Bluejay: The Protégé of Black Canary

Training

"You need to start eating healthy again. You'll need to start gaining weight if you're going to hold on to your muscle." Dinah said. She scrambled eggs on the stove.

I scoffed playfully. "Please, I'm the healthiest person I know!" To prove it, I took a long swig of milk.

Dinah didn't seem too amused. "Chocolate milk doesn't count." She took the milk carton off the counter, setting it back in the fridge.

"Nuh uh!" I protested. "I once read something about how it helps build muscle. Protein or something. Maybe I can go on a choco-cleanse and I'll be ripped in no time!" I tried to strike a muscle-man pose for her.

"Choco-cleanse? One word. Diabetes." Dinah sang sarcastically and added jazz hands for effect.

"Diabetes sounds better than your protein pancakes." I pointed to the box of powdered mix. "You can add all the syrup you want, but they'll still taste like dirt."

"My pancakes do not taste like dirt. The only thing you ate for six weeks were Pop-Tarts and dry ramen packets. You don't have the right to criticize my cooking skills." Dinah pointed her spatula at me.

We laughed, and it actually felt pretty good. Along with working out, and consuming more protein, she began to teach me technique. Something I had no experience or clue about, other than the movies, which according to Dinah weren't very reliable. Hollywood bedazzle or something like that.

"So, like, wax on wax off crap?" I had asked.

Dinah cracked a smile. "Not quite."

Most of my fighting knowledge was composed of right hooks and groin kicks, so I guess it was good for me to learn properly. I was taught how to both escape and accomplish certain choke or wrestling holds, like the front chokehold, the inverted face lock, the ring rope, and the stretch plum. Those would come in handy during combat. Along with that, during lunch breaks and cool downs, Dinah would lecture me about the body.

Dinah would pace back and forth after we took our morning laps, calmly explaining while I was collapsed upon the bench like a dying hippo. I probably sounded like one too as I was in between gasping for air and trying to get water back into my system. It took a good solid ten minutes before my burning throat would begin to recover.

"With enough force, an indiscriminate blow can disable a person, however, choosing your targets wisely and making tactical strikes is a much more efficient and effective way to quickly take down your opponent. There are people that aren't going to show you any mercy, so you have to be prepared to handle with those and take them down as quick as possible." Dinah said. "For example, the eyes, knees, throat, and cervical vertebrae can do the most damage. Also target the nose, jaw, kidneys, groin, and solar plexus."

"You know what would make this a lot easier?" I interrupted and raised a finger. "If you stopped using words like solar plexus."

If Canary was annoyed at my interruption, she didn't show it. She just smiled sweetly at me and said,

"Of course! How insensitive I've been! If these words are too hard for you, I can just show you instead." Dinah took a menacing step forward and cracked her knuckles.

I nearly took a tumble behind the bench and took a couple steps backwards and raised my hands.

"No no no! That's alright. Words are great!" I chuckled nervously. "Please continue."

She smiled. "Now, where were we?"

"Uhh, pressure points?"

"Ah, yes. The ulnar nerve-"

"Dinahhh."

Dinah also taught me a lot of other crap I had no idea about, like how much blood I could lose without dying, and then the symptoms of the four stages of something called hemorrhage. (I mean seriously Dinah, are you sure you're not just making up words?)