Marcella Walker had been rapidly finding on how Animalia's "Four Punishments" were made to work. From the outside, they looked like some random hazing ritual that was designed to embarrass the person taking that punishment, and she figured that might have been part of what drove those that ran the political circus before her trial. They figured she'd get something they'd consider a slap on the wrist and nothing more. They didn't understand that while the punishments operated like some kind of hazing ritual, there was a fair amount of homework put into it. They'd made sure that the embarrassing things that were flung at Marcella served as reminders of what she'd done wrong and how she responded poorly.
The "clean up your act" in the first punishment put out the various bullying lines that had been thrown at Marcella over the years. Lines that she remembered her parents saying that she should just ignore, and lines that Marcella focused on, particularly when a former friend was among those saying them. If she'd been the bigger or better person, she would have moved on and let Christina Moore develop into the shallow figure that would find that the world generally didn't reward that sort of behavior. As karma always had a habit of catching up with bullies. Instead, Marcella stewed in it and was far from the bigger person. The "can't touch this" punishment drew in reminders to her crush on Steve Herrons and how she let that attraction ignite her plan to try and get someone, who probably didn't want her. Even if she had succeeded in getting away with it, Marcella had gotten the sensation that Steve wouldn't just abandon Christina, or at least wouldn't abandon Christina for her. The "fashion show" punishment was also, not about fashion. It provided another reminder on how Marcella's own actions had triggered attention she didn't want. All these reminders sat heavier on her mind than any sort of prison sentence would.
So, as Mother's Day approached and Animalia wanted to get through last punishment before WSA's senior's graduated, Marcella found herself enrolled in some extracurricular sessions at the Claw Coliseum. The male Styracosaur Dinotopian wasn't as big as Sherry, but he was still imposing and his nose horn was bigger. The added horns on the back of his frill only added to perception of his toughness, and she could see on how the MMA, UFC, UFC-A, Mesozoic Fight Club (MFC) organizer would add to the expected final punishment. That it would be set up like a fight between her and Chrissy. A part of Marcella's mind welcomed that. It'd let her get even with Chrissy for all the bullying that her former friend had engaged in, but the other part of her mind, the part that had then the worst of the four punishments sensed a trap in that line of thinking.
"How do I know this isn't a trap?" Marcella asked him, "I mean... just about any bullied kid would love a chance to beat up the person that bullied them. And... and I'll admit that some of that played into my scheme to give Chrissy the drink laced with the double dose of the African Elephant strain of the Animalia Virus. But that's also the very thing that's gotten me in trouble in the first place."
Brett Horne actually nodded. He typically hadn't been involved in handling these sorts of things, but from what Alexandria Lynx had explained to him, the situation that followed Marcella's punishments and the issues that provoked the New Years' incident at Desert Flats was something that would give a lot of credence to the need for him. He could understand the emotion that made Marcella lash out, particularly when Chrissy was supposed to be a friend, or at least had been a friend when they were little. Though, at the same time, that didn't justify stealing the Animalia Virus and turning Chrissy into an Animalian. It was a bad response to bullies, for while it might solve one set of problems now, it wouldn't remove the general issue of dealing with bullying in the future. In some ways, it also reminded Brett of his own enthusiasm for combat sports, that had lead him into underground fighting rings and got him in trouble.
"That threat of a trap is always going to be there in life," Brett answered with a small smile on his beak, "and that will be a question you'll have to answer for yourself. And in some ways, it's also something that Ms. Moore will have to figure out for herself. From what I've been told... BOTH of you made mistakes. Now, Ms. Moore's may not have produced criminal charges as yours did, but that doesn't mean that she didn't make mistakes. And it would be where I could privately say that BOTH of you could stand some lessons in self discipline and how to handle yourselves, particularly now that you're both Animalians and in a different strength class from Humans."
Marcella cringed a bit at that last one. One of her shifts as a waitress at the Meat Market, which was to earn money to pay off the damages done to Rocky's club in Desert Flats, had one reminder of that. She'd been expecting that she'd have shifts with Chrissy, and a part of her was even hoping for it to apologize, given that Chrissy was still living in Desert Flats and still going to their old school. But for reasons that Marcella didn't know, their shifts weren't overlapping or weren't on the same day. On that evening, Marcella was taking an order from a couple of Animalians seated at a booth not too far away from the bar and the high level of traffic that came past it. She was so focused on taking the order, that she didn't notice a man who'd clearly had too much to drink stumble out of another booth and begin to try to head out. When Marcella moved to take the order to staff that would fill it, the drunk stumbled forward and ended up falling forward into her butt, making her stumble forward a little. It didn't hurt, but Marcella was still surprised and found herself flaying her trunk on reflex, which then caught another person coming him and knocking him up onto the bar itself.
"Yeah... but I'm also no fighter," Marcella said slowly, "my problem was about getting too emotional..."
"Not everyone is a fighter," Brett answered, "and I sorta get the sense that Ms. Moore really isn't a fighter, either. And that brings things back to your question on if this a trap or not."
Marcella nodded at that. Much of her sense of this related to the first punishment. The box that the maze had been built in was small enough that the maze couldn't be build in a way that she couldn't plow through the walls if she really wanted to. She'd even been told that she could just plow through the walls to find the exit from the maze, but that if that was her solution, she'd have to repeat the entire first punishment. Which would have meant getting that rough bath multiple times until she went through the maze properly. This supposed "fight" was likely a trap, as her actions had been criminal. So, even if she got even with Chrissy in this supposed fight that they were setting up, it'd only mean having to do it again until she lost.
"And that will require having the knowledge on how to fight and the self discipline to know when not to fight," Brett continued, "So... let's continue with the exercises."
Marcella looked to the massive punching bag that hung from a chain that went up to the ceiling. It was made out of some foam plastic and when she'd thrown some tentative punches at it earlier, it didn't hurt her hand and still offered enough resistance that it didn't swing wildly. She then sighed and approached the bag.
"You'd want a little bit of a broader stance," Brett corrected, "that narrow stance leaves you unbalanced and could be where you wouldn't be able to absorb a counter blow, particularly if delivered by someone in your weight class. Not to mention that you wouldn't be able to dodge an attack on you if it comes quickly."
"But wouldn't I be able to generate a stronger punch like this?" Marcella gestured to her stance, "being able to step into it?"
"In pure theory... sure," Brett nodded, "but it'd still be something that would work more as a finishing move... or something used against someone that you'd clearly outweigh and outmuscle. Try me, and you'll see..."
"Try you... but you're a Dinotopian!" Marcella said pointedly.
"True, but not all Dinotopians are the same size," Brett answered with a nod, "and not all of them are massive when compared to extant animals. In fact the modern African Elephant reaches weights comparable to Triceratops. Styracosaurus is SMALLER than Triceratops. In this by base statistics, you might actually hold a size advantage over me."
Marcella blinked and looked over Brett again. The male Styracosaurus Dinotopian stood about as tall as she did, maybe taller if one counted the horns on his frill. In terms of height and leverage, he might be right, but she also figured that he'd worked out a lot more than what Marcella ever had and more than Manfred did. He only raised up his right arm and with the back of his hand facing her, beckoned her to come at him. She inwardly shuddered and figured that this was going to be more of a demonstrative lesson, but she also figured it best to give it her all. As parts of her instincts inwardly told her to be wary of the long horn on the end of his nose, and actually equated it with the long tusks of a bull elephant.
She came forward, and figured her best shot was aim for that nose horn and turn Brett's head into a position where he wouldn't see her as well as he probably could know. He stood still for a few moments and that let Marcella continue her advance. Once she felt she was close enough, she made a longer step while raising up her right hand with the fist clenched and then flung it forward with the step. However, as Marcella took that step, Brett carefully stepped back and to a side. It was almost like he hopped back, and it let Marcella punch empty air. Now, Marcella had to get her feet back under her and as soon as she was on one foot to bring the rear foot forward, Brett came forward and delivered a soft push to her right shoulder and that sent her down to the mat. The fall wasn't hard and there was no pain, though there was a small bit of embarrassment.
"And that shows my point on balance with regard to your stance," Brett spoke, "your move had the potential for a lot of power, I can give you that. But you'd still be gambling on delivering a near knockout blow with one punch... and that may work in an undisciplined street fight. Often because the opponent may not have training to counter it, or will think they can "take it." Against a professional fighter, be it in boxing, various martial arts tournaments, or the UFC or UFC-A and it's Mesozoic Fight Club affiliate, that gamble is more likely to fail. Retaining a balanced stance will let you cope with blows thrown at you and sustain the blows delivered without putting yourself off balance."
Brett then offered her a hand as he stood over her. She took it and was soon on her feet again.
"And that point on balance will apply to all things," Brett spoke, "mind as well as body. If you aren't thinking clearly, you're bound to make mistakes. Like fall into the trap you're worried about. Or trying to get even with people who had clearly changed with time when there was no need to do so. In some ways, it's that point with the mind that may be a big part of why we're here."