ArchivedLogs:Whatever Works

Whatever Works
Dramatis Personae Logan, Rasa, Shelby
In Absentia	2013-04-15 '
Location <XS> Gymnasium - B1
For a mutant school, this is a pretty standard gym, even if its sturdy construction to handle mutant powers is less standard. Still, it is designed along normal lines; setup for a basketball court, standard equipment -- punching bags, rubber mats, standard assortment of balls, weight training equipment, the usual fare. It is large, and as well-appointed as the rest of Xavier's tends to be. *Thud. Thud. Smack. Pow. Smack. Thwack...* It sounds like a 1960s Batman episode in the gym today - minus the music, and the large words censoring out any connecting punches or kicks. Logan, in a singlet, tracks and no shoes, beats the crap out of a punching bag, teeth gritted, nostrils wide and eyes focused entirely on whatever image he has in his head as he punishes the boxing aparatus. There are a few others using the gym at this time, but no classes in progress. People, students and instructors both, are either early (very early) for an upcoming training session, or hanging back later - or just... working stuff out in their own time. Music is playing - some compilation of all kinds of songs - and Logan ignores it completely. The man thumps his fists into the bag with increasing ferocity, causing other gym-goers from the school to give him a wide-berth. A few are practicing gymnastic routines on the large mat in the centre of the room. Rasa is dragging hir roommate into the gym, goading her gently with one regular gloved hand, while hir other gloved hand is holding the straps on a pair of padded gloves, in bright yellow and black. "So, it works, I swear. We just come in here, and we find a heavy bag and we kind of go to town on it. I might be able to show you how to hit it, but Professor Logan is much better," ze notes as ze continues to half nudge, half lead the way into the gym. The metamorph has taken on a bronzy sheen today, hir androgynous form having returned in full force (finally), with black hair, pulled back at the base of hir neck. Ze is wearing a short sleeved tee shirt and a pair of sweat pants, with sneakers. "It's not really... fun, but it's good for you." When amber colored eyes fall on Logan, ze lifts the glove laden, gloved hand and waves. For someone who has lived on the purportedly violent streets, Shelby is curiously reluctant about this whole beating the crap out of things business. Not that she's dragging her feet, exactly, but she /is/ giving the gym and its contents a look that could only be interpreted as "cautious". She's also taken the precaution of not dressing for physical activity, wearing a white sundress that she's decorated with Manet prints and a pair of sandals. No gloves. No ponytail. She is here for Moral Support only. "I'm better at hitting /on/ peeps," she remarks. Coincidentally, this is said /just/ as she catches sight of the teacher Rasa has waved at. "But whatever you want, I guess. I can try. You're gonna be better at it than I am." The last few punches Logan throws at the bag increase in ferocity... perhaps a fraction more than he'd planned. That may be more evident by the last punch, as his fist disappears inside the bag, leaving the man standing there in front of it, eyeing the bag, the arm, and the hole joining them as if he had just grown a new appendage. Then he notices Rasa and Shelby. "Oh. Hi, Ras'--" he frowns at Shelby (not recognising her), and merely nods as he steps in front of the bag (sort of), in a vain attempt to try and hide his arm which is still lodged inside it. "Who's the--" he pauses to pull at the bag. "Who's the--" and out comes the arm, which he flexes experimentally. "--friend?" His eyes stray to the ruined bag and he emits a sigh. "I'm uh, gonna pay for that." "This is Shelby. She's my roommate. She is having a very bad day, week?" Rasa casts Shelby a questioning look before turning back to Logan, "And I was telling her how this stuff has been helpful to me." Ze gives a little smile and begins switching gloves, taking off the ones ze uses to keep hir skin from touching other people's skin, and switching them for the fingerless punching gloves. "I was trying to talk her into trying, but I don't know if she's ready to take the leap. You know, if we have another bag." Eyes are focused now on the hole in the one Logan was using, hir head tilting to one side. Up go pale ginger eyebrows at the man with his arm in a bag. "Holy shit," Shelby says, tone casual rather than impressed. "...yeah. The whole goddamned week but this could be fun. Rasa's learning how to be an asskicker, huh?" Her elbow edges out, taps her roommate in the arm to urge her forward. "You think you could do that? Man, you gotta try it. C'mon. Touch him." "Yeah, they got spares." Logan reaches up to unhook the bag, and starts dragging it away. He pauses just briefly to glance back at Shelby and Rasa, and motions with his free hand between. "Talk... amongst yourselves." Then he grins. Heading towards a large in-built storage space in the gym, the grizzled man calls over his shoulder. "Asskicking, huh? Yeah, bub. ...Ze's--" (he hesitates on that personal pronoun just a bit), "--got some moves. I say that right, Ras? Whatcha wanna work on today? Show Shelby a thing or two?" Then he disappears inside the sports storage area, from which there are a few noises like equipment crashing about, followed by a loud thump of a large bag hitting something. "'Sokay!" he calls out. "Fuck, where's the--oh." "I'm kind of swearing off people's heads for a little while," Rasa confides to Shelby as ze wraps the glove straps around hir wrists, the velcro catching with quiet scritchy noises. "Besides, his head's a bit of a mess," ze ads very quietly, glancing at Logan as if ze knows he can hear. "Oh, we can go over basics, so Shelby can see what it looks like. I don't know. I think I'm still messing up the upper cut a bit." It's a tricky one. Ze looks at Shelby, hands catching behind hir back. "He's... my advisor. Do you have one?" "All arms and ass, no brains, huh? S'okay, still nice to look at." Shelby possesses enough survival instinct that she waits until Logan has disappeared into the other room. She also says this in a murmur--unaware of /someone's/ enhanced hearing. A faint smile is cracked at Rasa. "Basics is cool with me," she adds, lifting her voice slightly. "I'm like...more the cheerleader type." /Sure/ she is. The question gets a brief shake as she sidles around to Rasa's side, glancing around and appearing generally disinterested. "Jax kinda was but I dunno. Might ask for someone else." Logan appears out of the store room with a punching bag dragged behind him and promptly hooks it up. Then he gives it a couple of slaps and motions for Rasa to step up. Logan, meanwhile, holds the bag steady. "Test it out first," he says in his 'instructor' voice, and pats the punching bag again. "Then hit it like you mean it. Powers are... perks. Ya gotta be able to handle ya'self without 'em. C'mon." Then he glances at Shelby. "Stand over here if ya wanna better view," he says - indicating a spot to his side with his chin... and sticking his hip out just a tiny amount. He smirks viciously. "Okay then. So ya hit on alotta 'peeps', huh?" he asks Shelby a moment later. Rasa approaches the bag with hir face guarded, right hand closer to hir jaw, left stuck out about a foot further away, but in front of hir face. Ze gives the bag a couple quick taps, turning hir left fist over and thumping against the surface, then throws a right cross, which has more power, but it's fairly obvious that ze is still adjusting and settling in. Ze goes at it again, left, left, right, then left, left, right, left with increasing power. Hir form is good, hir footwork, still a little sloppy. "Kick its ass, Rasa," Shelby advises. Because she is the voice of experience? Right. Her roommate is probably better served ignoring the nonsense that comes out of this one's mouth. Witness the next tidbit of wisdom, called out with hands cupping her mouth: "Knee it in the balls!" Nevermind that punching bags do not have balls--she's gangsta, trained on the streets, yo. Then she's shuffling over to take the spot chosen for her by Logan, giving him a sidelong and rather narrow, assessing look. A look that flicks down to hip then up to eyes. "I hit on /all/ the peeps, dude. Didn't you hear? I'm the school slut now that Shane's took off." Logan shrugs. "Fair enough," is all he says in reply to Shelby, but he doesn't appear remotely offended. Then he adds: "So Ras' is tryin' ta get you outta the cheer-leading stands 'n into the game, huh?" He smirks and shifts his attention back to Rasa, nodding. "That's it--" "Nope. Too stiff on that one--" "Better. Follow it up--yeah. Don't play by the rules all the time, kid," he explains after several punches. "The f--bastards out there won't. Imagine it's an ex, or someone who's... hmm. " He ponders for a moment, still holding the bag steady. "Hive." Rasa throws a big left hook that curls in to hir chest and snaps back out as a hefty back fist that hits the pad hard. Ze takes a half step back and then steps in with a jab, punch, hook combo, before following up with a tap and another hook. "Actually, Hive is Shelby's friend," ze notes in grunts between punches, trying to get good breathing along with the strikes, slowing down hir ability to throw blows. "So, probably not a good idea to bring him up right now." The look that Shelby gives Logan in that moment is easily parsed. It is a look that says, 'Seriously, dude? /Seriously/?' "That was a goddamned /accident/," she points out, forgetting the no sass clause in the student contract. "Rasa knows Hive wouldn't've done it on purpose if he wasn't all fucked up right then." Her jaw is set at a bulldog angle that softens only when she looks back at the roommate in question--giving her a quick onceover to take in body language and the punches both. It might be an attempt at apology (for Rasa's safe!) when she adds, "Damn, you look like the real thing there." Logan shrugs. "Whatever works," he remarks blandly to Shelby, his manner 'off-hand' and almost dismissive. Then he nods to Rasa with more meaning in his tone and expression. "Whatever works. You wanna give it all ya got - but never out of control. Do that, and you've just handed the fight to your opponent, get me?" He moves around to the other side of the punching bag to eye Rasa's technique from a different angle. He nods, frowning. "Tighten 'em up a bit more, kid... yeah." To Shelby he gives a look. "Mistakes with people's minds shouldn't happen. Hive in combat? Tossin' round threats to make people do his bidding? You ask me, he's too free 'n easy with his 'mastermind' games. What happened to Ras' shouldn't've happened at all." He nods one last time to Rasa, and takes a step back from the punching bag - keeping one hand on it, just for any last attacks ze might make. "If ya can't trust your teammates, one or both o' ya should stay on the bench. Some mistakes... ya don't come back from." There's a distinct edge of bitterness to the man's voice there. Whatever thought or memory is attached to what he said, it leaves a sour taste in his mouth and it shows on his face. Still, he doesn't glare at Shelby any longer, lets outs a breath through his nostrils, and nods to the pair of students, in silence. Rasa does tighten up for a bit, but there's a bit of concern when Logan starts laying into Shelby a little harder. Lips twitch and nostrils flare as ze continues striking the bag, throwing in a right back hand, which is incidentally stronger than hir left. Ze swallows and stays quiet -- well, actually, grunts quietly as ze continues changing up the drill. There's an upper cut, but it stays a body blow, and another right left, hook, cross, jab, back hand. Rasa keeps glancing at Shelby. POSSIBLY DISTRACTED. It is not unwarranted to be a little nervous about Shelby's reception to this homegrown wisdom. Shelby lacks hackles but if she had them, they would be on the rise. "Look, douchenozzle," she begins, throwing caution to the wind, "the only reason Hive was fucked up enough to get Rasa in trouble is 'cause he was keeping about twenty /other/ people from getting triggered by the fucking /bad guys/ and killing /all/ of us, or /getting/ killed. You maybe don't got the brains God gave guppies but he was /trying/ to keep more people from getting /hurt/. It was an /accident/ and you can kiss my /ass/." The end of this tirade comes with flushed face and breathing every bit as ragged as Rasa's. Shelby finishes things off by flipping Professor Logan the double-bird. By now, they probably have a slack-jawed audience. "Kiss my /freckly/ ass," she crescendos. "Rasa, I'm going into the city." And then she turns to stalk off and do just that. Watching Shelby leave for a few moments, Logan sniffs once and mouth-shrugs. "Ease up on the coffee," he mutters under his breath, but his expression lacks the bite to suggest that he really means it. Then he nods to Rasa, looking weary. "Good job. It's about time we started sparring. Next time - the real work starts, okay kid? Good work." Nodding, he turns and heads away, muttering to himself. Rasa stands stiff as a board, white as a sheet for a moment after Shelby starts to storm off. When Logan effectively dismisses hir, ze turns on a dime and starts running after hir roommate, color blooming from the soles of hir feet first, sending wavering tendrils up through hir entire body as ze moves, only feathery threads running across hir face with each impact of hir feet. "Shelby... wait up." Shelby is almost to the door--and is getting her fair share of O.O and >:| looks along the way--when Rasa's call reaches her. She turns, her jaw still set, her lips still thinned--but she's waiting. Glaring daggers over Rasa's shoulder at Logan's retreating back, sure, but waiting. "...sorry. If anyone gives you shit about that, you tell 'em it was all on me, okay? Fucking rednecks." "I.. I I don't care if I get detention, Shelby. I'll serve it out with you." Rasa starts peeling off hir punching gloves, pulling out hir regular gloves from a pocket. The puffy gloves are crammed under an arm as they walk. "And I'm sorry about him. He's... well, he's old, like really /old/ and everyone's kind of fucked him over in a lot of different ways - at least the ones he can remember." Ze frowns, hir bronze color starting come back. "I am not defending him. I'm just... well, I'm worried about you, okay?" "They better not give you detention," Shelby grumbles with a last sharp look at the nearest person who passes as an authority figure. Then she puts her back to /everyone/ to walk out with Rasa, shoulder the door to the changing rooms open for the other teenager. "You shouldn't apologize for his bullshit either. Don't load yourself up with other people's shit, okay? That's like, a rule. Or something. You got enough to deal with." Grump. Gaaaaarump. But some of that sourness softens at the confession of worry, prompting the girl to let out a sigh. "I maybe shouldn't have called him a douchenozzle, okay, yeah. I'm fine though. Honest. It's not like this is any more fucked up than...everything else, right? No one /died/." "Eh. I'm mostly trying to help you feel better. Sometimes understanding what kind of problems a person has makes it more -- or less, yeah, less offensive when they stick their foot in their mouths, or someone's brain." Rasa's skin is steadily blackening, only a glittery golden shimmer remaining in the light. "I have to ask though, Shelbs, when you went off at Logan first, to defend Hive, was it because he kissed you or fucked me up?" "Yeah, well, he can still kiss my ass." Shelby, nothing if not stubborn. She has the grace to flush, at least, when Rasa asks what zie does though. "Rasa, I've known Hive, like.../forever/." Less than six months is forever in teen years, okay? "I knew him longer than I knew B. That's not...it doesn't mean...ugh." She passes a hand over her face and makes a low sound. "The only thing that'd make today worse is if I'd killed Ivan's spider, swear to god." "No, I'm worried you think that he only kissed you because he's fucked up." Rasa is the patient friend, trying to be supportive, eyeing Shelby carefully. That...was not a thought that had occurred to Shelby. It stops her in her tracks and leads her to give Rasa a look that is both searching and maybe a little horrified. "Oh. Oh /shit/." Rasa is still quiet and concerned. "If you don't think so..." ze tries to offer, but hir wrinkled brow and lack of other explanation leaves the moment awkward and unfortunate. Ze holds out a gloved hand in case Shelby wants support. "If you don't think so, then it's probably not true," ze tries again. "I'm thinking so /now/." Thinking it /hard/, oh yes. Shelby waves off the hand, opting instead to scrub at her face again, this time hard enough to leave her nose reddened. "That's...just fucking great. Oh man." Where is a convenient bench? She hunts one down to flop onto it. Her head ends up resting in both hands and her eyes latch onto the floor. "That was like...the only /good/ thing that's happened in forever. Son of a bitch." "Look," Rasa follows Shelby over to the bench and sits down beside hir, hands gripping the edge of the seat. "Good things sometimes happen in bad ways. Maybe that day was a bit of bad timing, but just go talk to him when he's not fucked up and maybe you'll still be number one on his list of people to kiss." Ze rubs a toe against the ground, hir sneaker doing all of the work. "Yeah. Yeah, maybe." Shelby doesn't sound entirely convinced--but she is all too willing to change the subject. Her hands are lowered while she takes a breath, ending up curled over the edge of the bench too. "You talked to Ivan? Since you got your juice back?" she asks, glancing over. There's tension around her eyes but the question /sounds/ genuinely interested. "No. He spends a lot of time with his bugs and with Peter. Sometimes I think Peter is one of his bugs," Rasa confides quietly to Shelby, brows rising. "Between me trying to get caught up on classes and him being who knows where, no. Not outside of class." Ze gives a little shrug and looks at the ground. "I don't know how this is going to work. I almost hoped there would be more time before cuddling didn't become strange brainreading formshifting again." Ze runs with the topic, but is still looking at Shelby, full of concern. "Boys are fucking stupid. You know he asked me if Jim had kissed you? He's being dumb and /totally/ messing that shit up with you. I swear to god, if B were here right now, we could like...lock 'em in a room with Taylor or something." Shelby looks down again. She's wedging her toe against the ground and twisting her foot as if she were trying to dig holes in the concrete. "Tell him to wave 'em around until they puke or stop being stupid." "He told me he didn't want to know if I kissed anyone else." Rasa's gold shimmers disappear, inky black covering hir skin instead. There are a couple deep breaths before ze speaks again, plenty of time for Shelby's Taylor thought to draw a dry laugh from hir throat. "Come on, Shelby. Taylor's totally strong and probably has some great energy, but even I don't think he could shake them /that/ long." Ze shakes hir head. "So, now that we've seen what I do to feel better about shit - what do you do?" "Yeah, well, he asked me. You should kick him in the balls. But you gotta get in line, 'cause that bug shit in the bathroom was /not/ cool. Good thing he has two balls." Shelby is assuming, anyway. She drops her head and turns it to slant a crooked smile at Rasa. "Your way's probably healthier. Me, I go visit my dealer, get fucked up and then go out dancing." "Well, as I would probably explode in four different directions on drugs, is there anything else that might help you take your mind off of things?" Rasa's brow... ridges... rise, climbing hir forehead curiously. That takes a moment of thinking. Shelby scuffs at the ground, putting serious brain power into the question. Then she puts on another smile. "Help me with studying for the bio test Friday? All this shit going on, I haven't really been able to study and Bastian was gonna...um. He was...y'know." Cue the oh so casual shrug. "Jim said he'd teach me to shoot rifles if I could bring up a grade." "Okay, but we should steal some of Logan's cigars too, study on the roof or something." Rasa ammends the plan. What alternate universe is this, with Rasa recommending the hoodlum option and Shelby suggesting /studying/? Maybe it's opposite day and no one told the ginger one. Shelby blinks at her friend--then huffs a series of snickers through her nose. "Okay, sure. You're on, let's do it."