Jeanne and Fatale | Backdated 2/16
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ax_mainJeanne challenges Fatale to a sparring match. Neither girl emerges unscathed.
Jeanne had decided that it was best that she challenge herself. With the inability to access more challenging simulations outside of a group, she found herself seeking sparring partners. She'd briefly considered Laura, but decided that Laura was, perhaps, a touch out of her league for the moment. Best to start with something more on her level in terms of physicality, but with a challenging power set.
And if intelligence were gathered on their supposed enemies (or rivals; Jeanne was still unsure as to the status of the Brotherhood in relation to the X-Force), all the better.
In her typical gym clothes, Jeanne approached the one known only as Fatale after class. There was no need, in her mind, to beat around the bush. "I have heard of your capabilities," Jeanne said, her tone nearly flat and emotionless as usual. "I am interested in testing myself against them. Would you consider sparring with me?" she asked, curiously.
Well. That was...really fucking interesting, actually. Fatale's eyebrows climbed. "You want to test yourself against a trained assassin," she paraphrased, just to make sure she was getting it right, and that the girl hadn't misheard (because honestly, she wasn't sure there was a gossip mill at this place). "Or is it the terrorist part you're interested in?"
"More accurately, against an individual capable of teleportation," Jeanne clarified. "The activities in which you engage are of no particular importance. Merely your abilities."
Fatale's eyebrows climbed higher. "Pretty sure an ability to kill someone with a knife from across the room is an ability, but whatever." She smirked. "Anyway sure. Sounds fun. Now?" She could do that, right? Just because they'd talked her out of taking hand to hand didn't mean she couldn't handle herself with another student. She and Laura had done just fine.
"And that is the kind of ability I would like to be able to prepare against," Jeanne replied, shrugging. "And now is acceptable," she answered. Figuring that was sufficient, Jeanne turned to lead the way toward the Danger Room.
Yeeaaah, because preparing yourself against an invisible teleporter was easy. Fatale managed to suppress a smirk as she followed the other girl, wondering whether or not she'd heard about that part of her abilities. Whatever. She'd find out soon enough, right? "So, you've heard of me. What do you do?"
"Are you familiar with the concept of photographic memory?" Jeanne asked, rhetorically. "Observing an individual allows me to copy their movements, and extrapolate fighting styles, allowing me to develop countermeasures," she said. "You may notice that at this moment in time, for example, I am mimicking your stride," she said. And she was. "What I have explained is a gross oversimplification of what it is that I do, however," Jeanne said. "It is perhaps more accurate to say that my mind is highly analytical, my memory flawless, and that my muscles instinctively know how to perfectly replicate the movements of others."
"And you're pretty damn full of yourself." Still, she'd asked, and Fatale nodded approval of her skillset. "This should be fun," she observed. Especially since "photographic" suggested the other girl had to see what she was copying. Not a problem.
An idiomatic statement, one with which Jeanne was familiar. "I apologize," she said, though her tone wasn't particularly apologetic. "My abilities make it trivial to excel at almost any mundane task. Hence why I am seeking greater challenges," she explained. "I had heard about your unique capabilities and found myself intrigued." She stopped at the elevator and pressed the call button.
"Yeah, well. I'm pretty intriguing." Fatale smirked. "Anyway, I'm cool with you being full of yourself, provided you can back it up." She pulled an elastic band out of her pocket and set to work pulling her hair back into a ponytail while they waited.
The elevator dinged a moment later, and Jeanne was still parsing Fatale's statement, trying to determine its exact intent, but she decided it was likely simply an amused statement and warranted no reply. "I admit," Jeanne said, stepping into the elevator, "that I am uncertain how I will fare against you. That is part of what this exercise will hopefully determine."
"Guess we'll find out." Still smirking, Fatale followed her in to the elevator. "We're just talking a match, right? No sim? Because I'm not in the mood for dinosaurs or zombies." Fucking around with Tommy, Alex, and Laura was one thing. She hadn't agreed to that, here.
"Just a match," Jeanne confirmed, pressing the button to take them to the basement. "I have found most simulations here to be lacking. Then again, I typically have difficulties finding adequate accessible simulations on my own." She'd been warned by Kitty to avoid tampering with the Danger Room code, and she had since avoided the temptation of doing so, even if it was a harmless endeavor (she always set the code back to the way it had been before upon failing). Not to mention it was entirely fruitless as well, so it was clearly not the solution. Obviously, engaging with these Brotherhood individuals may be the best bet, she imagined, to more advanced training.
"Yeah? I've never used it on my own," Fatale admitted. "We've had some decent group ones, though." Just to save time, she stripped off the sweater she was wearing over a tank top, carefully bending the light to hide the knife strapped to her forearm. No reason the other girl needed to know it was there until the fight started, after all.
"Solo exercises are simply that," Jeanne told her. "They're exercises. Nothing more interesting than moving target practice, generally." The elevator dinged to let them know they'd arrived, and the door slid open. Jeanne led the way out, slipping off her book bag and setting it down near the Danger Room door. The Room wasn't occupied, so they could just go on in, and Jeanne did so.
"Well, moving target practice doesn't suck. I mean, I use Mort, but I have to make sure I don't hit him." Fatale set her sweater and book bag down on the floor beside Jeanne's and headed inside.
"Sometimes, purposefully missing someone is more important than hitting them," Jeanne opined, shrugging as she turned around. "Are you ready?" she asked, wondering if she wanted to stretch. Stretches, for Jeanne, were largely for show. Her muscles always responded properly to her commands; that was just part of her mutation.
"Whenever you are." Fatale smirked and, without further ado, dropped and kicked out at the other girl, trying to sweep her feet out from under her.
Leading with a kick was a test, Jeanne was realizing. Experienced fighters seldom led with their longer limbs; the windup needed and the relative broadcast made them ineffective as opening moves. But clearly Fatale had training; her stance and her poise and form told Jeanne that much.
The tenants of different martial arts she'd studied floated to her head simultaneously. In the end, she elected to take a quick backstep, getting out of reach of Fatale's kick. Best to watch her form for awhile, while she could. See if she could see any particularly great openings.
Okay, the girl did have a clue as to what she was doing. Inwardly, Fatale nodded. That made this more fun, though she didn't doubt she could take the girl easily. Regaining her feet, she started to circle, watching how the other girl moved.
Observation was Jeanne's specialty, and she knew when she was being tested. The circling meant that Fatale was looking for patterns, looking for hints as to how Jeanne herself reacted to certain criteria. Jeanne remained immobile, tracking Fatale only with her eyes.
That was, of course, until Fatale passed out of her vision, and Jeanne sprang into action. Out of equal parts desire to show off her own offensive capabilities and boredom with being observed, Jeanne sprang backward and spun, feinting once with a wide hook punch, and then lunging in, but not too far, with a right cross.
Alright, that was more like it! Fatale ducked away from the blow, the other girl's knuckle passing so close she could feel the heat from her hand, and dove through a portal that reopened behind her opponent. And took a split second to gather the light, rendering her invisible.
She could end it, right there, a voice in her mind reminded her. Just sink the knife into the girl's exposed back. She ignored the thought and instead aimed a blow at the other girl's lower back. It wasn't like sparring with Laura - if she cut this one, it'd stick.
The turning invisible had been unexpected; Jeanne couldn't read her like this. The portal however was less unexpected, and she was already turning; attacking from behind was too obvious, and she was going to punish Fatale for such an obvious tactic. However, being invisible, the blow connected with Jeanne's side as she turned, and Jeanne swept upward with a knee, looking to enter a grapple if she could by trying to seize the girl's offending arm at the same time.
Jeanne's knee connected with Fatale's leg, if only barely, and she stumbled backwards, avoiding the other girl's grab for her arm. Eyes narrowing, she dove through a portal - and came back directly in front of the other girl, fist already swinging for her chin.
The connection from her knee was felt, and Jeanne watched the shimmer and noticed that it didn't so much as move, instead as come closer. More aggressive. She anticipated a body-blow, but guarded her head instead; that was the primary rule of an unseen attacker. The blow aimed at her chin instead connected with her arm, and Jeanne's retaliation was to try to seize the offending arm with her other hand.
Fatale proved too slippery, and Jeanne was looking for the telltale sign of a portal, as she wasn't hearing any footsteps. Jeanne kept her head on a swivel, and caught the shimmering indicator of a portal, and she launched a punch that would hopefully be unexpected. She grunted only slightly when a blow struck her simultaneously, as she felt her fist connect with... well, she couldn't tell what part of Fatale, but she slipped away again before Jeanne could get her in a grapple. Again, Fatale opened another portal. And Jeanne kept her eyes open and her head moving. The glimmer gave it away, but it was becoming apparent by the time Jeanne was growing impatient with the style of fighting that there was a hint of predictability to this, and with every blow, despite some of Fatale's punches landing solidly on Jeanne's body and even once in the face, Jeanne was learning. This pattern continued, and it was a pattern. A difficult one with some variations, but a pattern nonetheless.
These tactics were fine against your run of the mill fighters and what Jeanne imagined Fatale might call 'mooks,' but against someone of her caliber, the unpredictability factor was needed. Another thrust-punch, from what Jeanne was guessing, and she moved her head out of the way, finally getting a bead on how Fatale was typically moving. She didn't have time to counterattack yet, though.
Jeanne caught a trace of glimmer on the floor nearby, and turned, betting on counterclockwise. Instead, she was met with a blow to her back, which would have been to her side, but the way she stepped made it connect with her shoulder rather than her head. "Good," Jeanne said, seeming unfazed by the strike, despite the pain. She turned to see another telltale glimmer on the floor, and she turned, this time counterclockwise again, figuring Fatale would think she would rely on her being predictable.
It turned out that Jeanne was right. The portal was low and Jeanne heard a slight thump as Fatale probably dropped low. Given how she normally had been striking, Jeanne put her leg forward in a downward thrust, intercepting the sweep meant to take her off her feet. "Your invisibility helps far less if you remain predictable," Jeanne said. "Pattern recognition is one of my many skills."
There was only one way to level the playing field against an invisible foe, and that was grappling. This time, with her leg momentarily stopped and Fatale likely off-balanced from the interception, Jeanne dropped low herself, striking out with an elbow and attempting to wrangle Fatale's halted leg, which worked. Jeanne's elbow connected with, well, some part of Fatale, and Jeanne was attempting to leverage herself onto Fatale to pin her.
You're too fucking predictable, a much harsher voice than the girl's echoed in her mind as she dropped, pulling her leg down out of the other girl's hands. She kicked up with the other, and let the momentum carry her over and into a crouch. Again, faster. The scene around her narrowed, eyes focusing in on her opponent. Pattern recognition meant she needed to do something unpredictable, so instead of opening a portal, she instead dove forward, grabbing for the other girl's legs to knock her over.
No portal, from what Jeanne saw, as she was recovering from lowering herself. No footsteps. A momentary blink of recognition flashed across her face, and Jeanne had the slightest hint of a smirk on her lips when Fatale's tackle connected.
Good. Right where she wanted her. Quickly, Jeanne, being able to determine with this proximity to her body where it was precisely, Jeanne put her forearm across Fatale's neck in an arm-bar, pushing up with, she noted, some difficulty with hte rest of her body, turning them both over so that Jeanne could get her pinned, Jeanne atop her now, with her forearm against Fatale's neck. Of course, she wasn't going to escalate any further than that. Fatale, Jeanne imagined, would probabl admit defeat at that point.
No! Fatale's eyes widened when she realized she'd been pinned, and she felt her heart and breathing speed up. No. This wasn't happening. Not again, not yet. It was too soon, too early in the fight, and...no. She was better than this. Should be. Had to be. If she only had -
She did. There was a reason why she hadn't used it (were there rules? sometimes there were rules, and breaking them would be worse than losing too early, but things were fuzzy and she couldn't remember). A flick of her wrist, and the hilt slid into her hand, reassuringly solid, and she let instinct take over and drove the point, hard, into the girl's upper arm, hoping it would be enough to startle her into letting go.
The only reaction Jeanne had to the knife stab was her eyes widening, and her response was immediate, and for her part, restrained yet ruthless.
Judging by the angle of origin for the stab and the fact that she could still feel the blade within her, Jeanne was able to immediately seize Fatale's wrist, twisting and hearing a loud pop as Fatale's wrist broke, but more than anything, Jeanne began to stand, keeping the knife (though it was invisible, which made it awkward) and releasing Fatale from the pin in favor of keeping the blade in to keep the bleeding to a minimum.
"Well done," Jeanne said, a slight touch of admiration and respect creeping into her otherwise deadpan tone.
Huh? Trembling and clutching her arm to her chest, Fatale awkwardly sat up. Well done - it had been a test, then. Except the girl wasn't one of her trainers, and...
Fuck. Reality crept back in, and Fatale felt a surge of nausea only partially caused by the pain in her wrist. She'd...damn it, they'd been right, hadn't they? She shouldn't have... "I'm sorry," she managed to choke out as she scrambled to her feet and opened a portal. Jeanne was standing and seemed okay; she could get herself to the infirmary. She was out of here, while she still could.
Well, that wasn't an anticipated response, considering what she'd heard about Fatale. She glanced around to see if Fatale had merely reappeared elsewhere in the Danger Room, but she hadn't. Best to go to the infirmary then. Perhaps with a few mirrors she could stitch herself up. At the very least, she wasn't yet leaving a blood trail on her way out of the Danger Room.
Jeanne had decided that it was best that she challenge herself. With the inability to access more challenging simulations outside of a group, she found herself seeking sparring partners. She'd briefly considered Laura, but decided that Laura was, perhaps, a touch out of her league for the moment. Best to start with something more on her level in terms of physicality, but with a challenging power set.
And if intelligence were gathered on their supposed enemies (or rivals; Jeanne was still unsure as to the status of the Brotherhood in relation to the X-Force), all the better.
In her typical gym clothes, Jeanne approached the one known only as Fatale after class. There was no need, in her mind, to beat around the bush. "I have heard of your capabilities," Jeanne said, her tone nearly flat and emotionless as usual. "I am interested in testing myself against them. Would you consider sparring with me?" she asked, curiously.
Well. That was...really fucking interesting, actually. Fatale's eyebrows climbed. "You want to test yourself against a trained assassin," she paraphrased, just to make sure she was getting it right, and that the girl hadn't misheard (because honestly, she wasn't sure there was a gossip mill at this place). "Or is it the terrorist part you're interested in?"
"More accurately, against an individual capable of teleportation," Jeanne clarified. "The activities in which you engage are of no particular importance. Merely your abilities."
Fatale's eyebrows climbed higher. "Pretty sure an ability to kill someone with a knife from across the room is an ability, but whatever." She smirked. "Anyway sure. Sounds fun. Now?" She could do that, right? Just because they'd talked her out of taking hand to hand didn't mean she couldn't handle herself with another student. She and Laura had done just fine.
"And that is the kind of ability I would like to be able to prepare against," Jeanne replied, shrugging. "And now is acceptable," she answered. Figuring that was sufficient, Jeanne turned to lead the way toward the Danger Room.
Yeeaaah, because preparing yourself against an invisible teleporter was easy. Fatale managed to suppress a smirk as she followed the other girl, wondering whether or not she'd heard about that part of her abilities. Whatever. She'd find out soon enough, right? "So, you've heard of me. What do you do?"
"Are you familiar with the concept of photographic memory?" Jeanne asked, rhetorically. "Observing an individual allows me to copy their movements, and extrapolate fighting styles, allowing me to develop countermeasures," she said. "You may notice that at this moment in time, for example, I am mimicking your stride," she said. And she was. "What I have explained is a gross oversimplification of what it is that I do, however," Jeanne said. "It is perhaps more accurate to say that my mind is highly analytical, my memory flawless, and that my muscles instinctively know how to perfectly replicate the movements of others."
"And you're pretty damn full of yourself." Still, she'd asked, and Fatale nodded approval of her skillset. "This should be fun," she observed. Especially since "photographic" suggested the other girl had to see what she was copying. Not a problem.
An idiomatic statement, one with which Jeanne was familiar. "I apologize," she said, though her tone wasn't particularly apologetic. "My abilities make it trivial to excel at almost any mundane task. Hence why I am seeking greater challenges," she explained. "I had heard about your unique capabilities and found myself intrigued." She stopped at the elevator and pressed the call button.
"Yeah, well. I'm pretty intriguing." Fatale smirked. "Anyway, I'm cool with you being full of yourself, provided you can back it up." She pulled an elastic band out of her pocket and set to work pulling her hair back into a ponytail while they waited.
The elevator dinged a moment later, and Jeanne was still parsing Fatale's statement, trying to determine its exact intent, but she decided it was likely simply an amused statement and warranted no reply. "I admit," Jeanne said, stepping into the elevator, "that I am uncertain how I will fare against you. That is part of what this exercise will hopefully determine."
"Guess we'll find out." Still smirking, Fatale followed her in to the elevator. "We're just talking a match, right? No sim? Because I'm not in the mood for dinosaurs or zombies." Fucking around with Tommy, Alex, and Laura was one thing. She hadn't agreed to that, here.
"Just a match," Jeanne confirmed, pressing the button to take them to the basement. "I have found most simulations here to be lacking. Then again, I typically have difficulties finding adequate accessible simulations on my own." She'd been warned by Kitty to avoid tampering with the Danger Room code, and she had since avoided the temptation of doing so, even if it was a harmless endeavor (she always set the code back to the way it had been before upon failing). Not to mention it was entirely fruitless as well, so it was clearly not the solution. Obviously, engaging with these Brotherhood individuals may be the best bet, she imagined, to more advanced training.
"Yeah? I've never used it on my own," Fatale admitted. "We've had some decent group ones, though." Just to save time, she stripped off the sweater she was wearing over a tank top, carefully bending the light to hide the knife strapped to her forearm. No reason the other girl needed to know it was there until the fight started, after all.
"Solo exercises are simply that," Jeanne told her. "They're exercises. Nothing more interesting than moving target practice, generally." The elevator dinged to let them know they'd arrived, and the door slid open. Jeanne led the way out, slipping off her book bag and setting it down near the Danger Room door. The Room wasn't occupied, so they could just go on in, and Jeanne did so.
"Well, moving target practice doesn't suck. I mean, I use Mort, but I have to make sure I don't hit him." Fatale set her sweater and book bag down on the floor beside Jeanne's and headed inside.
"Sometimes, purposefully missing someone is more important than hitting them," Jeanne opined, shrugging as she turned around. "Are you ready?" she asked, wondering if she wanted to stretch. Stretches, for Jeanne, were largely for show. Her muscles always responded properly to her commands; that was just part of her mutation.
"Whenever you are." Fatale smirked and, without further ado, dropped and kicked out at the other girl, trying to sweep her feet out from under her.
Leading with a kick was a test, Jeanne was realizing. Experienced fighters seldom led with their longer limbs; the windup needed and the relative broadcast made them ineffective as opening moves. But clearly Fatale had training; her stance and her poise and form told Jeanne that much.
The tenants of different martial arts she'd studied floated to her head simultaneously. In the end, she elected to take a quick backstep, getting out of reach of Fatale's kick. Best to watch her form for awhile, while she could. See if she could see any particularly great openings.
Okay, the girl did have a clue as to what she was doing. Inwardly, Fatale nodded. That made this more fun, though she didn't doubt she could take the girl easily. Regaining her feet, she started to circle, watching how the other girl moved.
Observation was Jeanne's specialty, and she knew when she was being tested. The circling meant that Fatale was looking for patterns, looking for hints as to how Jeanne herself reacted to certain criteria. Jeanne remained immobile, tracking Fatale only with her eyes.
That was, of course, until Fatale passed out of her vision, and Jeanne sprang into action. Out of equal parts desire to show off her own offensive capabilities and boredom with being observed, Jeanne sprang backward and spun, feinting once with a wide hook punch, and then lunging in, but not too far, with a right cross.
Alright, that was more like it! Fatale ducked away from the blow, the other girl's knuckle passing so close she could feel the heat from her hand, and dove through a portal that reopened behind her opponent. And took a split second to gather the light, rendering her invisible.
She could end it, right there, a voice in her mind reminded her. Just sink the knife into the girl's exposed back. She ignored the thought and instead aimed a blow at the other girl's lower back. It wasn't like sparring with Laura - if she cut this one, it'd stick.
The turning invisible had been unexpected; Jeanne couldn't read her like this. The portal however was less unexpected, and she was already turning; attacking from behind was too obvious, and she was going to punish Fatale for such an obvious tactic. However, being invisible, the blow connected with Jeanne's side as she turned, and Jeanne swept upward with a knee, looking to enter a grapple if she could by trying to seize the girl's offending arm at the same time.
Jeanne's knee connected with Fatale's leg, if only barely, and she stumbled backwards, avoiding the other girl's grab for her arm. Eyes narrowing, she dove through a portal - and came back directly in front of the other girl, fist already swinging for her chin.
The connection from her knee was felt, and Jeanne watched the shimmer and noticed that it didn't so much as move, instead as come closer. More aggressive. She anticipated a body-blow, but guarded her head instead; that was the primary rule of an unseen attacker. The blow aimed at her chin instead connected with her arm, and Jeanne's retaliation was to try to seize the offending arm with her other hand.
Fatale proved too slippery, and Jeanne was looking for the telltale sign of a portal, as she wasn't hearing any footsteps. Jeanne kept her head on a swivel, and caught the shimmering indicator of a portal, and she launched a punch that would hopefully be unexpected. She grunted only slightly when a blow struck her simultaneously, as she felt her fist connect with... well, she couldn't tell what part of Fatale, but she slipped away again before Jeanne could get her in a grapple. Again, Fatale opened another portal. And Jeanne kept her eyes open and her head moving. The glimmer gave it away, but it was becoming apparent by the time Jeanne was growing impatient with the style of fighting that there was a hint of predictability to this, and with every blow, despite some of Fatale's punches landing solidly on Jeanne's body and even once in the face, Jeanne was learning. This pattern continued, and it was a pattern. A difficult one with some variations, but a pattern nonetheless.
These tactics were fine against your run of the mill fighters and what Jeanne imagined Fatale might call 'mooks,' but against someone of her caliber, the unpredictability factor was needed. Another thrust-punch, from what Jeanne was guessing, and she moved her head out of the way, finally getting a bead on how Fatale was typically moving. She didn't have time to counterattack yet, though.
Jeanne caught a trace of glimmer on the floor nearby, and turned, betting on counterclockwise. Instead, she was met with a blow to her back, which would have been to her side, but the way she stepped made it connect with her shoulder rather than her head. "Good," Jeanne said, seeming unfazed by the strike, despite the pain. She turned to see another telltale glimmer on the floor, and she turned, this time counterclockwise again, figuring Fatale would think she would rely on her being predictable.
It turned out that Jeanne was right. The portal was low and Jeanne heard a slight thump as Fatale probably dropped low. Given how she normally had been striking, Jeanne put her leg forward in a downward thrust, intercepting the sweep meant to take her off her feet. "Your invisibility helps far less if you remain predictable," Jeanne said. "Pattern recognition is one of my many skills."
There was only one way to level the playing field against an invisible foe, and that was grappling. This time, with her leg momentarily stopped and Fatale likely off-balanced from the interception, Jeanne dropped low herself, striking out with an elbow and attempting to wrangle Fatale's halted leg, which worked. Jeanne's elbow connected with, well, some part of Fatale, and Jeanne was attempting to leverage herself onto Fatale to pin her.
You're too fucking predictable, a much harsher voice than the girl's echoed in her mind as she dropped, pulling her leg down out of the other girl's hands. She kicked up with the other, and let the momentum carry her over and into a crouch. Again, faster. The scene around her narrowed, eyes focusing in on her opponent. Pattern recognition meant she needed to do something unpredictable, so instead of opening a portal, she instead dove forward, grabbing for the other girl's legs to knock her over.
No portal, from what Jeanne saw, as she was recovering from lowering herself. No footsteps. A momentary blink of recognition flashed across her face, and Jeanne had the slightest hint of a smirk on her lips when Fatale's tackle connected.
Good. Right where she wanted her. Quickly, Jeanne, being able to determine with this proximity to her body where it was precisely, Jeanne put her forearm across Fatale's neck in an arm-bar, pushing up with, she noted, some difficulty with hte rest of her body, turning them both over so that Jeanne could get her pinned, Jeanne atop her now, with her forearm against Fatale's neck. Of course, she wasn't going to escalate any further than that. Fatale, Jeanne imagined, would probabl admit defeat at that point.
No! Fatale's eyes widened when she realized she'd been pinned, and she felt her heart and breathing speed up. No. This wasn't happening. Not again, not yet. It was too soon, too early in the fight, and...no. She was better than this. Should be. Had to be. If she only had -
She did. There was a reason why she hadn't used it (were there rules? sometimes there were rules, and breaking them would be worse than losing too early, but things were fuzzy and she couldn't remember). A flick of her wrist, and the hilt slid into her hand, reassuringly solid, and she let instinct take over and drove the point, hard, into the girl's upper arm, hoping it would be enough to startle her into letting go.
The only reaction Jeanne had to the knife stab was her eyes widening, and her response was immediate, and for her part, restrained yet ruthless.
Judging by the angle of origin for the stab and the fact that she could still feel the blade within her, Jeanne was able to immediately seize Fatale's wrist, twisting and hearing a loud pop as Fatale's wrist broke, but more than anything, Jeanne began to stand, keeping the knife (though it was invisible, which made it awkward) and releasing Fatale from the pin in favor of keeping the blade in to keep the bleeding to a minimum.
"Well done," Jeanne said, a slight touch of admiration and respect creeping into her otherwise deadpan tone.
Huh? Trembling and clutching her arm to her chest, Fatale awkwardly sat up. Well done - it had been a test, then. Except the girl wasn't one of her trainers, and...
Fuck. Reality crept back in, and Fatale felt a surge of nausea only partially caused by the pain in her wrist. She'd...damn it, they'd been right, hadn't they? She shouldn't have... "I'm sorry," she managed to choke out as she scrambled to her feet and opened a portal. Jeanne was standing and seemed okay; she could get herself to the infirmary. She was out of here, while she still could.
Well, that wasn't an anticipated response, considering what she'd heard about Fatale. She glanced around to see if Fatale had merely reappeared elsewhere in the Danger Room, but she hadn't. Best to go to the infirmary then. Perhaps with a few mirrors she could stitch herself up. At the very least, she wasn't yet leaving a blood trail on her way out of the Danger Room.
