Logs:Orbital Inclusivity MegaLaser Justice Cannon

Orbital Inclusivity MegaLaser Justice Cannon
Dramatis Personae Kitty, Marinov
In Absentia	2023-01-15 Maybe you should teach whatever this bullshit that you're doing is instead!
Location <NYC> Ogun Athletics -- East Village
This four story brownstone advertises its name in both kanji and English from a banner by the door, with a smaller sign reading "UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT" on the door itself. Up the first flight of stairs is the main level, where newcomers can register for courses and rent equipment at the main desk before venturing out into the padded training space. There are shower facilities on the third floor as well as strength training equipment across from the staff break room. On the top floor, two smaller studios are available for closed sessions, like women's self defence courses or instructor exams, as well as general bookings for members of the gym. A vitamin store takes up the ground level, selling questionably-effective supplements and re-branded traditional medicines along with home workout supplies and safety gear. The stairwell walls are littered with advertisements for upcoming sessions, some long past -- most recently red and black flyers of the updated anti-discrimination policies have been pasted over last winter's black belt exams. In one of the private studios, Kitty has just finished applying blue hand wraps to her wrists. She's dressed in black leggings and a navy rash guard, hair tied back into a puffy ponytail at the crown of her head. "...I've got some shin pads that have straps," she's saying to her sparring partner, "if you want them." This is some sort of understatement -- spilling out of Kitty's huge duffle bug are four kinds of shin guards not including the ones she's putting on herself, a hefty first aid kit, several varieties of wrist and ankle supports, choices of headpieces, and a pair of bamboo kendo swords peaking out of the bottom. "I don't know how hard you want to go but I think it would be great if we can walk home in one piece, you know?" "Yeah, shin guards are probably a good idea," agrees Marinov. They are in their workout clothes-- A tank top with the words All Cats Are Beautiful, the first letter of each highlighted in red, and with two outlines of cats on it. They do not apply any other safety gear without Kitty's prompting. "I definitely want to be able to walk home. I won't go too hard. I am, umm, pretty strong and all, but I can moderate myself." They bounce from foot to foot and toss out a few jabs at the air. "Besides which, I should probably do that anyways so I don't overextend when I inevitably miss. You seem pretty prepared either way, though." Kitty waggles a roll of wrist tape in Marinov's direction -- if they don't take it, back into the bag it goes with the spare shin protectors. "I can take a few bruises, but -- yeah. Appreciated." With gear squared away, Kitty bounces to the centre of the room, squaring up herself. "I've been training since I was eleven -- it's part preparation, part hoarding." A quick stretch, then Kitty beckons with curled fingers, a silent invitation for Marinov to attack first. "Part permanently borrowing from the school. Did you take any martial arts there?" "No thanks. Fur," says Marinov in response to the offer of the athletic tape, tapping a finger on their wrist a couple of times. "I did take some martial arts stuff, there. Things like Logan's School of Kicking Ass... I gotta burn a lot of energy off every day or else I start to feel just--" They crinkle their face as much as they can and stick out their tongue from between their prominent canines. "Bleh." When Kitty indicates their readiness, they lower into a more alert fighting stance. Their stance is unusual, but mostly in the way that their whole body is unusual; they start by throwing a quick straight punch towards Kitty to take measure of her defenses. "I get that." Kitty leans out of range, bobbing back in to strike towards Marinov's chest with a straight punch of her own. "Not the --same bleh, but. Needing to burn off energy. Anxiety. It's always helped me feel in control of myself." Her stance is more traditional, but Kitty does not seem thrown by the way Marinov's body moves. "For me, it's like--" Marinov sweeps their arm over to try and defend against Kitty's punch, retaliating with a quick side kick. This one has more of a snap than the punch. The tip of their tail twitches back and forth a couple of times as the move is executed. "--hf. Like a coiled spring. Building tension." Once they are able to get back to a neutral stance, they raise their guard up again. Kitty's arm gets swept out -- she brings it in quickly, but not quite quick enough to dodge out of the kick. Sucks in a sharp intake of breath as it connects with her stomach before ducking out of range. "Too much tension and the spring snaps?" Back in, feinting with a quick jab, waiting for Marinov's arms to expose their sides to attack. "How often does that happen?" Marinov keeps their guard up but weaves away from the path of the jab, guard still raised. "The tension? Hep-" they throw another couple of quick strikes at Kitty, which does for a few moments open up their guard to retaliation. "Either I'm sleeping or it's building. Something to manage." Kitty bounces backwards, dancing just out of reach until Marinov’s guard is down— “Hah—“ and she can bring her left shin up and into their side with way more power than her short frame would suggest. “Fashion design doesn’t seem like the most efficient outlet for that.” "Fff-" Marinov lets out a puff of air as they are struck in the side. Their muscle is more heavy and solid than one might expect by looking at them, but this is still enough to give their breath pause. They hop back to make some distance, holding their fists up as they seem to analyze their opponent. "Fashion's not an outlet, it's my heart." They bound forwards in a quick burst of speed to thrust their own knee at Kitty's midsection. “Does it ever get crossed — ffff — for you?” Kitty’s mutant gift isn’t speed — she hasn’t moved and just begun to bring her arms down to block when the knee connects. Marinov has an opportunity to land another blow before Kitty gets her wind back. “My heart and tension and — pfto — all that gets twisted up.” Marinov does not hesitate to take advantage of Kitty's opening, taking the opportunity to get in an extra jab. "Mmhmm," they confirm, though they do not add much more to that until they can reach a neutral position. "Not good at focusing for long. Not anymore. Got-- shitty brain syndrome." Kitty retreats after the second blow connects, guard up and breathing heavily. She's beginning to sweat, but her eyes are focused on Marinov. "Shit, I got helmets somewhere -- just because I never learned my lessons about multiple concussions doesn't mean --" Kitty darts back in, faking like she's going to throw another punch before her leg comes up to hit Marinov's front leg from the inside. "-- doesn't mean we gotta make your brain worse, too." "I think a little brain damage might shake things back into place." Marinov attempts to block the feint, and thus falls for Kitty's trap! Though their legs are packed very solid muscle and thus the blow does not have them reacting quite as strongly as most combatants might. While Kitty is up close, they punch to attempt to strike her core. One eyebrow arches up, a question on Kitty's face even as she hops back out of range of the punch -- was springing back already, not reacting to Marinov's blow but anticipating it. When she comes back into range, it's with a jump kick aimed at the side of Marinov's head. If it connects, it's immediately clear that Kitty is pulling that punch, at least -- it carries maybe half the power of her last kicks. "Pretty sure that's not how that works." Marinov instinctively ducks when the kick comes towards their head, their reflexes allowing them a bit more of a window to avoid the quick attack. "What are you--" Then snaps back up with an upwards swipe of their hand, with an attempt to knock Kitty off balance by attacking for her leg. "--some kind of scientist? I know how it works, I've seen TV." Kitty's jump, still in motion, gets disrupted by Marinov's attack. Kitty lands with her feet too far apart and slides, somewhat ridiculously, into the splits. "TV never -- oof -- lies, right?" She rolls over her left shoulder into a crouch quickly. " 'sides, might not be a scientist much longer, anyway." Marinov's puts their hands on their hips at this last revelation, their fighting stance dropping entirely. "Whaaat? What are you talking about, did you stop doing science?" Their tail twitches lightly as they watch Kitty in her crouched position, some part of them still wishing to engage. But not until this mystery is delved! "Is someone trying to fucking... take your science away? I bet we could kick their ass." "We probably could. But it's not that it's more like -- I don't know if I'm able to finish my science before I run out the clock. " Kitty stays low as she comes up out of the crouch -- all the better to try and tackle Marinov to the mat-covered floor. "Or if I want to, honestly." Marinov's eyes widen a bit as Kitty comes at them for a tackle, and they brace themselves to catch her and push back. "What-- does science expire?" They push back and try and counter-toss Kitty down. "But if you don't want to-- why don't you want to? I thought you had a big science brain?" "Grad school expires, anyway." Kitty gets her hands around and into a good grip on Marinov's shoulders -- when she's pushed, she's taking Marinov to the mat with her. "I'm just, freaking, tired. I thought I could do science and push the boundaries for mutants in science at the same time and I just. Can't." Kitty doesn't tired now, though, as she scrambles to get the upper hand. Her words come slower, with heavier breathing in between each thought. Marinov tumbles over as they are dragged down to the mat. And- though there are no claws involved, the distinctively feline kickkickkick of their feet seems more or less an instinctive reaction from getting knocked over. They also wrestle to gain the upper hand. "Is the science-- or is the bullshit-- tiring?" No clear opening from Kitty on the ground, either — she’s working to get her opponent into some sort of judo hold. Where she doesn’t have strength to match Marinov she has training on how to subdue opponents bigger than her on the ground that’s working to at least keep the grappling close. “If it was just one or the other?” She tries to get her elbow on top of Marinov’s chest. “That would be okay. It’s not though. It’s both.” In addition to strength, Marinov seems to have the ability to contort their body into what could only be described as improbable positions. They wriggle to escape from Kitty's grip and try to reverse positions. "Maybe you should teach-- hf-- whatever this bullshit that you're doing is instead!" There is a playful tone to their voice that suggests this expressed frustration is not an actual frustration. Kitty ends up on her back, pinned by Marinov’s forearm to the mat. Struggles for another moment before tapping on the mat with a free hand. “Haha.” She is smiling, though. “This? Is all textbook. I got way more bullshit where this came from.” When Kitty taps, Marinov lets go and hops back up to their feet. "I know you do! You're a renaissance woman, you got all kinds of hidden secrets." They chuckle softly, though their good humour gives way again to concern. "Though sounds like one of the secrets is, uh, that you don't like science I guess? What do you think you'd rather do?" “I do like science.” Kitty springs to her feet easily and brushes away a free (sweaty) curl. “I just…. need a break? Maybe? From being A Mutant In STEM.” The capital letters are not visible but audible in the way Kitty emphasizes each word. She puts her hands on her hips, ostensibly catching her breath as her gaze drops to the floor. “… I do like teaching, though. I don’t have time to teach Astronomy for Nonmajors and do everything else, but. I do like it.” "Mm, I mean, it'd be nice to take a break from being A Mutant in Anything," says Marinov. They bounce again lightly on their toes to loosen up any tension. "As much as Hank impressed that I should get a big science brain to be a good science mutant so people would like. Respect me? Or whatever. Hank shit... In a way I'm kind of glad that I'm pretty science dumb. Don't have to go through that STEM life bullshit." They scratch the side of their neck and look down to the mat. "How much time you got before you're expired?" “Hank,” Kitty declares, though the effect is undercut by the lack of wind in her sails, “doesn’t live in the same world as either of us. He’s a good teammate, but not so much with the advice.” Now she looks up, nose scrunched. “One more year before I’m on probation, a couple years more before they for sure toss me out. Might be sooner. Was supposed to be done this past spring.” "Did you know that Hank used to be my assigned mentor when I started there?" Marinov shakes their hands with widened eyes, as if that question is enough to impart their point. "How much of your thesis have you finished? I don't really know what goes into it, but you've seem pretty, like. Buckled down and shit." Kitty’s eyes widen. “Oh no that’s such a bad idea what were they thinking!” She shakes her head, her laugh soft and wry. A bit more spring in her tone when she answers: “Ugh there was a chapter that got sniped that I have to rework entirely now and there’s a huge hole in another’s data. Like 80 percent done I think but my supervisor seems to think it’s more like 50. And then I keep losing time to like. Meetings about ‘representing the department’ and ‘consultations about registration’ and whatever.” She sighs, deep and long. “It’s silly. This is objectively silly shit to be bothered by. But I’m still bothered anyway?” "What they were thinking is like. I got fur, he got fur, so we got the same personality," says Marinov. They roll their eyes. "I was relieved when I switched to Shane being my mentor. Better style, better teeth, better understanding." They shake their head, then scratch their chin thoughtfully. "What kind of consultations they doing about registration? I don't think it's silly shit to be bothered by. Maybe some of it is like. Silly shit to be happening!" "Forbidden MBTI personality type: fur." Kitty rolls her eyes, steps back to get her water bottle and takes a long, contemplative swig. "Bullshit consultations, mostly. It's all about making sure registration doesn't impact tuition income. 'How to support visiting students with registration' workshops. Looking for a rubber stamp from 'the community.'" On this set of air quotes Kitty leans the water bottle back to indicate herself. "I know its like... it could be worse, they're asking me because I'm bog-looking, but also, I can't actually do anything meaningful. I get to suggest 'more sensitive language.' " Her tone is increasingly irritated, her fingertips pressing hard on the surface of the water bottle. "Well, if you do end up quitting. You should go all fuckin'..." Marinov swipes their hand towards the ceiling, finger pointed skyward in a dramatic pose. "Orbital inclusivity megalaser justice cannon on their asses! If you're hopping the next train, leave nothing but devastation in your wake! Demand more tenured mutants! Pay student teachers more! Ignore registration status! Abolish capitalism! Grants for monsters! Fuck the cops! Eat the dean!" They lower their finger and points towards Kitty, their eyes bright, the twitch of their tail unmistakably playful. "Don't just burn the bridges, burn that motherfucking city down!" Another sip of water almost becomes a spit take, caught just in time. Kitty’s eyes go wide again at megalaser and by the end she’s laughing with abandon. “Eat the dean?” Everything else, evidently, is achievable. “I don’t know I think deans are not kosher probably.” She sets the water bottle down. “I’ll let you know if I need help taking down the ivory tower, you got great ideas. For now, though…” Kitty‘s smile grows wider as she assumes a defensive stance. “Let me get another crack at taking you down.”