A round of RPG
Disclaimer: none of the characters are mine, but belong to Marvel™ and Whedon.
Note: this story contains spoilers for the original series.
For once the evening in the Helicarrier was quiet, as Fitz and Simmons thought over the Donnie situation. Not that the others weren't thinking about it, but Coulson had his own problems to think about, as did Skye, while Ward and May were more inured to this sort of situation than Fitz and Simmons were.
"Who could've thought that it would end like this? And taken to the Sandbox, too!" Fitz said slightly too loudly for Skye's tastes. "When was the last time anyone, or anything, was sent to the Sandbox?"
"A few weeks ago, by us. The alien helmet," Skye said matter-of-factly before Simmons could.
"...Well yes, but that's not a person," Fitz said after a pause.
"Yes, but you did say 'anyone or anything', and an alien helmet is certainly something," Skye did not back down. "Just for the record, I know it's not a person, but it's not sentient either, right? 'Cause you never know with the alien artefacts..."
"No," Simmons said in a flatter voice than she usually used – the mention of the alien helmet brought back bad memories. "Why are you asking this? You're not walking on your blog or anything, are you?"
"No," Skye shook her head. "I am actually trying to design an RPG instead but it goes neither here nor there."
"What kind of RPG?" Fitz asked despite his intentions.
"A Choose Your Own Adventure kind of thing," Skye shrugged. "For example, imagine that the two of you are walking through a suburban street and see a kitten stuck in a tree, mewling piteously. What do you do?"
"Take a stick and try to knock it down," Fitz said, practically without thinking.
There was a pause as the others just stared at him. "What? I may not be agent Ward, but I am physically fit," Fitz said, sounding rather hurt.
"Well, yes, but can you hit anything with a ranged attack?" Skye said, sounding slightly apologetic. "I think that you're more of a close-ranged fighter-"
"I have you know that I am actually a masterful javelin thrower," Fitz began, but was interrupted by Simmons:
"You are?"
Fitz glared at his fellow scientist. "I am! And I will prove it!"
/
To prove his words, Fitz took the others into the training room. He pressed a button off to a side, and a door slid open, revealing a number of athletic props, light weight, but still impressive.
"There," he took out a javelin. "You will see now!" He threw.
The javelin veered off to a side and hit a completely different target.
"Okay," Skye said slowly. "Getting back to my RPG. Your missile, let's say, was too light, and missed the kitten completely."
"I'm just getting started," Fitz argued, as he pulled out the second javelin. Sadly, it appeared to have slipped through his fingers and fell onto his foot, causing Fitz to jump around, looking more annoyed than hurt.
"Right," Skye said after she and Simmons finally got their grip on Fitz and got him to sit down and to bandage his bruised limb. "Let's just assume that your second throw misfired and you managed to hit your head or something. Now-"
"Can I try?" Simmons said a bit meekly – after the way that Fitz had handled things she was slightly unsure that Skye would think that this is a good idea.
"Are you sure?" Skye was sceptical but not forbidding. "Fitz is already down for the count."
"Ah, but I got a secret weapon!" Simmons said brightly as she reached into her jacket and pulled out a number of spare parts that she quickly assembled into a...
"It's called an atlatl!" Simmons said brightly to Skye's unspoken question.
"I can't believe that you're still in possession of that thing!" Fit suddenly snapped. "Seriously, that bloke is long gone and you still have it?"
"What bloke?" Skye could not help to ask.
"Agent Lopez. Just think agent Ward, but less Caucasian. Specialized in military history. Assigned to South America about the same time – or a bit earlier – before we got assigned here," Fitz said crankily.
"He was not! Besides," Simmons said with a bit of a blush, "it's beside the point."
"What is the point?"
"That I am a superior thrower!" Simmons said matter-of-factly. She took the last javelin, loaded into her atlatl, and threw it. Indeed, using the atlatl did make agent Simmons' throw much more powerful than Fitz's, but... just as accurate: her missile also veered to the left, almost hitting agent Ward in the process.
"What are you doing?" he asked, not sounding very happy, as the others looked sheepishly away.
"Trying to knock down a kitten from a tree," Simmons said apologetically. "In an RPG," she added quickly, seeing the look that Ward gave them. "This was me trying to knock it from a tree...kind of?"
"Did you succeed?" Ward could not help but ask.
"No, she missed the kitten, and her missile had hit a window in a building behind the tree," Skye answered instead. "Several minutes later the apartment's owner emerges into the street, yelling that he will sue whoever that had broken his TV."
"...I call for backup?" Simmons said in a small voice.
"The owner calls out to his family for backup as well. Now there are two groups of people, arguing in the street," Skye continued to type on her laptop. "Now-"
"My ambulance has arrived," Fitz said brightly.
"Excuse me?"
"I called an ambulance to check on my wounds and to see if they can dispel the crowd by calling the police on 911?" Fitz shrugged. "I'm guessing that we're undercover."
"If you're undercover, why not call the fire department to get the kitten off the tree in the first place?" Ward suggested.
"Good idea," Fitz loftily agreed and turned to Skye. "The fire department arrives, right?"
"Let's see," Skye said dryly. "There are now the police, the First Aid and the fire department at the site – all because of a kitten that is half-frightened into the bargain. You're looking at a stiff fine, agent Fitz – and an explanation to your superiors."
"Can I reroll?" Fitz gulped.
"No, but the good news is that you only got a small scalp wound that is easily treated with iodine, and the man whose TV you destroyed has decided to keep the kitten so it's not taken to the pound," Skye said brightly. "The end."
"That was dumb," Fitz said flatly. "I mean, what kind of an RPG centers itself on a kitten?"
"I wouldn't go that far, but the end was kind of rushed," Simmons agreed.
"That's because I implied that she should wrap it up quickly and she took the hint," Coulson spoke up, startling the others (except for Skye and Ward) who saw him coming earlier.
"Oh! Right! What's the situation?"
"I got contacted by agent Blake. Either Donnie has more issues than it appeared at first, or the Sandbox got infested with gargoyles and goblins and they need our help. Take your pick – the connection was so bad that I couldn't sort it out," Coulson said calmly.
"And that is why I decided to center the RPG on a kitten," Skye said, a trifle sadly. "Shall we now go and rescue agent Blake?"
"Hear, hear," Ward echoed (Simmons did almost hit him in the eye with the atlatl, putting him into a sour mood).
And so, away they went.
End.