* ❛ ᴄᴀʀᴏʟɪɴᴀ

✧°˖ EXTREMELY EXHAUSTED / ACCEPTING. ❜ ( @agentxiii )

       this mission isn’t OVER. it feels like it won’t ever be over –– after all, her FATHER is a smart man. if he doesn’t want to be found, he simply WON’T be found. they will be left to run a rat race, collecting meaningless hints of his whereabouts, piecing together what he had hoped to achieve working with hydra, but they’ll never get to HIM. she’ll never see this through –– she’ll never see the END of him.

will it ever be enough… she grits her teeth. the ACHE runs deep to her bones and it takes sheer willpower to remain on her feet; a testament to how STUBBORN she is. it’s like this mission has her captured in its magnetic force, pulling at her limbs, dragging her forward, refusing to LET GO. well, that’s what happens when it’s personal.

they were PROJECT FREELANCER ; a group of highly skilled s.h.i.e.l.d agents recruited to a special operations team, told they would be tracking down HIGHLY CLASSIFIED assets and artifacts and taking down anyone who wished to stand in their way. FIFTY of them had been chosen, but by the time the first mission came around, there were TEN of them left. north, south, conneticut, washington, florida, maine, york, wyoming, texas and her, AGENT CAROLINA.

ct was the first to SUSPECT that something was off about freelancer. their assignments were often a mystery, only being provided enough detail to devise a plan and keep them ALIVE.mysterious crates collected, high tech safes broken into, and numerous stand offs between the agents and those who try and STOP them. over time, the freelancers were sectioned off from the rest of s.h.i.e.l.d, taking orders only from THEIR director, and the enigmatic counsel he answered to. tensions grew as the team was offered the opportunity to field testnew equipment, but only if you RANKED one of the best of the team…

she should have been the first one, yet carolina offered the enhancement to agent maine after an accident that she blamed on herself.ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE, a miniature implant at the base of his neck, meant to aid maine, and eventually ALL of them, in the field. but something wasn’t right. his AGGRESSION grew, as did the distance he put between himself and the freelancers. texas received her’s in SECRET, and her actions mirrored those of maine. york and north were met with INSOMNIA after their implants. suspicions continued to RISE.

they all heard washington SCREAM as the triskelion fell. it was strongest for maine, he had been the FIRST. it should have been her.  york and north had pulled theirs when they felt something was wrong. what they were told was supposed to HELP them in the field hadcorrupted one of their best agents, maine turned against the rest of the freelancers as the smoke cleared. HYDRA had employed the director to collect weapons from around the world and to test new “procedures” on some of the strongest recruits s.h.i.e.l.d had to offer, building yet another sleeper cell to do their bidding at the flip of a switch.

continued.    //     @pastdefined

           he knows he fucked up the minute he said it. she’s not an easy woman by any means. he likes that about her. how she can make the simplest of things so complicated. only time when things aren’t is when they’re fucking and he’s pretty much putty for her. something he holds no shame in. only he can be just as abrasive as she is. life so different but so the same. the issues with her father he doesn’t understand the total complexity of but given he attended the funeral of his father to only stay along enough for his sister to not punch him says a lot about him. like the fact that he has a mile long list of DADDY ISSUES  that make themselves known at all the wrong times. 

he owns his inability to care with a sense of pride though. not bothering with the man that did nothing but berate him for all the wrong reasons. he joined the military to escape only to wind up scarred and even more fucked up. the tattoos he collects do nothing to hide the marks. not really. not when he can close his eyes and know that they are there. it matters not as he hears the scrape of the chair and sees the way she walks off. eyes roll immediately because of course she gets up. it’s exactly what he would do. RUN. he looks down at the paper before tossing it across the table. men aren’t worth it. even if he is a man. 

maybe he should have given her space but he’s not that type. he can be pushy when he wants to be even though he shuts down entirely when his own feelings are the subject at hand. doesn’t take much for him to find her, moving in front of her, walking backwards in hopes he doesn’t run into something. she wouldn’t tell him if he was. “c’mon, love. i can see how pissed you are. no worries i can take it.” and maybe he is goading her. to see if she’ll yell or hit him. “daddy dearest is six feet under. trust me, the old man doesn’t care if you wallow or you piss on his grave.” 

      there’s not exactly a LONG list of people that she would expect to understand how she’s feeling, but HIS name lands somewhere around the top ––– he COULDN’T just let her have this moment, could he? it’s not like she’s poured her soul out to him; charlotte doesn’t know how to let down that much of her guard, just peeled it back far ENOUGH that he could see the emotional damage her father had left her with. they’d called him a WAR CRIMINAL in those final days, his project a failure. something that had tarnished her own file. they said it was a SUICIDE, but his blood is on her hands.

✧°˖ VINDICTIVE SUGGESTIONS / ACCEPTING. ❜ ( @wardebted )

           i won’t let anything –– anyone –– hold me back. if that were as true as she claims, would they even be HAVING this conversation. if she REALLY meant it, wouldn’t she have returned to her gear, the other new recruits, put DISTANCE between them? but she lingers, and that’s the biggest MISTAKE she could make. 

she doesn’t like how EXPOSED she feels, and it’s not the sub suit without armor plating that has left her feeling vulnerable. it wouldn’t do much good seeing as he’s worked his way PAST her personal armor. would a single night live on to HAUNT her for the rest of her life? –– charlotte had AVOIDED personal relationships every step of the way, until that night. she wasn’t the type to say FUCK IT or throw it all away, but just looking at him, her mind kept circling back to how she felt just hours ago, before the call, before the project. light, warm, HAPPY. ( charlotte, when was the last time you let yourself feel happy? officer school, the unsc, those were achievements. true happiness had been absent since she left and never came back… ) 

✧°˖ VINDICTIVE SUGGESTIONS / ACCEPTING. ❜ ( @wardebted )

his words are NOT meant to bring her harm, she knows that. a matter of fact, attempting to put things into perspective. he could have just as easily said YOU’RE THE BEST, CAROLINA ––– YOU DON’T NEED THEM. but these words stir anger, adding to the sting of betrayal. washington’s voice hangs HEAVY in her chest, threatening to suffocate her until she rips off her helmet. HOW could he choose them? her jaw clenches; she wants to SCREAM. after EVERYTHING the director put them through, all of them ––– this was BIGGER than her. this was bigger than him. for maine, for the twins, connie, for york... 

but HOW could she think he was actually going to help her? she REMEMBERS sidewinder, more vividly than she’d ever admit to. the shock of her system as eta and iota were PULLED, nerves fried on the spot and scars winding down her spine. the air drawn from her lungs as her body was FLUNG over that cliff, and a voice. SOMEONE else had been there. someone else saw what maine –– what the META –– had done. and no one came for her. and all that time YORK had believed she was still out there. she didn’t deserve his aid, could she BLAME him for not going to look for her ––– but still, it HURTS. no one was ever there to save her. he was right about that. this was HER mission to carry, personal vendetta or not. 

she’d see it through. even on her own. no matter WHAT it cost. after all, what else did she have to LOSE? project freelancer had taken everything from her. she’d been stripped of EVERYTHING she was before she was carolina. there was nothing to go back to. no life to try and make once all of this was over. if it was reckless, if it was a SUICIDE MISSION, then at least it was her life to sacrifice this time. 

✧°˖ VINDICTIVE SUGGESTIONS / ACCEPTING. ❜ ( @olliscot ) 

his words send something CRAWLING under her skin; it twists deep in her stomach and threatens to make her hurl on the spot. a VISCERAL reaction akin to anger, frustration. she’s heard words like his throughout her entire life, sympathetic shadows who just never really UNDERSTOOD it. telling her she shouldn’t give a fuck when she didn’t get a pointe solo, or when she DIDN’T have the highest score on an exam. voices in college telling her to relax. HE was good at telling her to not give a fuck –– most of the squad wanted to say it, but he was the only one who had the balls to do it. he eventually wore her down, too, didn’t he? 

her expression sours, verdant gaze shifting towards oliver whilst fingers FIDGET with a slender ring on a golden chain. it’s usually kept tucked under her shirt, but her FATHER’S NAME is in the headlines again. the blood is on all of their hands, but he was the one who pulled the STRINGS. he’s soaked in blood. THIS is a case where she shouldn’t give a fuck. WHY should she give a fuck about leonard church –– he never gave a fuck about her, did he? every inch of her is tense. he dragged her through the mud and still she sits there, seething at the sight of his name, but unable to STOP caring for two seconds.