cloneororiginal | closed to blindstrike

"...So you're the new recruit..." Sarah stated in a bored, unimpressed tone, watching the man as he stood in the center of the training room. HYDRA was known for selecting the best of the best to join their forces, but they really had done a number on this one. A lawyer who was blind as a bat. Shit, was the man who recruited him that off his rocker? Or did he truly see something special with this Matt? Maybe Matt joined so HYDRA could fix his eye sight.

The organization was known for playing God; creating life when there was nothing. Sarah and her sisters were proof of that. Project Leda, creating girl clones to see if biology would win over nurture. That aspect of the program was quickly shut down once the girls were in their early twenties, forced to join Project Castor. The other half of Leda was Castor, experimenting in developing male clones to form the perfect, super soldiers. Clones were useful in spy missions or creating armies. One person seemingly doing the work of five or more.

Now Sarah was given the lovely task to train this 'Matt' from being his current state to becoming an operative for HYDRA. She was circling him like a vulture, trying to figure him out. If he could fight, or if he could even land a decent punch.

"Do you even know how t'defend yourself?" That was Sarah, blunt and to the point. Not giving a shit if she hurt someone's feelings and greatly preferring if she didn't have to do much of anything.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

blindstrike

Sarah giving him shoes after all says plenty. He figures that’s oddly fair of her considering this is Hydra and from what little he knows about how they work, their operatives, Hydra doesn’t exactly play fair to get results. He had been expecting her to just beckon him after her with that disadvantage. Now that she didn’t, he wonders if he needs to reevaluate his initial impression.

He tails after Sarah, making sure she’s facing forward before he reaches up and adjusts the outfit with a uncomfortable grimace. His sensitivity means it isn’t just itching, it chafes like he’s wearing sandpaper. Socks are about the same, the shoes heavy duty. Matt’s sure he can still fight in these clothes, no problem, but he’s worried they’ll ramp up to testing his senses, find out what does what, how far he can take certain stimulus before he’s in a fetal position on the floor. At this point he’d rather take Sarah kicking the crap out of him and call it a day...assuming she wasn’t being serious about killing him on the mat. (He admit he’s still wondering about that). Matt steps into the training room and the smell of sweat underneath sanitizer and rubber, the shampoo Sarah favored trailing to a stop as she faces him.

Matt tilts his head as he hears the door hiss shut behind him. Hard to miss the sound of the deadbolt sliding into place.

“Does Hydra have a lot of new recruits who change their mind?” Matt’s a little nervous, trying to hide how on edge he feels. Nothing like being locked in to bring that out.

He isn’t sure when Sarah will actually attack. Sure, her heart will spike, her breath rate will do the same but that’s about a second or two warning. But until then he’s left feeling on the wrong foot and thinking about that deadbolt and he can’t lie and say he isn’t wondering if this was a bad idea. He knows nothing about her aside from her favorite soap and the clone bit and that she rather be somewhere else. She’s hard to impress. But other than his initial impression, he knows nothing about her. With that in mind, Matt’s shoulders square like he’s bracing himself, his hands balling slowly as he assumes she’ll start this off hard and fast and she won’t make the same mistake as last time thinking one punch would do it.

From:

cloneororiginal

Matt would have to learn how to fight in conditions where his body would be pushed to the limit. Where his senses had the possibility of overwhelming him. How he would have to deal with loud sounds, sharp scents, and unbearable weather. If he was able to survive a training session with Sarah, his body would be subjected to more endurance training and there was a high possibility he would come to hate his decision. But once he was part of HYDRA, the only way to escape them was death. Though in Sarah's case, death would not grant her peace.

When the door closed, Sarah turned to face her trainee, looking him over again. As calm and annoyed as she was about this, she kept her physical tells to herself. Though, considering he wouldn't be able to see them, he might pick up on her biological ticks. How her heart rate could go up, or how her breathing could change. She would have to be careful in the future, but right now? Now she got to see what he could do. The scars on his back showed her he was used to fighting, well, she wanted to see that spirit to come out. Really, he should be happy she was giving him more room to fight in and not trapped in a box.

God, she loathed that stupid glass box that was used to fight in close quarters.

"Not many who change their minds. Though when they do, they're never let out. You either survive or you die. There's no room for anything in between," she told him mindful he could 'see' where she was by the sound of her voice. There was no point in trying to stall anymore. They had eyes watching them from the surveillance cameras, tracking every move they made and every word said. This was as much of an assessment of him as it was for her.

If she held back, if she showed restraint, that would be a mark against her. A mark that could write her own death certificate.

Matt is right to assume what she'll do next. Sarah lunges at him, not going to a punch this time, but a combination. A kick to the stomach, if he blocks that, a punch, or try to sweep him off his feet. He couldn't see, that shouldn't hold him back. She was in close quarters to him, and her hair was falling out of its loose bun. He could play dirty and HYDRA was expecting him to. Their enemies had rules to govern them, rules that made them weak whereas HYDRA, their rules in combat were more flexible. If Matt wanted to survive, he would have to fight back.

From:

blindstrike

That's what he'd been afraid of. The locked door said plenty: Sarah just confirmed of a gut feeling he wishes he was wrong about.

Matt manages to make it through the first salvo of hits, the blind man doing a hell of a lot better than the last trainee who went down with a shattered orbital socket as soon as the deadbolts locked. He swivels from the kick, his arm comes up to block the punch. The leg sweep nicks him, though, and he can’t quite hide the stumble before he recovers his balance. They said nothing about using anything in the room to help him out. The problem is aside from his boots, he’s got no weapons, no projectiles. Taking out the lights means he’d have the advantage (he thinks) but he doubts Sarah’s going to let him call a time-out so he can untie his shoes. From the way she comes at him, this won’t stop until one of them is face down on the floor.

The still breathing part’s optional.

Matt swings to the side and now he isn’t talking anymore, he’s cut the crap and stopped being cute about this. He comes at Sarah with his body angled to give him better balance, the shades of a boxer’s stance mixed in with whatever training he picked up pre-Hydra. He hasn’t shown yet that he’s a big fan of the acrobatics, aware that he can’t hide that forever. She’ll drag it out of him just like she found out right off the bat that the cane’s purely cosmetic. He darts toward Sarah, throwing a punch he expects to miss since he’s already turning his body for a full aimed kick toward her chest. If he can get her on the floor, he can use his weight against her, get her in a lock. Unlike Sarah, Matt isn’t comfortable with the idea of taking that extra step into cold blooded murder. Not yet, not without Hydra to correct that weakness of his. His plan is basically get her to fold, if he can get her on the floor, he’s about eighty percent sure he can take her out without snapping her neck.

Granted, that’s just assuming she’s like the biggest guy he ever took down. Maybe he better round up on her skill level just to be safe and assume it won’t be that easy.

From:

cloneororiginal

HYDRA never out right say he couldn't have weapons with him. All Sarah stated was that her gun was taken away to avoid shooting him on sight. She wasn't always trigger happy, but she fell into that mood when she was pissed off. The woman's temper was easy to trigger, but she didn't let it control her. No, she kept an additional weapon tucked in her boot, a knife, just in case she has to go for hand to hand combat--like now. However, she wasn't going to resort to that. No, Matt needed to learn to come prepared. At least he was managing to stay up on his two feet...

For now.

If he managed to survive this training exercise, he might have the luxury to live another day. At least he was smart enough to stop talking, no more teasing or quirky quips. He needs to fight like his life depends on it. He needs to fight to kill, and that instinct hasn't been drilled into him like it had been with her. The nature vs nurture argument and founding question that started the Leda project, went out the window when the girls were in their young teens. The truth was revealed to them and that started them on their path to becoming monsters. Living weapons who could carry out missions and make it seem like the work of an individual person. Matt needs to learn that lesson quick, unless he wants to be dragged out in a body bag.

He trained to be a boxer at one point in his life, judging by how he's setting himself up, keeping his arms close to his side at times. The punch he tried to throw at her was missed, but his knee came into contact with her chest. The wind is momentarily knocked out of her as pain floods her mind for a brief second. Then, it's locked out. Though her body is on the floor, she doesn't leave herself an open target. She doesn't roll over onto her stomach to give Matt the chance to put in her a headlock.

Instead, she delivers a strong kick to his knee, forcing him to get down to her level. If she broke or popped his knee out of place, it wasn't her concern. He needed to learn his place.

"You're not pushing yourself," she told him in a serious tone, moving to get the upper hand and pin him down by straddling him and drawing out her blade and pressing it to his neck, right at his artery. The slightest move and the blade would cut into his neck. he would be a bloody mess on the floor. Unless he wanted to risk it and try to break free of her hold.

"This is a fight for your life every day. Doesn't matter who gets killed in the process. Only the strong survive, the weak will die--burn that into your mind if you want to live the night."