2013.07.18 - Old Memories and a Workout

Standing in front of a room full of students Carter Hall looks over everyone whilst wearing a cut off black t-shirt, and black workout pants with a white streak that runs down the middle of the outer leg. His brown eyes take everyone's extended arm. "Make sure the first is tight, thumb is tucked in, your index and middle knuckles are the sweet spot. Looking down between them should be like looking down a gun." Obviously this isn't the usual class Carter teaches. Tonight's class is a self-defense course which is hard for him to classify beyond the generic title. Carter, as echoed in the brochure, brings Judo, Greco Roman Wrestling and Bare Knuckle brawling with a dash of Self-Defense into his course. He doesn't want to call it an MMA class because the intent is to educate people in case they got into a bad situation. 
Walking about he straightens an arm of one student, a young man that looks like an MMA fighter hoping to learn of a new take down or three, "You should know this," Carter says softly trying to leave out some disappointment. He tightens the elbow of another person, a woman in her forties with blonde wavy hair, in Dolly Parton like hairdo, that just wants to avoid a bad situation and hopes to defend herself if it ever happens. The man continues to look over everyone, "Looking good! Now three strikes followed by a knee like we practiced. On Three. One-Two-Three!" His eyes still taking in each movement of everyone in the class.
Somewhere toward the back of the room, a woman with unusually colored hair wearing a black and blue, form-fitting, 'racer' tank and black workout pants is standing bare-footed on the mat sprawled out beneath the various students' feet. Her normally wild, violet, mane is tied back into a neat ponytail that looks as though it were struggling to maintain its grip on the sheer volume of her hair. Her emerald green eyes are locked with the upturned knuckles of her extended punching arm, her ears are taking in the instructions she's being given with absolute focus. Thus far, even though she weren't familiar with any of the styles being taught here tonight, something about all of this resonated with her like a distant memory. Many of the more basic moves she'd been taught thus far seemed a tad... easy. But she wasn't about to vocalize that.
Why was she here? Truth be told, if her modeling manager knew she were sweating it out in a gym with a bunch of martial artists and banging her lovely body around - he'd probably have a cow. Yet, Elizabeth felt as if she could do more to prepare herself for her more 'clandestine' activities. And getting martial arts instruction was one way to do so.
Following his call for three strikes and a knee, she promptly pulls back her extended punching arm... letting the other move forward smoothly in time with his second count, and then retracting it to thrust her original arm forward with that same smooth motion. She then ends the combination by rocking back onto her left foot, bringing her right knee high just as she'd been taught.
It felt like an old, familiar, dance. Perhaps because she's been through choreographed dance before...? She idly wonders amidst the silence of waiting for his next instruction...
Seeing the people training he looks over the class then at the time. Time ticks away and Carter yells, "Pick it up people, let's take it home!" There's an exit drill and that's always the plan. Punches, kicks and knee strikes, all of it is routine and meant to ease people into combination. Looking over the people he sends out a loud congrats then points to a woman in the back, "You. Betsy, right?" Carter says loudly, "I need to talk to you." Something about her just feels off to him and so he's going to make sure she's okay. Pry a little but only if she's willing to talk. If she doesn't then that's fine too. He breathes out and waits for the room to clear. The mirrors show that they are the only two standing on the hardwood floor that could double as a dance studio, because it is a Dance studio that just allowed Carter and other classes to teach on days dancing wasn't happening.
"...?" Elizabeth's eyes track toward Instructor Carter as he calls her out after class is let out. A brow visibly quirks, but she does not wait too terribly long to break her stance and wander over, winding her way through the multitudes of students making their way out.
She quietly pads across the mat, wiping beads of sweat from her brow and blinking, as she makes her way toward him wordlessly. She ponders, did she do something wrong? Perhaps she didn't properly file her registration. She wasn't really accustomed to doing her own paperwork, really. "...Yes sir?", she replies very formally, tone quizzical. "Is something amiss?" This is said practically as her feet leave the gym mats and touch upon the cold, hardwood, floor for the first time in a while.
Seeing the quizzical look, "Are you okay? You look like you've got something on your mind," he pulls out some weight gloves from his pants. "You need to talk about it? By the way you look like you've had training before. Your body moves with too much intent. You sure you haven't studied something before?" the questions are friendly but there's something about how the woman will carry herself sometimes. Betsy had to have some type of prior instruction the bigger question is was said instruction for months or years. She's hard to peg and so questions need to be asked.
"I don't believe so.", she replies to his question about having trained before, "I don't recall ever having had martial instruction before..." She says this whilst placing her right hand firmly upon her hip, wiping sweat from her brow with the other. "...I do admit, this feels familiar. But I cannot peg why. I have had choreographed dancing instruction before, perhaps that is why?"
She casts a momentary glance at the weighted gloves he produces, before continuing, "But yes, I feel fine! Your instruction has been quite satisfactory. I probably do have a lot on my mind... well, I always do... but you see... I am a professional Model. Stress tends to come with the territory."
She shifts subtly, from one foot to the other, before placing her other hand on her hips too. "...That and... other things." Speaking of memories, there's definitely been a lot of incidents where people seemed to know her lately but she'd didn't know them. It did have her a bit concerned for her memory...
"Meditation," Carter says abruptly then further explains, "There's a lot of believers and thinkers out there that believe in past lives. Plato has the recognition theory where people could remember things in the current lifetime innately due to previous teachings in a past life. Perhaps this is what's happening, yes?" And if there is anyone on the plaent that believed in reincarnation it's Carter, a man that knows the phenomena is real. "Plus regular meditation will help you with your stress. It'll allow your mind to ease itself and find what it needs," the words come with the weight of experience. 
Then a friendly smile is tossed to the woman, "A good set of trusted ears also helps with the stress bit. An idea strikes Carter in the head and he looks down for a second. Eventually he breathes out after taking a second to gather himself, "I need to ask you of a favor. There's a friend of mine that's in a pinch and could actually be a model. Has a girl next door, southern belle type of charm. She's down on her luck lately," a blush runs through his face as he really didn't want to ask a student of a favor. "Her name is Rogue. I think it's a stage name of some sort, but she could use any help you could give her when it comes to modeling." Betsy probably got asked this question a bit and deep down he feels like an ass for even asking. "Sorry to ask when I'm offering an ear just if I forget I probably won't ask. And if you ever need an ear I've got two and both seem to work," again another friendly smile tugs at his lips despite the lingering red from the previous blush.
For the better part of his explanation, she says not a thing. She simply purses her lips, curiousity in her eyes, as she listens to what he says with an analytical ear. She wonders immediately: what brought this on...? Reincarnation? Perhaps he was a bit of a philosophy nut and this was something that stood out to him as a possible explanation. Despite her extensive experience with the weird and supernatural, Betsy did try to find more mundane explanations for things where she could. She admitted, however... she couldn't discount it...
The air conditioning comes on, overhead, with a hum about mid-conversation... and her eyes are drawn from him momentarily. A brief look of relief crosses her oft features, emerald green eyes dropping from the vent down to the mirror resting against a wall nearby. And she stares into it, momentarily, watching him as he looks down toward the floor through it. She studies him from that different perspective, momentarily... until... he mentions his 'friend'. This draws her eyes back upon him.
...
"It's quite alright, luv.", comes a smooth, low-toned, and friendly reply to his apology that follows. "A favor for a favor, it's proper." A warm smile touches her wine-colored lips, eyes warming a bit with it. It's somewhat genuine, yet there's an undeniably practiced manner to it all. "...Rogue? That sounds... familiar..." Her mind goes toward the X-Men's roster, and the names on the list momentarily. And her brow quirks, subtly, as she grasps the neck of her tank top and fans herself wth her shirt daintily. "Would she happen to be residing in the Westchester area? ... Regardless, I am sure I could afford to meet with your friend sometime."
"I'll take your offer to heart, also. I suppose considering I'll be taking these classes regularly we'll be seeing a lot more of one another."
"No clue," Carter hasn't heard too much nor dug too deeply on the Westchester area. "We met the other night. She's a lady with brown hair with bits of white in the front. Looks like she could model anything due to subtle curves, but her biceps tell anyone that she could knock you on your ass if you tested her." He even adds in the color of the woman's eyes and finishes by saying, "She has a southern drawl and tends to call people 'Sugar.' Has this southern girl next door charm," while the features do go on a bit Carter has no real interest in her beyond friendship. When he met Rogue she was down and her luck and so Carter vowed to help. Him giving Betsy the information on Rogue is his way of helping. Rogue did say she would, "Become a model," to make money and maybe Carter's student could help put the troubled southerner on that path. 
Feeling the cool breeze he gives the woman a smile, "Sorry to ask. You probably get asked for that along with pictures and autographs." A moment of silence stands between them before Carter shoos it away with another question, "How do you do it?" He cannot imagine the demands Betsy has due to being a model. The stardom, fans, hours working in front of a camera where dozens upon dozens of photos will be discarded in the favor of a mere fraction of good shots, all of it is a mystery to him. Deep down he pities her and is far from jealous of Betsy's life.
Betsy mulls quietly over the description she's given, filtering through her mental files for someone matching that description but coming up with nothing. Her eyes close, briefly, back straightening and chest thrust forward as the air conditioning blows cool air down upon them comfortingly. Her ears were still listening to him, of course, but now her tiredness and the heat were definitely fighting for her attention! She had a possibly starting place, but even that wasn't a certainty.
A soft sigh escapes her parting lips, and her eyes open again... training on him once more.
...Then she smiles, coyly, noting his attention to detail - the mention of curves is catching - and deciding to tease him about it, "Sounds as though you got a real good look at her, yes? She must be quite striking, to hear you tell it." There follows a bit more of a teasing grin that touches her soft features, before she adds, "...I think, perhaps, I should like to meet your friend again. Perhaps we can all arrange a meeting sometime." While Betsy was always one to help others, the possibility that she was another X-Men member made her more than a little curious.
To his question about how 'she does it', she replies also, "How do you bring yourself here to teach a class every time? How do you get out of bed every morning? ... It's the same for me. You get used to it, you adapt. You learn to cope with stress, to be friendly and smile even when you're not feeling it, you learn to schedule well and plan ahead... the better question for me is... how could I not? You know, I have entertained the idea of retiring some day. But... I do wonder how I would cope with having the time..."
Carter smirks at the student as she tries to imply things. "Being a Doctor by day makes me observant," Carter says with a friendly smile. His brown eyes trail up and down her body, "You have similar curves but know how to use them garner attention when you wish it. This probably helps the camera draw to your naturally via grabbing the attention of the camera man. Your eyes can be soft when they need to be yet turn as hard as stone at a moment's notice. Mix this with the aforementioned attitude and you're a determined woman. All of the assertiveness and dedication makes you a real attraction to men that love an aggressive woman. Plus you exude confidence with every word and step you take. Plus the hair is really eye catching and it's easy to be lured to your outer beauty before getting pummeled by your inner beauty," Carter says all of this with a smile and maybe a hint of a blush. To notice when a student is attractive is crossing a line, but in his defense, said student is a model. So it helps being easy on the eyes to notice so many details. 
"And I get out of bed each day, no matter how much my body screams, to make a difference hon. Those reasons are above any ache or pain I get," a soft smile pulls at his lips and he looks down. Offering a shrug, "People do crazy things for crazy reasons, maybe one day someone will just sweep you off your feet. Or some cause will pull you in a direction where modeling won't feel like a fit anymore after doing said thing. Who knows?" he shrugs to the woman. Models is a subject he's not very versed in so he could not talk about retiring angels to start families, like one recently did, or why people like Naomi Campbell went on to the talk show scene instead of continuing on a runway.
Her somewhat 'teasing' smile fades into somewhat easier, simply amicable, one and Betsy runs the fingers of her right hand idly through her violet mane as he talks about her features and his perception of her inner person. She thinks to herself, privately, about her previous meetings with Doug. Poor boy.
If only the instructor knew how right he /was/ about that aggressive bit!
"Learning to play the camera has less to do with actual appearances and more about people's perceptions. A lot of modeling is a tactical game, it's like martial arts... learning to manipulate others and exploit the openings they present is key." Then she pulls her fingers from her hair, gently, and lets her hand fall to her right hip once more, "Confidence comes with experience, as I am sure you well know. The more time you've spent practicing your art, the more at ease you feel with it and yourself."
She hardly seemed bothered by any amount of staring he may have done thus far, or any notice of her features, as he may well have noticed. But it came with the territory. "...As for what people do, I'm inclined to agree. It is quite amazing what a motivated person can and will do." She nods at that sentiment, acknowledging it. She knew quite a few such motivated persons, some of whom could move mountains with theirs almost literally.
Casting her emerald gaze about the room, and breaking her gaze from him briefly, Betsy takes in its emptiness before letting her eyes fall toward the empty locker room across the way, "...Well, it's getting rather quiet here. I don't suppose you'd like to accompany me, perhaps, to a nearby coffee house? I think I could use a pick-me-up."
Smiling at the comment he says simply, "And you said you've never studied the arts but you know about the exploitation tactics," he gives a nod taking in the rest of her statements about how to break the camera. He nods at the offer of coffee, "I'd like that but I didn't bring a change of clothes. Typical I go home, shower, read, do the typical night things," he confesses and feels a little embarassed. "Don't mind going out with a guy in workout gear that could use a shower?" If she wanted him to go home Carter would do that in a heartbeat. Typically he avoided social outings if he wasn't clean nor ready for them. However sometimes good company required one to forego their norms.
Betsy laughs, softly, shaking her head a bit. Truthfully, it probably wasn't 'becoming' of a model to be prancing about in public in gym clothes with the sweat of her workout upon her but, she asides, "...if you don't mind going out with a girl in her workout gear that could use a shower, yes." and then offers him another warm smile, "I do not suspect the others will mind! The stench of designer coffee is too thick.", before holding a finger aloft as if to punctuate her comment. And it really was sometimes!
"Alright, I'll go fetch my bags from the locker room. I guess we'll met out front, hm?"
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