Don't Try This at Home (Mitch)

[Valencia Donahue]

[SKATER 1]: “No, I’m serious! I heard that two martial artist masters challenged each other on the ice and one of them died! Sliced up---SHHHHHZZZ!! Those blades killed him dead!”

[SKATER 2]: “I don’t know whether to be in awe or making fun of you for that corny story. Where did you hear it, online? Or did you just watch ‘Blades of Glory’? Iron Lotus~”

Valencia can’t remember the last time she went to a skate park. All she knows is that the last time she skated, on ice or concrete, it was purely for the circus—Only for the applause after the trick, not necessarily the collective gasp given to professionals. They hired pros for those kinds of stunts in movies, not Valencia. She sat on the bench to put on her rollerblades and protective gear, especially her goggles over her silver eyes and helmet concealing her tied up hair. As she put on her elbow pads and kneepads over her jeans, she recognized some regulars who either practiced inline skating or skateboarding. They taught her some of their tricks while she did the rest. Years of circus training can go a long way. It was sunny, cool day and Valencia couldn’t help but wonder how fighting on any kind of skates could work.

I can sorta see kicks and all-out knocking people over at high speeds, but physics said something about not getting very far by standing in one place with no friction, right? One punch and you’ll be sliding back? Gah… I remember Rosemary helping me with every bit of physics… She’s the coordinator, I’m the stuntwoman. Even now I have no idea how combat on states would work, much less on a skateboard, but it’d be cool to watch… Or try out…

The Vietnamese woman kept eavesdropping, getting ready to put in a mouthguard. She had a hunch that someone would notice her eventually and require a reply from her before she protects her mouth from significant harm of some sort… The regulars or someone different altogether.

[yaboylolo]

Oh, shit. I guess I could watch some white boys bust they head.

Mitch McClatchy. Freshman at Hircine. Roaming. He had time to sort-of screw around & look through San Francisco, considering he hadn't seen all of it...in reality, a small piece of himself wanted to see what else was out there besides him living decent in a mostly black neighborhood. His world had larger horizons, though they were missing everything in between. Somewhere inside, Mitch wanted to fill that space with geography.

He'd caught a Muni bus down the street from the skate park by coincidence. Mitch was surprised to find the place, a bit of a gem amongst Frisco's tall buildings & multi-story residencies. As for the italicised quote at the top of this dissertation, that was his way of not admitting to himself that he'd gotten tired of being in that little world of his. It was your typical setting---a few whities doing tricks without falling, & some whities who..erm, did fall---Mitch cringed at one guy off to the side who'd be lucky to not need dentures.

Side note: Mitch isn't racist, just not used to many other races around him.

The freshman stood off to the side, merely observing when he felt something jingle in his pockets...& found a hand next to it, leading to an arm...to the body of who may or may not have been a regular. The guy snatched Mitch's house keys & also caught a fist in return by the heavily-clothed kid, considering he was walking around in both a puffy coat & a hoodie; it was probably a miracle he even stuck the guy in the jaw. Only problem was, it didn't take this kid down. Mitch, not wanting to be robbed for anything, took off after the guy who'd proceeded to run; he noticed he was running towards some blondie, though that was all he saw of the person as Mitch made a wild lunge, aiming to deck the guy with a hard right hook from behind.

Too bad the thief ducked, only for Mitch to notice at the last second that the blonde he saw was a girl...& his fist was going straight for the kisser.

[Valencia Donahue]

Valencia continued to listen in as the conversation diverged into totally different topics, which caused her to lose interest altogether. There was no need for her to say much when the guys were more engaged talking amongst themselves. Her attention wandered as she put in her mouthguard and heard the faint but swift approach of people on the run. The first set of footsteps belonged to a regular that no one in particular liked, but it’d be weird if he didn’t show his face at least once a day at the skate park. The other one was a complete stranger, judging by the cadence of his run, and of all things he did… He swung a right hook aiming for Valencia’s left cheek or somewhere around her face. It didn’t matter if he aimed for the regular or for her, since she wasn’t paying attention to what she was seeing—The result of her quick impulses would’ve been the same.

She turned to her right for the fist to run over her left shoulder and brush against her neck. Her left hand grabbed for Mitch’s arm or wrist, whatever it got hold of, while her right elbow swung towards the back of the stranger’s arm, upper or right on the elbow where it’d probably hurt most. While Valencia’s actions may be considered alright as a general counter, her recklessness revealed some crucial flaws that may lead to her own undoing… For one, if she actually knew what she was up against, she probably would’ve devised a more specialized and effective way of dispatching her opponent. Knowing the length of someone’s arm, weight, and height can go a long way, y’know. For another… Ehh… Valencia was still wearing her skates. Meaning, that turn of hers took her off-guard and before she knew it, she may fall on her knee or fall somewhere else depending on what’ll happen next.