Alysia would dodge the initial attacks fairly easily. She'd had some other members with the ability to levitate or fly. Her attacks were probed for weaknesses, and her best guess is that his hand-to-hand abilities weren't quite up to snuff. Also, given her expectations of his powers, the closer she got to him, the better. She leapt and went for a kick, causing Alex to dodge back. While he was off balance, she followed up with another roundhouse kick to try and knock him down to the ground.
Alysia cringes a bit as the fire burns her a bit, but with her speedy regeneration, the burns heal nearly as quickly as they happen. And since small burns are minor injuries in the grand scheme of things, she had conditioned herself against such issues. She decided to go on the defensive for a bit, seeing if he had a more time-limited power. After all, if she could outlast him, she knew she could beat him in hand to hand.
"No offense, but you're pathetic. I'm analyzing your patterns at the moment and mind my language, but you're just standing there defending your a**." I would keep attacking and defending myself, feeling a little bad that she was just standing there and not creating new counterattacks.
"No offense, but it's called strategy. I'm gauging your own weaknesses and fighting style. To be frank, you seem to be the 'charge in and swing until you win type.' And that just won't cut it with me." She said with a chuckle, blocking a few of his attacks and renewing her own. She decided some moves from that Aikido class she took would be appropriate.
"Finally you're countering instead of doing the same thing every time, Alysia. Let's keep this up and I'll let you win so I can teach you a lesson about analyzing others' patterns, combat or everyday life." I would keep countering her for a few minutes then let her win so I could get this over with and talk to her more in general and about this.
Alysia threw him over her shoulder and slammed him to the ground with an arm lock.
"I wouldn't just start 'letting people win'. This is practice, but it'll save your life. Knowing how to fight against others with powers, sometimes stronger than your own, is key to not dying in the field." She said, before stepping back as the instructor called the match.
"Not bad you too. Let's see. Let's move on to Angela and Tende." Professor Dalmer called as she began to put some notes to her clipboards. The next pair of students moved up on to the platform as Alysia moved off.
Ochoa was doing a report on their little vacation to the desert. Top brass, or whatever passed for it, wanted a thorough write-up, and Strange had delegated it to Ochoa. He sighed and rubbed his temple as he typed out another line of legalese. He took a breather to look through some more articles. He had been trying to find any possible rumors of... well.... whatever had fled from the desert. The nearest cities were the small towns of Baker and Mountain Pass. To the north was Las Vegas. To the southwest was San Bernardino and Los Angeles. Any of those prospects were bad ones.
"So, how exactly did you end up here? I was just a piece of s*it orphan that liked beheading criminals. I still have nothing. I mean, I have food, water, and a nice place, but I still have no meaningful attachments."
Strange awoke, and gripped at his pounding head ineffectively. He felt like he had been hit by a bus, but that was how he felt most mornings anyways. With a small gasp he pushed himself upright, and tottered to his bathroom. He was back in his subterranean apartment, and as he turned on the shower he wondered how he had arrived back here. He stepped into the cold water, and the shock sent enough blood to his brain to revive his memory. Distant, wobbly images of a helicopter ride back to SF with Ochoa, who seemed to be a decent guy. Strange flopped out of the shower, dried himself hurriedly with a mint colored towel, and pulled on a heavy flannel bathrobe. He was running cold this morning, but chills were not uncommon. The combination of hangover and withdrawls led to many exciting symptoms.
He walked unsteadily over to his small table, and dropped into his characteristic kneel beside it. He took two aspirin dry, and tried to clear his mind. Removing the thoughts was always easy, but the pain and thirst had real staying power. His door slid open, and Mrs. Kiryu shuffled in. She placed a single six pack of something that looked malty in front of him, followed by a plate of biscuits and honey. Strange bowed his head.
"Thank you. Mrs. Kiryu. "
"You are welcome, Master Strange. How was your trip?" She asked as he cracked open a can. Strange took a drink and shrugged.
"It was alright. No one died and I got to see some stars. "
"That is good to here. " She responded politely. "How are the biscuits?" Strange held one in front of his face and regarded it. He gave it a light squeeze to check texture, and then took a bite. He smiled.
"They are pretty good ma'am. Definitely an improvement, but your oatcakes are still better. Maybe next you should try Johnny cakes?" His voice still sounded pained, but a good biscuit would improve anyone's mood.
"I will look them up tonight, thank you. Oh, and Agent Willard wanted me to bring something to your attention. "
Strange chewed attentively.
"Well, he had two things actually. The first comes from the teaching wing. They have a new initiate that is, how do you say, amphibious? They were wondering if you'd be willing to work on some aquatic methods for her? "
Strange chewed, now reflectively. He swallowed and said. "Yeah, that sounds interesting. Have them let me know when and we'll work on it. "
Mrs. Kiryu nodded. "I'll let them know. Willard also wanted you to know that BC is working on tracking down a partner of that cyborg bandit you dealt with the other day, and they will likely want to deploy you on that as well. Willard will brief you on that when the time comes, but it should be soon. "
Strange again nodded "So don't get myself hurt between now and then, that's what they mean, yes?"
"I would suspect so, Master Strange. Enjoy the rest of your breakfast! "
Alysia sat and stretched while she answered Alex’s question.
“I was one of their interventions. Not sure if you know this, but BC agency will take in and provide assistance to anyone who has Phenomenon level power or higher. I myself am a phenomenon, so they took me in. The curses related to our blessings can be… quite crippling.” Alysia explains, thinking of some of her teachers and classmates.
"This is Cruiser 672, seems we're the first responders. We got multiple reports of gunshots and so-" A bullet pierced the window. "S~t! we're under fire! Micheals, RF! Ganglands gone wrong. Repeat we have a gang warfare going on right now!"
"Yes sir!" The officer in the passenger seat then fired back as the cruiser came to a skid and stopped to the right. "I'll get the scattergun!"
"Thats bound to be the cops... Come on! Takada we must go!"
Both Tao and Takada got to the car and managed to escape more officers arrived.
"It's rough, I know. What's your past like? As I told Ochoa my parents were absolute s*it to me, and I'm also a bit suicidal at times. I just want a friend or maybe more, so I'm glad you're here because I realize our pasts are similar."
Strange was again up in the dojo, caught up in the endless practice that dominated most of his days. It was a boxing day, and he was working over a speed bag with a sort of glazed look in his eyes. he alternated between focusing on rhythm and focusing on speed with very little thought. After a short while, he realized that he was falling into a routine, which made the training unproductive. He lowered his fists and turned away from the bag, nearly plowing into Malcom. Malcom had been standing a few feet behind him, apparently unwilling to interrupt him. He now let out a small yelp as him and Strange nearly collided. Strange gave him a small bow as they exchanged awkward apologies.
"Sorry agent, I was lost in thought!" Strange said hurried, as Malcom verbally rushed to also apologize. "No no, I should have said hello, but I was watching you on the bags, I am sorry!"
"Well, If we are both sorry, then no one is hurt. "Strange said with a small chuckle "Were you looking for me?"
Malcom nodded. "Yes, I was wondering if you had a few moments to do some training with me?" He asked the question sheepishly. Strange seemed to ponder this for a moment, as though he wasn't sure if he had time. Truthfully, he never really knew if he did or not, he just went about his day until someone asked him to go somewhere. Eventually Strange gave the affirmative. "Yeah, I suppose I do. You'll want to hit the lockers and change out of that suit though. I'd hate to ruin it. "
"Well..." Malcom said, trailing of awkwardly before finding his words again. "I'd prefer to train in this. I wear it all the time for work, and I should train how I am likely to fight, I think. " Strange gave a legitimate smile at this.
"You have already learned a lesson that eludes many then, Malcom. "
A grim figure dominated the front of the audience that always turned up to watch Strange teach at the dojo- the doctor. He'd decided that perhaps viewing a blessing at work through the eyes of a scientist, rather than an Agent's, might provide him some insight as to the source of the abilities.
Strange rolled his shoulders, and they cracked like a series of gunshots. He then pounded a beer and made to throw it over his shoulder. He caught himself midway, and gently placed the empty at the edge of the mat. He gave malcom an awkward smile. "I keep getting in trouble for making a mess. " He explained, though no one had asked. Strange then straitened himself up, and stared at Malcom for a moment. He seemed to be assessing something, and he spoke. "My boxing practice didn't feel very productive, so I'd rather work on defense. Please, hit me Malcom. Or try at least. If you do not connect or the blow is ineffective I will tell you why. Hopefully, this will help you. "
Malcom looked nervous. Strange had put all the burden of the training on him, but one cannot afford to be shy in a fight. The two stood two meters apart, and Malcom wound up, took two steps at threw a clumsy haymaker at Strange. With a lazy, indifferent motion Strange reached up and grabbed the closed fist mid air, stopping it dead. Malcom's momentum forced him to fall to his knees, and Strange roughly hauled him up and pushed him back a few paces.
"No, all wrong. No feeling, too telegraphed, slow, and limp. You must be faster. " Strange said dryly. He tone wasn't unkind, but there was no easy way to take the message that your attempt was awful. Malcom frowned, and came in again, this time throwing a jab at Strange's ribs. Strange however easily rolled out of the way, and again provided feedback. "Still no feeling, if you are opening cold you must surprise your opponent. "
This went on for the better part of half and hour. Malcom would throw a punch or a kick or attempt to grapple, and Strange would dance away or deflect the blow with ease. Malcom grew angrier and angrier, and his previously nervous attacks became rash. He would string two or three blows together only to have all of them be avoided, this came to a head when, midkick, Strange swept his legs out from under him. Malcom fell into a clumsy pile. He hopped back to his feet. "This is nonsense! Are you training me, or trying to humiliate me?" Malcom's voice was filled with anger and fervor.
"Humiliation is a part of training we all must bear." Strange said, grimly. "Before you can really start to learn you must understand the depths of your ignorance. You do not know how to fight, Malcom, but like most men you fervently believe that you do. "
"But this isn't fighting, Strange! This is you making me stand back and then avoiding me! You have every advantage!" Malcom said loudly, and there was some truth to it, though Strange considered it to also be part of the exercise. Strange nodded.
"Would you like to change sides, Malcom?" Strange asked as he picked up another can and had a drink. Malcom steamed for a moment before answering. "No, I want to spar, I want to fight! That is what I came here to train!"
Strange put down the half empty can and regarded malcom for a moment before simply saying. "Alright. Come on then. "
And come on Malcom did. He lowered himself and charged at Strange, armed outstretched to grapple and take this to the ground. Strange had no desire to go to the ground, as they might roll over his drink, and he was getting close to the end of his daily ration. Strange stumbled forward and to the left, seemingly out of his own control, and then spun on his heel. He put this momentum and his body weight into driving his elbow in Malcom's back, an opening allowed by Malcom's low posture and rush towards him. The blow redircted Malcom down onto the mat, and caused him to suck air. He lay on the mat trying to catch his breath, and Strange crouched next to him.
"You know, you actually have a lot of potential, Malcom. " Strange said, patting the prone agent on the back.
"You're a bastard" Malcom wheezed out. Strange nodded. "True, I never met my father. "
"You know, Mister Strange, I don't believe I've ever actually fought fist on fist. I usually have skeleton ones to do the work for me. Perhaps a friendly little workout sometime?" said the doctor, his faded accent coming out strong on the "mister", sounding more like "Meestair."
It's been a week since the shooting. Jalyn walks across campus, heading to the dorms for the day. After a couple of minutes of walking, she arrives in her dorm. She closes the door, locking it. Taking a deep breath, Jalyn attempts to hover. Levitating a shaky few inches off the floor, Jalyn smiles. This was a part of her ability She was not good with yet, and took a lot of her energy. Her phone buzzes and begins to ring, breaking her concentrating. As if naturally, she steps towards the phone, only to fall to the floor with a loud thud.