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[Says Miles, politely, as one does when someone has made an effort.]
But I was imagining an obstacle course. Can you do one in those shoes? We could change plans.
"Darling," Trouble says, in a tone of voice which is absolutely the equivalent of a gentle pat on the head, then gestures at the control panel. "Do your worst."
Says Miles, and steps up to the panel, to ask for;
"Can we have some kind of training room please? One where we have to cooperate to get each other through it to the end- like a long form obstacle race thing but set for their physical skill plus mine?"
Trouble looks at him askance.
"Aren't you getting us off to a proactive start."
But this might get them a better view of the superpowers, so, not strictly complaining.
Says Miles, opening the door for them, with a winning smile.
"Besides, I've only been here two months and I'm already super cooped up. I don't know about you but I could use this!"
"I've actually been enjoying the rest, darling. Besides, haven't you just been a chipmunk?"
The Enclosure has chosen an outdoor environment, around dusk, pleasantly cool with a slight breeze.
A challenge for many, at their scale, but Miles managed. Speaking of which, he looks around them, and says;
"I'm at a disadvantage with nothing to give me height. Can we make for the forest?"
There's a field between them and something mirkwoody.
"All right. I suppose you need something to...hang your webs from," they say mildly, and start walking. "How old are you?"
Says Miles, and doesn't rise to the bait of the guess.
"But I've had to do more complicated things than most fifteen year olds. How old are you?"
"Twenty....something," they say, with a vague gesture. "I don't exactly have the paperwork, darling. What are most fifteen year olds doing, where you come from?"
He admits, with a small wince.
"I still am too. I just also get involved now when things are happening that are a little too weird for the police to handle."
"Oh. All the teenagers I've met recently are fighting a war for planetary domination," Trouble says, just in case they don't sound appropriately impressed.
He'll take it, honestly. And also, jump forward as something hawklike and whirring electronically swoops down at them to divebomb from above.
Trouble is all set to point out that 'can do it' isn't the same as 'can do it well' - but then neatly flips backwards to avoid the same threat.
"Really?"
"Yikes."
"For what it's worth, I feel extremely safe in your company," Trouble chirps, strolling forward for a better look at the webbing.
"What does that...come out of?"
Says Miles, and folds his hands behind his back. Nope.
"I bet more of these things are incoming?"
"Oh, I'm not worried about that. You're my very righteous warden and you'll protect me, darling."
Trouble resumes their saunter towards the treeline, walking in heels like they're barefoot, tail swaying.
Oh shoot, three of the things whir up behind them, in hot pursuit. Miles yelps and starts running after DT.
Trouble glances back, watches their movements for a moment, then sighs.
"We can't get seriously hurt in here, according to you. And these things aren't intelligent. So I don't know -"
They double back, and the drones split up, forming a rough kind of pincer movement. Then they swoop in for the attack, Trouble ducks down, and they collide violently.
"...why you're worried."
Says Miles, hitching his backpack up and putting his thumbs under the straps, jogging to catch up. Trouble has slightly longer legs than him.
"And?"
Trouble straightens their skirt slightly, then folds their arms, not moving further from the twitching drone wreckage nearby.
There's a small creek up ahead, and he jumps it cheerfully, looking back over his shoulder at them.
"Keep in practice."
"Winning implies a prize, darling," Trouble points out, crossing the same stream.
Proposes Miles, who isn't sure there is icecream on board, but is prepared to search for some.
"Oh- what do you eat at home? You must be getting thrown into a lot of human cuisine."
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