Mila Maxwell aka Volt (maxvolts) wrote in theinvincibles, @ 2015-08-03 16:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, mila maxwell, petros argyropoulos |
Who: Mila Maxwell [Volts] & Petros Argyropoulos [AZRAEL]
Where: Training Room
When: August 3, 2015
What: Petros offers some advice.
Warnings: None!
Mila quietly moved to the corner of the training room to grab her towel before anyone could see the tiny sparks of electricity shooting out from the sweat on her forehead. Rationally she knew it wasn’t enough to hurt anyone, but she was sure no one would appreciate the unexpected jolt if she ran into them. It wasn’t like before, she had control, but even now she found herself distancing herself from her teammates just in case. A pity other people couldn’t read her mind. “Just taking a quick breather,” she explained, not wanting Argo to think she was slacking off by hiding in the corner. "Unacceptable, Operative," Argo said, in a passable imitation of Percy Rathborne's drill sergeant bark. "We got no time to breathe when APEX is out there ready to kick our asses!" “My ass if safe so long as I’m sitting down,” she countered, smirking at his impression. “It’s the other parts I have to worry about.” Drawing closer -- not even that close -- Argo could already feel the prickle of static electricity on his clothes and in his hair. Better for everyone if she took a minute to pull her powers back under control. Breaking the Agent Golf impersonation, his face relaxed into a smile. "Why don't we take five?" He reached into his pocket and fished out an energy gel packet, which he lobbed at Mila. "Catch." She caught the packet easily, nodding her head in thanks as she tore open the top. “Nice of you to keep it warm for me.” She sucked the contents down slowing, using the time to focus on keeping the electric energy stored inside. There would be time for a power dump later. “It’s okay to admit you’re tired, you know. You don’t need to use me for an excuse.” Her tone was serious, but the grin playing at her lips made it clear she was only messing with him. "Me, tired? Pfft." Though Argo played along, almost laughing, he was sweatier than usual, having put in a good effort for the first part of training. He pulled out a gel of his own and tore the packet open with his teeth. "How about you? How's Operative training stack up against the OTP?" “This? This is a piece of cake. If that cake was laced with razors,” she observed cheerfully, leaning back against the wall as she watched others continue to go through the paces. “It’s not so bad. It’s nice to stay busy.” There were less dangerous occupations, but where was the fun in that? “Cursing the day you got stuck with us, yet?” "Nah." Argo shrugged. In truth, even after more than half a year as team leader, he still felt like a fraud. Talia and Rathborne aside, no one in the team had more than two years of experience ("green" suited them well), and Argo doubted the fairness of saddling them with a team leader who, in all honesty, didn't know that much more. Not that the DMS really valued fairness in the first place. But Argo liked Mila, and he recognized it wouldn't help to tell her any of that, so instead he said, "You guys are alright." “It’s okay to admit you love us.” Mila couldn’t help but feel for their team leader. It couldn’t be easy to be in charge of the newbies, especially when APEX was determined to make their presence known. There was a big difference between preparing for someone to try and kill you and having someone actually try and kill you. Hopefully they didn’t choke when it counted. “Rathborne loves us too. That’s why he yells so much. He’s full of so much emotion it just comes spewing out.” "You got it all figured out," he said, and even though his tone sounded joking, the fact that the Agents had brought a case of beer to team bonding had proven that they cared at least a little about working together. Argo winked at Mila. "Don't tell the others. Manly reputations are at stake here." “I’m smart like that.” Mila didn’t put too much stock in any of the agents actually caring about them. Sure, they might get along well enough, but they wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet through her brain. Not the best way to inspire loyalty, but clearly it worked well enough. “Manly reputations, huh? Is that like normal reputations, but with more facial hair?” "Bingo." He scratched his chin (it could, admittedly, have used a shave) and considered how best to phrase what he wanted to say without sounding awkward. Then he just went for it. "But in all seriousness, if the yelling is getting to you, or if there's something you need to worn on without anyone being a dick about it, let me know, alright? I'm the leader, not Agent Golf." Even if it didn't always feel that way. “The yelling doesn’t bother me,” she shrugged, making sure there wasn’t any lingering electricity in her hands before grabbing her water bottle dripping with condensation. She appreciated his offer, but going to others for help wasn’t always the most natural instinct when you had spent most of your life avoiding people so they wouldn’t get zapped. “This isn’t some not-so-subtle- way of telling me I have something to work on, is it? No, look, I appreciate what you’re saying. I do. And I’ll keep it in mind.” "Great," he said. "You're doing great. I just -- I get that the whole team thing is new, and trust is hard." He meant it when he said that Mila was doing great -- on her own. But between his own experience becoming an Operative and mentoring Evelyn, he could recognize her hesitation when it came to working in a team. Mila sat in silence for a moment as she weighed his words, her easy grin pinching at the corners ever so slightly. No, trust wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t other people she lacked trust in. “Nothing a few near-death experiences can’t cure,” she said dryly, studying him for a moment. With a power like his she knew he was coming from a place of understanding rather than judgment. “I can see my attempt to become the mysterious one is not going fly. So what helped you?” It was Argo's turn to pause in silent consideration. "Don't follow my lead on this one," he said, shaking his head. “You tried for an orgy, didn’t you? You look the type.” The smart comeback was easy. A mastered defense against awkward moments and rising tensions. If he wanted to talk about it he would, if he didn’t she wouldn’t pry. "Yeah, that would've just made it worse." Argo snorted and reached for his water bottle. Any sex was convoluted and dangerous for him, to say nothing of group sex. He shook his head. "But no. What it really took was killing someone." “Well aren’t I the asshole,” she said, honest enough to look sheepish. She had heard about it, of course, but it didn’t click that he was talking about that incident. There was no pity in her eyes as she looked at him, but there was a hint of understanding. “If it makes you feel any better, I attempted my first homicide before I could walk. But no, I guess that’s not the sort of thing you can be made to feel better about.” She didn’t say sorry. She doubted he would want to hear it. Sometimes life was just shit, more so when you had a power you couldn’t always control. Petros filed away Mila's confession in the back of his mind as another way their experiences with their powers were similar. "It's alright," he said. "I made my peace with God." Or close enough to it, anyway. "Afterwards, something clicked. I knew I didn't want to do it again, and I had a better shot at that if other people had my back." Not that he'd had complete success at not killing anyone else, but he knew it could have been easily much, much worse. "Like I said, I wouldn't suggest following my lead on this one." “I won’t,” she said simply, no judgment in her voice. If anything killing someone would make her more inclined to isolate herself, but with any luck it would never come to that. Not unless APEX forced her hand. “For whatever it’s worth, it’s not that I don’t trust you guys. I do. I’m still working on this whole teamwork thing.” "Good enough for me," he said. He reached out a safely gloved hand to help her up. "Wanna get back to it?" “Lead the way,” she agreed, grabbing his hand without a spark in sight. |