Storm Simulations

Log Info

Title: Storm Simulation
Emitter: None
Characters: Miles Glendower, Summer
NPCs: None
Place: Thunderdome, Campus.
Time: Saturday, June 26th, 2010
Summary: As directed by a teacher, Summer goes to check out the combat simulator. But, of course, it's already in use by Miles. Hijinks ensue, ranging from awkwardness to asskicking and more.

The Thunderdome - Western Grounds - Steranko Institute
The Thunderdome is a massive structure, the inside only slightly smaller than the outside suggests. When turned off, the hexagonal hard-light generation panels that make up the room can be seen. A small elevator to the north leads to a control room half way up. A door to the men's locker room is to the east, with the women's locker room to the west. The door out is to the south. The room actually looks rather boring when not in use.

A program is running right now in the Thunderdome- apparently a mid-level combat program in an urban environment- recognizable as downtown Cove City, with dozens of low-powered enemies charging out to attack…nothing at all, though they'r ereacting as though they're being hit and fading off screen properly. Of course, that's only the case if you watch what's actually going on. If you check the monitors, however, they tell a different story. The room's sole occupants is a young man a little over six feet tall, in the skin tight blue and black Baldwin jumpsuit. Weird. He seems almost at ease, eyes half-closed. Maybe this is just a way for him to relax.

"How the /hell/ do the neo-humans deal with their /costumes/ oh my /god/." Summer Sinclair is not having the best of days, oh no, and to judge by the rumble of thunder outside, she's been at this for a while. This, of course, being fighting with that skin-tight blue and black jumpsuit; evidently, while she's familiar enough with the whole 'dress in streamlined clothes when out doing things you probably shouldn't' trope, the uniform is defying her, the fastenings mostly done up but a few last ones being just out of her reach. "Either they're as flexible as silly putty or…" she mutters. She stalks out from the west side of the structure…

… and into Cove City? Immediately, her expression darkens, a few strands too short to fit into the ponytail flying about her face as she spots the virtual thugs. Convenient targets! Miles' meditative state is going to be ruined by thugs being sent flying like ninepins, slamming into walls courtesy of a whipcrack of wind. They vanish. Summer blinks, pulling back from another gale-force wind to stare bemusedly at empty streets.

The Miles on the monitor blinks, while the one inside stares at this and calls, "Uh, Pause program." Finally spotting Summer, he heads that way. "Thanks for the…help, I guess? You okay?"

"… aside from feeling like a complete and utter idiot, I'm doing fine," Summer replies, trying to find the source of the voice. She does recognize it. She just doesn't know quite where it's coming from. "One of the teachers suggested I come here and told me the uniform was required, so I wasn't quite sure what to expect." She /is/ dressed in the uniform. "And I saw people attacking someone, or so I thought." Pause a beat. "Sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your program." She tugs at the fabric of the uniform, looking down. "Are these /supposed/ to be like this?"

"If you mean…kind of tight? Yeah. They aren't supposed to be so…um…" He pauses, unsure what to say. He's making hand gestures that are, of course, useless because they can't be seen. "Low cut, though. They've got a high collar." A pause. "Forgive me for staring, I'm just not sure how you -did- it."

"You aren't making fun of me, are you?" Summer sounds a little bit wary, a little bit resigned, and a little bit wistful. "I was thinking it was a Baldwin prank I'd fallen into — oh, let's let the new girl wind up in a uniform a few sizes too small or something — because I can't get the last fastening." Which might explain the low-cut neckline. "I guess that's an advantage to being invisible. No-one gets offended if you /do/ stare unless you tell them you are, and maybe not even then."

"It…could be a Baldwin prank, but I'm not in on it if I am." Miles sighs. "Anyway, they're -supposed- to actually stretch to fit; they're made so folks who shapeshift or grow or shrink or what have you don't rip them as soon as they use their powers, but maybe someone rigged yours. Could you…turn around? I'll see if there's anything I can do." He snorts. "Be that as it may, I try not to use my powers for that sort of thing, even if the option is there, no matter how tempting."

"Great, I have ultimate Spandex and all it can manage to do is make me want to strangle something." Sighing, Summer turns around as asked. The top few fastenings are indeed loose, however they might fit together. She pulls her ponytail loose, pulling her hair over her shoulder and keeping it out of the way for the moment. "Good to know. I know I'd be tempted sometimes if I knew no-one could see me."

"Doesn't looked rigged. Anyway, the thing to remember with this is that even if you're afraid it'll tear it'll keep stretching. So you can tug on it a lot harder than you might think." He demonstrates, pulling on the fastenings to try to get them together; the material compresses at first and then seems to expand again, giving her a little more room and a little less low cut. "That better?" A pause. "I'd ask what you might do, but I probably shouldn't give myself any ideas."

Summer takes a breath and discovers that, indeed, once in the proper place, the uniform /does/ fit better. "Fanks," she mumbles around her hair tie, holding it in her teeth so that she can pull her hair back again. She turns to glance over her shoulder at Miles' words, a questioning expression upon her face as she pulls the hairband free. "I don't know. I just know that I'd probably be tempted to misuse that sorta power sometime. Probably not in spying, though."

Miles sighs, and mutters under his breath once the last fastener's done. "Well, I admit I -do- use it in some selfish ways. Like basically ignoring the curfew if I feel like going for a walk, but the whole spying thing just feels skeevy, you know?"

The mutter doesn't /quite/ go unnoticed, but Summer only gives Miles another arch-browed look in an attempt to prompt him to explain, at least until her expression turns mischievous. "Flying was always good for escaping Mom's curfew, though she has a highly-developed Mom Sense and so I always get pointed looks in the morning and questions about how the weather was overnight," she admits, pulling her hair up into a doubled-over ponytail and turning to face him. "But spying on people /would/ be skeevy. I mean, unless there was a good reason." She gestures to the simulation. "You do this for fun?"

"Not…exactly. It's…training. Family legacy thing. If I -don't keep it up, my grandmother will know and god forbid I slack off any." A pause. "Also it's good practice. My non-punchy powersdon't work on holograms, so I have to remember to dodge."

Summer reaches up and squeezes Miles' shoulder, somehow being lucky enough to actually land there, before walking past him to look at the frozen simulation, one hand on her hip as she looks at one of the mid-air frozen thugs. "Pretty realistic," she muses. "Your /grandmother/?" Summer tries to think of her own grandmother — great-aunt, really — leaning on her about training, and, to judge by her sudden laugh, it's not an easy picture. "Legacies, huh?"

"Yeah- I think I mentioned before. My grandfather was this old, old school vigilante, back in the forties. Operated here in Cove City, and went by the name Nightwraith." He sighs. "He had a sidekick, his chauffeur and personal assistant. Eventually, he retired and married her. Anyway, he passed away a while back, and well, dad? didn't inherit his powers. They skipped a generation, I guess. So when mine manifested, well, grandma Lena wanted me to take up the family tradition. And, well, also get them under control. When I first started out, not only was I stuck invisible, I was surrounded by this constant aura of fear that'd kick in whenever anybody got even semi-close to me." He shrugs. "Eventually I figure I'll figure out the invisibility thing, unless one of the science types here does first."

"You're right. I'd forgotten." Summer lifts her linked hands above her head in a tendon-popping stretch. "I got distracted by Kelly cannonballing the entire pool, and the pool actually reacting to it." She rolls her eyes expressively at that. "So, can I help with practice, or do you need to do this alone?"

Miles is silent a moment. Possibly he lost his train of thought in the stretch. There's a long pause and then. "Huh? Oh…uh. Sure. I don't -think- it'll yell at me if I let someone else help. Probably."

"Ah, but will your /grandmother/ yell at you, is the real question, given how … terrified you seem of her." Summer /is/ teasing, her words given a mischievous sing-song as she surveys the simulation. "Though I've never actually done anything… combative, really. Which is why the teacher told me to come here, I guess."

"Hmm. Would you like to spar, then? One on one, instead of throwing you into the deep end first thing?" Miles snorts. "It's got my grandmother -in- this program, sort of. She had one ordered special to correct my form if I made mistakes. I've had…more than my fair share of combat experience, really."

Summer looks over her shoulder, brows drawing together in a slight frown. "Spar?" she echoes, then brightens. "Sure." New experience: go! The blonde laughs. "I'm sorry, your grandmother sounds… pretty scary, really. So, how do we go about this?"

"Oh, she is." Miles notes, breezily. "Utterly terrifying, really." He straightens. "Okay, so how about this. We start, say…100 feet apart. You try to keep me from getting close in, like that wind you were throwing around earlier, while I'm trying to get into range to knock -you- down. Sound good?"

Gaze intent on the space where Miles' voice is coming from, Summer listens to the suggested 'rules' and nods, ponytail bobbing slightly with the motion. "Sounds good," she agrees, turning to walk down the constructed street to an approximate distance. As yet, she hasn't tapped her powers — evidently, it wouldn't be fair until the start-call.

"And…now!" And then there's the sound of running. The one downside for Miles' powers is that he -does- have to get into range. So Summer may at least have a chance to stop him before he gets to her.

Getting into range can be a difficult thing: at the sound of running feet, Summer brings a hand up in a diagonal swoop in front of her, and the reason she tied back her hair becomes evident as wind whips around her, lifting her upwards. Not so easy to catch at some thirty feet above the air. "You /did/ say to keep you out of range," she calls down laughingly.

"So I did!" Miles allows. Fortunately, the simulation of the city streets are still up and running; The sound of running changes; a door opens and closes off in the distance.

"Ominous," is all Summer says, closing her eyes and pricking her ears as best she can to try to find out just which rooftop he'll be coming up onto. The winds that whirl around her make this more difficult than it must be; she stays still for the moment, trying to read the changes in the air. This… may not be the best of choices.

Ominous indeed, especially since, well, it soon becomes evident that he didn't actually go inside…because the fire escape -behind- her now? That's rattling. At the very top of it, and then goes silent. Which means he's probably already jumping and is that his arms around her waist ack! "Of course, if either of us falls right now, it's going to hurt quite a bit, so we may want to get back to the ground, eh?"

Indeed, ack. Summer shrieks in surprise, drifting sideways in the air as his weight throws her off balance — and there's just the hint of ozone in the air that warns a split second before the winds that swirl around them become charged. She catches herself at the last moment, sending only the mildest of shocks through a quick touch of her hand to his arm. "I'm not defenseless at close range either. Guess I should've gone higher though."

"I've got a few tricks besides punching myself." Miles taps her at the small of her back. "Pressure points, for example." It's not -quite- enough to knock her out or completely stiffen her up, but it -does- have an impact, slowing her reflexes a little. "Though yours may actually be better."

The slowing of her reaction time probably does more to make Summer stiffen than the all-out paralysis would, even; her cheeks are reddening, and a few sparks crackle over her free hand. She drifts over a rooftop, the blue-and-black uniform taking on a stormier look as the light from above dulls. "Stop that!" she snaps as her feet touch the building's hard-light surface. Yep. That's real rain coming down. Which probably doesn't do much for the uniform.

Miles is, apparently, looking upward at the moment; given their positions, it's not hard for her to feel his chin move. "Sure." He taps her again, in the same spot, and it immediately stops. "Call it a draw for the first round?"

Summer does indeed look rather annoyed, blue eyes lightening to a grey that closely matches the leaden clouds above as the rain patters down around them, soaking her uniform and darkening the colours further. "/This/ is why I never did any martial arts," she snarls, flash-temper having caught and being in the process of burning. The room's seen plenty of this sort of thing, however, so the lightning-bolt that strikes down in the street behind is merely counted as a property-damage fault, leaving a charred point in the 'street'. No, Summer does not lose easily, and evidently she thinks it /was/ a loss. And, fairness prompts her to say it: "You won that one. I was /supposed/ to keep you away." Annoyed? Oh hell yes.

"Nooo, you were supposed to knock me down before I knocked you down. Both of us? Currently on our feet. So draw, unless we just keep going." He shakes himself off a little. "Though it looks like you've got similar issues to me. Sometimes my fear powers do the same thing." A pause. Not as spectacularly, but if I'm mad or upset or frustrated they'll just…boom all over the place. It's why the other side of all the training for me was meditation and such, so I could narrow it all down to a pinpoint."

"I've never /fought/ with my powers. I've just-" She cuts herself off there, shaking her head slightly. Summer's temper is dying down now that the situation is resolved, though the rain hasn't slacked just yet. "So I don't know what to /do/. What I even /can/ do. So it's all… reacting. Which is the /worst/ place to be in sports and I'd assume for fighting, too." She takes a deep breath, holding her hand palm-upwards to the rain, and closing her fingers. The rain slacks off. She closes her eyes, and then when she opens them again, they're back to her usual mid-blue. "I have a temper." There's no apology in the look or words, really. Just an admission.

"Yeah, pretty much, though at least in fighting a lot of what they want you to learn is…ingrained. Muscle memory, like. So the right patterns become almost reflexive." Miles pats her on the shoulder, absently. "But that's probably why you're here, so. To find out what you -can- do."

"You too, or was that more control? Or, right, can't exactly go to a normal school." Summer pats his hand on her shoulder and looks thoughtful. "Do we want to try that again? Preferably without the pyrotechnics on my part?"

"Yeah. Well, the control is part of why I can't, but…sure." A pause. "Give me a lift back to the ground? Starting from the same positions, say."

"Oh." Blink. "Right. I forget that…" Not everyone can fly? Summer offers Miles her hand, extending her wind-field around the pair of them and taking them back down to street-level, touching down lightly. The wind dies down, almost-visible gusts losing cohesion and dying away. "Ready when you are." Judging by her expression, she has an Idea.

"My grandmother wants me to start learning light-foot- that's what the whole business with the ricepaper was. So eventually I'll -almost- be able to keep up, I suppose, but right now…" He shrugs. "In any case. Right then. Ready!" And so he starts to move again, a little more cautiously than the charge from before.

The air begins to move around Miles as soon as he shifts, while Summer remains standing still, eyes closed and a small smile playing about her lips. Sifting through her perceptions, she finds Miles' location and grins all the wider. "Gotcha," she says, whirling in a smooth, circular motion. And the winds intensify to gale-force, trying to sweep him off his feet and send him flying. Perhaps literally.

It's kind of weird to see- or, well, -not- see. Miles goes flying backwards, slamming into a hard light building construct. The construct shimmers from the impact, but, it should be noted, Miles doesn't suddenly appear- apparently he really -is- stuck that way. "Well. That one's yours, I think. Ow."

Summer is already moving forward to help Miles up, evidently not needing the voice-location to do so. She leans down to offer him a hand up. "You still make a pattern in the air," she notes. "Whatever your brain does to tell people you're not there doesn't extend to that, it seems. I think I could also see you if I looked for temperature differentials, but I'm not sure I could really do that. You all right?"

"I'm fine. Taken worse hits. Unfortunately." Miles accepts the hand up. "Though that's good to know. I don't know that temperature would work, but I'm not sure. Like there's was a guy- graduated this year wiith infrared vision? He still couldn't see my body heat or anything, though I suppose it'd depend some on -how- you did it."

At that, Summer just shrugs, hands splaying wide at her sides. Thankfully, with the cessation of the rain, her uniform's dried off. "I don't know. I knew you were there when I flew us down from that rooftop, and so I got the idea to just… look for you that way." She's flushed with victory and discovery as she gives his hand a squeeze and releases, bouncing a bit on the balls of her feet. "All of this is a lot more delicate than shoving a storm away."

Miles is -again- distracted a moment before replying. "See? You're already figuring things out, at least." A pause. "You mentioned before, how you'd never taken any martial arts. Does that…electricity thing happen any time you get your temper up or is it just any sort of strong emotion?"

Thankfully, Milesian distraction is unnoticed due to his invisibility; while she might be able to see him fairly accurately, seeing where he's looking and expressions… not so much. The question makes her bite her lower lip in thought. "No," she says slowly, mulling it over. "It just tends to happen more often when I've been /using/ my powers and something sets me off. I love storms. When I first learned to fly, I'd just sit in the middle of a storm and watch the lightning and listen to the thunder." Pause. "Funny story: I once got angry enough at an ex-boyfriend who decided to break up with me via Twitter that I fried the computer I was sitting at, though?" She looks rather embarrassed to admit it.

"That…actually answers what I was getting at, kind of. I was wondering if you were worse off than I am in that department." He sounds faintly embarassed himself. "If it happened involuntarily when you were…yeah. Nevermind." A pause. "He broke up with you over -twitter-? Seriously?"

"I was … what?" Summer prompts, resting one hand on her hip and giving him a Look. "And yes. Over twitter. One hundred forty characters of break-up posted for anyone following. I think I was pretty justified in being angry."

"I was just thinking, well, if all of a sudden you were say, making out with someone and all of a sudden starting sparking because of it, that'd be a little awkward is all." Miles shrugs, which she may actually be able to pick up on her own. "Like, I mean, I can't go out on dates in public, which is pretty terrible for any kind of dating, but that'd be even worse." A shake of the head. "Man. My last girlfriend dumped me over a text, but I can't actually blame her for that. She hadn't, uh. Seen me for six months because of this." He waves a hand in front of his face. "And I ran out of excuses."

That prompts, rather than embarrassment or anger, a full-out laugh. "Oh god. I hadn't thought about that. Hahaha. No, no, it's really just me being angry," Summer says as laughter subsides into giggles, one hand half-hiding her grin. "Ouch. That would be awkward to explain, yes, since the whole identity thing and, well, high school girlfriend does not equal lifelong trusted friend, particularly if she dumped you via text in the end."

"Well, that's good to know, anyway. But yeah. And well, I mean, how well would it -work- to go out on dates with an invisible man? You'd order two movie tickets and have to explain that your invisible boyfriend's sitting next to you when someone wants the seat. Plus you look a bit daft ordering a meal for two while apparently alone and if I want to buy a girl dinner they can't exactly match my face to my ID for a credit card, for example."

Summer lets Miles rant for a bit, watching him with that grin still in place, because really, it /is/ funny in a wince-worthy way. "So don't go on typical dates?" she suggests with a shrug. "Go stargazing. Go for a picnic. Go hiking. Hell, find a nice hill on a partly-cloudy day and spot cloud shapes. Go swimming on the beach somewhere. Make a driftwood fire on the beach and toast marshmallows." She reaches up to pat Miles on the head gently. "Use your brain and don't fall into the same stupid traps as most teen boys."

The rant trails off. "Huh. Those could actually work, I guess. Though, well. Have to be a girl who appreciates that kind of thing, I guess." He snorts. "Don't worry, I have my own set of stupid traps to fall into."

"Unless you're dating the stereotypical cheerleader, at least /one/ of those is going to appeal," Summer says dryly, then plucks at her uniform, testing the dryness of it before her head snaps up, mischief in her eyes. "Oh? What stupid traps might those be?"

"…Yeah. I mentioned I was on the football team, didn't I? Anyway." He eyes her sudden interest. "Well, my personal stupid trap is probably being attracted to girls who could kick my ass."

Summer's grin broadens. "Oho, were you the It Couple?" she asks teasingly. "Dating because everyone thought you should and she was hot so you said 'why the hell not'? Dangerous ground there, Miles!" She ducks away as if to dodge, laughing. "Oh, you must be in /so/ much trouble at this school, then, from what I've seen of the girls."

"I didn't say I was -proud- of it, mind you." If he's rolling his eyes it's invisible, fortunately. He mutters, under his breath, "Did you start by looking in a mirror?" He may not have meant to say that loud enough for her to here, really. "So what about you? Any traps you think you need to be wary of?"

"It's the one of the only things I can tease you about, so I'll take what I can get," Summer replies, for all outward appearances completely missing the mutter. As it is, she smirks at Miles for the question. "Subtle. As noted before, a fondness for guys who pretty much turn out to be idiots. But then, most teenage guys /are/." Open mouth, insert foot?

Miles snaps his fingers. "Well, that lets me out then. I mean, you already -know- I'm one. You'd lose the thrill of discovery that way, right?"

"I'm not quite sure /what/ to make of that statement." Summer shakes her head, her ponytail bobbing slightly. "How've you been an idiot so far? My blanket statement was present company excluded, at least so far."

"Well, you can probably take it as "He's really terrible at flirting," Miles offers. "But also I think I've said some really dumb things. But I guess you'd be a better judge."

Summer reaches out to pat Miles' arm. "Again, that's something that 99% of the teenage boys I've run into share. But why're you flirting with me? I haven't managed to kick your ass." Pause. "Not that I really want to."

"My ass from where it hit the floor before begs to differ." A pause. "And I never said that was my -only- criteria. It helps that you're tall enough that I don't get a horrible crick in my neck talking to you. Not to mention that you can actually kind of see me, or at least sense me enough to know where I am, which puts you in pretty rarified company."

"And you snuck up on me and made me land," Summer points out. "If you'd actually wanted to, I would probably have been on the floor. Your point being?" Comments on her height make her snicker. "That, I'll give you. Right now, though? I don't know you well enough to really flirt with you intentionally."

"And? You could have tasered me onto the floor as soon as I grabbed you." Miles points out. "That's why I was calling that one a draw." Another shrug. "Anyway. If that's the case, I'd really, really like to get to know you better. Just to put that out there."

Summer splays the fingers of one hand in acquiescence to his point, then once more pats Miles' shoulder, fingers closing over his uniform so that, even should she not see the shrug, she feels it. "I'm fine with that. We /are/ neighbours, no less."

Miles offers his hand- easy enough to feel while she's got her hand on his shoulder. "And on the basis of neighbors, then…walk you back to the dorm?"

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