CLASS: Character, Leadership, Academics, Service Success. Also known as, a overly fancy gym.Sure it could meet virtually any need, but all that was needed was some mats on the floor. Practicing martial arts didn’t require fancy.

A group had congregated in CLASS for martial arts training. There was no formal instruction, it was just a group that had come together to practice with and learn from each other. That was the theory. In practice the Ranger had found himself providing demonstrations and one on one coaching.

For the most part the group that had gathered all had mutations that weren’t flashy or had the ability to always be helpful in a fight. Therefore knowing how to defend oneself when your power either couldn’t help or at least couldn’t help you where you sometimes were was beneficial for most of the group.

The Ranger found himself standing on the center of mat with everyone circled around. This group was working on practical defensive technique, as such instead of a gi it was basketball shorts, shirts, or any similar attire that both allowed movement but didn't give a good handhold. One man stepped forward and after a brief exchange the Ranger had the man flipped through the air and laying on his back. A few words about how to improve and the man went back to the circle before finding someone to work with.

Another man sparred with the Ranger. This guy had been quick, but too aggressive. He had thrown a punch at the Ranger but following a sidestep from the Ranger he was left open. The Ranger went hands on and brought the man down on his chest, his arm wrenched up behind him.

This pattern continued for a while. Eventually people stopped volunteering for a beat down. The Ranger decided he would single someone out. He looked at the people still around him. He saw a kid a bit taller than himself. He pointed to him and asked, ”Y’ next?”

Well, Derek couldn't say that he didn't sign up for this since he did. He had decided that the next time he and Artair or another one of the official Havenites went out on duty that he would be fully prepared. In his mind, CLASS was going to be something simple since it was his first one.

Derek Alexander Menes was wrong.

The newbie was happy, smiling widely dressed in a Haven t-shirt and black gym shorts with a notecard and a pen in his string bag just in case. However, when he walked in, that smile and child-like enthusiasm disappeared and was replaced with fear.

Where did it say on the sign up sheet that he had to spar with Mars incarnate?! The man known as Ranger (and now personally known as Mars),was how standing in the center of the mats taking out guys and gals as if they were just ragdolls.

He was hoping that Ranger would decide to just let the rest of the trainers go off about their business, but apparently Derek wasn't lucky enough for that. He watched as the mountain of man and testosterone pointed him out and asked if he was next. With a gulp, he responded,

"W-was that a question or a statement, sir?" He asked, his southern accent thick like molasses. Glancing around the room, Derek knew the answer and took a shaky step forward. With a sigh of defeat, he looked at the man. "I guess this is where I die." He mumbled, trying to relax in the face of utter defeat.

The kid was a southerner. That was a point in the kids favor, someone else who was out of place in this ocean of Yankees. He asked if it was a question or a statement, ”Y’ could say no, but that won’t help y’ learn.”

Derek moved forward. He was shaking, but kept on. Another point in the kid’s favor. ”Y’re not gunna die.” the Ranger said with a chuckle. He took the moment to give the kid a once over. From how he held himself and that comment he wagered he didn’t have much experience. Best not to just flip the kid.

”How much experience y’ have fightin’, friend.” He asked as he brought up his hands, open palm, taking a fighting stance.

Several of the people he'd laid out so far had been people who needed an object lesson in their lack of skill. This kid seemed seemed like he could make the most use of the Ranger's help. He would confirm this soon enough. He moved forward and hooked his forward leg at the kid. Take his legs out from under him.

That's true. He could have said no, but like Mars said, he wouldn't be learning anything. It was best to roll with the punches and just accept his defeat over and over and over again.

Derek chuckled along with him, but his was a bit more nervous. His southern accent was slightly off putting as well as comforting. "Are ya sure? I'm almost positive from you will send me sailing against the wall." He snorted, shaking his head. At least he'll be put out of his misery right then and there.

"As much sugar as ice tea has up here," Derek snorted, hoping that Ranger would get the joke. He was disappointed to find out that sweet tea wasn't a thing in New England. But he took care of that problem when he first moved into his Co-op. He was about to answer him when Derek felt his legs get swiped out from under him.

As he fell, Derek gasped and prepared himself to hit the ground. But for some reason, it seemed like he was falling slower than he was supposed to. The sensation only lasted for a second before he finished falling at normal speed.

"...Ouch."  He groaned, slowly rolling over and getting up. Derek huffed and looked at Ranger. He slowly got into the fighting position that Ranger used and attempted a roundhouse kick. He actually had good form when he performed it.

"I won't send y' into the wall. It's fifteen yards away." Plus or minus a few feet. And he didn't intend to throw the kid, nor could he throw him that far without his power which likely wouldn't engage for something like that.

From his description the Ranger knew that the kid had absolutely zero experience. Tea up here was sadly without any sugar in most places.

It was as if kid gave no resistance. The Ranger's foot hooked his legs and brought them out from under him. When the kid went down he traveled slower than he should have. He must have hit one of those time things that had been traveling around. It was the Ranger's first time to see one.

"Don't stand where I can catch both legs. If I can only hook one y' have a better chance of stayin' up." He said as Derek got back to his feet.

The Ranger returned to his fighting stance, the kid mirrored it. As the Ranger thought about attacking again, the kid threw a roundhouse kick. A very nice roundhouse kick, Walker would have been proud. The Ranger just barely managed to duck it. Using that momentum the Ranger dropped to the ground and spun his leg around kicking at the kid's ankles.

Derek nodded his head and made sure to listen to Ranger. He knew what he was doing and it was best to follow his instructions to the "T". However, now being back down on the ground didn't help with his enthusiasm.

"Ow." Derek slowly got back up and got into the stance that Ranger had told him about and made sure his feet were far apart. With a grunt, Derek reared back and tried to kick Ranger in the chest. If he succeeded, which he knew he wouldn't, Derek would try to jump up with the leg that was still on the ground and kick him in the shoulder.

If Ranger and Derek were animals -- well, another animal, this fight wouldn't even be happening. Derek, just by seeing him and smelling his pungent order would cause him to quickly drop down and roll over. But Alas, they weren't lions or wolves, but humans and doing that would get himself killed.

The kid went down again. The Ranger would have felt bad for putting him on the ground again so soon had he not just dodged an excellent roundhouse. Had it made contact it would have hurt, a lot. ”Not a bad kick there Chuck. Almost got me.”

They reset, both standing in a ready position. The Ranger closed the distance, putting pressure on the kid. He responded by trying to kick the Ranger in the chest. A quick half step back while he brought up his arms and caught the kid’s foot. It hurt his hands, but it wasn’t a hit to the chest while he was advancing. Holding the foot in one hand he slid along beside it and he reached out with the side of his other hand to brachial stun the kid.

”We can keep goin’ round an’ round if y’ want, or I could try an’ teach y’ somethin’. I think I can help y’ more than anyone else here.” He had some drive and he was unrefined. That was workable.

Derek was sure that he would land a hit on Ranger, but apparently he was wrong. Before he could counter, he found himself paralyzed. His eyes widened as he fell to the ground. God, what did Derek get himself into.

Even with him down on the ground, he was surprising still conscious so he heard everything that Ranger said. Derek would've nodded his head, but couldn't. All he could he could was look up at Ranger with eyes of a wounded animal. God, this man was going to be hard to impress.

Slowly, his body started to work again and he was finally able to speak, "...Sounds good, Mars."

The stun had sent the kid to the ground again. He expected it really hurt this time, a brachial stun is a good way to reboot someone's brain. Rebooting brain isn't so good at catching themselves when falling. He'd give the kid a moment to collect his wits.

When the kid finally recovered from the hit to his neck he answered the Ranger's question... And called him Mars.

The Ranger gave the kid a questioning look as he held out his hand to help him up. "Mars? I have t' say that's a first f'r me." He'd never been called that before, but he had met someone named Mars before. Big red giant he'd come across during a more interesting moment in his past. "I'm Michael, what's y'r name, friend?"

After a few more seconds, Derek was fully functional. He accepted the hand that was given to him by Michael and slowly came to his feet. Once upright again, he retracted his hand to rub it against his neck.

"Derek," he greeted back, "Nice to meet you, Michael." He looked at him with a weak smile. "More or less." Derek winced a bit before lowering both arms. "Mars was the Roman god of war. You should take that nickname as a compliment." He explained with a light chuckle.
"What state are you from? Mississippi? Arkansas?"

”You too, Derek.” The Ranger said. He let the comment about it being a nice meeting, “more or less,” slide past. Having someone introduce themselves after them put you on the ground a few times must be a weird experience. ”I know who Mars is. Jus’ also happen t’ know someone with the name.”

And Derek likely didn’t realize it, but he had just stepped in something he might wish he hadn’t. While the South claimed Texas, Texas didn’t think of themselves so much as part of the South so much as being their own thing. They viewed themselves as the America of America and mixing them up with somewhere else was not okay. The Ranger raised an eyebrow at Derek before saying simply, ”Texas.” He said it as if nothing else need be said, like it would be accompanied by a bald eagle landing on his shoulder while a guitar solo filled the air.

”How ‘bout y’rself?”

"...Oh," by the response he got from The Ranger, he too didn't like his nickname. Well, I guess him and Neptune is in the same boat now. At least Mierda and Aphrodite liked their nicknames. He was more than happy to settle for that.

Texas? That intrigued Derek. He never been to Texas before, but heard snippets of information like how Austin was a liberal city while Dallas was more conservative. Houston had a healthy black population and everything was just...bigger in Texas.

"I'm from North Carolina," he answered, "home of...the Wright Brothers and tobacco and...yeah." He did the "hoorah" motion for emphasis.

Derek informed the Ranger he was from North Carolina, and he seemed really excited about the fact he was. ”I use t’ live there. I was stationed at Bragg f’r a while.” It was a nice enough place. Fayeteville had issues though, but so did Killeen in Texas. Large infantry bases just cause trouble. And that E-4 mafia was a nightmare sometimes.

A quick look around showed everyone had gotten started after pairing off to train. Time for them to get started.

”I’m a fan of strikes an’ grapples. Strikes allow y’ t’ lay the hate on someone, grapples help y’ deal with someone tryin’ t’ do that t’ you.” Punch, punch, knee, and then kick the air. ”Strikes ain’t hard, what’s hard is knowin’ when t’ use which strike. Shin kicks are good when y’r in a fight an’ don’t have an openin’. If y’ can. Y’ wanna hit the jaw, hit it. Most people go down immediately. Y’ gotta get hit there a lot t’ stay up after a jaw hit. Gotta basically lose the nerve.” He gestured as he spoke.

”That’s stuff y’ can work on with a punchin’ bag. I can help y’ with grapplin’ an' submissions. Ever watch UFC or any fights other than boxin’?”

"Really?! I know a couple of people who were stationed at Fort Bragg!" Huh, seemed like Ranger and himself had somethings in common, "And I've been to Fayetteville too." He added with a grin. He wondered what all The Ranger was involved in or were involved in. He obviously had some form of formal training.

Derek nodded his head and made note of everything that The Ranger was teaching him. All of it seemed to be very intense, but Derek could handle it.

"Uh," watch willingly? "No, not exactly, but I've caught glances of it from time to time," Derek usually worked nature documentaries, cooking competitions and debates on ViewTube. "Anyway, I was thinkin' that maybe I should also get a weapon like a spear or somethin' too just in case the other person is super dangerous."

It seemed Derek had decided to latch onto something the two men had in common. ”It’s a big base, I’d be surprised if y’ hadn’t known someone who’d been stationed there.” The Ranger might also be biased. Having been in the military he moved in circles where he at least met someone from any nearby base.

Derek had only caught glances of fights. The Ranger would have to work from square one. Show him the most useful… A spear? ”That’s a good plan, if y’ don’t plan on walkin’ anywhere outside of y’ own house.” The Ranger moved closer to Derek, showing his palms before putting one hand on Derek’s upper arm. Didn’t want the kid thinking he was going to start another round and make the Ranger have to dodge or catch something. ”Some good rules of thumb. If I can get close but keep an arm length like this, I can do what I want.” He threw a punch but stopped an inch short of hitting Derek. He held Derek by the arm so he couldn’t move away.

”Distance is your friend when strikin’, your enemy when y’ want t’ not get hit as hard. Move in close t’ take away someone’s ability t’ get a solid hit.” The Ranger said as he let go of Derek’s arm. ”Only block shins with shins. If you block a shin with an arm y’ll break the arm. An’ there is no such thing as a fair fight. Anythin’ goes when it comes t’ self defense. Crotch, neck, instep, solar plexus, nose, jaw, eyes. Y’ hit whatever y’ can. But f’r now grapples. Hold y’r arm out like y’ jus’ punched at me.”