Nervous? Why? I always just get excited at the idea of a new mission.
“I don’t like not having information.”

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@cameronmarx-blog
Nervous? Why? I always just get excited at the idea of a new mission.
“I don’t like not having information.”

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Training Days // Open to All
“I’ll have you know, if we were birds, all of the the other birds would be all over me. Humans just haven’t caught up to odor mating yet.” Luther stays matter-of-factly, but there’s a smile clear on his face. It’s one of those useless facts that sticks in your head after years. Cam’s joke is light-hearted, and Luther knows better than to take offense to it. The entire building is filled with very different senses of humor and Luther doesn’t mind any of them.
The roar of laughter behind him makes sense now. When there is socializing, Cam does appear to be in the middle of it. It seems like every operative has a million stories from their old lives. Stories that are carefully constructed to leave out important names and places. Stories that sometimes feel more like fables and less like anecdotes because they’re all different people now. It’s why Luther shies away from talking details about his past life. People know he worked for the police, and eventually the FBI, but the little details have been redacted from every day conversation. It’s just easier that way, he’s found.
“Training went fine, boss man. It’ll take more than fake walls and holograms to knock me off my feet. Any details leak about the new mission yet?” Luther knows the answer. If Cam knew something, he’d tell them. But he still can’t help the antsy feeling of something wrong being done out there that they can fix. It’s the reason he joined ADDT, the reason he left his loved ones behind, and being stuck at HQ while everyone comes back for briefingÂ
Cam crinkled his nose again before laughing. “We aren’t birds, Allen, so make sure you hit the shower, all right?” He clapped Luther on the shoulder, a grin on his face as he spoke. Cameron liked Luther—the man wasn’t easily ruffled, and that was a good quality in a pinch, especially in the line of work they were in with ADDT. He also enjoyed just talking with the other—his easygoing sense of humor meshed well with Cam’s energetic way of talking to people, and it just made Cam’s mood a little bit better each time.
He’s been known around the headquarters as a bit of a wild one sometimes—Cam can get a little crazy and over enthusiastic at times, and while that can be fun, it can also be overwhelming for others. Luther, however, never seemed to have a problem with it, and for that, Cam definitely found Luther to be a close ally during everything that they had gone through. Since they had known each other and worked together for over a year now as well, Cameron definitely trusted Luther to get the job done, and to do it right.
Nodding, he followed Luther in line. “Good, good,” he said. “I should probably get down there some time soon,” he added. It had been a couple of days since he had trained, having strained his shoulder during his last training session. It was feeling better now, fully healed with a large range of motion, so it was time to put his nose back to the grindstone. Cameron shook his head. “Nothing yet.” He paused. “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t worry me.”
You’re not alone there. Any idea what it might be about?
He shook his head. “It’s making me kinda nervous, if I’m going to be straight with you.”
smoke break
Talia finally glanced up, taking in the figure before her. Code Midnight, the alpha squad leader.  Marines, honorably discharged. Even if it hadn’t just been incredibly likely for his position, she would’ve known that much. It rolled off him, that kind of attitude and self assurance. She caught the long pause at her statement, and figured he’d been around the bureaucrats for too long. They were all getting so damn politically correct. It was exhausting, and she’d longed since stopped trying to impress everyone. She didn’t really care what people thought of her outside of her job. And she did that damn well.
“Great. I like people who don’t try to take my cigarettes.” Her voice said otherwise. She didn’t really like… well, people in general. She just dealt with them. But she didn’t really mind if he joined her, if he wasn’t going to try to steal her shit. So Natalia moved slightly down the ledge she was sitting on, making more room. She took another drag of the new cigarette, two long exhales before she spoke again. If he wasn’t going to leave then she would be civil.
“Natalia Martinez,” she offered, with an outstretched hand. “You’re alpha squad, yeah?”
He tilted his head, looking at her for a moment. She didn’t seem particularly interested in his company, but he didn’t care either way if she was interested. Cam took a deep breath before jumping up slightly to get onto the ledge next to her, sitting with a military sort of posture—back ramrod straight, sitting tall and with a confidence that it took him years to muster.
Cam nodded, noting the number of cigarette butts lying around. He wasn’t about to comment on them, that was for sure—he wasn’t that tactless. He definitely noticed that they were there, however, and he was keeping that knowledge locked away for another day. God, he hated cigarettes. He hated how they smelled, how they tasted in the back of his throat, how they got people addicted and didn’t let go—he hated every single aspect. He had tried a cigarette, once, but it just made his throat hurt and his hands shake.
Taking the offered hand, he nodded. “Cameron Marx. Yeah, I’m alpha. And you’re bravo, right?” He pretty much already had his answer, but she could always be one of the million analysts who seemed to be wandering around the headquarters—he didn’t know for sure.
Training Days // Open to All
The sweat soaks through Luther’s clothing and drips down his back as the simulation continues. It beads at his temples, and Luther only has moments to wipe it clear of his eyes. He can feel the heaviness in his legs and arms as he turns around a “corner” that doesn’t exist anywhere but outside of the simulation. The walls are old and dusty, and if Luther didn’t know better, he’d swear the air was hot and heavier than their Virginia climate. Desert weather. Luther turns another corner and he knows he’s close to the end of the exercise. There are only three enemies left, by his count, and two rooms to check.
 He ducks under a punch, lashing out with one of his long legs as he sweeps the feet out from under his “opponent”. The enemy disappears, and Luther turns around to see two more rushing him and settles into a traditional Akido stance. Ten seconds later, both of the hostiles are gone and a ringing signifies the end of his round. He turns to the console, checking his time. A smile turns up the corner of Luther’s lips when it pops up that he’s beaten his last score by three seconds. It’s small progress, but it’s something to be proud of. It’s only then that Luther pauses, exhausted, and turns to leave the practice room.
The air outside of the training room is cool and Luther’s shirt sticks to his back. He’s stuck between feeling hungry and wanting a shower. Food wins out as Luther checks his watch. 1315, just in time for lunch. He turns left at a break in the hallway, letting his footsteps take him to the giant mess hall. Luther isn’t sure what they’re cooking today, but it smells damn good as he gets in line.
Cam had been sitting at a table in the mess hall, close to line of operatives getting food. He wasn’t eating himself, not feeling particularly hungry, but he liked being in the group of people sometimes. Other times, he wasn’t so keen, but today felt like one of those days where he could feel comfortable in a crowd. That was why he found himself animatedly telling a story to the others at the table, something half-truth and half-fiction.
This was something he did pretty often. He liked to make people laugh, and if embellishing the truth a little bit would make them do that, was was so wrong with it? Who was going to fact-check him anyway? He spoke with large, sweeping hand gestures, a grin showing his white teeth through his beard as he spoke more and more quickly, reaching the end of his story to hear the sounds of roaring laughter around him. He tilted his head back and laughed as well, clapping a hand on the back of the operative next to him before standing up.Â
He apologized to the crowd before seeing Luther walk into the mess, jumping in line next to him. “Wow, Luther, you’re a little rank,” he said, crinkling his nose before chuckling. “How was training?” Cam asked, not needing to check if that was what Luther had actually been doing. He had noticed that most of the operatives had been training more since the announcement came out that they were to be engaging in a new mission pretty soon. Cameron didn’t sweat it too much at the moment—if he stayed cool, then the people he was supposed to be leading would stay cool, too.

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smoke break
Outside of the headquarters, Talia lit another cigarette and took a slow drag. She let the smoke fill her lungs, swirl around inside her for a moment before exhaling. Then she stamped the cigarette out on the concrete, next to a pile of still smoldering others. She was trying to quit. Actually, she’d been quitting for six years.Â
A shadow appeared on the sidewalk, and Natalia stifled the sigh building in her throat. She just wanted a few minutes alone. It seemed like everywhere you went inside HQ, there were thirty different people bustling around with clipboards and tablets and handguns and surveillance equipment. The cafeteria was even more crowded. so much so that she could barely catch her breath.Â
And everyone always wanted to talk. She never understood the concept of small talk. Polite conversation, or something. She good do it perfectly well; in fact, she was excellent at it. She could get people to spill the innermost secrets within five minutes of meeting them, but that didn’t mean she liked it. If one more person asked her how her day was going and if she was enjoying the weather, she was going to fucking scream.
The shadow grew closer, and this time a small snarl slipped out of Natalia’s throat. She covered it by clearing her throat as she lit up another cigarette. “You can’t bum one, if that’s what you were going to ask.” She cut them off preemptively, waiting to see who would appear beside her.
Cam had honestly just been out for a walk.
The headquarters got claustrophobic easily, and Cam wasn’t interested in being poked and prodded and asked to do a million different things all at once at the moment, so he had been looking for some sort of solitude—but, of course, that was impossible to come by in a place like this. With the leadership position he held, everyone wanted a piece of him.
Even now, when he thought he would be alone outside on the sidewalk, he wasn’t. He tilted his head as he looked at the figure standing at the corner, a cigarette unmistakably smoldering between her fingers. Cam knew her—in some capacity, he knew her. She was part of ADDT, that was for sure, but she wasn’t in his squad. That much was for sure.
No, she must have been one of the members of Bravo, and Cam had seen her around. She had certainly seemed uninviting in the way she held herself, but it wasn’t something that was going to stop Cam from talking to her. Even if she wasn’t in his squad, he wanted to know the other operatives who he’d be working closely with—he’d like to know their names if he was going to trust them with his life.
When she spoke, Cameron was taken aback for a second. He paused before replying. “I don’t smoke.” He paused again, then spoke again. “I’m not looking to take your cigarettes.” He coughed lightly from taking too deep a breath, the smoke entering his lungs and making his throat burn slightly.
Another mission in a few days. I wonder how interesting this one will be.
“I’d like to know sooner rather than later, but that’s just my opinion.”
punching bag {open}
Cameron carefully wrapped his hands, padding his knuckles so that he wouldn’t break them—again—as he prepared to train for a few hours. It was always late in the evening that he felt the need to train. It was something about absolutely exhausting himself, physically, that gave him hope for the night ahead—maybe, just maybe, he’d get to sleep without too much trouble, though that hadn’t happened yet.
Instead, he often spent his nights up late, utterly wiped out but unable to get his eyes to close on their own. He thought about everything he had left behind, how he could have been Sergeant Major of the Marine Corps, how he might have found someone who wouldn’t end up leaving, how he could have searched for the family he knew existed outside of the San Fernando Valley, but California couldn’t afford to find. According to ADDT, he had been killed in a car accident—all of those what ifs had gone out the window.
There had been someone, once. He met Marilyn when they were only 22—young and foolish, they were head over heels in love. Every time Cam came home, it was her who met him at the airport. Every time he got a letter, he knew that she was the only one who could have sent it. The constant tours, however, the months on end spent overseas, it was too much. They were  only 22, after all. Cam couldn’t have expected her to stay.
Cam shook his head. He couldn’t think about that now. He had made his decision, and, at the time, it had been an easy one. He didn’t have many people who would miss him. The squad he had been with for almost all of his time in Afghanistan had been whittled down to 2 people—1 if you count Cam as one of those they had lost. This one person was bearing the weight of the of everything they had done on their shoulders now—but he was still overseas. He was still doing what he was best at.
Maybe he would take over Cam’s place.
God, Cam could still remember every single one of them. Avery, the surgeon who had left a cushy job in Boston to serve with the Marines, just like his grandfather did, or Bennett, one of three total girls in their squad who could kick more ass than the rest of them combined, or even the new guy, Winters, who had taken to calling Cam “dad,” since he didn’t have one of his own. He was only twenty.
Cam still wears his dog tags around his neck.
He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep, calming breath as he pushed the sound of Winters’ voice from his head. When he heard someone else stepping in, he looked up.
“What are you doing here so late?”
Cheer up!! –and      dry your damp eyes tell me when it rains –and      i’ll blend up that ((rainbow)) above you                    —and shoot it through your veins—
boston-boy-evans:
The neck freckles, fuck!

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// BASICS
The Mastermind, alias Cameron Marx, resembles Chris Evans. He’s thirty-five [35] years old and was born on March 8th, 1979. Cameron identifies as pansexual panromantic and is a cisgender male. The Mastermind has been a member of Alpha Squad Midnight since July 2014, and he is currently taken.
// PROMINENT SKILLS
> Impulse Control > Strategy Planning and Coordinating > Well-Traveled > Flexible and Thinks on Their Feet > Problem Solving > Critical Thinking
// FAULTS
> Zealous > Masochist > Remorseless
// HISTORY
Cameron was orphaned as a small child—he doesn’t remember it. He was only four years old when his parents died in a car accident while he was at home with a babysitter. With no immediate family on either side—both of his parents were only children whose parents had died of old age—he was put into the foster care system.
In California, where the state was already pretty broke, foster care was a far from perfect system. For Cameron, however, who managed to grow up with very little resentment, it wasn’t as tumultuous as it could have been. Of course, as a white kid who kept his head down and laid low, he wasn’t victim to as much violence and discrimination as a lot of the people he lived with growing up, and for that he was eternally grateful.
He used that to his advantage for his teen years. Always willing to take charge, he taught the younger kids how to stay out of trouble with gang violence that happened on the street each day, how to stay out of the way of the kids in school who would cause them trouble, and even how to cause a little trouble back if someone needed to learn some manners. Cam was always a natural born leader, and that earned him the respect of his peers.
When he left foster care, even as a dedicated, hardworking kid, he didn’t have many choices. Cam, despite working since the age of fourteen, couldn’t afford college. He didn’t receive any scholarships big enough that he could pay for the other part of college as well as his own living expenses. At this point, he could either go to living on the streets like too many of his foster siblings had over the years, or he could join the military. Cam, who had a deep sense that he was always destined for more, chose the military.
He seemed to be a natural at this as well. During basic training for the marines, Cam showed all the signs of being a tactical mastermind and a strategic whiz-kid. Not only did his superior officers see this in him, but Cam also saw it in himself. He felt that he found his calling by joining the military, and thanked his lucky stars that it had been the right choice (for it had been his only choice). He moved through basic easily, passing with flying colors and moving on to overseas missions.
Cam first served in Kosovo. His actions there got him a Marine Corps Commendation medal, all based on his quick-thinking and ability to problem-solve. The more time he spent overseas, the more he learned about how people ticked and the more he learned about military strategy, making him a better leader by each passing tour, even though he was just a rookie.
He went on to serve in Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan and Pakistan—he traveled all over the Middle East because of it, and he learned more and more about not only how others worked, but about himself as well. During this time, Cam received a Purple Heart, a Marine Corps Medal and a Silver Star for his actions. He also rose through the ranks, and by the time the year 2014 was rolling around, he was a Gunnery Sergeant, on his way to become Sergeant Major of the Marine Corps if he kept on the path he was going.
That was when calamity hit.
Due to a mix of misinformation that was fed to him and a risky decision on his part, he lost the lives of ten people in the squad he was leading. Even though through all investigations he was deemed free and clear of any misconduct, Cam still felt personally responsible. That was why he personally told each family what had happened, then requested to be discharged from the military.
Of course, this discharge was granted—honorably, even, and he was released from the military with no other skills. Cam wasn’t sure what he was going to do at that point, but he couldn’t stay in the marines with the guilt weighing on his conscience.
That was when ADDT found him. They hauled him out of the hole he had been digging for himself, reminded him of his considerable skills, and Cam found himself back in the same place he was before he had left the military—it’s just that this time, he was determined not to royally mess up, like he did the last time.
// PERSONALITY & APPEARANCE
Cam is a genuinely nice person. He can be serious at times—as he should be—but he does care about each member of his squad. He would rather put himself in harm’s way rather than see any of them get hurt because of him, and this is something that he makes known to them every time he debriefs them on a mission. He wants them to know that he’s never going to ask them to do anything that he wouldn’t do himself, and that is an absolute promise.
He’s sort of like a big brother—he’s very protective and loyal to those who he considers his own, something that he’s sure every shrink would tell him stemmed from protecting his younger foster siblings when things got hairy, and was the very reason why he joined the military. He doesn’t take kindly to people messing with those he considers to be in his inner circle, and he’ll do anything to make sure that they are all safe.
Cam does tend to seem a little indifferent at times. He can be very cold and detached, but that isn’t necessarily because he wants to be that way, but because he has to. He knows that to make tactically sound decisions, he sometimes needs to make an unpopular decision, and Cam has long since made his peace with that fact and he understands that it’s all being part of leader. Sometimes he takes that impartial and cold nature too far, however, making him seem erratic (since it’s such a dramatic shift from how he really is as a person) when he’s really just being pragmatic.
Cam dresses very simply most days—you can often catch him in just a t-shirt and jeans, or even sweatpants, when he’s wandering the headquarters. He has a tattoo on the inside of his forearm of a really beautiful piece of art—a moonlit lake surrounded by pine trees that was actually made from a picture from the woods near his hometown. He also has a tattoo on his torso that covers a long scar from a knife wound—it turns that scar into one of the ridges on a sprawling oak tree. He has another tattoo on the side of his right hand, by his pinky, of a cross. He has yet another tattoo on the inside of his bicep that says “And this too shall pass.” He has a grouping of scars on his chest from getting hit with shrapnel when he was overseas, a scar on his shoulder and hip from getting shot on two separate occasions and a scar on his hand from a pretty bad burn—pasta can be deadly if you drop it right.
// HEADCANONS
> Cam has made it his job to know everyone on the squad even better than he knows himself. He knows that if he can understand them on a deep level he can lead the team like a well-oiled machine. He also knows that if he doesn’t lead them well, people will lose their lives. > He was always a bit of a fitful sleeper. Cam, ever since he was a kid, never got to sleep early or easily, and that tendency has only increased as he has gotten older. With other people’s lives in his hands, with so many things to organize and plan and strategize, he finds it harder and harder to sleep each night until he crashes and sleeps for a day and a half. It’s not healthy, no, but Cam has been trying everything to get his body to schedule itself properly—so far, nothing has worked. > As a kid growing up in the foster system, he saw his fair share of substance abuse, whether it was from his peers or his foster parents. Cam saw it wreck people’s lives at the drop of a hat, and he’s not interested in going that way or seeing anyone else go that way at all. He’ll do anything to stop anyone he cares about from going down that path. For this reason, he doesn’t drink, he doesn’t smoke—he doesn’t do anything that could lead him that way. > Cam knows six languages—Spanish, Russian, Pashto, Arabic, Hebrew and Persian. He learned Spanish as a kid, growing up in California, but all the others he learned as a member of the military. All of them have come in useful in his time serving, and it took him a long time to learn them properly. He can’t read Russian very well, and his Hebrew can be downright atrocious at times, but he’s fluent enough in them with an authentic enough accent that he can carry on a conversation with a native speaker quite easily. > Cam got his Purple Heart for the same action that awarded him a Silver Star—after an IED went off under the first jeep in their convoy, enemy troops opened fire on on his squad. Despite being wounded by shrapnel, Cam went into the line of enemy fire over and over and dragged other members of his squad who were wounded out of the line of fire while they were waiting for air support. He has a large group of scars on his chest from where the shrapnel hit him, but he rarely talks about it—he rarely talks about any of his military commendations.