Pizza Delivery (Or: Quitting Your Dayjob) (Kris)

Lethe stared up at the abandoned warehouse pensively, glancing down at the business card in her left hand and balancing the pizza box in her right. This was it, and it continued to be IT regardless of how many times she rechecked the address. The place that assassin, Kristoff (Lethe muttered the name out loud, letting it flow off of her tongue and committing it to memory), had told her to meet him at. To further her abilities and make something of herself or ... whatever.

"If ever a mistake was made, this was it." Lethe breathed, voice quiet, words carried in the sea breeze. She stuffed the business card back into her pocket and walked towards the double door, pizza pie secured under her arm (three pieces lacking; she had been standing out here for awhile). She looked at the rusted doors incredulously. What, was she supposed to knock?

She paused before tentatively wrapping her knuckles on the metal, listening to the echo.

The door creaked open ominously, the sounds of gunshots and grunts inside. The inside seemed stripped for parts, and there was a single staircase leading up, there was a shadow that seemed to be jumping around. If Lethe decided to walk up the stairs, she'd see Kristoff up there training, hitting targets and gaining points for style. He didn't seem to notice her.

Lethe observed the area, passive, before treading silently up the stairs. She heard the boy before she saw him, showing off to ... himself? Lethe tilted her head to the side as she always did when she was at a loss. Jump City was weird. She lowered the pizza box to the ground before leaning against a metal beam, not entirely impressed but also not wanting to be rude and interrupt his training montage. She crossed her arms, tapping one finger to her own nonexistent beat, Eye of the Tiger playing in her head.

Kris looked over at Lethe and walked over, grabbing a slice of pizza, "You decided to come. Excellent." He walked over to a makeshift target range and put a pistol on the table, "Show me what you can do." He grinned as he ate the pizza, this would be a fun day.

Lethe's face was neutral, not that he'd see behind her gas mask, as she picked up the pistol and fiddled with it. She didn't like guns. They lacked flair. Regardless, she rolled her shoulders before holding the pistol out in front of her. The first two bullets rang out as head shots, the third hitting the left arm, but that was because she switched to holding the gun sideways and flashing the peace sign.
She cringed slightly at the loud noises. Guns were overrated and obnoxious, yet effective.

Kris nodded, "Not bad. Not bad." He walked around her, looking at her stance, she really didn't seem to care for guns, but he'll figure out how she was comfortable fighting. He looked around, he then set up multiple targets around the training area, "On my mark, I'm going to time you, take out the targets." He pulled out a timer, "3. 2. 1. Mark."

Lethe blinked, and the minute he said 'mark' she was off in a flash of blue light. The blue streak twirled around the first dummy, materializing behind it and snapping its neck. Immediately, she cartwheeled to the next one, a fist going through its chest. She continued in this manner, almost dancing across the ground, at times losing some of her form and turning into a blazing blue line. The final one she landed on top of, like a cat pouncing on a ball of yarn, before digging her fingers into its proverbial eyes. And gouging them.

She looked at her handiwork, nodded, and gave her ... trainer(?) ... a mock salute.

Kris looked at the time, shrugging, "Not bad, effective. Though can you mix range with close range attacks?" Kris set up more dummies, these ones equipped with tasers. She would have to dodge attacks, hit some from range, others close up. "I want at MOST 45 seconds. This is a speed run." He then would back up, out of the way. "3. 2. 1. Mark."

Again, Lethe pushed off of the ground, a blue streak going across the factory. At one point, she used one training dummy as a body shield against another. Another time, she bent back the tazer arm and plunged it into its owner's chest. As she was instructed, when flipping off of dummies, she sent orbs out at the ones farther down the line to save time. They exploded on impact, in a satisfying fashion. It was less flashy, more straightforward. Again, Lethe stopped and stood straight before glancing at him, flexing her fingers.
"... Well?" She asked cautiously, watching him closely.

Kris checked the time, pleasantly surprised, "Aren't you a speed demon when you want to be?" Kris then sat at one of his tables, littered with guns and bullets, "Come, sit, tell me about yourself." If he was going to continue training her, he'd have to know if she would turn on him and know what makes her tick.

Lethe lowered herself into a chair gracefully, tilting her head.

"What do you want to know?" She spoke softly. She had many stories, that was sure, but none that would be of interest (and certainly none to bring up over a cocktail party).

Kris would push the pizza at Lethe, urging her to take a slice, "Well, where are you from? Are you human?" Kris looked her over, trying not to be intimidating. He smiled, "How did you get into this business?"

Lethe looked up to the ceiling, wistfully. "I'm not really from anywhere. Oregon, technically." She twiddled her thumbs, Cheshire grin spreading across her face (thankfully hidden by her mask). "I don't know if I'm human, really. Meta-human, maybe." She shrugged her shoulders. "I glow." She took a minute to consider his last question.  "I killed my dad." It was said flippantly, like she was detailing what she had gotten at the grocery store. "So staying home was a no go. Then I got on a train and ..." She trailed off. She had a lot of stories, most of them fun, some of them tragic, but none that she wanted to remember. Lethe liked to live day to day.

Kris nodded, she was definitely interesting. She killed her dad? Kris bit his lip, how many times Kris thought about murdering his father if he ever met him. That was before he found out his father was a multiple thousand year old alien mad scientist who controlled an assassin's guild. He shook his head, "I have a similar story, maybe one day I'll bore you with it." He smiled at her, she was easy to talk to, not judgmental. He took a slice of pepperoni and ate it.

She relaxed, resting her head on one palm. "Many do." she said simply. "There's about as many dead parents out there as there are dejected teenage super-humans." She twirled her other hand, blue energy forming at her fingertips. It changed into a deer, then a crow, before the crow fluttered off and evaporated. Lethe wasn't sure what to do with this pregnant silence they had fallen into, but also was a born follower, and hoped that Kris would lead.