Now, I know that we've briefly talked about Vista before in this thread, and, well, an idea for some Vista-driven content just so happened to put itself into my head. So I threw this together inside of three hours and decided that there was no harm in posting it.
Please enjoy!
(The following lucid dream training sequence is non-canon.)
Missy Biron was no stranger to lucid dreaming.
It came with her territory as the youngest of Brockton Bay's Wards, the junior hero squad. She'd been fighting the good fight longer than anyone else and she was proud of it, too, the Protectorate didn't have many Shaker Nines they could boast about. And when she wasn't fighting, she was training, making sure that she was both ready and able to assist whenever and wherever the opportunity struck.
Thanks to her age and some profoundly meddlesome adults, she didn't get many chances at that.
Even her dreams were more often than not geared towards making herself a better fighter, a better hero. She'd never told anyone because she was certain some Youth Guard busybody would cry 'PTSD!' over the thought that Vista couldn't get enough of combat in her Wards career and was routinely fighting the likes of Krieg or Oni Lee in her dreams, but then again - she knew they were just dreams, and because she knew that, she could adjust things a little. Pick apart where she went wrong if she lost the fight, or what she could've done better if she won. She didn't need anyone trying to medicate or psychoanalyze away what was a very valuable tutor for parahuman combat.
Still, though, usually her lucid dreams were straightforward, to the point, and immediately related to a recent engagement that some other member of the Protectorate had gotten into. She couldn't imagine ever having a dream with a pre-sequence, not one this drawn out at any rate. She'd found herself walking through sliding glass doors to look at a very swanky electronic poster board display, proudly displaying the name of a gym that she'd never heard of, and likely didn't exist in reality.
"Welcome to Nakajima Gym!" Called a girl behind the counter with indigo-colored hair, as though she needed any additional 'you're dreaming this up, Missy Biron' cues.
"Hi!" She called back with the Imaging-patented Friendly Neighborhood Ward voice, deciding to roll with it. "Nice gym you've got here. It caught my eye from the sidewalk, and..."
"You thought you'd come take a look? Hey, that means that that big old billboard we installed out front wasn't a waste of limited start-up capital, Nove!" Indigo hair was a master at projecting her voice, it seemed.
'Nove' shouted back from some side room that she didn't have a clear angle on from here, but even in a lucid dream, she wasn't about to start using her powers for something so frivolous as to get eyes on someone who was probably the gym's president or something. "Oi, oi! I stand by what I said!"
The receptionist shook her head and let out a sigh tinged with fondness. "Nevermind our beloved president. I'm Yumina Enclave. I handle most of the management work around here. Just think of me as a number one supporter, okay? And you're just in time. We're actually doing an 'open house' style event today. A free introductory workshop for Strike Arts. Oh, there's no commitment other than the fact that it's going to take a couple of hours! We're starting it up soon, but since you're here already, I can just add you right in."
Damn, Vista thought, she's a pretty good salesgirl. And, well, it's not like she could just wake up and go right back to sleep hoping for a more targeted and on-mission lucid dream. There really wasn't any harm.
"Sure! Sounds interesting. Do I have to sign anything, or...?"
"Oh no, don't worry about that, just follow me, Miss..."
A quick glance down at herself to make sure that she wasn't wearing her Vista costume in the dream for some reason. Finding street clothes, she happily responded, "Biron. Missy Biron."
"Missy Biron," confirmed and scribbled down on what she could only assume was the sign-up sheet for the free workshop. That done, Yumina swung herself over the reception desk with a grace that belied more than a 'number one supporter' level of interest in martial arts, flashing a beatific smile. "Oh, I'm not a fighter. But you can hardly work at a gym without picking a thing or two up, you know?"
Her smile turned devious. "You should see our actual athletes. Har-nyan is making a run at U15 World Champion this year."
Okay. So maybe this was more 'wish fulfillment' than 'training dream,' but if she wasn't underselling herself dramatically, Missy thought she'd quite like to see the difference between the gym's receptionist and one of their athletes.
"Ah, hello everybody, and welcome to our little Strike Arts demo! My name is Vivio Takamachi, and with me I have..."
"Einhart Stratos. We'll be taking care of you all today."
Missy wondered to herself if there was anyone who didn't know that, considering the huge banners with the faces of these two athletes hanging overhead that everyone had to walk under to get to this part of this gym.
"Well, you didn't come here to listen to us introduce ourselves, of course." Vivio said with a smile. "So without further ado, how about a little peek into the future?"
"Vivio and I have been training in Strike Arts for quite some time now, and we'd like to show you all a little exhibition match."
Both girls - neither of whom could be that far off of her own age, took their places at either end of the ring. There was a gong noise pumped in seconds later, and...
...Whoa.
The training gym in her dreams was an open cape training gym. Something that she'd never see in reality. Even the Protectorate's gyms, where everyone should've known everyone else's identity already anyway, had a strict masks-on policy.
It was too bad that the real world didn't work this way, with the 'unwritten rules' and the fear of consequences for being an outed cape that touched everyone except for New Wave. Missy imagined, not for the first time, a world in which she could be as free with her own powers as the Strikers going through the motions of what was very clearly a sham match designed more to wow the audience than determine an actual victor.
Glowing fists - iridescent and silver-green - met open palms and textbook guards. Vista could tell that each girl was moving at half-speed or possibly slower. Brute/Mover Two each, she decided, plus whatever the glow effect around their hands was supposed to do. Back and forth they moved in a complicated and well-choreographed dance. It was all she could do to tear her eyes away long enough to survey the rest of the workshop's attendees. All were just as enthralled as she was, including - was that a Case 53?
She quickly tore her eyes away from the flying doll. It was rude to stare at diminutive Case 53s.
After exactly three minutes, Vista hadn't had any way of timing it but with everything else having been so choreographed it only made sense for the timing to be exact, the exhibition came to its predetermined conclusion. Both girls launched a punch at the same time, and with TV scripting precision, both fists bumped in midair, letting off a dazzling explosion of power.
The entire audience started clapping as though prompted by the sound of the gong ringing again.
"Of course," Einhart cautioned, "this is the results of years of training and practice."
"Mmhmm! It'll take hard work and a commitment to get to this level, but I believe that if we all try hard together, every single person in this room is capable of reaching it with practice!"
It was her dream, of course. That was why it felt like the blonde fighter was really only speaking to her - why it felt like their eyes were locked onto each other, specifically - because there wasn't any reason for a construction of her own lucid dreaming to ever focus on anyone else.
"So, then. Let's proceed to the first step on the path of Strike Arts that I hope we can all walk together. Today, we'll be going over the basic motions."
"Remember, you want to punch with both legs. Push off and follow through with everything you've got!"
...
"Elbows down, hands up."
...
"Stillness is death. Always stay in motion and be ready to react."
...
"Keep those knees bent!"
...
"Looking good, Missy!"
...
"When you create an opening, it's important to follow through if you can. Press the advantage!"
...
"Of course you'll get hit eventually. The trick is to roll with the hit, minimize the damage."
...
"We've only got a little bit of time left, but since you've made it this far, why don't I show you one of my special techniques?"
...
"One, two..."
...
"Axel Smash!"
"You did it! Good job!"
Knowing that it was all just a dream didn't make the workout any less exhausting, of course.
But it also didn't diminish the feeling of accomplishment that Missy felt, as she fought to get her breathing back under control.
"And that's all the time we have for today's workshop, I'm afraid! I hope to see you all back here for our full Strike Arts introductory course, starting next week!"
"Even if you're not interested in returning, I hope that you all continue to practice the basics regularly. There are many benefits to this kind of exercise even for non-athletes."
Yumina tapped her on the left shoulder, pulling her away from the closing commentary. "Had fun?" She asked with a smile.
"Oh, definitely! I'm afraid I can't commit to coming back, though, I have... school, and other responsibilities."
"That's too bad. Well, like they say, nothing ventured and nothing gained, right? Hmm... tell you what. If you promise to make your best effort to attend as many lessons as possible, I'll 'accidentally' list you on the course registry anyway. Don't worry about payment, it's on the house∼"
"Really?!"
"Oh, of course. After all, it'd be wrong to take payment from someone who might never see a single lesson? We're not so hard up for cash that we'd have to resort to such things. And if it makes you feel better, you can just call it a favor."
Had this been an actual gym in the real world and not a careful construction of her imaginative pre-teen mind, Missy's hackles might have risen at the thought of potentially owing a favor to some open cape gym. But since this was a fantasy training sequence that lived entirely in her dreams, it was almost certainly just her mind's way of nicely papering over irrelevant concerns like 'money' in the pursuit of allowing her to have more dreams of martial arts training in the future.
It helped immensely that Missy knew that the PRT would never, ever have authorized her undertaking any kind of martial arts course in reality. Shaker Nines shouldn't be getting into in-fight range at any age, after all, let alone twelve-year-old Shakers. "Thank you. I'll gladly accept."
Yumina's smile widened. "I thought you would. Now, as much as I'd love to invite you to stick around, I can't imagine you don't have somewhere else to be...?"
Unfortunately.
"I'll see myself out, then. Thanks for having me!"
"Any time, Missy."
Missy Biron blinked the last vestiges of sleep out of her eyes as she pulled herself upright out of bed.
As dreams went, that was a far cry from the usual fare, but...
She practiced throwing a few punches in the comfort of her locked bedroom, making sure to push any sources of potentially embarrassing collisions well out of the way.
One, two. Move in, uppercut, follow-up uppercut.
The motions felt good. Felt natural. Even if her real muscles didn't have those memories quite yet.
Not bad.
Her smile was probably absolutely vicious, but nobody was around to see it. If she ever found herself in close quarters again, whichever nasty gang cape had cornered her would be in for a nasty surprise.
please ignore the half asleep idiot
