2 Mel 2 Furious

## **September 24th, 2020 - After School**

As a whistle blows inside the Big High gym, Melody sprawls out on a bench with a towel draped over her head.

“Get up Goldman, we’re doing more setting drills! Your hands suck!”

“No they don’t!” Melody huffs before raising her eyes and grinning. “Okay, fine, room for improvement. But yours suck even worse than mine, Gina.”

“What?!” Gina Fernandez stomps towards the bench. “You just can’t handle that I’m better than y--”

“Ahem.” At the far end of court, Mattie clears her throat. The other girls instinctively quiet themselves and avert their eyes from meeting her death glare.

“Okay, just need to text a friend. Gimme a couple minutes.” Melody opens her phone, scrolling past the background photo of herself and Aman cuddled against each other with the brilliant neon lights of what appears to be a futuristic skatepark in the background. Pulling up her texts, she scrolls past an old message to send a new one:

Mel is curled up on his bed, tucked into the corner, scribbling in a notebook when his phone buzzes. He doesn't notice at first, too busy frowning at his notes and chewing on the end of his pen, until Wingnut hops over from her perch on his desk and pecks him.

"Ow! Rude," he mutters, looking up. "What was that for? I'm not ignoring you, it's only been--" he glances at his phone. "... Um. Nevermind."

He tosses the notebook down beside him and uncurls, stretching. Wingnut pecks him again. "*Hey*! I'm getting--oh, I see." He scoops up his phone, finally registering the text from *The Cooler Daniel*.

"Oh, shit," he says, tilting his phone to show Wingnut, who hops up onto his knee to look. "Melody wants to teach me not to die. That's awesome!" He quickly types out a response.

Melody grins at her phone before hearing the loud *snap* of a hand spiking a volleyball. She reflexively blocks her head, the ball bouncing off her forearm as she raises her eyes to the court.

“Whoops,” Gina smirks at her. “Got away from me. *Sorry,* Goldman.”

“No prob,” Melody looks back down at her phone, “but man, your setting really sucks if it sounds like that.”

“Ugh!” Gina groans at her. “Obviously I wasn’t trying to set it! I was--”

“You weren’t trying to set the ball at our setting practice, Gina?” A frigid voice behind her inquires.

“Mattie! I was, just, uh-- setting in the wrong direction. Ma’am.”

“I saw that much.” Mattie gives her a weak smile, her eyes narrowed. “Get back in position. Melody, get off your phone unless you want to get around the gym a few dozen times.”

“Yep, gotcha boss.” Melody taps an arrow on her phone and runs over to the court.

Mel sends Melody several thumbs up emojis and a picture of Wingnut, then closes his phone and scritches Wingnut under her beak. "Well, that was ominous," he says cheerfully. "Get ready to get our collective ass kicked, pal. Y'know. For our own good."

## Later That Day...

Mel sticks his head into the danger room to check for Melody before pushing the door open and walking in all the way. Following instructions, he's dressed in basketball shorts and a loose, grease-spattered t-shirt. Wingnut is perched on his shoulder. His hair has been cut sometime recently, and is now a much more symmetrical shaggy mop. "Hey, Melody," he says brightly. Wingnut flies over to her shoulder and starts preening her hair.

“‘Sup, dude!” Melody chirps back from the floor as she stretches a calf. She giggles as Wingnut lands on her shoulder. “Hiiiii Wingnut. Thanks for hair care, you sweet terrifying baby.” Melody beams as she gently pets the back of Wingnut’s neck before looking towards the door of the danger room and doing a double take.

“Whoa!” she shouts a little too loudly, but Wingnut doesn’t seem to mind. “Nice haircut Bolt! Looking a lot more, like… aerodynamic? It’s a good look for you, dude.” Melody briefly pauses in thought. “Also not Bolt anymore, right? Signal now? Do I just start calling you Mel? Melchior seems too formal.” She leans her head against the robotic bird on her shoulder and continues in a softer voice. “Doesn’t it, Wingnut?”

Mel jumps at the sudden shouting and runs a hand through his hair self-consciously. "Heh, thanks, yeah, it was… getting a little out of hand. Plus, Smoke and I are working on this suit and it has a helmet, and boy is *that* easier with less hair." He laughs. "Anyways, *please* don't call me Melchior. The only people that call me that are, like, my evil dads." He pauses. "Well, and Ellen, but like. She's *Ellen*." He waves a hand, like that's all the explanation required. "Just Mel is fine."

Wingnut rubs her beak against Melody's cheek, servos whirring in approval, then takes off again to return to Mel's shoulder. He looks around the danger room, rocking onto his heels and back and swinging his arms. "So, uh… how does this work? Do you just start taking swings at me, or what?"

Melody grins after letting out a big laugh. “Nah. I mean… that was my first day when The Jackal started training me...” She stares off silently into the distance for a few long moments before shaking her head and turning back to Mel. “And I’ve been on enough missions or whatever with you to know that you can take a fuckin’ hit, man. So don’t need to test that.”

“But, like…” Melody scratches the back of her head as she looks between Mel and Wingnut. “Haven’t been on a mission together since you figured out the cool, like... robot stuff about yourself? Like you and Shade were showing me. I mean, the wings looked sick.”

“So, uh, first things first. Bring out your wingy-things,” she continues as she gracefully jumps to her feet and rolls her neck. “Getting power on your strikes, keeping a good defensive stance, footwork… all of the stuff you need for fighting comes from a solid foundation. And if you can’t keep your balance with your wings out, nothing I teach you is gonna be helpful. So let’s start with that.”

Mel perks up. "Oh! I have good news about that, actually." Wingnut alights from his shoulder and perches on the floor as Mel concentrates for a second and the large bladed wings unfold from his shoulders. He stumbles a little bit as his center of gravity shifts, but settles quickly into a natural position. "So, I've been getting better at using them, like, under pressure, y'know," he chatters as he slowly starts extending and twisting the wings. "It's actually easier when I'm not thinking about it? But then earlier this week, I was on this mission with Hana and Tiago, right--um, it was a *whole* thing--and at one point I needed them to save my dad, and… I dunno, it was like something clicked."

He flexes one wing and curves it slightly around his body. The movement is smooth and fluid, very unlike the jerky, awkward motion of even a week ago. He runs a hand lightly down the edge, avoiding the blade. "Like, I kinda *get* them now, I guess? I dunno if that makes any sense."

Mel relaxes the wing and grins at Melody. "It's not perfect, obviously, but I can walk now and everything. And they do what I want them to! Y'know, generally. So they *probably* won't knock me over."

“Holy crap, dude!” Melody watches Mel’s wings reflecting the dull overhead light of the danger room as he moves them around. “BIG fuckin’ improvement from a couple weeks ago! Jeez that was fast.”

After walking a circle around Mel and sizing him up, Melody stops in front of him and slightly raises her head to meet his eyes. “God,” she groans, “you and Ernest being that tall and *not* playing volleyball with me is a crime. Anyway... it’s good you can balance with those things out now? Cause that would have made everything way harder. But for like, what I should show you today…” Melody’s face curls into a wicked grin. “Yeah, maybe I will just start taking swings at you. But I’m nice, so I’ll teach you how to block first.”

“First things first…” Melody puts her hands on Mel’s shoulders and steps close to him. She gives him a smile before placing her foot against the inside of his and pushing his legs out into a very wide stance. Shoving his shoulders downwards, Melody steps back and nods. “This is called, like… horse stance. Your legs are probably gonna feel bad if you don’t practice squatting a lot. So start doing that. And uh… sorry to hear about, like… saving your dad? Is that one of the evil ones you mentioned earlier? Not to like, pry or whatever.”

Melody looks away awkwardly before reaching out to push Mel’s shoulder and test his balance.

Mel groans. "Homework? *Exercise* homework? Ugh, maybe I should just keep sucking at fighting. This might not be worth it." He grins impishly at Melody, then yelps as she pushes him. One wing flares out and flaps as he quickly recovers his balance. He looks proud of himself.

His smile fades and he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as he thinks about his… dad situation. "Yeah, uh, he's… well, okay, *of* the evil dads, I think he's the least evil? Or at least, he's the one who is not actively a supervillain. So, like, at least there's that. Maybe it's not *really* fair to lump him in with the *evil* evil dads, but I'm still mad at him for lying to me for my whole life and also he was working on the FutureSite+, so…" He trails off and shrugs, then gives her a sheepish smile. "Sorry, things are a little weird for me right now. If that wasn't obvious. I'm mostly just hoping there aren't *more* supervillains who signed on to the build-a-better-boy project that I just haven't heard about yet."

Melody softly smiles back. “No prob. I *did* get the sense that things have been, uh…” she vaguely gestures towards his metallic wings, “‘weird’ lately, ya. Don’t have to tell me the whole story or whatever if you don’t wanna. But like, if you *do* ever wanna talk about it more or vent about shit? Just hit me up anytime, dude.” She pats one of Mel’s shoulders before gently squeezing it, then smirks at him. “Just send a Wingnut picture first and you can vent whenever, we’ll be square.”

Mel laughs. "Thanks, Melody. It's a long and frustrating story without a real conclusion, but I don't mind telling it. You know, when we're not in the middle of something."

“Yeah yeah. Sounds like a ‘while eating lunch’ or ‘while hitting a punching bag’ sorta story. But definitely wanna hear it sometime.” Melody grabs both of Mel’s forearms and positions them into a guard. “And if there *are* more supervillains who were part of that project thing, we’ll just make sure you’re even better at punching them next time.”

“That being said…” she takes a few steps away from Mel as her tone shifts from her regular warmth to something more frigid. “This shit takes time to learn, and it’s not going to be useful to you in a real fight until it’s muscle memory. Until you don’t think about it at all. And that only comes with practice and putting in the reps.”

The pleasant temperature of the danger room seems to grow uncharacteristically cold as Melody takes a defensive stance. “I’ll show you how I block first, then I’ll teach you how to do it. Attack when you’re ready.”

Mel holds his forearms where she put them as Melody backs up. His smile fades into a more serious expression and he shifts his weight uneasily as the temperature seems to drop and the hair on the back of his neck starts to stand up. "All right, just… attack, I guess," he mumbles, mostly to himself. His wings flare out and angle down as he gathers himself, then he launches himself headlong at Melody. There's no technique or apparent plan of attack besides just ramming her, just bullheaded momentum.

Melody stays rooted in a deep, open stance as Mel haphazardly barrels across the danger room towards her. *Did I look like that when I started...? That feels so long ago. Have I really been training with The Jackal for three years now…?* Her eyes, rarely this intense outside of combat, continually reassess her opponent for openings as he nears. *Aww, he’s keeping his hands up. Good job dude. I messed that up for a while.*

A split second before Mel would crash into her, Melody’s feet carry her body into a closed stance with a much smaller profile. As Mel attempts to readjust his course at the last moment, Melody shuffles to the side of the bull-rushing boy and swings an elbow into his back, following the course of his trajectory. The force of the strike and his own momentum cause Mel to go spiraling towards the floor at high speed.

Mel yelps as the elbow hits his back and twists frantically to land on his shoulder instead of his hand. One wing curls around to break his fall and he goes tumbling several feet before springing back to standing with a grin on his face. He belatedly whips his arms back up into approximately where Melody put them.

"Damn, Melody!" he exclaims cheerfully. "That was cool! You're fast as hell, dude!"

The intensity on Melody’s face washes away as she beams back at Mel. “Thanks, dude. Nice reaction to the fall! Using your wing to absorb the impact was, like, hella smart. And good job keeping your hands up. A shitload of people forget to do that when they’re scared or tired or have their bell rung or whatever, and it makes it *so* easy to punch them in the face.”

"Thanks!" Mel beams back at her. His smile dims into a more thoughtful expression as he curves one wing back around in front of him and considers it. "As much as I'd like to take credit, though, I don't think that was totally me? The wing thing, I mean. Sometimes they… do stuff on their own. And it's usually like, helpful stuff! But not stuff I tell them to do. Or like, sometimes it's like… I want to do something, and they fill in the specifics on their own? If that makes sense?" He rubs the back of his neck, smiling awkwardly. His wing folds back behind him.

“Weirdly enough? *Totally* makes sense to me.” Melody nods sagely. “My shadow chains are pretty much the same? I mean, not robot-y, but… just kinda do what they want sometimes. And it’s usually helpful! Usually…” She shudders as she recalls the times her chains have tried to ‘help’ by hurting everyone nearby who might be a threat, friends included.

“Anyway… balance isn’t just about not falling over,” Melody breaks the silence with a smile, clearly excited as she begins to explain. “It’s also about controlling yourself during an attack. If you commit to an attack that hard… y’know, just running in, flying kick, whatever, you gotta set it up first. Otherwise-- well, if your opponent knows what they’re doing, anyway-- you’re really putting yourself in danger.”

She shifts her deep stance to an upright one with a high and low guard, much closer to Aman’s style than her own, as she approaches Mel. “So, like… blocking. I probably woulda told you not to do this before… y’know... robot stuff?” she shrugs at Mel, hoping ‘robot stuff’ isn’t too brief a description of what he’d been through in recent months. “Cause slipping a punch is a lot safer than blocking if you’re against someone with super strength. But if you can use your wings to help, I bet you can do an aggressive block even against someone pretty strong now. And that’s gonna let you create that setup to get a *solid* fuckin’ hit in” Melody punches the air for emphasis and grins. “Sound good?”

Mel mirrors her, bringing his arms back up. His wings mantle behind him, flaring out and curving slightly around his shoulders. "Okay, so… use them as a shield? That's--I can do that. I've done that before. Not, y'know, against someone with *super strength* but like, in general… yeah. Sounds good. Let's do it."

“Not really a shield,” Melody corrects him as she moves into striking distance. “I mean, if you don’t have another option? Hell yeah, shield. But there’s something even better you can be doing.”

In a lightning-fast motion, she swings her forearm outward in a small arc. “This is called a windmill block, but think of it more like a ‘parry’ than a block. You aren’t letting something smash into you, you’re using your block to knock the attack off course. And when an attack gets off course… that gets your opponent off balance. And when they’re off balance…” Melody’s arm and hips snap into a straight punch that stops millimeters from Mel’s face. *“That’s* when you get them.”

“Alright Mel, let’s see it. Try to use your wing to help if you can.” Resetting her stance, Melody draws back her hand and telegraphs a punch at Mel’s upper body.

Mel blinks at the stopped punch, his eyes going slightly cross-eyed as he tries to keep focus on her fist. His wings twitch forward in an aborted defensive move. He mirrors the block Melody showed a couple times, brow furrowed in concentration, then settles back into the stance she showed him and grins.

As the punch comes in, he starts to perform the block again, but faster than his arm, his wing sweeps down and then up again in between them, intercepting her arm and forcing it out away from his body. He takes a step forward into the opening and his other wing swipes in low and fast to slam into the side of her knee.

Melody’s eyes go wide as her arm is quickly deflected by Mel’s wing. The surprise on her face quickly gives way to a massive grin as she twists her hips and drives upward with her knee to meet the other approaching wing.

“Owww,” Melody’s face scrunches up as she connects. “Why did I think hitting metal with my knee wouldn’t hurt? Great block though dude. Keep it up!” Without waiting for a response, she shuffles forward and throws a palm strike at Mel’s sternum, this time significantly faster than her opening punch.

Mel starts to laugh in response, retracting the attacking wing back in towards his shoulder, but it turns into a yelp as she attacks again. He frantically twists away from her strike, one wing whipping around to form a barrier between them. The other flares out in an attempt to help him balance as Mel stumbles back a step from the force of her palm hitting the metal.

As he focuses on regaining his footing, the wing shoves hard outward in an attempt to force Melody back and put some space between them. Mel belatedly puts his arms back up. "Okay, so that wasn't what I was supposed to do," he says, "but in my defense, I panicked."

As he speaks, his wings flare out behind him, the metal flashing as they rearrange themselves slightly. The bladed plates that make up the body of the wings separate slightly so the individual edges are visible, creating an overall larger and more intimidating display. Mel doesn't seem to notice at all, too focused on watching for Melody's next attack.

Melody shuffles just out of range of the metal wing sweeping towards her, her legs tense as she prepares to leap in again and press her advantage. She keeps her eyes locked onto Mel’s, still intently analyzing the weaknesses in his stance, when the sections of Mel’s wings slide into a new configuration. The overhead lights of the danger room dance across the now-exposed blades as Melody trembles with excitement.

“*THAT* is a new trick. Puffing up your wings? Learn that one from Wingnut?” Without waiting for a response, Melody rapidly approaches Mel’s attack range. “I’m gonna kick this time, try to block it the same way! But seriously dude, if this is just your way of showing off your new shit and you wanted to go all out from the start, I’m HERE for that.”

With a few near-instantaneous steps to close the rest of the distance, Melody swings her leg in for a side kick aimed at Mel’s chest.

"Learn from - what? What are you talking about?" Mel asks, helplessly confused. He frantically pulls a wing around to deflect Melody's kick, but as it sweeps forward he notices its new shape and gets distracted staring at it, totally dropping his defense.

Melody's kick connects solidly. The wing absorbs some of the impact, but it's still enough to send him staggering back several steps and struggling to maintain his balance. He flares his wings instinctually to help keep himself upright, and as they move they shift again. The larger blades divide and multiply, becoming smaller and more densely packed until they appear almost like feathers.

Mel regains his footing and immediately almost falls over again as they sweep forward of their own volition in front of him and then fly apart, sending a swarm of the smaller feather-knives shooting directly at Melody.

"Fuck!" Mel squawks in alarm. "Look out!"

Melody doesn’t have time to call back as she sees the mass of blades rocketing in her direction. The muscles in her legs contract as she prepares to dive out of the way, but she’s experienced enough to know that she can’t dodge in time. Not all of them, anyway. Not without using her powers… the ones gnawing at the edge of her consciousness, desperate to help protect her, hungry to neutralize any being that could possibly threaten her.

The ground in front of Melody grows unfathomably dark as a wall of shadowy chains jumps from the floor. A hollow series of thuds echoes across the danger room as dozens of small feather-knives bounce off the wall and carelessly slide across the floor.

The brief quiet in the room is replaced by the deep rattling of chains as the wall in front of Melody reorients itself, the shadowy chains themselves now crawling forward like serpents preparing to strike. Behind them, Melody’s eyes bore into Mel as she reaches to her shoulder and extracts a couple of feather-knives with a wince, turning them over in her hand before dropping them onto the ground.

Mel starts backing up as the shadow chains rise out of the floor. His wings shift again; one remains bristling with feather-like projectiles, but the panels of the other elongate and flatten and lock together to form a more solid barrier. He winces as Melody pulls knives from her shoulder and offers her an apologetic, sheepish smile.

“Well, you drew first blood,” Melody smiles sweetly before the cold intensity returns to her voice. “Let’s go best two out of three.”

As the last word leaves her mouth, the wall of shadow chains slithering towards Mel rises up into the air before crashing down at him.

He opens his mouth to apologize, but what comes out is a yelp as the shadow chains descend on him. His wings swing around to shield him and he braces them against one forearm. The chains slam against them with bruising force and Mel winces as he drops to one knee, hunking down behind his wings.

"Okay," he mutters to himself. "Gotta hit Melody before she murders me. Twice. Could *really* use some help here, buddy." With his free hand, he brushes his hair aside to reach for the base of his visor, hooked unobtrusively around one ear. He presses the button to activate it and his visor springs to life across his vision. After a moment, Wingnut's usual helpful alerts pop up, pointing out spots on his wings where the impact of the shadow chain has caused damage.

Over on one side, a box pops up showing Wingnut's bird's eye view of the battlefield, including Melody sneaking up from behind him. At the last second, he throws himself to the side in a roll to avoid her. As he comes up, his wing sweeps out and fires more knives in Melody's direction. He takes up a defensive stance, the shield wing curving around in front of him.

"Uh, is it too late for a 'my bad'?" he asks sheepishly.

“Never too late!” Melody shouts back as the knives hurtle directly towards her unprotected body. They continue their flight uninterrupted as she dissolves into shadow and the room itself grows noticeably darker. The deep rattling of the chains fades into the background as distorted Melody-like voices ring out in different directions around Mel.

“I--” to Mel’s left.

“Forgive--” behind him.

“You.” all around him. A smaller set of shadow chains launch from the ceiling and gently nestle around Wingnut, obscuring her shared vision with Mel as the room continues to dim. The rattling of the chains begins anew as more appear to cut off possible escape routes.

The noises reach a crescendo when, in a fraction of a second, Melody’s body reconstitutes directly in front of Mel. She swiftly slides her upper body under the wing between her and her target. Melody’s arm wreathes itself in shadow as she drives her fist forward into a point-blank gut punch.

Mel instinctively backs up as the room gets darker, and freezes in place as more chains pop up around him.

He has just enough time to think, *Wingnut's fine, Melody loves her,* and *Yeah, I sure* feel *forgiven* before Melody reappears and lands her super-powered hit. He flies back the couple feet to slam against the wall of the Danger Room, and groans as he regains his feet. He looks down, half expecting to find that Melody has punched a hole straight through him, and cuts off abruptly as he finds something somehow more shocking.

Right where Melody hit him, there's a patch of shiny silver metal.

"What the fuck," he says loudly.

As Mel watches, it rapidly expands outward, quickly spreading out to cover his limbs and torso. Reaching up, he finds the line, just under his jaw, where it stops and skin meets cold metal. He curls one hand into a fist experimentally, and finds no resistance. "Okay," he says slowly, addressing his hands. "When Melody and I are done killing each other, we are gonna have a *talk* about appropriate threat responses."

He takes a step off the wall and flexes his wings, slightly battered from taking the brunt of the impact with the wall, but still functional. He looks back at Melody. "We're uh. Are we still doing the killing each other thing?"

“WHOA!” Melody’s jaw inadvertently drops as her eyes follow the metal crawling across Mel’s body. “That’s fucking rad! How long have you been able to do THAT?”

As she excitedly processes the newest addition to Mel’s robotic arsenal, the lighting in the room grows a bit brighter and her chains rattle more gently.

“And we’re not killing each other! Just sparring!” Melody laughs. “I mean, you shot knives at me, so you’re the one who wanted to *actually* throw down. But I’m having a LOT of fun, dude.”

The sound of clapping echoes around the room, drawing attention to a solitary figure watching from the observation room. The speakers crackle a little with static, before Aman’s voice can be heard over them.

“Oh no, throw down. I think Mel can take it.” he chuckles, leaving it ambiguous to whom he’s referring to, “I’ve got a lot riding on this, don’t I, GAIA?” “Yes, Aman promised to clean the kitchen for a week if *‘Mel’* won.” GAIA chimes in.

“GAIA! You’re not supposed to tell them that!”

Despite efforts to sound teasing, the awe in Aman’s voice is apparent. The wings, that control over the shadow chains, and now...metal skin? Despite his best efforts, the slightest pang of envy pierces its way through his heart. He sighs and shakes his head, forcing a grin.

“Also don’t worry, I’m taking notes. We’ve got a LOT to review.”

Melody’s head immediately darts up to the observation room. “Wh- babe, how long have you been there?! Did you see him shoot *knives* at me? It was sick! Also, get down here and we can ‘review’ all you want. I’m ready for round two.”

She feels a dull pain in her shoulder and looks at where the bladed feathers had been extracted from before shouting towards Aman again. “Bring the first aid kit too? Thanks.”

As the immediate tension in the room relaxes, the shadow chains shrink and some begin disappearing back into the environment. A metallic whirring noise echoes from the ceiling as Wingnut is gently released and descends toward the Mels.

"Aman, I've got my own powers trying to get me killed, I don't need your help!" Mel yells up at the observation room. "Come down and get *your* ass kicked for a change!"

As Mel relaxes and checks Wingnut over, the metal covering his skin slowly bleeds away. He deposits her on his shoulder and frowns back at Melody. "Are you okay? I swear, the knives weren't me. I mean, they were me, but they weren't… *me*." He gestures helplessly. "I didn't know I could *do* that! Any of that!"

Aman winces when Melody mentions the first aid kit, once again feeling the same pang he felt when the razor sharp wingblades first cut into her. A quick, deep breath allows him to center himself, letting go of the worry and anger that twist inside. *It’s just training right? Nowhere close to the dangers she’s faced. To the one’s any of them have.* *Besides, that was freaking awesome!* He reasons with a grin.

“You’re good, dude,” Melody grins at Mel. “It was awesome! And I get, like, not having great control over new powers.” She vaguely gestures back towards the receding shadow chains. “I’ve got a lot better at controlling mine, but it took a long-ass time and I’m still not there. And besides, I’m totally fine. I’ve been stabbed *so* many times.” She jerks her head toward the observation room. “And Aman has got me worse in sparring before.”

The doors to the Danger Room slide open, revealing a grinning Aman with the first kid in hand.

“Before you ask, I’ve never been the one to stab her!” he holds his hands up in mock defence, walking over to the pair, “Being the rescue though, oh yeah, that’s me.”

He takes Melody’s hand, dragging her down to the floor next to him. Wincing a little at the cuts, Aman flips the first aid kit open and grabs some cotton pads and a roll of bandage. He winces eyeing the cuts, then shakes his head.

“Doesn’t look too bad, babe. But you really should get it wrapped up before we go for round...three?” he shrugs, pressing the pads to Melody’s shoulder, “Oh yeah, *Smoke Jr*. What was that about me getting *my* ass kicked?”

"Hey!" Mel yelps. "*First* of all, 'Smoke Jr.' is--that's not--it--" he splutters incoherently for a bit, then crosses his arms and *hmphs*. "Whatever. There's no reasoning with you. But my *point* is, why don't *you* take a turn letting Melody kick your ass, and *I* can go hang out upstairs and heckle."

Melody nods reassuringly to Mel before turning back to Aman. Holding the pads in place as Aman continues bandaging her shoulder, she leans forward and kisses him on the forehead before leaning back with a grin. “Yeah, Aman. Stop picking on Smoke Jr! Let him take a breather. I’m good to go again.”

“That won’t hold super long.” Aman gestures to the bandage, “So you’re definitely going to the medbay once this is over.”

From where he’s sitting, Aman falls back, rolling into a reverse somersault and landing on his feet. With an exaggerated flourish, he turns to Melchior, brows raised in amusement.

“Oh no. You’re staying right here, dude.” he palms his fist with a smirk, before sliding into his preferred right lead stance, “This just turned into an everyone for themselves free-for-all. Hope you’re okay with a pop quiz!”

Mel groans and steps away from the wall, shaking out his wings. They make an unpleasant metal-on-metal noise as bent feathers scrape against each other, but still respond easily enough. "First Melody gives me homework, now I'm getting a pop quiz from you? You're not even teaching this class!"

Despite his complaining, he drops back into the stance Melody showed him.

“Hell yeah.” Melody rises slowly, with relaxed confidence. She rolls her neck before taking her usual deep fighting stance, shooting a beaming smile at the waiting Mel and Aman before her eyes flash with eagerness and intensity.

“Class is in session.”