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He chuckled a bit at Michaels proclamations.

"Great. Give him more ways to try and beat me why don't ya. I think I'll pass on this run though. I gotta make sure my new artist is up to snuff."

He jabbed a thumb towards Billy as he spoke then turned to her.

"Yep. I do train people. And since 'Iron' Mike here is gonna be in character of my son now, that frees me up a bit."

He then chuckled a bit as he started back out of the tavern.

"Come on Billy. The sooner I know if your up to snuff, the sooner I know if you'll be worth keeping."

He then chuckled a bit as he headed downstairs.

He listened quietly to Michaels words and took note of each thing Michael proclaimed he'd be able to do.

"Hmm...interesting list. I know I can and know I will."

Listened to the exchange between the two men and the teen, a shadow of a smile drifting across her pierced lips. She found it amusing to say the least.

"Interesting. . ." she said in response to his training comment, she glanced to Michael and grinned, "Nice Kilt. . .I've got one that matches it, mind you mines a bit shorter." she then laughed she gave Michael and Minato a lopsided grin as she shouldered her pack and then followed Kyle.

"Well . . .take a look at my art book first." she said, "I think I'm up to snuff, but mind you I'm new with the gun. . ."

"The more ways a man is deadly, the less ways he needs to be. Iron Mike makes me sound like a wrestler or something. Call me Sawney. Or Mike. If I can turn fat kids into soldiers at Fort Benning, I think I can take this kid and turn him into a soldier. IF he were to enlist, he'd have no problem at Basic at all." Michael winked at the woman in the room, lifted his kilt just a tiny bit, to show some leg, then started yelling. "Come on, you bloody sack of trash! I'm not getting paid to watch you sit around and look at girls! Go go go! Run! Move with a purpose, son! I will smoke you if you do not get going! There's work to be done!" Michael started running in place, waiting for the boy to start himself.

He watched Michael quietly and smirked.

"Bloody sack of trash? I've heard worse insults from a dung beetle. And I've never even met a dung beetle your transvestic homophobe troll felcher."

He then hopped off the bar stool and took off surprisingly suddenly having zipped past his father and the woman and was already at the bottom of the stairs.

"Come on old man? What's the matter? Big dog can't keep up with the young bucks no more? And after all that trash talking."

He turned around out of instinct and grabbed Billy by the shoulders and pulled her to the side and out of Minato's way.

"Lockharts are competitive. Challenge us and except a response."

He then smirked a bit.

"And I'll look at your book when your done with your little test. If you can draw you can give someone ink. Just think of the gun like a pencil
Or a pen that viberates. And don't go too deep."

He then chuckled a bit.

"Besides if you screw up, I can fix it."

Was laughing lightly at Mike's comment as Kyle pulled her out of Minato's road. "I'll keep that in mind." she watched the teen dart past them.

She nodded, "Yes I know that it's a like a pencil," she smirked a little, "that vibrates. Thanks for the vote of confidence by the way." she said in response to his comment about her screwing it up. Now she'd try extra harder, she was the type when told she couldn't do something or someone doubted her, she'd do her damnest to prove them wrong.

"So what were you thinking about having inked, and where?" she asked

Michael went around the two, then outstripped the boy. He made it outside still ahead of him, then began pacing himself as he went down the driveway towards the road. Let the boy kill himself in the first ten minutes. Michael would still be pounding out the miles when the boy was struggling to walk. He grinned, then concentrated on his rhythm.

He smirked a bit as Michael zipped past him and turned and disappeared through the doorway leading to the hall of champions then down the stairs beyond it.

"You may be my teacher old man but I have a schedule. Today's my weight training day. Tomorrow is my day for running."

He then took off his swords and shirt and folded it neatly before opening a closet and digging around in it.

"Wristbands...5 pounds...shirt...I'm used to the 15 pounds so I'll go with 20 today...boots...hmm...20 for them too."

He then pulled out said items and began putting them on.

He smirked a bit as Michael ran past.

"You figured he would know better...kids a teen. Teens are notoriously rebellious towards authority figures at first. Somehow I get the feeling Minato just suckered him."

He then chuckled a bit.

Watched Mike bolt past her too, and sighed laughing, "This is an interesting place, I like it."

"So boss, what am I doing to you?" she grinned a little realizing the comment sounded a little flirtatious, but that was just her nature, "And where?"

"Does de poor widdle baby want toys to run wit'? To fecking bad! Get a move on! You want real weight, I'll get you a rucksack and fill it with rocks! Let's see you run with a hundred fifty pounds on! I don't give a damn what day today is. Today, you run! You're not on your daddy's work out schedule now. You're on mine! Drop the weights and run!" Michael put action to words and knocked the weights out of the boy's hands, propelling him forward and out into the outdoors. "Come on, boy! You gonna let an old man in a kilt out run you?"

He wheeled about as Michael tried to push him outside.

"Sorry. Your not interrupting my dads schedule. If you were I wouldn't care. But you interrupted mine! And I am strict with my schedule so it being interrupted I will not have. You wanna make tweaks to it put the tweaks in the day it belongs. Not outright change it up!"

As he finished speaking he wheeled about again and Whiped his leg about aiming the heel of his foot at the side of Michaels Knee.

He smirked a bit at the way she had worded it and being the natural smart aleck he was, he replied in kind.

"That all depends. What do you want to do to me? And no need to call me boss. I'm real informal."

He then got to the bottom of the stairs in time to see the conflict brewing and narrowed his gaze as he dashed forward suddenly and dropped to one knee as he slid the rest of the distance meeting Minato's heel with his own shin where he would then wrap his arms around his sons leg as he quickly stood and flipped him through the air and spun about as he raised a leg and brought an axe kick down into his sons gut planting him into the ground.

"Sorry kid. Dunno what he did to provoke ya already but he's your teacher now so I advise listening to him less I do this to you all the time."

Followed kyle to the bottom of the stairs, listening mike carouse minato, she arched a brow, "You look younger than 30, that's far from old." she murmured shaking head sending dreads flying.

Laughed at the Kyle being a smart ass, "Well well. . .that leaves a lot of things open." she gave him a lopsided grin, "But I did mean tattoos." she laughed once more, "Did you have anything in mind? And if not I'd like to see you other tats, so I can get a feel of whatcha like before deciding what to do." she said as she watched kyle pull a fast one on his son.

"Ahh the poor boy." she laughed folding her arms across her chest shaking her head and laughing lightly.

Michael moved aside, watching his employer's shin connect with his son's foot. As he moved, though, he was pulling a pistol from the folds of his kilt and from behind him. He leveled it in front of the boy's head. "Do not attempt to harm me unless we're sparring. Your schedule or not. You do what I say, when I say. I don't give a shit if God himself gave you your schedule. I'm Michael Alasdair MacKenzie, Staff Sergeant, United States Army, honorably discharged. I have done things that would make the director of the CIA piss himself. So do not tell me what I can, or cannot do. You want to run with weights? Fine. But you'll do it my way, or not at all. If I can make the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency piss himself, what do you think I can do to you? Or your father? I've won three World Championships in Fencing. That's with rules, and a blade I haven't lived with since I was twelve. So you want to get in a pissing contest, boy, that's fine. But you will lose." Michael re holstered his pistol, a Springfield Armory .45 ACP, then resumed a normal stance. Blue eyes glinted with mirth, but below the mirth was cold fire, that threatened to consume the mirth.

He struggled to catch his breath from his fathers kick then widened his eyes for a moment before narrowing them at the sight of the gun. The entire time Michael talked, he just stared at the weapon pointed at him as he began shaking a bit. But his shaking wasn't out of fear. It seemed to be more so out of anger. He then slowly got to his feet pushing himself up on tightly clenched fists.

He switched his gaze from his son to Michael as Minato stared and seen the gun. He simply closed his eyes and listened to Michael speak at least containing himself till he was finished. It was then that Kyle spoke, still holding his eyes closed.

"Me and you...we're both men here and we're gonna talk like grown men. Not babble like drunk idiots. First thing. We talked about the gun deal earlier. And my opinion was simple. It's a cowards weapon unless used in defense against another gun. But you just pulled one without another being pointed at you. By my standard. That makes you a coward. Secondly. You pulled it on a boy. That makes you an even bigger cowards. Thirdly. That kid was my son. Me. Your boss. I don't care if you can make an old fart desk jockey piss himself. That's a man who doesn't see much action. Not field goers like me and you. Not combatants like me and you. Saying you made him piss himself speaks nothing of your own skills. And pulling a gun on a kid...that makes me think even less of you. That's downright pitiful, unethical, wrong and dishonorable. I don't care what your rank in the army was. Here it's just teacher. And to try and say think what you could do to me? That can be taken as a threat against a superior. Shut your hole. Learn your chain of command and learn it fast! You wanna be rough with the kid, go ahead you just seen what I did to him but if you ever pull a gun on him again, you will see the tip of my sword against your neck."

He then opened his eyes revealing them to be cold. Empty. Emotionless. The eyes of a man who has clearly seen more than his humble demeanor would project.

"Oh and since we're on the subject of me being your boss. Your fun run is post poned till tomorrow because your keeping to sleep off the rest of the alcohol in your system. Bosses orders."

Fell silent when mike pulled the pistol, her lips pursed together tightly knowing this would end badly.

She could see both men held something below their exterior, but what she didn't know, but she was wondering how this all would play out. Silently she backed against the wall. She knew how to fight but her skills we're probably that of a babes compared to the 3 men in the room

Michael stayed silent, then spoke. "You hired me. You are not a duly constituted authority in the United States Army. I'm only here because it's better than getting denied another job because I won a Medal of Honor. I swore no oath to you, about you, or for you. I don't know how skilled he is at fighting hand to hand. Therefore, I evaluated him the same I evaluated that nun in Mexico carrying the basket and approaching me. A highly likely threat to my team. Your son posed a threat I was prepared to deal with. Like I told him. We'll keep it to the sparring mat. You want my respect? Prove you deserve it, other than by pulling the 'I hired you' bullshit. I got hired to work construction when I was sixteen. The boss was an asshole, and when he tried to hurt my girlfriend, I kicked his ass, then quit. Granted, I don't have a girlfriend now. But unless I recognize your authority and respect, it doesn't count for shit, sir." There was a verbal sneer on the last word, but then Michael continued.

"The alcohol didn't have enough time to do much work on my blood system. I'm still sober. You know what teaching is? It's earning the respect of the student, then giving them the skills necessary for what they're going to do. My instructors at Drill Sergeant school taught me that. The degree is bullshit. You hired me. I'll try to teach your son. But I can't teach him if he doesn't want to learn. True learning comes from understanding. I was going to have your son understand the infantry tactics from throughout history, like you hired me to teach, by demonstrating them with him. He has to be in the shape I put him in, to go through some of what we'll be doing. I don't care what his schedule is. The Army's, and mine, works, and has worked since 2010."

Now, cowardice is hiding behind a gun when you know someone is better than you. I didn't hide behind my gun. I used it to halt a potential threat, so I could better evaluate it. Calm the Hell down, both of you. If you really want to know some of what I did, we'll need to take a long walk through the woods and leave our phones here. We can make it a preliminary to the run; I don't care. I can walk away from this job just as easy I did the construction one when I was sixteen. The files on some of what I did have been sealed literally forever, and no clearance, no matter how high, can get in. That should tell you some of what I did right there. If it makes you feel better, I only keep the gun because I may need it. I don't know what for, but I prefer being safer, rather than sorrier. And what good are twin hook swords at forty meters? What good is a whip at forty meters at night? How about a thousand meters, night, and you're being engaged by an enemy unit? They're worth jack shit, and I don't carry jack shit on a mission." Michael drew the pistol, ejected the clip, cycled the chamber, caught the loose round, put it back into the clip, unsafed, then resafed, the pistol, and handed both to his employer. "And it's loaded with chalk rounds. He would have had a bruise for half a month, if I had had to fire."