8567/Training Days

Training Days
Date of Scene:	06 November 2021
Location:	The Triskelion: Courtyard
Synopsis:	Sam puts two SHIELD agents through their paces in an early morning training session. Falcon Jr. takes flight, and the Archivist throws some punches.
Cast of Characters:	Sam Wilson, Cael Becker, Jonathan Sims

---

Sam Wilson has posed:
    It's 0700 hours. Early, yes, early enough that the sun hasn't quite risen yet, though there is a glow to the eastern edge of the sky. Air traffic is a constant around the Triskelion, but Sam has managed to carve out a small patch of time where incoming and outgoing Quinjets and the like will be routed around this particular patch of the grounds, out near the edge of the property. The grass is still green despite the chill in the air, which necessitates bundling up. Sam has a pair of loose-fitting workout pants and sneakers on, though he's bundled up in a SHIELD-branded fleece jacket and a scarf that he currently has his face tucked into.

    There are a couple of mats laid out nearby, and a gym bag, and then also a very shiny case about the size of a steamer trunk, though slightly wider and flatter. He stares up at the sky as his hands warm around a thermos of coffee.

Cael Becker has posed:
    '7am? Seriously?' had been Cael's reply - but she's here, pulling up in her Corvette C6 rather than her bike. Look, it's cold enough at this hour without adding racing down highways on a motorcycle to the morning. As she steps out of the car, she has her own coffee in hand, and is similarly bundled up against the cold. She pauses by the door of the screamingly yellow car, sipping from her cup before starting over towards Sam.
    "This is literally the worst time, you know. It's too late to stay up until, too early to wake up properly. So let me say that I officially hate you now." There's no ire behind the words hoever, and despite the fact that she looks genuinely tired - is that actually a hint of a smile on at the corner of her lips?
    Nah. Probably not.
    Her expression grows more serious as she adds, "Hey, look, you know that advice you gave me? About my friend," her eyes flick to the approaching Jon, "that I hadn't talked to for a while? I did get to talk to her, actually, and it- honestly, it helped more than I thought. So... thanks for the nudge, I guess. And sorry if I've been a total bitch, at any point. Uh... apparently I need to cut that out." Just don't expect it to stop all at once.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon's been living at the Triskelion, and while he's not a morning lark per se he does tend to be up fairly early. So he comes out of the main building, bundled up in a similar manner to Sam, his own scarf emerald green. He likes green, okay? And he grew up in the south of England; New York is /cold/ at this time of year.

    "I'm usually in the office by this time, of a morning," he comments idly to Cael. "First patient appointments tend to be eight a.m." He doesn't comment about Cael's friend. He doesn't know anything about that to comment on.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam is the kind of guy who, unfortunately (in his own opinion) was never able to shake the routine that the military installed in him. So he's bright eyed and bushy tailed, and he'll never get to sleep in another day for the rest of his life. RIP.

    "Look, it was either this or 2AM on a Tuesday. Had to grease a few palms up in traffic control just to get some airspace." He takes a drink from his thermos. "Even still, we might get cut short if there's an emergency." The expression on Sam's face shifts to match Cael's when she gets serious, and he looks at her over top of his coffee for a long moment before he nods. "I'm glad it all worked out," he says.

    And then any follow-up will have to wait until they're alone. "When I'm on campus it's the same for me, though with my schedule I've been doing a lot of telecommuting," Sam's saying as he sits down on that shiny metal case, and then he gestures towards the mats that are laid out. "Time to warm up." No time for pulled muscles in this training sesh, folks!

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Next time - 2am on a Tuesday," Cael insists. "I stay up //until// dawn more often than I get up //at// dawn." She seems content to let the mention of her sister drop for the moment, as her attention shifts towards Jon, a faint and puzzled frown on her features. ...was this an intervention? A psychiatric intervention? "Hello again... Agent Sims." It's actually a relief when Sam suggests it's 'time to warm up, and she gives a shrug of her shoulders. She moves towards one of the mats, taking another sip from her coffee.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon groans, but says, "Well, I suppose if the larks get a 7am training sessions, the owls should get a 2am one, hmm?" He gulps down half his coffee in one go as he moves to a mat of his own. He's done general physical education stuff, he... knows how to stretch. Mostly. Sort of.

    ...Vocal warmups don't count, do they?

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Guess who's already stretched? Yep, it's Sam. He's warmed up and ready to... sit and tell other people what to do. Yes. "Trainer's prerogative," he calls out to Cael. "I am warm and comfortable tucked up under the covers with my ambient nature sounds playing at 2AM unless the world is ending, so it's 7AM or bust."

    Then he gestures for them to get to it. "Agent Sims, I've seen one hundred year olds who are more limber than you!" Is he talking about Captain America? He's probably talking about Steve. Right? "Come on! You want to feel the burn now, not when you're trying to throw a punch and you feel something pop."

    Sam takes a noisy slurp of his coffee. "Follow Agent Becker's lead." He rests his elbows on his knees as he observes. "Relax. Take slow, measured breaths. The important thing here is to hold each stretch for at least thirty seconds."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Fuck you," Cael tells Sam - but the normally ascerbic words are said with amusement, even as she rolls her eyes. Damned early-risers are going to torture the hell out of her - aren't they? Ugh. Even as she says this, though, she's going through a warm up routine - starting with a few stretches, and moving on to squats, lunges - even pushups.
    Once she's on the pushups, though, she looks aside at Jon, a challenging grin on her features as she starts counting them off. "One, two, three..." The message was perfectly clear. She was challenging the psychiatrist and newbie agent to keep up with her.
    Good luck with that. Could be worse, though. They could both be up against that centenarian Sam had mentioned.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    It takes all of Jon's willpower not to snap a response at Sam, but he can't help flicking a glare over. The insult is clearly motivation, though, and Cael's challenge is even moreso. Jon, it seems, has a competitive streak.

    He breaths as instructed, relaxes--he knows how to breathe and relax properly, /that/ he's good at. The challenging stare he gives the ground while doing pushups isn't very relaxing, and there's /no/ way he's keeping up with Cael, but he does try. He's not really out of shape or anything, it's more his form that he's needing to improve.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam's no ninja, but he is fairly quiet on his approach to the mats. "You want to earn your wings, Becker? You're getting the crash course equivalent of the two years of daily training I underwent when I joined the Falcon program. And let me tell you, my days didn't start at oh-seven-hundred."

    He's not barking, though. This isn't Sam being a drill sergeant (or an MTI in Air Force terms). In fact, he's practically being conversational here, which is reinforced by him casually sipping his coffee throughout. He gives a couple of wordless but approving noises when Jon's stretching improves, and when Cael eventually issues her challenge, he snorts. "Putting you two together is either going to be the best or worst decision I've ever made," he decides.

    And then he walks over to Jon's side. "Okay if I correct your form?" he asks, and if no objections are given, Sam puts a hand flat against Jon's back, pushing slightly. "Imagine you're balancing a board on your back. You should feel it on your shoulders, your glutes, your calves, and your heels. Keep it stable as you move up and down."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I want the damned wings," Cael confirms - keeping silent count in her head as she talks, and then picking back up at the correct point in her counting as she continues her warm-up routine.
    Eventually, though, she stops - sitting cross-legged on her mat to sip at her coffee, determined to finish off the much-needed elixir. Waking up to see the sun rise was seeing it the wrong-way 'round, as far as she was concerned - and there was no way she was going to stop resenting that fact.
    But she was here, and determined to do her best - even if she doubted she'd ever really be issued her own set of wings. I mean - how much did those things even cost?

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon... blinks. He knows anatomy, he's always telling his patients about the power of good posture for one's mental and physical health. So he knows what Sam means, and it helps his form improve quite a bit.

    Once he's finished, he makes a soft noise of irritation in the back of his throat as he sits up and reaches for his own coffee. "Martin's going to thank you," he says to Sam. "He's always badgering me to join him in the gym, and I suppose I'm going to have to if I'm going to beat Agent Becker here." Oh, yes. He's /going/ to manage to beat her at... whatever competitive thing he's got in his head.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Stepping back, Sam only observes as Cael and Jon work through the last of their pushups. His thermos is finally empty, and he sets it down in the grass next to his duffle bag. "Don't worry Agent Sims. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be in the best shape of your life. Now, go take a jog around the garden," he says as he points to a path worn into the grass that circles around a modest few flowerbeds and a copse of trees. And then he says "Agent Becker," as he approaches the shiny case. Sam crouches down in the grass and presses his thumb to a small, blank touchscreen on its front, and the locks come open with a soft click. And then, as he stands, Sam opens the case.

    It's the Falcon gear, of course. What Sam usually uses. "You studied those manuals I sent, right? Get suited up."

    Though Sam of course remains nearby to help get her into it, should she need help. There are a surprising amount of hidden buckles.

Cael Becker has posed:
    A slow grin grows across Cael's features are the wings are revealed, though she doesn't touch them just yet. Nope, like Mal in the town of Canton, it seems this here's a spectacle that might warrent a moment's consideration.
    But the moment passes, and she gets to work putting the pieces on. She picks each piece up in the right order - it seems she paid attention to those manuals - but reading and doing are not the same thing, leading her to struggle with figuring out just how all the straps work, and how everything connects. "How fast can you get into this thing?" she asks curiously.
    Not that she expects to break Sam's record on that front anytime soon.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon can't help a brief grin as he puts down his coffee and climbs to his feet--he can guess what a moment like this means to Cael. Then he's jogging around the garden, and... look, he's not in /great/ shape, but he /does/ take the stairs instead of elevators, takes further subway stations than he needs to, goes for walks to clear his head. And the sped-up healing factor has been helping his lungs recover from years of smoking, which is... honestly the worst thing he has going for him. So he's going at a pretty good pace, considering.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    "In an emergency? Just over twenty seconds, but that's just with the wingpack, goggles, and gauntlets. Everything, though, including the body armor?" Sam's head tips from side to side, for a moment. "About a minute." He steps in to help Cael with some of the trickier bits, the ones that he learned only by repetition. And it's a heavy thing to have on one's shoulders, that's for damn sure, though as the straps and buckles click into place, the weight is slowly distributed so more of Cael's core muscles are bearing it. He steps back, and looks her over.

    Then his eyes scan the area, and he tracks Jon's progress. "Lookin' good, Sims!" he calls out. Then, back to Cael: "How does it feel?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Chriiiiiist Sam," Cael murmurs as the bulk of the weight settles onto her shoulders. "You run in this thi- you're going to make me run in this thing, aren't you?" She asks, her gaze going from Sam, to Jon, and back again. She lets out a heavy sigh, but doesn't look particularly detered. She even tries a squat, to test her mobility and strength with the added weight.
     A pushup would be a nightmare, though. Let alone, say, a dozen or so.
    "Feels alright. Heavy, bulky... but you can tell some thought went into the design. Especially into the weight distribution." And, she presumes, the supports - since the thing is meant to lift her off the ground.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon gives Sam a thumbs up as he keeps on jogging, comments idly as he comes back around toward them, "This is... surprisingly easier than I thought it would be. I wonder if there's some enhanced cellular regeneration...?" He eyed Cael as he jogs past. "Good luck with that!" he says.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Though Sam says nothing, the cheshire grin that spreads across his face is probably confirmation enough. "As you can imagine," he starts, once the moment has passed, "The weight distribution is very important for flight. It might feel like you're weighed down by something now, but once your body adapts to it, it starts to feel natural."

    He flashes a thumbs up back at Jon when he passes by. "Keep it up, rookie!" he teases. Then he looks back at Cael, one eyebrow raised. "Well? ...He's got one lap on you already."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "God damn you, Sam Wilson," Cael answers the man - but again, there's strangely no ire to the words - despite the early hour. Maybe it was the excitement of having a go at the wings? Maybe an impossible conversation with a dead sister really had made that big of an impression? It was hard to tell.
    She does, obligingly, turn to jog after Jonathan - not trying to rush as she gets a feel for how she moves with the thing strapped to her - and just how quickly that much extra weight is going to tire her out.
    She wants to fire them up so badly - but she knows that's a sure fire way to lose her wing-privileges, as well as the respect of one of the few people she considers a friend, for good.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon glances behind him and then /grins/ and starts to speed up, so he's jogging and then jogging /faster/...

    "I'm evidently in worse shape than a /centanarian/, so you with all your training and experience should be able to keep up even with the handicap, right, Agent Becker?" He obviously means 'handicap' in, like, the sports way. Not being ableist here, okay.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam goes into the duffle bag. What's in it? Oh, you know. Various gear. Tape, in case someone needs to wrap their knuckles. Also a big carafe, one of those double-wall insulated ones that can keep hot liquids hot and cold liquids cold for a real long time. He pours said liquid into his previously empty thermos, then steps back over to the box that had previously held his Falcon gear. He closes it, sits back down, and takes a long sip of coffee.

    "Ahhhhhh," he says. And then he shouts out, without actually looking to see what's going on, "Lift your knees up, Agents!" Yeah, he's just goading them on at this point.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "He meant Captain Fuckin' America, damn you!" Cael calls after Jonathan - a little of her former bite creeps into her words there. Maybe it's the fact that the man goading her //isn't// one of the people she considers a friend, or the early morning is getting to her, or she's that disappointed about being ordered to job, instead of fly. But obligingly she runs on - living her knees as ordered, and keeping pace with Jonathan despite the weight on her back.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Regardless of his particular advantages," Jon notes, and has to stop and take a breath, "he's still /old./ Entropy... it... oh bloody hell." He has to focus, he's not /quite/ running, because knee lifts are /hard/ if you're running, but he's pushing it. And look, Cael may not consider Jon a friend but stronger friendships have been born out of silly competitions.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam full-on cackles into his thermos of coffee, overhearing their conversation in the still morning air. He lets them work their way through a couple more laps before he whistles, sharp, and lifts a hand to beckon them on back in.

    They both get tossed a bottle of water once they've made it back. "Good work, both of you. You're in better shape than I was expecting, Sims." He nods at Jon, and then at Cael, too. "Take five. Keep the gear on, Cael. You're going to be wearing it every morning until it feels like a second skin."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael catches the water, moving towards the case the wings had come in to take a seat. "Not entirely sure I know how to take them off, anyways," she says - a little out of breath. She drinks some of the water before remarking, "Dare I ask how long before you'll trust me to actually turn the things on?" she asks, after her first long pull.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon fumbles the catch slightly--he needs to work on the hand-eye coordination--and says while opening the bottle, "I /am/ a medical doctor. I know the /theory/ of staying in shape." He takes a sip of the water, then another longer one. Takes a moment to lean over, stretching out his back a bit, before he sits to catch his breath.

    "How do those work, anyway?" He's genuinely curious, looking at the wings with interest. He doesn't know any more about Falcon than what's public.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    "Theory only gets you so far on the battlefield. Nothing can replace training and experience, which is why I dragged you out here today," Sam says. "Plus, it's a good way to assess your competencies and weaknesses." He gestures to them both with an open hand and shakes his head. "Now that we've established you're both up to the task of snarking under physical stress..."

    When Cael asks about actually turning the wings on, Sam's only response is a non-response, just a tip of his head. But at Jon's follow-up, he folds his arms over his chest. "Well, why don't we give you a demo." Then he points at Cael. "A strictly ground-based demo. You read the manuals, yeah? Walk through a pre-flight check to step seven."

    Step seven is, of course, the step where one deploys the wings from the pack to begin checking them over for damage or other issues.

    And while Cael gets started--there's a lot to do between steps one and seven, and each step has several nested subtasks beneath it--Sam looks the suit over. "The wings are made of a flexible microlattice of graphene reinforced with magnesium and steel alloys. The articulation in the ailerons--the panels that look like feathers--are the primary means of steering in flight." He starts to circle around Cael, giving her a wide berth. "There are three main jet engines in the pack--Redwing's plus two others--that generate thrust, plus the greaves have smaller engines that mostly provide stabilization for take-off and landing."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I hadn't displayed that ability yet? Either I've been slipping - or you ain't been paying fucking attention, Wilson," Cael quips back.
    She's taking another drink from her water just as Sam instructs her to practice a system's check, and she swallows the water she lets out a sigh. "You know damned well that's not what I meant." Still, she caps her water, climbing to her feet so she can start running through the checks - step by step. A few times she pauses - closing her eyes, or directing her gaze upwards as she tries to remember the next step. She'd paid particular attention to the pre-flight checks - because flying on faulty wings is a death wish - but really learning and internalizing something from a manual without the object in front of you to practice on? It took some real effort.
    "Hey Sims - maybe when Wilson here is done tormenting us, you and I can have a brief chat, yeah?" she suggests, before moving to the step on her check list. She seems to be doing alright - though the occassional keyword from Sam to cue her to the next step might not go amiss, from time to time.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "He didn't know /I/ was capable of it," Jon says to Cael. "I'm English, they teach us 'snarking under physical stress' in primary school."

    Then he's quiet, listening to Sam an absorbing every word, watching Cael. If Sam's read his dossier, 'perfect recall' is right up there on the list, he'll remember every detail of the conversation for later.

    "I... wouldn't mind a chat," he says. A little warily. Oh, no. Did he trip over some social more he wasn't aware of?

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Most of steps one through five are done through the touch screen on what is currently Cael's left gauntlet. She'll be seeing a lot of stats across the HUD in the goggles. The charge level of the nano-batteries that power the engines, comms and instruments checks, that sort of thing. Step six is of course a double-check of the fit of the harness and its various belts and buckles, because step seven and onwards involves deploying the wings and eventually spinning up the engines. Gotta make sure you're strapped in for all of that!

    And Sam of course gives a few hints here and there. He might be running Cael (and Jon, which... sorry Jon, but you're getting dragged along with this) ragged, but there's really no other way to compress the amount of training Sam's got down into a shorter time frame. It's out of necessity. Also he's, you know, generally a nice guy.

    And while he occasionally pauses to provide said hints, he's really only monitoring Cael lightly, for the moment. "So what would you say your strengths are in terms of general combat ability?" he asks, and this is aimed at Jon. "I know you have some non-traditional skills." Which is normal person code for 'magic'.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael is so engrossed in the task she was given, that she completely misses the fact that she induced any anxiety in Jon at all. "Great. Thanks," she says in a distracted tone. After her fifth check, she's still staring at the instrument panel, trying to remember what's next. Hadn't she checked everything? It's not until Sam cues her that she's done with the instrument panel that she lets out an 'Ohhhhh," she starts checking all the straps, to make sure they're firmly into place. "Did I miss any straps?" she asks Sam.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon raises a brow at Sam, takes a swig of water, then says, quite calmly, "Beyond the fact that on occassion I channel various Egyptian dieties in order to smite those who have been deemed unworthy of the afterlife?" Is that just deadpan snark or he is serious? He looks serious. "I have recently discovered that I can manifest constructs from the Astral Plane into the physical world. 'Magic,' yes, in the parlance, although it works differently than the sort of ritual magic most people I've met use. A sorceror as opposed to a wizard, in... ahh..." He stops. Coughs. Not everyone has played D&D, Jon.

    "I have seen a properly-trained potential Archivist construct veils and gouts of fire; I myself have made a lightning whip and manifested one of Agent Blackwood's illusions into reality. A lot of what I have to learn is about focus and stamina, and... practice, really. As for the rest? I've been practicing on the range so I can use an ICER, I can throw a punch, and I know the basics of self-defense. Mar--Agent Blackwood was... rather insistent."

Sam Wilson has posed:
    How Sam manages to take in all this information with a straight face must be some secret superpower he hasn't revealed. But he does, nodding a couple of times when it seems like a good point in Jon's explanation to do so. "So it's more like you're... applying your will to reality, than reciting practiced spells?"

    Oh, whoops, did he just out himself as a total frickin' nerd right there? Whatever. Maybe he DMed D&D games for his little brother and sister to give them something to do. Maybe he did the same for kids he volunteered with. Roleplaying is a great creative outlet and there's no shame in it!

    "I'll run you through some basic drills to assess your hand-to-hand, but that sounds like a good basis to work off of," he says as he rounds on Cael and steps in, doing the exact same check of buckles and straps that she's done herself. Extra cautious. Then he steps back and gives Cael a thumbs up. "Go ahead and deploy the wings. It might take a few tries before you get the motion right, but you'll feel it when you do."

Cael Becker has posed:
    There's a brief pause in all the tugs at the straps securing her to the wings when Jon begins to talk of Egyptian deities, and the afterlife, and magic... But where as Cael would have scoffed, and perhaps even made implications about Jon's sanity in the past - she stays silent now, simply resuming her check instead.
    After she's been manhandled by Sam a little - all in the cause of safety - she gives him a nod then asks, "Show me once?"
    She watches the movement critically, and it doesn't take her more than a couple tries to mimic it - after all, she's used to learning how to mimic motions in her various combat classes. As the wings snap out, though, an almost girlishly gleeful grin grows across her features. I mean, com'on. That's just plain //cool//.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon blinks at Sam and then smiles. "Precisely! Yes, precisely that. It's even passed through my bloodline." It's good to have common ground! Then he finishes off the water--hydration is important--and nods regarding drills. He can do this. Really.

    But then he's watching Cael put out her wings, and his eyes widen. "Oh, that's /brilliant/," he says, with almost childlike enthusiasm.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    The way Sam demonstrates the arm-movement is long practiced. And then when Cael tries, he says "Hands up a little higher, level with your elbows," the first time, "Too high," the second time, and then on the third--as Cael brings her elbows up, the pack begins to lift on her back, allowing the wings to fold outwards and expand. By the tiem Cael's arms are extended, the handholds are right there for her to grab onto. "Great job," he says.

    There's something nostalgic and distantly sad in Sam's expression. Like he's seeing someone else in the wings, in his mind's eye. But the moment passes, and he's all smiles. "Move them around, get a feel for everything with them extended. They don't weigh as much as you expect so it shouldn't throw off your balance too much."

    And he steps back further to give Cael the space to do so without accidentally smacking someone with a wingtip. "It sounds to me like you generally need distance between yourself and a hostile so that you can manifest any of that," he says to Jon. "If so that's a good place for us to start."

Cael Becker has posed:
    You can see the urge to actually power up and give flight a try in Cael's gaze - but she simply responds with a nod, leaving Sam and Jon to their conversation, as she tries sweeping the arms around, feeling how they move through the air. She twists her arms and moves them, testing to see if the wings allow for her full range of motion, or if they limit them in any way, as she curiously explores how her body and the machine work together.
    And she resists the urge to childishly go up onto the box, and jump of it. It's just too silly - and yet, nonetheless persistent.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon blinks at Sam. "I... cannot properly control my abilities yet," he cautions as he puts the water bottle down and stands, slowly. "I could hurt you if I try to do something damaging." He, too, steps away from Cael, to give her plenty of space. "Unless the idea is to teach me how to create the space for myself."

Sam Wilson has posed:
    The limiter on the wings' maneuverability is moreso Cael being on the ground in this moment than anything else. They're very flexible, able to mimic the natural movements of bird wings, though admittedly there's no real point in doing that. That's not how they work. But if Cael's arms can move that way, so too can the wings.

    "No, nope, not asking you to cast any spells," Sam says, holding up both hands. "I'd say evasions and throws would be your best bet, using an enemy's momentum against them to put space between you and them. That gives you the opening to, you know..." After a second or two, Sam wiggles his fingers. Maaaaagic. "But we'll figure that out later. I need to know what you can do, first. So, throw a punch." Sam puts his arms up in a defensive posture, one foot sliding backwards.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Ignore the talk about magic. Ignore the talk about magic. Ignore the talk about- "OH MY GOD, do you know how hard it is to get the voice in my head that wants to scoff about the magic to shut up?" Cael finally remarks with some frustration. "...sorry. Just- yeah. That's still the knee-jerk reaction."
    Just because she's seen evidence of some sorts of magic doesn't mean she has to believe in all of it - does she? But these two are both //SHIELD// agents.
    "I found a limitation. Hard to cross your arms with the wings extended," she remarks.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon decides to show off... /just/ a little bit. He focuses his thoughts and wiggles his fingers of at Cael, and glowing sparkles shimmer off his fingers in purple, blue, and pink, so it can't just be mist in the morning sunlight or anything. He grins at her, and then turns to square up and throw a punch.

    And look--he /does/ know how to throw a punch! His form is good! Using his left arm, out from the shoulder, twist at the end to hit in a way that won't damage his own hand /too/ badly. He's not very strong, though.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam's not expecting his finger-wiggling to lead, even only inadvertently, to an actual display. Well, it's more Cael's inability to quiet her mental skepticism Sam presumes, but still. He had the somatic component down!

    "Let go of the grip with your non-dominant hand," he says to Cael even as he's looking at Jon, waiting for the punch to be thrown. And if Cael does so before trying to cross her arms again, the wings will still follow her motions, though there's a lag on the left wing to follow that allows them to overlap in something like a shield formation.

    When the punch comes, Sam ducks to the side so that Jon's fist sails through the air over his right shoulder, left arm crossing over his body to block while his right immobilizes Jon's other arm to keep him from attempting a cross attack. He abruptly stops Jon's forward momentum rather than controlling it, because there's no need to be throwing Jon into the dirt this early in the morning.

    "I'm going to book you in with one of the physical trainers on staff to start you on strength training. Your form's good, but you're going to be limited on what you can do. Gotta get some oomph behind your hits."

    Cael doesn't get to play with the wings much longer. After he runs Jon through a few very basic hand to hand moves, he pits Cael against him. It's good training for both of them: Cael, who has more skill but is weighed down by the Falcon gear so she's thrown off-balance so that they're on slightly more even playing grounds. And Sam continues to not be a drill instructor, here; sure, they're both going to be sweating and panting by the end of the sparring session, but Sam provides for plenty of breaks--more water bottles out of his duffel--and doesn't push them so hard that they're not going to be able to function the rest of the day. It's still early morning, after all.

    "Good work," he says, after providing them both towels to wipe off with. No good letting sweat dry on the skin when it's cold out. "Really gave me a clear picture on where we need to focus on, too. Now we just need to get ourselves into a routine." He looks Cael up and down to gauge her level of exhaustion, before he tips his head. "Wanna fire the wings up once before we wrap?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael smirks in amusement at the small display of magical power - often a small nod of acknowlegement. "Like I said - just a force of habit." It still felt wrong to accept these things.
    She follows Sam's instructions - letting out a "ha!" of amusement as she crosses her arms, and the wings make a shield in front of her. "Not bad. Not bad at all." She lowers her arms, though, so she can watching some of the instruction between Sam and Jon, trying to gauge for herself Jon's level of skill.
    She hadn't expected to be asked to spar - though in hindsight, she sees that she should have. The weight of the wings does throw her off balance more than once - of course, she also uses them to block a punch or two as well - much to the regret of Jon's knuckles, no doubt. By the time they call the final stop, she's tired - certainly. But not entirely exhausted. Indeed - the eager flush of chemicals filling her system at Sam's suggestion washes away any sluggish feelings she may have had. "Yeah? Sure," she agrees, pulling up the wrist-mounted display to do that - finger hovering over the command as she waits for a confirmation from Sam that she can.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon is a good sport about the fact that even if he's got /very/ basic self-defense training that's not going to hold up against military and FBI hand-to-hand. And there's something notable, too--Jon's knuckles scrape against the wings, and they /definitely/ lose some skin and even bleed a little, but by the time they're done the damage is... well... /was/ he bleeding? Really?

    He's more exhausted than Cael by the time they're done, though there's that gleam of adrenaline and endorphines as he goes to sit down. He watches Cael curiously while he catches his breath.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    "Redwing, activate subroutine juniors_first_flight.exe," Sam says, and he's definitely grinning as he spells that all out--the underscores, the dot-E-X-E, all said with a grin. Just below Cael's finger, the button fills in, ready to be tapped.

    And when Cael does so, she'll feel the hum of the engines against her back as they begin to spin up, though on her HUD is a projected 'ceiling' that's probably less than ten feet above her head. She's got the training wheels on, but she'll at least be able to hover.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Junior's first- "God damn you, Sam Wilson," Cael mutters - but even as she's rolling her eyes, she presses the button. There's a giddy little laugh as she feels her feet leaving contact with the ground, as she extends the wings out. First she simply tries moving her arms by small degrees, seeing how that changes her orientation, if at all. She then tries shifting her weight - leaning first to one side, then another. She learns how to stear her hovering by slow, careful experimentation. Leaning forward, she finds, seems to give her the ability to start actually flying the thing - albeit at a low height. It's also what causes her to lose control and finally re-connect with Earth's gravity and the ground - and it'll definitely leave a few bruises.
    She doesn't seem to mind, though, because she lays there for a moment, simply laughing. What she finally manages, though, is "How was that?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon just... watches, wide eyed, grinning broadly. Cael's enthusiasm is infectous, and anyway, look, flying is /cool/ even if he's not doing it himself. He idly wipes himself down with the provided towel while he watches.

    His expression grows concerned at the crash and he jumps to his feet almost on instinct. "Agent Becker, are you--" Oh. Oh, she's laughing.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam presses a fist against his mouth to hold in laughter, but his shoulders are shaking with the effort. Are there tears in his eyes? Maybe. He stands by where Jon is sat, hands ending up on his hips, and he's obviously pleased. With the progress his two trainees have already started to show, small as it might be. With the knowledge that it's been a morning well spent. With the shared glee of seeing Cael's exuberance.

    The wings are responsive to every little movement, like a video game controller when the sensitivity is set just the tiniest bit too high. But that's also what makes Sam so agile in flight, that responsiveness. It's also how Cael finds herself making a reacquaintance with Mother Earth, painfully by the looks of it.

    Though Sam doesn't jog over immediately. First he offers Jon a pat on the shoulder at his quick response, and then that's when he heads over to Cael. He bends over to look at her. "Nice moves, Falcon Jr." He's laughing again as he holds out a hand to haul her to her feet.

    "Hit the showers, agents. I'll get a proper training schedule figured out for both of you and fill in the paperwork." As he talks, Sam starts gathering up things--leave nature better than you found it--and gestures for Cael to start packing the gear back into its container. "And make sure to hit up the cafeteria! You need protein and carbs after all that. Treat yourself! Word from Jenny is that they've got migas on the menu today."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I hope you saw that," Cael murmurs under her breath - seeming to address no one in particular, since Sam was still inbound towards her, and too far away to properly overhear the remark.
    Once he's standing over her, though... "Oh, fuck you," she replies to being addressed as 'Falcon Jr.' - but she accepts the hand up, moving towards the case with only a hint of her discomfort showing. Crashing hurt, but bruises heal. She runs through the shut down procedure, carefully and slowly, before she'll start removing each piece and packing it away. Only once she's done with that, does she turn towards her friend and offer him a nod. "Sam... thanks."
    Walking off with Jon towards the Triskelion, she's silent for a few moments before remarking simply, "So - were you serious? About that offer, before?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon nods to Sam. "It's been a while since I had migas. Good choice." He knows about protein for building muscle and the like. He /may/ have augmented his own medical knowledge with a late-night deep dive into conditioning and the like. Maybe.

    As he follows Cael toward the Triskelion, he nods. "I was indeed. I wouldn't have made it if I wasn't."

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam watches the pair walk off, and then with a solid sense of satisfaction set in place, he's hauls things into the Triskelion and gets to work on all of his other responsibilities on the docket for the rest of his day.