1870/Kiss Kiss, Stab Stab

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Kiss Kiss, Stab Stab
Date of Scene: 27 May 2020
Location: Weapons Testing: Triskelion
Synopsis: Finished.
Cast of Characters: Jane Foster, Achilles, Dane Whitman




Jane Foster has posed:
"I'm beginning to think fighting in less than ideal circumstances is better than sparring in friendly scenarios with crash mats and regular footing." This probably began the conversation that inevitably ends up with Jane standing in proper gear, attired in a sleek black outfit emblazoned with one too many SHIELD logos to be personally hers. Maybe it is. Maybe these are from the 'celebrity scientist goes spying' days that never really took off as a thing, because famous people make really terrible spies. Regardless of what Natasha Romanoff says.

Either way, she signed out a proper number of different 'scenario enhancing objects,' which in effect relate to different environmental hazards. She has basic training in their use, a cold comfort. "Pull pin and hurl" has been used by the US military since they had incendiaries with pins. These are somewhat more idiot proof. There are also scenarios run by simulation for the various light shows and darkness fields required, even a wind tunnel effect. No telling whether either combatant about to take the field knows this, however, but she does, and has the standard regimens with options loaded into a computer on the command center. Of course everything is recorded in various forms, but not the least of which is making sure she isn't wasting smoke fizzers or flashbangs for funsies. Taxpayer dollars at work!

Maybe more ominous are the five man-tall spikes set into the wall, byproducts not of Stark Industries or 'stolen from that blue alien' nor even Reed Richards' mad lab. No, those are hers. Which might be explained by a single rune engraved on each. And no, she hasn't explained what they do.

Achilles has posed:
    It's not like every day is routine. But after so many days, even the unusual gets to feel routine. This is why, when he read the reports that Dane Whitman might have some sword training.... okay, so a trainee doesn't get to know about the Ebony Blade and all that jazz. But having sword skills in your dossier is a whole different thing. But that is why Achilles, aka Angelo Tampambulos, has been seeking out Agent Whitman for the sake of comparing notes, skills and the like.
    But either way, when he mentioned an interest in such things, it maaaaaaay have caused a bit of an overreaction in Agent Foster. Achilles strides into the room and lifts his brows, "When I expressed an interest in seeing how good Agent Whitman might be with his blade.... I did not expect...." and he gestures about the room.

Dane Whitman has posed:
"What's all this?" Dane looks a bit bewildered when he enters, carrying a long duffel over his shoulder. He had some vague notion that someone was looking for a sparring session suited towards his particular specialties, and it seemed schedules had finally aligned. Or maybe Jane fixed it all up, because this certainly wasn't what he was expecting.

He sets the duffel down, and extends a hand to Achilles, "Dane Whitman. Guessing you're Agent Tampabulos?" He glances about, a wry expression flitting across his face, "This wasn't my idea, I swear."

Jane Foster has posed:
Jane isn't bothered by how shiny everything is, though Dane and Achilles both expressing surprise pauses her. For a moment or two. "Did you not read the combat protocols for advanced fieldwork, January 2019 edition? At least two sessions quarterly need to integrate fully realistic environment regimens. I promise, this isn't a case of me being bored. I had to log the hours for oversight, and yours. I otherwise would be sleeping right now." She could just be serious given how odd the hours are, when kept by an astrophysicist actively pursuing and tracking things in the stars. "It's perfectly fine if you want to resume in a normal training room in the Triskelion. I have no issues with relocating, but then I am not the one prodding at the other with a pointy object."

Nope! Just the medic.

Achilles has posed:
    There is definitely a pause as Achilles absorbs that commentary from Jane. He inclines his head and looks to Dane. "This -was- just an offer to find a sparring partner in hopes of finding another enthusiast with whom I might enjoy some practice, yes?" he asks in his lightly English accented voice.
    "Or did I miss something and this got turned into some formal training scenario that was never intended?"
    He grins with a shrug as he steps forward and gestures to Jane, "You are always thorough Agent Foster. I am unsure if any of this was... as intended, but it -is- welcome."

Dane Whitman has posed:
"I think we did indeed get pulled into some kind of qualification run." Dane replies, "Something about birds and stones, I guess." He looks in good humor over the situation, "And besides, I'm always up for a little more of a challenge."

"I must have forgotten that particular segment of the protocols." He asides to Jane. He did read them, honestly. But come on...it was a few hundred pages. He's only been an Agent for a couple months! And been busy besides. In any case, he moves to set down the duffel and extract at least one of the training swords carried within. Weighted and balanced to mimic the Ebony Blade as closely as can be managed. "Need to warm up? Or are we ready to go?"

Jane Foster has posed:
"Birds, stones, and shameless opportunity to get it out of the way. Come June or July, everyone remembers they haven't done it and booking space becomes next to impossible. You'll thank me if the director decides this is well worth your time." The brunette laughs softly as she gives her explanation to fend off trouble. She doesn't complain otherwise for setting up the module, giving a gesture after swiping around on the screen. A simple projection of a circle illuminates the ground, giving a clean demarcation point. The ambient lighting in the room turns a little more comfortable, closer to daylight than 'cavernous weapons testing area.' Thankfully those bulbs are positioned so they don't inadvertently blind someone less than fifteen feet tall. The great fans start churning slowly to even offer some respite from New York humidity, which starts in May and ends around November, if it ever does.

She doesn't even complain about it, flashing a blithe smile. "You do whatever you need, I'm going to set up everything here. I did most of the prep work though, so barring Agent Barton firing a hundred arrows from a catwalk, all's set on my end."

Achilles has posed:
    Taken entirely aback, Achilles murmurs softly, "And here I thought it was a friendly invitation to spar." and he shakes his own head, turning to stride to his own gym bag. Inside, he has four different practice blades of different designs, sizes, shapes, etc.
    He places them on a bench and seems to be pondering which to use. "I must admit." he intones, "That I am more comfortable with a shield upon my arm but...." He reaches for the larger of the weapons, a four foot blade designed for reach and maneuvering more than simply thrusting like the old Greek weapons he used to use.
    But that weapon is lifted, hefted and he looks to Dane, "Warming up is a luxury oft unavailable when battle is well and truly joined, yes?" he asks before turning to regard the impromptu obstacle course, "So Agent Foster..." he states, "Where should we begin? What should we be doing aside from trying our best to bash one another with blunted weapons?"

Dane Whitman has posed:
Dane moves towards that illuminated circle, giving the blade a few light swings. "I could probably hustle up a shield or two if we wanted." He glances to Jane and smiles warmly then looks to Achilles and nods, "Fair enough." He looks about once more, and grins, "I think it's still trying to bash each other, only with obstacles and impediments now. By the by Jane what exactly are those things on the walls?"

Jane Foster has posed:
"Agent Tampambulos, you keep up with that and I'm going to put on the Nemean lion as a cloak, swill some wine from a krater, and think you somehow took offense from what was truly meant to be fun. I promise, I haven't set either of you up to fail. Emulate a nice day in the friendly air conditioned confines of the Triskelion, sure. You just remember while a leopard can't change its spots, a lioness can -- and does. At least when she's not a cub. I'll take no trouble if you want to have a friendly match, just say 'gnothi seauton' and we're good," chimes the astrophysicist without any lack of confidence at all. She instead grins, sitting up on the stool bolted to the floor. Bolted probably to stop the likes of untrustworthy agents from hurling it or the lackadaisical ones from spinning around on it. Because can they really be trusted? Probably not.

The idea of using a shield earns a bigger smile, anyway, since she very much comes from the era of guns. Shields are things worn by cosplayers and re-enactors, but there are two men who know intimately a time period she doesn't. Thus, she sits forward to watch with definite interest, keeping a hand firmly on the mouse and another pressed flat to the desk. No bored expressions here, honest. "You know Darcy is going to have kittens she didn't get to watch this. Much less that I didn't somehow incorporate sand on the floor, but I'm sure we can all make-believe that bit."

Her smile shines brighter, referring to her endless intern. "Oh, you absolutely start by bashing. Those are the theoretical science doodads that start messing with space and gravity. Nothing to worry about! I guarantee you involve too much matter for me to start displacing more than ten feet. If you were a photon, be worried!"

Dane Whitman has posed:
"It's all right, as it so happens, I pretty much always have one with me." Dane notes, and in a literal flash, the photonic shield materializes on his left arm. Shaped like a medieval heater, but formed of semi-opaque orange-yellow photons. Hopefully Jane's spikes won't mess with it too much!

He doesn't change up from that long blade he picked. He doesn't seem any less comfortable with it one hand than he did with two.

He takes up a basic defensive posture, shield forward, blade of the sword resting flat against the top edge of it. "Ready whenever you are."