ArchivedLogs:Rock On

Rock On
Dramatis Personae Alison, Logan	2013-04-08 Rockin' out.
Location <XS> Danger Room
The room is large and circular, a geodesic hemisphere of hexagonal ceramic panels. It is the Danger Room, and is thus often full of danger, but is presently not in use and is thus remarkably danger-free. Safest room in the school, probably. The stadium is /thumping/, yo. Ten thousand seats, filled with screaming fans, all there to see Lila Cheney rock the mother-lovin' house. And rock it she does. The technopop-slash-punk fusion that is Cheney's trademark sound is loud enough that the rhythm can be felt in one's bones -- not that any of those slam-dancing madly in the audience care about these things. Those that aren't slam-dancing are either swaying to the music, or cheering for something else Cheney is known for: the amazing stage show. Tonight, the stage show seems to be taking place in the mosh pit, where a blonde woman in a blue X-suit with a stylized star on the chest is busy fighting off what /appear/ to be Gammorean guards. Maybe they're on loan from Jabba's Palace. Either way, they're proving just the right amount of challenge for Alison. Her body glows with untapped light as she does most of her fighting hand-to-hand. She smiles as she drives her elbow into a slimy pig nose, and her opponent goes down with a squeal, and when she spins again, it's apparent that she's...singing along? "You stole my heart a galaxy away. You make me want to hide myself away. In a Dyson sphere, away from here. A Dyson sphere...." A grizzled-featured man stands just beside the stage, leaning on some equipment, and watches the glowing woman fight the... whatever they are. The man repeatedly tugs at the collar and cuffs of his black X-Men combat uniform in irritation, but his attention appears to remain mostly upon the woman on the stage. "The things I let people talk me into..." he mutters just loud enough to be heard by anyone nearby. "What's with th' singing? Ya tryin' to charm your--whatever those things are--off their feet? What gives?" Logan, for 'tis he, eyes the 'crowd' with profound disappointment. "If I wanna fight in front of a crowd, I wanna get paid for it at least.--" he stops speaking as one of the porcine humanoids staggers backwards to the edge of the stage and almost topples over on top of the gruff-featured mutant. Obligingly, Logan steps aside and gives the creature just enough of a nudge to put it further off balance. "What d'ya call this... thing again, sweetheart?" "It's...*hnf*...a simulation that's *hrf* based on..." Alison's explanation is broken and punctuated with small, sharp exhales as she lets one of the guards back her towards the stage, thumping her fists into his flabby gut, "...an actual...*/hnf/*...concert I played with Lila." She smiles up over the lip of the stage at Logan, a flash of teeth that disappears as she spins again to plant her foot in the guard's knee. The creature goes down hard, although he's not out. "What's the matter? You don't like music?" Then she's kicking the guard in the face. Now aware of the other participant, the guards split their attention. One guard pulls a wicked-looking axe from his belt, and begins to swing it menacingly as he advances on Logan, grunting something unintelligible. "I believe that one is yours," Alison offers helpfully. "At least, he looks like he knows you." "Hey, don't look at me - they're your boy-toys!" Logan smirks and immediately ducks down into a crouch; the axe sails whistling through empty air where the Wolverine's head used to be. Down on his haunches, Logan takes half a second to consider his next move... ...and promptly jabs the porcine biped sideways in the knee. Then he strikes upward from his crouch with a leg, aiming a kick into the creature's flabby neck. "You... actually did a CONCERT with these things?..." There's another pause in between sentences to allow for another dodge. Logan rolls to the side and gathers himself for a leap onto the stage. "Well, if we get attacked by a bunch of fairytale mutant pigs with bad breath... we're covered--Hey, look out; that sidestep's a feint. He's gonna--" but he doesn't get to finish the sentence, given there are uglies after him now, too... "Oh, no," Alison says, shaking her head as she gives another kick to the guard's face and whirls to face the next one. "Well, yes. I mean, Lila spent a /lot/ of money on the shows that went on around her shows." She shakes her head, and wags her finger at Logan playfully. "And you're the one who agreed to the compromise, since the room was double-booked, so no grousing." Her attention wavers just enough. It's a costly mistake The sidestep eludes Alison even as Logan is warning her, and she catches a meaty ham of a fist directly in her chest, sending her sailing backwards a couple of feet to sprawl at the feet of the still-oblivious crowd. "Thanks," she says as she pushes to her feet, and glaring at Logan without any real heat. Logan would reply, but he is too busy avoiding a very put-out Gamorrean. He slips to the left, jabs, slips back to the right, ducks, sweeps a leg underneath the creature and puts it on its rump. There's a noise like a cross between a broken trumpet and an elephant's whoopie cushion as the Gamorrean's rear lands on the ground. Logan wrinkles his nose and leaps onto the stage - leaving his opponent for the moment to get its wits (if it has any) - and heads for Alison. "Still doin' your TV... thing?" he asks with a smirk (apparently he enjoys watching people try to get out of difficult situation (like hand-to-hand with imaginary pig-monsters!). Alison's mouth pulls tight as her assailant comes at her, and her hands come up, palms out. There's a flash of light that comes out of her palms, a solid column that strikes the guard and sends him sailing back to crash into one of the speakers. Both die in a high-pitched whine; the speaker in an additional shower of sparks. Alison exhales, and fluffs at her hair critically. "I am!" she says brightly to Logan, smiling at the question. "It's doing very well in the ratings." Satisfied her hair is back to showroom quality, she looks around to gauge who's left. A trio of guards remain, all armed with long spears with -- dear gods, let's just call it 'debris', for the sake of the children -- decorating their sharp-looking tips. "How are you liking being an actual teacher?" she asks, indicating that Logan should lock his hands together. "Give me a boost." She jerks a thumb at the ceiling. "Straight up." Logan nods. "One sec--" he holds position for just a second, only to sidestep at the last possible moment as his earlier opponent comes charging behind him (ruined knee and all). The Gamorrean squeals like a stuck pig (or a pig out of control), and goes sailing over the edge of the stage. Something snaps audibly when it hits the ground on the opposite side, but Logan pays it no heed. His hands lock together and he gives Alison a second nod. "Let there be fucking light," he mutters under his breath, a lopsided smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. This should be interestin'... Alison grins a little sharply when the guard goes sailing over the stage, and she leans in as she steps into Logan's hand. "I've been working on this one," she says, popping her eyebrows. "You watch those action flicks with the ninja girls?" When Logan's hand slams her skyward, Alison becomes...a disco ball. Of death. She launches high, twisting her body to begin a slow spiral up, extending her hands palms out. And then there /is/ light, and it slams into the trio, knocking them into a mess of flailing limbs and pig-squeals. Alison manages one more blast for the guard coming to from her face-kicking, and then she lands in a soft (albeit messy) tumble on the stage, rolling until she regains her feet. Then she throws her arms out like a gymnast, wincing a little. "Ta-da!" The grizzled man has to shield his eyes from Alison's little display of discotechnics, but there's no denying the smirk on his lips. That smirk turns into a wolfish grin once he has a chance to survey the 'leftovers' of the simulation. "Not bad... for a celebrity." Gathering his feet underneath him, he leaps off the stage, crossing his wrists in front of his chest - to land in the middle of the groaning trio of pig-men. There's a twin-snikt! sound a half-second later, followed by a two slashes, out to either side and then back again. Three groaning Gamorreans turn into three dead Gamorreans, staining the holographic floor of the simulation. "Yer landin' was a bit messy, but still - ya could teach some o' these kids a thing or two about finesse. As for me, teachin'...?" He pauses to think, letting his claws retract silently. "Yeah. I like it. Just takes the right class - and the right students. Got anything else ya wanna cover, babe?" "I'd be a terrible teacher," Alison says, scrunching her nose as she rolls her shoulder. "It's better that the field team teaches this stuff. I just use it to keep in practice." She winks. "Just in case Mel can't handle something." She lifts her eyebrows. "Thanks for suggesting him, by the way. He's been /fantastic/." The question of continuing gets a shake of her head. "I don't think so. I pulled something in my shoulder on that last roll." She hops lightly off the stage. "Computer, end Dazzler training sequence Cheney-Sigma." The concert futzes, and disappears, leaving the pair in the sudden silence of the empty chamber. "The right students probably do make a difference," Alison says, stretching her right arm over her head. Her left one doesn't quite make it as high. "Buy you a beer?" she offers, then grimaces. "Oh, right. School refrigerator." She shrugs, and offers an apologetic smile. "How about a soda?" "Yeah," Logan says flatly. "Soda... the only real downside to workin' in a school... The Prof only lets me get away with so much..." Heaving a sigh that is more rueful than disappointed, the man stretches his neck from side to side - making an awfully loud crick...crack sound, and finally nods to Alison. "Soda, it is." He glances upward and around at the Danger Room itself, and his face cracks a smirk. "I gotta tell ya about some o' the other things this baby can do. C'mon..." Motioning with a hand toward the exit, Logan bobs his bushy eyebrows at the woman beside him, and slowly starts walking. "I'll tell ya about a sim with a kid who figured out my safety-protocols override command and nearly got us... yeah, you can guess..."