[Locked to Jonathan O'Neill]

[a_baglady]

[Backdated like crazy after this thread.]

Ray is heading down to where he's pretty sure the Tower training rooms are at.

It wouldn't have taken him so long to get there, except his kitten won't stop following him. He swears, he puts it on the ground in his room, he closes the door, and the next thing he knows, it's attached to his leg again. Like

Comments

welp, time to dive into the many circles of backtag hell, right?

[nomanleftbehind]

Jack's already waiting in one of the training rooms, all geared up and ready to go; he's got the gloves on and the headgear fitted snugly onto his head, and he's doing a bit of bouncing, trying to loosen up his limbs for this showdown, when a ball of orange-striped fur wanders into the ring. Damn, he thinks, and stops. One of the many reasons as to why he prefers dogs; they actually do what they're told, for Christ's sake, which is more than what you can say about this kitten, which by now has discovered the joy that comes with being attached to Jack's ankle

I'M ALWAYS READY 8|

[a_baglady]

Ray sneers. Jonathon O’Neill is a lot older than he’d expected, and Ray’s about to consider going easy on the guy until he opens his piehole and starts yapping away at Ray. Never mind that then. “Just giving you extra time to get ready,” he says. “What with you being such an old-timer and all.”

The moment is ruined by the kittens - O’Neill’s suddenly got one on his helmet, and Ray starts to snicker until his own kitten somehow manages to pop out of the neckline of his t-shirt. “How the hell did you get up here?” Ray mutters. He tugs it out - gently, which he hopes O’Neill won’t notice - and tries to put it on the ground. “Hey! Cat! Stay. Jesus Christ.”

let's get this show started, yeah? :|

[nomanleftbehind]

Keep on your feet, Ray, and don't underestimate him. Boxing with Teal'c has taught Jack a few good tricks about going up against someone in much better condition than himself - and sorry, Ray, but you've got nothin' against Teal'c - and this old-timer's gonna clock you a good one in the face if you let him

....time to figure out how boxing actually works

[a_baglady]

If O’Neill wants to posture, then Ray’s sure as hell up for it. Being the lone and skinny white guy in the boxing gym meant learning how to bluff his way through a macho contest like the best of ‘em. He shucks off his jacket and throws it across one of the benches, taking care not to hit the kitten. Fortunately, O’Neill seems to be pretty distracted with his own kitten issues. Ray puts on a spare helmet and a pair of gloves, jumps around on his toes, then goes over to the punching bag and starts working away at it to warm up. He’s as eager as O’Neill is to get this show on the road, but he’s not about to start fucking up his muscles just for a match. He’s impatient, and prone to not giving a shit about his body, yeah, but this has pretty much been ingrained in him.

When he’s ready, he heads back and clambers up to step into the ring. Don’t trip, don’t trip, except shit, his foot catches on the rope and, flailing, he just barely manages to extract himself in time before he falls forward on his head. The gloves don’t exactly help out