[center][b]Gretchen[/b][/center]

While upside-down hanging from a ceiling rung, Gretchen listened to the words of Hank McCoy, their apparent gym teacher, and watched curiously at the first few students who reacted and went through the course.

[i]“Isn't that a protocol level-6 SHIELD obstacle course? Yeah it is, I recognize those laser formations,”[/i] she copied in a childish, mimicky voice, irritated with the creepo loser. 

“Why don’t you go marry it, [b]Freaaaaako[/b],” the insult said in a forced, deep, goofy voice. 

Still, she watched the flow and machinations of the obstacle course, deducing it to nothing but child’s play. 

She hung on to the rung with the upper front of her left foot, but slid it off and she was soon falling head-first to the ground, the world zooming in fast to her vision, gravity and wind pushing everything of her back up yet going down. 

A quick flip backwards while her body turned its very essence into light, she “landed” on her “feet” and raced forward. Each dash and jump made easy, each obstruction, high-points and long gaps made possible with intangibility and empowered jumps and runs. Past the monkey-bars, past the high-walls, not even considering the rope swings and she cleared it. It would have been easier to just walk around the thing. 

But she ran back into the course. 

Lasers, light optical amplification by stimulation of emission of electromagnetic radiation, hot, red, dangerous, [i]cooooooooooooooooooooooool…..[/i] 

It was to her quick summary that her body, in its light form, could perhaps… react to the laser…. and perhaps play around with it.

She jumped up high above the climbing wall, and let herself fall through the moving lasers. 

The beams of heat and death now passed through Gretchen’s body, and reflected in obtuse, random angles around her. The climbing wall itself seared against the intensity of the EM radiation.

She laughed as the lasers spread to angles all over the gym, to the people waiting standby! 

She fell hard on the floor, her figure of light dispersing as though she’s disintegrated, only to materialize, realize into a form next to Hank McCoy, back into her physical, devilishly beautiful form. 

“Record time for Gretcheeeeen!” she sped off to the bleachers and lay down, legs raised in the air, crossing them as she planted them back to the floor.