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"Sorry about that." Arndt said, glancing at Alexandrea who was clutching his arm. He gently pulled it back away from her and put it back on the wheel. When the Lieutenant got into the back seat and slid into the center, they were on the move again.
Gweniviere silently put her seatbelt on and folded her long legs against her, noting the back seat had little leg room and she most definitely wasn't the size of whatever child Mercedes thought would sit back here. She glanced out the window through the sideview mirror by Alexandrea's head at the shrinking shape of the van she had left with Agent Coulson lying in the street in front of it, glass cuts on his face. Her breath eased out of her mouth in a quiescent, calming manner. Her shoulders relaxed and her hands released the material of the car's upholstery. They had the girl and Gweniviere herself, and the Corporal, were safe. But the pit of anxiety, twisting at the thought of a missed opportunity, was growing inside of her.
I should have killed him The Lieutenant thought, looking as Coulson's little frame disappeared around the corner. I should have taken just one more moment to shoot him. Then my future life would have been so much easier.
Corporal Arndt seamlessly merged into the common traffic, slowing down and driving safely. He glanced over at the girl when she spoke to him. Shaking his head gently his shoulders twitched in a slight shrug, "You're gifted. Hydra is interested in gifted people."
The Lieutenant finally took her mind from her missed opportunity before she started hating herself for her ineptitude again and turned her head back to the front of the car, listening to what they were saying. The tall super soldier crossed her arms over her chest and put her foot up on the back of the center console . Her golden eyes dropped to a randomly chosen spot on the console. "And SHIELD doesn't need any more people to pull into their delusion."
Corporal Arndt glanced at her, chuckling a bit, as if it wasn't obvious if someone shows their powers in a public space. "[+gray Word travels fast. Rumors always have some hint of truth in them, and it's Hydra's prerogative to seek their ends.]" he finished his statement and suddenly rethought it, "[+gray I-In a manner of speaking, I mean to say their result.]"
In the back of the car the Lieutenant shut her eyes, sighing through her nose. She didn't particularly care about the girl's comfort, save for if that comfort meant control of whatever powers she had. It was a legitimate thing to be concerned about, whether or not a subject's emotions would affect their gifts. When she opened her eyes, Gweniviere's golden gaze was straight ahead, sternly set as she watched their surroundings go by with calculative ease. Her arms crossed over her chest and the start of a bruise on her jaw. She could feel where it would be the next morning. For an unaugmented human being, Agent Mae wasn't one to underestimate in close combat. The force behind her blows at such close range had suggested her discipline. Gweniviere's tongue poked out of her mouth and edged over her lower lip, feeling the burn that radiated through the nerve that had been struck, resonating still as if the blow was yet leaping through her mouth still. She swallowed, the Lieutenant had never been told she wasn't admiring of strong women, and was quick to come to a grudging respect of one out of at least necessity.
The lieutenant had carried the girl, as the Corporal's partially synthetically altered body was strong, but he would tire easily. It was a bit too much action for him for one day, even though he hadn't suffered any blows. He wasn't delicate, by any stretch, but he was an imperfect being, and becoming quickly outdated and a harsher procedure to keep the elderly man functional would be needed soon if he wasn't protected. An expensive, extensive procedure that they didn't yet know how to complete. At any rate, the Lieutenant took charge of the girl and laid her in the room, leaving her blanket with her, the thicker comforter folded at the end of the bed as in any other long-term chambers would have, the sheets folded over the metal framed bed itself.
From the monitor she noted Alexandrea crying... again. The woman rolled her eyes as the Corporal made note of it, tilting his head. "[+gray You'd think after this long she'd run out or get a headache yet after that much crying.]"
The Lieutenant scoffed, "[B Of pop a number of capillaries in her eyes. I reckon when we get in their she'll have a new batch or bright red freckles all around her eyes from crying that hard and that much. Simple science.]"
When Dr. WHitehall approached them he spoke in English, as the German woman was fluent in tongue as Arndt was, being British himself and previously MI6. Gweniviere frowned at him, "[B You know, I've been working longer than you have in this field...]" she paused, allowing him to stop her if he realized his mistake.
Whitehall put a hand up to stop her and the Lieutenant easily relented. "[+green She's our last one unaffiliated.]"
"[+gray We'll take care of it.]" the masked Corporal said, his voice a bit tinny and static from behind his respirator filters, snapping to attention and folding his arms behind himself as he gave the elder immortal a pert nod.
The Lieutenant Commander, as her full rank suggested, looked over to the monitoring one-sided glass panel on the side of the detention room to look inside at the cowering girl. "[B You'd think,]" she began, "[B that a white, middle class American prat would at least have some dignity.]"
Corporal Arndt shook his head as he picked through the assorted file on the girl on the desk, "[+gray You generalize.]"
"[B I take an average.]" she reminded him, holding out a hand for the file that the shorter man handed her and she flipped through, pulling out a picture of Alexandrea, a candid shot taken from across what looked like a school campus. The woman tilted her head, looking over the young man standing next to her and gave an offhanded, dismissive hum. So much that could be taken from her. That showed a real comfort in her world, the ability to make connections like that. It was something that the Lieutenant was, once a long time ago, able to do but had since lost almost all of those people and hadn't thought it prudent to find more. That was the problem when you lived through the generations of those around you. She was almost 97 years old, even if her loved ones had lived full lives most would have been gone by now anyways.
Pushing away the thoughts, the Lieutenant turned and went down the hall and around the corner to the door that would lead into the girl's room. Gweniviere knocked twice quickly before opening the door, her gaze still angled down at the file before closing it and raising her head to meet the girl. The Lieutenant was dressed still in her uniform pants and boots, but had taken off her grim uniform coat and was now in a simple, white button up with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, revealing the numerous scars that crisscrossed her forearms. The collar was unbuttoned comfortably as well, the scars on the woman's chest and throat that extended up under her chin were shown without hiding them. The scars on her face, the ragged one that crawled up the right side of her jaw from the corner of her mouth, the two on her other cheek... She wasn't one for superficiality. Why hide scars she had to suffer to get? Why feel ashamed?
The Corporal poked his head in the door, his glassy face glancing around, "[+gray Shall I come in too?]"
Gweniviere stopped by the table, letting the file down on it, her fingertips trailing the surface of the table and glanced at the girl. "[B I think I can handle it for now, thank you...]" she said in her low, rough voice, made so from the evidence of destruction done to her throat. It hadn't been necessarily the same since. Too much scar tissue.
Corporal Arndt nodded, tipping his hat a bit, and was about to close the door...
The clothes and pose
Lieutenant Nietzsche inspiration uniform prewar
[i motion to pull from pocket to get into hand]
found this too~ :3
***If you write for this remember that Danny said it's all about trapping limbs and counterbalancing your opponent
DO NOT OP
Lieutenant fight references-
[i Literally the last two seconds]
Future reference cuz reasons...
Shape and shadows cuz apparently we've yet to conquer our fear of drawing this little shit.
Look at these shadows! Shit!
Eye and brow ratio/relationship/character
profile and expression
Shit this is cool! Use this pose... somewhere
Neck shoulder relationship
Man curves! Cuz this old man is hopeless.
[B Ideas, ideas, ideas- masterpost for Gweniviere related... stuff.]
[i In essence: Hair, androgyny, facial structure with hopes of defining her further visually as an individual.]
THIS ONE IS VERY IMPORTANT
The Lieutenant's fingers found the scar on her face, stretching from the right corner of her mouth. She turned her head, viewing its contrast between light and shadow in the mirror, and tried to smile. Her mouth pulled down and out at a strange angle, turning her smile into more of a crooked smirk that was not shared in the rest of her expression.
“Look, I adore your presence, I do.” Gweniviere said, “I swear- I need it, it’s integral to my very being. But,” she shifted her head away from the fuzzy pillar that was her cat, Thomas’ tail as it brushed by her nose again, “you need to get off. Go away now. Please. Please?” She hadn’t the heart to shove the animal off of her lap but did indeed have work to do, waiting patiently for the feline to turn just so she could grab him and set him down gently and hopefully get up fast enough so that he didn’t have time to hop back up on her again…
Noting the change from adopting Hermann to finding him... somewhere. try and make a little quip about it to add to your cumulative history of the character on Google Docs. yea?
make it separate too, right now it is spread between innumerable documents.
I can see in you the glance of a curious sort of bird through the close-set bars of a cage- a vivid, resltess captive. Were it but free, it would soar, cloud high.
- Mr. Rochester, Jane Eyre
[B Script Idea]
A young writer with fading hopes of success dreams of her characters and enters into their worlds.
'what I wouldn't give to see them come to life'
[B AU Idea]
Characters lost all their powers and are put into real life and are seen as the ultimate cosplayers .
[i Can't Stop] - Red Hot Chili Peppers
[i Enjoy the Silence] - Depeche Mode
Further Notes on absolute nonsense like usual, carry on...
Her mouth twitched into a pained, distant smile, "[B Don't look at me like that.]" she said, a single syllable of detached amusement escaping her lips before she cocked the pistol, "[B Don't ever look at me like that.]"
-pull the trigger.
This piece of aper is telling me everything is fine. But I don't feel fine. I feel different.
The point of these things (scars) is to remind us that there is no going back. There is only moving forward.
This part of our operation gets easier everyday. With Twitter, Instagram and Tumblr- people are surveilling themselves.
Utilizing former agents with replacement optical cameras to do dirty undercover work because why recruit and train your own agents when you can take the already good ones and do it that way??
1. My talents are better served here. He is being interrogated.
2. He is being beaten.
1. Into submission.
Mavis Pemberly gazed at the ancient, dark forest. From where the human was on the gentle rise of a foothill just past the mountains separating the corrupt lands form those that were considered pure the immense trees looked tiny with the distance. She knew, of course, they weren't, as even from their distance it could see the tiny pinpricks in the sky were birds, looking like in their number a haze around the tops of the trees. It was the time when the birds had moved on from her homeland to the more favorable climate of these lands, a heavy winter settling in on the other side of the mountains that protected these lowlands from the full force of the winter.
Back in the industrialized lands the trees were rumored to move on their own. It was both legend and rumor to believe that this land was so saturated with spiritual and natural forces that the very earth would consume you if it so chose. Those few explorers who had crossed the mountains to get to here did not help the truth come out as to whether or not this was true, instead speaking of the wonders of the place, instead they ranted unfavorably of the conditions and the danger that they had been living in away from the hearths, the soot, the smoke and haze of the industrialized side of the known world, small as it was, or perpetuating the rumors with the exaggeration of voice and manner that made even most of their fellows in their ignorance question the reality if they didn't simply buy into it at face value.
Mavis had wondered as a child if such a thing was possible, as the trees she knew were twisted and either dying or stoically holding onto their places in the ground midst the coal smoke and ash that so often fell in place of snow over the cities. Through the eyes of the mask she wore she could thus far see no movement among the trees, or of the trees themselves. Slight disappointment shadowed her first, clear glimpse of the line of imperious plant life, but she tried to abate it with promise of a closer inspection when they came upon it.
The dark shape of an inhuman body drew up next to the human, its form easily surpassing her height to stand at a full seven feet tall. The creature was shrouded entirely in deepest black, the weak light of an overcast day shining over the both of them doing nothing to dissolve the encompassing shadowy depth of the creature's body. Its shadow stretching behind it as if an extension of the shrouded body itself. The only forgiving characteristic about the creature that made it look anything more than a silhouette that had appeared next to the girl was the pale, bird-like face, resembling more of a mask than anything, immobile when the creature spoke. "[B The forest.]" it said, its voice low and resonant, tickling the cavity of Mavis's chest. "[B Have you found resolve to stay from it? You haven't moved.]"
She didn't reply for a moment, still looking to see if she could catch any of the trees moving. "[+gray No. I was just recalling the rumors. You remember the ones- about the trees moving on their own.]" she murmured, turning her head, the omnipresent light of the day throwing no shadow over either side of the rabbit mask she wore over her face. Many of those that lived in the cities of smoke and ash wore some sort of cover over their mouth and nose- but Mavis had donned the mask of the rabbit when she had learnt more of her guardian's opinion of human. The creature had done nothing but tolerate her and protect the human from her follies as one of mankind- telling her that the human condition was something mired in opinions, arrogance and a self-import that put them firmly, jealously on top of the food chain. So she had taken to wearing the mask in solidarity and homage to her companion's benevolent tolerance. "[+gray A tree doesn't posses a muscular structure- I don't see how they could get up and move at will- and I highly doubt that the life and spirit of that place is so strong that it could defy the laws of simple physics.]" Mavis said, tilting her head.
"[B Physics,]" the tall creature replied quietly, "[B as you know possess elasticity. Their jurisdiction stops at the line of physical reality and the realm of thought.]"
"[+gray Human thought?]" Mavis enquired.
"[B I wouldn't think so. Not solely, at any rate. Humans are a delicate, vicious race too content in their own reality to reach beyond it with any purposeful success- for then man would no longer be king of their world.]" Tippetarius replied, the material of its cloaks brushing against her coat slightly in the breeze. It turned its head to her, "[B Do you believe in man's superiority?]"
She looked up at the dream eater, "[+gray No. You said that there is so much more beyond- that humans simply refuse to acknowledge there is such a thing as higher power and instead deem it evil.]"
Tippetarius tilted its head, "[B Yes, but do you believe it?]"
The human took pause, turning to look back at the forest again. "[+gray Yeah. That is why so many companions to humans are put into servitude, or have suspicion thrown on them.]"
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