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#GTL; [Jimmy]
Topic Started: Oct 13 2014, 05:42 AM (68 Views)
Martha Johansson
Unregistered

October 8th
3:30 pm
Danger Room



Admittedly, she wasn't sure what to expect from this session, though she did anticipate either an unwavering commitment to never engaging in physical combat again or spending the subsequent days incapable of even breathing without severe pain. The Legacy Squad provided combat training, of course -- demanded it, actually -- and her time as a student saw repetitive sessions that truthfully never grew easier, but possessing telepathic capabilities gave her the luxury to avoid bruises and broken bones for a majority of encounters. Perhaps not every opponent was susceptible to psychic interference but then again, many were; and those who exhibited impregnable mental shields could easily be dispatched by a teammate. So Martha viewed physical training as an asset, not a necessity.

Unfortunately, that asset held immense importance.

She'd attempted improving her unarmed combat skills numerous times but displayed very little progress. She wasn't too defenseless, still able to strike some defensive poses and had an adequate comprehension on how to attack. Yet, if pitted against another mutant, chances were Martha would leave victorious forty, maybe fifty percent if she was lucky or the other individual was just as bad as her. Without access to her telepathy, she wasn't much use. And that's what worried her. All this time she worked toward a position among the X-Men but never realized they were all capable even without their impressive abilities. What would she do if an unfavorable situation arrived? Go hide in the Blackbird until it was safe? Or maybe she could play dead and hope the enemy didn't care to check. It was truly pitiful.

"My arms are noodles", she muttered in a moment of reflection, "I have noodles for arms. Boneless, inconsequential noodles. Even Stephen Hawking's arms are better than mine. Hell, even a goddamn corpse's arms are better".

Hyperbolic complaints aside, Martha decided it was about time she made a choice: would she remain physically inept for the remainder of her life (and thus risk graduating from the Legacy Squad), or would she take action and identify a solution that had already been identified again and again? The latter, of course, although she had entertained the former several hours before scheduling the session. No, she could do this. She had to do this. Besides, she had Jimmy for assistance. If improvement didn't happen at least there was appreciable eye candy.

Jimmy was a friend, a very good friend, and was also among her favorite people. Everyone loved Jimmy; the students, the faculty, and most importantly Jimmy himself. Not that anyone could blame him -- he really did deserve the adoration.

Especially those arms.

Uniform on and phone in hand, Martha hurried down the floors and strode toward the Danger Room, growing more and more anxious with each step. You can do this, she thought. You have to do this. She just hoped no one learned of her eventual misery.

Having reached the entrance, Martha waited patiently for her partner; with a swift swipe she unlocked her phone and accessed her Instagram. Innumerable pictures of men and women looking drop-dead gorgeous while at the gym filled the screen.

"You all suck".
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