no one man should have all that power

[perro]

CHARACTERS: rene ramirez y tú.
LOCATIONS: the ice castle, sucker punch, all over the city.
WARNINGS: none rn! will edit if that changes.
SUMMARY: OPEN catch-all log for rene ramirez for the month of august! come hang out with ya boi. closed starters in the comments, too. feel free to hmu at frickin / canary#4628 to plot w/ me, get a closed starter of your very own, or honestly just go on with your bad self and write something spontaneous to start us off!

THE ICE CASTLE.

( alright, so maybe this ain't exactly the type of gig rene was looking for when coming to this weird ass city, especially coming off from his swanky job as the deputy mayor's assistant in star city. it's definitely familiar, though, which is kinda nice. he thinks he might've even gotten a job back at star city's ice complex when he was a teenager if the managers there weren't so acutely aware of his history of aggressively chirping at opponents and instigating line brawls during the rink's own house league hockey games.

maybe you're a pro who left your skates at home, or someone just looking to learn the ropes at the ice castle's daily public skating session. rene's kind of a multipurpose worker here; he rocks a yellow jacket that reads "STAFF" across the back as he stands at the skate rental window, tries not to sound so dead inside as he asks: ) What size? Hockey or figure?

( he likes being a skate guard a hell of a lot more than manning the rental booth, especially dreading the horror of spraying each boot and wiping each blade clean as he puts them back at the end of his shift. the two hour public skating session allows him to let loose for a little bit, lace up his skates and skate the perimeter and generally mind his own business while making sure jackasses aren't trying to cut little kids off or icing innocent bystanders by the door when they aggressively skid to a stop, even if the temptation to really go for it and just speed around the corners with all his might is strong.

— shit, yeah, someone definitely busted ass bad over by the blue line. rene hustles over and stops with ease, a concerned eyebrow raised as he extends a hand. ) You good?

( maybe you're one of the little shits who likes to enjoy every last millisecond of your precious ice time that you paid for, and you linger on the ice even though it's 2:59:35 PM and rene's already got the big double doors at the end open, and he's climbing back up into the seat of the zamboni and cruising on out, aggressively beeping. ) Session's up, man! I ain't afraid to run you over!

SUCKER PUNCH.

( when he's not at work, rene's probably at sucker punch. honestly, the eternally tired-looking woman manning the front check-in desk once woke up enough to comment, "you again? i didn't even see you leave last night."

sucker punch is kinda what constitutes as rene's happy place here in cadelle, if he's even capable of such a thing. it's hard to feel happy when you're constantly worried about your little girl back at home, who probably thinks you don't give a damn about her, who thinks you abandoned her —

he spends hours at the punching bag instead, rapidfire punch after rapidfire punch as muttered curses in both english and spanish intermingle with his grunts until he thinks his knuckles might bleed — scratch that, until his knuckles do bleed, and it takes him a long time to notice shining red that barely stands out against the worn black leather of the bag, mostly noticing the smear of blood against his skin beneath his gloves.

it's probably an intense sight to see, but rene doesn't give a shit. nah, he just undoes the velcro of his gloves and lets them fall to the mat on the floor, sighs, almost defeated, as he lifts his hands to examine the damage, cringes as he flexes his fingers. )

AROUND THE CITY.

( perhaps you'd like to encounter rene elsewhere in the city; even though he's trying not to fall into old, bad habits, he might spend a night or two a week unwinding at the colonel's with a beer and watching some kind of sports or another from a bar stool, or maybe he'll be lucky enough to stumble in on criminALEs. the green room is definitely his style, too, if it means he can actually beat someone at something, even if it's gotta be pool. the vigilante wild dog, hockey mask on and twin pistols a-blazing, may even be spotted after night falls, when crime is afoot. get ready for his especially terrible brand of vigilantism, cadelle. )

Comments

enjoy the gifs, i've been obsessing.

[distractly]

( she's got ebony strands pulled up in an elastic, a few stray pieces having fallen to her temples, a slight curl at the nape of her neck or tucked behind an ear as she's en route to the familiar gym. it takes little thought, the trek from her building to sucker punch's bricked exterior with no more than gloves of her own, a water bottle, and phone in hand. she catches the reverberating echoes, the familiar sound of a curled fist hitting the firm plush of that punching bag, and a smirk plays across her lips.

never mind the fact that it's slipping to a slight pout, nearly, as the sight of her clearly sets him off his path. she allows him a moment of study, mainly because she busies herself doing the same—however it's with far different intentions. she'd considered stripping the ruby-red lipstick just because of his expectations of it, but isabelle lightwood was far from a girl to let another man steal such a staple from her. )

By all means, cari, don't stop on my account. ( there's already the slightest sheen of sweat like dew kissing her skin from the walk over, outfit consisting of a maroon sports bra and matching bottoms, mesh cuts at their sides and hugged just above the pronounced swell of her hips. )

i am, thx

[perro]

( it's the tattoos (well, what he sees as tattoos, anyways), admittedly, that cause rene's stare to linger for as long as it does. he didn't quite notice them on the screen of his phone that now seems way-too-small to do someone like isabelle justice, but now that he's seen them, he can't look away.

rene's not too good with his words when it comes to saying things out loud, but she's absolutely magnetic — the way the one tattoo, bold against her skin, stands stark on its own between curved hips and a tight sports bra. and speaking of — god damn, he ain't trying to be a super perv or anything, but jesus, the way that one just seems to perfectly placed between cleavage that would already be tantalizing enough on its own...

rene's a goddamn goner — he's screwed. he swallows hard, makes himself look at the floor for a second to get his shit together, before forcing his gaze back to her eyes, they're up there, hello. no, he can do this. he's got this.

he wipes his forehead with the back of his glove, lets out a breathy huff of laughter, hints of a smirk creeping onto the corners of his mouth. ) Didn't realize I was putting on a show. But if you're more into watching ...

[distractly]

( the double entendres were only to be expected— they hadn't messaged for long, yet however brief the exchange was that'd landed them here ( which spoke it's own tale, really ) she'd managed to figure a good majority of the way he carried himself. texts were revealing that way, and while she can't deny that he's all kinds of easy on the eyes, she's learned better than to let something as infantile as attraction distract her.

doesn't seem he can say the same, though she wouldn't take it as a crowning just yet. by the looks of him, intricate muscles within his arms flitting from just-prior contact with the bag, as if antsy to coast that adrenaline further, he trained well. whether it was professionally or merely a means to release, she found it didn't matter. a lithe shrug. )

Depends on my mood.

( that quirk to her lips blooms to a full grin, now, sauntering closer to set her phone and water bottle off on the far end of the nearest bench, curling shoulders back to situate her own gloves up snugly to her knuckles, strapping them tightly. slowly, she circles around to the opposite side of the bag, predatory smile still in place. ) I prefer to participate. ( syllables sharp, crown tipping to the side appraisingly. )

[perro]

( his smirk turns into a full-fledged grin at her response, a laugh barked. ) Good news for me, I guess. ( it's said as rene circles from his side of the bag, head tipped so he can keep catching a glance of her past tough black leather. this feels like a kind of dance, to see who dares make the first move, take the first shot. )

Wouldn't mind watching you fly solo, though, mami.

( the word is said with a certain emphasis, completely tongue-in-cheek, trying to goad her into swinging first through silly pet names and overt flirtation. at least, like this, he can focus on the physical — okay, no, he's definitely already way too focused on her physicality — he can focus on the physicality of their sparring, even if his mouth makes his tactics a little mental, too.

rene takes a step away from the bag back into the open space of the mat, spreads his arms wide with a cheeky grin, practically begging for her to come at him. ) We gonna do this little dance, or what?

[distractly]

( pink tongue runs across her teeth as that word slips all too neatly from his tongue, as if it'd only been waiting upon it's bed for the right moment to strike, far too suave and confident for her liking. she'd have to change that. of course, showing her distaste for the title would only foster his endearing ego. definitely couldn't have that. )

I'm sure you're used to letting the work be done for you, no?

( a dig for a dig—something that seemed to quickly become their preferred language. not once does her gaze shift from him as he moves, a brief flit down to the cross-step of his paces, offering himself like a taunting prize that could be so easily taken; she knows better than to underestimate, he wouldn't of compelled such a relentless bark if he didn't have some means of a bite to back it up.

already her adrenaline's kissing a teeming fire beneath her skin, grazing over to join him on the thin plush of the mat. it isn't like her to stay still, and so she doesn't, leveling him as she circles around him once more, and it's only once she's able to drift a sweet-toned murmur at his shoulder that she adds- ) Don't take it easy on me, querido. I'd hate to see you hurt.

[perro]

( her little quip earns her a laugh from rene; that's certainly an assumption that he might've gotten from a lot of ladies back in the day, and they'd probably be right if laura didn't happen to him, flip his world upside down. no use thinking about her right now though — that'll only dredge up feelings, guilt, even, that he'd rather not think about right now.

it's easier to distract himself with this song and dance of his and isabelle's, his gaze following her as she circles him slowly, maybe checking out her ass, maybe just trying to be prepared for when she strikes.

no attack comes, however, only words, murmured sugar-sweet near his ear as he feels her presence behind him. there's a small smile on his lips meant only for himself when he responds, ) I appreciate the concern, sweetheart, but you'd be better off worrying about yourself —

( which is, apparently, something he thinks he should do right now, 'cause he's too antsy for all this inaction if she's not gonna make the first move, than rene sure as hell will. lightning fast, he reaches across his own body to grab hold of her wrist, if her reflexes aren't too good, intending to yank her in front of him and use his other arm to pin her against him, keeping one of her arms firmly in his grip. )