9110/Coming Out Swinging

Coming Out Swinging
Date of Scene:	07 September 2019
Location:	Breakstone Lake - Xavier's School
Synopsis:	9110 Logan and Shannon meet for their first training session, and lessons from the school of hard knocks are taught in a kinder way.
Cast of Characters:	Nightingale, Wolverine

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Nightingale has posed:
     What a day it had been so far for Shannon. Never mind a day, try a -week-. At least the week was coming to an end, and with any luck, might pass without further incident. Unusually sullen and bearing the sting of failure, she slinks out from the stables and heads for the sanctuary of the lake, seeking some measure of calm. It would not do to lose her head now, and besides, with any luck, she could make up for having to miss class due to the memorial the day before.

Wolverine has posed:
"Alright, kid," comes Logan's voice, emerging from the tree line with hands shoved in his jacket pockets, "No time like the present. Class is in session."

He doesn't look as though he's prepared to teach a class. He doesn't have equipment laid out. He doesn't even have other students there. No, he's just walking out of the trees by the lake towards Shannon with an intent look on his face and a furrowed brow.

"C'mere."

Nightingale has posed:
     Something told Shannon this class was going to be a rough one. But, she had signed on for it, so what would be, would be. She does hold up her hand briefly, however. God, this was going to be humiliating to have to admit to! "Thanks. One of us better let Bobby know about this, though." She grimaces, her face still flaming red; apparently, the event was very recent. "Let's just say my wings got clipped."

Wolverine has posed:
"What's that mean?" Logan asks, brow furrowed as he closes the distance to stand in front of her, "You can't fly?"

He considers that for a moment before he lifts his shoulders in a shrug, "Doesn't matter. Not here t'teach you flyin'. Not much good at it myself. Can y'still throw a punch?"

Nightingale has posed:
     "Only figuratively speaking. As for the punch, only one way to find out." Yeah. Shannon's hand balls up into a fist and she aims at Logan's midsection, drawing back slightly before twisting and throwing her upper body weight into the motion. It was pretty plain that he was working with a raw beginner, but at least a willing one.

Wolverine has posed:
Logan's reflexes are razor sharp, and even as Shannon is raising her fist he is already on the move. He doesn't take the punch, instead he catches her fist in the palm of his hand and turns it to sail past him. He raises his eyebrows a little, crossing his arms over his chest.

"The other one at least asked if I was serious before she started throwin' haymakers," he says, "What's got you all bunched up, kid?"

Nightingale has posed:
     Yeowch! Even with the punch merely redirected, Shannon's knuckles still stung a little bit. She shakes her hand out a little bit, wriggling her fingers. Yep, they all still worked. "Apparently, I've got a lot more to learn out there than I thought, before I go getting someone ELSE killed." Her ears are flame red and her eyes are a bit misty, but she does not let the tears fall. "It's bad enough knowing that I fu.. fouled up out there. Guess at least it was good I got dressed down in private."

Wolverine has posed:
"I'm bettin' you didn't get anyone killed," Logan says with a shake of his head, "That ain't somethin' y'come back from so easy. I'm figurin' /instead/ that y'prob'ly were around for someone gettin' killed, and you figure y'ought to've done somethin' about it. Well, got a lesson for you. For every one you save? There's gonna be five y'don'. The trick is y'don't focus on that other number, darlin'."

Nightingale has posed:
     Damn. How the hell did he know? "Also seems I can't follow direct orders, and for the life of me I can't figure out what the f.. Bobby was talking about. And if I don't learn -that- lesson, then yeah, there's going to be more of that other number than I'd like. And this time, it really -would- be my fault." Shannon's voice is rising in intensity and pitch, and -both- her hands were balled up into fists this time. But she holds herself back, for the moment, and stops to simply listen.

Wolverine has posed:
"I'm gonna tell y'right now," Logan offers pointedly, "The sugar n' spice, butter wouldn't melt deal? Yer either in it, or y'ain't. If yer gonna curse, kid, then curse. Nothin' I never heard before."

That said, he squares his shoulders and locks stance with her a little bit, "Alright, when yer ready. Just start hittin'. I need t'see where yer form needs improvin'."

Nightingale has posed:
     "That's just it. I haven't -got- form. You've got a raw beginner on your hands." Shannon takes a moment to study Logan's stance, and tries to adjust her own to match. She is a bit shorter, and decidedly more slight, less muscular. If he were to throw a punch right now, it's likely she would get knocked on her backside. She does, however, at least have the sense to bring her hands up to protect her upper body--for all the good it would do. The next punch is aimed a bit higher, more towards his heart, with a fair bit of speed but not the most power behind it. Someone was pulling their punches.

Wolverine has posed:
Logan doesn't flinch or dodge the next punch, instead he simply bats it out of the way with an open palm. For someone with an adamantium skeleton wrapped in dense muscle, it's askin to being smacked in the hand with a frying pan and not gently, either. He frowns at her, shaking his head.

"Y'ain't gonna hurt me, kid. If yer pullin' yer punches here, yer gonna pull 'em out there. My advice? Don't. Because nobody else is."

Nightingale has posed:
     The next punch is launched at Logan's midsection with a surprisingly nasty growl of anger and frustration from Shannon. This time she throws her full upper body weight into the motion, the force inadvertantly concentrated into the first two knuckles of her right hand. This time, though, she follows it up with a swing at his waist with her left hand. "Fine, you asked for it!!! Not... going... to pull... my punches!!!"

Wolverine has posed:
Logan's forearms come up before him in a boxer's stance, protecting his sides for the most part as he rolls with the punches. He still grunts as they strike home, obviously they did something. But then he steps back, putting a heavy hand on her shoulder and shoving her backwards as well to make some space between them.

"Good ... well, better at least. Yer learnin'. Still got a long way t'go but yer never gonna master yerself while yer pissed off. Pissed off is when you build muscle, not skill. You know where the gym is?"

Nightingale has posed:
     Damn it. She'd screwed up again. This was just not a good day for Shannon at all. She stumbles backwards a couple steps from the shove; it takes a second for her to regain her balance. But when she does, her hands are lowered, and no longer curled up for a fight. The sting of the rebuke did more to set her back than anything, although... is that a bit of a smile? Well, at least something had gone right, though she was in no way keen on giving up just yet.

     Nodding, she takes a few deep breaths to try and calm herself. "Yeah, I'll find it. But damn it, I'm not about to give up out here." She runs her fingers through her hair. "What would -you- do, in this kind of situation?"

Wolverine has posed:
"You don't wanna do what I'd do," Logan tells her, waving a hand through the air, "That ain't what yer about. What you oughta do is un'erstand yer here t'learn. Yer not a soldier who failed her mission. Yer a student who did everythin' she could a' done. Now, that wasn't enough - you gotta own that. But now you got that spark t' improve. That's the drive. That anger? You need t' channel that. Use it, not let it use you."

Nightingale has posed:
     "Well, how the hell do I do that? I'm flying blind here, like I told Bobby. There's a crapton of stuff I just don't know." Shannon closes her eyes, letting out a sigh of frustration. "Hell, half the time I don't even know what questions to start with. And that's going to eventually get someone hurt." She runs her fingers through her hair, the usually cheery and unflappable student for once at a complete loss.

Wolverine has posed:
"I jus' told you what you do," Logan tells her, his tone flat and his brow furrowed, "Rather than stalk around out here lookin' for a scrap, you go to the gym. If I'm gonna train you, I need you t' hit hard. Ain't no point swingin' a sword if you don't have the heft to put it through someone when y'have to."

"Not everyone y'look to is gonna have the answers y'need, kid. Sometimes y' jus' gotta look in here," he points a finger at her chest, "An' listen to yerself."

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon just nods slowly. It was embarrassing, a bit frustrating, but at least there was still a chance. At least Logan hadn't dismissed the idea of training her. But it was also very plain she had more work to do. "Okay. I guess that makes some sense, at least the part about hitting the gym. Maybe the rest, too." She cracks a little bit of a smile. "Okay, so there's plenty I could do better on. I get that. Was there anything at all that was done right?"

Wolverine has posed:
"Yer mad," Logan tells her, lifting his shoulders in another shrugging motion as he takes a few more steps away, "That's good. That's fuel for the furnace. Y'need t' stop worryin' about doin' things wrong, kid. If I didn't think y' had anywhere t'go with this, I wouldn't be botherin'. So suck it up an' go get me some muscle I can work with."

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon just smiles a little bit more and nods. She steps forward and touches his hand gingerly. Angry she might be, but grateful as well, and oddly... not so put off by the gruff admonishment to go 'suck it up'. "Thank you. Seriously." Okay, maybe there was a long way to go, but at least there was a starting point. There was nowhere to go but up from there.