CaptainBoyHole Comment/Review on the story readers and give me ideas on possible skills, situations, developments, and etc of things you want to see! No guarantees that I will add what you want. But it helps to have ideas out there. Please point out any mistakes you notice or anything you're not clear about. I'll try to answer them and fix them to the best of my abilities.
Zoey walked into the boxing gym with her gear. She was still a little bit upset with Coach but understood that without him, there was no opportunity for her to advance in the fighting world. After thinking that, Zoey realized that maybe that wasn’t true. While she hasn’t been recognized yet as a fighter in the YFTL at school or in public, she knew it was going to happen eventually. There had to be coaches from all over willing to steal her from the Coach’s grip.
She might not be one of the best boxers, but she would say she had some pretty damn good potential for becoming a world champion or whatever. As long as she works more on her ground game, Zoey felt that she could become unbeatable in the ring. But that was still a while away for now. Right now, she just has to master boxing itself. Something that will only take time with her new Boxing skill.
Boxing is all of her previous boxing skills combined into one. Once they all passed level 10, they merged into this skill. Even though the skill was at level one, Zoey didn’t feel as if she forgot anything or was a worse fighter than before it merged. It was actually the opposite. All of those skills becoming one made Zoey feel like she was a well-oiled machine that could do anything boxing-related perfectly.
“Hey, Zoey.” Dylan greeted her with a smile as he shadowboxed next to the mirror.
“Hi, Dylan.” Zoey had some time before she started her own training. She could spare a few minutes to try and level up Teaching.
“Did you really get mad with the Coach when he didn’t let you fight?” Dylan whispered.
“I wasn’t happy, but I wasn’t mad either.” She answered, not willing to share that much with him. “I had other stuff to do.”
“Zoey. How can you go into the ring and just fight like that?” He asked, dropping his stance.
“What do you mean?” She just fought.
“Like, you aren’t afraid to get hit. You aren’t afraid to fight and rush into dangerous situations. But you still keep a calm head and don’t panic even if things don’t go right. Like, you’re so amazing in the ring, and I just...”
“Have you done your first spar yet?” Zoey suddenly asked.
“No, I haven’t. Why?”
“Maybe you’ll be able to understand if you get in the ring for yourself, but first, let me teach you a few things first.” Zoey wanted to see how well her teaching skill worked.
Dylan was mostly taught by her, with Zoey telling him everything she knew about boxing. The other recently joined boxers either learned by watching the amateur and professional boxers train or had someone directly teaching them. She basically told him everything that Zack told her, and he soaked it up like a sponge, thirsting for water. If she knew anything about talent, she would say Dylan was a pretty talented boxer, but it takes more than talent to be a good fighter. He needs experience, he needs the right mindset, and he needs to want to get even better.
...
“Are you ready?” Zoey asked as she gave him his headgear.
“No.” He answered honestly, sweat dripping from his forehead.
“You’ll be fine. Remember, you’re just showing off everything you learned. You are not trying to knock him out or beat him. Just putting into practice what you have learned.” She told him.
“Okay... Okay...” He took a deep breath and turned around to face his opponent.
‘Tch. Putting me against this fucking nerd in a spar?’ Tate Owens scoffed.
Tate went to the same school as Dylan and knew exactly who he was and why he was here. There was no chance a guy like this could stand a chance against him. He was taught by that black girl the entire time he’s been here, and she wasn’t even a professional fighter! While he and the other guys were taught by coaches who had experience in guiding boxers and fought in official boxing matches.
This sparring match was going to turn into a one-sided beating. Something that Dylan had to be used to by this point. Tate was actually surprised his coach even played along with that black girl’s request. When she asked him for a boxer that started around the same time Dylan did, he was more than happy to give him away for a spar against him. Was there something he didn’t know about that black chick? Why did his coach treat her so nicely?
“Are you both ready?!” One of the amateur fighters yelled, obviously in a good mood for the spar ahead.
He stood on the outside of the ring, hanging on the ropes. Both Dylan and Tate nodded in response. That black girl whispered something into the dork’s ear, but no matter what she told him, he was going to get his ass kicked. Tate was confident in being able to accept official bouts soon and become an amateur boxer himself.
“Watch carefully, everyone. I’ll have you all doing more of this soon.” His coach told to the other guys he taught.
“Begin!” Tate confidently rushed in to pound Dylan’s face.
He threw a straight punch with the power of his hips, shoulders, and legs behind it, only for Dylan to lean out of the way and scurry away to get some distance. Tate didn’t understand how that scrawny little chicken could avoid his punch but promised to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. If the little nerd had some balls, he could’ve thrown a punch right there and gave him a good one. This was definitely going to be a piece of cake.
Tate slowly closed in on Dylan, who seemed determined to not let him in close. Eventually, he cornered him in the corner. Moving his body to the left whenever Dylan tried to and then moving to the right when he tried escaping that way. Now he had no choice but to take his punches. He’s been wanting to test these combinations out on someone ever since he learned them.
Left jab, left jab, right cross. Dylan’s head bobbed to the right and to the right again before going under Tate’s fist as it came closing in on him. His eyes were open as wide as possible. Zoey explicitly told him to keep his eyes open, or he will get hit. Getting hit was something he wanted to avoid at all costs.
“What are you doing, kid? Punch him! Don’t just run!” Someone yelled at him.
Left jab, right cross, left hook, right cross. In the eyes of those watching, Dylan was like an untouchable little rat! No matter what Tate threw at him, he could avoid it and slip past him. Everyone could see that Tate was running out of steam from throwing all those punches at full power and landing absolutely none of them. It wasn’t until Zoey’s voice came in that things started to take a different turn.
“Why are you running?” Her voice was basically a whisper in comparison to the other guys screaming.
“Quit fucking running, you pussy!” Tate yelled, his fist heading straight for his face.
Dylan’s eyes watched that fist fly right toward him. After it slipped past his head with a sway of his head, he did exactly what he felt that Zoey was telling him. His right fist came surging from below right into Tate’s unprotected stomach. The feeling of his fist landing felt so unfamiliar that Dylan nearly forgot to follow up. Punching a person felt completely different from punching a punching bag or the air. Whether he liked it or not was not something he could think about right now.
Spittle flew from Tate’s mouth with his head hanging low, clutching his stomach. Dylan raised up and, seeing the vulnerable face of Tate, threw a left hook into a right hook into a miss? As he was about to finish his combination, he was suddenly picked up from behind as the assistant coach slipped into the ring and caught Tate before he fell. His eyes were cloudy, and he was barely conscious.
“Tate! How many fingers am I holding up?!” He kept Tate’s head steady, putting up three fingers in front of his face.
“I’m not done yet... I didn’t lose...” He didn’t answer the question.
“Someone bring me an ice bag for him!” He shouted. The coach supported his neck and head as he kept Tate still, carefully lying him down on the ring without twisting or turning his head.
“Can you put me down now, Zoey?” His face was flushed at being picked up by a girl so easily. It was like he weighed nothing to her at all.
“Sorry.” She put him down. “You did well for your first spar. Next time we try this, go a little bit softer so that you don’t knock your opponent out. Sparring is just to gain experience in the ring and to put your training into practice. And remember to throw punches when you have the chance.”
“Sorry, and thank you.” He nodded, taking her teachings to heart.
“Hey, you!” The assistant coach called out to him.
“Huh?”
“You did pretty good besides going further than you needed to. Would you be willing to spar with some of my other guys in the future?” He asked.
“Oh, uhm, sure.” Dylan rubbed his head, he tried to scratch it but he still had his gloves on.
“Glad to hear it, kid!”
Zoey saw that her teaching skill leveled up by one after Dylan’s victory. She wanted to do a little victory dance after seeing her student win against a real coach’s student. He might’ve looked down on Dylan and thought he would be easy work but still. Dylan fought in a careful manner, unlike his opponent, who fought recklessly with no thoughts about his defense. It was his complete victory, no matter what way you looked at it.
“ZOEY!? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!?” Coach Scott came screaming from out the back.
‘Uh oh. I don’t think I've ever heard him sound like this before.’ Zoey slipped out of the ring and made her way to his office with everyone’s eyes on her.
CaptainBoyHole Uh oh... I wonder what could make Coach scream this loudly involving Zoey.
CaptainBoyHole Comment/Review on the story readers and give me ideas on possible skills, situations, developments, and etc of things you want to see! No guarantees that I will add what you want. But it helps to have ideas out there. Please point out any mistakes you notice or anything you're not clear about. I'll try to answer them and fix them to the best of my abilities.
Zoey walked into the boxing gym with her gear. She was still a little bit upset with Coach but understood that without him, there was no opportunity for her to advance in the fighting world. After thinking that, Zoey realized that maybe that wasn’t true. While she hasn’t been recognized yet as a fighter in the YFTL at school or in public, she knew it was going to happen eventually. There had to be coaches from all over willing to steal her from the Coach’s grip.
She might not be one of the best boxers, but she would say she had some pretty damn good potential for becoming a world champion or whatever. As long as she works more on her ground game, Zoey felt that she could become unbeatable in the ring. But that was still a while away for now. Right now, she just has to master boxing itself. Something that will only take time with her new Boxing skill.
Boxing is all of her previous boxing skills combined into one. Once they all passed level 10, they merged into this skill. Even though the skill was at level one, Zoey didn’t feel as if she forgot anything or was a worse fighter than before it merged. It was actually the opposite. All of those skills becoming one made Zoey feel like she was a well-oiled machine that could do anything boxing-related perfectly.
“Hey, Zoey.” Dylan greeted her with a smile as he shadowboxed next to the mirror.
“Hi, Dylan.” Zoey had some time before she started her own training. She could spare a few minutes to try and level up Teaching.
“Did you really get mad with the Coach when he didn’t let you fight?” Dylan whispered.
“I wasn’t happy, but I wasn’t mad either.” She answered, not willing to share that much with him. “I had other stuff to do.”
“Zoey. How can you go into the ring and just fight like that?” He asked, dropping his stance.
“What do you mean?” She just fought.
“Like, you aren’t afraid to get hit. You aren’t afraid to fight and rush into dangerous situations. But you still keep a calm head and don’t panic even if things don’t go right. Like, you’re so amazing in the ring, and I just...”
“Have you done your first spar yet?” Zoey suddenly asked.
“No, I haven’t. Why?”
“Maybe you’ll be able to understand if you get in the ring for yourself, but first, let me teach you a few things first.” Zoey wanted to see how well her teaching skill worked.
Dylan was mostly taught by her, with Zoey telling him everything she knew about boxing. The other recently joined boxers either learned by watching the amateur and professional boxers train or had someone directly teaching them. She basically told him everything that Zack told her, and he soaked it up like a sponge, thirsting for water. If she knew anything about talent, she would say Dylan was a pretty talented boxer, but it takes more than talent to be a good fighter. He needs experience, he needs the right mindset, and he needs to want to get even better.
...
“Are you ready?” Zoey asked as she gave him his headgear.
“No.” He answered honestly, sweat dripping from his forehead.
“You’ll be fine. Remember, you’re just showing off everything you learned. You are not trying to knock him out or beat him. Just putting into practice what you have learned.” She told him.
“Okay... Okay...” He took a deep breath and turned around to face his opponent.
‘Tch. Putting me against this fucking nerd in a spar?’ Tate Owens scoffed.
Tate went to the same school as Dylan and knew exactly who he was and why he was here. There was no chance a guy like this could stand a chance against him. He was taught by that black girl the entire time he’s been here, and she wasn’t even a professional fighter! While he and the other guys were taught by coaches who had experience in guiding boxers and fought in official boxing matches.
This sparring match was going to turn into a one-sided beating. Something that Dylan had to be used to by this point. Tate was actually surprised his coach even played along with that black girl’s request. When she asked him for a boxer that started around the same time Dylan did, he was more than happy to give him away for a spar against him. Was there something he didn’t know about that black chick? Why did his coach treat her so nicely?
“Are you both ready?!” One of the amateur fighters yelled, obviously in a good mood for the spar ahead.
He stood on the outside of the ring, hanging on the ropes. Both Dylan and Tate nodded in response. That black girl whispered something into the dork’s ear, but no matter what she told him, he was going to get his ass kicked. Tate was confident in being able to accept official bouts soon and become an amateur boxer himself.
“Watch carefully, everyone. I’ll have you all doing more of this soon.” His coach told to the other guys he taught.
“Begin!” Tate confidently rushed in to pound Dylan’s face.
He threw a straight punch with the power of his hips, shoulders, and legs behind it, only for Dylan to lean out of the way and scurry away to get some distance. Tate didn’t understand how that scrawny little chicken could avoid his punch but promised to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. If the little nerd had some balls, he could’ve thrown a punch right there and gave him a good one. This was definitely going to be a piece of cake.
Tate slowly closed in on Dylan, who seemed determined to not let him in close. Eventually, he cornered him in the corner. Moving his body to the left whenever Dylan tried to and then moving to the right when he tried escaping that way. Now he had no choice but to take his punches. He’s been wanting to test these combinations out on someone ever since he learned them.
Left jab, left jab, right cross. Dylan’s head bobbed to the right and to the right again before going under Tate’s fist as it came closing in on him. His eyes were open as wide as possible. Zoey explicitly told him to keep his eyes open, or he will get hit. Getting hit was something he wanted to avoid at all costs.
“What are you doing, kid? Punch him! Don’t just run!” Someone yelled at him.
Left jab, right cross, left hook, right cross. In the eyes of those watching, Dylan was like an untouchable little rat! No matter what Tate threw at him, he could avoid it and slip past him. Everyone could see that Tate was running out of steam from throwing all those punches at full power and landing absolutely none of them. It wasn’t until Zoey’s voice came in that things started to take a different turn.
“Why are you running?” Her voice was basically a whisper in comparison to the other guys screaming.
“Quit fucking running, you pussy!” Tate yelled, his fist heading straight for his face.
Dylan’s eyes watched that fist fly right toward him. After it slipped past his head with a sway of his head, he did exactly what he felt that Zoey was telling him. His right fist came surging from below right into Tate’s unprotected stomach. The feeling of his fist landing felt so unfamiliar that Dylan nearly forgot to follow up. Punching a person felt completely different from punching a punching bag or the air. Whether he liked it or not was not something he could think about right now.
Spittle flew from Tate’s mouth with his head hanging low, clutching his stomach. Dylan raised up and, seeing the vulnerable face of Tate, threw a left hook into a right hook into a miss? As he was about to finish his combination, he was suddenly picked up from behind as the assistant coach slipped into the ring and caught Tate before he fell. His eyes were cloudy, and he was barely conscious.
“Tate! How many fingers am I holding up?!” He kept Tate’s head steady, putting up three fingers in front of his face.
“I’m not done yet... I didn’t lose...” He didn’t answer the question.
“Someone bring me an ice bag for him!” He shouted. The coach supported his neck and head as he kept Tate still, carefully lying him down on the ring without twisting or turning his head.
“Can you put me down now, Zoey?” His face was flushed at being picked up by a girl so easily. It was like he weighed nothing to her at all.
“Sorry.” She put him down. “You did well for your first spar. Next time we try this, go a little bit softer so that you don’t knock your opponent out. Sparring is just to gain experience in the ring and to put your training into practice. And remember to throw punches when you have the chance.”
“Sorry, and thank you.” He nodded, taking her teachings to heart.
“Hey, you!” The assistant coach called out to him.
“Huh?”
“You did pretty good besides going further than you needed to. Would you be willing to spar with some of my other guys in the future?” He asked.
“Oh, uhm, sure.” Dylan rubbed his head, he tried to scratch it but he still had his gloves on.
“Glad to hear it, kid!”
Zoey saw that her teaching skill leveled up by one after Dylan’s victory. She wanted to do a little victory dance after seeing her student win against a real coach’s student. He might’ve looked down on Dylan and thought he would be easy work but still. Dylan fought in a careful manner, unlike his opponent, who fought recklessly with no thoughts about his defense. It was his complete victory, no matter what way you looked at it.
“ZOEY!? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!?” Coach Scott came screaming from out the back.
‘Uh oh. I don’t think I've ever heard him sound like this before.’ Zoey slipped out of the ring and made her way to his office with everyone’s eyes on her.
CaptainBoyHole Uh oh... I wonder what could make Coach scream this loudly involving Zoey.
