7711/Show Me What You Can Do

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Show Me What You Can Do
Date of Scene: 06 September 2021
Location: Yonkers on the private estate of an old colonial farm
Synopsis: Angelo Tampambulos and Michael Erickson meet on green fields to fight. After initially holding back, Erickson fights without reserve. Unarmored, the Angelo wins the first round.
Cast of Characters: Jessica Drew, Achilles, Michael Erickson




Jessica Drew has posed:
Angelo had suggested an old out-of-the-way farm. Jessica likes her comforts and does one better by finding a VRBO about a hundred miles from the Triskelion in New York State. The farm is a hundred acres surrounded by old second-growth forest on three sides. The house is a beautiful example of late 18th Century colonial architecture, lovingly restored. Behind the house are stables, and behind the stables is an oval track and large fields for pasturing horses. The horses are gone now, but the home, stables, and fields are still well cared for.

"We're going to get some R&R," she says, pulling her overnight case from the back of the car and walking toward the broad front steps of the house. "Plenty of space for us all. Big kitchen. I had stuff delivered to the house this morning, and the housekeeper put it away for me."

Achilles has posed:
    Looking over Jessica's choice, Angelo lifts a brow, "You know that the idea was to be someplace where any rampant destruction wouldn't ruin anything worth keeping intact, right?" he asks...

    He is amused though, and can go along with the idea for the most part. "Wait, housekeeper? I thought we were also trying to avoid bystanders just in case of.. you know... Big Badda Boom?" he asks, quoting a cult classic sci fi movie.

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Relax, Max," Jess replies with a grin as she walks through the front door. "We can go to the woods if you must do that much mayhem. The housekeeper is gone for the week and will be back to clean up when we leave. Privacy insured."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "I don't mean to disappoint you lot," Michael says with overnight bag hanging from his shoulder, "But there's not gonna be 'big badda booms'. I use small arms and physical strength, nothing explosive." He gives Angelo an apologetic smile. "My death-rays are infantry-scale, I'm afraid. Perhaps when I've mastered more of these new systems I've acquired, I'll be able to do more. But that will take some time."

    To Jessica he says, "You know, I met with the headmistress of the Xavier School. They want me to come teach there for a while. Pretty much the same thing I'd do for SHIELD, really."

Achilles has posed:
    Shaking his head, Angelo smirks. "I mean sure. Ruin my fun razzin' here." he says to Michael. "And seriously, you have death rays?" he asks.

    And then he inclines his head, "Xavier School?" he asks. I mean come on, it's not exactly common knowledge, even in SHIELD.

    But he moves to peer about the place and nods, "I remember having a place something like this a while back. But.. I've had a lot of places."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Eyebrows furrowed, Jess nods without comment to Michael. "What exactly do you imagine that being, Mike?" She sets her bag down in the front hall and looks around at the beautifully appointed old fashioned furnishings with a satisfied air.

"It looks like we have more refined 'big badda booms' in mind, Angelo. You can show him /your/ stuff while I stuff my face on all sorts of deli food." Jessica's slim figure belies any habit of junk food binging.

"How many houses do you think you've owned or occupied, you old Greek?" she glances at him with a smile. "Alright, go pick out your bedrooms. Save me the best, of course."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Teaching people about my people, that sort of thing." Michael shrugs at her furrowed brow. "Given my people were trying to murder them, that's more than fair enough if you ask me." He looks to Angelo, then, and chuckles. "You'll like it. Particle beam weapons, X-ray penetrators, all that sort of thing. Just nothing that will bring the military."

    And with that he's off to select his bedroom - which is at once the smallest and the outermost, with a good view of two sides of the house that are most vulnerable. Keeping his eye on any potential nasties, it would appear. It's not paranoia if they haven't recently been out to get you.

Achilles has posed:
    That last question of Jessica's has Angelo pausing to consider, "Do rental units count?" he inquires, "Or homes I lived in that were owned by family members?"

    And that has him so distracted that he kinda misses some of what Michael said. He just sits down and starts to mentally count. "By Zeus's thunderbolt, I could spend a year counting it up." he mutters.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica wanders off to take the master bedroom overlooking the wide expanse of ivied lawn leading to the stables. It is an airy room with a period chintz bedspreads on the canopy bed. The house has had modern amenities added to it and she can see a clawfoot tub through an open door.

After a quick change, she emerges from the bedroom in tactical gear. As she passes each bedroom door, she says, her voice carrying, "I'll meet you all behind the stables. I changed to tac gear to watch you all work each other over if you're good with that."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Michael himself emerges carrying a simple duffel bag of black codura in the tactical tradition, otherwise dressed in plain jeans and t-shirt and battered cafe racer jacket. "Right," he says, stepping out into the hall just as Jessica passes and hollers their way. "I'll see you there in a moment." He ducks back inside; there's the sound of an opening window, and a faint, electric buzz. Something red and metallic takes the place of him in a handful of seconds, seeing him soon standing behind the stables before everyone else.

Achilles has posed:
    And still, Angelo is sitting at the kitchen table, thinking and tabulating, "It's a good thing that I don't have to pay property taxes on hundreds of homes. I'd go broke." he mutters. But when he spots Jessica in her gear, he nods and stands up, "Okay. I'll make a spreadsheet later to help figure out the number. Now you've got me all curious."

    But then he shrugs, "I suppose subtlety is out the window to a degree. Who's gonna see us out here huh?" and that said, he starts walking for the door. As he does, his armor begins to materialize on him. The bronze lined thin breastplate, the armored skirt, greaves... he keeps the helmet off for now because it gets hot in that thing. Seriously.

    He heads towards the stables, his shield appearing on his left arm.

Jessica Drew has posed:
The sun glints off of Angelo's armor. Jessica watches him stride around the stable and she thinks of a famous quote from the battle of Thermopylae, "Molon Labe." She has a feeling that it might be apropos for them today.

The Shi'ar armor that Michael has donned doesn't glint in the sun. It's faceless helmet is ominous, the red reminding her of a firetruck, an ambulance and blood.

Standing between the two, she agrees with Angelo, "Nothing subtle here. Gloves are off. Just try not to hit me, please. Agent Erickson, it's your decision about how much force to use. Angelo is very very hard to kill." She turns to the man in question, "Can you be killed?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Like a big old emergency signal is Michael in that moment -- and then, as he turns back to look at the two approaching, the long angled visor strip that marks where his eyes should be flashes, as does the armor, leaving him standing there again in jeans and t-shirt.

    "Um, hey, look," he says, "I thought we were doing target practice. I don't want to fight you guys."

Achilles has posed:
    "We -are- doing target practice. I happen to be the target and Agent Drew, evidence leans towards no. But one can never discount the fact that someone might have a way around it." offers Angelo as he rolls his neck, "I mean it still hurts, and I might look fucked up for a bit but.."

    He shrugs and says, "Time -is- a doctor who heals all griefs as Dilphilus once said. I will be fine. I am as immortal as mighty Zeus himself."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica turns big green eyes on both of the Agents, a mischievous spark lurking in the innocent look she gives them both.

"This is not official. We wanted to give you an opportunity to stretch out in your armor, Erickson. Learn about it. Learn about you. I mean, if you can teach at Xavier's School you can be teaching your handler and Agent Tampambulos what you can do. It makes for better team work, don't you agree?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    He understands. He does. Michael takes a deep breath, however, and runs a hand through his loose crop of black hair. Weirdly 1930s cut. "Okay so yeah, I get it," he says, "But you need to understand, our combat styles, they're /military/, okay? You've seen me fight, Jessica. I put people in the hospital. That's how I was trained. And I don't want to hurt people that I work with. You got a dash'kathii?" He blinks. "I mean, like, a training robot or something? Fine. But I'm not comfortable sparring with you guys. However super you are."

    He looks to Angelo. "You get what I'm saying, right? My people make the Spartans look like, totally invested in child safety."

Achilles has posed:
    "You may have read what history recorded about the Spartans." offers Angelo as he rolls his neck. "I have lived through what they did -not- put into the history books. So... no offense, but everyone thinks theirs is the best and baddest. . . And if you think it might be unfair... let me remind you that I have been fighting -wars- for over three thousand years. There is an adage that I have always loved." he states as he holds his right hand out, materializing his bronze spear in the hand. "Old age and experience can beat youth and energy. You just need to know the best way to cheat."

    He lifts his spear and points it over the top of his shield as that shield is lowered down to cover most of his body. "As for super, I am only as super as a super soldier. Jessica here is the one who can lift cars. Now.. show me what you've got. My celestial bronze can handle it." And as he says that, his crest-less helmet forms on his head.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica walks to a white fence and climbs on it, slipping her feet behind a wooden slat, to face the two men. Pitching her voice to cover the distance, "Start small? Work up? I don't want you to be uncomfortable. I hadn't considered finding you targets, Erickson. Trust Tampambulos to tell you what he is willing to take. It will be interesting to be able to work with you as a team." She pauses, adding, "Don't you think?"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    He stares at the man for a long moment. "All right," Michael says, looking between the two of them - clearly unconvinced, but...well. Superheroes. Right? Metahumans. "Okay. Well. Should I use the armor, or...?"

Achilles has posed:
    "The choice is yours. But.. we are here to see what you -can- do. I will play mostly defense, but I will launch an attack here and there if I see an opening." offers Angelo.

    As he speaks, he begins creeping forward. "And don't worry about the gear. It was forged by Hephaestus himself. If it is somehow damaged, it will heal itself."

    And then... he lunges with his spear. But it's only a feint really. The goal is not to strike, but to provoke a reaction... the spear coming back quickly into a guard position.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Hands on the rail to either side of her, Jessica leans forward intently, watching the strange meeting of ancient Greece face-to-face with otherworldly technology. "You look like a frieze straight off of an ancient amphora, Tampambulos!"

She voices her opinion loudly enough, "Use your armor, Erickson!"

Michael Erickson has posed:
    His eyes are clear, sharp - and when Tampabulos prods with the lance, Michael's body reacts as if on automatic. It has been a very long time since he trod blasted lands caught in the grip of total warfare, tasted ash and blood and death on scales that Achilles likely never has...but it all comes back to him in that instant, when the spear comes in, fast and sharp. He doesn't meld into his armor; instead he drops low, snapping into a bare-handed fighting stance that recalls brutal wrestling and dancing all at once. His fingers curl into claws as he stands ready, still low, blue eyes sharp and bright.

    "Not yet," he says. "I want to start like this." Unarmed. Apparently. "How strong are you, Tampambulos?"

Achilles has posed:
    Pausing, Angelo lowers the spear. "I have been told that I am about as strong as a human being can be. It was stated by someone that I was on par with Captain Rogers there. I do have a barely unfair advantage in that I don't need to work out as hard as some others might to maintain that."

    "Perhaps we should start with both of us unarmed." he states as he dismisses his gear back into his bracers. "Your stance reminds me of a variant of a Shaolin style I learned called Eagle Claw." he states as he steps back to adopt a stance of that style. "Focus is on harsh grabs and clawlike finger swipes to the face."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Occupying space and defensive maneuvers seems to surpass earthly barriers. Perhaps there are universal movements for bipedal beings. Erickson's style recalls Chinese martial arts but there is a flair to it that no one in China has likely seen. Jessica nods to herself, approving the decision to start unarmed to measure their strength. Both men strike her as almost being too honorable to make good warriors though time has proven them both to be formidable in the field.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    "Eagle Claw is different," Michael says with a toss of his head, slowly moving to circle Angelo. "And if that's only as strong as you are, I'd kill you if I were attacking you for real. Or if I'd hit you, anyway. Shi'ar on this planet can lift over two thousand pounds, and can apply the same force into blows." This would be why dudes go flying when he attacks. "The armor would be magnitudes worse." He frowns, then, looking at Jessica for a moment before shaking his head and looking back to Angelo. "Look, are you sure about this? I don't know how well I can pull punches."

Achilles has posed:
    "Show me." says Angelo. "But, for the sake of argument, let's forget that I am not impervious to harm, but -highly- resistant to it even without armor. I want to -see- your best. Not a pulled punch.."

    That said, he slips right out of Eagle Claw and into something he has become -far- more comfortable with. Something a lot less esoteric and high-flying.

    His stance is something simple. Deceptively simple. Japanese in origin. Both hands open and held before him. Left leg back and turned ninety degrees, right leg pointing forward, knee bent a bit. Ease of movement, ease of redirection.

    The only thing missing is a Hakama. "Show me your best." he says, "And I will see if I can handle it. If I can't, I'll live, don't worry." he says.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica is enjoying herself if her smile is any indication. "Go ahead, Erickson! Don't hold back. Field reports say that Tampambulos can take a lot of damage. I've seen it myself. He will put himself in front of everyone in some fields ops. It's freaky."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Michael knows the style, apparently; watching the shift of Angelo's fighting style into something more redirective, he seems to relax - at least, a little bit. "That's one way to deal with things," he murmurs, and there's a real moment of conflict on his face...but then the conflict is gone, and his expression falls away to be replaced with a flat, stony mask of grim resolve.

    "All right," he says, "If that's how it's going to be."

    He moves - fast. He's not superhuman, of course, but Michael has trained damned near all his life in some fighting style or another and the incredibly intensive training of the War Cadres has been supported by decades of further training and combat experience; he isn't as skilled as Achilles, of course (how could he be, thousands of years and all?) but he is absolutely approaching those rarified strata. The claws tighten into flat hammers, fingers curled and tucked in, palms out; he strikes with flurries of blows and kicks that cause the air to shudder so forceful are they compared to more, well, human combatants. It isn't super-strength in the way of more powerful supercreatures; there's a compact, measured brutality to every strike that promises real injury. Whether Achilles gets hit or not depends on a combination of the other man's skill and his ability to soak the impact, but it's going to be a real toss-up considering he's fighting a literal demigod of war.

    But then again, he isn't human...

Achilles has posed:
    The initial movements are to define that point in space.. more like a vertical line going from the ground beneath his right knee, straight up into the air. But then again, there are subtle things that warriors pick up on. Such as realizing that your opponent recognizes the style you have set yourself up to use.

    And so Angelo gives a bit of ground, bending like the metaphorical reed in the wind. He lets Michael give everything he has and while much of the force is redirected, there is no such thing as a perfect defense. Two or three strikes that should have been straight on killing blows were diverted enough to graze a cheek, to strike at a withdrawing hip... and while Angelo has a cut on his left jawline... that is healed by the time he defends against two more shots.

    That is when he changes things up. There was a reason that the Samurai learned Kenjutsu and Jiujutsu... as one Sensei told him... now this could just be that Sensei's viewpoint, but the reason was so that they could kill with one blow whether they were armed or unarmed.

    The next strike from Michael meets an index finger knuckle that strikes JUST at the inside part of the elbow, even as Angelo tries to step inside his reach, twisting to present an elbow to Michael's face... but that's just a distraction, a feint... as his left leg is extended, hopefully between Michael's legs and behind one knee so that Angelo can lean his way, trying to put the man on his back. Now... that is the intent. Whether it works or not depends on whether is is perceived for what it is in time.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Like a ringside manager that moves with every blow that his champion fighter makes, Jessica feints and twists on her seat. Hands clutching the top of the fences, she dodges blows, her face contorting with each strike that comes in for a landing.

It is one of the best fights that she has witnessed without being involved herself. She has no favorite to win in this battle but hopes she never has to face either of them in anger or as an enemy.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    They had a saying in the training cadres -- do not stop until you've clawed your way through the man. And that is what Michael does his damnedest to do, regardless of knowing who he's up against. He has his own weaknesses, of coures, especially the brutaity with which he strikes leaving him open to more attacks than probably would be good against a superhuman opponent: but he's usually armored, and hus foes aren't normally all that superhuman. Positioned against everyday humans, however well-equipped, Michael is a real killer of men.

    But he isn't dealing with everyday humanity, and Angelo's had milennia to practice against Michael's relatively very meager sixty. So while he matches Angelo's strikes as best he can, fending and laying down counterblows, in the end Angelo's redirection of the furious river of blood and aggression that is Michael's attacks finally results in the Shi'ar being put on his back with that final movement. And then he lies there, staring at the sky. Not hurt, not really. Not even his pride. He just lies there. And then he's getting up.

    "All right," he says then, in a distant kind of way, "I think that's enough. But thank you, truly."

Achilles has posed:
    "No. Thank -you-. I have always believed that until you fight a man.. or a woman." he says as he gives a nod towards Jessica, "That you cannot truly understand them. I think of a good fight as a conversation. One where you can learn as much about the core of a person as you can learn about their movements. For example.."

    "There is a place for relentless attacks. But overextending one's self when attacking leaves one vulnerable if their target is not one which can be overcome immediately."

    "That said... anyone else that I have fought one on one in a long time, would not have landed ninety percent of the attacks that you got through. It took everything I had to turn a hit into a graze, let me tell you. Your strength -is- imposing. And if I were to try to oppose it directly, I would have crumbled."

    That said, he holds a hand out towards Michael. "I hope I get to fight at your -side- someday."

Jessica Drew has posed:
If Jessica had had any hopes for the outcome of the fight this was the best she could have imagined. After Michael had finally let go and fought without reserve the fight had surpassed all her expectations. Seeing Angelo bring to the fore all of his experience was a rare treat, one that she'll carry in memory for a long time.

Michael appears barely winded. The Shi'ar strength and stamina is really otherworldly. Even an Olympic athlete would be breathing hard. Angelo, despite being a demi-god, seems more human to her.

Jumping down from her perch on the fence, "What do you say? Lunch and then you can try out fighting each other armored?" Looking from one man to the other, "You were both formidable. Unbelievable. It was a real pleasure watching you."