Combat was becoming easier, though she wasn't able to charm with a single look, moods became linked with actions. The world was opening up power wise yet she still wanted to go back to before they heightened.
[b "What, are you afraid I'm going to pick sides right now? Still don't care about either,"] Kenna moved back, preparing her counter attack. [b "You aren't worried that suddenly I'm going to turn on you, are you? I'm stuck with you. We're alike and an I'm an empath."]
It was annoying as fuck but useful.
Storm grabbed Tristan's hand and tugged him towards the door. [i "Let's not waste our time here,"] she grumbled, finally fed up with Erik's attitude.
Before he disappeared out the door, Tristan met Kenna's eye and gave her a thumbs up, mouthing, [i "Kick his ass!"]
Once they're alone, Erik wastes no time diving into the fight. He would have no choice to admit that her fighting skills had improved since that first sparring match. Still, he was itching to throw punches.
[b "I think you're getting a little too chummy with these people,"] he huffed, sweeping his leg to try and knock her off her feet. [b "I thought you knew better than to get attached."]
Could there not even be an argument without an audience. Charles had warned her that their powers were more affected by emotions either spiking or dropping. Also the cause of losing energy levels. That didn't stop her from feelings ruffled like a cat.
[b "Thanks, Tristan,"] Kenna said, meaning it but the tone but it came out. [b "Great, you gave your opinion without understanding any reasons. Now let's train, in private?"]
If that was training session that she could define herself to him. Straightening she never lost eye contact with him. [b " Fine, let's do this."]
Erik tilted his head slightly to the side, both impressed and annoyed by her intensity. He wasn't a man who liked being challenged. [b Then act like it and don't give me excuses that you can't do what is asked of you,"] he snapped back.
[i "She didn't say she couldn't, she said she didn't want to,"] Tristan butted in, frowning.
[b "Unless you want to be next on the mat with me, I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself, Tremors,"] Erik glared his way.
Tristan fell silent once more, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't need to defend Kenna. She was more than capable of doing it herself. Now he was just looking forward to watching her kick Magneto's ass.
[b "Square up,"] Erik ordered her, going into a boxing stance. [b "It shouldn't be a problem to pin me if you're so confident."]
Where most would quake and back off, Kenna did not. Somewhere it was a lacking in that. During this time there was a lot more control, Erik didn't feel like a tesla coil.
Giving a sound of disbelief, her anger taking front and center. "Learned nothing? This is the first time in the last few years that I haven't had everyone's emotions crashing into me! That is amazing. If I could not feel it at all, I would scream with delight and celebrate."
Refusing to give in she gave a small sound of annoyance. "Now are we going to train or are you going to snarl at me all day?"
Erik looked like he had an aneurysm that was about to rupture. He took a moment to press two fingers against the bridge of his nose, combating a headache. "I understand that you feel that way, but these people have done wicked things, and therefore, it shouldn't weigh on your mind about manipulating them."
Tristan and Storm were watching the argument from the sidelines, both not wanting to be the one to intrude. Tristan out of pure fear, and Storm because she wanted Kenna to rip Erik to shreds.
"We've been training for two weeks, how can you not be confident in your abilities yet? Hell, even the human squirrel has started controlling his quakes," Erik threw a hand in the direction of Tristan.
Magneto stomped as close to Kenna as he could get without being right up on her. His arms crossed over his chest. "You need to fully commit to what we're about to do."
Two and a half weeks of careful planning and it was so close. The tension was so thick that it wouldn't even take a butter knife to cut the air. It'd only take a finger. Training sessions became a daily thing between the men, as Kenna was nearly a pawn, but treated a bit better than that. At least now her mind wasn't always assaulted by the feelings all the time. It was there, she read them, but it didn't linger.
"So, your big idea...is for me to enter someone's mind and take control for a while. I'm not a siren, you know, that takes a lot of effort," Kenna summarized the day before they would be going to Seattle. "Sam was a fluke and I had no idea how I did it, Erik. And that got him killed...well...kind of I guess."
She wanted nothing to do with the control of another person but it seemed a subject that wouldn't drop.
He gave a soft laugh. [b "Can't blame you there. People downright suck."]
The mention of food had his stomach growling. [b "If not, we can just blame Kurt. He's a walking stomach. I'm sure we'll find something in the kitchen, though."]
He stripped the gloves off and returned them to the gear rack. He knew he was sweaty and gross, but there was always time to shower later. [b "Let's feast!"]
Luckily enough, there were stacks of pancakes left over from breakfast still sitting on the counter. Tristan wasted no time tossing them in the microwave, staring through the door at it like a little kid. [b "Help yourself to coffee or juice. There's also Tylenol in the cabinet above the sink in case you're in pain from the brute."]
[i "I've just left a meeting with a rather large blue man. I'm going to assume you're calling him the brute, and not myself,"] Erik's voice drawled from the doorway.
Tristan snapped to attention and bumped his head on the cabinet above the microwave. [b "Eavesdropping won't win you points around here."]
[b "It could be even considered rolling with the punches...I know...that was a lame joke but there it is..."] Kenna smiled dryly. Right now a hot shower sounded amazing on her back, but pain only made one stronger or broke them. [b "Nope, that won't happen, see I actually like you. I don't care about them. An empath who doesn't care about others, it's the worse irony case in the world."]
With the equipment put away, she stretched to free her back a bit more. [b "Do you think there's any food left?"] She asked casually. He was the first true friend, the others she lied to, not with him. It was a good feeling.
She was a better instructor than he had been anticipating. She knew proper combat techniques, and he was grateful that she pushed through the pain from her previous sparring match to show him as best as she could. It wasn't long before he was getting the hang of combining punches and kicks.
Tristan beamed as she complimented his control. [b "I've never been able to do this without slipping up."]
He threw a few more mediocre punches, and then landed a solid kick with only a faint tremor following. [b "You're right, I just have to focus on my striking, and not on keeping myself under control."]
His shirt was soaking through with sweat, and he was panting from his lack of stamina. [b "Ever consider being an instructor? We could always use another teacher,"] he offered, only half-joking.
[b "I would love to...but I think our angry friend might have hurt something...This is just like the training room just without things trying to kill you,"] Kenna chuckled, she really was in pain and knew that tomorrow she'd do more training. It wasn't even worth bringing up the sexual undertones that had been given.
Watching him for a few more times with the pointers that had been given to her she gave a smile. There seemed a little bit more control, she could see the focus, even the tremor didn't seem as bad. She gave a smile. At the end she looked towards him helping him with the equipment.
[b "Did you notice that you didn't have as bad of a tremor? Or the fact there wasn't that bad from your powers? You've got this,"] Kenna said simply. As far as friends went with her he was one, even if she was rough at this.
Tristan listened intently, peering at the bag and trying to picture it as an opponent. [b "Jab jab kick,"] he mumbled to himself as she gave the instructions.
His stance was crooked and his balance way off. His two punches were weak. The kick, at least, made good contact. [b "Sorry, sorry,"] he shook his head and stepped back into position. [b "Let it go. Out of your head."]
He forced his body to release the tension. Eyes on the prize. Follow through with the punches. Like she had anticipated, the ground shook slightly when he gave the bag a low roundhouse kick. Tristan steadied himself before he completely lost his balance.
[b "Can you demonstrate a good kick? I feel like I should be able to get my leg up higher,"] he frowned, trying again but still falling short of striking above the opponent's would-be waist.
"We're going to work on this punching bag first...we can get to sparring later. Besides...you get to feel comfortable with a punching bag faster," Kenna started. Teaching him the basic moves she knew it was time to go a little deeper, just what she had been taught at nineteen. It felt like a life time ago.
[b "Alright...so here is the basic of this...kickboxing is about giving and taking. Release and withholding...It's just the right moment. You learn to communicate within yourself to understand what's going on inside and out,"] Kenna explained. She hadn't really changed, having had enough pain from this training. [b "So...start with this, withhold on the punches...and let it go with the kicks, even if you cause a tremor, that's okay."]
He held his hands up in surrender. [b "My lips are sealed. Not my story to tell."]
Tristan barely caught the first glove she tossed his way. At least she was kind enough to give him the benefit of the doubt. And a sparring helmet. [b "It's worth a shot,"] he agreed.
Unfortunately, his jeans were not ideal combat gear. [b "Give me a minute,"] he dropped the gloves and jogged to the men's changing rooms.
With a fresh pair of sweatpants and the gloves securely on his hands, he was ready. He looked incredibly stupid with the helmet, but it was better to be safe than sorry. By his awkward stance, it was more than a little clear that he wasn't used to fighting.
[b "I'm stronger than I look. Don't hold back on my account,"] he tried to sound confident.
He was a talker, sometimes Kenna zoned on what he was speaking, of course voices held no charm for her. She felt only what was inside. Contemplating on what to say she walked him over to the gym where it was all fairly standard.
[b "Hey, whatever helps with your powers,"] Kenna shrugged. She wouldn't be one to complain about what worked. Looking at the punching bag she looked back to him. [b "Any of this gets repeated or whatever, I will hurt you. Before I had any idea that this was happening to me...I had a hard time with family and about my abilities. I was an angry person."]
Picking out some gloves and other gear that would fit him she handed it to him, not looking to him while she was doing this. [b "As I told you I was attacked more than once so I decided I needed lessons. I took up kickboxing and believe it or not it centers me. So maybe...it can help you find that control and release. Couldn't hurt, yeah?"]
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