Cammie & Garrison

[x-scorpion.livejournal.com]

Cammie goes to the gym and ends up getting a lesson in fighting from Garrison Kane.

The gym almost always had people coming and going, using the machines or the heavy bag, or sparring into the ring. In Garrison's case, he'd just finished another one of his private sessions, trying to get back into the swing of training after almost three months of inactivity. While most people needed regular training to keep in fighting trim, Kane's tactical chip was a natural cheat, immediately identifying attacks and triggering responses. In his case, he had the reverse problem, having to override his initial reactions and slow down to properly teach the people who he helped.

Stretching his muscles following the workout, Kane draped a towel around his neck, considering the rest of his day. It was a little early, for both dinner or a beer, and thoughts of more used car shopping depressed him. Turns out that his insurance policy didn't cover assassination attempts, and his Crown Victoria had been a total write off.

Cammie had come to the gym to make good on the offer of unlimited punching bags Terry had made. She was starting to feel a bit trapped, or maybe it was a touch of cabin fever, either way it made her want to beat someone's face in. Or even substitute that with a punching bag. As such, she caught the last little bit of whatever it was the guy there was doing.

Instead of standing there completely quiet like she had a second ago she simply said, "Hey."

"Hmm?" Kane looked up from his gymbag to the new girl standing there. Right, the one the X-Men had brought in only a couple of weeks ago. He was still catching up following his return. "Hey. Carmilla Black, right? New girl on campus?"

"Ugh. People keep calling me that. Don't call me that, I go by Cammie," she said, shaking off a shudder of almost mock horror. "And yeah, guess I am. New that is."

"Cammie, eh? Point taken." Garrison briskly toweled his hair and beard, getting the sweat off. "I'm Garrison Kane, one of the floaters around here. They bring you in for the school, or are you one of the new Institute additions?"

"I'm not going to classes with a bunch of kids, if that's what you're asking," sure she was only a year over eighteen, but in her own mind that made all the difference. Of course, she was still technically a teenager, not something she was going to point out at the moment. "I'm just hanging around, and thought I'd come here to punch something."

"Sounds kinda boring to me." Kane said with a shrug. He knew she'd been picked up off the street, some kind of cross between runaway and conwoman, he assumed. Some of the spikiness would either wear off as she discovered that the mansion was safe, or she'd carry it the rest of her life. Either way, that was the Professor's job to deal with, not his.

"There's a heavy bag in the corner, a couple of speed bags over there, one of those martial arts training things that looks like a structure for drying pasta, and some miscellanious pads. However, there isn't really a substitute for practice with real people, only that usually involves a class with a bunch of kids." His grin split his brown beard with the good humoured needling of her. "Unless, of course, you're interested in some advanced training. That's my area."

"I'd rather fight a person than a bag," Cammie said, "Besides, once I use one, it will have to be burned or something," she said. She supposed she could've held back toxin while punching a bag, but it would sort of defeat the purpose, besides she was so used to letting some go when she hit something that it had almost become automatic now.

"Which means I also shoudln't be punching people, stupidly enough." People here anyway. People somewhere else? Well, maybe she'd find a bad bar full of stupid bikers that she could have a grand olde time at.

"Right, you emit poison through your skin, right? Do you have any control over the toxicity, because as long as you don't kill me immediately with it, I might have a solution for you." Kane said, starting to pick at the tape on his hands, and then stopping. He had a feeling he might need it.

"I can control it. I try not to drop people like flies, no one seems to like that," Cammie said. "Otherwise, it's just going to hurt a bit. Or make you start puking - but I'll try not to put that much out. Why, what's your idea?" Please let it involve punching someone. She really needed to punch something.

"Two things. First, my powers are enhanced physical attributes, including endurance, which means what makes other people sick barely fazes me. Second, thanks to being held captive and used as a human weapon by a lunatic, my skin adapts to external factors. As long as I can survive the initial exposure, my skin will adapt to block any transmission of the poison." Kane held out a hand for her to touch. "So, if you're looking for a little sparring time, just don't kill me in the first thirty seconds or so, and we're safe."

"Heh. Creepy," Cammie said, but shook off her left hand, "Don't worry, I don't kill people on purpose. So we should be cool. And I could use the sparring. I haven't hit anyone in like... wow, three weeks? A month?"

"A little pent up aggression going on there?" Kane pointed to the table in the corner. "Pads and tape are over there, and there's gym clothes in the girls locker room if you want something more generic to bleed on."

"Nah, I hopefully won't be bleeding much," Cammie said. As for pent up aggression, she thought about it. Maybe. Okay, yeah, she did. She was used to being able to let off steam like that. So she felt couped up now. That didn't help with anything. "But yeah, tape... for my right hand anyway," she said. The left was wrapped so all but the fingers were under layers of ace bandage cloth. It only took a second to tape up her right hand, and she even did it the right way.

"'Sides, isn't it bad manners or something to bleed on someone else's clothes?"

"The Professor provides the gym wear gratis. I think even he'd rather see them burnt after use, rather than inflict the smell on a laundry service after some of our workouts." Kane stretched his neck back and forth and rolled his shoulders. "Also, spend enough time training with Logan, and bleeding becomes the standard, as opposed to a rare experience, eh."

The Canadian assumed a basic stance, waiting calmly. "Alright, Cammie. This is your deal. Give me your best shot."

She'd give him a medium shot because her best shot could kill him if she didn't hold anything back. But when it came to her left hand she was always holding something back, even when hitting someone. She grinned though, looked over his stance and figured she hit him and and then kick him in the balls. That worked on most guys she had come across.

It was a good basic combo. She didn't pump her fist up as high as she would've in a street fight, but the amount of toxin coming out of the skin on her left hand and fingers was definitely going to sting. She moved in and swung her left fist right towards his stomach. Part two of the attack ready to go if that connected.

What she didn't expect was Kane to merely shift, taking the blow in the stomach, but turned enough so most of the power behind the blow was deflected. Simultaniously, he shot a quick jab across her left left eye, snapping her head back, and forcing her off balance at the same time. He danced back, well out of the range of any followup.

"First rule; I'm bigger and stronger than you, so don't open with a blow I can take." Kane said easily, once again coming back into position.

"Ow, yeah, okay," Cammie said, shaking it off. She may not have had inhuman anything, other than stench at times but she managed to keep her balance through practice and that alone. Even though it did mess up her footing. Generally she was able to take people one hit when she wanted to so this was going to force her to think.

She only paused a second than went in looking to sucker him. Her right hand was her bad hand, so what she was looking for was an opening to use with her left.

"Focus on what you want each attack to achieve, and what it leads to." Kane said, circling her, moving lightly on his feet. She definitely didn't have any formal training, but she had quick hands and feet, and didn't make any wasted movements. This was very far from her first fight, obviously.

"And that just sounds like the force of something," Cammie quipped. This guy gave no openings. She didn't like that. And even though they were in a gym there wasn't exactly a huge supply of things she could deck the guy with. She could work with pool cues, pieces of chairs, broken bottles, chains like the type people were dumb enough to keep on their wallets and any little thing like that.

That left her wondering if any of the punching bags could be used to even knock him against it. Or the gym equipment. Maybe she could bean him with a roll of tape and then... nah, that sounded stupid. Instead she pressed in, looking for a way to maybe get a hit in his back.

"It's called thinking before you hit." Kane slapped away the first jab at his kidneys, at least pleased that she was trying for something that would temporarily stun a normal person. He twisted as she came in, kicking out her ankle neatly and stepped back as she crashed to the mat.

"If you can't drop someone with the first punch, you need to think what the second is, how it leads to the third one. A punch turns into an elbow across the eye, a knee in the groin, a stomp into the instep..." He shoved her as she started to clambour up, deliberately pushing her towards the pads table, and the oh so tempting folding chairs for wrestling enthusiasts and bar brawlers.

Cammie didn't really have a setting for 'training fight' versus 'real fight' so the folding chairs were very tempting. She picked one up, turned one around and swung it. Hard. "Yeah, I'll work on that," here's to hoping the chair was going to hit. She wasn't quite tall enough to get him in the head, but a blow to the shoulders with a chair would've hurt no matter HOW you sliced it.

Kane grinned. The kid could have used Eugene, and his philosophy of 'everything is a weapon'. The chair went over his head as he ducked, and came out with two uppercuts to her twisted midsection as she was following through with the arc of the swing. She doubled over his hand, and he pulled her back with his other arm, nutting her once with his forehead as he gripped the back of her shirt.

Oh this was so not cool. She didn't enjoy taking the beatings, being used to given them out. Cammie had dropped the chair at the stomach punches. It was hard to think about beating someone with a chair when you were too busy sucking in air. She twisted around to hit him, and at the moment, she wasn't pulling the punch as much as she should've been. It would do more than hurt a little if the fist connected, he'd be pretty sick. It wouldn't be fatal though, she wasn't that sloppy. If she had had the leverage she would've tried to knee him too.

But she had to make due with what she could get away with. Which wasn't much, but she hoped she was fast enough to pull it off.

Garrison saw the blow coming, but didn't use his speed to twist out of the way. Winded, in pain, she'd still made a proper counter to the headbutt, and he let it land, catching him on the side of the neck. It broke the grip on her shirt, and as Kane reeled back, his entire body shuddered violently in response to the poison from her punch. He knew that he should have touched her before the fight, and now his system was trying to catch up with the poison.

Garrison took a few steps back, breathing heavily as he fought the poison. "Oh, that's really fucking unpleasant..."

"Yeah, so's being stomach punched and head butted," Cammie said, taking a few steps back herself. She considered picking up the chair for half a second but even she wasn't that mean. However his recovery time was going to be accented by a kick in the balls. Because pay back should be a bitch.

Kane caught her blow, blocking her at the shin with his forearm and used his reach to snag the front of her shirt, yanking her towards his lowered head. Her nose met it with a crunch, exploding stars in her field of vision as he let go, letting her stagger off balance.

"Next rule; your enemy is never to be trusted, no matter how hurt they might seem." Garrison grinned at the trickle of blood coming from her nose. "See, I heal real quick, Cammie." His next punch took her in the kidney, winding her. This one definitely had potential, and a chip on her shoulder a mile wide. A sweep of her leg knocked her to the floor, and in seconds, Kane had flipped her into a classic police hold, pining both of her hands at the wrists, knee in the small of her back, immobilizing the young mutant. He was careful to hold on the bandages of her greenish hand, confident that his reactive skin would protect him, but not interested in taking any more risk than necessary.

"So, ready to cry uncle?"

"I'm not crying anything - but I'm starting to think I should've hit you with the fucking chair," Cammie returned. Great, her nose was bleeding. She was really looking forward to having a tissue shoved up there all day. Wiggling to get free didn't do a damn thing, and she could put out all the toxin she wanted but it wouldn't make a difference if it didn't hit his skin. "Can I get up now... I'll even say please."

"Last rule for today. When defeated, your opponent makes all the rules." Garrison dropped his grip and stood up. "The chair is a bad weapon; oddly balanced, hard to use effectively, and doesn't deal much damage. I would have thrown it at me, and gone for the fighting sticks in the corner during the distraction. So, I think I can squeeze you in for two sessions a week, and maybe arrange a sparring partner or two that your powers can't hurt that you can practice with the rest of the time." Oh, he just couldn't wait for her to meet Marie or Lil in the sparring ring.

Cammie got up, holding her nose. She didn't want to bleed on the mats or anything. "I've beaten people with a chair before," she returned. But those people had been drunk. And those chairs had been broken. "Two sessions a week, huh? Really?"

"I've beaten people with half a Ford Escourt before. Doesn't mean it's a good weapon." Kane pulled a towel from his bag and tossed it to her for her nose. "The rules are this; you show up on time, you practice what I teach, and you don't waste my time. In return, I'll do my best to show you how to fight in the manner best suited for your size, build, and powers. This isn't martial arts or anything like that. This is how to hurt someone as quickly and efficiently as possible. I'll ask a couple of people if they can make time for you to practice with."

"Sounds good," she said, though her voice was now muffed because she practically had the towel shoved up her nose. She'd have to take the thing to be burned later too. "I think I can manage all of that," she said as to the rules. One, she liked to fight. So showing up on time to learn how to do it better wouldn't be a chore at all. Unless he wanted her to show up at like eight in the morning. She hated mornings. So much.

"Good. Next time, we'll work on how to avoid the bleeding." Kane said, as he swung his bag up on to his shoulder. "But don't be too optimistic, eh?"