<div class="floatleft">(http://img542.imageshack.us/img542/4937/spjtehnoochness.png)</div><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>  Name:</strong>       Jack Trenton<br/>  <strong>Title:</strong>          SpringJack<br/>  <strong>Affiliation:</strong>  Resistance<br/>  <strong>Location:</strong>   Moscow, aboard Doom's ship<br/>  <strong>Tags:</strong>         Khutulan and Natasha<br/><br/></span></span><hr/><br/>Not quite a spanner had come to hand, rather a...hand had come to hand. Jack took it, pumped it happily. It was a strong hand, one coarse with work...Jack suspised that this woman really was the only mechanic working on the suit. Hell, she probably even piloted it.<br/><br/>"British! Yep, that's right...I...ran, fled...London's a...total wipeout, really....no, I was wearing that greatcoat to...not freeze to death...took it from the body of some Russian soldier..." Jack's scatty mind quickly recoiled and tried to pull some respectability back from that. "...who no doubt died with honour, fighting Apocalypse's hordes." Jack had no idea how Russians treated their fallen. Although, if Black Widow's response was anything to go by....<br/><br/><em>Not the time, Trenton.</em><br/><br/>"Your suit, right? You were fighting those guys...with me? You're a Russian agent? Does the Kremlin still have some power base against the Apocalypti? Do you have to kill me if you tell me that information?" He grinned. "Does red fox meet the white swan down in Georgia on Tuesday?"  Jack tried to throw in some hackneyed spy film jargon at the end, there. Shame, really, because that jargon is from British films from the sixties.<br/><br/>He was interrupted (no doubt to Khutulan's great relief) by the entrance of another Russian accent. This one, he had heard before, layered as it was with a spy's backlog of American and "could actually be from anywhere" accent.<br/><br/>He pumped another hand, this one belonging to Natasha, and with his other hand he tried to smooth down his hair. He was still wearing his SpringJack bodysuit (he didn't have any other clothes and Doom's ship certainly didn't seem to have a Zara on board) but his facemask was pulled back from his head, so his face was fully revealed. He desperately tried to look charming, and suggestive.<br/><br/>Jack Trenton's default facial setting was charming and suggestive, so him<em>trying</em>to do so probably looked a little weird.<br/><br/>"Jack Trenton. I suppose code names are redundant now you've seen me without my mask...and, uh, saved my life. I should thank you both for that, actually. I did think for a moment you might also be here to kill me. The Avengers...sure...of course...are they...still...y'know? Iron Man, the Cap? Still active or...?"<br/><br/>Jack blinked as in true Russian fashion Natasha seemed to bulldoze through the pleasantries to technical speak. Of course. Pragmatism.<br/><br/>"Uh...I actually...don't know. I was studying this urban legend...and then, I was sort of...bestowed his powers. I'm not sure if he actually existed...no one is...but I can do everything he can do in the stories. Still..." Jack rolled his eyes. "No Thor, though. You've hung out with an Asgardian. Total celeb."<br/><br/>SpringJack tactfully left out the part where he used his powers for petty crime and vanity. He sincerely doubted these two powerful women would care now, anyway.<br/><br/>"Hey, ladies, um, being as you're not killing me or anything, could either of you tell me...what the DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN we are doing aboard a ship made and piloted by Dr Victor von Doom?!"