Summary:A little encounter in the library turns into tryouts for Chava. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Early in the afternoon, and Hank is presently setup on a long table with perhaps a half dozen volumes of various sizes open. He is literally on top of the table, currently dressed in simple and comfortable attire - black khaki shorts and a short-sleeved white button down shirt. Holding one book up he is reading it, a hand pressed to the tabletop as he hunkers there. another volume is swapped in with - of all things - one of his feet before he starts poring over it too.
As Chava slips into the library, she passes the desk Hank is sitting on and halfway is into a row of shelves as she stops and moves backwards to the entry of it. Literally walking backwards, turning a 180 to look at McCoy only there. "Mr. Librarian, where is the dictionary Orang Outan-Ankh Morporkeese again?" she teases a little, more about the pose than the fur. She does manage to pull a pointy hat with the label Wizzard out of her backpack though, dusting it off more for show. It had been a pair of T-shirts before she tracked backwards.
Hank glances over, and offers a toothy grin. "Hello Miss Kang, good to see you're keeping your hand in, as it were, practicing your powers is always laudable." The books set aside, he pivots face the Asian girl, and the grin turns perhaps a hint impish as he strikes a -very- simian pose, both fists pressed to the tabletop on the backs of each hand as he leans forward a moment. "Ah, the rare Orang Outan-Ankh dictionary, also known as to Oo-Oo-Oog Lexicon? That's currently on loan to the nation of Wakanda, but I can surely find you some relevant, albeit lesser, references to work with."
"Too bad, too bad, could have used it for the Diskworld RPG… but that's really nothing. I mean… it's just some T-shirts…" Chava answers, her cheeks flushing a little. She's not someone who's used too much to get praised for doing a witty remark. Especially not a teacher. "Eh, well, I guess some other references might work too. Or training… Cessily mentioned something in that direction…"
"Any practice in the use of you powers gives you greater experience, and that can make a difference down the line." Hank hops to the ground and gathers up his various texts and tomes, his smile gentle as he nods, hoping Chava will be more at ease. "Haven't played in any RPGs in some time." He admits. "However there's quite a sizable section on gaming here…" He cants his head to one side, the smile turning bratty again. "…it seems we have a preponderance of the so-called 'nerdy' types enrolled." A nod. "And admittedly on the staff, as well." Straightening, Hank balances the books on one massive hand, and then gestures towards the area in question. "Just over there, I'll join you in a moment once I've put these volumes away, and we can see what can be found. Or if you'd rather we could head to the danger room or the grounds for other training?"
"A former student tole me that you might hav had taken good old D&D in a class as tactics or something… Red hair, year of 2015 I believe." Chava says as she fiddles with the impropertu hat, slowly sorting it back to two pieces of fabric, but not into the T-shirts they used to be. Less concentration needed. "My favorite section… wait, Danger room?" She stops, looking at Hank. "I never had special training in danger room… so why not?"
"Ah, that would be Miss Grey, Jeanie was actually a bit hesitant about it at first, but let me say she grew rapidly to be quite an excellent player." Hank smiles. "I was most often the DM, Bobby was generally the Thief, Scott was -always- a Paladin, Jeanie tended towards Cleric or Mage of course, and when I played I was generally either a Mage or a Bard." His expression is warm with remembrance. A soft chuckle when Chava's full attention is engaged by mention of the Danger Room. "It is generally only used by those with special needs in their efforts to control their powers or for those who do field work and operations, like the X-Men." His head cants to the other side as he regards the young lady. "Did I err in thinking you might enjoy seeing it?"
"Well, it would be a chance to try to get at least someone to see what I manage in field-like conditions. Not just on the homefront." Chava answers, shrugging as she opens the backpack to sort the fabric slabs into it, revealing pretty much all the books needed to run a game of D&D. "Oh, I run the games usually, but when I play, I do the sorcerer or Wizard and use the silly spells creatively."
"Have you field experience? If so what sort?" Hank swiftly puts his books back where they belong, the man has a deep and abiding respect for them. He peeks at contents of the bag, nodding approval that the books are present. "It is surprising how effective one can be using spells other than the common, coming up with creative and useful applications for things that are fresh is eminently satisfying." He agrees. Once the books are away and Chava answers him, Hank will lead the way to whatever destination is chosen.
"Eh, besides some self defense classes no real field experience… I mean, you could count that I fix up the uniforms when the X-men come back. So, how about a taste of the Danger room?" Chava admits, shrugging as she follows Hank along. "Oh, I love to use Prestidigitation. Silly spell usually. But it can be the most deadly spell. Like chilling the ceiling to freezing and then heating it the next moment, resulting in it coming down."
.~{:--------------:}~.
"Danger Room it is, we can program some simple exercises, sort of an introduction. Am I to understand you'd be interested in field work? I'll have to discuss it with the other staff, of course." Hank leads the way down to the restricted areas of the base, his access more than ample to get everywhere, and bring Chava along with him. Once near the danger room he takes a moment to get changed into costume. Eyes of sapphire are bright as he ponders a moment, and then with a grin sends both hands screaming across the keys of a holographic keyboard to program a basic scenario.
"First, I want you to experience what the room's environmental simulations can do - for example, a change of terrain…" And as he strikes the last key, the keyboard vanishes and the cold metal walls along with it as a wash of light, and wind and scent expands out to provide a vista of breathtaking realism and scope. When things settle, the pair stand atop a cliff meeting a sea shore tossed by waves. The sky is intensely blue, dotted with clouds painted in vivid reds and oranges from the sun setting off at the horizon. The cliff top is covered with lush greenery, and the grandfather of all apple trees, the branches laden with fruit.
Chava follows along, whistling as they enter the danger room, before full out stopping in awe at the vista starting to come out of nowhere. "Wow… That… Is that in california or up in the north?" she asks, trying to peer off the cliff after putting down the backpuck under the apple tree. "So, Holodeck time, hmmm? Shuld we inform the redshirts to wait with breaching charges on the door to bust us out if we mess up or do we kick and tear ourselves free after it locks us in?"
"Well…no, it isn't a real place, I just whipped up something random with some preprogrammed terrain features and tweaked it for the weather and such. I kept the gravity at Earth standard, and the weather to be pleasant." He grins. "That said, this vista…" Hank sweeps an arm to indicate what they're both seeing. "…entirely fictional." He can't help but laugh at the Star Trek references. "I was going for 'natural splendor', not 'high tech adventure', but there's plenty of options. Honestly, the Danger Room can be a lot of fun, I could spend days just programming it." And he has done just that, too!
"If you ever want to end the simulation all you have to do is say the words, after saying 'Danger Room'." Hank smiles, plucks and apple from the tree and tosses it. "Danger Room - freeze simulation." And that apple and the breeze, all the sounds, everything all around just stops - a frozen moment. He looks around. "Of course I have admin access, but anyone can exit at any time, no getting trapped in here. And that means no need for breaching charges!" Usually.
"Heh, just covering all bases." Chava chuckles as she adresses the room. "Danger room - resume." Reaching into her backpack, she pulls out the fabric pieces she had turned into the hat earlier. "So, you said this is a training facility, Mr. McCoy. Where to start?"
"Well, that would be…here, of course." With grand showman's flourish Hank shimmers and vanishes. In the distance Chava can see a portal open, and through it comes a pair of…oh my, a pair of /Orcs/! Each stands around six feet tall, and they're armed with on one hand a great axe, and the other with composite bow in hand and a quiver at its back choc-a-bloc full of arrows. The axe wielder wears plate and chain, and the archer studded leather. A moment's pause, and then they scream battle cries as they engage.
The Axeman charges towards Chava, the massive axe twirled menacingly. The archer? The archer simply nocks an arrow and lets fly, a second arrow readied. "You DIE, 'uman!" He declares in a voice that sounds like rocks grinding.
"Orcs… AC 13, 5 HP, Initiative +0, does 2d4+4 or 1d6+3 damage." Chava mutters as she cracks her fingers, slinging the two pieces of fabric around her shoulder before stretching out the hand towards the Orcs, trying to feel for their clothes, especially their boots. People that don't reach you can't fight you, right? And one can't reach when one can't walk because the boots are tied together, or even better, melded together…
Fortuantely the first arrow misses, barely - the crude arrow head severing a lock of hair as it flicks within a couple inches of Chava's face. The axe wielder does however make a most satisfactory crash as the leather of his boots gets melded together mid stride. THUD! ClANG! His axe is a few feet in front of him when the brute simply tears himself free of the boots by the simple expedient of tearing the boots asunder. The archer is actually in better stead, not having been running when /his/ boots get melded together. Even as he falls the second arrow is let fly, though it goes careening madly off towards the setting sun, yards over Chava's head, no doubt destined to end up in a watery grave below. The first orc lets loose a blood curdling shriek, and through the portal lopes a wolf…a wolf the size of a pony, so no…not a wolf, a Worg! The enormous creature is utterly terrifying, and wearing a saddle and saddle bags. Of course there's a pose point where it howls at the sky, and then it comes on towards Chava like a train wreck in motion!
Chava growls to herself as the orc frees himself and does her best to flee some yards backwards, keeping some distance as she goes for the hoodloom's underarmor, pulling the strings in the neck tight. Not like she is closing her hands around the orc's neck but more akin to using a couple tenth's of an inch of cloth as a garotte to strangle the orc, her arms and face showing the force she has to put into it. Tying the strings off in the back, she jumps behind the treee, peering at the archer to try to repeat the same trick on the archer, though this time with a leather string severed of his armor. Leaving the Worg darting in…
It is appalling how fast that Worg can run! Fortunately, it also has considerable inertia when moving at speed, which cuts down on maneuverability. With Chava taking cover behind the tree, the horror-canine ends up scrabbling to course-correct and continue the attack and runs past her, though it does manage bite en passant, breath redolent with the stench of rotting meat when massive jaws clash shut in a run by attempt at biting.
The plate wearing Orc is in trouble! It doesn't take a whole lot of force to cut off one's air supply, and with the improvised garrote in play? Yeah, he's having trouble, that's for sure. However, Orcs are very hardy creatures, and this one turns his hate filled gaze to where Chava hunkers, taking advantage of grandfather apple tree's sheltering bulk. Ignoring his own discomfort, the Orc gets to his knees, and then stumbles awkwardly to stand, moving to close the distance to Chava and drawing a dagger with ten full inches of blade, the metal discolored from lack of care and old blood.
The archer, meanwhile, not nearly as burly as his cohort. He panics as his wind is cut off, the bow dropped as he frantically tugs at the thong strangling him as his own armor goes from protection to threat!
Chava franticly tried to avoid the Warg as it darted for her, throwing herself to the ground as it darted for her again, the right arm injured from the attack. On her back, she tried to reach for the wolves saddle belt, having him pull her. Which would also give the armored orc time to succumb to being choked…
Getting dragged by pissed off Worg while bleeding - yeah - not much fun, but it DOES get the girl some distance even as the grimly stalking Orc in heavy armor trudges onwards and up the slight slope. Step, by step…by step he climbs…and then he goes to one knee a moment before staggering forward further. Alas, he ends up crawling, determination writ large in every sinew before finally he slumps and lies still.
The archer manages to take out a short bladed knife and cut the ties of his armor, including the bit strangling him…and himself. Not the bravest of creatures, he turns tail and flees for the gate, dagger dropped as he flees, joining his bow on the ground. Chava might not even notice, being somewhat distracted at the moment, as the archer manages to tumble through the portal they arrived in and fades from view as the thing closes.
The Worg, in the meanwhile is in a frenzy trying to bite the girl clinging to the saddle girth beneath him, it is a bumpy ride for sure!
Chava lets fo of the belt after some minute, her whole right side hurting and bleeding. But scrambling up from the floor, she had a grim smile on her lips, reaching for the saddle belt that had dragged her around with her powers to repeat the trick: pull it tight, just a couple extra holes to try to stop the creature from attacking her and instead go mad. "You want to play hard, doggy?"
As luck would have it, Chava's tightening of the straps comes at a propitious moment - right as it has expelled a breath she cinches it tighter. Struggling for breath, nearly mad with the need for oxygen the animal's paroxysms lend it to hopping about before it falls over too, panting. And then everything goes still a moment, and she can hear Hank's voice. "Danger Room - End Simulation."
The room reverts to the baseline, gleaming white and chrome, and with the end of the simulation the wounds that Chava suffered mostly vanish, though she'll have some nice bruises! Hank offers a hand down to the girl, her own much smaller and more delicate hand engulfed by a surprisingly gentle grip as he helps her to her feet with a smile. "Interesting display, one absolutely cannot fault your fighting spirit, Miss Kang." He relinquishes her hand, and then rubs at his chin in thought, the other hand gripping the elbow of that arm. "I would recommend some more advanced fighting courses to round out your skills, but in time I think you've the potential for field ops." He looks very serious then, hands clasping behind him. "Of course the training will not be easy, and you WILL take more bruises, and it will be frustrating and challenging in the extreme." Searching her gaze, he continues. "So ask yourself - do you /really/ want this? If you're not committed I'll not recommend you for more advanced battle training."
The asian girl winces a little, trying to relocate her shoulder. "W…wow.. I mean… that means… I… I passed the tryouts or something?!" She slowly starts to smile as she eyes up to Hank. "That means I am an X-man, right? Or at least almost. Oh god, I need to train harder! I mean, I have been trying to get a tryout since like the second month I'm here! I mean, the X-men pulled me out of that hell, how could I not want to?!"
Hank can't help but laugh, not at all unkindly either, he's not laughing at Chava. "It means that you impressed me with your spirit, and that I think /in time/ you might be field ready, but you have a long way to go before you're ready for the threats the X-Men deal with." Hank rests both of his massive hands on Chava's shoulders, a twitch to help settle her twisted shoulder again. "I know it is a difficult thing to ask but it will take a lot of very hard work before you're ready. I'm only one member of the staff, there's training and trials ahead but since you clearly want it, I'll talk to the other faculty and see about adjusting your course and training schedule with that in mind."
Both hands are withdrawn, and then he claps them together. "So! Let us see what sort of condition you're in, we'll start with a brisk little run - perhaps four of five kilometers, and then after we'll spar and put you through your paces so I can get a feel for where things stand." He grins toothily. "Doesn't that sound lovely?"
The girl winces again as Hank fixes the shoulder really, but he also gets a chance to notice that the short and stubby form of the girl is actually quite a lot of muscles. Which probably helped with trying to strangle the orcs with their thick necks in the simulation. "X-Men Boot camp? Fine, got nothing better planned for the summer anyway. And my High school degree can't really get better or worse than mediocre at the moment anyway."
"Right then. We'll gauge your present skill and conditioning, and I'll submit my findings to the other faculty and see what changes to your training and class schedule are needed." Hank does look a little concerned about the degree, and then smiles. "Well, if you need any tutoring or help there's no question that there are people here that would be eager to help, myself included - as time permits, of course." With that said, Hank will lead the way out and put Chava through a veritable wringer. Boot camp? More like Boot to the Head Camp as he pushes the girl to her limits and possibly beyond!