LOG: [Kyle, Haller] Life decisions in the DR

[x-legion.livejournal.com]

Kyle and Haller have a workout in the DR. Further education is discussed as well as is able when one of the contributors can't stay in one personality.



"No, it's okay--" The oncoming drone's head crunched under the titanium baseball bat, handily removing the immediate threat. Jim rested the end of the bat in the dirt as the drone stumbled. He wiped an arm across his forehead before turning back to his current training partner. "What're you worried about, exactly? Grades?"

Wrestling a flying drone to the ground kept Kyle from explaining for a moment, as the drone was between his face and Jim. Once he had it on the ground and disabled, he pried the broken-off grasping arm off his ankle and looked over at Jim. "Sorta. I mean, I do okay here, but, college is for, like Forge, or Jennie. I'm no anything like, near as smart as them."

"To be honest, I think interest matters more than grades. I mean, I take my classes on a GED. I never finished high school. Or started. And despite the perks you'd think would come with the superpowered brain, even if I'd made it to class I wouldn't exactly be at the top." Jim kicked a detached leg out of his area to give him better room to maneuver. He knew Scott would probably smack them both for this much chatter on an actual mission, but the basic "drones are attacking, protect your partner" scenario wasn't exactly the height of strategy. He wiped his sweaty palm on his pants and hefted the bat again, vaguely wondering who he could blame for the choice of props.

"Yeah, but..." Kyle started to protest, hipchecked a drone into another drone, and flattened himself on the ground to avoid another. "Dude, I mean, dude. I'm just a guy. Just guys don't do college. My dad didn't do college, my mom did one of those two-year dealies, and how the hell am I gonna pay for it anyway?"

Jim swept the bat in an exploratory underhand motion, keeping an eye on the nearest drone. "Okay, one thing at a time. Do you want to go? Forget that you're just a guy and the money issue. Is it something you're genuinely interested in?"

Hitting the illusionary dirt didn't really feel any more comfortable then hitting regular old real dirt, but at least it didn't get in his teeth and hair and eyes. Which was probably a scenario for later. Fighting drones while blinded by sand. "Dunno. I mean, it's too big to think about, kinda, and then, I mean, I'd be like, the only person in my family, oh, ever, who did, so that'd be cool." Kyle answered.

"Okay, we'll just round to 'yes'." Jim smiled behind the raised bat, relieved. It was a noble pursuit to join the X-Men, but the telepath had to admit he'd much rather see the kids picking up practical skills. Like the sort that encouraged skills more conventionally marketable than taking down their genetic peers.

"There are ways around the money thing. If you're the first person in your family to go to college -- I think there's something specifically for that." Jim grunted as he parried the attack of a flying drone that had gotten past Kyle while the boy'd taken a spill and sent it spinning across the room. "Minority scholarships, too, if you want to go there. Your parents' religious affiliation, being a mutant, anything. I can dig up some literature later. Finding the money isn't as hard as you'd think."

"Okay, now you're just messing with me." Kyle dove for a drone that had gone around and behind Jim, and tackled it with his shoulder. "If they give scholarships for religion and being a mutant and all that, why didn't anyone ever tell me before?" Even though he already knew the answer - being arrested for car theft at fourteen doesn't encourage anyone to address your educational options with you.

"Did you ask?" Jim countered, turning to face the impact of flesh on metal. He smiled. "Although we'd have started talking about it this year anyway. Not that we're trying to force higher education. Just . . . strongly encourage. Especially if someone's interested. Want me to start doing some digging?"

The drone was defeated by Kyle smashing it into the ground several times until it stopped making noises. "Nobody even said I could ask. " Another smash for good measure. "How was I supposed to know I could ask about options when I didn't even know there were options!"

"Okay, I'll admit it is kind of a catch-22. But that's why we--"

Along the walls, a pair of hatches opened, ejecting out a large group of the flying drones, smaller in size, and beeping like a herd of hyperactive smoke alarms. The high pitched noise echoed off the walls as the drones swarmed closer, circling fast around the pair.

Kyle clapped his hands over his ears, yelping. "Holy shit! Make that stop. Oh my God. OW. Ow. Make that -stop-. " He pleaded, releasing one ear to swat at the drones weakly.

Grey flicked out from behind the miscolored eyes, quick and brutal as a snake. The end of the bat swung into the flat of his palm, gripped on either end like a horizontal bar, and thrust outwards towards the drones. The shrieks became something like a scream as the drones above Kyle flew back, blunted like a truck had driven into them headlong.

Jack lowered the bat. His grey eyes fixed on one drone, fallen but still shrilling. Releasing the end of his weapon, Jack reached out and made a clutching motion. The implosion of the drone's head ended the noise in an abrupt squeal.

"Halfway there," the telekinetic said, eyes already narrowing on the remaining swarmers. The bat began to swing purposefully from one hand.

Had Kyle not been simultaneously trying to concentrate on the drones and his throbbing ear drums, he'd have questioned this new Haller. He'd read that David, Mr. Haller, their guidance counselor had multiple personalities. But it hadn't really occurred to him to pry and ask nosy questions. After all, this was the guy who'd helped stop a tsunami. You don't ask nosy questions of a guy who can stop tsunamis. Even if he kind of had emo hair.

Besides, one of them was supposed to be a chick and that was just awkward to ask about.

Whoever this was, it wasn't the affable guy Kyle had just been talking college with. He sounded different - like if someone had taken essence-of-cranky and made Mr. Haller drink it. Black.

"Uh." Kyle uttered, and paused. Was he supposed to help now, or just stand there and try not to look useless? Even deciding that was too hard in the light of Shrill Drone Noises, and Mr. Haller Blowing Stuff Up.

Jack used the bat to punt the nearest flyer across the Danger Room the traditional way: with the satisfying clang of metal on metal. "Howdy," the alter said, eyes still fixed on the circling advance guard. "All right, kid, the scenario's just changed from 'protect the bystander' to 'teammate on the field.' I'm not on level with Cable and Phoenix. Got force and distance, but limited focus. Pop quiz: with what you can do and what I can do, what's your instinct on strategy?"

Kyle muttered under his breath. He was supposed to think with all this noise? This guy had to be shitting him. Only, this guy didn't sound like the kinda guy to pull that kind of stunt. "So you can hit things and hit them from far away, but can't hit like, that drone there third on the left, like, specifically?" He ducked a pass from a scouting drone, taking his hands off his ears to cover his head. "Man, I hate when they buzz me. Stupid drones."

"Could, but wastes time. Bigger issue is the lack of multitasking. Gotta pick my targets. --Time out."

Jack clenched his fist, and the advancing drones suddenly bounced as if they'd walked into an invisible wall. The alter planted the end of the bat in the dirt and turned to Kyle, heedless as the drones began to collect behind the telekinetic shield in a determined grind. "We all got strengths. You know yours. Take orders when you can get them. When you can't, it's up to you to spot a hole to fill."

It wasn't a fair question to put to Kyle when it was clear the kid's brain was close to leaking out of his ears, but there was a limit to how easy Jack could make things. Following orders wasn't a problem for Kyle. If today was any indication, however, initiative with senior teammates was. Decisions had to be quick, organic -- and Kyle shouldn't have to feel like he had to drop to the background whenever an adult stepped in, regardless of their respective power levels. Jack nodded his head to the building masses behind the shield. "So, let's hear it. You're not a dumb kid. Seeing what I can do, what would be your move?"

"Squish 'em." Kyle said abruptly. "You've got that wall-thinger. Squish 'em up against the wall and I can pick off the ones that get around it." At least, he -thought- that might work. There was a big invisible wall. It would've helped if he had any real idea what the hell this... person... could really do besides be all telekinetic.

He really needed to start reading up on people that weren't the other trainees.

"We can do that." Jack's attention slid to where the droids had gathered the thickest, his head turning as if on ballbearings.

The enclosing shield snapped away, focused entirely into a single wall of force. His outstretched hand twisted. The droids unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of Jack's attention flew away to clatter against the far wall -- and were then pulverized.

Kyle had time for one single loud "BOOYAH!" before he heard the clickity-clack of two ground-drones approaching behind him. Two was a problem. He could deal with one, even if it meant he had to tackle it and beat it's 'head' on the ground until it shut down. But that took forever, and it would mean that the other one would get to Mr. Haller. Which was exactly what he was supposed to be preventing.

But standing there and staring at it wouldn't do any good either, so he ran for the closer one, diving to the ground to grab it at the legs. Garrison had shown him a leg take-down a few weeks ago that he had yet to really try.

Jack sensed the motion of the droid behind him, and equally so the leg-sweep Kyle used to defeat it. He nodded to himself. Much better.

Deliberately, the telekinetic kept his attention focused in front of him and let Kyle handle his back. A few individual blows, punctuated by swings of the bat, picked off the stragglers and remaining airborn droids in front of him. He overestimate the force and sent one into the side of a nearby civilian, which would be points off. He wasn't quite watching, but from the feel of it the kid was taking it seriously. It seemed to be taking the opening Kyle was hesitant about, not filling it. Now that they'd defined the parameters of the strategy the scenario didn't last much longer.

"Good job," Jack said, finally turning back to Kyle as the buzzer announced the end of the scenario. The bat scraped against the floor of the DR as the simulation cleared, the end coming to a rest between the taller man's feet. The threat was over. He closed his eyes and a faint hitch caught his breath, his posture loosening subtly as a moment of slack passed over his face. The arms holding the bat relaxed. When he opened his eyes again they were blue and brown -- unfocused, but they quickly found Kyle's face again.

"Good job," Jim repeated. His voice was slightly thick, like a person who'd just woken up.

"Uh. Thanks?" Kyle said automatically, before realizing that the voice, and eyes were different. That thought led him to scratch his head in thought, and then add. ".. uh, does the more then one person in your head thing mean that you.. can tell the other dude thanks too?" He looked around at the scattered drone parts on the ground, and the roomba-like devices that were already coming in to clean them up. "Also for the college stuff. It's, uh, probably something to think about, huh?"

Jim smiled slightly. "It's worth considering. I'll see what I can dig up for you. And it's okay. The 'thanks' counts no matter who's driving, regardless of which me you're thanking. We're all the same guy. Some parts are just less, um . . ." Jim made a vague groping motion, "tactful." In the slight awkwardness that followed he added, "Um, and if it makes you feel any better, I can get you a pamphlet about that too."