[center][b][u]12:07 AM, March 28th
Warehouse District; Hub City, Illinois[/u][/b]

It had taken some time for Bruce to find a suitable empty space in a city like Hub. Still, he'd persevered and worked to find a warehouse that was reasonably clean, not currently in use and not cluttered with too much wastage. The end result was this place, where he'd carried the Question before laying him out on an old, disused couch without too many stains, waiting for him to eventually wake.

---

[b][u]6:31 AM[/u][/b]

His dreams had started out pleasantly, memories of his more pleasant days at the orphanage. Playing tag, climbing the trees, baseball. It was nice, reliving it all again.

However, Oscar Ellison was never the most lucky guy. It wasn't too long before they got worse.

Days spent going hungry in his dingy apartment, working long hours and getting paid the minimal amount, all the while repeating to himself in his mind that [color=004b80][i]'it'll all be worth it, it'll all be worth it'[/i]. [/color] Patrolling the freezing streets, beating criminals senseless. Searching through a dumpster for evidence, [color=004b80][i]'this is the cook's dump site,'[/i] [/color] and finding that evidence but also discovering a deceased infant, wrapped in a plastic bag and decaying vegetable matt-

With a shuddering breath, the Question awakened, jolting straight up. He looked around, whilst standing up. [color=004b80]"Where am I?"[/color] he muttered to himself.

Bruce looked up from where he'd been meditating in anticipation of Question regaining consciousness.

[color=lemonchiffon]"A space I prepared for emergencies. I thought it would be better than leaving a masked man unconscious on the street. So, right before you passed out you decided to accept my training. Do you still want to do this, or was it a decision made from sleep deprivation?"[/color]

It all came back to the masked vigilante. He mulled it over in his head. He was strong, but one of these days he could be taken down. He needed the training. "... Right. I still accept it."

Bruce grinned at the confirmation and sprung up from the lotus position with a surprising lack of stiffness, holding a hand out to help Question off of the old couch [color=lemonchiffon]"In that case, shall we start now?"[/color]

The Question gladly accepted the man's hand, using it to pull himself off the couch. [color=004b80]"Now? ... Hm, I suppose there's no better time."[/color]

After he pulled the masked vigilante up, he lead him to a cleared off space with some boxes and old pieces of pipe cleared away to form a wide circle, on which a number of mattresses had been thrown down to make improvised crash-mats. [color=lemonchiffon]"First, I need to see what I'm working with when you're not about to pass out. So...set yourself up and attack me. Don't hold back, or we won't get anywhere."[/color]

Throwing off his hat and trench coat, the Question moved into a fighting stance. [color=004b80]"You sure? Look kinda old, but then again..."[/color] He would then run forward, having talked in an attempt to distract his new mentor, trying to deliver a cross punch to the man's face.

Bruce simply stepped in as The Question rushed him, grabbed his arm while shifting it off-course and tugging him off balance, then pivoted his hips into The Question and threw him to the ground. [color=lemonchiffon]"Good. No hesitation, and decent punching technique. But you've been fighting untrained thugs and mafiosi used to punching down for too long."[/color]

One minute he was about to land an easy shot, the next he was on his back whilst his teacher gave a quick analysis of what he did. [color=004b80]"Shit." [/color] Question bounced back up, getting into a fighting stance again. [color=004b80]"Alright, that was just a warm up."[/color] He began to slowly inch away, aiming to grab one of the pipes and throw it at the man.

[color=004b80]"... Time for the real show."[/color] As quickly as he could, the masked detective grabbed a pipe off the ground and threw it at his opponent's arm.

Bruce shifted slightly to the side and to prove a point, caught the pipe as it would have sailed by him. [color=lemonchiffon]"A good improvisation, but too slow. Thought must flow instantly to action as soon as a strategy is formed, or hesitation will bring failure."[/color] He briefly flourished the pipe enough to show he would have no problems using it before letting it go.

Question ran this through his head, not even giving a nod or a "yes" before picking up one of the mattresses used as makeshift crashpads, and pushing it as fast as he could towards Bruce before trying to pin the man with it.

Bruce allowed himself to be bowled over by the mattress, but as he fell he rolled back and kicked upwards with his legs, turning the weight of himself, the mattress and the Question into power for a sacrifice throw propelled by his kick.

[color=004b80]"Got you no-AAAAAAAH!"[/color] The Question yelled as he went flying with the mattress. He hit the ground, the mattress landing on top of him. After a moment of resting, he pushed it off of himself, rising up once more. [color=004b80]"Looks like improv won't help. Why don't we just handle this the old fashioned way?"[/color] He asked, whilst rolling up his sleeves.

By this time, Bruce had jumped back to his feet and now stood in a neutral stance, one hand out in the typical 'bring it on' gesture and clearly enjoying himself. [color=lemonchiffon]"I'm looking forward to it."[/color]

Despite himself, the vigilante let out a chuckle. [color=004b80]"Heh. Bring it on, old man."[/color] He said, amusement evident in his voice. He would pull a quick stutterstep, before advancing at a slow pace. Once he was only two yards away from Bruce, he would throw two quick jabs at the older man's abdomen.

Bruce slapped both low jabs down and away with open hands while stepping in toward Question, then flung one hand at the vigilante's face to try and get him to step back or shift his weight to lean away, before scything in with his foot to try and trip the masked man up.

Rather than lean away from the hand, the Question brought up his own hand to block it. However, when Bruce scythed the masked man's foot, he began to fall back. He managed to catch himself, though as he tried to regain his balance he was open to an attack.

Bruce simply pushed forward and tucked his in the arm he'd struck with, launching off his rear foot as he half-tackled, half shoved at the Question's center of balance with his forearm and shoulder, looking to send him crashing to the ground again in the instant he was off his footing.

Needless to say, the Question fell once more. [color=004b80]"... Okay, you win." He said, pulling himself back up. "That give you a good enough idea of my fighting style?"[/color]

Bruce seemed pretty content as he watched the Question pick himself up, though he had obviously enjoyed the little bout. [color=lemonchiffon]"Definitely rough, but you have good instincts and quick wits. With more training and a more diverse set of tools, you could become formidable."[/color] 

He paused for a moment and looked the Question over.

[color=lemonchiffon]"But first, we need to do something about your conditioning. A life of sugar cubes and...office work? It makes for a poor foundation."[/color]

[color=004b80]"Poor foundation? Sorry to break it to you, but I kinda need a job to keep afloat, and the sugar cubes... Well, they hit the blood stream quicker than coffee."[/color] Question replies, picking up and putting on his hat, before picking up his trench coat and throwing it over his shoulder.

Bruce couldn't stop a certain amount of amusement from showing on his face at the Question's reply. [color=lemonchiffon]"If that's the case, I'll simply have to make you work twice as hard as I would anyone else when you aren't busy destroying your body."[/color][/center]