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leon's face was aghast, stark white when he read the text that was meant for only him, fingers shaking like a seizure on the horizon for the physically fit behemoth.

It wasn't a text from Doctor H, But from Clarice. Miss " I can cleave you in half like butter." hunter. While he was sure the doc had a minor amount of respect for hm and what he could offer to the squad, where he took with Clarice was totally up in the air.

Of all the people in the life squadron he didn't want to piss off, it was her and the leader of course, so he didn't even bother trying to take the long route to her office.

And he dared not to look at her desk when he arrived. "you wanted to see me?" he asked as sternly as his voice would let him. The after effects of the horseman from before's sheer power still played with his mind as he dumbly went by the desk and stood there like a British guard.

He really hoped it involved punching something right about now.

It took a moment of deep breathing but Leon took Clarice's advice and let the tension from his shoulders melt away as he slinked into a chair. "uh yes, that is correct." he said almost automatically, the odd sense that it was once his former career washed over him. He had to admit to himself, boxer turned nightmarish creature fighter was not written in the tarot card fortune he had years ago.

His chest swelled up in pride over how his superiors knew of his past and well, after all the years of dedication to it, it felt nice to be known for it by people that weren't a bunch of drinking, gambling, violent buffoons that sat in the crowd during matches.

And then He watched as the senior hunter flipped the screen around and pressed play. cheeks turned crimson from the embarrassment of getting busted as he tried not to fidget and look down in despair, but straight at her and the video. At least his stance was good.

"In my defense, I'm sure the dollars that Robert gave me were counterfeit and prevented me from completing my task."

When in doubt, Blame Robert, It was probably the best way to get out of trouble.
Ineffective, but still best.

And he had to wonder, did she HAVE to drink that juice box right now, or was she just trying to send a subliminal message to make him feel the need to pee? Because in that case....


it was working.

The boxer heard the very distinctive HA-HA of Nidhogg in his mind, happily rumbling away in glee at the carriers misfortune while Leon tried not to frown at the punishment. Odds are that cleaning was much better than whatever torture they were putting the plum haired hunter through.

Leon managed to get his ansty fidgeting under control when Clarices eyes locked onto his and made the hunter want to take a dive in the ring. "Like they were a championship trophy and belt." he replied back in a grave tone. Step one was to find wherever they kept the cleaning supplies.

Considering the stark whiteness of the facility, he figured they must have a ton of the stuff in a room somewhere.

He did however felt a keen interest in whoever she was hinting at. "Oh?" he asked almost instinctively at the prospect and the vagueness of it all. "Should i have taken the foresight to wear a protective cup then?"

Who the heck could be interested in punching all the things?

It was all calm, leon was perfectly fine sitting here, watching Clarice sip on juice and enjoying some liver with fava beans and a nice chianti until all hell broke loose when the chair spun around to.

"WE HAVE THE A TEAM IN DEUS?" came the indignant reply as Killzone introduced himself. Quite loudly at that. The boxer found himself digging deeper into the recesses of the seat just to put the tiniest of distances between him and his face.

Rule number one in boxing: PUNCH THINGS THAT ARE RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR FACE. And KZ's fist was closing in on said place.

Even if in reality it was just sanding still. but it was there, so he dug deep and punched back, fist to fist.

And somewhere in Deus ex, there was a double rainbow streaking across the desolate sky.

It was just a knuckle touch. Leon was sure of it, but he watched silently as the imposing man got the fury in his eyes and dragged him away.

With clarice watching on behind her sippy box. it was fine, all the sugar in that pouch was sure to mess with her glucose levels. Still the boxer didn't put up a fight as his heels were dragged up to and through a portal. "What are you, my spirit animal?" he asked dryly before the bag was shoved roughly in his hands and made the younger life hunter cough at the contact.

"I'm going on a little quest? is this going to be like rocky?" he asked quickly as he tore through the bag "I always wanted to run up a series of steps and wave my hands in the air." he said without shame, maybe even "eye of the tiger" or that bad a** theme from megaman would play while he does it.

................. and then his green eyes beheld the monstrosity that lay within the duffel bag's confines.

"But, not in this." he said warily, picking up the piece of (what he would loosely call) clothing, if that was what it was. and eyebrow twitched in repressed anger at the happy little dolphin that was winking at him from the leotard.

"Tell me we are not going to meet Richard Simmons in this Killzone, please." he begged almost on his hands and knees at the audacity of it all.

He just had to believe that Robert's punishment was worse, he just had to believe it.

Squints can go two ways, and Leon wasn't afraid to dish it out.

" You like watching guys change their clothes?"

He almost pitied the fool. "T- turn around so i can change then!"

he barked out hastily due to nid and his prodding to put it on and "boil up" but looking at that dolphin...

8| "Can I at least wear my coat with it?" he began to whine. Bargaining was the next sign of grief he was falling into.

((Sorry, its been an interesting weekend for me.))



Well at least the moment of privacy, however brief it was, gave Leon the chance to change in shame imean- peace.

he didn't know much about leotards, if they came in sizes, and in that case, how Killzone managed to assess the one he'd need.

But it fit like a damn glove, just far, far too well. There was never a better time that he wished he could punch himself. with a forlorn sigh, the boxer put his coat away and turned his attention to Killzone and his promising words of a new coat and status. ANd tried his best to stand tall and proud after leaving the relative safety of the bathroom and the stall in which to curl up into a fetal position and die in.

Green eyes tried not to think about his... rockin..... outfit, and turned with hope to the punching machine, yes a way to test his masculinity and fell- wait why was he walking away form it.

HEY

HEEEEEEYYY

The life hunter just stared almost longingly at the strength tester as he put a brisk jog in his step to see where killzone waited.

In front of a rhythm dance game. A test of footwork. His footwork. Leon just stood there, blinking owlishly as he tried to get it all sorted in his head. "I train for years as a boxer, and you question my footwork."

His contention as a belt contender, his pride of being a fighter, was not only being besmirched, but tested in a game. A GAME THAT WASN'T EVEN PUNCH OUT FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE. Slap in the face much, very much so. more like one right on his leotard covered a**. With a hefty sigh and seconds of hesitation, the lumbering giant got himself on display around the bright lights and flashing colors, the metal platform adorned with stickers of cute, weird looking characters and lettering that he couldn't decipher.

"Are you done there Newb?" Leon's ears twitched at the sudden nasally sound thatrang out in the air, mostly next to him before turning around to-

Someone that was three heads shorter than himself, and just about as thin and lanky. "What?" he replied back, dumbfounded by the geeks arrogance.

Course it was hard to NOT take it personal when Urkel says "I'll shuffle all over you while singing 'did I do that.'" Very hard indeed.