Cammie & Logan: Training

[x-scorpion.livejournal.com]

Another training session between Cammie and Logan puts her through the grinder. -Early Afternoon

Cammie showed up for this session ready to go. She had bought ‘new’ gym clothes. Even with two jobs she bought things from the good will or consignment stores more often. She also brought a bottle of water. Yeah, she would’ve preferred to drink anti-freeze, but one way she was completely human was water worked just as well as anything else at keeping her hydrated.

Besides, she was saving the anti-freeze for something later. Chemistry! Of sorts, anyway. But right now the fight was on her mind. She pulled off the bandages on her left arm and put a smile on her face. She liked talking with her fists, that she couldn’t hide.

“You ready to go, old man?” she asked brightly.

"Keep your shirt on." Logan said, digging out an old link ladder from a closet and laying it flat on the ground. "Today is footwork with a little extra." he said with a grin, putting a mannequin from the Danger Room at the end of the latter. "This here is Svetlana Mannikinov." he said with a grin. "She comes standard this year with a toxin detector." he said. "Pay attention and I'll demonstrate what it is you'll be doing today." he said.

"It's like this. One foot in, both feet in, one foot out, both feet out. Down the ladder until you get to Svetlana here, at which case you'll give her a nice strong body-shot. But hold your toxin in - if you leak, she'll let you know." he said. And just to demonstrate, he almost seemed to dance down the line, his feet never disturbing the ladder's edges or links, and at the end he hit poor Svetlana so hard he knocked her over. Luckily for her, she bounced right back up. "Like that." he said, looking at her.


"Go."

She had a crack on her lips about how she wasn’t going to take anything other than her bandages off for him. Then she watched him set up the ladder and the mannequin with a raised eyebrow. Footwork. She could do footwork. Well, in a way. It wasn’t like she had taken dance or any of that crap as a kid. Gymnastics, at least, had taught her balance. That part she was sure she wouldn’t have trouble with. The last part, well, it was time to see if making her arm feel like it was holding in a bad sneeze was worth it.

‘Svet’ wouldn’t know what hit her mannequin-y ass.

He said ‘go’ and she went, mentally reciting the pattern as she did so.

One in, two in, one out two out…

She thought she had the pattern solid, then she had to keep herself from tripping over the damn ladder.

"Faster!" Logan barked. "Forge could run this faster! MOVE IT!" he said encouragingly. And at high volume. She landed a mighty blow on Svetlana - and then she promptly screamed her damned fool head off. "Congratulations, you've just killed Svetlana. Again!" he said, walking over to reset the dummy for another run. "Let's see if you can move less like some kind of slug you find under rocks and move like an agile warrior!" he urged her.

It was going to be a long day. For her.

“What the hell do you want, a rocket on my back?” she returned as she gave it another go. She had tried to hold it back when she got to the end, but after almost breaking her face on the ladder it was a little hard to concentrate on it. Which she figured had to be the point.

Take two, the moment of truth had her almost falling into the dummy when she punched it.

"I was told you were light on your feet. Maybe - if you were an elephant." he said with a grin. "C'mon, kid, pick it up!" he hollered. "And what the fuck do you call that? Sloppy! I'm pretty sure Scott's grandmother hits cleaner than that." he groused as he picked the dummy back up and reset it. "Another go!" he said.

Truth be told, she wasn't half-bad on her feet. Still, she needed work and discipline and this would be a decent way of getting both of those accomplished. And he was expecting the dummy to complain louder than it had been. She'd been practicing, which was good. Told him she was taking this seriously. Maybe if she got a couple of good runs through they'd add the shadowboxing part.

“I’m lighter than you are,” she grumbled. Which wasn’t true. In the way they were talking about anyway. But she grit her teeth and did it again.

And again. And another time, when her footing messed up near the end. If she had to kill herself to do it, she’d get it right before she left here, that was for damn sure. The expression on her fast the last run was enough to make most people balk, despite her size.

Logan kept right there with her, watching her, correcting her where she went wrong, keeping her lighter on her feet. "Balls of your feet, Black!" he barked when she started flat-footing her ladder-stepping. "Come on, kid, gimme one good run and we'll switch up, work a variation." he promised her.

“What’s this, dance class?” she returned, but did what he asked. He was, after all teaching her for a reason. You had to have respect for a guy who could wipe the walls with you while still smoking a cigar. Even if it was just a little bit.

Light on the feet… keep the pattern… hold it in and punch.

It always felt like holding in a sneeze only with her arm. But this time, she was sure she was going to nail it.

"If you can fight, you can dance." he pointed out as she finally got a good run and nailed the mannikin in such a way that it only complained slightly. "All right. Good run. Take a quick breather." he said, moving Svetlana off to one side and grabbing a pair of hand-shields from the storage closet. "Now you get to hit things." he said with a grin. "Same footwork drill, but on each step in you throw a punch. No toxins, still." he warned. Step, punch, step, punch, step out, step out, move on to the next one. Got it?" he asked.

She took the moment to take a quick drink of water. Chugging it would be bad, so just slow sips as she listened, “Yeah, think I can handle that,” she said, hoping she could. At least now she’d be hitting things. She hoped that’d make the control thing better instead of worse. But with a lot of punching there was always a chance of slipping.

She knew that from experience. What her body wanted to do didn’t always line up with her mind.

“I’m ready when you are she said with an open armed shrug,” bring it on. "

Logan just grinned and stepped into place. Their first trip down the latter was decidedly rocky - she was game but he could tell she was burning through her resources pretty fast. "Oh, come _on_." he said, trying to get his sensitive nose away from her stink. "You call that a hit?" he taunted her. "And keep your feet moving. Do NOT set and punch. Stay mobile." he warned her. "You set and punch, I'll put you on your ass." he warned her.

It was easy for him to say, but she bet his muscles weren’t starting to hit that ‘why do you hate us’ burning point that she was getting to. “I’ll show you a hit,” she retorted and tried to pick up the pace and the footwork. Though the latter was starting to get clumsy despite herself.

She at least tried to keep the punches clean. That alone had her brow furrowed in concentration. Holding it back. Always holding it back.

He went up and down the ladder with her, holding the bags, making her work for her punches. They were ragged and soft, but the time wasn't quite right yet to work footwork and power. This was just getting used to hit-and-move, balance, coordination, and speed. The rest would come once that foundation was built. Cammie would never be a stand-up striker, but give her some decent mobility and speed and she'd cherry-pick command-level targets all the live-long day.

Someday.

Her legs were seriously starting to burn and go rubbery, but she kept pushing herself. It wasn’t like Cammie hadn’t ever had to before. Once she had run like it was a matter of life or death, and to her it was. But she had collapsed afterward.

Cammie had a feeling that was going to be the case here too. The point to any sort of training – in her mind – was to find whatever your limit was and just destroy it. Leave it to the winds.

They had to be almost done, she could barely move her feet anymore, let alone punch anything. But she would not fall over. She refused to.

She had spirit, but he didn't want to burn her out too quickly. After one last run, he looked at her. "Take a quick rest, Black." he told her as he lit his cigar. "Then you'll give me five laps, give me a solid twenty, and you're free to go." he told her. "Next week we'll do some real work. Did a pretty good job on the holding it back thing." he told her. "Could be better - will get better - but not bad for Day One." he said. "Only killed Svetlana here a dozen times or so. I was expecting you to go over twenty." he confessed.

"Break's over. Get moving, kid." he told her.

“…That wasn’t a break! That was you talking!” and Cammie trying not to pass out. But again, she didn’t complain as she started to run, though she was half afraid she’d fall on her face as she did so. Running she didn’t waste her breath to grumble but certainly didn’t think it was fair for him to think she’d ‘kill’ the dummy twenty times or so.

Maybe that was good for some sort of prize. Which she would’ve asked about if it didn’t get her more pushups. After this, Cammie was going to waddle back to her room and pass out for a day. Real work, he said. She was scared about what ‘real work’ might be.