Owner	Pose
Phobos	There was a curious short BA-BAM BA-BLAM that was heard echoing through the gun range in the Triskelion. The end stall was the only light illuminated at this hour of the night, with the only target lit by the target verification system, noting the trajectory, speed, and power of each round fired. Normally the gun range sees a huge variety of weapons that the data is recorded in the system so it compares the data it gets from people firing against the baseline, but for some reason the weapon being fired in the last line... was giving a reading of 'NO DATA' on the display.     Which was perhaps the very reason the young SHIELD Agent was firing it.     A voice over the intercoms was heard, << You're sure there's no record of it in the system? >>     "I mean," Alexander's voice was heard as he took off the ear and eye protection. "I'm leaning toward it being clerical error, since it's not like it's super rare. Just kinda rare? Or maybe it just sucks and it was the way of someone protesting the profaning of a cultural icon."     The object of the agents attention was the firearm in his hand, which was a curious double-barreld pistol monstrosity that seemed as if someone had somehow fused two M1911s together into one. It had chrome-plating, and had a glamorous look to it, almost Hollywoodesque, yet the practical testing they had been doing had been somewhat... lacking.     << Going to reload and try a few more rounds. >>     "Nah, I think we got the data. If SHIELD ever needs a sidearm that jams every time you chamber the first few rounds, then this is our guy."     Which causes the agent in the control room to snicker.
Natasha Romanoff	It happened a lot. Natasha worked weird hours. She was called in to consult on situations even when she wasn't on the op itself. Thus she might end up in a meeting for hours randomly on her day off, as she had today. She had glanced at the clock as she was finally leaving the briefing room. Ten hours. She was sure that Alexander had to have gone home by now. But a quick check on her phone had no message he had done such. And there would be a message if he had. They'd established that the hard way when she went home only to realize he was still waiting for her and they set the rule he would text if he went home so she'd know. A quick consultation of records showed where he was. Which caused a lift of her eyebrows in surprise. The phone was tucked into one of the pouches at her belt for she was in her full SHIELD uniform. As she got to the gun range, she had opted to enter the control room first, figuring that it would be empty. She was surprised to find someone there monitoring what Alexander was doing. "Good morning." Since it has passed midnight. Her tone was polite as she walked over to check what was happening below. Then she looked to the readings on the weapon and frowned at the NO DATA. "What sort of a monstrosity is that?" she muttered as she examined the specs of the weapon itself.
Phobos	Up in the control booth the other Agent, Agent Simms, sat up abruptly and straightened up from his slouch, the mug of coffee in his hands sloshing slightly. He tries to wipe off the small spatter off his shirt pocket but then sets the mug down and gives a short sharp business-like nod to Natasha. "Ma'am."     The silken voice of the Black Widow somehow slipped into the sounds coming from the range handler's speaker high on the wall of his stall. A thing that caused Alexander to smile a little with a hint of warmth in his gaze as he turned and glanced up toward that raised window midway down the range. He lifts the chromed pistol in hand and twists it around. He ejected the magazine and cleared the chambers with a pull back on the hefty slide.     "It's a dual-barreled M1911. M2011? Though don't know if it was designed in that year." He hefts it and sets it barrel pointing down upon the shelf beside the firing platform.
Natasha Romanoff	"It looks interesting but I'm not impressed with the stats. I know you have better aim than this, Agent Aaron. So it has to be the weapon." But now she was intrigued. Natasha had been around a long time. She knew a lot of weapons. Many had become obsolete over the years. She also made sure she stayed up to date on modern weapons yes this had somehow flown under her rader. "I'm coming down." And with that she gave another nod to the agent manning the console and moved toward the door the led out onto the range itself. There was a small ante room where she was required to pick up all the usual safety gear, as much as it galled her to do so. It was stupid in her mind. After all, she wouldn't have safety goggles and noise supressing earplugs in a live situation. But here they were. She moved down the long line of empty spots to the one occupied by Alexander. He would be able to see the sparkle in her eyes though the agent in the control booth would not. Then she stopped and immediately turned her attention to the weapon, picking it up to examine it while always keeping the barrel pointed downrange. "Looks interesting but I suspect it's garbage with all those low shots."
Phobos	"What are you talking about?" Alexander's voice is heard as he tilts his head to the side, his lips twisting a little. "This fires _two_ bullets. Your pistol only fires one. Clearly this is superior." He says that with a single sharp nod and then starts to divest himself of his firing gear.     Meanwhile up in the booth, the operator had given Natasha a nod in passing and had kept that rather official and straight-laced manner. He watched as the Black Widow walked past, but then whens he left the room his attention shifted to the monitor.     And Agent Aaron seemed curiously at ease with the Avenger. "You are just envious."
Natasha Romanoff	"Envious?" That had caught her attention as she paused, the slide locked back as she looked revealing the double chamber. The magazine lay on the counter before her. Which was an odd magazine to say the least since it was like two fused together. The gun was the same way. "What's the use of having that many rounds flying if you can't hit where you are aiming? Seems like two 1911s would be better. Same amount of lead heading to the target and less chance of missing." Not that everyone could fire akimbo but she seemed to forget that point. She reached for the .45 ammo nearby and began to expertly slip them into the magazine with the familiar metallic sound that anyone that spent a lot of time around guns knew as well as their favorite song. Seemed the Widow wanted to see it in action close up. Or fire it herself.