Hans steps into view, stripped to the waist, while his lower half is covered by a pair of ¾ length wrestling shorts; currently mid way through sliding his hands into his fingerless wrestling mitts.
Eyes focused on ensuring they're snugly fitted, he takes a few steps across the ring towards where his brother is ensuring his shin high wrestling boots are tied and knotted properly, glancing down at him briefly.
(Hans): Almost ready?
Heinrich loops the top laces into the knot, and pulls back on them sharply, before flexing his toes, searching for any looseness. He takes an experimental step, before looking at his brother.
(Heinrich): Yeah, I've just got to grab something for my hands and then we're good to go.
He crosses over to one corner of the ring, and begins rooting in a small gym bag set against the turnbuckle, pulling out a towel and setting it on the top rope as he does so, before finding a similar pair of wrestling mitts to his brothers.
Hans meanwhile takes the chance to throw a few shadow punches, loosening himself up, before leaning back against the ropes, arms stretched out to either side.
(Hans): So… I stand idly by while Butch goes about his business?
Heinrich doesn’t even look up as he slides the first of his gloves on.
(Heinrich): That’s what it looks like from where I’m standing.
He pulls the velcro strap at his wrist tight, flexing his fingers to ensure a correct level of give.
(Heinrich): Look… I know you took a long time to bury your daemons from the time you spent in the Horde, and to see Butch of all people standing where you stood… it’s… hard to see happening before your eyes… I mean, Butch Parker. Of all the people… why Butch?
His head snaps straight up, eyes fixed on his elder brother.
(Heinrich): But wake up man. He broke Vanessa’s leg. He refuses to give any form of explanation as to why he follows Senester’s orders…. He…
Heinrich throws up his hands in disgust, as Hans merely stands silent, head drooping forward somewhat.
(Heinrich): I know he had goodwill and all from what he’s done for you, but the man has used it all up long before now.
He pauses for a few seconds, allowing his words to sink in.
(Heinrich): That you hold off judging him is… commendable, really, it is. But I think you’ve done it long enough now. He’s f*cked with you, and the people you love repeatedly, and the time for biting your tongue is over. Stop reining it in…
Heinrich turns back to the ringpost nearest him, picking up the final glove, and slides it over his other hand, and begins fastening it.
Hans meanwhile gets off the ropes, one hand scratching idly at the stubble on his chin, as he muses over what his younger brother’s said.
(Hans): That everything?
With his back to the camera, Heinrich’s head tilts back somewhat, a bark of laughter coming from him as he finishes with his fighting mitts.
(Heinrich): I’m not even halfway done brother.
(Hans): Scheiße…
Heinrich’s laughter fills the air once more as the scene fades to black.
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