Conflict of Authorities (Javier)

[Sydney Jessica Blake]

To say that Sydney was displeased to have been dropped off in town with strict orders to get a signed receipt from the man running the martial arts program was a misstatement as broad as saying that most terrorists were miffed with the way America handled itself and handled other nations. She took a lap of the block in an effort to alleviate the desire to punch in the window over the front door, and still when she walked inside she was angry.

Granted, Sydney was always angry. Angry was the taste of the air and water, the feeling of hunger and thirst, the shape of her uneven gait and the imprint of her fingertips. But oh well.

Sydney snatched open the door with a precise, irritable movement, and stepped inside, turning to stare out the window instead of taking much note of the interior. She noticed the general layout, the thickness of the padding in the walls and floor, the equipment, the location of the bathroom and the back exit, and then no longer felt the need to observe any more. It was much more informative to look out the window and see what people were buying, selling, or carrying instead. The way a teenage girl flipped her expensive cell phone around as though it were a playing card, juxtaposing the worn texture of her jeans and denim jacket. Either the phone was stolen or she found the grunge look more appealing than Aeropostale. Sydney didn’t particularly care, but it was interesting to theorize.

Although she didn’t hear anything, some instinct suggested that she turn, so she did so, putting her back to the door again. She let the rubber foot of her cane rest behind her at the base of the door so it would slow it down if it opened—not out of paranoia, but out of habit. Her parents had a habit of walking in on her without announcement and she hated to keep important doorways out of sight. Habits like this made her look more concerned about her physical welfare than she genuinely was, but she didn’t mind particularly much. Other people could think what they liked. Usually their thoughts weren’t deep enough to matter.

[Deleted]

In poison places

We are anti-venom
We're the beginning of the end.

Javier was in the middle of a group session of kids. and was watching them practice the new defensive stances that he had been teaching for the last week. Most of the kids were getting them pretty easily. There were some slow learners, but that was a given. If they didn't get it soon, he wouldn't hold it against them. He would simply put in some one on one time with them until they did. He glanced at the clock and clapped twice to get their attention.

"Good job guys," he said. "You're getting there smooth enough. Go get something sweet out of the candy bowl at the front desk while you wait for your rides. Jaime, tell your dad I'll be there tomorrow at six."

The little red-headed boy looked up and nodded before rushing out after his friends. Javier quickly straightened up the mats and took out one the practice dummies for the private lesson he agreed to take. Once that was ready, he turned around and headed over to the lobby. His eyes flicked from the girl playing with her phone, his part-time assistant that usually just sat on her ass unless he barked an order at her, then over to the other girl. He walked over to that one.

"Sydney Blake, correct?" he asked, stopping right in front of her. "Javier Harper."

He stuck his hand out for her to shake. He was nothing if not polite, and she didn't have to be the same way. He just wasn't about to be rude.

Sydney Jessica Blake | 257
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[Sydney Jessica Blake]

Sydney was still standing just inside the doorway when a fit, taller man came in and took stock of the three of them, finally deciding through some method that Sydney must be the one here for his instruction. She did her best to ease the deep-set scowl from her face, knowing logically that it was hardly his fault that Gawain was sending her here to pick on him and likely—and fairly—be picked on in return. He didn’t deserve her frustration just yet, and she was aware of that, so she did what she could to stay as courteous as possible until he became the source of her irritation instead of Gawain. He had a pleasant, observant sort of face, the instructor. These days it was easier for Sydney to like ugly people, but knowing full well that that was only because she was vain enough to be jealous of others’ beauty, she completely ignored that moment of snark, shoving it down and out of the way.

”Yes,” she replied, shaking his hand with the firm grip she’d learned from childhood. Her parents had never raised a pansy, at least that was one mark in their defense. The graceful courtesy she had learned all of her life prompted her to tell him it was a pleasure to meet him, but since the events of the last year had given her an extreme aversion to saying things that weren’t true even for the sake of propriety, she didn’t. ”My apologies for bringing so little ability to work with.” Perhaps, before she’d been shot, she might have done well in this class. One prosthetic leg was hardly a deterrent in comparison with the limited use she now had of her arms. The doctors who had been added to her roster told her she had reason to hope that she would within a year or two recover close to her full range of motion and strength, or one or the other, but they were straightforward in telling her what she already knew—that they would never again be as fluid or as strong as they had once been. Just another thing she couldn’t do or couldn’t be; such realizations shouldn’t bother her at this point, but stacking up her inabilities next to her rather arrogant pride burned like swallowing battery acid.

[Deleted]

In poison places

We are anti-venom
We're the beginning of the end.

”My apologies for bringing so little ability to work with.”

Javi looked her over with a critical gaze. She came off - to him - as a girl who didn't put much stock in faith. He didn't point out his observation and simply focused on her statement. There was only one way to see exactly what he had to work with. That was to see how far he could push her physically and mentally. Gawain had already told him enough about her to know the physical limitations. That wasn't much of a deterrent in the long run.

"Raise your arms as far as you can," he said. "I need to see the extent of your mobility."

Honestly, this was only to see how much work he had to put into her. He knew full well that if you put effort into the things you wanted to accomplish, you could. It was all about how much you wanted it. It was all about perseverence. He knew that. He was the example of mind over matter.

Sydney Jessica Blake | 174

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[Sydney Jessica Blake]

Sydney closed her eyes so she could better resist the urge to roll her eyes. You could have just asked. It vexed her that he'd chosen to extract the information he wanted through a demand rather than a request, but to be fair she may have done the same thing, depending on the mood she was in. At least he had bypassed the usual pleasantries that were known to bog down intelligent minds in this part of a conversation. Nothing dried out her mind more efficiently than small talk.

Resisting most all forms of 'attitude' that she was tempted to display, Sydney blandly raised her left arm almost vertically and was able to briefly lift her right to just past half that far. Holding her right arm that high didn't tend to work; the muscle trembled and loosened. Both shoulders ached as if she hadn't moved them in weeks. In reality she had used them to the furthest extent at which they could be used without causing herself further damage. Even so she knew she frequently stretched the recommended limit, but imagined she knew her limits better than the doctors could. They didn't know how strong she'd been before the damage and they couldn't reliably fathom how strong or weak she would be after. Being unable to do her usual exercises with both shoulders out of commission had weakened more than just her arms, but she had done her best to minimize the collateral damage. She had done her best with what she had, so far. Guessing that he would find useful more knowledge than just the lift of her arms, stiffly she rotated them as best she could, unable to reach them back almost at all.

And chances were that what she already committed herself to still wouldn't be enough for this exemplar model of physical excellence. Sydney didn't have to know as much as she did about musculature and home structure to be able to tell at a glance that even when she'd been a dancer, she had never been quite as well-toned as the instructor before her, even adjusting for gender tendencies. Dancers, by rule, constantly hovered on the sharp edge of anorexia. In the last year Sydney's health had improved in precisely one area after the car accident, and that had been in the minimally expanded range of what she could eat and how much.

But all of that was irrelevant. He didn't need her medical history to show her things she would now never be able to do effectively. He just needed, hopefully, to be as little of an ass about it as possible.

Hearing the drop of a hand on the doorknob outside, Sydney dropped her arms, pulled her cane out from behind herself where it was wedged against the bottom of the door, and stepped aside for the man who had forgotten one of his son's mittens. "How long do you expect this will take?" she asked once he'd left again, estimating that this spectacularly fit person could exercise for hours and not lose a drop of sweat. She couldn't do the same anymore, though she missed it. There was something extremely satisfying in knowing that you have worked yourself to every limit you had, the pleasant burn of a complete exhaustion. The heavy fatigue of having no reliable way to burn off energy without causing herself pain was one of the many reasons she always found irritation so close at hand.

[Deleted]

In poison places

We are anti-venom
We're the beginning of the end.

Javier watched her rotate her arms and demonstrate how much range she had or lacked. He kept his features completely stoic and clinical as he watched her demostrate her mobility. In all honesty he had seen worse. He knew people doctors had claimed would never walk again run a mile and finish. It was all about perseverence and determination.

"How long do you expect this will take?"

He raised an eyebrow at the question. Honestly the only person who could answer that was her. Then again, Jav could remember a time he had asked his sensei at the time the exact same thing. The difference with him was that he was an impatient and petulant brat who wanted to win tournaments left and right like he was so used to doing. It had been extremely frustrating for him. That being said, it did take him awhile to get back to where he was and where he wanted to be.

"That depends on what your personal goal is, whether you want to surpass that goal, and how determined you are to get where you want to be," he finally said. "It could take months, to years. In short, it depends on you. I can teach and train and encourage. I can't control and push your body. Only you have that ability, and so you set the clock. "

Sydney Jessica Blake | 226

Sorry this was so late.

[Sydney Jessica Blake]

At least he resisted whatever urge he may have had to frown at the warped package she presented. She would never have tolerated such dismal material to work with, then again she rarely took on projects that were given to her either. She found her own way. It would have pleased her to think that she always had, but that wasn’t true. Really it was only in the last year that she’d bothered to think past herself, expanding into the ‘bigger picture’ and turning to see herself for what she had been and what she’d become. It had been over a year now since she’d smiled and meant it, but when she saw the truth she knew it, and that was by far more important.

However this constant burn of anger, chafe of negativity, even as it fueled her on her most frustrated days, had begun to wear her down. She had never before realized how utterly exhausting it was to always presume the worst of people, especially once she had begun to correct herself and allow for other possible motives swimming behind their bumbling actions. The vast majority of Sydney’s world was trapped inside her head and keeping it from touching others and others from it was the same constant strain that the ozone must take from the battle between atmospheres, with similar results when holes charred through, except that harm could be done on both sides instead of just one.

As for her personal goal? He must be obtuse if he thought she was here under her own intentions. What of her surliness could have prompted such an opinion? Even so, she allowed him to finish. It was the polite thing to do. ”Unfortunately the clock doesn’t belong to me, it belongs to Gawain.” Some may have seen her use of his first name as the product of familiarity; she let them. In truth she used his first name because she considered him her equal, and herself his. In different ways of course, but he had commanded her respect from the start and she wasn’t about to ruin that by treating him like an idol. She twirled her cane once at her side—a paltry trick left over from the days when glitter was everything—and stepped around him to hang it on the coat rack. Her jacket stayed on; she wasn’t in any mood to start brandishing scars. ”I’m afraid I don’t have any goals in your area of expertise, but to leave with nothing is worse than accepting something I don’t particularly want.” Even if the coming Something happened to be a spectacle of her own deformities she had too much pride to do as Gawain probably expected her to and forge Javier’s signature on the business card he had to sign so Gawain would make hot food for dinner, a skill not included in Sydney’s command.

{Despite my disbelief I did survive, so no harm done. }

[Deleted]

In poison places

We are anti-venom
We're the beginning of the end.

"Unfortunately the clock doesn't belong to me, it belongs to Gawain. I'm afraid I don't have any goals in your of expertise, but to leave with nothing is worse than accepting something I don't want."

Javier looked at her with mild interest. Gawain had been right. This girl was going to be a challenge, especially if she didn't really care about these lessons. He rubbed his eyes as he took in her indifference. This was going to be a rather long few days. No matter. He adored a good challenge.

"Since you yourself don't have a long term goal you want to accomplish," he finally said, "how about we start small and go from there? We can work on your mobility and readdress in month or so. How does that sound?"

Javi was flexible. He liked to work with his students, not for them. He liked to make sure they knew they had a say in everything that went into their personal schedule. He wasn't going to change that with Sydney.

Sydney Jessica Blake | 171

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[Sydney Jessica Blake]

Start small. Sydney had begun and finished so many things that she had progressed past the point where returning to the bottom of a new ladder no longer vexed her as it once had—she understood it as a vital part of the process. The more rungs the ladder had at the bottom the stronger it would be at the top; there was no skipping steps when it came to victory.

But Sydney had already been at the top of this ladder, or at least the one next to it. She had been strong, flexible, graceful, elegant. Everything a teenager or a young woman could aspire to be. Beautiful. Even now the fact that she wasn’t pretty anymore irked her like tangles in the hair she no longer kept. Beginning again with exercises she would likely be familiar with, and possibly incapable of doing, would be inescapably tedious, and as close to emasculating as Sydney was ever likely to feel as a female.

But it would only be worse than that if she expressed that opinion, so she kept it, as she kept most of her opinions, safely tucked away and to herself. At least the small talk was finished. She couldn’t abide small talk for long. His suggestion for how they began was logical. ”How does that sound?” Sydney eyed the fold-up mat floor, and various padded objects with a deep resignation. She inhaled and barely resisted sighing. ”Very well,” she answered equably. She hadn’t missed his one expression of concern, so to speak, and chances were he was about as thrilled with her as she was with him, so she had mustered all of her forces into treating him—if not as kindly—as blandly as possible. He was not her enemy, and she had enough of those already to not even want to add him to the roster. He was probably even a good man, and deserved at the very least her attention if not her false pretenses of good cheer. She gripped the back of her neck where it ached. ”I’ll be ready to start whenever you are. I’m sure you have more enjoyable things to do after this.”