2012-11-13 Ambush Tactics

It's early evening, the Rec Center closed after the Adult Computer Class and Work Training class has ended. Once the doors are closed, Jynn goes about double checking the hours everyone worked today and well things were good. Having double checked the locked doors, Jynn changed and turned on the stereo and the music began to play, in the center of the gym is a beaten up wooden dummy. The music is the old stereo typical kung fu music, but in it's original form. Taking a deep breath, Jynn begins striking and blocking and attacking again. Moving slow at first but then picking up his pace. Those familiar with kung fu would notice this as Wing Chun. Falling into a rythem, Jynn's movements become easy, and fast, the strikes rock the dummy and from the look of the dummy it's old but has still continued to hold up.

It's been a chaotic couple of weeks for Psylocke, to say the least. Criminal careers ended, allegiances made, revelations uncovered. Even without her commitment to Jynn, somehow it all leads back into the rainswept, thoroughly gray Gotham streets-- there's no saying about that, but she's beginning to believe there *should* be. She's also growing tired of being wet. Which accounts for the trenchcoat she's wearing, collar turned up alongside slick purple hair and eyes lidded against the driving patter of filthy droplets.

What it doesn't account for is the veteran merc striding alongside her.

Of all the wonders in this world, it remains truly baffling what a night spent drinking can do to heal wounds and build bridges between acquaintance and enemy alike. Once the ensuing hangover cleared... well, things seemed a touch clearer between the Violet Butterfly and the monochromatic mercenary. There are still things to be settled between them, but trust seems to reign for the moment, indicated in the sly smile one sends to the other through the murk.

"This is the place," Betsy calls through the pulsating pitter-patter, keeping her tone low to avoid carrying inside the rec center - though Jynn's soundtrack may do this job for her. That smile nudges a little higher as she shifts a hand from one pocket, and indicates an alleyway leading behind the locked and barred building. "Come in high, and quiet. Oh, and-- if you fire anything but blanks, this time I won't be *drinking* you onto the floor."

The first rule about a night on the town is: you do not speak about a night on the town. The second rule is something about carrying a big gun where nobody can see it; though this might apply only where Domino is concerned. It might only apply to tonight.

Sparing one last flash of violet eyes, Psylocke is off through the foul weather to the other side of the rec center, her steps growing more stealthy in the few seconds before she's darting in toward the gutter. The first warning anybody inside should have...

Is a dull *thunk* as a ground floor window falls open.

As far as hangovers go, Domino's had worse. Not too often..but it has happened. Betsy here earned herself a new level of respect in her after the two put away as many drinks as they had. It was a weird sensation waking up on the floor of Kwabena's apartment, especially since he only got that place the day beforehand. Killer hangovers and unfamiliar surroundings, way to disorient the hell out of herself.

It's all good, though. Some sacrifices must be made on the path to greatness. Fortunately, Psylocke made the sacrifice of covering the bill. Atta girl.

"Hell, give me -some- credit, Veev," Dom quickly counters. "Even if they weren't blanks, I know how to hit what I mean to, and how to -miss- what should be, so don't go getting your minimalist costume in a bunch."

Icy blue eyes scan the exterior of the building, finding her path up the side where she can get more than a bird's-eye view of their quarry inside, but also get herself some seriously wicked line of sight. High ceiling, rafters, plenty of windows..it'll be fun!

"Oh, and we weren't finished. You want another run at who drinks who under the table, come on back for a rematch."

Drainage pipes, fire escapes, window ledges. The albino swiftly climbs up the exterior of the building, guns, leather trench, armor and all. Let's play.

The music still blaring at the moment, but Jynn isn't too far gone to not notice anything. But then again he is in a big building, his apartment on the top floor with Psylocke would know how to get in and otu of it. The music also loud enough to carry through the building, but still when it comes to training, Jynn doesn't slack.

Moving his arms in small circles as he continues striking and blocking, the sounds of arm, fist hitting the wooden dummy is easily drowned out, but Jynn is able to hear it. His speed increasing as the flow of the music starts picking up it's pace. But suddenly Jynn rolls backwards away from the dummy throwing a high kick and holding it for a moment before lowering his foot, then bring his arms in a clock wise and counter clock wise motion before throwing a double palm strike followed by a knee strike. The movements and style seamlessly changing as he begins another portion of his training. The combination he uses may look lightly flashy but those trained in traditional forms know that htye aren't for show. Throwing a knee strike aimed towards teh high point of the chest, then a elbow strike aimed at the neck. Jynn hops back a step leaning foward, his arms swaying like a leaf on water, he spins and thrust his left leg outwards in a motino to sweep his opponent followed by another spin and thrusting his right palm down towards the chest of the downed person, he steps forward and with a downwards motion he twists his hand downwards and a smoothering motion to finish the movement.

Kwannon's body is perfect for infiltration-- not just because it's so well-trained, tempered further by the dedication of Betsy since finding herself within her powerful shell, but because it *remembers*. All these stealthy motions come as second nature, the thump of the window - unnoticed - only occurring at all through deliberation. It's a warning. A test. Everything else is almost too easy, insofar as getting inside is concerned. Psylocke takes her time only to allow Domino time to get in position and find her own rhythm...

This, to her, is like riding a bicycle. Instinctive and easy.

To *his* immense credit, Jynn is demonstrating martial motions that might almost be called the same; already skilled, their handful of stolen training sessions so far have only sharpened an edge. Flashy, perhaps, but flash has its place. From the shadows, his mentor watches for a few precious seconds, scanning his posture, seeking the telltale chinks in his guard. There aren't many, but all but the absolute best always leave a way in. Particularly when they're alone, inside a locked and barred building. There's a lesson to be learned by most anyone - that sometimes, even the greatest fail to expect company at the most inopportune times.

When Jynn drops downward, twisting into his core to drive that final crushing hold home, that's the precise moment in which Psylocke moves. Her trenchcoat hits the ground with a wet *whump* that resonates beneath the hum of music, the take-off shriek of one heel adding further punctuation to alert the man - in mid-motion - that something's coming. Violet eyes blaze as she strikes, taking a second step to launch the leading leg into a sharply-angled roundhouse kick at shoulder height. The blow snaps like a cobra, the recoil of her striking foot drawing her around and through the eye of the needle into a follow-up blow; harder, more committed, that leg now forming the fulcrum for a one hundred and eighty degree turn.

"Syaaah!!"

With the tight kiai erupting from the kunoichi's throat, she drives her left elbow to catch her pupil in the highest available extremity-- the throat, if he doesn't cover it. The crown of his skull or the centre of his chest if he does. It's not the target that matters...

She's pulling the blow just enough to be painful without being debilitating.

In from up high, Domino traverses the rafters like a sleek black cat stalking its prey. Err..maybe more like a tuxedo feline, given the paleness of fingers and face, alike. She doesn't bother with safety gear or any tether to the metal gridwork around her, relying on nothing more than skill and dumb luck to keep from falling. Between the two, she's in good hands.

Armored legs wrap around the steel beams, boots hooking into cross-sections until the albino mercenary is hanging upside down out in the room, bending backward as she aims through the holosight of a 9mm PDW. Blanks, indeed, though as soon as she lays on the trigger it's going to sound like someone fired up a buzzsaw inside of this place, music or not. Now, to wait for the right moment...

It isn't orchestrated. It isn't planned out. When the right moment comes, Domino knows simply by instinct. With the PDW's sling held taut in outstretched arms, inverted like a demented bat, she makes her own presence known with the cacophonous hammering of the machine pistol filling her hands, now posing as a blowtorch with the flame that issue from its bore. Timely distraction, ho!

The thump is his first indication of something wrong, the second is his left arm stinging and going slightly numb from the kick he just intercepted which still causes him to move back a step which helps in keeping his throat from getting struck. His reflexes far greater then that of a normal human, and Jynn is very thankful to that. But still he was dropped upon and quite easily at that, the music was a bad tough to his training but still it helps him.

He doesn't know about the other woman above them, but as he regains his composure, and singled out the primary attacker, Jynn steps back into hand to hand range. He doesn't make any kiyai's or shouts, all of his motions are done through breaths. Throwing a left haymaker, slow and wide but powerful when it connects, the Violet Butterfly has only seen her student in those few fights, they've been in together and has done a good job of reading him. But this is out of the oridnary even for him. The punch seems wild and unfocused until he spins to her right stopping the haymaker. Drawing in closer to her he whips his right knee out like a jack rabbit dashing through a forest to elude the wolf. Upon that he snaps his left elbow in towards Psylocke's right shoulder. Aiming to primarily to slow her. HIs eyes catching the sight of the woman, but still she is here to probably test him and he isn't failing the test. Well he isn't going to try anyways.

That reflexive edge is impressive, certainly; but Jynn's quick thinking is what really negates the second strike. Psylocke follows through with it regardless, her elbow's tip cleaving oxygen in twain as she aims a breathless grin over the top of her extended arm. The other hovers ready beside the left side of her face, forming a guard for anything that should come rattling over the top - Wing Chun is apt at nothing if not counter-striking, and she's ready for that. A rapid backfist or a two-knuckled punch-- even an inside crescent kick.

A haymaker is rather less expected, her eyes widening momentarily before she pulls back, continuing the rapid snap-in of her twisted foot to turn about again. Her elbow recoils inward, the guarding arm whipping out high and wide to catch the incoming blow across a tensed wrist. A simultaneous rotation of her forearm dispels most of the energy from Jynn's attack...

At least, his first attack. It's a feint. She's not *reading* him, but she sees that now.

"Good!" It comes without clarity, rushed out in the outtake of breath that sees her soften to receive the knee into her midsection, yielding to it rather than attempting to resist. It jars across her flank, her form twisting lithely against his - the third, seeking blow consequently meeting that same full-form rotation. A shoulder can deflect an elbow, placed right; and she's enough ahead now that she manages exactly that, dropping away as she does, dropping down.

Domino makes herself known, the flare of ambushing flame serving a distraction as Psylocke thrusts her reversing palm into the floor and uses it as foundation for a wide sweep of her left leg, aiming to catch Jynn behind his own left knee and send him crashing to the floor.

"Lesson one: always be ready," she grunts, pulling herself back into a ready crouch, guard up.



"I'm really not," Domino mutters after burning through half of the extended magazine's capacity. It worked as a distraction but she's still got work to do. Jynn can't keep tabs on both of the women at the same time without letting his guard down, and she needs to come up with some different tricks to keep things exciting. With the PDW slung she swings out to the side, catches a nearby rafter, and starts vaulting from one to the next to put herself within a different vantage point.

Sure, she could always lay on the trigger again, but that would be expected now!

Instead, brought special just for this occasion, are a set of weighted rubber 'knives' meant for throwing and disarming techniques. As the merc clambers up onto an overhanging beam and swings around one of the vertical posts, one of these training tools flicks up in her hand. That rotational motion puts some extra velocity on the throw, flicking it down at Jynn from the side.

Kinda like shooting fish in a barrel! Really big fish. In a really, really big barrel.

Having gotten Psylocke to go for the feint of the haymaker, Jynn is able to get one strike in through her guard, but he is hit behind the left knee. Allowing his knee to buckle, Jynn rolls to his side at around the same time gunfire is heard. His eyes widen, and seeing that Psylocke is still coming in at him tells him something else is going on. He isn't abotu to have anyone shooting up his job. With his attention still focused on Betsy right now, he gets to his feet and shakes his leg a little.

The compliment that is given is shelved for now, and Jynn watches her for a moment, but he now knows there is a second person in his center firing from above. But distracted as he is, which is very bad and he should know this by now, Jynn catches a flicker of movement as Betsy kicks out at his chest which Jynn takes, grunting from the pain, but using that momentum, he goes into a back tuck, gaining distance and a moment of reprieve to look up and there it is. Landing he catches something up in the rafters, but Psylocke isn't giving him time to compose himself.

Jynn drops his left knee down to catch Psylockes leg and taking pressure off of it so taht he doesn't hurt her. He tries to trap her then quickly follows up with a palm stright between her cleavage. Having already grown accustom to fighting women by now. Jynn rolls away allowing the blunted throwing knife to hit the ground where he was just at. Or did it? He jerks and pain can be seen on his face as the blunted throwing knife drops to the ground after hitting him hard in the side.

Mental distraction isn't necessarily a problem-- the brain is an entropic thing, capable of firing strands of focus this way and that. The capability for aggregate action is inhuman, indeed; 'multitasking' is an illusory term. Jynn acquits himself well, not allowing the secondary element of surprise break his rhythm beyond the merest hiccup. It's hard to keep hold of Psylocke's leg - it's the most powerful part of her body, and quick besides - but the brief tension serves its purpose. As she pulls away into her crouch, she's dragging just slightly.

There's a dull rattle of the ribcage, the vigilante's palm finding purchase through the inner edge of her guard. Psylocke blinks in pleased surprise, though she demonstrates her own theory well. It doesn't stop her for the briefest instant, her frame already dancing back as she flexes upright, the numbness already yielding from the top of her chest. Domino's interference isn't allowed to work alone-- she moves just as she would anyway, stepping the right foot past the left behind her, three quick twists of her hip carrying her across the room to the abandoned striking dummy. A fourth step carries her around it, an arm hooking around its outer extremity to drag it in close, negating it with a grapple as though it were Jynn's own partner.

It's all *fast*, not telekinetically enhanced but flowing like a river rapid, perfectly judged to bring her sweeping around with the loosely humanoid thing weightless at her back. "Lesson two," she speaks through the natural in- and outtake of her breathing, "You're never as ready as you think you are. Hngh!!"

Jynn is still recovering when she bends like a reed, unhooking her arms with a flourish to send the dummy careering, spinning rapidly end over end toward him. Betsy ends up in a low, predatory crouch, one arm flung high and the other across the ground before her-- almost an acrobat's landing, every muscle tense and ready to spring. Profile low, there's little to aim at. Another precaution; against guns, against any other men who might have been nearby. A demonstration.

"There's *always* another opponent."

Hanging from the rafters is all fun and good, but there comes a time where Domino gets tired of being the special effects girl. After a while, her tricks start to get old. That's why she abandons her up-high post, backflipping through the air to land into a quick forward roll before coming up, spinning about, and flinging another one of those trainer knives toward Jynn's back.

She could stop there, but where'd the fun be in that?

The trench hits the floor mid-sprint as the albino woman closes the distance, heavy boots being far from subtle as they slam against the floor. Hopefully Betsy will see this one coming in time to kick high, because Dom's diving low to try and kick Jynn's feet right out from beneath him. Speed and power above fluid grace, she's more of the brawler than the artist.

Soft...shaking his head knowing Psylocke heard that. But hell Psylocke is gorgoues, but so is his fiancee'. Again he manages to find a hit, but Psylocke is able to recover quicker then he, and adapt far faster then he can. But then again he doesn't have the experience she has nor does he has the years of training that she probably does. Well he does have training, but has only done this for a year. Psylocke's legs are indeed powerful and he can't help holding her down which rolling away to avoid the strike coming in towards him.

As she puts distance between them which gives him a moment to look up to find the other who is attacking him from above. But it's teh wrenching sound coming from his training dummy, he blinks as he sees that Psylocke kicked it up off it's hinges and sends it towards him. His focus narrows quickly as he rolls to his right avoiding the dummy but barely, as he isn't fully successful but it was all he needed. Nodding his head slightly to Psylocke, but now that another set of boots hit teh ground running towards him.

"Bring it." he says as he quickly drops and does a spinning sweep towards Dominos lead ankle, he then shifts his momentum, he quickly does a high axe kick if Psylocke did follow up behind Domino.



It's the only sign she makes of having heard; though it's a doozy, in fairness, the singularly stern syllables so very almost hiding any sense of play that lingers beneath. It can be hard to tell when Psylocke is joking, though a few hours spent in the more relaxed variety of her company usually provides enough cluework to be going on. He's at least enough used to it that it doesn't affect his evasion of the dummy-- another plus point in her book. She hesitates no longer than it takes to return the nod, before she's sinking yet deeper toward the ground.

Everything happens so suddenly, but then--

The monochromatic mercenary's entrance to the intimate fray is met by the synergetic overhead lunge of Betsy, a corkscrewing flip carrying her from that low scorpion stance into a ferociously powerful horizontal leap - well above head height once she unleashes her honed athleticism at the apex of the initial spin. Kick high? High she can do. There's a fair way to travel - no way to fail to choreograph the blow save through some serious cheating - but her unpowered speed is still enough to make it a half second after the foundation strike.


 * whoosh*

As Jynn brings his own leg up, the sheer momentum gathered behind the leg lariat Betsy aims to cleave him apart in the wake of her apparent ally's sweep causes a most audible rush of parting winds. It carries her clean into his raised limb, flesh cracking against flesh, bone against bone as the two powerful attacks meet in mid-air. It forces her to recoil, twisting away from her intended course to drop to the ground like a somewhat agile stone; hard enough that a long, thin crack splinters through a floorboard under her landing foot.

"Jynn," she half-gasps, steadying herself with an applied palm and pushing to her feet, flexing the previously-clashing leg and lifting a high, loose guard with her arms, one hand tensed to a fist and the other a loosely curled palm. "Meet Domino. Teacher's assistant."

Blocked. Good! He heard it coming. Dom would have been sorely disappointed if Jynn hadn't. That collision of limbs sends a jarring rush of agony through an already somewhat injured limb and body beyond, but it's less of a distraction and more of a familiar old friend. That sort of familiar old friend that always steals all of the best appetizers and never stops talking to you in the theater.

Now things are going to get really interesting, the women closing in on the lone fighter front and back. It seems like a great time for Yet Another Distraction. "It's here, kiddo."

One hand snags the polymer grip of her PDW, tearing off another burst of blank cartridges toward the floor around Jynn's feet. It might get warm down there from the burning powder but it won't cause any damage.

An instant later, one of those black and white palms darts out to try and catch Jynn either square in the back or right in the sternum, meaning to offset his balance and send him toppling right into Psylocke. Hopefully she has a grappel or some other fancy move ready for it, if she does happen to land the strike.

Successful or not, now there's a brand new hazard in the playing field. Spent brass cartridges litter the floor nearby. Real good way to lose one's balance, accidentally stepping onto a few of those... Maybe luck will favor Jynn. Then again, it might favor Domino even more.

Jynn is starting to get the hang of this, multi-taskign in a fight is something one needs to learn and right now his brain is firing of information that his body is trying to react to. It's hard but he is doing it, even if there is a bit of slowness to his moves. As the colliding of limbs from him and Psylocke jar him, and causes Jynn to hold the kick longer to allow for Psylocke to fall hard on her rump. He side steps and turns around only to find Domino, a person he hasn't seen since that warehouse fiasco coming in at him quickly. He steps in towards her and counters allowing her blow to hit him but also delivering one of his own. Though at the same time he quickly reaches towards her in an attempt to throw her into Psylocke.

"Ok, ok." he says as he goes into a defensive stance as he looks at them both." Being shot at and having to fight hand to hand is a bit new and very distracting. He had to tap dance a little when Dom fired those blanks down around where he was standing before he countered and threw her but still he would have to clean this all up. "So sneaking in and testing me I see." he says as he looks to them both his gaze falling onto Psylocke to await her assetment.

A pair of ponderous, concerted strikes, the kicks were always unlikely to cause much damage-- but Psylocke is quickly learning that where Domino is concerned? 'Unlikely' comes up nine times out of ten. Jynn's counterstriking leaves him in obvious peril from behind, but with his stance unable to shift far for fear of those clever brass obstacles deployed by the merc... he does the sanest and most plausible possible thing. Against a lesser enemy it would probably work.

Against Domino it's something of a 'sucker bet'.

Still, Betsy at least has to react to the monochromatic mercenary suddenly bearing down upon her. With her guard raised she quirks a brow, unable to keep the crooked grin from her lips a she meets the incoming woman with the graceful equivalent of a bum's rush. A twisting sidestep brings her leading palm inward, throwing a gentle shove into Domino's shoulder that buys them a little more separation. Continuing through her own momentum, she lunges low onto the left foot, drawing back the nudging palm to present her opposing fist in an upward strike to the jaw.

Except it's destined to fall short. The world will never know if it strikes, or is defended.

"You have no idea," murmurs Betsy, violet eyes narrowed to meet the merc's patch-eyed gaze from below. Her lips are still curled upward, as much in excitement as savagery, somewhere between amusement and a need for violence. "How much I'd love to."

"But..."

Like that it's gone, her posture relaxing and glance slipping askance to Jynn.

"*Your* one failing is that you called a close to the lesson. A conflict is never over when you choose-- it's over when nobody stands to oppose you." No matter her manner outside of business, as an instructor Psylocke is as stern and solemn as she tends to be in the field. Exceptional circumstances aside. "Good, though." It's tempered with a smile, and a shifting bow of her head. "There was no way you were going to win, but you tried to *survive* instead. If you can move through conflict unscathed then you can, in theory, find the means to triumph. Particularly," Straightening up, she releases a breath, cricking her neck to one side as a cool glance ping-pongs between Jynn and Domino. "If you're part of a team. I want you two to work together."