xp_logs | Cammie & Julian: Ghost-hand *VS* Touch-of-Death

Julian and Cammie verbally spar in the gym.

Cammie was back to part of what could be counted a daily routine. She was back to working in the gym, pounding away on a bag. She was trying to hold back the toxin every time she hit, but there was still a visible green cloud around her wrist, and a stench around the bag.

It didn’t stop her though. Especially given she was taking a moment to just envision being able to beat the shit out of Logan.

Oh, that would be so rich.

Julian strolled into the gym, not paying much attention to who else was around. His iPod strapped to one of his meager biceps, he was otherwise clothed in a black shorts and a dark green tank top. This was starting to become normalcy for him- even though back home he'd swam every day, he'd only been in the weight room once a week. With the Vandals playing in his ears he flung his towel around his neck and started his warm-up stretches in the vacinity of the heavy bags. Suddenly, halfway through stretching his lower back, an oder reached Julian's nose and caused him to cough. He tore the ear buds away and spotted Cammie and her little cloud. "Aw, c'mon, what is that?"

“Just a little spice. What, don’t like the smell?” Cammie returned brightly, not stopping her punching. “It’s just a part of the show.”

A hundred quips raced through his mind, but he finally settled on, "Would that show be Dirty Jobs?" He coughed once more and took a step back away from them. "Seriously, what the heck is that, Cammie?"

“My touch of death in action,” Cammie returned taking a break. “I’m too bloody for dirty jobs. There’d be too much death involved and Mike Rowe wouldn’t be able to come up with some snappy comment for me,” she said, turning a grin on the kid. “It’s what I do. What I do sucks and smells horrible, but I’ve never met a gang of idiots I couldn’t take.”

"I thought you were kidding about that Touch-of-Death stuff." He sniffled, Julian's eyes watering slightly. "Next thing you'll be telling me they based a Street Fighter character off of you or something. Of course," a cough, "I won't believe you until I find out that C. Viper is actually short for," a sniffle, "Cammie." The scent was dissipating a bit, but it was still pungent.

“Why, how did you know?” she asked brightly. “Yeah, it stinks. But trust me, you don’t want to get hit with it.”

He didn't even want to be near it, "Because it would kill me?" Julian shrugged and held out his hand toward it, mentally erecting a barrier between himself and the mist that hung in the air. A clear, green shield of energy swept forward and pushed the mist away- moving it a dozen or so feet away before the screen disappeared. The smell traveled with it, bringing a breath of fresh air to Julian's lungs. He continued after a deep breath, "I almost believe that."

“If I hit you hard enough? Yeah, it could kill you. Before you hit the ground,” Cammie said, before she hit the bag with her right hand for a moment. “My blood can kill you do. I’m a walking ball of death.”

Julian smiled, "You're also a little ball of sunshine, Cam." Julian focused on one of the bags and took a deep breath in while drawing his hands back. He held his breath for a moment, focusing on the hanging object before he quickly pushed forward quickly with both his hands and his mind. A wave of bright green teek energy slapped the bag horizontal to the floor before it swung around wildly. The bags beyond it were shaken, but it was fairly shaken by the impact. "Bet your touch of death couldn't beat my ghost hand technique." Julian smiled and went back to stretching.

“Depends, can you sense someone sneaking up on you?” she returned. She didn’t care if the ball of sunshine shit was sarcastic or not. She was being somewhat honest, so it was hard to be melodramatic about anything there.

With a thud, Julian fell backward onto his back and continued his stretching, "That I can't so you'd have the advantage there. But! If I had a few seconds, head on, to gather myself, no way you'd be standing after...well, at least not in this county." He was being boastful; he'd never hit anything further than fifty feet, but she didn't know that. "Something tells me I wouldn't get that with you."

“Nope. Now I know to take you fast and from behind. Sounds sexy, but it’s pretty painful,” she said with a grin. “So you lose that advantage you think you have. I’m a fuckin’ Ninja.”

Julian snorted, "Guess so." His stretches were almost over and he'd soon wander over to lift some free weights. He could see her arms crossed over her chest, closed off and looking a little angry. "I don't want to fight you, Cammie, I'm just messing with you."

“Sorry, I’m in a violent mood. Means I have to find someone to punch,” she said brightly. “I am not going to hit anyone else here. It’s not something people generally like.”

"But I thought if you hit someone," Julian pushed himself up, "you killed them. So, which one of us finally pushed you over the edge?"

“I have it down to a fine art. I can not kill anyone I want with this hand. It’s just not going to feel good,” Cammie said, resuming her punching on the bag.

Limbered up, Julian did a few sit-ups before getting back up. He watched her hit the bag without a spotter, the foul smelling mist getting worse with every blow. He sighed and gave up any thought of having his own workout before homework. "Want someone to hold that for you?"

“Nope,” Cammie said. “If it hits me it hits me. I don’t care how close you don’t have to get.”

"Fine," she didn't have to be rude, he was only trying to help. "Have a good work out, Cammie." He put his earbuds in and started to walk toward a bench press, where the weights were already assembling themselves on the bar.

“Thanks for the offer, just don’t want to make you sick,” she pointed out, not caring that he had his earbuds in. This was one of those bags that was going to have to be destroyed totally and completely as soon as she was done.