#agentlucien

Tʜᴇ Uɴɪᴛᴇᴅ Nᴀᴛɪᴏɴs

S.H.I.E.L.D.

Iʟᴏ Lᴜᴄɪᴇɴ

Dᴇsɪɢɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: Iᴅᴇɴᴛɪғɪᴇᴅ Aɢᴇɴᴛ - Iɴᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴜᴀʟ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪғɪᴇᴅ ᴀs ᴀɴ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ɴᴀᴍᴇᴅ ᴏʀɢᴀɴɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ/ᴏʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀɴʏ.

*ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄᴜʟᴀʀ ᴀɢᴇɴᴛ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪғɪᴇᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴄʟᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ ʟᴇᴠᴇʟ sᴇᴠᴇɴ. Tʜᴇ Iᴅᴇɴᴛɪғɪᴇᴅ Iɴᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴜᴀʟ's ᴘᴏsɪᴛɪᴏɴ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ᴀs ᴀ ғɪᴇʟᴅ ᴀɢᴇɴᴛ.

Iᴅᴇɴᴛɪғɪᴇᴅ Mᴜᴛᴀɴᴛ - Tʜᴇ Iɴᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴜᴀʟ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ʀᴇᴄᴏɢɴɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴀs ᴀ sᴛᴜᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴀᴛ Xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ's Sᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ғᴏʀ Gɪғᴛᴇᴅ Yᴏᴜɴɢsᴛᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʙᴇ ᴄᴏɴғɪʀᴍᴇᴅ ᴀs ᴏɴᴇ.

Vᴇʀᴅɪᴄᴛ:  <ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇssɪɴɢ>

Aʙɪʟɪᴛɪᴇs: <ᴀᴄᴄᴇssɪɴɢ ᴅᴀᴛᴀʙᴀsᴇ> Tʜᴇ Iᴅᴇɴᴛɪғɪᴇᴅ Iɴᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴜᴀʟ ᴇxᴄᴇʟs ɪɴ ᴍᴜʟᴛɪᴘʟᴇ ғɪᴇʟᴅs ᴏғ ᴄᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ғɪᴇʟᴅ ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴs. Sᴜᴄʜ ғᴇᴀᴛs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇsᴛʀɪᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ, sᴍᴀʟʟ ʙʟᴀᴅᴇs ᴘʀᴏғɪᴄɪᴇɴᴄʏ,ᴛʜʀᴏᴡɴ ʙʟᴀᴅᴇs ᴀɴᴅ/ᴏʀ sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴs ᴘʀᴏғɪᴄɪᴇɴᴄʏ, sᴍᴀʟʟ ɢᴜɴs ʜᴀɴᴅʟɪɴɢ/ᴜsᴀɢᴇ, ᴍᴇᴅɪᴜᴍ ɢᴜɴs ʜᴀɴᴅʟɪɴɢ/ᴜsᴀɢᴇ, ʜᴇᴀᴠʏɢᴜɴs ʜᴀɴᴅʟɪɴɢ/ᴜsᴀɢᴇ, ʜᴀɴᴅ-ᴛᴏ-ʜᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ (sᴘᴇᴄɪғɪᴄ ᴍᴇᴛʜᴏᴅs/sᴛʏʟᴇ ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ), ɪɴᴠᴇsᴛɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴs, ᴇxᴛʀᴇᴍᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴs ᴀssᴇssᴍᴇɴᴛ, ɢʀᴏᴜᴘ ᴛᴀᴄᴛɪᴄs, ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇᴋᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ sᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴀʟ ᴄᴀᴘᴀʙɪʟɪᴛɪᴇs. Tʜᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴜᴀʟ ɪs ᴀɴ Iᴅᴇɴᴛɪғɪᴇᴅ Mᴜᴛᴀɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀs sᴜᴄʜ ᴘᴏssᴇssᴇs ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴄᴀᴘᴀʙɪʟɪᴛɪᴇs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴀɴᴋ ᴀs ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇʟʏ ᴜsᴇғᴜʟ, ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ᴇxᴄᴇssɪᴠᴇ.

Wᴇᴀᴋɴᴇssᴇs: Tʜᴇ Iᴅᴇɴᴛɪғɪᴇᴅ Iɴᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴜᴀʟ ᴘᴏssᴇssᴇs ɴᴏ ᴘʜʏsɪᴄᴀʟ, ᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ, ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ, ɴᴏʀ sᴘɪʀɪᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴇxᴄᴇʟʟɪɴɢ ᴏғ ᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ᴏʀ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴏʀᴍᴀʟ/ᴀᴠᴇʀᴀɢᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴇᴍʙᴏᴅɪᴍᴇɴᴛ. Hᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴄᴀᴘᴀᴄɪᴛʏ, ɪᴛ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ Iᴅᴇɴᴛɪғɪᴇᴅ Iɴᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴜᴀʟ ᴘᴏssᴇssᴇs ᴀ ᴘʜᴏʙɪᴀ ᴏғ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ.

agentlucien submitted:

//ALL apple pie is personal apple pie in my house. <3

For the umpteenth time, Connor took his phone out of his pocket to check the time and his messages, only to find that his inbox was empty and it'd only been a minute since the last time he'd looked. It wasn't as though the person he was meeting was late--as Connor tended to be ridiculously early anyway--it was just that Connor, though a grown man and a former cop, always found himself nervous when meeting someone new, whether or not business was involved. It was a product from a lonely childhood where his only friends were the people on TV and the characters in storybooks.

People, real people, particularly ones that wanted to speak to him in specific, were still a strange and wonderful new thing.

Still, this wasn't his first case, and hopefully wouldn't be his last, so he had to man up and get over his social anxieties. After checking his phone one more time anyway. Setting it on the table, Connor pushed it over with a finger until it was next to the little bowl full of creamers, which he in turn plucked a few out to build a little castle out of. Well, not quite a castle. Six creamer cups do not a castle make after all.

//Well, it IS your house so, pshh at them. I’m sorry to hear that you’re ill. =( I hope you get better soon.

Was. And it wasn't my house technically. I just happened to be living there, but that's over and done with so...

//That. Is. Awesome. I really wish I had the courage to tell someone I don’t like to suck a bag of dicks. But I understand; the ability to keep friends drops exponentially when one has anxiety or depression. For sure. <3

You may think it is awesome, but apparently that's super socially unacceptable. Even if it was inside my own house...

And yeah I'm better than I was but this last couple weeks has been super hard with me being sick.

//I definitely know that feeling. I lose friends because I tend to give little effort in keeping them. I currently only have sourcey-mun as a rl friend and only because she’s a star at kicking me in the ass.