Joshua Hopkins stretched carefully before the class, just as his power-given skill - 'preparation for physical activity' at the moment - told him. He felt a little bad, sometimes, for gaming his powers so much to help himself out in his civilian life, but then he remembered what he'd gone through to get them and any guilt evaporated. Fair is fair; it would be different if he'd just pulled the powers out of a hat, but he'd suffered for them, and they were useful as all hell. For one, they were what let him teach the self-defence class.
It was ironic, he knew, a villain teaching self-defense - and well, too, he prided himself on doing well by his students, even if that made him sound like one of the old masters in the cultivation novels that Leet liked so much - but then it wasn't like they'd ever be likely to turn what they learned against him and Leet. They didn't make a business out of going after civvies or drug-dealing. They weren't a gang.
That was what he told himself, at least. It's for the sake of the games. It's for the art. They'd started off as a distraction more than anything else, then they'd had to steal a couple things for Leet's tech and the next thing they knew they were on the evening news as villains. They hadn't even hurt anyone, not for months. Then there was the GTA thing, and the Final Fantasy caper where he'd clipped a man's arm with Cloud's sword and broken it. And, and, and...
The villain shook himself like a dog and let the stretching-skill drain away in favour of an equal blend of 'coaching' and 'effective self-defence'. The bills on the apartment had to be paid, and there was no way he was risking his and Leet's identities being traced back because of fucking rent money. The class paid well, and it had grown on him anyway.
He cracked his knuckles and strode into the hall of the old community centre where the lessons were held. Fold-up chairs were leaned against the walls, and the crash-mats were still out from the earlier lesson. He grabbed one of the chairs and sat down on it, then pulled out his phone to pass the time.
People trickled in one-by-one. Most were in their late teens or early twenties. A few wore the colours of the Empire, but they were visibly the dregs - a couple of weedy teens who couldn't be more obviously hangers-on if they tried. By the time 11 rolled around, there were about 15 or so.
Josh slipped his phone into his pocket and hopped to his feet. Striding out to the front of the hall. He clapped his hands together to get their attention.
"Alright, so you're all here for the self-defence classes. I'm Joshua Hopkins and I'll be your teacher this morning. Can you line up facing me, please." A minute or so passed as the group shuffled their way into a rough line. The Empire groupies hung together. "First of all, how many of you have got in a fight before? Something serious, I mean, not playground scuffles. Hands up."
All but two hands went up. It was Brockton Bay, after all.
"Who's been taught to fight before? Boxing, martial arts, anything?"
Fewer hands.
"Alright. What I'm going to be teaching you is not how to fight. What I'll be teaching you, as the name of the course suggests, is how to defend yourself. That means that what I'll primarily be teaching is a collection of techniques for disabling an opponent so you can get away, along with a couple for dealing with knives, guns and so on. If you're here looking for ways to start fights, you're going to be disappointed." Sure enough, the Empire groupies looked crestfallen, along with a few others.
He sank into the rhythm of the lesson, obeying the nudges and wordless suggestions of his power. He demonstrated a few basic techniques - a simple throw, a hold that forced the opponent to drop a weapon and a few others - then had his students pair off to practice on each other, starting with the throw. He stalked up and down between the mats, pointing out flaws, giving recommendations and offering praise where warranted.
There were a couple who stood out. One was a guy in his late teens, well-built with short blond hair. He approached each throw with a kind of razored focus which made up for a bit of clumsiness. Another was a tall, skinny girl with long, curly hair and nothing in the way of a chest. She was just… good. Her movements were fast and smooth, she never seemed to lose focus and after ten minutes of throwing, being thrown and getting back up she didn't look tired, even though she didn't look like she exercised all that much. It was kind of scary, actually. She didn't even seem like she was concentrating all too hard, as if her mind was elsewhere. She hadn't put her hand up for having been taught before, either.
Talent, or something else? Josh decided it wasn't his place to pry. Who was he to object if some new cape wanted to learn self-defence? Too many of them got killed off too quickly and even if what he was teaching wouldn't help in the least against Hookwolf it might do something for her if she got stuck in an alley with a gangbanger at some point. He moved on but kept an eye on her as he continued his rounds. Ten minutes later he strode to the front of the hall and called the repetitions to a stop. He opened his mouth and let his power do the talking.
"You're all doing well, although we'll be going over that again in the rest of the sessions. If you want to be able to use this effectively, you need to train it to the point that it's reflex, at least to some degree. The faster you can get the other guy on the ground, the quicker you can get away. Now, for the next part, I'm gonna need someone to help me demonstrate."
He was about to ask for someone to volunteer, then his eyes flickered to tall-and-flat-chest. Why not? "Would you mind?" he asked, pointing.
She froze for a moment, then came forward.
"Thank you. You are…?"
"Taylor."
"Nice to meet you, Taylor. Now, take this" - he handed her a rubber knife - "And stand like this." He demonstrated the stance he wanted. She slipped into it easily and his coaching skill noted the way she imitated his pose perfectly. Damn.
The supervillain ran through the grip in slow-motion, step-by-step, explaining it as he went. "Okay, we're going to try and do it for real, now. Try and stab me."
The first stab was half-hearted and hesitant. He caught it easily and knocked the knife from her hand, then handed it back.
"Faster. Put your back into it; I could have blocked that in my sleep. I can't show how this is meant to go if you do it like that." Sometimes the coaching skill made him feel like a dick - and like his high school gym teacher, which was basically the same thing - but it worked. The girl's - Taylor's - eyes hardened visibly and she lunged forwards with lightning speed, but no technique. It was harder, but he caught the blow again. Again, the rubber knife fell to the floor.
"Much better. Thank you for that. Did you see how I..." Once again Josh sank into the rhythm of the teaching, watching Taylor slink back into line. It had been tempting to escalate, to draw her into a bit of a spar to test out just how good she was, but he couldn't do it now. Not in front of the class.
Josh kept an eye on the dark-haired girl as the lesson continued, but apart from her precision and the way she never seemed to get tired nothing was really out of place. Probably a cape, but it wasn't like he could really do anything with that information – nor did he want to. He and Leet wanted nothing less than to draw attention in the way that unmasking a cape would. Still, any clues about the powers of a newcomer were always welcome. Some kind of low-level brute, he thought, With some kind of reflex-enhancement. Maybe regeneration? After all, brutes tended to be tough or regenerative, and she hadn't shown any real indications of superhuman toughness.
The rest of the lesson slipped by quickly. It seemed only moments before he was saying goodbye to the group and seeing them out the door. The girl gave him a hard look as she strode out into the late morning gloom but left quickly, quickly vanishing around a corner, her big backpack hanging off of one shoulder. She walked with the same mechanical precision as she had fought.
Josh stayed long enough to put the crash mats back in their proper places, then climbed onto his motorbike and wove out into the sparse traffic. Twenty minutes later, he was back at the Most Secret Lair of Uber and Leet ™, an abandoned motel that they'd taken over months ago because Leet's powerometer has registered that the electricity had never been shut off for some reason. Of course, a half-dozen power sources had been added one-by-one whenever the tinker ran out of power.
"Honey, I'm hooome!" he called as he stepped inside, flicking the light in the entrance on and dumping the plastic bag of snacks he picked up on the way on the remains of the receptionist's desk.
"Fuck you," came the muffled voice of his best friend from upstairs. The plastics room, he guessed.
"Love you too. Blown anything up yet?"
"Not so far." There was the sound of feet on the stairs and then Lucas rounded the corner, making a beeline for the food bag. He stuck his head inside, then looked up with a betrayed expression. "No apples?"
Josh tapped his temple. "Power says you eat too much acid."
"But why?! I thought we were friends!"
"I'm not gonna feed your weird apple obsession. You want them, go buy them yourself."
"Stingy fucker."
"Addict."
"Cheater."
"Explode-o-tinker."
They settled easily into the back-and-forth of insults as they climbed the stairs to the undisputed heart of the lair: the game room. It was magnificent: a Leet-brand TV (higher definition than the human eye was capable of perceiving, or at least that was Luke claimed), two top-tier gaming PCs, one of every single console on the market and a couple not on it and, most importantly of all, the best sofa in the world, voted so unanimously. The room was scrupulously clean; no wrappers for the ultimate gaming duo. This was their temple, their holiest of holies.
Josh cracked a grin, remembering the time they'd set up the shrine to the Gaming Greats in the corner: Bowser, Mario, Cloud, Sephiroth, they were all there.
As always, sinking down into the sofa was like sitting on a cloud. Servos whirred quietly, moving the foam pads within the body of the thing so as to provide a place to sit comfortably, but not so much as to result in bad backs after a while. Bliss.
"What d'you wanna play?"
"Monster Hunter?"
"Sure."
The duo settled down to the game, and the girl faded from Josh's mind as he concentrated on bringing down the Hellblade Glavenus.
XxXxX
A/N: Not a massive amount of substance in this update, I know, but it'll become important later.