#;colossus

Bozhe Moi..

     She shouldn’t have been driving, that’s for sure. Much less a bike. But she wasn’t about to call a cab when she was pretty much covered in blood. So she took it easy, made her way back at a safe speed, keeping in mind that she could stop and take a break if needed. Eventually she crossed the gates of mansion and parked to the side, climbing off her harley with a bit of difficulty. She’d have to clean away the dry blood that rubbed off on it later.

Surely, Logan and anyone else with an acute sense of smell would have picked up the coppery scent from miles away. And she really should get the wounds properly checked. But she was too raw to face anyone just yet, still choked up by the development in her relationship with Wade. Instead of going inside and heading to the medical wing, she walked along the pathway that Piotr had shown her the day she was meant to visit SHIELD’s headquarters.

Getting there took a little longer than she expected given her state, but as soon as the treeline opened up and gave way to the lake, Angel felt a wave of calm instantly washing over her, the crisp scent of the leaves mixing with the smell of water in the air. Walking a little closer, she sat down on the ground with a wince and a soundly groan, sinking her fingers on the earth.

@bigdumbbigguy 

     She’d grown used to undercover work at that point. This time, the person she was expected to portray was much closer to who she was than normal, which was a source of both relief and anxiety. Angel knew that club. Or rather, Chris did. It was a place they’d often go to after fights, and the club itself began catering to that sort of crowd. 

It allowed her to dress a little more comfortably. The dress was still tailored to mold itself to her body in the most impractical of ways, but she was able to wear her own leather jacket and boots instead of stupid strappy heels.

What was troubling her; however, was the possibility of coming across someone from her previous life. A silly notion. No one would recognize her even if they did cross paths. But Angel couldn’t be sure if she was ready to meet anyone she knew from then. And wasn’t looking forward to testing that out during a mission.

The matchstick was a quick, easy fix. Her absolute last resort. She didn’t even carry them with her anymore, but reading the name of the club on the assignment had her bringing them along just in case. The very moment she touched one to her lips, she was flooded with a sense of calm. Artificial and absolutely loaded, but it’d do.

Getting in was easy enough, and so was securing a place by the bar. With the matchstick between her lips, her focus was singular, dark eyes scanning the crowd for her mark without paying mind to anything else. Reason why she only noticed a familiar face making a beeline towards her when he was close enough to pluck the nervous habit away.

Memorable Quotes - 1 of ∞ @bigdumbbigguy

     Despite the hour she spent being tested and psychoanalyzed and prodded at before being able to even step foot in the lobby of SHIELD headquarters, the meeting was much less nerve-wrecking than she’d imagined. They briefly explained the hierarchy of secrets within the organization and pointed out exactly where she would fall in order to aid them with finding more factories. Maria Hill wasn’t present for it, which wasn’t at all surprising, but Angel imagined she’d hand picked the agents who interviewed her just by the lack of a condescending and judging tone throughout the ordeal.

Once the terms for the contract had been discussed to the point of it being as fair as possible for both ends, she was grateful for the time they’d given her to actually read the thing before signing. Stepping out of the heavily guarded building on her own two feet was a huge relief, and the mutant took in a few deep breaths after putting a considerable amount of distance between herself the the front gate.

With some free time to spare, Angel went looking for the things she’d left in storage. The decision to take up the shady agent’s offer came with various loose ends to tie, one of which was giving up her apartment and getting rid of her things. She never thought of herself as someone who valued material things very much, and yet. Inside the storage unit, she found not only her bikes, but a significant number of items that detailed and followed her career, no doubt collected by her coach and former training partners. Looking through them, she could easily remember the pride and joy they’d shared with her, and Angel understood why she didn’t have the heart to get rid of it all in the first place.

Taking a moment to get whatever feelings had been brought to surface under control, she gave the bikes a little check up and made sure they were working before calling Piotr.

     A week after she was brought to the mansion, Maria Hill came to talk to her on behalf of SHIELD, wanting to know more about the the project. Much like she did with the professor, Angel told her all the pertinent information that had reached her one way or another, which unfortunately didn’t include any locations for the other factories, but helped them understand the process of obtaining ‘patients’ and where they could start looking for anyone who might have been involved.

Miss Hill also asked for her assistance in briefing the personnel that would be in charge of following those leads, as well as confirmation on the identity of any made mutants they came across. Angel found herself taking part in various meetings at SHIELD headquarters, and being offered a more permanent position as a special consultant until this matter had been settled, and who knows? Maybe something more in the future. 

Having returned from one of those meetings, she went after the person responsible for saving her in the first place, finding Piotr at the gym. “Hey.” She called out, leaning against the door frame and watching as he lifted an astounding amount of weights. “Do you have a moment once you’re done?”

     Her muscles ached like they hadn’t in years, and for a fraction of a second, while her mind was still lifting through the layers between unconsciousness and cognition, she thought herself still human, still a fighter, just rousing from the heavy sleep that came after a good match. But when she opened her eyes, she found herself staring at an unfamiliar white ceiling, the scent of peppermint oil that lingered in her memories replaced by ash and blood. She remembered that she was no longer Chris, but Angel, and the first thought that struck her with that realization was of Ajax.

With whatever strength she had left, the made mutant attempted to jump out of the bed and take off, but restraints had been placed across her body and kept her from moving so much as an inch. Her jaw tightened, hands curling into fists. Angel tried to force her breathing into a steady rhythm to try and keep the growing despair inside her from spreading too quickly. As good of a fighter as he was, Ajax considered his inability to feel pain an advantage when it was in fact his biggest weakness and if she wasn’t around to keep him in check who knew what could happen to him.