A Promised Training Session

March 16, 2014: Mimic takes Lunair to the Danger Room to put her through her paces.

Mostly in Xavier's Danger Room

A simulation of Brood infested Manhattan.



Mood Music:

Macy's roof is one of Cal's favorite places to just hang out while waiting for whatever. It's central, it's in Times Square, and the view is great of the great white way. It also has good cell phone reception and his burner phone has five bars. Given spring is on the way and the sun is bright while the weather is warm, it's just about perfect. Lunair gave him contact info and today he's decided to use it. He dials. "Mimic here." he says when someone answers.

Ringringring… BANANARCHY PHOOOOOOOONE. Lunair has a silly ring tone, but she answers shortly. Pause. "Hello there, Mimic! How are you?" She has good phone manners, at least. It would seem Lunair is in her apartment and having some sort of ungodly sweet pastry from the 7th ring of diabetic hell. She stops for now (eating on the phone - eww, gross noises), tilting her head.

"Good." Mimic answers, idly watching the foot traffic below. "How about meeting me somewhere? Your choice, I'll come to you."

"Good to hear! And sure. Ummm…" Lunair is thinking. "I'm not too picky. Have you eaten? Does this need to be somewhere open or somewhere quiet?" She asks, now that Lunair thinks of it.

"Let me rephrase that then. Pick a place where I can come get you. I thought we'd test the limits of your abilities." There's a smile in Mimic's voice that might be audible. He's amused.

Lunair ohs softly. She smiles behind the phone. "Okay. I can come to the park. That's close to you and not too far from me," She's reasonably considerate. Dazedly quirky and catching up to the rest of the world, Lunair is - Lunairish.

"Everywhere is close to me." Mimic points out. "As close to you as you feel comfortable with is what matters. The park is fine if that's what you want. I'll meet you there."

"Oh, right. The blinky." Yes. Lunair remembers now. It floods back. "Sure. I should walk a little before I try to go all out, anyway," Lunair considers. "See you there." Beam. Wait. She's talking on a phone, oops.

There's no answer and the line goes dead a moment later. Mimic ports to the park then finds a comfortable spot high in the branches of a tree that provides a good view in order to avoid being a spectacle. There's a lot of people out and about on one of the first nice days in a long time.

Well, then. Lunair will make her way over. She's dressed in pants and a shirt, opting out of her usually painfully frilly garb. It's as if some days, she got attacked by a bunch of gothic Lolita lady gaga fans. But today, she looks kind of normal - thousand yard stare aside. She enjoys her walk over, and how the park's plants seem to fight valiantly towards the sun. Now, where is that Mimic? Her path takes her towards his tree.

That Mimic is beside Lunair once he spots her. "Afternoon. So, are you feeling up for this? I'll warn you, what I have in mind is likely to be a bit intense. Though you'll be as safe as you want to be."

Suddenly, a wild Mimic appears! Lunair's eyes widen and she freezes a moment. "Oh hi! Hello." Pause. "Sure. I will give it a shot," Nodnod. "I can but try. Um. Should I have grabbed my armor?" Headtilt. "Oh well. It'll be more interesting on sudden death mode." Yes.

"It wouldn't hurt." Mimic agrees but then nods as Lunair decides to do without. "If you change your mind, some can be provided." And then the park is replaced by what looks like a Star Trek holodeck. "Before you ask, we call it the Danger Room." He already reserved it for this purpose and cleared Lunair's visit. Given she'll never see anything but the Danger Room, security isn't really an issue. And who knows, maybe she'll end up being a recruit. "A programmable training area with some very high tech defenses built in. So don't worry about breaking anything." More powerful mutants have tried and failed. "Do you want armor?"

"Hmm. Okay. I just didn't want to keep you any longer than needed." But then she listens. Her eyes widen. "I - okay." She boggles. "Yeah, maybe I should." Lunair looks a bit surprised by all of it. She glances around. "It is kind of you to do this for me." And Lunair probably isn't the most uber metahuman around (or would she be a mutant sans treatment? Hard to say!). Still, she goggles a bit at it all. "Neat."

"We'll make this organic. You want armor, you need to go get some." Mimic gives her a grin then says "Computer, Brood level one." There's a shimmering and the room transforms into Times Square. A deserted Times Square with derelict, husks of cars, papers blowing in the wind and almost utter silence. Lunair and Mimic are standing in a shadowed alleyway. "Program alteration: stock the 35th street precinct with riot gear. Run program." To Lunair, he says "The Brood are an alien, spacefaring race. The propagate by implanting hosts with eggs that hatch inside them and become brood. Earth was invade and lost. You're one of the last humans left alive. If you want armor, go get some."

Organic? Like life? Lovingly tended to veggies? Uh oh. "Oh." Lunair's eyes widen as Mimic gives her a grin. She pauses. Okay. Times Square all post apocalyptic. Interesting. She glances around. Then she looks to Mimic, horrified. "Geez." She clearly does not like the idea of aliens infesting people one little bit. "So, armor at the police station." Pause. The idea of legitimately invading a police station amuses and horrifies her somehow. "Okay, then. I guess - it's running now…?" She should probably prepare. And she does! Surely enough, out of nowhere, an AAR-12 and an alarmingly high powered rifle appear. For now, she slings the rifle over her shoulder and holds the shotgun. "Okay." She can do this. "I wonder if plasma or lasers might work better… but we'll see."

Mimic makes a clear 'do as you will gesture' and takes a step back to make clear it's her show. "There's one goal. Stay alive. There are few races in the universe that could be called pure evil. The Brood are one of them so don't feel like you need to hold back." As far as advice goes, he offers nothing more. "The computer already knows I'm not a participant." he adds. Meaning Lunair is going to get all the attention.

Now presenting, the Lunair show! Lunair nods. She looks around then. A faint frown on hearing that. "That's good and bad," She remarks. That could say something about her. On one hand, there is something that could be said for going all out with one's powers. On the OTHER… Oh well. She takes a deep breath and keeps her shotgun hefted. Time to mark a path towards the precinct, then. She moves easily amidst the cover as best as she can. Lunair is squishy, so moving quickly and quietly is the name of the game. Every so often, she peeks up over something - a flipped car - to look for Brood.

And lo, coming out of a building is one now. She isn't sure the wisdom of a less than silent gun, so the shotgun vanishes in lieu of a medium sized plasma gun. The Brood and her both seem sort of surprised when the Brood chap spots her and it's plasma gun time! Pew- no wait, what noises DO those things make?

Two things might surprise Lunair once she fires. First, the six foot insect is surprisingly quick and the distance between them gave it enough time to dodge the blast. This second is that it flies which is why lets it dodge the blast by jumping up and flying over it. Over it and toward Lunair, tentacles extended toward her and jaws open wide. Fresh meat! There's been so little of it lately.

Why did she has to be born delicious? And made of meat? Seriously, does humanity really, in fact, taste like chicken? Who found that out? And holy cow. Lunair looks more than a little startled as it's flying towards her, tentacles out and jaws open wide. She's probably seen this on the internet somewhere, and it NEVER ENDS WELL. Her eyes widen as it's coming over. Thinking quickly, she pulls a grenade, yanks the pin out and chucks it into the thing's awaiting tentacles and jaws. Rather than backpedal, she moves off to the side and forward. All the better to try to take a potshot from the side.

The Brood has a thick, armored hide but few creatures are armored on the inside. The grenade explodes inside it with a muffled WHUMP. It'll give Lunair a hint of what she's up against when it doesn't ends up shredded. Instead, the armored hide contains the blast and it just falls to the ground dead. But whole. One down, an entire planet full to go.

And swallowing a grenade is rarely healthy for any species. Her eyes widen. It wasn't shredded. Not in the slightest. Oh geez. A look of horror and realization. Okay then. The plasma gun and rifle are gone. In their place is an alarmingly large (did she yank the thing off a mech?), slender white laser cannon. Pure energy might hurt them. It's nearly as big as she is, but likely made of lighter materials. Slung over her shoulder, she keeps it and a - really cute staff with an orb that has cat's ears and a tail with her. What the heck does THAT do? She feels uncertain, but her path goes onwards towards the precinct, ever cautious. Although, she hopes that one wasn't too popular with its friends. Peer. Walk. Peer. And then, audible creaking and scritching. What kind of noises do these things make normally, anyway? Is that them?

"Computer, level two." Mimic says. Lunair had her intro. The noise? A feral cat leaping out of a dumpster where it was hiding from the Brood. There's lots of feral animals in the city and they make good snacks. It's obviously not a threat. The two Brood flying over the buildings are.

Kitty! Poor kitty. Lunair pauses. "Go hide, kitty." Lunair has a great soft spot for animals. Especially the fuzzy, cute ones. And then she remembers a great action movie adage. Look /up/. There's often Russian spies, ninjas and aliens up there. Today, it's aliens. And now there are two flying up over the building. She's going to have to work quickly and carefully, without overloading herself. Think Luna, think. Maybe she can ambush one and grenade the other. Those things are /fast/ though. But it's all she's got. So she sets up the alarmingly large laser cannon, and waits for one to come into aim. A few sparks of light dance over the end of the barrel and a huge, white laser cuts through the air from below.

But she'll have to wait to deal with the next one, and fire another shot.

Energy weapons are much more effective. And lasers travel literally at the speed of light. Good thinking, Lunair! But it only killed one of them and the entire world is over run. There's another flying closer and who knows how many she can't see?

Lasers! Okay, Luna's onto something here. And she really tries not to think about the unseen legions nearby. Really. Though, she glances around her out of habit, she has one barreling at her at full face-eatin' tilt. She's not sure the grenade gambit is going to work a second time, but she can at least pull one and (yes, pull the pin first) and chuck it up towards the incoming Brood. Scampering to the side, she'll try a quick laser. Pew!

The grenade gets batted away with a tentacle but it at least distracted the Brood from the laser. It tries to dodge too late and one wing is crisped, causing it to crash to the ground. It leaps to its feet though and charges Lunair. "You won't escape, human. The queen is on her way and soon you'll be one of us. Your power will benefit the Brood."

Tentacles are the worst. They really are. Awesomely dextrous and powerful. It's a losing combo sometimes. Lunair eeps as it charges. Right, still mobile. She can practically drag the gun along and scamper out of the way. It's a close call and she can all but feel the wind going by. The sparks dance along the end of the cannon and there's a laser noise as it fires off again.

The brood is close enough to attack Lunair with a tentacle before it gets crisped. The powerful laser goes right through its thorax and it dies. "Computer, level four." Mimic says from the side of the street where he's been watching. What happened to level three? "It's too late to hide. They're telepathic with their queen and know you're here. Push yourself." This is probably good advice since Lunair can see a queen charging down the street. Even though she's 4 blocks away, it's obvious she's larger, larger than the six flyers above her.

Eek! Lunair manages not to get tentaowned, at least. Wait. What. Oh geez. Lunair was just going to get some armor, not hide. There's a difference! She's not awesomely Mimic Level Tough(TM). But she is pretty agile, even with her giant laser gun. She's gonna have to push herself after all. And there's a huge queen charging down the street. Think… big! Thinking quickly, she throws explosives into and onto nearby cars, twirling the thin wire of a detonator. C4. Anywhere she can stick it, she does. They probably know what's going down. But at least she can kind of create an obstacle. That said, the open air is the most dangerous place.

Time to locate to a nearby overhang. A metal one or something sturdy enough to weather a Brood Assault. She calls a few grenades, keeping her giant gun and staff at hand. She's exerting herself a lot, and moves to take aim and see if she can bother or pick off the Brood as they charge from her cover. O cover, please hold. She wonders if a bigger gun might do it, but too slow and too unwieldy is bad. A second, large gun is placed out. There, alternate while one charges.

Do awnings and scaffolding count? There's lots of those. Not many large overhangs. At the flash of light, the brood take evasive action and the queen actually picks up a subcompact to use as a shield. They might look like insects but they're intelligent and learn from encounters. The queen knows what happened to her spawn and she's directing the others as they draw closer.

She'll try for one of those, at least. Lunair frowns, looking concerned. Right. Very intelligent. Adaptive. She's definitely got to think. Leaving the guns she has, and the explosives in cars around her as they are (when they get into range, she'll detonate them safely away from her), she thinks a moment. There is something she might try. Keeping her cat staff in hand, she gets a portal gun. Opening it in front of her and yanking several grenade pins, she throws them in and opens a second portal to the side of the incoming swarm. Hopefully it does something.

It does something. It knocks the queen over and the blast scatters the flyers. They obviously werent' expecting that. But normal grenades have a limited effect on them given their armor and they're soon heading toward Lunair again though this time even more spread out.

Phew. Although, that's not good. Lunair's going to need more. Lots more. Frustration surges through her. Why. Won't. They. DIE!? Growl. Lunair is miffed. She has to think fast. She has to think /faster/. Lunair has to think of the biggest, nastiest laser she can. To reflect it. To - wait. Maybe. Stop. There IS a portal on the side of something and somethings can be used as weapons. Namely, falling debris from a building. Although, it's going to take more than a mere grenade. Gathering her thoughts, she realizes she's going to have to do more than just AoE.

Taking a rocket launcher to a shoulder, she's feeling a bit warm from all of these weapons. She's sweating, actually. It seems she can't do ICBMs. Science weapons are no problem, though. And this rocket launcher is vicious, aimed at a building across the street.

The rocket explodes against the side of the building with an earth shattering explosion that sweeps over the Brood, knocking the queen over and sending flyers crashing to the ground and into the buildings on the other side of the street. And then the building collapses partially, that entire side falling down and outward. Two of the flyers are crushed beneath rubble and the queen as well. As the smoke starts to clear, there's a vibration in the rubble as the queen struggles to free herself. Most of the remaining flyers swoop in to help while one flies directly at Lunair like a good kamikaze.

Okay. That's a start. Lunair wipes a bit of sweat away from her eyes. How long can she keep this up though? And now she has one flying directly at her. This danger room think /is/ pretty hard core. She's racking her brain, some quiet warning about only fighting easy prey leading to a lazy lion haunting her. Right, right. No time to complain about it. She has one coming right at her. It's probably going to dodge if she shoots. But she buys her time, dropping a portal beneath her feet and some distance away a second one. Maybe a laser shot from behind.

The Brood flyer passes right through the spot Lunair was just seconds after she portaled out. Too late to break, it crashes against the wall of the building which makes it an easy target for the laser. The smell of cauterized flesh and scales waft down the street as it dies. Victory is short lived though as one of the queen's arms is shoved up through the rubble. She's not going to be buried for long, especially with her spawn working to free her. And… down the street. Are those more of them? She's called for reinforcements.

Phew. Lunair is breathing pretty hard. And aw, nuts. More reinforcements. "How long does this go on?" Boggle. She's concerned. She's not really sure how long she can keep going. But she's holding up well, so far - all things considered. Right about now she is TOTALLY jealous of the dudes who got super soldier stuff. Really. But the queen is coming out and so are her friends. Lunair's GOT to think. Of something. Hmm. She needs to take advantage of the queen not being up yet. And it looks like it's barrage time. She's feeling a bit warm inside, sweating. But it's time to take it TO THE LIMIT.

Without dramatic music mind. She's got a laser gun, and explosives. Both are going to rain down upon the rubble and the drones and she's just doing her best to imitate a flurry, a hailstorm. But she's starting to feel hot all over. "I don't - know …" Really, it is a pretty mind boggling amount of weapons and matter she's created. She just really needs to work out more. Sooooooomeone needs a new work ethic.

"They control the entire planet." Mimic points out. It goes on forever. But Lunair is starting to get the idea. Hit hard, hit fast and don't worry about collateral damage. After all, they control the entire planet. And it's working. Between the laser and the explosives, some of the brood are dying. All are hurt. Ironically, the rubble is helping protect the queen and the reinforcements are coming full barrel on her orders. "Computer, pause." Mimic says and then in his hands are a large tank with a hose attached which he extends. "Try this. You need to think more outside the box."

Pause. A large tank with a hose attached? Lunair looks baffled. She nods to Mimic. "I see. I understand," She smiles faintly. She looks like she's getting tired. "Yeah, it's hard to think a lot today. I really underestimated your thingy." Oh, Lunair. "I'll try this. Wait. Is this a flamethrower?" She peers at it. Some sort of chemical weapon? Well, regardless, she's got them hurt and will go forth and- try this. She's got to think EVEN MORE outside the box. This is a challenge.

"Something like that." Mimic agrees. "Computer, continue program."

Something like that. something like. Think outside of a box. Lunair has been out of the box pretty well so far. But let's kick it up a notch. Portal on the floor… portal towards or into the rubble, if she can angle it. Either way. It's flamin' time! Or chemical time! She fires the thing into the portal. Rawr! She is definitely abusing those portals. But truthfully, it gives her a lot more angles in battle.

When Lunair fires it, she discovers it's not just a flamethrower. It's napalm. Which not only slips through the cracks in the rubble but sticks to everything that touches it. The roars of pain match the smell of charring flesh. Armor helps of course but there's the eyes, the mouth and other tender bits that once initially exposed can't be unexposed. As they burn, Mimic can't help but smile. "Explosions are all well and good but there's so much else."

Napalm flamethrower. Huh. So fire DOES hurt everything in the universe. She seems surprised. "Oh, I know! I like fire and light sabers… I guess it's easy to lock up in panic," Lunair considers. Yes. But for now, she is going to use the napalm and flamethrower against the others as she can. "I don't know if a Dubstep gun would hurt them." Or their pride. But Brood Dubstepping would get five stars on Youtube, surely. "I'm starting to feel kinda feverish though…"

"Then how are you going to save yourself?" Mimic asks. "Forget about this being a simulation. It's real life." And for him, it was. "What's your next step?"

Think. Lunair tilts her head. "Probably to find a way to shake them off or hurt them enough to leave me be for awhile, usually. Or make myself look killed." Yes. She has to get away, hit and run. Think Luna, think. She'll expend the flamethrower. Portal light grenades, stun weapons in front of her and then before dropping more portals amidst it all. Her pattern is random, chaotic. Fleeing. She's going to portal herself away, dismissing the guns left about.

Mimic watches for a minute then nods. "Computer, pause program." Some might consider it eerie the way the flames pause in mid flicker and shrapnel hovers in mid air. "A decent plan. Perhaps a better one would be over there." He points to a storm drain. "Blow that up so it's big enough to fit you. The flyers can't fly in the sewers and the queens are too big."

"Oh hey." Mimic is wise! Also an expert on fighting Brood. Most of Lunair's opponents are … human. It's a whole new ballgame here. Huffing, she takes a deep breath. "That's a good idea." Even if she winces inwardly at the idea of going into sewers. A lot. Ew. "Okay. I'll do that." Nod. She will give his plan a try if they are continuing.

"End program." Seems they aren't continuing. As the Danger Room reverts to its normal appearance, Mimic studies Lunair. "Not bad for a first try. But you need to concentrate more on the unconventional weapons especially when you're fighting for your life. And even when you're not and just fighting regular people or villains. Bullets, grenades and lasers kill. You want to avoid doing that unless it's a situation like this."

Phew. Lunair takes a deep breath and looks over. "I see. Um." Avoid killing. She kind of gives Mimic a quizzical look. "Okay." She'll… try, it seems. "I'll read more things and play more video games, I guess." Smile. "Thank you. It was educational."

"Since you're not limited to real world weapons, that's a very good idea." Mimic agrees. And suddenly, they're on top of Macy's again with a BLINK. "So tell me something, have you considered joining a team of people who use their abilities to help others?"

"Huh? Yeah," Lunair smiles. She looks a little flushed from exertion and boggles. Teleporting. She has GOT to get used to that. "I could try. I don't know much about that." She's a mercenary. Granted…

"So you'll learn." Mimic notes with a shrug. "Everyone has things to learn. Speaking of, are you attending college?" Perhaps Xavier's is the place for her studies and training.

Pause. Lunair looks over and nods. "Part time. It's hard to keep up with," She admits. "I go to New York University," She smiles faintly. "But I enjoy it when I can. And that'strue." She seems unaware of Xavier's at the moment.

Most people are unaware of Xavier's. And that's just how they like it. "Good, education is important. So what do you think about what happened? Are you satisfied with how you did? Did you learn anything?"

Most people are unaware of Xavier's. And that's just how they like it. "Good, education is important. So what do you think about what happened?" Mimic asks. "Are you satisfied with how you did? Did you learn anything?"

Nod. Lunair pauses. "Yeah, not really. And yes." She replies. She seems unhappy with herself, in a way. But she's trying not to turn into a big bag of mope, even though that's precisely what teenagers often /do/. Her brain needs a year or two really. "I guess it's kind of a pain to realize things like that."

"If you've never had any real training, you did very well." Mimic says and he doesn't sound like he's just trying to make her feel better. "Not to mention that the Brood are something that, hopefully, no one on this planet will ever meet. They're even worse in person." Or at level ten and he only took the program up to level four. "When a queen is implanted and then takes over someone with powers, the powers stay. They'd have taken you alive after demonstrating that."

Wince. "I've had some. Mostly mercenary stuff." Read: Shooting people. Not weird, alien horrors. "And yeah… serious. Wait. You've seen them lots before?" She peers over. Then a deep frown. Lunair shivers. "That's not something I care to think about," She admits. "Being taken alive… is the worst. I like living very much but," Frown.

"Once the queen has matured inside its host, the original person is most likely gone forever." At least Mimic hopes so. He remembers everything from when the immature queen took over. One reason he likes watching them burn. "You're done mercenary work? I hope you've chosen your contracts wisely."

Pause. Frownevenmore. "Huh. That's a pretty lousy way to go." She considers. "Some, yes. Usually bothering gangsters, mobs or guarding cargo. It's hard to feel bad for someone who makes a living moving people." She tends to favor those, yes. "… I am afraid of when that part of me dies."

"Better than it not." There's a grim note to Mimic's answer then he shakes his head. "Human trafficking? Yes, they're probably some of the lowest. But they're still human and deserve due justice when possible."

Lunair tilts her head. "If they ever do. It's a cruel, sad system." She shrugs. She seems uncertain. "We'll see." She goes quiet. "Thank you for letting me try this. People seem scared of you when they - it's hard to describe it."

"You're welcome." And Mimic seems to understand what she's saying. "Well, if you're hanging out with mercenaries, I imagine they're find you threatening since you have the advantage over them. Spend time with others with abilities and you're just one of the crowd. Add in a costume and suddenly you're a hero to be admired."

Lunair looks over. "Normal people, too. It's like they can sense a predator." She glances over. But she smiles faintly. "We'll see. I don't know." She doesn't know a lot. "I don't think heroes think much of people like me. Sometimes I care, sometimes I don't." She's not sure which way she'll fall. "Um. I'm rambling. I owe you a tea or something, right?"

Mimic shakes his head but he's smiling. "You owe me nothing. But if you feel that you do, then I'll accept the payment of you really giving serious thought to who you want to be and how you want to make use of your abilities. And I'll note that even if you don't care, that doesn't mean you still can't do what's right."

Hm. "I'll think about it. I really haven't. I've been happy day to day." Lunair doesn't really know. "I do care - mostly. I think." She really doesn't know. She's emotionally stunted in a rather bad way. "I don't know…" What a strange thing not to know.

Mimic considers that rather ambivalent answer. "I know. Let me know when you know too. Shall I send you back to the park or is some place else better?"

Pause. Smile. "Thanks. It's a weird, confusing thing. But you've been awesome and I enjoy chatting." Lunair nodsnods. "So definitely. And um, the park is fine. I think tea. I have to study a bit. But it sounds nice…"

"Enjoy your time. You have my email if you need to get in touch." Mimic gives Lunair a smile and then BLINK. She's in the park with a lot to think about.

"Sure thing! You too!" Lunair smiles back, waving. She does have a lot to think about. That tea, too.

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