Agent Winters


brian2_icon.gif katherine_icon.gif

Scene Title Agent Winters
Synopsis Brian and Katherine meet.
Date Saturday Feb 7 2009


Description of location, if any.

It's been a few days, a few days since his whole world was shattered, a few days that he found out he was living a lie, a few days since he signed that little line which gave his life away. Did he have a life to give away in the first place? He was engineered. His fist lands soundly on the full body punching bag. Another punch…
It's a lot to take in. Brian Ful—Brian Winters is currently taking out his anger, taking out a whole life that was a lie on a poor red bag. It's mid-day, and this is all he has been doing. Training, exercising, studying. A few more solid hits land on the bag. He wears a pair of black sweats and a sleeveless white shirt.
The newest Agent in Training to the Company raises one hand to wipe the sweat off his brow as he takes a few steps away from the bag. His moves are fierce, and carry a lot of power, but they are by no means attacks that would label him a pro. He has passion, but the training still isn't all there. Picking up a towel he left nearby, he brings it up to dab at the sweat. The gymnasium is fairly empty, only a few other personnel of the Company occupy it for the present.

Kat, real name Katherine Marks, Agent for The Company, steps into the gym and goes into situational awareness strictly on instinct. She sees a few scattering of folks around doing this and that, cardio and weight lifting. She doesn't seem to be in the best of moods, consider she got her ass handed to her by someone she didn't know during a spar the other day, and she's come to see if she can improve.
Of course, she's not an angry as the man over there who seems to have some sort of vendetta against the punching bag, but she supposes that it could have somehow offended him. She walks by going towards the bag on the other side of him. She is dressed in her typical workout uniform, athletic grey tanktop, blue shorts and sneaker. Her hands are taped, around the knuckles and then all the way to the wrist to keep her from snapping it.
"I don't think it can call 'uncle'." she remarks, almost immediately stinging as a reminder of her submission loss recently. She isn't friendly, nor is she socially inviting. It was a snarky comment, from a bitchy woman. With that, she takes a swing or two at the bag, light ones as she warms up.

"Well maybe you will." The comment is a knee-jerk reaction. He hadn't even looked at the woman yet, the words came in his ear, and his own words left out of his mouth. Brows arch a little bit, in shock of what he just said as he slowly goes to look at the woman he just responded to. His eyes go a little wider at the woman. The attractive woman. It seems like every lady in this whole organization was pretty. Maybe they didn't hire ugly people.
"Uh, hi." He quickly says as if to make up for the comment said without thinking. The towel is quickly rubbed on his face before being draped around his neck.

She throws a few harder jabs, ignoring him for the moment, as she enjoys the feeling of the sting that comes to her fist as it connects to the vinyl on the bag. Each hit comes harder than the last, "Whatever. I hope you have something to be angry about." Kat continues to strike. "It's okay to be a little pissed off now and then, but around here, it'll only get you into trouble." The bag is beginning to swing under her attack. Each one is cold and calculated, positioned just perfectly. Of course, it's not fighting back either.

"I just found out I was genetically altered by my parents to be some super human, then my parents died and the parents I thought were my real parents aren't. I worked with a vigilante organization I don't remember and apparently they bailed on me. That good enough?" Brian asks with a little smirk as he bends to pick up his water bottle. Tilting some liquid back into his throat, he watches her closely. "How long have you been around here?" He asks, tilting his head.

Kat's been around a while, so the story doesn't phase her. In fact, she's heard similar stories like this for as long as she's been with the Company, which has been, "Four years. Almost five." Kat's own story is far different. It took her all of five minutes to realize what a cool gift she had. Of course, she was drunk when she discovered it, but once she realized what she could do, she was going to make the most of it. "Joined up right after college. Well, recruited is more like it. Probably the same as you. How long are they keeping you sidelined for that temper problem?" she asks. It's an obvious question, though probably not to him. For someone with his degree of anger, surely they wouldn't put him right out into the field, at least not alone.

"I think I'm getting a partner soon. Sidelined?" He asks, his voice incredulous. "I'm not being sidelined." He doesn't know what his assignment is yet, or who is partner is, but he's pretty sure he's not sidelined. "I don't think I went to college." He muses, truth be told, he doesn't remember much. "I was an anti-terrorist. And then, Mister Goodman found me. Homeland Security was taking me to prison I think." He gives a little shrug as if he doesn't really remember. "I don't have a temper problem." He retorts, giving her a little frown.

If Kat were the chuckling kind, this would be one of those moments she might. But she's not. Strictly professional all the way down to the perfect bow tied on her sneakers. "Huh. Tell that to the bag then. A little harsh on it, aren't you?" The thing with Kat is you never really can tell if she's teasing you or not, and while you might expect it, her expression would never show it. She does nod at the mention of a partner. "Yeah, that would be the obvious choice now, since they need all the agents they can get out in the field." She currently has her own assignement, working solo. She's been around long enough that they don't worry about her being on her own, at least not for tracking assignments. "What were you going to prison for?"

"I don't know." He confesses, "Like I said, I don't remember much. All I know is what Mister Goodman told me." Looking to the bag he gives a little smirk. "It'll get over it." He waves a dismissive hand, "Just had some frustrations to work off, that doesn't mean I have a temper. Unless you're a psychologist?" He asks, arching a brow at her. He answers the question for himself, "So, what's your name?"

Kat stop punching to turn towards the man. "Katherine. I answer to Kat, but never Kate. Call me Kate and you're likely to lose a tooth or a testicle." And she talks about temper management. "Nope. Not a phychologist, I'm an agent. And I know. I was messing with you." she finally admits. She turns back to her back and begins to beat on it some more. "You don't remember much, but what do you remember?" Her punches become harder and harder, as she enjoys the feel of the smack on her hand, as her eyes remained trained on her target, even as she answers and asks questions.

A little roll of his eyes. "Yeah, I know you're not a psychologist. I was messing with you." He says in return, letting his lips ride up into a little smirk. Though it may be hard for people to tell if Kat is teasing, it's very easy to tell when Brian is. And it's pretty much always. "I have little flashes of memory. Kinda feels like a dream, you know? Fire, explosions, gunshots, knives.." A little shrug. "Whatever I did, I guess I wasn't a nice guy, hmm?" He won't give his name, not yet. She didn't even ask for it. Instead he seems perfectly happy just watching her punch the bag over and over.

Oh, there'll be a name alright. She may not ask it, but before long Kat will have dubbed the new guy with a nickname. Just like 'Spanky' in accounting, and "Tootsie Roll' in human resource. Realistically though, she'll find out his name, never use it, and move on with her business. "Sounds like my 'happy place'." she swings again and again at the bag. She's starting to use enough force now that it is starting to rock back and forth. "Has there been any talk of pulling out those memories? They do it sometimes around here, I'm told." Just one of the many rumors that float around the Company, though know one would ever admit they do such a thing.

A little grin rides up his lips as he watches her. All the woman in this company are attractive, but they're also all icy. A little shrug is given to her. "They're just making me train. Training, studying. All that. Not a lot of fun." He notes, going to fold his arms over his chest. "So, Kat, what is your.. assignment here? Confidential?"

Kat neither dresses to look attractive nor cares to look attractive. Really, the girl could never really be in any sort of serious relationship, unless her partner enjoyed being treated like a doormat. Her hair is put up in the back, tied into a ponytail that bobs around as she lays in punch after punch, as she attacks the defenseless bag. "Oh, tracking at the moment. Haven't been given any other instructions as of yet." She knows full well what that studying entails. Hard work, actually. She doesn't envy him at all. "They given you any idea where they're going to put you?"

A little shake of his head. "Not really." He confesses. "They've just told me I'm really special, and really important, and I'm the future or something." The way he says it, sounds like he doesn't really believe it, or that he has his doubts about how special he really is. Brian gives a little nod, "So. I don't really know anyone around here… Maybe you want to grab lunch or something, some time?"

She finally stops punching the bag as she takes the towel from around her neck and wipes her face down. She is panting, having worked herself out pretty good, despite the chatting. "Lunch is fine." she says. Not really jumping up and down for joy or anything, but she does have to eat. "Just let me know when you're available, as long as I'm not out in the field or something." She wraps the towel around her neck again. "I need to get a shower, but I'll see you about, I'm sure. Good luck with the studying." she says.

"I'm Brian. By the way." He calls out as he goes to get ready to leave. Tilting some more water back into his throat he goes to set the bottle down. "Or, Agent Winters, I guess." There's a nice little ring to that. Agent Winters. And as soon as she leaves the bag, Brian goes back to it. He still has a whole life's worth of venting to do.

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