1964-01-04 - I'm not a ninja
Summary: Silver Sable tries to train the Irredeemable Ant-Man.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
eric silver 

It's mid-day, and Eric O'Grady is finally up. He slept in. He's been really taking the advantage of being the Ant-Man for granted. But while they would like for him to be up, bright and early, training, working out, getting better, becoming the best agent he could be, reality is far from that. He was up late, drinking, woke up with a bit of a hangover, so he went back to bed. Only now does he find his way into the training room. He expected to find it deserted, since most of the agents have other things to do during the day.

He has his helmet under his arm, with his costume shrunk and stored inside it. So it looks like an unusually ornate motorcycle helmet. Other than that, he wears standard S.H.I.E.L.D. issue training gear, which is navy blue with silver accents. He starts by hopping on a cardio machine, getting his pulse up. At least he did know the basics. But Eric O'Grady was anything but a example of an agent. Actually, he was. He was an example of everything not to do.

Agents come and go of course. That's the nature of the organisation. You get sent out on assignment, you come back. Or in the case of same agents - like the woman they called 'Silver Sable' - there are other reasons to leave. Like running an international business. The New York expansion is due to open within the week, so she has a perfect excuse to be in the city, and thusly check in with S.H.I.E.L.D. Of course her idea of 'check in' is 'show up before the morning shift starts, work out until the message is passed that she's here'.

So in one corner of the training room, Silver Sable to pounding the hell out of a punching bag. She's wearing appropriate clothes for a workout, although predictably (because she's a woman that loves a certain colour scheme, and she's sticking to it dammit) they're silver/grey, and her hair is tied back away from her face.

When Eric spots the silver haired woman, in the silver-grey workout clothes, punching the hell out of a bag, he is both smitten, and worried. She had some real power in her body, knocking the bag as if it were made of paper, but, she's gorgeous. So of course he meanders over to her, looking at a nearby punching bag. He tries to position himself so that he can see her while doing his own thing.

He takes a tentative swing at the punching bag, and it's probably one of the most feeble punches you may have ever seen. But then, until recently, he wasn't a field agent. He got past the exams on physical fitness and such, but only barely. That's why he rode a desk, looking at a monitor all day. But then he became the Ant-Man, and his world changed. "So, do you come here often?" He asks. It's an obvious line, but then, he's got much worse ones.

That is a line if she's ever heard one; Silver might roll her eyes, but it's hard to tell, facing away from Eric as she is. "My father told me American men were much more creative when it came to flirting," she answers. Her voice has a slight Slavic accent to it of some kind. Hard to pin down; it's probably not one that's heard commonly, compared to something like Russian. "Warned me. That might be a better word for it." A very stern warning, in fact, as though the elder Sablinov was worried his independent daughter would simply melt at the first American that flirted with her. She turns her head slightly, and then her entire body to face Eric. "That's all you have?" She's not exactly on Hollywood's A-list, but she's in the news often enough: Silver Sablinova, the Princess of Symkaria and the CEO of Silver Sable International.

"Oh, you want creativity? I can do creativity." Eric feels as though he's been challenged. Leaving the bag that he had barely punched, and looked terrible in the attempt, he moved up to the woman. He moves so that he can look her in those beautiful blue eyes, sapphires if he had to describe them, or were their icy pools of a mountain lake? A crystal waterfall? Oh, his mind was going all over the place, but in the end, he met her gaze, making eye contact, and with all the charisma he can muster, he said, "turtles think frogs are homeless." He went with a joke. It may have been funny, it might not, but he was trying.

The look on her face says it all: unimpressed. The punching bag swings back in Silver's direction, and she gives it a good thump with one hand without turning back around to face it. "E for effort," she says simply. "But to answer your question: I am usually not in New York. Today is my first day back in…" She frowns and thinks, her face not quite scrunching up a little. "It has been about 10 months." Not that she's been lazing about either. Business to run and other leads to deal with for SHIELD, as well as making sure equipment gets sent through the company channels and to SHIELD safehouses proprly… "Maybe 11."

It had to be the language barrier, Eric told himself. It wasn't that his joke simply wasn't funny, she just didn't get the joke. At least, that's what he thought to avoid his tender ego from being bruised. He does duck when she hits the punching bag again. It wasn't going to hit him, not in a million years, but better to be safe than sorry. "Welcome back. Have you tried the bagels down on 47th street? They're amazing with a big of garlic cream cheese. Or the hot dogs from Arnie's Hot Dog stand? You know he uses kobe beef in the hot dogs and has caviar on top?" It may sound disgusting, and cost way too much, but those hot dogs were pretty good.

"10 months huh, or 11? Well, my name is Eric O'Grady, and while you were gone, I became the Ant-Man." He makes a pose, putting his hands on his hips, as if the Ant-Man should mean anything to her. "Well, it was a big deal for me. It got me out of a dead end job, and made it so I could meet beautiful silver haired women who probably picture my face when hitting a punching bag. Though, they do say I need to learn how to fight. I don't suppose you'd like to teach me? Maybe some holds?" Yeah, holds, like the kind that would involve her putting her body close to his. He was shameless.

It could be the language barrier. Silver shakes her head slightly. "I haven't. Usually I am only in New York for a day before I venture out again." After all, the headquarters for her business isn't in the States. Well, it wasn't to start, anyhow. Things might change, since apparently S.H.I.E.L.D. has decided they want to keep her close at hand if at all possible. "But I've heard my employees speak highly of the place." The dramatic pose isn't quite commented on, though Silver regards Eric with an arched brow and nods her head. "A pleasure," she says, though perhaps it sounds like she's saying it just for the sake of civility and politesse. "Silver Sablinova." As she speaks she offers a hand. "S.H.I.E.L.D. hasn't provided you with a trainer?"

Eric O'Grady takes her hand and bends down to kiss the back of her wrist, apparently not caring that it had recently smacked into a punching bag, and may even have sweat on it. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, which was rare for him. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Silver. And no, not as of yet. Listen, uh… I kind of stole the suit, borrowed it, during a crisis, after another, um, agent was… done… using it. Anyway, I sort of taught myself how to use it, and somebody high up must have liked my work, or thought I had potential, so they let me keep it, but they want me to get fitter, to learn how to fight, and all that. But, I guess I've just fallen through the cracks. Nobody was assigned to teach me. But, maybe they just don't have any good teachers. How do you teach someone to fight when they can become the size of an ant. It's weird. When I shrink, I keep my own strength and durability. So, if I punch, it's like a regular punch, but it all goes to a tiny space. Kind of like a bullet. Cool, huh?" He was sharing so much, and trying not to get caught checking her out.

If she were being honest, Silver would say the oversharing with someone she just met is a bit… odd. It doesn't make her uncomfortable, but it does make sure that her arched eyebrow sits in that position for a good solid minute. What is it with Americans and oversharing? "So you become this big." She holds her fingers apart for emphasis. "I do not think you need someone who understands being that small as a trainer. If you are still strong, then anything you lean should transfer over." She's guessing, anyhow. In her head it makes sense. Nothing about him changes except the size, so punches and kicks should still work, right? And perhaps the oversharing does let Eric get away with checking Sable out, because she definitely does not comment on it. Perhaps she's too focused on how odd it is that this new agent is giving her all this information.

"I can actually get this small," and he shows with his fingers. It almost looks like his finger and thumb are touching. "or I can grow bigger, but when I grow, I get stronger, more durable, but not as strong or durable as you'd think. I don't understand the science, seems more like fiction to me, but it works, or it has so far." He continues to check her out, getting all the information he needs from a few glances. "And if you know how to fight, I'd love to learn at your um, feet." He bows, overly dramatically, as if she were his new sensei in one of those movies. "Would you want me to put on the suit for this, or just go as I am? The suit looks pretty cool." He probably does not need the suit to train. In fact, it could be a hindrance, but he looks for every opportunity to impress or try to impress a gorgeous woman.

"No suit." She should have seen this coming, really. She turns her back on Eric and paces away, counting each step she takes. Once she's satisfied, she turns back. One hand lifts and she gestures with two fingers. "Come on and show me what they've managed to teach you so far." She's not /technically/ a trainer for the organization. Maybe she should talk to the director about that. Not the first time she's been asked, either.

Nobody ever sees Eric O'Grady coming. That's part of his charm. Whether he's sneaking up on them a miniscule size, or bantering their ear off so that they don't know what he's talking about, he can surprise you, just as he seems to have surprised Silver. He did think that he had overdone it, sent her to the showers, and not the good ones, that he gets to watch. But the, go away from me, I need to esacpe this idiot showers. But no, she seems like she's going to train him, or at least judge him on what he already knows, which isn't much. He followers after her, and comes at her, showing off his awesome, entry level fighting skills, throwing kicks that she can evade or block, punches that she has time to check her watch on, and an assortment of other feeble attempts to fight her. If she wanted to, she could kick his ass forwards, backwards, left, right, up, and down, and all with just one glorious glittering leg.

Or she's just being really polite. Silver waits, not quite impatiently, but there could be some foot tapping involved. As each punch or kick comes in, she deflects, redirects, or blocks as she sees necessary. Were this anyone else - or more accurately, were she actually on the job, she would have dealt with Eric already. This? This is just getting an idea of what the man is capable of. Granted, being smaller would give him the advantage. When she finally decided she's seen enough, she grabs Eric's fist and uses enough force to twist him around, before planting her foot on his butt and kicking him down to the mat. "Not bad. You are a little slow, though."

Eric lands face first on the mat. "Oh, I like the new cleaner they're using. It smells lemony fresh." He makes a spitting noise, as if he probably licked it, without intending to do so. He'll try and get back up, ready for round two. But he is so clearly outmatched. Without his suit, he is nothing but a plaything for a woman of her skill. "See, that's what I said. Put me in the suit, and it makes me look good. Leave me like this, and I'm just your incredibly handsome, run of the mill, gorgeous ginger, blonde, maybe strawberry blonde, I guess it depends on the lighting, but a run of the mill secret agent." He's obviously seen Dr. No and From Russia with Love one too many times.

Silver shakes her head slightly. "Someone should have told you from the beginning. You should learn to fight without the suit, and take what you learn to the suit. What would happen if you wore the suit and it was disabled before you could shrink?" Obviously, she has no idea if this is a valid thing to bring up. "Over-relying on anything is a weakness to be overcome."

"Well, er, I didn't exactly ask for the suit…" he kind of just took it, off of a corpse, in the middle of a battle. But he survived, and he managed to figure out how to use the suit, and he did okay. He got better. But eventually S.H.I.E.L.D. found out and here he was, still an active agent, impressing some of the higher ups, and pissing off others. It was his lot in life. Some adored him, others hated his guts. Most hated his guts. "In this hypothetical, can I still grow? Can I negotiate with them? Do I have a silver haired ninja lady sneaking up behind them and doing super stealthy ninja stuff?"

It takes a lot to make Silver hate someone. Usually put just end up on the 'annoying' list. Most of them time hating someone just isn't worth the effort. "No," she says. For a moment a frown flickers across her face. "And I'm not a ninja." She just had really good trainers. Maybe one was a ninja. She never asked. "I would suggest you talk to someone responsible for training the agents. It's your responsibility to be able to compensate for your weaknesses, Agent O'Grady.'"

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