2013-03-05 Some Tests

It's very early morning after the lovely events at the school, with the sun not quite up yet due to it still being winter and the days being a little shorter than they are in the warmer months of the year. Still, it isn't below freezing today, and if you're exercising, that meant you could keep fairly warm by moving a lot. Jocelyn is up early for her morning routine. She hadn't heard from Gloria about her resuming her runs yet due to her injuries, but that doesn't mean Jocelyn isn't up and doing her training. She's finished the first half of her run, and is currently going through a series of martial arts moves out near the lake. She's dressed in a t-shirt, black workout pants, and a pair of sneakers. A water bottle has been set on top of her light blue jacket, which is laying a few feet to her left.
She'd made her report to the rest of the team that was at the school last night, regardless of if Wolverine was there or not, and passed the information on that she'd gathered. Psionic energy of some type, though it was different somehow from what she was used to seeing, as she'd seen plenty of it since she'd joined the school a few weeks ago. She had some theories, but so far, she'd let the more experienced heads - which meant just about everyone - handle most of the theory work for the time being. However, she'd been running that night's events over in her head and trying to figure out what else might have been missed. So far, she hadn't come up with much.
As the pre-dawn light starts to brighten, or Jocelyn acclimates to her surroundings enough to pick out a sound subtly synchronized with the lapping of water against stone down by the lake, it might become apparent that she's not entirely alone in her early hour exercise. It's not unlike the morning she met him, if a bit earlier in the process: wearing simple workout clothes-- though Logan is barefoot-- and running through a series of kata with an old, yet exceedingly sharp katana, polished to a mirror finish that reflects light even in the subtly illuminated silver-grey of the cloud covered not-yet-morning.
Each motion of the blade ebbs and flows with the current of the nearby water, the subtle chill of the wind. Jocelyn is probably noticed well before she's aware of him, but Wolverine only really tracks her on the periphery of his senses until he's finished, the sword sliding away not long after she starts her routine nearby. Then there's the distinct sound and motion of a cracking neck, if one's paying close attention.
Well, Jocelyn isn't completely immune to cold. She still feels it, so she at least has some reasonable amount of clothing. Jocelyn has noticed the man with the blade working out in the nearby, though not as quickly as Logan noticed her. She's not sure if she was there first, or if he was there first, but she does notice him. However, the sliding of the katana and the cracking of the neck indicate that he was perhaps there first. She continues making her motions, and her natural movement does slowly bring her down towards the lake, though not all the way. Her movements don't have the precision of any specific kata, but there is some sort of flow to them, known really only to her.
She finishes up a series of strikes at the air and bends over to take a couple breaths. She looks up and gives a nod to Wolverine. She doesn't seem quite as nervous or twitchy around him as she was the first time she met him, though that was under a less ideal set of circumstances. "Morning," she comments loudly enough to be heard.
"Kid." It's like the timing comes together with the workout perfectly, like he's finishing up just about the time she breaks, notices, and speaks a greeting. In truth it's more like how a dog can learn exactly how much light humans need to see; and when they can't pick out a tree branch in front of their faces. It's not Wolverine's first rodeo, and he's been working out behind this school, in these woods, at this lake.. for awhile now. Longer than he can remember being most anywhere else.
The sword is tucked into a sash belt around his waist, and Logan wanders a few steps back towards the Institute, and Jocelyn. "Improv shadow boxing?" It's one version of small talk-- at least in his world. A nod is given to the girl herself, indicating her style. The preceding strikes. "Where'd you learn?" Still several yards clear, the voice is quiet but projected. Punctuated, now, by the pause to light a cheap little cigar from a rumpled pack.
"Yeah. I usually mix it in somewhere in my morning workout," Jocelyn responds to Logan as he approaches. "I learned on the streets at first," Jocelyn says to the man, stretching her arms up before lowering them again. "I was training to go professional in Detroit before my mutation showed itself," Jocelyn explains. Which might actually explain the mix of styles she had going on in her training routine. "I don't think it'd work so well in sport if most people couldn't actually hurt me. Seems kind of unsportsman like". Jocelyn shrugs a little bit at that. Logan might have seen her running in previous days, if he usually works out back here, or smelled her, given his abilities.
"How about you?" Jocelyn asks. She hadn't done much with a weapon herself, so she was a little curious about where Wolverine picked up his style. Then again, there were a number of people here who seemed to favor weapons over fists, Jocelyn had noticed. So maybe it wasn't that odd.
"Good way to make some scratch if you're in a jam." It's the only rebuttal Wolverine really offers to the idea of bowing out of sport. It's saved his ass a few times. The Canuck takes a long drag from that aromatic smoke, and blows it off into the brightening sky. "But Detroit, huh. Then you probably know that." The comments seem rhetorical as much as anything, or perhaps somewhat unconcerned either way. "MMA circuit." That, too? Conclusion as much as question.
As far as his own style and training? "I've picked up a few things here an' there." Logan can't quite stifle the creeping, wry grin at the comment; or he doesn't try. "Mostly bein' in scrapes. Go ahead girl, show me what you've got. Slug me a good one, best you can land." Logan crunches the cigar out under a bare foot, unflinching, and slides into a sidelong stance in the cold grass.
"Yeah, it is. Few different ways," Jocelyn tells Logan. She grew up in Detroit. There are lots of ways to earn money with fighting skills in that city. "Yeah, that or whatever they decide to end up calling it and who owns it. Things are all up in the air with it right now". New sport, relatively speaking, so ownership and rules were all subject to change.
At Wolverine's suggestion, Jocelyn doesn't hestitate, slipping into her own sidelong stance. She knew the guy had a pretty good constitution. She lashes out with powerful side kick, driving forward with the strike even as she connects (assuming she does). The impact is rather good, for an unpowered strike, certainly on par with a professional fighter's strike. Of course, she hasn't augmented her strength, so it's not at any superhuman levels of force yet.
"I assume you meant without using my powers to augment it," Jocelyn says as she finishes the movement, naturally slipping into a defensive stance out of instinct rather fear. It's what you do when practicing.
Rather than allowing the blow to fall clean, Wolverine steps into it with a quick twist, reversing an elbow and forearm to drop into the impact, subtly testing it even as he prevents the strike from reaching its full momentum. ... and provides a surprisingly sturdy barricade, if it had. It's one of those things that just never stopped surprising people back in his pit fighting days; hell, even now. Hitting Logan isn't particularly pleasant. His bones don't break, his form doesn't buckle. Some days, the fates of kung-fu pay out to the Mountain.
The Canucklehead shoves back against the guard, roughly, as if intent on flipping Jocelyn out of the kick and back to the hard ground. "Gonna be here all day like that. If I were comin' to kill ya, how much you got then?" Knuckles crack as a fist is flexed in the palm of the opposite hand, and Wolverine steps back and resets a different stance, deeper, more braced.
Pulling in the energy from the movements and the general airflow around them, Jocelyn brings herself up to 'full strength', as she terms it. "Full force? Okay". Jocelyn's moves clearly speed up; most people without some sort of supernatural perception would hardly perceive when she starts the strike and when the movement finishes. This time it's a roundhouse strike followed by a sidekick, both moves coming lightning fast. The impact, if Wolverine lets it hit, will have much more force behind it, given both the enhanced speed of the strike and the raw strength behind it. If she manages to hit the man, she'll add in an 'extra' kinetic blast from her foot in an attempt to knock the man over with the blast of pure force.
Hey, he did tell her to treat it as if he was trying to kill her.
Many mutants make use of the morning hours for exercise, and Shift was no exception. His usual morning routine involved a half loaf of bread and raw eggs, an hour of ferocious embattlement with a boxing sack, and a number of full runs around Breakstone Lake.
Not only does he do this routine to keep up his strength and endurance... he does it because he's an ex-addict. He's found it to be the best way to fight off the old urges, and after a week of being bed-ridden, such workouts were of critical importance.
As he comes around the lake, his skin is beaded with cooling sweat, and hot breaths pipe from his nostrils with every thrust of his lungs. He can see the others in the shrinking distance along his running path, and decidedly begins to slow his running to a jog, so as to cool down in case he decides to stop.
Logan may not be able to see it, but he can sense it. The shift in the air, the gathering static, the stance of a person getting into the zone to strike. It's something he had to learn early, or even with his own exceptional gifts... the feral runt wouldn't be alive today. One hairy mat of a forearm reflexively guards his face and neck as Logan weaves under the stroke like the mountain dissolved to water, low to the ground with an easy, predatory grace. In fairness, he did start -off- pretty short-- and Jocelyn is anything but short.
Wolverine's own motion isn't launched as incredibly swiftly, perhaps, but there's a reflexive ease to it that speaks of years of honed instinct-- in his case, maybe something a bit deeper, even. Experienced martial artists recognize it, sooner or later, as one of those signs of a practitioner who's body and soul devoted to their personal style.. and mastering it. It's why he claims to be the best, it's why Logan's actually paying some lick of attention to the decapitating stroke that barely misses his cranium as he slips below and sidesteps. It's why he has some idea what to expect when the thrust kick follows, crushing into his chest and sending him hurtling through the air, backwards, in a short arc.
Logan's arms and legs pump after a moment of stunned ascent, landing in scrambling crouch and digging a lengthy set of small ruts in the dirt back towards the rocky outcropping near the lake where he had been practicing. There's a bloody splotch on the front of Wolverine's grey tanktop as he rises, but from the way he moves... he's scarcely injured. That happens quick. "Not bad." He grunts, with pain clear in the tense words, for just the moment.
"Not bad at all. You're hitting the Room tomorrow, ain't ya girl?" He doesn't try to make it sound as ominous, this time.
Jocelyn has noticed the other person coming, picking up on the energy pattern as she struck Logan. It was what years of living on the streets did. However, she wasn't that concerned, as they were still a ways off and she was still sparring Logan, at least when she first notes the person coming. She can't make out who it is. Jocelyn does, however, notice that Logan's moves are rather well-practiced. She doesn't claim to be the best, but she hadn't sparred many she would actually consider significantly above her yet at the manor.
"Thanks," Jocelyn says, not seeming that surprised that Wolverine heals that quickly, though she does note the amount of damage done. It was good to have some idea just how much force a full on strike does for her, as she didn't get to practice it on a person very often, for obvious reasons. "The Danger Room? Yeah. I've got my first time there tomorrow," Jocelyn responds. She hadn't known officially about the X-Men until the latest mission, so she didn't get to partake of the Danger Room until now. "You heal quickly. That's part of your power. Haven't seen anybody recover that quickly before," Jocelyn states, also not making it a question. No sense in stating the obvious. "I should ask my roommate if she can do that, actually. She has the claws I've seen you uses before, except for having them come out of her feet, too."
Hit like that probably could have left a mark in the breakstones of the lake's namesake, not to mention what happens to flesh and bone; but not adamantium. With that stuff bonded to his skeleton, Wolverine's ribcage may be intact, but at the point of explosive impact? Well. That shit leaves a mark. The clawed mutant brushes down the front of his shirt with one broad hand, "Yup."
He agrees simply with her first assessments, the latter set, once Jocelyn starts in about Laura, drawing a frown to Wolverine's features, taking a moment to stalk to one side a step-- ostensibly to look over at the jogging Shift, not that there's any chance he missed the other X-Man until now, really. The words come out gruff, clearly angry.. though perhaps not at Jocelyn herself. "Yea." At first it's an irritated echo, then he graciously extrapolates a little bit. "Fuckers were gettin' creative, with her. Thinking outside the sick bastard box." He spits to the side, and fishes out another smoke, and then his zippo.
"Someone put the claws in her? Who would do something like that?" Jocelyn glances at Wolverine, tilting her head slightly, obviously asking the same question of Wolverine with that statement. "What are those claws made out of? That's not normal metal you find in the home improvement store or the steel mill." Her mind is starting to churn a little bit about how something like that could happen, and given what she just witnessed, she might have some idea.
There's a pause as she thinks it through. A few more things made sense now, though she's still sorting it all together. She doesn't voice those thoughts yet, however. That would be rambling and musing without giving Wolverine a chance to respond, and she's not one for flying off the handle with random speculations like someone abusing rapid fire.
Slowing as he draws near, Shift grabs a towel from where it is tucked into the waistband of his jogging pants, and begins wiping down his face before draping it over his neck. He comes to a slightly hopping stop, for his legs still need some time to cool down, then eyeballs Wolverine and Jocelyn speculatively, while a glimmer of mirth flickers into his mis-matched eyes. "You two moonlighting on charcoal construct monstah's?" he asks.
"Use yer imagination." Wolverine retorts, snapping tersely. "Some things folk should be glad they don't know." It's more sympathetic, if slightly. Not that it even begins to answer either question. The diminutive Canuck grits his teeth tightly several times as Shift approaches, before relaxing-- again, very slightly. "The sketch monsters are the work of a few bitter kids, we gotta deal with it so it's not a bigger mess. Somebody needs to take it straight to Chuck."
There's a pause, then repressed anger shifts to resigned displeasure for the moment on Logan's stern mug as he realizes that probably falls to him, in this instance. Seniority sucks-- it's one good mark for wandering.
Jocelyn doesn't take the retort personally. Instead, she chooses to drop the subject and not actually make Wolverine upset at her rather than at the subject matter. "I got a look at the kids, but yeah. They've got some sort of axe to grind, either with the school or with that guy who was hitting on me at the poker table," Jocelyn comments. "That was some sort of psionic energy they were using. It was different somehow though. I couldn't quite put a name to whatever else was tied to it, but it's not like the other types I've seen". Jocelyn glances at the two. "I've got a feeling if someone kept an eye on that guy, we might be able to anticipate the next attack," the girl adds.
That was the one good thing about being young. Certain tasks generally didn't fall to her, like taking an issue to Mr. Xavier. Not that she'd be too worried approaching him, but still...he was the boss. There was a certain level of not wanting to do that which was natural.
"Kids," echoes Shift with a somewhat familiar scowl. What he'd give to have a cigarette now, even though it's never the best idea after a jog.
Not that he hasn't done that before.
"I am having some few lab tests done on de graphite samples. Just in case. It's regrettabahl dat de papah was destroyed, but at least we know it is directly linked to what was powering dem." Of course, when Logan brings up reporting this to the Professor, Shift's eyebrow arches dubiously.
Yep. Won't be Kwabena's problem.
"Psionic energy," he muses, distastefully. He liked things that couldn't hurt him, like regular weapons and bullets. Psionic energy, and energy weapons of any type? Not a good time for Shift.
"I see you have signed up for my survival class," he offers to Jocelyn, studying her carefully for a moment. "You think you ah ready?"
"Rather catch up to 'em before they hurt someone." If that proves possible. Otherwise? Well, it changes the equation a fair bit, for Logan. He's seen what a world looks like where no one draws any lines. Too many damn times. "But we should put someone on the dumb kid, yea." Wolverine? All about giving people the benefit of the doubt. Sort of. There's a nod to Shift, pensive, but fading quickly into a smirk as the Ghanian goes on.
"Guess you're both gonna find out, eh? I'm gonna run before it gets later, catch you soon." And because he's not -immune- to the cold, just conditioned (and conditioning) to focus through that discomfort; as his healing factor takes care of the rest. The catch-all farewell comes as Wolverine accelerates quickly towards the woods. Sure, lots of the students and staff favor an early jog. Most don't do it through the half-lit, denser sections of the estate's tree cover. Call him eccentric, he's heard worse before.
"Agreed," Jocelyn comments to Wolverine with regards to catching them first. "See you later, Mr. Logan," Jocelyn says to the man as he leaves. She turns to Shift and nods. "Yeah, I think I'm ready, or at least need to be ready, and there's no time like the present to learn. There have been times I could have used that information and training already," the girl comments to Kwabena.
Now, if there was only some way to easily track those kids. Sadly, Jocelyn has no real way to track them. Except...the girl has one of those ah-ha moments.
"Kwabena. Think we can get our hands on a yearbook?" Sometimes the best solutions are the easiest ones. Names and faces tended to show up in the yearbook. And she saw some faces.
With his eyebrow still half cocked at the talk of troublesome kids and potential metahuman antics, Shift just stands there and listens, his expression pensive at best. "Take it easy, boss," he reports to Wolverine, before turning his attention upon the X-Student.
"Read up on my study guide beforehand if you have a chance. No cheats, but some few general ideas dat will make your passing grade easier to come by."
Jocelyn's sudden idea draws a look of momentary surprise. "A yearbook? Dat should not be hard," he answers. "But what do you plan to do once you -have- de yearbook?" he asks, curiously.
"I saw their faces. They were clearly students. I might be able to match a name to a face. We have a name and a face, well, those with computer skills can probably give us all sorts of information. Like where they live, hobbies, things like that," Jocelyn explains, letting the topic of the survival class drop for now. "They might even be in some sort of after-school club together, which would make pinning them down a lot easier, since we could find out when the club meets". She thought it was a reasonable idea, and certainly better than blindly guessing at who these people were. "Might even give us some information about them personally that we can use to settle this mess".
Steadily, a smile grows on Shift's face. "You sure you weren't a junior detective back in Rock City?" he inquires. "Should not be too difficult. But if you expect me to acquire yearbooks, don't expect me to do anything legal."
Smirk.
"Well, doing it legally would probably be pretty easy, but not nearly so interesting, now would it?" Jocelyn comments to Shift. "And no, not a junior detective. Just using a little bit of common sense from being a student," the teenager points out with a grin. "Let me know when you have a copy, and we can try and pin some names to faces. Then someone can go have a 'chat' with them," Jocelyn suggests. "Maybe we can avoid anyone else getting hurt over this business," she adds.
The girl stretches a little bit. "So, what brings you out here? I've never seen you running this early," Jocelyn points out. "Seems like this place is split in half. Those who get up before the sun and those you have to drag out of bed".
That smirk broadens into a full grin. "Well, don't worry. Nobody is going to get hurt over de mattah, as far as I'm concerned. I'll have a yearbook for you by tomorrow."
He reaches to brush the towel across his face again, perhaps wishing to hide the facts from his expression. Not only was he a recovering addict, but one with the weight of a great many tragedies on his shoulders. Not the least of which was knowing that, while Jocelyn and Vic performed admirably, they were still young.
"It gets my mind off things," he answers earnestly. "Helps me to centah myself. My abilities rely on emotional states. I have taken up meditation and morning exercise to mediate it."
"That's a good question." Kwabena's eyes seem to brighten when she speaks of reports. Seems the teenager was getting the idea, quickly. "Any time dere is a noteworthy development such as dis, a report should be filed. I am, in fact, planning on creating one today. Howevah, if you feel so inclined, it would reflect quite well on your development as a student and junior team membah."
The chill of the wind is starting to get to him. Soon, he will have to resume his morning run, or else his muscles will be cramping for the rest of the day, to say the least. However, he can spare a few more minutes.
"You did well, Jocelyn. You and Vic both. It would be a lie of I told you I didn't suspect something might happen, for I've been tracking one of de students evah since de last attack on de Sundollah Cafe." He draws in a deep and steadying breath at such a revelation - it proved that he willingly invited them into a potentially dangerous situation.
A test of their abilities.
"You both undahstand de idea of teamwork, which is critically important. Howevah, I am concerned with how much de oddah's, such as Eddie, know about us." He pauses, perhaps for weight. "About de X-Men."
Savvy enough to clue into the fact that perhaps Shift had brought them in deliberately, Jocelyn nods as she listens to Kwabena explain how things work. "It might be a good idea, yes, though I have to admit I have no idea how to file one, or how it should look. Would you be willing to show me with this one, and then I will have an idea for the next time something happens as to how to do it?" Jocelyn asks. She wasn't opposed to doing it herself, but she knew these things have formats and rules and all that other stuff. "I can, of course, contribute what I've found to the report," she adds.
"Thank you," she adds. The girl is savvy enough to realize that he's giving her praise and had put them into a possible dangerous situation. "The guy who was flirting with me at the poker table, I'm guessing. The ninjas came right after him". She suspects he might be a target.
She frowns at the mention of Eddie. "I can honestly say I don't know how he knew about the X-Men. Vic, if I remember right, didn't outright tell him. It seems like he's pieced it together from bits and pieces here and there. Seems like Wolverine has already had words with him though, from what Eddie said. However, I don't know if Eddie has told any of the Young Allies, I believe they're called".
With a quick nod of his head, Kwabena says, "Come to my office after your morning classes, I will show you how its done." Then, he shifts to the side, studying Jocelyn with an approving look when she deduces just who he had been tracking. "That's the kid," he acknowledges. "Same one who was attacked at de Sundollah Cafe. Thank goodness for twittah, de kid posts a hundred times a day."
Talk of Eddie and the Young Allies, however? Once again, that seems to set Kwabena just slightly on edge. He looks off in the direction where Wolverine disappeared to, but thinks better of continuing his run through the forest. "Well den. I'll have to pin Logan down. But not until aftah I showah. We can only have one smelly mutant around de halls today." He retrieves the towel and once again tucks it into his waistband, then looks back to Jocelyn in order to give her a thumbs up. "Keep up de excellent work, and I will see you in survival class."
"I will see you after morning classes then, Kwabena," Jocelyn says to the man. For some reason, she never calls him by his last name, unlike all of the other professors. "One of my friends keeps bugging me to get a Twitter account. I don't see the need for it yet". Oh, Courtney. But that's a discussion for a different day. "Yeah, I should take care of some things. I'll see you later".
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