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Well, that didn't go as planned. Still dressed in what Venus considered her normal clothes, having abandoned a few of her blades for the sake of looking like anything other than an agent, she wandered the grounds with her head obviously somewhere else.
She usually paid such close attention to everything, it was a surprise to see the woman distracted. She was even frowning, a deep set frown. Hmph.
It seems Venus wasn't the only one walking around with her thoughts elsewhere. Headphones on and hands in her pockets, Rebecca is also wandering the grounds for the sake of thinking and staying sane.
She's spaced enough not to notice the older woman, or to maybe assume she'd move, but either way, the two end up bumping into one another, complete with the younger agent jerking back in surprise as she bites back a curse.
"Sorry." Not really, but it feels like the right thing to say at the moment. She looks at the other woman, realizing it's someone she's not seen before.
Her frown turned to a sneer the moment she touched somebody, and within the second it took for Becca to apologize, she had one of her knives in her hand, her body in a cat like stance, ready to defend herself.
Green eyes flashed in anger for just a moment, before she saw the girl... another agent. She bit back her response and straightened herself, posture rigid. Of course.
The fact that she hadn't been paying attention bothered her. She was too comfortable on Paradigm grounds; hadn't she just threatened more than one kid for their lack of observation?
"Apology accepted, Agent," she said stiffly, that sneer melting back into her usual frown.
Jesus fuck, this woman was as bad as Arman. Rebecca takes a step back, hands up with their palms facing outward. She's not in the mood to fight today if she can help it, though she could do without the sneer.
"Yeah, great. I'll remember that the next time I have someone pulling a knife on me for no reason." Ah, there's her sarcasm, though her frown never leaves. Her brows furrow a moment later, her tone returning to normal.
She's got enough knives on that belt to rival Silas's toys. Yeesh.
"Do I get to start toting my gun when I'm a senior agent?" She doesn't intend to, nor the answer to be a yes. But dang this lady is twitchy.
A brow twitched over one glassy eye and she glanced from the girl to her knife. Deep breath. She straightened herself a little more before replacing the knife in her belt. They were once more covered by the oversized coat, hiding them from view.
She didn't immediately respond to the question, but instead, focused on the statement she had made.
"Be glad it wasn't more than a threat, Agent. I am not known for giving more than one."
Still, with her hands free, she seemed to calm a little more. She tried to untie the knots that had formed in her shoulders. "What is your name?"
Yeah, screw that. Becca's not giving up her name that easily. Her frown deepens at the warning.
"So you don't give more than one threat to someone you bumped into? On campus? With no actual threat other than maybe getting a few wrinkles in your clothes?"
Fucking arrogant little pricks. She was so tired of children. No wonder she usually stayed out on the field.
She took a slow, deep breath.
Perhaps she could have worded things differently, but she was angry, and she was only getting angrier.
"I normally don't give any threats or warnings at all, agent," she said slowly, words chosen carefully.
"Obviously, we're both in bad moods. Obviously, this conversation isn't going to lead to anything good. So let's both agree to stop the animosity here before somebody gets hurt." Or killed.
Rebecca's expression slowly shifts to something closer to neutral once the other agent starts talking. While the woman is her superior, so is Matt, and look how long that took for her to give him a bit of wiggle room and respect.
Not that she wouldn't tell him off again if he needed it.
Still, Rebecca straights and lets out a slow, deep breath before nodding.
"Alright. Mine for yours then, Agent...?" Oh, she better get an answer, or this animosity thing is back on again.
She had just been about to bring the animosity back when Rebecca gave her name. The coldness in her eyes didn't melt away. Instead, she stood stiffly, not offering her hand.
"Considering the gaggle of students Jack has brought here, I don't doubt that one bit," she muttered, mostly to herself. But she gave nothing else away; only contempt. Sometimes, she could be a real peach. This was not one of those times.
She crossed her arms under the curve of her chest and looked Becca over. Considering the cold, it wasn't odd for somebody to be completely bundled up, so she wasn't able to figure out her power.
The weather is something Rebecca is used to using as an excuse, so she accepts the lack of question about her power with some grace. Either the woman knows already since she's an intelligence specialist, or she's more interested in other things.
"Why assume the Director is the one who brought us here?" She seems amused, especially since Nicky already mentioned being the one to have given her the opportunity to be here. If there's another Jack, she's not heard of them or met them, and the type of authority Venus mentioned sounds like something for the higher ups.
"As for the gun, why not?" She tilts her head to the side. "Not everyone has powers that are useful for offense, or in certain situations." She obviously doesn't have to tell Venus that agents are able to use weapons without relying on their powers.
The girl seemed almost smug, and while that smugness made her a little twitchy, they had agreed to stay civil. She had far too much practice in staying civil, in playing politics. Crossing her arms, she assumed what could be considered a relaxed posture by the less aware.
"Jack is Director here," she stated simply. "His word is final. Whether somebody else cherry picks the ones to await approval, he is the one who has final say."
The lie came easily. After all, he technically did, even though his surprise at her arrival told her just how little attention he paid his paperwork.
"Also. There is a problem with guns." She offered her usual predatory smile, eyes flashing slightly. "21 feet."
« Last Edit: Dec 16, 2015 11:11:51 GMT -6 by Venus Campbell »
Rebecca bites back a chuckle and shakes her head, but Venus can still hear the sound somewhat.
"Trust me, Agent Campbell, no one 'cherry-picked' me." Amtrum's words come to mind. Determined, yes, but neither the brightest nor most talented. She doesn't bother deluding herself into thinking otherwise. Let that be someone else's downfall.
"Well yeah, I mean there's also the fact that robots are made of metal, and other things. Especially for a pistol. It'll suck if and when I'm ever alone." She's more for if, but with Rebecca's luck, you can't blame her for expecting the worst to happen to her. She shrugs again, a thoughtful frown showing through.
"Either way, I have to get creative for the twenty-two feet mark and after. Not to mention everything else. It helps, but it's not my crutch."
She cocked a challenging brow at Rebecca's response, specifically in reference to the feet between each person. Did she think that she was talking about the gun? About aim? Getting creative after 22 feet...
She must not realize what Venus was talking about, and that was fine. She just kept her little smirk in place and waited.
"Of course, there's the fact that you have your own range limit."
Yeah, she missed the reference since they were just talking about the gun, but Rebecca didn't forget that Venus had a belt full of knives under that coat.
"But I'm sure you have your own ways of handling that."
Venus gets a couple Becca points for making her work for it! The teen frowns, regarding the senior agent with a thoughtful and still suspicious expression. Then, after a few moments, she grins.
"Well, I know it's not my gun's range. My trainer made sure I knew exactly what to expect with the tools I use from the start. So if you're going to disagree on that, I'll sit back and watch you talk it out with Mr. Amtrum." Which would be hilarious and you know it.
"So that leaves you." She nods towards where she saw the belt of knives when Venus had opened her coat for a moment.
"Despite being 'civilized,' you've yet to talk to me about anything that doesn't involve using your them, veiled or otherwise. Or fondle them. But that's only the ones on your belt, right?" She's assuming there's more of them.
At the name of her trainer, there was the briefest break in her otherwise perfect facade. Her teeth meshed together tightly behind her smile and a brow twitched over one eye. It was only a moment before she seemed to sink back to normal, and most would be oblivious to any change at all.
Damn him.
"You're correct in assuming I have more than the obvious," she said, fingers running delicately over the cloth that hid her poisoned blades from sight. "But your answer isn't specific. What range? My throwing range?"
More thinking. Yay. At least it's a distraction from her personal drama, for which Becca's grateful enough to keep going without putting up a fuss. She notices the brow twitch more than anything else in the other woman's expression, but considering it's Mathew, she doesn't think much on it. It seems to be a fairly normal reaction. Sort of.
"No." More frowning. She'd probably have gotten closer to the answer Venus was after if she'd mentioned an amount of time rather than distance.
"I don't know. Probably something to do with the difference between a gun and knife." Considering how they'd first bumped into one another.
She nodded and took a few steps back, widening the distance between them. They were about ten feet apart, then.
In an effort to give her a hint, because she WAS struggling and that won her quite a few points in as far as Venus was concerned, she drew the least deadly knife she had on her belt: Greed. In the sunlight, there was the soft coloring of a forest green in the crevices of the blade.
"How fast can you draw your gun from its holster? Hypothetically." Another few steps back. Thirteen feet.