The New Ron - Chapter 33 (Patreon)

It always struck me as a little odd exactly how capable a pair of teens were.

In terms of pure skill, you could somewhat gloss over that. I mean, prodigies did exist and there was sufficient evidence to suggest that not only Kim, but Ron as well, was one. And that's putting aside Wade, who definitely fit the bill. Granted, many of the things we did on an average day pushed the limits of even that allowance. Still, though, we were only remarkable for the sheer breadth and scope of our accomplishments. There were plenty of kids our age who hang-glided or parachuted or committed large-scale theft... regrettably, there were also plenty of kids our age who knew how to handle weapons in a near-lethal environment.

It was much harder to find a teenager who did all of those, plus more, with high-end competence.

But that wasn't what struck me as odd. No, that was a convention of so many narratives that one just had to accept it eventually or start screaming at clouds for the futility of it.

No, as I backflipped over a piece of four-foot high garden lattice and landed on the ball of my foot on a flat wooden stake before flashing out a trio of low, medium, and high kicks at targets hanging from a nearby branch...

It was the sheer level of physicality this body was capable of that boggled my mind.

The body I'd inherited from the previous owner had been pretty damn toned. Oh, Ron had hidden it well, no doubt. His characteristic slouch, the baggy clothes, and a diet consisting primarily of processed cheese had made him look like your average high school student.

Now, don't get me wrong. Ron wasn't in anything close to Olympian shape, but his body was closer to the fitness level of your average professional soldier than an American teenager.

Then I'd gotten ahold of it for a few months, and... well, I won't say I have the best eating habits or the best workout discipline, but they're better than the OG Ron Stoppable's.

With the last of my kicks thrown, I flipped up to another tree branch above me to catch myself before the hanging targets swung back to strike the position I'd been in. Now with one arm gripping the branch, I shifted to the classic 'monkey pose' with my remaining arm curled to scratch myself and my legs splayed loosely as they hung down.

“So, how'd I do?” I asked, looking at Rufus.

The naked mole rat hummed, scratching his chin with his oddly opposable digits before reaching down onto the small stand he'd been observing from and flipping up a card with a numeral nine about the size of his own body.

I clicked my tongue and sighed, “Ah well, I was hoping for a ten, but that's pretty good. Where'd I lose the point?”

Rufus squeaked and crossed his arms, letting the paper drop. “Monkeys!”

I took a deep breath, nodding. “They are the one true incarnation of evil and a blight on the planet Earth. I suppose I can't get perfect while imitating them.”

A pair of giggles chimed at my declaration, causing both Rufus and myself to look over to where both of my girlfriends stood, having very obviously been silently observing previous to their light laughter. Kim grinned at me, a glint in her eye. “I don't know, Ron, I'd score you a ten.”

“Psst!” I rolled my eyes, trying not to blush as I shifted my body around, looping my legs over the branch and hanging my torso down from it. “You girls are early.”

Tara shook her head in mock-disappointment as she approached and dropped a gym bag. “Blame Kim. She just had to get out of the house.”

Kim scoffed and followed our mutual lover. “You totes would too, Tara. Ugh, Jim and Tim do a dumbass stunt, break their bones, and now think they have the perfect excuse to order me around.”

I breathed out smoothly, a huff of laughter catching my exhalation even as I worked my torso up and down. “Hah! Yeah, I bet! Can't say they didn't earn it!”

“Right!” Kim cried, dropping her own bag and throwing her hands wide before combing her fingers through her hair and sounding off an aggravated cry. “Ahh! I wish we'd get a mission call! I'm going stir-crazy trying to find reasons to stay out of my own house!”

Tara frowned, watching me slowly pull myself up and drop back down, eyes locked on my exposed abs. “I... don't think that makes sense, Kim.”

“It doesn't, but I stand by it,,” Kim sighed, turning back to look at me with new eyes as she joined Tara in watching me. “Ron... when did you get jacked?”

“No idea what you mean, KP,” I replied, flipping myself down and landing on another set of wooden stakes before flipping off them and landing in front of Kim and Tara. “So... I was planning a quick snack before you girls stopped by. Do I still have the time for that?”

“Hmm...” Tara hummed thoughtfully, her eyes never leaving my abs. “I could eat, yeah.”

“Hey, Hey!” I called, snapping my fingers at the blonde girl and drawing her gaze to my own, then pointing right below my temples. “My eyes are up here.”

Kim snort-laughed and bent over, nearly collapsing in a fit of giggles as Tara blushed so deeply her face turned the color of Kim's hair.

Tara covered her face in shame. “Kill me now.”

I chuckled and threw an arm around her, kissing her cheek. “Only little deaths, Babe, only little deaths.”

Tara blinked from behind her cracked fingers, giving me an odd look. “Huh?”

“La petite mort,” Kim filled in, still giggling as she righted herself. “It's French for, 'little death' and is typically used as a euphemism for an orgasm.”

“Oooooh,” Tara replied, drawing out the sound in realization, then nodding. “Little deaths I'm fine with.”

I gave Kim a wink, which she returned, then paused. “Actually, I know we said we were going to train Tara today and you want your snack, Ron, but...”

“Buuuut~” I echoed, raising an eyebrow as I slipped a hand down over Tara's exercise clothes.

“I think it would be more instructive if we gave Tara something to aim for,” Kim stated, taking a step forward that reminded me more of the careful advance of a large cat than a teenage girl's everyday walk. “How about you and I have a spar? I don't think we've ever faced off, have we?”

I considered the offer.

The smart thing to do would be to tactfully disengage and shift KP onto a different, less competitive train of thought. Kim, as much as I loved her, could take competitions a little too far. Pitting yourself directly against her was a sure-fire way to invoke some hurt feelings.

On the other hand...

There was only so long I could keep babying Kim. This was a good, fairly low-stakes opportunity to test the waters and see what would happen if, and that was a big 'if,' I won against her in a direct head-to-head competition.

“What do you say? Your monkey kung-fu against my combination style?” Kim offered teasingly, temptingly as she bounced on the balls of her feet while I hesitated.

“One match, best of three falls,” I replied, enjoying the way her face lit up. “No groin shots, I'll stay away from breast-shots, and we both avoid the face, okay?”

“Yes!” Kim grinned, dancing off to start her warm-ups.

I rolled my eyes and Tara smiled as I went through a few basic stretches. My fellow blonde asked, “So... what style does Kim actually use? She said combination? And you use... monkey style?”

“Kim uses bits and pieces of a bunch of different styles she's picked up over the years, basically whatever's most useful to her.” I snorted as I bent over backwards. “Monkey Kung Fu, but yeah. I fought this weird villain named Monkey Fist. He was originally a British aristocrat, but had his hands and feet surgically altered so that he could do monkey-based martial arts better.”

Tara opened her mouth and seemed like she was going to say something, but then stopped and shook her head. “Okay, moving on... how long have you been studying it? I thought you hated monkeys?”

“I have monkey-related PTSD,” I replied bluntly, making her eyes widen as I touched my toes while bending at the waist. “That's a different story, but I basically never studied Monkey Kung Fu. I got trapped in the villain's mansion and had to use a bunch of ancient artifacts to empower myself in the same ritual he used, so now we're dueling rivals fighting to become the next Mystical Monkey Master.”

I paused as she stared at me in blank disbelief.

“Well, okay. That's a lie,” I said and she relaxed. “He's mostly the one who wants the Triple-M position. But since he has to strike me down or whatever to get it, I guess I have to fight him for it even if I don't want it.”

Tara's face lost her brief moment of hope and she crossed her arms as she glared at me, her twitching lips belying the amusement she felt. “You did that on purpose.”

I stopped and stretched my hands over my head, then grinned. “Maybe a little, but it's all true.”

“What's all true?” Kim asked, walking up as she pulled one arm across her chest, the other perpendicular to it as she stretched it out.

“Just the Monkey Fist stuff,” I replied with a shrug.

“Ah,” Kim gave Tara a knowing look. “You get used to it.”

Tara's face shifted through a complex set of emotions. “So, um... if I join you guys on missions, do I get, like, one of those? A rival or an arch-enemy or whatever?”

Kim and I exchanged a glance, blinking.

I shrugged, “Non-zero chance?”

Kim nodded, looking to our mutual girlfriend. “Probably? It took me and Ron a few years to pick ours up, though, so don't expect it to be immediate or anything.”

Tara sighed in visible relief. “Oh, good... I don't think I'm ready for a-a... nemesis or whatever.”

“Whenever you start coming along on missions, just watch out for someone with a skill set kind of like yours with a lot of overlapping personal likes and dislikes, just... you know, evil. Or at least villainous,” I explained.

Kim looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “You and Monkey Fist like the same stuff?”

“Eh,” I waggled a hand in the air. “Kind of? We both like having lots of money, from what I've heard, but we've got that thing going where he's old money and I'm earning it all myself by building connections and helping people. Whereas his money comes from colonial exploitation. We also like the whole Asian martial arts aesthetic, even if he's into monkeys and I'm not. Which, you know... the whole monkey-related PTSD thing and his obsession with them, that's another point.”

“...huh,” Kim stated, slightly stunned as she considered my points, tying her hair back with a black scrunchie. “I never thought about it, but... yeah, I can see it. I don't think that works with me and Drakken, though?”

“Drakken's more of a legacy thing, since your father turned him evil.” I waved her off. “Shego, now she's your nemesis. Martial arts oriented, but she's got powers and you don't. You're both young, attractive ladies, but she's got this whole dark, mature appeal. You both like fashion and take your reputations super seriously on top of being really competitive in your specific zones.”

Kim frowned thoughtfully. “I both hate how you've got a point and despise how much thought you've put into this.” Green eyes glared at me. “Dark, mature appeal?”

I scoffed. “And you've got the younger, more vibrant and innocent appeal.”

Kim calmed, smirking now. “Good save, mister.”

“How about me?” Tara asked, leaning in.

“Good-hearted girl-next-door vibe with that very naughty secret appeal,” I nodded firmly.

Tara giggled, looking at Kim. “I think he's got us, babe.”

Kim flushed slightly at the term of affection. “What about him?”

Both girls turned on me, visibly thinking it over. For effect, I struck a pose, which had both of them quietly laughing. Kim hummed. “Sweet goof with a heart of gold?”

Tara hesitated, then nodded. “I think he could pull off the bad boy look if he gave it a good try, but yeah, that fits.”

Kim gave her a skeptical look, but shrugged and shook her head. “Anyway, with that out of the way, let's spar!”

I looked over to Rufus, who'd taken up a position in the dollhouse lawn chair I'd picked up for him and was sipping on a glass of lemonade. “Rufus, buddy, if Kim accidentally folds me like that chair you're sitting on, tell Mom and Dad I love them.”

Rufus held up a small hand with an inexplicable thumb and squeaked an affirmative without looking my way.

I looked back across the lawn to Kim, who was wearing a pair of baggy white 'gi' pants with just a red sports bra for her top.

“Loser has to eat lunch naked!” Tara cried out, grinning widely.

Kim and I turned to look at her, the red head sighing with a slight blush. I shrugged. “My parents are out for another six hours minimum. They had to drive to the next town over.”

Kim rolled her eyes. “Fine. Now, let's do this!”

Without further ado, Kim lunged at me, throwing a wide sweeping kick that forced me into the air. Taking advantage of my momentary immobility, the redhead threw two lightning-fast punches in rapid succession. Still, caught on the defense as I was, I blocked both and used the force of her blows to roll backwards before popping back up with a little distance.

Kim was already closing the distance, so instead of retreating further I advanced into knife-fighting range and started using my elbows in one of the major focuses of my art. Her green eyes widened as she dropped her left foot back into a longer, more stable stance, holding up her forearms to block the blows as I rotated my body to add extra force.

Monkey Kung Fu was, no pun intended, a strange beast.

The central premise of the style was adaptability, not any specific discipline. What this meant in practice was that there were four main sub-schools within the overall style that I'd been able to identify from my own exploration of the downloaded knowledge and internet searches.

The first, and most important, was mobility. Acrobatics played a huge role in the art overall and being able to use your surroundings to perform parkour-like maneuvers to both avoid enemy attacks and add extra force to your own through gravity and leverage was extremely important.

The second was close-in fighting. Monkey Kung Fu did not emphasize weapon use. In fact, it emphasized the opposite. So the response to someone pulling a weapon was to get so close they couldn't actually use the damn thing. This had evolved over time into a general preference for being very close to your opponent and opening up their defenses with 'eight limbs' techniques that involved knees and elbows just as much as fists and feet.

The third was, very obviously, Monkey Fist's favorite part of the art. It was a through-line of teaching that showed how to put extra force into any blow by using your entire body to drive it home. This came at the cost of leaving you more open to counter-attacks, but resulted in devastating power in the heavier strikes you could deploy. It could also be adapted into flinging various material at your opponent in order to strike from range.

The fourth?

I stepped even closer to KP, to the point where we were breathing each other's air and hooked an ankle around her forward leg. The act put both of us off balance and Kim's wide gaze recognized the move for what it was as we both went down in a tangle of limbs.

Grappling.

Kim had me on experience, talent, drive, speed, and endurance. The longer these matches went on, the better a chance she had. However, I had her on reach, raw strength, and body weight. Taking her to the grassy ground neutralized several of her advantages and allowed me to press my own. In a flurry of movements, her arms were pinned behind her and she was breathing hard underneath me.

“Give?” I asked.

Kim gave one last flex, straining to throw me off, but I'd gone dead-weight to give her a complete lack of leverage. Her combo-style loved to use a heavier opponent's weight against them, but you needed some kind of fulcrum to do that. Being prone on the ground with a few sacks of potatoes pressing down on your body gave you nothing.

Kim sighed. “Give.”

Not able to resist, I gave her a pat on the butt and rolled off, chuckling at the adorable squeak I got for the stunt. Helping Kim up, the girl was breathing hard and glaring at me. “Dirty trick.”

I shrugged, not denying it. “Monkeys are dirty animals.”

Fuckin fite me, bruh.

Kim's faux-irritation broke and she grinned. “Guess I have to work on my grappling. Ready for round two? I won't make the same mistake twice.”

“Believe me, I know,” I shrugged and turned to Tara. “I'm about to get my ass kicked, T. Take notes, because it's your turn after lunch.”

Tara, who was watching intently, gulped while KP and I took our starting positions again.

“Go!” Kim shouted, launching forward again.

Long story short? I was right. I got my ass handed to me.

But, on the bright side, I got to sit naked next to two beautiful women while eating homemade nachos and even got a blowjob from Tara in the process.

Win some, lose some.

Oh, and I was right. Tara did get her butt kicked too, but it was a constructive and educational exercise for her.  Mostly.

~~~

As promised, a new chapter of The New Ron. I think this turned out really well and is a good lead-in for Tara's first team mission coming up soon.

In other news, I'm still working on Nexus Event, but it'll probably go up next week.

Right now, I'm focusing on the next Winning Peace, which I believe will be late Friday or early Saturday. I hope, anyway. It did win the poll, so I'll be working on it this month as a priority.

Not much else to say, but I hope everyone enjoys this chapter and has a wonderful week's end. Rock on and stay awesome!