Backdated, Wanda and Bishop

[x-scarletwitch.livejournal.com]

Wanda welcomes Bishop to the fold the old fashioned way: sparring match.



With no one to spar, Wanda had turned her attention to the heavy bag in the corner. The sounds of strikes filled the area as she continued to work, falling into an easy and fluid set. Flippy ninja stuff she couldn't do, wasn't built for it, but there was so many other things she was built for. She let herself smirk slightly as she landed an elbow strike, following it up with a solid knee blow that rocked the bag far enough away that she paused to catch it as it swung back.

Immediately after his interview with Emma and official acceptance to X-Force, Bishop walked around more to really be familiar with the area and set-up. He leaned against the door frame to the gym when he saw the woman practicing what appeared to be kick boxing. He had done some himself in high school and was pretty exceptional with it and the other combative sports. It was good to know other around here had the same inclinations, though he didn't expect any less. In good form Bishop didn't interrupt at all, even as she stopped to catch the bag and apparently take a little break.

She caught sight of him as she was shoving back some curls that had decided to escape the pins she'd put in for the session. "Well," Wanda called out, moving the heavy bag back into position, "considering I do not hear or see any frantic people about a strange man wandering around, I'm going to assume you belong to us." Taking a minute to grab the water bottle, she smiled in his direction. "I'm Wanda Maximoff and you must be the gentleman that Emma was bringing with her, yes?"

Even at Wanda's six feet tall he was still big. "Correct. I'm Bishop. I'm with X-Force now." He wasn't interested in a huge chat fest just yet. He'd get there but his mind was still gathering. He did return her smile, however. She seemed nice enough and at least decently aware of things. He also remembered she was part of their occult division. "You must be... the anthropologist?" He smirked a bit. She didn't look like she was a former queen of hell. Of course, he didn't imagine one would actually look the part but it also wouldn't be a good guess to get wrong.

Potentially the strong, silent, hot type. Wanda approved. "Got it in one and welcome aboard." She toasted him with the water bottle before finishing it off. Screwing the cap back on, she gave him a considering look. Her regular sparring partners were tied up with other things and while she enjoyed her solo work -- well, why bother when there was a potential session right there? "You wouldn't happen to want to indulge a lady with a round of sparring, would you?" she asked, tossing the bottle in the trash.

Besides, the best way of figuring someone out sometimes happened to be through a good round.

Bishop laughed a bit and nodded, pulling off his jacket and pistol with his shoulder holster. "I can do that. I'll get some gloves on and be right with you." He sat to wrap up his hands and put on a pair. He was curious to see what she had now, most people didn't ask him to spar, even if they were roughly his size and she was not. Once he was prepared he stood, glancing to her to follow her lead.

Wanda circled him on the mat, taking his measure for a moment. It wasn't a luxury they often had in the field but, then again, this wasn't the field. He was big, very big, and muscled. She had no idea how fast he was but she was willing to bet he was strong. A deep breath and then she was moving in closer, hands up, sending a snapped round kick towards his side. Testing the water.

As Wanda prepared Bishop did as well. He kept moving to stay in a good position and he waited. Bishop was actually not just big and strong but skilled. Not knowing Wanda's powers he couldn't bring himself to really hit her hard, though. He stuck to mostly the defensive; blocks, light jabs, and the occasional sweep. Even with a full on kick to his side, which was intercepted by his arm, he didn't seem to be too phased by it and the power of his muscles was a good hint to why. Although Bishop looked to be very well maintained he actually worked out for practical reasons and so his musculature was very dense.

If anything, Wanda's eyes were growing brighter by the minute. She was in the same boat as he was, knowing nothing about his mutation but understanding it was there. Without that knowledge, she relied simply on the physical and it seemed he could certainly take what she was currently dishing out. And the reverse was the same as well. She had decent enough speed but it was her strength and ability to take hits that really served her well. At heart, she was a brawler, though it had been refined a great deal through the X-Men and then Remy and Pete. Grinning around a shock of hair that fell down, Wanda stepped it up a notch, throwing out a ridge hand that was actually a feint, allowing the movement to hide the fact that she was going for his knees with a kick.

Generally Bishop was ever vigilant however smiling around curly hair was just... cheating. Wanda did catch his knees squarely and he did lose his balance however he was also a wrestler. Instead of just falling awkwardly it became a tackle as he went for a pin. He figured it would be the easiest and safest win. If she was as competitive as he could be then they both probably needed that out. He wasn't willing to start kicking, he wasn't even dressed for that. He also wasn't sure if her mutation would help if he began punching with vigor and something unexpected happened.

The move caught Wanda off guard and she grunted as they hit the floor, curling her shoulders to lessen the impact. Unwilling to give up just yet, Wanda twisted her hips just as Bishop was about to come to rest and managed to roll them. Unfortunately, it was very clear after a moment that this was his thing and not really hers. Another quick burst of movement and he was on top again, an arm lightly against her throat.

She grinned and tapped the floor with her one hand ... and then glanced subtly up at the fact that her other hand was in position around his face. If it had been for real, she'd have gone for the eyes.

Bishop laughed a bit from his rear mount, seeing her motioning to his eyes "Fair enough." He released her and helped her up to her feet, just lifting her by the shoulders, as he stood. "Good match." He moved to sit and began removing his gloves. She seemed to be a decent enough fighter and had the usual competitiveness streak of one. She didn't seem to really know how to fight well with a wrestler though and that was a flaw. Most fights ended up on the ground at some point or so he always heard. As a cop they always ended up there.

"Good match," Wanda said, hands on the small of her back as she stretched, sighing as muscles popped and groaned. "Very good match, in fact." Mentally, she was gleeful -- she was going to have to get him to teach her more about wrestling and that was something she was looking forward to. "Mind if I ask what is it you do? Powers wise?"

"I absorb energy mostly, more easily if it's pure. I can fire it back too." Bishop nodded, standing once his hands were free and putting his holster and jacket back on. "Do I get to know what you do too? I was wondering if you were going to surprise me in that match with it." He was happy with her ability to fight too. Apparently even the people he'd expect to ride desks were pretty handy in all sorts of things. I suppose he couldn't have expected any less, considering where he was.

At that, she winked. "Oh, believe me, I was tempted, especially at the end," Wanda responded, wiping the sweat from her brow. "You are a hard bastard to pin down, you realize that, yes? As for what I do, it is...well, if I had used it, I would have won. I affect the chaotic probability around us -- among a few other tricks that come part and parcel with it. In other words, the term "improbable" never, ever applies to me."

"I'll keep that in mind." Bishop laughed a bit at that. He stepped up to the door frame and glanced at her again. "I'll see you around Wanda." He figured he would fairly often too. He couldn't really imagine needing an anthropologist all that often but then again, she did affect probability. If she wanted to see him it would probably happen without him having anything to say about it.