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"Hrrk!" Brooke Wyngarde groaned as she took a hit to her sternum and stumbled back, falling on her bottom quite ungracefully. She glared up at the masked Friends of Humanity thugs that the Danger Room had generated for her to fight and rose to her feet again. This wasn't easy. Or fun. For years, Brooke had been content to simply use her mutant powers when danger arose, but she'd been told time and again by Rachel that she needed to do more, that she needed to be able to take care of herself in case something ever happened to her powers - mutant power dampeners, or a reality warper going crazy and trying to wipe all mutants from reality.
So, here she was, dressed in one of the standard navy blue and gold X-Men uniforms, her hair pulled up in a ponytail, failing miserably against hard-light holograms masquerading as humans.
And they were programmed to completely ignore her powers, so Brooke had no choice but to fight like some sort of heathen ninja.
This is why they funnel the souls of us delicate society roses into hardened Asian bodies, Brooke surmised. They were meant to yank out two swords and go to town on villains. It's in all of their movies.
Still, Brooke scrambled to her feet and took up what she assumed was a defensive posture. It was, technically. If one was defending oneself from a game of dodgeball.
One of the Friends - hilarious in this context, that - made a move for Brooke before she could do anything more, and two of his comrades moved behind her and grabbed her by each arm. She was, for all intents and purposes, captured. The one heading towards her pulled out a taser gun, and Brooke's eyes widened. These were hard-light holograms, yes, but that was going to hurt like hell. Frantically, she tried to recall maneuvers she'd seen Psylocke, Elektra, and Kitty Pryde perform in the videos that Rachel had forced her to watch. All that came to mind were poor choices in costume and Psylocke continuously rambling on about the focused totality of her telepathic power or something.
In short, nothing helpful.
Closing her eyes, Brooke took in a deep breath and lashed out with a kick, coming up short.
Funny how that happened when you didn't have four inches of designer shoe strapped to your foot.
The taser shot out and Brooke held in a scream but...nothing happened.
Suddenly, there was nothing holding on to her arms and Brooke fell again.
She opened her eyes. The holograms were gone. The program had been shut down.
She scrambled to her feet and looked up expectantly at the monitoring room. Her teacher for the day, Brooke was sure, would have tons to say about her poor performance today.
Well. Some people simply weren't meant for physical altercation.
So, here she was, dressed in one of the standard navy blue and gold X-Men uniforms, her hair pulled up in a ponytail, failing miserably against hard-light holograms masquerading as humans.
And they were programmed to completely ignore her powers, so Brooke had no choice but to fight like some sort of heathen ninja.
This is why they funnel the souls of us delicate society roses into hardened Asian bodies, Brooke surmised. They were meant to yank out two swords and go to town on villains. It's in all of their movies.
Still, Brooke scrambled to her feet and took up what she assumed was a defensive posture. It was, technically. If one was defending oneself from a game of dodgeball.
One of the Friends - hilarious in this context, that - made a move for Brooke before she could do anything more, and two of his comrades moved behind her and grabbed her by each arm. She was, for all intents and purposes, captured. The one heading towards her pulled out a taser gun, and Brooke's eyes widened. These were hard-light holograms, yes, but that was going to hurt like hell. Frantically, she tried to recall maneuvers she'd seen Psylocke, Elektra, and Kitty Pryde perform in the videos that Rachel had forced her to watch. All that came to mind were poor choices in costume and Psylocke continuously rambling on about the focused totality of her telepathic power or something.
In short, nothing helpful.
Closing her eyes, Brooke took in a deep breath and lashed out with a kick, coming up short.
Funny how that happened when you didn't have four inches of designer shoe strapped to your foot.
The taser shot out and Brooke held in a scream but...nothing happened.
Suddenly, there was nothing holding on to her arms and Brooke fell again.
She opened her eyes. The holograms were gone. The program had been shut down.
She scrambled to her feet and looked up expectantly at the monitoring room. Her teacher for the day, Brooke was sure, would have tons to say about her poor performance today.
Well. Some people simply weren't meant for physical altercation.