[training mingle] - I wanna be the very best

[traumaticus]

Who: The Chosen of Aldrip
Where: The X-mansion
What: The Chosen of Aldrip are invited to yet another training montage
Warnings: General violence. Please mark any other potential warnings on the thread titles!



At the dawn on January 5th the tents for the training grounds raise up again. However, unlike the last time the training camp does not take place in the empty fields of the outskirts but instead they are set on the property of X-Mansion. Courtesy of X-men, who have agreed to let their home to be utilized for common good.

Each tent marks a post for a different activity while ome of them work as a simplified armories. There are sets of blades (from knives to long swords), axes, armors, firearms, bows and arrows and what have you. Feel free to pick your poison, so to speak! However, Richard keeps a keen list on who borrows and what, marking down immediately if something goes missing. So! be sure to return what you take unless you want him to come after you. And just like the always, the chosen are more than welcomed to use their own weapons.

And if the Chosen gets tired of running around in the cold and snow they can go and grab lunch at the mansion's kitchen/dining area! This time it is provided by the inn which, yes, means there's different kind of poultry dishes are being served. As for the dessert there is hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows available for the chosen.

For those who seek out more challenge and advanced training methods they are given access to Danger Room, a holographic combat simulator tucked deep down in one of the basements. In case someone needs help with setting up a perfect training scenario for their needs Morph is there to answer any questions.


The activities include:

Archery (instructor: Richard)
Horseback riding (instructor: Richard)
Swords (instructors: a2, Mitsuru Kirijo)
Magic + Superpower guidance(instructors: Morrigan, Fauna)
Firearms (instructors: Caitlyn, Levi)
Non-lethal combat (instructor: Vash)
Tech-Support (instructor: Mitsuru)
First-aid (instructor: Kurama)
Survival skills (instructor: Kurama)
Rescue Training (instructor: Morph)
Hand-to-Hand combat (instructor: Vi)
Danger Room (instructor: Moprh)
Lunch


[ooc: There is going to be a top-level for each activity/category. But feel free to make your own wildcard options outside of them, too. o/]

Comments

Swords

[traumaticus]

A2 | OPEN.

[abandonware]

[Having been nagged to death by Pod, post-mortem, A2 is a ghostly, black-clad shape among the other trainers. Her own swords, a bright white katana and a heavy, uniform slab of a blade, are set aside in favor of dulled practice weapons. She is concerned that she's much too used to combat with opponents made of metal, but these tools ease her mind.

She's also in a really cute puffer jacket. Ignore that. Her introduction to sword work, as it were, is to toss a practice weapon to her trainee and say:]

Let's see how you stand. [And then:] You're holding it wrong.

[Despite her attitude, her training is accommodating and surprisingly patient.

Later, out of a curiosity she will swear she doesn't have, she'll wander into the danger room and find the opponents therein more to her liking. A2 moves with the fluidity of a dancer, her combat style aggressive, decisive and graceful. A backflip in midair smoothly shifts into her kicking the hilt of her sword to send it spinning into an opponent. She shifts from hand to hand, to cleaving blows with her greatsword, and back to her katana without any interruption in flow. She sprints and dives through space so quickly that she leaves afterimages, mirages to confuse the eye. She and Pod move in concerted effort, picking off their enemies one by one with a combination of A2's strikes and long-range fire from Pod. It's almost too much to look at all at once.]

[variantcover]

[ Training montage??? You can bet Gwen will be there with bells on. Or, rather, in her hero costume, cowl on and ready to go. She has also traded her katanas for wooden dummy swords, and is taking some practice swings when she pauses mid-move to look up at the instructor. ]

Huh? What do you mean I'm holding it wrong?

[ Maybe this is what happens when you learn swordfighting from someone other than a YouTube tutorial. ]

[abandonware]

[This human (?) is brightly colored and moves with the kind of confidence that A2, from her time observing humans, is beginning to associate with... not human "baby," that was a different form of development. A little older than the girl she'd spoken to on the network. Someone who was about the age that she was designed to appear as. And so, she treats her new pupil like she would-

(a flash of a memory: a sword passing from hand to hand. no.4 adjusting her grip - "here, like this, captain. see? it gives you more control over the blade. try this...")

- someone her age. She hesitates, then steps forward in a few decisive strides. Her hands lift, uncertain, then settle lightly on Gwen's wrist.]

Like this. [Slowly - a little awkwardly - she adjusts Gwen's grip on the handle of the blade, then takes a half step back.] You'll have more control over the blade. And be careful - watch your flank. Using two swords at once... you'll be left open there.

[variantcover]

[ Gwen takes note of the adjustment, and once her instructor has stepped back out of reach, she flourishes the blade, swinging it in a practiced circle, her eyes widening in comprehension. ]

Oh yeah, you're right, there's way more control this way!

[ She quickly adjusts the grip on her off hand the same way, then enters a ready stance again. ]

Okay, let's try this again. Come at me, and I'll try to block you.

[abandonware]

[The improvement is immediate, and A2 allows herself to feel relieved at it, that she'd gotten it right. At the direction, she nods in silent acquiescence, then creates some distance between them. It's basic training again, and memory fills in the uneasy cracks in her demeanor, making her shift into a ready stance as well.

A2 calibrates some of her settings, and when she rushes forward in a sprint it's at a pace a human being can follow. Dropping her shoulders before the point their practice swords clash, she starts off the spar with a quick upward swing of her wooden blade.]

[variantcover]

[ Gwen is able to quickly move her blade to block the upward swing, already feeling an increase in the control she has over the weapon thanks to the instruction she's received. Turns out that coming to this training meetup wasn't a waste of time after all.

She parries with one hand, then spins and swings the other in for an attack. ]

[abandonware]

[A2 counters by creating distance, elegantly backflipping and landing, cat-like, on her feet. Cat-like save the grooves her descent leave behind and the weight to her landing.

She straightens up slowly.] Not bad. [...] I see the improvement.

[variantcover]

[ Gwen's eyes widen with delight behind her mask when her instructor leaps gracefully out of the way. ]

Ohhhhkay. You didn't say this was acrobatics training, too.

[ But two can play that game. With a Cheshire cat-like grin, Gwen also leaps, flipping over the android and spinning in midair to swipe at her with one of her swords. ]

[abandonware]

[While far more subdued in her own reactions, A2's eyebrows hike up when Gwen leaps over her. Parrying the swipe, her return swing goes low and wide.]

Not really. But it's good to be prepared for changes in enemy tactics.

[Though this is far less deadly or high stakes than even her basic training, the familiarity of sparring is comfortable. A battle for show, for fun... it had been so long that she almost doesn't remember it.]

[clericus]

[ wolfwood has wandered his way down to the danger room. less out of any actual desire to be here, and more out of a desperation to be anywhere else besides outside, where it's cold and the people are annoying and it's noisy. he probably shouldn't have gone to the training camp at all-- but there was the promise of free food, and it couldn't be more boring than staying back at the cabin alone, right...

he's tucked in the corner, lighting up a cigarette right as the room whirs to life. jesus. this world doesn't seem to be as keen on smoking indoors as where he's from, but wolfwood didn't think he was going to activate some kinda security system doing it.

or, maybe not a security system. he raises a brow as a2 steps in and starts swinging, cutting down holographic enemies with ease. wolfwood's having a tough time even tracking her movements. he's used to fighting more-than-humans, but this is something... different. swords have seemed laughable to him since he got here. what good would one do against a gun? seeing this, though, he sort of gets how someone like her would hold her own in combat. ]

Who you tryina impress?

[ better to break the silence now, he figures. before he lets it go on too long and gets himself stabbed. ]

[abandonware]

[A2 notes the human's approach in the back of her mind, filing data away for later. All humans moved differently from androids and machines, but there were other differences. Heat signatures. Heart rate. The shuffling amble of feet against the ground where a member of YoRHa's would be heavy and uniform.

She drives her sword through one of her last opponents in one quick, brutal moment — a jarring contrast to her earlier dance. The simulation flickers and falls away.

She straightens, letting Virtuous Contract shimmer back into place in its floating lock. At last she turns to this new human, a hand on her hip.] Not trying to impress anyone. Got bored of wandering around.

[Studying more carefully, her chin tilts up in a subtle challenge.] What's with the glasses? Trying to look cool for someone?

[clericus]

[ wolfwood's brows raise-- as if surprised to be called out on the sunglasses, or maybe like he'd forgotten them altogether-- and they slide down his nose enough that his eyes peek over the tops of the lenses. just as quick, he bumps them back up into place, and then takes the cigarette out of his mouth and stubs it out on the sole of his shoe. ]

Prescription, actually. Blind as a worm without 'em.

[ a lie. probably. they're more a mask than anything-- a layer of separation from the world, a way to control how he's perceived (not soft, never soft).

also, the desert sun is pretty brutal. ]

Seems less borin' down here than the snoozefest up there, at least. [ wolfwood gestures over his shoulder with a thumb, clicking his tongue with the motion. ] What's with the sword? How's it uh... stay there?

[abandonware]

Thought you couldn't see.

[It's delivered in a lazy drawl. She glances over her shoulder at her swords.] Anti-grav lock. Allows for rapid weapon change.

[A product of YoRHa's technological advances.] The sword's just a sword.

[An important sword, but nothing outside of that.]

You here to practice?

[clericus]

Eh, it comes 'n goes.

[ wolfwood tucks his stubbed-out cigarette into his suit jacket pocket-- presumably to relight later, rather than out of any concern of leaving a mess. a2 doesn't seem to buy into his bullshit, but she doesn't call him on it, either. that suits him fine. he needs fewer nosy people in his life. ]

I'unno what there is to practice for, but... yeah, s'pose that's what I'm here for. [ he wraps his arm around an oversized metal cross that neatly blends in with the wall it's leaned up against, and finally approaches a2, machinery in tow. it clunks noisily as he lets the butt of it hit the ground-- disrespectful-- and up close like this, it's a little more obvious that it's some sort of machine gun. emphasis on little. the shape is atypical even where he comes from. ]

I ain't got a sword though. Just this. Wish I had one'a those anti-whatevers for it, 's a pain in the ass to carry around.

[abandonware]

Hm.

[Her subtle way of marking that she doesn't believe a word of that. Her eyes follow as he slips the cigarette into his jacket pocket — what was that thing? — though luckily she's temporarily distracted from becoming an example used in a Truth™ campaign by the weapon.

A2 walks around the massive cross slowly, nudging the base with a toe.] This is some sort of gun? ... How the hell do you use this? You can't snipe with it.

[Gunner is not her specialty, but she'd worked with one before. Even for an android, this would be an unwieldy and clunky piece of equipment.] How does it work?

[clericus]

[ cut to yorha preparing a 'these are your logic circuits on drugs' PSA...

wolfwood doesn't seem particularly protective of the gun, and takes no offense to a2 nudging at the base of it. ] Yeah, subtlety ain't really its strong suit. [ not that that stops him from wrapping it up and carrying it around like it's a totally normal accessory to have.

he does seem a little surprised that a2 wants to know how it works, brows raising above the frame of his sunglasses. but he shrugs, ] Watch out for the shells.

[ and wolfwood kicks at the base of the cross to pop it off the ground, rotating a rough 45 degrees where he catches the end of it with his free hand. he grabs at the skull-shaped relief in the center of the cross, and twists it-- with a ka-chunk, the entire length of the cross pops open to reveal a barrel down the middle of it. when wolfwood fires, it functions... much like a machine gun ordinarily would. noisy, bullet casings bouncing around the room, with the sort of recoil that would usually knock someone his size on his ass. he stops the spray of bullets, but keeps the gun awkwardly in his hands, barrel pointed at the wall. ]

Y'wanna see the beam?

[abandonware]

[The sheer amount of casings surrounding them and the ease in which the man holds such a bizarre and unwieldy firearm is taken in with a stoic sort of approval. A2 stands with her arms crossed, her expression unreadable as the racket of high powered artillery fire fills the air. The air goes still again in the aftermath. A2's eyebrows lift a fraction.]

Holy crap. How does a human your size carry that thing?

[An android, sure. But a human? As much as she was programmed to love and adore them, their physicality was concerning. Each one could be killed by any number of things. Terrifying. Knowing this and seeing this man's weapon pings at some sense of oddness that she can't determine by observation alone.]

Beam? Hm. Sure. [A graceful little wave of her hand follows this, as if she's offering permission.] Knock yourself out.