More Than You Can Chew [Open]

[Nineteen]

"Hello?" Nineteen closed the door to the training room behind her. There wasn't an immediate answer, so instead she just took the time to inspect the room. It was outfitted with equipment both recognizable and very strange -- but the feel of the room, all the same, was familiar. When you had spent all recent memory of your life around devices that challenged you and required you to be at your physical peak, they became easy enough to spot, whether they were a basic punching bag... or something that looked an awful lot like a gun turret.

While even going to a regular gym tended to make some people nervous, Nineteen instantly felt more comfortable here than she had in any other part of the ship. This was supposed to be her "day off" -- tomorrow would be the beginning of deciding whether or not she got to become an Animorph -- but she was not particularly interested in socializing with the other recruits. For all the world, despite the lack of cages, she still felt trapped. After all, they were surrounded by one of the harshest natural cages in the world: arctic tundra. The only thing comparable would have been an ocean; each would have been likewise impossible to escape across.

And she felt like she was back at the bottom rung. As much as she could hate the Controllers who made her into what she was, at least she'd climbed to the top in the role she'd been allotted. Now she was just another recruit, even fresher and greener than the other ones here. She couldn't even morph yet -- wasn't even sure that she'd been given the opportunity (furthermore: wasn't so sure she wanted it, if it just meant servitude to a different master).

Life, before the day she'd killed that Controller in the fighting ring, had been relatively simple. Since then it'd only become more and more problematic; she'd gone from needing to make no decisions, to suddenly having lots of different (and important) choices on her plate. Nineteen craved the mental stillness that came with physical exertion: which was why she'd sought out the training room as soon as she'd heard there was one.

Nineteen went over to one of the supply racks. Pleasantly surprised, she found several sizes of exercise gear, plus handwraps, weight gloves, boxing gloves... She assumed no one would really miss a pair of the shorts and a tank top, and if they did, she could always return them. At the moment she was wearing a pair of borrowed jeans and a hoodie anyway.

Picking her size, Nineteen glanced around the empty room again and began to change. She wasn't really shy: that wasn't a luxury that got afforded to anyone who used their body for a living. After a quick change, she folded her other clothes, and began to wrap her hands. It struck her that, despite the size listed on the crate the clothes had been in, they were still on the tighter side. They had a nice pliancy to them, at least.

When she was more or less geared up, Nineteen began to stretch, welcoming the familiar feeling of "zenning out" before a workout.

[xander]

Xander pulled at the small towel around his neck as he walked through the ship. The day was light on activity and everyone else was off doing something. Or he hoped they were off doing something since he couldn’t find them. Admitting defeat he decided to attempt something productive, which given the fact he couldn’t go to the labs meant exercise or the like. He had a routine, every morning wake up at five do what he need to stay in top notch and then go back to sleep, be late for his first class. Well the last part was a newer addition.

After much debate he decided to go to Kuvo’s hell and see if the devil was out. He had come to hate the room but he had to admit the access to equipment was nice. Like with the chemicals, it was nice to have the genuine article. Improved weights were effective enough but not his most desired option.

Peeking inside the training room he broke into a shameless grin when he saw no Kovu. He did however notice someone of the female persuasion in the room. Stepping inside he watched stretch for a moment before clicking his teeth. She was fit in both ways and from the looks of it could kick his ass on accident.

“You the new bird?”He stood with his weight on one foot and head titled.

Few years back he would have been intimidated by working out in the same room with the likes of her. Then again a few years back he’d have freaked out if anyone was in the same room. Now he didn’t care who saw. Xander moved away from the door toward the part of the room she was in but tried to give her enough distance. He threw the towel on the ground and began stretching as well, bending forward keeping his legs straight and putting the palms of his hands on the ground.

“Hope ya don’t mind my existence,” he said, “Whatcha doing down here?”

[Nineteen]

Nineteen had noticed the door opening; she was aware of her surroundings on a level that suggested paranoia (which, she figured, was a mild psychological problem to escape with for someone who had been in her shoes). She didn't react much though, just continued to stretch; it seemed to be another teenager -- the place was crawling with them, really -- and though she found herself a might less comfortable, she didn't feel exactly threatened by anyone she'd met. They'd seemed pretty well-adjusted for being kids that could turn into animals fighting a war against aliens.

He addressed her and approached companionably enough, and Nineteen offered him a brief smile as she pulled an behind her head to stretch. "You're cool, no worries," she said easily. "I figured I'd check out the in-house gym." Nineteen switched to stretch the other arm. "A little more high-tech than what I'm used to. The lack of bladed devil-guards and lead jail-bars is a pleasant change, too," she added with a smirk.

"I go by Nineteen. Like the number. What's your name?" It was easier than saying, 'My name is' -- then people would just consider it a nickname. Of course the people in the upper rungs of the hierarchy, or those that were involved in the rescue, knew better. But she wasn't in a rush to lay out that baggage just yet. It was one thing to have been a slave when most of the known world were now captured or doing their best to avoid it. It was another to have adopted your slave-name.

Nineteen swung her arms in front of her a bit to shake out the stretch, then took a step forward and extended a hand to him for a friendly shake.

[xander]

Xander sat on the ground and continued stretching, bending forward trying to get his chest to touch his knees. “Sounds like you last place had strict policy,” he replied muffled slightly, “Kept stealing cookies?”

He stood and unconsciously started copying stretches she had done. It was something found himself doing since he started training. Originally it was just to make sure he prepped right, but he had learned a few new techniques through the habit.

“Nineteen,” he repeated back to himself with a small nod, “That you’re lucky number or something?” He knew there was a movie about a guy who played the piano named Nineteen Hundred and wondered if that had anything to do with it. “Oh, I’m Xander.”

He took her hand and gave it a firm shake with a friendly smirk. Letting his hand drop back down to his side Xander took a step a back gave the room a quick glance.

“So do you have a plan or just exploring?” He asked trying to make conversation. Without wavering at all he lifted his foot and pulled it behind him to get his Quads stretched as well. “If you’re looking for something in particular, ‘fraid I’m not much help. I use the same things over and over, not much variety there.”

[Nineteen]

Nineteen smirked. "Not quite," she replied, when he mentioned stealing cookies. She'd gotten all the cookies she'd wanted, towards the end. Except for oatmeal; they'd never given her any oatmeal cookies. Then again, she wouldn't complain about that.

"Something like that," she said casually when he asked about her name. She shook his hand, and tried to store his name -- Xander, she thought -- away. Nineteen wasn't really good with remembering names, but usually that was because she wasn't ever required to bother. Half the time she didn't even know the number of the other fighters she was in the ring with, and it was only slightly more important to know what the Controllers had called themselves. All she'd really had to know was her own assignment, and to come when she was called. She generally hadn't had to address anyone.

"Mostly was just going to explore. I don't really need anything fancy; a simple punching bag would have sufficed." There were several of these on the other side of the room, some in really odd shapes and sizes that she guessed were meant to be modeled after Hork Bajir or Taxxons. The material on those looked exceptionally reinforced, but she still saw what looked like tooth and claw marks in some places.

Which reminded her...

"So you're an Animorph, huh?" It was far from eloquent, and she realized it came out oddly accusatory a little too late. "You turn into a lion or a tiger or whatever?"

[xander]

Xander nodded after she said she’d explore. Figuring he’d leave her to that he walked over to one of the equipment boxes and dug through it until he found a jump rope. It wouldn’t be good enough for a full work out, he had the obstacle course for that, but it worked for a warm up. He stepped on the middle of the rope and began wrapping the extra around his hands.

When Nineteen asked about him turning into a lion he burst out laughing. Quick as he could he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth. He closed his eyes and regained control of his breathing. “Well,” he said the laughter threatening to in his voice, “I suppose. I have the power but I think the title’s a bit generous. As for the lions and tigers and bears, you may want to try downsizing a bit.” Xander held his hands less than a foot apart.

Shaking his head he swung the rope behind him and chuckled slightly before starting to jump. For now he was happy to have the power, not so impressed with the morphs. What Yeerk in their right mind would be afraid of him and all his tiny glory, let alone when he turned into a cat with stubby legs?

[Nineteen]

Nineteen blinked, taken aback by the sudden laughter. Immediately she felt herself tense, if only slightly. Being laughed at was not a thing that Nineteen liked. She could let a lot of things slide off her back: insults didn't really bother her, for instance. But there was something about someone laughing at her that got under her skin in the worst way. Her jaw tightened, but she did her best otherwise not to show it. The kid probably didn't mean anything by it, and he regained himself quickly enough.

Still, for a moment she couldn't help but feel a few darker impulses rise up. It had been a legitimate question, hadn't it?

"What's the point in being an Animorph if you can't turn into something dangerous? What can you turn into? I mean, that's the whole trick of the 'resistance' or whatever, isn't it?" She said the word more than a little skeptically. Sure they'd saved her, but she'd been a slave long enough to see just how much further they'd have to go.

Nineteen moved over to another shelf, this time retrieving a pair of handwraps. She didn't bother with the gloves: there didn't seem to be much point, to her, in working out with them on. Half the release was feeling the skin on your knuckles get bruised and mangled.

[xander]

“Well,” he paused as he jumped rope, “there is that healing thing that comes in handy. Get a cut or an arm cut off, morph and good as new. That last one was an exaggeration but you get the point right? As for me I got a cat, bug, bird, and otter. Like the cat best, use my tiny claws to climb up currents and people’s legs.”

“I think when you work your way up the food chain you get better animals,” Xander continued, “or that’s what I hope. The one teacher here can turn into a tiger though if you’re still curious.”

He stopped the rope, mostly because he was tired or jumping rather than just tired. Xander glanced around until he found a pull up bar and walked over. After a jump he had a hold and was pulling himself up and lowering again.
On one of his times down he asked Nineteen,

“If you aren’t so hot on the idea why’d you come down to the ass end of the planet to join the club?”

[Nineteen]

Nineteen dragged (with a bit of effort) a standing padded-target towards her, and gave it a few experimental jabs. These types of things were built heavy, and though she thought she could likely kick it hard enough to knock it over (or send it toppling into her on rebound) she decided that it would do. She stopped when she heard Xander mention something about healing powers, though.

Were they capable of completely healing themselves? He said it was an exaggeration, but the thought stuck with Nineteen. After all, the fighting capability of her body had been her ticket to life itself these past years. A really bad injury would have amounted to a consequence with the equivalent of shooting a horse with a broken leg. Anything that could lessen the devastation that came with a moderate injury would have been a boon.

She made a mental note of the fact that a teacher could turn into a tiger. That was some decent firepower. Not that guns didn't kill tigers -- and she was sure as hell that a dracon beam would too -- but it was certainly better than the average human host. As she listened she began to start practicing on the target again, nothing too heavy while they were still conversing.

"I didn't have too much'uva choice," Nineteen replied between jabs. She danced around the bag a bit, increasing the speed of her hits. "Was on a slaver-ship heading to Cape Town. Kind've an ironic twist on the Triangle Trade that brought slavery to the US." Her fists pummeled the padded surface of the target, and she started to feel the sweet sensation of impact and blunt pain that let her know her blows were strong and true. "I was stuck in a gladiator ring for a long time. Yeerks pittin' humans 'gainst other humans. After Dallas blew, I got sold."

Her lips pulled into a thin smile that was half smirk, half grimace. "Never made it there -- got rescued on the way. Someone mentioned that I was 'bout the right age to be Animorph material. The alternative was to get shipped to some free human colony. And no 'ffense to those guys, but I think I'll take my chances seein' if I've got what it takes to be a soldier for the resistance. Sittin' around waiting to be captured all over 'gain really isn't anything I'm interested in."

Her speech had dropped to a much more colloquial level as she struck out. She looked over at him briefly, before spinning and hitting the target with a mild kick. "It's not that I don't want to join. It's just that it's hard to get straight answers outta anyone 'bout what I'd really be signin' up for. Maybe that comes later, though." She doubted it would: good guys and bad guys alike didn't try to sell you one fighting in a war by telling you the truth.

[xander]

Xander pulled himself up and over the bar. He hooked his knees on the bar and allowed himself to fall backwards so he could watch Nineteen. After he stopped swinging he crossed his arms. The fact she was forced to fight was unsettling but being sold was just horrible. Making an effort to face relatively neutral he shrugged slightly awkwardly given his position.

“I heard about Dallas, Well vaguely, I just knew it blew up don’t know the details,” He checked his nails, “Don’t really see the point in exploding a whole city. Building or two perhaps.”

“Won’t worry about having what it takes,” he added, “They let me in. All I done since I got here was get in trouble and annoy Seiya. You seem to know what you’re doing and motivation.” Xander tensed slightly as she kicked the bag. Sure seemed to know what she was doing, supposed she had to if she was fighting in a ring, most likely for her life if he knew anything about Yeerks.

He reached up and grabbed the bar and straightened his legs. Xander lowered them forward and dropped to the ground. Leaning against the support for the pull up bar, he thought about how little he was actually getting done in regards to working out, but he wasn’t bored either.

“Yeah did that to me a bit too,” he added, “but to their credit I wasn’t really paying attention when I first met them.”

[Nineteen]

"There was some kind've sickness in Dallas. Least, the Controllers in Vegas were real worried it'd spread to their city, given they weren't too far apart. It must've been pretty bad for the Yeerks to nuke the whole place -- lots of folks there, human and slug alike." Nineteen shrugged in-between another couple of punches. "Guess they stopped it, whatever it was."

She circled the target a few more times, her mouth drawn into a tight line in concentration. Nineteen hadn't quite broken a sweat yet, but she was definitely warming up now. Letting out a short bark of laughter when Xander said that she looked like she knew what she was doing, she turned towards him briefly, so that she could still strike the target with one hand. "Nah. I mean, I guess I know how to fight other people, but being able to throw a mean left hook doesn't really mean I've got the first clue 'bout fightin' in a war. Motivation, now..." She smirked sharply. "Yeah I've got that. But I figure most've us do."

Nineteen paused her attack on the target for a moment to tie back her hair with a rubber-band she'd been carrying around on her wrist for that purpose. It wasn't the gentlest, but she hadn't really had a real hair-band in what felt like years, and very well could have been.

"What kind of trouble did you get into?" She asked, her mouth turning up in a half grin and she eyed him up and down. He didn't seem like the kind to start a lot of mayhem.

[xander]

“Well that suck,” Xander said flatly, “I hate getting sick but that seems like overkill. Guess I’m glad they got rid of whatever it was but they should have tried penicillin first.”

He shook his head and walked closer to the punching bag. Xander stuck his hands in his camo trouser pockets. “Heard once that an army is made up of soldiers, so knowing how to fight is probably a good thing,” he titled his head, “Now more than me. If they ain’t out it two quick I’m thoroughly screwed.”

While Nineteen tied back her hair Xander walked up to the bag and gave it a poke with two fingers. Had less give then the others he’d seen back it London. Never found himself in a mood to use one. Fighting had never been his thing, and he wasn’t totally kidding about the two punch thing. He had always been more of a runner than a fighter. Served to help him live longer, but given his new job as protector of humanity that may have been in need for correction.

“Just the kind you get in for mouthing off mostly,” he said before quickly saying, “Hey, do you think you could show me a few things?”

[Nineteen]

Nineteen watched Xander poke the target and smiled. Yeah, he seemed like he might mouth-off before getting in some real trouble. She doubted they'd let him turn into anything -- even a cat -- if he'd been a real problem. When he asked her to show him a few moves her eyebrows shot up.

"Um, sure." Nineteen hadn't ever trained anyone, but she didn't really see any harm in helping the kid learn how to throw a few proper punches. Not only did she doubt she'd be pit against him in a fight, but she didn't think he'd be a real threat if she was. If the worst he could do was turn into a bird or something she wasn't about the be worried.

She went over to where she got her handwraps and grabbed another pair. Then she grabbed a pair of boxing gloves as well -- a size that looked like would fit him best. "Here, wrap your hands like this and then pull these gloves on." She held up her hands to demonstrate. "My knuckles are conditioned, yours are gonna look like hamburger meet if you go punching a target without some cushioning." She handed him both the wraps and the gloves.

[xander]

Taking the things Xander dropped the gloves to the ground and started undoing one of the wraps. The thing looked way to long rolled all the way out. As he did what she had shown him the distance was quickly eaten up. After the first hand was done he wiggled his fingers, not liking how constricted they felt. He glanced at Nineteen before wrapping his other hand. When both were done he moved his fingers again, not used to that feeling.

The wraps were nothing to the gloves. Even after curling his fingers all the way the glove barely seemed to move. It was constricting and uncomfortable, and as a result gave Nineteen an eyebrow as if to say “seriously?”. Added with the fact it took him a while to get the second glove on he was sure she thought he was dafty.

“Not much of a grip,” He said holding the gloves up and bending his fingers, again without much of an effect.

“So,” he tried to cross his arms only to be stopped by the gloves. He let out an annoyed sigh and let them hang at his sides, “What now teach?”

[Nineteen]

It took the kid a moment to get used to the wraps, which Nineteen had expected and was therefore patient about. You couldn't expect someone to be comfortable with the constriction if they hadn't experienced it before. She didn't have to direct him too much (a "tighter" here or "looser around your thumb" there) and mostly was just ready to hand him the gloves when he needed them. When he arched an eyebrow at her she laughed quietly. "Yeah, yeah. You'll thank me if you ever try it without the gloves."

She backed away a bit so he had more room near the target. With her foot she tapped the insides of his ankles lightly. "Widen your stance a little. And keep your shoulders loose -- they like to hike up whenever you're using your arms a lot, but it's better to keep them from tensing up."

That said, she went on. "Start with a jab. S'pretty much one of the more standard punches, and a good jab can make a big difference in a fight. Especially if you can do it without telegraphin' -- then you can get the first hit and that can give you time to get away and rethink another angle've attack. Or maybe morph or somethin'." Nineteen had no idea if the latter part was true -- for all she knew he could turn into his otter or whatever in the middle of a fight, or maybe it took some zen-like meditation for two hours.

"Like this." Nineteen lead with her left foot, and did a smooth jab -- without much power or speed behind it -- into the target with her left hand. "You're not worrying right now 'bout moving your feet around, but you still gotta get the rest of your body into it. Lot've the power ain't just comin' from your arm, but your torso."

She extended her arm, fist closed with her palm towards the floor. "Turn your wrist at the last possible moment so that your hand is like this instead've sideways. Gives you a last bit've reach and power. But don't lock your elbow."

Nineteen was not at all sure that she was doing this right. In fact, she was more than a little sure that she wasn't. However, the kid had asked, and she didn't have a problem trying. "Now you try it a couple times."