Old Habits Die Hard (Forte)

The roar of a motorcycle engine was just one of many sounds among the many that filled the air on this overcast New York Day. But to Kyle, it was a sound he'd not heard for so long, it might have been the only sound in the world.

Only days ago, Kyle had been the prisoner of a secret government unit, kept in stasis while scientists examined him. He could barely remember how they'd managed to take him by surprise, his memory of that time hazed by drugs and a prolonged time in sleep. The unit, under the command of someone they referred to only as "The General", were tasked with finding a way to harvest a mutant's power, to combine them in a subject to create the perfect mutant. The perfect weapon to wage war against the mutants they so hated. And Kyle, among a few others, had been one of their most promising subjects, for they held a powerful mutation that could hold the key to unlocking the secret.

Thankfully, due to the timely intervention of Aurion, Allison and Aura, Kyle had been spared that fate. With their help, Kyle had managed to break free of the stasis that held him and, after getting his bearing, assisted in destroying the facility that had been holding them. The General had escaped, for now, but at least his experiments were at an end. For now. But Kyle had no doubt he would return sooner or later and when he did, Kyle would be waiting.

For now, however, it was back to life as usual. Or at least partially. Kyle's time in stasis had changed him. Before, his mind and body had craved battle, his personality one born of eagerness to prove himself and a lust for combat that few could match. Some might have called it borderline insanity; others would have referred to him as simply giddy. But that part of him had died during his time in the tank. No, not quite died. But fused with the part of him that rationally handled matters, along with his emotional and caring side. What had left that tank had been a new man, in certain aspects. Now Kyle was, well, not cold, but his expression was often locked into one of serious thought, his actions defined no longer by chaos but control. It was like being born anew. And this Kyle knew exactly what he wanted.

But he was thinking too much, especially while driving a bike through the crowded streets of New York. Bringing his mind back to the present, Kyle's eyes lifted just in time to spy something that caused him to pull over to watch. A woman, blond in the color of her hair and rugged in her clothing, approaching a side street vendor, one of the many that managed to appear on the streets of this city. Folding his arms across his chest, Kyle watched with a slight disgust as the woman reached into the vendor's display and come out a moment later with something in her hand; somethings that were colored and shaped like money.

Beneath his visor, his eyes were cold and calculating. Even before the woman had moved past the vendor, Kyle had driven ahead of her, moving his bike into a spot on the side of the road. Paying the toll with a quick flick of his wrist, Kyle waited until the woman was passing him before stepping in front of her, his face still hidden beneath his dark helmet and his arms held loosely at his sides, his dark jacket and pants hiding the outfit beneath.

"It's not polite to steal, ma'am. Especially from someone who probably needs that money for a reason greater than yours. Hand it over."

The advantage of wearing something that concealed the entirely of your facial expressions was that no one could see your reaction. As long as one kept their body language as neutral as well, a person with a concealed face could be as unmovable as a statue. That cool, cold state was often more unnerving to most then anger or wanton glee. It also spoke volumes towards just how much the being utilizing it didn't care...about anything.

It was a new kind of approach for Kyle, but he'd settled into it with the ease of a master. It likely had something to do with the bottoming out of his mental state, which slowly rose back up to create this new Kyle. Building from scratch was easier then trying to mold a defective model into the better shape, after all. Nevertheless, his new outlook on life and his approach to it had changed drastically...and it was interesting in its own right to see how it now affected the odd experience on top of the casual.

For once, everything was clear to Kyle. And it made it a heck of a lot easier to handle things then before.

In response to the woman who had just outright dodged his words by feigning innocence, Kyle's answer was simple. It was silence. Complete and utter silence, his body unmoving and still as death. Behind his helmet, his eyes watched the woman with a general lack of interest, yet studying her body intently, watching for a motion of any kind that would signal her discomfort reaching a fever pitch. He didn't have to wait long, her body tensing as he mouth went to move again. It was then that his voice came again, muffled by the helmet, but no less dark or flat.

"You know exactly what money I speak of, young lady. And while petty crime is something I could easily have ignored, your terrible choice of victim I could not. Save yourself and me the trouble and hand it over. Now."

There was a certain kind of authority behind that voice now; one that said he wasn't messing around and that if needed, he could back up his words with just the proper amount of action. And it would be action that she would not like at all.

There was a slight huff from Kyle at the woman's words; from her perspective, it might not have been much more than a shrug of his shoulders. In truth, it was the whisper of a laugh, barely managing to escape his tightly controlled emotions. The woman put on a tough face, an extremely tough face. It would not be the first time Kyle had encountered such a woman, especially in this town. Weakness attracted trouble and by showing as little of it as possible, you reduced the chance of becoming a victim.

That aside, Kyle's studying of the woman intensified. The woman was putting up a solid front and from the way she casually blew his words aside proved one of two things; she was a master at bluffing or she had cause to be confident. A weapon perhaps, hidden away out of sight. His eyes narrowed slightly in his helmet as his mind considered another option; he was dealing with a mutant. Which just made his opinion of the woman lower if that was the truth.

Again, that aside, Kyle started mentally preparing himself for trouble. He'd come across enough women in this city with powerful secrets to know not to take any of them lightly. But there was something about the way she stood, the way one shoulder was slightly higher then the other. An injury perhaps? Something to take note of.

Casually, he folded his arms across his chest, regarding the woman patiently as he waited to see if she acted. "Oh, is that so? I'm merely trying to end this without violence, though I will not hesitate to use it if cause arises. I'm also stating things as fact; you will return that money to that man, one way or another. Last chance. Return the money to the man peacefully. But try something funny...I wouldn't mind teaching a lesson today."

There was nothing that Kyle didn't see. His eyes had been watching her closely, looking for the first possible sign of trouble to appear, whether it be the activation of a possible power or the intent to move. Belatedly, there was the chance that her powers would involve something he couldn't see coming, such as a mental attack or the moving of an element around him. It mattered not; he had laid down the challenge, in a matter of speaking, and now was the time for things to get direct.

His eyes caught that flash of green between her fingers, his eyes narrowing slightly under his helmet at the sight. So...her attack would likely come from her hands or at the very least, require her to move her hands in a way that would signal an incoming attack. That made things simpler, in some aspects. Kyle would not let his guard down over that fact though. He'd come far too close to trouble by mistaking his foes for being weaker then him before. Not this time.

When she made no immediate move, however, Kyle's eyebrow did a trademark lift of confusion. Ah, but of course. She was waiting for him to make the first move, to reveal something about himself before she exposed whatever trick made her fingers tingle green. Clever little duckling. Well, two could play that game, if need be. Slowly and calmly, Kyle lifted one of his hands up towards his helmet and grasped the base of it...only to push a small button built into the right cheek. There was a little click, the hissing of something moving...and then the helmet changed.

Morphed would be more specific. The helmet, custom made for this very purpose, started shifting. Parts moved into different locations, locking into place with a simple click. People on the street, the few that were there, were finally managing to notice something was about to go down and were very slowly moving out of harm's way. That was good; Kyle didn't have time to worry about them if it came down to trouble. With a final click, his helmet locked into place and his eyes,cold and passionateness, stared down at the woman in front of him.

"I'll meet your quip with my own; what makes you think you can beat me?"

His arm flexed ever so slightly, the muscles in his body eager to be put to use again after being restrained for so long. Still, eager or not, making a bad move would be in his worse interest, so he started simple. There was a garbage bag sitting at the entrance to the nearby alley, well within reach. So, with one simple motion, he grabbed the bag and flung it towards the woman, obscuring his sight of her just slightly...and then he crouched his legs slightly. To watch. To learn. And then to act.

A normal person might have used the garbage bag as a distraction, a way to charge forward while the other was focused on an incoming target to mount a surprise attack. Kyle, however, rarely did what most considered the logical course of action. He was playing a far more telling game. The bag served two purposes, though whether or it would serve only one or both remained to be seen. It would either get her to reveal her power or reveal about abilities that might lie aside from them. Both would give Kyle knowledge and possible insight into how to approach her physically and in a battle of mutants, the slightest advantage could mean the difference.

In this case, the frontal bag attack gave him a good, solid look at how quick on her feet this woman seemed to be. Quick...and flexible. One instant, she had been standing her ground. The next, her feet were flying through the air as she backlipped, from dead standing no less, and landed a few steps away from where the bag hit the ground with a sloppy splash. The wind was in his favor, for the moment, but that didn't mean he couldn't smell the day old refuse that leaked from the torn bag. A smell that made the woman take a few more steps back.

When she looked back at him, her body language was obviously expecting that follow up. Instead, all she would see is him, standing there, arms folded across his chest, his head tilted slightly to the side. Observing her. Waiting to see what play she would choose to make next.

She did not disappoint. In one deft motion, the woman produced a small metal rod from beneath her pant leg, a small metal rod that became a staff in an instant. "A bo staff? Interesting choice of weapons." he mused to himself. She swung it around a few times, an obvious show to prove that she knew quite possibly how to use the thing in a dangerous manner, then dared him with her eyes to make a move. Inwardly, he smirked at this show of defiance. Outwardly, his mask remained unchanged.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled down the zipper of his jacket and removed the article of clothing, revealing the outfit he wore beneath. Most people would scoff at it, something Kyle was all too aware of. He just didn't care what they thought. Tossing the jacket lightly to the side, landing on his bike with practiced ease, Kyle rolled his shoulders...and then flexed his arms. With a small clang, the steel blades that were attached to his arm guards snapped into view, glinting in the reflected light from around them.

His eyes remained perfectly calm, his stance neutral. Until he moved. Then he was a blur; not super speed or anything of those sorts. But speed garned from years of training and fighting and experience. And now, instead of a charge full of cocky arrogance, there was now a silent whisper of cool understanding...and purpose. Kyle knew he had speed and he knew how to use it. In a flash of motion, two more bags were sailing through the air, both level with her eyes. They would fill her entire field of vision...and force her to block or dodge.

And when she did either, Kyle would be waiting, his arm held back slightly for a punch that would aim for her eyes. Yet, he was also being careful; the other arm was ready to block any incoming counter and if her dodge should take her into the way of the arm blade, then he knew how to twist and turn to make sure it didn't cause any damage. Any serious damage, anyway.

Kyle tracked the woman's progress with that unfaltering gaze of his, keeping her in his line of sight as he closed the distance between them. As anticipated, she evaded the bags by rolling out of their direct path, coming quickly to her feet and bringing the staff up in a cross-body block. It was that simple fact that prevented his blow from getting through, especially considering he had shifted the blade to compensate for her new position.

Steel rang upon steel as his blade smashed into her staff, the slight vibration that tingled up his arm muted easily enough by his guard and strong arms. The moment his weapon had made contact with the woman's, Kyle had retracted from her, adjusting his stance for the counterattack he knew would be coming. Luckily, they would have plenty of room now; what passerbys that hadn't been scared off initially had fled the moment the two metal weapons had made beautiful music. The music of battle.

The woman shifted her body, pivoting herself and the pole towards him, a play to push him away. Planting his feet solidly, Kyle met the staff with his arm, the sound of steel harmonizing with more steel echoing into the open arm again as he did so. Then the woman played for his legs with the other end of the staff, bringing it down to crash against his knee. A simple push forward and steadying of his stance put the steel boot that covered most of his lower legs into the warpath and steel rang again.

Kyle wasted as little time as possible before returning the favor. He sent blows striving for her face, her body, her shoulders...anyplace he could see an opening he could exploit. He switched from offense to defense as quickly as he needed to, beginning the long battle to see who was the quicker on the draw. But he didn't play fair at all; one of his more serious blows he sent for her face, only to suddenly redirect it at an angle towards her chest instead. If that one failed, a feint to her leg that would shift to her side. Then a blow for the chest that snapped up to her face suddenly instead. She'd have to be on her toes to see the motive's hidden behind the screen of blows.

And it was finally starting to get interesting.

Kyle ducked a counter attack neatly, shifting his upper body back so that the edge of her staff missed it by a few inches before shifting his weight forward again to send a punch back her way. A punch which she countered by putting the staff in the way.

The little lady was capable, no doubt about that. She'd managed to evade several strikes that, were she a lesser opponent, would have crippled her ability to fight or put her down hard. True, she was avoiding most of them by the skin of her teeth, but how much you evaded an attack mattered only by a slight. Yes, it would have been more impressive if she had been already long gone before the blow or manuevered it into a powerful counter-attack...but in the fight to stay alive, impressive was a crock. She dodged the blow; that was all that mattered.

She wasn't always lucky though, to Forte's advantage. One of his blades gave her a small nick, nothing serious or fatal. But a slight difference, a little farther into the strike and it could have been. And that mattered.

The hit seemed to drive that point home into the little lady, who suddenly switched her offensive for better. A strong, open swing suddenly became a missile from below, striking up towards his head with violent intentions. If Kyle did nothing, , the blow would likely catch his chin. Being a fighter, he knew what would happen then; if he wasn't flat on his back, he'd be stunned for a moment and that would be unacceptable. But because he was a fighter, he was already aware of this and already moving.

Stepping into the strike and shifting his body slightly, he took the blow on his shoulder instead of his chin. Pain, brief yet loud, shrugged from the area of impact, but Kyle fought it down with the experience of long years of practice. His move had also served another purpose; she'd have to pull the staff back in order to make another move, trapped as it was from going up by his shoulder. He made two quick moves in that moment; one hand reached up to snag her staff before she could move. The other stayed ready for a counter attack.

And his leg snapped out at hers, aiming to buckle her at the knee before snapping up with his own knee to catch her on the down low. She could counter it, if she was good enough, in which case he'd have to act quick to avoid damage himself. But, some small part of him gathered that the surprise and advantage would win him this exchange.