xp_logs | Inez and Garrison - Baseball and Banter

x-desperado.livejournal.com posting in

Garrison comes across Inez letting out some stress through batting practice, and helps clear the air about some of her recent issues. - Takes place before the evening's mission.

Inez wasn't certain who had set up the big net and pitching machine out in the back yard, but an impromptu batting cage was just what she needed to get out the residual frustrations of the past week.

The machine thumped and spat out a fastball, and she chopped at it with the bat, sending it bouncing off the ground and into the net. She missed the next one, hearing it thump off the wooden backstop behind her. The third ball she hit solidly, sending it high and into the net. After a few minutes and more hits than misses, she set the bat down and walked around picking up the scuffed and dirty baseballs, smiling when she saw a few with the cover completely torn off.

"You're pulling your hips out when you swing. Keep your shoulder closed and you'll get better contact." Kane's observation came out of nowhere, as the Canadian appeared to materialize behind the backstop, leaning on it easily and watching her collect the balls.

"How long have you been sneaking around and watching my hips?" Inez snapped back, smiling at Garrison as she dumped the bucket of baseballs back into the hopper of the pitching machine. "Dirty old man."

"See, that's just not cool. I try and provide valuable insight into the art of striking a baseball cleanly, and you turn it into a felony. Also, I'm not old. Not even close. Jean's old. Nate's old. That tree is old. I am in the prime of youth. 100 percent prime." Garrison's rambling response was typical of the man; sarcastic, random, and seemingly disjointed until the end.

"Plus, this is my practice net you're using, so you should show some respect to your not very much elder."

"It's the beard," Inez responded. "Makes you look positively ancient, yo. Like, thirty-five at least." She smirked and picked up the bat again, waiting for the pitching machine to wind up once more. "So what's up with you and baseball? I thought all Canadians were hockey nuts or something."

She leaned into the next pitch, tucking her shoulder into it and rocketing a line drive into the net.

"Can't play hockey in the summer. Also, other than Logan, no one really follows hockey down here, so there's not much point talking about it. Believe me, I follow my Mighty Buds religiously when the season starts." Garrison wandered around the backstop, watching her. "Drive off your front foot. When you're coming into the pitch, the transfer should have all your weight forward when swinging."

Following Garrison's advice, Inez swung hard at the next pitch, but only caught it with the edge of the bat, sending it backwards into the trees. "Stupid reflexes," she mumbled. "Why couldn't I get super-coordination like half of everyone else around here?"

"Because the world is unfair. Or something. Here." Kane tossed a baseball at her, and hit the pause on the automatic pitching machine. The ball looked like a normal baseball, except for the alternating black/red stitching, and a light blue ring that incircled the diameter.

"It's called an ecstatic ball. Something Mac Hudson came up with. It equalizes out kinetic impact into the relevant norm. I don't even pretend to understand the physics behind it, but it basically negates superstrength and speed when striking the ball, so it flies like a normally struck pitch."

Inez tossed the ball from hand to hand and frowned. "So what, no matter how hard I hit it, it's just going to be like normal? That's weird, yo. What's it for?"

"Originally, the Alpha Flight Canada Day barbeque. The idea was that people with enhanced strength or speed; powers they can't turn on and off, would still be able to compete fairly against other people. I brought some of the sports equipment that Mac created, although it's been mostly sitting in my room."

"Dude. Summer ballgame, yo. S'all I'm sayin'," Inez drawled, flipping the bat end over end. "That way no one can whine about us strong folks 'cheating', right? Although I suppose the speedsters still have an advantage, but most of them are antisocial shitheads anyway."

"Ah, I see we've resolved our giant outstanding issue with the Beaubiers. Good. I'm glad that's worked out." Kane rolled his eyes. Teenagers, even the good ones, were still monumental pains in the ass.
Garrison toed one of the bats and flipped it up with his foot, catching it neatly and taking a couple of practice swings. "So, want to talk about it?"

Inez shrugged. "I don't even see why they're here," she griped. "I mean, any schmuck with a community college degree can teach Literature, and most of them haven't killed anyone or gone crazy. From what I hear, both of them have major crazy issues, which I figure is just great to let them buddy up to kids."

Inez set the bat down and picked up a handful of small rocks, crushing them into littler rocks as she went on. "Yeah, I was a bitch to whatsername when she showed up. My bad. But I don't get it. I thought this place was for those of us who need to learn control or stuff. Not some place for people to just freeload and squat just because they happen to be mutants. I mean, I went out and got a job. I volunteer with Red X, I'm even taking another year doing the New Mutants stuff. What are they good for, huh?"

"Not unvalid points, but the fact is really that they're here because the Professor invited them. He's made the decision that they don't represent a threat." Kane tapped his own elbow, bringing it up a bit to make his swing more level. "But they aren't our only freeloaders, and you tend to be able to ignore them." His brown eyes locked on to hers.

"Oh, and the Professor's never made a mistake before?" Inez said with arched eyebrow. "Ain't no rule says I have to like everybody, y'know. They stay out of my way, stay of my space, and they can keep doing whatever it is they do. Don't start none, won't be none, right?"

Kane snorted in amusement. "Sure, that's exactly what you were doing on the journals. I hate to say it, Inez, but eventually, you're either going to have to actually talk face to face with Jean-Paul about your issues, or end up sniping away over the journals because you don't want to resolve it. And that-" Kane hit the button on the machine, and crushed the first pitch into the net. "is the point when you get to say 'don't start none' because you don't like them."

Inez shrugged and leaned on the back of the wooden backstop. "I don't got anything to prove to him, either of them. Other way around, way I see it. Show me anywhere else in the world where a teacher can say 'oh, I murdered a guy the other week, and I totally went crazy dangerous' to people and they still trust him around kids? Folks like Nori defending him? I mean, sure, she's a retard and can't even speak English, but that's a bit much."

She frowned and looked at her knuckles. "It's like...whatchacallit, Stocker Syndrome or something, when bank robbers get their hostages to be loyal to them, no matter how crazy they are."

"Stockholm Syndrome." Garrison took another swing and frowned. That one would have been right at the first baseman. "You know things aren't the same here as the rest of the world. The circumstances are more than a little fluid, so you have to use your judgement. As for something to prove, I couldn't consider that even further from the case."

Kane caught one on the screws, and the whole net cage shuddered. He hit the pause on the machine with the heel of his bat. "I think the reason you keep bringing it up, and can't let it go, is because you're not entirely sure what you believe. So go and have it out with him. If you still think he's a murderer after that, at least it will finally settle the issue for you."

Inez stopped and gave Garrison a long, hard look. "Go have it out with the psycho killer. Yeah, stick to the batting advice, dude. Although..." She held up a golf ball sized rock between two fingers, squeezing it until cracks began to show. "I probably could take him if I had to, y'know. Ain't likely too much different than Queen Anorexia back in October. I ain't looking to pick a fight, but I ain't about to let him go all crazy on me or anyone of the others. Even if they're dumb enough to think he's some big cuddly woobie."

She stopped for a moment, thinking about what she'd just said, then thinking about how miscommunication had screwed up Angel and Julian, and how the he-said, she-said game always wound up with everyone worse off. But Jean-Paul had admitted he killed someone, how could there be any other explanation?

"So yeah, maybe I'll try talking to him. But if I gotta drop him off at your doorstep in a bunch of broken pieces, it's 'cause he started it," she insisted defiantly.

"I wouldn't worry about a fight, Inez. You're right that the Professor isn't always right, but in the very remote possibility of Jean-Paul flipping out and attacking a student would last about the nano-second it would take Xavier to shut him down." He focused on the middle distance past the net, as if contemplating where to hit the ball.

"I also wouldn't be so confident. Jean-Paul is many things, but an easy target is not one of them. I've trained with the man and seen him in action. At this point, I'd be very unsure whether or not I could take him alone. And you, my little bag of Old Dutch, are about a lifetimes' worth of training behind me, eh." He grinned. "Even if you don't want to respect the man, respect the abilities."

"Training's a poor man's excuse for talent, yo," Inez teased, idly leaning forward into a handstand and taking a few steps before arching forward back onto her feet. "And besides, you're almost over the hill. Better get your shots in before you're ordering off the seniors menu, right?"

"I'd threaten to take you over my knee, but I have a very bad feeling that's probably what you've been angling for this whole time. I listened to the Police about a hundred times before agreeing to help teach, just to learn all the tricks of you teenagers." He flipped the bat to the backstop, and stretched. "And in conclusion, I'm going to get a sandwich, have a swim, and watch a pvr'ed baseball game. It's a tough old life at my age."