The others began to assemble for the run. There was Belasy and Izkry-Izkry did all the talking for Belasy, as far as Maria could tell-as well as Jonathan, a scholarly Mormon man; Oscar, an irritating young man from Spain; Kaneda, who Maria knew to be half-German and half-Japanese, which was quite unfortunate, given the current state of the world; Anton, from France; and last but not least, Zhanna, the third woman of the group.

And of course, there was Captain Stevens. He was an annoyingly righteous little holier-than-thou goody two-shoes who would have done anything for a commanding officer. Maria thought very little of him, if she was perfectly honest with herself.

Maria was aware that she stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the group of gifted individuals. Aside from being a woman, she was also the only woman who hadn't received any formal combat training and the only woman who had no combat experience, though she believed herself to be quite adept with slender hairpin daggers or letter-openers, and one could say that the gang violence of Chicago was considered a type of warfare. But having a knack with blades meant next to nothing against an enemy armed with machine guns or grenades. Why, she asked herself for the umpteenth time, am I here again? Logically, is there anything I can do on a battlefield that will help these people at all? Captain Stevens gave Oscar a lecture about the importance of running and training, and Maria resisted the urge to roll her eyes skyward.

Jonathan made some remark to Oscar about looking bad in front of the women, and Oscar responded to his light teasing as all men do. Maria did not deign to give them a reply. She surveyed the rest of the group coolly, her eyes sharp and cold. The captain proposed a race, some sort of competition to get the others to run faster-and Maria ignored it. Like hell I'm going to run, she thought shortly, setting off in the direction of the mountain at a leisurely pace. Walking six miles up and down a mountain was most certainly not an enjoyable experience, especially in the Georgia humidity (and encroaching heat), but Maria wasn't about to run that entire distance, either.

What if, she mused, I simply walk up to that captain and kiss him on the lips. Oh, for the love of God, how wonderful would that be? Maria sighed inwardly. Doing that, unfortunately, would not solve any of her problems. Her father was still alive, for one, and Maria needed a way to kill him before she moved on with anything in her life. Maybe I'll go to New Orleans, she thought idly. Marry a rich southerner and give birth to a daughter before murdering him in his sleep and running off with his fortune. Then, I'll go back to New York. I'll have to teach my daughter our ways, of course, but that won't be a problem. Maria mentally winced. She was already twenty-nine, and the daughter had to come before she was thirty-five. The clock was ticking.

In any case, Maria knew what she wanted-money, power, revenge, and a good life for her daughter. Maria had decided long ago that her daughter wasn't going to put up with the shit that she did. Her daughter wasn't going to sell herself on the streets just to get by. Of course, Maria would tell her daughter everything she needed to know about her abilities, but damn it all, her daughter was going to have a good life. Adolf Hitler could go to hell.

Had it been anyone else boasting, Izkry would have returned a wisecrack of his own. For Oscar he remained silent. But when Kaneda suggested meeting up during their free time, he readily agreed. "I will be there. And so will Bel -- even if I must drag her." He grinned at his sister's glower, refusing to let her discourage him. The mention of breaking the captain's record got a huff of breath that was just this side of a snort. None of them had anything like super speed or endurance. There was no way -- certainly not without /really/ cheating. And in the end, the run was about building up their bodies.

And then Anton was off, without even waiting to be dismissed. Kaneda followed with a holler, and Izkry's eyebrows nearly vanished under his hat. Maybe someone would break that crazy record after all. His smile widened, and he actually laughed, slapping Johnathan on the shoulder as he broke into a jog himself. The captain hadn't dismissed them, no, but he'd come pretty close, and he wasn't objecting. Belasý figured the same, and she quickly fell into a steady rhythm, counting her footfalls and breathing in time with them. One of her favorite songs had the perfect tempo for a long run, and she sang the tune in her head.

The siblings started off together, more or less with the others for the moment. Zhanna's farewell made Izkry chuckle. He didn't speak Russian but he could recognize a word or two from hearing Bel practice. "Goodbye? Нет, not goodbye yet!"

Belasý could see the coward already using his power to make things easier. She didn't approve at all. This was about strength and stamina, pushing themselves so they improved. Taking the easy way out was...well, it was cheating. The Japanese man -- only half, he'd said, but he looked like someone from the far east -- was using his power too, but there was actually half a chance of him beating the captain's incredible record. She wasn't certain how she felt about that. On the one hand, it defeated the purpose of the run. On the other, they had been challenged, and /maybe/ that was worth it -- but only if it would really make a difference. And then there were those who just lacked any sort of speed or endurance. Maria was one of them. Johnathan she wasn't sure about, but given his disposition she suspected he did it partly to help those in trouble.

Despite their training, she was not sure how confident she was in their skills as a team. Not everyone even wanted to be there. She knew there were countries where military service was not required, and that sometimes they changed that if there was a war, but this was beyond even what she would expect of someone who had been drafted. And of course the Spaniard had turned tail and fled leaving his team to perish once already. If she'd had any say in the matter, he wouldn't even have been considered for this one.

In-two-three out-two, in-two-three out-two. Focusing on her rhythm and the old melody Belasý put aside other thoughts for the moment and concentrated on the climb.

---

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---

Anton had gotten a fair head start before the others behind him, and so he enjoyed the view of the rising mountain before him while he could. It was a true wonder of nature to the former French farmboy who grew up in northern France. There he had been surrounded by barn roofs, wind mills and the occational church spire, but it was nothing when compared to Mount Curahee. Sure, he had seen mountains from his cockpit before, but beholding it from the very slope of it made him feel a sense of insignificance, though not in a bad way.

His sole view of the mountain was soon disturbed by the arrival of a very certain Asian man. Kaneda Renner was his name, or at least what he called himself. Anton thought he had heard that Kaneda was half Japanese and half German. Great, what could possibly go wrong with a man like that? Anton found himself think as he passed him. They had exchanged words sparsely before, though his first-impressions of the half-Asian was better than expected. Having neither saluted Hitler or shouted 'Banzai' was a good sign for him. But he still preferred to talk to the man as little as possible. He was after all a man decentant of both those who invaded his homeland and of those who invaded France's colonies.

Behind him he could hear the fastening footsteps of his other teammates, especially the voices of Oscar the Spaniard and Zhanna the Russian. At least he thought she was Russian. More surprisingly she was there with them and not fighting with her compatriots at the now named Eastern Front. But for her Anton could have a little respect, for the two of them knew how it was for their homelands to be invaded by the fascist Germans. Not that he understood a darned word of her Russian.

Anton was in no rush to reach the top first, he had simply begun to jog before them. He had no intentions of using his powers to his own advantage. Not that he could, his skills with electricity and such made him no better at running. But he didn't mind, the jogging was refreshing to him as well as reminding him of the same type of training back home. So he just let the others jog past him if they were quicker, he was aiming at the long-goal of getting up and down without a break.

Kaneda made it to the base of Currahee with ease, only having to use his legs a couple times to push him where he wanted to be, he looked up at the mountain that awaited him. The record was easily in sight and he was going to get it, at least then he would at have something that would come out of this that would have his name on something other than a tombstone.

Again he increased the density of his legs and launched himself up, he kept his legs dense as he jumped from rock to rock, in a matter of a couple minutes he had made it to the top. He didn't give himself a chance to look, he quickly jumped down making his body increase in density so that his fall speed was increased, when he was a metre away from the bottom he made himself as light as air and landed softly on the ground, he then made his legs once again become increased in density and thrusted himself back towards the finish line. As he went he passed by the others and made note of where they were. He continued on until he was back at the barracks.

"I think that's a new record sir, I think about 10 minutes tops wouldn't you say?" he joked as he saluted the captain, "now I can join the others and enjoy my run, thanks for the incentive boss." He said before the captain could say anything and lanuched himself back to where he saw the others. He caught up to the group consisting of the siblings Izkry and Belasy, Oscar, with Jonathan and Maria behind them. He changed back to his normal density again and stumbled a little bit before going into a jog at the pace the front of the group were at.

"Hello, mind if I join you guys? I think I got the record, but in order to feel like I actually did something I feel that it would be wise for me to actually do the run the captain intended." He said as he kept pace with them, "so, I know that you might not want to talk but things like running is always boring and I believe that knowledge is sometimes the best weapon that we have as well as teamwork..." Kaneda paused for a second, and looked at the path, he didn't know how they would respond to his questions but felt that it needed to be asked. He lifted his head back up and looked at Izkry, Belasy and Oscar. "...What I am asking is what did you witness over with the British team? What powers did the Germans supers have at the time? Are they really much more prepared then you guys were than and we are now? Just remember you don't have to answer me and we can talk about something else and at some point we will be briefed. But I would like to hear it from my teammates who were actually there."

He then became quiet and awaited their response.

@shylarah @MegaOscarPwn

Óscar just sighed as he saw Kaneda start to jump down from the top; why even bother? I mean, sure, training is always good and blah blah blah, but without an incentive, again, why bother? He wasn't the kind of guy that did stuff for "himself" or because it was morally good or bad, he thought about the things he had to give up and the things he could earn. For example, he would have to run up the fucking mountain, get tired and more than likely get an asthma attack...for nothing. The Spaniard then looked back as he saw María, not really jogging "Hell, she must either be a pija or even more lazy than I am..." he thought to himself.

Trying to mumble a song, or at least reproduce it on his head, was what he used to do when the PE teacher made the whole class take the Cooper test from time to time. He would always try to energize himself with some swing, you know, Benny Goodman and maybe even some Jazz from Bennie Moten. If he had been born in Germany, the Hitlerjugend would have probably beaten him up like they used to do with the Swingjugend, or Swing Kids. Óscar started to mumble some songs, his jogging starting to go at a faster rhythm and a faster pace, but Kaneda started to talk and kinda ruined it all.

Moving one of his hands to wave at him, he spoke up, his breathing getting slightly interrupted "Well pal, the Germans weren't the problem...the equipo was, who the hell thinks that sending a group of recruits into Axis territory was a good idea? I mean, sure, we have superpowers, but those can't stop bullets." He then made a stop, getting his breathing under control and speaking up once again "I survived because I deserted, I ain't going to deny it, I chose vida over certain death. Our whole squad got killed and I don't even know how these two got out alive..." He looked at the siblings, smirking as he winked at them, looking back at Kaneda "But don't worry compañero, I'm sure we'll be fine, this team is much better and we have even better training..."

Belasy adjusted her opinion of Kaneda upwards, favoring his choice with a faint smile that wasn't even turned in his direction. "Sure thing," Izkry answered aloud, grinning widely. "Well done on that record. Certainly none of us were going to get it."

The question was one Izkry had honestly expected to come much sooner. He glanced at Bel -- she'd taken the failure of that team hard, despite knowing it was the likely outcome. "Well...most of the Hydragruppen we met died in combat. Bel and I, we didn't see many of them up close. She is a good sniper, you see, so we work better at a distance. One looked to be breathing fire, and another didn't seem to get injured much, but other than that, I couldn't say." He spoke with the words spaced neatly into his breathing rhythm. It was early enough in the run that it wasn't an issue yet to talk.

Oscar mentioned the preparation, and as much as he disliked the guy Izkry had to nod. "That team had very little training. Some barely even knew how to shoot a gun. We had no teambuilding beforehand -- that one is important in particular. You--" he glared at Oscar "--do not use survival as an excuse for desertion. You abandoned your team. If you aren't going to fight you damn well desert /before/ the battle. Don't leave your team counting on you if you can't pull through!" The words came out far more sharply than he intended, but the young man didn't care. "We survived because we had each other, because we fought smart. And not even because we weren't in the thick of things. One of the others survived the fight but died to infection after. The ones that killed everyone weren't even supersoldiers. They were regular men who knew how to fight as a team. But a coward like you wouldn't understand that, would he?!"

Izkry stopped. He was getting worked up, and not breathing right -- dangerous in a long run. When he had his cool again he continued in a lower voice. "This team is better, but still we have issues. Most of the Hydragruppen, they must have been new, and the Westminster folk, we were lucky. There is a training program to take those with powers and train them as soldiers from childhood. I would not be surprised if most Nazi supers are combat experts. We will /need/ teamwork to survive. And we cannot trust Oscar not to betray us again. He should not be here."

The team ran up and down the Currahee as usual, and David went to Colonel Clarke's office to see if the man himself was there. Clarke had been an intelligence officer, centering on HUMINT, or human intelligence. He had been assigned to the OSS as a contact between the Task Force and the higher ups. An experienced and mysterious man, he was a career officer, who had always something up in his sleeve, and that didn't mean a joker on a officers' poker night every now and then. David had joined them a few times, but he hadn't enjoyed playing for cash.

David knocked to Clarke's door. No answer. He knocked a second time, and again he was met with silence. David tried the door, and it opened. It wasn't Clarke's way to leave it open. David entered the office. It was empty and untouched. It seemed Clarke had left for an errand in a hurry.

Well, I'll see him later, then, David thought. He took a glance at the office, and it was simple. A desk, a couple chairs, a map of northern Georgia and Camp Toccoa. There was a bookshelf, with all kinds of books, a few even in German. David saw the Achtung - Panzer! and Infantrie Greift An.

David left the office, walking to his own office in their own barracks. It had a similar floorplan and about the same size as Clarke's. But there was a small safe. David had the prize for Private Renner. David hadn't ordered them to use their powers, but then again, he had tutored one thing into their heads: use your brains, or at least try. Renner seemed like a potential NCO, or at least to David, but there was the higher ups.

David sat down by his desk and shuffled his papers, organizing them into piles. He wasn't the tidiest of officers when it came to his desk, but he got the done. It had been different in North Africa with the SAS; they hadn't had any desks or formal dresses, only missions, their wit and equipment.

He tidied up his desk, and it took him some time. When he was finished, he went back outside, abd saw that the team was running back from the Currahee. As the first ones came, David ordered them to change back to their normal service uniforms and assemble at the front of the barracks.

"And get ready for lunch! It is a spaghetti day, I hear", David added.

Johnathan had made a promise to himself that he would be matching the pace of the last person traveling in the job; Partly to try and encourage them to keep going while privately it was to ensure that nobody fell behind during the course of the jog. It was a promise that he kept, through he couldn't help but notice the pace that Maria was going was... well, little more then a walk. After a few moments had passed, he decided to start a conversation up. "I can't help but feel that you're not taking this whole exercise seriously. Something on your mind?"
@ayzrules

(To be continued over PM)

...............................................................

Standing at attention at the end of the run, Johnathan offered the Captain a respectful salute before breaking off to go and get changed without a word. He would be in front of the barracks on time if nothing else.

Kaneda acknowledged both Oscar and Izkry with a nod both of their responses gave him some insight as to what they could be facing in the future as well as some more insight into what kind of team dynamic was there. He figured that the Nazis would be able to train these supers since they were kids, when you have indoctrination schools all over the country there is probably more than enough dedicated kids willing to partake in the program to "further evolve the Arian nation." Kaneda frowned in frustration, kids that didn't even know what was right from wrong, brainwashed to believe in the Nazi cause, it made him sick.

"Fucking Nazis, they'll pay for what they have done. I hope that we get that chance, for the friends that you lost over there and the suffering you three must have endured. Oscar, I know that these two are being hard on you, most would understand why, but you came back here to train with us. That means something, I hope you get the chance to prove yourself this time around." He said, whether Oscar took it as a compliment was up to him. He kept up the pace with Izkry until the run was complete, if they made small talk he would converse, but otherwise he understood the necessity to keep a pace going in ones mind and mostly focused on completing the run.

When he crossed back to the captain he let out a huge breath, the strain of his muscles felt good he placed his hands on his knees as sweat poured over him. "Ah, much more fulfilling the second time around, that was a good run, can't wait to do it again captain." He said as he breathed heavily. He heard the orders to get into their normal service uniforms, Kaneda waited for everyone else to get back from the run before he himself saluted the captain and got washed and into uniform before making his way back outside to hear that they were having spaghetti for lunch. He licked his lips, the perfect meal to compliment the run, he thought.

Belasý finished the Currahee in just over forty minutes, a personal best. Zhanna was quicker but not by much, and the older soldier had the Russian in sight for most of the run. She closed some of the gap with her usual sprint over the last hundred meters or so. This was training, not combat, and Bel felt it was important to be able to push herself even when worn out. Sprinting the end of the run trained her body to reach for her deepest reserves. She pushed her pace for the run, not so fast that she'd collapse but enough that it wore her out, and the last push invariably left her breathless.

But she didn't get to sit down. Combat didn't take a break just because you were tired, and flopping down after exercise was bad for you anyhow. Instead she slowed to a walk and kept moving until her heartbeat was slowed to a reasonable rate. The captain told the two ladies to get changed and meet up again. By then she could see Izkry and a few of the others jogging in, though it'd be a couple minutes before they were done yet. She gave Captain Stevens a brisk salute and turned to head in.

Once again it took her little time to be ready, and she didn't dawdle. Her brother and the ones he was running with were just jogging up, and she lifted her gaze long enough to meet his before looking away again, tilting her head towards the baracks long enough to let him know what was expected.

---

Izkry was winded by the time he dropped to a walk. He was fit, but six miles was a long way and he didn't have the personal discipline of his sister, nor the drive to improve. He'd never been able to match her, and he'd always been a little lazy.

He rather missed the luxury of laziness just then. "Looks like...changing...then back here," he told the other between deep breaths. He too knew better than to stop all at once, and he offered Kaneda a hand as he paced a little. "Was good to talk. And again, well done on the new record. Don't think anyone will break it, not for a while." The young man laughed breathlessly, shaking his head with a smile. If he could take a motorcycle or something, he /might/ be able to beat the insane record. Maybe. If there were decent roads that didn't have too many hairpin turns...yeah, no, that record would be staying for a while.

It wasn't that bad of a climb, compared to the physical activity Zhanna was used to. Not easy enough that she could call the Americans soft or lightweight, of course, but she was fairly certain that the propaganda being written about this team would be saying that anyway. That's how it usually worked with the capitalists.

Either way, without anyone to talk to besides the Spaniard who was busy harassing the German siblings, it gave Zhanna the excuse to focus on the run and power on through, hovering at the front of the pack if you ignored the Canadian, Kaneda (she had to start remembering them by name sometime), the little cheater. Of course some would call it a creative use of their abilities, but Zhanna still felt that Zhanna performing a feat on her own meant much more then Kaneda using his powers to do the same thing. Kaneda was handed what Zhanna had to work for, and it's the blood and sweat of honest work that makes it worthwhile.

Plus, she liked her own powers better anyway.

Before Zhanna knew it though the trek up and down the Currahee was over, and Zhanna felt pretty damn good about it. A good workout mixed with a reaffirmation of your own hard work will do that. Shadowboxing in place after finishing her run, a habit she picked up back at university, she wondered if she could get away with a second run up the mountain before the Captain ordered them to get in uniform and prepare for lunch. "Spaghetti... she sounded out as she considered the unfamiliar dish. It sounded Italian, a bit of an odd choice considering who the Italians happened to be friends with at the moment. They could just call it something else, like...liberty noodles? No that was just stupid, Zhanna decided. Unfortunate implications aside, the metal bending Russian quickly and efficiently retreated to the barracks after the orders were given, reappearing at the barracks in her uniform complete with all her polished medals and insignias.

"Oh yeah, sure, I should have deserted way before going into France...but I was forced!" he yelled back at the siblings, closing his eyes and turning back to the track, still running up "You have to understand, I didn't want to die and I didn't like working with complete strangers." He gave a cold gaze to Kaneda and the two germans, grumbling under his breath "I prefer going in solo" he whispered, before the water around his head instantly boiled off, leaving a trail of steam as he headed up the mountain, going slightly faster than the three of them.

"Now that I've said that, I can't stay near them, come on Óscar..." he told himself, pushing his body to his limits in an attempt to make as much distance as he could from the group itself. Let's admit it, he was fit and taller than the two siblings, so it would be strange if he didn't outrun them up the Currahee. Ultimately, the German lass went past himself in a sprint near the finish to the top "For fuck's sake..." he thought, reaching the top as he sat on one of the rocks of it, admiring the view.

Instead of running downhill again, he opted for a quick shortcut down the mountain itself, having to slide down numerous small hills but ultimately reaching the bottom of the Currahee with a smile...and covered in dirt. "Oh jeez, spaghetti? I hope it's boiled this time" he then started to walk to the barracks to change clothing, passing by some guards which he greeted "Hey John, how's the wife?" he told a Cadet "Not bad Guijarro, she sent me some letters a few days ago". Oh man, the love, something he had long lost when these fuckheads made him join this shitty superpowered group.

Going into his own locker, he started to fiddle with his luggage...which consisted on some comics featuring Batman, Superman, and Green Lantern "Hmph, not bad..." he said, before starting to undress himself, he saw Kaneda enter the barracks and greeted him with a nod and a "Hey", as he stuffed himself into the service pants "Ugh man, why do they have to make these putos pants so tight?" He chuckled, trying to break the ice and grasping one of the comics from his locker, putting it inside one of his jacket pockets "C'mon, we have wet noodles to eat..."

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The others kept on jogging or running past him, especially Kaneda who in the blink of an eye had presumably broken the record two-fold, and was even going at it again! Anton would have chuckled and congratulated the Asian for his feat, but firstly he still didn't trust the Asian. Secondly, there was already too much talking going on. No, not talking; arguing and harassing. While Anton was far from being close to the others, he could still hear bits and pieces of the conversation.

He was not going to like Oscar any time soon.

Anton took his time in running up and down the mountain. By the time he had come back down to the barracks, he was sweating like a pig and panting like a dog. He heard his heart pounding in his ears, but he didn't fall down on his knees. Oh no, he was too proud to do that. He had gotten up and down in a respectable time after all, without cheating! And as soon as they had gotten down, Captain David announced what was waiting for them in the cantina; spaghetti. "Let me guess. It is not proper Napolitanian spaghetti?" Anton asked no one in particular as he made his way inside the barracks to change. If there was one thing he didn't like about America, it was their strange taste of food. Or rather, they strange way of stealing other nation's food and making it their own, only worse.

They made it so that people like you could complain about something. Merde, Oscar, do you do anything except complaining?

(collab with @Bright_Ops )

Maria continued to all but walk as the others sped ahead, her eyes critically washing over each and every one of her "teammates" (teammates. Haha. Very funny.) as they went. Kaneda was using his powers, not that Maria cared, though it was interesting seeing them being put into action. He was irritating, though. All that bullshit he talked about becoming a team and working together and everything. He was such a pretentious little goody-goody, very much like the captain himself. Belasy and Zhanna were the second-fastest, out of all the men, which made Maria smile slightly. She was sure some of those fragile masculine egos were collapsing under the very thought of it; women being more capable then them? What would they ever do?

Of course, Maria had no way of telling if that was what they were truly thinking, since everyone was so much ahead of her, but that's the reaction she got whenever one of her girls bested one of her father's gangsters at anything, really. It was quite amusing that they should think that women were not just as, or even more, capable of killing.

Maria's relative solitude and her title as the single slowest person was broken when the religious doctor, Johnathan something-or-the-other, drew up alongside her. Maria had never tried to get to know any of the others, least of all Johnathan. As a general rule, she was extremely opposed to organized religion-something about women being regarded as "less" than men didn't sit right with her. But, nevertheless, she wasn't going to purposefully antagonize anybody. Perhaps they would be useful later on.

"I can't help but feel that you're not taking this whole exercise seriously. Something on your mind?" he asked, and Maria spared him a glance, trying to decide how to reply. I could be scathingly sarcastic, though I feel that strategy would only serve to make him redouble his efforts rather than scare him off. I could act like he was a client, but he's not important enough for that kind of effort. What a dilemma.

In the end, Maria decided that maybe, just this once, she would tell him the truth-partially.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Sweating is unattractive," Maria stated simply, turning slightly to face him and tilting her head to the side. She arched an eyebrow, daring him to contradict her. She didn't mention why she was so concerned about being 'unattractive'-let him think she was shallow, for all she cared. Maria didn't want to tell him her life story.

If he was perfectly honest with himself, Johnathan hadn't actually been expecting an answer like that... Truthfully he didn't actually know what he was expecting her to say, but at least she was willing to talk to him which was a start. "I see... I take it that you were drafted into this project then rather then volunteered?"

Maria pursed her lips slightly. "You could say that," she answered, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. She wrinkled her nose as she caught sight of a couple split ends. Wonderful. Just wonderful, she thought sourly, before coolly glancing back up at Johnathan.

It was clear that she was willing to talk... at least in the sense that she would answer questions with as little fuss as possible, but it was clear she wasn't interested in a dialog. Even as the two of them walked, Johnathan quickly decided to try a new topic. "Forgive me for not knowing, but I'm curious... how exactly does your power work? I don't think I've ever heard you explain it before."

Maria debated whether or not she should tell Johnathan for a moment, then decided that really, he would find out later anyway, so there was no point in delaying if he was truly so interested. "I...how do I explain? Like this," she answered, reaching out and touching his bare hand, waiting for a minute before releasing him-just enough time for him to start feeling the intoxicating effects of the strange poison secreted through her skin, but not long enough to do him any lasting damage. "With my lips, too, though more deadly," she told him blandly.

As she had reached out to take his hand, Johnathan had been slightly confused but had allowed it, trusting that she merely wanted to show him what she could do. It was... weird. It wasn't something you would normally notice at first, but as the seconds wore on he found his head growing... heavy. Very heavy. His eyelids grew heavy as well, barely able to stay open as his footsteps grew more... difficult.

Despite how fuzzy the world had gotten, as he turned to look at Maria his heart skipped a beat; He had known that she had been a beautiful woman but how could he have been so blind to her?! She was... She was...

As she let go of his hand, his brain seemed to freeze up, unsure of what was going on as he started to feel a brisk chill run through his veins; Or at least it felt that way after the comforting warmth that had been pumping through them moments before. Bringing his hand to cover his eyes to shake his head, he opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it again as he fought to get his brain back in order.

Maria watched his reaction with a mild, detached sort of interest. It had been a while since she'd used her powers on someone as...morally righteous, and, ah, inexperienced, as Johnathan. Those aren't the type of people that Alessandro normally wanted dead, she mused idly to herself. She turned back to face the path in front of them once more, seeing no need to continue the conversation if Johnathan had nothing to say.

Looking down at himself as his brain started to clear, Johnathan got a reading he hadn't been expecting to see; Some kind of substance that shouldn't have been there was running through his body, through from the looks of it his system was already breaking it down to the point were it wouldn't be a threat to him and so he could filter it out naturally without having to worry about any outside imput on his behalf.

She had poisoned him, pure and simple.

Once he felt confident enough that it had been broken down enough for him to start moving again, he quickly caught back up to her on slightly unsteady feet as he simply muttered "That... is a dangerous curse you have. When did you recieve it?"

Maria pressed her lips together. She didn't view it as a curse, but she didn't particularly care what others wanted to call her ability. "As long as satin gloves remain in fashion, there's no need to worry, though the United States Armed Forces does not seem to be terribly concerned," she told him archly. "Besides, that won't kill you." Maria considered the next part of his question and tried to remember. "When I was around ten or so, I believe," she said guardedly, narrowing her eyes slightly. "And I believe it is your turn to volunteer some information now, Mr. Harker, is it not? It's only fair."

Nodding his head a little, he had to concede that she had a fair point. They were after all part of a team so it was only fair that he answered her questions about him in kind. There was however a small voice of concern in the back of his mind, considering what exactly this invasion of his body by her dangerous ability would actually be considered in the eyes of the lord; After all, while he -had- accepted it willingly he hadn't know its true nature...

He would have to pray on the matter later. Maybe ask a priest after the Sunday service if he could...

"Only fair. We'll take it in turns with you starting with your question?" He offered politely.

Maria nodded. "Fine. What is your special ability?" she asked. It was the only thing she cared about, really, but if having a prolonged conversation about their pasts was what Johnathan wanted, Maria didn't care. So long as certain cans of worms remained firmly shut.

A decent question to ask, since he had never really had the chance to show off the more flashy aspect of it to anyone. Offering a small smile he looked her over, he made a small 'hmm' noise before nodding his head. "Well for starters you're in perfect health, so whatever is producing the poison isn't also killing you so at least that's working in your favor."

Giving her a moment to absorb this, he quickly got to the point. "I have the ability to look at a person and... well, see what's wrong with them and I get... well, a strong complusion on how to properly treat them. What injuries they have, what illnesses they are stricken by... even as it turns out what poisons they have running through their body, through it doesn't show up when I look at you..." Shaking his head a little, he shrugged as he suggested "Maybe because it's natural to you and isn't actually harmful?"

"I see," responded Maria carefully. That makes sense, she thought in regards to Johnathan's evaluation of her poison. Ma always said that we were immune to all poisons, natural or man-made. It would make sense that we're immune to our own, too. Maria waited for him to continue, unwilling to volunteer more about herself.

"There is... another part of it, but I can't really demonstrate it here." Taking a moment to think of how to say it, he just came out with it. "God gave me the gift to heal people." Letting that hang in the air for a moment, he glanced at her face to try and read what she thought of his claim.

Maria gave Johnathan an inscrutable look. "Indeed," she answered, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at "God". Oh, dear. I think I will fairly go crazy if I have to deal with religious nonsense this entire time. As if coerced physical activity wasn't already enough!

Maria waited a moment before going on. "Do you heal injuries, or diseases? Or both?" she questioned, curious in spite of herself, if only for information-gathering purposes.

Well, if nothing else she was polite enough to keep her disbelief to herself...

Her follow up question actually got him thinking through. "Just injuries to my knowledge. I used to work beside my father at his clinic to help with some of the patients and occasionally we practiced it on someone. Tried it on the sick a few times but it just never seemed to get a reaction."

Clearing his throat, he decided to ask an interesting question. "So... how did you end up here?" While he asked said question, he started to speed up his walking stride just a little bit.

Interesting. So he wouldn't be able to cancel out the effects of my poison, then. Good. Johnathan's next question caught Maria slightly off guard, though she was expecting it to pop up at some point. Still. She didn't really want to give him a concrete answer, and she wasn't concerned with finding more about Johnathan, now that he'd told her his ability.

"Oh, you know. Government heard about what I could do, basically forced me to join the group. Not much else to it," she answered him offhandedly. Maria watched Johnathan continue to walk, and she swore she saw him speeding up just a little bit, and mentally scoffed. Nice try. I am not going to start running this early up the mountain.

It seemed that Maria had a good eye for detail, being able to spot his attempt to speed up their pass slightly and denying it. Was worth a shot at any rate. "You kind of sound like you would be better suited elsewhere then in a military unit like this."

Maria laughed mirthlessly at Johnathan's remark. "I agree. Unfortunately, the United States Armed Forces does not." Oh, good grief. That was the single thing Maria found most irritating about the entire arrangement, if she was perfectly honest with herself-the pure uselessness of putting her in a team that was being trained to go out in the battlefield.

Nodding his head a little, Johnathan could agree a little that Maria's ability didn't exactly lead itself well to picking up a gun and shooting at someone from a distance away. "I'm curious... how do you believe you talents would be better used?"

Maria sighed under her breath. Johnathan sure was intent on drawing this conversation out, that was certain. "Anything other than what they expect the unit to do. Infiltrate Germany, kill Hitler, rob a museum in Paris, fine. Going out into the battlefield, though? What good am I going to be there?"

She made a solid point; Her skills seemed much better suited as an infiltrater and assassin then that of a battlefield combatant... however, there was one question that needed to be answered before he could know that for certain. "Kannst du Deutsch sprechen?" He asked, somewhat clumsy with it but still saying it relatively well for someone still learning.

Maria shrugged nonchalantly. "Not really, but I haven't had a need to learn the language so far, seeing as they apparently want me with you guys, shooting at the Nazis. Italian is fine, though."

"Well, maybe if you showed an interest in learning the languages, you would have a stronger case for being assasigned an information gathering role instead of a combat one. Through there isn't any harm in knowing how to use a weapon through."

"I'll learn the language if it is necessary," was Maria's reply. She smiled sweetly at his next remark, though her eyes were hard. "And who said that I didn't know how to use a weapon?"

Maria then decided that they were done talking about her. If Johnathan must talk, fine. He could talk about himself instead. "And as for you, Mr. Harker? Where are you from?"

The answer easily left his mouth as he replied "Salt Lake City. Lived there all my life. What about you?"

"Grew up in New York City, then moved to Chicago." Maria fell silent as they continued to walk at a marginally faster pace than before. They continued up the Currahee like this, Johnathan stubbornly staying by Maria's side-though Maria did not deign to strike up another conversation with him-and they finished long, long after the others.

Maria parted ways with Johnathan, then, going back to the barracks and frowning at her reflection in the small mirror that she had left on top of her pillow. She changed and freshened up the best she could, then headed out for spaghetti. She would have preferred anything but spaghetti, but it wasn't like she had a choice in the matter anyway.

The team had assembled in front of the barracks in a quick enough order into a single file. Maria and Johnathan had finished the run last. David had expected Maria taking her time in the Currahee, but Johnathan, too... it seemed he had helped and encouraged the tempting viper to try to move a bit faster. If they get even a bit closer, that's good. If not, it will not end well for any of us, David thought.

"Attention!" David started. He weighed his words.

"As I have promised with my big mouth, a reward is given to the man or woman who could break the record. Private Renner, step forward", David ordered. He took the step forward, and David came closer to the private. He took a look at him, and then continued. "Private Renner has used his powers in a creative manner, but also showed backbone by running the course with the others normally, It has shown the most important thing in the Army; we work as a team."

David took a look at the team for a reaction. "Private Renner, later this day you'll be given the M1911 pistol our dear Colonel Clarke used during the Great War, and it will be your official sidearm."

David ordered the man back to the formation, and took a sharper tone with his voice. "Turn left, and towards the canteen. March!"

They marched the distance in quick pace and in silence. A few groups of regular soldiers came across, and some of the GIs gave the team curious or even skeptical looks, David noticed, as he was shouting at the team the pace. The team entered the canteen and took their meals. David looked for Colonel Clarke, and he found the old man quickly with his eyes. He was sitting alone with his meal, reading a book. David took his portion and walked to Clarke, sitting face towards him.

"You know, you shouldn't sit with your superior officer without permission, Captain" Clarke said with his usual, sarcastic tone. He had a wrinkled face of a bulldog, and light, sand brown hair. He was around fifty, and had quite a habit for speaking his mind out.

"We know each other too well for that, sir" David responded. "What is the business with the federal man?"

Colonel Clarke laid the book down and gazed at David. "Well, the special agent told me about his situation in the morning, and it appears your team gets to go to a ball. Get to the usual classroom for briefing with your team. Special Agent Hanks will be waiting for you."

"Right. Don't you think Hanks is a bit odd?" David asked. The man had felt odd, by the looks of him.

"Every fed is an odd man out in my eyes, Stevens. But get your team there", Clarke said, and rose up, taking his dishes and book with him. "I'll be there, don't worry about it."

David watched as the Colonel walked away, leaving him sitting alone into the table with the spaghetti.

@ONL

Óscar finished changing, looking at the french male with a raised eyebrow and a slight smirk "Yeah, well, you'd also be complaining if you were forced to stay here gilipollas!" he yelled back at him with a laugh afterward. "What an ass..." he thought "Everyone here is an ass, except that Asian chaval, he seems good". The Spaniard walked out of the barracks, stretching himself and adjusting the uniform to fit his body: He wasn't a bodybuilder, not at all, but it was obvious that he was fit enough to put up a nice fight or even handle a few soldiers by himself. He DID practice H2H combat while on the old League, and his years of "Vigilante" taught him some useful techniques...besides, he asked for some Glíma lessons here on the Georgian base.

He didn't like being "bossed" around, but he understood that the Captain was, well, the Captain for a reason, so he didn't wait to follow his instructions and continued the march to the canteen. He knew some of the other soldiers looking at the group, giving some of them a few nods as the pacing started to slow down, reaching the comedor at last as he grasped a tray and got served the "spaghetti", grinning but also showing disgust on his face "Told you, wet noodles..." he said, chuckling and quickly sitting on one of the tables, starting to play around with the fork/spoon...foon? "Damn, a M1911? Well, I guess he deserved it" Still, the thought of the man getting just a pistol was ticking him off "Why not a rifle? A rifle is better...or a bow, damn, those are really silent..." he took a sip of the glass beside him, watching as the rest of the group grabbed their trays "Yeah, a bow could be useful, maybe I could make ice arrows for him even."

Óscar continued day-dreaming, slowly starting to eat the "spaghetti" as an idea popped into his brain "A band! When I get out of here I'll make a band, a swing band...just like back in France..." the idea appeared appealing to him, but he quickly discarded it as a shady thought ran across his mind "Maybe we don't make it out alive, maybe this is just The League 2.0 and I'll have to desert again." he looked at the siblings as he said that "Oh, look, we're really honorable and we care for the rest of the people, blah blah blah." Óscar chuckled to himself, shaking his head slowly "Yeah, see where that gets you, more than likely in a situation where I'll have to risk my ass to save you, kids, just to not get called a "coward", why do I even care though? If I could, I'd just escape from this hell-hole and kill Hitler myself, I'd just need to see him on the street and make his blood boil, or maybe freeze it and then throw a stone at him so he shatters, yeah." His "happy-go-lucky" attitude seemed to have gone off him, a dark-like-aura now floating around him, as he was imagining ways to kill the needed people so the War would end as fast as possible. He did know that nothing about that would happen, he was just an actor and musician with some special power.

@Oak7ree

Marching in line towards the canteen, Johnathan had a bit on his mind... through he did notice that when they passed the more rank and file solders that were training, he was the one in their little group that got the least attention. That made quite a lot of sense, since if he had been put in any other unit of solders he would have blended right in as another recruit; He did notice a few dark looks that were thrown towards his Asian teammate and the women of the unit were looked at with slight disbelief, lust and a slight degree of scorn, through they weren't inclined to say or do anything more about it at the moment. No doubt due to the presence of a ranking officer.

He made sure that he was the last in the line of their group, receiving his meal last but with an intention in mind. Before he walked over to sit down at the table that his squad had claimed for their own, he politely waited until the Colonel had left the Captain alone before walking towards him and offering a brief salute. "Sir, might I discuss something with you in private the next chance we get?"

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Even if Anton didn't fully like it, he had to it to Kaneda Renner; he deserved the reward given to him. While he still didn't like him, his achivement was worthy of the dutyful soldier that he was showing himself to be. Not that he would congratulate him out loud in everyone's presence, that could wait. The same went for Oscar and his rude attitude towards himself, having the audacity to call him an 'asshole' in Spanish. What, did he think that Frenchmen didn't know such words? Sacrebleu!

Anton didn't get to, nor did he wished to reply the ungratefal siesta donkey, as they all marched towards the canteen for their meal. The thing called 'spaghetti' they got wasn't exactly what Anton had expected when he looked down at his plate. It wasn't so much that there was a underpropotion of sauce compared to the spaghetti, that was fine and all. It was the sauce itself; too much tomato, too little vegatables and spices. Though it went down easily enough. In the end. He was about to start complaining about this poor excuse for food, when looked at Oscar. It was enough for him to think of something else. It would be hypocritical for him to do something he had just spoken about to him. So instead he sucked it up, tied an apron around his neck and lap, and tried to be positive. These were his new teammates after all, no shame in getting to know them.

"So where do you zhink we are going to be deployed first, mes compatriotes? Personally I zhink Norzh Africa would be plausible, seen as z'hat clever devil of an Englishman, Montgomery, is giving ze Germans a good kicking. Ze faster z'hey and ze Italians are our of the desert, ze faster ze liberation of Europe can begin."

Kaneda stepped forward as he was told and heard that his prize was going to be a M1911 pistol, he couldn't help but smirk.

"Thank you sir, I will make good use of the gun and will make its former owner proud." He said as he saluted.

He then stepped back into formation and headed to have lunch.

As the team entered the lunch room and stood in line waiting for his meal he was going to ask Jonathan what he and Maria had talked about, as he saw them begin and end the run together and could not imagine that it was a quiet walk/run the whole way, but saw in the mans body language that he had something else on his mind, so he kept quiet and was given a plate of military grade spaghetti, he wouldn't mind it after the run they just had and wasn't going to complain about food at a time like this. He did look at Oscar though and gave him a nod acknowledging that he was right, "wet noodles and tomato paste" he said under his breath and chuckled a little before taking a seat.

This time he sat across from Anton, he had never really had a chance to talk to the Frenchman, from what info he was given he knew that the man was a pilot, very interesting because he had not met a pilot before and had some questions for him when he had the chance. As he ate Anton spoke up and talked about where they might be deployed.

"It would be nice to be placed in a position where we could spearhead our way into Europe and with Montgomery at the helm we might stand a chance. That is just hoping though, for all we know they might just drop us out of a plane into enemy territory. We have to be prepared that we might be thrown into some real deep shit when we are deployed. And in order for that to happen our higher ups need to start filling us in with facts about what is going on out there we keep getting bits and pieces but not the whole picture, I hate going into something blind, it's frustrating." Kaneda said as he looked over to see the captain sitting with his superior officer and chatting about something that he couldn't hear the officer leaving and Jonathan going up to the captain. He could also see Oscar was in his own head, Kaneda wondered what he was thinking about because whatever it was it was giving off some dark vibes but thought that it would pass and he would cool down.

After giving his answer he followed up with his own question to Anton.

"So from what I hear you are a fighter pilot, what's it like to fight in the skies? And what possessed you to even consider getting in a plane in the first place?" He asked with a curious look and taking a spork full of his spaghetti noodles and slurping them down.

He was late for the Currahe run, and he knew he'd probably get put on toilet duty because of it. For whatever reason, he wasn't worried; he was new anyway, it wasn't like they'd berate him too bad for one little mishap, would they? Probably. He had resigned himself to his fate and instead dressed in his PT garb to give the impression he had made an attempt to make it to PT. Come mess hall time, he was one of the first in line and he hoped his punctuality here would disguise his tardiness elsewhere--even if he was the most distinguishable face in the regiment.

He got his slop, no, it wasn't slop this time. It was spaghetti! Yes, did he love himself some saucenoodle. His plastic spork shoveled torrents of noddles an round ground meat into his gullet followed by several rythmatic swallows. Since this wasn't a large company like the 366th Infantry from which he came, he had no choice but to sit by the others: three women, a Spanish looking cat, a yellowman, and some other indiscriminate pasty white folk. They all looked the same to him. But it didn't matter, he continued gorging the spaghetti without a second recognition of the others with whom he sat. He did eavesdrop on their conversation, though. It sounded like it all had something to do with fighting on the North African front? He'd never been to Africa before, be good to see some'a my kind in our own habitat for once he mused in solidarity.

He still didn't know why he'd been sent here, though. He didn't ask questions, it was never his right. It was a sordid mentality drilled in him by his own country more than anything the army had ever taught him. For how uncomfortable he felt, what with being the only black face around, it was sure nice to see some different looking people. He got tired of seeing the same grizzled, distraught grimmaces his all black company had on their faces all the time. Peckerwood this, peckerwood that. Walter thought they all needed a break, they all needed to find them one of those nice German girls with African warrior fetishes--that'd cheer them up right good.

He had finished eating, and his blue-green eyes shifted from his plate to the cast of characters seated around him; he didn't say much, back home you didn't speak to a white person unless spoken to, that was the rule. He didn't know if it was any different here, so he waited to see if anyone would bother to initiate.