ArchivedLogs:Unfinished Business

Unfinished Business
Paths to Choose, and a Score to Settle
Dramatis Personae Logan & Dante	May 2, 2013 Logan is restless. Dante is restless. Both are warriors. Both are men trying to make their way in a gentle corner of a far more ruthless world (that corner being Xavier's School). Both have witnessed a recent tragedy, and both have failed to bring the culprit to justice. And that failuer weights heavily upon them. In the Danger Room - a simulated dojo - Logan and Dante must come to terms with what they are doing... and what needs to be done.
Location <XS> Danger Room - B2
Those stepping through the security door into the holographic training facility known as the Danger Room would find themselves amid the peaceful surroundings of a Japanese dojo, situated atop a cliff overlooking a green valley below. Logan stands in the centre of the out-door sparring circle, staring out over the cliff and trying to enjoy the simulated breeze. Hard to do, when one knows it is a simulation. The exit opens directly onto the ring, whilst the building structures form a backdrop opposite the cliff. The overall feel of the place? Solitude. The dojo appears to be inaccessible by anything other than air-transport (if it were real), and has the 'world' at its feet. Logan, dressed only in slacks (i.e. barechested and barefoot), flexes his arms and cracks his neck from side to side. He has spent much time down in the Danger Room for the last couple of days, cancelling any other teaching sessions with him, until further notice. But he is expecting someone this evening. The soft bamboo floor of the entrance steps bend and creak slightly with the sound of booted footsteps approaching slowly. Dante looks to and fro, admiring the constructed beauty of the Japanese scenery, a soft, generated wind flowing through his long brown hair. He smiles calmly, feeling the sense of serenity overwhelm him as he approaches the small ring. As he steps onto the coated floor, he bows low, taking his first step onto the floor and bending down to remove his shoes. He unlaces his boots and places them near the entrance, when his eyes lay upon Logan's backside. "Thanks for agreeing to see me, Logan. I know it's been a little longer than either of us expected," he says softly, his voice slightly breathy. He drops a large duffel bag next to his boots, and unzips it slowly, pulling the flap open on the bag. When he was told to meet at the danger room, he had a feeling to bring some form of workout gear...it WAS a training area after all. Logan snorts - but not at Dante. He doesn't turn around, but remarks whilst staring into the distance: "Yeah. Well... life's like that, ain't it." Then he finally turns to give Dante a look. "I ain't exactly in th' best mood fer talkin', but if it's gonna be easier anywhere, it'd be here. No kids." He motions to the simulation, his hand pausing at some weapons lying on the ground near where he had dumped his shirt, hoodie and boots. "Didn't know whatcha wanted for a spar, so...I raided the armory - all melee, training weapons - unless you wanna go at hand-to-hand. Your call. Where ya been anyway?" Dante smirks slightly, perusing the cashe with his eyes, as he changes into a pair of white Gi pants, carefully unfolding his old Karate uniform before sliding into it, tying the black belt around his waist expertly. Well, black except for a small red stripe on the tail ends of the belt, and golden Kanji that read "Sensei." "Took your advice...spent some time with Jillian here and there where I could. I found her grandparents, she's staying with them at the moment. Found my old friend Crown Royal for a while..." his voice trails off for a moment, before changing the subject as he walks over towards the pile of weapons. He bends down to one knee, grabbing two wooden bokkens, and waits until Logan's attention was fixed enough on him, before tossing him one of the weapons and smiling slightly. "I heard you were pretty deadly with Iaido... I wouldn't mind a bit of schooling. It's been years since I've taken up the sword...would you mind?" he asks, gripping the handle and feeling the weight of the wooden sword in his palm... The Wolverine catches the tossed practice sword and instantly settles into an opening stance. He smirks. "Can't remember the last time I used one o' these," he remarks blandly. There's a rueful edge to his voice that he might be telling the truth. Sort of. "Glad to hear about Jillian. Ya look like yer doin' well after that attack." He face drops into a scowl. "Never did catch the bastard responsible..." He trails off, glowering visibly and then points the sword at Dante. "You remember the kata?" he asks. "Start with the first form and work your way through; get a feel for the thing before we start crossin' blades - heh, even wooden ones. Good to see ya again, anyway. This might be m'last chance to do this stuff 'ere..." Logan snorts and an instant swings his bokken in a graceful arc, commencing his own progression through the forms. Dante nods slightly as Logan speaks, his eyebrow raising slightly at his last comment. He pauses for a moment, his mouth opening to speak, but thinking better of it...perhaps something to dwell on later...but now was not the time. He takes a slow breath in, taking one knee and shifting the blade within his belt. He closes his eyes, his breathing slow and calculated, as he concentrates the energy stored within his own body. It seems as if the hologram of the room fades slightly, bending with a faint blue light as Dante opens his eyes and moves, swiftly drawing the weapon from his belt and launching into a series of motions. He moves with surprising speed, his fluid motions reminiscent of an ancient dance. His moves ebb and flow like rushing water, his strikes thrust forward, licking the air like a flame, quite a beautiful display. Surely to the well trained eye, there are some missteps here and there. A number of minor flaws in his stance, his footwork, and a slightly shaky hand from unfamiliarity and years of style rust. But altogether a very captivating series of movements. Logan smirks at Dante, approval in his gaze - but he does not speak. His movements with the bokken are purposeful, direct - each one practiced and deliberate, and seemingly without concentration. The mind may not remember where and how he learned these techniques, but the body does. It is one of the rare moments when the Wolverine actually looks half-content, the man instead of the monster. Each form is timed to coincide with Dante's, causing each sword-motion to blend together in weaves that grow more intricate as they progress. Partnered iaido, in this way, is potentially more dangerous for both practitioners as one mistake (with a real katana) can cost one's partner a hand, or a head. Fortunately, these two are using bokken (wooden swords), and the few mistakes Dante makes only cost Logan a rapped blade here and there. He eyes the energies exuding from Dante with curiosity, and admiration. Of the two of the (despite his few mistakes), Dante is the dancer; Logan, the old soul - his blade an extension of it. Both of them... warriors. Logan refrains from speaking until he has at least completed his kata, and waits for Dante to be ready to talk - or fight. There's a look in his eye that suggests he might be happy to just do this all day, if he could. This exchange goes on for a number of minutes...but within Dante's mind, it could have lasted for hours, and he too would be content. There were very few things that both excite Dante, and calm him, center him. Drinking is one of those things. Smoking is another. Picking up ladies...yet another...All of these things, certainly not the most HEALTHY of outlets, either physically or in some cases, mentally. But of all his joys, fighting is probably the one that centers him the most, makes him feel the most at ease. Reminds him of a simpler time in life, and of the simplicity of life itself; when all is said and done, life could boil down simply to the intricacies of one on one combat. There are the strong and the fast, the smart and the instinctive...there is rage, serenity...but at the core of it all, there is balance. As the two finish the pre-determined movements, Dante backs off a step, taking another deep, cleansing breath in through his nose. It seems, for now, he is content to continue. "If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer a little more...hands on training..." He says with a slight smile, a faint light emanating slowly from his body, a light blue pulse of his energy rippling around him. After a moment of silence, he takes a step, then two, pivoting slightly to face the Wolverine, before bowing low, keeping his eyes fixed on his partner. Then, his smile fading, his eyes relaxing into a sort of blank stare, he raises his weapon slowly, his grip tightening on the handle, the tip of the bokken pointed directly at Logan's chest. "Yeah." Logan gives his head a nod and steps back into a similar position. He waits two heartbeats, his chest expanding with each breath, and then lunges on the third exhalation. It is merely an experimental, opening move - one fully expected to be blocked as he steps in with it and prepares for a counter. "You miss this much?" he asks in between breaths. "The kids. The training?" His motions with the sword are hardly 'slow', but neither are they particularly rushed. Everything, from his breathing to his foot-work and each attack is merely 'just so'. An attack is an attack, and will connect if not countered or dodged. Logan's eyebrow arches at Dante's energy-display. "Cute light-show, bub." The attack is, in fact, blocked. At least, the initial attack is. Speed certainly was not an issue, especially with Dante's Chi being focused into his physical abilities. Along with the boost to his own speed, it always seemed to heighten his perception as well, able to react much more quickly than even some of the most skilled fighters he's ever met. However, speed means nothing without the knowledge and innovation of technique...which Dante did NOT posess at the same level as Logan. Thus, he could not have concieved of the counter attack that was planned. The counter strike hit him squarely in the ribs, causing him to grunt slightly in pain and stagger back a step. Round one: Logan... He smiles slightly as Logan speaks, and he nods slightly. "You have no idea..." With that, he drives in for a second skirmish, thrusting the wooden blade forward, his feet shifting slightly as he puts slightly greater weight upon his hind leg in order to spin around if required. Once more, the blue light emanates, this time among his arms. His movements are much faster than before, but not in a frantic way. If anything, he seems even MORE centered, allowing his body to take over, while his mind takes its turn to respond. "Part of my gift. Gives me strength, like a lifter flexing their muscles." Crack! Crack! Crack!--Grrr! Round Two: Dante. Dante's retaliation for the Wolverine's first blood score comes swiftly and with stinging precision. What the younger man lacks in experience, he makes up for with speed, deftness... and an impressive light-display that has Logan blinking in annoyance. That blink cost him a sharp 'crack' across the thigh, and elicited a growl from the man's throat. "Fair's fair," Logan mutters with a feral grin on his face. "Still gonna cost ya, bub." Moving on from that, he puts more momentum into his next cut - a diagonal strike, sweeping upward from his right leg, to Dante's right shoulder. Connecting or not, he is already stepping diagonally forward to move around Dante and attack with a mirror-image slash from his left. His momentum has him heading into a complete spin for a kill-move... at Dante's neck. The trio of attacks is quick - and aggressive. Time stops. This moment lingers in space, unmoving. Just the two warriors, and the serene Japanese arena surrounding them. Logan's speed seems to match even Dante's in this instant, and suddenly, time speeds up once more. Dante's grin matches that of Logan's as the two move rhythmically with one another, almost completely in sync. Dante's weapon slides upward, parrying the first cut as his body shifts back and to the side. His hips slide quickly, staying square with Logan's base, as his sword meets his opponents once more. His momentum with such a quick strike sends him into a spin of his own, bringing his hands up, his swing like lightning... CRACK!!! The two warriors freeze once again in time, their stances mirrored, their feet planted firmly into the bamboo floor. Dante's smile, which plastered to his face the moment he saw his sword resting upon Logan's throat, faded quickly when he felt the smooth wood of his opponent's own bokken against his own throat... Round 3, Draw... "Hope you weren't bettin' nothin' on this bout, bub," Logan says without moving - but for the predatory smirk upon his face. There is a pause, and he steps backward - the bokken spins in his hands... and somewhere in the flurry of movement, he reverses his grip upon it, and slides the wooden weapon into a make-believe sheath at his side. The duel is over. No winners. No losers. Not this time, anyway. Logan bows formally to his opponent before turning back toward the few training weapons left in the room, and reaches for his shirt. He doesn't put it on right away, but walks back toward Dante with a self-satisfied grin. "Ain't a bad way to go," he says out loud with a 'hey, not bad!' mouth-shrug on his face. "Should do this again sometime, huh?" Dante nods, a glint in his eye indicating his elation to the draw that matches Logan's. He bows alongside his partner, keeping his eyes forward, unwavering on Wolverine's. Skipping the ending formalities of sheathing his weapon, he decides instead to follow Logan to the weapons cache, and place it gently atop the pile. "We should...though that reminds me...you said this may be the last time you get to do this...Why?" he asks after a moment of pause. He turns away slowly, removing his belt and Gi top, taking a knee on the floor and removing his garments, placing the Gi upon the floor and folding it with careful precision. Though he looks not at Logan, his attention is fixed upon him, focusing his thoughts through the adrenaline that still courses through his body from the exhibition. Logan takes a breath and hangs his shirt around his neck, then he spreads his hands low and out to each side. "Look at me, kid," he says with a sardonic twist to his lips. "You really think I look like 'teacher material'? Think about it: me, coaching the local mutant baseball little-league? Gettin' apples from kids in class while I talk on how best to survive a... a... pub-brawl? Or some anti-mutant mugging in an alley? Assigning grades 'n detention?" He shakes his head, his lips mouthing a silent, 'nope!'. "I can teach 'em to be soldiers, survivors mebbe... but they're just kids. 'N me? Me, I gotta few things ta figure out about myself. I dunno... I gotta lot o' respect for the Professor - I don't wanna blow things for 'im." "So...you want me to...take over for you?" Dante blurts out quickly, his gi-folding suddenly the least important thing on his mind. The moment he was allowed onto Xavier's campus, his dream was to teach the Physical Education branch, specifically self defense. Perhaps it was his slight ADHD kicking in, the excitement from the match still fresh in his mind, who knows. All Dante knows is his hand over his mouth the moment after the words escape his lips. The awkward moment of silence lasts a little longer than Dante would like, as he nervously finishes folding his gi...the last folds a little more haphazard than he'd normally like. He grabs his jacket, and reaches into the pocket for a cigarrette. He produces two, holding one up for Logan, before speaking once more. "Look, I understand needing to take care of personal things like the next guy..." He sighs slightly, before continuing. "...What can I do. I mean, I could take up your classes if you need to get away for a bit...I could...come with you, if you needed...I could..." he pauses, his voice trailing off once more, before sighing again helplessly, placing the cigarette atop his ear, suddenly remembering that they weren't ACTUALLY on a Japanese cliftop, but instead within the school basement... Logan shrugs. Takes the cigarette. Tucks it behind his ear. "I dunno yet. I gotta talk with the Professor about some... stuff. Just stuff. Don't know what I'm gonna do after that - probably go chasing some ghosts." He stops talking to pull on his shirt and then walks without a word back to his other gear. The man dons his leather jacket, and sits down to pull on his socks and boots. Whilst dressing, he adds: "You might regret the offer if you did come along." Logan's upward glance at Dante is... cryptic, warning. Deadly serious. "I've already tried once, and came up empty - I may just hang around here and save myself some wasted effort." He speaks 'wasted effort' with a slight grunt as he puts on his boots. "There's that fucking terrorist out there, still, ya know. The fire. Never caught him... I don't like leavin' shit un-done, ya know what I mean?" He stands; straightens his jacket. Sensing Logan's unease, Dante smiles slightly, attempting to diffuse the situation slightly. He laces his own boots, standing up and allowing Logan to walk ahead of him, hoping to follow him outside the ground...God, he could use a smoke. "I rarely regret any decision I make, Logan. I've heard more stories about this terrorist...I understand not leaving things unfinished. And I mean ABSOLUTELY no disrespect...but maybe you could use help...this time..." Dante continues: "What is it they say? Two heads are better than one? Four fists are better than two?" Hmph. Logan snorts. "You gotta score ta settle too, yeah..." he replies evenly. "I know." The man gathers up the remaining weapons to place them back with the rest of the training gear. He glances up at the 'sky' and to the side at the 'valley' and lets loose a sigh. "Ya may have a point. Yeah, well... I guess we'll see. I'm not gone yet; made some other promises I plan in keepin'. I'm not used to bein' torn between places - or having a place to begin with." He shifts his gaze from Dante to the room. "Computer: end sim, and log recording for further evaluation. Password: samurai. C'mon, let's grab a drink or something..." END LOG.