Aiden froze, only his eyes moving to track Cafas as he circled around him. Definitely feeling like he was about to get eaten right now. In a figurative sense, but if anything that was worse. Now he knew why Persi didn't like this. He really knew. Feeling himself shrinking beneath Cafas' gaze, Aiden abruptly realized that he hadn't actually looked that carefully at the demonstrated pose. Which meant, given Cafas' scrutiny, he was doing it wrong and he was going to get remedial gym for himself and not just for whatever this was and it was going to be way worse and there'd be way more attention on him

He blinked. "What? Fighting? I don't-" Running around with swords so that he could draw them more accurately didn't count, since it wasn't fighting and would never be applied to fighting. Fighting was what bully-type people did and led to bruises and bleeding and pain and nastiness. Even as he spoke (and flailed inside), he broke his stance to scurry a step away, though as usual he maintained his physical balance.

Unfortunately for Aiden's mental balance, though, the movement put him in the perfect position to see Persi hauling his shirt off. Again. His gaze jerked to the fake-tiled floor by his feet. No no no why did he always do that? It wasn't as if they had been doing all that much yet, even if it was too hot to do much of anything willingly, except that none of this was willing so that really didn't apply, but at any rate he needed to stop thinking or his thoughts were going to start circling around and get to something he really really really didn't want to think about, especially here and now and near people.

The rational part of his brain clued in to what the self-preservation part was doing just before his hand slammed into the dummy. This was a good thing, because his hand was most certainly not in the position that Cafas wanted and he probably would have at least sprained something. Since he still didn't have the faintest idea how the supposed healing ability he supposedly had (the existence of which he was starting to doubt, other than its extremely obvious remains), his hand would be quite happy later for the rational part curling it and shifting the angle of his arm so that he did indeed strike the dummy with the heel of his hand.

For now, though, his hand and forearm were insisting that this was not a good thing to continue if he wanted his wrist to be as flexible as he liked it to. It made for a very effective distraction from the stuff in the other part of the room.

Persi paused on the way back to the dummy, in order to glare at Brute. Really? He had to do that? Sure, Persi was perfectly aware he was weak, but he still didn't like having it flaunted around in front of other people. Especially not more than it already was just from how badly he was doing. And there was the accidentally-on-purpose phrasing that called Persi stupid. Really, there were all kinds of reasons to glare at Brute for that comment.

...Getting to go easier was a relief. Which meant that Brute had done something nice, even if it wasn't for nice reasons, which meant that Persi had to be grateful to him. Persi didn't think that there was much of anything worse than humiliating him and forcing him to be grateful for it at the same time. He put up with it for a few minutes, then deliberately threw himself into trying to hit the dummy harder and faster and without pausing between the punches. It was exhausting, but he had some rage to lean on, and if he needed more he could always just think more about what Brute had said. And what he'd probably keep saying, if he was willing to be that horrible. And Persi was just doing worse, since he was focusing on... well, on exhausting himself, rather than on imitating what he was supposed to, and his side was starting to hurt, but he didn't care.

Cafas eyed Aiden. He had a feeling he wasn't being told something here. Also he had to wonder about how oddly Aiden suddenly started behaving. The only thing he could pin it down to was Cafas suggesting he knew how to fight. "Well you move like a fighter, so you've either done some training before, or you're a natural. I've been training martial arts a long time now mate, I recognise a person with prior training when I see one." Persi pushed a few more punches into the dummy. Cafas frowned.

Is there a breeze in here? That’s pretty cold.

Cafas looked around for a second, and for the briefest moment thought he might have seen... No never mind. They were inside, after all. Cafas looked at Aiden again. "Good, keep going with that. I'm just going to check something." Cafas walked to the console and brought up environmental conditions in the room. The danger room was working on keeping the temperature stable, but it was dropping, that was for sure.

I didn't even know it had temperature controls...

Cafas brought up some medical read outs from the two boys. He looked at Persi's, as Aiden seemed, aside from some obvious embarrassment, fine. The readout showed a heap of stuff he didn't understand, but he brought it down to a simpler display. Persi, according to the danger room, aside from being not in peak physical condition, seemed to be lacking food.

He looked over as the blows turned into a flurry. He recognised that face too. He had his own version of it. That was not a good face, if one liked being upright. "Persi, could you come here a sec?"

Aiden Killian, a fighter.

He would laugh about this later, if he ever remembered how to laugh. Or he could at least think that it was worth laughing about by some standards. Later either way. Now wanted defusing. Fast. Except Aiden had never been asked so directly about anything like this, so he didn't know what he was supposed to say or how he was supposed to react or if he could get away with just not answering or if that would make things even worse. He wished he could just curl up in a dark corner somewhere and not exist for a while. He did manage to make the half-garbled babble of uninformatively assembled words go to that corner in his stead, though, and just shook his head and shrugged awkwardly.

Well, at least when he put all of his focus into making himself hit the dummy - over and over and it wasn't getting dented or scratched so he didn't have to change trees and even though it was moving it wasn't human or alive so it didn't feel pain, seriously, it was made out of light so it didn't have nerves or anything and it was designed for this - he did it well enough to satisfy Cafas. And he was going away! Aiden relaxed. Okay, maybe he could survive this. At least he wasn't stupidly hot anymore. The room didn't feel cold, but seeing as how he didn't get cold anymore he couldn't really tell. He was probably just adjusting to the heat, and maybe this place was at least partially cooled. It couldn't be as hot as it was outside, at any rate.

Persi spun and glared at Brute without quite thinking about it, then immediately staggered as a wave of dizziness hit him. Okay, maybe he'd turned too fast. Whatever. He dodged the dummy's reaching for him--because he could dodge just fine, thanks, no matter what Brute thought of it, he'd had plenty of practice at that--and stalked over to Brute. Without stumbling or swaying or anything except the very slight bit of fuzzy sparking feeling that got into his head when he was particularly angry, so that was fine.

Persi stopped by Brute, outside of arm's reach, and didn't bother trying to brush his hair out of his eyes or make it stop sticking to his face and neck. Both were pointless, anyway. Instead he folded his arms, and kept scowling. "What?" This, at least, he was not obligated to be grateful for, because it might mean he didn't have to keep punching but instead it made him deal with Brute, so he was just replacing one obnoxious thing with another, so there was nothing to be grateful for. Which was a relief.

...Which made him kind of grateful.

Damn it.

Persi glared.

That kid has issues...

He was not sure which kid he meant. Possibly both. Persi had triggered it, with his glaring, clear dizziness and the way that what little colour there had been was all kind of missing from his face. When Persi had made his way over, Cafas looked at the med screen, confirmed some hypotheses and looked back at Persi. He kept his voice low enough for Aiden not to hear. "When did you last eat?" It wasn't that weird of a question for a trainer... Not that Persi would know that at all.

silly kid.

The monitors indicated... Wow that was not a good amount of time to go without food. No wonder he was so dizzy. Shaking a bit too. It really was not good to do exercise in that sort of state, not unless you liked the taste of floor... or vomit. "Also, slow down, and remember to breathe. Much as I know you think I'm an idiot, you must at least admit that if there's one thing I would know, it's exercise. You are going to make yourself throw up and pass out if you keep working at that pace." Also some other effects he was sure Persi would neither understand nor care about.

It was honestly getting cold now... According to his screen anyway. Cafas didn't feel it.

...The hell?

Persi forgot all about gratefulness, resentment and glaring in favor of staring blankly at Brute in complete and utter bewilderment. When had he eaten? What did that have to do with... okay, so it did have to do with exercise, but still. Why ask?

...And now that he had asked, when had Persi eaten? The blank look faded into a thoughtful one while he tried to remember. "I had breakfast...." Granted, he'd only had a piece of toast before his stomach decided it refused to let him eat any more, which was hardly a full breakfast, but it still counted. And anyway, Persi wasn't used to eating breakfast at all; he'd only eaten that because he'd hoped to miss lunch while he hid from Brute. "And I ate... something yesterday? I dunno, I wasn't paying attention." And the glare came back, as soon as he realized it was missing. "Why do you care?"

Now that sounded more like Brute. Persi's glare became more intense, and less wary. "Why'd you care about that either? Not like you have an excuse to hit me today." Yet, anyway. At all, now that Persi knew these dummies existed.

His screen did not indicate breakfast. Nothing substantial enough to raise his blood sugar anyway. Yesterday seemed far more accurate. The Danger room agreed. "I care because I wouldn't be training you in the first place if I didn't. Also because it affects training, overall effectiveness, muscle recovery, energy recovery, lots of stuff I'm sure you couldn't care less about." Cafas shook his head and sighed. Persi really wasn't doing himself many favours.

Unsurprisingly...

"And I care about you passing out or throwing up because if you do those in the wrong order, you could die, and both are very bad for you in general. Before you mention it, I would much rather you be alive and annoying me than dead." Cafas really did have trouble believing that Persi could be so utterly deluded into thinking everyone hated him. "I don't want to punch you either. I'm an X-man, I tend to only punch people that are resisting arrest, or where it's needed to protect myself or others. In your case, it was accidental the first two times."

Man he is so...

"Honestly, why are you so paranoid? A word of advice, unless you make it so, noone in this mansion wants to hurt you. Most of us are runaways, most people are just glad to be safe and have people who can see past their mutation around them." Cafas was almost certain Persi wouldn't care, or listen, but you had to try some times.

"Anyway, you want pizza or something?"

Persi wasn't sure whether he was too surprised, too offended, or too confused that Brute was still claiming he cared. He was too something, anyway, his first attempt to talk failed completely, because he couldn't think of anything to say. Really? Just... really? Did Brute expect him to believe any of that? How did he even manage to say it with a straight face? Okay, technically a frowning face, but still. How was that even possible?

The second attempt to speak was much more successful. Persi made no attempt to keep his voice down, thought he didn't really trying to raise it either. It did come out a little bit hoarse from breathing too hard, though. "Okay, first, no, I don't care. Second, do you actually think I'm that stupid? You showed up, started mocking me, keep telling me how I'm just like you only horrible and pathetic and doing everything wrong while you're awesome, and then you drag me outside and punch me in the face, and come up with some bullshit excuse to keep punching me, and expect me to believe you like me? That's not paranoia, that's sanity." Whether the punch was an accident or not--and Persi was not convinced it was--didn't really matter. Dragging him outside sure hadn't been. "And third, I'm pretty sure that if being healthy was your actual concern, you wouldn't pick pizza."

Not that Persi had anything against pizza. It was quite good, and he actually would really like some, damn Brute for asking. It had been a while since he'd had any. But still, that was one of the basic food facts ground into him along with 'dirt is not good to eat;' pizza is unhealthy. It might be food, but it wasn't healthy.

"Okay, first, no, I don't care. Second, do you actually think I'm that stupid? You showed up, started mocking me, keep telling me how I'm just like you only horrible and pathetic and doing everything wrong while you're awesome, and then you drag me outside and punch me in the face, and come up with some bullshit excuse to keep punching me, and expect me to believe you like me? That's not paranoia, that's sanity."

Cafas wasn't quite sure when his frown turned into a smile, but somewhere near sanity.

"And third, I'm pretty sure that if being healthy was your actual concern, you wouldn't pick pizza."

Nope, back to a frown. "I'm going to start with the most serious accusation you just made and work from there. Never again slander the good name of pizza. Anyway, pizza is fine, it's a bit heavy on fats and sodium, but really, who cares, it tastes great. Don't eat it every day and you should be fine." Honestly, kids these days, no respect for pizza at all!

It's tragic really.

"Moving on, you were a smart ass, I retorted. That's how it goes man, it's part of the fun! I over reacted in dragging you out though. I was really dealing with a lot of stress between riot duty and the other crimes and stuff the X-men deal with, sorry." It really had been poor timing for Persi to derail the smartassery into self absorption. Cafas shrugged apologetically.

"And I didn't say you were horrible or pathetic, or that you were doing everything wrong, and I'm sorry you took it that way. I've never been great at giving advice, least of all when I'm stressed. I was just saying I've been where you are man."

Or at least, close enough.

He looked away, wondering where to start. Her frowned down at the console as he picked a point and started. "I was told my whole life that mutants were unnatural and dangerous freaks. My parents tried to kill me when they found out what I was. Got together a proper lynch mob, flaming torches and all. I know better than to hope they'll not try again if I go back. I hated myself for being a mutant. It destroyed my family. Again, not that I imagine you care for my life story that much." His voice carried a wistful melancholy, nostalgia for simpler times, when death wasn't a constant threat and family was something he had.

"That's kind if the reason I want to train you. I barely survived that night. I have only my training to thank for that. God knows I was dead without it. It probably saved me after that too." Cafas gave a rueful smile. and looked back at Persi.

"Funny how often you think about suicide when you're sleeping in a dumpster, or under someone's awning. Training gave me something to focus on, something that didn't let me think about anything else while I did it. I think it's about the only thing that stopped that downward spiral." A spiral that had been reversed by Calley, and that feeling like he was doing something worthwhile with the X-men.

"Knowing how to fight saved my life living on the street too. Boots are an awfully valuable commodity, especially in winter. How messed up is that? People trying to kill me for my shoes." Cafas laughed humourlessly. There really wasn't much else one could do with that.

He figured Persi wasn't listening at this point. "So, I guess, I'm sorry I've been an asshole, and I really am sorry I hit you. I don't expect you to think I like you Persi, and I don't suppose you understand why I care really, but I do. Anyway, let's get some food, we'll pick this lesson up some other time."

Cafas looked over and called out to Aiden. "Aiden, good work man, we'll pick this up some other time, I don't know about you, but I'm hungry, wanna go grab a bite to eat?"

"Pizza is awesome, it's just not healthy." Apparently they agreed about that. Sort of, anyway. Apparently Persi was paying a little more attention to the not healthy part, but it was still prettymuch the same opinion. Agreeing with Brute was really weird. Although Persi was pretty sure that pizza was not the most serious thing in this conversation, so apparently Brute had kind of a bad sense of humor too.

And... that was about where sense stopped. Persi did not have enough energy for this. He was pretty sure having enough energy wouldn't make it make sense, either, and that the way his head was spinning was mostly trying to keep up with way too much information, but still. He'd have preferred that he wasn't hungry (Brute had to point that out) and tired and sweating as well, though he wasn't as hot as he had been. It was still too warm. Probably less than it had been just because he'd now been standing here few a moments.

...When had he started staring at the ground?

Whatever.

Okay, so. Sorting through this. So... Brute was maybe not a universally horrible jerk like it was easy to pretend he was. Persi had been a smartass; he generally was. And he still wasn't sure exactly what had been going on with the riot stuff, but stress made sense. Persi had been stressed too, and sick of being interrupted, even if it was mostly for different reasons. And Brute was apologizing. Persi really, really didn't trust Brute or his apologies, but... it seemed genuine.

Persi would really like to not care about Bruce's family. It would be easier. And it wasn't the same, Persi's family hadn't tried to kill him. They would, but they hadn't, and they wouldn't bother with torches or mobs or anything like that. And being a mutant... probably hadn't broken Persi's family. It sure hadn't helped, it had made things worse, but Persi's family had been pretty broken to start with.

And Persi definitely wasn't using anything he learned to escape, if he could help it. At least, not from his family; he wasn't sure it counted if he was killed by someone else evil like it did if he let himself be killed by good people. Not that it was likely to make a difference anyway, since he ought to have gone with them when they found out... or, really, told them when he found out. That would have been the right thing to do. But he hadn't. Hopefully he could at least keep from making himself even worse than he already had, though, so Persi wasn't doing anything to escape his family when they found him.

Suicide... no. Persi was just... not going to think about that. Bad topic.

Damn it. Why did assholes have to be human? It was so much easier to just hate them.

Well. Fine. So apparently Bruce wasn't completely horrible. He was still wrong, but not completely horrible. "I still suck at sports things." And Persi was still staring at the ground. He tried to fix that, and ended up staring to the side instead. "And even if I didn't, knowing how to punch things isn't going to fix me." Persi was pretty sure nothing could fix him, actually, but even if it was possible, he was certain that punching people wasn't the way to do it. "And... I dunno your name."

That that comment was also a decision that Persi would stop calling Bruce Brute, and stop assuming he was one, was a detail that Persi was perfectly fine with the pink haired guy never knowing.

Oh. Right. Aiden. He was here. And thank God; Persi really needed a distraction now, even if he still wasn't convinced that Aiden didn't hate him. That did not make it any less of a relief to be able to turn away from Bruce to look.

...Was that snow?

Persi blinked, shook his head, turned, and marched off to get his shirt. He really didn't care where they were going, but this entire situation was way too much to stay in right now.

After a while, hitting the dummy really didn't seem all that bad. Truth be told, Ai was actually kinda-sorta maybe almost enjoying the exercise. Not the punching part - even if it wasn't quite as actively bad as he had thought, he still thought it would probably wreck his wrists in the long run, no matter how much and how well he stretched them. He had to do this for Cafas, though, so after only a few jarring impacts, he started pulling his punches, much as he was used to 'tagging' points on a tree to work on precision and accuracy and form, and touched the dummy with just enough force to confirm the hit.

So if he aimed there or there, the dummy would shift to catch his shot, but within this range it held still. Well, making the dummy move all the time made him look sloppy, even if he was picking specific details to aim for, and just standing there punching the exact same spot over and over and over was boring.

When a surreptitious glance around showed that Cafas and Persi were thoroughly occupied a fair distance away, and neither seemed all that interested in paying any attention to what Aiden was doing. Good. He could liven things up a little bit, and make up for potentially damaging his wrists and having to deal with such a shortened range.

Hey, he should have told Cafas that his movement was just from playing keeper. Being light-footed was extremely useful in soccer, especially with a brother who liked playing dirty in order to actually score. It was way too late now, though, and Cafas had dropped it, so he should be okay. He'd just have to keep that one in mind for later. There was an awkward sideways-sinky feeling somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach that this wasn't going to be a singular occurrence. Anyway, though, improving the exercise. Aiden didn't do anything fancy, just started moving from side to side and forwards and backwards a bit to improve his rhythm and keep from falling into a rut and basing each shot off the previous one.

What was Persi complaining about now? Aiden could kind of hear him being louder than he had been, but his focus was fixed on the dummy and he really didn't care what Persi was going on about right now. He could deal with it later. He'd probably have to, since Persi would undoubtedly rant about the training later. He shut out the noise for now and narrowed his attention until everything other than the dummy (well, and the floor and himself) faded out of significance. Step, step, touch the dummy just there, retreat, repeat.

Hm, was that someone calling him? He drifted out of focus, his movements slowing as he gradually came to a halt and turned to face Cafas. By the time his attention settled back to the real world, the light flurry of snow surrounding him had already settled to the ground, though his cheeks and arms were flecked with white; that faded as he padded, entirely oblivious to the wet ground and lingering chill in the air, or that the chill caught up with him a short while after he reached Cafas and Persi, though Persi was moving off (fortunately; Ai could keep from seeing him, for once).

He might notice later that this was probably by far the calmest he'd felt since everything had happened, but for now Aiden just shrugged at Cafas. "I'm fine, but I could eat," he allowed.

"It's not about being good Persi, it's about having something that you have to be completely focused on. I know you like to draw, but you can't tell me that drawing doesn't allow for thought. Good will come with time and practice. Believe me, I sucked when I started, I've just been doing it for a long time." It felt longer every day. "And my name is Cafas."

Listening, often a helpful thing to do.

Now Aiden was padding over. The snow that had been in the air before seemed to have stopped, though he did think it got colder in the room as Aiden approached. Cafas checked the room temperature, and found nothing much in the way of an explanation, for either phenomenon. He glanced with a contemplative frown at Aiden but shook it off.

"Good, you and Persi go change into whatever you want, maybe a shower wouldn't go astray either, given you've been doing exercise. We'll go grab some pizza."

Cafas shut off the simulation. The room went back to looking like a high tech hangar. They had one of those around here too, though only the X-men were allowed in. In theory.

Persi's hair was still wet, but thankfully not dripping, by the time he got outside of the Mansion. And he wasn't shaking or dizzy or anything like that anymore; he was still tired, but only enough to make him very much prefer not moving, not enough to really effect him.

The awkwardness was having a bit more of an effect. Persi's mind was still spinning trying to sort out what to think about Cafas-who-is-apparently-not-a-brute. He was... well, not an asshole, apparently. Or at least not completely; Persi still thought he was that sort of asshole that isn't trying to make everyone miserable, but still does. But since he wasn't trying, he couldn't really be blamed for it, so... he wasn't an asshole. Which made Persi feel bad for being an asshole to him, but he couldn't exactly fix it, so the best he could do was ignore it and hope that there was an opportunity to make up for it sometime.

Aiden... was more confusing. He really seemed to be good at being confusing. Especially on that topic. If Cafas didn't hate Persi, then probably Aiden didn't, but he had made up the thing about Persi tearing a book, and Persi doubted Cafas had come up with that, especially since Cafas didn't hate him. And Aiden hadn't spoken to him the whole time. Not that Persi had said anything either, but still. It was confusing, and awkward, and Persi would be really glad when they found Cafas so that the awkwardness could stop.

Freshly dressed in properly scar-covering clothing, Aiden spent a few minutes wringing the cold water out of his hair and trying to regather all the bits that kept sticking to his skin into a proper ponytail again. When he finally wandered into the more public areas, he figured that Persi had already gone on ahead. He certainly hadn't hurried too much, even if he had already given up on waiting for hot water that just made him overheat even more half the time.

Ai's gait was smooth, almost rolling, as he made his way through the mansion to the entrance. He really shouldn't've let himself get out of habit of exercising. Just sitting around in his room all day, or even just sitting in the woods, well, that just didn't cut it. Surely there was at least some route he could find to run every now and then.

He was still musing on the topic, for the moment fully content with those parts of the world currently impacting him, when he reached the entrance and Persi. Scratching his forehead absently (and making some bits of his bangs stick straight up for a few minutes until their weight finally dragged them back down), he waved absently. "No sign of Cafas yet?" he asked, tone one of idle curiosity, and found himself a shaded bit of wall to lean against. Hm. It was unfortunate that he had already warmed up between the shower and here, but this temperature he could handle. He didn't want to be in the sun unnecessarily, but that wasn't a big deal at this point.