Participants:
| Scene Title | Crotchety Old Man Curt |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Early morning in the gym, two agents meet each other officially for the first time. One grumps, the other bitches, there's going ot be beer come tuesday. He demand a short skirt and tight shirt. |
| Date | June 13, 2009 |
Primatech Research - Gym
The treadmill is going in the gym, deserted at this morning hour as everyones jsut getting up. Minea had come in early, somewhat to avoid Magnes, drop off his request with Len and get a good solid hour or more in the gym. ANother perk of having a badge, you can avoid having to wait for the curfew to be lifted. But it's saturday, and the sound of feet hitting the rubber tread in loud in the room, little red headphones leading up from an ipod that's wrapped around her upper arm. The brunette has been sweating up a storm as she ran herself through paces. Oblivious to anyone else who might be entering. Tattoo's litter her body, no sleeves or any such large intricate piece. Just solitary one here and there. Her brown hair is back in a ponytail and swings from side to side with each step that she takes.
Curt walks in sucking on a bottle of water. BDU pants that have been cut into shorts, sneakers and a muscle t are apparently all he requires. His gym bag is dropped on the floor near the free weights and he starts to warm up, silently ignoring the other agent in the room. He too comes equipped with ink, but his is slightly faded, at least 15 years old. On one shoulder and bicep, the designations clearly military in nature, not fanciful or decorative. He starts to strech, swinging his lean arms about in looping arcs.
"Morning" Company agents tend to be observant. Curt coming in, garners her attention. "Agent… Lu?" Minea prides herself on knowing the names of the other Agents. Or at least, at minimum,t he ones she might come in contact with. Being Veronica's partner qualifies the other man as worthy of name knowing. "What service?" A gesture with her hand to the fading tattoo's.
Curt grunts and puts up a nod her direction. Lu, despite having been away on assignment for a few years, is old hat here at the Company. Rumors say he was here nearly in the beginning, but it's obviously not true. Hell, he's about Minea's age. "Army Rangers, first Regiment, Hanoi." which also is unlikely, as that would have made him one of the militaries first Spec Ops soldiers and a veteran of the Vietnam war… Assuming of course Minea knows her military history. He flashes her a bit of a smile, "I know you, can't remember where from though. Call me Curt, 'Lu' makes me sound like an Italian Mobster or pawnshop owner." Despite his Asian heritage, there's no accent in his voice, or at least if there is, it's a touch of Queens NYC.
"I'm around, probably seen me in the halls" She doesn't slow down the treadmill as they talk, conversing loud enough to be heard over the whine of the machines. "Call you Curt. How about… I call you, full of shit? Hanoi? Seriously? Unless your name is Adam Monroe, I'll conveniently ignore that."
Curt grins a bit, "Naw, I'm old, but not that old." he says with the same smile, "Tell you this much, I have a daughter older then you." he winks her direction and starts to stretch out his legs next, bending and twisting slowly.
Well. Maybe. It's not like she runs around making sure she knows what each agent does. She'll be looking up his file now, that's for sure. "Well, Curt. Hanoi. Considering where we're working, that could actually quite possibly be true. But I'll hold off calling you a bullshitter again till i've seen your file jacket." The treadmill starts it's last legs of it's session, shuffling down to a quick walk to cool down it's user. "How are you and Veronica getting along?"
Curt shrugs, "She's an insolent little girl and I'm a crotchety old man, how do you think? We're a sitcom waiting to happen." he flops down on the bend and lifts the weights over his head, grunting under strain of the 50 lbs barbells.
"In other words, company pairing at it's finest. Give her time. She was close to Marks. Mark's death isn't that long ago" She points out, keeping an eye on the weights that he lifts. "Evolved or no?"
Curt shakes his head, "Nope. I'm just naturally this gorgeous at the ripe ol' age of sixty-eight." his tone is sarcastic. Hell, he looks like he /might/ be younger then Minea herself, at worst the same age. "Evo."
"Christ Curt, PMSing? I never know half the time here. I sat beside a telepath for a half hour who kept looking at me strange while I was thinking about Brad Pitt when I first came here. So your old. You got a genetic fountain of youth. Too bad your attitude didn't get the same thing" No wonder Veronica was having issues.
Curt just smirks, "What part of crotchety old man did you not get? I can explain crotchety to you if you like?" he smirks the same way. Curt is not a nice and happy guy, but he's not horrible either.
"No, you don't need to. I think maybe you know, maybe you need to get out an have a beer. All work, no play make Curt a grumpy old man instead of the hot piece of ass pumping iron that I see in front of me" No sarcasm there.
Curt smirks a bit, "Look, you're a nice girl and all, and I dig the ink by the way, but you don't want to get close enough to me, long enough, to enjoy this hot piece of ass." he glances at Minea out of the corner of his eye as if finishes his reps and sits up. Without a break he shifts to arm curls, "Of course, if you don't mind the sacrifice I've no issue with you buying me a beer."
"I'll decide how close I want to get. Tuesday, Fat Cat Billiards. Surely crotchety old men know how to play pool" Minea points out as she hops off the treadmill, grabbing a towel an throwing it over her shoulder. "Ink's not for everyone else to dig. It's for me to dig. Be there, at Seven. Understood old man?"
Curt eyes Minea for a moment then shrugs, "Sure thing kiddo. Just read the file before you commit to hanging out is all." he does more the foist injuries, he steals youth and life too. "Wear a skirt and something tight!" he calls after her in a tone that's not nearly as teasing as perhaps it ought to have been.