Left cross. Right cross.

Who: Nic
Where: U.S. Muay Thai studios (Washington St.)
When: Late afternoon

Kick, move, strike one-two, right cross. The thoughts came faster than Nic's movements, her limbs still uncoordinated and clumsy in their own proportions as she toiled in the back of the training floor that was part of U.S. Muay Thai. The place was bustling; the two rings both holding sparring partners and onlookers, heavy bags and speed drills occupied, and towards the front she could see the primary instructor going over the tenets of the studio with a batch of new enrollees. A few days earlier, Nic had been right where they were now, standing in her own sweats and being lectured about how she wasn't going to suddenly turn into the guy from 'Ong Bak' when she woke up tomorrow. Still, she felt superior to the lot of new people already.

She'd snickered in agreement with another student earlier when he'd said that most of them wouldn't stick with this for a month, that it was a panicked expenditure in response to the spirits, but would Nic last that long? She liked to think so. For all her clumsy first steps, the style appealed to her with its' brutal efficiency. It wasn't all flowery like the kung-fu she saw in movies, and it wasn't nearly as reliant on upper body strength as the MMA she saw plenty of people practicing on the open mats. Sure, Nic could pack a punch, but she didn't know that grappling would do her much good against a guy. Or a werewolf. But it might be fun to surprise Caleb with.

That thought had her smiling, her punches coming a bit lighter as her training partner braced a heavy bag for Nic. It was stupid, she felt stupid even with realizing that, but Nic? Well, she was sorta dumbstruck by everything. She wondered about what they were doing a lot of the time, if they were something serious, if he might get jealous seeing her talking to or hanging with some other guy. She knew she'd clock a bitch if she saw Caleb with them, for certain. And that he'd probably like it. He was possessive on some level, why else would he insist that she didn't cover up the bite on her neck?

"Nic, what the fuck are you doing?" came the voice that snapped her from her reverie. Her training partner Rudy stood on the other end of the bag, bracing it expectantly and shooting her a glare. "You gonna hit this thing or what?" he asked with a grumble. "Why, you that eager to get knocked on your ass?" she asked in kind with a grin, stepping back and huffing in a breath. Nic lunged forward, snapping a foot flat out at chest level in what was known as a teeb; a kick that, if it connected, left the opponent flat on their back. She hit hard, ankle grinding a little as Nic felt her balance lurch, suddenly spilling over to one side with a laugh.

Rudy was there to heft her back to her feet a moment later, chuckling as he did. "Good thing I got back up so fast, Bruce Lee," he teased, dodging as Nic tossed a half-hearted jab at him, then grabbing her arm and pinioning it behind her back lightly. Rudy was way better, a mixed-martial arts student who'd come here for college and found the studio, but had offered to help out with Nic's practices for some reason she couldn't figure out. She didn't complain either, she needed the help, but this time? Well, she was scrambling to get out fast as she saw a somewhat-familiar and significantly smaller form heading through the others in the midst of their workouts and exercises. "Is that..." she muttered in vague apprehension.

"Master Kak!" Rudy was quick to say, releasing Nic's arm and giving their visitor a little bow. Nic did the same, wiping her arm across her brow as she did and managing a nervous smile of greeting. He was shorter than her, but that didn't count much in Nic's mind. The man looked like he'd been carved from teak; his face weathered, hair cropped short, eyes cool and calculating as they settled on Nic and Rudy. Master Kak, former U.S. champion, former Thai champion, and in his youth ranked third in the world. Retired now, sure, but that didn't mean he was any softer. And technically, he had no sway over them; Kak wasn't the head instructor and hadn't been for years, but he still held absolute respect in these walls.

"Rudy. Nicole." he stated in clipped, accented tones, "You are squandering space on the mats." Nic looked confused by that as Rudy stepped up with a soft cough. "Were you going to work out, sir? We can move if you'd like." Kak grunted wordlessly, shaking his head and stepping in closer to Rudy. "I look over, I see you two," he said in low tones, "Grappling. Playing like children. Mixing styles. She does not ascribe to those lessons, Rudy. Move along and train them on your own. I will refresh Nicole." Nic's eyes went wide in surprise at hearing that, and for a moment Rudy looked as though he might stammer an argument, but he quickly thought better of it. With another quick bow he moved off, shooting a worried look back at Nic as he headed to one of the sparring rings.

Looking away from him, Nic glanced over as Kak walked to one side, grabbing striking pads from a wall rack and sliding them into place on each hand. She turned to face him as he headed over, stretching her legs quickly and rolling her neck with a pop. Training with him? Stay calm. It's your first week, he's not going to kill you yet. Maybe that's next week. Stepping in front of her, Kak held a mitt out to each side and stared at her calculatingly from between them. "Left cross," he stated flatly. It was jarring to be so direct, and in the second it took Nic to process that she wasn't being given an explanation of what they'd be doing? Kak hit her.

His left came out with the training pad, smacking across the side of her face audibly and garnering a few looks from the people nearby. "What the fuck?" Nic snapped, reaching up with a taped hand to rub at her cheek. Kak didn't even blink as he brought his hand back in line with the other. "Left cross," he told her again, and this time Nic was ready. She threw a fist, arm crossing over as she hit the pad forcefully, grunting a little. "Sloppy," Kak said, shaking his head a little, "Right cross." The 'sloppy' comment had birthed a retort on Nic's tongue, but the time it took her to decide not to say it? She got hit again.

It was the same right he'd instructed her on, this time slapping the side of her face and her ear, leaving a faint ringing in its' wake. "Right cross," Kak repeated, his calm demeanor now a warning that he was, apparently, always ready to give her a demonstration. She swung again, following it with another right and a left as he called out each strike. When he abruptly switched to straight hits? Well, she got a lighter slap. The same happened when the pads dipped low or came to bear in front of him as Kak incorporated basic kicks. Gradually it became a familiar, if tiring rhythm that Nic fell into, dimming her attention to leave enough awareness to listen for each called hit.

She was feeling good about this, loving the weary burn in her arms and legs, dying for a cigarette, eager to see Caleb again, take your pick. The exercise should've focused her thoughts, but she'd found a pattern to things that she could daydream in. Until, quite suddenly, she felt a strong hit in one leg, saw the ceiling, and felt her back hit the mats. Kak loomed above her, and this time he was smiling faintly. "I said left leg sweep, not right. I corrected you," he said in a gravelly tone, stepping back as Nic clambered back to her feet, rubbing her ass and stretching.

Dropping back into a ready stance, Nic held it for a moment before she dropped, Kak never raising the pads again. He stepped in a little, shaking his head at her. "You are elsewhere in your thoughts," he observed dryly, "This is fool's choice, to think beyond the moment of the fight. Even if you think of next move, you make yourself weaker. When you fight? Fight. Time for thinking later. Train hard, care only for the training when you do it. Do not waste the time you pay for, do not make it worthless." It was good advice, and Nic's shoulders heaved with heavy breaths as she nodded in understanding. The moment her head dipped? One of those pads slapped her cheek again, her hands coming up swinging an instant later.

Kak laughed roughly, stepping back enough for Nic's temper to realize just who she was swinging at and die down. "Also, never drop guard," he told her with a wider grin than she'd ever seen on the guy, "Fight is not over until one of you does not get up." She was still pissed, cheeks red and burning from the slaps, and all she could do was nod again. Nic didn't have to fight hard to keep from swinging as Kak came back over, speaking in a lower tone beneath the blare of music and the sound of all the other trainers. "Rudy wastes your time," he said bluntly once he was in close enough, "The techniques he learns are futile, and he likes to 'train' every girl who signs up here. Give him a chance? He will do the same to you. Unless he already has." Kak nodded at the side of Nic's neck, drawing a faint blush to her cheeks as she shook her head.

"God, no," she assured him with a laugh, "I just met him. That's from... someone else." Kak chuckled and shook his head, stepping back. "I understand. I was young man once? But my bruises were result of fight, yes? Yours... different sort of fight." She felt the blush deepen; this man was old enough to be her father at least. "Something like that," Nic agreed with a laugh, "I'm here so I can beat him up next time."

Kak laughed again, slipping off one of the mits. "This country..." he trailed off in amusement, abruptly raising the remaining pad. "Right cross!" he commanded, and after as many smacks as she'd taken? Nic was ready. She lunged forward, smacking her right hand into the pad as Kak laughed again, stepping back with her movement. "Two straight left!" he barked as she followed his cues, shoulders rolling to let the punches follow each other fluidly. "Teeb!" came the last command, the pad dropping to Kak's chest. Nic snapped her foot up and out, thrusting from the calf with a growl of determination. The kick seemed like a winner? But then Kak hopped back with a smirk, letting Nic's leg overextend as it passed through empty air, dropping her in a sprawl once more.

She just laid there for a moment as a low chuckle started in her gut, bringing awareness of how far-reaching her soreness was. Nic sat up to get a look at Kak as he slipped the pad away. "And you are back to where you began," he observed, "This is lesson. Think on it later. Train now." Returning the pads to the rack, Kak started back towards the front of the gym, glancing back momentarily. "Sign-up sheet for next competition is in front," he informed her thoughtfully, seeming surprised when Nic shook her head. "I'm not here to compete," she told him, rising to her feet with a little groan of stiffness. "Just... learning."

Nic liked the look of approval Kak gave her at that, nodding his head in apparent understanding. "I hope you keep doing that," he told her simply, walking away and shooting a look at Rudy as the younger man crossed paths with him, heading back Nic's way. "Not bad!" Rudy praised with a smile, "He's pretty hard on people, even the chicks. Looks like you did okay, though." He reached out as if to drape an arm on Nic's shoulder, and with what Kak had just told her? Well, the gesture wasn't one Nic was wild about any more. "You tell me," she murmured, snapping a foot out and sweeping his leg just as kak had shown her minutes earlier. It was satisfying watching Rudy's balance suddenly vanish, legs going to one side as he dropped in a heap.

"What the fuck, Nic?" he blurted, scrambling to rise and getting halfway there before she leaned in, clapping him on the arm. "My mom's coming to pick me up, champ," she told him with a grin, "And for the record? I don't need you grinding your dick into me and calling it 'grappling'. Find someone blond and stupid for that." She walked away before he could answer, moving in a smooth line for the cubbies that he;d her gym bag. Nic shouldered it, moving for the front door with a smile on her face that didn't falter for an instant as she saw Kak lingering nearby, talking with one of the instructors. He just nodded, and she nodded back before she stepped out, breathing in the cool air as it chilled the sweat on her skin.