cutting_edgex23 | Training Day, or: no one here is a crooked cop

Well it certainly wasn't Mike's idea to activate all of the car alarms for use as proximity mines.

He'd been against it.
Very vocally against it.

But when X said run, you ran. Mostly because if you didn't run, your blood would...all over the floor. So Mike ran, diving and dodging and rolling over every car that happened to be in his way.

X gives him a thirty second head start.

Then she follows, quick and light on her feet.

It is, in its way, easier than leaping across rooftops.

Even if it is also very loud.

"thisisstupidthisisstupidthisisstupidgonnagettinnitusdeafbythirty," he mutters to himself as he runs.

He's faster now than when they started. She maybe the harshest taskmistress he's ever seen, but even Mike can't say she doesn't get results.

He just kind of wished the results didn't come with so many bruises.

"Better than dead," X says, from --

Well. From not as far behind him as she probably should be.

She is not even out of breath.

This is, in its own way, easier than dodging Sentinels. For one, she does not have to make sure that no one else gets killed.

EXCEPT FOR MIKE! She should really be looking out for the lack of Mike death.

"I don't know about that," he says diving through the space between floors and making a break for it on the level that apparently houses every incarnation of Herbie the Love Bug. "I know some very happy dead people."

Mike is supposed to be looking out for the lack of his own death.

Or maiming.

That is what all this training is for.

Right?

"Death is quiet," X says. "I do not know if you will like it."

And then she vanishes under a neon pink Herbie with googly eyes.

She does not re-emerge.

"I don't know about that, Raph seemed more than able to get a few noises out of her that'd make even me blush."

There's something wrong. He doesn't have to be looking behind him to know something is wrong. He can feel it. She's not following. She's disappeared.

Mike stops running, takes a second to catch his breath, before letting his eyes fall shut and feeling around the room with his senses.

One of the cars has an engine running.

It is not the Mystery Machine.

Something heavy -- and wearing combat boots -- lands on the hood of the antigrav car two vehicles away.

"Maybe a blindfold will be useful. For you."

If he's going to keep his eyes closed anyway . . .

The sound of her boots reverberates around the garage, which makes it difficult for Mike to pin point her location.

Thankfully for Mike though, X speaks.

Holy cats she's right in front of him.

He brings his hands up to a defensive position, but at the very last second reaches out and pokes her nose.

"Beep."

He cracks one eye, to see her reaction.

X just looks at him.

Unblinking.

"That was not very convincing," is her offered commentary.

"Your sound effect."

Then she's darting past him and across the hoods of several more cars.

"Do better."

He'll have to catch her, first.

"What?"

He gives chase.

"That was so convincing. What're you talking about! HEY! Get back here!"

The blare of the car alarms merely reveals the deficiencies of his beeping noises.

"That is not an effective tactic. I am not the one who is training."

Then she disappears beneath a car.

Again.

"Well maybe you should be! Because I think your ears are broken," he says before he jumps onto the hood of a nearby Hruck Bugbear.

Then he tries to center himself again, to prepare for an attack from anywhere, but is far too distracted by the insult to his beep for it to work.

X takes this opportunity to pop up behind him and tweak his ear.

Hard.

Then she darts away again.

It's like she heard him, or something.

Weird.

It's not until she darts away, until she's well out of arm's reach, that Mike reacts to what just happened.

"ow."
For the last handful of years training was not this difficult. It was fun, and pretty much nothing but fun. Okay, sure. Boring at times, but still those boring times were good times because his family was together.

Most importantly though, Mike never really had to try all that hard. This stuff just came natural. And he just sort of...skated by on pure raw talent.

Now though? Now this shit is hard, man. So very hard.
It's frustrating to him just how difficult this is, and there's no amount of hamming it up that's going to get him out of this.

"At what point did I lose control of this situation?" he grumbles to himself as he takes off in the direction X just ran, the whole while willing his ear to just stop hurting.

"ears are stupid."

"Talk less," X says, snagging Mike's ankle as he moves past.

How she fit under the low-riding Supra is a question for the ages.

"Then your ears will be useful."

Her hearing has always been very good. Even with the car alarms.

It's all a question of deciding when pain is relevant, and when it isn't.

Mike yelps like a small child.

How the heck Did she fit under there?! Can she teleport? Is she like Kitty Pryde? What in the Sam Hall is going on here?

"Right now I'm more concerned about my ankle," he says as he regains control of his momentum and attempts to use it to pull her out from under the car.

Kicking her in the face seemed...impolite.

"I did not break it," X says, letting go and rolling out from under the other side of the car.

Immediately upon doing that she stands, vaulting up to slide over the hood.

How fast are Mike's reflexes these days?

They were fairly good for Mike before X got involved with his training. And fairly good for Mike is pretty damn good for the average human.

Sadly in this equation the average human is a toddler when compared to X.
SO...long story already too long? Passable by X-standards.

Mike is down, and he stays there because getting up would take more time than rolling out of her way...should he need to do that.

X breezes past Mike, clears a little space, then spins around.

She does not put her hands on her hips, but she does study him.

Intently.

"Quick recover is important."

It will take a moment for X to walk back to the other side of the car.

"Again."

Come on, Mike. She believes in you.

She is prepared to believe in you until Milliways itself explodes.

Again.

Oh so Tuesday.
Well that's reassuring.

Mike's physical reflexes are much better than his mental ones right now, which might not exactly be saying all that much.

Again.

When she walks back to the car he starts to understand...well, at very least understand what he thinks she wants from him.

He stays down, but this time when she goes to move past him, he's going to strike.

Or at very least try to.

It's like they're learning each other as teacher and student.

It is enough to bring tears to someone's eyes.

(Someone who is manifestly not here, but nevertheless.)

He'll score a hit, but not a solid one, even though X was not putting her all into dodging.

That will come later.

"Better," X says, when she turns around again. "But you are still too slow."

When he manages a solid hit at three-quarters speed, then they will have truly accomplished something.

(And, you know. Then they can stop. Maybe. For the day.)

This time Mike stays upright, and wow does that make all the difference in the world.

Of course, it's far easier to land a hit on a target you know is coming at you, and that moves predictably. That's why video games are so easy.

Well, easy for Mike at any rate.

"Faster."

This is X's only response.

Maybe it is time to see how good Mike is when all conditions are ideal.

Then she'll be certain that she is pushing him hard enough.

His face scrunches up in frustration. This is why he doesn't like training. The boring, repetitive, perfection of it all.

But for some stubborn reason, he takes a defensive stance and when she runs at him again he throws everything he has into tagging her just to release some steam.

X oofs at the impact, turning with the strike and facing off with Michaelangelo.

Is she smiling?

Surely not.

"Good. It will be better when you are not upset."

Beat.

"But it is not a terrible start."

Then, of course, she comes at him again.

Just to check.

Not a terrible start?
Not a terrible start?!?

Mike lashes out at X.

What was she just saying about fighting while upset, Mike?

X ducks away, twisting and aiming her heel at Mike's upper thigh.

That he should do it and often?

....what?

Mike's watching her center of mass, and when she turns away he pivots, so while her heel connects, it doesn't do so solidly.

Hopefully his pivot did not deprive him of a good field of view.

Otherwise the elbow rocketing toward his jaw is going to be a really unfortunate surprise.

This would be the point, were Mike in his original form, where he would duck his head into his shell.

It would be dramatic, and possibly funny.
Alas, for the loss of the shell.

What Mike does do however, is lean back and turn his chin so as to hopefully take as little of the punch as possible.

While he does that, X follows up the elbow with a spinning backfist.

Just to take advantage of her momentum.

It seems sensible.

There's only so much leaning a guy can do before he falls over. The good news there is that Mike gets a hand down on the ground, and is able to shift some of his weight without falling over entirely.

The badnews is that this leaves him only one hand with which to attempt a block.

X takes advantage of that extended proto-blocking hand.

How?

By gripping his wrist and pulling him back to his feet.

Then she takes a step back.

"We will be sparring regularly. Now."

Beat.

"I think you are ready."

This does not mean that she's calling it quits to his other exercises.

Maybe someday.

Edited 2012-08-11 21:18 (UTC)

Mike stands there for a good long while, just staring.
Staring and gaping.

Every now and again his mouth moves like a fish searching the air for some water to breathe.

Eventually...

"For serious?"

In answer, X just comes at him again.

Maybe next time Mike will not be so flippant in his response.

A mutant can hope.

Edited 2012-08-14 04:32 (UTC)

Training Day, or: no one here is a crooked cop

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