Taking care of business

[ctu_savior]

WHO: Import police officers and their various allies and consultants.
WHERE: Police Headquarters, Lower Manhattan.
WHEN: Throughout the day Saturday.
WARNINGS: Discussion of violence?
SUMMARY: The Import parts of the police force take advantage of time between apocalypses to sort out some daily business.
FORMAT: Whatever works.

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[ctu_savior]

It was a long meting, and Jack would have needed to unwind a bit afterward even if he didn't have one of the most grueling training and fitness schedules on the force to maintain. Ordinarily he would go for an Army-style run then hit the range while his blood was still pumping like it would be in combat.

Today though, he was aware that people might want to talk to him after the meeting. So he rolled up his sleeves, took off his tie, and stepped up to the range. Then he began slamming pistol rounds through the head and heart of paper silhouette targets with grim, mechanical efficiency.

[spadassin]

Scathach had stayed out of most of the meeting talk; she had been there to familiarize herself with the scents of those on the police force. Having them all in the same room had simply made it easier. After that task had been completed, she had hung around mostly to speak with Jack. He was one of the few she would go out of her way to meet, if he asked. So once the meeting adjourned, she slipped away from the milling group of officers to follow him.

Despite her outfit, she felt that she had managed to follow him rather unnoticed. She watched quietly as he fired away, waiting until he finished a clip to step closer.

"Impressive."

[ctu_savior]

He turned to acknowledge her, then reloaded. "Thanks," he said. Jack hit the button to bring in his targets, whirring toward him on their ceiling rails. The holes clustered around their vital areas confirmed that if they were real people, they would be real bodies now.

"I wasn't expecting you at the meeting," he said as he looked them over. "You've never been much for the official side of things."

[spadassin]

Scathach smiled a bit as she watched him bring his targets home. His grouping was impressive, there was no doubt of that. He was a strong human, which was part of what drew her towards him. That and the fact that he was a human in a position of power. She just couldn't help herself.

A smirk made its way to her lips. "Certain things have... changed. Though I'm flattered you noticed."

[ctu_savior]

Jack satisfied himself with the targets, took down the perforated ones, and put up new ones. Dealing with Scathach was always vaguely surreal for him. This was partly because she was supernatural and partly because she looked seventeen or eighteen, but exuded a sense of the ancient and mystical. Younger than his daughter on the outside, older than history in truth. With this, as with everything, he forced his feelings to the back of his mind and focused on what was important.

"Hard change to miss," he said. "You're not really an office person." He looked at her, then at his gun. "I don't suppose you want to try one of these."

[spadassin]

Even as he tried to hide his discomfort, Scathach could sense it welling up inside. He did a relatively good job of ignoring it though, and she mentally applauded him. He was good at being objective, a trait she admired (probably because she herself shared it). "You're just very observant, I think."

The redhead look at the gun for just a moment, and then pulled out one of her many knives, holding it up. "Too impersonal. I prefer blades. But thank you for the offer."

[ctu_savior]

"Well yeah, that too." Jack smiled a little. He knew what he was capable of, and he could take a compliment when he needed to. When he wasn't busy brooding at least.

He wondered why it mattered to her whether killing was personal or not. Neutralizing the target was the important thing to him, but he guessed Scathach had a very different perspective on that kind of thing.

He reloaded and prepared to fire another clip. "Maybe once I'm done here you can give me some pointers. Been a while since I had to use a knife." Jack remembered his blade sinking into the neck of a HIVE leader during the battle for LA. Not a good day.

[spadassin]

Scathach had the unfortunate curse of a near-perfect memory. She couldn't remember her father's face, or sometimes her mother's voice, but she knew the face of every person she had killed. She didn't regret any of them (she couldn't, really), but she knew that if she ever slept, their faces would be there in her dreams.

That was one of the times she was thankful for her vampirism. Sleep would be hell.

Before he had a chance to pull the trigger, Scathach had already thrown her knife towards the target; the blade sliced through the thin paper as if it wasn't even there, leaving a clean cut where the heart was marked to be. "Gladly." Her voice was almost too sweet, almost too excited.

[ctu_savior]

Jack stared for a moment at the sheer speed and grace of the movement- one second standing, the next, knife in the target. She really was uncanny. "Great," he said, and fired off his appointed number of shots with rote precision, striking home more by habit than by any effort.

Once he was done and the exercise had been ended by the appropriate safety and cleaning precautions, deeply ingrained into his muscle memory, he holstered his weapon and took out a new one, a simple and unremarkable-looking switchblade. Compared to the medieval artistry Scathach favoured, it looked like a piece of tin, but Jack handled it with the ease of experience. "Alright, how do you want to do this?"

[spadassin]

"Thank you." She could see the precision, the mechanical way with which he aimed and shot. He had been trained well, and had practiced for countless hours--there was no mistaking either of those as anything but fact. She was impressed.

The redhead watched and waited, patient for him to finish. She understood such rituals, and would not interrupt. But when he took out the knife... she couldn't help but smirk a bit. It was rugged, but would work. Though part of her wasn't sure if he was referring to her suddenly showing interest in the police force or working with blades, but she opted to believe the latter. She pulled out another knife, and spun it around with her fingers a few times. "Preferably somewhere less... public." If he had just walked right in there, who was to say someone else couldn't?

[ctu_savior]

"Works for me." The shooting range was meant for the use of the entire force, not cutlery practice between the two of them. Jack put the knife in his pocket.

"Exercise room should be open, there's mats in there." He was already mentally preparing himself for a beating. He was sure that whatever pointers she had to give him would eventually involve sparring, and was under no illusions about his ability to stand up to ancient warrior goddess-vampires in hand-to-hand.

[spadassin]

Without a word, Scathach followed him. She was sure that a place with mats would be just perfect for her... lesson. Scatty thought calling it anything else would be unsuitable (if more accurate). She didn't stop playing with the knife the entire way, letting her eyes wander around the station, becoming acquainted with its layout. Jack was right--she didn't go there much. But she was considering making it a regular stop on her patrols.

[ctu_savior]

Jack stopped on a mat, glad the room seemed to be empty. It wouldn't be good for someone to see a person with a knife not usually seen around the station beating up the Captain and getting the wrong idea. He took a moment to loosen his shirt collar and take off his shoes, then stood with his feet apart and stance relaxed.

"Okay, how do you want to start?" There wasn't much question of Scathach not leading in this thing.

[spadassin]

Scathach was actually pleased with the layout of the room: plenty of space for them to move, plenty of mats on which he could land. Not that she planned on throwing him, but it was better to be prepared. She followed suit, removing her shoes and even her jewelry--it wouldn't harm her if ripped away, but she didn't want to risk harming him more than necessary. Of course she was going to go easy on him (to a certain extent), but things could always get out of hand accidentally.

The redhead took a similar stance, and began to size him up. Yes, she would use human speed and strength for this. It was only fair, as she was teaching. So without a word, she sprang forward, going for a slash at his side. How he'd react to a surprise would tell her a lot.

[ctu_savior]

Jack's training for this form of combat focused on quick and efficient disarmament, nothing graceful or elegant. So when Scathach made her move, his ingrained reflexes prompted him to twist to his side, cross his arms in front of the arc of her slash, and catch her knife-hand in his free one. The moment he made contact he began the disarming move, trying to twist her arm behind her back, a basic series of motions that was almost automatic to him by now.

[spadassin]

His reaction time was impressive for a human. He moved slower than Josh, yes, but he hadn't been completely human in the first place. He was roughly the same speed as Joan of Arc had been before she had received Scathach's blood. In a different age, he would have been a great warrior. She might have even searched for him and invited him to her school. But, as things stood, this was the twenty-first century. The world did not need heroes like that anymore.

So she let him twist her arm, but did not drop her knife. In fact, she didn't give any indication that was in pain at all (mostly because she couldn't feel it). She did exert enough force to stop him from moving her arm, though. She smiled, content to stay like that for the moment. "Impressive."