Good Morning, Sunshine

the end of my work day

~
Because these days, something is going on at any given point.
~
Nat and I got to the armory together and gathered our stuff. Her weapons of choice were knives which she stuffed away in the most impossible places. Despite the tight suit she was wearing and me knowing where they had gone I couldn't see them. She also picked up a gun. I had been briefed on kinds of guns but this knowledge just wasn't something my mind deemed valuable and therefore it stored it in the trash the second the information was aquired (along with a lot of other things).

The gun Nat picked was black and small and probably powerful. Because the widow had chosen it, you know.

I went ahead and picked up a gun like hers. I hadn't really done well with guns in training  meaning that my aim was off at all times, despite my desperate practise. I had gotten better at hand to hand combat but that wouldn't be of much use when it came to long distance fighting.

Everyone was counting on me and J fighting as a union with teeth and claw filled Jaromir doing the major fighting.

"I don't think that that would be a good idea" , chuckled the widow, reaching out and taking the gun from me.

I looked at her, confused. She laughed.

"Here" , she said, putting my gun down and picking another one up, "take this one, it'll be easier for you to handle. Stark made it for you. It does the aiming itself. And ..."

She went ahead and grabbed a little crossbow that was resting on a table nearby.

"... this. You did best with aiming while using this."

I smiled, pretty sure that I looked rather stupid. She must have been watching my training concerning the use of guns and stuff. As, while she was the one who taught me how to fight someone closeby, Clint and Stark had taken care of weapons with a farther range (and were now close to breaking point, impressed by my level of incapality).

Why would she care though?

She's a fellow warrior and wants to keep track of how people are doing who she's going to trust with her life. It only sounds reasonable, you know, threw J in, who had been walking around the room, smelling weapons in awe.

The tiger had shown a strong interest in weapons ever since he had gotten to see them. That was due to his fascination with humans. We were weak creatures in his eyes, keeping our claws, also known as nails, neatly trimmed at most times, not having anything close to a convenient predator anatomy, the strange habit of walking on two legs, weak senses and rather flat teeth but still we had managed to survive over a long period of time, taming everything we could, declaring ourselves the top of the foodchain and killing off anything that threatened us.

It's just amazing how great you guys are at compensating your weaknesses. You must have built a thing for every problem, he remarked, gently trying to paw something that looked a lot like a sword off a table.

And still we die of cancer, I send back, wandering over to where J was touching things he probably shouldn't be touching to stop him.

I like this one, can't you use it?, he asked as I took the blade, which was, in fact, a sword, from him.

"I probably can" , I chuckled, "the best thing I could do with this is cutting some food for dinner."