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Troubleshooter [IC]


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Jack whirled about, surprised that Bombshell has so handily escaped his pin and vanished from view.Gotta figure out how to sense regular people, he noted ruefully. "Figure out who we are before proving it to everyone else, huh?" he asked thoughtfully, giving the curvaceous blonde a wry grin. "Makes a lot of sense, actually. Then again, we still talking about me and mine, or Miss 'Hi-I'm-a-supervillain-only-no-I'm-not'?" Bowing low and with a sweeping arm, the swashbuckler gestured to the West End's rooftops. "Anywhere you can go, I'll follow, gorgeous."

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"Supervillian? Flatterer. I'm afraid I never made that auspicious circle. Never actually been willing to dangle loved ones dramatically over ledges or had nearly enough minions, I'm afraid. I prefer world class thief, personally, but when I say it, it sounds like bragging." Bombshell grinned and then added with a drawl, "Ex-thief, of course."

She nimbly bounced back down to where Jack was although not within arm's reach. "Of course, we have some similarities. In my case, it's more of a mid-immortality-crisis than the growing pains of youth. Still, its much easier to sell the world on something when you know what that something is. First rule of the spy game. Well, second rule at least."

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"So now you restrict yourself to just stealing hearts, huh?" Jack said with a smirk, folding his arms. Flirting and stunning looks aside, the fencer decided he actually rather liked Bombshell, criminal past not withstanding. He certainly wasn't a fan of thievery as a rule, but it didn't raise his ire anywhere near as badly as violent transgressions would have. The blonde had a playful directness to her that he found refreshing after all the walking on eggshells he'd been forced into lately. One thing she'd said stuck in his brain, however. "Wait, mid-what-in-the-who-now?"

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Bombshell rocked back on her heels and let out another one of those husky laughs. She ennunciated clearly, her accent becoming a bit more pronounced as she gave him a flourish and a bow. "Mid-immortality-crisis. I picked up this little aversion to aging during the war and I've been consigned to youthful good looks ever since. I hope you're not one of those sorry lads afraid of an older woman. Really, as far as immortals go, I'm just a babe in the woods."

She grinned and straightened, "However, any old lady jokes and I'll be most displeased."

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After a pause to determine if she was being serious or not, Jack broke out if hearty laughter. Like his speaking voice, it has a rich, smooth quality with a undertone of wryness. "Dios, I love this town," he breathed through a broad grin. He held up his hands in a show of surrender. "No worries, I'm a big advocate of, ah, experience. I'd have a pretty hard time thinking of you as an 'old lady', regardless." The swordsman shrugged. "What can I say? No imagination."

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"Oh, I rather doubt that," Talya murmured with a smirk. She reached up to lace her hands behind her head, rocking lightly from one foot to another. As if her mind was made up, she grinned suddenly and nodded to herself, "I think I like you, Jack of all Blades. Now, lets see... a race! I do love my games but they aren't any fun without stakes. If you win and, honestly, I'd give you the long odds... what would you want?"

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"I do aim to please. Now, what do I want? Well." Jack made a great show of pondering the question. "I've already got my health, my looks and the company of a beautiful woman, so I'm pretty much set." The fencer rubbed the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. "Tell you what, I win, you let me buy you dinner. I know a nice place that has a rooftop patio and doesn't make a big deal out of people ordering in masks."

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Bombshell laughed and touched the delicate shape of her mask with gloved fingertips. "Alright. Fair enough. Now, if I win, you let me drag you to a museum and you can't give me any suspicious looks that I might have lapsed into old habits. Terms set, now for the game itself."

She turned around and pointed to the highest building in West End. "I'm going towards that. There's a spire on top that I'll try to get my gloved hand on. If you can stop me before I get there, the match is yours. I touch it before you touch me and the game is mine. Sound fair?"

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"Well, kinda sounds like I win either way," Jack mused, "which, come to think of it, is my favourite kind of stakes." Making a bit of a show of stretching, his black, skintight body suit revealing well defined musculature between the flaps of his heavy greatcoat. The swashbuckler made and 'after you' gesture and, despite his relaxed posture, prepared to launch into motion.

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With one last light laugh and a running start, Bombshell dove off the building with absolute glee. She landed nimbly on one laundry line that ran from one building to the next and slid down it, only to flip at the last second and land on a ledge. Barely pausing, she was off again, flipping and tumbling her way from one rooftop to the next, never pausing to second guess herself or hesitate as she dodged her way around obstacles in a truly hither and yon path that Jack of all Blades only understood being a premier acrobat himself. You took your handholds where you could find them, after all.

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Jack was moving before Bombshell had even made it off of the rooftop, following her over the side of the building with a tight somersault. For the laundry line he leapt to take hold of a windowsill opposite the ledge the blonde acrobat had let down upon, leveraging his one-handed grip to flip himself forward. Kicking off the wall mid-jump, the swashbuckler sent himself soaring across the alleyway, arms outstretched and back to the ground, before swinging on a fire escape to change the direction of his flight. He kept himself just a half step behind the ex-thief, zig-zagging back and forth across her trail with his own free running spectacle, a broad grin fixed to his masked face.

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Bombshell could have vanished on him, but she didn't. As skewed as her morals were sometimes, she'd always stuck to the rules of any of her games once since down. Honor among thieves and all that. She flew only a few steps ahead of him, leaping and twisting to sail across the rooftops. Her soft soled boots only made a whisper of sound as she pelted out across the next rooftop. It was when the gap between the buildings was just a little to large to make easily that she lost her slim lead as she had to twist mid leap to head for the nearest fire escape instead of sailing clear across the chasm. She caught the ladder and hauled herself up onto some stranger's balcony.

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Jack found himself pushing himself to his limits to keep up with Bombshell's acrobatics, making leaps and split second course corrections he normally would have hesitated to attempt. Moreover, he had a nagging suspicion that the blonde was holding back. Or else she just makes it look that easy. He was able to leverage his greater upper body strength to heave himself up onto the balcony a slit second before she did, placing himself between the ex-thief and the race's goal, flashing a toothy grin as he waited for her next move.

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The bright blue eyes behind her mask slid left and right, checking all of the escape routes before she rested her hands back on the railing behind her. Talya was too out of breath from the hectic race or she would have been laughing from a thrillseeker's sheer joy. She hadn't been left with any real options. Jack would beat her at the attempt to scrabble up the wall and backtracking would only prolong a loss as she knew once ahead of her, the race was all but over. Which left only one option.

Her smile flashed and then she leapt for the edge of the balcony and the drop to the street below.

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"Hey!" Jack yelped involuntarily as he bounded forward, diving over the side of the balcony after Bombshell. His grapple was already in his hand as his feet pushed off into the air, and he fired the line back the way he'd come without looking, where it latched onto the outcropping, controlling his descent. "Why do women keep doing that around me?" he groused.

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She flipped off the balcony and tumbled through the air. Jack hadn't really seen anything quite like it as she seemed to flip towards the building and then skidded her feet down the brick side before flipping away and then back again building, slowing her descent without even needing a hand hold. How she didn't smack on some sort of outcropping was really anyone's guess. It did mean that his direct way down was much, much faster.

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Jack touched down on the street several seconds before Bombshell, and greeted her with crossed arms. "Dios, woman, give a guy some warning before you pull that, would ya?" A sharp exhalation blew a few stands of dark hair from in front of his mask. "I was thinking a nice fettuccine with pesto, maybe a good wine, not street pizza." After a brief moment, he admitted with a grin despite himself, "That was actually pretty cool, though. How'd you do that vertical slide thing?"

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"I never give warnings," Bombshell smiled at him, entirely unrepentant from her expression, "It detracts from the pathos of the entire situation. I love Italian. Not too much wine. One should never rappel drunk or it leads to embarrassing incidents down the road."

She straightened from the crouch she'd landed in and strolled on over to Jack with easy grace. Bombshell shrugged at his question, "It's harder in heels. It's just using the friction on the wall to slow your velocity. It's a trick I learned from the little man who taught me the ins and outs of illicit acrobatics. I broke my arm the first time I tried it so I suggest excessive floor pads if you decide to attempt it."

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"See, and I've always said never rappel sober," Jack quipped nonchalantly. That was patently untrue, naturally; the fencer wasn't much of a drinker, his physical prowess being the result of hard training and conscientious living, but there was no reason he couldn't make it look easy. "Bloody gravity, amirite?" he commented in reply to her explanation of the wall sliding trick. "Gonna have to try that one out, definitely..."

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"I'll be your spotter, anytime." Bombshell said with a sly smile and then gestured to the sky line, "So, is it going to be your line or mine? I rather think you should be the one to 'drive'. You know where we're going. Although, I can't say that's ever stopped me before."

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Though he hid it well, Jack was caught off guard for a brief moment. Grapple line! She means the- right. Yes. Pulling his grapple back out of his coat, the swashbuckler made a half bow and extended and arm to Bombshell. "Your chariot et cetera, et cetera milady forsooth," he offered, exaggerating his already smooth voice and playing up his slight accent.

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