Jennie & Arthur | Training

[x-longshot.livejournal.com]

Jennie coaches Arthur in the first steps of figuring himself, and his powers, out.

He had waited for about fifteen minutes before beginning.

The series of post-its notes left strewn through the common room of new suite had not only amused Arthur's new, surprise roommate, but they painted a clear enough picture: someone with a love of tiny spreadsheet doodling wanted the ex-star to meet them in the gym. He had shown up early, too, all bright eyed and bushy-tailed.

Well, he had met that girl recently. Not an apt metaphor. He paused, considering, mid-throw and twirled one of his knives thoughtfully. Aw well.

Concentrate on form. Step across, turn backwards, and thro --

The knife did not sink into it's target, instead it glanced off and hit with a regrettable ping on the floor.

"Hmmm, concentration was off on that one," a voice came from over his shoulder. It's owner sat cross-legged on a pile of matts, clad in leggings, pink dancing shorts and a snug black t-shirt, hair up in a dancer's bun. There was a greasy paper bag next to her, and she was happily munching away on a pork bun as she critiqued Arthur's form.

Jennie had read the files left behind for her, compiled by the professor and the now-lost Jim. There was evidence that confidence was linked to his power, so Jennie needed to observe him without being observed, rather like Jane Goodall.

Arthur promptly jumped and squealed indignantly.

It took him a minute to recover, but, quick as he spun a knife in hand well giving Jennie a once over, he was back in default form with a smile. "Can't hit every one."

"Well, that's debatable, with the way you work, it could be a bullseye every time," Jennie said, raising her arms over her head and arching her back so her spine cracked audibly.

"Pork bun?" She offered the bag, the picture of innocence.

"It could be," he admittedly readily while taking a nibble of pork bun, "But what's the challenge in that? Plus, I'm trying to not cause some poor soul here to loose their homework or something."

"It's not an absolute," said Jennie, beginning her stretches. "In time, we may discover a way of controlling that, to channel the chaos in a way that doesn't harm other people."

He picked at the pork bun, giving her an amused expression. "That would be something, huh? Luck without cost? I could live that way."

"But there's always a cost," Jennie said, switching to her other leg and arching her back. "I said 'doesn't harm people,' doesn't mean that there won't be a tit for a tat. People of our nature always must keep a balance, otherwise the world will snap back on us," Jennie stood and rotated from side to side, cracking her spine. "And then we'll really cause damage. But luckily you have me, I can channel any chaos you create, so you can get a feel for your power without causing real harm."

His response was much softer than his usual, bragging tone. "What if I harmed me and gave good luck to other people instead? I would rather live with that."

"I'll tell you what Wanda always told me," she booped him on the nose. "Don't be a ninny," she affected Wanda's accent. "This is why we work!" she spread out her arms. "Are we warmed up? Yes? Good. Now hit me."

That got a smile back on his face as Arthur quickly settled into a karate stance There wasn't any play or trickery in his form as he moved to throw a basic straight punch in her direction.

Jennie moved fluidly, ducking out of his way and twisting around. Earlier she decided to go easy on him, and not outright attack. She didn't know how powerful he was, or how far his range. This would be a game of dodge, testing his limits. Her fist glowed briefly, discarding the energy she'd absorbed from him. So far low-level. She raised her eyebrows and gave him a teasing grin.

She got the expression right back in mirror as Arthur began to move. His earlier karate stance gave way to a much more fluid, almost dance-like, motion as he circled her with the basic motions of the capoeria ginga. As they played, aggressor and defender, his movement never relented. From a cartwheel into a papagayo kick, from a single arm handstand into a butterfly kick, Arthur's motions spoke of many years of practice and an understanding of exactly the type of game this was.

Jennie observed, many years of training, many styles, but she wondered if he had studied very hard in any discipline. Jennie had training only in two different styles, Judo, from her first master, and Wudang boxing, from her second. While Arthur was very very good, his myriad of styles belied his ultimate problem, a lack of defined focus.

Without warning, Jennie switched to the offensive, coming at him in a flurry of quick movements, never touching him, but ultimately causing him to trip over his feet and land on his back.

This only got a laugh. It rang brilliant and true as Arthur made his way back to his feet, falling back into motion easily. Apparently his luck only extended to real danger.

"Point for you, then. Are we going to continue to play?"

"We could," Jennie said, brushing her sweaty hair out of her eyes. "But I have some questions first. How many styles have you trained in? And what is your proficiency in each?"

With Jim's files and the Professor's observations, plus her observations of the man in movement and how she felt his powers working, Jennie was beginning to form a training regime for Arthur in her mind.

He slowed, and his list met have been rattled off like a resume. "Well, that's easy. Sandan Belt in Shotokan Karate, followed by Formado in Capoeira for striking. I prefer Sanda for clinch, but have dabbled in Sambo and Judo for roles."

"Ah, movement-based, yes? Picking styles that look the best on camera, with your particular flare for showing off," she winked at him. "Tell me, have you ever thought about a more... internal style of fighting? One of my former mentors discovered that I had a problem with showing off. I'm a trained ballet dancer, and so I learned to fight based off of that. I took Judo because it allowed me to hit harder, but I was still not focusing, showing off with my power and the fact that I could jump seven feet in the air without the aid of any mutant gene."

"This got me my ass handed to me, time and time again. What helped was something that helped me focus inward. Not about power," she did several punches and Judo-style jabs, the air whistling past her fists. "Focusing my mind and helping me think about the world around my body, not just what was in front of me," her movements turned graceful, flowing. "This is Xing Yi Chuan, which means 'mind form boxing.' the forms and shapes assumed by the body are created by the mind. The mind predominates over mere physicality, and the basis of the style comes from the fusion of mindfulness or effortless thought and action. This allows me to maintain awareness of my surroundings when I'm moving, and how I interact with my surroundings with both my mind and my body," she ended the series of movements with a polite bow. "I feel you would benefit from learning it, as it also clears the mind and calms the body. As it's cousin is this--" Jennie began the first movements of T'ai Chi.

"Ah," Arthur began to mimic the T'ai Chi flow as if it were merely an extension of the conversation, "Control through focus. Makes sense. I know the benefits of mediation well enough -- I did live in California for over ten years -- but you're guessing my luck might be able to be channeled by.... intent? Will? Inward sight?"

"That's what we're going to find out. Most powers that deal with energy manipulation are controlled by thought, and right now your power is mostly unconscious. I'm hoping that we'll find a way to bring your unconscious mind and your conscious mind together, so that you can sense your power. Which will be the path to controlling it," She smiled as he mirrored her movements. "So yes, meditation will also be part of it, as will exercises in the danger room, though we have to be careful there. I may have broken it when I was 18," Jennie smiled fondly. "The second person in history to do so, they bought me a cake and everything." ​

"Danger-room. Why not? I had thought the sci-fi set in the basement was missing a battle arena."

"If you're super good, I'll let you play the super mario brothers setting," Jennie said, hands on her hips. "How are you feeling about all this. And no charm, how are you really feeling? If I'm to train you, you need to trust me. And I need to know in order to take care of you."

"Well," and he stopped too, all of the brightness draining from his features, "I really want to get where you're going here, but I feel a little like it might not be the worth the effort. In India? Under attack? Acting as a team's luck rabbit's foot? I felt nothing. The only time I have felt my power was when you and I..." He paused, not sure how to continue, and let understanding hang between them. Her sucking up his luck and turning it against everyone. "That's not a healthy place to be."

With that ping of self doubt, somewhere in the mansion a clock lost five minutes of time and a red string of chaos twinged mournfully.

Jennie felt the chaos slip though her and she sighed. Her heart hurt for him. She put her hands on Arthur's shoulders. "One day at a time. I'm not here to put you on the team. It's there if it's something you want, but no one, no one will force you to do anything you don't want to do. This isn't forever. Just think of it as an extended, like, vision quest or something. You will get to know yourself better and your power. But it's going to take a little time. You have to unlearn a few things."

Jennie stepped away and rolled her shoulders. "When I first arrive I mostly just made things blow up, and that was usually without me thinking about it. It took some time, but I learned. Now it's my turn. If you trust me to, I can help you. I want to help you, because once upon a time I was you. It does get better. I swear."

The blonde sighed. "This here. This thing. This. I am tired of feeling sorry for anyone. I am tired of feeling sorry for myself. It does no one any good. I am not your pity case, but I will be a mentee and friend."

While this exercise in extreme optimism wasn't the best Arthur had ever managed, his tone was true. No smiles.

"So now we learn."