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Anastasia Petrovna

"Every human being is a puzzle of need. You must become the missing piece, and they will tell you anything."

0 · 1,129 views · located in Descendant Tower

a character in “Descendant Academy”, as played by Galatea

Description

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A N A S T A S I A x P E T R O V N Axxxx p r o t e g e x o f x b l a c k w i d o w x
xxxxАнастаси́я xxxxxxxxxxПетровны





"Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
and I eat men like air."

- Sylvia Plath





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n i c k n a m e s x // x annie, nastya, nastas, nastenka, malenkaya (Russian for "little one")

a g e x // xtwenty-two (22)

g e n d e r x // xfemale

s e x u a l i t y x // xheterosexual

o r i g i n x // xvolgograd, russia

s p e c i e s x // xhuman

c l a s s i f i c a t i o n x // xlevel 5 — physical






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D E M E A N O R




h e i g h t x // x5'4" / 163cm

w e i g h t x // x120lbs / 54kg

h a i r x // xCoiffured golden strands turned a dull brown at the roots; the essences of summer, a goddess of the sun. Her bleach blonde hair drapes down softly curling along the ends.

e y e s x // xA blue-gray of stormy skies that drowned you in the rain to come. Anastasia inherited her mothers sapphire crystals, indigo darts - sharp yet still full of emotion.

o d d i t i e s x // xHer voice is coated with a thick Russian accent that usually doesn't go unnoticed. Her voice – breathy, low, and occasionally cracking, is the result of having been smoking cigarettes since her mid-teen years.

a p p e a r a n c e x // xAnastasia's emotions are not easily hidden on her face. Her pain was evident in the crease of her brow and the down-curve of her full lips. But her eyes, her eyes shows her soul. They are a deep pool of restless gold, an ocean of hopeless grief. Passion turned her eyes into orbs of the brightest fire. She's a bit below average at five foot four, but she's crafted with feminine curves and a face cut right from the pages of a men's magazine. She's come to believe that her face and some cleavage could get her what she wants. Though, her skin is pale and hardly glows -- only when she has a smile painted on her face which is rare. For her uniform, it is a black suit with black padding at the shoulders, knees, and elbows. It also contains Spider Bite which when used causes piping on the suit to light up. She also wears a thigh-holster on her left leg. It is sleek, though not leather, but a more tactical stretch cordura rather than the usual printed stretch fabrics used, although there is some of that in strategic places for mobility..





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P O W E R S

d e c e l e r a t e dx a g i n g x // x For a human, Anastasia has been enhanced to have an extended life-span. She can maintain her youthful appearance and health for much longer than the average human. She can also heal at an above-average rate.
e n h a n c e dxi m m u n exs y s t e m x // x The white blood cells in her body are efficient enough to fight off any microbe, foreign body and others from her body, keeping her healthy and immune to most, if not all infections, diseases and disorders.



P R O F I C I E N C I E S

m a s t e rx d e s c e p t i o n i s t x // x Anastasia is dangerously highly skilled in espionage, stealth, disguise, infiltration, and demolitions. She often resorts to seduce men to obtain her goals while working undercover. She can easily manipulate people to work to her advantage.
m a s t e rxm a r t i a lx a r t i s t x // x Anastasia is one of the best fighters out there, extremely skilled in the field of martial arts, having mastered arts such as karate, judo, aikido, savate, boxing, lucha-libre style wrestling and multiple styles of kung fu as well as armed and hand-to-hand combat. She is also highly skilled in incorporating gymnastics and acrobatics into her fighting style as she battles opponents.
m u l t i l i n g u a l i s m x // x Anastasia is fluent in Latin, Russian, English, French, German, Chinese, Italian, and various other languages.
e x p e r tx h a c k e r x // x She can hack into most computer systems without tripping any firewalls or security.



G A D G E T S

s p i d e r b i t e x // x Electroshock weapon that can deliver powerful electrical discharges from two bracelets.
s p i d e r b a t o n s x // x Electroshock weapons that can deliver powerful electrical shocks to incapacitate her targets.
g l o c k 2 6 x // x Anastasia has a pair of Glock 26 handguns as her weapon of choice and is her usually standard sidearm. Beside her weapon of choice she also has taser disks and flash bombs.



W E A K N E S S E S

e m o t i o n a lx] i n t i m a c y x // x Anastasia has built up so many stone walls and has only learnt how to use her feminine vulnerability to fish information from people that she is poor at forming real relationships/friendships because she doesn't know what's real. She can often seem cold and distant to others, but to her it's just how she was built to act.
s u b s t a n c ex a d d i c t i o n x // x To say Anastasia wouldn't pass on a drink is an understatement, she'd gladly take a shot... plus seven. Her alcoholism can come as an annoyance or even be seen as irresponsible to others. It doesn't help that it all tops off with her being a smoker.
h e rx m o t h e r x // x Her own blood is none other than the original Black Widow herself, and sometimes that dangling over her head (and the fact that Anastasia and Natasha are so much alike) can lead her straight to trouble.



F E A R S

n ox c o n t r o l x // x Anastasia definitely fears losing control of a situation, especially one that involves a volatile character or situation. Whether that mean she's losing in a battle, or she finds someone who can strip down her walls.
h a p h e p h o b i a x // x Anastasia has an absent fear that's constantly in the back of her mind that involves being touched without permission or warning. This especially includes being man-handled, something she loathes. She may fight against it or freeze in fear or shock.








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P E R S O N A L I T Y
xxxxxxxxxxx intelligent xx stubborn xx confident xx impulsive x




Anastasia was always the eye of the storm: Unpredictable - cold one day, sweet the next; irresistibly flirty one moment, resistibly obnoxious the next. She's as flirty as Scarlett O'Hara with the Tarleton twins, breaking through the clouds in spectacular bursts that seemed like personal favours and then retreating for hours, days, and making us all ache for just a glimpse. She likes to have her victims wrapped around her finger; she speaks mere portions of truth in order to deceive as a craftsman of destruction. She's the definition of a "femme fatale" -- a woman who thinks, knows how to turn her spirit into flesh, who knows what she knows and also knows how to fly; a woman so sure of herself that she uses both her mind and beauty to weave others in her web.

You can no more change Anastasia's mind than you can persuade the dawn not to come. That woman is the most difficult; the most stubborn girl you'll ever have the displeasure of meeting. She's bold enough to live life on her own terms, and never, ever apologizes for it. She goes against the grain, refuses to conform, and takes the road less traveled instead of the well-beaten path. She laughs in the face of adversity, and leaps before she looks. She was born with a bit of angel-shine, and though it wears thin sometimes, there is always enough left to lasso a heart—even when she is sitting in the mud, or crying temperamental tears.

She has quickly adapted to the "kill or be killed" philosophy, and has grown to be a survivalist, lethal, but good at thinking outside the box. She is very gutsy when it comes to showing her dislike for something or someone, where she can be impatient and cruel at times, as well as rather vicious toward others both verbally and physically. Anastasia is like water: she can rush pass you, or she will over-flood. She will drown you, or force you to go her current ways. She can be cold or hot-tempered. Most days she'll come as a raging wave and cause a ripple, or another day she'll be a calm sea, supporting you, quenching your thirst, and flow by your side to where kisses will always stay wet."








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H I S T O R Y




It's safe to say a lot of people were in shock when the famous Natasha Romanoff, aka Black Widow, had decided to tuck away her catsuit and taser disks and escape from the famed superhero scene. Determined to erase Black Widow from her life entirely, Natasha travelled back to her hometown in Russia and her alter ego was no more. Of course, over the years she had met another fellow, fell in love, tied the knot, and eventually had a daughter. Anastasia Alianovna Petrovna.

The one thing that did stay with Natasha was her ability to be incredibly elusive. Natasha had taken her husbands surname and was practically a bedtime story back at S.H.I.E.L.D and to everyone who once knew her. Determined to raise her young daughter as normally as she could, Natasha hid her away from anyone who could possibly be out to discover where the missing Romanoff was.

Anastasia grew, and soon it was easy to tell she was Natasha's daughter. Much like her mother, Anastasia was full of intelligence from an early age, mastering languages and abilities no young girl would even think about. Not only did she physically look like her mother, but she had also inherited the power to heal, think, and fight above average. Of course her mother took notice as Anastasia's curiosity grew, and soon Anastasia was trained and disciplined to use her abilities and powers expertly and to her advantages. Natasha disapproved of Anastasia even dipping her toes into the water of espionage and "heroism", but she knew Anastasia was determined to be the best she could be.

Anastasia grew to be the young woman Natasha once was, and Natasha knew in no time Anastasia would want to travel out of their small town and put her abilities to use. Though reluctant, Anastasia's parents allowed her to travel back to where her mother once was, and though people didn't recognize Anastasia's name, as soon as they caught a glimpse of her they knew whose daughter she was. She came equipped with her mothers old suit she was bore, as well as special equipment and gadgets her mother once used.





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h e x c o d e x // x #F4A460 x // x f a c e c l a i m x // x jennifer lawrence x // x c r e a t o r x // x galatea x // x c s x // x Scar.-

So begins...

Anastasia Petrovna's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jensen Jones Character Portrait: Gwen Queen-Lance Character Portrait: Anastasia Petrovna Character Portrait: Harley Williams
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xxxG W E N x Q U E E N-L A N C E
FCD116


Gwen watched with wide eyes as Jensen downed her alcohol, she didn't even wince once, Gwen's eyes watered at the thought of even sipping what she was drinking. Neither she nor Jensen reacted to Ross leaving, even though one of them probably should have made sure he got to his room at the very least, but Gwen needed to be caught up on what was happening. Unfortunately, a drink-to-forget Jensen was her only option right now.

"I dunno, like some giant clusterfuck. You seen the hole in the side of the building?" Jensen took another drink, giving Gwen some time to reply.
"It's hard to miss," Gwen put it bluntly. "Although the ballroom is something else."

"So there's this... gala, right, there's United Nations and bloody Thaddeus Ross, some winged gal joining us from the U.N. Temporarily. Whatever. If she's a spy, she's doing a shit job of it because she just went up on stage and announced it to the entire ballroom that she was joining as a student. Then these goons fuckin' blast a hole into the ballroom. Boom." Jensen expanded her hands outwards, as if mimicking the explosion she was making the sound effects for, her hand was about an inch away from hitting Gwen in the face. "And they have these gas... things. They're grabbing students. Shot a claw right through Wren's chest like Moby Dick." Gwen audibly gasped, the image in her head wasn't one she wanted to remember for very long, she grabbed her wine glass and downed whatever was left of it, as the bartender returned to top it up, she silently indicated for him to leave the bottle. "Couldn't stop them, you know. They were prepared for us. I watched them pull Wren into a waiting helicopter. Then some bastard whacked me in the face - pow - and jabbed me with a needle. Next thing I know, I wake up feeling like shit." The sound that came from Jensen's mouth wasn't a particularly pleasant one, but Gwen could recognise that it was a laugh. "But when don't I feel like shit? I'm used to it. I'm worried about Wren. Pretty, tough, dangerous Wren... at least they can't kill her. Well, they could. But she'll be back. Hasta la vista, baby." Gwen raised an eyebrow as Jensen started cackling at her own joke, she could appreciate wanting to laugh given the situation, anything to keep yourself from ruminating on it she guessed.

"Christ, any wonder an alert was sent out. Who else did they take?" Gwen then chewed her lower lip for a bit, she looked at her cackling, drunk bar buddy. She wasn't oblivious to the fact that Jensen was a little more than focused on Wren during her retelling, but she would eventually get to that point, even if she should keep her nose out of Jensen's business. She took a sip from her wine glass and picked up her phone to double check if she'd received any new notifications. There was none.


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xxxH A R L E Y x W I L L I A M S
FCD116

Harley was awoken by the noise of screaming, he'd grown accustomed to the screams he could hear at the facility, but these screams, they were different. These weren't the screams that came from cruel experiments on unwilling subjects, these screams got their origins from outright torture. He looked across the hall at the blond woman who'd been his silent neighbour for some time.

"I wonder how long it'll be until it's us making those noises." Harley leant against his glass cell, then his face went flush. "Not in like, a sexual way. Just that... What I mean is I wonder how long these people will keep us before they decide we're disposable." He stuck his face right up against the glass and angled himself to try and get a better view of the facility, he'd established long ago that it wasn't a hospital, but it definitely wasn't a prison either, from what he could gather. There was guards, sure, but their corridor was only patrolled every so often, not constantly guarded.

He looked back the girl and smiled, "I'm Harley, by the way. Harley Williams. Probably should have introduced myself sooner, since we've been sharing this corridor for some time."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Anastasia Petrovna Character Portrait: Harley Williams
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#, as written by Galatea
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xxxxxxxxprotege of black widowxxxxxx#F4A460xxx






Anastasia would've thought she had kept a pretty low profile ever since she travelled to America. No one know who she was, where she was, or what she was up to. She stayed quiet at a cheap hotel during her first couple days. It was no "chocolate on the pillow" hotel. The receptionist smelled of stale perfume and the tables had ashtrays instead of flowers. It was dingy, dark and cheap. Perfect. Anastasia kept her tinted sunglasses on and said nothing as the room key was dropped into the lines of her hand. She hid behind a cheap numbered door while the air conditioning delivered the virus more efficiently than room service. She travelled without noise over the dense carpet, littered with unvacuumed dirt and dark without illumination from the strip-lights above. Now they was just plastic casings on the crudely artexed ceiling, about as useful as a knife in a gunfight.The stairwell was just as deserted as the rest of the place. The third floor welcomes her with the hush of a graveyard but without the courtesy of the dead being six feet under. Already some watery light struggles through the window. She pulled her curtain closed.

The bed of cheap stripped pine with its rough canvas mattress was jammed into the corner of the long, drafty room. Without the large bed it would seem quite cavernous, perhaps with it's stone floor and corniced ceiling it might even seem quite grand to Anastasia, but like this it was reminiscent of the economy section of some clapped out train carriage. At opposite end of the bed the light shone dimly through the grimy mullioned window onto the grey bedding and the grey, dusty floor. Outside to the horizon one could only see where the grey sky blended into the grey of buildings. If there was a color to sum up life in the dormitory, grey would be it; an anthem for her life in a grey shabby tank-top eating grey food to the grey drone of silence.

That was until she had finally stepped out of her room one day, only to be welcomed by gunshots. She quickly grabbed the glock neatly strapped to her inner thigh and shot her rounds back at the two men yelling at each other in Russian. One of the men grew the courage to come tumbling towards her to pin her against the wall, but not before she had shot a bullet into his leg and gave him a nasty punch to the nose. He knocked the glock out of her hand, which she only returned the favour by tossing his gun to the side. The other man soon came barrelling towards her as well, tackling her by the waist just as she was distracted by the painful blows she was delivering to the other man who was already groaning in agony from the wound to his leg. Anastasia felt the air be knocked out of her lungs as her and the man went for a trip tumbling down the stairs.

Purple welts were formed and scattered across her abdomen like a disease. It hurt to breathe and she quickly wondered if some ribs were cracked. She quickly regained her thoughts and ability to move long before the man had did so and outstretched her leg from her seating position on the ground to jab him in the ribs with a kick. The man, about a foot taller than she, seized her leg and dragged her to him in a blink of an eye. Anastasia pulled out hair in handfuls, scratched, bit, kicked and head-butted, only to be handed a agonizing slap to her cheek that made her fall to the ground once again -- the side of her face stinging red with blood beginning a steady red stream down from her nose. She felt her hair suddenly be grabbed from behind her, causing her head to be violently jerked back as she stared down at yet another man who had been called by the others for assistance. Before she could react, she had a white cloth brought to her mouth and nose, cutting off her access to clean air as the head-spinning stench of chemicals filled her senses. She did the only thing she was capable of doing in that moment and jerked her limbs around violently, elbowing and kicking the men who surrounded her but to no justice, she soon felt darkness consume her vision.

---

There is something disturbing about this concrete box she was in. It had been engineered with absolute precision. The corners were sharp and straight.Someone designed this jail cell, they sat in a clean office under the glow of the natural sunrays and used their God given talents to create something so soulless as to constitute additional punishment. By the time a person is let out, if they are let out, they probably rarely recall their name and have lost most of their vocabulary. For the most part their sanity is shot, they swing between crying for the mothers and battling invisible demons. She could only imagine.

None of the guards talked to her, but she didn't need explaining. She knew exactly where she was and who brought her there. She heard screams from other cells and they paralyzed her, though she didn't react to them. Anastasia carelessly dragged her outstretched her feet from her seated position against the cool wall, the baggy t-shirt pierced with holes, stained with blood hung from her figure. Her skin had ruptured above the growing purple blooms. Every movement hurt. Bruises freckled along her arms and legs and her cheek was a nasty swollen crimson colour.

"I wonder how long it'll be until it's us making those noises." Anastasia raised her head, finally hearing the voice of the man she had been sharing the cell with the whole time. She searched his face, her eyes blank. "Not in like, a sexual way. Just that... What I mean is I wonder how long these people will keep us before they decide we're disposable." Her eyebrows only raised in question. He introduced himself, which Anastasia only stared at him blankly for a couple moments, deciding whether or not she should speak or just lower her head back down and remain silent, as if he had never spoken at all.

"Anastasia Petrovna." Her voice was hoarse, her Russian accent stringing through her words. "We'll mostly likely be able to recognize each other by our screams instead of our names in no time." She smirked slightly, the lighthearted joke rolling off her tongue like poison as she realized the situation they were both stuck in.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Caitria Allen
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#, as written by mjolnir
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wren wilson
deadpoolx|xoutfitx|x#BB141E


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frankie parker
spidermanx|xoutfitx|x#FF0057

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Wren took what moments she could to rest and reserve her energy for what was to come. She nodded her head and gave a brief smile to Lilith who took over unlocking everyone else. As she sat there her gaze slowly scanned all the others until it stopped on Frankie. The blonde stared back at her with a horrified and disgusted look. Wren shook her head with a slight roll of her eyes, deciding to look in a different direction. If Ms. Golden-girl wanted to judge her for killing the Hydra guard then so be it. She was doing what needed to be done, regardless of what weaker stomachs in the group thought. She was used to being disliked by half of the people at the academy, what difference would this make?

While everyone was being freed, Wren forced herself to bend and twist her left hand. The sound of the joints and bones slowly healing crunched and snapped during the movement. With each pop her eyes twitched slightly at the pain. She no doubt was healing, but it was slow... Much slower than she was used to and it seemed that everything hurt more. She did her best to keep breathing steady, keeping her injured hand close to her chest as she leaned forward. With her right hand she took the dead guard's pistol off his body, along with the two extra clips he hand. But it was enough... For now.

Frankie quickly found herself grow ansty and impatient as Lilith moved around the cell helping everyone out of their bindings. She wanted out of this place as much as the rest of them, but more than that she wanted away from the blood thirst... be it the Hydra soldiers or Wren. Unfortunately, something inside her told her she wasn't going to get through this without seeing a lot more death. Her attention was quickly brought to the present when Lilith unlocked her cuffs. Frankie sighed, rubbing her wrists and then lethargically moved to her feet.

“Let's go.”

Wren's attention was drawn toward Ulrich as he held out something toward her, his jacket. Her brows furrowed slightly at the offering as her hand hesitantly took the offered clothing. "Thanks," she said quietly. She had almost completely forgotten about the state of her gown, nor did she care much about her modesty in a situation like this. But, she surprisingly appreciated the gesture... Especially when it came from someone she didn't expect.

She draped the jacket over her left arm and accepted his extended hand with her right. With Ulrich's help, Wren got back on her feet but she didn't release his hand just yet. Her eyes closed as she waited for the head rush to fade away. With her balance regained, she slipped on the jacket and buttoned it up. It was definitely big on her, but it still gave her a free range of motion which was most important. Wren stuff the extra clips in the left pocket and the gun in the right. Wren let herself slump against the wall as the others began to discuss plans. As they spoke, she leaned down and ripped free most of the train of her dress. She tore a strip from it and used it as a makeshift tourniquet for her broken hand while it healed at a snail's pace.

"So, what's our plan? If we even have one right now..." Caitria asked.

"You go scout the building, tell us the best escape route, how much fire power we should expect, and we skip into the sunset." That was a quick answer. But the sound of splitting up didn't sit well with Frankie. None of them were at their best... And who knew how many other Hydra soldiers were in the building. "At least that'd be a decent plan if anybody were expendable. But we probably shouldn't risk splitting up," Ulrich admitted. "My plan honestly is to avoid getting caught and killed."

"Are you ready?" Ulrich asked, seeming to aim that question more at Frankie than anyone else. She nodded her head in acknowledgement but didn't say anything. Was she ready? As much as she would ever be she supposed. Her gaze moved to Wren as she pushed off the wall with her shoulder and moved slowly toward the cell entrance. As she moved, her right hand dug out the pistol. She popped out the clip to check that it was full, before snapping it back into the gun and cocking it.

"Is that necessary?" Frankie asked Wren, her gazed locked on the gun.

"Do you have a better idea?" Wren snapped. When Frankie didn't respond, she continued. "They have the power to put us all right back here or kill us. If we get out, they'd hunt us. And then they'd go after the academy... again. But we wouldn't be there to help." She paused for a moment, allowing a moment for what she is saying to sink in. "I didn't break my hand and willingly get tortured to get put back in here and let my friends die. So... I'm going to kill every single one of these mother fuckers. And, you can either help or get the fuck out of my way."

Frankie felt her blood boil at every word Wren said, partly because she didn't agree with the excessive spilling of blood. But even worse was part of her deep down kind of agreed. In the true grim reality, could they get out without spilling blood? Would that just put their friends' and families' lives on the line? Either way they didn't have time to argue. So, Frankie opted for the second option. She clenched her jaw as she took a step back from the door, diverting her gaze.

Wren was never the type to come off polite and gentle, but even if she was, this was not the time for that. At the current moment she didn't care what they thought. She looked over toward Lilith and motioned to the door trying. "Do you mind? Please." As she worked on unlocking the door, Wren glanced over her shoulder toward Ulrich. "You have X-ray vision, right? Do you think you could find us the fastest and most direct route out of here?"

Once the door was open, Wren poked her head out to check both directions. "We need to make a detour." Before anyone could start getting huffy or their panties in a bunch, she held up her hand to silence them. "There are others that are trapped here too. We could use the help and we can't leave them behind."

Whether or not the others followed her was irrelevant. Wren was going to go free them too. She remembered passing them when she was dragged away and they weren't far. She tried to be as stealthy as possible, tip toe-ing down the corridor. Once she reached a turn she stopped, leaning her head forward enough to see around the wall. There were two guards, but they were lined up so that, in the right angle, she get them both with one shot. But the minute a gun was fired they wouldn't have long.

Wren looked back and motioned for Lilith to come toward her. "I need your help," she whispered. "There are two cells. I can get one if you can get the other... But we have to be fast."

"Hey on the off chance you are not Hydra how about helping me out of here, I can help you all get out?!" A voice called from one of the cells.

Wren groaned under her breath, rounding the corner far sooner than she was planning. "You couldn't have stayed quiet for like one more minute," she bitched toward the voice of one of the prisoners. While doing so she also gained the attention of the guards. In a single swift movement she raised the pistol and pulled the trigger. The bullet raced through the air slamming one guard in the head then the next. The hall went silent for a moment before they both collapsed on the ground. She hurried up and grabbed keys from one of the guards. She ran past the first cell which held two people, a man and woman and move to the second room which had another male. Wren slid the gun in the pocket of the jacket Ulrich gave her and proceeded to unlock the door.

Once the door was open, she hurried inside over to the blonde man. When Wren reached him, she grew dizzy again, stumbling against the wall to keep from falling down. "Fuck," she cursed. She took a deep breath then pushed past it. Wren unlocked his cuffs as quickly as she could manage, then shoved the keys in a pocket. "Alright, gabby. We gotta go." She hooked her left hand around him, ignoring the pain from the broken bones and helped him to his feet. In that moment, she was thankful that she had super human strength because this dude was a giant and was some how even heavier than he looked. She had no idea how much energy he hand, so she kept her left arm around his torso to try and give him support. She helped him put his right arm across her shoulders as they made their way out of the cell and back down the hall toward the others.

The second she rounded the corner the main lights went out. Red flashing illuminated the hallways while an alarm blared, echoing off the walls. When Wren caught Ulrich's gaze she shouted down toward him. "Go!" She adjusted her hold on the large blonde male hoping that she could hold up until they got out and that Ulrich could find them a way out.

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ross mcculloch
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"...Thanks. I think," Petra said in response to Ross' compliment. Yes it was a drunken compliment, but he meant it at least. She even allowed him to play with her hair for a moment before batting away his hand. Then as he reached to touch his very swollen nose, she reacted quickly trying to stop him. "Hey. Don't do that. Come on." Petra quickly snatched up his hand, keeping him from touching his face. He was too tired and way too drunk to try and fight her. He simply sighed, blowing air out between his lips. Maybe if he were more sober he would have noticed how her hold on his hand lingered, but it went by unnoticed as his attention was focused on remaining standing.

"Why are you always hurting yourself? First getting your face beat in, then drinking yourself stupid when you're in this state? Do you not think before you act? What did you say - even if it meant your life for mine? Do you really think you're worth that little?" Petra scolded him, shaking his hand as she spoke at him out of frustration. Ross' brows furrowed as he focused on her, trying his best to focus on each word through his inebriation.

"'m not always trying to hurt me self," Ross corrected through slurred words. "'n I do think. Thank ya very much. It was my thinkin' that kept you..." He motioned his free hand up and down at her. "You." His brows furrowed a bit as he took a deep breath, trying to focus through the alcohol. "'n I drank to ferget that me face is fucked up ta hell 'n back... 'n that y'were pissed at meh."

He cleared his throat, focusing on the elevator doors before him. Ross remained quiet for a long moment, allowing his drunken mind to process the rest of what she said and pick the right words before vomitting out his thoughts. "Ya can ask anyone... Aye don' think little of me self. Aye like me self a lot, actually." He then looked over at her and if, for just a moment, he seemed completely sober. "Aye just think more of you... Sue me." There it was. That's the way to a girl's heart tell her she's special and then add some unneeded snark at the end. Ross would be kicking himself for saying that last bit in the morning. But there was little to no filter when alcohol was involved.

Petra's grip released his hand. "I'm not angry. At you." Ross snorted, unable to hide his amusement at her comment. She sure acted like she was angry. "I just don't agree with what you think, about either of us," she added with a quieter tone as if she was trying to keep the walls from overhearing their conversation.

Ross' gaze fell to the ground as he digested what she said. She probably meant it in a simple way, but his mind was plagued by the alcohol along with the assumption that she was partly angry because she didn't think of him in the way he thought of her. In his mind 'I don't agree with what you think about either of us.' Equalled whatever crush or feelings he had were not reciprocated and that she did not think that way about them. Sounded about right in his mind. "Ya could have just said that in the beginnin'." Ross' voice was quiet and sounded defeated. But he didn't argue it or press the matter, simply accepting her opinion as what it was.

He wanted to walk to his room himself and just be alone, but Ross could barely stay standing and Petra didn't seem to be going anywhere until she got him to his room. He was prefectly fine in the elevator but no one else seemed to be. After she managed to help him into his room, she mumbled in aggravation as she guided him to a stool before an arcade game. "Why don't you have a proper couch like normal people." He sat down, half leaning back against the machine as she disappeared else where in his penthouse. Maybe if he was sober he'd be selfconscious about someone rummaging through his place, but he couldn't care less at the moment.

Ross must have started dozing off as he waited on Petra to return because upon her arrival it startled him, nearly making him fall off the stool. "Take this. It's hot," she warned him as she bent down beside him. She guided his hands to cup the mug, making sure he wouldn't drop it before releasing her hold on his hands. He brought the warm drink to his mouth, blowing on it a bit before taking a sip. "Are you going to throw up, should I get a bucket?"

He looked up at her from the corner of his eyes with the mug still pressed to his lips. After a moment, he with withdrew it, holding the mug in his lap. "'m Scottish... Aye know how ta hold me liquor," he mused, trying his best to make the conversation lighthearted, choosing not to focus on his own rejection, sadness and whatever else until he was alone. His thumb began to trace around the brim of the mug as he focused on its liquid contents. After a moment he sighed, glancing over at his company. "Ya don' have ta stay... Aye'll be alright."




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tobias lehnsherr
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"Stay," Wynne called after him as he rolled his wheelchair away. Tobias stopped where he was, willing the metal in the chair to slowly turn it to face her. "Please, don't go on my account. There's enough space for both of us. And I... might need an extra pair of eyes." She then tilted her head toward the popped stitches in her wing. "I mean - if you want to go, you know... I just meant you don't have to mind my presence..." The blonde then turned away, assumingly giving him space to leave if he so chose.

Tobias slowly rolled himself back to where he was, watching Wynne head over to the showers. Once she turned on the water, he adverted his eyes. It wasn't like she was naked or anything, but it felt wrong to watch. He was a polite gentleman and didn't want to make her uncomfortable. So while she cleaned her wounds, he made his way over behind the bar, searching for a first aid kit. Luckily, being an academy for 'heroes in training' there seemed to be first aid just about everywhere. He'd be lying if he didn't think it was appropriate. People like themselves were highly accident prone between training or their own egos.

He set the small metal box on his lap and rolled back out to the table as Wynne returned and took a seat. Once the wheelchair was pulled up to the table, he moved the first aid kit to the table and opened it. As he started sifting through it's contents, he glanced over at the blonde from the corner of his eyes as she spoke. "Sorry you had to see that. I don't get much chance to stretch these and practice, and keeping them folded up all the time, uh... It gets tiring, you know? Like if your hands were constantly bound behind your back."

"You don't need to apologize," Tobias said quietly. He continued to speak as he gathered what was needed form the box. "It's your mutation. All mutations are beautiful." He paused for moment, trying not to flinch at the realization that he sounded just like his father in that moment. He hated his father, but this was one thing he did agree with him on. "Especially one like yours... It's like any other muscle. If you don't use it, you'll lose it."

His brows furrowed slightly when he realized there was no peroxide or antiseptic in the first aid kit. Tobias held up his index in a just-a-moment gesture as he rolled himself back over to the bar. "I can levitate... But if I flied like you, I don't know if anyone could ever get me out of the sky," he said back toward Wynne as he sifted through the different bottles of liquor. He found the clearest fluid he could find, vodka, and made his way back over to her.

"This is a very peaceful spot. Do you come up here often?"

Tobias subconsciously slowed down his wheelchair as he returned, a little shocked at the question. It was a simple question. But it was... more personal than he expected someone like Wynne to ask. He half expected her to partake in a little small talk then dive into anything and everything about his father. That's how it usually went. He cleared his throat as he returned to the table. "Uh... Yes, I do. Not many of the others come up here." Tobias motioned his left index finger at her chair. Slowly and carefully he willed the metal within it, lifting and moving it so that she was sitting with her injured wing in front of him. "It's a good place to go when I don't want to be bothered," he added. But it wasn't in a snarky way as if a subtle way of saying he wanted her to leave, but more of just the truth of why he went up there often. "And I like to star gaze."

Off to the side, over the concrete, Tobias poured some of the alcohol over his hands to kill any germs. He probably looked like a natural as he prepped the materials. Between himself and his mother, he had to mend them more than a few times due to his father. Even before he came into his abilities, Tobias always had steady hands. "Alright... This is not going to feel good," he said with the alcohol in one hand and gauze in the other. He waited until she seemed prepared and poured the liquid over the would to clean it out. Once it was flushed out, he held the gauze to the opening with his right hand. His left then took one of her free hands, placing it over the gauze. "Hold that there for a moment."

He threaded the surgical needle seamlessly and then rolled his chair as close as he could manage. Tobias glanced over at the blonde, offering her his left hand in a silent gesture incase she needed something to hold onto. When she was ready, the fingers on his right hand moved slightly as he used his ability to steadily move the needle in and out of her flesh. He made quick work of it, able to move quicker using his mind rather than his hand. In no time the wing was stitched up. He knotted off the end and cut the string, then rolled back over to the first aid kit to clean everything up. "All done," he concluded as he gathered up the garbage and blood stained gauze.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Jensen Jones Character Portrait: Gwen Queen-Lance Character Portrait: Anastasia Petrovna Character Portrait: Harley Williams Character Portrait: Haldor Thorson
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xxxG W E N x Q U E E N-L A N C E
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Gwen cringed at the same time as the bartenders wince, she could feel the burn of the alcohol. How Jensen knocked it back like that? She'd never know.
"An alert? What, we've got Mycroft sending out newsletters to old students now?" Jensen laughed loudly, slightly uncomfortably for Gwen, unsure if she should be offended. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're back. Glad you're back... Good to have you back. One just wishes it wasn't under these circumstances, y'know."
“Jensen, babe, I'm in your year…” She smiled awkwardly, she knew they weren't close and they only greeted each other in passing, but she didn't think Jensen would forget her after being away for a few months. “I was only taking leave to protect my dad during his political campaign.” She chuckled lightly after realising the joke about a newsletter, realising she wasn't serious. “Oh you were joking. Yeah I think S.H.I.E.L.D sent it out for anyone who could first respond to the attack. Had a lovely recipe for spicy Black Canary.”

Gwen’s glance at her phone was observed and she blushed as she heard Jensen’s question.
"Somewhere important you have to be?" Gwen chuckled.
"No, I'm just -"
"Shit!" Gwen had never seen someone move so fast for their phone, not even the speedsters rushed that quickly to their phones. Gwen tried not to pry, but she stole a quick glance at the last message she'd received.

[ From: Mom ]
[ JJ. Please just let me know if you're fine. If anyone's reading this, please call me. ]

Gwen smiled at the photo, warmed by the sight of Jensen being cared for. She didn't have much to go on about Jensen or her mother. But she did know Jensen drank a lot as did her mother and that a lot of people put a bad light on her and Gwen had always assumed they didn't have a connection. But she was glad she could admit she was wrong. Feeling guilty for assuming their family situation.

Gwen drank the rest of the wine in front of her as Jensen spoke to her mum. Unable to get the barman’s attention for a refill until Jensen finished her phone call, which she announced the slam of her phone. She waved at Gwen.
"If you have to go, go. Don't let ol' Smashed Jen here keep you down."

“Oh, no.” Gwen refused. “I'm just waiting for Ulrich to message me back…” she admitted to Jensen. “Nowhere to be.” She finally got the bartender's attention. “So… can I get a strawberry daiquiri with double rum and 2 jägerbombs and a kamikaze?” She then turned and looked at Jensen. “Guess I've got to catch up on you. So shots first then daiquiri.” She then tapped the bar excitedly. “We can even play never have I ever. First to pass out or tap out loses.” Jensen could pile back the drink, but Gwen’s metahuman metabolism could give her a fair fight against Jensen.


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xxxH A R L E Y x W I L L I A M S
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Harley blushed as the girl stared at him blankly, worried that the double innuendo had offended her. So he quickly explained his joke, only to receive another blank stare. He chuckled nervously before introducing himself, there was a very brief pause, as if she sizing him up.
"Anastasia Petrovna." She replied and Harley smiled at her, happy she felt comfortable with him. "We'll mostly likely be able to recognize each other by our screams instead of our names in no time." An amused puff of air escaped his nose.
“You wouldn't be the first to recognise me by my scream.” Harley clicked his tongue. “But you would be the first woman. So that's gotta count for something.” He clapped his hands.

“Is that a Russian accent?” He asked, hoping to get to know her a little better. “Where did they -" Before Harley could finish his question, two more voices filled the corridor.
"Hey on the off chance you are not Hydra how about helping me out of here, I can help you all get out?!"
"You couldn't have stayed quiet for like one more minute," A gunshot echoed out from down the hall, Harley's fight or flight instincts kicked in and his human form disappeared, replaced by his form made up completely of purple energy.

"Maybe we won't need to recognise each other's screams after all." Harley offered Anastasia his hand to help her up. He looked out to the corridor and called to whoever was out there. "What about us?"



Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Anastasia Petrovna Character Portrait: Harley Williams
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xxxC A I T R I A x A L L E Nx.xx#7B7383x
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"You go scout the building, Ulrich suggested immediately. "Tell us the best escape route, how much firepower we should expect, and we skip into the sunset." Caitria raised an eyebrow at the light tone he used. Ulrich approached the blonde, bumping Caitria with his arm in a friendly manner, smiling slightly. "At least that'd be a decent plan if anybody were expendable. But we probably shouldn't risk splitting up." Caitria nodded in agreement.

"My plan honestly is to avoid getting caught and killed," Ulrich finished, crossing his arms. Caitria snorted jokingly.

"Isn't that all of our objectives?" she asked lightly, the question clearly rhetorical.

After Wren and Frankie talked some things out, the former glanced at Ulrich, requesting the man to utilize his x-ray vision while Lilith got the door open.

"We need to make a detour. There are others that are trapped here too. We could use the help and we can't leave them behind."

Caitria trailed behind Wren as the redhead located the rest of the prisoners, catching sight of a few guards in the process.

"Hey, on the off-chance you are not Hydra, how about helping me out of here, I can help you all get out?!" A masculine voice shouted out, the man behind it clearly not staying quiet for the guards.

Wren groaned audibly but went to rescue the prisoners nonetheless. She was back relatively quickly, but Caitria's relief didn't last long, the hallway's main lights abruptly shutting off and being replaced with red flashes and blaring alarms. "Go!" Wren shouted towards Ulrich, who was most likely trying to find a way out of the entire place with his x-ray vision.

"What about us?" Another voice called out from down the corridor. Caitria groaned internally but flashed a grin to the rest of the group. "You guys go on ahead, I'll get them out shortly." With that, Caitria quickly grabbed the keys out of Wren's pocket and dashed towards the direction of the voice, unlocking the door and the two prisoners' handcuffs with superhuman speed.

Caitria wrestled with the male's cuffs, getting them off after a few twists of the key. "How has your guys' day been?" the blonde asked in the process, the underlying tone of sarcasm clear in her words. "I'm Caitria Allen, daughter of Flash. As much as it pains me to say it, I'm not nearly as strong as I am fast, so I hope you can walk on your own."

Despite what Caitria said, she still attempted to lift the blonde woman, who looked in much worse shape than the man did. She dashed back out, managing to carry the woman three-fourths of the way to where the others were by sheer force of speed itself. She ran back for the man, transporting him a few meters behind his fellow cellmate. Caitria's gaze flickered around the corridor, evaluating her current situation.

"I might be able to catch you guys up to the others right now, but I'm definitely not strong enough to carry either of you beyond that," Caitria said, "so I really hope you can move on your own."

Caitria took a deep breath, loosely grabbing the woman again in what looked to be the least painful areas, bringing her to where the others moved to. She ran back to the man to do the same, just barely managing to catch him up to Wren and the rest of the gang. The blonde speedster rubbed her biceps, muttering, "yeah, I'm not made for heavy lifting."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Anastasia Petrovna
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xxxxxxxU L R I C HxxZ O D
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xxxxxxxxxxparentage: Dru-Zod
xxxxxxxxxxoutfit: Gala
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"Is that necessary?"
Ulrich gave Frankie a questionable look before Wren argued her point. The context was all suddenly there. Wren wanted a rampage, and Frankie wanted to avoid excessive violence.
Ulrich sighed through his nose, and his eyes darkened. They were going to make it nowhere if they wasted time arguing among each other. As long as they locked into one method, and preferably all survived, that's what mattered. But the hostility seemed to disperse quickly- more so through tolerance on Frankie's side.
As long as their verbal differences ended, and they didn't disturb the plan, that's what mattered.
"You have X-ray vision, right? Do you think you could find us the fastest and most direct route out of here?"

Ulrich nodded and took three strides out of the cell. "We need to make a detour." He froze. His fists clenched together and he suppressed a groan.
"There are others that are trapped here too. We could use the help and we can't leave them behind."
We!? Where did this we come into it?
He didn't see it but he felt a few of them follow Wren to rescue the others. He sighed out and recomposed himself. His gaze penetrated through the walls. The soldiers appeared to be littered in the halls, everyone one of them armed. There was no easy escape route. And the only direct route he could find was through the walls. Suddenly an alarm wailed, and the lights shut off to illuminate the halls in red.
"Go!" Wren shouted.
Ulrich flashed ahead suddenly and took the first lot of soldiers rounding the corner. He broke one's arm, pushed another into a wall with such force that it caused a dent and scolded another.
Corner by corner, he'd speed ahead and glance back at the group to make sure they weren't dragging too far behind and weren't heavily outsourced, outmanned and outgunned.
"Almost there!"

As if cursed, he heard the thundering boots of more soldiers and scanned the walls just to confirm it. Heavily armoured, with lots of fire power. Ulrich cringed and put his shoulder to his ear. Focusing his senses with the alarm and lights didn't do him any favors. Ulrich barged into the wall, once then twice trying to create that new direct route out. But before the third, the soldiers were there and Ulrich stood with his fists clenched and chest puffed out facing them. He could take a few bullets, until the rest kept them occupied or weaved through them like obstacles or helped break the wall down.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Anastasia Petrovna
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#, as written by Talak
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HALDOR THORSONhex // DAA01A


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Haldor was somewhat surprised to see such a small person as Wren as she hurriedly entered the room whatever had happened to her it seemed to have taken its toll as she propped herself against the wall. She seemed to have little trouble managing him despite his size he chuckled to himself when she called him gabby and turned to her as she helped him along

"Thank you, now I can repay the hospitality of Hydra properly"

no sooner than they had made it into the hallway the alarm starting going off he growled at his body clearly affected by the drugs that Hydra had used on him. He willed himself to move under his own power but it was not happening. Though with Asgardian physiology he knew such tricks would not last for long now that there was not a constant supply and he was up and moving. Wren and moved hurriedly along the cooridor until Haldor stopped when he noticed one of the bodies on the floor, a hydra guard lying dead in a pool of his own blood. The unfortunate soul who appeared to have a hole in his head from a gun had both of Haldor's swords strapped to his back like some sort of trophy, Haldor atumbled over slightly before reaching down and pried both of his swords from the corpse that he now stood over.

"I will be taking those back thank you. You'll not be needing them."

he quickly attached each sword to its place on his sides and turned back to Wren still rather unsteady on his feet but recovering rather quickly, he returned to Wren and they quickened the pace as they moved down the cooridor he made out a group of, he assumed escapees. It seemed a mismatched bunch but he knew better than to underestimate the people of Midgard that was one thing his father made sure he knew. He got a good sense of them rather quickly, some seemed to have experience in battle others seemed terrified he had seen those expressions a few times to be sure.

"Thank you for your help" he spoke up to Wren right before a group of guards rounded the corner running at them he watched Ulrich dispatch them quite effectively he chuckled a bit, no time for talk or thanks fine by him. He watched Ulrich as he started smashing through the wall Haldor still unsteady walked over to Ulrich and unsheathed both of his swords and lightning began dancing over the length of the blades and even arching between them. He looked to Ulrich then at the group of heavily armed thugs.

"Somehow I doub't very much they can handle both of us.. Shall we test them?" he pointed one of his blades at the hydra guards and an bolt of lightning shot from it hitting one of them in the chest before throwing him through the group and back against the wall of the cooridor leaving a smoking hole in his armor before he slumped to the ground clearly dead. That is when something abnormal happened, the power he had unleashed felt like it left him entirely though while effective against the one grunt it should have taken out the lot of them, and he found himself feeling quite weak, this was not right.. Hydra had done something and he would find out what but for now, he felt his rage building for now he would take it out on those in front of him.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Anastasia Petrovna
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#, as written by mjolnir
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wren wilson
deadpoolx|xoutfitx|x#BB141E


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frankie parker
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"Thank you, now I can repay the hospitality of Hydra properly,” the man said as Wren helped him out of the cell.

She gave a weak laugh with a roll of her eyes. ”Whatever you say Rapunzel,” she replied, adjusting herself underneath his arm.

As they made their way back to the others, a pair of swords caught the man’s eyes. Confiscated weapons? Apparently. The blonde slid from her hold to take them from the corpse. As she waited, Wren let her body slump against the wall, her free hand grasping at her side. "I will be taking those back thank you. You'll not be needing them.” When he returned to her, she pushed of the wall and quickened her pace alongside him.

"What about us?” a male voice called from the other cell as Wren walked past, supporting the large blonde. God, she was weak. Whatever Hydra had injected her with, they knew what they were doing. It was like she could feel her body, deep down inside fighting to heal herself like a person sifting through quicksand. Her cells her making bonds, detaching then bonding again. It was like her body was fighting itself. Wren never felt so exhausted in her life. But regardless of what energy she didn’t possess, she pushed through. She could rest when she’s dead… Or after she’s bathed in these fuckers’ blood.

Before Wren could try to rest the blonde against the walls and go back to the other cell, Caitria was there. "You guys go on ahead, I'll get them out shortly.” She then took the keys from Wren’s pocket and made her way back toward the other cell. There wasn’t time to wait, she was already moving slow enough with blondie’s help. One thing Wren was certain of, was that Caitria would catch up, so she pushed forward with the group.

"Thank you for your help,” the man said toward Wren as they reached the group. She didn’t have time to answer, nor did she really know what to say. She simply nodded her head before looking toward the approaching Hydra soldiers.

Frankie was like a frighten sheep, trapped between the wolves and their thirst for blood. But the hunters weren’t the Hydra soldiers, but those of her friends. While Ulrich worked his way through oncoming guards, she kept herself close behind him. Why couldn’t she fight? Why didn’t she feel like a frightened child surrounded by murders? Maybe she was… Just a frightened child. As they moved forward, Frankie ripped at the train of her dress to allow for more movement although she still was struggling to bring herself to fight.

Trailing behind, Wren kept her back to the group. Her free hand that wasn’t supporting the male held the pistol at the ready. Before a Hydra guard had a chance to fully round a corner, they were met with a bullet between their eyes. She was beyond caring about what the others thought of her. Wren’s mind was focused on one thing and that was getting out… Getting out before she collapsed from exhaustion and got left behind.

She found strength within, somewhere deep down when the blonde man left her side and joined Ulrich. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Wren stayed at the back of the group, scavenging clips and a second pistol from the fallen soldiers. They came from all directions like cockroaches, never ending like a swarm. With the occasional glance over her shoulder, Wren continued walking backwards following the group letting off round after round. One bullet per guard. Critical shot after shot.

A gasp escaped Frankie’s lips as they were all quickly surrounded. The numbers wouldn’t be overwhelming if they were all at peak. But they weren’t. She stepped out of the way as the large blonde male went to stand beside Ulrich. "Somehow I doubt very much they can handle both of us.. Shall we test them?” Her gaze drifted between the two. It wasn’t enough.

Then like the breath was finally released all the guards came at them at once. Gun fire echoed throughout the halls, ringing with the alarms. As everyone was drawn in different directions, Frankie was as alert as she could manage. She dodged hits and swings, being careful to only break arms and legs… Not kill. They were unending. No matter how quick she was, incapacitating them wasn’t fast enough.

While snapping one’s leg another slid by, going for Ulrich while he was distracted. Frankie moved through the chaos, jumping on the back of the soldier. Her right arm hooked around his neck while she kicked off the wall, bringing backwards with her. ”Surrender!” Frankie demanded in the man’s ear as her grip tightened. The guard tried slamming her back against the wall but she didn’t let go. ”Surrender and you’ll live.”

Maybe time went by too fast, or was it too slow? Only the sound of her own heart beating flooded her ears. But then the man held in her grasp began to grow weak until he slumped to the floor. Frankie gasped, quickly releasing her hold and taking a step back. But the man didn’t move. Her hands began to shake as she stood immobile amongst the war in the corridor. When an eternity passed, she knelt down to check his pulse. And when she felt nothing, the blood rushed from her face. Frankie grew light headed and paler than a ghost, frozen like a statue.

Wren didn’t falter nor stop. What was her count at? She couldn’t remember. The bodies were already stacking like a anatomical wall. Blood seeped along the floor, soaking the hem of her ruined evening gown. As quickly as they started they stopped. Maybe the bodies were stacked too high? Or maybe they were attacking from another front. Didn’t matter. They couldn’t go backwards and for the time being, their six’s were safe.

She pivoted on her heels and quickly closed the distance to the group. Wren aggressively pulled Frankie to her feet and herded her forward. She didn’t have time or care about what was bothering her. Shoving her way to the front, Wren wedged herself between the giant blonde and Ulrich just in time to shoot two more guards in the head before they reached them. ”We don’t have time for this. We need to go!!”

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Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Anastasia Petrovna
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H A R L E Y x W I L L I A M S
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Harley couldn't see the rescuers anymore, but he could still hear them. "You guys go on ahead, I'll get them out shortly." Seconds after the woman had finished speaking someone was already working on the cuffs around his wrist, she was shortly followed by a gust of wind. "How has your guys' day been?"
"Oh you know, working that 9-5, really just waiting until the moment I can clock out." Harley replied his rescuer, being as equally sarcastic.
"I'm Caitria Allen, daughter of Flash. As much as it pains me to say it, I'm not nearly as strong as I am fast, so I hope you can walk on your own." Before Harley could tell her that he was fine, she had already disappeared with Anastasia, and was shortly back to lift him.

"I might be able to catch you guys up to the others right now, but I'm definitely not strong enough to carry either of you beyond that," She told them. "So I really hope you can move on your own." And again they were off.

Once they had regrouped with the others, Caitria dropped Harley with a huff. "Yeah, I'm not made for heavy lifting." Harley placed a hand on her back and breathed in unison with her, his newly awakened powers transferred to her, and removed the pain and tightness she had from lifting both him and Anastasia. He gave her a friendly pat, to make it seem as if he was thanking her.
"Thank you, Caitria." His voice was sincere and his smile showed that he was worried that she'd exhausted herself. "Are you okay?"

As they followed along with their rescuers the alarm started to blare and the lights started to flash red. "So I take it that's our cue to leave?" Harley asked the group, but before he'd finished his sentence one had speed off and was smashing his way through the walls of the building. Harley could hear the thunderous footsteps of dozens, maybe hundreds of guards running their way. Harley hoisted Anastasia up and carried her in a fireman's lift as they chased after the group, unaware that the group itself was running right into the fight. Harley held back from joining the fight just yet, he wasn't even sure how his powers worked yet.

"We don’t have time for this. We need to go!!" Harley looked back up into where his rescuers were, the area looked clear for the moment.
"Wait here, Anastasia, I won't be long." Harley jogged up to the rescuers and focused on the corridors that the guards were using to reach them, before long massive walls of solid, burning hot ionic energy blocked them off. "How far until we're out of here?" Harley asked, now that they had a moment to rest.

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Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Anastasia Petrovna
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xxxxxxxU L R I C HxxZ O D
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A large man appeared by Ulrich and he thought he saw flashes of light dart between his blades. "Somehow I doub't very much they can handle both of us.. Shall we test them?" Ulrich smirked a little. Something told him the man beside him would move more at his pace. Before he could blink, a bolt shot forward and disposed of a guard, taking a few others for the ride but the guards just kept coming. Ulrich would manage to grapple a few and wrestle to incapacitate them much to his dismay - though relatively easy still it should have been a snap of his fingers effort wise and not his size overpowering the soldiers. Ulrich burned through others with his vision and he thought he heard some extra commotion behind him but he had to focus forward, especially when his heat vision cut off. Ulrich blinked a couple of times.

Wren wedged herself between himself and the blonde and the ground they were holding. "We don’t have time for this. We need to go!!"
Wasn't Wren the one promising a blood bath, now she was in a rush to get out.
"How far until we're out of here?" Another voice emerged.
Ulrich growled and threw a final fist into the building, making the wall finally crumble. "Go then!" And he grabbed the one with the greatest most annoying and costly antics being Wren and threw her out. "Anybody else wanna find another way out?"
He felt his respect meter, if such a thing existed, plummet, but essentially Wren would survive and she was out of sight and wouldn't have another dumb idea like "save all the laboratory animals". The alarms already irked him, being weak irked him and on top of that add a red head barking at him. Ulrich had to draw the line.

Ulrich waited by his improvised exit until all the descendants filed out. The landings weren't his issue, instead leaving that to the likes of others - whoever so possessed the ability to cushion some impact and cared enough about other metas. A minute longer in this rat warren and they'd become over-succumbed with guns, armour and reinforced equipment/technology to cripple a god. Hydra was persistent, he'd give them that. Just like he'd give a helpful nudge to whoever hesitated to take his exit.

As the last of them went through, Ulrich followed but not before a bullet made impact with his shoulder. His eyes turned red and his nostril flared. Ulrich forced himself to summon the strength to throw a large piece of rubble down the corridor. He heard a satisfying splat and yelling of different instructions. Now that was two corridors blocked so it should have bought them sufficient time. He joined his comrades with rough landing and was left panting. Ulrich glanced at his shoulder and all he could think of was how Gwen would react. She'd probably hit him than fret over him. And Ulrich probably had a queue of people wanting to hit him.

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Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Anastasia Petrovna
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Protege of Poison Ivy || #e116d8 || Outfit
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Lilith stuck with Frankie and Ulrich as Caitra and Wren headed off to liberate the other prisoners. Probably better that they did it than her as they were better in speed, strength and caring departments. Ulrich cleared the way of oncoming soldiers until the rest of the gang caught up with additional recruits. They were confronted with heavily armed soldiers and the diversion allowed more soldiers to sweep in from behind.

The biggest brutes of their group seemed to accept the challenge gladly as if it was play time, like they were boys again tormenting ants. But their performance and powers showed otherwise and everything happened at once.
Lilith ducked under the commotion and put her hand to a soldiers throat. A thorn emerged from her and penetrated his jugular. She couldn't tell if they were winning or losing, or what was happening, she just minded her own skin until there was some calm to spare to see everyone in one piece.

Wren yanked up a distraught Frankie, and Lilith placed a hand on spider girl's arm while the others went on about finding an escape. “It’s okay, you saved one of your own,” she tried to assure.

She jolted when she heard a loud bang and the walls crumble. "Go then!" Ulrich grabbed Wren and practically pushed her out. "Anybody else wanna find another way out?" Lilith stared, stunned for a moment. She didn't have her bearings, she didn't know where on Earth they were, she didn't know what would wait outside for them and she didn't know got into the Kryptonian, but she did know what was inside. Ulrich ushered them out and Lilith fretted where she'd wind up and land, hesitating by the crumbled wall before stepping out with a deep breath.

Once the last of them landed and recovered, she glanced back to the their recent jailbreak. “Let's keep moving.” She didn't trust anything this close to the Hydra facility, so they didn't have time to spare. And she'd travel back to the academy by herself if she had to, she'd simply rather not.

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Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod
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#, as written by mjolnir
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wren wilson
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frankie parker
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Frankie moved around like a dazed puppet. Her body was hoisted up from the ground and then shoved forward. Her eyes blinked lethargically as she turned her head to take in her surroundings. There was death… everywhere. The knot in her stomach twisted and turned. She fought ever urge to double over to heave. Nothing would come up, even if she did. They hadn’t eaten since the gala… there was nothing to vomit up, but the sensation didn’t leave. Her skin grew clammy, like a cold sweat.

Her gaze fallen back upon the solider on the ground, dead by her own hands. Frankie hadn’t realized she wasn’t breathing until a hand fell upon her shoulder, causing her to inhale a sharp breath and look toward them. “It’s okay, you saved one of your own,” Lilith said with some amount of reassurance.

Frankie couldn’t bring herself to speak, just simply nodded her head in acknowledgement. Everything was moving around her in a fast haze that she couldn’t follow it. That was until a loud slam seemed to shake the very ground beneath her feet. Following the noise, an external wall crumbled beneath Ulrich’s fist. She had never seen the man seem so… angry or annoyed or who knew what else.

“Go Then!” Ulrich all but growled at Wren. Before she could reply or try to exit herself, he threw her backward from the gaping hole. The shock took her voice from her, Wren couldn’t curse as the mother loving ape that pushed her out of the building like it was Sparta, nor could she scream. On her way down Wren felt the cool sensation of rain upon her skin, before her back slammed into the muddy earth beneath her, the wind knocked from her.

Seeing Ulrich pushed Wren from the building snapped Frankie from her daze. “What the hell, Ulrich?” Frankie shouted as she ran over to the hole in the wall. She rested her hand on the bricks, leading her head out into the rain to see if Wren was ok. Several feet below the red head coughed and writhed on the ground.

"Anybody else wanna find another way out?” Ulrich asked the rest of them.

Before he could throw anyone else out, Frankie motioned some of them forward. Even exhausted, she had enough of her strength to climb down to the ground. The tail of her grown dragged in the mud under foot as the rain seemed to fall heavier. There wasn’t much she could tell about their surroundings beyond it being dark outside and the entire building was surrounded by trees.

Wren slowly rolls over onto her side coughing and gasping for air. She grasped at her side as a pain shot from her ribs. Broken? Probably. She could still feel the effects of the drug in her system, fighting her body from healing itself. Wren inhaled sharp painful breaths as she looked over her shoulder toward the building seeing that she fell a good ten foot drop.

Frankie brushed her drenched hair from her face and trudged over to Wren. Not that either one of them remotely got along with the other, and she wouldn’t deny that Wren had gotten annoying in this situation. But, she wouldn’t have threw the girl from a building. And even though Frankie wouldn’t admit it to herself, Wren was taking control when no one else did. She was the reason they got out, so whatever other feelings she had, that was more important.

The blonde crotched down beside Wren, taking her arm carefully and draping it across her shoulders. Frankie wrapped her own arm around the girl’s waist and helped her to her feet. “Come on,” she said softly.

Wren let herself be helped by Frankie, thankful for the support. As they waited for the rest of the group to exit, she looked around for the next plan of action. In the distance over the ridge there was a large military grade cargo truck. It was wheels, which is all they needed. But it’d be safe to assume there weren’t keys left in the ignition. She pursed her lips and thought for a moment before looking back over to Frankie. “You’re smart, right?”


“Uh… yes?”

“Could you hotwire a car?” Wren asked, nodding her head in the direction of the truck. “I’ll watch your back.”

Frankie’s gaze followed Wren’s toward the truck. After a long moment, she nodded her head slightly. “I can try.”

They both made their way to the truck. As they got closer, Wren slipped herself from Frankie’s grasp and stumbled her way over toward a collection of pallets and wooden crates. At the first box, she shoved the lid off and sifted through the paper shreds but nothing was inside. She continued searching the other crates until she found an AK and… “Hell yes,” she whispered to herself.

Wren put the gun strap of the Ak over her head, swinging it behind her to free her hands. She then leaned down and grasped the weapon inside. With a groan, she hefted the bazooka from it’s container. With a weapon of that size in her hands and after everything they had been through, she could fight the devious grin that overcame her face. There was only one rocket left, but that was all she needed.

Frankie broke the driver’s side window, and quickly got to work trying to wire the truck. Shortly after she got started a heavy weight in the bed shook the vehicle, causing her to poke her head out the door. She found Wren patting the side of the truck, smiling toward Frankie. “Bazooka,” was all she said with a smile before turning back toward the building and started picking off soldiers one by one with the rifle, covering the others’ backs as they tried to exit.

Frankie’s eyes widened at the comment of a rocket launcher. She’d argue that it wasn’t necessary but there was no time, nor would Wren listen. Instead she focused back at the task at hand, giving the wires a few more strikes until… The engine began to rumble.

“Yes!” Wren shouted, slapping the side of the truck with her hand.

Frankie could barely contain her excitement as the truck’s engine rumbled. She opened the door and turned towards the others. She stood on the side of the truck with her hands on the door and roof. “Let’s go!!”

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ross mcculloch
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Ross glanced over his shoulder slightly toward Petra as she extended her hand toward his shoulder, touching it softly. But it was brief. Then she quickly withdrew her hand. He sighed softly, letting his gaze fall to his hands but said nothing. Of course, he’d like her to stay but Ross wasn’t dumb and knew when he was asking too much. She was already pissed at him for what he did… And even more annoyed at his present inebriation, so instead of making it worse, he accepted it.

“If you say so. Go rest. And maybe drink some water to ease the hangover that's waiting for you.” With that, Petra made her way toward the door of his penthouse. With her back toward him, Ross watched her leave. His gaze met hers when she paused at the exit to speak to him one last time. "Ross... I hope you're feeling better soon. See you in the morning.”

He feigned a smile and nodded his head toward her. “Right as rain by morn’,” Ross replied before she left.

Once by himself, Ross sighed softly, slouching back against the arcade game. His right hand rubbed his forehead which his left held his ribs. He should have stayed in the medical wing. With a laugh to himself, he slowly moved to his feet. Lord would he be regretting this in the morning. Morphine and alcohol do not make a good cocktail.

He slowed trudged his way toward his bedroom but barely made it another ten feet. His head started to spin again. So, Ross let himself collapse into a near bean bag chair. The seat quickly enveloped him. Even if he wanted to get up, that wasn’t happening until morning. He was too drunk, too weak and too tired. And before he could attempt again, Ross’ head fell backwards as he passed out where he sat.




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tobias lehnsherr
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“Thank you... You're good at this,” Wynne said toward him as he sifted through the first aid kit. "I suppose you get the opportunity to practice in a place like this? I imagine injuries aren't unfamiliar to you."

Tobias glanced up slightly, looking over at her for a minute with a slight smile. “Actually… I learned this before coming here,” he admitted as he pulled some tape and gauze from the kit. “But I have given myself a couple stitches since I came to the academy,” he added. Tobias sat there quietly for a long moment as he placed the clean gauze pad against the fresh stitches. His other hand gently taped the bandage in place to keep it clean so that it can heal properly.

After he finished packing everything away and placed the closed kit on the table, he leaned back in the wheel chair. As Tobias shifted, he winced slightly and readjusted how he sat. His hand rested on his abdomen on top of his bandages. “When I was with my father before coming here…” his voice trailed for a minute, trying to figure out the right way to word it. But in the end, he decided not to veil the truth. “Those in the Brotherhood often would return with varying wounds.”

Tobias paused after that statement, looking over at Wynne to gauge her expression. It was risky mentioning the Brotherhood. So many people at the academy already assumed that he was part of the Brotherhood, a spy for his father. And even though that’s why he was sent there, that isn’t why Tobias is at the academy. Hopefully he wouldn’t come to regret speaking of the Brotherhood.

“I helped when my Father made me… Our abilities are more steady than hands.” As he mentioned his hands he looked down at his hands, moving his fingers around slightly. “Mostly I helped patch up my mother since I was young. She seemed to come home wounded more often than the others.” Tobias sighed softly, looking over at Wynne curious to hear her reaction.

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Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Jensen Jones
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H A R L E Y x W I L L I A M S
8 6 2 A 5 1



Harley instantly regretted his input as the large dark haired brute punched a hole in the wall and tossed the red head through it, out into the cold and wet courtyard of the facility. Harley looked up at the guy in shock, he thought these guys were the heroes, but there was some doubt in his mind now.
“What the hell, Ulrich?” One of the blondes yelled at him.
"Anybody else wanna find another way out?" Harley shook his head and jogged back to Anastasia's side, lifting her once more before following the rest out of the hole.

He drew upon whatever energy he had within himself and used it to form a protective bubble around him and Anastasia, letting them drift down safely and without doing any damage to the pair.
“Let's keep moving.” Another blonde encouraged them as the rest of them dropped to the ground, whilst the blonde who scolded the brute carried the red head off towards a large military truck.
"Where exactly are we heading to?" Harley asked, those that were still around him. Cautious not to trust them after what he just saw, if they were truly allies, and that's how they treated each other, how would they treat him and Anastasia, if they survived. "Do you even know where we are?"

Before he could get an answer, gunshots echoed from the truck and Harley's attention was drawn towards it as the redhead opened fire on the hole, covering the rest of them from the gathering soldiers. “Let’s go!!” Harley heard one of them shout and he looked at the others.
"Anywhere is better than here, I suppose." So Harley pushed himself as fast as he could to the truck, which would have been fine if he wasn't carrying Anastasia but he wasn't going to leave her and he still didn't trust their rescuers just yet.

He lifted Anastasia onto the truck and looked behind himself, a few of the rescuers were still behind and more soldiers had made it to the hole, more than the red head could pick off with the gun in her hand. Harley looked at his hand, he didn't know what his powers could do just yet, but he had to at least try and help them. So he summoned some more of the purple energy and threw it, guiding it with his hand towards the hole, it impacted with one of the soldiers and exploded outward, but instead of orange flame, it was bright purple plasma. The edges of the hole were melting and the surviving soldiers were screaming in agony as their armour was melted by the heat. "Oh my god." Harley muttered.



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G W E N x Q U E E N-L A N C E
F C D 1 1 6


"Oh, Ulrich. Okay. I see how it is." Gwen smiled awkwardly and prepared for some teasing to come her way. "You'd be cute together, for sure." Gwen squinted at Jensen, before shaking her head.
"God, I wouldn't be dating him if I thought we wouldn't be cute together." Gwen chuckled, she couldn't blame Jensen for not knowing they were together, they didn't exactly advertise it and Gwen wouldn't let him visit whilst she was away, she could only imagine her parents reaction if they found out she was dating the son of Zod.

After the bartender refilled Jensen's drink and provided Gwen with hers, Jensen turned to her and said,
"You're asking for big trouble there Gwen, but I'll take you on that bet." Jensen probably said it to dissuade her, but it only encouraged Gwen more to take the challenge, encouraging her to add her own twist of fun to the game by adding some never have I ever to it. "You're definitely in dangerous waters," Jensen then swigged her shot back without a flinch. "There's no way I'm tapping out, so you better be ready to haul my ass back to my apartment."
"So if I'm doing the hauling, does that mean you're gonna pass out first?" Gwen teased, with a dramatic sip of her daiquiri after the barman handed it to her and placed the shots down between the pair. Jensen took her jägerbomb and gestured her appreciation before necking it, and Gwen, not wanting to be showed up, threw the kamikaze back and swiftly followed it with her jägerbomb.
"I'll give you this, you know how to party." Gwen shrugged with a smile and gestured for the bartender to refill the jägerbombs. "I'll go first. Never have I ever... oh, frick. What do people even do these days? Smoke pot? Yeah, I've never done that." Gwen took a sip of her drink with a tilt of her head and squint of her eyes.
"Huh... Did not expect to be something you hadn't done." She then tapped her chin as she thought of her go. "Never have I ever done it in my parents house."

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Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Anastasia Petrovna
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Her thoughts became clouded with her mind still a surging perplexity. It almost felt as if her world was spinning, and all she wanted to do was sit down. A blonde girl made her way into the cell hurriedly and had lifted Anastasia and, within a blink, Anastasia was out of the cell and in the hall. Her stomach tightened and ached at the sudden speed taking a toll on her weak body, and she felt as if at any other time she would be fine with it... except her condition at the moment was not her best. She kept swallowing, and her throat kept clenching, but no matter what she did she couldn't stop the warm feeling rising through her chest... then to the back of her throat. She stood there wobbling, dreading that in a few seconds she might have to kneel over and vomit. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a moment and breathing to three. At four another gunshot rent the air, chipping into the wall right above her head.

Above them, red light flashed, illuminating the group. A high pitched siren cut the air, forcing Anastasia to grimace as it bounced in the hall, deafening her for several moments. One face eventually came into focus... and then several more along with glimpses of black and weapons. She soon felt Harley at her side once again and before she could say anything she felt herself being swung up in his arms as if she were nothing more than a ragdoll. Safe to say she felt a little useless and embarrassed, being stripped away of her full ability to fight back thanks to her injuries. Her blood tasted sweet, leaking around her teeth and over freshly cold lips. The bleeding continued, stark red in the dim light. She wished it to stop; She needed it to stop. The now browning blood had drizzled down her face from the wound to her head like rain down a window pane.

She soon felt the wind ran its icy fingers through her hair and she grinned through chapped lips. She could already feel her body healing and the bruises becoming more yellow than purple; her wounds slowly beginning to close. Soon after she felt herself lifted onto a vehicle, settling herself onto one of the seats. Her ears still rung but she could begin to make out the muffled words of the strangers speaking around her. Her green eyes peered out the window behind her, searching the faces of the soldiers running towards them. Thin fingers twisted the bracelet clasped around her wrist, preparing herself to take aim and shoot a shock of tranquilizing shocks through her next victim. She glared. Who were the friends and who were the enemies? She knew nobody and nobody knew her. She sat back, resting her arm in her lap. Her faint reflection from the window bounced back at her. Her porcelain skin was ashen, almost anemic; a cold sweat glistened on her forehead and her recessed cheeks; the moss of her eyes had turned into a leaf that was desperately trying to cling onto the last bit of its chlorophyll, its life. Her light hair against skin so white made a contrast that only served to make the girl look all the more ghostly, all the more haunting; her lips that were once pink and soft, were now chapped and bleeding. She groaned, bringing her eyes to look at the steering wheel of the truck as she wondered how they were even going to get out. 'Do Americans even know how to drive?'.

She could use a cigarette.

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Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Lilith Isley Character Portrait: Caitria Allen Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Anastasia Petrovna
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The descendants wisely chose to escort themselves out and Ulrich did a quick head count, even involving the extra three they picked up on the rescue op. Everyone was in one piece or enough of a piece not to worry about. But his whole body and being remained tense, and his fists balled up. Doing the right thing and having responsibility was this extra hard work that a year or so ago, he didn't ever have to bother with. He did what was his own benefit and he destroyed whoever or whatever got in that way. It was an easy, efficient and red solution. And he wouldn't have been hurt because of it.

"Where exactly are we heading to? Do you even know where we are." One of the pick ups asked, addressing another major obstacle to get through. Some gunshots sounded, leaving the guy to worry about it one step at a time. "Anywhere is better than here, I suppose." He answered himself, speaking the majorities mind.

And they were running again, towards the military truck Frankie and Wren occupied. As his legs carried him at the normal, human speed, he grit his teeth, only able to think that'd things would be easier if the sun were only out. But no. His dark her plastered to his face with the rain and his pants and shirt stuck to him and became heavier. He made a lunge for the truck as a few of the others covered him and themselves. Many sounds and colors darted and whizzed by but the oddest was a purple emanating from his peripheral. Once aboard the truck Ulrich turned to the source, seeing soldiers burn alive due to the flames. Or were they melting on the spot?

Ulrich paid a glance to the cause and lifted his brows in surprise. Brutal but efficient, he wanted to say, but felt that wasn't really a welcome opinion or much of an assurance. Anyway most the group was alert and had things covered and Ulrich felt strangely tired. If anything went wrong again, he was sure he'd hear the screams and shouts of others. So he got comfortable or as comfortable as he could in the truck and crossed his arms across his chest and let his eyes close. At least for a while.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Caitria Allen
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wren wilson
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frankie parker
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"Where exactly are we heading to?" One of the newcomers questioned them as everyone piled into the bed of the truck. "Do you even know where we are?"

"Does it matter?!"Wren didn’t lift her cheek from the butt of the rifle as she kept picking off Hydra soldiers as the as they filed out of the facility. There was only a few of them at first, but more and more started to flood out like rats away from a fire. She did what she could, but there was only so many bullets and she could only shoot so fast. Wren could understand the concern in him, he’s following a bunch of enhanced people he doesn’t know just go somewhere. But it was a better option than staying and hanging out with Hydra anyway you slice it.

Wren’s brows raised when a purple ball of something flew the guy and slammed into a crowd of soldiers, lighting them all up in a column of violet flames. She glanced over her shoulder toward the culprit giving him a slight smile and a nod of her head.

On cue from inside the cabin, Frankie honked the horn hurrying everyone into the truck. The blonde poked her head out of the driver side window to look back at Wren. She hollered something about needing to go that the red head couldn’t hear over the rain and loud rumble of the truck. Wren put one more shot between the eyes of an approaching guard before sliding the gun into the bed of the truck.

She was about to climb into the bed, but stopped when she saw the bazooka. Wren could have left it. They all could have left everything the way it was and still gotten away in one piece. But that wasn’t enough for her. With her back to the facility, a force slammed her from behind. She glanced down to see a bullet right through her left shoulder before lodging itself in the side of the vehicle. Her left arm was weakened, but she pushed past the pain and hefted the bazooka up onto her right shoulder. "Go fuck yourself," she said as she pulled the trigger.

The recoil made her falter backward as the projectile flew toward the base. Like the thunder, the impact at first was quiet then rippled through the ground like a wave. The explosion light up the sky and the sound was like a physical wave that pushed her back. For good measure, Wren flipped the bird toward what remained of the Hydra facility before climbing up into the bed of the truck. She gave two smacks to the side to signal she was in and Frankie didn’t hesitate to floor it out of there.

***

Frankie drove the truck through the night. Surprisingly, the base wasn’t on another continent halfway around the world. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Attacking the Academy is a risky move, and the longer amount of time they spent in the air with all of them that they kidnapped, the easier it would have been for the other Descendants, heroes or whatever else to hunt them down. It took Frankie the better part of an hour or two of driving to see roads signs that told her she was in Canada and figure out the right way to travel.

It was a long drive and for the tail end of it, she could feel her eyelids getting heavier. Frankie thought about pulling over and asking one of the others to drive, but they all looked worse for the wear. So, she pushed through it, driving the army trunk down freeways until they arrived back in Bridgeport. At first she saw the Descendent tower peeking out over the horizon just past dawn. The sun glistened off the windows making the building shimmer like the Emerald City.

Frankie felt a knot twist in her gut as tears formed in her eyes. There is nothing that can quite describe the fear one feels when they are so close to something they fought for. She wanted to feel relief but until she was inside and could see her friends’ faces, the pit would only grow. So often people are torn from what they want just shy and she’d be damned if that would stop her now.

She pulled the truck down the long narrow driveway that lead up to the tower, her hands white knuckling the steering wheel as they grew closer. Frankie hadn’t thought about it until that moment… But the fact that they were pulling up to a building filled with some of the world’s most powerful people in a foreign truck, shortly after an attack wasn’t the smartest. But she didn’t care.

The truck came to an abrupt stop before the tower, Frankie all but slamming on the breaks to stop the truck. She didn’t even waste the time to turn off the engine. The blonde stumbled out of the driver’s seat, nearly falling to her knees on the pavement. She couldn’t fight the tears that fell from her eyes nor the sobs that climbed up her throat.

Frankie made her way to the entrance and pushed open the large entry doors into the tower, desperate for a familiar face.

***

Wren was awoken when the truck came to quick stop causing her to slide along the bed of the truck until she collided with the back of the cabin. She groaned as she sat up, her hand cupping the gunshot wound in her shoulder that had only healed a fraction as much as it would have on a normal day. Wren raised her fist and banged it on the back of the truck’s cabin. "What in the hell is going on?"

When she didn’t get a response, Wren open her eyes only to have the breath taken from her as she saw a familiar skyline. She all but shoved past the others to climb out of the back of the truck. Unfortunately for her, when her feet hit the ground, her body was not prepared to catch her.

She remained there, frozen on the concrete under the early morning sunlight. Red locks fell around her head like a veil while she was on her hands and knees. Wren was never the type to cry, anger was always her go to emotion in most situations, but it rose up through her like a wave. Then there at that moment on the ground, so close to the academy she wept. Her body heaved with every sob as her head fell into the palms of her hands upon the ground.




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tobias lehnsherr
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"Mother? Do you mean... Mystique?" Wynne asked.

Tobias’ brows raised as he looked at her in curiosity before it had sunken in. Of course, Wynne, might not have known about his connection to Raven like some of the other people at the academy. It wasn’t something that he openly broadcasted or anything, but like any building with a lot of busy bodies, information spreads fast.

He adjust in his wheelchair, holding his bandaged wound with his right hand as he did. Tobias sighed at his own incapacitation before looking over at Wynne and nodding his head. "Yes. She’s not actually my mother. I never knew my mother. But where my father didn’t raise me… Raven did."

Tobias never liked the negative outlook people had on his mother. He knew her true nature that no one else got to see and he was always willing to speak about her in a new light. Sadly, most people didn’t believe him that his mother was a good person beneath everything else. But when Magneto wants you to do something you do it… Or you die.

***

He hadn’t been in bed long. Surprisingly, Wynne and Tobias spent a better part of the evening on the roof talking… About anything, everything. It was so rare that anyone went out of their way to speak to him as an equal, beside Petra. But she was family.

Tobias had just reached a deeper slumber when a loud alarm and bright lights woke him. He sat up so quickly in his bed that he nearly popped a stitch. His hand quickly moving to his side to cup his wound as he groaned. J.A.R.V.I.S.’s voice echoed throughout the tower, "This is not a drill. Approaching foreign vehicle. All hands to the main floor."

As quickly as he could manage, Tobias climbed out of bed and into his wheelchair. Before he exited his room, he rolled over to the window looking out to see a large military truck approaching the tower. None of them had their strength back to handle another Hydra attack, especially himself. He cursed under his breath and used his abilities to move his chair far faster than his hands could.

He contemplated diverting to Petra’s room. But instead, Tobias tried to be one of the first to the lobby, hoping that maybe it took her too long to get down here or she slept through the alarms. Then, she’d be out of harm’s way. Instead of pressing the button for the elevator, he willed it to his floor only and forced it down to ground level.

Tobias rolled into the main lobby to be met by Mycroft, Coulson and Alfred. It was the first time he ever saw the trio prepared for a real attack… Not scolding the about their simulations. They all stood there like sentries in Kevlar vests. For the first time in his life, they all seemed almost relieved that he was there with them in the academy. If the situation wasn’t so dire he might have even commented on it. Instead his gaze focused on the approaching truck, trying to muster whatever energy he had.

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ross mcculloch
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It was a rude awakening for a drunk and injured man. If he wasn’t sunken into a beanbag chair like quicksand, Ross might have fallen on the floor from the shock of it all. He tried to find something to throw at… Well, he didn’t know, but something but came up short handed.

It took Ross a few moments to fully comprehend what J.A.R.V.I.S. was saying over the alarms but once it registered, he nearly jumped up from his place in the beanbag chair. He grabbed his backpack which held his mirror gun and a large arrangements of mirrors, then headed out the door. Barefoot, still in his hospital pants and shirtless, he ran as fast as he could down the hallway.

In a quick decision, Ross turned to the stairs rather than waiting on the elevator. This time he refused to be taken by surprise. He hated how he wasn’t powerful like most of the other students here, but he earned his place and he would protect his friends. So many of them were already taken, that he wouldn’t let whomever was rolling right up to their door take anyone else.

He ran into the lobby, slowing to a halt along with the others. Ross looked like an idiot holding a mirror gun in his hands while he was barely dressed. The skills he inherited from his father were a joke, but nonetheless, he intended to use every trick he had up his sleeve if he had to. Then the driver’s side door opened…

Ross got ready to shoot, but when the blonde came into view, his gun fell from his hands as he stood there in shock. It clattered to the ground, the sound echoing off the walls of the large foyer. "Oh m’god… Ets Frankie!"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch Character Portrait: Jensen Jones
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#, as written by barnes
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It had been easy to busy herself with various little tasks concerning the tidying of her penthouse, but Petra's thoughts were occupied elsewhere through the rest of the evening. She drifted through her apartment quietly, not quite paying attention to anything, just thinking about the attack they'd recently survived.

Everything is different now. Everyone knew it, but it was a thought she couldn't shake. Up until then, Hydra had always been something lurking just out of sight, like a scary story you told a child to make them behave. Sure, it wasn't a real threat, but as long as the child believed that a monster would rise up out of the sea and take them away if they strayed out too far they would never face the danger of drowning for fear of the monster. And likewise the threat of Hydra kept the Descendants on their toes, motivated them to train and fight for good. But Hydra had attacked once, and it would attack again. And unless there was some way to keep it at bay it would keep coming until it had achieved its goal. That was how organisations like that worked.

So Petra worried, for more than just the taken students. She worried for the students left behind, for the mentors who would no doubt have to put together some plan of attack to guide their students through... she highly doubted any of the Descendants were at their peak, strategy- and battle-wise. Not that she would ever say it to anyone's face, lest it set off new accusations of her being a bitch for no good reason.

Still, it was enough to tire her out, and by the time the alarm sounded she had attempted to settle down a little, tucking herself into bed and getting comfortable. As it had just two mornings ago, the alarm startled her, and she sat bolt upright, trying to understand the alert. "This is not a drill. Approaching foreign vehicle. All hands to the main floor."

Petra paused to grab her robe, pulling it on over her nightgown, but did not bother to put shoes on. She ignored the lift entirely; she took the stairs three at a time until she skidded barefoot into the lobby, almost colliding with Tobias's wheelchair. It seemed the other students had been similarly caught off guard - Wynne was already there, pale and wide-eyed, her jacket buttoned up wrongly and her wings trailing on the floor; Jensen Jones was stumbling out of the lift, still wearing the infirmary pajamas, her hair curling every which way. In her hands she clutched a heavy-looking bat with spikes driven through the end, the wood at the end stained and worn (whether from actual blood or for effect Petra was unsure).

"More Hydra, perfect," she snarled, clearly not in a playing mood. Last time they'd caught her off guard and in a dress. This time she was ready to beat some skulls in with her weapon, and she'd take every one of them down with her if she had to. Already her hangover was ebbing away with the adrenaline, replaced only by a single burning desire to murder whoever she could get her hands on.

Wynne was not so sure. Talking to Tobias earlier had made her realise many things, chief of which was how tiny her position in the universe was. She was well aware of her status as a liability to the academy, and was hardly equipped to defend it against its enemies. But she thought she should be standing here with the rest of them as well, at least making an effort. If Hydra managed to take them down tonight... at least she had gone down fighting.

But there was no need for it. A voice rang through the foyer, cutting clear through the room. "Oh m’god… Ets Frankie!"

"If this is a joke, McCulloch, you're going first," Jensen started angrily, taking a step forward, but she found herself being pushed aside by a pair of heavy hands on her shoulders. Riley moved past her, ignoring even the mentors, until he'd reached Frankie's side, putting his arms around her. His face was frozen in shock, mouth opening and closing as he tried to find something to say. But no words came to him, and eventually he settled for pulling her into a tight hug, cradling his best friend against his chest.

"How... we thought you... you're safe," he managed as he finally pulled away, holding her at arm's length. "Frankie, oh god, you're back." He finally took in her sorry state, eyes widening as he tried to understand. "You can - you can tell us what happened later. We gotta get you to the infirmary first. Is everyone back?" They had to have rescued everyone. Frankie would never stand for leaving a fellow student behind. Looping his arm around her waist, he began to help her into the building, intent on getting medical help as soon as he could.

Petra was not so sentimental. Once she'd ascertained for herself it really was Frankie at the door, she moved quickly, squeezing past the reunited students into the cold outside, past the huge vehicle parked right in front of the school. If they had been followed back... But there was no one. No armies thundering down the driveway to meet them, no helicopters hovering ahead. Aside from the clamour coming from the school behind her, the night was cold and quiet - almost too peaceful, in contrast to what they'd experienced earlier. The sky stretched dark and empty above their heads, and a lump began to form in Petra's throat, though no tears came. She stood alone in the driveway, looking around, and only when she had convinced herself that they were safe did she begin to head back inside, holding her robe closed against the wind.

A couple of unfamiliar faces stood amongst the students moving into the school. Her guard up again, Petra moved to stop them - three students, two male and one female. Looking at their injuries, she felt a small twinge of guilt before reminding herself of the danger the academy had just faced. She couldn't risk letting threats in. "You'll forgive me for being suspicious, I hope. Who are you, and can anyone vouch for you?"

Jensen threw her bat aside, surging forward. She let Riley and Frankie have their reunion. Behind Frankie, the others were beginning to clamber out of a truck, but Jensen didn't have eyes for any of them, her eyes searching the faces - some familiar, some unfamiliar - until she spotted the redheaded figure on the ground. She knelt down beside Wren, ducking her head to meet Wren's gaze. "Didn't bring me a bouquet of Hydra heads?" she asked, almost conversationally. "How're you doing, baby?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Gwen Queen-Lance Character Portrait: Anastasia Petrovna
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xxxxxxxU L R I C HxxZ O D
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xxxxxxxxxxparentage: Dru-Zod
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Of all the descendants it was Wren that was noticeably most grateful to be out of the line of fire. For someone who never took war or battles seriously and seemed to like bloodshed, she was the one scrambling over others and pushing them aside just to meet the safe territory first. She fell to all fours and began to sob. Ulrich froze and tilted his head, not sure he wanted to pass such an emotional wreck of a woman. It'd be like walking pass a grumpy Chihuahua, his ankles would be bitten and of course she chose to collapse right in the middle of everybody's path. And she still had his jacket. Ulrich took a deep breath and tried to avoid stepping over Wren, just in time to see Frankie had bolted to the doors.

Of course he was relieved as the others to be at the academy again. It had a sense of safety, despite it being so easily infiltrated before, but it felt like he could relax, not worry about kryptonite technology being used against him or being weak again and it must have mirrored others feelings. A slight smile passed his lips. At the academy he could gather his strength again and see his blonde beauty. No, it wasn't such a bad place but it never reached home.

He edged around the reunions slowly and scanned for his own woman to embrace but stopped when he overheard one descendant still on guard. "You'll forgive me for being suspicious, I hope. Who are you, and can anyone vouch for you?" Ulrich glanced back over his shoulder to see Petra had intercepted the three fellow prisoners' path. At least somebody was alert.

For a moment he waited for somebody with a better reputation to speak up, but it didn't come - at least not in a timely manner. Ulrich pursed his lips and huffed out having to step out of his comfort zone for others again. "I can," he joined Petra's side. "They had these beaten and bruised faces before we got to them, and they helped us escape hydra." His word probably wasn't worth a lot to her, but he had tried and that's all he could do. He bowed his head slightly to the new comers wishing them well and thanking them for the aid in one gesture, then left them to Petra's judgement. She didn't have to trust him to make the right call.

Ulrich continued to search for Gwen, but if he didn't find her soon, he'd happily take a hot shower instead.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Ulrich Zod Character Portrait: Gwen Queen-Lance
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Harley dropped down next to Anastasia, she hadn't stirred much during the escape but she did drowsily lift her head to look at her surrounds, in the safety of the van, which was travelling to God only knows were and Harley suddenly wondered, if the people who had saved him were really much better than their own kidnappers... After all, both parties didn't seem to mind killing, not that he could judge after melting half a dozen men, but that was an accident, his rescuers killed on purpose, some of them even seemed to enjoy it. Harley's mind raced as such for the rest of the journey, he reached out for the nearest comfort and that was Anastasia, he wrapped his arm around her and let her head rest on his shoulder. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep, exhausted from everything, it felt like the first proper sleep he'd had since being taken.

The van stopped rather sharply and the red-headed woman slammed the wall of the van, the noise waking Harley from his sleep.
"What in the hell is going on?" Harley lifted his head to look at her, but she was shoving past the others to get out of the van as if she saw something. Harley gave Anastasia a slight shake, cautiously checking her pulse just to make sure she wasn't dead.
"I think we're here... Wherever here is." He helped Anastasia up and got her out of the van, he looked at the behemoth of a tower that stood before them. His father had mentioned the Descendant's initiative to him before, in passing, but he didn't believe it was real. He looked at the others who seemed to just wander into the building before following after them, albeit slightly slower due to Anastasia's weakened state.

Before he could enter the building, another red-headed woman, different from the one who saved them stepped in his way.
"You'll forgive me for being suspicious, I hope. Who are you, and can anyone vouch for you?" Harley's eyebrows knotted in anger, all three of the newcomers had just been tortured, beaten and experimented on and brought here against their own will. They were civilians caught up in their world, not threats to it, but thankfully before Harley could say as much, the dark-haired man he'd seemingly pissed off before stepped in.
"I can. They had these beaten and bruised faces before we got to them, and they helped us escape hydra." Harley thanked him with a nod before looking at the red-head.
"We were kidnapped by whoever those people were and experimented on, even tortured." Harley restrained himself from getting hysterical. "Now I have powers that melt people! I'm a nurse! Not some freak that melts people's faces off!" He wasn't very successful at restraining himself.


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Gwen doesn't remember how, but at some point, she made it back to her apartment and changed into some lingerie that was in no way comfortable. Her head was fuzzy but she wasn't hungover, she could at least say that Jensen won their drinking game for sure. Before Gwen could gather herself, J.A.R.V.I.S rang throughout her apartment.
"This is not a drill. Approaching foreign vehicle. All hands to the main floor." Fuzzy headed or not, Gwen leapt toward her wardrobe, grabbing her signature leather jacket, which she pulled on with ease, she thanked all the gods that she'd been wearing a full bodice and not just some revealing bra and thong. She grabbed her sonic amplifier and put it around her neck, as she put her boots on she could see the van from her window driving down the road. Gwen ran for the lift, the lift seemed to move even faster during emergency situations and Gwen felt as if she was been hurled down to the main floor, but that could have been the alcohol that her metabolism had yet to flush from her system.

"Oh m’god… Ets Frankie!" Gwen joined the others guarding the lobby, just as Ross announced who was driving the van. She looked up at the blonde figure stumbling through the lobby doors before anyone else could react Riley shoved past the crowd and dashed over to her, the mentors shouting instruction for him to come back until it's safe. Petra soon joined him past the defence line, but she went straight out the door and rounded the corner. Gwen followed after her.

The cool morning breeze hit her as she exited the building, Petra was standing in front of 3 unfamiliar faces, given what had happened within the past 24 hours, she understood but the 3 stood in front of her looked to be in worse states than anybody else. Just as Gwen was going to come to their defence, a familiar face pulled up next to Petra and did it for her.
"Ulrich!" Gwen ran at him and when she collided with him, her arms reached around him pulled him in tight. "Are you okay? They didn't use kryptonite on you, did they? Are you hurt anywhere?" The guilt Gwen felt for not putting 2 and 2 together and recognising that Ulrich had been taken with the others, only made her hold him tighter.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Wren Wilson Character Portrait: Frankie Parker Character Portrait: Petra Maximoff Character Portrait: Riley Barton Character Portrait: Ross McCulloch
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#, as written by mjolnir
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wren wilson
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frankie parker
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ross mcculloch
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tobias lehnsherr
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“If this is a joke, McCulloch, you're going first,” Jensen snarled angrily toward Ross.

“Fuck you. It’s not—“ For the first time, probably ever, Ross shut up when Riley pushed past him and Jensen.

Frankie was barely through the doors when she felt a force like a train collide with her and envelope her. She blinked her eyes as if in a daze while her mind caught up. Then it clicked. The brunette hair and familiar arms. She let out a ragged gasp as her arms wrapped around Riley, bringing him even closer if it were possible. “How... we thought you... you're safe.” Frankie had hardly realized she was crying until he pulled away from her to hold her at an arm’s length. “Frankie, oh god, you're back.” She gave her bravest smile, but it lacked and barely passed for more than a frown. “You can - you can tell us what happened later. We gotta get you to the infirmary first. Is everyone back?”

The blonde’s gaze fell slightly as she shook her head. “Most… Not all.” She didn’t argue or turn down Riley’s help as he guided her inside. Frankie smiled somberly as she took in everyones’ faces. Most of them looked worse for the ware as well. How many of them had to spend their night in the infirmary under medical attention. No doubt Ross. His face was black and blue, but the Scot still managed to smile and hug her once she was inside.

Wren glanced up briefly when she saw feet move around her. She caught a brief glimpse of Ulrich as he seemed to eye his jacket she still wore while also tiptoeing around her like she was a lion waiting to pounce. She sighed out of annoyance, sniffling back her tears as she yanked the jacket from her arms and threw it at his feet. Wren didn’t say anything, honestly she could go a decade without seeing Ulrich again and it’d be too much.

Tobias watched Petra quickly make her way outside. He didn’t know what she was doing, but similarly the tender reunions were lost on him. Not one of them was on more than a first name basis with him. Instead his brows furrowed as his gaze focused on the truck. It seemed easy… too easy. Something in his gut twisted telling him that he needed to search the vehicle, if anything, for his own piece of mind.

He didn’t mean to break up the reunions, but this was more important, there would be more time to catch up. Tobias rolled his wheel chair forward, lightly placing his hand on Ross’ shoulder to get his attention. “Apologies, but I need your help.” He nodded his head towards the Scot’s bag as a silent signal that he should bring it along.

“Alright,” Ross replied, giving Frankie a final pat on the shoulder. He then moved behind Tobias’ wheelchair and began pushing it. He knew the man didn’t need help in that way. After all, his abilities let him move it without risk of popping a stitch. But regardless, he moved the chair forward mumbling a quiet ’excuse us’ whenever they moved past someone.

Tobias waved his index and middle finger at the doors, opening them for Ross as he wheeled him outside. He held up his hand to stop Ross when he noticed the unfamiliar faces, but the chair was already slowing at that point, coming to a rest beside Petra.

“You'll forgive me for being suspicious, I hope. Who are you, and can anyone vouch for you?”

Ross and Tobias stood there silently, looking between Petra and the new comers. It was a good question, especially with the uneasy feeling Tobias had rising in his gut.

“I can,” Ulrich said as he stepped forward. “They had these beaten and bruised faces before we got to them, and they helped us escape hydra.”

“We were kidnapped by whoever those people were and experimented on, even tortured.” The new arrival stepped forward, speaking for himself. He seemed unhinged, for good reason. Anyone who had gone through torture and imprisonment would be less than stable. “Now I have powers that melt people! I'm a nurse! Not some freak that melts people's faces off!”

“It’s alright, mate,” Ross said, exchanging sideways glances with Petra. He then gave the stranger a pat on the shoulder and nodded his head toward the doors. “If he wasn’t ok, I doubt they would have kept him alive for the ride.”

Wren’s face was buried in her hands as she tried to calm herself, to breathe. Her body still hurt, healing slower and more painfully than she had ever experienced. It almost felt like it was ripping itself back open before it fused together. She only looked up when a figured knelt down beside her.

Jensen’s head dipped down to look at Wren from beneath the veil of crimson hair that blocked her face. “Didn't bring me a bouquet of Hydra heads?” Wren’s jaw dropped slightly as her brows furrowed. A weak, annoyed laugh escaped her lips. “How're you doing, baby?”

“How the fuck do you think I’m doing?” Wren practically growled. “I was shish kabob-ed by a harpoon, my neck broken, beaten, shot… tortured,” her voice cracked on the last word. She pushes off the ground and weakly moved to her feet. Wren wobbled as she pushed her way past everyone to get into the tower. For a moment, she froze like a deer in headlights at the sight of everyone in the lobby. They all hugged each other in reunions, but no one came to hug her. No one cared that she looked like death twice over. Wren wiped away a tear then continued to push past the others, making her way toward the elevator.

Tobias motioned toward Ross toward the side of the large truck. “I’m assuming you have a mirror on you?”

Ross scoffed as he pulled his pack from his back and unzipped it. After a moment he pulled out a compact mirror and held it out to Tobias. “I could’ve told ya that ya look like shite. Didn’t need a mirror for dat.”

“Last I checked, you look worse than me,” Tobias jested. He then levitated the mirror from his hand, slowly guiding it underneath the truck. He moved it slowly making sure the reflective surface was angled partly toward him. For awhile the search showed no results… Until he caught a glimpse of a flashing red light in the undercarriage. Tobias quickly brought back the mirror and shoved it into Ross’ hand, before he pushed off the armrests of the wheelchair and began to stand.

“Woah woah tiger, da hell do ya think you’re doin’?” Ross said as he moved before Tobias holding out his hands to stop him.

“There’s something under there… I need to look.”

“I’ll look.” Ross pushed the mirror against Tobias’ chest until he took it in his hand and sat back down. “What am I looking for?”

“A red light.”

”Like a bomb?”

“Could you say that any louder?! Just look… If it is, I’ll take care of it.”

“Fackin’ hell,” Ross grumbled under his breath as he lowered himself until he was sitting on the ground. He took a deep breath then carefully scooted underneath on his back. It took him a moment before he found the light. “Found it! There’s no timer… Just numbers… Looks like coordinates.”

“J.A.R.V.I.S. can you scan those coordinates?”

“Of course, Mr. Lehnsherr… The coordinates are for our current location. It looks as though the truck has a tracking device.”

“God dammit,” Tobias groaned under his breath as he threw the mirror at the side of the truck, the small fragile compact shattering on impact.

“Aye, mate! That was a good mirror!”

“J.A.R.V.I.S. can you jam the signal and scatter it so that it shows different locations around the globe every few seconds?”

“It is done.”



“Don’t lift it until I return,” Tobias ordered the computer as he stood up from his wheelchair unsteadily. He slipped his arm from Ross’ grasp when the Scot tried to stop him and continued back into the tower. He was careful not to move his right arm too much and pop a stitch, using his left arm to wedge space between the others and make his way to the elevator. He came to a stop beside Wren who looked desperate to get away from the crowd and the lift was crawling its way down the tower to the lobby. Impatient Tobias raised his hand and willed the elevator down to their floor, bypassing any other stops.

cron