ArchivedLogs:Vignette - Punching Bags

Vignette - Punching Bags
Dramatis Personae Peter, Hank
In Absentia	2013-04-08 Peter continues his training with Dr. McCoy.
Location <XS> Danger Room
Peter's in the wrestling ring again. Clad in his familiar red hoodie, blue jeans, tabi socks, ski-mask, and yellow goggles, he looks like a gimmicky wrestler. And he's currently locked in battle with a massive /beast/ of a man - the silver-masked El Santo. "CODO HUELGA!" El Santo descends for Peter from above - his entire body nearly horizontal, his elbow jutting out beneath his face, aiming to deliver a brutal blow to the teenager. And at once, Peter - who is on his back, hands spread out to either side - /scuttles/ like an upside down crab, managing to just /barely/ avoid the impact. The entire ring shudders as El Santo slams down into the space where Peter was an instant ago; at once, Peter's back on his feet, hopping to one of the posts to crouch and peer at the wrestler. "Pause," Dr. McCoy - sitting among the peanut gallery (in fact, the /only/ member of the peanut gallery; the wrestling ring's seats are otherwise empty) - speaks, even as he taps something into the laptop in front of him. The furry blue teacher is currently clad in a white collared shirt and tie; his face is split by a frown. At the word 'Pause', El Santo - in the process of rearing up to face Peter - instantly freezes. To the point where it's /unnatural/ - he no longer looks like a living human being, but rather a mere statue of one. "Wha -" Peter stiffens on his perch atop the pole, glancing back at Dr. McCoy. "What's wrong?" "Peter. Why are you not /punching/ him?" "Am I - supposed to? I mean, I can totally pin him without punching him," Peter explains. "Besides, wrestlers don't punch, do they?" "The point of this exercise is not to teach you how to wrestle in the style of Lucha Libre," Dr. McCoy explains. "The point of this exercise is to shake you out of your pattern of /avoidance/." "Avoidance? What are you talking about, avoidance? I don't avoid anything let's get back to wrestling." Now, Dr. McCoy's glasses are removed - a gesture that is followed by an appropriate amount of bridge-of-nose rubbing. "Peter, you avoid /everything/. It is the very nature of your mutation: Evasion." Now, Dr. McCoy points at El Santo. "You keep trying to find clever solutions to all your problems. But sometimes, clever solutions are not the best solutions. Sometimes, the best solution is to hunker down and be extraordinarily /unclever/. Sometimes, the best solution is to just /punch/ your problem. Right in the nose." Peter looks from El Santo back to Dr. McCoy. "...but what if, I - like - hurt him?" "He's a digital construct, Peter." "But he /looks/ real..." Dr. McCoy's face twitches, risking a smile. "If you're interested in debating philosophy with me, you might have to wait until you're back in the classroom. But if it helps, the models we're using won't feel any pain. They're also notably lacking in internal physiology." "I just don't want to - I mean - couldn't I punch a robot?" Peter asks, giving Dr. McCoy almost a /pleading/ look. /This/ gets Dr. McCoy's eyebrow raised. "Computer: Unload El Santo." El Santo proceeds to vanish. "Load Dum-Dum." Immediately, in El Santo's place, is a grey segmented dummy. His features are absent; he has the look of a crash test dummy, except without a face. "What--" Peter asks, peering at 'Dum-Dum' as he hops down from the post. "To respond to your question, Peter: For now, yes. But if you plan to put yourself in danger, you must learn how to deal with danger. We do not live in the 22nd century," Dr. McCoy adds with a wry little smile. "Robots are not going to constitute the majority of threats you face. You /will/ have to learn how to punch people." "I'm - I mean, I punch - kind of hard," Peter says. "What if -" "That's why I've loaded Dum Dum. We can use him to assess just how dangerous your punches are - to practice pulling your punches," Dr. McCoy adds. "And then we can work our way up to punching things that resemble living creatures." "...okay," Peter says, sounding unsure. "So, you want me to...?" "Punch Dum Dum as hard as you can," Dr. McCoy responds, smiling. "So we see just what it is we're dealing with." Peter looks at Dum Dum - frowns - touches his chest, pressing his fingers against it. Satisfied with the feel, he then steps back, clenches his hand into a fist... and throws a punch. It whumps loosely off of Dum Dum's torso, having little effect. "Peter," Dr. McCoy says, his face drawn into a frown. "I sincerely doubt that is your hardest." "I just - I mean, I guess not, I guess I could..." Peter sucks in his breath, bites down on his bottom lip - then takes two hops back. /This/ time, he flings his arm back and /hurls/ his fist at Dum Dum's chest. And this time, his fist goes straight through - popping out the other side. Dr. McCoy stares. Peter stares. And then, frantic and horrified, Peter begins to tug. "OhGodohGodohGod--" Dr. McCoy drops a hand down to Peter's shoulder as he does. "Computer, unload Dum Dum." The dummy disappears, freeing Peter's fist. "Alright, then," he tells him. "We'll take this slow."