Agent Spacey
| Handler
| FADE
|
Post by Michael Spacey on Jul 15, 2016 20:33:59 GMT -5
"WEEEEE ARE THE CHAAAAMPIONS! WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS!" okay, so his uniform pepper spray canister wasn't exactly a microphone, but it was kind of shaped like one and Michael had no reservations using it as such. He skidded into the kitchen in his stocking feet, twirling around to dance erratically next to the box of doughnuts that was lying open on the kitchen table. There was a congratulatory note next to it, from his mother, that was kind of covered in glaze. It had been tossed aside, despite the hand-drawn smiley faces, in favor of actually eating the food. "WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS!"
He dropped his canister of pepper spray back on the table and picked up his half-eaten doughnut from earlier. "Of the world~" came out slightly muffled by doughnut, but Mikey was well past the point of caring. Besides it wasn't like all of his neighbors didn't know what today was. He had excitedly told them all when he'd first moved in. They weren't as friendly as his last neighbors had been, but it was a different kind of community. Everyone knew who, and where, Michael Spacey was though.
Moving had only been a part of this transition. It was one he'd wanted, though, his entire life. That kind of made it awesome. In his last apartment he'd eagerly told them he'd been accepted: that their resident cop was going to be a federal agent. They'd shared his enthusiasm, especially Gladys downstairs, an elderly woman whose husband had also been on the force. He had a bunch of cards from them over by the door, congratulating him on his new home, and his new position.
It was probably the most exciting day of his entire life.
Even better than the time that Emily gave him a pudding cup and said he was cute in fifth grade. Even better than the time he was sure he'd tanked his algebra exam but ended up getting a C on it. And, yes, even better than after-prom when he'd scored and won an inflatable giraffe he could use to whack his brother from across the room without having to get up. #winning
Michael happened a lazy glance at the electric green digital clock and almost dropped his doughnut. It was his first day and he was going to be late! He scrambled away from the table, no longer feeling quite the champion as he skidded into his bed and snagged his shoes. He shoved them onto his feet haphazardly, tied them as quickly as humanly possible, and launched himself towards the bathroom to brush his teeth.
"Agent Spacey," he repeated, through a haze of toothpaste, as he took one last look at his appearance in the mirror. "Agent Michael-" he spat out the toothpaste "-Spacey." After wasting a few seconds wiggling his eyebrows at himself in the mirror Michael raced out the door.
A few seconds later he came back for his pepper spray.
The commute wouldn't have been as long if their compound wasn't a veritable fortress. In the middle of incredible acreage. Kind of like a castle. It was unlikely he and his new partner would stay in this area. This place was where they trained the handlers and the most mature of the trackers. Almost no one stayed here. He'd seen the facilities they kept the younger ones at once. If he possessed more patience he'd love to be a trainer for a bunch of first graders. Actually, no, scratch that. He would rather not be...weirdified. Or whatever it was they did.
It was the exact time he was supposed to be there when he smashed through the entrance with a triumphant grin on his face that died as soon as he saw the expression on his Commanding Officer's face. The young man let his features fall, relaxing them into a mask, but he couldn't stop the excited twinkle in his eyes. He fell into line easily, adjusting his disheveled vest as he surveyed the rest of the people in the bullpen. Agentpen? What was this place called again?
Most of them were like him, he was pretty sure. There seemed to be two lines, one wearing handler vests, the other wearing tracker's. He peeked over at the line of trackers curiously wondering which one would be his new partner and what cool powers they'd have. He already had an impression he was going to get one with heightened combat abilities. Mostly because he sucked as a detective, and they were the ones who usually got first dibs on the sensing trackers. The really cool ones who could sense when their own kind was around.
Oh, wait, he was supposed to be paying attention...wasn't he?
One of the COs was talking. Michael tore his gaze away from the trackers, even the pretty brunette one, and turned towards the CO. She was telling them all how proud she was of them. Awwww, heartwarming. He smiled, then realized he was supposed to be all stern and serious like the other handler in front of him and dropped it awkwardly. He shifted his weight as she continued to explain about the bonding process. They would have the entire day to work together. As a pair the new handler and tracker would be put through a series of obstacles and tests. There was also pizza for lunch, he noted, and doughnuts in the breakroom. Double doughnuts? In one day? Score!
He blinked when he heard his name, glancing up at his Commanding Officer in confusion as he was told to come forward. "Handler Spacey is partnered with Tracker Opelle," he was informed. Michael nodded, his bright eyes darting to meet his new partner with a goofy smile. It was the pretty brunette from the other line. Double score!
"Hi! I'm-" Mikey's attempt at an introduction was interrupted by a throat clearing behind him. The man jumped, his eyes widening, as he skittered off to the side after his new partner. Under the sound of other names being called Michael turned back to Pheonix. "Hi! I'm Michael!" he said in an overly hushed whisper trying too hard to be quiet. He grinned at her, the picture of cheerfulness trying it's hardest to stay subdued so he wouldn't get yelled at, and stuck out a hand for her to shake. "We're gunna be partners!"
Tag: Phoenix J. Opelle Notes: Sorry it's kinda long. Still getting a feel for the character. Don't feel obligated to post nearly as much. xD |
|
|
|
Post by Phoenix J. Opelle on Jul 18, 2016 22:59:39 GMT -5
 Sleep, an event that recurs nightly where one closes their eyes and drift off into an unconscious state where the muscle relax and the nervous system is relatively inactive is an important event even for enhanced humans yet, Phoenix wasn't given the pleasure of such activity as she laid conscious the entire night while everyone else seemed to be slumbering peacefully. Of course, when morning rolled around, the female wasn't exactly in the best moods, though she couldn't express her ill-tempered mood after all, causing a scene would only bring trouble her way. Overall, insomnia was the worst, especially considering that today was when she was being paired with a handler, someone who probably has control issues and more, then likely be the cause of her death.
Literally rolling herself out of the cot she called a bed, she went about her day like it was an average day in the facility though, she might have spent a little more time on her appearance after all, it didn't take a genius to know that those in-charge would be a bit more served on appearances after all, no-one wants unkempt tracker just like a police officer didn't want an unkempt canine. If any of this was up to Phoenix, she wouldn't have bothered to take anytime out on making herself presentable, but it wasn't up to her thus, she had to make an effort or else, be punished. Once finished with making herself look presentable, she beguilingly dragged herself to breakfast where plain oatmeal seemed to be on today's menu along with an unripe orange with a glass of water, though she barely touched her food in favor of stirring around before handing off her portion of food to the tracker next to her who seemed more, then delighted to take an extra portion of food.
Perhaps it was idiotic of her to give away her breakfast, but she wasn't hungry one bit considering that her stomach seemed more focus on twisting and turning inside her body, probably attempting to jump ship and find another body to reside within, that she didn't risk giving it food. Patiently waiting for a command, it soon came from one of the superiors who directed the handful of trackers out into a different section of the facility where the trackers formed a line to await the process of getting handlers and almost all of them, like Phoenix, held an emotionless face after all, she was sure the day everyone arrived at the facility all emotions were thrown out the window.
Thirty minutes passed and slowly, another line formed just in front of where Phoenix stood with the trackers, though, the line in front was for Handlers, where she would be 'lucky' enough to be paired with one of those stern faces. Yet, when one assumed the whole introduction would start, a final face came rushing into the room that held a triumphant grin as if he had just won a gold medal in track. Needless to say, Phoenix was taken back by the mans outburst, especially when he seemed to notice the serious air within the room and changed his facial expression though, there was a slight twinkle of excitement in his eyes. Of course, he had glanced upon the trackers, probably attempting to figure out which one was going to be his, as one of the COs droned on about how she was proud of them, them being the handlers because honestly, why would she be proud of the trackers? The role was forced upon them and either they obeyed to the commands given or die.
Even so, she continued with her speech, about the 'bonding process' following today's activities where the team would go through a series of tests and obstacles followed with pizza for lunch, though Phoenix would be willing to be that the trackers to none. So, overall, today was going to be completely fantastic because she got to run around like a good little canine! With the dreadful speech completed, a name was called, and of course, it was the man who ran in late who was called first and obviously, fate tried to be funny because she was the tracker assigned to him... Out of all the trackers in the entire line, she was paired with the man who seemed downright too happy for the position of handler.
Upon their names being called, Phoenix wasted not time in stepping forward and as she went to walk towards the back of the line, she heard her handler attempt to introduce himself only to stop mid-sentence due to a throat being cleared, by whom, Phoenix didn't know nor care as she just wanted to get back in line. Followed by her handler, he attempted once more to introduce himself while names were called in the background, though it was strange as he gave his first name and even offered his hand for her to shake... She stared at the offered hand for a moment after all, handshaking between a tracker and a superior or handler in this case just wasn't a thing or so, she always thought.
A struggle formed in her mind, about whether to shake the offered hand or remain silent after all, what if it was a trap? Yet, when another moment rolled around and it seemed her handler was being genuine with his introduction, Phoenix hesitantly reached out to the offered hand. "Phoenix..."
Tag: Michael Spacey Notes: Don't worry about it~ Poor Michael... Ending up with this lame-o |
|
Agent Spacey
| Handler
| FADE
|
Post by Michael Spacey on Jul 19, 2016 20:33:36 GMT -5
She hesitated as if he was going to turn around and smack her with the hand he'd offered to shake. Michael waited patiently, his smile dimming slightly, as he wondered what sort of horrible situation they'd rescued her from to put her in the Tracker Program. He knew a lot of Enhanced lived horrible lives.That didn't matter, though. She was in a better system now, and everything would work out just fine!
His handshake was enthusiastic, if slightly overbearing, and his smile brightened again since she'd finally managed to do more than just stare at him. "Cool name!" he commented brightly. Mikey wasn't the only handler greeting his tracker, but he was certainly the one with the dumbest smile. His grin turned conspiratorial as he glanced over at the breakroom. He couldn't see the promised doughnuts from here, but FADE had yet to lie to him.
The new partners had roughly fifteen minutes to get acquainted. Their tests started at 9, and it was only 8:45. Everyone had been paired, or at least, that's what it seemed like. The droning off of voices had stopped and the COs seemed to be mingling with the new class. Michael turned towards Phoenix. "Wanna go get some doughnuts?" he asked, throwing a thumb over his shoulder towards the room that supposedly housed them.
He was totally prepared to go on an epic fifteen-minute doughnut hunt if they didn't happen to be in there, but he wouldn't drag his new partner along if she didn't want to. Or worse didn't do carbs. "You're not on any weird diets, right?" he asked as something of an afterthought. There were some Enhanced that didn't eat normal food but like...ate rocks or whatever. He hoped she didn't eat rocks. He had no idea how to season rocks.
Michael inched towards the doughnuts. Even if she wasn't going to eat one he would. "So, what can you do?" he asked conversationally. Sure, he could just read her file, but that was boring. "Fire?" he guessed. With a name like Phoenix water powers would have been kind of hilarious, though. |
|
|
|
Post by Phoenix J. Opelle on Jul 30, 2016 15:21:53 GMT -5
Eager, and slightly overbearing, the handshake was different, then she had expected after all, she thought it would have been cold, slightly formal with a hint of professionalism, but instead, she was given a handshake that one would give to a new friend. Honestly, she was perplexed, even more so, when a genuine compliant came from his mouth that her gaze couldn't remain on her partner as she glanced around the room to see if the oddity was occurring to the other trackers only to find that her handler seemed to be the only one so passionate about the situation.
Returning her gaze back towards her handler, as she didn't want to be caught staring, an offer to get some doughnuts was proposed and her handler was pointing towards the room where the doughnuts were supposed to reside within. Honestly, Phoenix couldn't recall the last time she had the pastry, though, she knew that she ate them often as a child and even when attending the dance academy as a Dunkin' Donuts was located across the street. Skipping breakfast, despite not being hungry at that point in time had been stupid because the mere mention of the food had her mind screaming to accept the offer while she felt a slight pain from her stomach which threatened to unleash a rather loud, obnoxious growl if not fed soon.
Not answering the question fast enough, Michael questioned if she was on some weird diet, which wasn't the case because one, she would love to eat some doughnuts, but two he wasn't honestly going to give her some, was he? Fearing that he would assume her silence to be a yes, she spoke up in order to clear the air that she wasn't on a weird diet and in fact, she ate normal food like any other human on the planet. "No, I'm not."
As the reply finally slipped out, she watched as Michael scoot a few inches towards the room, which caused her to move a few inches as well after all, she felt it was what she was supposed to do though it wasn't long before he was wondering what sort of enhancement she had, but before she could give out her power, he already guessed fire, which was fifty percent correct so, she gave the rest of the answer. "Fire manipulation."
|
|
Agent Spacey
| Handler
| FADE
|
Post by Michael Spacey on Aug 1, 2016 20:13:11 GMT -5
Fire manipulation? Badass. Michael gave an approving nod.
When it was obvious she was going to follow Michael picked up the pace and made a beeline for the breakroom with a bit of a bounce in his step. This was still the best day ever, and his partner was awesome! even if she was a little shy. "Phew~" the handler said, his shoulders relaxing slightly, when she told him she wasn't on a weird diet. "Good. I had a roommate in college that went on this vegan kick," he turned to make an exasperated face at Phoenix, walking backwards a few steps before slowing his pace to walk besides her. "He threw out my frozen wings stash. Said it was temptation or whatever."
Speaking of temptations the box of doughnuts sat, as promised, on the table in the breakroom. No holy light or choir of angels was required for Michael to pounce on the treasure. He flicked up the lid and gazed at the glorious dozen, minus one, set before him: glazed, powdered sugar, cinnamon, chocolate covered, chocolate covered with sprinkles, and jelly filled. A veritable treasure trove of high calorie goodness.
"Pick your poison~" he teased, shoving the box over for his new partner to pick first. The gentlemanly gesture was made less formal by the silly word choice. He picked up his own doughnut next and grinned like an idiot before shoving a third of it into his mouth. That was when he remembered he was supposed to be professional. His next few bites were smaller. Still, the doughnut was not long for this world. When he was finished he licked the icing off his fingers, because using a napkin was for people with better foresight, and considered the girl besides him.
"Excited to finally be done with training?" he asked brightly in a manner that made it obvious that he was. "I hope we get a cool first assignment. Where would you want to be stationed? Ideally~" |
|
|
|
Post by Phoenix J. Opelle on Sept 5, 2016 16:39:05 GMT -5
 An approving nod was received when Phoenix confirmed she manipulated fire, though the subject wasn't dwelled upon long as the moment Micheal knew Phoenix intended on following him to the room of promised fried cake, his pace quickened as he made a beeline towards said room, a bounce in his step as he seemed a bit too joyful at the thought of eating donuts like a child who had gotten permission to eat dessert before dinner.
Though, as the duo trotted, with Phoenix a few paces behind Micheal, he started to speak of a roommate during college who had gone on a vegan kick, something Phoenix had learned during her own times when attending college as a lot of her fellow colleges seemed to like the vegan lifestyle, a lifestyle she wasn't particularly interested in considering she had been raised on meat or well proceed meat as some would call it. Turning himself around, a look of irritation was written across his face before continuing on with the tale, speaking about how the man threw his frozen wing stash away because of 'temptations' which sounded awful... College wasn't cheap and throwing away perfectly good food when one only had a certain amount of cash to spend well that wasn't right in her books and she shook her head in disapproval.
Yet the moment was over upon reaching the destination, the box of doughnuts sat on a table where Micheal was quick to pounce upon them, like a carnivore upon seeing injured prey. The lid was flicked open, and a spread of various doughnuts ranging from cinnamon to glazed laid, waiting for someone to pick them and introduce them to their stomachs. Phoenix's stomach sent another wave of pain, demanding for her to consume at least half the box before it would stop pestering her and she bite her lip lightly wondering what sort of doughnut she would pick after Micheal, but it seemed her handler had different plans as he asked her to 'pick her poison' before presenting the box to her.
Gazing upon the 'residents', Phe selected the classical chocolate covered in sprinkles and took a bit, attempting not to scarf the doughnut down like a savage wolf. By her second bite, Micheal had figured out his chosen doughnut to consume, and scarfed a third of it down in one bite before realizing what he had done and calmed himself down on the second bit, though if it had been her past self that watched the incident, then she would have defiantly been on the floor, rolling with laughter and her own doughnut would have been forgotten in favor of clutching her stomach... Yet, that was the old Phoenix, and the new one just took a third bite of her doughnut as Micheal attempted to get the conversation flowing.
"Yeah." She admitted truthfully after all, the whole facility felt like prison or what Phoenix assumed prison was like with following the same routine each day, the only difference was what type of training that was conducted each afternoon along with the level of difficulty such as entering into more 'advance moves', then when she first started training, but it was still dull, no matter how they tried to spin it. "I don't know... I never really thought about it. You?"
|
|
Agent Spacey
| Handler
| FADE
|
Post by Michael Spacey on Oct 7, 2016 20:02:47 GMT -5
"You never thought about it?" Michael looked totally surprised. "Really?" He'd been dreaming about his assignment since Middle School. But then, she might not have always wanted to be a tracker, or she might not have possessed as wild an imagination.
"I hope we get a cool assignment. Like guarding the president! Or- or- I dunno. Saving the world from certain destruction?" he reached for another doughnut guiltlessly and took a bite. "I mean, I get that anything we do is important and saves lives and stuff even if it's not exciting...it'd just be cool to get recognition, y'know?" the man waved his doughnut vaguely towards the ceiling as though it were the stuff of legends. He brought it back down to tear off another bite and added mid-chew, "Or a pizza party. I'd be cool with a pizza party. We used to have those at the station."
His enthusiasm toned down perhaps a notch as one of the other handlers wandered in to pick up a doughnut. Michael shot the man a brilliant smile, which wan't returned, and offered a cheerful, "Morning!"
He got a noncommittal huff in response as the other handler grabbed two doughnuts and vanished back out the door. Mikey glanced from the other man's retreating back to his new partner. "Ooookaaaaay," he drew out the word looking perplexed. "Glad he's not my partner," the young Handler confided to Pheonix with a conspiratorial grin as he held up a fist for a we're 10x more awesome fistbump. |
|
