Owner Pose
Phobos     There are any number of elaborate and advanced weapon systems on display at any given day in the Triskelion's testing center. Just a few doors from the R and D laboratory, close enough that the down time between test and adjustment is reasonably small. It can create some risky moments as it does create a strong back and forth rhythm, but all in all it's a net win for the researchers. Just often times the ones to pay the price...
    Are the poor slobs who have to do the testing.
    Thankfully today is not a Meson Cannon. Nor is it a focused energy device. Instead the item being tested and holding some prominence there on the firing range is nothing more elaborate than a stealth black crossbow with a laminated cross-guard and an elaborate aiming device that rides the center line. Beautiful in its simplicity, but with a hint of foreboding it's been put through its paces by the Agents of Alpha Squad for the 1st Tactical Response Team. They've kept pace, executing the list of firing sequences they've been given successfully. Success has given way to confidence. And confidence... has led to conversation.
    "My uncle had one of these, for hunting pigs." Kelso comments idly as he brings the crossbow to his shoulder. The sights are adjusted as the tall and perhaps a touch husky man draws a bead on the target.
    "Your uncle. Had a state of the art techbow." O'Hara's dubious tone is unmistakable as she leans against the table nearby, awaiting her turn.
    "Not a techbow, but a thing not unlike this. Yes."
    Then there's a /THWOK!/ as the bow fires and the quarrel slams hard into the target some thirty feet down the line, a smidge above the bullseye.
    "This feels very Hawkeye." Nelson grouses as he pushes away from the wall, unfolding his arms. All four of them are dressed in the black combat gear SHIELD agents use out in the field, but Nelson's the only one right now sporting the full harness.
    "Nothing wrong with that," As finally Agent Aaron comments, looking up from his cellphone and then tucking it back into his rear hip pocket. "This would probably be good for stealth operations."
    "Probably," Says Kelso as he makes the walk to retrieve the bolt. "Just... there's gotta be a gimmick somewhere here."
    Which none of them know. So far.
Mockingbird "So what is your problem with being Hawkeye?" Bobbi stands squarely in the doorway. "He's better looking than you are." Straight faced, Bobbi saunters in with an air of innocence, glance moving to each of the men, the shooter and the two kibitzing with him.

"It would be good on stealth operations though they are hardly quiet. Have you all tried it?"
Phobos     To be fair, Nelson is not horrible to look at, his girlfriend likes him. He has this Freddie Prinze Jr. thing going on, but the comment that comes from the higher ranked agent causes a few chortles from the others even as Nelson bristles a little. "Agree to disagree, ma'am."
    O'Hara takes up the weapon and adjusts the grip. The red-headed agent looks over at her squaddies, then back to Agent Morse and smiles a little. "Pardon us, Agent Morse. You know how people talk at the later end of their shift." Which to some wouldn't excuse it, but she's offering that as an out for Nelson at least.
    "We've each taken our shots. It's quieter than an assault rifle, not as quiet as a hunting bow." Agent Aaron's usually the more reserved of the crew in Alpha Squad, usually watching and listening. During his training he'd gotten high marks, but always a few ticks out of first place. Nelson had that honor in their training.
    "We were wondering though, ma'am." Kelso's a good few inches taller than the other agents, but does have that sort of look like he could stand a few more hours in PT a day. "What's the gimmick for it. Why are we testing it?"
Mockingbird "Penetration," she replies, still straight faced though one side of her mouth twitches. Crossing to stand next to Kelso and O'Hara, "It's got great accuracy or so I was told. I don't need to tell you about how important that is. The techies say it can pierce armor. An armored car, kevlar. They should be setting up tests to measure how far it penetrates material and what its limits are." She nods to a row of targets deeper in the room.
Phobos     The answer gets the four squaddies to all give a sort of 'ohhh' look in response, a few nod in understanding while O'Hara gets a faint quirk at the corner of her mouth as well. Yet she doesn't voice whatever thought might be gracing her mind, spurred to life by Bobbi's words. Instead she murmurs, "Did they send you to take the gear back to R&D?"
    Only for Kelso to shake his head, "They wouldn't tap a level 7 just to fetch and carry." His smile is there and a little amused, but he gives a nod to Agent Morse as if to signal no harm is meant. "That's our job."
    Only for Agent Aaron to lift his voice from his place against the wall near to the firing line, pushing off from it and unfolding his arms as he asks. "Is this going to be part of your gear, Agent Morse?"
    Perhaps the first time she's met the twenty-something Agent. There had been scuttlebutt going around of late. A mission with Winter Soldier and the Black Widow that was taken off the books after some old Quinjets were acquired. There was rumor he had been shot at one point as some warning bells had gone up on his profile several weeks ago. And the fact that he caught the eye of Black Widow which has caused some gossip but none too egregious.
Mockingbird Amused, the senior agent doesn't answer the question, letting the squad mates talk it out among themselves. "I've fetched and carried in my time. But no, I'm not here to take away your toy."

Bobbi turns her head to look at the youngest agent and nods. She is well-aware of the scuttlebutt about him. Whether there is truth or not in it, she doesn't care until it affects his performance. So, many of the rumors that follow the Black Widow are wishful thinking.

"Let's say I'm considering it. I wouldn't mind a stealth weapon on par with what the techies are hoping this will be."

Taking a step toward the targets, four are lined up next to stacks of what is likely material to make more. "Want to see what it can do?" She walks over to one to examine it, running her hand over it and knocking it with her knuckles. There is a faint metallic ring. "Hmm, it looks like they are starting out with the metal testing first."
Phobos     "Please, by all means." Agent O'Hara smiles as she gestures toward the range, then steps back and away from the firing line. Not from any desire to be clear of a possible misfire since that's highly unlikely, but perhaps more likely due to showing some measure of deference to the higher-ranked agent.
    The others, however, take up a place behind and to the side of Agent Morse, their posture attentive and curious, but far from intrusive. Kelso asks then, "What sort of penetration are we looking at here as likely? The thing had a kick but it didn't... you know, feel like much of a kick. If that makes sense."
    Which has Nelson commenting sotto voce, "It doesn't."
    Which causes Kelso to counter with a quiet 'shush' as if not wanting to be hassled in front of Mockingbird.
Mockingbird "Go ahead, Agent O'Hara. You were up next, weren't you?" She gestures to the targets with a swoop of her hand, "I'd like to watch. I had heard there was a problem with recoil but have built in a system of dampeners. They seem to be working then, I take it?"
Phobos     "Yeah!" Kelso says, at first a little too animated, then he clears his throat and ahems into his hand. "I mean, yes, I noticed those." And then he sort of gives Nelson a wide-eyed look that says nothing but between them means, 'I told you so.'
    Nelson crinkles his nose, says nothing.
    But O'Hara steps up and takes the crossbow in hand, tucking it under one arm as she checks the tension, the ratchet, then brings it up to her shoulder to consider the sightline of the scope before she gives a nod. "Alright. Fire rotation fourteen, Agent O'Hara taking a shot at the designated target. Ready to fire in 3. 2. 1."
    She waits for the moment when she says that last number and the light at the end of the firing range changes from red to green. She fires and /THWONK!/ hits the metal target square. The weapon is lowered.
    "It does seem to have... something to it." Perhaps not having felt such tech before, herself.
    Then the intercom crackles to life, // That's enough Squad Alpha. Rotate out for meal break then head to the launch pads for cargo duty. You copy? //
    O'Hara lifts her voice, "Copy that."
    Which has those squaddies starting to gather to step away. Nelson gives a nod to Agent Morse, Kelso smiles to her, "Thanks for stopping by."
    Which earns him a nudge in the ribs from Nelson, though they don't bicker in front of her. Professionals after all.
    Agent Aaron gives a nod toward the crossbow, "Looks interesting. Let me know if you decide for it, Agent Morse. If you have the time." His tone is calm, neutral, as he starts to move toward the door along with the other squaddies.
Mockingbird Humor dancing in her eyes at Kelso's reply, Bobbi clears her throat and nods seriously, the slight twitch at the side of her mouth nearly becoming a smile. No need to embarrass the agents. It's not her goal. There is genuine interest on her part on just how well the tech personnel have tuned the weapon.

"That was only one inch of hardened steel..." The rest of her observation is cut-off by the intercom announcement.

"Anytime, Kelso when a weapon is concerned." Innocence pours off of the senior agent as she watches the not so subtle by-play between he and his teammates.

Something simmers below the so careful neutrality of Aaron's attitude. Morse studies him a moment but makes no comment. "Have a good lunch," she wishes them, eager to have a try with the bow.
Phobos     The squad files out of the range and into the hallway, their footsteps easy. SHIELD always goes a long way to create that feeling of teamwork and camaraderie between the agents. But with the response teams they tend to go one further. Their duties are always shared, their shifts are always linked, and rarely do they go on assignment without the others. Or at least one of the others. But then sometimes needs must when the devil drives.
    "I think she liked me." Kelso says pleasantly as he walks, the other squad members walking along casually.
    "Pfft." Is Nelson's succinct response.
    "I don't mean anything more than as colleagues. I think she recognized my 'can do' attitude."
    "Uh huh." It was Alexander's turn this time, though his sidelong glance given towards Kelso held a warm smile.
    "It's true, I grow on people." The tall squad member nods as he walks.
    Only for Nelson to reply, "Like fungus."
    Which leads to a moderate /shove/ though nothing like the rough-housing the two would get into during training.
    "Still." Says O'Hara as she grabs her cell out of her jacket pocket and peers at it, then swipes it back to hibernation before putting it away. "She seemed personable."
    "Best spies do." Agent Aaron offers for his point of view.
    "Alright, heli-deck. Who all is coming?" Nelson turns around to walk backwards in front of the others.
    "Me and Kelso, we're scheduled. Aaron you've got lunch and then the inventory pull?"
    A low grumble is heard from the young Olympian but he nods, "Yeah, down on sub level fifteen. Not fun but... what can you do?"
    "Alright, we'll catch up with you after."
    "Roger that," Are the last couple words he gives before the others start to head their own way. Which gives him at least some time to wander down toward the cafeteria. To grab a tray and get into line, grab his sandwich, his bag of chips... and settle down at the end of one of the long long tables there in the food court.
Mockingbird The special part of the range to herself, Bobbi take up the weapon left on its rack and examines it. Hefting it, she brings it up to firing position several times before cueing the next target.

"Fire rotation fifteen," she announces, glancing down at the mark then bringing the weapon up in a smooth sweep, fitting the scope to her eye with a minute adjustment. She breathes deeply and exhales as she presses the trigger mechanism.

The projectile makes a deep sound as it penetrates the second metal target. Impressed, Bobbi racks the bow then jogs the distance to it. There is no automatic target retrieval system set up for targets this size. After fingering the metal from which the projectile protrudes, she whistles, long and low to herself then consults her watch.

"That will be all for today. Send someone to collect the weapon," she says to the agent in charge of the range and heads down the hall on the trail of the agents that had just left. First the cafeteria and then a meeting. She dislikes meetings.
Phobos     In the cafeteria it's off shift, only a handful fo agents are in the hall. Most are spread about the place with little rhyme nor reason to it. Across the way is Agent Kowalski, she's studying one of the many field manuals that the agency prints, likely looking up something about a piece of equipment. And there is Agent Johns, looking down at his phone and thumbing through messages most likely.
    But then there's that Agent Aaron she saw at the range. He did have that reserved manner, kept to himself for the most part. That was one of the things his instructors marked him for, for the longest time they had a hard time finding an angle to pry at him in their attempts to go for that psychological break down that most recruits have to endure in boot camp. Eventually they got something out of him about a prepper father. He seemed embarrassed about that. Still.
    When she passes near he lifts his head and then a hand in greeting, "Agent Morse." Nothing more said, likely presuming she has her own business to attend to.
Mockingbird In the safety of the cafeteria, Bobbi relaxes, moving down the aisle between the tables with her tray in hand, on automatic, lost in thought. Aaron's voice arrests her steps, she stops and nods pleasantly, still distracted.

"Agent Aaron," she returns the greeting ready to move on then reconsiders. She tacks a question mark on to her greeting with the lift of an eyebrow and a slight shift of her head.
Phobos     His own eyebrows rise and in response he uncurls a hand gesturing to the circular seat opposite him and shakes his head as if to say he didn't mind at all. But he does straighten up a little, draws his tray closer to him and puts his drink onto it as if she needed all that more room. All part of that mild hint of deference people give to others of higher rank, whether it's social or otherwise.
    "What's the verdict on the crossbow?" He asks with a casual curiousity, that hint of it there in the lilt at the end of the word 'crossbow' though he might just be making polite conversation. "I always thought the fire rate on such a thing might be an issue down the line."
Mockingbird Bobbi is not easy to read, one of skills she brings to interrogations. The only tell is a quick blink before she aligns her tray with his and pulls out the chair. Once settled, she give the young agent the curtesy of her attention, leaving her food alone. She accepts the question, pursing her lips a moment, "I can't say yet. It certainly looks good. I don't consider fire rate important for it. It's more of an assassin's weapon, don't you think? Unless we return to the Battle of Agincourt..." This last said with a half-smile, acknowledging the mild tease in it, curious to see how he will rally with the ball.
Phobos     The young man's head bobs a little. He's still at ease, no hint of stress nor trepidation. A rarity in Level 1 Agents sitting with Level 7s. That had been the notation in the back of his folder repeatedly during testing. Cool-headed, low anxiety. Some even declared that he might be too withdrawn to make a strong field agent considering that he didn't seem to have fire at times. But then again he never failed the tests put before him.
    "I could see that. Situations where fire rate matters little. Singular targets or small numbers." Then his head tilts to the side slightly, "Or a situation where you can isolate them in low numbers."
    But then his lip twists a little, "Agincourt though was longbows. Now those are much harder to hide in your kit." Considering the things were pretty huge and tall.
Mockingbird "Yes, it was longbows. Not many would have caught that." His remark earns a nod and a near smile. She looks down at her food then gestures at his tray.

"Please go ahead." After a short pause, she continues, "You make a good point. It would make an unpleasant surprise. It has the advantage of not making a flash in the dark that can be traced back and bracketed easily. That with its silence will put it in the category of special weapons for specific targets, as you say."
Phobos     Taking her at her word, Alexander takes up his sandwich and draws it apart into its halves, then takes a bite from the side of one of them. He chews for a time, head tilted slightly to the side and those pale hazel eyes of his distant and thoughtful. He chews and chews, then quirks his brow as if having some inner dialogue with himself before he looks back to her.
    "Is there a tranquilizer ammunition powerful enough to get the same effect non-lethally? I was having a discussion with a colleague and they were under the impression there isn't. But I figured you might know."
Mockingbird While he starts in on his sandwich, Bobbi begins the large bowl of salad that she has put together for herself. Laying down the fork, she nods, pleased with the question, finishing her mouthful, "They are working on multiple delivery systems and that is a principle ones. Think ICER delivered in arrow form. With the power behind the bow, it just becomes another projectile delivery system albeit not as compact as a clip."
Phobos     The sandwich suffers another bite as the Level 1 Agent considers her words and nods, "If there's no loss in effectiveness no harm, though there's always the potential of recovery, depending on the duration of the narcotic. Can't imagine it's a positive outcome to be infiltrating and on the exfil having a bunch of groggy guards coming back online."
    Though at that he seems to consider as he chews on his sandwich a little more, looking thoughtful and reflective, but then giving a nod when he glances back. "Was there something you wished to discuss, Agent Morse? Not that I begrudge the company, just used to Level 7s operating in mysterious spooky ways."
    The way he says that, there's a hint of humor, perhaps even some self-deprecation.
Mockingbird Cheeky underling. One eyebrow lifts at his hint of humor. "Yes, we /do/ enjoy our mysterious ways. Always best to keep them guessing," she replies with a look of great seriousness. Will he catch the humor that glints underneath?

She takes another bite of salad, chewing reflectively before adding, "And here, I thought, I was being encouraging to our newer entry-level agents. No, nothing in particular." A pause. She sits straight, relaxed and patient. "Did you have something to say to me?"
Phobos     There's a moment when his lips part and he takes in a breath, then he closes it and seems to hover there on the edge of commenting. Until half a heartbeat later and he says, "I had read a few of the mission files, debriefs and all, where you were part of the operation and there were a fair amount."
    His head tilts to the side then and he gestures with his sandwich, "While I was perusing them, were there any particular ones that you felt someone should pay more attention to? Or any particular event you felt might give some insight into how you view the role of an agent?"
    It's clear he has given some thought to it, and perhaps it's a question not specifically for Bobby herself and perhaps something he's asked others as well in the past.
Mockingbird "I've been fortunate enough to have participated in a few SHIELD operations," she says without false modesty, watching Alex closely, more intent on measuring the young man. A near smile plays on her lips at the questions.

"Every mission is different. If you can't adapt then likely people will die and the mission goals are not met. Learn your target, plan and then plan some more and when the plans fall through adapt."

She shrugs with a smiling shake of her head before returning to her salad. "That likely wasn't what you wanted to hear."
Phobos     There's that easy-going manner of his, still looking thoughtful as he listens and continues chewing a little. Eventually he swallows and nods, then his gaze meets hers again and he murmurs, "Well. Doesn't matter what I /want/ to hear, ultimately." His lip curls up a little as he glances away, then looks back.
    "Matters more to gather your insight and incorporate it into mine, I imagine." Then his lips twist a little. "Or reject it entirely. Either/or."
    But perhaps before umbrage is taken he adds, "Though it's sentiment I've heard before from other people. Sooo." Indeed, even his father. A plan rarely survives contact with the enemy.
Mockingbird "So glad you approve," the senior agent replies dryly after swallowing. Aware of how biting she can be, she adds, "Good to see you taking in what the senior agents have to offer you. What do...other senior agents have to say on the subject?" She waits, neglecting her food, curious to see where he takes them.
Phobos     A tilt of his head is given as he looks straight at her, blinking once, then he murmurs. "Agent Barnes pointed me at some old mission briefs, I read them and they had a recurring theme in which inexperience led to critical points of possible failure. It was possibly some form of mild admonishment or critique but inexperience only has one relief and that takes time."
    He takes a sip of his drink through the straw, then sets it back down again precisely in the spot he picked it up from. Then another bite of sandwich is addressed before he continues.
    "Agent Romanoff told me that complex plans were good to address each possible moving element in a mission, but you should never let a plan hinder you in its execution. It's a tool to be used if fitting or discarded when it doesn't work."
    There's a thoughtful pause, "I haven't spoken to Agent Barton about it."
Mockingbird "They are both among the very best. Train and adapt. Know your target. Plan and then discard the plan when it clearly won't work." Bobbi forgets any distinction of rank between them in her enthusiasm for their work.

Sitting back, she observes him a moment before saying, "You have a reputation, already, for coolness under fire. That can be learned to a degree but the plain fact is that not everyone has that ability."
Phobos     The youth scrunches one eye up as he looks to the side, and then back as he murmurs. "And as something of a cold fish." Alexander says as he looks back toward her. "I grew up having it sort of drilled into me that there are times to be serious, and times to relax. And work is well..." The young Olympian looks around the room then back toward her.
    "Not a time to relax."
    There's a pause as he takes another sip from his soda, then seems to rethink his words and adds, "Mostly." As if it was important to add that qualifier. Likely meaning the friends he's made at SHIELD sometimes blur those lines.
Mockingbird With a tiny movement of her shoulder, the senior agent dismisses the cold fish comment. "You can't please everyone. Better a cold fish that backs me up then some comical clown that is too busy wisecracking to cover me."

Speaking obliquely to his last remark, "Teammates need to know each other. On and off the field, ideally. It helps knowing what your partner's blind points are or what could trigger their best or worst behavior. It's not something that happens automatically with a new team either."
Phobos     "Yeah," He says at first in agreement, but then there's a slight lift of his eyebrows as his thoughts drift in another direction as he laughs a little. Then he shakes his head and looks down at his food, pushing around some of the chips there on his plate before he looks back up at her, eyes narrowed slightly.
    "I um," He cocks his head to the side and she can likely see he's weighing things in his mind. The evidence she's presented. It's clear to him that she has perhaps read his folder, studied a little of his bio, or maybe just heard some of the scuttlebutt around the Triskelion.
    Which might be why he brings up the next topic.
    Although he does so in a round about way. "I was curious, about your thoughts. Since..." He pauses, as it's perhaps a touchy subject considering she had been involved/married with an agent of SHIELD for a good amount of time. She's perhaps the best sort of person to get that advice from.
    It's the asking that's difficult. The phrasing.
    "In the past there have been some prominent operatives involved with each other. Relationship-wise." He takes a breath, holds it, then says vaguely. "I was wondering what your thoughts were about that."
Mockingbird Bobbi excels at controlling her expressions. She lets herself look mildly interested, not taking umbrage at his reference to her personal life. Gossip flies through SHIELD on little hot wings.

"Well, you know that most organizations don't encourage it. Great distinctions in age, rank, background and culture can make for rocky relationships which can affect work. When none exist, it is up to the agents involved not to let it get in the way of how they operate in the field. Jealousies and backbiting are also lovely additions to the scene."

Now, she does shrug, mildly amused, "Personally, I don't care."
Phobos     "Yeah," Alexander says at first, perhaps more of a placeholder or to buy a touch of time while he gathers his thoughts. "Important to be professional, don't want to damage anyone's career." Roundabout words, and he nods as he offers them. The rest of his sandwich, what little remains of it, he slides to the side if only to bring his soda more to center stage. He rests his hands around its base and watches Bobbi with those curious and pale hazel eyes.
    "Though I imagine if you clear the air with those you work with regularly it can at least make it easier." There's a pause and then still without saying any names he inquires, "Though I imagine with the Avengers situation that must have been an added pressure."
    Still not specifically speaking about her relationship. More... talking around it.
Mockingbird "Everyone is different." She sits forward, saying in a low intent voice meant for him alone, "There are no rules. I'm enough of a romantic to believe that love will find a way. And, enough of a realist to know that that is not always the case. What the Avengers do, what SHIELD does takes its toll on couples whether they want it to or not."

Sitting back again, she gives a short laugh, "There is no way I'm going to talk about my personal life, agent. But, I wish you the best with yours."
Phobos     To his credit his head bobs a little then, though more at the end, "Probably wise." He says as he considers and answers with a slight tilt of his soda, as if hovering on the edge of taking a drink. Eventually he does decide to do so, sipping a bit and then setting it back down.
    A moment later he glances around the room and then twists a small smile, as if he'd be able to see what scanners and sensors they're using to monitor the place. Then he lifts his chin and asks, "Speaking of personal life. I believe Agent Barton is having a small get together this weekend. M'sure if he knew you were back from your leave he'd tell you but he hasn't been around the office lately."
    Let's not talk about personal life. Oh by the way, about your personal life.
Mockingbird It is not the first time she has had an agent try to winkle out information about her personal life. Bobbi is mildly amused and mildly irritated. Amusement wins. Her preference is not to dwell on the negative. If his interest is not prurient, which she thinks is unlikely, then it the joy of being in love that drives his need to share. Her eyes narrow briefly as she shares his gaze. Natasha can handle herself.

"Agent Barton kindly let me know. Are you going, too?" She returns the question with light innocence.
Phobos     "I..." Alexander pauses and considers, his lower lip draws beween his teeth and then he cocks an eyebrow. "I mean, I might. Depending on how things shake out. I sent my R.S.V.P. with the caveat that I couldn't speak for. You know, anyone else."
    But then his eyes narrow slightly as he follows along with her oh so sheltered expressions as he murmurs, "I don't think I should go alone, as it were, since I've heard horrible things about Level 7s and above picking on nice innocent Level 1 agents who have done nothing wrong."
    He nods a bit.
Mockingbird "You are learning. I mean about the horrors of Level Sevens. They kick us upstairs to keep us out of trouble." She looks down at her half-eaten salad and pushes it an inch away, signaling she is finished.

"Besides we only pick on you to make you better."

Bobbi nods again, all wide-eyed innocence then lowers her voice conspiratorially, "If Agent Romanoff is here, I'm sure she'll enjoy going with you, Agent Aaron. I'll probably see you there."
Phobos     "If that were so, then clearly I should be the very best in all the things." The whole picking on them thing to make them better. But his smile is given, albeit gently as she makes that small movement to withdraw. He uncurls a hand, "But if I see you there don't be a stranger."
    There, that's a normalish thing to say. He gives a nod and straightens up. "I should probably get down to sub-level 15 and get that inventory started."
Mockingbird Mouth compressed into a pleasant, non-committal smile, Bobbi pushes back her chair and picks up her tray. Her eyebrows only rise slightly at him saying not to be strangers. Holding her tray, she says, "Good to get to know you, Agent Aaron. Have a good day."