark puts his hand to her shoulders, pushing up on her with a strength behind it, but also not in a way that means to be hurtful. Shock, he cares little for. Control is shocking. His eyes meet hers as he opens them, or at least he expects them to. As her face is distanced for the first time, giving him time to take in what is really happening, he smirks. His hands slip behind her head just as she was with him, and he starts the fight all over again, letting her sink once more into a kiss.

Shorter this time though. Something should be said, shouldn't it? His thoughts think whilst the storm rages on. He can't help but wonder whether what he is doing is irrational. Whether he should ask for permission, see if she's alright with this.

No.
She's not stupid. If she didn't want it, she'd have said no.
Plus, she's above. Nobody takes the reigns if they don't want to.

Her fierceness is appealing to him, but his thoughts wander around the possibility of what is to follow. What can possibly follow?