Meld had raised an interesting question. Who was Hunter willing to help? “I bought this place to be somewhere anyone who wanted help could come and receive it. Race, colour, creed, genetics, none of them matter. What matters is that they want my help and will obey my golden rule. No violence. I rule I hope I never have to enforce.”

“Martial arts is one of the standard courses if you like,” Hunter explained, “Martial arts and meditation are things that I can teach to a group. However I also offer one on one session to those who I believe could benefit from them. Those sessions would be tailored for the individual and their needs.” Hunter smiled, hoping he’d given their questions satisfactory answers and inviting them to ask any more if they had them.

"You would be an interesting sparring partner," Meld stated to Hunter. The more flesh melds she had added to herself, the less she actually entered formal dojos for training or sparring. For one thing, it made less and less difference given her forced unique style and for another, humans were increasingly difficult to sparr with safely. Even if she put something over her claws to reduce their lethality, the combination of having metal limbs and no sense of touch made even getting hit with a blunt metal arm rather dangerous. The last time she remembered having a good sparring match was against Aura and that match had been sadly interrupted before its conclusion.

"As long as I'm within, I can follow the no violence rule," Meld agreed. There weren't many people stupid enough to simply attack her without provocation (though they were out there) and she wasn't the type to attack another without reason. "I think its a good thing to have a proper self defense course. More people, mutants especially, need to learn basic self defence." It wasn't about hurting people, it was about not living in constant fear.

>>“I bought this place to be somewhere anyone who wanted help could come and receive it. Race, colour, creed, genetics, none of them matter. What matters is that they want my help and will obey my golden rule. No violence. I rule I hope I never have to enforce.”

There is such a thing as 'too good to be true'. Actually, there are many things that fit that description. Very few of them ever last. This one? They'll just have to wait and see. Gawain noted the golden rule with a smirk. Martial arts training, no violence. Sure.

>>"I think its a good thing to have a proper self defense course. More people, mutants especially, need to learn basic self defence."

Gawain actually grinned at that. He had been doing Sam's self defence training for quite a while now, and he could fully approve of what Meld said.
Still. Like these two would need a self deense course to defend themselves from anyone. Except, probably, each other.

"Sounds interesting." he nodded, then mused about the rest for a while "What do you mean by one's 'indiidual needs'?"

Because the Trickster had never been one to sit on one place and meditate for more than five minutes.

Hunter nodded his appreciation to Meld’s acceptance of his rule. “People always forget,” Hunter mused aloud, “that the aim or martial arts is not to bring harm, but in fact to bring balance to one’s self. While the skills learned can cause harm the rest of the teaching should ensure that they won’t be.”

“I’ve encountered many people in my time who have lost their way in a sense,” Hunter explained to Gawain, “I have knowledge of techniques that could help as well as a wealth of experience to draw on. Anyone with a problem can come to me and talk about it. I’ll help any way I can, even if it’s just listening and understanding.”

Meld remembered her long ago reasons for joining martial arts to begin with. As a child she had been picked on in school and karate class seemed like the best option to learning to defend herself. It just happened to turn out that she excelled and took a second martial art after that. In fact, she excelled so much that she had won numerous titles, going all the way to the provincial championships and winning gold. Maybe, had life turned out differently, she would have gone even further than that. It hadn't been at all about the killing back then, it had been more of an expression of personal excellence and accomplishment.

"People miss the beauty in the dance of martial arts," Meld agreed. And there was a beauty in it, quite seperate from its potentially lethal nature. There was an art and a grace to it that was lost upon most people. She felt a keen sense of nostalgia for those lost days spent training for hours in her dojo.

>>“I’ve encountered many people in my time who have lost their way in a sense. I have knowledge of techniques that could help as well as a wealth of experience to draw on. Anyone with a problem can come to me and talk about it. I’ll help any way I can, even if it’s just listening and understanding.”

Again. Too good ot be true.

>>"People miss the beauty in the dance of martial arts,"

Gawain winced at the word 'dance', and shot a glance at Meld. Now that sounded familiar. Familiar in the creepy sense of the word. Dancing? Really? Where this did woman come from? Is there some kind of a club for dancing killers?

"Yea I heard that from a chick once" he nodded with an expression between a smirk and a frown "She had the most amazin' balance and moves. She also killed humans like they were bugs."

With much more bloodshed, that is.

“Not everyone remembers that most martial arts are for self defence,” Hunter said in response to Gawain, “For example the Japanese grappling style of Judo means ‘the gentle way’ and was developed by monks to defend themselves from attackers.”

“Modern fighting styles are a different story. The Kaysi Fighting method and Krav Maga intend to incapacitate your opponent by the most efficient means often by inflicting serious injury to them. That is why I teach the older styles here. If you people want to learn to fight they can go elsewhere. If they want to learn to defend themselves, harmonise their body’s and keep in shape then I can teach them.”

"Did she just happen to have a pink aura?" Meld asked with a fond smile. Aura just happened to be the person she considered her best friend and one of the few that she actually trusted. The two of them had danced together many times, creating an artistic expression of blood and pain and death. They didn't dance in opposition of each other but in opposition of their people. She undersood the need for the mutant fight and the need to sometimes use violence to accomplish it. She also happened to be the one person Meld would choose to have at her back in times of danger.

Meld was impressed with Hunter's knowledge of martial arts. "What about custom tailored sessions? Like, say, with mutants with limbs and weapons that most of the old masters hadn't accounted for?" She didn't have too much hope but it was worth a try. She had the sudden, undeniable desire to get back into a proper dojo and begin actually training with others. It was an experience quite unlike training on her own, there was an energy to it that she simply couldn't capture by herself. It might be to much to ask for though so she didn't get her hopes up.

>>"Did she just happen to have a pink aura?"

Bingo.

"I figured you'd know her" Gawain smirked at Meld. Now that he knew where to place her on the mutant chessboard, it was much easier to talk to her. Any friend of Aura's... well, it's not like she looked a saint on her own either. "I danced with her once. She's scary good."
Or, just scary. Mostly scary.

"All right, I'll drop by later on." the mirrorwalker nodded to Hunter, deciding it was his cue to leave before he finds out more than he wanted to "Good luck with the no violence plan. I hope you get many disciples." he added with a wink, walking back to the mirror he appeared from. "Later."

I gotta talk to someone about all this...

Hunter frowned disapprovingly at Meld. Whoever this woman was they were talking about would be of no help to Meld for what lay ahead. The atmosphere had darkened and Gawain decided to take his leave. Hunter nodded farewell to the boy as he stepped back into the mirror.

Turning back to Meld he waited to see if she had any further questions. He decided against asking about the woman with the pink aura. If Meld wanted to talk about it she would. He hoped he could help her put killing behind her.

Meld grinned at Gawain, not bothering to hide the darkness in the expression. "That would be Aura all right. She's one of the most talented fighters I know, especially given her age she really is a marvel." A dedicated marvel who was willing to do whatever it took which was something to be profoundly admired. Her and Abyss were the only two with the same dedication that Meld had, that she had yet met.

"I feel it prudent that I also take my leave," Meld stated. She inclined her head towards Hunter. "I look forward to meeting with you and speaking with you further tomorrow."

Meld’s violent friends could be a problem. Peer pressure to do violence was not what she needed. Still, she was coming back here tomorrow and he’d get a better idea of everything then. “I look forward to seeing you tomorrow,” he said as she went to the desk to make her appointment.

So he’d meet three new mutants and arranged sessions with two of them. But no old faces had shown up as of yet. He wondered how the people he knew were reacting to his flyers. The labs intrigued him the most. After all he did used to run the place.

Vampires, creatures of the night. These pop culture legends had a mythos extending back long into the past. An inability to walk on holy ground, a weakness to sanctified water, an avoidance of garlic... there were so many different takes on these beings it was hard to separate the fact from the fiction. When Lenna had received Noin Mortman's call briefing her on the return of one of these beings of darkness from Slate's past...

She'd blinked, and quickly ducked into an internet search for anything and everything she could find on these shadow-walking demons.

She'd gotten many hits for 'vampire'. From Vlad the Impaler, all the way to Robert Pattinson. This was all very confusing. Did Slate's old rival... glitter? Or was he a man?

Lenna offed her laptop, searching done. She wouldn't find any useful answers surfing the web. She'd just have to confront this fanged fiend face to face... and practice kung fu. Maybe a little tai chi? She'd meditate on that.

What kind of man the old head of the Kabal was, she'd learn... just as soon as she found the right clothes for it. She didn't want to meet Hunter Antonescu in a t-shirt and jeans, if he was everything Slate's secretary said, and more. Lenna raided her closet.

A short time later, she arrived in front of Hunter's place. Dressed in a white flash dance sweatshirt, gray tank top, and slate-colored yoga pants, she was ready to rock. She pulled her hair back, and slid the hair band in place, checking herself in a parked car's rear-view mirror. The car caught her smile, reflecting it back at her. 100 watt.

Perfect.

She walked through the door.

Ellie looked up as the woman stepped into the foyer. “Welcome to Spiritual Balance,” she said in a pleasant tone with a warm smile, “Mr Antonescu is currently free, so if you’d like you can go straight through.”

Hunter was in the training room running through some martial arts drills. His skills had improved from lowering his abilities, which was impressive considering how skilled he was. Unable to rely on his abilities to cut corners he had sharpened up techniques that he could previously afford to be sloppy with. It was likely that his former boast of being possibly the best fighter in the world was now true. Focusing on his practised he hadn’t noticed Lenna’s entrance but she could clearly see him through the glass walls.

The secretary directed Lenna right to the training room. She hadn't even needed to ask for him by name. That was noteworthy, but it wasn't incriminating. Lenna smiled and thanked the woman, glancing briefly at the name tag: Ellie.

Thank you, Ellie.

She made her way to the aforementioned room without another word.

As she approached, she could see him training through the glass walls. He looked younger than she'd imagined. She supposed it only made sense. She'd imagined pale white skin and wrinkles, thinning hair, and a batlike face. He was no Nosferatu.

She slipped through the doorway, and announced her presence. "Mr. Antonescu?" She quested. The woman donned an uncertain smile. "I read your flier, and was intrigued."