Summary:A new spider gets an entry evaluation at SHIELD. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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After the initial introduction to the young woman at the reception area, Miles was taken to the back of the facility. There was information to be filled out and taken care of - but for the most part, Miles keeps mainly to himself. And keeps his identity to himself. Finally, after some orientation and paperwork and a brief fitting, the doors to the gym open.
Stepping into the gym, Miles has been taken out of the street uniform. He's dressed in what would be the sleek black bodysuit of most SHIELD agents, but he's doctored it up a little. He's wearing a pair of sweats on his bottom, cut off at the knees, though his legs and feet are covered. A hoodie covers the top, though the look is a lot like an urban Spider-Man. "Alright," the instructor is explaining to Miles as he leads him to a training mat. "We're going to deal a skills assessment on your hand to hand capabilities. We're going to start you with one of your classmates to see how well you can handle it."
Helena was quick to volunteer for something other than desk duty. And it probably doesn't hurt that she's been at the top of the class when it comes to combat training so far, spending extra time helping some of her classmates through the process.
She watches him closely as she steps up to the edge of the mat, settling into a loose, ready stance. "Spider-Man fan?" she asks, taking note of the costume similarities.
There's a dry chuckle as Helena points out the similarity. "Something like that. More like this was the slickest thing that SHIELD had that would still keep my identity to myself. But sure.." he could be smiling underneath the mask as he considers her for a moment. "So yeah. I guess we're supposed to practice."
"Don't worry." the instructor prompts. "She's got the top scores in the class.."
"Really?" Miles says, turning to the instructor, leaving himself momentarily open to Helena. "I mean, I guess…" Probably a worry. Or an underestimation.
It's tempting to just dart in and put him down. For half a second. But Helena doesn't need to make that point. She's here for his skills assessment, not hers. And she knows a thing or two about spider-sense, which helps.
"Just don't throw me past the mats and we'll be good," she assures with a small smirk, taking another step toward him and making a beckoning gesture with one hand. "It's cool, come on."
After some hemming and hawing, Miles considers and then okays. Turning his attention back to Helena, the young man stretches and then sizes Helena up. "Alright, let's start the tutorial." he tells himself - not really aimed at her. More like he's considering this level one of it all. Learning what he can do, and what he can take.
With his approach, he makes a reach towards Helena. He's telegraphing. Oh god is he ever telegraphing. He hasn't had the practice, the training. He's not even had much of the field experience of the OG Spider-Man.
This is not Helena's first rodeo when it comes to breaking in a new trainee. She sees the reach coming from a mile away, sidestepping and reaching out to push his arm away with a flat palm. There's a slight twist to the push, just enough to unbalance him and make it clear that she could do more, but she leaves it at that for the moment. Two more steps take her past and behind him, ready for the next attack.
Helena's sudden reaction and defense catch Miles off-guard and he's pushed to the side. There's a stumble-step, and the young man gives a laugh. "Okay, so I totally unestimated that.." he admits with a shake of his head. Though as she's continuing past him, Miles is already turning, reaching to grab out for the back of the young woman's shirt to tug her backwards as he is twisting around.
"How long have you been in SHIELD?" he asks her because well, he's talking. Of course, he's not the first one to talk while in the middle of combat.
"Academy," Helena clarifies, reaching back to bring an arm down over his and break his grip, following up with a low kick at the side of his knee where his weight rests. "About a month."
She doesn't even sound like she's trying hard. Every motion is neatly controlled, measured. Even when there's an opening, she gives him that extra half a second to make his next decision.
She'll recognize it. Much like with Peter, when she's moving on Miles, he's anticipating. What she may not realize or will catch on quickly is that Miles is /anticipating/. It's not just a recognition, it's almost a precog reaction to her movement - reaction time is off the chart Miles leaps slightly, tucking in his legs to avoid the kick, twisting aside as he moves against Helena's own center of balance, actually using her to center himslef.
Landing again, he's releasing Helena as he bounces onto the mat and takes a tumble to come back to his feet and reaches to try to grapple her. Same trick, different angle. He's going to need work. A lot of it. It's one thing to have the speed and reflexes, but he doesn't have the underlying training set yet.
A night of sleeping like the proverbial dead has left the Captain more bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (though thank god, not the latter at the moment) upon arrival to the Triskelion. Sure, it's Sunday, but he accidentally left a manila folder at his desk he'd been meaning to bring home and review with Agent Barnes. As such, he's on campus and in the area when word filters through that Helena's aiding in testing a new recruit.
Given Steve is her god-father, it's natural he'd poke his head in to see how the young woman's doing as well as subtly assess the new recruit himself.
No pressure.
In dark jeans and combat boots beneath a zip-up sweatshirt in Army-green, he looks more the part civilian than agent, but then again, he's not technically at work.
Still, that's Senior Agent Steve Rogers walking into the gym and over to the instructor. He shakes hands with the individual and speaks to him sotto-voce, leaning in a little closer to hear the responses — all the while, his sharp true-blues watch the combatants.
Helena is balanced enough that she stays steady against his pull, coming down to a three-point stance even as he's tumbling his way across the mats. A faint smile quirks as she watches him, running the numbers in her mind. Faster than Peter. Interesting.
"You ever hit anyone on purpose, or just accidentally push them across the street when they try to hit you?" she asks, smile flashing to a grin for just a moment. There's a little bit of teasing to it, but there's also a genuine note to it.
Caught off guard by Helena's question, Miles considers it. Seriously. "Usually punching is saved for you know.. people with names like Octopus or Vulture.. why is it all the villains I face have animal names anyway? You'd think they're come up with something cooler. Like RageMachineXXX79 or something." he starts to say, when he notices someone talking to the instructor.
Okay, not just someone.
"Holy snowballs, is that Captain America? That's Captain America!" Helena may be forgotten for just a moment with the superhero in the house. Training? What is this training you speak of?
Shifting the manila folder beneath his opposite arm in an idle fidget, Steve is busy talking with the instructor during most of the combatant's most recent exchange. He's gesturing with his hands before his chest, perhaps suggesting a way to make things more interesting — complicated — real world? — for the young recruits — yes, he'll speak with Agent Barnes for more suggestions.
Hearing his title, however, makes Steve glance over and smile mostly to himself. "Jig's up," he mutters to the instructor, who coughs a laugh.
"G'morning, Miss Wayne." Manners affected bely the fond smile lingering around the super-soldier's eyes. "Who're we testing today then?" he asks as he walks over to pause at the edge of the mat. "Don't let me keep you overmuch, 'm just here to tie up loose ends."
The manila folder still tucked to his ribs is given a taptap with his opposing hand.
"Agent Rogers," Helena responds in kind, though she doesn't actually look at him. Still, there's a grin for the captain. But she's testing Miles, which means she's keeping an eye on him. "I don't think anyone under the age of forty thinks RageMachinXXX79 is a cool name," she points out, laughing briefly. "And if you don't practice hitting things in general, you're going to have a lot harder time hitting the Vultures and Octopi of the world."
This time, she steps forward the press the attack, moving quickly. Time to test those reflexes. Open palm to the side of the head, elbow strike toward the chin, knee to the side, foot coming down at his instep. None of them are full force - if they hit, they're not going to do much more than sting - but she's trying to see how much he can take at once, and what kind of reactions he has.
"Hey, at least it isn't like Criminal420sixninesixninelawl." Miles starts to respond, and then Helena's going on the attack, and the eye lenses widen as he starts to defend - clumsily. She's starting to land blows, catching him off-guard with every third punch. It seems that Miles is totally going to get his butt kicked at this point. "Hey hey, cut it with the cheat mode there!" he gives a grunt. And then there's a punch to his middle and Miles reacts.
His hand goes palm flat to Helena's solar plexus and instead of grabbing her, there's a sudden surge of electricity straight into the woman. It's like getting hit with a taser. Steve will recognize it as one of the bio blasts that Jessica Drew is capable of.
But Helena isn't exactly insulated for it as he would usually be.
Lingering at the edge of the mat, Steve falls quiet. Only the mild narrowing of his eyes and keen attention gives away how he's processing the moves he sees on display as well as attempting to predict how each combatant will react next — that, and picking up any novel twists on known attacks in order to bring against his next sparring partner.
His eyebrows lift as he sees a recognizable gambit in the electrical attack. That might sting a little.
Helena isn't insulated as Helena would usually be. This is why her suit is insulated, JESUS CHRIST, it's always the super-people.
The blast throws her back a pace, but even as she lands on the mat, she's reflexively twisting and tumbling back to that three-point stance, her other hand reaching to her belt for…something that isn't there.
She gives her head a shake, grin flashing with a laugh. "All right, that's a good trick," she concedes, though she doesn't seem like she's in a hurry to straightne up. Possibly because her fingers are still tingling.
"Oh CRAP." Miles didn't mean to. That much is totally obvious, as he's dropped the pretense of the spar as he's running over to where she is and looking concerned. "I forget I do that, and it's like a total defense thing and I don't exactly…" And as embarassed as he is at the whole idea of not only shocking Helena, but doing it in front of Captain /Freaking/ America, and it's like the most uncool thing he could do because he totally Blanka'd Helena's Cammy.
And in his embarassement, another of Miles' powers comes into play as he just fades out, becoming completely invisible to everyone in the room, the young man still yammering as he's still next to the woman. "Do we need to get you to the medic? I can totally yell for a medic. Someone can yell for a medic. Do you need a medic?"
It is, in fact, possible for those wheat-gold brows to lift even higher. By the subtle tuck of Steve's chin, there's some minor calculating going on before his expression returns to the same detachment shown by the nearby instructor.
"Dunno that we need a medic, but I wonder about whether or not you could be spotted infrared with a power like that," the Captain comments to Miles in particular. He doesn't step onto the mat or offer Helena a hand, but not because that would be interfering or he's lost track of politesse: as her god-father, the Captain knows her strength.
"It's good," Helena assures Miles, waving a hand, though she does let herself fall back into a cross-legged seat on the mat, settling two fingers on her wrist to check her pulse. She doesn't say it's not the first time and probably won't be the last, but she treats it that way.
As Miles fades from view, she quirks a brow, releasing her wrist to reach out and poke at where he was. "Is that another total defense thing you don't entirely do on purpose?"
"Spot what?" Miles asks in confusion. And then he hears Helena's comment and though they can't see it, his hand goes to his face. "I'm invisible again." he realizes, standing there. "Okay, have to calm down.. calm down, and just think about being seen.." he's repeating that to himself like a mantra.
And quite possibly humming to himself. "Just gimmie a few moments.. I don't exactly know what the off-switch is yet."
One dimple almost shows. Almost.
"It's a trick." There's another subtle round of consideration to flash through Steve's eyes as he continues watching the roughly immediate area where he last saw Miles standing, before the young man simply appeared to fade out of existence.
"Don't have any suggestions for you other'n breathe and see if you can't slow your heart-rate. Maybe match it up to a song you know well. Works for me now 'nd then," the Captain shares as he shifts his weight, adjusting the manila folder tucked beneath his armpit. Both hands are slung by his thumbs in his jean pockets now. It's about as nonchalant as Steve can appear, given he knows his presence might be cause for some nerves.
"Try some slow-" Helena says at right about the same time as Steve suggests breathing, shooting a rueful smile back at the captain. While Miles works on going back to visible, she gives her hands a shake, trying to make the tingling stop.
"Hey, side-note, do you have a name or something?" she asks. Maybe distracting him from the bio-shock will help too.
"I do. But you know.. not a /name/." Miles makes the distinction between the name when he's wearing a mask and when he isn't. And he's not exactly given that latter name - even after Carol and Natasha brought him in after their battle with the snakes.
"So, yeah. That's something to work on, since I'm pretty sure that using Spider-Man would get me sued or you know, cause confusion. Or at least ruin the merchandising rights he has, right?" Miles responds as he finally starts to fade back in now that he's no longer in freaked out mode.
Helena gets a small nod for her glance over at her god-father. His attention returns to Miles. Ah, there: the young man begins to come into view again. Inside his jean pocket, his phone goes off with a text alert. Steve pulls it out and glances down at it. A scoffing laugh jounces his chest even as he slides the phone back away again.
"Your uncle knows I'm lingering," he explains to Helena. Miles is given a professional smile.
"Becoming invisible's a nifty trick, but a tip for you: stay airborn as much as you can. Your weight still distributes across the mat's surface. See the little ripple?" He nods down towards Miles's semi-transparent feet where the fabric has gathered just the slightest around the soles of his shoes. "She'd've pegged you. Stick to the walls 'nd nobody's gonna see you coming, not even the sharpest of us."
With the accolades given, the Captain then excuses himself from the gym at a measured pace decidedly…leisurely. It's probably because Agent Barnes demanded he stop dragging his heels at work. What cheek.
"Tell him I said hi," Helena calls after Steve. "Oh, and thanks for the tip on the trigger mechanism. Shaved two seconds off my time." She turns back to Miles then, watching him slowly fade back into view.
"Pretty sure Spider-Man hasn't cracked the merchandising business yet, but there are definitely a lot of spider-people out there," she agrees, rueful. "But, uh. Regardless, this whole thing works better if people have something to call you, so. Might want to make that choice before someone makes a terrible one for you."
"I'll put it up there with a costume. Because I don't have one of those either." Miles gives a little chuckle, looking down at his feet and the dimples in the mat. Oh. "Right. Airborne." There's a firm nod of his head at the information provided by Steve. Don't ask for an autograph, wait. "You're his /niece?!" Miles stammers at Helena, staring wide-lensed at the young woman.
It's one thing to zap Helena in front of Captain /Freaking/ America, it's another to zap her in front of /UNCLE/ Captain /Freaking/ America. The young man is flabbergasted, staring at Helena, to Steve, then back to Helena again.
"He's my godfather," Helena clarifies, offering over a hand. "I'm Helena," she introduces herself. "Wayne. And if you're looking for input on costumes, I do a bit of dabbling in wearable tech. I might be able to help out some." She reaches over to flick a finger at the hoodie. "You stick with this and someone's going to dub you the Hood Rat and you'll never shake it."
Still. Godfather. She's got connections. He hasn't quiet made the connection between her last name and you know, super rich family. She could be related to Lil'Wayne for all he knows. Then she's point out the hoodie as she flicks it. "Hey, it's a fashion choice. I totally could be a hood rat under here." he points out to her. "Though have you ever seen a hood rat climb up walls?"
Then he adds, "Though there's that rat that steals pizza crusts and stuff. So who knows." Shaking his head, he turns his attention to her again, his voice is showing concern. "…you're alright though? So didn't mean to zap you."
"Rats are terrifying, and can totally climb walls," Helena points out, grin flashing. "But not the image you usually want to inspire with heroics." At his question, she glances down at her shirt, then pulls out the collar to take a look at her skin before nodding. "Yeah, I'm good," she assures.
"Zap's a good trick. So's the going invisible. Better if you can control them," she points out. "But once you can, that'll be super useful. You're just…gonna need to work on your actual fight training."
"I've only had these powers for a couple of months. It's not like they came with an instruction manual. Or you know.. fight training, outside of button mashing in Street Fighter." Miles admits with a chuckle. When she pulls her collar, he politely /looks/ away. Because yeah, not trying to be curious if she's hurt.
The instructor makes some notes and sighs. "That's enough for now. We'll get you some beginner classes for hand to hand combat." he offers to Miles, then nods to Helena. "Thank you for your help." he offers to the young woman.
"Any time, sir," Helena nods to the instructor, pushing up from the mat now that the tingling has stopped. Mostly. She offers a hand down to Miles once she's standing. No hard feelings here. "On the up side," she grins, "At least you're not out there trying to figure it out for yourself and getting yourself hurt. So that's been a smart call."
"Oh, I was." Miles admits as he accepts the hand for a shake. "And then I came across Captain Marvel and Black Widow. Kinda got my butt kicked, and Black Widow suggested that I come back here. By suggested, I passed out, and they brought me back here to see about trying to fit in. So. Here I am." he admits with a small chuckle. "Anyway. Looks like we're going to be training buddies."
Helena's brows rise at the story. Interesting. "Huh. Well, if you're going to be sticking around, I look forward to working with you. But, uh…" She pauses, lips pursing a bit as she looks him over. "If you're planning on taking the whole course load, the mask thing is probably not a long-term solution. Your call," she adds, raising her hands palms-out. "But long-term sustainability, you're likely to end up with things coming out."
"Yeah. Well. I don't do that on a first date." Miles says teasingly as he steps off the mat and gives a little shoulder roll and the smile is obvious there as he glances back towards her. "I'll just be your mysterious visitor for now. At least until I can decide whether or not I trust ya." And with that, he's heading off on his way. "Nice to meet you, Miss Wayne."
"You too, Hood Rat," Helena waves after him, grin flashing. Oh yeah. That's gonna stick. For now, at least. Only once he's gone does she rub at her chest where she got zapped. Owwwwwww.